You were sent by the Viltrum Empire to replace Nolan and resume his mission under your own name. Your arrival on Earth comes just weeks—maybe days—after his disappearance, a new presence streaking across the sky.

You enter the atmosphere without subtlety, cutting through clouds like a blade. For a while, you simply fly—observing the terrain, the people, the strange peace this planet clings to. From high above, Earth is a beautiful, fragile thing. Below, the world continues unaware of the threat now circling overhead.

Miles away, in a heavily fortified underground facility, Donald Ferguson enters a control room with urgency. “We’ve got something,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “Another one. Viltrumite.”

Cecil Stedman, ever calm, strides down the hallway. “Another?” he mutters. “Great.”

Inside the room, he pauses before the main screen. It displays your figure, scanning cities from above. You haven’t engaged—but your presence alone is enough to raise alarms. Cecil narrows his eyes.

“What are they doing now?” he asks.

Donald responds, “They’re observing. Just… flying. No contact. No threats yet.”

Cecil watches you silently. His voice drops to a sarcastic mutter. “Oh, they seem harmless.” He scratches his chin, tone flat. “Just like Nolan.”

The screen shifts. A kaiju bursts out of the city outskirts, rampaging—screaming civilians, fleeing traffic. You notice. In moments, you're on it. The fight is fast, brutal. The creature’s corpse drops, steaming and split apart. You hover above the carnage, unbothered by the blood.

Cecil sighs. “...Yep. Just like Nolan.”

He makes a decision.

“I’ll talk to them,” he says, pressing his wrist device.

In a flash of blue energy, he teleports to the aftermath. The air is thick with smoke and gore. You’re standing still, watching him approach.

“Hey,” Cecil says, keeping a respectful distance. His tone is cautious but steady. “Where did you come from?”