A moment's calm had just dawned on the city of Athenia, but the queen of Elenaris–the only one not invited to the late-night celebration, sat in her lab fiddling with the insides of Grace's body. While everyone else feasted on a roast and ale, her hands were smeared with grease, the burns from pistons and pipes running inside the old Machina's circuitry.
Unlike anyone else, Grace was made with heavy reliance on the mechanical aspects of machinery. Thus, limiting repair and upgrades since nothing from the current time suited the soul-trapping core within. A delicate object, so brittle at this point that it could crumble to a touch, working around something like that was, needless to say, quite frustrating.
Clicking her tongue as another burst of burning air escaped through Grace's pistons, Mono cursed her luck and healed her false skin quickly. It wasn't the burning that hurt her, but her inability to repair Grace quickly.
