Mechanical Deity [Open]

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It is the future, year 2999 actually; the mechanical uprising was sparked only one hundred years earlier, now the humans that are left are either imprisoned by the mechas, or are hiding in fear in the ruined lands. The cities crumble under weather and age, nature has taken over most of the world, large floating factories called Titans rule the skies. This is where more mechanized warriors are built to wage war against the remains of humanity. Humans cower in any hole they can crawl into, many have become barbaric and wild.
The governments are still around, though very weak. They are an elite group, the extremely wealthy and the military. The many countries have been compressed into three, their bases; America, England, and Russia. America now goes by Ledlebass, named by the dictator, Lila, a young girl placed there as a puppet, but who soon learned the value of her power and took control. It is this twelve year old who the other two countries fear.
These countries are no longer stationary, instead, they move among the clouds as hundreds of thousands of square miles of floating machinery. Only the elite live in these floating cities and are protected by the vicious military. The countries are hostile toward each other, the mechas, and the survivors on the ground.
It is time for a leader to rise and start the revolt against the oppressors above.

"Let's see. Scrap, scrap, junk, crap, scrap, scrap. Corpse. Scarp. And what a guess, more scrap" I slammed the rusted dumpster shut and sighed. This was the fifth scrap heap I had found, and there was nothing salvageable, nothing even worth polishing and passing it off as workable.
It was getting harder and harder to find anything in this ruin, food was getting scarce and people were dropping like flies thanks to disease, starvation, exposure, and the worst of the worst, the mecha's.
"This place is almost finished, and I doubt I'd find anywhere else like this soon" I kicked an old PS3 console and headed towards my plains rider parked behind the crumbling wall of an old skyscraper.
The plains rider looked like a old motor bike handlebars and seat strapped to a jet engine, dotted by hydrogen/nitrogen hover jet thrusters to keep it off the ground. Rust orange in color with specks of mud, dust, dried blood and mecha oil splattered over the front, where standing out in strike contrast was the symbol of omega in forest green, painted above a white and silver roman XVII.

"God I hate this place" I heard a distant rumble and looked up, seeing the angry storm clouds brewing in the distance. I could already see the flashes of light and the thunder bellowing. "And I hate the look of hat storm"

I leaned back against the wall and watched the filth of the ruined city pass by, grovelling at others and trying to make bargains for garbage, I clicked the metal tips on my gauntlet and stood up, I was about to leave on a scavenging trip and needed a few gallons of gas to start me off. My old military truck ran off of several wind generators and solar panels as well as gasoline, hydrogen, diesel, vegetable oil, and pretty well any other liquid besides water. I had found a freshwater spring just outside of the city and planned on returning there to get a tank full to sell on the market, water was becoming scarce and fresh water was rare and valuable.
I managed to find a gallon of gas, and traded off a small canteen of pure water, unpolluted and natural. I returned to my truck and dumped it into the tank, it was becoming harder and harder to come by fuels.
With a sigh, I began to drive, the road nothing more than a curving path cleared through the rubble of buildings and chopped through massive tree roots.

I swerved to dodge the rock that came out of nowhere and opened the throttle, feeling the engine pulsing beneath me kick into high gear. I was kicking up a huge plume of dust behind me.
I knew anyone could see it from miles away, but I didn't care. I was moving too fast for any of the floating cities sensors to catch me and too fast for the mech's to shoot me.
I shot past the edges of the town, covering the outer ruins in a fresh coating of dust and sand. I was gone before anyone realized I was there and started shouting curses at me.
I looked back at the town, catching one last look at it before it disappeared behind the hills. I laughed and looked forward, to see a military truck parked by a lake, in my way, with no time to swerve to the sides.
"sh*t!" I pulled up on the handles, barely lifting my plains rider off the ground with barley an inch between it and the truck. I saw what was coming as i flew over the truck and bailed out, landing in the cold water. As i broke the surface I heard my plains rider hit the water, a wave rolling over my head. "sh*t! That's going to take forever to get out"
"Hey!" I turned to see a man standing on the shore, looking at me angry and shocked.
"What do you think you were doing!"

The newcomer splashed about in my pool of water for a few minutes before struggling to the five foot side, I let down a short length of rope and helped him out before slapping him in the back of the head, sending him staggering forward into the side of the truck.
"The hell do you think you're doing blasting around here like this?" I yelled, walking up to the man, who had straightened up; I hated people with tech like that, so few people could get their hands on parts like that, and these idiots make them into cars and sh*t. I glanced in the direction it had come and sighed, no use getting upset, it was a close call, nothing else. I lowered my gauntleted fist and turned back to the truck and resumed pumping on a handle, filling a massive tank in the back of the truck with water, a long hose laying in the water.

I had walked for days with all but a few slices of stale bread in my stomach. I looked to the sky to see the clouds form together like a well trained battalion, ready to fire down on those beneath them. It was days like this I wished that I was killed on that day fifteen years ago, the weapon would have been destroyed then too. All this running had made this old man tired, only my somewhat youth-like appearance hiding my inner struggle.

It looked like there was a settlements on the horizon, but the likelihood of charity in these times are next to none. I could potentially break the shadows of our oppression, but to them, I'm just an old man, trying to survive as they are. Given half the chance, they would slaughter me like a pig and feast on my fleshy innards. I had been close to that a few times, particularly in eastern Europe, and most recently, the shores of America... three and a half years ago.

The weapon had become a burden, almost like a curse. Everytime I revealed it in desperate occasions, people would look on, looking how shiny it is, to how much it could be worth to them. I now tended to keep it concealed, only getting it out about once a month to check it still functioning. Luckily, there didn't seem to be as many advance mecha varieties here in America, from what I had seen anyway.

I began to head to the town, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious or useful...