Forty-five minutes of pure combat with no filler, no talking, just puppets and ninjas colliding across a steampunk nightmare. The action sequences move like nothing else from that era, every frame designed to show you exactly how these mechanical warriors function in a fight. Rangiku's vulnerability while controlling her creations means every victory costs her something, keeps the tension locked in even when the choreography could coast on spectacle alone.
Princess Rangiku's world burns when Lord Karimata razes her castle to steal her father's ultimate creation: sentient puppets engineered for combat. Left standing amid the ashes with three of these mechanical warriors as her only allies, Rangiku vows to hunt down the man who destroyed everything. The problem is obvious: commanding the puppets demands total concentration, leaving her defenseless when enemies close in. So Rangiku recruits Manajiri, a capable ninja warrior, to watch her back while she orchestrates her metal soldiers across the battlefield. Together they chase Karimata across dangerous terrain, each encounter testing whether revenge is worth the price of vulnerability. What unfolds is part action spectacle, part dark fantasy. The puppets themselves are grotesque and fascinating, their movements between mechanical and alive. Manajiri and Rangiku develop an uneasy partnership built on necessity rather than trust, while the supernatural elements creeping into their journey suggest darker forces than mere conquest at work. This is raw and violent, mixing horror with moments of unexpected levity as two damaged people hunt a monster wearing a human face.