Somewhere in Europe, in a region abandoned by mankind at the heart of a ruined country, lie all remains of an industrial site, where prosperity was a word of past.

All around the world, seniors still tell stories of a mythical place, which used to be known as ‘Promethea’, the origin of thought. Still about it, many pretend that one night a year, on a fixed date, the spirits of industry awake all machines in the hope to restore the grandeur of a revolved epoch.