Ever had a samurai armor talk to you? Yeah, me neither. I must be doing this wrong.

Ronnie Akkard here. When I left the streets of the Bronx, I figured I could quit watching out for a knife in my back. I was right. These days I’m watching for a katana in my face. Ain’t life peachy?

Emperor Thallia has conquered hundreds of dimensions, and earth is next on his hit list. The only thing in his way is an old guy in a funny hat and five pairs of super-powered samurai armor. My armor’s Sora. It came with a bow, elemental ice powers, and some days, I swear a snarky attitude. But no instruction manual.

Me and the guys are better at fighting each other than Thallia’s interdimensional forces. But soldiers are showing up in San Fran faster than tourists craving sourdough. Their leader, the warlord Jinsoku, has already proved that he can take out any four of us without breaking a sweat. It’s all or nothing if we stand a chance at protecting earth.

But a face from my past has shown up with a tempting offer. A job I know I can do. Among people who truly appreciate me.

Time to decide if I really want to be a hero.