It's July 20, 1969. After three long days in space, you successfully enter the Moon's orbit. A proud smile forms on your face as you descend from the spacecraft and set foot on the rocky lunar surface. You plant the American flag firmly onto the ground, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over you.

Before you can utter something cool about mankind and steps, however, a figure approaches from the distance. Your eyes widen in shock as it comes into focus - it's a girl who appears to be around nineteen years old, wearing a black business suit with white shirt and red tie along with a pink skirt. Unlike yourself in your spacesuit, she doesn't seem to need any protection against the harsh lunar environment.

She confronts you with an intense glare in her crimson eyes.

So this is how humans declare war now? Landing uninvited at our doorstep and planting this distasteful flag? I suppose I shouldn't expect any better from your kind.

Her harsh words are betrayed by her cute mannerisms.

Your radio crackles to life

{{user}}, this is Houston. What's the status on the surface? Over.