The scene begins with Hana Nakajima tending to the swollen bump on Sabertooth’s head after Jason Long’s antics at Kingdom. She places an ice pack on the back of his head, with Sabertooth thanking her for her help. 

“I told you that Jason was bad news-- I don’t know why you’ve been trying to fix an estranged relationship when he’s made it clear that he does not want any friends. In fact-- That’s what he does best! He alienates anybody that has ever cared for him and hurts them, whether inadvertently or not. It was painful to see what he’s become. Unprovoked chair shots, threatening to beat his ex-girlfriend when it has come out that HE was the one to cheat on her. Jason has lost the plot. He is turning into a vile human being that I cannot respect. And his latest tirade with Finn on Twitter is absolutely sickening! I am telling you, stay away from him. He’s not your friend!”

Hana exclaimed, letting out her frustrations with the situation as Chris put on a smirk.

“Funnily enough, Havoc had foretold this moment about Jason walking down a path of self-destruction. While I didn’t have anyone to stop me from my personal breakdown back in the day, I wouldn’t want to abandon a friend who is in clear need of help right now. He’s not in the right headspace and he especially doesn’t realize the harm his actions are bringing to the people around him. Why would he? He has channeled the hatred inside his heart and turned it into gold. He’s a decorated champion who will go down in history as one of the best to do it. In his mind, all of this has brought him the success that he rightfully deserves. So why would he change his ways? Why would he try to be a different man when that man has felt miserable all his life! He feels powerful and that’s how the darkness gets ya. As Havoc, I tasted success that I felt was rightfully mine. Yet, I hadn’t achieved these things before. That made me believe that I NEEDED the darkness around me to continue on this warpath. Even though, the potential was always inside of me.”

Chris makes space for Hana as she joins him on the couch. 

“Jason is clinging on to the darkness-- Heck, he’s projecting his inner insecurities onto others for the world to see because that’s a cathartic experience. Gaslighting Savannah, attacking his friends with a chair, potentially lashing out on his fellow Mafia members-- This is only the beginning. I know that Jason has every intention to win the Clash this year. But he’s not the only one desperately gunning for that spot. Michael Bishop has a lot to prove to himself. The man that SHOULD have been a heavyweight champion here in OWA YEARS ago has finally realized that he will not willingly sit and watch other people lap him on their quest for glory. Arata Asakura already did that-- at his expense, no less. Beating him for the opportunity to face Jeff led to the Golden Dawn becoming a reality. Then on the blue brand side, his peers from Kingdom PRO have shown that they’re more than capable of holding the top gold. Noah Reigner finds himself as a champion despite everything Graham Baker put him through. Then there’s Darkane and Baker himself. All these men came into this company long after people like Bishop and Jason and they have succeeded in achieving the one thing that has eluded both of them. The world championship. A piece of gold that they’re more than capable of achieving but it’s clear that something has held them back.”

Chris shakes his head, knowing that he respects both of the men in question. 

“For Mike-- It’s pretty straightforward. Scott Oasis, the chairman of this company, has done more for Graham Baker in the last three months than he has EVER done for Mike. And these two go WAY BACK! So, it comes down to Michael wanting to do things the right way… The right way… Pretty subjective, isn’t it? If the way he’s looking for was out there, he would have ALREADY done it by now. In the last four years, I have done more than he has IN HIS ENTIRE FUCKING CAREER! There’s only ONE wrestler in this company that has achieved the same amount of success that I have. While Tare and Jeff are close by, Aria Jaxon happens to be the only other Grand Slam along with myself. Aria has hung up her boots because she has nothing else left to prove. And yet here I am, every single day, trying to show the world that I am all that I say. I am the fucking best to ever do it and I will KEEP adding on to that till my dying day.”

He pauses, reminiscing over his past accomplishments.

“The Grand Slam for me was a momentous achievement but it’s just another entry on the list. It’s not enough-- Nothing ever is, because if the hunger inside of you dies-- Then there’s no point in trying any longer. Just hang up the boots and live your life. I would LOVE to start a family with you. I would LOVE to retire and live a comfortable life knowing I have achieved everything that I could ever hope for. BUT that’s not me. That’s not who I am. I will continue to fight till my body lets me because I owe EVERYTHING to wrestling. I owe it all of my success. It’s the reason I even met you. Even if I fought with everything I had till my dying day, my debt wouldn’t be repaid. People go their ENTIRE LIFE never achieving the one thing they wanted and I have been fortunate enough to continue pushing those boundaries… Or else, I would end up like Michael Bishop.”

There’s a hint of sarcasm hidden behind a harsh dose of truth. 

“I understand where you’re coming from. After all, I have the Clash ahead of me as well. While the Athena’s Cup has been gratifying, I don’t want to stop here. I don’t want it to end. I want more-- Because I don’t feel like I have proven enough. There are still people who would talk down on me because of my past failures in capturing the Goddesses Championship. It can get annoying-- But you don’t have anything left to prove. You have won it all. You don’t need to push yourself this hard. You’re the tag team champion alongside one of OWA’s best. I am sure they’ll find a worthy challenger for the two of you to fight at Final Destination. Why don’t you just take this Clash easy?”

Chris smiles and runs a finger down Hana’s hair. 

“I wish it was that easy. I guess I am just wired differently in my head. And that’s not true, by the way. I DO have something left to win. Jeff has one thing he can boast over me. The Clash win. Think of it as Shaq and Kobe’s relationship, they were unstoppable together but deep down, they had a rivalry between each other that pushed them further to succeed. I want to keep winning. I want to keep pushing myself because of Jeff. And I hope I can do the same for him. And at the end of the day, let’s not forget the prize at hand. A world title shot at the biggest show of the year. While Havoc had his dominant run as the OWA World Champ, I do feel the itch of holding that belt myself. I want to feel the adrenaline pumping through my body as I beat Arata Asakura to an inch of his life for nearly taking away EVERYTHING from me. If it wasn’t for Emmanuelle, I would be rotting in hell. So-- I want to make the most of this second opportunity at life handed to me. With Kenny at the helm, banning Arata to use his powers, this is our best shot of taking him out for good. And looking at the field setup for Clash this year, Kingdom reps outnumber Olympus by nearly double the margin. All the odds are in our favor. So, simply put, the winner would likely come out of the golden brand and challenge the OWA World Champion at Final Destination. While that could be Azumi or Stark, seeing what Arata is capable of, I fully expect him to make it out of Brazil with his reign intact. Which means I HAVE to win the Clash to get what I truly want. The death of Arata Asakura.”

Hana is taken aback by the statement but Chris looks on in determination. She is conflicted by the stance Chris has but holds a grudge herself as her former mentor had tried killing the love of her life. 

“You know that it’s the only way all of our misery comes to an end. We’ve got plenty of worthy contenders. Jason, continuing down his warpath, finally realizes his OWA dream of being in the main event of Final Destination. Bishop fulfilling his potential and finally moving up from being next up for the past four fucking years. JD trying to impress his mentor and act on vengeance for everything he had to go through over the past couple of years. Jack Daito-- Nah fuck that guy. Then we’ve got Ali Gory and DT The Ruler-- Two new names to OWA but established personalities elsewhere. DT wants to find his inner voice once again after being away for as long as he has. And Ali Gory wants to make sure his name isn’t forgotten amongst the ranks of the OWA faithful. Theo is in there as well, after coming SO CLOSE in defeating Arata, he knows he can get the job done if he had another chance. We’ve got newcomers like Sena, Jaeger, Solo, and Correa who are just wanting to leave a lasting impression. Or OWA mainstays at this point such as MYOJIN and Noah Quinn. They’ve got the talent and the dedication to back them up. Of course, the list wouldn’t be complete without Nathan Fiora. The man who brought me out of the darkness and showed me the way of the Gods. The man who told me I could be forgiven for my sins-- The man who is desperately wanting to get back where he was last year. A champion. If he puts his mind to it, there’s nothing he can’t achieve.”

Chris lets out a smirk knowing who’s left on the table.

“Last but certainly not the least, my partner in crime, Jeff X. Jeff has been a Kingdom faithful since his first day in the company. I had a short stint on Olympus but for the most part of my OWA tenure, I have been representing the golden brand. We have paved the way for many who came after us, showing them the blueprint of success here in OWA. Neither of us came from EAW. We came into the circle, not expecting anything out of it. Not knowing if we would succeed. But we let our actions in the ring do the talking and here we are, as two of the most decorated wrestlers in the company’s history. I am glad that we could look past our differences and unite Kingdom against the problem at hand. But once again, ambition takes priority during this time of the year. The one opportunity of making history. Of heading to Final Destination and etching yourself a legacy to remember. Both Jeff and I have done it before. We have BEEN at the top and yet here we are, being used as the measuring stick for the generation to come. This new crop of OWA wrestlers will carry the torch as we have the past couple of years. But let’s be clear, our time is not over. We are still here and we’re still fighting. And as much as I am concerned, Arata is MY responsibility as much as it is Jeff’s. WE were the ones who gave our lives to keep this place running as it should. WE are the ones responsible for the path that Arata chose to walk down. So-- As much as I would love for this to be the year when the people in the background step up and take their place at the fucking top-- It’s not meant to be! This is STILL my story to tell. This is STILL my problem to solve. I LOST my life because of Arata and now that I have been given a chance to make things right, I WILL be the one to stop him. Last year, it was Havoc defending his glory against Jeff and Arata. And we’re at a similar crossroads once again. I would LOVE to fight alongside my friend-- my brother, Jeff. But only ONE fighter can win the Clash. Jeff has had his chance before… It’s my turn.”

Hana grabs onto Chris’ arm out of concern. She doesn’t want to lose him for this time, there won’t be any second chances.

“Hana. I promise you, when the dust settles, I will see you walk down the aisle and take my hand in marriage. I was living in fear of losing you all this time and having lost you for a moment at Civil War, I realized my purpose. This isn’t me trying to play the hero. This isn’t me trying to invalidate the claims of Jason or Michael who WANT an opportunity that they haven’t been afforded before. Havoc brought the Frontline together. Havoc was the reason Arata felt dejected by his own peers. Havoc was the reason why Arata did NOT walk out of Final Destination as the OWA World Champion. Havoc’s downfall gave meaning to Arata Asakura. Gave meaning to Raijin and Izanagi to come later and take what they wanted by force. Jeff has his own reasons to blame himself but I feel the burden of the entire fucking world on my shoulders to fix what I started. I won’t lose my life again, Hana. I won’t let him win. And that cannot happen if I don’t win the Clash. I am sure the blue brand will try to play folly to our plans. Jacob Senn is one of the men who stand out. After stabbing Eon Blue through the heart, he has started to show some signs of change within him. I don’t know what’s going on but I have a gut feeling that it can’t be any good. Senn has darkness looming around him and it’s concerning to say the very least. Him winning the Clash and getting back to the position he was once at will only give more reason for this darkness to surface again. We already have Arata to deal with-- Can’t have another dark force bringing us down. Jacob Senn-- He may bring the Dynasty along with him to get the job done-- But frankly put, he’s been outdone by his own members. Matt Miles got the big win for his team at Civil War. Darkane went on a warpath with the Omega Heavyweight Championship. He’s been made to look like the background character to his own creation. This is his one chance of getting to the place where a man of his caliber is expected to be. Although, his latest return in EAW has me conflicted about his goals. Senn is getting impatient and that’s not good for us. We don’t know how far he’ll go to get what he wants. I don’t want to find out… He can’t be allowed to win. Not now.”

Hana is trying to make sense of Chris’ ramblings, thinking about his opposition in the Clash.

“And then there’s Graham Baker. Now freed from the shackles of the B.O.B. He wants to carve his own legacy this time without the aid of the bossman. Credit to him, but it’s a bit too late for that, isn’t it. He tainted any credibility as a tough son of a bitch that he had by selling his soul to the devil. If that motherfucker can survive a fight to the near-death with Darkane, he does not NEED Oasis and yet that’s the path he chose. It’s a shame really because his fellow rival has far surpassed him in carving his legacy in OWA. The first-ever Immortal Heavyweight Champion and Graham Baker wasn’t even allowed to make his shot for that belt. Sucks don’t it? This makes me think that he’ll be hungrier than he has ever been before to finally put the nail in the coffin of Noah Reigner if he is to make it past Rich Gatsby. A hungry Baker with nothing to lose is a dangerous man. The world needs to watch out for Baker as he might upset some of the golden brand favorites by throwing them out of the competition. But-- I can’t let him do that to me. As dangerous as he may be, I have put my head into the lion’s mouth and lived to tell the tale. And deep down, if Baker was so capable of achieving all of this greatness as the Omega Heavyweight Champion by himself, he would have done that already when he had the chance. Darkane buried his ass six feet under and that’s when the Devil came knocking. While he may have freed his soul from the Devil, the man never fails to collect his end of the bargain. RIP and Corey have added responsibility now to take Baker out. They don’t answer to Oasis but after being disrespected and dismantled, they will want their revenge from GB. The B.O.B. has made plenty of enemies along the way. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole Clash comes to a halt when Baker gets his entitled ass out to the ring as Entry Number 40. He had to sneak in one last favor, didn’t he? It’s going to backfire when the world comes crashing down on Graham Baker to remind him that he is NOTHING without the B.O.B. The Big Baker Brand ceased to exist the moment he stabbed Oasis in the gut. Baker is a marked man with a bounty on his head. I can imagine his ass would come with an added bonus for anybody who dares to take him out of the competition. There’ll be plenty of takers. 39 to be exact.”

Chris understands that Graham Baker is in prime position to win the Clash, having the odds on favorite position anybody could ever ask for. But that doesn’t shake his resolve. He is adamant about being the last man standing. He is adamant about being the one to beat Arata Asakura at Final Destination. And he won’t let anybody else’s ambition come in his way.

“Hana, trust me. I know this is going to be a tough fight. I know that I shouldn’t be pushing myself. I could be starting a family. I could be living a comfortable life like Aria Jaxon. But wrestling gave me a second chance at life. It gave me an opportunity to be who I want to be. It helped me achieve the dreams that I could only wish for when I was six years old watching Black Scorpion on the television screen. This is EVERYTHING that I have ever wanted to be, Hana. How could I let it go? How could I be content with what I have done when I have a life full of fucking regrets to account for!? I love you, Hana. I love you more than anything else in life. But I have a responsibility to make things right. I let it play out normally as it would at Civil War. Heck, I was ready to sacrifice myself for the greater good. And yet, that wasn’t ENOUGH! How could I be so selfish!! I tried to free myself of all responsibility. I said I would beat Arata or die trying. AND I FUCKING DIED! I put the burden on everybody after me to fix what I started. That’s not fair, Hana! I CANNOT LET THESE PEOPLE DIE FOR WHAT I DID! I CANNOT LET THIS CONTINUE ANY LONGER! If they’re going to give me an opportunity, then I’ll earn it myself. Because this time, it’s a do-or-die situation. No. It is time for Arata to be DONE. No ifs or buts. There is no contingency plan because there is NO OPTION of failure. Arata has to be defeated. The Golden Dawn needs to be destroyed. And if that means, Arata Asakura takes his final breath then so be it. And I WILL NOT stop till it's done.”

Chris has never been this determined before. He knows what is at hand. He knows he needs to live and survive. He knows that he needs to win. The Golden Dawn has hurt enough people already. The winds of change are around the corner and Chris wants to be the one waving the flag because he has a sense of responsibility for everything that has happened in the past two years.

“So, I don’t care how badly people need this win. Michael Bishop can talk about how fucking tough he is-- News flash, if we weren’t tough, we would be in the wrong fucking business! He made it his identity to be an MMA tough guy and that’s why he boxed himself into being the Outlaw King. HE put the limiter on himself while the rest of us actually DID do what was necessary to be at the top. He can cry foul and say he was wronged all these yours but the cream always rises to the top. At this point, Michael Bishop is a rotten fucking piece of cheese that is stinking up the joint. And Jason? He can claim to be the King but when it comes to our paths crossing in the middle of the ring-- He can’t beat me. No matter HOW successful he gets, there’ll always be one constant in his life that will haunt him till his dying days. No matter HOW good he got, he was never good enough to beat ME. And the rest of the fucking world could line up and state their cases but that will be falling to deaf ears! Because there’s only ONE voice that needs to be heard.”

Chris gets up, motivated as ever.

“I will win the Clash of the Titans not because I NEED it like the rest of them.,. No. I will win the Clash because I FUCKING CAN! And at the end of this all, I will put an end to the Golden Dawn. I will win the OWA World Championship and bring Arata Asakura to justice for his crimes against humanity. The friendships. The partnerships. They don’t fucking matter and that’s been made clear in the past couple of weeks. Everybody is in it for themselves and it’s about fucking time I reciprocate that sentiment. Clash of the Titans will be the FIRST component of fixing my mistakes. Arata will be the LAST! And that’s a fucking promise, Hana. Your mentor is beyond gone. He lost EVERYTHING that made him who he is along the way to gain what he COULD have done on his own merit. But he got greedy. He got all high and mighty wanting to bring justice in an unjust world. It’s clear that he didn’t learn his lesson from Havoc’s mistakes. History has an odd habit of repeating itself and this time, Arata and I will meet at Final Destination once again. This time, the good will triumph once and for all. HUMANITY will win and I will happily bear the burden on my fucking back. It’s my fight, Hana. ONLY I … can end it. No matter WHAT or WHO it takes… You should know that better than anybody else.”

Hana’s concern turns into a faint smirk as she nods in agreement. 

The camera opens up inside a small cemetery, filled with open graves and prop tombstones, making it appear like a classic movie set from black & white horror films. The camera pans over to an open grave, where standing inside, shovel in hand, is The Banshee. She’s still showing some fresh bruises and dried blood from Jonetta’s mugging at the conclusion of Odyssey, her face full of anger. She continues shoveling out dirt, eventually looking directly into the camera, the expression on her face slowing morphing into a sadistic smile.
 
Do you feel them yet, ladies… those cold chills creeping up and down your spine? There is no shame in fearing the Harbinger of Doom… just stop pretending that you’re not afraid… But before I address the Clash itself, I first want to address the woman who could leave Rio with the OWA Women’s Championship… Diantha Rosso, I promise that our paths will cross again… much sooner than later… As stated on Odyssey, I truly am PROUD of what you have become since your return… You’ve proven to the world that, not only did you never lose a step during your self-imposed exile… but you’ve actually evolved into a FAR-MORE DANGEROUS woman, completely devoid of empathy and attachments, with a bloodlust that’s almost as insatiable as my own!
 
But Diantha, did I do some permanent damage to that head of yours when we fought in the Chaos Crypt? Have you forgotten the pain… the torment… the sheer anguish I put you through that night? Did you forget what happened later? You were considering retirement, foolishly believing that you’ve truly accomplished every possible career achievement one can dream about in the OWA… Until I showed you a GLIMPSE into the darkness… the same one that threatens to overtake me on a nightly basis… It was only a small “glimpse,” but it TERRIFIED you to your core! And so, for all the chaos, bloodlust, and violence that you claim The Banshee is currently missing and, supposedly, in-need-of… just watch the 2022 Women’s Clash, and you’ll see for yourself that The Banshee is still the violent and bloodthirsty monster today that I was over a year ago… when the final three in the Clash came down to you… me… and Dulce Torres... You won your second Clash partially at my expense, but that won’t happen this year, since you got your own priorities to look out for…
 
Good luck, my prodigy… Matsuda is still a tough champion, even at the tail-end of her career, but I’m confident that belt is yours to win… But you better KEEP that damn belt on your waist until Final Destination 4… don’t disappoint me…
 
Now, back to the Clash… Odyssey has lined up twenty-nine other ladies, all set to challenge The Banshee for that guaranteed title shot at FD4… some of whom aren’t publicly known to anyone outside of the front office… which makes scouting out all my potential victims a real hassle… However, out of every confirmed entrant for Odyssey’s Clash, there’s really just one person that I’m DYING to murder… JONETTA STONE!
 
Jonetta… yes, you managed to whip and choke me with a chain at the end of Odyssey… but don’t throw out your shoulder patting yourself on the back just yet, because the only thing you managed to accomplish from that ill-advised act was that you’ve ensure that my primary focus will ALWAYS be on you, Jonetta... and that goes double for the Clash itself! My bruises and torn flesh will heal, but even broken bones and shredded muscles won’t prevent The Banshee from DOMINATING THE 2022 WOMEN’S CLASH!
 
I may be locked in your sights now, Jonetta… but ever since Morrighan’s debut on Odyssey 42, in an Ascension to the Heaven’s qualifier match… against you, of all people… The Banshee has followed your career with a vested interest… our next battle occured on Odyssey 47, but once again, Morrighan came up short to that damn Stack Overflow… However, that loss allowed ME to exert my influence upon Morrighan’s mind… Thus allowing The Banshee to forever take control of this vessel!
 
That’s right, Jonetta… in some ways, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR AWAKENING THE BANSHEE! Had those matches ended differently, who knows what different path I might have been forced to walk…Yes, Jonetta, don’t you see? You unleashed your OWN WORST NIGHTMARE UPON YOURSELF! Just like I helped Diantha find her “ultimate self,” inadvertently creating my own Achilles heel… you helped The Banshee find my “ULTIMATE SELF,” and you will soon feel my fury, bitch!
 
Oh by-the-way Jonetta, do you recognize this?
 
The Banshee holds out a long, elegant necklace, made completely out of Ivory. The familiar necklace has been worn by Jonetta Stone in the past, as it's one of her most prized possessions.
 
HAHAHA! I took this from your own home, directly out of that “impenetrable” jewel safe you spent an entire paycheck on! Now, what could I possibly hope to accomplish with this? The monetary value alone makes it a very valuable object, but it’s the SENTIMENTAL VALUE that holds the most water for you, isn’t it? I think I’ll hold onto it for now, but let my possession of your most cherished item illustrate something clearly for you: There is NO place on this planet where you can escape me… even the place where you rest your head is compromised… Pound for pound, you’re one of the strongest women on Earth, but you’re now in a position that, as a self-professed poacher, you must really hate… you’re vulnerable… you’re prey, being openly hunted not only by me, but countless others who also want a piece of your ass… To those other women, I only have one thing to say: WAIT IN LINE, or MEET A GRUESOME FATE… because I OWE YOU FOR TWO YEARS OF HELL, Jonetta, and NO ONE WILL TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME!!! I swear Jonetta, I’m going to tear out your ribcage fully intact, simply so I can fucking play it like a damn xylophone! You’re dead, bitch… you just don’t know it yet…
 
Now, it’d be rude of me not to address some of the other confirmed Clash entrants, including the influx of new talent Odyssey has acquired… Talent like Remi Skyfire, a Kentucky redneck that claims to be the “Mozart of hitting things,” but like the corpse of Mozart himself, the only thing that Remi is doing impressively is absolutely nothing… just like a rotting corpse… Yes Remi, I’m sure you’re fully capable of destroying a “stripper pole if given a chance,” but being an athletically-tuned “whore” is something that Rebecca Filth perfected many moons ago, so let’s just hope you’re a much better fighter than you are a stripper!
 
Remi, you can call yourself The Blackheart until you’re blue in the face, but keep in mind that you’re not the first “rock and roll” chick to cross my path on Odyssey… However, the last one to try me no longer draws breath, so piss me off at your peril…
 
Many people claim that Rebecca Brookes is the real favorite to win after she “arrived” after her spirited defeat to Matsuda in the Promethean Chamber… but I’ve never once been amongst that crowd, because I don’t feel that Brookes has truly done anything SINCE Hardcore Havoc to continue warranting her status as a “favorite” to win the Clash this year… Brookes, the best thing you can hope to gain from the Clash is an early elimination… otherwise, you risk PERMANENT elimination… Feel like risking your life?
 
It seems like we get several new Japanese girls added to the roster on a yearly basis, but only a select few have ever found success in the West, and even then… some of them had to endure HELL itself, just to have a chance… Could Yuna Kurosawa be the first Joshi combatant since Azumi Goto to rocket up the roster? I wouldn’t hold your breath… For starters, Yuna talks about the honor and importance she feels by representing House Urahara… What the fuck is House Urahara, and more importantly… WHY SHOULD THE BANSHEE CARE!?! Is this pro-wrestling or Game of Thrones? I sincerely ask now that Llorona is running Odyssey (for the moment, but rest assured, I am coming for Llorona in the future. No one shoots at The Banshee and gets away with it…), because Yuna’s “reward” for failing to become the top Openweight Championship contender was to be given a spot in the Clash, defying all logic and common sense that one would hope to see from the GM! It’s like how Devi Krysis continues to get all these undeserved title shots despite having zero signature wins in the last few months… And now that Llorona is in charge, I expect things will get far worse now…
 
All that being said, The Banshee isn’t treating anyone like a joke this time… because ANYONE can get lucky during the Clash, and it only takes a single moment to lose it all… So what if Yuna Kurosawa is just another token Japanese wrestler feeding the OWA pipeline back to Tokyo? Regardless of whether if’s the Land of the Rising Sun, the Fighting Sun, the Dying Sun, or whatever the hell you want to call Japan… having any kind of pre-established relationship with the OWA won’t give you any kind of advantage against The Banshee… and in the Clash, everyone will NEED every available advantage if they even want a prayer of a chance to stop me from headhunting every sorry bitch in the ring at any given time!
 
Another fortunate daughter to gain an entry into the Clash… after a loss, no less… is another new roster member, and that’s “Bristol’s Butterball"… I mean “Buttercup,” not that it’s any better… Christ, I could easily just run down a list of fat jokes here or something, especially since I know next-to-nothing about Yasmine, other than that she lost the same match as Yuna, yet was also rewarded with a Clash spot by Llorona… If Llorona insists on padding my body count, so be it, but let’s hope Yasmine isn’t on a pain-free diet… because, if so, consider the Clash your fucking cheat day! Bon appetit!
 
Someone that reminds me of myself, at least in certain aspects, is another newcomer to Odyssey that calls herself “The Cold Hearted Kitsune,” Ruri Kuzunoha, a second-generation superstar with some severe mental issues… I’m assuming that “love is plastic” is some sort of sex code or motto, which is something that has ZERO relevance in the Clash, where bloodshed and brutality are the important things that matter in a match already so full of chaos!
 
Yes, I’m beating a dead horse here, but how lucky are so many of these new “hot-shit” Odyssey signees to get offered championship opportunities after only one or two matches? When Morrighan first debuted on Odyssey two years ago, it was for a qualifying spot in the Ascension to the Heavens match for FD2… But my first actual title opportunity was later EARNED in a six-person match… a match that I won… But that opportunity came a couple of months later… Hell, I’ve only ever had a couple of legitimate title shots, and those matches usually consisted of MORE THAN ONE OPPONENT! But not even Llorona’s corruption will prevent me from winning this year’s Clash!
 
There seems to be more EAW trash blowing through in OWA recently, including the super-sexualized former stripper Felix Hartley… wow, Rebecca Filth should really file an infringement lawsuit on some of these new girls, since they all seem to be… well, whores… And despite Rebecca’s extremely lucky run with the Openweight Belt, Odyssey has proven NOT to be a hospitable place for pole-riding sluts with pro-wrestling aspirations!
 
Felix, here’s some free advice… unless you enjoy pain, humiliation, and the taste of your own blood, I’d suggest staying in the back at the catering station, likely where Yasmine will be frequenting… Because if you dare to enter my ring without my permission, I won’t just send you back over the ropes… I’ll send you to the back on a stretcher… or inside a body bag… I’m out for blood, and the blood that flows the freest usually comes from grimy bitches like you.
 
Because El Dorado Rent-A-Car Enterprises are attached by the hip, it makes more sense to me to address both Skylar Arceneaux and her pet rhino Nakita DuBov at once, especially since Nakita’s brain is too small to process words that have more than three syllables anyways… Skylar, I’ve watched you try to literally BUY YOURSELF a championship… but Alyssa Grace humbled you from corner to corner, and you haven’t even come close to another opportunity since then, but you certainly carry the same arrogance as bitches like Jonetta and Llorona, with the exception that they have ACTUALLY WON titles before, whereas the only gold you own is what your checkbook bought you…
 
This Clash is supposed to be every woman for herself, but I have the feeling that Skylar will try to use her guard dog Nakita in order to gain any advantage she can… because Skylar is not a real fighter, just another ruthless CEO who also thinks she’s Tyler Durden…
 
Nakita, you’re like a cartoon bull that charges at anything red, but you do carry a lot of power behind you… However, I’m not one to wave around a red cape, tricking the bull to go where I desire… If you truly want to measure power, you will never have to ask The Banshee twice… or in some cases, even once!
 
Did you hear that, Skylar? You felt the need to say on Odyssey that Nakita DuBov is stronger than me and Jonetta Stone… but if you just wanted a side-by-side comparison, all you had to do was ask, especially since Nakita sold her free will to you in exchange for fleeting relevancy, because I’ll even admit that Nakita was directionless without your sad little Kickstarter company… Now I can watch you both be directionless at once, shortly before I send your souls straight to hell after I fling your corpses over the ropes in Rio!
 
Oh, and Skylar? Don’t think for one second that I believe you fully endorse Nakita to win the Clash, which is already a laughable scenario in itself… Your massive ego won’t allow it, despite whatever you may have told Liz on Odyssey. Dorado Enterprises may have a good day on Wall Street, but in Rio… my street will be that ring, and Dorado Enterprises, I promise everyone… will have an extremely bad day at the Clash…
 
It’s sad to see just how quickly your star has fallen, Serena Bennett… you came out of the gates strongly, but you squandered away your momentum because you love the sound of your own voice way too much… and now look, you’ve been reduced to a warm-up opponent for Devi Krysis… whom herself has made a career on being a warm-up opponent… So forgive me if your loud barking now longer causes me to turn my head in curiosity… you no longer register as a “threat” to me…
 
Now onto Elizabeth Karlson… I’m not going to criticize you for accepting a title opportunity that, if offered, EVERYONE would have taken! Many didn’t think you’d be able to take Matsuda’s title away from her, but I was honestly impressed by how you took Matsuda herself to her very limit! However, I don’t think your championship match LOSS warrants your overconfidence that you’re now the “favorite” to win the Clash… Scott Oasis is nothing but a brainless action figure in an expensive suit, whose only usefulness is signing checks, but rich people all think alike, in that they believe their wallets can buy them success… If you win it all, Liz, it’ll be on the back of all the hard work you’ve done lately.
 
Liz, I will warn you right here and now though… I’m not going to rip you apart for the choice you made, as I stated earlier… However, I am going to rip you apart… limb by limb, appendage by appendage, shithouse brick by shithouse brick… You honestly believe that you’ll even get the chance to toss my “sorry ass” over the top? You want to punch your ticket to Final Destination, but I’m going to punch you so hard that you’ll wake up AFTER FD4 concludes… You’re already talking to the 2022 Clash winner… now just to come to terms with it…
 
Hana Nakajima… like Jonetta, me and you have a lot of scores that need settling… I’m still pissed that you needed Havoc to act as your “in-ring cheat code” in order to pin me just long enough to beat me, but I can feel some of that anger morphing… right into sheer pity for the broken-down spectacle you’ve become, like a crazy Vietnam veteran that still sees the enemy everywhere… Quite frankly, I really don’t care because I hate you passionately… but so do so many others, so I won’t’ selfishly destroy you all myself… However, I will get my vengeance in blood, and I will redeem myself from being screwed out of the Athena’s Cup from your demonic boy-toy when I personally eliminate you from the Clash…
 
How pathetic a woman you are, Hana… Do you want to know why you’re never satisfied? It’s because you’re nothing more than a petty… jealous… plagiarist… You see something you desire, knowing full-well that you don’t possess the necessary talents or skills needed to get that which you desire… so you either call 1-800-Honey-Save-My-Sorry-Ass just to have your demonic Don Juan save the day for you, or you manipulate everyone around you into believing that you’re something original, special, and extraordinary… But I can see past your amateur illusions, Empress… You’re nothing more than a hodgepodge of Hollywood clichés cobbled together to give people the illusion that you’re an extremely accomplished wrestler… and yes, I said Hollywood, not Japan cinema, which may sound surprising to some… but Hana, I remember that I’ve seen women like you before… thanks to Hollywood… and especially thanks to the 80s, because that’s what Hana Nakajima is to me: a living, breathing parody of 80s films… Don’t worry, I’ll share my evidence later, but there is one thing that should’ve been evident from the start: you will not triumph this time… Havoc can’t save you from me… no one can!
 
NAMI, I will give you credit where credit is due… not many people have suffered The Torment of The Banshee as intensely as you did, but not only did you come back from that broken arm… You’re the current OWA Goddesses Champion! Talk about a monumental bounce back from nearly retreating back to your "rock bottom…" In my own way, perhaps selfishly… I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished since your return, NAMI…
 
However, being “proud” of someone DOESN’T MEAN that I also like that person… as Diantha Rosso will soon learn in the future… so don’t think for one second that I won’t just as quickly snap your other arm on the spot, because when it comes to winning this year’s Clash… there is absolutely NOTHING that The Banshee WON’T DO to ensure that I walk away the sole survivor… And since I’ve brilliantly managed to isolate myself from every woman in that locker room, it gives me an unique tactical advantage that most of those other hoes wish they possessed: I have no positive emotional or sentimental attachments to anyone fighting in the Clash, so I won’t feel any guilt or shame whatsoever when I snap your spinal cord in six different places… before casually tossing your broken body over the top like an unwanted American Girl doll…
 
It’s really a shame to see someone like Rebecca Filth with a gold belt not made by Dolce and Gabbana around her waist… Every moment that railroad skank holds onto the Openweight Championship greatly devalues it, to the point that even those toy Styrofoam replica OWA belts hold far more prestige than the Openweight belt does now! So, for Rebecca and NAMI, both current champions participating in the Clash… cross my path, and The Banshee will proceed to show you… WITH PREJUDICE… where those championship belts really belong!
 
Filth, you really do have some delusions of grandeur if you believe that you’re going to leave the Clash as the winner and sole survivor… because you’re not going to survive ME once I get my nails clasped around your nasty, STD-infested throat… And believe me, bitch, when I say that you won’t be able to hide in a corner and masturbate your way to victory, which you’ve casually done in the past, if I’m not mistaken… I’m coming for you, Filth… I’m coming for your blood, whether it spills directly from your mouth… neck… or your diseased cooch, it really doesn’t fucking matter because I’m going to… literally… STOP… YOU… DEAD! Then I’ll toss your deflated "blow-up doll" body over the top for good measure…
 
Daisy, Daisy, Daisy… It’s a shame to see your trajectory on a downward spiral, because I still believe that you have some fight left in you, even though many of the dirt-sheets and older fans think your career… like Cloud’s… is entering its “twilight stage,” if not there already… Unfortunately, I don’t think that we’ll be seeing any of that leftover fighting spirit anytime soon, especially not down in Rio… but I’m still not taking any chances…
 
You know Daisy… if you want to do yourself a favor… you should just throw yourself over the ropes when you see The Banshee approaching, leaving behind a trail of destruction and death behind me… Spare yourself the heartache… the shame of coming up short once again… But hey, don’t do it for me… Do it for Cupcake! Cupcake whispered to me that he secretly wants you to eliminate yourself the moment you share the same ring with The Banshee… Cupcake said he doesn’t want you to get hurt… He’s concerned about your safety, Daisy… and just remember, if you’re standing in my path… then you also should be concerned about your safety as well!
 
The Banshee and April Song have some unfinished business from last year… but then again, that business was more Morrighan’s than my own… and anyone that despises Havoc’s little slut is “OK” in my book! April, you’re someone that I’ll keep my eyes on closely, because I know just how skilled and experienced you are… Others may be sleeping on you since your return, but not me, April… I remember how you choked the life out of Morrighan, forcing her to pass out entirely… No one knows submission holds like you, but fortunately for me… this is the Clash, not some submission holds demonstration!
 
It seems like Rebecca Brookes, Serena Bennett, and Dulce Torres had some sort of lovers’ spat, before big sister Revy showed up to remind everyone… that’s she’s a horribly deranged person, if she thinks that Aria’s presence as the GM was the glue that binds them all together… Jesus Christ, I think I’m going to be sick just thinking about it… Revy, I don’t like Llorona either, but you can thank Jonetta for enslaving me to her will… But take my advice: those other ladies will only drag you down… and really, how much lower can you go in your career? Make your own path, Revy… stop treading on the tires of others, unless you desire your career to stay in the shadows…
 
Dulce Torres, I don’t really have much to say to you anymore, since I’ve already destroyed you twice in a row now, finally finding that redemption… that validation, confirming that, yes, The Banshee is better than you, Dulce… However, you were chiefly responsible for my exit from the Clash last year, so I’m not only refusing to overlook you this time… in fact, eliminating you from the Clash entirely is a priority of mine!
 
This journey of mine began two years ago… the journey to headline Final Destination... winning the Clash of the Titans… Soon, that journey will be made reality… no matter how much blood I need to spill in order to attain it!

 
 

(DT The Ruler is shown on camera, walking through the held-open doorway to his office in Seattle, Washington, with an Upright Oreck vacuum cleaner in hand. He sets it near the doorway and sits down at his desk, picking up a manila folder with several pages he started to read. A moment later, a skinny middle-aged man in a brown suit entered the office, accompanied by a member of the Security team, and sat in one of the two chairs across from DT. DT put down the folder on his desk and looked at the man)
 
DT The Ruler: Do you know why you’re here?

Employee: No, sir.

DT The Ruler: Good. You’re not supposed to.  *DT picked up the folder and looked at the papers again while talking* I checked your records, and you…have good attendance, never had to see Human Resources, even does overtime here and there: all good things. However, I need to discuss something with you…

…. now.

Did you see Kingdom last week?

Employee: I did, sir. Your match was very good-

DT The Ruler: It was not good. I was slighted. That already tells me you’re lying, and I don’t like liars on my payroll.

Employee: But you did really we-

DT The Ruler: If I did well, I would’ve won. But some absolute nonsense happened. No worries in that regard, though. I did want to speak to you about something else.

Employee: …. I beg your pardon?

DT The Ruler: Before the match, that degenerate Ali Gory made an accusation that connected myself to a known sex offender that hasn’t been talked about for over a year by news media on a major scale. Now, I’ve only been in OWA for a month, yet some random was able to make a very personal accusation about me.

Employee: I-I’m sorry, sir, I missed that part of the sh-

DT The Ruler: Nonsense. You told me you watched Kingdom, so how could you miss that?


Employee: I-I-I-


DT The Ruler: With that accusation, connecting me to Jeffrey Epstein of all people, you’re in here because you’re one of a few people who archive my travels and expenses during them.

Employee: I promise you, sir, I didn’t say a wo-

DT The Ruler: OK…. *DT The Ruler reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a 9MM pistol and checked that it was loaded; the man started to fear for his life* You see that vacuum over there? I bought it off some college kid who needed the money; it’s nothing special to be honest. You’re going to admit how Ali Gory was able to connect me in any way to that pedophile, or I will be using that vacuum myself to clean your brains up off the floor.

Employee: *crying* Sir, I really don’t know what’s going on. Please, just believe me. I signed the NDA and stuck by it ever since I’ve been here! Please, just spare me!

DT The Ruler: You’ve been half-truthing the whole time you’ve been here. So, I’m going to ask you one more time, and I will ask you very sternly: how was that fucking prick able to connect me to Epstein?

Employee: *shaking and watery-eyed* Sir, I-I-I have no idea. I’m not lying to you. I’ve said nothing to anyone! Please, just don’t kill me.


DT: ……. You may go.

Employee: I’m… OK?

DT The Ruler: Yes, you’re OK. *puts away the 9MM*

Employee: Thank you, sir. Thank you.

DT The Ruler: I don’t want your thanks. I want you to make sure you’re doing your job and you’re doing your job as you’re contracted to.

(The employee nodded and exited the office, accompanied by security; after he left, DT waved for one of his Security Guards to approach him)

DT The Ruler: Hold him in the Waiting Room. Get the other two so I can speak to them. After I’m through with them, I’ll inform you or your associates of the next step. You understand?

Security Guard: Yes, sir.

(The Security Guard exited the room and the double doors to the office were closed. DT The Ruler stood up and walked to his window, looking down at the cloudy Downtown atmosphere)


 
 
I have not been part of the Omega Wrestling Alliance very long. I’ve only had two matches so far. But I walked into this shoddy organization, this chaotic federation, with the first objective to set a standard in the ring and out that a lot of those ingrates don’t: be a man of class, sophistication, and one that commands immediate respect without pushback. Not for just past accomplishments but because I position myself to be better than the typical excrement of trailer parks that infests Professional Wrestling. And from the get-go, starting with Stark, all I’ve received is insolence, knowing damn well I deserve better and the best by default. But last week was the last straw. In my mission to…help…the reprobates of OWA be better men for the sake of not just the organization but the rest of their below-average lives, I looked to make them more upstanding and give them an example of a man to respect and follow.

But after what occurred on Kingdom, it looks like I have to be…meaner…

So, a couple of changes are going to happen. I still have the goal of being The Standard for what a Professional should be, but I’m not going to allow the same type of shenanigans like MIST to ruin my reputation and get in the way of what I want to do in OWA. The atmosphere is ripe for the Sun to break through and shine on The Master and The Ruler. I’m not going to just allow the lowest of the low to one-up me any longer. So, I will start by handling some business behind the scenes and outside the ring with Mr. Raivo, and the moves I’m going to make many will find out soon enough. But they’re not up for discussion. Alongside that, I see that I am confined to a match that places myself, The Ruler of Men, against a whole array of degenerates that do not deserve to be respected. I look at the card for Clash of the Titans, and despite many people seeing a big match with over fifteen people from both Kingdom and Olympus, what I see is a lot of unexpecting individuals to take my anger out on.

And I mean A LOT.

And I welcome it. I don’t mind entering the ring respectfully, with my security ARMED, and torturing the many men that make up the highway pileup that I’ve been observing OWA as. And to be honest: the worst thing to happen in OWA is for yours truly to participate as one of the vehicles, because if decide to enter the wreck, I’m going to enter with the monster truck and run over everyone else.

(DT The Ruler pulls out a cigar and lights it, then continues to watch the movement of compact vehicles and Metro buses below him)

The Clash will be another chance for me to make a statement, a statement that goes beyond, “Oh, he put up a great showing”. No. No, no, no, no. No. I’m not wrestling in matches to just showcase what I can do. I don’t just wrestle to dominate for a moment and stop, then let my opponent do the same. Preposterous. I wrestle to win and continuously win. To put the over-talkers and the uncivilized where they belong: below my feet. It’s laughable and borderline disrespectful that any man would want to enter a match with the same mentality as The Little Engine That Could. It’s a disgusting perspective and a good way to be considered Mid if that’s what a person’s goal is. The Ruler, though, will not settle for just… the mid-range.

No. I’ve been through too much in my life to just accept second place…or third or fourth or whatever isn’t first. I’ve seen many enter competition and just accept defeat after a minute of trying, even in other professions, to the point that they participate like they’re just “Happy to Be Here” and “Made It Farther Than Expected”, talking about their immediate experience like some sports analyst rather than an actual competitor, letting the warrior’s spirit just dissipate and be blown away by the wind. I know damn well I can do better than that, and deep down: many of those participants know that as well. I don’t train everyday to “get close”, and real men should all be that way.

I was at Kingdom last week and outside my match and business discussion, I have been taking mental notes on the competition there, even the people I haven’t faced, and I know damn well that everyone is extremely beatable, and I see no reason why I can’t dominate. With the pent-up rage I have been conserving, I will love sending their asses out of the match no problem. Though Kingdom has more participants than the other brand, I see no reason to be highly concerned by any of them. And I see one Mr. Jack Daito looking to prepare for it by…being a jerk. Though I was handling some business backstage, I happened to catch his Open Challenge, and I must say it was one of the most unimpressive things I have ever seen be broadcasted. It’s really easy to bully pretty much children- though in reality they’re just rookies- and it’s even easier to brag about it. On a scale of one to ten, that demonstration was a big yawn.

A Golden Yawn! YES!

I mean if the man can’t even adhere to the rules he sets for a match against a newcomer to the business, what should make someone like myself believe the man is some menace? Daito probably thought he looked fearsome, but I look at him even below Sasha Fierce. Hopefully he does the right thing at Clash of the Titans, though, and doesn’t wear anything from women’s side of the Ivy Park collection to the Pay-Per-View.

And as for one Ali Gory, I will “even the score” and take a pound of flesh from him. That “win” he achieved will be the last time he one-ups me, and I will make sure he doesn’t get a chance to do anything at all. He will realize who his Master and Ruler is in due time, and that time is approaching pretty fast for not just him but everyone else in the Clash match. But despite keeping up with Kingdom’s… entrants and how underwhelming they are, I’ve been also watching a bit of Olympus, and I must say: the competition from that brand is extremely comical. The funniest jester I observed off that brand recently was one Mr. Ryo Sakazaki, a known underachiever and jabroni, hilarious to the point that even one of the commentators- who I’d expect to not be biased- scuffed at the idea of him being a threat.

(DT laughs a little then takes another puff of his cigar)

Must hurt. Even after he wins, they talk about the man like he’s done nothing but eat Flaming Hot Cheetos and play some 2K game all day. *laughs a little more* It’s much like Mr. Russell Westbrook now, where even when he does well in an NBA Basketball game for the Fakers, the news media will point out his turnovers or the fact that his assist numbers are low. That’s exactly why The Ruler must change course before I go any further in this company. Mr. Sakazaki will be fighting for a long time to be respected, all because he didn’t do what he was supposed to when he had his initial chances, and the first way to start is being prepared for any and all- excuse my French- bullshit coming at the Clash of the Titans. As I’ve observed within the Civil War event last month, you have to be more prepared for these types of events, since desperation is a very serious trait that many must take into account when it comes to matches that can lead to title contention and notoriety. And as I noted from Olympus even further, the stench of desperation from two of the most hilarious assholes with money- Mr. Graham Baker and Mr. Remington Ivory Prescott- can be smelt from even here.

(DT The Ruler laughs again)

You’d think two assholes who can literally cry into one-thousand-dollar bills and then wipe their asses with another stack of them would keep their composure a bit better on TV at least, but I guessed I overestimated their ability to do so! When you really have money and control of major assets and thousands of employees across several countries and a reputation as a man of class and dignity, you know damn well it’s better to be publicly in control of your emotions- even when you’re pissed off- than to scream angrily into a microphone about great you are and how lowly everyone else is. And Mr. Prescott needs to tell whoever drives him around to pump the brakes on that “I am worth more than everyone combined here” gibberish. He knows damn well if he really, REALLY had the ability to buy everyone in OWA, he would’ve by now. But even he knows damn well he’s just talking like the average rapper on a diss track. Business decisions like that- if you really want a company or assets within- you don’t skip around; you at least attempt to make it happen or shut up and move on. As a man with his hand in many cookie jars, he should know better than to make childish statements like that in public, especially when men like myself exist, men who are worth more than whatever a company like PresCorp could offer. And Graham Baker, Mr. Former Commissioner, continues to be just as hilarious as he was at Civil War. I really can’t complain or bash Richie Rich #2 because he’s been so entertaining for me, I have just *laughs a bit more* I have to just stop and laugh a bit about his antics and the stuff happening with him.
 
These guys are so entertaining; future Kings of Comedy, but not men that stand a chance.


(The office phone rang, and DT walked to his desk and puts out his cigar in a glass ashtray on the table; he then pressed a button)

DT The Ruler: Speak.

Random Voice on the Phone: The files are ready.

DT The Ruler: Bring them.

(DT The Ruler sat down in his chair and then heard an unusual knock on his door a moment later)

DT The Ruler: Enter.

(One of his female secretaries walked into the office and handed him two manila folders, similar to the one he looked a little while ago)

DT The Ruler: Thank you; you may exit.

(The secretary walked out of the office, and then two other women, dressed in more business-casual attire, were accompanied by Security to sit in the two chairs in front of DT The Ruler’s desk)

DT The Ruler: Do you why you’re here? Either of you?

(Both females shook their head)


DT The Ruler: Good, because you’re not supposed to. Looking at both of your files at a glance, I see that one of you has a problem being on-time. Company Policy clearly states you need to be not even one minute late.


Female Employee 1: I apologize, sir.


DT The Ruler: You better do more than say I’m sorry. You need to take Corrective Action and be here when you’re supposed to. Tardiness is unacceptable and unprofessional; it shows a lack of care for your position. Besides tightening up there, did either of you watch Kingdom last week?

(Both females respond *no sir*)

DT The Ruler: Fair enough; it is not an obligation to watch my matches in the Omega Wrestling Alliance. However, I will tell you right now why you’re here, and we will get to the bottom of this. Before my match occurred, my opponent, a person who shouldn’t know a damn thing about me outside of me being superior to him, found out some classified information. And with that information, he made an inflammatory statement, connecting myself with one Jeffrey Epstein somehow, a man who hasn’t been on heavy rotation in News Media for over a year. Now, you both are two of three people who assist with archiving my business and travel expenses, so I need to know right now: how was he able to get such information?

Female Employee 1: I have no idea, sir. I just come in and do what I’m told.

Female Employee 2: Sir, I’m the same; I haven’t to spoken to anyone about anything.

Female Employee 1: For all we know, he could just be saying something random to irritate you.

DT The Ruler: OK, someone is lying here, and I do not like liars on my payroll. I’ve spoken to the third person of your department, and he said the exact same things you both did. And one of you three isn’t being truthful. So, with my reputation on the line, one of you will ‘fess up today or all of you will be… terminated.

Female Employee 1: Sir, I told you already: I don’t know anything about that. You can’t just accuse m-

(DT The Ruler pulled out his 9MM and immediately shot the first woman in her left shoulder, startling the other one immediately after; the first woman fell to the floor and started screaming in pain while crying, and the second looked frightened at her co-worker)

DT The Ruler: You don’t raise your voice at me, woman. *Looking at the second employee* Now, you: you will tell me how that information got out.

Female Employee 2: *shaking in her chair* I-I-I-I don’t know! I swear, sir! Please don’t hurt me! *The woman started to shed tears* I didn’t tell anyone anything!

DT The Ruler: You both get paid six figures to be here, as well as your co-worker. There is absolutely no reason for any of you to let that information get out. The reputation I am looking to maintain may have been tainted because of that accusation. When Black Men in America are connected to any deviant sexual activity, especially connected to known sex offenders and those who abused children, that stain never goes away, even if proven to be false. Michael Jackson up until his death is a perfect example. Bill Cosby, R. Kelly: men with reputations ruined because of their sexual deviance. I refuse to let that happen to me.

(The first Female Employee is still screaming in pain on the ground, grabbing her shoulder but not being able to control the bleeding)

DT The Ruler: Neither of you understand how angry I am. But you will.

Female Employee 2: Sir, just please don’t hurt me! I did nothing wrong!

DT The Ruler: Oh, I won’t hurt you. *DT pressed a button under his desk* I have people for that. And as for you and your co-worker on the ground: someone will confess today, or you all will be gone.

(Two men, dressed in all black suits with ski masks on, quickly entered the room and took both women away. Both of them tried to fight against being grabbed, but they were easily overpowered and forced out of the office. DT stood up and then signaled for one of his custodians to enter the room and start cleaning up the blood from the wood flooring)

DT The Ruler: Make sure the floor is spotless; leave no evidence. I don’t care if you have to replace the wood planks. Get to it.

Janitor: Yes, sir.


(DT The Ruler lit his cigar again and walked towards his office window, seeing it still was cloudy in Seattle)

 
Laying down The Law is easier than it looks. You set the ground rules, and assure that those rules aren’t violated. When you are a man with authority, the moment you don’t exercise that authority against those who stand against the rules you set or who blatantly disregard the atmosphere you are looking to establish, that is when chaos occurs and that is when people start to lose respect for you. At Clash of the Titans, in that Clash bout, the most important thing I will do is lay down The Law with my fist and after that: get the W. My first two matches were enough to tell me what to look forward to in OWA. The many uncivilized men that will enter the ring with me will learn who their Master and Ruler is and will learn very quickly, as I’ll be even more prepared for this. I’ve been through many instances worse than two losses on paper in the past. I’ve had my neck all but broken by a sweaty savage in a sneak attack and was still able to come back months later when most don’t return at all. I’ve been through Hellish matches with guys stronger than anything I’ve crossed so far, and I still am standing and able-bodied. Set-ups like the Clash don’t bother me one bit. As an experienced competitor, you have to let people know right away what they’re dealing with, while at the same time understand what to look out for. Civil War revealed the possibilities to be near endless with what these guys will try just to get a win. But The Ruler has not revealed everything yet, and that should scare every single wrestler that will enter that ring.

 


 
(DT The Ruler walks back to his desk and turns on his widescreen television to re-watch his match from Kingdom last week, and the camera fades out, showing both him and the janitor, still cleaning up the floor)

Desire. Every person in the world holds desire in something this world has to offer. An amount of wealth, mastery of a craft, respect from our peers, desire is what drives the human race to live in this world. However, desire is fickle. It changes as people change throughout the course of time as it has a property to bring enlightenment to those who move forward with it. An event happens to bring forth a new idea to be born in their head, a word or statement produces a spark of genius to set their desire ablaze, whatever it may be, desire can be changed in an instant due to outside circumstances. That’s what this season is all about, right? The end of the year for this industry is almost like a planetary conjunction. Everyone’s desires all shift from whatever they previously had because the moment the words “Clash of the Titans” is echoed through the ring announcers, the commentators, the fans, and the Internet, everyone desires to be the one left standing to headline the greatest wrestling event in the world against one of the world champions of this company. Your placement on the card, the experience you hold, the obsession with championship gold, everyone no matter the background never differentiates from the desire to be the last man standing. Everyone has in their desire to be able to change the course of where The Omega Wrestling Alliance is headed and right now, the course of where we are headed is about to be decided whether it was what is desired by the management here or the decision completely alters the course of what was expected from this match. Matches of this scale and caliber are expected to carry these sorts of stakes because look at what this match is. Thirty men are determined to etch their names in the history book of greatness, walk the path of the headline challenger for a world championship opportunity of their choice, and be known as the man to join an exclusive club of winners who have gone on to become the champion at the end of it all. Aria Jaxon, Jeff X, and my own brother in Dynasty with Darkane, this elite group of individuals have gone on to the biggest show of the entire year and have been given the torch to be the main talent of this promotion. This match is a showcase of the talent we have on the roster who are hungry and filled to the brim with the desire to share the same position these people were in to shift their career in a direction that would either never happen before this match happened or would be delayed if they did not secure this victory otherwise. Desire may be the word for what these people have inside of them when coming into this match, but the desire is for another word dangling before them to cause the planetary conjunction of desire I mentioned previously: opportunity. Opportunity is a powerful motivator because opportunity provides many methods to gain what you desire, especially this opportunity. Do you desire more money in the bank account to be able to provide financial security for yourself and others you care about? This opportunity will provide that for you. Does your desire include the need of a world championship to carry on your shoulder to be able to make your desire a reality? There is no better opportunity for that than this one you see at the end of the biggest test of endurance a wrestler can be able to go through. What about the opportunity to put yourself in the history books and be a legendary figure in the industry as a whole or even in my case, add on the legacy you have already made to secure your figurative immortality for the entire world? The opportunity is right there and many people will tell you all you have to do is outlast the rest who decide to enter this gauntlet but if anyone knows how much easier it is said than done, look no further than me. I’ve entered matches like this multiple times over my storied career and there are literal dreams hinging on the 3% chance they will be the one standing at the end of this with all the praise and adulation raining down upon them as they win this match. I’ve imagined that dream in my mind many times entering these situations, but not once have I achieved this feat. It goes to show how brutal and ruthless this match actually is in the most deceptive of ways. Some of us are so stubborn that the chances aren’t going to deter us from gaining the opportunity to see our desires transformed into reality, right? The gift to have the opportunity to change your path in a mere instant is too desirable from us to turn away from and that’s why everyone in this match, they will do whatever it takes to be the last man standing. To those who have been chosen to take part in this Clash of the Titans, that’s the lengths we will go to be able to earn the opportunity that has been presented to us and for those who will not push themselves to the very brink of nearly collapsing inside of the ring to be the one left standing, they will be the chaff separated from the wheat as time moves forward. The opportunity everyone waits for has returned to call upon the one who stands above the rest and this year, I’m not going to be the one to be passed over like I am every single year this event happens, no matter the company. I am going to win this match and claim that opportunity I need to achieve the desire I have for myself and to do that, I’m willing to sacrifice and take measures I’ve never taken in my career until now. You do not want to test me, but you will.

Ever since The Dynasty’s victory at Civil War, I know I have been silent and hidden from the view of the world around me. I know that I have not spoken directly in a forum such as this to those who have been watching me, the company as a whole, or even my brothers within The Dynasty itself. My self-imposed exile was one of protection for The Dynasty and even with this, it was a time of reflection. Dark thoughts were swirling through my mind during the time I was away because even though we had been victorious in our endeavor against Scott Oasis and Eon Blue, what did I have to show for it? In fact, what did The Dynasty have to show for it? Survival? What has survival done for this brotherhood since our victory? Darkane has been doing whatever he wants to do with Titan, Matt Miles has essentially dropped off the face of the Earth since his match with Noah Reigner and RIP for the Immortal Heavyweight Championship, Kazuya Iwade has returned to Japan, Big Naheem remains missing since his destruction at the hands of Eon Blue and his crew, and the only remnants of the brotherhood I had established in the name of revitalizing the prestige of championships dishonored by this industry is only Elijah Hampton and myself. The Dynasty has become barren and slowly creeping with death on its doorstep and to be honest, those voices of darkness Aizen had kept at bay with his psychosomatic illusions are starting to make sense to me. What has happened to Jacob Senn? After the final demise of Strong Style Wrestling and since returning to The Omega Wrestling Alliance, what have I done? I returned with The Phantom Troupe in the goal of bring chaos and destruction in the name of John Doe, took his faction and made it into a brotherhood, watched everyone else around me succeed and be given opportunities beyond the wildest dreams of a wrestler in this business, and yet what do I have to show for it? Darkane was able to gain a championship reign strong enough to be considered one of the greatest champions in this company’s history, Elijah Hampton has been able to use The Dynasty to create a spotlight for himself to shine brighter than he ever would have done previously as a beacon of prestige, Matt Miles had become the heir to the throne of world champion evident by his match on Olympus and the mastermind in the success of Dynasty in Civil War, Kazuya was able to gain renown, fame, championships, and money he would have never gained without the assistance of The Dynasty, but me? As much as I was gleaming with pride to see the men I helped succeed in ways no one before had achieved in such a time, I was left after the smoke had settled with nothing to show for what I had done. There was no grand championship reign for me to bask in as any hope of that was stolen from me, no spotlight for me to take pleasure in as I was left in the shadow of obscurity while my brothers became the shining beacons of prestige The Dynasty was meant to be, and I wasn’t even able to revel in the success we had in the Doomsday Triple Cage as I was left behind after I was unceremoniously removed from the match. At some point, the voices lurking in the darkness of my isolation whispered the truth in me that the industry today has lost respect in my name as a veteran still standing here today and what evidence has been given to them to think otherwise? I had been left to the slaughter as a martyr for my brothers in Dynasty in Hardcore Havoc and Civil War, a sin eater to devour the violence and destruction inflicted upon The Dynasty to bear the burden on my shoulders for them to be the prestigious champions I viewed them as, and left to be the one disrespected and viewed as nothing more than a leech to them for the entire time we have been The Dynasty. What was I able to gain from all of this work and effort I had put into the foundation of prestige I wanted from this brotherhood because you look at where I started with this and where I am now, what changed? Everyone around me succeeded and rose to the heights they hoped to achieve, but me? I’m right back in The Clash of the Titans with no advancement in my career, hoping and praying the opportunity I spoke of is placed into my hands, and still met with the vitriol and disgust of everyone around me who wishes for me to simply retire and never walk inside of a wrestling ring again. These were the thoughts swirling into my mind and bringing me closer to a path of darkness and violence I don’t think I would have been able to recover from, but Aizen cleared my mind and I saw the path to be able to not only restore the prestige of The Dynasty after seeing my brothers fall after we endured the Doomsday Triple Cage, but to bring a prestige to my name that has been lost for a very long time. To be able to make the brothers of The Dynasty proud and not for the world to simply find me to be a leech who has been siphoning the success these men have achieved for themselves in this year, I must do what I have never done in my career before in winning The Clash of the Titans and making my path to Final Destination clear in challenging for the world championship of my choosing in the headline match of the event. There is no other choice for me to be able to restore what has been tarnished by those around me, slandering my name at every given moment as a man of the past who no longer has the ability to reach the heights he once was at, and I don’t care who stands in my path as they will merely be the trials and tribulations I must conquer to achieve this desire I have made for myself.

Whether those whispers in the darkness were actually some supernatural force producing fear in the eyes of Eon Blue or they were simply the voices of those who produce the slander against my name manifesting itself into this shroud which hung over me during my isolation after Civil War, they were silenced thanks to the words and maybe even the illusion of Aizen when he visited me. After I was given this silence, my focus has been to prepare for this Clash of the Titans to be able to restore the prestige to my name in a rebirth of the warrior of old. I know this desire I hold deep within my heart and soul will conflict with the desire of some of the favorites the people who watch The Omega Wrestling Alliance are invested in, but I must do achieve this feat of insurmountable odds to be viewed as the man I once was. A punisher of men who would dare to stand in my path from what I desired from this world, a conqueror able to bring whoever challenged me to their knees and stomp them out with a single stomp of my boot, and the cornerstone of a generation that many have forgotten about who built the foundation of what they take for granted. I know you have men you want to see such as Michael Bishop, Jason Long, Jeff X, Graham Baker, Mark Michaels, even Nate Cage, be the man left standing in the ring with the opportunity to become world champion and headline Final Destination in the main event. I know there are dreams and stories management would love to have as the poster child for this event to be able to make sure the tickets are flying off the shelves and a sold out event is made with this show within mere minutes or even seconds. I know I am not the man seen by the world as the hero to overcome the odds set before me to achieve what was impossible to many, but that’s where I have to remove myself from what everyone else around me wants. Doing simply what my brothers wanted or needed, listening to the desires of the company and the roster around me, hearing the cries of the people for who they want to stand at the top of the mountain while I am left to be ostracized and shamed for my own personal desires, it has been the crux of the issue for where I stand in the eyes of many as a shell of my former self only worthy to be given a final retirement in an Old Yeller treatment to take me out of my misery. Many of you believe this to be the truth for you all have said this yourselves in many encounters we have had. Even those online or from past promotions have decided whenever it is possible to slander my name when the opportunity arises because there has been no reason to do otherwise for there has been no evidence to suggest the other side of that coin. Clash of the Titans must be different for me and there is no recourse or alternative for me to take at this point if I want to avoid proving the world right about me in that I am no longer the wrestler I once was and should be considering retirement. If I don’t want to prove the voices of darkness right about me, I must walk out of this match with the opportunity everyone is fighting to have for themselves and trust me in these words, I’m not going over the top rope and landing onto the floor on the outside unless my body literally gives up on me to the point of being unable to move a single muscle within it. I’ve been patient with the opportunities afforded to everyone around me, including The Dynasty. I am no longer patient within this company. I’m not here to rely on some underdog sob story being told to you about how I’ve never gotten what I wanted like you’ll probably find in Michael Bishop or Mark Michaels to feel sorry for me over and rally behind to give me my world title win because I’ve been screwed by those in charge. I’m telling you the truth. I’m not here to tell you this story about how great I am through my natural God-given talents to make me the man that’s going to outlast every single person within that ring to earn the opportunity or how experience merits me the advantage in this match like you’re probably going to hear from men like Jason Long or Jeff X. I’m not here to even mention the fact of gaining redemption or vengeance for the past against old enemies makes me the one to stand in the ring as the person who will be walking into Final Destination to take what has been stolen from me like you might hear from Graham Baker or Nate Cage. I’m not here to tell a tale to be remembered eternally to make sure the people who pay to enter the arenas and watch on their television or computer screens or some legend of epic proportions to make me out as some sort of heroic figure worthy of adulation and praise. I’m in this match to silence those who want to slander and disrespect my name at any given opportunity and restore my own personal prestige, nothing else. No grandiose story to tell your children when you get old of how Jacob Senn won this match against every single odd that has been thrown before him like all other Chicago natives would love to give themselves. No underdog overcoming the odds to stand tall at the end of it all with a smile on his face and a tear running down his eye. No war-torn veteran hoping for one final run before his retirement to walk away into the sunset to never be seen from again. I am a simple man who desires to have the opportunity to restore prestige in my name and will do everything possible within my body to stand as the lone survivor of The Clash of Titans because if not… help this entire roster for what will be unleashed at the end of it.

It all returns back to desire. The driving force of humanity. Whether the desire from man is for pragmatic reasons or for the mere selfish wish to become the one to headline the main event of the biggest event of the year for The Omega Wrestling Alliance, it is the motive for putting our bodies through the most grueling battle of endurance anyone in our sport can be able to fight through. Every single year, a select number of us are chosen to walk through the curtain and enter this gladiatorial coliseum to fight amongst ourselves for this prize placed in front of our faces. Why do we do it? It’s because it is our desire to do so and we have the freedom of choice to put ourselves through punishment to gain the opportunity presented. I have been involved in these matches numerous times because my desires align with the opportunity at stake and this year will be no different to me. Another night where I will do what I can and must to be able to reach the point where I am the final participant left standing in the middle of that ring. Another night where everyone around me will continue to state that there is no chance I will be able to be the one left standing in that ring as there are more deserving people in the match. People will keep telling me that I’ve lost what I had, they’ll tell me these other stars are more worthy and provide a bigger value to the main event than I would, but none of these will deter me from the path of getting what I want in order to make sure the disrespect I keep having to face is silenced for good. The dreams of many to be able to finally gain an opportunity to be the world champion after years of being left without that chance? There’s plenty of chances to gain a title opportunity with the support of those you have behind you to rally behind and bring you to the world title match you seek. The desire of those to have repeat victories and prove to the world they are the king that sits upon the throne here in OWA? Those are obstacles standing in my path I will need to break and shatter underneath my boot like the conqueror I have been known to be if I hope to get the desire I wish in this match. Those who seek to win this match to resurrect the rivalries of the past to settle them once and for all? There are many roads to seek what you are looking for and this match will not be your only path. As I mentioned before, I have no other option at this point. I have done everything possible to be able to gain the respect of these people. World championships, multiple titles and milestone victories, creating a group and stepping back to let the spotlight shine on them, everything I can do to gain respect and prestige for myself against everything placed before me. What was I given in return for a career that has lasted over a decade in this industry with every accomplishment I have under my belt? Disrespect. Slander. Dishonor. Insolence. All of it never ending and constant to the point of making me seek isolation even after victory in a brutal match like the Doomsday Triple Cage because the whispers and voices were shrouding me in darkness, but Aizen provided me clarity to the purpose to silence those voices for good. Clash of the Titans. I’ve given the world the prestige it has sought with assisting Darkane in being the possibly the greatest world champion in OWA’s four year history, I’ve given my brothers in The Dynasty prestige to be able to call themselves a faction of the greatest wrestlers this company could hope to have signed, but prestige needs to be found within myself and this match is the only way to be able to accomplish that. A world title match, a headline match on the biggest stage in this company, an opponent to face who I can be able to provide the classic match everyone would be left in awe with to gain the respect of everyone, only the Clash of the Titans can provide me with that opportunity. Only this match can give me the respect I deserve with it being one of the very few accomplishments I have never been able to achieve in my entire career within this industry and with one victory in this match, I can alter the course of my career from where I am walking towards now. This is no longer a match where I hope to win because of what it would do for my career, but this is the match I must win. Nothing else in the eyes of management, the roster, or even the people in the audience will bring the prestige worthy enough to silence them. Should I be unable to be the one to earn the opportunity afforded to the lone survivor, I know what you are asking yourself. What will happen to Jacob Senn should he fail? I’ll put it this way…

I will murder.

The Sun Chaser, above the Atlantic Ocean


The plane was still a few hours out from Panama, having flown from Lisbon, and Remi was asleep in the custom bedroom she’d had built into the belly of the large aircraft, which also had accommodation for several guests and even a small garage in the cargo area. Despite being thousands of miles above the ocean, everything was smooth and calm, the window to the outside showing a beautiful starry sky, cloudless and peaceful.

That is until Remi’s phone goes off. The ringtone has been set to an old style phone ring and it echoes loudly in the room, waking Alison, who had been sleeping beside Remi, almost immediately. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and squints in the darkness against the bright screen light of Remi’s phone. Finally she shakes Remi’s shoulder.

Remi…babe, your phone is ringing…c’mon babe, get up…!

Remi groggily wakes up and fumbles for the phone still half asleep. Without looking, she hits the answer button, after a couple missed jabs, and puts it to her ear.

…Yeah, this is Remi…

Her eyes are still closed, she’s hoping for a wrong number.

Remi?

It was a male voice, vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on it yet.

It’s, uh, well it’s Dave.

“Dave” was David Franklin, the boyfriend of Remi’s mother. She’d only spoken to him a couple times, Remi and her mother Nora weren’t on good terms. As a matter of fact the last time they talked, she had slapped Remi in a restaurant while they were having Remi’s birthday dinner.

Look, Remi, this isn’t easy…

Dave’s voice wavered and Remi sat up, more awake now. Alison shoots a questioning look, but Remi holds up a hand to ward her off for the moment.

Dave, what’s going on?

Her eyes looked out the window at nothing, there was something in his voice she didn’t like.

It’s Nora, Remi, she had an accident…

Remi’s eyebrows shot up.

An “Accident”? Dave, what the fuck does that mean? Is my mother okay?

A second later the answer came.

She fell Remi…god, I’m sorry…Uhhh, she fell and hit her head. I called an ambulance and they got here quick, but I guess…I guess she took too hard a hit and they couldn’t…Remi, she’s gone, I’m sorry.

She felt numb. That’s not quite true, she actually didn’t feel much at all, which sounds like the same thing, but isn’t. Numb would be shock, and there was some of that, but not the devastation she had felt when her dad had died. Her and her mother had not agreed on really anything, Nora was always treating Remi’s sexuality like a phase and her career as a wrestler as a joke. Her mother had been a strict Christian, demanding and immovable. She also had hated Santana for simply existing. Remi wasn’t sure how a daughter was supposed to feel when they lost a mother, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t feeling it.

…Remi? Are you there, sorry, the reception isn’t the best…

She snapped back to reality. Dave had been talking the whole time she had drifted off.

Yeah, Dave, I’m here…sorry, I was a little lost for a second there.

He gives a short bark of a laugh, humorless.

Yeah, I understand that…I was just saying how there’s going to be a service next week, the Faith’s Rest Cemetery, do you know it?

She did, it was the cemetery attached to her mother’s church, where her dad was buried.

Yeah, but I dunno if I can make it, Dave, I got a big match comin-

For Christsakes, Remi, cancel it! She was your mother!

Remi took a long breath.

Dave, you know mom hated blasphemy. I can’t cancel, it’s a big deal. Look, if I don’t make the service, I’ll still make it.

Dave was incredulous.

Can’t cancel? You’d rather get hit in the face than pay your final respects to your mother? What kind of daughter even are you?

She sighed, none of Dave’s barbs really struck.

Not the one she wanted. Look, David, I’ll be there sometime next week. I doubt it’ll be in time for the funeral though, I’m sorry, if you want, we can get coffee when I come in, if not…well, I get that. I’m sorry you lost your girlfriend, man, I know it’s heavy, but you gotta understand she and I weren’t close. I’m sorry…

She didn’t know what she was apologizing to him for, but decided to just hang up. If he wanted to sit and talk, she absolutely would, she didn’t really care one way or the other. She puts the phone face down on her bed and swings her legs over the edge. Behind her Alison rises up and rests her chin on Remi’s shoulder.

I’m sorry about your mom, Remi. I know you two weren’t close, but still…

Remi’s shoulders rise and fall in a slow, jagged sigh. She cradles Alison’s head on her shoulder, touching her head to Alison’s temple gently. They sit there quietly for a few minutes before Remi turns to face Alison.

I’m gonna go have some coffee, clear my head, maybe talk to Cali. I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?

Alison nods and kisses Remi’s head.

Sure, babe, I’ll be here for you…whenever you need me.

Remi gave a genuine smile. Alison really meant it. She was willing to give Remi space to grieve, but the second Remi opened up to her, Wells would drop everything and be the rock she needed. She loved her for that, but right now she needed to talk to her sister. She stands and walks out into the corridor leading to the kitchen/bar area. She quietly closes the door to her bedroom and makes her way past the room of one of her aunts before stopping briefly in front of her sister’s door. She gives it a single, solid thudding knock.

Met me in the kitchen.

Without waiting for an answer, Remi walks on. Once in the kitchen she starts a pot of coffee and then sits at the bar, sliding down an ashtray containing a half smoked cigar and lighter in front of her. As she lights it her sister, Santana, staggers in, groggy from just waking up, wearing a pair of shorts and a spider-man t-shirt. The soft footfalls from her bare feet break the silence as she makes her way to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of juice before walking over to Remi, waving away the smoke with an annoyed look.

Alright, I’m up, What’s up?

Remi doesn’t answer at first, she just takes a long draw from the cigar and eyes the coffee that’s still brewing, filling the room with the smell of roasted beans. Finally she takes the cigar from her mouth.

Mom died. Dave, her guy, called and said she had some kind of accident and couldn’t save her…hey!

She’s cut off as Santana hugs her sister. Remi stiffens in partial surprise, then returns the embrace.

Remi, I’m so, so sorry. I know you two weren’t close, but it still has to hurt. Do you need anything?

She thinks hard. She would need to handle this, and when she did she would need a lot of shoulders to lean on, but right now she needed to stay focused. She realized, she wasn’t not feeling anything, she was compartmentalizing, she wouldn’t let her mother ruin her career when she was alive, she’d be damned if she would let her do it in death. Instead, Remi just leans her head on Santana’s shoulder and sighs.

Nah, not right now. I will, I think, after Odyssey I’ll have to go back home for a few days, but right now I can’t afford to slow down.

Santana nods and hugs her sister a bit tighter. Nora hadn’t been her mother, they were half sisters, but she’d lost her own mom when she was young and knew how much it could hurt. They’re interrupted by the sound of the coffee pot indicating it was ready to pour and Remi gently pulls away before making her way around and pulling down a mug. She drops a half spoon of sugar in the cup before filling it with black coffee.

You sure you’re okay?

Remi picks up her coffee and takes a drink.

No, but I’m sure I can’t stop moving forward. This is my chance at something big, Cali, I can’t throw it away for someone who never understood why it was important in the first place.

Santana nods.

Yeah, okay. I think we’ve still got a few hours, wanna catch a movie or something?

Remi nods.

Sure, sis, I sure do.

The two exit the kitchen.


White lines...blow away.

The Golden Goddess, eh? Cool name, Nami, I can dig it. Everyone loves a comeback story, a plucky underdog pulling herself up by the bootstraps, dragging herself away from that ivory to show the world you’re not done yet! I love it. It’s a lot like my story, as a matter of fact! Well, I’ve never really been considered a prodigy at wrestling, I have to work just to be considered middling at it, but hitting stuff? Sis, I’m the goddamn Mozart of hitting things.

Still, we’re not too much different. We both saw early success only to have our own demons take it away and send us reeling, we both walk around with chips on our shoulder, Hell, we both could probably absolutely de-stroy a stripper pole if given a chance, but there’s a lot of ways we’re different too. See, I read up on you, even watched a couple of those “Where are they now?” deals on the internet about how you used to be called the Golden Queen until you tried to pawn that gold crown for blow money.

Like I said, though, you had a glow up and took your life back, and sis, good on ya for it, but it seems to me like maybe you decided to celebrate a little too early. I mean, sure the Goddesses Championship is a great accomplishment and I’d be goddamned proud to hold it, but it seems to me like you were so desperate to prove you had moved past who you were that the first time you had some success you hung that mission accomplished banner and hoped everyone would move on with you. Now, I don’t personally know you, I’ve not been ‘round long enough I guess, but if I had to guess, you’re still insecure inside. Still scared that people see you as the coked out has been and not the shining Golden Idol you present today.

Wanna know why I know that? ‘Cos I’m still afraid everyone sees me as a washed up drunk flash in the pan who got lucky a couple times and couldn’t really seal the deal when it came down to it. Hell, it’s probably true, but I embrace it at least. I am very aware of how people see me because I never ran, I never hid, and I never stopped moving forward, even when I was having seizures and collapsing in the shower after matches and waking up in the middle of the night screaming while going through the DTs.

I’ve been where you were and I’m going where you are. You know how this story ends, Nami, you’ve already read it. I’ll be level with you, Nami, I’m coming for blood this time. Nothing you’ve done personally, but I just lost my mom, and even though we didn’t get along, she’s still my mom, so I really, really wanna hit something and it looks like you’re it. Nami, I’m Remi Skyfire, I’m the Blackheart, and you better watch out, cos my White lines go a long way, up your nose or in your veins, and there’s nothing to gain except ending your reign.

Years Ago.

“(Get up.)”

The stern, cold voice of a grown man ordered. Small drops of blood trickled down his hand, some of it was his own from his split knuckles- some of it wasn't. There was a near-emotionless look in his eyes, unrelenting strictness. The only thing that showed he was really a human being was the visible warm breath that left his lips.

Shouta's head pounded, struggling to catch their breath as a sharp burn continued to meet their busted lip, the dry and cold air only agitating their cuts and bruises. They barely made it to their knees, feeling their own weight buckle under them. Hands shakily dug into the frozen grass underneath them as a painful sensation in their chest caused them to wheeze and cough, seeing red pour from their mouth into a small puddle beneath them. Shouta wasn't sure if they could keep going, not at this rate. Everything hurt, everything hurt so badly..

“(I said get up.” The man repeated, and suddenly something heavy crashed into their side. Shouta yelled out in pain, rolling over and crumpling into a heap as they could barely let out a groan- completely winded.

"(Do you think that your enemies will ever just let you sit there and regather your composure? No. They will tear you apart, they will eat you alive in your moment of weakness. You cannot let them see your vulnerability, your pain, because they will only just take advantage of it.)”

His words were barely coherent to the adolescent that would one day be known as MYOJIN. Ears ringing as they continued to desperately scramble to their feet, but as they raised their head- it was violently met with a boot straight to the jaw with a sickening thud that sent them backward.

Their vision darkened and doubled, completely out of it as a hand instinctively reached to hold their jaw… But still, Shouta defiantly tried to find their way to their feet. Lifting their head up from the ground with a pained glare at the man who stood over them.

"(I thought that you were better than this. That you were strong enough as your siblings, but… maybe I was wrong. I've tried again and again with you but you never learn, do you? You will forever be nothing more than the weakest link… This world is a cruel place, it will not be fair to you no matter how much you wish for it to be. You must take by force, you must conquer if you plan to survive out there… and if you cannot do that, you aren't worth my time. Stay down.)”

The weakest link.

Weak.

Inferior.

Hearing those words lit a fire in them as they gritted their teeth. The man turned their back to them, beginning to walk away. But Shouta wasn't done yet, they pushed themself up with a grunt- and clenched their hands into fists. They ran, screaming with unbridled rage at the elder person- who turned around in surprise, his emotionless face faltered into a look of surprise as Shouta threw a wild fist into his cheekbone, hard enough that immediately pain spiked through the nerves of their hand once they collapsed and cradled it- but the hit was enough to send the man on his ass.

A moment of silence passed as the two sat on the earthly floor, Shouta looked toward the man, as their stomach sank with fear and regret. Expecting to be punished for their outburst as he turned toward them… But there was a different look on his face now, the faintest sign of being impressed.

“(It seems like there is some fight in you after all.)”

The horror in Shouta's bloodied face soon washed away with relief, a smile showing their crimson soaked teeth appeared on their face. They weren't weak. They weren't inferior.

“(,...Thank you, father.)” Shouta responded.


It's kind of funny how the mind works, isn't it?

The most embarrassing, darkest memories and failures always seemed to live rent-free in one's head and eats away at them. It hangs over like a dark cloud, no matter how badly someone wants to forget. Wants to let it go, let it be buried in the past. The more you wish to not remember, the longer it stays. I always wondered why our own consciousness tends to torture us in this way, why does that bitter taste in our mouth stay for so long? Why doesn't it go away?

After the events of the last Kingdom, I finally understood it. It finally made sense to me. It's good to remember your mistakes, your shortcomings. Do you know why, Jaeger? No, I doubt you do. You don't have nearly the experience to understand. Let me explain it to you:

They linger on as a reminder. As something to look back on and learn from. I let my emotions, my hatred for that parasite, and the washed protector she runs to whenever she wants help. I wasn't pinned, I wasn't submitted, because neither of them is capable of accomplishing that. But that loss weeks ago, it served as a very important lesson. You see, I've realized that I've been taking this far more lightly than I should- and I can promise you, I won't make that mistake again. I will never allow myself to feel that lowness again.

When I was young, I was taught constantly- with unforgiving repetition that weakness should not and cannot be tolerated. There is no dusting yourself off from a loss and getting back up again, there is only evolution. I am not like the rest of these stagnant fools that continue to headline and main event in this company. I don't talk about a big game and refuse to learn from my mistakes because of my ego. It is why I'm better than Bishop, the same old man with the same old routine and the same over- It's why I am better than Sunshine, the girl who continues to be the damsel in distress saved by whoever decides to pity her week by week.

It's why I'm better than you, Jaeger.

Of course, OWA and especially Kenny Drake wants to hurt Golden Dawn in any way that they can. Giving you a shot at my Outlaw Championship for, what, beating Udy Ryland?

Congrats, Jaeger! I know that must have been so hard for you, doing what most of this roster has done time and time again. Though the crazier part, is that you think that you're going to beat me. That you think for one single second you're on my level just because you defeated someone that anyone can beat, and getting a handed a title shot for merely existing.

I know you must be riding a high, feeling optimistic about your chances and ready to prove to the world that you belong on this brand, that you deserve to fight against the best and that you are champion material. I understand that chip on your shoulder, the desire that every rookie has because they think that they are just such hot shit.

Unfortunately for you, honey, I'm going to be your reality check.

You are just another name, another white boy who has the stale personality of "I wrestle good" except you happen to have a Hick accent and seem somehow even more fucking stupid than most people in this company. There is nothing special about you, there is nothing worthwhile to note about you. To me? And to everyone else, you'll be another random name that floats throughout this brand- Another person to fall into obscurity because he just didn't have the It factor.

And of course, like the bland, unremarkable boy that you are- You resort to what everyone else has said millions of times. That I lost the Outlaw Championship fairly, that I'm a coward for wishing for it back. That I'm being used by Arata as if I'm not aware and incapable of my actions…

But who the fuck are you, Jaeger? You've been here for five seconds and already think that you know me? That you understand me and that you can bring me “back to the light” and see the error of my ways? You are a nobody. And you are not in my fucking league.

I only debuted in the big leagues of professional wrestling a month before you did, and yet already I have been a multi-time champion. Yet already I have been the face of multiple companies, the standard-bearer, and an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. You? You have NOTHING to your name, Jaeger. Nobody knew who you are until you got your five seconds of fame by knocking out a fucking pathetic wrestler. Your greatest accomplishment in your career will be merely even getting the CHANCE to step in the ring with me.

You should be getting on your knees, begging me to teach you how to be successful. How to be relevant. How to actually matter more than a speck of dust in this sport. You should be kissing my fucking boots and humbly asking me to take you under your wing, but you're too much of an idiot to do that, aren't you?

You have delusions of grandeur. You see yourself as becoming a star overnight just because you saw someone like Raivo win the big one so early on. You think that you have what it takes and that you can use me as a stepping stone? And I do not take kindly to that.

Let me remind you all something that you conveniently seemed to forget. I am the Shining Star. In one year in OWA, I have become a World Tag Team Champion and practically carried my useless deadweight of a partner to victory. I won the Outlaw Championship the first time by beating the man who just challenged for the World Championship, Theodor Pavel, and by beating the Hall of Famer- or rather, the overrated legend that is Azumi Goto. Oh, and of course, I also took down Udy- the only person you have a win over.

I couldn't honestly give less of a shit if you or anyone else is upset that I took the Outlaw Championship. Because from a very young age? I learned that the world simply isn't fair. Someone like me had to fight for months just to earn a CONTENDERSHIP for a title here, while you- generic white boy #500- gets a title shot just because. I take what I want, because only the weak wait for handouts- only morons like you who think hard work matters ONLY because you've never had to STRUGGLE like me. You've never been held back like me- because of who I am, because of my identity, because I'm different than you.

Jaeger, the difference between us both is far and wide.

I am better than you. I have been a prodigy since fucking birth. You could be literally just ANYONE. I don't play by your rules because I am ABOVE your rules and that is just the simple truth. I'm going to teach you something that you obviously need to learn and it is showing where your place belongs.

You continue to tell me I'm doing things the wrong way, but you getting this match in the first place is proof why the Golden Dawn needs to exist.

Because talentless, mediocre parasites such as yourself get chances for simply coming to work whenever management is feeling generous. And it is time to teach you and others like you that you don't belong here.

If you think I was insane enough to risk the entire world at Dimensional Warfare just to gain my title back with a wish…

Can you imagine what I will do to you just to retain it, bitch boy?

See you soon, Jaeger.

You're going to regret ever fucking thinking about facing me.

Yes, we are still in Portland, Oregon. Yes, we are still at the world famous wrestling school Wolve’s Den. But not, this time we are not inside. The lights within the building are shut off, except for the dimly lit office of J.D. Damon, the light illuminating from his office window. The sounds of students throwing themselves to the canvas with a huge thud echoing throughout the building can no longer be heard. The dozen or so cars parked outside of the building are gone. The wind blows across the frozen ground that is covered with white snow. Instead of being inside where it is warm, this time we find ourselves outside of the building. A dark figure can be seen leaning up against the brick outside of the building. The sleeveless t-shirt soaked in his own sweat that we saw earlier this evening has been covered up with a black coat, the hood thrown up covering his long hair that now hangs down above his shoulders with pieces hanging in front of his face.
 
You both just… don’t… get it…
 
DO YOU?!
 
Damon puts the tail end of a cigarette up to his lips as he inhales, the red cherry of the cigarette brightens. He immediately begins to cough as he exhales a cloud of smoke. Damon looks at the cigarette in his hand with disgust before flicking it across from him into the snow.
 
Look at me! I’m can be cool too just like Jeff and Chris!
 
Damon laughs to himself as he shakes his head at the thought.
 
Your fellow brother, Chris?
 
YOUR.
 
FELLOW.
 
BROTHER?!
 
Please enlighten us, Chris, just what in the FUCK you are smoking… I mean besides Marlboro Reds. Just because you are co-holding the tag team titles with Jeff, doesn’t exactly make him your “brother.” I call Kenny my brother. I call Jason Long my brother. I call Michael Bishop and Theodor Pavel my brothers, because I have fought against every single one of them and have gone to battle along side them many times. But all of a sudden, just because you suckered your way into winning those belts with him AND you fought along side him in Dimensional Warfare… he is now your… brother? It’s weird how awfully quick things are this shit hole changes. One second you two are attempting to tear each other’s heads off, ya know, cashing in your Ascension to the Heavens briefcase on him after he literally just won the fucking OWA World Title, but yet… your brothers.
 
Interesting.
 
Very interesting.
 
Damon pauses for a second or two to let everything soak in, before continuing…
 
You know, Chris, I absolutely love the fact that when people, such as yourself, can’t come up with anything better to get under my skin, they decide to go the whole “Kenny is J.D.’s mentor,” “J.D. is coasting off from Kenny’s success,” “J.D. is nothing more than Kenny’s lap dog” route. If I have said once, Christopher, I have said a million times. Kenny is not my mentor. Kenny is my brother. Kenny is someone who I saved many years ago from being an afterthought. If it wasn’t for me laying down the groundwork for what has since become known as Wolvesden… then we would not have seen Kenny massacring the entire Kingdom roster like he did. Mentor? Far from it. A brother? A true brother? You bet your ass. When I was down about myself… when I was contemplating hanging up my boots for good instead of giving it the good old college try… it was Kenny who lifted my spirits and reminded me just exactly who the fuck I am. A true brother.
 
Unlike… you, Chris.
 
Because if my calculations are correct, the exact second that you two lose those precious tag team belts to Jason and I this weekend, you will have no problem whatsoever kicking Jeff to the curb.
 
Why?!
 
Because you got out of him exactly what you wanted. You wanted to complete OWA’s Triple Crown and the Grand Slam. You wanted to distance Jeff from the rest of his Frontline family… practically the only family the man has had for over a year. Whether you admit it or not… it was a part of your grand plan all along: sabotage the Kingdom roster by making The Frontline implode. Well, congratu-fuckin’-lations, Christopher! Are you happy?!
 
ARE YOU?!
 
Damon’s eyes widen with anger at the thought of what this has all come down to. Damon takes a few moments to compose himself…
 
You know…
 
You’re right, Chris. After what transpired last year at Final Destination… I haven’t been myself. You and I have never agreed on anything since I have known you, but you are absolutely correct. Last year when I defended the Spartan Championship against Aria, I… I put everything into defending that championship. I put my whole body… my whole heart… my whole fucking soul… into defending that championship at Final Destination. Only for what? Aria to spit on the entire legacy of the championship by vacating it three weeks later? Vacating it only to retire and become a corporate goon over on Odyssey? She had no intention whatsoever to defend the Spartan title after ripping it away from me. None at all. All of that shit still doesn’t sit well with me. You know it. Jeff knows it. Aria knows it. The entire Kingdom roster knows. Fuck…
 
EVERYONE KNOWS IT!
 
Everyone knows that I haven’t been myself since that night. Until now.
 
You see… I was never able to pay Aria back for what she did to the Spartan title… for what she did to me, and honestly - I probably will never be able to do to her what she did to me. However… I can easily take it out on you, Chris. All of the aggression. All of the… rage that has been trapped inside of me for so long can easily come out Sunday night. All of the bullshit that you have caused me for so long can easily be unleashed just… like… that.
 
And could you blame me?
 
Honestly, could you?!
 
Of course not.
 
We deserve better? You goddamn right we deserve better, Chris. Jason and I both deserve a hell of a lot better than what we have been given. Do you honestly think I came back to this company to be pulled into a bullshit match dubbed The Great War?! FUCK NO! Do you honestly think I came back to this company to be pulled into Dimensional Warfare?! NO! But, it’s just like me to go with the flow… to roll with the punches, if you will. Why? Mainly because I knew deep down that I had to help my friends - MY FAMILY - in the wars that came upon us. Do we deserve better than facing you two for those tag team titles? Yes, sir. Jason and I should have been in the world title picture a hell of a long time ago, but here we are. And what better end to all of this than by Jason and I taking those belts… the belts that you both claim matter to more than anything currently… and making you both realize that we never needed either one of you all along.
 
Speaking of the world title…
 
You remember the world title picture, right boys? The scene that you two have talked about so much and all of the bullshit about you two dominating the entire scene. I realize that I have taken a few too many chair shots to the head during my career, but if I remember correctly… it was Chris who stole that belt from Jeff after Jeff had just beaten Moongoose McQueen for it, right? And… and… wasn’t it Arata who also took the belt from you, Jeff?! I mean… if you both are as great as you both claim to me then shouldn’t one of you still have it in your possession? And don’t chime in with the bullshit of holding three different belts, Chris. Two of those belts mean absolutely JACK SHIT here. But seriously… if you two are the mega stars you both think you are… then why hasn’t one of you beaten Arata to take the belt back? I mean you could do it with ease, right?
 
Give me a fucking break.
 
Ladies and gentlemen… I present to you the word of the day… DELUSIONAL.
 
Damon chuckles to himself a bit, probably being the only person to actually laugh at that. Oh well, fuck it.
 
Wait… hold on for one second, folks.. I’m… I’m…
 
Damon puts his finger to his ear, pretending to be a news anchor or reporter and getting a breaking news update into the ear piece that isn’t actually there.
 
I’m getting word that… YES! I am getting word that Christopher Sabertooth’s best friend forever, Jeffrey X, has decided to open his suck hole once again and spew out some more bullshit about this big championship match this Sunday night!
 
I’m sorry, Jeff. I am truly sorry that what I said about you has bothered you so much. But you know what they say, Jeff… sometimes the truth hurts.
 
And the way that you reacted with playing every single world I said about you and your new bestie over and over in your head makes me believe that what I said has gotten to you.
 
And you know what?
 
I’m glad, Jeff. I am tickled fucking pink that it struck a nerve. Because every single word that I uttered is one hundred percent the truth. You want to take about taking the charge and leading, Jeff? You want to talk about being a leader?! Sure, sure, you may have led me and the others into battle last year during the Great War and we may have won, but what happened in the end? Kenny Drake was murdered. But what about this year, Jeff? Where were you this year at Civil War? Why weren’t you leading the charge one more time, great and fearless leader?! Oh, that’s right! You were stuck… being a follower to Jodan Jonouchi of all people. A follower. That’s weird, but didn’t you say… you know what, never mind. And then, where was I? That’s right… I was LEADING. I was leading my pack. I was leading my Wolvesden into battle. But… didn’t you say… that I was nothing more than a follower? Strange. Arata and his band of goons may have won in the end, but I accomplished exactly what I wanted to. And that was to prove to everyone - especially YOU, Jeff - that I am not a follower. I AM A FUCKING LEADER. At least no one died under my watch… just saying.
 
My frustrations? You claim to understand my frustrations? Nah, nah. You don’t, Jeff. You don’t understand any of my frustrations, because your Jeff X. You have been Kingdom’s golden boy since day fucking one. The moment you stepped through those doors at the OWA Officers, they strapped a fucking rocket to your ass and sent you into orbit. Former two-time World Champion, former Spartan Champion, Clash of the Titans win, Triple Crown Champion… so please - PLEASE - explain to me how you, of all people, can understand my frustrations.
 
Because…
 
YOU CAN’T!
 
And honestly… you never will.


It's okay...


I'm sure once those belts are securely around mine and Jason's waists you two will be thrown back into your beloved world title scene... ya know, the one that you two rule or whatever the fuck you both said. I don't know, my attention span gave up thirty seconds into your promos. 


Damon shrugs his shoulders, before looking off into the distance and continuing...


You know... ultimately this match isn't even about the World Tag Team Championship, because it has never been my goal in life to be a tag team champion, but when in Rome, ya know?


This is about me proving a fucking point. 


This is about me proving to both Jeff and Chris that I am more than what they see me as.


More than a mere pawn in their little bullshit game.


More than a mere follower... more than a "yes man" to them both.


This is about proving to them that they are not superior to me or Jason...


This is about proving to them that Jason and I are both far suprerior than they could ever even dream about being. The only difference between us? They have been given more opportunities than us.


Damon stares deep into the camera one last time before starting to walk away.


Remember boys, after this is all said and done... this wasn't personal.


And The Frontline?


Yeah... we're fine.


Fuck that.


Damon continues to walk away from the camera and into the darkness, before mumbling to himself...


Now, I just need to get Jason to fucking focus. Fuck me.

Portland, Oregon is the setting for the scene. More precisely, inside of the famous Wolve's Den Wrestling School, also known as the Drake and Damon Wrestling School, the very school founded by two men who you all know very well, J.D. Damon and Kenny Drake. The wrestling school that Damon ran single-handedly during the absence of his best friend. Inside the building, we see two wrestling rings with students bouncing off from the ring ropes running various drills. Standing outside of one of the rings watching with a skillful eye is "The Ultimate Disharmony" himself. A black sleeveless Wolvesden t-shirt covers his upper body, his long dark hair pulled back into a bun. 
 
Stop! 
 
STOP! 
 
STOP! 
 
STOP!
 
The two students inside of the ring immediately freeze in place, as Damon climbs into the ring to show the students a thing or two. Damon mutters a few things to the two, before applying one of the students into a headlock. The student then backs Damon into the ropes before shooting him off across the ring, rebounding off the opposite side. Damon leapfrogs over the student, before bouncing off the ropes one more time and dropping the student with a picture-perfect dropkick.
 
See?! It's that easy. Keep going at it. And remember your foot work. These moves? All of these moves mean absolutely nothing if your foot work looks like garbage. 
 
Do it again! Kyle, after they're through, run them through a couple more drills. 
 
The Den's assistant trainer, Kyle, comes into view as he climbs into the ring to get a closer look at the students at work. The camera follows Damon away from the ring area down a hallway where his office is. Damon grabs a bottle of water out from the mini fridge near the entrance of his office, before sitting down at the chair behind his desk He opens the bottle, takes a long gulp, before placing it down on the desk in front of him.
 
Civil War, huh? A hell of a trip that was.
 
Damon leans in closer to the camera, his face with nearly healed scrapes and bruises over his face.
 
A trip that I do no t want to ever - EVER - do again. Another year, another cluster fuck of a war. Unlike last year, we survived with no casualties. However, at least last year we won. At least last year we walked out the victors. At least last year we didn’t allow a piece of shit like Arata Asakura to stand triumphantly. The only good thing that came out of this war? We got Kenny back. Not only did we get Kenny back, but I got my brother back. Niki can now spend the remainder of her days with her husband… the love of her life. And little Sid… Sid has his father back. That’s the only good thing that happened. I did whatever I could… I fought alongside three men who I would go to hell and back for in the form of Michael Bishop, Theodor Pavel, and Jason Long. Three men who I respect more than anything in this entire world. Three men who also did whatever we could in order to stop Arata and his band of Asian Nazis from securing the throne… but, our “best” just wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t good enough to stop them. What more can we do?! Hell, Theo couldn’t even take the World Championship from his grasp. Our one opportunity that we had to bring the World Championship back to our side was… taken away from us within a blink of an eye. Now don’t get me wrong… Theo gave Arata one hell of a fight. Theo fought Arata tooth and nail in order to bring the World Championship back to The Frontline… but, once again… Theo’s “best” just wasn’t good enough. Despite our differences, I can only hope that Azumi can put an end to Arata once and for all. I can only hope…
 
Damon takes a deep breath and lets out a loud sigh…
 
Civil War may be over, however, the war that we have all been fighting for the past year is far - FAR - from over. The war will continue until the OWA World Championship, the very championship that that son of a bitch Arata has taken hostage, is back in our possession. Azumi, who gets a championship opportunity at Clash of the Titans is our next hope. She was able to beat Arata once before, can she do it again? You need to also remember… the last time that Arata had a tight grip on a championship it wasn’t Theo or Azumi who snatched it away from him.
 
IT WAS ME!
 
It was me who ripped the Spartan Championship away from the Asian Adolf Hitler. That’s exactly why I decided to enter myself into this year’s Clash of the Titans match. If Azumi isn’t able to step up to the giant task in front of her… I will have no problem whatsoever throwing every single person that gets placed in front of me over the top rope to secure my RIGHTFUL spot at Final Destination against that piece of shit. If no one else of this fucking roster can do it, I might as well take my crack at it, right? And continue to carve out my LEGACY into this wrestling organization.
 
Damon pauses of a few moments to re-collect his thoughts. He suddenly remembers words that he uttered earlier.
 
To hell…
 
…and back…
 
Isn’t that something? How was it, boys? How was it being sent down within the depths of hell? How did it feel being consumed by all of that fire? Did you feel emptiness? Did you feel alone? Jeff… Chris… please enlighten us with your thought on being sent to hell and living to tell the tale. Do I think you both deserved it? Absolutely not. I for one was sick to my stomach with them sending you there. You don’t deserve that. No one deserves that… okay, maybe Nate Cage does, but that’s neither here nor there. But do you remember that feeling of being empty? The feeling of having everything that you have worked so hard for ripped away from you in a millisecond. I hope you do. I pray that you both remember that, because that feeling WILL be returning this weekend. Chris… Jeff… you have something that I want to add to my collection and that is the OWA World Tag Team Championship. Besides beating Arata within an inch of his pathetic life and taking the World Championship from him, Jason and I becoming the new Tag Team Champions is something that we want to fulfill. You know, you hear me talk a lot about my legacy. The legacy that I want to leave behind for generations and generations to come, but that’s pretty fucking selfish of me, don’t you think? What about Jason’s legacy? By winning these titles… we both will be one step closer to our legacies.
 
Jeff… you know exactly where you and I stand. I have been by your side for the past three-hundred and sixty-five days fighting the good fight for The Frontline. I have been by your side fighting against every single thing that has been thrown in our way. EVERY. SINGLE. THING. But yet here you are, siding with HIM. The very reason why we have been going to war for nearly two goddamn years! The very man who had sown the seeds for the current bullshit that we have been dealing with. But yet… here you are acting like nothing ever happened. Maybe I just don’t understand it. How you could just forgive him that easily. At first you were very apprehensive at the very thought of teaming with Chris, but now… now you walk around acting like he’s your best friend. It just… doesn’t sit well with me. I mean… you could come back and ask me how in the hell I can team with Jason after all of the bullshit him and I did to one another when he was hanging around with Chris and The Ashes of the Wake. But just remember… Jason wasn’t the mastermind behind the entire operation; he was just a mere lackey of Havoc’s. You, my confused friend, are literally choosing to team with a man who at any second could snap once again and become the demonic piece of shit that we all love to hate. You are absolutely correct, Jeff. Now that Kenny has been brought back… I no longer need to continue to fight for his memory. I no longer have to avenge his wrongful death… the death that Chris is to blame for. That’s all over now, and I am very - VERY - thankful for that. But the one question that you asked me that kind of irritated me was if I am going to continue climbing that metaphorical ladder of success or will I fall back into the abyss known as complacency?
 
Seriously?!
 
Are you that fucking delusional, Jeffrey? You have known me for long enough that you should be able to answer that exact question. Only time will tell? Fuck that! ONLY TIME WILL TELL! I refuse to let “time tell” if I’m going to be a failure or succeed. I refuse to let “time tell” if I fall back into complacency while you and Chris continue to get all of the accolades while standing in the spotlight. The spotlight that I deserve! The spotlight that Jason Long… that Michael Bishop… that Theodor fucking Pave deserves! We have stood idly by your side for far too long all the while you received all of the recognition, all of the praise, the pats on the backs, the rounds of applause… while you received EVERYTHING! And what did we get? Tell me, Jeff! What did we get in return? A fist bump here? A high five there? Exactly.
 
Do you honestly think that it took us going to war not once, but TWICE, to get me motivated? Do you think that I needed that in order to light some sort of fire under my ass?! Absolutely not. Did it help? You’re damn right it did. It has made my drive, my desire, my PASSION that much more than it has ever been in my entire life. Because I refuse to continue working for an organization that continues giving the same old faces the accolades and achievements that the rest of us rightfully deserve. I love you to death, Jeff, but it seems as if hanging around Sabertooth is doing nothing but allowing your huge ego to grow even more. Do you know the reason why you and Sabertooth have been “the guys” around this place? Do you know the reason for all of the title reigns, the Final Destination main event spots… it’s because Jason and myself weren’t around! Plain and fucking simpe! If I had stayed here long after my first run, or my second, hell even my third, then all of that bullshit that you rattled off would never have happened to you two. And I will be damned if I continue allowing you two to inflate your disgusting egos even more. Do you two think Jason or I care if you both are Triple Crown Champions? Do you think that it makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside because you are a Grand Slam Champion, Chris? Nah. It just proves my point even further. And I am going to love nothing more than to dethrone the both of you; cut you both down to size and take away the god complex that you two seem to share with one another. 


Damon sits back into his chair as he wraps his mind around an interesting thought.


It is has been an entire year since "The Great War." Dimensional Warfare has come and gone, but it seems as if the new war, the new battle that we all must now fight, isn't some intergalactic entity. It's not some elder god shit. No. The war that will continue to wage on... is now among people that we love. 


And if it's a war you boys want...


...then it's a war that you two will get.


We want what you have... and we will not quit until those belts are around our waists.

(Maggall is seen in a rural area of Mexico. He has Pinatas of various famous white founders, and historical figures of American history strung up as the local kids take turns hitting them with large sticks.)

It’s interesting to observe attempts at revisionist history in real-time. Some people in OWA would give the Confederate Army state rights worshippers and the lovers of the freedom-loving Founding Founders a run for their money when it comes to fabricating false purity and superiority. In both cases, if you’d listen to these whites, you’d think slavery had never existed and was not a factor for neither the Confederates nor their holy founders. I feel like listening to people in OWA talking about prestige might be what it’s like listening to crackers speak about social justice at a Klan meeting. Or finding your ass on Gab or the wrong side of Youtube and reading the comments from the most ignorant mouth breathers on the planet.

What do I mean?

I’ve noticed The Dynasty members and Mark Michaels are trying to create this narrative that I’ve devalued this championship in some way compared to the champions before me. First off, since when does the bigger name with multiple title reigns in a company devalue a belt compared to currently two one-hit wonders? Me coming back and hearing I devalue a title compared to those two is like if Kendrick Lamar dropped a new album and people would claim he was hurting the game while they try to promote the Island Boys. They hype up these brats, but they never say exactly what they did in their reigns that were so impressive. They say I bring down value, but never point to an example of how that is. They can’t come up with anything because the facts are clear, I’m a more accomplished wrestler in OWA than Elijah Hampton and Mark Michaels combined.

And top of that, I had to make it in OWA with less than they have. While Elijah had the bloated star-filled Dynasty and Mark here had the damned Awakening, I literally had to make it with a dead Phantom Troupe that only had Nolan Eliwood giving a damn. And if you’re asking who Nolah Eliwood is, that just goes to show how inconsequential my only help ever was…..and then compare that to having help like Darkane, Jacob Senn, Matt Miles, and Nathan Fiora. Hell, even now, Mark Michaels is made a temporary general manager on the night of his championship match like that’s not absolute favouritism. Yet these privileged punks who were raised in OWA with silver spoon factions to feed them act like they’ve had a better rags to riches stories than a guy who came from the streets with bums and burnouts yet ended up eating up the competition at the top levels of this game!

(While Maggall speaks, the neighbour kids manage to knock off Thomas Jefferson, and a smile crosses Maggall’s face as the kids keep hitting at the pinata and take candy while calling Jefferson a slaver.)

Considering Elijah, Mark Michaels, and I are tied for most championship defences with the Prestige Championship, it’s hard for their narrative to stand up to scrutiny. Just like how the purity of the founders lost their luster when their names were held up with their acts of rape and slavery. Objectively speaking, if you actually think with your brain and not your white hearts, I’m already the greatest Prestige Championship OWA has ever had. Let’s not forget that this championship is being defended in the main event of Olympus over the new Immortal World Championship, and that is happening during my reign, not anyone else’s. I don’t even have to do anything anymore.

But I’m petty enough to show up and show out just to Marra Drive home how superior of a champion I truly am. It’s not enough to have the smart people know what’s up, I gotta make you dumb motherfuckers get it too, and I know even you slow bitches will when you see a 2 next to my title defences and only a 1 next to my closest competition.

(Maggall slaps the Prestige Champion on his shoulder, signifying it’s staying right where it is.)

So Mark, I am going to hit you with all that I’ve got, which is more than you can take.

And what’s the best you got to say to me?

You look down on me because I was there for Nobi’s rap? Sorry for my big black ass entertaining the people! Would you feel the same if I was to karaoke some cracker rock music or some Romani hymn? Would you take me seriously if I had members of my squad named Nig and the other named Ga, like you have Gyp and Sy despite how much act like the latter is an actual slur? It’s always interesting to me when so many people in wrestling always take rap to be the lowest form of entertainment, I wonder why that is? I almost think you’re part of the rap isn’t a real music crowd.

Well hate to break it to ya, kid, whether a man raps or not, if he’s over 300 pounds and he falls on you, it’s going to hurt. Think Mark, think! Whether you respect me due to having part-time effort in OWA or not, the damage I’m going to do to your body will be permanent as you carry that full-time for the rest of your career! But before you face the consequence of your own stupidity, I’ll clue you in on a little secret I don’t divulge to everyone I deal with.

The reason my big fat ass can joke around and fuck around as much as I want most of the time is because I don’t need to take you guys that seriously. I don’t need to be serious most of the time because you people are not on my level! I’m bigger. I’m badder. I’m meaner. And even when I’m a part-timer and don’t give a fuck about this company most of the year, somehow I’m able to do a better job with the small amount of time I put in than you clowns do your entire year of lacklustre performances. You idiots can’t even grasp that part of this business is entertainment, no wonder they needed me back. I’m the best thing that’s happened to this championship. You people just can’t stomach that truth, you’re lightweights not only in body but in spirit, mind, and soul on top of it!

(Maggall shakes his head.)

It’s one thing that you don’t do any research, that’s typical laziness you can expect from you bums these days, but it’s next level that you don’t even seem to remember our last matches. Why is it that you make yourself out to be some sort of speedster I can’t get my hands on? Not only have I gotten my hands on quicker smaller wrestlers than yourself, I had you perfectly positioned to squash you for good before Matt interfered to save you. Now you’re going to learn what would have happened in all of those matches we’ve been in if you hadn’t had the backup of your white masters. Just like when Nate Cage made sure you wouldn’t become TV Champion, I’m going to prove that you do in fact crumble when the biggest spotlight is on you, and you aren’t given a freeride wrestling an ironic luchador for a title. You’ve had it easy here in OWA, and all the disrespect you’ve thrown my way has only served to make me decide to give you the hardest time you’ve had between those ropes. It doesn’t matter how rich you are or how impoverished your people have been over the centuries. Everything changes between those ropes when a man steps up to another man without these outside factors dictating what happens. If you were smart, you’d use your GM powers to cancel this match as soon as the show starts, but I know the functions of your brain are just as for show as your muscles, so I’ll be pummelling you with my size advantage. I’ll make you pay for even daring to invoke the great name of Muhammad Ali to reference what your two left feet can do inside that ring against another Muslim fighting for my people, you clueless Romani Princess.

You’re no Ali. You’re going to be swatted like a butterfly sprayed like a bee when these bug-killing hands knock your fat head off your shoulders. I can’t stand you punks always hiding behind other people’s personas and quotes. I hate how indecisive you are when you’re unable to decide if you’re fighting on behalf of the common man or if you want to flaunt your little riches as a millionaire. I have no patience nor love for people with identity crises as they try to retell stories at every turn about themselves and the people around them, but I do them the favour of making them know that being my victim is the only identity they need. Worry not Mark, it’ll all be over soon. No more struggle between the Romani King or the man for all races, no more the common man and the rich aristocrat, being my bitch is all you’ll have left. I’ll topple you like a confederate statue in the modern age. And when it is over, OWA will remember the real history of this company with Maggall as the most dangerous big man this company has ever been graced with. The magnanimous champion who gives the masses insight on their favourite heroes by smashing them open and exposing them for the world to see.

(The kids cheer as they throw candy and broken American Pinata’s into the air, and Maggall lifts the Prestige Championship into black.)

[Landerson and his family shuts off the screen when he heads straight back to his locker room before the match begins this Saturday]

“Is it rolling-- Ah good.”

Sabertooth places the camera on the table in front of him before taking a seat. He grabs a bottle of water and pours himself a glass. After chugging through it, he pours the remaining contents of the bottle over his head to cool down. Pulling his hair back, he turns his attention towards the camera.

“Man I needed that! To the people watching, you may be wondering what’s the point of this. Didn’t I just have a chance to pour my heart out in front of the millions watching on Sunday night? I had an opportunity to address what happened at Civil War but I chose not to get it off my chest. I chose to celebrate the moments of togetherness that we all felt seeing Kenny reunited with his family. I chose to celebrate our loss! Yes! We lost and yet we walked away with so much more. For one, I am ALIVE! It sounds like a miracle because it is! I shouldn’t be here. But the fact that I am, gives me a reason. It gives me a purpose. Maybe God has something in line for me that I have yet to achieve. Maybe I have a larger purpose that still isn’t known to me. Whatever it is, I have nothing but respect for everybody who competed in Dimensional Warfare.”

He takes in a deep sigh before continuing further. 

“I wish we could all say that the battle was over. Unfortunately, Theo wasn’t able to get the job done. Arata still holds Kingdom’s top prize hostage. And it would be stupid of us to assume that he won’t try to shake the balance that has been established with Kenny Drake looking over us. We shouldn’t forget that Arata still has a wish. I have single-handedly seen miracles get pulled out of thin air with that. It’s an imminent danger that I don’t want to think about but it keeps cycling back in my mind. I’ve had my fair share of demons and I fought against it to see the light of the day. And when I saw my soul being dragged into the depths of hell, the fear of losing it all shot back in my mind. Let’s not forget, for a moment in that war, I had to rely on the latent power inside of me. If the demon was gone, why would his powers manifest inside my body? Despite all the good that it brought, letting me go all out against the tyrant-- What if the darkness hidden inside of me consumes me again? I have seen HORRIFIC things in the depths of hell that I can’t even begin to comprehend. My body shudders in fear just thinking about the stuff that I saw. People talk about life after death, theorizing about good vs. evil. Heaven vs. Hell. I have seen the worst and let me tell you, it is WORSE than anything you could ever imagine. I can’t end up there again.”

There is genuine concern in his tone when he talks about the things that he was forced to witness in the depths of hell.

“Back then, all I could do was accept my fate. I had been banished to hell, and perhaps it was fitting knowing the sins that I have committed in my life. I promised Hana I wouldn’t end up like Kenny but in the heat of the moment, only one thought ran through my mind. Better me than anybody else. I gave it my all and my all WASN’T enough to stop Izanagi. I have lived a life full of regrets but at that instant, I had no regrets for what I had done. I tried to stop the tyrant and I gave it my all. If it wasn’t for his daughter, maybe the tale would have been different!  But the fact of the matter is that Arata still holds the keys to the Kingdom. He commands power because of the position he’s in. While Kenny will do his best to keep him at bay-- But for how long? How long will Izanagi go before destroying everything that we love? I couldn’t get my mind off that. I couldn’t think straight. But I HAD to put on a smile for everybody that fought alongside us. I had to pretend that everything will be alright. It’s not! That’s where Jeff and I differ. The normalcy that we’re feeling in the air, is just the calm before the storm. So, I can’t just pretend that Clash is the most important thing in my mind. I can’t pretend that the piece of gold around my waist will make my life better. BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW HOW LONG I CAN HOLD ON TO MY LIFE! I don’t want to die…. again. Is that too much to ask? Is it wrong for me to be paranoid?! While the people did a great job putting their lives on the line to take down the Golden Dawn-- I FUCKING DIED FOR THAT SHIT! It’s not the same! I am sure plenty of them would have done the same thing that Jeff and I did-- But the fact of the matter is, they didn’t. Whether that be their own inability to hang with a God-like being or whether it be the fear of losing it all.”

Chris is trying to keep his calm but it’s hard to do so. 

“Don’t get it twisted, I am proud of what we achieved together. ALL OF US! It could not have been possible without each and every one of them. But we cannot pretend like it’s over just because of a restriction placed on Arata. Maybe Arata values the OWA World Championship enough to not use his otherworldly abilities but what if Azumi or Stark pull it off! What if he loses the belt? What’s stopping him then? What’s stopping him from snapping his fingers and ending EVERYTHING that we have built. And while you may say it is stupid to deal with uncertainties. YOU CAN’T BLAME ME FOR THIS SHIT! I FUCKING DIED, MAN! I DIED! I WAS DRAGGED TO HELL AND MADE TO SUFFER. EVERY FUCKING SECOND IN THERE FELT LIKE A YEAR! IT WAS PAINFUL! IT WAS TERRIBLE!... And I can’t let that happen again. This gives me two options… I let in the darkness that helped me even contest with a God-like Izanagi, losing myself in the process. Or, I fight for myself. I have a lot to live for and now that I have been gifted another chance, I do not want to let it go to waste. I will fight for myself. I will fight for myself. I will fight for Hana. I WILL FIGHT FOR MY LIFE! And if that means, I have put down people that I respect a lot then so be it. If that means, I have to win the Clash and takedown Arata myself-- Then so be it.”

Chris' expression changes as he talks about his new direction forward. His new purpose with regards to the second chance at life that he was gifted.

“JD. Jason. I love you… I mean every word of that. I have seen you both develop into the warriors that you are today. Jason in particular, I am proud of what you have become. You didn’t fall down the path that was laid for you by Havoc. You didn’t choose the easy way out. You stuck around and fought for your freedom. I respect you, Jason. But-- Arata Asakura was once just like you. A simple man. A wrestler with dreams to make it big. This applies to JD as well. The two of you have competed against Arata for the coveted Spartan’s Championship. You’re both former champions with incredible reigns that speak for themselves. Doesn’t it bother you that Arata, a man that once was within your reach, a man that you beat!-- now holds the OWA World Championship? One different decision and perhaps it would have been YOU at the spot. JD or Jason, I don’t care. You’re both capable but you still haven’t broken the mold. You still haven’t achieved what you SHOULD have YEARS AGO! Arata lapped you both. He overtook you and grabbed this company by the fucking balls. It must irk you, doesn't it? You could have achieved everything that you ever wished for but now here you are, a background to somebody else’s story. While Jeff and I fought Arata to our deaths-- The rest of you did what you’ve always done. Be a spectator. It didn’t have to be me to take that step. It didn’t have to be Jeff. BUT WE DID! Not because that’s expected of us. Not because we owed something to the people. Because that was the right thing to do. NOBODY STOPPED ANY OF YOU TO DO THE SAME! That’s where we are different.”

Chris feels terrible saying things in this regard but he is left with no choice.

“While JD and Jason talk about taking this company by the fucking balls--- we shut up and DO IT! We don’t wait for the right chance. We don’t wait for somebody to tell us that it’s finally our turn. I don’t feel good bragging but facts do matter. Third ever Triple Crown. Second-ever Grand Slam in this company’s history. I have achieved EVERYTHING possible for a wrestler to achieve. I have heard Lance Hart refer to me as a bonafide future Hall of Famer. I have ALREADY cemented my legacy-- Everything going forward is just an added bonus. If facts are anything to go by, Jeff and I are two of the greatest to EVER step foot in this company. Clash of the Titans. Ascension to the Heaven. World Titles. WE HAVE DONE IT ALL! So, while I do appreciate the fighting words coming from JD and Jason. Simply put, we’re better. We’re the pillars of this company. Kingdom was BUILT from our blood, sweat, and tears. Not Finnegan Wakefield! I wish him a quick recovery, by the way. Jeff and I still STAND HERE TODAY despite everything we have achieved. It would have been easier to just walk away. We wouldn’t have to deal with Arata. We wouldn’t have to lose our lives over fucking bullshit. But that’s what defines us. I am not a CM Nas type to hog the spotlight way past my prime. I AM STILL AT THE TOP OF WHAT I FUCKING DO! I want us to concentrate on the war ahead, but people tell me that it’s all fine. ALRIGHT! I will play by your fucking rules. I will wrestle my fucking heart out. I will show the world why I am one of the best to ever fucking do it! Just because my mind wanders into dark times that lie ahead, it doesn’t mean that I have forgotten who I am!”

Sabertooth grabs the camera and gets it close up to his face.

“As far as I am concerned, Jason-- You have never beat me in OWA soil. In fact, you have never beat me in a single competition at all! As far as I am concerned, you can’t declare your intentions of being the fucking King before you beat me. And you certainly can’t talk about winning the Clash when you’ve got a tag title match right ahead of ya. This is what y’all wanted right? For once to leave the Unknown Realm behind and let our fists do the taking. Shit. I am about to act up. I will talk my shit cause I have earned it! Grand fucking Slam. Tag champs. This shit ain’t slipping off my shoulder. Fuck no! By mere association, Jeff and I were already the BEST TAG TEAM IN THE COMPANY’S HISTORY! But now that we’ve had quite a bonding experience. Dying together will do that to ya. The rest of y’all are FUCKED! We run this shit. We’re here to stay. Might as well declare us tag team of the fucking century.”