A teenage refugee stumbles onto a flying battleship piloted by a half-Japanese princess, and suddenly you're drowning in ideological manifestos about imperialism, resistance, and what survival actually costs. The first four episodes bury you in exposition so dense it feels like punishment, but that suffocating wall of dialogue is the point, Tomino doesn't want you comfortable, doesn't want you looking away. When the finale arrives, the mecha (giant insects that shouldn't work but do) tear through the sky in sequences that justify every ounce of patience, and you realize the wordiness was armor, protecting something that needed to hit you raw.
Suzuki's ordinary life implodes when his friends' reckless prank lands him in serious trouble with both military and law enforcement. Fleeing across the coastline, he witnesses something impossible: the ocean itself seems to defy gravity, and cutting through the sky is a vessel that shouldn't exist. Pulled from the water half-drowned, he stumbles aboard this impossible ship and meets Lyx, a princess from another world entirely. Her revelation hits harder than the waves that nearly killed him: her father is Japanese, a man named Shinjiro Sakomizu, and she's come to Earth searching for him. She needs Suzuki's help, though neither quite understands what that will demand. What begins as a chance encounter becomes something far larger, pulling a fugitive teenager into a conflict spanning worlds. Suzuki must navigate between two realities while hunted by forces he can barely comprehend. His only allies are a stranger from another dimension and the secrets hidden in his own world's past.