The time had finally come, Into the Void was one week away and so was Logan’s first ever title match in SCW as he was set to challenge fellow Aussie Aiden Reynolds for the Roulette Championship in Paris, can he win his first title?

Hotel Restaurant, Paris, France
Monday the 19th of May 2025, 09:00am

The time of my triumph is almost at hand.

It has been a long road to get here but my title match against Aiden Reynolds is this Sunday night at Into the Void and after that? My victory will be glorious, I don’t care what the stipulation will be because I will adapt to anything that accursed wheel throws at me.

And after that? My Golden Age of Violence will begin.

Right now however? Me and the Shields Sisters are enjoying breakfast at the hotel restaurant, well, the women were, I, as usual, was focussed completely on the upcoming match against Aiden and of course, my triumph.

”Look, sis, I know this tour hasn’t gone great for you.” Brooke stated after she finished her breakfast and Marissa glanced up at her (slightly) younger sister. ”But you’re at least enjoying Paris, right?”

”I’ll admit, Paris is a beautiful city and last year’s Olympics didn’t really do it justice.” Marissa admitted with a shrug while I just sat there, leaning back on my chair and sipping on my drink. ”I’d enjoy it much more if I didn’t have a room right next to EdgelordMcEdgyFace over here but still.”

”You’ve been living with me and Brooke since the Inception VI Buildup.” I reminded her before setting my seat down and Marissa rolled her eyes in response. ”And that’s been what? Over four months? Get used to it.”

”I keep telling you to get used to losing all the time but that’s none of my business.” Marissa clapped back and I stood up so fast that my chair was knocked over. ”Just saying.”

“Is there a problem sir?” A waiter asked as he walked up to me and Brooke quickly intervened.

”Ignore him, he’s been on edge this whole trip.” Brooke told the waiter and he nodded before setting the chair up for me and I sat back down. ”Do you at least know a place we can drag him so he ran relax for once?”

“Ahh yes, the Louvre would be perfect for him.” The look on Marissa’s face when she heard that was priceless as I quickly started shaking my head. “And it seems your wife agrees with you.” The waiter said before Brooke took a sip from her drink.

”I am not dating that man! I would rather go ass to mouth on someone with explosive diarrhoea than be married to him, thank you very much.” And it was at that point that Brooke’s drink nearly ended up all over the table as Marissa continued. ”The redhead is the one unfortunate enough to be dating him, she’s also my sister.”

“Ahh yes, I see, thank you for the clarification.” The waiter, though clearly caught of guard by Marissa’s imaginative description of what she’d rather do, nodded. “Can I get you anything else?”

”Yeah! A filter for my sister!” Brooke insisted and the waiter chuckled before walking off. ”Seriously sis, what the hell?”

”That was me being polite! Anyway, you on for the Louvre tomorrow?” Marissa asked and I quickly started shaking my head. ”You can even do your second promo for Aiden while your there!”

”The plan for the second promo is to go to the catacombs!” I insisted through gritted teeth. ”Not an art gallery!”

”You can save your edgelord bullshit for another day.” Marissa insisted and I growled. ”You dragged me along for this whole tour, it’s about damn time that I dragged you to some high culture!” Marissa added and it quickly became clear that I wasn’t winning this battle.

No matter, I’ll win the war with Aiden on Sunday.

The Louvre, Paris, France
Tuesday the 20th of May 2025, 11:00am

I actively hate every second of this!

I do not do art, I would rather focus completely on my match against Aiden since that is six days away and is my first ever title match in SCW! But no, Marissa and Brook insisted that we go and much as I’d rather watch Justin Smith wrestle The Troll in an hour long Iron Man Match? Here I am, being practically dragged into the Louvre by my girlfriend and her twin sister.

I will get them back for this as soon as we return to the US, mark my words!

”Once again, I renew my objection to this trip.” I stated plainly with my arms crossed while Brooke and Marissa walked in front of me. ”I have more important things to do than visit from art gallery.”

”What’s that Brooke?” Marissa asked mockingly as she turned to her younger sister and my girlfriend grinned in response. ”I couldn’t hear you over the sound of a whining broody edgelord.”

”It was probably some Frenchmen fainting at the sound of the Lovre being called “some art gallery.” Brooke responded with a grin before they pulled me further into the Lovre.

I begrudgingly followed the two nineteen year olds into the Lovre and let’s just say that things got eventful, starting when we reached an area with statues. ”What are you looking at?” I demanded as I looked at the statue in front of me and Marissa looked like he was about to start using another statue as a headrest. ”Don’t you know who I am? I’m……….”

”A dumbass who doesn’t know the difference between a statue and a real person.” Brooke interrupted me as she dragged me away from the statue and Marissa nearly burst out laughing. ”For one thing? Real people aren’t made of marble!”

”And to think, this guy wasn’t even into art before we came here.” Marissa commented as she shook her head. ”Whar a world.”

Then? We came to the World Famous Mona Lisa painting and I had to admit, I got inspired by the picture, inspired enough to start practicing my promo. ”Aidan the smirk on the Mona Lisa’s face is at the mere thought of you winning over me at Inception VI this Sunday, yes, that is good.”

“Sir, please move along.” A guard interrupted me and while Brooke and Marissa started cracking up. “You are scaring the tourists.”

”One, not the first time that’s happened on this tour.” Brooke responded in a deadpan way as she dragged me along. ”Two, technically we’re tourists!”

“I don’t care.” The guard responded as he shook his head. “Just move.”

And then? It happened! I was off in a corner planning out my promo while the sisters looked at the art when a group of school children started throwing coins at my feet. ”What are you brats doing?” I asked with a confused look on my face and the girls looked up.

”Oh my god, they think Logan’s a street performer.” Brooke realized as she covered her mouth to hide her amusement. ”See Logan? I told you this was worth it, you’re making money!”

”I despise every waking moment of this trip.” I grunted in response to Brooke’s statement and Marissa shook her head.

”And we heard you the first fifty times you said that, now let’s move it.” Marissa responded but not before I gathered up the coins because I may as well get something out of this!

We then came to a Renaissance Era Painting of a battle, one that I had my own opinion on. ”That is not how you hold a sword.” I commented as I folded my arms. ”That is completely unrealistic.”

”And how exactly do you know about holding swords?” Marissa asked with a raised eyebrow as she turned to me. ”And don’t make this a masturbation joke.”

”He has a sword collection back  home, you just haven’t seen it.” Brooke responded plainly and I could’ve sworn I heard Marissa say “that explains a lot” under her breath. ”Anyway, this painting was painted in the Renaissance period so way before any of us were born.”

”Bored now.” I interrupted my girlfriend and Marissa shook her head before leaning on the velvet rope to regain her balance after a brief stumble. ”Let’s move on before……………..”

The alarms going off because of how hard Marissa had leaned on the rope had broken my concentration and made my day, but I did use the fact that the twins were busy explaining the mishap to the guards to sneak off to the gift shop where I spotted a perfect mug. ”There you are!” Marissa commented with an exasperated sigh as she and Brooke spotted me. ”We were looking all over for you after we got the guards to leave me alone.”

”We are done here.” I insisted as I held up my brand new “I Survived the Lovre” mug. ”And I’m taking this home with me.”

”Fuck it, after dealing with those guards? I’m getting one too.” Marissa commented as she shook her head before turning to Brooke. ”What about you sis?”

”May as well get the complete set.” Brooke nodded in agreement and before long we had finally left that damn gallery.

Paris Catacombs
Tuesday the 20th of May 2025, 14:00pm

*promo time*

Now that we were away from everything to do with the Lovre (and our new mugs were back at our hotel room) the time had finally come for me to cut my long awaited promo from the catacombs beneath Paris! Though unlike the promo I cut at Marie Antonette’s Castle last week? This one is in motion because we weren’t allowed down here without a tour guide to ensure that we didn’t get lost, with Marissa filming it.

”Everything must end at some point, and these catacombs are a perfect representation of that fact! So many dead, so easy to get lost and join the dead yourself that we had to hire a tour guide to take us down here, lest we face the same fate as one Philibert Aspairt, a man who ventured down here in 1793, likely to retrieve some liquor, they didn’t find his body for another eleven years.” I stated as I motioned to the bones and remains around me. ”They say his spirit still haunts these catacombs. Much like the spirit of Aiden Reynolds’ subpar title reign has been haunting the title scene for months!

As I said Aiden, everything must end at some point, and your time is up.” I snapped my fingers to illustrate my point before continuing. ”The women’s Roulette Division has been thriving for months, yet the men’s division doesn’t have a lot going for it because of how weak a champion you are Aiden, and this Sunday I will send your reign down here with the rest of the corpses!”

It was then that Brooke spoke up.

”You don’t get it, do you Aiden? When the bosses booked this match, it wasn’t because they had earmarked Connor Murphy for the King for a Day Ladder Match, it’s because they want someone new at the head of the men’s Roulette Division!” Brooke stated as she flipped some hir over her shoulder. ”But who? That is the question, isn’t it? Well, here’s your answer, Logan Hunter! He’s unhinged as fuck, yes, but he’s also the man for the job!”

I then spoke up again.

Logan “Heavy is the crown Aiden, it’s not just the title of a Linkin Park Song but it is also a metaphor for your whole reign, after Raven took the title from you after last year’s Into the Void the question was: what would happen if you won it back?” I asked before making a fist with my hand. ”The answer is clear as day Aiden, the division has floundered with you as champion and I intend to set things right this Sunday at Into the Void!

See, unlike you. I have been bred for greatness, being trained at the Go Gym will do that to you, you should know that the Go Gym is a training facility of champions Aiden and on Sunday?” I smirked as I looked at the camera. ”I will leave Paris as champion! To paraphrase a quote the best Disney movie: I will beat you Aiden, I will beat you if I have to burn down all of Paris!”

At that point Brooke spoke up again.

”Ignore him, he swears up and down that Hellfire makes up for an otherwise mid Disney Movie!” Brooke stated plainly and I rolled my eyes behind her back. ”But on that note Aiden? The days when people were wondering who Aiden would defend against in another unremarkable title match are over! Logan has been destined for greatness since day one and this match will be a perfect way to show just that!”

I spoke up again.

”I have waited too long for this opportunity Aiden and now? I am not letting it go!” I insisted as I stared straight into the camera.  ”My moment of glory is at hand Aiden, do you sense it? Off course not, you are still living under the delusion that you are a worthy champion rather than the weakling playing catch up with Kayla, Alex, Kevin, Victoria and Bella.

It is also time that the Wolfslair’s iron grip on titles was broken and come Into the Void? I will be the man who pries off those fingers one by one.” I added as I lowered my fingers in one hand to illustrate my point. ”The Golden Age of Violence is upon is my friend and Aiden? When the Mona Lisa smiled, it was because she saw your title reign as a pathetic train wreck, mocking you all the while.”

Brooke then spoke up for the last time.

”Which is to say? The person in the painting may be as long dead as these bones but even she knew a bad title reign when she saw it.” Brooke stated as she folded her arms. ”And this Sunday? Your reign will go the way of the real like Leonardo De Vinci, straight to the grave! And believe me when I say that Logan and I will be dancing on the grave of your title reign!”

It's that simple.

”For you see Aiden? When I said that I was The Lord of All That Is Golden? I fucking meant it!” I stated as the tour rounded a corner and we managed to keep up with the guide. ”You won the title on the night that was supposed to serve as my SCW debut Aiden, we discussed this last week, but I am done waiting for glory to fall into my hands, it’s time I took it for myself!

And that starts this Sunday when I take the Roulette Title out of your hands and show why Sydney is superior to Gold Coast in every damn way!” I added as I ran a hand through my hair. ”And when I am champion? Trust me. I will defend that championship with the pride, dignity and respect that you have denied it over the past five months! Gone are the days of champions only defending on PPV, gone are the days were the best competition in the division were washed up hasbeens, I am the saviour of the Roulette Division Aiden and you will find out why I am an unholy savior at that!”

And with that I decided to wrap things up.

”I have made my intentions clear from the day I entered SCW, I wanted titles and I didn’t care who I hurt along the way, guess what? I fully intend to complete that promise this Sunday!” I stated as we began to reach the end of the tour. ”See that? That’s the light at the end of the tunnel, but it only means the demise of your title reign Aiden.

And I will happily be the one who uses the guillotine on it!” I stated as I smirked sadistically. ”Woe to the Vanquished, for the losses of weak champions, much like these dusty old bones, will not be mourned, and as Aiden’s reign fades into oblivion? He must learn to embrace it as I walk out the new Roulette Champion!”

We left the catacombs as the scene fades.

Dejected. Defeated. Discouraged. So many words can be used to describe how Artie is feeling following his loss in the Clusterf**ck Fatal Fourway that determined the number one contender to Kevin Carter’s Internet Championship. He had felt good going into that match. For the first time in his short but blossoming wrestling career, he felt confident because he really wanted to win that match, even though going against a guy like Kevin Carter would have been his toughest match thus far. But…things did not work out the way Artie wanted. In the end it was Artie and Bobbie’s own friend Miles Kasey that had won the opportunity to face Kevin Carter.

Bobbie had not been at the show to support Artie, but his father had gone to Denmark with him. After the show, they had flown back to Vegas where Artie’s dad would be spending some time visiting them. With Into The Void IX coming up in a few short weeks, it still hadn’t been decided if Bobbie would be up for the trip to Paris or not.

Arnie: Hey son. How you doing out here?

Artie was currently sitting outside on the patio of his and Bobbie’s home. It was a cooler Mother’s Day in Las Vegas, so he was taking advantage of the nicer weather and had the table umbrella as his shade. Bobbie was spending the day with her mother for just a girls only day out and Loki was laying on the ground beside him. Normally Loki was Bobbie’s emotional support fur baby, but considering the emotional state of both Artie and Bobbie, Loki was taking turns between the pair of them.

Artie: I’m doing okay, I guess. Just sitting here thinking.

His father nods as he joins Artie at the table.

Arnie: You’ve been doing a lot of that this past week. Bobbie still not home yet?

Artie shakes his head.

Artie: No. I’m not going to bother them either. She just wanted to spend the day with her mom today to distract her from everything else she has been feeling. Can’t say I blame her.

Arnie: Understandable. This might be a stupid question, but you haven’t reached out to your mother have you?

Artie slowly turns his head and just gives his father with a look that says it all.

Artie: Honestly, I’ve been mulling it over since I talked to her in Denmark. But I haven’t. And truth be told, I’m not even really focused on that at the moment. I just got an email with finalized matches for Into The Void IX.

Arnie’s eyes light up as the subject quickly changes.

Arnie: Oh yeah? So what did they give you? Something good or bad?

Artie shrugs and lets out a sigh.

Artie: I don’t really know how to feel about the match they put me in. I mean, it’s a big opportunity, but I have five other opponents and it's not going to be easy at all. I was in the same match last year and didn’t win.

Arnie stares at his son with a raised eyebrow.

Artie: It’s the King For a Day ladder match. And the guy who won it last year is also in the match again this year.

Arnie: King For a Day?

Artie: Yeah. Whoever wins gets booking rights for an upcoming episode of Climax Control. But like I said, the guy who won it last year is in it again. Plus four other guys. I don’t like my chances.

Arnie shakes his head and looks away from Artie for a moment. The both remain silent for a bit until Arnie is the one to break it, trying to encourage his son.

Arnie: You really have to have more faith in yourself, son. I know you’re new to this wrestling thing and you don’t have as much experience as the rest of them, but you’ve got more heart than the rest of them. You just have to outsmart those other guys.

Artie smiles and lets out a slight laugh.

Artie: Thanks Dad, but having heart doesn’t always help you when it comes to wrestling. And you and Mom may have named me after King Arthur, but I don’t think you’ll be calling me King Arthur after this one. We’ll see though.

Arnie: You were always such a quiet and reserved kid, Artie. You never had the confidence you should have, and I’m sorry if I didn’t do more to instill it in you. I will say when Bobbie came into your life, that definitely helped.

Artie nods.

Artie: Yeah. She’s always been the stronger one between us, honestly. She’s been better at everything between us, though. Even when we were in that play when we were kids. Pretty sure I only got the part because of her.

Arnie: You remember what that play was?

Arnie grins and looks at Artie from the corner of his eye. Artie thinks for a moment and when it dawns on him, his jaw drops a bit.

Artie: Oh man. It didn’t even hit me until just now. It was about King Arthur and Excalibur!

Arnie nods.

Arnie: That it was. And as much as you didn’t want it, they cast you as Arthur, obviously.

Artie laughs and shakes his head.

Artie: I didn’t get the part because I had good acting skills, that’s for sure. I stumbled through my lines and if I remember correctly, Bobbie ended up yelling at some of the people in the audience to shut up.

Arnie: Shut their pie holes were her exact words, but yes. She’s always looked out for you no matter what. And if you ask me, I think the fact that you played that part and are now being put in this King For a Day match, it’s not a coincidence Artie. You just have to believe in yourself.

Artie goes silent for a few moments, thinking over everything in his mind. He takes a deep breath  and then shrugs again.

Artie: I don’t know, Dad. Any other time, maybe I’d believe I can do it, but right now? There’s just so much going on and I still don’t know if Bobbie is going to want to come with me to Paris or not. I really don’t think I can do this without her.

Arnie: Sure you can. If she doesn’t feel up to going, you know I’ll be there to support you, but you just have to remember that even if she’s not physically in Paris with you, she’s still got your back one hundred percent and is cheering you on. Be the man we know you are, Artie.

Artie again goes silent, and just as he does, Loki sits up and places his head on Artie’s lap. Artie scratches the top of Loki’s head, letting Loki do what he is so good at doing.

Artie: I’m gonna do my best but these guys I’m going up against..they’re no walk in the park.

Arnie: That will just make it that much sweeter when you win and prove that you can overcome any obstacle they put in front of you. You just have to shake off this self-doubt. Just go out there and whoop those guys, son.

Just then the front door can be heard closing loudly from inside the house.

“Artie?! Loki baby?! I’m hooooommmeee!”

Loki jumps up and runs inside the house to go greet a now returning Bobbie. Moments later he reappears with Bobbie right behind him with a smile on her face.

Arnie: Heya Bobbie. How was your day with your Mom?

Artie turns his attention to Bobbie.

Bobbie: It was nice. Retail therapy is the best therapy, let me tell ya! What you boys doing out here?

Arnie: We were just talking about Artie’s next match.

Bobbie’s eyes widen and she looks at Artie.

Bobbie: They release the card for Into The Void IX?! Well, tell me who ya got!

Artie sighs.

Artie: The King For a Day match against Guy with A Cape, Kris Ryans, Connor Murphy, Bill Barnhardt, and Justin Smith.

Bobbie smiles and jumps up and down excitedly.

Bobbie: Well hot damn! My baby is gonna be a King!!

Artie: Did you hear who my opponents are?!

Bobbie waves him off.

Bobbie: Ahhh no biggie, sweetie! We’ll get you ready for this match no problem! And then we can talk plans for what matches you’ll make for King For a Day!

Artie turns his attention to his father and the two just share an amused grin. It was good to see Bobbie in a good mood recently after the loss they had suffered. It was hard not to share in her enthusiasm, so Artie would do his best to do it.

For her.

---

“The minutes, hours and days are ticking away. And wouldn’t you know it, here we find ourselves just one week away from Into The Void IX coming live from Paris, France. The card is stacked and history will be made, but ladies and gentlemen, right now we are going to focus on just one match. One huge match with a prize so coveted that the six participants will be putting their bodies on the line just to win it. You see, folks, I’m talking about The King For a Day ladder match where the winner not only gets the crown, but also booking rights for an episode of Climax Control.”

The voice of Bobbie Dahl is heard as the camera opens up focused on a twenty foot ladder set up in the middle of a wrestling ring. No one is seen yet, as the camera remains focused on the ladder.

“Six men will be fighting for this opportunity but only one can win. But the one who will win is not the strongest. He’s not the most experienced. He’s not even last year’s winner looking to keep his crown. Oh now. The man that will win this match, is the one destined for the crown. He’s the one that everyone considers to be the least likely to win, even though a few of the other more experienced opponents of his couldn’t win a match if their lives depended on it.”

“Bobbie, try to be a little unbiased would you? My track record isn’t exactly the best either.”

Artie’s voice follows Bobbie’s.

“Whoever said I need to be unbiased?! I’m your manager wife! Everyone knows who I am rooting for to win this match anyway. Now, you hush for a few minutes until it’s time for you to do your thing, alright?!”

Artie can be heard grumbling off camera and Bobbie is heard chuckling. She clears her throat before continuing.

“You’ve all heard the chatter. You all know that everyone expects Hall of Famer Mikah’s Hall of Famer husband and baby daddy, Kris Ryans to win. Or the defending King. That weirdo Guy With a Cape to repeat and retain his crown. Connor, Bill and Justin? Eh, I’ve heard some chatter, but overall, we all know who the favorites are. But we are here to let you all know right here and now that at Into The Void IX, my valiant and wonderful husband takes his place and his crown and becomes King Arthur of Sin City Wrestling! It’s his destiny and there is NOTHING any of you can do about it!”

Just then the sounds of some type of royal music is heard playing in the background. It plays for a few moments before Artie appears in view of the camera, walking up the steel steps of the  ring. He’s wearing a King’s robe as he makes his way over to the ladder. Just above the ladder a crown can be seen hanging. He looks hesitant but after a little noise and encouragement from Bobbie, he starts to slowly climb the ladder. Eventually he makes it to the top and takes a seat as he grabs the crown and places it on his head and Bobbie cheers.

“All Hail King Arthur of Sin City Wrestling! Your one TRUE King ready to take his place where he belongs!”

Artie looks down and holds on for dear life as he closes his eyes.

“Uhhh, Bobbie. How long do I have to sit up here? This is really…high.”

“As long as it takes, Your Majesty! It’s time for you to address your kingdom! It is time for you to address the men who are trying to take what is rightfully yours! Men who don’t deserve it and who are not of noble blood!”

Artie opens his eyes and does his best to not look down again. He looks off camera, presumably at Bobbie.

“Who should I start with? I’ve got five opponents and I want to get this over with before I lose my lunch!”

Bobbie can be heard laughing.

“Start from the very bottom. The worst of the worst. Justin Smith! Tell us, Your Majesty, what you think about Justin Smith thinking he is worthy of that crown.”

Artie trembles slightly, but not at the thought of facing Justin Smith. No, he longer he sits at the top of the ladder, the more the height starts to get to him.

“I think it’s…laughable. Whoever heard of a king named Justin? No one, that’s who! People are always talking about how I am the underdog in every match I step into? Please! When is the last time Justin Smith won a match?! Why don’t they consider HIM the underdog?! Hey Bobbie, what do you think my chances are as I face Justin Smith…again”

Artie does his best to speak with confidence and get over the slow rumbling building in his stomach.

“Your chances are amazing, Your Majesty! In fact, there is ZERO chance you will lose to Justin Smith, because his track record says it all!”

“Justin Smith is a peasant! Uhh…he’s the lowest of the low! It’s funny that he has these mentors in these guys who made such a big impact in Sin City Wrestling and yet what has Justin Smith done? Nothing! He can’t win! He won’t win! He…woahhhh…”

Artie makes the mistake of raising his hands confidently and rocks the ladder just enough that it wobbles a bit. He immediately lowers his hands and holds on once again, doing his best not to fall.

“You know..I’m so tired of facing Justin Smith. Is that all that Mark Ward and Christian Underwood think I deserve as an opponent? I mean, he’s only one of five in this match, but how am I expected to talk about him and find something new to use against him if I face him week after week? I don’t want to be one of those guys that just says the same thing over and over again all the time! So once I take my crown, I’m going to make it so Justin Smith stays at the bottom of the barrel where he belongs! And nowhere near Artie’s royal kingdom!”

Bobbie claps and cheers off camera. Artie steadies himself and begins searching for a way to remain seated at the top of the ladder but without needing to grip the sides of it tightly and look like a fool.

“That’s more like it! You tell ‘em, Your Majesty!”

“Same goes for ‘Bulldog’ Bill Barnhardt! I’m making a royal decree right now. Once I am King, there is room for one and ONLY one royal canine in Sin City Wrestling and that is our boy Loki! No filthy and foul smelling dogs like Bulldog Bill Barnhardt and his just as foul wife, Bea! Oh the plans I’d have for them!”

“Remind me to wear a mask when we’re near them, Your Majesty. If not, I might just lose my royal lunch.”

Artie snorts and lets out a laugh and to his surprise, the ladder doesn’t move.

“Don’t worry. I will order them to be sanitized as much as is needed so everyone can be rid of their stench and foul attitudes. They will be banned from spreading their blasphemous words around the royal kingdom. Not that many people actually listen or believe anything they say, but that is besides the point. They are not worthy of being the royal coupe of Sin City Wrestling. There will be no King Bulldog William Barnhardt and his Queen Bea!”

Bobbie chuckles.

“Hehehe…I see what you did there, sweetie! But you speak the truth! The Barnhardts shall be banished once you are King!”

Artie straightens his posture even more, showing his increasing confidence.

“Bill Barnhardt likes to talk a big game, but when push comes to shove, he simply can not get the job done! When I take my crown, and I will, I will make him and his wretched wife kneel before me and kiss my boots! And then I will give them a match that they truly deserve!”

Artie nods even more confidently.

“Oh, oh, oh! Don’t forget about Connor Murphy! That cute but not cute this week Irishman!”

Artie quickly turns his head and glares off camera at Bobbie.

“Bobbie! I know you have a thing for Irish accents and all, but you’re rooting for me, remember?! No complimenting my opponents!”

“I wasn’t complimenting him, Your Majesty! I was just…oh nevermind. Just get along with it, will you?! Everyone wants to hear you address Connor Murphy!!”

Artie sighs and shakes his head.

“Connor Murphy again, too, huh?! I just faced him a few weeks ago as we both were vying for a shot at Kevin Carter’s Internet Championship. Needless to say, we both lost, but this match will be different! This is a ladder match and the crown that is destined to sit on my head will not be going anywhere near his filthy lockes! Nor will it be associated in anyway with the likes of a man who called himself a Nobody!!”

“But his Nobody days are in the past, Your Majesty! He trains with Vixen Staggs now!”

Artie waves this off with a laugh.

“Vixen Staggs?! What has she done recently? She’s long been retired, and just like Justin Smith, her training sessions are apparently doing no good, because Connor has done nothing since his return. And he wants to be King For a Day? HA! No, sir. Not going to happen!”

In a moment of forgetfulness, Artie stands up on the ladder, and it wobbles. But he gets so lost in his King Arthur character that he doesn’t even notice.

“Uhh, Artie, sweetie…You might want to–”

“I’ve had training from Fenris and even Miles helped out, but do people think I’m somebody to watch out for? No! They consider me just as much a Nobody as Connor Murphy was! It’s outrageous! I will not stand for it!!”

Artie begins swinging his fist in the air, and as Bobbie tries to warn him, it falls on deaf ears. Eventually Artie slips and goes sliding straight down the ladder, landing flat on his rear end in the ring! Bobbie rushes into the ring and right by him and he lays back, looking up at the ceiling. Bobbie is right at his side and looks down at him.

“How…how was I doing?”

Bobbie laughs and shakes her head.

“Well, you were getting really good towards the end there, but then you weren’t paying attention. You okay, sweetie?

Bobbie helps Artie sit up straight. His ego seems to be wounded more than his physical body and he shakes his head.

“No. I don’t stand a chance in this match, Bobbie. Going up against guys like Justin, Bill and Connor are one thing, but I still have to worry about Kris Ryans and Guy. I’m gonna make an even bigger fool of myself out there.

Bobbie sits down right next to him and rubs his back. She is about to say some words of encouragement but Artie continues speaking.

“Take guys like Kris Ryans. He’s a former World Heavyweight Champion. He’s married to Mikah who holds the longest reign for World Bombshell Champion. He’s a Hall of Famer and I’m put up against him? Most people would be excited, but I’m terrified! Kris Ryans is a freaking legend and I’m totally out of my element with this one. How do I stop a guy like that from climbing that ladder and taking the crown and then having to deal with whatever matches he makes for Climax Control?”

Bobbie takes a deep breath and then lets out a sigh.

“Sweetie, you were getting so confident the longer you sat at the top of that ladder. You were so close to getting to your parts about Kris and Guy, but what happened?”

“I fell hard on my ass.”

Bobbie’s jaw dropped.

“You swore!”

Artie shrugs.

“The situation called for it. But its still true. I fell hard on my ass. And no doubt I will do the same at Into The Void IX.”

“Of course you will! But you know what you do? You get your cute little ass back up! You go out there and outsmart Kris Ryans and Guy With a Cape because you were meant for this!”

“Has anyone ever really outsmarted Kris Ryans, though? I mean, really? He usually is the one outsmarting other people. As hated as the guy has been over the years, he’s pretty damn smart and he’s backed up everything he’s said he was going to do. If he wants King For a Day that much…he’ll do everything to embarrass me out there.”

“Oh I’m sure over the next week we can come up with a plan to handle Kris Ryans. I think your biggest threat out there though…is Guy.”

Artie nods and scratches his head.

“Trust me, I know. I’m still kicking myself for not doing more to stop him from being King for A Day last year. I don’t know who was worse to deal with as winners of these matches, him or Victoria Lyons…”

Bobbie shudders.

“Oh I think Victoria has been worse to deal with. Guy is at least entertaining.”

Artie rolls his eyes.

“I guess. But he’s still…A few nuts and bolts short of a full toolbox if you know what I mean. Like, what is his deal? I can’t pay attention long enough to really figure it out, because he’s so all over the place. And why would they put him in this match again? He was already King For a Day once! He doesn’t need another chance to be King again! And who knows what madness he’ll make this year if he wins?!”

Bobbie shakes her head.

“He WON’T win, sweetie. Because YOU will. We just need to build your confidence a bit more just like we’ve built that muscle up in recent months. If you want it that bad, go out there and take it. I’ll be right by your side rooting for you!”

“You mean…you’re coming with me to Paris?”

“Of course I’m coming with you. I wouldn’t be anywhere else!”

Artie throws his arms around Bobbie, hugging her tight. She smiles and wraps her arms around him.

“With you there, I can do this! I’ll do whatever I have to do to beat all of those guys and make you proud! Guy thinks he is going to retain his crown this year? He’ll slip and that crown will be mine!”

“So your confidence relies on me being there with you?”

Artie leans back and looks at Bobbie thinking for a second.

“It doesn’t so much rely on you being there as it relies on your happiness. We’ve been struggling a lot lately with everything and I just want both of us to turn it around. I honestly don’t want to do any of this without you there. It just feels…weird.”

“Well, you won’t have to, because I’ll be there. And things are going to turn around, sweetie. First, with you winning King for A Day and then after that? The sky is the limit! Do you believe in yourself enough to win?”

He thinks for a moment, shrugs and then nods a bit.

“I guess so. More than I did before, but I have a whole week to really prepare myself. I want to win this so bad, Bobbie. I want to win just one match on my own and not just any match…but a match that literally the odds are stacked totally against me and facing those five guys next week? I’ve gotta win this one.”

Bobbie pats his leg and smiles.

“That’s the spirit! King Arthur for the win! With that attitude, nobody can stop you!”

Bobbie pushes herself back to her feet and holds out her hand to help Artie back up.

“Hey! Connor can’t stop me!”

They both let out a laugh and when Artie jumps back to his feet, he winces a little and rubs his butt.

“Oww…I don’t think my ego is all that was bruised with that fall…”

Bobbie chuckles and helps him towards the steps.

“Come on, let’s go ice your bruised behind…”

She lets out a loud laugh as Artie just glares at her. But he soon laughs too as the two leave the ring and walk off camera before the scene fades to black.

“I just don’t really know how to do this anymore James.” Alex spoke the words out into the world. Today was a different kind of day. Today wasn’t a room or a prison. Today wasn’t a trapping of his mind, but a different sort of torture. Today was an impossibility. An even that was never going to happen. A place that was never going to be. Sunroof down, some flashy car that tickled James’ fancy that Alex couldn’t give less of a hoot about. It was a warm, wonderful feeling. The sun bearing down on their faces. The sun warming their souls. The sun a warmth that he would never know again.

“What’s on your mind, rockstar? We got all the time in the world to work out the hard stuff, daddy. What’s got you down?” James’ gasoline tinted voice rumbled out. The roar of the road threatening to whip it away but ringing crystal clear. He missed James beyond everything else. He didn’t know if this was a dream, or a vivid hallucination. Right now, it didn’t matter. Right now the only thing that did matter was that they were here together. That they were both existing in his mind.

“I’m trapped, James. Trapped worse than normal. Trapped worse than when you guys came to see me. Trapped in this world that doesn’t exist. Trapped in a world where you can be real and alive. Somewhere I don’t really want to leave. Somewhere I don’t really want to escape, but I know I need to. I know I need to be there for her, because she is everything to me.” Alex said softly, turning to look out to the road. To the never-ending landscape. A reminder of the endless plains of nothing that had occupied them when they were road tripping around Australia after Lauren’s passing.

“I’m proud of you, rockstar. Don’t you ever forget that. Proud of you and Lulu. I wish I could be there for you both. Wish I could be the steady hand that guides boat, baby. But you don’t need me to tell you what you want. You don’t need any of this, Lexi boy. You’re just a little bit lost, but you’ll find your way. I know you will. You just gotta keep on movin’.” James’ voice rumbled, a smile pulling at the edge of his mouth.

Alex turned to look at James, his head hurting as he did. He blinked and realised the torture he was doing to himself. He blinked and he wasn’t in a car with James. He wasn’t enjoying a trip around the outback with his best friend. He blinked and he was back in that bar. Back to the night where James lay in his lap, bleeding out. Murmuring about what could have been. About how he loved him. The night everything fell apart. He might not have died that night, but it was the night that started it. Sullivan’s arrest, the meetings with Vita Mors. James’ eventual passing in the hospital as his body gave up on him.

“Just hold on Jimmy. Just hold on, it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. God why was there so much blood?” Alex said the words, but found they came out as whispers. Muted to everyone but him. He looked down at his hands, covered in his friend’s blood. Covered in memories of a world that did not want him there anymore. Covered in the visions that had broken him. He was always teetering on the edge, but this. This was the night his mind truly snapped. There was just so much blood. On his hands, on the floor. All over his clothes, all over James. The sirens sounded like they were so far away. That they were taking so long to arrive.

He closed his eyes, trying to push it all away. Trying to break free of his mind for a minute. Trying to be free of his own pain and agony. Yet the more he pushed, the more his head hurt. The throbbing in the front of his skull, like pressure screaming to be let out. A world so noisy that it didn’t make sense. Whispers, insults and cries of pain. Voices familiar and foreign both, a spirit world of unending noise. He screwed his eyes up tighter, pressing his hands against his ears. Trying to block out all the sound. Trying to block the world out. His wet hands, slippery with James’ blood.

He pounded his closed fists against the side of his head. Punching at his own skull. Begging the world to quiet down. To take it him back to that car in the outback. Travelling across the orange landscape of the Australian nothingness. Travelling to places that were so far detached from the world, places he used to escape from the pain of his loss. He was always running from loss. Always attempting to hide it away. To hide from something that he needed to learn to accept. To hide from something he needed to do better with coping with. Death was a constant, and every time someone died, he found himself just a little more broken inside. A little more detached. A little more resentful of a world that could continually hurt people and refuse to give them anything back. To take and take and never give.

His eyes screwed so tightly shut, he was seeing bursting galaxies of pain behind the nothingness that existed in his closed eyes. The thumping on the side of his head becoming almost rhythmic with the throbbing pain in his skull. The pressure build up refusing to relent. He wanted to scream. He just wanted to be free of his own fucking head for just a day. For just a minute. He just wanted to stop hurting.

“Lexi, please.”

Luna’s voice cut through the haze, the pain, the agony. His eyes snapped open, he found himself, standing at the edge of the Seine River. One step away from throwing himself over the edge. Throwing himself in the river. Hands squeezing against his head, her hand grasping desperately at his arm. Holding him in place.

“Don’t you fucking leave me.”

---

“Once again, I find myself here. At the ending, with only one more step in front of me. Another journey into the depths, another step into the repeating story. Once again, I find myself at crossroads. I win, and I walk away one step closer to being World Heavyweight Champion. The crowning glory, they’ve all determined I’ll never succeed at getting. That was always the belief, right? The belief that Alexander Raven was just never going to be good enough. I can understand it. I can understand the doubts; I did little to ever truly undo the naysayers. I aligned myself with killers. I fought killers. I threw myself at the wall time and time again. Broke my body for the sake of the entertainment of the bloodthirsty masses, the false pretenders and the broken followers. I never gave pause to the doubt. Not truly.”

“So now, standing at the end once more, I have to question. I have to question whether there is truly a fairytale ending. Can I overcome the odds? Can I stand against adversity and walk into the Void, to walk out only one more fight away from taking exactly what I need to take. To being the man across from either the Wolfslair or the Go Gym ingrates once more. Stuck in this ever-repeating insult. Stuck in this ever-repeating situation. Forced to time and time again, tame a wolf, or put a stop to a goer. The most asinine part of it? Now, I’ve got a Lion to deal with, once more. How unfortunate that is, Eddie.”

The moon hangs high in the night sky. The light reflecting off the Seine River. Scene of the Viking siege that resulted in the sacking and plundering of Paris. Alexander Raven is seen sitting alone, legs hanging over the edge of the embankment. Staring down into the waters. A serene look on his face.

“We’ve come to this again, Edward. How lovely it is to see you again. The little Lion, constantly roaring for the attention of the masses. I must admit, ignorance, little lion man. I can’t say I’ve been particularly interested in keeping up with your blithering and blathering. I can’t say I’ve been particularly enraptured by the idea of having to listen to you speak. A problem of mine, I suppose. See, whilst I’m here, physically. Mentally, I’m still a million miles away. Fighting a battle that you couldn’t hope to understand. Attempting to find some semblance of myself once more. Trying to find a way to be who I need to be, once more. To find my own footing.”

“I need to know, Eddie. Have you learnt your own lessons yet? Are you ready to take the steps it requires to be the best, or are you still hamstrung by your own flaws? Dedicated to this path of honour? Dedicated to this feeling of a need to prove. A need to prove the negatives wrong. That the things we all say that they don’t reflect who you truly are? I wonder, little lion man, for I don’t quite think you’re ready. Take it from the man who knows exactly what coming up short feels like. This isn’t your time, Eddie. Not yet. Not now. Not at my expense. Not at the falling of my needs. Do you know the major differences this time, Eddie?”

“I don’t believe in an unseen conspiracy against me. I don’t believe in fate, or destiny. I don’t believe in luck. I don’t believe in happenstance. No, what I believe in, is talent. Skill. Dedication. And raw hunger. What I have in front of me, Eddie. That is what I need. What I have is a guaranteed path to the World Championship. No screaming for attention and demanding that they give to me. No pandering to a couple of elites in hopes that they will give me the match they failed to capitalise upon. No, whilst it may not be Finn at the finish line, the destination does not change. In fact, the purity of the synchronicity is beautiful. Everything truly started for me when I bared my teeth at the Wolfslair. Systematically tearing them down, one by one. I beat Finn, I beat Fenris, I beat Austin James Mercer. Lachlan Kane, Miles Kasey. Every member who stepped to the plate, fell at my feet, and almost in a serendipitous finale. The man at the head, stands with what I so desire.”

Alex continues to stare down into the water. The light steps of people walking in the distance. The hum of a nightlife existing beyond the quiet little sanctum he found himself in. He splays his palms out, resting the backs of his hands on his thighs. Staring down into his own hands.

“Do you know why people will always tell you to be careful, when you step in the ring with me? It’s the unsure nature of it all. As much as they’ll try and deny the work I’ve done, they’ll equally show reverence and understanding when it comes to warning others off. You need only ask Aiden, who you fail to dethrone. Or Finn. Maybe you should ask Peter Vaughn, or even your own little family. Each of them will tell you the same thing. The same thing I tell you, time and time again. It doesn’t matter how much you push back, Eddie. It doesn’t matter how much you fight against it all. You cannot, you will not, ever measure up. This is something you surely must be aware of yourself.”

“You’ve felt before, lion man. You’ve felt it and you’ve seen it. On your best days, you still can’t beat me. You don’t even come close to it. You don’t stand a chance when it is me that stands across from you. You don’t stand a chance, when it is Alexander Raven that you have to defeat, because at the end of the day? I don’t care how unbreakable you think you are. I don’t care how indestructible you feel. How confident, how far you think you’ve advanced. In a game of you and me, the winner is always Alexander Raven. That’s not a message of fate, or destiny. That isn’t a conspiracy. It’s a simple fact of life. Your honour will never measure up to my ability. Your rules and standards will continue to hold you back, and you will continue to suffer and watch as I stand head and shoulders over you.”

“I’ve offered to help you, Lion Boy. I’ve offered to guide you, to a place where you can succeed. I’ve offered time and time again, and you continue to refuse. You continue to hate me. You continue to beleaguer yourself, and wonder why it is, that you cannot stand to the plate. Why in a match of this calibre, you are an afterthought. You’re a hanger-on, who is detracting from what this match truly should have been. The third inning between Alexander Raven and James Huntingon-Hawkes. You are in the way, Eddie. A problem, a thorn in my side. A perpetual issue, and then you have the audacity to reject help. Reject a guidance to being someone. Reject it upon your own moral shortcomings. I’m disappointed in you Eddie. I’m disappointed in what you force yourself to be, when there is so much more you could be. You could have the world, if only you’d accept what it means to be Broken first. To embrace, The Lost.”

Alex curls his fingers in slowly, digging nails into his flesh, a slight hiss of pain. He turns his eyes up from the Seine, looking up towards the night sky. Looking into the night, transfixed upon the spotted carpet of stars that hung above him.

“I wonder, Eddie. I wonder what excuse you’ll use this time. What reasons you’ll drum up to excuse your ineptitude. I wonder what answers you’ll have for your shortcomings. Will it be different this time? Will it be different because you’ll finally accept that your way, is only going to hurt you long term? I want you to know, Eddie. I do what I do out of necessity. Necessity to show the world that they need to learn to stand on their own two feet. Not held back by these shackles of bullshit they put upon themselves. The excusing of failure as a result of your moral grandstanding.”

“I don’t care for it, Eddie. I don’t care for you. I don’t care for any of this. I want you to know, I want you to understand. I do not care for anyone, but Luna and I. For the World Championship that continues to elude me. For a redemption of my own shortcomings, and to put a reminder into the world. A reminder that every time you step into the ring with Alexander Raven, you run the risk of being dog walked. Of letting someone under your skin. Of being thrown off, because you just aren’t able to comprehend the acumen of the man across from you. Every time it is the same with Eddie Lyons. Every time is different with Alexander Raven. That’s the difference between the two of us. You’re always the same. Predictable.”

“You’ll never be good enough, Eddie. Constantly broken and pretending that you’re made of titanium. You’re just another scared kid, in far too deep. Pretending that you’ll ever amount to anything. Look to the sky, Eddie, and know. Know that this is the end for you. Another stop early.”

---

“It’s good to see you again, James. It’s been a while. Things got a little fiery towards the end there, didn’t they? Ego doesn’t deal well with ego, but the three of us. Probably the biggest of the lot when it came to self-aggrandisement. I don’t hold any hostility in my heart for it. You stood beside me, when I wanted nothing more than to simply go away. To be free. I didn’t want to be Roulette champion and then held it for nearly six months. I didn’t want to fight your battles, but I embarrassed Kris Ryans and nearly beat Michael Harris in turn. I did a lot to prove my worth, and in turn, I think we came to a deeper understanding.”

“See for us, it didn’t start with a desire to kill. A desire to maim. There was no grandstanding and bitter embroiled hatred like there was between yourself and Michael Harris. There was no hatred in your soul for me, and in turn my soul for you. No, what there was? A frustration with what was happening around us. A frustration that we were left to pick up the pieces after Harris was ousted. We were left to make something out of the mountainous shit that he left behind. I put my career on the line when we went head-to-head the next time, and then, they jerked me around too. They refused to let me do what I had said. They refused to let me out. They refused to let me leave my contract for another ten fucking months. So I decided to hurt them for trying to keep me in place. A pain that you were willing to help me inflict. You and Kevin. You saw the pain, and you understood. Understood the desire to get one back on this place. To get one back on these bastards that use us as nothing more than oiled up entertainers, who are only worth the money they generate.”

“Respect. That was what it was for us in the end. You won and then defended the World Title at my expense. Respect was the name of the game. A submission only match, one that demanded you learn a new way to fight. One that demanded I try and squeeze the very life out of you to get the respect I so desired. I may not have been the World Champion at the end, but I had done what I needed. I was content, I was happy. I was okay with walking away, and they wouldn’t let me. They wouldn’t let me down what I wanted to do, at threat of legal return. I was held hostage, and they didn’t care.”

No longer sitting on the edge of the Seine, Alex was in a small boat floating on the surface of the river. An electric lantern throwing out a small sphere of light. Just enough to illuminate the bottom of his face. His hands grasping oars as he slowly paddles his way down the river.

“Respect is what I hold for you and will continue to do so. But respect does not change what needs to happen here. Respect does not change the fact that once again, you stand in the path of me becoming World Champion. The scenario, the circumstances, they’ve changed, but the end goal. The end goal remains the same, and the end goal remains going through you. The end goal demands that I change the outcome that was so expected previously. That this time, James Huntington-Hawkes, falls to Alexander Raven. That this time the Broken Messiah, does indeed break the man who is for all intents and purposes, is the final boss. The man who a win over really does move mountains. A man, who if he falls to Alexander Raven, the finale will be seen as a God-given.”

“I’m not a fan of the idea of destiny. I’ve made that clear now. I don’t much care for people who put their faith in a greater power. In the idea of a force beyond our control. I don’t believe in it, James. I don’t think you do either. I don’t think you believe that we are controlled by anything but ourselves. We are ultimately responsible for our actions. For our successes and our failures. I’ve failed, at your hands before James. I’ve failed time over, and I’ve done everything to work my way to a position where I will not fail again. To become the man that mattered. To become the undeniable World Champion of Sin City. I took my leave, I got my head straight, and now. Now I’m here again. In the finals of this tournament for the second year in a row. This time, my wife stands in my corner, stands at my side. This time, there is no outsider scrapping their way to a success. This time, it truly comes down to you and me. The sun and moon of Sin City. Forget Eddie, for in this moment. It comes down to us.”

“So I’ve got a proposition for you, James. We take out the pretender. We take out the man stepping into our world, trying to take away from our moment. We take out the pretty little Lion man, and we leave him a sobbing broken mess. Leave him for the vultures, so that we can actually do what we need to do. So that we can fight the fight we are meant to. To put your tenure up against my renewed vigour. My tenacity. My anger and my hatred. To see if it is truly my time, or. Or if you were right. If they were all right. That this is not for Alexander Raven to do his best. That this was just another rush of adrenaline that piddled out into nothing. I’m tired of being overlooked, James. I know you won’t make that mistake. But at the same time, I need you to understand. I am going to fight tooth and nail.”

A flash of irritation etches its way across his features. A sudden thought rumbling in the depths of his mind. A memory, something bubbling up in his stomach. He stops his slow rowing, and leans forward a little, raw and shallow nicks and cuts all over his face. His hands raw from obsessive cleaning and rubbing. An irritation with his own flesh.

“But maybe, I give you too much. Maybe my mind deludes me into think you’ll have grown up, James. No, because the one thing I truly remember is this. I remember the bitter words. I remember the vitriol that spews from your mouth. I remember when you came to me, asking me to help you. That no one else could do what you needed them to do. You came to me, and I wonder why that is. I wonder, James. I wonder if it was a realisation. A realisation that the longer we do this. The more and more you play this game, the more undone you become. A step slower, a little weaker. Hooked in memories of the past. Hooked into ideas of a time that has passed you by. Fixated upon a time where you felt in control. Felt alive. You came to me, and the world opened up for you again.”

“See the funny thing to me is, that people seemed to think I was the weak one in that little group we had going. That I was the one who was coming up short. But… I beat Kris Ryans. I won the Roulette Championship and defended it the whole time. I didn’t lose to Jayden. You cost me the match. I didn’t fail in the end, but both you and Kevin… did. I was forced into your little bitch fest with Michael Harris. I was constantly fixing your issues and succeeding in stopping my own. But you and Kevin? You seemed to always come up just a bit short. Throwing yourselves into my spotlight and pretending like it was yourselves who were the real winners.”

“Maybe my mind is more clouded than I thought. Maybe my mind is blemished with the way it should have been, and not by the reality of what it was. Delusion is my playground and maybe. Maybe I’ve deluded myself into think you are anything but scum, James. I think, maybe. Maybe I’m wrong in thinking this should be decided by us. Maybe I’m wrong in dismissing Eddie, for the sake of our ego. I think, maybe, you might just be a touch worried James. A fear that you aren’t going to get back to the World Championship, like you expected. A fear that you will come up short. Maybe, James. Maybe this is the final time you get to try and be relevant again. To play your hand and act like it was a thought-out decision. What I came to learn, James? You’re just an insecure little child. One who could never get passed their own fears. Fears of being laughed at. Fears of not being the centre of attention. The fear that you will be forgotten, and that people will stop concerning themselves with you. I don’t need this, but hell. I do really want it, James. I think that’s the difference. You don’t want this, no. You need this at this point. You need to bring yourself back to the light, and I don’t think you truly can do it anymore.”

Alex shakes his head a little, staring up along the Seine. The sound of drums echoing in the distance. A sound reminiscent of war drums. Of the coming dangers. Of the invading. War, pain, agony. A Blast from the Past in some way shape or form. Alex leans forward more, settling in the front of the boat. Reaching a handout to lightly skim along the water.

“I think, James. That you know how much better I am now than I was. I think you know, that when it comes down to it now, you or me. It’ll be me every single time. I’ve seen how you play your games, and though my mind is warped. My memory distorted, there is one thing I’ll never forget. It is how slimy you can be. How even the people you respect should never truly trust you. That you are a failing of sincerity, for you lack the empathy to actually connect with anyone. You are a narcissist, one that relies entirely upon their feeling of superiority. A superiority that is slowly dwindling. A superiority that will be stolen away from you. I’m going to hurt you, James. I’m going to ruin you.”

“I’m going to break you, James. I’m going to break Eddie, and I’m going to break you. So that when you are wandering, one with The Lost. You’ll finally see. You and everyone will finally see what it truly means to follow. To follow the one who will show everyone the reality. That there is no superiority in these Wolves. In these Gyms. In these dens. There is simply blood, flesh and anger. I am blood, flesh and anger. I am the Vikings baring down the Seine River on their way to plunder and ravage. To steal and take everything and leave nothing but destruction. I am the Ragnar of this match, and you both will be made to see it. So prepare James. So prepare, Eddie.”

“This is the end for you both, and my path to finally becoming the One True King, once more.”

And then…

Amsterdam, The Netherlands -
Ziggo Dome
05/11/2025

Backstage under the harsh glare of the overhead fluorescent lighting, Carter sat on a folding chair, cradling his swollen hand as one of the SCW’s hired paramedics examined his fingers closely, the skin scraped off by the blows he had rained down on SC W’s top dawg, Alex Jones. The reigning World Heavyweight Champion. The skin was bruised, and knuckles slightly swollen but not alarmingly so.

“Well,” The older woman said in a heavily accented English for his benefit. “You can still move your fingers so nothing is broken. I would try to avoid swinging at any more walls any time soon.”

She offered him a wisp of a smile, one of which he returned but far more subdued than he might ordinarily. He just nodded, and the only thing he could say was an obligatory and half-hearted “Thank you.” To which she handed him an ice pack and picked up her bag and headed elsewhere that she might be needed for the night’s events.  Carter watched her disappear into the throng of bodies that moved to and fro throughout the backstage hall before he lowered his head and stared at his hand. He could, in fact, still move his fingers but they felt slightly stiff. He can not remember ever hitting anyone the way that he just had Alex.

The sting in his knuckles was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the fire he felt inside, what had started as a kindle of annoyance and was now burning hot like an inferno. The replay of the attack on the Champion was like a highlight reel on a never ending loop inside of his head. It wasn’t just an ambush—it was a message. Carter had crossed a line, and he knew it. But as he flexed his fingers, there was no regret in his eyes; only resolve. For years, he’d played by the rules, smiled for the cameras, waited his turn. Tonight, he’d ripped the spotlight away by force. Whatever punishment came next, it didn’t matter. Carter wasn’t just gunning for the top anymore—he’d just declared war.

“Here.” The deep voice laced with an English accent said as the ice pack was gently taken away and replaced with an actual bag filled with ice and wrapped in a thin towel to prevent too much cold exposure against the skin. So distracted by his own thoughts was Carter that the arrival of his husband and fellow SCW Superstar Miles Kasey gave him a start.

“If you’re anything like me, those ice packs don’t do shit.” Miles sighed as he took a seat on the bench that was right to the left of Carter. Together the two lovebirds sat in a blessed silence, mere words not needing to be spoken between them. Or at least, that was how things seemed initially. Until Miles looked up and turned his head away from watching Janet the Makeup Lady perform her art on one of the Bombshells down the hallway and he looked his loving husband over, closely examining him.

“So, that was quite the performance.” Miles started to speak up. Feeling the need to get this out in the open. “You mind explaining what that was all about?”

“Excuse me?” Carter finally was able to pry his eyes away from the floor and ultimately found his lingering gaze on the man to his side.

“You heard me.” Miles reiterated. “What was up with what just happened out there?”

“Wait…” Carter stared blankly at Miles, the words tumbling from his lips sounding more like one of those Zen riddles than a coherent question. His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, much like a confused puppy. “After everything that bastard's done over the past few weeks… after threatening everyone around me … are you upset with what I did to him?”

Miles looked aside and scoffed audibly, like he couldn’t believe Carter could even question where his loyalties might lay. Finally Miles stated simply, “I’m not upset about what you did – at least, .All I know is that we were watching that arse on the TV backstage with Ally and LJ and next thing I know? I turn my head and you’re gone, and then there you are on the TV. Beating the shit out of him.”

Before Carter could utter so much as a word of protest, Miles held up both hands to forestall any oncoming words and Miles said, “Not that he didn’t deserve it. But… After what Lyons did to you last week, that was a risk, love. A dumb one. I mean if things didn’t go the way that they did…”

“I get it.” Carter said softly, turning away from Miles and he just found himself staring off into a sea of nothingness. Allowing his attention to be swallowed up by the chaotic happenings that were going on backstage between the staff and wrestlers alike to pull this show off.

Miles sighed, “I’m just asking that you warn me next time you go out to do something like that.”

“Warn you.”

“Yeah.” Miles nodded. “We’re married Carter. That means we communicate things like this between us.”

“You mean like how you communicated with me when you went out and attacked Finn to get that title shot?” Carter said quietly, turning his head back to look deeply into Miles’ warm, brown eyes. “Thereby ostracizing yourself from Wolfslair by action and me by association?”

There was something Carter saw deep within his husband’s eyes. Pain? Guilt perhaps? Miles finally yielded, turning slightly away from Carter and he drew in a deep breath, slowly allowing it to escape through his pursed lips.

“They were at our wedding, Miles.” Carter stressed. “They were right there, supporting us on the most important day of our lives.” Carter glanced away and a mirthless laugh escaped from him. “Shit, things were even calming down between Austin and myself.”

“You’re right.” Miles whispered, words uttered so low that Carter wasn’t entirely certain that he had even heard them. Miles added, “Not sure I like where this is coming from, but you’re right.”

“Where what is coming from?” Carter quipped. “My calling you out on your bullshit?”

“Exactly.” Miles smiled, leaning over from the bench to nudge Carter playfully in the arm. “I’m not sure I like that.”

“Hey, husband’s prerogative.” Carter returned the smile to Miles, giving just as well as he got. That was when he felt Miles’s hand grip him gently around his upper arm to get him up off of his feet. He steered Carter around and sat him down beside him with his arm draped comfortably around his shoulder.

“So what’s this really about?” Miles whispered in his ear, trying to keep their conversation relatively private.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Miles answered. “That what just happened wasn't just about getting some pound of flesh on Alex Jones.”

“Like hell it wasn’t!” Carter started to protest and Miles quickly back pedaled for a change of words.

“Alright, it was.” Miles admitted. “Or, at least a part of it was. But there's more than just Alex going on in here.” He tapped his index finger gently on Carter’s head. “Something else is going on in there, isn't there?”

Carter met Miles’s gaze, those familiar eyes filled with a quiet intensity but also the gentle caring that he had come to know and cherish these past few years. The question hung in the air between them, delicate and heavy all at once. Carter opened his mouth, then closed it again, the words refusing to come.

“I don’t know.” He finally said, turning to look away, finding himself locking eyes with a reflection of himself, the glass door that led to inner offices of the Ziggo Dome, Carter noting for perhaps the first time his own gaze could be somewhat disconcerting. He shrugged his slim buttoned shoulders and said in what was ultimately an almost pitiful tone of voice to Miles's ears, “I just don't know.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything?” Muscled arm around his shoulder offering a comforting, reassuring squeeze. He leaned in and emphasized, “Right?”

“I know.” He found himself smiling despite his dower mood. “But it's hard to talk about your problems when you don't exactly know what the problem is.”

Carter felt Miles's hand slip from his shoulder and almost immediately regretted the loss of that familiar touch. Miles leaned back against the wall in the hallway, running the palms of both hands down along his thighs. If there was anything miles could be counted on, it was taking somebody else's pain and making it his own. It was wanting to solve the problems of those around him, most especially his husband. He hated seeing Carter wallowing in a state of self-doubt, threatening to all but drown himself beneath the waves. Protective hubby mode had been activated.

“Maybe…” Miles started to speak, his words meant for Carter although he was not directing them at anyone in particular. “I think…that maybe Alex is getting into your head a little bit more than you want to admit?”

But all Carter could do to that accusation was scoff and turn his head away, pretending he either did not hear the words Miles had just spoken or that he completely misinterpreted the situation.

“Hey.” Miles spoke up once again, trying to both diffuse the situation as well as support his husband as he was lawfully wedded to do so. “I've known Alex longer than you have. I know he can get into the mines of even the strongest men. And you are one of the strongest I know.”

“One of?” Carter questioned almost comically, and got a laugh from his husband in the process. Miles said, “See? There’s that sass and confidence I fell in love with! Don't let him get you babe. You've got this.”

“Oh you have to say that.” Carter half laughed, looking away. “I think it was somewhere in our marriage vows. Love, honor, and stroke each other's… egos.”

Miles snorted, then quickly covered his nose and mouth with his hand his eyes quickly flicking back and forth from left to right to see if anyone in attendance perhaps had noticed. He could always count on Carter for having at least one dirty thought per conversation.

Miles finally turned back to him and his heart absolutely ached at seeing those slumped shoulders and the downcast expression. Like a puppy that had either been kicked one too many times or was at least awaiting that inevitable kick that it had come to expect.

“Maybe you could talk to Doctor Delacore?” He offered as a suggestion, but Carter shook his head no almost immediately. Carter said, “I can't just keep going to her every time I have a mental crisis.”

Now it was Miles's turn to glance away, something of a blank expression on his face until he finally spoke aloud, “Remind me again what she does for a living?”

Carter turned his head to him straight away and shook it, the corners of his lips quivering upright. “Don't get smart with me.” Earning for himself, his husband's eyes tightly closed and his pearly whites showing in a beaming smile as his shoulders shook. A self-satisfied and Hardy chuckle on Miles's part.

Finally calming himself, Miles found his husband casually leaning against him. A token of the support they offered one another. Both figuratively as well as literally.

Miles finally said, “Well, you need somebody to talk to. Somebody impartial. Obviously that's not me because I'm going to say you're perfect just the you are. And you don't want to talk to Doctor Delacore so I guess you're just going to have to talk to someone in the family “

“Miles, we are on tour.” Carter oh so helpfully pointed out. “We're not leaving for the states in the middle of it just so I can bitch and moan to my mother or Grams.”

Miles shook his head and said, “I wasn't actually thinking of them this time.”

Carter looked up and frowned, “Then who?”

London, England
Twenty-four hours and 217 miles later

The small, Victorian terraced house stood quietly on a narrow, cobbled street. The houses on either side were close enough together to offer the familiarity of one’s neighbors even if it did come with a relative lack of true privacy. Ivy crept lazily up one side, curling around the edges of the sash windows. The front yard of the one house in particular opening onto a modest but no less impressive front garden, the scented beacon featuring nothing less than an array of roses, daffodils, bluebells, tulips, and, of course, a personal favorite for the matriarch in this given household - Calla lilies.

The turquoise Vauxhall Insignia slowed to a crawl just outside of this one house in particular, the engine shutting off quietly. Soon after, the front driver’s side door opened up and Miles Kasey set foot out onto the road, in front of the house his family in the UK called home. But of course, he did not come alone. As opposite him, the passenger door opened and out stepped his so-called “better half” in Carter. Someone inside of the house must have noticed or been watching for their arrival, as the front door opened and there stood the matriarch of the Kasey family, Miles’s and Brianna’s mom - and Carter’s mother-in-law, Mora Kasey.

From where the two young men stood on the street, they could see the glow in Mora’s eyes at her son and son-in-law coming home, even if for a short time. That was the moment Carter understood where Miles was coming from in regards to family.

As it would turn out, he had more to support him now than he realized.

---

While the rest of the world tended to believe that the weather in London was always rainy with gray clouds and nary a blue filled sky to be seen, the truth was much more complicated. London, perhaps more than any other location around the globe, possessed weather that was completely unpredictable. The main reason being that it was basically an island caught between continental Europe and the Atlantic Ocean. They had seasonal weather, much like everyone else. They had sunshine and heat waves, snow and cold alike. People just tended to assume the worst in regards to the wet, rainy weather.

Of course, in this case those assumptions just so happened to prove true. It was mid afternoon in London, the sky had a gray, overcast quality behind it and a light rain had deftly escaped from the clouds overhead, the weather forecast threatening heavier rainfall later. But for now? A relatively short distance from the Tower bridge, it was perfect.

Carter sat quietly on the edge of the Girl With a Dolphin fountain, the soft splash of the fountain's water mingling with the telltale patter of the light rainfall on the pavement. Carter glanced back over his shoulder and watched the water arc around the dolphin’s sculpted form, letting the rhythm of the fountain steady his thoughts. Something he badly needed at the time. More so than he cared to admit.

He finally turned his head back away from the fountain and craned his neck back, his face directed toward the heavens with his eyes closed, the drizzle of the rain streaking down his features.

“I know. A lot of people have been expecting me to already be in Paris,  and I will be. But for personal reasons I had to take a slight detour and get my head on straight. After all, we wouldn't want me giving Alex Jones less than my absolute best.”

Carter lowered his head from the sky and opened his eyes, staring straight ahead of the camera.

“Would we?”

“Now, I seem to recall Alex Jones saying something about how I don't deserve this opportunity? That's real cute - and also a touch hypocritical - coming from a man such as yourself. I went through six other men in the Elimination Chamber to earn this opportunity. Six men, who are my dad, with each and every one capable of taking you out and taking the World Heavyweight Championship away from you. No granted, I didn't win the Chamber the way that I would have wanted to, thanks to Vincent Lyons, but here we are! So you and I are just going to have to agree to disagree. And as far as being deserving?”

Carter scoffed

“Your opportunities at the World Heavyweight Championship should have ended when you rang Finn Whelan’s bell with that steel chair. You never should have been given that one on one rematch. If anything? You should have been forced to step inside the Elimination Chamber along with Finn just like the Bombshells did. Which tells me that women like Kayla Richards and Andrea Hernandez are more of a man than you are. And yet you still could get the job done on your own.  You had to turn winning into a group project because you weren't man enough to do what others were unable to do, and that's beat Finn Whelan clean.”

Carter shrugged.

“But I guess that just proves that teamwork really does make the dream work - especially when that dream is not to rely on your own God given abilities but instead on some cheap hoe who's so frigid that the furnace kicks on every time she spreads her legs!”

Carter leaned over at the waist, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together.

“I know that I'm the underdog going into this match. Trust me, I have an entire world of wrestling fans telling me the fact. My opponent? He just so happens to be the loudest out of all of them. This match, I've heard people describe as old school versus new school. And I don't think I have to tell you which one Alex represents and which one I do. I will be the first to admit that Alex Jones is the veteran of this match. He's got a leg up on me in just about every way that the armchair experts that are predicting he's going to retain can attest. And that's fine. Everybody's entitled to their opinions. And I've been listening to them with an open mind because here's the thing.”

Carter motioned with a wave of his fingers for the camera to move closer and once it did so, he continued.

“I've been listening because it's going to make the end result even sweeter when I prove them wrong, and end Alex Jones's third championship reign at only fifty seven days. That's going to sting, isn't it Alex? I mean, after all we just came from a champion - I tried and true champion - who held the title for a record-breaking four hundred and seven days. Quite the contrast, wouldn't you say? Go from a champion that we could be proud of to one whose title reign is going to end up being so short that a TikTok video will feel like an epic saga compared to it. Fun fact! Your three championship reigns combined will be barely half of Finn's when all is said and done!”

“I mean, seriously Alex! What exactly have you done to be proud since winning that championship? And I don't mean  those delusions of grandeur that you keep popping off about every time you can get your face into a camera. What have you done besides threaten my loved ones in some feeble attempt to get me to back off from this match?”

Carter nodded seriously.

“Yeah. Don't think I don't see through your bullshit for what it really is. The minute I won the Chamber and you beat Whelan, I had you. I was in your head. People keep coming to me and asking me if I'm nervous about this title shot against you. They love to throw it in my face about how many opportunities I've had at grasping the brass spring, only to fall off the damn horse in the process.  and yes, I'll be the first to admit that my career in SCW has been taking longer to get off the ground than I would have hoped. But here's the thing…”

“I'm not a quitter. I'm young. I'm patient. And I got all the time in the world to sit back and watch you sweat it out. Because you can't say the same thing, can you? Trust me, I've heard The whispers around the locker rooms. I've heard the rumors about how your in-ring career can't last much longer. Not with that bad back of yours especially!”

Carter turned briefly toward the camera and winked, clucking his tongue.

“By the way, Finn Whelan? Thanks for that. Alex Jones has a target on his back, literally, and you just handed me a loaded weapon!”

“And this is where things get interesting because it has a clash of two styles, too theoretical outcomes. Alex Jones is hurt, his time is limited and there is no denying the fact. But they say that a wounded animal is the most dangerous. Almost as dangerous as an animal that is protecting its kin. And that's the exact position that Alex put me in. And he has only himself to thank for that. Alex, you thought by threatening my family, by going out of your way to hurt LJ, that it would get me to, how did you phrase it? Oh yeah!”

He “air quotes”.

“‘Fall in line’ I believe for the words you used. And by fall in line, I'm assuming you meant for me to back off and either not accept this match or simply job out. And you almost got your way last week, didn't you? Didn't you!? You were standing right there when Vincent Lyons took my head off with that chair! And I bet you were waiting with bated breath, hoping beyond measure that I wouldn't be cleared for this match against you! You were probably hoping that you would get a night off or that they just tossed some poor schlep a bone and give you someone else, somebody that you would believe in your delusional state to be a working holiday.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint. Because you must have been shitting yourself when I showed up and the match was still on! You can look everywhere for a place to hide, probably safest under Aaron's skirt, but this is one fight that you're not going to be able to avoid for very long. And that's exactly what it's going to be. I'm no fool. I know what you're capable of now, and that was your mistake. You showed your hand against Finn. You showed against my brother-in-law the depths you were willing to sink. You should have waited. You  could have played nice, lulled me in with some false sense of security and boom!”

He snapped his fingers.

“Do to me what you did to Finn and everything in your fantasy world would be all hunky dory. That would have been the smart thing, but I imagine that at your advanced age, it couldn't be helped. you just thought you could keep the same, tired act going for whatever short time is left in your career and people would continue to fall for it. People would watch your levels of depravity to succeed, only to circle around and think oh he wouldn't do that to me only to fall victim time and again.”

“I'm no expert, Alex. I'm not the veteran of as many ring wars as you are. But I've still been around the block a time or two. And more importantly? I have people in my corner that actually give a damn about me and don't see me as some sort of needle dick meal ticket. They point out the flaws in your logic if I don't see them. They show me where that first crack showed up in your facade and where to apply the pressure.”

“Your isolation, your arrogance, is your undoing. And what you did to Finn? I would consider it poetic justice to do the exact same thing to you.”

Carter slowly stood up and turned around to face the fountain, tucking his hands deep into his pockets as the rain started to come down even harder.

“For my relatively few short years in this business, and for all my rookie mistakes, there is one universal truth that has been dealt to me since I first started training to live out my dreams inside of the ring. Every champion must one day become a former champion. The torch gets passed. Some champions do so gladly, while others had to be dragged away from the spotlight kicking and screaming.”

Carter turned back around and away from the fountain.

“I can't wait to see which one you are going to be Alex. Although the past few months is any indication, I think you already gave away that secret as well.”

Carter shrugged with indifference and gave a sympathetic look toward the camera before turning and walking off camera, his body blending in with the tourists and locals alike.