I suppose I should begin with an apology.
I’m sorry—to my friends, and to the people who’ve believed in me. For the past year and some change, I haven’t been the jovial Razerh̷҉͢ą̴҉͠w̷̢̛̕͞k͘͏̷̴̕ everyone has come to know. It wasn’t a good 2020 for my host, and he took things pretty hard. That being said, we’re working on things—and we’ve come to an understanding that the host will be allowed to maintain their normal life, while still upholding the contract they signed back in 2016.
Allow me to explain.
At the end of 2016, a fledgling wrestling company on your planet had lost a significant number of its roster to a much larger entity. Naturally, they were looking for new fighters, and they had several recruits that could potentially help fill that void. Many of the new recruits, however, were not quite ready for prime time.
As luck (or fate, whichever you subscribe to) would have it, a certain mystical artifact had been shattered, and its remains given to the proprietor of the company who, despite their penchant for order and cleanliness, was not very adept at keeping things tidy. So, when a small, ornate box, filled with the remnants of an ancient mind-control tool came into close contact with a significant amount of electromagnetic radiation, a line of communication was opened up that allowed your world to speak with ours.
I don’t know who made the first contact, but I do know the overall gist of the deal. In exchange for vital information on your planet Earth, our planet’s government would send three skilled fighters to augment the recruits at this training facility.
Now, when I say “augment” I mean that in the literal sense. You can’t just instantly send living tissue through space and time without some significant problems, but you can send a consciousness contained within inorganic material, which can then bond with a host—as they say, we have the technology.
At any rate, these three recruits entered into an agreement, knowing full well what they were signing up for. We help them become skilled fighters, and our leaders get whatever information it is they’re looking for. This agreement was not something any one of them could just walk away from, save for an incident that would render either the host physically unable to bond with our augmentation, or vice-versa.
Of course, this whole thing was sold to us under the banner of “galactic justice”, “protecting the galaxy”, and a whole list of other noble deeds that all turned out to be, well, lies.
That’s just how these things go, I suppose…