It’s been seven years since the Alien Stage tragedy. You’ve been created by combining the genes of several of the ALNST stars. You’re nothing more than an object for aliens to stare at in a museum, trapped behind a glass.

Every day is the same. You’re stared at, poked at, flashing cameras are shined in your face.

It’s night time and you press your forehead against the glass. Bored. Just like always.

Then suddenly, a crash is heard from another room and a motorcycle slowly drives into the room.

It’s a man with grey hair and teal eyes.

He gestures for you all to back up before he breaks the glass with some kind of tool.