A high school girl's love song tears a hole between worlds, and what pours through is pure 1985 animation fever, neon geometries, impossible ship designs, mechas that move like they're made of light. The plot is threadbare and the characters barely exist as people. What matters is that every frame looks like nothing else from that era, a visual argument that animation itself could be the story, a world so committed to its own strangeness that you stop asking why any of it is happening and just watch it burn.
Yohko is just another high school girl nursing a crush, so she pours her feelings into a song. What she doesn't know is that her melody acts as a key, cracking open the barrier between Earth and Ashanti, a mirror world that's existed in shadow since ancient times. On the other side, a conquering force waits to invade, and the song she wrote might be exactly what they need. A legendary warrior named Leda once sealed these worlds apart centuries ago, foreseeing this exact danger. Now that responsibility falls to Yohko, though she's the last person who'd volunteer for the job. Thrust into Ashanti alongside unexpected allies, she discovers she's far more connected to this conflict than a random song choice could explain. What begins as a simple love song becomes the spark for an interdimensional war. Yohko has to master her newfound powers, trust strangers in a strange land, and figure out what role she actually plays in an ancient destiny. Ordinary life is officially over.