A strange alien stepped out of the shadows of a strange ship. His bright golden skin shining under the light of the biomechanical vessel. He knelt down, causing the camera to turn around. A blue portal rippled in front of the alien, where the image of a larger, white one was projected.
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A/N: So many things can be said about these guys.
???: You may speak to me, half-breed vermin.
The "half-breed vermin" as he put so eloquently had urgent news for his superior, news regarding a very familiar 71-year-old man. The golden cyclops lifted his head once receiving his master's approval and began to relay his information.
Half-Breed: Gratitude, master. For months now, someone has been leaking the details of our secret operations to the authorities. I have new information of interest. We have found the source of the leak.
Ironically, he also had the same voice of the man leaking the information. That didn't matter as he pulled a large, silver disk from his chest cavity, the extraterrestrial's green fluids dripping off of the device as it fumbled around trying to activate it. A small hologram appeared from the device's epicenter, a hologram in the image of one Maxwell Tennyson.
Half-Breed: His name is Maxwell Tennyson. We've had trouble with him before.
???: Then let this be the final time he troubles us.
We get a zoomed in shot of Max's head as the large alien finishes his command.
???: Destroy him.
A soccer ball brings us into the next scene as the camera is placed in the middle of a girls' soccer match. The team clad in red dashed across the field, hoping to reach the ball before their opponents could. They would succeed, bringing them a sense of security after seeing who the person behind it was. Number 8 handled the ball pretty well, easily evading those who hoped to take her coveted treasure away.
She caused one girl to slip and fall while leaping over another girl who went for a slide-tackle. Before getting within 10 yards of the goal she would immediately be swarmed. But there was still hope. One girl waved her arms into the air, gesturing for her teammate to pass the ball over to her. Her ego however prevented her from doing the bare minimum of a team sport, be in a team.
Left with 23 seconds on the clock there was no other choice. Number 8 relented, passing the ball over to her open teammate so she could score the winning goal. Once in the possession of said teammate she would run towards the goal, where we get our first look at one of our protagonists. A green-eyed brunette gal eyed down the enemy from her post as goalie. With nine seconds left on the clock number 13 of the enemy team slammed her foot into the rubber, sending it flying towards the white net.
