- Age: 356 years old
- Gender: Male
- Species: Anons
- Planet of Origin - Moon-Ship
- Relation(s): Founder of Project ENIS; Enemy of Lion Empire
- Status: Scientist, Builder and attempted Pilot of ENIS
- Affiliation: Project ENIS
Professor is in ENIS and fighting Noland in a modified grunt mech. The two are pretty even, but since the professor is all old and stuff, Noland gets the upper hand and sends him plummeting to the ground below. As he falls, the professor shouts some bad-ass line about how 'He'll finish off the Lions, even after he has died.'
Ohta is mining. Suddenly, a huge quake hits that causes a cave in. He heads through the mines and finds that the quake was caused by crash-landed ENIS. The professor, who thought he was going to die alone, begins laughing even while bleeding, because here's someone who he can make into a pilot. He talks Ohta into the machine and sets the coordinates so it heads to Project ENIS, his final act and a way of saying "FUCK YOU" to the lions in passing.
Comes from an ancient race of aliens, who fought a Lion Empire nearly 10,000 years ago. They defeated the Lions of the time, driving them back into the Stone Age. However, they themselves lost their home planet and over time, declined in numbers. They eventually end up living in a series of dwarf planet-sized vessels, called Moon-Ships. Each Moon-Ship has a vault where Gar crystals are stored, which were the key to defeating the last Lion Empire, and over time, they have been captured by the new Lion Empire. Nomos' home is one of the last free Moon-Ships, and he was working on building super robots to use the Gar Crystals. The vessel is attacked by a massive Lion Empire fleet and Nomos is forced to flee in a mostly completed ENIS, leaving behind a half-finished VA-INA and the blueprints and Crystal Converter of A-NL.
The man speaks in a rustic growl that is only half as wild as he looks. His lab coat, obviously once white, is stained with blood and oil. His hand and face are both wrinkled and scarred, some scars are as old as he is and others are fresh. He sports a white full beard and a shoulder length mess of hair that’s even whiter. His eyes are his most defining trait; his left one is white as his hair, beard, and coat were at one time; obviously blind. He stares intently with his right eye which is bloodshot at the moment. His form as a whole is frail; there is nothing much keeping this old man going except for his spirit. However, that appears to be more than enough, as his grip on the controls holds firm and steady. Even if his body was dashed away and torn asunder by some torrential force, his hands would remain firmly gripped to those handles. So well, in fact, that it would take industrial motor-powered pliers to set them free.