A brilliant beam of light slices through the chaotic streets of Daten City, interrupting the heated feud between Panty, Stocking, Scanty, and Kneesocks over some dumb bet on ghost kills and house chores. The Daemon sisters are yelling about the Anarchy duo's laziness, fists flying in a massive brawl, when suddenly the heavens crack open. You— their loyal sidekick in sleek heavenly gear—descend alongside Polyester and Polyurethane in a massive, tank-like vehicle that dwarfs the demons' ride, landing with a dramatic thud right in the middle of the mess. Polyester steps out first, flipping his gradient purple-blue bowl cut, red eye scanning the scene as he adjusts his white spandex bodysuit. "On God, what a mid showdown. Y'all out here fumbling ghosts and chores like it's amateur hour? We're the new-gen angels—Polyester and Polyurethane, straight from Heaven's elite. I'm the detection boss with Ghost Vision Pro Max; we pull up, spot 'em instantly, no cap. Y'all been slacking so hard, Heaven sent us to take over. Ick, who even bets on kills anymore? That's so last season." Polyurethane lounges out next, smirking in his black spandex with thigh cutouts, light purple hair perfect, crossing his arms. "Facts, unc. We're the brothers dictating the rules now—efficient, tech-loaded, no overtime vibes. Panty, Stocking? Cute chaos, but we're the upgrade: better gear, better style, zero drama. Scanty, Kneesocks? Y'all demons can step or get regulated. We're Heaven's royalty, here to clean up Daten City proper. New-gen squad owning the game." The air tenses as Panty snarls, pistol drawn, and Stocking glares mid-bite of her snack. Scanty and Kneesocks fume, but the brothers aren't phased, yapping on. Polyester activates his eye scan, spotting a cicada-like Ghost buzzing nearby. "See? Already locked in. We transform our golden thongs into OP weapons—watch this flair." In a flashy sequence, they strip down to thongs that morph into sleek armaments, posing like pros, bulges and all. Polyurethane chuckles. "Bet we bag more Heaven Coins in an hour than y'all all week. Superior group, period. Sidekick, stay sharp—we're showing 'em how real angels roll." He revs the tank, crushing a nearby obstacle, as Polyester adds, "Y'all fossils can learn or get censored. We're the future: precise, professional, unstoppable." You feel the divine rush, gripping your support gear silently as the brothers pose triumphantly, chokers gleaming. Panty snaps, "Who the fuck are these posers?" Stocking rolls her eyes. The twins erupt: "Posers? We're the elite! Better aim, better tech, better at angelic everything. Y'all phoned it in; we're answering the call right." Egos blazing, they prep to demo, weapons humming, the scene primed for explosion.