Rebecca was no stranger from learning something new before her own matches. Although she was taught by some of the best in both professions, she would always go into her matches with some sort of advice from those who helped her on the journey. Rebecca found herself back in Anaheim but not in her usual apartment complex. The Californian was dressed and ready for a gym session and the lighting within the room was set, the sounds of Lil Peep is heard through the speakers within the room as the door creaks open and none other than Ryan Young stepped into the room.

The former XHF Tag Team Champion wore a skintight top and dark shorts, an engagement ring wrapped around his finger which he takes off before applying the tape around his fingers and hand. Ryan looks into the mirror to see his own reflection, his eyes then glance over to Rebecca.

“So tell me, how did it end?”

“How did it end? I honestly don’t want to go into too much detail over it.”

“Becky, I just wanted to know if he did something to you or is the feeling mutual? Maybe a break apart, was that it?”

“More or less, yeah, we had our own things to focus on and he said it’s best if he wasn’t there to cover me in his shadow.”

“I mean- that would make some sense.”

Rebecca sighed, tilting her head downwards and pinching the bridge of her nose before turning her head once again to look up to Ryan.

“In what way?”

“In the way that he was trying to protect you, I’ve seen the way you’ve been changing a little. There’s more aggression in you than before, and that’s something I’ve not seen since your final run in the octagon.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’m just wondering if that’s what’s been affecting you as of late if that was the thing that’s been ticking you off lately.”

Rebecca nods.

“I know my little sister all too well, and to see you act in this manner is just enough to make me realise if you’re ready for this championship fight ahead of you. Here’s the thing about being a champion, not many have the distinct privilege of being champion for a very long time, including those who are new to this like you are. Not everyone can be the perfect champion, take a look around you. Jay had gotten a month of a reign as X*Crown Champion, I had gotten a five-month reign as Tag Team Champion. We’re both good but doesn’t mean we can have lengthy reigns, you got to realise that even when you are a champion yourself.”

Again, Rebecca nods as she takes in everything Ryan spoke. It was a lesson she wanted, and a lesson she has taken in seriously, this was something she wanted to learn and use to her own sake for the championship match that awaits her.

“All you need to do is to not get stressed out by the littlest of things, because there have been many first-hand experiences that can tell you what it’s like entering a match for any championship with some bit of stress. What you need to focus on is how you compete, you need to work with your head and see how far you can go.”

“I appreciate the comments, I think this might be something for me to think about.”

“It is and I want you to use it to your own advantage… Now, do I need to tell you about luck?”

Rebecca quickly smiles and then laughs at Ryan’s comments, she leans her head in and rests on Ryan’s chest but keeps her smile on her face.

“I don’t need luck, I have the skill and why should I rely on luck when I know how to wrestle.”

“There you go. Now, let’s get this training session going and then get you on that flight to Pennsylvania.”

Ryan releases his grip around Rebecca’s arms and lets her take first pick as to what to choose in the gym. Rebecca feels much more confident about herself and this match going forward, there needs to be a focus on what’s ahead and not let anything get into her head. No matter what happens, Rebecca needed to think in her head that this is hers for the taking and that championship is soon to be hers, but now, only time will truly tell.




“I wanted the best, and sometimes, I have to force my way into that place to get the best.”

Rebecca’s mind has been completely set on Alyssa Grace and her OWA Goddesses Championship that she holds proudly, Rebecca knew that she needed to do more than to show she’s not just another contender to the title but to do everything she’s been taught since joining the professional wrestling business. As she sat in her Bakersfield home, where her parents reside, as she sat perched in her bedroom’s balcony watching the sunset go down on the city itself. The sound of a humble sigh is heard from the Californian as she tilts her head forward and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Vanessa Laurent tried her best, but at the end of the day, her best just wasn’t good enough to let her even stand on her own two feet. I did what I said I could, I showed her what I could really do as an athlete, and where did that bring me?” Rebecca questioned. “It brought me right to Alyssa Grace, someone I’ve always seen eye to eye with and someone I’ve been friends with for a while now. It brought me to what she holds in her hands right now. It brought me to the Goddesses Championship that she’s been holding for a while now, ever since Final Destination. A lot of people have been asking me if what I’m doing is a death wish to my own name, to see if I end up like Azumi Goto or those who’ve stepped up to take the challenge of dethroning Alyssa.”

“They say there’s no hope for me, Alyssa is unmatched and on another level- but there’s a reason why I wanted to face her, why I stepped up when people told me I shouldn’t when they said I wasn’t truly set just yet and it’s simple. I wanted to put their theories to the test.” Rebecca smiled. “I wanted to prove the doubters wrong, that’s how I go along my way. I’ve been trying to prove them wrong for almost all of my matches- and they’re at the point of ‘there is no hope for Becks at this stage, she needs a career revival when it just began’. I simply laughed at them, because for once, this wasn’t a revival- this was a stamp of approval, this was me placing my foot down and telling those that I will not go anywhere anytime soon.”

Rebecca begins to become lost in her own thoughts, although smiling, her mind is somewhere else. Continuously thinking back to the previous Odyssey and remembering how many more stepped up to the challenge of “all-comers” and reminding herself of the possible challenges that’ll come with herself to just get their hands on Alyss Grace.

“That goes for you especially, Morrighan,” Rebecca points a finger upward. “For you, this is just another match where you might think that you can look down on me like I am Liara Lawson- but no, Morrighan, this is far from it because unlike her, I fight back and I clip the wings of those who try to soar through the air with no grasp of what they truly want. To you, this is just about being a champion because you let your mind become corrupted and become someone you truly are not. I’m shocked nobody has ever thought of diagnosing you with schizophrenia yet because you seem like you’ve been suffering from it for a while now, it may seem.”

“Enlighten me on what that voice says, Morrighan, what does it tell you? I know that in your head, it’s speaking to you, and you’re it’s speaker. To think for one whole second I have to ask for permission from you whether I have to take my seat at the table when you’re in the same boat as I-- it just baffles me entirely because you know and I know that without that voice in your head, what would Morrighan McDonnell really would have become by now? Treating that mental illness like a personality trait isn’t going to get you far, Morrighan, because I’ve been in those shoes before. When I started upon this brand, all I did was say how much of an MMA fighter I was without going into too much detail about things.”

Rebecca sighed. “Then I realised how much people looked down on me for, and I truly saw the reason why nobody believed in me. I never gave them the examples to prove I am someone who’s a deadly threat. Morrighan thinks that because she’s been hurting people for a while and doing whatever she god damn pleases- she’s ‘Odyssey’s Greatest Threat’ but the fact is that she’s nowhere near it. She’s just some face painted - who appears here and there - person who thinks she holds the power to instantly put fear into her own opponents. Things like that, Morrighan, would scare a child- not some grown adult unless your biggest fear is clowns because from looking at you- you act like a clown at times.”

“But let me get to something that I have to just…” Rebecca sighs. “Questionable substance abuse problems in my past?”

Rebecca stood up from her chair, taking a few steps forward into her bedroom and to a large dresser leaned back against the wall where most of her mixed martial art trophies and medals are placed, along with the signature gloves she had not worn since her final bout in the octagon.

“I honestly do not know where you’re going with questionable substance abuse from my past because- well, I never had those problems and if you honestly think that then let me tell you about every drug test I’ve taken before every fight and came back clean on. These gloves were worn by a complete natural who had no time for those people that thought doping before their matches, and I’ve seen people’s fights be cancelled because of that- hell, some of mine back then were called off or the losses were turned to wins because of one or two that decided to be the funny person.” Rebecca placed the gloves back down again and let out a deep sigh. “Don’t ever think that because there’s plenty in the sport that has doped before I have done too, rumours aren’t true and you’re spreading false information around as it’ll get to my head."

“Not a chance that'll work against me, Morrighan.”

“Monday Night Odyssey doesn’t belong to you at all, it doesn’t even come close to what you've been claiming it to be. It’s just a normal day for me, and for you, you’ve been underestimating the wrong girl this whole time. It’s about time someone finally brings you closure and gives you silence because when it comes from me, I’ll be making sure you take the fall for it too. If you’re lucky, you might tap out quickly, but who knows?” Rebecca questioned with a cocky tone. “Just expect everything will be thrown at you, Morrighan, because if not- I’m going to clip that wing of yours right off your back and we’ll see how you fly then.”

“Ta-ta, for now, bitch.”

The scene quickly fades to black.

{Scene Start: The camera starts up and we are shown the inside of the Dunkin Donuts Center in the capital of Rhode Island itself, Providence, namely one candle lit locker room in particular and it is here that we see the "Invincible Dragon" himself sitting in the middle of the room, in quiet mediatation, his ring coat hanging just behind him in the camera's view}

"First things first, I must admit at being tardy this week with speaking to you all. I have been preoccupied as it goes, watching a dear friend slowly start to descend closer and closer to a darkness that not many people can actuallly understand."

{Ryo's eyes open in the dim candle lit room and we can see the light from the candles reflect off of his eyes}

"But then again, both Jeff X and Havoc might be able to in their own distinct ways. Jeff because fo what Mongoose has done to him recently."

"And Havoc...well, what more is there to be said there."

"Which brings me to little boy blue, the self professed "Immortal King"...the "Devionne Slayer" himself, Maverick. A man who claims that he is a virtual king to which all of us must bow before him...and his partner for this eve in the form of the shrouded monster that is Abholos."

"Tell me, gentlemen...and I used the term loosely...what makes you honestly think that you survive what is to come this eve?"

"Yes, this is the term time that Jeff and I will be teaming together in that ring and yet I see nothing but a hard fought victory because Jeff and I, we understand each other on a wavelength that Arata and I seemingly cannot."

{Ryo puts a singular finger to his left temple}

"You see, Jeff and I operate on the same wavelength because we have had to earn everything that we have. Do I act like a rich boy...perhaps, but then aggain we all have our gimmicks, but mine is partially real because I come from a slightly well off family, but still my parents wanted me to earn everything that I ever got. To cover the expenses that I would have in training to become a wrestler, I had to first obtain a trade skill in case I could not cut it as a wrestler."

"Give and Take, Risk and Reward. These are simple aspects of life,  ones that myself and Jeff understand completely."

"But you, Maverick. You just seemingly don't understand them. You seek to undermind or defrock, you befriend those in power so that you can steal it for yourself. One only has to look to your time as apart of Claudia Michael's faction in Wrestleworld as a prime example. You tried to remove a true threat to you in Wraith and now you seek to do the same to Reno Dumont...and you whine and bitch when things don't go your way and yet you are quick to brag when others do the work for you."

"You love to claim that you stand on your own and yet you have hired guns."

{Ryo chuckles bitterly for a moment}

"Quite the irony, aren't you. You are more like the guy that they picked to play Lex Luthor in Batman v. Superman a couple of years ago, the worst pick for the biggest role...something that will become quite evident in tonight's match."

"But Abholos...ye gods, what a monster."

"How do you prepare for something like *that*? A creature that once supposedly sent my former mentor in Stephanie Matsuda into the shadow realm over in Strong Style Wrestling...was Havoc truly in dire need for some real talent here in the Omega Wrestling Alliance?"

{Ryo places a finger to his chin and looks "thoughtful" for a moment before nodding slowly}

"Honestly, yes...I mean Havoc did recruit both Jacob Knight *AND* Maverick to his little band of miscreints and now look at them. The only truly successful two out of the entire lot is Havoc and Vincent...and Vincent, well he's about to have more trouble than he's worth soon."

"So Abholos, I can see why you were recruited by Havoc...after all, evil needs evil...and you are stuck tonight working with a Sprite Zero of Evil in Maverick. But Iwill let you in on a little secret, Abholos."

"You don't scare me."

"You don't scare me because you're not the monster that I fear nor can you be, the monster that I fear is one a thousand times stronger than you and I see him each and every day when I wake."

"He is the only monster that can ever truly destroy me if given the chance, to turn this Invincible Dragon into a Dark Dragon...that would truly be the darkest of days...but when one's own worst monster is himself, that is the one and only time that you can truly say that you know the devil inside."

"That is why when you step into the ring tonight against the Frontline, Abholos, you will fail your new master. Because Jeff and I do not fear you nor your partner...but this will be fun for what is to come next."

{Ryo then stands up and does a couple of stretches before he walks over and retrieves his ring coat before he slings it onto his powerful frame at which point he gives the camera a warm smile}

"Now Jeff, let us dance the Devil's Dance with these two fools...and pray that they can keep up with our greatness."

{Ryo tosses the camera a wink before the screen fades to black}

(The scene opens to a bright, but quiet home in an unknown location. What looks like something out of Mr. Roger’s neighborhood, there’s a certain level of unsettledness in the air, as if this place was more than it seemed. The camera turns to the door where we see Mr. Edward E. Softly himself walk through the door dressed in his signature red sweater. He has a friendly disposition on his face as he greets those who are watching.)

Edward Softly: Hidey-ho, neighbor! I’m glad you were able to make it! Sit down, and relax a while! I could see that you left yourself in. I like to leach my door unlocked so everyone can feel that mi casa es su casa!

(The camera lowers a bit as if you, the viewer are taking a seat by the couch. Edward walks by you, his body doing a mock shiver as he walked by.)

Edward Softly: Did you feel that? No? I guess it was just me. Ever since I signed with Omega Wrestling Alliance I’ve been getting goosebumps! It’s the fastest rising promotion! It’s the new Land of Elite, the cream of the crop! And most of all…

(A creepy smile appeared on Edward’s face.)

Edward Softly: “It’s King Havoc’s Kingdom!”

Child-like Cheers: YAAAAAAAYYYY!!!

Edward Softly: See!? The people love their new majesty! Baron Goose was nothing more than a money-grubbing charlatan! And Jeff!? In his intoxicated state, he is not fit to rule!

Child-Like Boos: BOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Edward Softly: Exactly! And I’m so gee-golly glad that you’re all here because we have a special event planned for you all! But before we get into that, I think I need to formally introduce myself. My name is Edward E. Softly, loyal vassal to King Havoc and the vessel for...HIM. Who is “HIM” exactly? You’ve seen HIM. He was the tipping point to bring Frontline to their knees and show those hooligans who’s boss! HE was the one to give King Havoc the edge in winning the war between Frontline and Shin-Sekai. We are about to change the way people see this industry. Why? Because it needs to change. A long time ago, people actually believed what happened inside the ring. I’m not just talking about the action...they believed in the people inside of that squared circle, just like the chosen believe in Those Beyond the Void. The people believed in the personalities of some of the most charismatic characters, beaming with powerful personas. Nowadays, it’s just a “guy”. 

(Edward Softly rubs his chin slowly.)

Edward Softly: A guy with no beliefs, no direction, just pounds of flesh and bone who believe they deserve more than what’s given to them. Those who think they know how the universe operates. Those like...Jeff X and Frontline. They consider themselves to be the “good guys” of OWA, the saviors of a capitalist conglomerate. They’re proud being used and exploited by the powers that be, just as long as they can get their house with the picket fence. They don’t see that there’s a world beyond their limited scope. One that if brought to the masses, will bring the world to its knees. This is the goal of King Havoc and The Ashes. To unmake the world and forge it in our own image...inspired by Those Beyond the Void. We’re like master craftsmen shaping reality in our own image. Jeff...poor Jeff you’re too intoxicated to understand where I’m going with this! And poor Ryo? He’s the ultimate expression of Tabula Rasa - a blank slate blindly following broken men into a world of hurt. Those who follow the blind are doomed to fall off the cliff into a world of their own unmaking. I’ve appeared alongside The Ashes to try and change this fate; to motivate the world to look itself in the mirror and see its worst reflection. We are not monsters...I am not a monster. HE is not a monster...just collective consciousness of the vengeful. And supporting HIM in these efforts are “friends” of the cause. These friends will be revealed at a much later time, but due to the limits of this reality’s functions, they can only play but a minor role. But for now we’ll focus on the grueling, pain-staking task of making a better tomorrow for each and every one of you. Remember what King Havoc says “nobody has to walk alone.” False gods and prophets persuade you to give you their devotion, but your words will fall on their deaf ears. The Man Behind the Mirror always listens. He exists He Who Walks Behind the Rose and Those Beyond the Void, watching as society wastes away. Living insects claiming a world that never belonged to them. This is why we took the belt from your pathetic grubby hands, OWA. It’s the gold possession each and every one of you will sell out your own kind for. It’s the singular driving force that keeps most of you going, the last shred of hope to your meaningless existence. Now, we have that hope. The Ashes of the Wake, King Havoc, and Prince Maverick is that hope. Under my watchful eye The Prince will make into a formidable ruler. He will soon become the immortal paragon he always fancies himself to be. But, The Prince must know excellence cannot exist without purpose, and purpose is nothing without belief. The Prince believes in the process and that’s all I need to mold him, shape him into the invincible force he was destined to be. The Eldritch beams its crooked smile upon the young lad. The truth of the universe will open up to him and will engulf the rest.

A big sigh of relief came over Edward.

Edward Softly: And that my dear friends will be the biggest blank slate of all. A universe reborn anew, ruled by The Ashes of the Walk. Indeed, none of you ever have to walk alone.

Fin.

An expected turn of events has been made for Olympus. A chance for redemption against a man who couldn’t resist the allure of the inevitable. Could you?

The temptation was simply too strong for a man of pride like yourself to deny the sensation of claiming another promotion in your hit list to walk through and lay claim to championship glory. The common thread we seem to share and trust me, I am not denying you the pleasure of taking delight in the exquisite taste of victory until you made the decision now to stand in my path much like in SSW. The man who had stripped the SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship from my clutches and started the descent of SSW into the state of oblivion it has become now has made his stride into the Omega Wrestling Alliance in what could only be to repeat history itself, Noah Reigner. Standing in my path and the path of The Phantom Troupe is a mistake you will learn to regret because you’re exactly right with the words that you spoke, I don’t forget.

I haven’t forgotten the humiliation you put me through when you took everything that I had worked so hard for, shattered the dream I had possessed to create a new dream for SSW in Japan to be the shining example of a wrestling promotion praised by all, and the memory remains fresh in my mind of how you stole that championship away from me. You did everything you could possibly do through your actions that at the time, I did see as deplorable for what you would resort to claiming the championship for yourself, but I had a revelation at that point. The match we had at Blood Moon, it was one of the many vile acts the wrestling industry has placed upon me that brought me to the point of enlightenment, it created the man that stands before you today. Your theft of the rich prize I treasured and valued the highest above the rest revealed unto me that honor has been left out of the next generation that is supposed to carry the torch of this business within their grasp. Respect and dignity were shown to be broken and shattered for violence and infamy by the new blood to be what their legacies would be built upon as long as golden trophies pile upon their resumes. It brought me to the conclusion with other crimes made against me throughout this industry within OWA and Wrestleworld that I had to evolve from the heroism and chivalry I attempted to return to prominence for the sake of a champion the world could actually be proud of because the path I wanted to take was dead. I had to be reborn into a man who no longer cared about the fate of the industry, evolved into a man who instead desired its destruction for the crimes he had to endure for people who weren’t worthy enough to take the torch from him and become the man who will watch everything he once loved turn into ruin by his own hands. This one loss, this one defeat, was the catalyst that everything was born out of, and with this match that has been created by the powers that be within the OWA management, it will be vindicated from a Punisher that you haven’t experienced before.

Revenge is too simple a word to place upon the desire I have in this match against you, Noah. It’s basic as it is a sensation that everyone seems to have when a person wrongs them in a certain way, but this is about more than your insult to me at Blood Moon by your theft. This is about what you stand for as one of the people who are known as the next generation of legends to rise through what you hope to the smoldering ashes of the people who laid the foundation you stomp all over. This is about what you represent and who you are in this grand transformation from the man I once was that changed his tone from desiring for everyone to sing the praises of virtue towards the heroic legend Jacob Senn had become to craving the lingering dread and fear of the desolation to be brought forth by my own creation. Revenge is not enough for you, vindication is what I’ll have at the end of this match between the both of us on Olympus. Vindication in knowing that the path I have chosen through not only the disregard for the entire industry as a whole but my alignment with The Phantom Troupe as a member of discord and chaos to be rampant through this company, it was the right choice to make. Your body lying crumpled and broken upon the canvas with the face of destruction that will hover over you to gaze upon his works will be all the retribution for what you did to me at SSW, but I know it will not be a task of great deeds. That’s why it won’t be a man playing by the rules or trying to be a heroic face through beating you with honor and prestige, but it will be a man who does exactly as you put it for what you did to me at Blood Moon.

Win by any means necessary.

You won’t be intimidated by these words because the truth is, your pride won’t allow you to be. You won’t allow the fear to seep into your mind for the karma of the past to catch up to you, you won't let the hesitation of what you’re doing in the middle of the ring to freeze you where you stand, you’re going to stand resolute and face me as no other person would and that’s what I have come to respect about you and why I reiterate you and I have been cut from the same cloth. A man that most people who have their finger on the pulse in this business would say is destined to take the torch, sit upon the throne, and be the man who takes my place at the top of the wrestling mountain, and do you know what I say to that? Take it. Even if I believe you’re not worthy to even have that title of being a successor to me who has spent his life devoted to this business, you can take all of that if you desire it because it won’t be around for long. The torch, the throne, the spotlight, it will all be left in smoldering ashes from the fires I light to topple the entire business for everything it has done this past year to my career because I have no love for this sport any longer. The only thing I have for this business is malice and wrath and the achieve the level of destruction I want to cause, power is the only path to creating that vision and the only way to gain that power is to reclaim what was degraded throughout the years by men who brought nothing but shame to it: the Omega Heavyweight Championship.

After the failed attempt in the Thunderdome Match, what would be the best way to remain in the position to take the power through that championship victory to do whatever I wanted with the entire company in the palm of my hand? Gaining vindication against you in this match through breaking your body to the point of no returning from the destruction you endure, swallowed by the darkness as you slip to an unconscious state, it will show the world that the man standing over your disheveled husk has changed to become the antithesis of what he had desired for the future of wrestling as a whole and to put it in simpler terms, wrath incarnate. Making sure that the man who had dethroned me from the last world championship I held within my hand was defeated and a challenge conquered underneath my boot, it would present the image to the world that the evolution I have undergone since the last time we met has been the change that makes me a worse threat to this business than they imagined. A threat that needs to be taken seriously to the promotion and understand the actions they have done results in consequences, a penance to be paid through the amount of blood and destruction created from it. This is what you mean to me and nothing more. Forget about some sort of five-star classic that you could hang on your resume to show to the world as a perfect example of what Noah Reigner is made of. Forget about a showcase of the natural talent between a legend of the industry that has withstood the test of time for the past eleven years of his life and a man deemed the future through the way he has gone through promotions as a belt collector to swipe the world titles of every single one. This is going to be a war of brutality and violence to the point where only one man will leave that arena on their own two feet with their hand raised by the referee in victory and Noah, I’ll do it through whatever means I have to. Sending in The Phantom Troupe, using any sort of weapon I deem necessary behind the referee’s back, forcing you to send yourself into an enraged state to disqualify yourself, knocking you out cold outside of the ring for a ten-count, the method doesn’t matter if it brings me what I desire from you in a simple victory. There is no line that I will cross to defeat you at Olympus and trust me, look into these eyes when I say that, I am absolutely sincere about this to a grim and grave degree.

There is no cost I won’t pay to make sure you lose.

The changing of the guard is about to be put on halt and that’s what The Phantom Troupe has been about, at least for me, since the very first moment those purple colors were displayed once more. The future generation will have to stand aside because since their arrogance and greed have brought them to spit upon the foundation, I intend to let the foundation crumble beneath their feet and force them to create a new one. The disrespect I’ve been treated with will not be tolerated and if they want the legacies they desire in being remembered as one of the greatest in the world, it won’t be at my expense any longer. Reigner vs. Senn II is what you’ve hoped to be a superior match to the one we had at Blood Moon, but here is a spoiler. This match won’t be better than our match at Blood Moon, it won’t be some legendary classic revered through history, it’s going to be a slaughter. This time, you won’t be the only one playing with tricks and aces in the hole. This time, you won’t be some new hero by having the spotlight descended upon you to be praised as the next best thing to stroll into a promotion. This time… you’re going to realize that the benchmark you’re trying to reach is too high for you to grasp. I don’t believe you’ve grasped yet the person you’re meeting at Olympus so let me remind you.

You’ll meet the man who has ended careers of men who were destined to be the future like you.

You’ll meet the monster who has broken his own body in more ways than one to end those that have crossed him.

You’ll meet the bastard who will not die until he has gotten the thing he desires the most and what do I desire the most at this very second?

Noah Reigner’s mangled body lying on a canvas to prove the point that there is no future for OWA…

Only ruin.

Stark, we meet for the final time.

I’m sick and tired of you getting in my way. While I’ve thanked you for awakening me, I’ve also become annoyed by your presence trying to interfere with my joy. You came for me when I won the TV titles just a few months ago, ruining what should’ve been one of the greatest moments of my career. However, you made it into one of the worst moments I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I had to find my purpose and realize that I was being shackled by the burden of sin, but I was able to get to the promised land all on my own. Since then, I’ve left Game Over as the REAL Omega Heavyweight Champion just as I said I would, but nobody wanted to believe me. My doubters left the arena in a state of shock, realizing what I was capable of when a small portion of my divine intervention is used. I beat the heathen Nas, who now has lost his mind, but I also beat Derelict as well. His friend was beaten and battered and now has no gold to claim as his own. How sad! I send my prayers to your friend and hope he meets his fate soon enough. He didn’t want to listen, just like you didn’t want to. I wonder what the trend is there...hmmm. But no more of that irrelevant hobo because I have my sights on what could be one of the defining moments of this tumultuous year. Stark, you want the crown that I hold because, at the end of the day, you’re nothing but a greedy drug addict. You want nothing but to make me miserable and steal my gold and lose it in the next month. Isn’t that what happened last time? Everyone was so excited to see you have a serious title reign but you couldn’t even keep that before people finished that sentence. It’s sad that you couldn’t even keep that title for long but the good part is that it’s now back where it belongs; it is back in The Awakening’s hands and that is all that matters. You may want to get even but you forget that my discipleship has expanded to the thousands since we had our last encounter. Your boys won’t be able to change this fate that I have chosen for me and you damn well won’t have the ability to take this from me. My people will ensure that this title is never stolen from me and I will show you the man I have become. I’m no longer the Nathan Fiora of the past; I hate these “simping” matches as they destroyed my reputation and showed when I was willing to do anything to please these fans. Call me Father, just like the rest of the masses will when the day of resurrection comes! You need to be cleansed for your sins and that is what the Eternal Sacrifice match will do. 

One of us will be gone forever while the other will continue to prosper or plague the earth, obviously the latter is in your case. I have some business to deal with and this show would fall apart with its Father is gone, so I have much more to lose in this case than you do. People would mourn your sacrifice but honestly, they would just move on with their lives. They don’t need you to live or to breathe; they need me to guide them towards Babylon! These people need me to excite their souls and get them to preach my holy name out to the billions who haven’t heard it yet. You, on the other hand, will dedicate playing around with your Strong Style friends in ridiculous and drug-addicted antics that will surely kill you before I ever do. We are polar opposites Stark, and I bet you hate that. You’re the own cause of your failures while I’m the man who has gone above and beyond, cementing himself as the king of this roster before it continues to unravel itself in chaos. That harlot Tarah Nova couldn’t do it so I will do it myself. I don’t need the boys up top trying to tell their FATHER who should be in charge. I gave them the responsibility yet they have failed me, so I don’t care about who they decide to put in charge because either way, I will take order into my own hands. Enough of the corruption; we will do this in an honorable and just way that will see justice served on Olympus. Stark, your head is now on the line in my brand, and to be honest, it isn’t looking too great for you my old friend. The jokes are over now and you won’t be able to do anything to stop me from destroying your body, mind, and especially your soul. You will meet the pain that you’ve caused me over the entire year and it will be sealed with you when you are sacrificed for the whole world to see! The world will know that this chapter of my life is over and that they won’t ever have to see you or your obnoxious boys ever again. The plague that is Starkman will be cleansed for good.

I didn’t have to get my hands dirty, so I didn’t. Well, not until now.

RD3, you turned your back on me. You made the biggest mistake you could’ve made in your whole life. You see, when we made a specific agreement a few months ago, you made a promise to keep me by your side and to respect my name. However, you turned your whole back on me and decided to disrespect me in front of millions of people, stomping my name to the mud. I was called a coward, a good for nothing, and much worse. You see, we can’t have my name being tarnished without you coming down with me. I told you the job was done and I didn’t lie. I took the money and continued to go my way. You didn’t need to know Miltiades and his goons were responsible for that disaster; they did it so sloppily too. Our agreement wasn’t tarnished yet you’re acting like you’re some sort of good person because GM McAdams was hurt. You are just as bad of a man as I am. Those are the facts and now his blood is now on your hands too. The funny part is, I don’t care that I was caught up with you in this whole petty saga. If I get punished, I’m probably gonna get fired or given a huge challenge that will be hard to overcome. For you though, you committed some of the biggest sins you ever could’ve done. You were arrogant and greedy; you wanted the power all to yourself. You wanted law and order but you’ve done nothing but allow this war to be prolonged and for innocent people to be hurt. I’m not trying to be some sort of superman but what the hell are you trying to accomplish? If you really wanted to stop this warfare you would, but now you’ve thrown yourself as a part of it. You allowed your job to nearly be compromised by Havoc, so what does that say about you? You’re such an incompetent leader that you can’t even manage your show right. No wonder every single one of these groups has stepped over you, ignoring your requests. You are a bigger crook than I could ever be. I didn’t screw you; you really screwed yourself, pal. You’re gonna lose everything you’ve ever worked for once big man McAdams eventually makes his way back because, to be honest, those guys did a hell of a sloppy job. 

Now you decided to side with the likes of Miltiades and pretend to have issues with him, but let’s be honest; you’re probably negotiating with the man on the side. I’ve worked with you and you’re a man who loves to fake whatever you’ve got going on behind the scenes. I was never asked the question about McAdams directly, but hey, I’m the criminal; I’m the low-life. You can keep feigning your position in this whole situation but I’m gonna keep haunting you until you finally admit your deeds. You’re either a man or a coward and I’m not afraid to admit to what I did, because I’ve got little to nothing to lose. I wanna fight more, so go ahead, try to punish me and make me look like a phony. I didn’t need your help to get everyone’s attention in knowing I’m a fighter who loves the battlefield and someone who loves making his money by winning again and again. Speaking of people I want to fight through...Miltiades, that’s a man I want to get my hands on. Do you really want to fight me? You’re quite the burly man and I’ve heard of your legend. A former TV Champion, what a feat. You need 2 guys to accompany you and probably fight your battles too. Do you know what I see? Someone who’s got no balls but is all talk. I don’t care how big you are, I just care about the fact if you can kick ass on your own. But I doubt you will because you want to play by your own rules and take over this overpopulated brand anyway. You’re no different from the rest of these idiots running around pretending they own this place. I’ve fought people from all these other factions and you won’t be any different from the rest. I’m gonna teach you where you belong; not over anyone but just another body in this brand. You’re nothing special; you’re artificially special. I wouldn’t question your methods to get that body, but hey, we’ve had literal drug dealers in this company so my expectations are already very low. I’m all natural, all awful, and all evil. I’m not gonna lie; I’m probably gonna get beat up pretty badly, but hey, wouldn’t be the first time it's happened. I’m not afraid of the worst, but I’m going to make sure every single one of you is exposed and brought down with me. Keep your fake honor and aspirations to rule this brand away from me; I’m walking alone, but dragging every single one of you.

“I wish I could start this off with some bullshit philosophy that has been said a million times before ...well, perhaps in a slight variation, minuscule even, so they can try to avoid plagiarism, the greatest crime of all, by the way... but the cliche life advice or outlook that is supposedly needed to prove how deep or ‘woke’ I am? I can’t even. Hmmm, why can’t you, Elijah? Good question, Elijah. Thanks, Elijah. You’re welcome, Elijah. Such a good dude. BUT I CAN’T BECAUSE I’M PEEVED! Look at me, yelling and stuff, causing a scene, proving that I am in fact, peeved. Told you. But why oh why, are my gears currently grinding? Because look, I thought this was gonna be my bye week. Like football, you know? Yeah, sports. Tom Brady puts it in the hoop better than anybody else. Best son kisser, easy. But hey, I wanted time for my temple of a body to rest up. Recover and all that jazz. Kick my feet up. Perhaps even get a pedicure or two, for it’s been far too long since the last one I received, which was.. I believe, last Thursday? Yeah, sounds about right. Like I said, far too long. This week? I had plans. Especially on Friday, with me being the night owl that I am, being the life of the party that I am known as... I had a lot going on...but I guess the lobster dinner and bubble bath in a heart-shaped tub with a mirror on the ceiling with a glass of champagne and groupies can wait. Raincheck, Crystal and Tiffany. But do you know what doesn’t wait? Or perhaps whom? Moi. Whether it comes to lines or my career here in Omega Wrestling Alliance, I don’t wait. See how I said the full name and not just the abbreviation? Look at the passion. The heart!Look how nonlazy I am wow! This kid is going places! But, opportunities? I don’t wait for them, I take them. Like the bandit that I am. But I don’t wear a mask. Have no fear. I’m never gonna cover this face-up. That would be a disservice to the people. And that is the only reason why I am in this profession..for the people!” 

“After double dutching through some hoops to get a meeting with Mr. Dampshaw lined up...and allowing my partner Shea to tag along...’cause tag team partners tag and stuff, I thought that was it. Get a vacation for a week. Get the toes in the sand and enjoy some downtime. But instead, I have to listen to an opponent mumble while his head is in the sand. That’s right, this week, I’m competing on Atlantis. And I get why I am. Especially in singles action. ‘But Elijah you’re a tag team guy now. A tag team specialist!’ What will you ever do?! Idk, win? Hahaha, you dumb? Yeah, you dumb. But what a bold strategy! We’ll have to tune and see if it pays off! But see, OWA, they are already changing their tune when it comes to The Snazzzzzzy One. It’s because well, gee, I kinda pinned the former OWA World Champ in the center of that ring a few weeks ago. Yes, center. Right in the middle. Coulda been the left corner, maybe even the right bottom one, but I was like nah, let’s do this properly and hit my smooth and crisp as fuck finisher right in the center of the ring because that would create the best photos. And then on the previous Kingdom, I pinned the Spartan champion, Arata in that same ring. Crazy. I’m hot. Red hot. Spicy. Momentum is building. And said momentum is on my side. Nothing can stop me. No one can stop me. That includes you, Kyle. What a tall task you face. Against this tall drink of water. Facing Elijah Hampton right out of the gate? No warm-up matches to get you situated? Damn son. Sucks. Through the wringer, you go. But you’ll recover from this. This loss you’re bout to take, you’ll recover. You’ll regroup. You’ll rebuild. Mhm yeah. Because I know we constantly hear and tell ourselves that we only get one first impression and if we blow it, that might be it. But nah. Especially when you are facing a tough competitor like you are. People know. They don’t expect much from you, let alone win. They just want a taste. A moment that shows them that you might have something. That something being potential. I see the potential, Kyle. And therefore, I am claiming you as my rook. You can’t turn it down. I claimed you. You get no say. Consider yourself lucky. Because I know you don’t know me. I don’t know you. But when it comes to me, I am many things...I could read off a huge list, go through them all thoroughly for the next ten minutes, but at the top of the list and most of all, I’m the locker room leader of Kingdom. No bullshit. Hand on the Book of Eli! Ask the likes of Havoc, Kenny, Moongoose, Jeff...they’ll tell you.”

“They go to me for advice. Like you will. With you under my wing, they won’t mess with you. Because you’re my rook and you’ll eat yo cornbread. Okay? Okay. Cool. And while we’re on the topic of corn, Kyle..since what you do and say now reflects on me, you might want to ease up on being...such a corny motherfucka. Yeah, rip the bandaid off. Your puns, using outdated words such as boomer as a go-to insult is yikes af, yeah I said af ‘cause I can, I’m a mature adult...talking about how you’re winning in life. Might be the board games, sure, but here in reality? In my world? The world you’re fortunate enough to be a part of and live in? There won’t be any winning for you. Not yet of course. I’ll teach you that. I’m an expert when it comes to that. This week you’ll just have a crash course. After all, there are many things you must learn, young grasshopper. Your words made that obvious af. Like, I get what you’re trying to do. You’re new. You want to stand out. Make some bold claims. Dish out some hot takes to get people talking like your name is Skip. Or perhaps your middle initial is an A. Talking about my looks. Thinking I’m not cute af? Stop it. Even you don’t mean it. If you do? You’re a monster and must be stopped. Guess that’s where I come in. But then you talk about Shea and how you think he’s so much better than me and how you were so eager to face him! Trying to ruffle my feathers hmmm? Trying to get a reaction. But that whole try to drive a wedge between two tag team partners thing is overplayed. Plus I’ve gone on record many times talking about how talented Shea is. And I mean every word of it every time I decide to sing his praises. But you know what? Something has become abundantly clear to me. You’re not ready. For any of this. Just like you weren’t ready for football or acting. Wrestling is the same. You aren’t cut out for this. And I’ll show the world just that when you get this work. What work? THIS work. Maybe pursue something that suits you better? Something that caters to your skills? Like retail? Or maybe hop on a forklift? ‘Cause you’re kinda trash. Does this make me a hater? Nah. Just a truther. Sucks to suck.”

“The funny thing is a reporter actually went out of their way to ask me what I think about Kyle Boe? Simple..I don’t think about him at all. Like the rest of the world. So yeah, you’re no longer my rook and you’re no longer a part of Kingdom’s most exclusive and bestest stable, The Hampton Club. Your loss. Just like Atlantis. Your loss.”

Portland, Oregon. The Drake and Damon Wrestling School. That’s where we find our hero tonight. October 7^th… his birthday. But, instead of a lavish party with endless amounts of food and desserts, tonight he sits alone in an empty building, in an empty wrestling ring. He sits in the center of the ring, his knees up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his knees. The building is dimly lit, that casts eerie shadows throughout. The stench of sweat can be smelled all over, as Damon locks eyes with the flag that hangs proudly on the wall in front of him. The flag of Wolvesden. The black black with the wolf’s head in the middle. The worlds “Wolves Aeternum” in blood red on the top and bottom of the head, respectively. Damon understands that this birthday is different than others. He realizes that this could very well be his final birthday as a failure.
 
Arata… do you know what the definition of “insanity” is? You seem like someone who would not know the definition of the word, so here it is for you. The definition is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. So, here I am, Arata, once again facing you in a match. The third time facing you within the past year if I am correct. Here I am… doing the same thing yet again, but this time… this time I’m expecing a different result. Does that make me insane, Arata? If you want to base all of this on that defintion then… I guess fucking so.
 
Our first match a year or so ago was when you held the Keys to the Kingdom. A ring of keys that you could receive a championship match based on how long you have defended the keys for. A good idea in retrospect, but fuck that noise. Too much of a hassle if you ask me. The second time? Well, let’s say the second time was just a few weeks ago at Game Over. You remember that night, don’t you, Arata? I mean, you should. It was the match that you stole from me. It was a win that you decided to steal from me. It was a TITLE OPPORTUNITY that you decided to fucking steal from me. Okay, okay, I get it. You did what you had to do in order to make sure you walked out of Game Over still the Spartan Champion. I mean, I would have done the exact same thing. You saw an opportunity and you decided to swoop in. Smart? Sure. But was it also dumb at the exact same time? You bet your fucking ass it was.
 
Why? Why was it dumb you may ask? Well, Arata, that brings us to present day. Our third match against each other. A match where the stakes have never been higher. A match where the question is not IF you are going to lose your title, but HOW LONG is it going to take me to wipe the ring with your unconscious corpse and RIP that title from your grasp. The dumbest thing that you could have ever done, Arata, was sign your name on that contract two weeks ago on Atlantis. I’m sure you’re probably thinking, “Oh, if I can beat J.D. Damon once and retain my belt, then I can do it again.” But, that’s where you start getting a little too cocky, Arata. There is only so many times you can defend that strap before eventually you slip and OOPS! You’re no longer champion. How sad of a day is that going to be, Arata? I mean, for you anyways. Just think about it for a quick minute or two. You have held the championship for quite some time now. Ever since you beat that jackass Reginald Dampshaw for it earlier this year at Final Destination. How are you going to feel? How are you going to feel not being able to carry that belt around with you any longer? Trust me, it’s going to feel like shit, Arata. Sure, you may get some of that sympathy bullshit from people, but that too will fade. Much like your pathetic reign as Spartan Champion. And that, my friend, is the exact moment when you will slowly fade into obscurity.
 
Right.
 
Where.
 
You.
 
Belong.
 
Damon ponders the thought of Arata being without his belt, which brings a wide smile across his face. A chuckle erupts from within him, that briefly echos throughout the area. He pushes his hair out of his face, before he continues…
 
You want to talk about the taste of failure, Arata? Fuck it. Let’s talk about it then. You claim that you know the ever so wonderful taste of failure and defeat better than anyone out there. How in the hell can you even make such idiotic claims such as that? I have studied your career, Arata. I have looked in the metaphorical history books. I have done my research. And every single place that I have looked tells me differently. You have been the poster boy for every single fucking company that you have walked in to. You know damn well that you have been handed every single win, every single FUCKING championship belt you have under your belt. There’s no way you could look me straight in the face and tell me otherwise. Do you want to know who knows the taste of failure? Me. If you want to go based on win-loss record alone, then you will see my point exactly. If you want to go based on championship reigns alone, then... you will know exactly - EXACTLY - where I’m coming from, Arata. But, failure is something that I have learned from. Failure is something that has only made me stronger in the end. But, this? This match of ours. I can promise you, Arata, that I will not fail this time around. However, failure will soon become your middle name. It will be something that you better get accustomed to, my friend.
 
You have been so worried about other things, Arata. You have had different things on your mind. It seems as if you have been too worried about your children. Whether or not you have made them proud. I get that, Arata, I truly do. Every single thing that I do… I do it for my kids. Every time I hear my music play and go out to the ring and do what I do best… I do it for my kids. Every match, every win, every loss… it was all for them. The days, weeks, months, and years that I have spent busting my ass day in and day out on the road… it was all for them. So, I know better than anyone out there that every time you go out with that title around your waist and defend it.. you do it just to please your children. Well… Sunday night… when I brutally murder you on public television, which I’m sure your innoncent children will be watching, that too will also be for my children, Arata. When I tear MY Spartan Championship from your cold, dead fingers that will be for my kids.
 
THAT SHOULD ALREADY BE MINE, ARATA!
 
THAT FUCKING BELT SHOULD ALREADY BE MINE!
 
Damon takes a moment to collect himself.
 
You need to get your fucking head in the game, Arata. Just for a few minutes you need to not worry about your kids, I’m sure they’re fine. And focus - FOCUS - on the task at hand. That’s why you have been such a piss poor champion, Arata. That’s exactly why your pathetic title reign will go down in history as the worst reign of any champion of any company in the world, because… you could never focus. Always so worried about your children. Fuck your kids, Arata. Fuck ‘em all.
 
Damon second guesses just what he said for a moment. Maybe he went too far. Maybe, just maybe. I mean, he wouldn’t want to hear anyone talk about his children or family like that. But, that was only for a brief moment. No remorse. He said what he said.
 
You remember Game Over, don’t you? You remember that moment when I damn near ended Udy’s pathetic excuse of a wrestling career, don’t you? You remember that unsettling feeling in your stomach when you thought - for just a split second - that you was going to lose your belt? That’s the exact feeling that you are going to feel one more time, Arata. One more time. Sure, maybe the group of men that we faced in that match wasn’t the elite that everyone thought they were. Maybe the challenge we had facing us wasn’t really a challenge at all in the end. But, all of that doesn’t cancel out the fact that I showed out that night, Arata. That doesn’t excuse the fact that you were not on your ‘A-Game’ that night. Face it. You weren’t The Arata Asakura that showed up at Game Over was a shell of your former self. I know it. Deep down you know it. And everyone else knows it, Arata. The only reason you won? Well, we have already gone over this. You can go on and on about how much of a mockery I was and that I just had one good night and that I will not be able to catch lightning in a bottle twice, but guess what motherfucker? That lightning, that electricity… isn’t going anywhere. Not any time soon.
 
You want to talk about the Spartan division suffering? You want to go on and on about how the Spartan division will suffer if I’m their champion? What in the fuck are you talking about? I understand English may not be your first language, but Jesus Christ! You may want to go back to night school to study it more. Listen to me very, very closely, Arata. The Spartan divsion. The Kingdom roster. The entire company known as OWA… has been suffering for far too long. It has been suffering ever since you put your greasy fingers on that belt and became the golden boy for the Kingdom roster. The Spartan division? That has been slowly dying for far too long now. But, once I become the new champion? That’s the exact moment when I will breathe new life into the division. You can call me the Savior of the Spartans if you will. It will be a division that everyone will be talking about. A division that can be proud of their champion. And a champion that can be proud of their division that they rule over. You see, Arata, all of the “good” that you claim that you have done for that championship, has been a bunch of BULLSHIT. What have you done good for that belt, Arata? Tell me. I’m dying to know. Because from what I have seen… you haven’t done jack shit since becoming champion. Your reign has been... quite lackluster to say the least. 
 
Damon cracks his neck.
 
You can say what you want about me, Arata. You can say whatever you want about me until you’re blue in the fucking face. You can call my career and my time with this company a joke all you want, but in the end… the only joke… the ONLY fuckin’ joke… is you. You want to claim that I have only had one good match in this company? You want to claim that the only reason that I decided to turn it up a notch at Game Over was because I wanted some extra zeroes in my bank account… but, at least I didn’t commit highway robbery that night, unlike you, Arata. Everyone knows damn well that I should be the champion already. Everyone knows that I should be sitting here on my fucking birthday as the Spartan Champion. But… until Sunday night, when I finally - FINALLY - fulfill the unwritten prophecy… I will sit here… as YOUR… Uncrowned Spartan Champion.
 
Sunday night, Arata. It’s only a mere four nights away. A night that you will remember for the rest of your life. A night that you will only HOPE was a horrible nightmare that you cannot wake up from. Get yourself motivated, Arata. Go listen to some motivational podcasts from Tony Robbins or some other goon who only wants to suck your bank account dry.


Get yourself riled up. Get yourself hyped. Do whatever the fuck it is you need to do. Because, I want you at tip top shape. You claim that you are currently in the best shape of your entire life, so let’s see it. Let’s see you in the best shape of your life. What I’m trying to get at… is that I want you at your very best, Arata. I want the Arata that everyone thinks that you are. I want the Arata who thinks wholeheartedly that he truly is the best this company has to offer. The Arata at Game Over? Nah, fuck that guy. I don’t want someone who will just swoop in for a win when he sees the opportunity. Nope. I want the man who claims to be the heart AND soul of the Spartan division. I want to face the man who claims he has done such great things for this company since his arrival…
 
So that when I leave you as a bloodied, battered, lifeless corpse in the center of the ring? I can say that I finally - FINALLY - drove a stake through the heart of the almighty Arata Asakura… and after? After I will allow my wolves to come in and pick your bones with whatever is left of you, champ.
 
It’s not a threat, Arata.
 
It’s not a guarantee, nor is it a promise…
 
It’s a motherfucking SPOILER ALERT!
 
Damon nods to himself in approval with what he said. He slams both fists hard onto the canvas below him, before rolling out of the ring and fading into the darkness. His voice, one more time, can be heard echoing throughout the entire building.
 
WOLVES…
 
AETERNUM!

Another chance to win a championship belt huh? That's a good thing and I'll do what I can to win The TV Championship.

Being the TV Champion, meaning you have to defend it in every chance you get. Being the TV Champion, meaning you always have to stay on guards all the time. Being the TV Champion, you have to be in your absolute best in every single defense.

And quite frankly, being the TV Champion, meaning you are the unofficial World Champion.

I'm not joking. It's a hard task to do and it makes you have to keep elevating the prestige of the TV Belt.

And that's what you are doing right now, Noah Quinn.

You're a World Champion in my eyes because you're doing a great job with that belt. Not only did you beat Eon Blue, your own friend and surely a great talent wrestler like you, but also the first ever OWA World Champ in Finnegan Wakefield to win the TV Championship. It wasn't impossible for you to do it but it was surely a tough task to do and yet you managed to do it. You showed it that you had more will to be the TV Champ more than both Finnegan and Eon did and that's why you're the champ right now, not Finn or Eon.

I don't think it was a stretch to call you a World Champion because while you only have one defense so far, you managed to beat both Shaker Jones and Cameron Reckless in just under 7 minutes. How cool is that to beat two guys in under 7 minutes? Nobody can say the same thing but you. Nobody has done it before. You're making the waves and you're cementing your legacy.

I already can see it that you're going to be the future of OWA when Chaos Elite battled The Grimes in that Ironman match. You and Eon managed to get a same score like TJ Burns and Tyler Bridges did. Chaos Elite might failed to win at Atlantis: Meltdown just like how The Nice Guys weren't able to retain the Tag Team Championship, but I do think that match really sparked the fire inside you to win a gold and that's why you became The TV Champ as soon as you got another chance to be a champion.

But there's also one match that I believe really makes you having the heart and the determination to be the best you can be. The No-DQ match against Eon. He was able to beat you and it was The Apex and Foundation to push yourself to be better than Eon and everyone else and it resulted in you to become the TV Champion. And believe me, not everyone can be able to say that "I beat Finnegan Wakefield". You push yourself to the point you're becoming the much better version of yourself and it's just the beginning for you. You're still young and that's why this isn't even the beginning yet for you. I don't know what to call it but there's so much things from you that you haven't released yet and believe me, Noah, something greater are waiting for you.

But of course you don't wait for something great to come to you. You pick them up and you take the scores for them. You've been here for 6 months and the only reason why you're the champ now and not before is because you didn't get a chance for a championship opportunity as much as everyone else. I mean, I don't recall you ever having a title shoot match prior to Atlantis: Meltdown and Game Over. That's why you showed the eagerness to do well in That Ironmatch match and that's why you beat Eon, the guy you beat before and Finn, one of the best wrestlers OWA ever has. And you proves it that you're an unofficial World Champ by beating both Shaker and Cameron in under 7 minutes, Noah.

Now you, Eon, and Mark Michaels are learning the ropes from Nathan Fiora which is a good thing. The benefit of having a mentor is that you can avoid the avoidable mistakes. You can ask questions and expediting your learning and having someone to do the check-in and getting guidance that is experience based, and not just opinion based.

Nathan Fiora might be...little childish but he's a good wrestler in his own right. He won 2 belts in the New Jersey Federation and that's makes him good enough to guide you and Eon around and share some knowledge that Mark Michaels didn't have before.

But...you aren't Nathan Fiora, Noah. You're Noah Quinn and believe me when I say this, you can surpass him soon. Maybe you are already better than him which is a good thing but he still has the experience advantage over you and it's good that he's willing to guide you around and show you some lights.

But as far as the maturity goes, you never stole a belt and acting like a champ like Fiora does. You're acting like a champ because you're truly one.

I believe you're going to show me what kind of champion you are when we cross path on Olympus because I don't expect nothing less from you.

I'm not going to act like I'm going to beat you to win The TV Championship but I'm having an opportunity to add another belt under my gear so naturally I want to win this match. It's nothing against you at all, Noah, but I have to prove it that I can be better than I am before.

I mean let's be honest. For some reasons I always got championship opportunities like this one and I blew them all. And when The Nice Guys won the Tag Team Championship, it was Teddy Mac who did the pin and Aria Jaxon somehow helped us to win them. It's unfortunate that someone as talent as you didn't get much opportunity while a bum like myself get so many chances. It's unfair and now I'm getting hand picked randomly to challenge you.

I won't be upset if I lost to you as I always get free tickets like this to win a championship but if I can beat you to prove it that I have what it takes to have another championship run why not? I can try to prove it that I don't have to doubt myself. I can try to prove it to the doubters….including myself yes indeed.

I may be a former World Champion but it was in SSW and not OWA. And even so, SSW unfortunately closed before I got the chance to have a run as the SSW Puroresu World Champion.

But I did say the TV Championship is like an unofficial World Championship as you have to defend it in every chances and that's why I want to win this and take it from someone like you, Noah Quinn.

Maybe after all, my SSW Puroresu World Championship run would be represented by the OWA Television Championship.

As I said, you're a caliber athlete. One heck of a talent and it'd be an honor to share the ring with you.

But beating you alone….it would be a good resume for myself wouldn't it?

I do believe in you that if you are able to beat though, you're going to be one of the best TV Champ that OWA ever has. Hopefully I don't ruin it.

“There’s no better way to say this other than… fuck.”

I sat in my Master Bedroom within the Penthouse in silence, the large mirror that sits opposite of the foot of the bed reflects how I look, dressed sharply in a REISS black suit and a 30 karat golden watch wrapped around my wrist. I perk my head up to look into the mirror and see my reflection, the scar underneath my eye somewhat healed but even then- there was trauma. After a rough two weeks since Game Over had concluded, there was loss after loss after loss. The superhero people saw in me was gone, the gunslinger that people thought I was is now dead, I didn’t feel the same as before.

“As I sit here, twiddling my thumbs like some sore fucking loser wondering what could I possibly do now, I continue to think back to Game Over. Kenny Drake did his best to fucking kill me- and he only partially succeeded at what he attempted. As I was stretchered out of the stadium, I felt like a part of me died and I was left feeling a bit lost in the heat of it all.” I sighed. “I felt as if a piece of me was taken away, my own fucking dignity. Kenny Drake, he was a good fight, and he took me through hell. Something I won’t even lie about. But you know what, I want you to know something. I want everyone to think back to Night One, I want you to think back to how there was this match that took place. I want you to remember who walked out that night with the Championship.”

“Oh yeah, would I ever like to brag about how The Ashes of The Wake hold the OWA World Championship?” I asked myself. “Of course I will, although we didn’t walk out with the Spartan title, or even a win over Wolvesden, or even with the General Manager role of Kingdom- We’ve stolen the fucking World Title from everyone. From Shin-SEKAI to Frontline… Nobody can touch us. Nobody can fuck with us. Calling us rejects because we’re all being held back, nah… Fuck that, we’ve got the top title in this company How the fuck are you going to stop us now? I might have lost hope in myself, but one thing that didn’t die is pride.”

Pride was the one thing that kept me alive. Ashes of The Wake kept everything alive for me, I always had faith in them. I brushed my hair back with my right hand as I sat up and sighed, I pinched the bridge of my nose as I shook my head.

“But for all of the good things, all of it could have been fucked by one man, and that man is this crazed and deluded psychopath named The Infernal Beast- otherwise known as Udy. The man had the audacity of coming in, trying to help out Havoc - in full body paint no less - and what did he do? He fucking stabbed Havoc with novocaine. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Udy- HOW COULD YOU HAVE FUCKED UP THIS BADLY!?” I raised my voice and stood up quickly. “I’m fucking sick of this shit, I’m fucking sick of you. You have been walking around here as the World’s Greatest Reject and for good reason, you’re so fucking retarded it’s stupid, who’s that sane to climb a ladder and let someone drop you twenty or thirty feet in the air like that?”

“I fucking hate pricks like you,” I shook my head in disappointment.

“You’re probably going to come into this match and think ‘oh man, Maverick is going to be so weak for this Kingdom episode, maybe I don’t even need to try!’, well then, sir. Let me remind you of who the fuck you are standing in the ring with,” I snarled. “You’re dealing with the man that’s stood toe to toe with Kenny Drake and spat in the cunt’s face, I’ve stood my ground with future World Champions and made their lives like fucking hell, I’ve given those who dared to stepped the fuck up a fucking beating that they will never forget. I killed men, I sent people packing out of places they called home, I’m a career killer, I’m an anti-christ with a violent bloodlust who will not stop until I’m pulled off of someone.”

I grab a handful of my hair as I grit my teeth. “I am The King of Immortality, my name is Maverick, and you, Udy- You’re dead to god damn fucking rights. The whole circus belongs to you and you’re the top clown of the night. Pray to whatever god you believe in, Udy, because I’ll make sure you’ll soon see him- and for the rest of you fucking cunts.”

I slam my fist into the mirror I stared at and let it shatter in front of me, letting the blood drip from my hands and the glass jammed into my knuckles.

“Watch your fucking backs, you have been warned.”

PORTLAND. OREGON
DRAKE RESIDENCE
11:01 PM on FRIDAY

=+_H_=E/|+=LL-\_=A_=\N-=_+D\_B-/A=+|C-K+=

A dark room…

The distant sound of something dripping...

I have lost...a lot of blood in my career. 

The room is bathed in red neon light. The upside Wolves Cross looms…

Kenny Drake stands in front of it…

I have endured an unbelievable amount of pain.

So when I tell you...that match with Maverick hit hard? You can believe it. 

Maverick...for all of his faults...for his many, many, many faults...is one of the best I’ve ever faced...and he will, undoubtedly, earn the moniker of King.

But...as I said…not now...not at my expense...and now that I’m done with him, I, once again, look ahead to the future…

Kenny tsks and cocks his head.

And I can’t get there until After...Jacob Knight.

Kenny begins to chuckle. He crosses his arms and raises a brow. 

Because let’s be honest, Mr. Knight...you’re not exactly the future, are you? You’re barely here in the present...and now, much to your full and immediate detriment, you find yourself in a very unenviable position...

You... are in...my way. 

And that’s all you are. In the way.

He slowly shakes his head.

Ashes…

Don’t get me wrong! You are a very talented young man. You have abilities and skills that many in our industry would kill for. You’re a talented, talented guy. But you’re not...good. You have the talent necessary to be good, but...you aren’t there yet. Not for a lack of trying though...you seem to have made a habit of squandering every opportunity presented to you. Every...Atlantis, every Kingdom, every pay per view...you come in steaming hot, fresh outta hell and full of brimstone…

And...what? 

You be you. You...fail. 

Kenny shrugs. He smirks a little. 

Before, it was...cute. Ya know? It was endearing. You big yourself up, you come out hot...but Ahh, just short. Right? Just got away from you. Come On, Jacob! We’re rooting for ya!

But now...it’s just...sad. 

I feel like, this match is...slightly in your favor. No Holds Barred? No Disqualification? Anything goes? Tailor made for Ashes buffoonery and more of Havoc’s...pranks. 

But honestly, Mr. Knight...it could be any sort of match...with any sort of odds...you could have the armies of Rome behind you...you could have Titans and Gods and Mythical figures at your back, and it wouldn’t matter. 

Because at the end of it all? It’s you...who has to beat Me. 

And that is just...not something you are capable of. 

I don’t mean to be harsh, Mr. Knight...I really don’t...but it is a harsh reality that you are facing and I feel it is in your best interest to acknowledge this reality. You, young man, are walking into a killing field, and you are armed only with your heart and your determination to win. Fantastic. That’s great, but you have proven before that your heart? Your determination? It isn’t enough. Even when you have golden opportunities, you fall short and do nothing. What happened with the Spartan’s championship? I believe Arata Asakura made you look rather foolish, did he not? As he tends to do when you’re across the ring from him...

Go ask Arata about me...what happened when he tried to make me look foolish. 

For someone like you, any match you have is both a blessing and curse. The blessing is...well...you still get to have a match. You haven’t been let go yet, and if you’re lucky, they haven’t reduced your pay. You could be looking at this match as your biggest test to date. It may be. In fact, you could be looking at this match as the biggest opportunity of your career. If you beat me...in a no holds barred match...imagine. Imagine what that could do for you. Imagine how much your name would rise...guaranteed a shot at the Spartan’s...maybe even a World title shot. Imagine...what would happen…

Go ask Maverick...what happened...when he tried to make his name at my expense.

I don’t know what you...think is going to happen this Sunday...maybe you think you’ll get lucky. maybe you think I’ll still be feeling the effects of Grave Consequences, and you’ll be able to shock the world and beat me down...hell,  maybe you’re banking on an honest to god miracle from on high...or maybe you’re not…in fact, you could actually be thinking that you are going to just…accept the beating and get beat..whatever it is...I can assure you, Mr. Knight…

A message will be sent through you. 

And I want you to ask yourself...just how that’s going to go for you.

I have...a lot of enemies. A lot of people that want to see me gone, for reasons personal or professional. There are a lot of people, across all brands, that want nothing to do with me, be it out of fear or reasons otherwise. Your very own group, Ashes of the Wake, would go absolutely bananas if Kenny Drake got out of here...

And I’m going to use you…as my proclamation. 

Kenny Drake is not going anywhere.

I see you, Jacob...you’re going out to the masses, and you’re chanting your songs of revolution...you’re a man of conviction, a man of action…but all that I have seen out of you, young man, is talk. I have heard you proclaim, Not one step back….but week after week after week, you are stopped dead in your tracks and you haven’t taken one step forward since being here. Your words may fool some, young Mr. Knight, but they do not fool me. You are backed by a rickety faction that rarely remembers or acknowledges your presence, and you have failed enough times to show, they simply don’t have time or interest to come to your aid. Where were they for the Spartan’s title match...Where were they during your biggest match to date? They were busy with catering...with finding the restroom...with planning their next move.

You, Jacob Knight...are not even important enough...for the Ashes of the Wake to care about you. 

Kenny smiles…and suddenly bursts out laughing. He covers his mouth and holds up his other hand, trying his best to stifle the laugh. Kenny snickers a couple more times before slowly regaining his composure. He chuckles and turns back to the camera.

I’m sorry...but this...isn’t going to go well for you.

I have prepared for you, Mr. Knight...I have. I always prepare for my matches, and I like to believe that I go into each one at the absolute best of my ability...look at Maverick...but you, I could not help looking past you and ahead to the next challenge...Even now, as I’m talking, I’m finding it difficult to find the words to address you. I prepared my mind and my body for the next step, and in the process, emerged fully prepared for whatever you might try…

Honestly, Jacob...I can’t afford to pay attention to you for very long. I have...a championship I need to reclaim...your boss...Havoc? He has something that belongs to me...but believe me, Mr. Knight, that is a topic that you don’t need to be a part of. In fact, me bringing it up is the closest you’ll get to that title...opinions about it or plans to retain it? Those don’t concern you.

Kenny scoffs. He opens his arms slightly. 

So please...rant...rave...rile up a crowd in front of a Target...get yourself nice and motivated, because I want you at your absolute very best...I want you at your most confident…I want the Jacob Knight you think  you are…anything less, and I view it as an insult…

So when I leave you lying motionless in that ring?

You can at least say you tried.

Kenny shakes his head.

Two down...two to go. 

Ashes...Ashes...they all…

Fall…

Down.

Kenny smiles. 

The neon flickers off...the room returns to darkness. Kenny’s voice cuts through like a knife…

Wolves…

Aeternum...

“I’ve been hearing it. The chirping. The laughing. Not even a subtle chuckle either. An in your face HAHAHAHA, sounding like they are choking on three, no, FOUR dicks like they are Seth Rogen. Yeah? Do you think this is a joke? Hmm, do ya? Hope you get an eyelash stuck in your eye forever and you keep rubbing it until it gets very irritated that you can no longer produce tears to help the insane torture and make it sting even more. Then you have to go see the doctor but have to wait in the ER waiting room for three hours first while people are coughing and sneezing all over you and a kid kicks you in the shim repeatedly and a dog pisses on your shoes. Why is a dog there? ‘Cause their crazy owner thinks there’s no difference between a doctor and a vet of course! And once the doctor sees you he tells you there is nothing he can do. But recommends you stop being such a giant pussy and rub some dirt in your eye like a real man or a real woman..’cause Elijah Hampton is many things, but sexist he is not! So yeah, all of that? Completely deserved from all the criticism I’ve been receiving. The doubts...it’s not right! Being subjected to you flapping your gums and besmirching my good name and attempting to ruin my credibility as I keep my ear to the ground, is not right. I am none too pleased. Some would even say, IRATE! I’m the some! Look at this face. This gorgeously toned face with this chiseled jawline! Do you see a smile? No. I know you want to see one. To make you feel better. To make the rain, rain go away, hmmm? Come again another day, hmm? DADDY ELIJAH wants to play, hmmm? You want a peek at the sunshine that is my pearly whites. The same pearly whites that softly nibble on your girl’s ears and neck! A grin? You aren’t getting one." 

"Bu-bu-but Elijah...NO! SHUT IT!! LOOK AT ME! I’m all business and I MEAN business. I’m not even wearing one of my top twenty egg white turtlenecks from my wardrobe because I don’t care. I’m fucking CRRRRAAAAAZY, dude. Unpredictable af! But before I completely spiral out of control, let’s be real here and face some facts. You, people, are using some pre-show battle royal as the focal point of your argument as to why Elijah Hampton is destined to be in a makeshift tag team with his heated..more like, hot-headed rival, for the remainder of his career because he hasn’t shown you any better? He doesn’t get the proper opportunity to shine on his own? Because let me tell you bayyyybee, I’m a star in every sense of the word. I SHINE BRIGHT! FRONT AND CENTER. But look, a star has to pick and choose his battles. He needs to know when it’s time to go all out, to put everything on the line, to put the pedal to the metal, and when to..coast. Pre-show? There is nothing pre-show about me. Should have never been put in that position in the first place and I’ll never be thrown in such a scenario again, mark my words. But that’s beside the point. I get it. I sound like Mark right now from a couple of weeks ago when he gave us the same old tired spiel about how he’s above it all. Don’t get it twisted, I’m not demanding a red carpet to be rolled out for me and for y’all to throw roses at my feet. Although my Gucci flops would appreciate the sentiment, but it’s fine. I walk on the hard concrete like everybody else in my exclusive 2023 footwear that I never wear twice. Normal stuff. Look, all that match was..was a tease. No matter if I won it or not they would still have chucked me back in the hell hole that is the tag team division. Handcuffed to Shea. My talent being wasted away. My future thrown out the window and for what?! Not rhetoric, by the way. Still waiting on the answers like this Yahoo. Believe it or not, I don’t blame Shea for the hand I’ve been dealt. Not pocket aces, but a seven two offsuit. But in the past, I did. I used him as a scapegoat. I’m aware. But I needed something or SOMEONE to blame for this bleak situation I find myself in. He was the easy target. It made sense to blame him...at the time. The only thing that ever made sense in this head-scratching predicament. But I’ve had an epiphany since then! I’ve seen the light! I’m slowly but surely realizing that if I want any form of success in Omega Wrestling Alliance, I have to extend an olive branch to BLOODSHOT. Have to yell it, ‘cause all caps.”

“This some enemy of my enemy is my friend type bullshit. Fine. I don’t want to be at odds with my arranged tag team partner. Because I know what I can do. I know what I can accomplish. A lot, by the way. I can accomplish A LOT! And the same rings true with Shea. He has proven on a few occasions that he can hang with me in that ring, so he must be legit! The only reason why I lost on Atlantis...and I mean THE ONLY REASON, is because for a split second I cared. I cared about my tag team partner’s well being. Awwwww, right? Not trying to get all mushy in here with this lovey-dovey crap that the Tumblr world loves to eat up. Progress. What we are seeing right before our eyes...my dreamy eyes, is progress. Don’t believe me? Roll the tape!”

** Shea has grabbed up Mark Michaels from behind and is holding him in place for Elijah who comes running in with CHEF’S KISS!!! But Mark Michales ducked out of the way and the huge superman punch dropped Shea Flaherty down! Elijah is standing over him stunned -- and Mark lifts him up from behind tossing him over the ropes! ** 

“In my head, I’ve been meaning to do that for the longest. To knock that cheap dollar store face paint right the fuck off that ugly mug with one clean knockout shot. In my head, like I said. I never wanted to ACTUALLY put my hands on my partner. And you can tell by my reaction. Totally not because I knew at that moment I would get fined due to what’s written in my contract for putting my hands on him..but because I just felt terrible for my partner, my dear friend. So that was a real reaction. Nothing fake about it because there is nothing fake about me. From my personality to my skill level, to my jewelry. All authentic. So yeah, that was a double whammy. Punched my soon to be BFF right in the kisser, to being eliminated by...Mark Michaels of all people? Embarrassing. Soul crushing. But that’s on me. I’m not going to blame Mark or Shea. I blame myself. I’m owning up to my failures. Yeah! No excuses whatsoever...I’m taking it on the chin. Buuuut then again, I did slather on way too much cocoa butter on my hands before that match and couldn’t grip that top rope. If it wasn’t for that, Nikki never would have won. So you’re welcome for gifting you that win on a silver platter. That won’t happen again. Especially this week. We are going back to the basics. Back to our winning ways, for it’s been far too long. It’s been a few weeks, oh the horror. Because if you recall our last match, which hey, of course you do because I was in it..you saw us..us..us lose to the newly crowned OWA Tag Team Champions.. The Queens or Wrestling. And the crowd goes mild!  Now, I heard my opponents from Atlantis clowning me for that loss. Especially that blogger bitch who goes heavy on the pics and gifs because god knows nobody is paying attention to the words she types. But her, along with everybody else thinks I not only got my ass kicked, but Shea carried me? K yeah, sure, if you fast forward to the end of the match and pay zero attention to what transpired before the pinfall, sure. Lazy. It’s lazy really. Lazy, half-assed research. Not shocked. Didn’t realize I worked for TMZ and not OWA, my bad. But then again both companies constantly take pictures of this face, as well as shove microphones and cameras in my face, so the lines are blurred a bit, but I digress."

"Speaking of lines, The Frontline. We face two of 'em. I think, right? No? I don't know, there are so many groups on this brand I can't keep track of who is in what. But yeah, I am gonna say that they are. Let me preface this by saying what I'm about to spew to you two fine gentlemen, is nothing personal. It's just, well, business. Just wanted to clear that up because well, Shea and I, we are a package deal, unfortunately. And I know all these stables are salivating at the thought of adding Elijah Hampton..and Shea too. A huge bidding war is going on behind the scenes. Makes me feel like a top recruit talking to Duke or Kentucky. Just being offered tons of money. So I don't want to step on any toes because, for all I know, the four of us could be fighting side by side. I respect you. Okay? Okay. So with that said, Ry..yeah, I'm shortening your three-letter name, deal with it...I didn't appreciate your words very much. They put me in a bad light. Well, tried to. I look good in any light, especially the spot one. Spotlight. Ha, yeah. But you are over there reaching, like a young Bull and a cookie jar. Thinking you know what I'm all about, when you don't have the slightest clue. But I get it, you have a lot on your mind, even more on your plate. You are so far in your head, but you do your talking from outta your ass. It's impressive. You seem upset. Do your friends not huge enough? Does Jeff not offer his teat enough, hmm? You have been in OWA for at least a lil while, yeah? More than moi, at least. Then why do you have your panties all in a bunch over us not talking yet? This is OWA baby, everybody knows people wait until the very last day, sometimes minutes before Saturday arrives. I'm not on your schedule sweetheart, alright? I don't just sit around all week, refreshing to see if my opponent(s) said something about me. No, I'm in the gym. Doing my squats. Doing my crunches, my shake weights. You don't get a body like this without putting in the work and Ry, you are gonna get this work soon enough, I pinky promise. Now I noticed you are trying to pit us against each other with your verbal garbage, saying Shea is better. And it's opinion based. Some like me, some like Shea. It's debatable. But what isn't debatable is who is the Batman between you and Arata. Arata is proven. He's a champion. Something you will never be in OWA. But then again, looking back at some of the OWA champions, it's possible. The highest bar hasn't been set. Not until I...I mean, WE, arrived. This match isn't about you, in case you haven't realized that yet. It's not about Arata either. It's about Elijah Hampton. It's about Shea Flaherty. Always has been, always will be. Now, with that said, what do you want to watch, Ryo? Arata let his son pick, so I'm letting mine do the same."

Next Level.

Rebecca felt it within her, she knew she was so close and that it was hers for the taking. All of the build-up was right there and she had it right where she wanted it but at the end of the night, she swiftly departed from the match after herself and Hana Nakajima both stuck one another and fell onto the floor. It was the final four, it was so close, all that she could think of was the shot she could have had. Once again, Niki Khan took it all away from her.

It’s been seven hours since Game Over’s second night ended, and after the brutal Grave Consequences match that took place, she’s never felt so weak before. Though there might have been hoping for the future, there was also fear. The losses upon losses were taking their toll, the damage done to Jason’s back was violent. She sat in the car of the Audi R8, though seemingly with tears about to slowly run down from her face she desperately held them in. Trying her best to be as strong as she could, thinking to herself that everything will turn around soon. Rebecca reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone, setting it up on the dashboard and turning on the camera, she hesitates at first but then takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to press record.

“Okay, here we go,” she states as she falls back into the seat.

“I know that I’m just a bit of a rookie in all of this and not everyone can be perfect, I don’t try to live in a fantasy world where I think that everything comes up all rosy and great for me, but that never stops me from trying to make that happen. I tend to try and make sure I learn from the best, I learn from all of my own mistakes, it’s like what Jay said - I either win or I learn from my losses - and I’ve learned so much for the past couple of months.” The Californian spoke softly as she lowered her head, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath before looking back up at the camera.

“Outcomes could have been different but I’ve always been able to sit back and think to myself on how I can be the one who could be facing Diantha right now, how I could be facing Alyssa right now, but every time I think I rise like a phoenix, I fall with immediate effect of regret and sadness.” Again, another sigh comes from Rebecca. “Maybe I put too much effort into things, maybe I put too much effort into doing what I do right now, maybe there’s too much emotion being put into what I work for. But at the end of the day, it’s all for fun, right? I mean, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for so long now with these few months gone. I think it’s all for fun but then again, it’s just not happening… I’m not having fun at all.”

Rebecca shook her head as she brought her hands to the back of her head.

“If you wish to think I’m beginning to change, it’s because I’m getting a little bit disappointed with the fact that I cannot place my footing in this sport. I don’t mean for it to sound like I’m upset or being a ‘crybaby’ about it but it’s getting to my emotions and I want to change that. I want to change the way everything that’s been going on, I don’t want to be the girl that comes so close and becomes the feast to those who are new.” she stated.

“The next Odyssey is where things change, it’s where I change… I hate to be the woman that stands next to me-”

The Californian's feed was cut as a phone call interrupts Rebecca, who makes a quick dash out of the car and back into the hospital. Though anyone knows exactly what happened after that night, it was reported of Maverick being healthy enough to compete in a Tournament and a Heavyweight Championship defence that Sunday night. Rebecca was slowly breaking into a complete mental state where she couldn’t control what she was doing. There was hope her bubbly side was still intact but the more days that went by, the darker she seemed to have gotten.


Canton, Ohio.

The sunset was coming to a close, and the night was about to fall. It’s been several days since the night of Game Over Day Two, and although there’s no Jason to comfort her on a beautiful starry night, Rebecca begins to rub her left arm as if he was there with her. She sat on a back garden couch and continued to look up to the starry night as she began to reflect on her own career, not even her wrestling career but her martial arts background.

“Maddie Hayes knocked out in the second round,” she whispered.

“That was my first ever fight in the octagon. Spinning Backfist knocked her out cold, blind shot to the temple, she was down on the floor quicker than I could get back up after striking the final blow.” Rebecca softly spoke as she slowly began to sit up from her place. “Cassidy Barton tapped out to a favourite submission of mine- the Hammerlock. I’ve made many taps to that exact hold, it’s why I’ve ended up with four knockouts on my record out of the possible sixteen wins I have. Amber Rourke, Jenniffer Westley, Kimberly Pike- they’ve all tapped out. Easy clean confirmed tap outs, quick defeats to those trapped, arms are broken? I’d rather not remember the casualties of war, they knew the possible consequences of walking out of the octagon seriously hurt or worse- injured for a couple of months.”

“I wouldn’t wish it on any of my opponents, it’s the main reason I just never used it in OWA. There were the casualties of war, I’m sure that I couldn’t have gotten away with intently snapping arms out of their sockets on a weekly basis. If anything, I could bring it back when the time is right, at this stage of my career. There’s too much after going through my head where I really do not care for who I grab the arm off, I will be willing to clip their wings as I have to those I’ve named beforehand. They know the damage that is done from first-hand experiences, it’s a difference from just plain wrestling. See people like Michael Bishop, they specialise in the art of Martial Arts.”

“So why couldn’t I do the same?” The Californian asked herself.

Just by the tone in her voice, it felt like a whole different person than what we’ve usually seen.

“That’s just a tip of the iceberg I have, I’m looking to take things to a whole new level and stop being the underrated youth that everyone looks down on so much. There is a future out there for me, and if I’m to break that glass ceiling, then I’ll have to force myself to break more than just the glass to make it up there.” There’s a slight grit to her teeth. “Vanessa Laurent, first to experience it. I’ve heard from what she’s had to say and I won’t lie, the more I hear you speak from that platform you stand on, the more I’ve come to realise you’re nothing more than just your typical bitch that stands on an ego-filled god complex just so she can look somewhat moderately good. Let me tell you something, Vanessa, standing on such a platform can be very dangerous for your first time stepping into the ring because all it takes the right person to find a way to topple it all over and then beat you down into a bloody pulp.”

“Maybe that person is me,” she states. “Maybe that person could be anyone at all, but for now, if you think to underestimate me like the way you have then you need to see that what you’ve made is a very huge mistake on your own part. See, I’m doing this because I enjoy the pleasure of fighting and I enjoy the pleasure of my blood boiling. Sure, the money is nice and all but that’s not it, I’ve already got enough of it- my family is full of millionaires! My father is a former Hollywood actor, my brother makes millions doing his own clothing brand and wrestling as well, my mother is an author who’s sold so many books in her time-”

Rebecca sighed. “Flexing cash that you already have doesn’t make you special at all, Vanessa, it just makes you look more like an entitled little bitch.”

The Californian finally sat up from her place and looked directly into the camera lens that recorded her.

“Maybe you’re doing this because money isn’t something you think is limited, maybe you’re doing this to impress your own daughter but for me? It’s for the thrill, it’s for the blood rushing through my veins, it's for the chance to make a name for myself. It's because fighting is something I grew up doing. As an athlete, we tend to be perfect in our field. Vanessa, if you were such a perfect athlete without any flaws, you'd recognise that. You'd know what it's like to be a perfectionist in a certain field. But no, you're just some elitist who's only in it for the money." Rebecca tutted. "Louise Murphy was an elitist, a perfectionist, someone like you. She thought that within seconds of the round starting, she could easily get the upper hand on me and make me tap- I knocked her out cold with a Jumping Knee Strike just forty-five seconds into the first round. That was my fifth ever fight in the octagon. I had never seen or heard from her again."

"So what makes you special, Vanessa?" she calmly asked herself.

Rebecca looked up to the stars once again, keeping her eyes on them as she leaned back to get a better view of them.

"Nothing does, it's simple as that." her snide remark went unnoticed. "This is your professional debut, after all, this is all for your own spotlight but you want to tell me how embarrassing it'll be if I mess up? Please, Vanessa, I know exactly what I'm doing- I'm just afraid you'll get too cocky and choke. I've seen it happen before, I know the look in their eyes when they do it. You don't think I've made those who choked get physically choked out for their own stupid mistakes?"

"If anything, Vanessa, I'll make sure you get your few shots in on me, but when the smoke clears and the dust fades..." she pauses for a second as she sat up straight and stared into the camera lens. "Who's going to be the one that'll save you from your own mistakes? Because I'm sure enough it won't be me."

Rebecca had said enough, gesturing to the cameraman to quit recording as she leans back again and pinches the bridge of her nose. Her thoughts are fogged up, even though she knows there's something very different about herself. She's not like the welcoming girl she used to be, she releases the pinch from her nose and looks back up to the sky again, watching the stars fade in and out from the clouds that pass.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" she asked herself as Rebecca headed back inside to the Penthouse, closing the door behind her and heading straight for bed.

FUCK YOU!
 
Natalie is in an alleyway with a baseball bat in-hand, beating down a Hispanic man covered in gang tattoos.
 
DON’T ANY OF THE FUCKING CHOLOS IN THIS TOWN KNOW SHIT ABOUT LLORONA?! HOW FUCKING HARD CAN IT BE TO KNOW WHERE SHE HANGS OUT?! SHE’S ON NATIONAL BLOODY TELEVISION EVERY FUCKING FORTNIGHT!
 
Natalie hurls the bat through a nearby window and tosses the beaten gangbanger out of the alley.
 
Oh, this really is some bullshit, ain’t it? What the fucking fuck is even going on anymore?! Viola baby, I love you, but this ain’t it. Llorona’s gotta pay and I’m not gonna take this shit lying down. Fucking jump me with five goons? Fry me with a cattle prod? TRY AND SHATTER MY FUCKING SPINE IN SOME DINGY WAREHOUSE AND THEN LEAVE MY BODY ON MY GIRLFRIEND’S DOORSTEP?! SOMEONE HAS TO PAY! BLOOD’S GONNA BE SPILLED AND GOD KNOWS I’VE PAID ENOUGH!
 
And despite AAAAALLLLLL of the bullshit, I still walked to that ring and I gave you the challenge of your life, didn’t I, you little Spic bitch? Even with me barely able to stand, spending a night in the hospital, cracked bones and blood pouring from every orifice, and with you fresh as a fucking daisy, it still was only just enough. The big bad Llorona at 100% can BARELY beat a half-dead Natalie Cage. All you’ve done is prove my point: you ain’t good enough to hang with me. Me on my best day beats every version of you ten times over! I hope you make a bid for the world title because Diantha will bitch slap you back to reality. What are you gonna do to gain an advantage then? Hit her with a fucking armoured van? It won’t be enough, you’re about to get a rude awakening and I’m gonna be there to see it. Next time you show your face, best have a GODDAMN ARMY WITH YOU, BECAUSE I’M NOT HERE TO PLAY THE PART OF YOUR VICTIM! I’M HERE TO SLIT YOUR THROAT AND PULL YOUR TONGUE OUT THROUGH THE HOLE! LEMME SEE HOW TOUGH YOU ARE WITH A COLOMBIAN NECKTIE, CUNT!
 
Natalie picks up a trash can and throws it an impressive distance, not letting up her rant for a second.
 
Oh but no, do I get to get my hands on the bitch? Do I get some retribution after she tried to FUCKING MURDER ME?! Nah, my girlfriend thinks I need to stay away from her, thinks I need another opponent to get my groove back. Well, as much as I love Viola, all she’s doing right now is prolonging the inevitable. Because I’m gonna hunt Antonia Montana down and send that bitch to the next life, count on that shit.
 
So, who’s in my way? April fucking Song. Ain’t that a bitch? After everything I’ve done and all the bodies I’ve caught, I’ve somehow never had you in my crosshairs, April. Well, it’s about time we fixed that issue, don’t you think? And if I can’t get my hands on Llorona, then I guess I’ll just have to fuck up everyone that’s put in the ring with me until I can. Hey April, you doing good? How’s life been treating you since Azumi Goto retired? Don’t let the tears blind you yet, because you won’t see my fist as it flies straight into your face. Been an emotional time for you, hasn’t it? You take another L to Azumi but have the strength of character to give her a good send-off. Then you’ve gotta deal with that spooky Banshee bitch who has done nothing but be an annoyance since she got here. Why the fuck are there do many demon cunts in OWA? I feel like I’ve batted away all of them and then another shows up out of nowhere, taking jobbers out to pasture. Oh, but you got her good, didn’t ya? Made that bitch pass out and put on a wrestling clinic at Atlantis.
 
Well, GOOD FOR YOU PAL. GOOD FOR FUCKING YOU. YOU KNOW HOW I SPENT ATLANTIS? BEING FUCKING TORTURED BY A GODDAMN MEXICAN CARTEL! WHILE YOU GOT TO ENJOY YOUR WINNER’S PURSE AND SPEND GAME OVER WEEKEND WITH YOUR FEET UP, I HAD TO CHECK MYSELF OUT OF THE HOSPITAL WITH FUCK KNOWS HOW MANY INJURIES AND WRESTLE A PSYCHOTIC DRUG DEALER! I DON’T CARE WHAT FUCKING COSPLAY MONSTER YOU HAD TO FIGHT, MY WEEK WAS SUBSTANTIALLY WORSE!
 
And now, now I’m free to come back home and hurt a motherfucker. Well, aren’t you just the unluckiest person in the world right now? I’m sure you’re excited about the prospect of facing someone of my stature, someone who makes stars and grabs headlines. It’s a hell of a spot for you, main event of Odyssey against the GOAT. But you see, this ain’t how it’s going down. When I beat Azumi, I went out there and gave her a technical classic, let the world know that I can hang with the best of them when it comes to pure wrestling. But we both know that ain’t my weapon of choice. I like to go out there and batter bitches. I like to scrap, brawl and pummel my way to satisfaction.
 
You’re obviously not so bad yourself, April. You’ve got a Goddesses Title reign to boast about, you’ve been in the ring with the baddest cunts in OWA. And not just the Odyssey gals. You carved out a nice little niche for yourself, going to other brands and taking on the blokes. I mean, your quest for the Openweight Title ultimately didn’t lead to anything, but swings and roundabouts, right? Now you’re on Odyssey making the best of a shitty situation. That shitty situation being that you’re about to catch these hands worse than anyone who’s ever had the misfortune of going to war with me. I don’t hate you, April, you’re alright. I mean, you’re a little skinny and whiny for my tastes, but you’ve got your following and I respect it. Here’s the thing, I don’t care about giving you a mat classic like I did with Azumi. I don’t care about elevating your profile and I sure as shit don’t care about keeping things civil. Every second I’m kept from getting my hands on that puta, I’m filling up with a rage that is taking me over. That rage has to be vented, you’re just in the way.
 
Whatever it is you plan on doing, whatever you think you can do to stop me, it won’t be enough. Right now, no power of man or God will get between me and my goal. Llorona has no fucking idea what she’s awakened inside. It’s a part of myself that I keep locked away for special occasions. It’s the side of myself that almost broke Azumi Goto’s neck with a Burning Hammer on a steel chair. The side that spilt pints of Eris’ blood all over the arena. The side that caved in Jessica Rose’s skull at British Invasion. This isn’t your fight, this is my war. This is the battle path I roll out on and as I run right fucking through you, I just want you to know that it isn’t personal. You can try to fight it, resist it, do whatever you have to to feel like you’ve got a shot at survival. But when Natalie Cage sets her mind to something, nothing can stop her.
 
I’m still hurting, but it doesn’t matter. The pain just keeps me going. You saw what I did at Game Over with hardly any juice left in the tank. Well, I’m in the process of refuelling. Now, I’m giving you the courtesy of a warning because there’s no beef between us: you’re gonna get hurt. You’re gonna want me to stop but I can’t. I have to keep hurting until my own pain stops. And that pain stays put as long as Llorona is out there flaunting like she accomplished something. April Song, all you’re gonna be is a name for me to tick off until I get what I want. I’m sorry if you wanted something more than that, but the truth is I’m just too pissed off to give a shit.