There are times when life rolls in as treaded machinery, an overwhelming presence 5000 feet high. You can spot it triangulating on you from kilometers away. If you can't see it, you can still feel the ground shake. An armored megalopolis of turreted disaster, even its shadow is dense enough to squeeze the air from one's chest.

A giant fortress destroying forward, crushing everything in its path... what's a lone simian to do?

Most of these times we run. We take to the trees and brachiate out of harm's way, leaving behind life as we knew it: a thin smear of dreams and possibilities. The Machine rolls on, bits of our lives and loves dripping in its tracks.

Not this time.

This monkey is faster, smarter and more motivated than you've tried to flatten before, Machine. I'm already running beneath your immense chassis, in the vast space between your grinding walls of plated cogs. Your main entry hatch is just above me. Soon I'm going to jump, climb in, take over.

You've been running driverless far too long.

This time, Machine, I'm coming for you.