Aired - May 15, 2026
(Black screen. The sound of a heavy book opening.)
(A candle ignites. Ink creeps across parchment like it’s alive.)
(A choir hums low. A single bell tolls—slower this time.)
Voice-over (smooth, ominous):
“Once upon a time… they told you monsters weren’t real.”
(beat)
“They were wrong.”
(The ink burns darker now—spreading like rot across the page.)
“Here… they don’t hide.”
“They reign.”
(The words sear into the screen like a cursed fairytale title card.)
NPCW: DARK FABLE
Voice-over:
“This is the MYTHIC Division.”
“Welcome… to DARK FABLE.”
SIGNATURE MONTAGE (Q2)
1) Frankenstein’s Monster — Mythic Crown Champion
(Lightning rends the sky. Thunder shakes the frame.)
Mordred swings with fury—desperation made flesh.
The Monster does not fall.
He absorbs. Endures. Advances.
A hand clamps around Mordred—lifting him as if he weighs nothing.
A devastating slam. The ring buckles.
Silence—then impact echoes like judgment.
The Monster stands over him. Crown claimed. Not won—taken.
2) The Enforcers — Kong & Ogre
(Steel chains drag across stone. Heavy footsteps echo.)
Kong crushes a man into the mat with raw force—no finesse, only inevitability.
Ogre follows—lifting, driving, ending.
Tag precision without mercy.
Two bodies fall.
Two monsters stand.
Gold raised—not in celebration… but in ownership.
3) King Arthur
(A sword is driven into the ground. The camera circles.)
Arthur rises from one knee—battle-worn, unbroken.
A strike dodged. A counter delivered clean.
Another opponent falls. Then another.
He does not roar.
He does not boast.
He simply stands…
The last one left.
4) Takuma Ryujin
(A dragon’s silhouette coils through smoke.)
Takuma explodes forward—precision wrapped in violence.
A brutal strike combination snaps his opponent backward.
Then—final impact. Sudden. Absolute.
He kneels for a moment… not in weakness—
But in control.
5) Morgana Le Faye
(Dark mist curls across the screen.)
Her opponent charges.
Morgana does not move—until it’s already over.
A twist. A trap. A cruel, inevitable finish.
She rises slowly, eyes cold.
This was never a match.
It was a lesson.
6) Blonde Bombshells — Alice & Dorothy
(Bright light flickers… then distorts.)
Alice spins through an opponent—fluid, sharp.
Dorothy follows—precise, perfectly timed.
Double-team execution—clean, ruthless, synchronized.
They stand side by side.
Not innocence.
Not nostalgia.
Something sharper… wearing a familiar face.
7) Robin Hood
(An arrow cuts across the screen—transitioning the shot.)
Robin slips a strike by inches.
Counters instantly—clean, efficient.
Another opponent falls to precision, not power.
He looks into the hard cam—calm, defiant.
A thief.
A hero.
A problem.
8) Monsters of Myth — Hydra Veyne, Medussa Nemesis, Serpenta Veyne
(A low hiss fills the air. Multiple shadows move at once.)
Hydra overwhelms—relentless, many-headed offense.
Medussa strikes—cold, calculated, finishing with venom.
Serpenta coils and crushes—tight, suffocating control.
Three forces. One presence.
They do not fight for victory.
They consume it.
(The choir rises. War drums thunder beneath it.)
(The arena appears—lit like a cathedral built for conflict.)
Voice-over:
“This isn’t the North.”
“This isn’t the light.”
(beat)
“In DARK FABLE… the story doesn’t end happily.”
(The music drops—just the bell now.)
“It ends… with a winner.”
(beat—longer than before)
“And now… the winners are changing the story.”
“This… is DARK FABLE.”
Built to the locked Segment 2 – Crowd & Welcome structure, where Julian grounds the audience and Brick answers with violence-first color.
SEGMENT 2 — CROWD & WELCOME
The camera rises from the blackened stone entrance tunnel into the full expanse of Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.
The arena is alive.
Not bright.
Not celebratory.
Alive.
Torch columns burn along the upper balconies. Gold light flickers over banners bearing cracked crowns, crossed blades, dragons, forests, masks, and storm clouds. The crowd is packed shoulder to shoulder, their voices rolling through the building like distant thunder trapped beneath a castle roof.
A wide shot sweeps across the lower bowl.
One cluster of fans holds a painted sailcloth sign that reads:
SINBAD STILL SAILS
Another sign, stitched in blue and gold, shows Sinbad standing against a black wave with three shadows behind him: Sandman, Sir Galahad, and the Eternal Flame itself.
The chant begins low.
“SIN-BAD!”
Then louder.
“SIN-BAD!”
Then the whole side of the Coliseum joins in.
“SIN-BAD! SIN-BAD! SIN-BAD!”
A young fan near the barricade wears a homemade Eternal Flame Title belt over one shoulder and a red sash across his chest like a sea captain preparing for war.
The camera cuts to another section.
A row of Sherwood green shirts fills the frame.
Each shirt bears the same phrase:
SCARLETT DOESN’T RUN
Fans raise foam arrows, red scarves, and hand-painted shields marked with the Merry Band crest. One sign reads:
WILL SCARLETT — BLOOD ON THE BOOTS, HONOR IN THE FIGHT
Another reads:
BRUTE BAILIFF COLLECTS DEBTS
WILL COLLECTS RECEIPTS
The crowd pounds the barricade.
“WILL! WILL! WILL!”
The chant has a sharper edge than Sinbad’s.
Less admiration.
More warning.
The shot shifts again.
A pocket of fans stands in disciplined silence.
Black-and-crimson banners hang from their hands.
One reads:
TAKUMA RYUJIN — THE DRAGON DOES NOT BOW
Another shows a painted dragon coiled around a broken oni mask.
Several fans wear sleeveless black hoodies with a crimson dragon crest over the heart. They do not chant immediately. They clap once. Then again. Then again.
A deliberate rhythm.
Takuma’s rhythm.
Across from them, a smaller group answers with a banner showing blue flame curling around a blade:
VEIL ABOVE VIOLENCE
The camera cuts to the upper concourse.
A strange, colorful pocket of support breaks through the darkness.
Fans hold playing-card signs, crooked teacup drawings, and white rabbit masks.
One sign reads:
ALICE WALKED THROUGH MADNESS AND KEPT WALKING
Another, written in uneven Wonderland lettering:
MORGANA MAY CURSE THE PATH
ALICE CHOOSES THE DOOR
A child in a blue dress and black boots holds up a sign shaped like a key:
OPEN THE WRONG DOOR, MORGANA
The crowd gives a bright, defiant chant.
“AL-ICE! AL-ICE! AL-ICE!”
The sound is different.
Not as heavy.
Not as ancient.
But stubborn.
The camera finds another section.
Brown-and-gold shirts.
Candy cane stripes crossed out with black slashes.
Gingerbread-shaped signs held like war standards.
One reads:
HANSEL FOUND THE OVEN
NOW HE FINDS THE FIGHT
Another:
NO CRUMBS LEFT BEHIND
A third, rougher and louder:
CHESHIRE CAT SMILES
HANSEL SWINGS
The fans stomp their feet.
“HAN-SEL! HAN-SEL! HAN-SEL!”
A hard camera shot takes in the entire Coliseum.
Every chant bleeds into the next.
Sinbad.
Will.
Takuma.
Alice.
Hansel.
All of them carried by different corners of the same dark cathedral.
The camera settles on the commentary desk.
Julian Ward sits composed in a dark charcoal suit, hands folded over his notes. Brick Brody leans back beside him, arms crossed, jaw set, the kind of man who looks at a roaring crowd and wonders who is willing to bleed first.
Julian Ward: “Welcome back to Dark Fable, live from Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum. The torches are lit, the banners have been raised, and this audience understands what kind of night waits before them. This is not simply a card of matches. This is a night of answers, consequences, and challenges that may leave several paths permanently altered.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the part I like, Julian. Permanently altered. You don’t come into this place looking for comfort. You come in here because somebody owes somebody pain, and tonight a lot of accounts are coming due.”
Julian Ward: “Last week left deep marks across the Mythic Division. We saw the pressure around the Eternal Flame Title continue to intensify. Sinbad survived as champion, but survival has invited more danger, not less. Sandman remains a presence that does not forgive. Sir Galahad remains a former champion with unfinished conviction. Tonight, those three collide for the Eternal Flame Title in a Triple Threat Match.”
Brick Brody: “And that is a beautiful kind of ugly. Sinbad doesn’t have to get pinned to lose that title. Sandman doesn’t have to wait his turn. Galahad doesn’t need permission from anybody’s moral code. Three men, one prize, no clean road through it. That belt might leave tonight with the man who suffers least, not the man who deserves most.”
Julian Ward: “The crowd here tonight has rallied behind Sinbad, and with reason. He has become one of the division’s defining symbols of resilience. But a triple threat does not reward symbolism. It rewards timing, ruthlessness, and the ability to recognize one opening before two enemies close it.”
Brick Brody: “Sinbad’s got heart. Nobody questions that. But heart gets you cheered. It does not always get you out of the building with gold. Sandman will drag him into nightmares if he can. Galahad will drag him into judgment if he can. Sinbad better bring more than courage. He better bring a weapon, even if that weapon is just knowing when to let the other two tear each other apart.”
The camera cuts back to the fans chanting for Sinbad. A group in the lower bowl raises blue-and-gold scarves in unison.
Julian Ward: “And before we arrive at that main event, the road will begin with Hansel facing the Cheshire Cat. Hansel has drawn strong support tonight from fans who see a fighter shaped by survival. The Cheshire Cat, however, is not merely an opponent. He is uncertainty made physical.”
Brick Brody: “Hansel better not chase the smile. That’s how the Cat gets you. You swing at the grin, you miss the claws. Hansel is tough, but toughness does not matter if you’re punching fog.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel’s supporters seem to believe he can meet confusion with force.”
Brick Brody: “That can work. Sometimes you don’t solve a riddle. Sometimes you kick it in the ribs until it stops asking questions.”
The crowd noise swells as the camera catches a “NO CRUMBS LEFT BEHIND” sign.
Julian Ward: “We will also see Morgana Le Faye face Alice. That match carries a fascinating contrast. Morgana brings ancient sorcery, control, and malice sharpened by ambition. Alice brings instinct, refusal, and the strange courage of someone who has already walked through madness and come out changed.”
Brick Brody: “Morgana is not coming to test Alice. She is coming to make an example out of her. That is what dangerous people do to hopeful people, Julian. They don’t argue with hope. They break it in public.”
Julian Ward: “And yet this crowd is not dismissing Alice’s chances.”
Brick Brody: “Crowds love defiance. That doesn’t mean defiance survives. But I’ll say this for Alice — she does not seem to understand when she is supposed to be afraid. That can make a person reckless. It can also make them dangerous.”
The camera finds the Wonderland-themed pocket of fans. One holds the key-shaped sign high above the aisle.
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett steps into a very different kind of danger tonight when he faces the Brute Bailiff. The King’s Collectors have made their presence felt through force, intimidation, and debt paid in bruises. Will Scarlett has never been known to lower his eyes to men who mistake authority for honor.”
Brick Brody: “Will Scarlett has a mouth, a temper, and a backbone. That is a great combination if you want fans. It is a terrible combination if the Brute Bailiff gets his hands on you. The Bailiff does not care about clever lines or Sherwood pride. He collects. That is all.”
Julian Ward: “This crowd appears prepared to stand with Will.”
Brick Brody: “Good. They can chant from the seats. He has to stand across from the Bailiff. Big difference.”
The camera cuts to the Sherwood shirts. The “SCARLETT DOESN’T RUN” sign fills the screen.
Julian Ward: “Maid Marion will also be in action tonight against Athena. Marion continues to represent the heart and discipline of the Merry Band, but Athena brings the cold precision of warcraft. That match could be decided by whether Marion can keep it human, or whether Athena turns it into a battlefield.”
Brick Brody: “Athena thinks in angles. Marion fights with cause. Cause is noble. Angles win fights. Marion better not come in thinking courage blocks a spear.”
Julian Ward: “And in our fifth match, Frankenstein’s Monster faces Lion. The Mythic Crown Champion stands as one of the most imposing figures in NPCW, and every match he takes now casts a shadow toward The Long Night, where King Arthur waits.”
Brick Brody: “Lion’s got courage. Wonderful. Put it on the tombstone. Frankenstein’s Monster is not impressed by courage. He’s stitched out of death, power, and whatever rotten genius Dr. Frankenstein keeps feeding into him. If Lion wants to prove something tonight, he better prove it early before the Monster decides the lesson is over.”
Julian Ward: “King Arthur will surely be watching. Every movement from Frankenstein’s Monster matters now. Every victory becomes a message. Every act of destruction becomes a warning.”
Brick Brody: “And Arthur better read that warning closely. Crowns are heavy, Julian. Mythic Crowns are heavier. Frankenstein’s Monster is walking around with one like it belongs on his head by law.”
The camera briefly catches a dark cluster of fans holding signs for Takuma Ryujin. The clapping rhythm returns, steady and ominous.
Julian Ward: “There is also strong support in this building tonight for Takuma Ryujin, even though he is not listed for competition. That tells you something about the force of his presence in this division. The House of the Dragon’s Veil continues to cast a long shadow, and Takuma remains one of its most disciplined and dangerous warriors.”
Brick Brody: “That is not fan support. That is recognition. Big difference. People cheer some wrestlers because they like them. They react to Takuma because they know what happens when that man walks into a fight. He doesn’t waste motion. He doesn’t waste pain. He aims it.”
Julian Ward: “And with the Blood Oni Syndicate still looming around every corridor of this division, Takuma’s name carries more than admiration. It carries expectation.”
Brick Brody: “Expectation gets people hurt. But Takuma? He seems built for that.”
The camera returns to Julian and Brick. Behind them, the crowd continues to ripple with chants from different sections, never quite settling into one voice.
Julian Ward: “So tonight, the Coliseum holds six trials. Hansel and the Cheshire Cat begin the night. Morgana Le Faye and Alice step into a collision of sorcery and defiance. Will Scarlett meets the Brute Bailiff. Maid Marion faces Athena. Frankenstein’s Monster stands across from Lion. And then, in our main event, the Eternal Flame Title is defended in a Triple Threat Match: champion Sinbad against Sandman and Sir Galahad.”
Brick Brody: “That is not a lineup. That is a list of people who might leave different than they came in. Hansel might get lost. Alice might get cursed. Will Scarlett might get collected. Marion might get outmaneuvered. Lion might get flattened. And Sinbad might lose everything without even being beaten. That’s Dark Fable. That’s the point.”
Julian Ward: “Every path tonight leads toward consequence. Every cheer in this building carries the weight of fear behind it. These people are not simply waiting to see who wins. They are waiting to see what victory costs.”
Brick Brody: “And I’m waiting to see who’s willing to pay it.”
The torches flare across the entranceway.
The crowd noise rises again.
The camera turns toward the ring, where the canvas waits under a cold white spotlight.
The first trial is near.
The camera returns from the commentary desk to the ring.
The canvas sits beneath a hard white spotlight.
Around it, Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum murmurs like a courtroom waiting for sentence.
Louie Linville stands centered in the ring, shoulders squared, microphone held with ceremonial stillness.
The bell has not yet sounded.
The first trial of the night waits.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is scheduled for one fall.”
The crowd rises into a low roar.
A crooked laugh echoes through the arena.
Not loud.
Not sudden.
Everywhere at once.
Purple smoke curls from beneath the entrance arch. It does not roll outward like fog. It twists. It bends. It seems to choose where it wants to go.
A pair of glowing eyes appears in the dark.
Then a grin.
The Cheshire Cat steps through the smoke with unnerving ease, his movements loose and elastic, as though gravity has only a partial claim on him. His expression never settles into one emotion for long. Amusement. Hunger. Boredom. Cruelty. All flicker across his face like candlelight across broken glass.
Behind him comes the Mad Hatter.
The Hatter claps politely to no rhythm anyone else can hear. His hat is tilted. His eyes are bright with nonsense and malice. He bows to no one, then bows again to someone who is not there.
The Coliseum answers with boos, uneasy laughter, and a few startled cheers from those who do not yet understand the danger.
Julian Ward: “The Cheshire Cat is not simply elusive. He is destabilizing. Opponents do not merely fight him. They attempt to define him long enough to survive him.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a nice way of saying he gets in your head, rakes your eyes, bends your arm, and leaves you wondering which way the floor went. And with the Mad Hatter out here, Hansel’s not walking into a match. He’s walking into a trap wearing a smile.”
Cheshire Cat slides under the bottom rope, then lounges across the middle turnbuckle as if the ring has been prepared for his amusement alone.
Mad Hatter remains at ringside, whispering to the ring post.
The lights dim.
Then a harder sound cuts through the arena.
Boots on stone.
A low drumbeat.
The crowd shifts immediately.
No carnival unease now.
A cheer rises from the lower bowl.
Hansel walks out from the entranceway.
No ornament.
No theatrics.
Brown-and-gold gear. Taped fists. A face marked not by innocence, but by the hard survival of someone who remembers the oven and kept moving forward.
He pauses at the top of the ramp and looks at the ring.
Cheshire Cat grins wider.
Mad Hatter waves.
Hansel does not wave back.
The crowd begins to stomp.
“HAN-SEL! HAN-SEL! HAN-SEL!”
Hansel walks with purpose, eyes locked forward, refusing to be drawn into the strange little performances at ringside.
Julian Ward: “Hansel enters with the support of this crowd, but also with a burden. He has faced terror before. Tonight, he faces confusion dressed as terror.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Confusion still has bones if you catch it right. Hansel better forget the riddles, forget the grin, and hit whatever part of the Cat stays still long enough to break.”
Hansel climbs the steps, wipes his boots on the apron, and enters between the ropes.
He does not take his eyes off Cheshire Cat.
Louie Linville steps forward.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first… accompanied to the ring by the Mad Hatter… from the crooked corridors of Wonderland… weighing tonight as much as he wishes to be weighed… he is the grin in the dark, the question without answer… CHESHIRE CAT!”
Cheshire Cat slowly raises both arms.
Mad Hatter applauds wildly from the floor.
Louie Linville: “And his opponent… from the path where fear was first learned and survival was first chosen… he is the boy who left the crumbs behind and carried the fire forward… HANSEL!”
The crowd cheers sharply.
Hansel lifts one taped fist.
“Honest” Abe checks both competitors.
Mad Hatter leans over the apron, whispering something to Abe.
Abe points him back down to the floor.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Hansel wastes no time. He charges out of the corner and catches Cheshire Cat clean with a flying forearm smash, driving through the chest before the Cat can settle into rhythm.”
Brick Brody: “That is exactly how you fight a freak who wants to make the room spin. You hit him before he starts painting doors on the wall.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat tried to slip away from the impact, but Hansel cut the distance too quickly. The first meaningful strike belongs to Hansel.”
Brick Brody: “And look at the Cat now. Still smiling, but that smile’s got a bruise behind it.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat answers immediately. He slides behind Hansel, hooks the arm, and clamps in a rear naked choke. That transition was sudden and precise.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the danger. One second he’s getting rocked, next second he’s on your back squeezing your lights down. Hansel better not panic.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel reaches for the hands, trying to pry the grip loose, but Cheshire Cat has the hold sunk in tight near the center of the ring.”
Brick Brody: “The Cat doesn’t need to overpower him. He just needs to make Hansel’s body betray him one breath at a time.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Hansel gets separation and brings Cheshire Cat down into a front facelock, trying to impose control and slow the pace.”
Brick Brody: “Smart. Tie up the head, control the spine, make the strange little goblin carry your weight.”
Julian Ward: “But Cheshire Cat creates space and fires back with a shotgun front dropkick. Hansel absorbs the blow, but it knocks him back into the ropes.”
Brick Brody: “That Cat kicks like a door blowing open in a storm. Hansel wants a fight. Cheshire Cat wants angles. Right now, both men are getting pieces of what they want.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Mad Hatter is already inserting himself. He steps near the apron and begins reciting some kind of strange poem directly at ‘Honest’ Abe.”
Brick Brody: “Listen to that lunatic. I don’t know if he’s distracting the referee or casting a tax audit.”
Julian Ward: “Abe turns toward the Hatter, and that moment of confusion stalls Hansel’s advance. Cheshire Cat uses the opening to reset.”
Brick Brody: “That is why managers matter. You don’t always need to throw a punch. Sometimes you just make the official look the wrong way while your man catches his breath.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Both wrestlers hesitate through a pair of defensive exchanges, neither man fully committing. Then Hansel steps in with a forearm smash.”
Brick Brody: “Good heavy shot. Hansel’s not being fancy. He’s making contact, and contact ruins tricks.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat responds with a Yoshi Tonic, rolling Hansel through with remarkable speed. That almost turned Hansel’s aggression against him.”
Brick Brody: “That was nasty. Hansel hits like a hammer, Cat moves like smoke with teeth. That combination is going to make this ugly fast.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat finds another opening and connects with a shotgun front dropkick. Hansel tried to brace, but the impact caught him high.”
Brick Brody: “The Cat keeps throwing both feet through Hansel’s chest. Do that enough, and even a tough man starts breathing like a cracked bellows.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel backs into the corner now, blinking through the pressure. Cheshire Cat is beginning to establish that sudden burst offense.”
Brick Brody: “And the worst part is the grin never leaves. It’s hard to punch confidence out of somebody who enjoys getting chased.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Hansel explodes out with a belly-to-belly suplex, using that compact strength to throw Cheshire Cat hard onto the canvas.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. No riddles in that. Grab him, launch him, let the floor answer the question.”
Julian Ward: “But Cheshire Cat rolls through the pain and attacks the arm with a Fujiwara armbar attempt. He is targeting limbs now, trying to limit Hansel’s power base.”
Brick Brody: “That’s cruel, and I respect it. Hansel throws with the arms and shoulders. You take those away, suddenly the woodsman can’t swing the axe.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “A strange pause here. Both men stall defensively, neither able to secure clean offense. Hansel steps in, but there is no full connection on the attempted exchange.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the Cat’s kind of minute. Nothing clean. Nothing satisfying. Make the other guy waste motion and get frustrated.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat escapes without major damage, and Hansel looks annoyed for the first time tonight.”
Brick Brody: “Annoyed gets dangerous if he controls it. Annoyed gets stupid if the Cat keeps baiting him.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Hansel regathers and catches Cheshire Cat with a dropkick. Clean impact to the upper body, and the Cat goes down.”
Brick Brody: “That was direct. Hansel saw the target and put both boots through it.”
Julian Ward: “The crowd responds strongly. They want Hansel to keep the match physical and prevent Cheshire Cat from turning this into misdirection.”
Brick Brody: “The crowd is right for once. Every second this gets weird favors Wonderland.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Hansel drives Cheshire Cat down with a spine crusher. Heavy impact near center ring.”
Brick Brody: “That’ll make the smile skip a beat. You crush the spine, you crush the dance.”
Julian Ward: “But Cheshire Cat rolls out and comes flying back with a suicide dive. Hansel spills to the outside, and ‘Honest’ Abe begins the count.”
Brick Brody: “That Cat just threw himself like a bad decision through the ropes.”
Julian Ward: “The count reaches nine, but Hansel makes it back inside just in time. That was dangerously close.”
Brick Brody: “Too close. Hansel almost let the grin steal the match without a pin, without a submission, just by making him late.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Hansel goes to the leg now, twisting into a spinning toe hold. He may be trying to ground Cheshire Cat and reduce those sudden aerial attacks.”
Brick Brody: “Good thinking. You can’t disappear if your wheel’s bent.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat counters with a standing Diamond Dust. A sharp, disorienting strike that drives Hansel down before he can fully secure control.”
Brick Brody: “That is what makes him miserable. You think you’ve got a limb, then the room flips and your face meets the canvas.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat keeps pressing. Yoshi Tonic again, and this time Hansel cannot defend it. The Cat pulls him through with speed and leverage.”
Brick Brody: “Hansel’s getting caught in rotations. That wears on a fighter. You get dumped enough times, you start wondering which way is up.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat has shifted the match into motion and confusion. Hansel must find a way to slow this down again.”
Brick Brody: “Or hit him so hard motion becomes impossible. That’s still my preferred strategy.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Both men fire at once. Hansel lands another dropkick, while Cheshire Cat answers with another shotgun front dropkick.”
Brick Brody: “A double collision of bad intentions. Both men had the same idea: feet first, no apology.”
Julian Ward: “They both go down briefly, and the crowd rises. This match is no longer simply Hansel chasing a trickster. Cheshire Cat is giving back damage.”
Brick Brody: “And Hansel’s proving he can eat it. That matters. You don’t beat Wonderland by staying untouched. You beat it by staying mean after it touches you.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “Hansel plants his feet and powers Cheshire Cat up for a power slam. He drives him down with authority.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the kind of move that takes nonsense out of a man. Pick him up, put him down, let the canvas do the arguing.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat attempted to brace for it, but Hansel’s strength carried through. The momentum is beginning to lean back toward Hansel.”
Brick Brody: “For now. But with the Hatter outside, momentum is never safe. It’s just borrowed.”
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “Hansel connects with an atomic kneedrop, driving the point of the knee upward with painful precision.”
Brick Brody: “Old-school punishment. I love it. Nothing mystical. Nothing pretty. Just damage in a place nobody wants damage.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat fires back with another shotgun front dropkick, but Hansel absorbs enough to stay in position. Hansel hooks the leg.”
Brick Brody: “First real cover. Let’s see if the Cat still has nine lives or just a smart kickout.”
Julian Ward: “One — and Cheshire Cat kicks out before two. Hansel forced the first pin attempt, but the Cat escapes quickly.”
Brick Brody: “Too early to bury him. But not too early to let him know the grave’s been dug.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat returns to the shotgun front dropkick, and once again Hansel cannot fully defend. The Cat has found a reliable weapon tonight.”
Brick Brody: “Keep hitting the chest, keep knocking the air out, keep making the tough guy reset. That’s smart cruelty.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat drops into a cover of his own. One — Hansel kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Not enough. You don’t pin Hansel with one bad breath and a cute grin. You’ve got to hurt him deeper.”
Julian Ward: “Still, Cheshire Cat has now made Hansel answer a count. The pressure is equalizing.”
Brick Brody: “And the Hatter knows it. Look at him smiling like he found a bone in the soup.”
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat strikes with the Last Supper. Hansel is caught clean, and this could be the most dangerous sequence of the match so far.”
Brick Brody: “That one had finality in it. Ugly name. Uglier landing.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat covers again. One — two — Hansel kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Now that mattered. Two-count means the body is listening even if the heart says no.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel survives, but Cheshire Cat is no longer merely frustrating him. He is threatening him.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Threat makes a match honest, even when the Cat is anything but.”
Minute 18
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat attempts another suicide dive, but Hansel neutralizes it. He catches enough of the movement to prevent full impact.”
Brick Brody: “That might be the smartest thing Hansel has done all night. Make the Cat pay for repeating himself.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat crashes awkwardly, and Hansel buys himself a necessary moment to recover.”
Brick Brody: “Momentum just slipped on its own banana peel. Now Hansel better stomp on it before it gets back up.”
Minute 19
Julian Ward: “Mad Hatter is involved again. He shouts nonsensical taunts toward Hansel, trying to draw him off balance.”
Brick Brody: “That lunatic is dancing on the edge of a disqualification without stepping over it. Annoying, effective, and deeply punchable.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel reverses the distraction this time. He does not bite fully. He fires a dropkick toward Cheshire Cat, but the Cat neutralizes it.”
Brick Brody: “Still not clean, but I like that Hansel didn’t lose his head. The Hatter wanted rage. Hansel gave him restraint with a boot attached.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat survives the exchange, but the interference did not succeed the way it did earlier.”
Brick Brody: “That matters. Tricks lose value when the victim starts recognizing the rhythm.”
Minute 20
Julian Ward: “Hansel connects with another dropkick, but Cheshire Cat simultaneously snakes behind and catches the rear naked choke again.”
Brick Brody: “That’s rotten and beautiful. Hansel lands the shot, but the Cat takes the neck.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel is forced to fight from a dangerous position. Cheshire Cat’s arms are locked high, and Hansel drops to one knee before surging back up.”
Brick Brody: “The kid’s tough. No question. But every choke takes something. Even when you escape, you leave breath behind.”
Minute 21
Julian Ward: “Hansel breaks free and launches Cheshire Cat with a belly-to-belly suplex. That one had a different impact.”
Brick Brody: “That was anger with technique. Best kind.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel covers. One — two — Cheshire Cat kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “That was closer. The Cat felt that one. You could see the grin twitch.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel nearly had him, and this crowd felt it. The support is beginning to surge again.”
Brick Brody: “Crowd better not get ahead of itself. The Hatter is still out there, and the Cat still has claws.”
Minute 22
Julian Ward: “Hansel keeps things simple with an armdrag, taking Cheshire Cat over and forcing him back to the canvas.”
Brick Brody: “Simple is good. Simple keeps you from chasing shadows.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat tried to defend, but Hansel stayed tight to the motion and controlled the landing.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the thing. Hansel doesn’t need to out-weird him. He needs to outlast him and keep putting him down.”
Minute 23
Julian Ward: “Both men pause defensively again before Cheshire Cat slips behind and clamps in another rear naked choke.”
Brick Brody: “Third time he’s gone for that choke. That tells you what the Cat knows — Hansel’s body is stubborn, so attack the air supply.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel is in trouble again, reaching for the top hand, trying to create enough space to turn his chin.”
Brick Brody: “This is where pride gets you beat. Don’t pose. Don’t listen to the crowd. Fight the hands or go to sleep.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel stays alive, but the damage accumulates.”
Brick Brody: “Everything accumulates in a match like this. Breath, bruises, confusion, anger. Eventually one bill comes due.”
Minute 24
Julian Ward: “Hansel surges forward with a flying forearm smash. Cheshire Cat answers with a hurricanrana, taking Hansel over in motion.”
Brick Brody: “That was a collision between grit and lunacy. Hansel hit him, Cat spun him, both men landed with complaints.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel’s strike had weight behind it, but Cheshire Cat’s counter kept him from fully seizing control.”
Brick Brody: “Cat’s getting harder to put away because he never stays in one kind of fight. Punch him, he rolls. Throw him, he twists. Chase him, he vanishes.”
Minute 25
Julian Ward: “Hansel lands another flying forearm smash, and Cheshire Cat is rocked.”
Brick Brody: “That one landed. The Cat’s smile almost left the room without him.”
Julian Ward: “But Mad Hatter throws confetti toward Hansel’s face. Hansel is blinded. Abe warns the Hatter, but the damage is done.”
Brick Brody: “That is filthy. That is cowardly. That is exactly why the Hatter is out here.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel is now forced onto the defensive, wiping at his eyes while Cheshire Cat tries to recover.”
Brick Brody: “This is where the match can turn. You blind a man, you don’t just take his sight. You take his timing.”
Minute 26
Julian Ward: “Mad Hatter compounds the issue, stepping back into ‘Honest’ Abe’s attention with another bizarre poem.”
Brick Brody: “Abe needs to throw him out. I know his name is Honest, but honest doesn’t mean patient.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel is still compromised, still on defense, and the referee’s focus has been stolen at a crucial moment.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the whole plan. Blind the fighter, distract the law, let the Cat prowl.”
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat appears ready to exploit it, but Hansel is still standing. That matters.”
Brick Brody: “Standing blind is still standing. But it better turn into swinging soon.”
Minute 27
Julian Ward: “Cheshire Cat goes back to the Fujiwara armbar, trying to attack the weakened arm and finally drag Hansel down.”
Brick Brody: “Smart target. After the forearms, after the throws, take the arm and turn Hansel into half a fighter.”
Julian Ward: “But Hansel reverses it. He rolls through, powers up, and catches Cheshire Cat around the body.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. He caught him. He finally caught the grin.”
Julian Ward: “Belly-to-belly suplex by Hansel. Cheshire Cat hits hard. Hansel holds position and covers.”
Brick Brody: “Hook deep. Don’t let the freak melt out.”
Julian Ward: “One — two — three. Hansel has pinned the Cheshire Cat.”
Brick Brody: “He did it the right way. He didn’t solve Wonderland. He survived it, grabbed it by the ribs, and slammed it flat.”
The bell rings.
The crowd erupts.
Mad Hatter freezes at ringside, hat tilted, expression briefly emptied of amusement.
Cheshire Cat lies on the canvas, blinking up at the lights, the grin smaller now.
Hansel rolls to one knee, breathing hard, still wiping a trace of confetti from his eyes.
“Honest” Abe raises Hansel’s arm.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner… HANSEL!”
Hansel does not celebrate wildly.
He looks down at Cheshire Cat.
Then toward Mad Hatter.
The Hatter slowly backs away from the apron, applauding once.
Then twice.
Then not at all.
Julian Ward: “Hansel has survived a deeply disorienting opening trial. He endured the Cheshire Cat’s chokes, counters, and constant shifts in rhythm. He endured the Mad Hatter’s interference. And in the decisive moment, he found something solid inside the madness.”
Brick Brody: “That was not pretty. It was better than pretty. Hansel got blinded, baited, choked, kicked, and twisted around, and he still had enough left to throw the Cat through the mat. That is how you win in this division. You don’t complain about tricks. You punish them.”
Julian Ward: “A hard-earned victory for Hansel, and a warning to Wonderland. Confusion can wound him. It can delay him. But tonight, it could not stop him.”
WINNER: HANSEL DEFEATS CHESHIRE CAT VIA PINFALL WITH A BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX AT THE 27:00 MINUTE MARK.
The camera returns from the ring area after Hansel’s victory.
The crowd is still restless, still buzzing from the opening match.
A chant rolls through one section.
“HAN-SEL! HAN-SEL! HAN-SEL!”
Another pocket of the Coliseum boos toward the aisle, still directing venom at the departing Mad Hatter.
Then—
The torches along the upper balcony dim.
One by one.
The arena lights sink into a colder shade.
The crowd quiets, not because they are told to, but because the room changes.
A faint sound crawls through the speakers.
Wind.
Not arena wind.
Winter wind.
Old wind.
The kind that moves through empty streets after midnight.
The big screen flickers.
Static.
A flash of candlelight.
A flash of frost on old glass.
Then Fenwick Grimbough appears.
He is seated in a high-backed chair before a dark wooden table. The lighting is low, yellow, and cruel. A stack of aged rulebooks sits at his right hand. Beside them rests a polished silver bell, untouched.
Fenwick’s fingers are folded neatly.
His expression carries the patient contempt of a man forced to address people he considers beneath the text of his own footnotes.
Behind him stands the Universal Champion.
The Ghost of Christmas Past.
Motionless.
Pale.
Hooded in old light and memory.
The Universal Title rests across the Ghost’s shoulder, but even the championship seems quieter in his presence, as if history itself has claimed it.
The Camelot crowd immediately erupts in boos.
Julian Ward: “The Universal Champion appears before us, but notably, not in person.”
Brick Brody: “Good eye, Julian. Fenwick Grimbough found a way to insult an entire Coliseum without risking a single rotten tomato.”
The boos grow louder.
Fenwick waits.
He does not raise his voice.
He lets the crowd exhaust itself against a screen.
Fenwick Grimbough: “How spirited.”
The crowd boos harder.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Yes. Yes. Wave your banners. Stamp your boots. Rattle your borrowed swords and inherited delusions. I assure you, the sound carries.”
Fenwick tilts his head slightly, as though listening to an unpleasant insect trapped near a window.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum. A magnificent structure. Stone dressed as legacy. Torchlight mistaken for nobility. A room full of people who have convinced themselves that sitting beneath banners makes them part of the stories stitched upon them.”
The crowd turns hostile.
A loud chant begins.
“YOU’RE A COWARD!”
“YOU’RE A COWARD!”
Fenwick smiles faintly.
Fenwick Grimbough: “No. A coward fears judgment. I merely decline inconvenience.”
Behind him, the Ghost of Christmas Past does not move.
The title catches a faint glimmer of light.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Permit me to clarify the matter before the more excitable among you attempt to reshape absence into accusation. The Universal Champion did not fail to appear in Camelot tonight. The Universal Champion chose not to appear in Camelot tonight.”
The crowd boos.
Fenwick Grimbough: “There is an important distinction. One fails to appear when obligation is unmet. One chooses not to appear when obligation has not been earned.”
Julian Ward: “Fenwick Grimbough is making a deliberate statement here. The Universal Championship is not being hidden by accident. It is being withheld by design.”
Brick Brody: “That’s Fenwick. He doesn’t just duck a fight. He files paperwork explaining why the fight was never worthy of his time.”
Fenwick reaches to the rulebook stack and places one palm gently over the top volume.
Fenwick Grimbough: “The Universal Championship is not a carnival prize to be displayed before whichever local myth decides to sharpen a blade and demand attention. It is not bait for knights. It is not tribute for kings. It is not an ornament for Camelot’s wounded vanity.”
The Ghost remains perfectly still.
Fenwick looks slightly upward, toward the camera.
Fenwick Grimbough: “It belongs to the Ghost of Christmas Past. A being who carries memory as weapon, regret as chain, and truth as punishment. To stand opposite him is not to enter a contest. It is to be measured against everything you once were, everything you failed to become, and every lie you buried beneath your own name.”
The arena darkens further.
On the screen, the Ghost’s pale shape becomes more distinct.
The Universal Title gleams coldly.
Fenwick Grimbough: “And so we considered the question.”
Fenwick lifts one finger.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Who, in Camelot, is worthy?”
A loud roar of boos.
Fenwick Grimbough: “King Arthur?”
The crowd cheers at Arthur’s name.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Preoccupied.”
Boos.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Sir Galahad?”
Mixed cheers rise.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Distracted by fire he no longer commands.”
The crowd reacts sharply.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Sandman?”
Heavy boos.
Fenwick Grimbough: “A creature of nightmares, yes. But nightmares are cheap. Memory is expensive.”
Fenwick’s eyes narrow.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Sinbad?”
The crowd erupts in cheers.
“SIN-BAD! SIN-BAD! SIN-BAD!”
Fenwick waits, visibly amused.
Fenwick Grimbough: “A sailor clinging to flame while the tide gathers beneath him. Admirable perhaps. Suitable? No.”
The boos return.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Frankenstein’s Monster?”
A heavy reaction rolls through the arena.
Fenwick glances back briefly at the Ghost, then returns his gaze to the camera.
Fenwick Grimbough: “A champion already wearing a crown he does not understand.”
Brick Brody: “He’s poking everybody. That’s the dangerous part. Fenwick can’t help himself. He’s got a rulebook in one hand and a shovel in the other.”
Julian Ward: “He is also placing the Universal Champion above the Mythic Division’s hierarchy. That will not go unanswered forever.”
Fenwick settles back in the chair.
Fenwick Grimbough: “After careful review, sober consideration, and a mercifully brief survey of the talent currently cluttering Camelot’s halls, we reached the only responsible conclusion.”
He pauses.
Fenwick Grimbough: “There is no one in that building worthy to challenge the Ghost of Christmas Past for the Universal Championship.”
The Coliseum explodes.
Boos crash through the arena.
Fans stand and point toward the screen.
A chant begins.
“SHOW UP! SHOW UP! SHOW UP!”
Fenwick’s expression does not change.
Fenwick Grimbough: “How charming. The peasants demand proximity.”
The crowd gets louder.
Fenwick Grimbough: “No.”
One word.
Flat.
Final.
Fenwick Grimbough: “The Ghost of Christmas Past will not come to Camelot to satisfy noise. He will not cross that threshold so the unworthy may feel honored by his shadow. He will not parade the Universal Championship through a hall of pretenders merely because Alton Bell’s division has grown accustomed to mistaking violence for merit.”
The camera cuts to the commentary desk.
Julian remains composed.
Brick’s jaw tightens.
Julian Ward: “That was a direct challenge to the authority and judgment of Alton Bell.”
Brick Brody: “Fenwick better be careful. Bell might talk like a funeral director, but he runs this place. You don’t spit on the throne and then complain when the guards start sharpening axes.”
Back on the screen, Fenwick reaches for the silver bell.
He does not ring it.
He simply turns it slightly.
Fenwick Grimbough: “General Manager Alton Bell may, of course, continue his search.”
He says the title with delicate mockery.
Fenwick Grimbough: “He may sift through knights, monsters, thieves, dream-haunted relics, forest loyalists, and whatever broken moral sculptures pass for contenders under his jurisdiction. He may arrange trials. He may consult ledgers. He may light every torch in Camelot and pretend illumination creates worth.”
Fenwick leans forward.
Fenwick Grimbough: “But until he presents a challenger suitable to stand before the Universal Champion, the Ghost of Christmas Past will not appear in Camelot.”
The Ghost finally moves.
Only slightly.
His hand rests on the Universal Title.
The air in the arena seems to drop colder.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Understand the mercy in that.”
The crowd boos, but quieter now, unsettled by the Ghost’s movement.
Fenwick Grimbough: “You are not being denied a champion.”
His voice lowers.
Fenwick Grimbough: “You are being spared a reckoning.”
The Ghost raises his head.
The screen flickers.
For one second, images flash across the big screen.
Old Christmas candles.
A cracked mask.
A hand reaching through frost.
Mean Jack Mason falling.
A championship lifted beneath cold light.
Then the Ghost’s face appears closer to the camera, not fully seen, only suggested beneath the hood.
Ghost of Christmas Past: “What is remembered… does not need to arrive.”
The crowd goes quiet for half a breath.
Then erupts again.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Precisely.”
Fenwick smiles with cold satisfaction.
Fenwick Grimbough: “So enjoy your little trials tonight, Camelot. Cheer your sailors. Worship your knights. Clutch your banners. Tell yourselves that this Coliseum is the center of myth.”
He stands now.
The Ghost remains behind him.
Fenwick Grimbough: “But the Universal Championship does not follow noise.”
He lifts the top rulebook from the stack and closes it with a dull thud.
Fenwick Grimbough: “It follows consequence.”
Fenwick looks directly into the camera.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Find us someone worthy, Mr. Bell.”
A pause.
Fenwick Grimbough: “Or stop wasting the Champion’s time.”
The screen cuts to black.
The arena lights remain dim.
The crowd boos into darkness.
A faint winter wind lingers through the speakers, then fades.
Julian Ward: “Fenwick Grimbough has made his position unmistakably clear. The Universal Champion will not enter Camelot until Alton Bell produces a challenger they deem worthy. That is not merely arrogance. That is a strategic withdrawal wrapped in insult.”
Brick Brody: “Call it what it is, Julian. Fenwick is hiding behind standards he gets to define. But I’ll give the old snake credit — he knows how to make everybody angry while keeping the belt far away from danger.”
Julian Ward: “The question now turns to Alton Bell. If the Universal Championship is being withheld from this arena, then the Mythic Division’s General Manager must decide whether to accept Fenwick’s terms… or force the champion’s hand.”
Brick Brody: “And if Bell does force it, he better choose the challenger carefully. Because the Ghost of Christmas Past doesn’t just beat people. He drags them backward through every wound they thought they survived.”
The camera lingers on the black screen above the entranceway.
The crowd continues to boo.
Somewhere in the upper bowl, a fan raises a sign:
CAMELOT REMEMBERS TOO
The shot fades toward the next segment.
The camera returns to the ring.
The torches above Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum burn lower now, their flames bending slightly as if some unseen draft has entered the building.
Louie Linville stands centered in the ring, microphone held close, posture formal and still.
The crowd has not fully settled after Fenwick Grimbough’s insult to Camelot.
A restless anger remains.
Then the lights shift.
Green-black illumination bleeds across the entranceway.
A low choral hum moves through the arena, ancient and bitter.
Myrdden the Hollow steps out first.
His robes drag behind him like torn shadow. His face is unreadable beneath the cold, ruined calm of something that has forgotten mercy and considers memory a weakness.
Behind him comes Morgana Le Faye.
She walks slowly.
Regal.
Severe.
Every step suggests ownership of the floor beneath her. Her eyes remain fixed on the ring, but her expression carries disgust for the people around it. She does not look like someone arriving for competition.
She looks like someone arriving to prove an old curse is still valid.
Boos fill the Coliseum.
Morgana gives them nothing.
Myrdden raises one hand slightly, and the torchlight near the entrance flickers.
Julian Ward: “Morgana Le Faye enters with Myrdden the Hollow at her side, and that alone makes this match more dangerous. Morgana does not simply wrestle. She imposes will.”
Brick Brody: “She walks like a queen, fights like a knife, and has a dead-eyed sorcerer standing close enough to make every rule feel optional. Alice better not blink too long.”
Morgana steps through the ropes.
Myrdden remains near her corner, hands folded inside his sleeves.
The arena lighting changes again.
A bright blue-white spotlight cuts through the gloom.
The sound of a ticking clock ripples through the speakers.
Then a second sound.
A door creaking open.
Alice appears at the entrance.
She stands beneath the light, looking smaller than Morgana, but not diminished by it. Her eyes are wide, alert, alive with that strange defiance that does not quite understand when it is supposed to yield.
She wears determination like armor made from impossible things.
The Wonderland-themed pocket of the crowd comes alive.
“AL-ICE! AL-ICE! AL-ICE!”
Alice takes a breath.
Then walks to the ring.
She does not skip.
She does not play.
Tonight, there is no whimsy in her approach.
Only resolve.
Julian Ward: “Alice has faced madness before, but Morgana is a different kind of danger. This is not chaos. This is control. This is someone who believes every person in her path can be bent.”
Brick Brody: “Alice has courage. Fine. But courage is not a shield against someone like Morgana. Morgana does not want to scare her. She wants to own the place in Alice’s mind where hope keeps lighting candles.”
Alice climbs onto the apron and enters the ring.
She and Morgana stand across from one another.
Morgana looks down her nose at her.
Alice does not look away.
Louie Linville steps forward.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is scheduled for one fall.”
The crowd rises.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first… accompanied to the ring by Myrdden the Hollow… from the ancient veil where crowns rot and curses endure… she is the Sorceress of Shadows… MORGANA LE FAYE!”
Morgana slowly raises one hand.
The boos deepen.
Louie Linville: “And her opponent… from the doorways no tyrant can lock, from the path no curse can fully name… she is the girl who walked through wonder, fear, and madness… ALICE!”
The crowd cheers hard.
Alice gives a small nod toward the fans.
“Honest” Abe checks both competitors.
Morgana says something quietly to Alice.
Alice’s expression tightens, but she does not answer.
Abe signals.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Morgana begins immediately with a release German suplex, throwing Alice backward with sharp authority.”
Brick Brody: “That’s how you cut off a hopeful story. Dump it on the back of its head.”
Julian Ward: “Alice answers quickly, though. She springs back into motion and lands a double kneedrop, driving both knees down across Morgana’s upper body.”
Brick Brody: “Good for Alice. Don’t admire the witch. Hit her before the speech starts.”
Julian Ward: “A fast and physical opening. Morgana wanted dominance. Alice has already made clear she will not simply be handled.”
Brick Brody: “Not yet. But Morgana doesn’t need early control. She needs patience and a place to plant poison.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Morgana steps in and lands a super kick. Clean impact to Alice, and that one visibly rocked her.”
Brick Brody: “That kick had insult behind it. Morgana didn’t just hit her. She corrected her.”
Julian Ward: “Alice refuses to stay planted. She counters with an over-the-shoulder armdrag, using Morgana’s forward pressure against her.”
Brick Brody: “Alice is quicker than Morgana wants her to be. That kind of movement gets annoying, and annoying can lead proud people into mistakes.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana’s face tells the story. She expected obedience from the match. Alice is giving her resistance.”
Brick Brody: “Resistance is good. Survival is better. Let’s see if the girl can keep both.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Alice catches Morgana with the Wonderland Whirl hurricanrana. Beautiful rotation, and Morgana is taken over hard.”
Brick Brody: “That was pretty, but it had bite. I’ll give Alice that.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana absorbs the punishment, but she did not mount a defense there. Alice’s speed is beginning to disrupt the rhythm Morgana wanted.”
Brick Brody: “Morgana likes rituals. Alice is wrestling like a door slamming open in the middle of one.”
The crowd cheers for Alice.
Morgana gets to one knee and glares toward the stands.
Myrdden steps closer to the apron, whispering something too low for the camera to catch.
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Both competitors pause through a pair of defensive reads. Morgana and Alice each looking for the mistake.”
Brick Brody: “Nobody wants to give the first real opening. That’s smart. You give Morgana a loose thread, she makes a noose.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana strikes first out of the reset with another super kick. Alice again turns it into motion, answering with an over-the-shoulder armdrag.”
Brick Brody: “Alice keeps throwing her. That’s going to bruise more than Morgana’s back. It’s going to bruise that royal pride.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana lands the heavier blow, but Alice prevents her from controlling the sequence.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the problem for Morgana. She’s winning pieces, not owning the match.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Alice catches Morgana again. Double kneedrop connects, and Morgana had no answer for it.”
Brick Brody: “That one landed ugly. Knees do not care how ancient your bloodline is.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana absorbs the punishment, but Alice has now scored several meaningful impacts early.”
Brick Brody: “And listen to this crowd. They are starting to believe in her. That might be useful. It might also make Morgana want to hurt her in a more educational way.”
Morgana rolls toward the ropes.
Myrdden leans in, speaking calmly.
Morgana’s jaw tightens.
Alice stays back as “Honest” Abe warns Myrdden not to involve himself.
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Alice lands a superkick of her own. Morgana was a half-step late, and Alice caught her clean.”
Brick Brody: “Oh, that’ll make the witch mad. You do not steal the queen’s favorite weapon in front of the peasants.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana absorbs it, but she has been held without offense for several key exchanges now. Alice is not allowing her to dictate pace.”
Brick Brody: “That can change fast. Morgana’s too mean and too smart to stay behind forever. But right now, Alice is making her work.”
The crowd chants again.
“AL-ICE! AL-ICE! AL-ICE!”
Morgana turns toward them with visible contempt.
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Morgana snaps back with another super kick. Alice tries to brace, but she takes the impact.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. Morgana had enough of being embarrassed.”
Julian Ward: “Alice absorbs the blow, but Morgana needed that response. She needed to remind Alice this match can turn in one strike.”
Brick Brody: “More than that, she needed to remind herself. Pride gets shaky when the underdog keeps standing.”
Morgana steps closer to Alice and says something down at her.
Alice pushes up from the mat and stares back.
The crowd rises again.
Then the arena lights at the commentary desk dim slightly.
A cold red glow touches the aisle.
Lilith appears.
The Queen of the North walks slowly down the ramp.
The reaction shifts instantly.
Boos.
Fear.
Recognition.
Lilith wears the Queen of North Title as though it was forged specifically for her rule. She does not hurry. She does not look at the fans. Her eyes are fixed on the ring.
Morgana notices.
For the first time tonight, her focus leaves Alice completely.
Julian Ward: “Lilith is here.”
Brick Brody: “Oh, now this gets poisonous.”
Lilith walks around the ring, not toward Morgana’s corner, but toward the commentary desk.
She does not ask permission.
She takes a headset.
Lilith: “Continue, gentlemen. I am only here to observe what passes for ambition.”
Morgana’s eyes narrow from inside the ring.
Alice notices the shift immediately.
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Morgana tries to refocus and lands a Shining Wizard. Alice answers in the same movement with the Wonderland Whirl hurricanrana.”
Brick Brody: “Morgana hit her, but she was looking over here before she moved. That split second matters.”
Lilith: “It always does. Morgana’s weakness has never been ability. It has been how loudly she needs the room to acknowledge it.”
Julian Ward: “Alice keeps matching her in motion. The presence of Lilith at commentary has clearly changed the atmosphere.”
Brick Brody: “Changed it? She walked down here and put a crack in Morgana’s concentration without touching her. That’s champion behavior.”
In the ring, Morgana points toward Lilith and says something sharply.
Lilith smiles without raising her voice.
Lilith: “Eyes forward, Morgana.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Morgana drives through with another Shining Wizard. This time Alice cannot defend, and Morgana finally creates a stronger opening.”
Brick Brody: “That was anger getting productive. She heard Lilith and kicked Alice like Alice was the insult.”
Lilith: “If Morgana requires me to motivate her, perhaps she should thank me.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana is glaring this way again. That could become dangerous for her.”
Brick Brody: “It already is. Alice is too quick to give her half a ring and half an eye.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Morgana plants Alice with a DDT, but Alice rolls through enough to answer with another over-the-shoulder armdrag.”
Brick Brody: “That’s frustrating. Morgana keeps landing, and Alice keeps refusing to stay written into the ending.”
Lilith: “Morgana’s mistake is assuming resistance is disrespect. Sometimes resistance is simply evidence that power is not absolute.”
Julian Ward: “That is an interesting observation from the Queen of North.”
Lilith: “Do not mistake observation for generosity.”
Morgana slaps the mat once and rises.
She looks toward Lilith again.
Myrdden calls to her from ringside, trying to pull her attention back.
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Myrdden the Hollow gets involved. He appears to distract Alice, trying to create an opening for Morgana’s sneak attack.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the Hollow sticking his dead fingers into the match.”
Julian Ward: “But Alice does not fall for it cleanly. She moves through and lands a double kneedrop on Morgana. Alice covers.”
Brick Brody: “That backfired. Myrdden tried to open the door and Alice ran through it first.”
Julian Ward: “One — Morgana kicks out. Alice forced the first pin attempt, but Morgana escapes quickly.”
Lilith: “Myrdden’s assistance appears less helpful when Morgana is too busy wondering whether I am watching.”
Morgana sits up and stares toward the desk.
Lilith’s smile deepens.
Lilith: “I am.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Morgana takes advantage as Alice is briefly on defense. DDT connects, and Alice is driven into the canvas.”
Brick Brody: “That is the Morgana she needs to be. Cold. Direct. Stop worrying about the queen at the desk and hurt the girl in front of you.”
Lilith: “She heard you. How charming.”
Julian Ward: “Alice attempted to defend, but Morgana’s timing was too sharp in that exchange.”
Brick Brody: “Morgana’s dangerous when she stops performing superiority and starts proving it.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Morgana follows with another super kick. Alice is still on defense, and Morgana is pressing her advantage.”
Brick Brody: “That kick snapped her sideways. This is how Morgana can take the match back.”
Lilith: “Can. A useful word. It implies uncertainty.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana turns again toward commentary. Lilith’s comments are landing as heavily as some of the offense.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the fight outside the fight. Morgana wants Alice beaten. But she wants Lilith impressed, angry, or threatened. That’s too many goals.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “Morgana goes for another DDT, but Alice reverses it.”
Brick Brody: “Bad time to get predictable.”
Julian Ward: “Alice climbs, turns, and connects with Wonderland’s End Moonsault. Morgana absorbs the impact, but that reversal has broken the pressure.”
Brick Brody: “That was huge. Morgana had control, got distracted by her own pride, and Alice made her pay in midair.”
Lilith: “A queen should never be so easily turned by a girl who follows impossible doors.”
Morgana rolls to the ropes, clutching her midsection.
She glares toward Lilith with open anger.
Alice pulls herself up in the opposite corner, breathing hard.
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “Alice looks for the over-the-shoulder armdrag again, but Morgana reverses it.”
Brick Brody: “Finally. She stopped the spin.”
Julian Ward: “Myrdden the Hollow uses the moment to cast some kind of curse from ringside. ‘Honest’ Abe is screened from the full view.”
Brick Brody: “That was cheating. Pretty obvious cheating. But I’ll admit, it was well-timed cheating.”
Lilith: “Morgana accepting help while calling herself inevitable. There is poetry in that. Poor poetry, but poetry.”
Julian Ward: “Alice absorbs the effect and avoids being fully overtaken. Morgana gains ground, but not decisively.”
Brick Brody: “Because she’s still listening to Lilith. Every word is a hook.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “Morgana and Alice both attack the arms now. Morgana applies a Fujiwara armbar while Alice counters with a keylock.”
Brick Brody: “Now we’re grinding. Twisting joints, testing pain tolerance. This is less Wonderland, more workshop.”
Lilith: “Alice is smarter than Morgana wants to admit. She is not merely surviving the spellcraft. She is choosing targets.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana applies strong pressure, but Alice’s keylock forces her to adjust. Neither woman gets full control.”
Brick Brody: “That kind of exchange drains both of them. And the longer this goes, the more Morgana has to hear the champion breathe into a headset.”
Morgana’s eyes flick again toward commentary.
Lilith gives a small wave.
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Morgana fires another Shining Wizard, but Alice answers with a double kneedrop. Both women connect, but Alice’s impact appears heavier.”
Brick Brody: “Morgana got there, but Alice dropped those knees like she wanted to cave in the story.”
Lilith: “Morgana is beginning to fight in fragments. Anger. Pride. Strategy. They are not moving together.”
Julian Ward: “That fragmentation may be the difference. Alice is tired, but her purpose is clear.”
Brick Brody: “Purpose is good. Knees to the ribs are better. Alice just brought both.”
Minute 18
Julian Ward: “Alice catches Morgana in a keylock. Morgana cannot defend cleanly, and Alice is wrenching the arm.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the arm Myrdden wants raised at the end. Alice might make sure it doesn’t lift right.”
Lilith: “How unfortunate for Morgana. She does so enjoy gestures of triumph.”
Julian Ward: “Morgana reaches toward the ropes and finally creates separation, but Alice has clearly damaged the limb.”
Brick Brody: “And Morgana looks furious. Not hurt. Furious. That can be fuel or it can be a blindfold.”
Minute 19
Julian Ward: “Morgana spikes Alice with a DDT, but Alice answers with another Wonderland’s End Moonsault.”
Brick Brody: “That move is becoming a nightmare for Morgana. Every time she thinks Alice is down, Alice comes falling out of the sky.”
Julian Ward: “Alice covers. One — Morgana kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Only one, but that was not an easy one. Morgana had to fight out of that.”
Lilith: “She kicks out quickly when fear reaches her. That is worth remembering.”
Morgana rolls away and shouts toward Lilith.
Alice stays on her.
“Honest” Abe gestures for the match to continue.
Minute 20
Julian Ward: “Alice takes Morgana over again with the over-the-shoulder armdrag. Morgana absorbs the punishment, but Alice transitions quickly into another cover.”
Brick Brody: “Alice is stacking pressure now. Not just hitting moves. Making Morgana answer counts.”
Julian Ward: “One — two — Morgana kicks out again.”
The crowd rises.
Alice pushes herself up, sensing the match turning.
Morgana sits on the mat, breathing harder now, eyes split between Alice and Lilith.
Lilith: “That was closer than Morgana will admit.”
Brick Brody: “Everything is closer than Morgana admits.”
Julian Ward: “Alice has created a dangerous closing stretch. Morgana is still powerful, still capable, but her focus is no longer whole.”
Lilith: “It was never whole. It was merely decorated.”
Minute 21
Julian Ward: “Morgana looks for another DDT, trying to force the match back under her control.”
Brick Brody: “She needs this. She needs Alice down and Lilith quiet.”
Julian Ward: “Alice moves through it. She turns the momentum. Wonderland’s End Moonsault connects again.”
The Coliseum erupts.
Alice hooks the leg.
Myrdden steps forward, but “Honest” Abe spots him and points him back.
Julian Ward: “Cover by Alice.”
Brick Brody: “Morgana’s shoulders are down.”
Julian Ward: “One — two — three. Alice has pinned Morgana Le Faye.”
The bell rings.
The crowd explodes.
Alice rolls off Morgana and lies on her back for a moment, staring upward, chest rising and falling.
Morgana turns to her side, stunned.
Myrdden stands frozen at ringside.
Lilith slowly removes the headset.
She does not applaud.
She does not smile broadly.
She simply looks pleased.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner… ALICE!”
The crowd chants.
“AL-ICE! AL-ICE! AL-ICE!”
Alice sits up, disbelief crossing her face for half a second before it hardens into exhausted triumph.
“Honest” Abe raises her hand.
Morgana rises to one knee, eyes burning.
She does not look at Alice first.
She looks at Lilith.
Lilith steps away from the commentary desk and walks slowly toward the ring.
The Queen of North Title rests at her waist like a judgment.
Myrdden places himself near Morgana’s side, but Lilith does not even acknowledge him.
Lilith stops at the bottom of the ramp, just far enough away that Morgana would have to leave the ring to reach her.
The crowd quiets into anticipation.
Lilith: “Do not glare at me, Morgana.”
Morgana pulls herself up using the ropes.
Lilith: “You lost because Alice defeated you.”
Alice, still near the opposite ropes, watches carefully.
Morgana’s lips curl.
Lilith: “But you unraveled because I watched.”
The crowd reacts sharply.
Morgana steps toward the ropes, fury written across her face.
Lilith: “That is the difference between a claimant and a queen.”
Myrdden whispers to Morgana, urging restraint.
Lilith tilts her head.
Lilith: “At The Long Night, you may bring your curses. You may bring your Hollow advisor. You may bring every old grievance you have dressed up as destiny.”
Lilith taps the Queen of North Title.
Lilith: “But if my presence alone can bend your attention away from victory… then you are not coming for my crown.”
A pause.
Lilith’s voice lowers.
Lilith: “You are coming to be exposed beneath it.”
Morgana lunges toward the ropes, but Myrdden catches her arm before she exits.
Alice backs away, wisely removing herself from the path of what is becoming something colder than a post-match argument.
Lilith smiles faintly now.
Lilith: “Congratulations, Alice.”
Alice looks surprised.
Lilith’s eyes never leave Morgana.
Lilith: “You proved what I came to see.”
Lilith turns and walks back up the ramp.
Morgana seethes in the ring, humiliated and furious.
Myrdden’s hand remains on her arm.
Alice stands near the corner, holding the back of her neck, victorious but aware she has survived more than a match.
Julian Ward: “Alice has earned a major victory over Morgana Le Faye, but Lilith’s presence changed the texture of this contest. Morgana was not merely defeated by Alice’s resilience and timing. She was drawn into a psychological trap set by the Queen of North.”
Brick Brody: “Alice won the match. No argument. She hit the moonsault, she got the three. But Lilith? Lilith walked down here and made Morgana fight two battles. That is cold, nasty championship work.”
Julian Ward: “As The Long Night approaches, Morgana Le Faye now carries something dangerous into that title match: not just ambition, but embarrassment. And Alice leaves Camelot tonight with proof that even ancient malice can be overcome when its focus begins to fracture.”
WINNER: ALICE DEFEATS MORGANA LE FAYE VIA PINFALL WITH WONDERLAND’S END MOONSAULT AT THE 21:00 MINUTE MARK.
The camera returns to Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.
The mood has sharpened after Alice’s victory over Morgana Le Faye.
The crowd is still carrying that upset like a torch.
But now the ring is empty.
Waiting.
Louie Linville stands in the center, dressed in black and silver, microphone raised with formal restraint.
The lights lower toward the entrance.
A horn sounds.
Not heroic.
Official.
Cold.
A long scroll graphic burns across the big screen, marked with seals of debt, tax, and punishment.
Prince John emerges first.
He wears finery too bright for the darkness of Camelot, gold trim and smug authority wrapped around a coward’s posture. He smiles as though every person in the Coliseum exists because he has not yet chosen to charge them for breathing.
Behind him comes the Brute Bailiff.
Huge.
Severe.
A walking instrument of collection.
His gear is dark leather and iron-toned plate, built less for pageantry than intimidation. Every step lands like a payment being demanded. He does not look at the fans. He looks through them, as if calculating what they owe.
The boos begin immediately.
Prince John raises both hands as if accepting praise.
The boos grow louder.
Julian Ward: “The Brute Bailiff arrives with Prince John, and the symbolism is unmistakable. This is power enforced through fear. Debt collected through violence.”
Brick Brody: “And I hate to admit it, but that kind of power travels well. Brute Bailiff doesn’t care if the crowd likes him. He cares if Will Scarlett can still stand after thirty minutes of getting folded.”
Prince John climbs the steps first, then gestures grandly for the Brute Bailiff to enter.
The Bailiff steps over the middle rope.
The ring feels smaller immediately.
The lights shift.
Green breaks through the darkness.
Not soft forest green.
Sherwood green.
Drums begin.
Then a sharper sound cuts through the air.
A blade being drawn.
The crowd rises before Will Scarlett appears.
“WILL! WILL! WILL!”
Will Scarlett steps through the entranceway with fire in his eyes.
Red and green gear.
Taped wrists.
A face full of defiance that has gotten him hit before and will get him hit again.
He pauses at the top of the aisle, staring at Prince John first.
Then at the Brute Bailiff.
A smile pulls across Will’s face.
Not amused.
Ready.
He starts walking.
Fans along the barricade slap the rail.
A sign near the aisle reads:
SCARLETT DOESN’T RUN
Another reads:
COLLECT THIS
Will points once toward Prince John, then drags his thumb across his own chest as if daring the entire royal machine to come claim him.
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett comes to this ring with the force of open rebellion behind him. He has never mistaken authority for righteousness.”
Brick Brody: “No, but authority doesn’t need to be righteous to break your jaw. Will has guts. He also has a habit of picking fights with men who bring backup and rules they wrote themselves.”
Will slides into the ring.
He stands chest-forward across from Brute Bailiff.
Prince John says something from the corner.
Will smiles wider.
Louie Linville steps forward.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty-minute time limit.”
The crowd cheers.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first… accompanied to the ring by Prince John… from the ledgers of unjust rule and the halls where mercy is taxed… he is the collector of pain, the hand of punishment, the Brute Bailiff!”
The Bailiff raises one fist.
Prince John applauds himself for the association.
Louie Linville: “And his opponent… from Sherwood’s defiant bloodline… fighting for those who refuse to kneel, refuse to pay, and refuse to run… WILL SCARLETT!”
The Coliseum erupts.
Will climbs the middle rope and points to the crowd.
Brute Bailiff does not move.
“Honest” Abe checks both men.
Prince John tries to speak to Abe.
Abe points him back to the floor.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett starts fast, stepping in with a sharp step-up enzuigiri. He catches Brute Bailiff before the larger man can fully set his base.”
Brick Brody: “That’s how you start against a brute. Don’t let him make it a standing fight. Crack him before he puts the cuffs on you.”
Julian Ward: “The Bailiff absorbs the impact, but Will has made the first statement. Speed may be his best weapon tonight.”
Brick Brody: “Speed and spite. Will Scarlett has plenty of both.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff answers with a short-arm lariat, dragging Will into the impact and turning him inside out.”
Brick Brody: “That is debt collection with a clothesline. You run your mouth, the Bailiff sends the invoice across your throat.”
Julian Ward: “Will attempted to defend, but the Bailiff’s strength overwhelmed him.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the problem. Will can hit first. But if Bailiff catches him, the whole match changes weight.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Will comes back to the step-up enzuigiri. Again he targets the head, and again he lands clean.”
Brick Brody: “Good choice. You don’t chop down a wall by admiring it. You hit the same crack.”
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff tried to defend, but Will was too quick into the angle.”
Brick Brody: “Will is building his match. Stick, move, sting, move again. Just don’t get greedy.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett leaps in and connects with a Codebreaker. That one drives both knees up into the Bailiff’s face.”
Brick Brody: “That’ll rearrange the courthouse.”
Julian Ward: “The Bailiff goes down, and the crowd is fully behind Will now.”
Brick Brody: “Crowd can cheer all it wants. The question is whether Will can keep this pace without getting caught.”
Prince John paces at ringside, shouting that Will should be fined for insolence.
Will points down at him and laughs.
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Will takes flight with a tope con giro to the outside, throwing his body over the ropes and taking the Bailiff down near the floor.”
Brick Brody: “Risky. Brave. Stupid if you miss. Beautiful if you land.”
Julian Ward: “But Brute Bailiff answers with a hammer fist barrage during the scramble. Both men find damage in the exchange.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the Bailiff’s kind of fight. Close quarters, fists dropping like legal judgments.”
Julian Ward: “The referee begins the count, and the Bailiff makes it back inside at six.”
Brick Brody: “Will got the spectacle. Bailiff got the bruises. That’s a fair trade if you’re mean enough.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Will lands a superkick. The Bailiff responds with a German suplex. Both men hit heavy offense.”
Brick Brody: “That German had bad intentions. Will’s kick snapped him, but Bailiff threw him like property.”
Julian Ward: “This is becoming a contrast between Will’s sharp strikes and Bailiff’s crushing throws.”
Brick Brody: “And that contrast favors whoever can make the other fight their match. Right now, they’re both getting pieces.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Will goes back to the step-up enzuigiri. Third time tonight, and the Bailiff still cannot fully stop it.”
Brick Brody: “If the big man won’t block it, keep kicking him in the skull until he learns or drops.”
Julian Ward: “Will covers. One — Brute Bailiff kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Too early. Bailiff’s too heavy and too angry to stay down off that.”
Julian Ward: “Still, Will forced him to answer a count.”
Brick Brody: “That matters. Counts make monsters honest.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff catches Will with a flowing DDT. He absorbs the earlier pressure and drives Will down hard.”
Brick Brody: “That is how you slow a quick man. Put his head into the mat and let him remember where he is.”
Julian Ward: “Will absorbs the damage, but the momentum has shifted.”
Brick Brody: “One move from the Bailiff carries the weight of three from Will. That’s the size problem.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Will snaps the Bailiff forward with a snapmare facebreaker knee smash, but the Bailiff fires back with another hammer fist barrage.”
Brick Brody: “That was a bar fight in wrestling boots. Knee to the face, fists to the body, nobody leaving clean.”
Julian Ward: “The Bailiff’s barrage appears to do slightly more damage in the exchange.”
Brick Brody: “Because those fists are anvils. Will’s quick. Bailiff is heavy weather.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff continues with hammer fists, and this time Will cannot defend. He is being forced down under repeated blows.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the collection. That is not wrestling pretty. That is punishment in installments.”
Julian Ward: “Prince John looks delighted at ringside.”
Brick Brody: “Of course he does. Cowards love violence when someone else is swinging for them.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett fires a superkick, but Brute Bailiff catches him in motion with a flapjack. Heavy landing for Will.”
Brick Brody: “Will got the foot up, but Bailiff sent him airborne the wrong way.”
Julian Ward: “The larger man is beginning to read Will’s timing better.”
Brick Brody: “That’s trouble. Speed works until the bully figures out the route you keep taking.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Will goes to the apron and plants the Bailiff with a slingshot apron DDT. A dangerous move, and Will connects.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the kind of risk he needs. Put the big man’s head somewhere it doesn’t belong.”
Julian Ward: “But Brute Bailiff answers with another German suplex. Again, both men land significant offense.”
Brick Brody: “This is getting mean. Will’s not backing away from the damage, and Bailiff’s not impressed by the pain.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “A brief defensive lull, then Brute Bailiff catches Will with a Saito suplex. Will absorbs the punishment, but he lands hard.”
Brick Brody: “That suplex folded him into tomorrow morning.”
Julian Ward: “Bailiff covers. One — two — Will Scarlett kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Good kickout. But that two-count tells you the big man is starting to drag Will into deeper water.”
Julian Ward: “Will remains defiant, but the accumulation is becoming real.”
Brick Brody: “Defiance gets heavier when your spine starts arguing with it.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “Will comes back with another snapmare facebreaker knee smash. Bailiff answers with a Saito suplex.”
Brick Brody: “These two are trading insult for injury and injury for worse injury.”
Julian Ward: “Will keeps targeting the face and head. Bailiff keeps targeting the body and base.”
Brick Brody: “And the Bailiff’s strategy makes sense. Take away Will’s legs, and all that rebellion stops bouncing.”
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “Will strikes with a pump kick. Brute Bailiff responds by attacking the leg with a dragon screw.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. That’s vicious and smart. You don’t chase Will Scarlett. You wreck the wheel.”
Julian Ward: “Will’s kick landed, but the dragon screw may have more lasting effect.”
Brick Brody: “Exactly. Will won the moment. Bailiff might have won the next five minutes.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett fights through and lands yet another step-up enzuigiri. He refuses to surrender speed even with that leg compromised.”
Brick Brody: “That’s guts. Dangerous guts, but guts.”
Julian Ward: “The Bailiff failed to defend against it, and Will has once again created separation.”
Brick Brody: “Separation is oxygen for Will. If Bailiff gets chest to chest, the kid gets crushed.”
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff catches him again with a German suplex. Will absorbs the punishment, but that landing was severe.”
Brick Brody: “That’s what I’m talking about. One grab. One throw. Whole crowd goes quiet for half a second.”
Julian Ward: “Will is slower getting up now.”
Brick Brody: “He should be. He’s been bounced around like a stolen purse.”
Minute 18
Julian Ward: “Will lands the snapmare facebreaker knee smash. Bailiff answers immediately with a short-arm lariat.”
Brick Brody: “The short-arm lariat is brutal because there’s nowhere to go. Bailiff reels you in, then takes your head off.”
Julian Ward: “Will’s offense remains sharp, but he is taking heavy counters every time he steps in.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the price of fighting a bigger man. Every entrance into range has a toll.”
Minute 19
Julian Ward: “Will goes back to the slingshot apron DDT. Another strong connection.”
Brick Brody: “That move is keeping him alive. Bailiff’s head keeps meeting bad geography.”
Julian Ward: “But the Bailiff answers with a short-arm lariat again. Will is rocked.”
Brick Brody: “And that’s keeping the Bailiff alive. Every time Will gets clever, Bailiff gets cruel.”
Minute 20
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff attacks the leg again with a dragon screw. Will cannot defend, and that left leg twists badly.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the whole case right there. Break the leg, end the flight.”
Julian Ward: “Will grabs at the knee, and Prince John applauds from the floor.”
Brick Brody: “I hope Will gets a hand on him before this is over. I really do.”
Minute 21
Julian Ward: “Will still manages a pump kick, but Brute Bailiff responds with another German suplex. Both men land heavy.”
Brick Brody: “That was stubbornness against mass. Neither man blinked.”
Julian Ward: “Will is clearly hurting, but his timing has not abandoned him.”
Brick Brody: “Timing is the last thing a fighter loses before the lights go out.”
Minute 22
Julian Ward: “Prince John is involving himself now. He passes something to the Brute Bailiff.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. Foreign object. Royal charity.”
Julian Ward: “The Bailiff uses it while Abe’s view is obstructed. Will absorbs the punishment, and now the Bailiff covers.”
Brick Brody: “That’s garbage, but it’s effective garbage.”
Julian Ward: “One — Will kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Ha! Not enough. Prince John tried to buy the finish, and Will spit the coin back.”
Julian Ward: “Will survives, but the damage from that object was real.”
Brick Brody: “So is the anger coming off him now.”
Minute 23
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett fires back with a pump kick, but Brute Bailiff catches him with a brainbuster. Devastating impact.”
Brick Brody: “That brainbuster should have ended a lot of men’s evenings.”
Julian Ward: “But Will rolls toward the ropes, and now he sees Prince John close to the apron.”
Brick Brody: “Oh, he’s had enough.”
Julian Ward: “Will retaliates against Prince John. He catches him at ringside and drives him back hard. Prince John is down.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the best thing I’ve seen all night. You hand a foreign object into a fight, you better be ready when the fight answers.”
Julian Ward: “Prince John is unavailable now, and Brute Bailiff has lost his outside advantage.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Now it’s down to Will and the collector.”
Minute 24
Julian Ward: “Will lands another slingshot apron DDT. He is forcing the Bailiff to absorb repeated head and neck damage.”
Brick Brody: “That’s how you cut down a big authoritarian tree. Take the top off.”
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff counters with a dragon screw, again attacking the leg.”
Brick Brody: “And that’s how the tree falls on you. Bailiff keeps chopping the base.”
Julian Ward: “Prince John remains down and unable to assist.”
Brick Brody: “Couldn't happen to a more deserving leech.”
Minute 25
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff goes back to the hammer fist barrage, but Will neutralizes it. He blocks enough of the blows to prevent real damage.”
Brick Brody: “That’s grit. He saw the fists coming and refused to be buried under them.”
Julian Ward: “Will has survived a dangerous stretch, and without Prince John available, Bailiff must do this alone.”
Brick Brody: “And he can. That’s the problem. Bailiff doesn’t need Prince John to hurt you. Prince John just makes it easier.”
Minute 26
Julian Ward: “Will climbs high. He looks for Crimson Betrayal, the top-rope leg drop.”
Brick Brody: “Bad leg and all. That’s reckless courage.”
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff neutralizes it. Will cannot connect cleanly.”
Brick Brody: “That leg betrayed him. You go to the top rope on a bad wheel, and gravity starts negotiating with the other guy.”
Julian Ward: “Will loses a major opportunity there.”
Brick Brody: “And in a match this close, missed opportunities start looking like tombstones.”
Minute 27
Julian Ward: “Will returns to the slingshot apron DDT. He lands it again, refusing to let the failed leg drop stop his offense.”
Brick Brody: “Will’s stubborn enough to be dangerous and stupid enough to survive being dangerous.”
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff answers with a Saito suplex. Another punishing throw.”
Brick Brody: “The Bailiff keeps reminding him: rebellion still has to obey physics.”
Minute 28
Julian Ward: “Will lands the snapmare facebreaker knee smash. Brute Bailiff absorbs the punishment without an answer this time.”
Brick Brody: “That was a clean window for Will. He needed that.”
Julian Ward: “The Bailiff is slowing. The damage to the head and face has accumulated.”
Brick Brody: “Big men slow eventually. The question is whether Will has enough left to take advantage before the clock eats him.”
Minute 29
Julian Ward: “Will strikes with the step-up enzuigiri again. Brute Bailiff answers with the short-arm lariat. Both men connect.”
Brick Brody: “That was desperation with technique on both sides.”
Julian Ward: “Will lands, but the lariat cuts him down hard. Both men are struggling to rise.”
Brick Brody: “Thirty minutes will do that. Every breath costs more. Every mistake gets louder.”
The crowd begins to clap in rhythm.
Will Scarlett pushes up on one knee.
Brute Bailiff grabs the ropes.
Prince John is still down near ringside, clutching his jaw and shouting weakly at anyone who will listen.
Minute 30
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett finds one more opening. Pump kick connects. The Bailiff absorbs the punishment, but he drops back into the ropes.”
Brick Brody: “That kick had everything Will had left in it.”
Julian Ward: “Will tries to follow, but the clock is nearly gone. Bailiff is still standing. Will is still pushing forward.”
Brick Brody: “Come on, kid. Get there.”
The bell rings.
The crowd erupts in confusion and frustration.
Louie Linville waits for confirmation from the timekeeper.
“Honest” Abe separates both men.
Will Scarlett steps forward, demanding more time.
Brute Bailiff leans against the ropes, breathing heavily.
Prince John, still shaken, begins screaming that the draw should count as a moral victory for lawful authority.
The crowd boos him mercilessly.
Louie Linville raises the microphone.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen… the thirty-minute time limit has expired. Therefore, this match has been declared… a draw.”
The crowd boos the result.
Will Scarlett looks furious.
Brute Bailiff slowly straightens.
The two men stare across the ring.
Then the lights at the aisle shift.
A cold metallic sound rings through the Coliseum.
Not music.
A ledger being chained shut.
Ledger Knight walks out.
Tall.
Armored.
Expression hidden beneath the hard lines of his helmet and mask. He carries himself like a man who believes every act of violence is simply an entry properly recorded. The crowd boos immediately.
Will turns toward the aisle.
Brute Bailiff strikes from behind.
The crowd explodes.
Julian Ward: “Brute Bailiff from behind. The match is over, and now the assault begins.”
Brick Brody: “That’s not a draw to them. That’s unfinished business.”
Ledger Knight steps through the ropes and joins the attack.
He and Brute Bailiff begin stomping Will Scarlett down.
Prince John pulls himself upright at ringside, suddenly brave again now that Will is outnumbered.
Prince John: “Collect him! Collect him properly!”
Brute Bailiff drags Will up and hammers him with a forearm across the back.
Ledger Knight drives a boot into Will’s ribs.
The crowd begins to roar.
A familiar cheer cuts through the chaos.
Robin Hood bursts from the entranceway.
The Coliseum rises.
Robin sprints down the aisle toward the ring, bow-green gear flashing under the torchlight, eyes locked on the attack.
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood is coming to the aid of Will Scarlett.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Get down here and even the odds.”
Robin gets halfway down the aisle.
Then the lights drop again.
A massive figure steps out from the side of the entrance path.
The crowd’s cheer breaks into alarm.
The man is towering.
Authoritarian.
Medieval brutality given human form.
He wears heavy black and gold armor under a long flowing coat that moves behind him like a royal decree written in shadow. His shoulders are broad, his frame extremely muscular, his posture regal and merciless. His eyes glow cold beneath a severe brow, pale light fixed on Robin like judgment without appeal.
Robin turns just in time.
The mysterious wrestler drives into him with a crushing forearm.
Robin hits the aisle hard.
The crowd erupts in shock.
Julian Ward: “Who is that?”
Brick Brody: “I don’t know, but Robin Hood just ran into a castle wall with eyes.”
The towering man grabs Robin by the throat area of his gear and hauls him up.
He throws him into the barricade with brutal force.
Fans recoil.
Security begins moving from the far side.
In the ring, Ledger Knight and Brute Bailiff continue beating Will Scarlett.
Brute Bailiff drives hammer fists into Will’s back.
Ledger Knight plants a boot on Will’s shoulder and presses him down like sealing a document.
Prince John laughs, pointing toward the aisle.
Prince John: “Behold order!”
The mysterious wrestler lifts Robin again and hurls him shoulder-first into the edge of the ramp.
Robin collapses, clutching his arm.
The crowd boos with full fury.
Julian Ward: “This was coordinated. Ledger Knight to the ring. Brute Bailiff on Will Scarlett. And now this unknown force intercepting Robin Hood before he could make the save.”
Brick Brody: “That’s not just backup. That’s strategy. They knew Robin would come. They had a monster waiting in the aisle with a badge made of violence.”
Security floods the aisle.
Three officials enter the ring.
Brute Bailiff shoves one away.
Ledger Knight backs off only when more security climbs through the ropes.
Will Scarlett rolls toward the bottom rope, coughing and clutching his ribs.
Outside, the mysterious wrestler stands over Robin Hood.
Security forms a wall between them.
The towering man does not fight the security.
He simply looks past them.
Cold eyes glowing.
Regal.
Brutal.
Unbothered.
Prince John moves near him, still keeping a safe distance from Robin.
He looks almost reverent.
The mysterious wrestler turns his head slowly toward the ring, where Will Scarlett is being helped back from further damage.
Then he looks down at Robin again.
No words.
Only judgment.
Julian Ward: “A thirty-minute draw between Will Scarlett and the Brute Bailiff has become something far more troubling. The King’s Collectors appear to have expanded their reach.”
Brick Brody: “Expanded? Julian, they just unveiled a sheriff from hell. Robin Hood came to save his man, and that big black-and-gold brute cut him off like he had jurisdiction over the aisle.”
Julian Ward: “We do not yet have a name. We do not yet know under whose authority he acts. But the message is clear. Will Scarlett and Robin Hood have been targeted. The Merry Band has been placed on notice.”
Brick Brody: “And whoever that is, he didn’t come to wrestle tonight. He came to enforce.”
Security finally separates everyone.
Brute Bailiff and Ledger Knight exit the ring together.
Prince John backs up the ramp behind them, smiling again, his confidence restored by numbers and cruelty.
The mysterious wrestler remains last.
He stands at the midpoint of the aisle, black and gold armor gleaming in the torchlight, long coat hanging like a banner of occupation.
Robin Hood is helped to one knee by officials.
Will Scarlett pulls himself against the ropes inside the ring, refusing help, glaring through pain.
The unknown wrestler looks from Robin to Will.
Then turns slowly and walks away with the King’s Collectors.
The boos follow him all the way into darkness.
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett fought Brute Bailiff to a draw, but this segment ends in anything but balance. Prince John’s forces have escalated, and Robin Hood has paid the price for loyalty.”
Brick Brody: “Will survived thirty minutes. Robin tried to do the honorable thing. And both of them got taught a lesson by men who don’t care about honor unless they can weaponize it.”
Julian Ward: “The Merry Band now faces a greater threat than one Bailiff and one ledger. There is a new presence in Camelot, and he arrived like law stripped of justice.”
TIME-LIMIT DRAW BETWEEN WILL SCARLETT AND BRUTE BAILIFF AT THE 30:00 MINUTE MARK.
The chaos begins to settle, but only because security has finally formed enough of a wall to keep the violence from spreading.
Will Scarlett is helped toward the side of the ring, one arm draped over an official’s shoulder. He keeps trying to turn back toward the aisle, refusing to fully leave under his own anger. His ribs are clearly bothering him. His jaw is clenched. His eyes remain fixed on the entrance where the attackers vanished.
Robin Hood is farther up the aisle, down on one knee, surrounded by officials. He pushes away one medic’s hand and tries to rise, but the damage from the mysterious black-and-gold attacker has left him unsteady.
The crowd is still furious.
Boos roll through Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum like stones thrown at a castle gate.
Then the camera cuts backstage.
Hana Nakamura stands in one of the stone interview corridors, microphone in hand. The torchlight behind her flickers against the old walls, but the space feels different tonight.
More occupied.
More controlled.
Behind Hana stands Prince John.
Smiling.
Pleased.
Untouched by shame.
At his right stands Brute Bailiff, still breathing heavily from the match, hands flexing as if the beating has not satisfied him.
At his left stands Ledger Knight, posture rigid, silent, helmeted presence fixed toward the camera like judgment awaiting signature.
Prioress Malveil stands slightly behind them, veiled and severe, hands folded with religious calm. Her expression carries the quiet cruelty of someone who believes mercy is a defect of weak souls.
And at the center of them all stands the new arrival.
The Sheriff of Nottingham.
Towering.
Regal.
Authoritarian.
He wears heavy black and gold armor beneath a long flowing coat that hangs from his shoulders like a banner of lawful oppression. His body is immense, built like a fortress given command. His eyes glow cold beneath a stern brow, not fiery, not wild, but pale and merciless.
He does not fidget.
He does not breathe with the adrenaline of the fight.
He simply stands, as if his presence alone has already brought the corridor under occupation.
Hana looks from one face to another before raising the microphone.
Hana Nakamura: “Prince John… moments ago, the match between Will Scarlett and Brute Bailiff ended in a thirty-minute draw, but what happened afterward was anything but finished. Ledger Knight joined Brute Bailiff in attacking Will Scarlett, and when Robin Hood tried to make the save, this man attacked him in the aisle. Who is he, and what exactly are we looking at here?”
Prince John steps forward with theatrical offense, placing one hand lightly over his chest.
Prince John: “Hana Nakamura, how predictably small your question is. You say attacked. I say intercepted. You say chaos. I say correction. You say violence. I say lawful procedure finally restored to a Coliseum that has indulged outlaws for far too long.”
Hana keeps the microphone steady, though her eyes flick toward the Sheriff.
Hana Nakamura: “Robin Hood was blindsided.”
Prince John smiles wider.
Prince John: “Robin Hood was apprehended.”
The crowd can be heard booing from the arena feed.
Prince John turns slightly, presenting the Sheriff with both hands like he is unveiling a royal decree made flesh.
Prince John: “Allow me to introduce the newest and most essential member of the King’s Hand. A man whose name has made thieves tremble, whose office carries weight beyond peasant songs, whose authority does not ask permission from Sherwood, Camelot, or any rabble with a green shirt and an inflated sense of moral entitlement.”
He pauses, savoring every word.
Prince John: “The Sheriff of Nottingham.”
The boos from the arena grow louder.
The Sheriff does not react.
Hana turns toward him, carefully extending the microphone.
Hana Nakamura: “Sheriff… why are you here in Dark Fable?”
The Sheriff of Nottingham slowly lowers his gaze to Hana.
When he speaks, his voice is deep, controlled, and cold. There is no wasted emotion in it.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Because Camelot has mistaken rebellion for virtue.”
A heavy silence settles in the corridor.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “For too long, the Merry Band has been celebrated as if theft becomes noble when wrapped in forest green. They hide behind songs. They hide behind loyalty. They hide behind the word freedom, as all lawless men do when judgment finally finds them.”
He turns his eyes toward the camera.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Robin Hood is not a hero. He is an outlaw.”
The crowd boos thunderously.
The Sheriff’s expression remains unchanged.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Will Scarlett is not courageous. He is insubordinate.”
Hana shifts her stance, visibly uncomfortable but composed.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Friar Tuck is not righteous. He is complicit.”
The Sheriff leans slightly toward the camera.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Little John is not loyal. He is muscle in service of disorder.”
Brute Bailiff nods once behind him.
Ledger Knight remains still.
Prioress Malveil closes her eyes briefly, as if savoring the condemnation.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “I have come to bring order back to Camelot. I have come to bring the Merry Band to justice.”
The words land with cold finality.
Hana raises the microphone again.
Hana Nakamura: “Justice? What happened out there looked like an ambush.”
Prince John immediately steps in, offended again.
Prince John: “Ambush is the language of guilty men who dislike consequences. The Merry Band has terrorized authority under the mask of folk legend. The King’s Hand exists to correct such indulgence.”
Hana Nakamura: “The King’s Hand?”
Prince John’s smile becomes sharper.
Prince John: “Yes. The King’s Hand. The instrument through which proper order reaches those who refuse summons, refuse payment, refuse obedience, and refuse the simple dignity of knowing their place.”
He gestures proudly to each member.
Prince John: “Brute Bailiff collects what is owed.”
Brute Bailiff cracks his knuckles.
Prince John: “Ledger Knight records what cannot be denied.”
Ledger Knight inclines his head slightly.
Prince John: “Prioress Malveil sanctifies the sentence.”
Prioress Malveil’s eyes open.
Prioress Malveil: “Mercy without submission is vanity.”
Prince John gives a satisfied nod.
Prince John: “And now, the Sheriff of Nottingham enforces the law.”
The Sheriff stands taller.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Where Robin Hood runs, I will follow.”
He looks straight through the camera.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Where Will Scarlett speaks, I will silence.”
The crowd boos harder.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Where the Merry Band gathers, I will break the gathering.”
Hana looks unsettled, but she presses.
Hana Nakamura: “The Merry Band has fought for people who had no protection from men like Prince John.”
Prince John’s face hardens instantly.
Prince John: “Careful.”
Hana does not back away.
Hana Nakamura: “That is what they would say. That is what this crowd believes.”
Prince John steps closer, but the Sheriff raises one armored hand.
Prince John stops.
The Sheriff looks at Hana again.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Crowds believe many things.”
A pause.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Crowds believed Robin Hood would reach the ring.”
The line hangs there.
The arena boos in the background.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Belief is not law.”
Hana lowers the microphone slightly as the corridor becomes colder with that sentence.
Then the arena sound shifts.
A low bell tolls.
Once.
The crowd reaction changes immediately.
The camera cuts back toward the entranceway.
Inside the Coliseum, the lights dim toward the stage.
Alton Bell walks out.
Measured.
Calm.
Unhurried.
He wears a dark suit, hands relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable. He does not stomp. He does not shout. He does not rush.
He simply arrives.
And somehow, the building tightens around him.
The crowd cheers, not warmly, but with the desperate relief of people watching authority confront authority.
Backstage, Prince John’s smile fades slightly as he looks toward a nearby monitor.
The King’s Hand turns toward the screen.
Alton Bell stands at the top of the entranceway with a microphone already in hand.
Alton Bell: “Prince John.”
His voice is even.
Not loud.
It carries anyway.
Alton Bell: “You have made your declaration.”
The crowd quiets enough to listen.
Alton Bell: “You have introduced your Sheriff. You have framed assault as procedure. You have spoken of order while leaving wreckage in your wake.”
He pauses.
No anger.
No strain.
Alton Bell: “Very well.”
Backstage, Prince John watches closely.
The Sheriff of Nottingham does not move.
Alton Bell: “Dark Fable does not reject consequence. It requires it.”
A measured reaction rolls through the crowd.
Alton Bell: “So next week, your new instrument of order will be placed where instruments belong.”
Alton’s eyes narrow slightly.
Alton Bell: “In use.”
The crowd grows louder.
Alton Bell: “Next week, live in this ring, the Sheriff of Nottingham will make his in-ring arrival alongside the King’s Collectors.”
The arena begins to buzz.
Prince John’s jaw tightens.
Alton Bell: “Sheriff of Nottingham, Brute Bailiff, and Ledger Knight…”
The crowd boos the names.
Alton pauses long enough for the sound to pass.
Alton Bell: “Against Will Scarlett, Friar Tuck, and Little John.”
The Coliseum erupts.
The camera cuts backstage.
Hana’s eyes widen.
Prince John looks furious but quickly tries to smooth it into royal disgust.
Brute Bailiff rolls his shoulders.
Ledger Knight remains motionless.
The Sheriff of Nottingham finally shows the faintest trace of expression.
Not fear.
Interest.
Alton continues from the stage.
Alton Bell: “If you have come to bring the Merry Band to justice, Sheriff, then next week you will be given the ring, the witnesses, and the accused.”
He turns his head slightly, as if addressing the entire group through the arena walls.
Alton Bell: “Bring your order.”
A pause.
Alton Bell: “They will bring their resistance.”
The crowd cheers.
Alton lowers the microphone slightly, then raises it once more.
Alton Bell: “And Dark Fable will decide what survives contact.”
His music does not play.
He simply turns and exits.
The camera returns to Hana and the King’s Hand.
Prince John breathes through his nose, visibly insulted.
Prince John: “How typical. Mr. Bell mistakes administrative power for royal wisdom.”
Hana raises the microphone.
Hana Nakamura: “Prince John, your response to next week’s match?”
Prince John slowly regains his smile.
Prince John: “My response is gratitude.”
That draws another wave of boos from the arena.
Prince John: “Alton Bell has done what weak administrators so often do. He has mistaken a punishment for an opportunity. Next week, Will Scarlett does not receive revenge. Friar Tuck does not receive redemption. Little John does not receive a heroic return to balance.”
He steps beside the Sheriff.
Prince John: “They receive arraignment.”
The Sheriff takes the microphone from Hana’s hand without asking.
Hana lets it go, eyes fixed on him.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Tell Robin Hood to watch closely.”
The Sheriff looks into the lens.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Tell Will Scarlett to bring whatever courage remains after tonight.”
A pause.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Tell Friar Tuck to pray with urgency.”
Brute Bailiff smiles grimly.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Tell Little John that size is not sanctuary.”
The Sheriff hands the microphone back to Hana.
Sheriff of Nottingham: “Next week, the sentence begins.”
Prince John turns away first.
Brute Bailiff follows.
Ledger Knight steps after them with slow, precise movement.
Prioress Malveil lingers long enough to look at Hana.
Prioress Malveil: “Order always sounds cruelest to those who have benefited from disorder.”
She exits.
The Sheriff of Nottingham remains last.
He looks once more into the camera.
Cold eyes glowing.
Then he turns, long black-and-gold coat sweeping behind him, and follows the King’s Hand into the corridor shadows.
Hana stands alone for a moment.
She exhales softly, then turns back toward the camera.
Hana Nakamura: “Next week… the Sheriff of Nottingham steps into the ring with Brute Bailiff and Ledger Knight against Will Scarlett, Friar Tuck, and Little John. After what we just saw, that does not feel like a match announcement. It feels like a warning.”
The camera cuts back to commentary.
Julian Ward: “The King’s Hand has grown stronger tonight. Prince John has revealed the Sheriff of Nottingham, a figure who speaks of law, but arrived through ambush. Alton Bell has answered with a six-man match next week, and that ring may become the first true battlefield between imposed order and outlaw resistance.”
Brick Brody: “I’ll tell you what I saw, Julian. I saw a new monster in black and gold armor flatten Robin Hood like he was late on taxes. I saw Prince John smile like a rat in a crown. And I saw Alton Bell throw the doors open for next week. That six-man is going to be ugly.”
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett has survived thirty minutes with Brute Bailiff, but the war around him has expanded. The Merry Band now has a Sheriff at its heels.”
The camera lingers on the empty corridor where the King’s Hand disappeared.
Torchlight flickers.
The shadows seem more orderly now.
And more dangerous.
The camera returns to the ring as the unease from the King’s Hand still hangs over Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.
The crowd has not fully recovered from what happened to Will Scarlett and Robin Hood.
There are still chants for the Merry Band.
There are still boos aimed toward the entranceway where Prince John and the Sheriff of Nottingham disappeared.
But now the ring waits for another trial.
Louie Linville stands centered on the canvas.
His posture is formal.
His voice is solemn.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is scheduled for one fall.”
A low thunderclap rolls through the arena.
The lights turn white-gold.
The big screen shows storm clouds parting over marble columns.
Zeus emerges first.
He carries himself with divine arrogance, not as a manager asking for attention, but as a god assuming it is owed. His eyes sweep across the crowd with open disdain.
Behind him comes Athena.
She steps into view with cold precision. Her armor-inspired gear gleams beneath the torchlight. Her movements are controlled, efficient, and without wasted flourish. She does not acknowledge the boos. She does not perform for them.
She studies the ring like a battlefield already mapped.
Zeus walks beside her, proud and severe, as if he has brought war itself into Camelot.
Julian Ward: “Athena enters with Zeus, and there is no mystery in her approach. She does not come seeking applause. She comes seeking advantage.”
Brick Brody: “That’s why I like her. She looks at the ring and sees terrain. Corners. Angles. Weakness. Maid Marion better not walk in thinking heart beats strategy.”
Athena climbs the steps and enters between the ropes.
Zeus remains at ringside, hands behind his back, watching like a king reviewing troops.
The lighting changes.
The gold fades.
Green torchlight fills the entranceway.
A forest drumbeat rises.
The crowd responds immediately.
Maid Marion steps through the curtain.
She carries herself with calm defiance. There is no crown on her head, no armor of command, but there is resolve in her eyes. Sherwood green and fighting brown. Wrapped wrists. A steady stride.
She pauses at the top of the aisle and looks toward the crowd.
The cheers rise louder.
Marion then turns her eyes to Athena.
There is no fear there.
Only awareness.
She has seen what happened to Will Scarlett.
She has seen what is happening to the Merry Band.
And she still walks forward.
Julian Ward: “Maid Marion comes into this match under the weight of everything that has happened tonight. Will Scarlett was attacked. Robin Hood was ambushed. The Merry Band has been targeted.”
Brick Brody: “That makes Marion dangerous, but it also makes her vulnerable. Emotion gives you fire. It also makes you step into traps.”
Marion enters the ring and takes her corner.
Athena stands motionless across from her.
Zeus smiles faintly from ringside.
Louie Linville steps forward.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first… accompanied to the ring by Zeus… from the high halls of Olympus, forged in wisdom, war, and conquest… ATHENA!”
Athena raises one arm, calm and severe.
The boos are heavy.
Louie Linville: “And her opponent… from Sherwood’s loyal heart, standing for those who refuse to kneel when the powerful demand silence… MAID MARION!”
The crowd cheers.
Marion nods once.
“Honest” Abe checks both competitors.
Zeus leans near the apron, speaking softly to Athena.
Abe warns him to stay back.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Maid Marion opens with a flapjack, trying to put Athena down quickly and disrupt that controlled posture.”
Brick Brody: “Good start. Don’t let Athena start arranging the furniture. Hit her before she makes the ring a war map.”
Julian Ward: “Athena answers with the Owl Wing Backbreaker, the tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, driving Marion across the knee.”
Brick Brody: “That is the kind of counter that changes a match. Athena just told Marion every mistake goes through the spine.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Marion attacks low with a low-angle front dropkick, targeting Athena’s base.”
Brick Brody: “Smart. You take the legs out from under a strategist, she has to fight from the floor like everyone else.”
Julian Ward: “But Athena again catches her in motion and turns it into another Owl Wing Backbreaker.”
Brick Brody: “Same answer twice. That’s not luck. That is a pattern being established.”
Julian Ward: “Athena is already targeting Marion’s back. That could become the story of this match if Marion cannot change the rhythm.”
Brick Brody: “It already is the story. Marion just hasn’t paid the full price yet.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Athena looks for the Pallas Drop, the gorilla press slam, but Marion neutralizes it before Athena can fully extend her.”
Brick Brody: “That was important. If Athena gets her overhead, Marion lands wherever Athena decides. That is a bad arrangement.”
Julian Ward: “Marion avoids the bigger power move and earns herself a moment to reset.”
Brick Brody: “She needed that. Athena was starting to put blueprints on her ribs.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Marion goes for a bulldog, but Athena reverses it.”
Brick Brody: “Athena saw it coming. That is the danger.”
Julian Ward: “Oracle’s Curse from Athena. Sleeper slam connects, and Marion is driven hard into the canvas.”
Brick Brody: “Beautiful. Cruel. Efficient. She took Marion’s movement and turned it into impact.”
Julian Ward: “Athena covers. One — two — Marion kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Early two-count. That tells you Athena’s offense is already heavy enough to threaten the finish.”
Julian Ward: “Marion survives, but Athena has established control.”
Brick Brody: “And Zeus knows it. Look at him. He’s smiling like thunder just signed a contract.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Both women pause through a defensive exchange before Marion fires another low-angle front dropkick.”
Brick Brody: “Marion keeps going low. She knows she has to chop Athena down.”
Julian Ward: “Athena again responds with the Owl Wing Backbreaker. That is the third time Marion has been driven across the back.”
Brick Brody: “Three times is not coincidence. Athena has found the target and she is going to keep hammering it until Marion can’t stand straight.”
Julian Ward: “Marion’s face shows the cumulative damage now.”
Brick Brody: “Back pain changes everything. Breathing, lifting, turning. Even courage gets sore.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Athena catches Marion clean with Wisdom’s Wrath, the Pedigree. Marion cannot defend it.”
Brick Brody: “That was a statement. Head down, body driven, pride flattened.”
Julian Ward: “Athena scores the most decisive impact of the match so far.”
Brick Brody: “If I’m Marion, I’m hearing bells. If I’m Athena, I’m wondering how many more it takes.”
Athena rises slowly.
Zeus applauds once at ringside.
Marion pushes herself up, slower now.
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “A defensive lull from both competitors, but Zeus now interjects from ringside with what appears to be the Olympian Eye.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the god sticking his lightning into mortal business.”
Julian Ward: “Marion absorbs the pressure, but she appears shaken. Athena does not score directly from it, but Marion has been forced onto defense.”
Brick Brody: “That’s enough sometimes. Zeus doesn’t need to hit her. He just needs to make her hesitate while Athena lines up the spear.”
Julian Ward: “Abe warns Zeus, but the effect has already settled over the match.”
Brick Brody: “Honest Abe can warn him all he wants. Zeus looks like a man who considers warnings a form of tribute.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Athena takes advantage. Huntress Spear connects, and Marion could not defend.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. Zeus clouds the room, Athena drives through the opening.”
Julian Ward: “Marion is still on defense, and Athena is converting pressure into physical damage.”
Brick Brody: “That spear folded Marion in half. The back, the ribs, the breath — all of it is getting taxed.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Athena drives in with another Huntress Spear. Marion absorbs it, but she cannot mount a response.”
Brick Brody: “Second spear in a row. That’s battlefield repetition. If the wall cracks, hit the crack again.”
Julian Ward: “Marion’s resilience is evident, but Athena’s control has grown firmer with each minute.”
Brick Brody: “Resilience is not a plan. It’s what you need when the plan is failing.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Athena looks for Wisdom’s Wrath again, but Marion neutralizes it. She prevents the full impact this time.”
Brick Brody: “That might have saved the match for her. Another clean Pedigree there, and we might be scraping Sherwood off the canvas.”
Julian Ward: “Marion finally escapes the defensive stretch. The question now is whether she can build offense through the damage already done.”
Brick Brody: “Her back is bad. Her ribs are worse. But she’s still in it. That counts.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Marion lands a low-angle front dropkick, again attacking Athena’s base.”
Brick Brody: “Same idea, and it’s still the right one.”
Julian Ward: “But Zeus creates a thunderous distraction from ringside. Marion’s momentum is interrupted immediately.”
Brick Brody: “That old lightning vulture picked his moment.”
Julian Ward: “Abe turns toward Zeus, and Marion is forced back onto defense.”
Brick Brody: “That’s managerial work. Cheap, loud, and effective.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Athena capitalizes with Wisdom’s Wrath. The Pedigree lands, and Marion absorbs the full punishment.”
Brick Brody: “That one was bad. Zeus made the noise, Athena brought the impact.”
Julian Ward: “Marion is still on defense. Athena has used every distraction as a doorway to more damage.”
Brick Brody: “That’s why Athena is dangerous. She does not waste the opening. Zeus cracks the sky, she cracks the opponent.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Athena follows with the Owl Wing Backbreaker. Another tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, and Marion could not stop it.”
Brick Brody: “Backbreaker again. This is systematic now.”
Julian Ward: “Marion’s back has been the focus since the opening minute, and Athena’s discipline has not wavered.”
Brick Brody: “Discipline wins fights when the other person is trying to survive on fire and heart.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “Athena powers Marion up for the Pallas Drop, the gorilla press slam, and this time she completes it.”
Brick Brody: “That is power and control. Marion had nowhere to go.”
Julian Ward: “Athena covers. One — two — Marion kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “That kickout had guts in it. Maybe not much air, but plenty of guts.”
Julian Ward: “Athena expected more from that cover. Marion’s refusal to stay down is beginning to frustrate her.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Frustration is one of the few weapons left to Marion right now.”
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “A defensive pause gives Marion a narrow chance, and she seizes it with a surprise small package.”
Brick Brody: “There you go. When you’re getting beaten down, steal the whole thing if you can.”
Julian Ward: “Athena rolls through enough to answer with a Shield Bash, shoulder thrust in the corner.”
Brick Brody: “Athena did not like being surprised. That shoulder went in like a warning.”
Julian Ward: “Marion nearly changed the match with that small package, but Athena’s response was immediate.”
Brick Brody: “That was Marion’s opening. Not a big one, but real. She needs more of those and fast.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “After another defensive exchange, Athena tries to apply the Gorgon Clutch, a rear chinlock with the knee driven into Marion’s back.”
Brick Brody: “That is nasty after all those backbreakers. Put the knee into the damage and make her carry it.”
Julian Ward: “Marion neutralizes it before Athena can fully settle the hold.”
Brick Brody: “That is survival with good instincts. If Athena locked that in, Marion would have been trapped in her own pain.”
Julian Ward: “Marion has prevented some decisive moments, but she still needs sustained offense.”
Brick Brody: “And time is not the only enemy. Her body is starting to vote against her.”
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Both women slow through multiple defensive reads. Marion finally attempts a flapjack, but Athena neutralizes it.”
Brick Brody: “Athena is reading her now. Marion’s offense is getting harder to hide.”
Julian Ward: “Athena prevents the lift and keeps Marion from building the kind of momentum she needs.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the strategy. Do not let the heroic comeback get past the first sentence.”
Minute 18
Julian Ward: “Marion breaks through with a Lou Thesz press. She drives Athena down and unloads enough pressure to finally shift the crowd back into this.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the kind of fight Marion needed. No perfect plan. Just jump on her and make the goddess deal with fists.”
Julian Ward: “Athena failed to defend cleanly, and Marion has found life.”
Brick Brody: “Now keep it ugly. Pretty has not worked.”
The crowd rises.
Marion pushes up, wincing through her damaged back.
Zeus steps closer to the ring, eyes narrowing.
Minute 19
Julian Ward: “Marion follows with another low-angle front dropkick. Athena could not stop it, and she drops to one knee.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. Chop the base. Make the strategist fight from the floor.”
Julian Ward: “Marion has strung together two important minutes. The crowd senses a possible turn.”
Brick Brody: “And Zeus senses it too. Look at him. He’s not smiling now.”
Marion pulls herself upright and gestures for Athena to stand.
Athena rises slowly, expression colder than before.
Minute 20
Julian Ward: “Marion steps in with Kiss Goodnight, the roundhouse kick. It lands.”
Brick Brody: “She caught her. That was clean.”
Julian Ward: “But Athena absorbs enough to answer. Wisdom’s Wrath. Pedigree connects again.”
Brick Brody: “Oh, that cut the comeback in half.”
Julian Ward: “Athena rolls Marion over and covers.”
Brick Brody: “That might be it.”
Julian Ward: “One — two — three. Athena has defeated Maid Marion.”
The bell rings.
The crowd boos heavily, though some of the sound carries reluctant respect for the fight Marion gave.
Athena rises to one knee, breathing hard but composed.
Zeus steps onto the apron, looking pleased again, as though the outcome was always a matter of proper timing.
“Honest” Abe checks on Marion briefly before raising Athena’s hand.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner… ATHENA!”
Athena stands over Marion for a moment.
She does not mock her.
She studies her.
That may be worse.
Zeus enters the ring and stands beside Athena, looking down at Marion with divine contempt.
Marion rolls toward the ropes, holding her back, still trying to pull herself up despite the loss.
The crowd chants for her.
“MAR-I-ON! MAR-I-ON! MAR-I-ON!”
Athena hears it.
She turns away.
Zeus says something quietly to her, and she exits with him, leaving Marion to the officials and the sound of the crowd.
Julian Ward: “Athena has defeated Maid Marion, and she did it through structure. She attacked the back early, returned to it often, and used Zeus’s presence to turn hesitation into opportunity.”
Brick Brody: “Marion fought with guts. She fought hurt. She almost made the comeback when she started throwing herself into the fight instead of trying to out-plan Athena. But Athena had the better map, and Zeus kept moving the road signs.”
Julian Ward: “A difficult loss for Maid Marion on a night where the Merry Band has already suffered heavily. But she did not break. She endured a calculated assault and forced Athena to earn the final blow.”
WINNER: ATHENA DEFEATS MAID MARION VIA PINFALL WITH WISDOM’S WRATH AT THE 20:00 MINUTE MARK.
The camera returns to the ring.
The energy inside Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum has changed again.
The Merry Band has been wounded.
Athena has claimed victory.
The Sheriff of Nottingham has arrived.
And now the Mythic Crown Champion is coming.
The lights over the ring dim to a sickly green-gray.
A low mechanical thrum begins beneath the arena sound.
Not music.
A laboratory heartbeat.
A flash of lightning cracks across the big screen.
Then another.
Then the image of the Mythic Crown appears, not shining with royal warmth, but lit by stormfire and shadow.
Louie Linville stands in the ring, solemn and still.
The entranceway fills with smoke.
Dr. Frankenstein appears first.
He walks with hunched intensity, hair wild, eyes alive with scientific arrogance and paternal possession. He clutches the Mythic Crown Title as if it is both proof and prophecy.
Behind him comes Frankenstein’s Monster.
The Champion.
Massive.
Silent.
A tower of stitched muscle and dead strength.
His face is expressionless, but that absence is not empty. It is heavier than rage. His shoulders roll slowly as he walks, each step making the aisle feel less like a path and more like ground being claimed.
The crowd boos, but there is fear beneath it.
Dr. Frankenstein raises the Mythic Crown Title beside the Monster and points toward the ring like he is sending history’s mistake to correct the living.
Julian Ward: “The Mythic Crown Champion enters for non-title competition, but there is no such thing as a harmless appearance from Frankenstein’s Monster. Every match he takes now casts a shadow toward The Long Night and King Arthur.”
Brick Brody: “Non-title just means the belt is not on the line. It does not mean Lion’s ribs are safe. That creature does not know the difference between a match and a demolition.”
Frankenstein’s Monster steps over the top rope.
Dr. Frankenstein remains outside, clutching the Mythic Crown Title to his chest.
The lights shift.
Gold breaks through the green-gray gloom.
A low roar sounds through the arena.
The crowd begins to cheer.
Lion steps through the entranceway.
He stands upright, proud, broad-chested, and unafraid.
His gear carries gold and earth tones, with a mane-like collar framing his shoulders. His eyes are locked on the Monster from the moment he appears. There is no hesitation. No theatrical bravado.
Only courage.
The fans rise with him.
“LI-ON! LI-ON! LI-ON!”
Lion pounds one fist against his chest and starts down the aisle.
Julian Ward: “Lion walks into this match knowing the risk. He is giving up size, mass, and championship momentum. But he is not giving up courage.”
Brick Brody: “Courage is admirable. It is also what gets brave men thrown into the third row. Lion better bring claws with that heart.”
Lion enters the ring and stands across from Frankenstein’s Monster.
The difference in size is obvious.
But Lion does not step back.
Dr. Frankenstein laughs softly at ringside, shaking his head as if courage itself is an outdated superstition.
Louie Linville steps forward.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is a non-title match.”
The crowd reacts strongly.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first… accompanied to the ring by Dr. Frankenstein… he is the reigning Mythic Crown Champion… stitched from death, powered by wrath, and standing as the crown’s most terrible burden… FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER!”
Dr. Frankenstein lifts the title high.
The boos rise.
Frankenstein’s Monster does not acknowledge them.
Louie Linville: “And his opponent… from the path of courage where fear is met face to face… proud, unbroken, and roaring before the impossible… LION!”
The crowd cheers.
Lion raises both arms, then lowers them and squares up.
“Honest” Abe checks both competitors.
The Monster does not move.
Lion bounces lightly on his feet, trying to keep motion alive before the bell.
Abe signals.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Lion begins boldly. He goes high immediately for Lion’s Leap, the top rope splash, trying to test the Champion before Frankenstein’s Monster can settle into his power.”
Brick Brody: “That’s guts. Maybe too much guts, but I get it. Hit the monster before the monster remembers how small you are.”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster neutralizes the attempt. He absorbs the danger, shifts enough to prevent the full impact, and Lion crashes without finding the damage he needed.”
Brick Brody: “That is a terrible sign. Lion threw courage off the top rope, and the Monster barely had to move.”
Julian Ward: “The Champion rises slowly, and already Lion has discovered how difficult it will be to make him react.”
Brick Brody: “React? The Monster reacts like a cliff. You run into him, and the cliff wins.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Lion stays aggressive. Courageous Claw to the face. He rakes across the Champion’s head and upper face, trying to create any visible response.”
Brick Brody: “That’s better. Don’t wrestle polite with a dead man. Scratch, claw, chop, bite if you have to.”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster absorbs the punishment. No stagger. No panic. Lion lands the strike, but the Champion’s body language barely changes.”
Brick Brody: “That is the problem. Lion is scoring damage. The Monster is processing it like weather.”
Dr. Frankenstein shouts from ringside.
Dr. Frankenstein: “Observe, Lion! Courage is only chemistry pretending to be virtue!”
Lion turns briefly toward Dr. Frankenstein, then back to the Monster.
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster catches Lion now. Deadweight Drop. Sidewalk slam with enormous force.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. The first time the Monster really gets his hands on him, Lion gets planted like a fence post.”
Julian Ward: “Lion absorbs the punishment, but that impact shook the ring.”
Brick Brody: “It shook the ring because the Champion does not slam people. He deposits them.”
Julian Ward: “The pace has slowed instantly, and that favors Frankenstein’s Monster.”
Brick Brody: “Everything favors Frankenstein’s Monster when he gets to touch you.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Lion fires back with knife edge chops. He is attacking the chest, trying to build sound, pain, rhythm, anything that can force the Champion backward.”
Brick Brody: “Chop him until your hand goes numb. That’s not a bad plan.”
Julian Ward: “The chops land, and the crowd responds with every strike.”
The crowd chants with the impact.
“WOO!”
“WOO!”
“WOO!”
Julian Ward: “But again, Frankenstein’s Monster absorbs the punishment.”
Brick Brody: “Lion is showing heart. Monster is showing he may not have one to hit.”
Dr. Frankenstein smiles from ringside and taps the Mythic Crown Title.
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Dr. Frankenstein has climbed onto the apron. He is distracting ‘Honest’ Abe, and the referee’s attention is drawn away.”
Brick Brody: “That twitchy lunatic can’t help himself. He has a champion built like a nightmare and still wants to meddle.”
Julian Ward: “Lion uses the moment to lock in a full nelson. He has the arms trapped. Lion is trying to test the Monster’s neck and shoulders.”
Brick Brody: “Now that is interesting. You cannot outmuscle him forever, but maybe you can trap the structure.”
Julian Ward: “Lion straps in the full nelson. He is pulling hard. The crowd is rising.”
Brick Brody: “Squeeze, Lion. Make the laboratory experiment answer a human question.”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster does not submit. He refuses to bend. He is trapped, but not broken.”
Brick Brody: “That hold would make most men panic. The Monster looks inconvenienced.”
Dr. Frankenstein drops from the apron and shouts toward Lion.
Dr. Frankenstein: “He does not yield! He was built beyond surrender!”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “After a brief defensive exchange, Frankenstein’s Monster creates space and drops a heavy elbow across Lion. Lion cannot defend against it.”
Brick Brody: “That elbow came down like a slab from a tomb.”
Julian Ward: “Lion takes the full weight of it. The Champion is beginning to impose that crushing rhythm.”
Brick Brody: “That’s where he becomes terrifying. Not quick. Not flashy. Just heavy. Again and again until the other man becomes smaller.”
Julian Ward: “Lion rolls to his side, clutching the ribs.”
Brick Brody: “Those ribs are going to be a problem. The Monster’s offense does not leave polite bruises.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster clubs Lion with Heavy Hand, a back smash that drives him down.”
Brick Brody: “That is not a strike. That is construction work.”
Julian Ward: “But Lion answers. Lion’s Leap connects this time. Top rope splash lands across the Champion.”
Brick Brody: “There we go. He got him. He finally got all of it.”
Julian Ward: “The crowd erupts as Lion gets meaningful impact from the air.”
Brick Brody: “Now move. Do not admire it. You hit the Monster once, you keep hitting him until the building starts believing with you.”
Frankenstein’s Monster rolls to one knee.
Lion pulls himself up, breathing hard.
For the first time, the Champion looks briefly slowed.
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster answers with the Graveyard Slam, a brutal body slam that brings Lion down hard.”
Brick Brody: “And there goes the hope getting bounced off the mat.”
Julian Ward: “Lion fired back with knife edge chops in the exchange, but the Graveyard Slam had the greater force.”
Brick Brody: “Lion can sting him. The Monster can crush him. That difference is getting louder.”
Julian Ward: “Dr. Frankenstein is yelling instructions from ringside, demanding the Champion keep pressing.”
Brick Brody: “Instructions? Please. You point the Monster at something and hope your own shoes aren’t in the way.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Lion attempts a brainbuster. That is ambitious against someone of Frankenstein’s Monster’s size.”
Brick Brody: “Ambitious is one word. Insane is shorter.”
Julian Ward: “The Champion neutralizes it. Lion could not get the lift, and Frankenstein’s Monster shuts down the attempt.”
Brick Brody: “You cannot brainbuster a wall unless the wall helps you. The Monster did not help.”
Julian Ward: “That failed lift may have cost Lion more energy than he could afford.”
Brick Brody: “Exactly. Sometimes the move you do not hit hurts you more than the one you take.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster drops another elbow. Lion answers with a brainbuster attempt again, and this time he manages to connect enough to create impact.”
Brick Brody: “I’ll give Lion credit. That was stubborn and impressive. He got the big man over enough to matter.”
Julian Ward: “Both men score heavily in that exchange. Lion may have found a brief surge from sheer determination.”
Brick Brody: “Determination is keeping him alive. But look at him. Every breath is expensive now.”
The crowd begins chanting.
“LI-ON! LI-ON! LI-ON!”
Frankenstein’s Monster sits up slowly.
Lion’s eyes widen slightly.
The Champion rises.
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster goes right back to the elbow drop. Lion cannot defend this one.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the Champion’s answer to a comeback. He does not speed up. He does not panic. He just returns to the damage.”
Julian Ward: “Lion absorbs it, but his body is wearing down. The ribs, the back, the chest, all have been punished.”
Brick Brody: “Lion has courage. No question. But courage does not add padding to your bones.”
Julian Ward: “The Monster stands over him now.”
Brick Brody: “That is a terrible view to wake up under.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster grabs Lion and throws him out of the ring. Lion lands hard on the floor.”
Brick Brody: “That was not an Irish whip. That was disposal.”
Julian Ward: “Lion tries to fight back with knife edge chops during the sequence, but the Champion has sent him to the outside, and ‘Honest’ Abe begins the count.”
Brick Brody: “Now the count matters. Lion’s hurt, and the Monster knows he does not have to chase him.”
Julian Ward: “One… two… three…”
Lion pulls himself toward the apron.
Dr. Frankenstein steps nearby, not touching him, but looming with the Mythic Crown Title in his hands.
Dr. Frankenstein: “Rise, brave beast! Rise and prove courage is not merely a failing of the nervous system!”
Julian Ward: “Four… five… six…”
Lion gets one knee under him.
The crowd is willing him upward.
“LI-ON! LI-ON! LI-ON!”
Brick Brody: “Get up, Lion. Crawl if you have to.”
Julian Ward: “Seven… eight…”
Lion reaches for the apron.
Frankenstein’s Monster stands inside the ring, unmoving, watching through dead calm.
Julian Ward: “Nine…”
Lion pulls, but his body gives out against the edge of the ring.
Julian Ward: “Ten. Lion has been counted out.”
The bell rings.
The crowd boos the finish, then shifts into applause for Lion’s effort.
Frankenstein’s Monster remains inside the ring, expression unchanged.
Dr. Frankenstein throws both arms into the air, the Mythic Crown Title raised high.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner… as a result of a count-out… the Mythic Crown Champion… FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER!”
Dr. Frankenstein enters the ring with the title and places it over the Monster’s shoulder.
Lion is still outside, breathing hard, one hand gripping the apron.
Officials move toward him.
Frankenstein’s Monster looks down at him from inside the ring.
Not with triumph.
Not with hatred.
Simply as if Lion is now part of the evidence.
Dr. Frankenstein leans over the ropes.
Dr. Frankenstein: “Courage reached nine, Lion. Science reached forever.”
The crowd boos.
Frankenstein’s Monster steps over the top rope and exits.
For one tense second, it looks as if he may go after Lion again.
But Dr. Frankenstein places one hand against the Monster’s chest and gestures toward the title.
The Monster stops.
The Champion turns away.
Lion pulls himself to his feet with help from the apron, still wounded, still upright.
The crowd cheers him.
Frankenstein’s Monster walks up the aisle with the Mythic Crown Title on his shoulder, every step heavy with The Long Night’s approaching shadow.
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster wins by count-out, and while Lion showed courage, there is no escaping the deeper message. The Mythic Crown Champion did not need a decisive pinfall to impose his will. He threw Lion from the ring, allowed the count to become judgment, and watched the outcome arrive.”
Brick Brody: “That was cold. That was champion cold. Lion fought hard. He landed the splash. He even tried to muscle up the Monster for a brainbuster. But the Monster kept answering with weight, with elbows, with slams, and finally with one throw that left Lion unable to beat the count.”
Julian Ward: “As King Arthur prepares for The Long Night, this image matters. Frankenstein’s Monster is not merely powerful. He is patient in destruction. He does not chase validation. He waits for bodies to fail.”
WINNER: FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER DEFEATS LION VIA COUNT-OUT AFTER A THROW OUT OF RING AT THE 12:00 MINUTE MARK.
The camera follows Frankenstein’s Monster and Dr. Frankenstein as they make their way up the aisle.
The Mythic Crown Title rests over the Monster’s shoulder.
Dr. Frankenstein walks beside him, still energized by the count-out victory over Lion, his hands moving as he speaks into the Monster’s ear like a scientist guiding a weapon back into containment.
The crowd boos.
Some cheer for Lion, who is being helped near ringside.
But then—
The sound changes.
A heavy guitar riff tears through the Coliseum.
Steel striking timber.
A deep industrial drumbeat.
Then the roar.
The big screen flashes with the image of a massive axe splitting through a black tree trunk.
The crowd rises as one.
“TTTIIIIIIIIMMMMMMBBBBEEEERRRR!!!”
Jack Lumber steps onto the stage.
The Convergent Champion has arrived in Camelot.
He stands broad and composed under the torchlight, the Convergent Championship slung over one shoulder. He does not rush. He does not pose wildly. His expression is focused, calm, and carved out of hard-earned confidence.
The roar grows louder.
Jack looks down the aisle.
Frankenstein’s Monster stops.
The two champions stare at one another.
The air tightens.
Dr. Frankenstein’s expression twists from triumph into wary irritation.
Jack Lumber takes a slow step forward.
Frankenstein’s Monster takes one slow step up the ramp.
For a moment, the aisle feels too narrow to hold both men.
Jack’s eyes move to the Mythic Crown Title.
Then he taps the Convergent Championship on his own shoulder.
The crowd erupts.
Frankenstein’s Monster responds without expression.
He raises the Mythic Crown Title.
Not high.
Just enough.
A silent answer from one champion to another.
Julian Ward: “Two champions crossing paths in Camelot. Frankenstein’s Monster, the Mythic Crown Champion, and Jack Lumber, the Convergent Champion of HCW.”
Brick Brody: “That is a lot of gold and a lot of bad intentions in one aisle. Jack just tapped that title like a man saying, remember this. The Monster raised his like a man saying, I do not need to.”
Dr. Frankenstein steps between the moment before it can become something physical.
He places a hand against the Monster’s chest and speaks quickly, sharply.
Dr. Frankenstein: “Not now. Not this specimen. Not this hour. The crown has already proven enough tonight.”
Frankenstein’s Monster does not look away from Jack.
Jack does not look away from the Monster.
Then Dr. Frankenstein prods the Monster along with urgency masked as control.
The Monster finally turns and continues toward the back.
Jack watches him go.
Then he turns toward the ring.
Hana Nakamura waits inside, microphone in hand.
The crowd is still chanting.
“LUM-BER! LUM-BER! LUM-BER!”
Jack walks down the aisle, calm but intense, taking in the full weight of Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum. He steps up onto the apron, looks once more toward the stage where Frankenstein’s Monster disappeared, then enters the ring.
Hana raises the microphone as Jack’s music fades.
Hana Nakamura: “Jack Lumber… welcome to Dark Fable.”
The crowd cheers again.
Jack gives a small nod, still holding the Convergent Championship over his shoulder.
Hana Nakamura: “The last time we heard from you, Mordred had made his intentions clear. He called for you. He claimed the Convergent Championship belongs in his hands. Tonight, you are here in Camelot. What is your answer?”
Hana offers him the microphone.
Jack takes it.
He does not speak right away.
He lets the crowd settle.
His eyes move across the Coliseum.
Then to the hard camera.
Jack Lumber: “Mordred.”
The name draws a heavy reaction.
Boos.
Anger.
Anticipation.
Jack lowers his chin slightly.
Jack Lumber: “I heard you.”
A pause.
Jack Lumber: “I heard the threats.”
Another pause.
Jack Lumber: “I heard the prophecy.”
The crowd quiets around the measured weight of his words.
Jack Lumber: “I heard all that talk about bloodlines, betrayal, crowns, destiny, and what you think the world owes you.”
Jack shifts the Convergent Championship on his shoulder.
Jack Lumber: “And I’ll tell you the same thing I said before.”
He steps forward.
Jack Lumber: “I don’t answer to summons.”
The crowd cheers hard.
Jack waits through it.
Jack Lumber: “But I do answer challenges.”
A stronger cheer rolls through the Coliseum.
Julian Ward: “Jack Lumber is not a man easily pulled into another man’s mythology. He is defining this on his terms.”
Brick Brody: “That’s good, because if you let Mordred define the fight, you are already standing in the grave he picked out.”
Jack looks down briefly at the Convergent Championship.
His hand rests on the faceplate.
Jack Lumber: “You said this title doesn’t belong to me.”
He lifts it slightly.
Jack Lumber: “Wrong.”
The crowd cheers.
Jack Lumber: “In my world, I fought for it.”
A beat.
Jack Lumber: “I bled for it.”
Another step forward.
Jack Lumber: “And I earned it.”
The crowd roars.
Jack’s voice remains steady.
Not wild.
Not reckless.
Grounded.
Jack Lumber: “This championship is not some trinket you can reach across worlds and take because you wrapped your hands in darkness and called it destiny.”
He raises the title higher now.
Jack Lumber: “This is the Convergent Championship.”
The crowd cheers the title.
Jack Lumber: “It was made to stand where worlds meet.”
Jack turns slightly, taking in Camelot.
Jack Lumber: “So here I am.”
A pause.
Jack Lumber: “Standing where worlds meet.”
The Coliseum begins to buzz.
Jack Lumber: “You wanted me in Camelot?”
Jack looks into the camera.
Jack Lumber: “You got me.”
Crowd pop.
Jack Lumber: “You wanted the champion to come through the door?”
He taps the title again.
Jack Lumber: “Door’s open.”
Jack’s expression hardens.
Jack Lumber: “But understand something, Mordred.”
A pause.
Jack Lumber: “You don’t get this because you want it.”
He steps closer to the ropes.
Jack Lumber: “You don’t get this because you were denied another crown.”
The crowd reacts sharply, remembering Mordred’s failures and obsessions.
Jack Lumber: “You don’t get this because you stand in the dark and talk like the ending already belongs to you.”
Jack lifts the title again.
Jack Lumber: “You get a shot at this because I’m giving you one.”
The crowd cheers.
Jack Lumber: “And that shot happens at The Long Night.”
The Coliseum erupts.
Hana’s eyes widen with the confirmation.
Julian Ward: “There it is. Jack Lumber has confirmed it. At The Long Night, the Convergent Championship will be defended against Mordred.”
Brick Brody: “That is a dangerous yes. That is the kind of yes that gets a man surrounded by wolves.”
Jack waits until the reaction settles enough to speak again.
Jack Lumber: “May thirty-first.”
Another cheer.
Jack Lumber: “The Long Night.”
He raises the Convergent Championship.
Jack Lumber: “Jack Lumber.”
A pause.
Jack Lumber: “Mordred.”
The crowd boos Mordred’s name again.
Jack Lumber: “Convergent Championship on the line.”
Jack lowers the belt back to his shoulder.
Jack Lumber: “And when I walk into that ring, I’m not coming as a visitor.”
His eyes narrow.
Jack Lumber: “I’m not coming as a stranger.”
A beat.
Jack Lumber: “I’m not coming as some champion you can drag out of another world and use to decorate your resentment.”
Jack steps to the center of the ring.
Jack Lumber: “I’m coming with the axe.”
The crowd builds.
Jack Lumber: “I’m coming with the title.”
He lifts the belt high.
Jack Lumber: “And I’m coming to remind you that a man who keeps chasing crowns he hasn’t earned…”
Jack leans slightly toward the camera.
Jack Lumber: “…usually ends up underneath the tree when it falls.”
The crowd explodes.
“TTTIIIIIIIIMMMMMMBBBBEEEERRRR!!!”
Jack keeps the title raised.
Hana steps back, smiling despite the danger of the moment.
Hana Nakamura: “Jack Lumber has made it official. The Convergent Championship will be defended at The Long Night against Mordred.”
Then the lights cut.
Not fully.
Just enough.
The cheer dies into alarm.
A black-red glow seeps across the entranceway.
The crowd begins booing before anyone appears.
Sir Agravaine emerges first.
The Inquisitor.
Cold-eyed.
Rigid.
Righteousness twisted into accusation.
Behind him come the Dread Knights.
Two armored enforcers moving in grim unison.
Then Mordred steps out.
The Betrayer of Blood.
Dark prince.
He does not hurry.
He looks at Jack Lumber with the quiet satisfaction of a trap closing.
Jack lowers the title.
Hana retreats toward the ropes, immediately sensing what this is becoming.
Julian Ward: “Mordred is here, and he has not come alone.”
Brick Brody: “Of course he hasn’t. Mordred doesn’t walk into a fight when he can send shadows in first.”
Agravaine points toward the ring.
The Dread Knights move.
Jack hands the Convergent Championship to Hana.
Jack Lumber: “Get clear.”
Hana takes the title and quickly exits through the ropes, clutching it carefully as she backs away toward the timekeeper’s area.
Jack stands center ring.
Agravaine slides in first.
Jack meets him immediately with a right hand.
The crowd erupts.
One Dread Knight climbs onto the apron.
Jack knocks him down with a forearm.
The second Dread Knight enters from the opposite side.
Jack turns and catches him with a boot to the midsection, then drives punches into the helmeted figure’s body.
Agravaine charges again.
Jack ducks and throws him over the top rope.
For a moment, Jack is holding them off.
The crowd roars.
Julian Ward: “Jack Lumber is fighting back. One man against Mordred’s forces, and he is refusing to yield.”
Brick Brody: “That’s not a promo champion. That’s a fighting champion. But numbers are numbers, Julian.”
Mordred finally enters.
Jack turns toward him.
The two men lock eyes.
Jack steps forward.
The Dread Knight behind him clips the leg.
Jack drops to one knee.
Agravaine rushes back in and drives a strike across Jack’s back.
The second Dread Knight clubs him from the side.
Now the numbers take over.
The crowd boos viciously.
Jack fights from his knees, throwing body shots, refusing to cover up completely.
Mordred watches for a moment.
Then he steps in and drives a boot into Jack’s chest.
Jack falls backward.
The Dread Knights stomp him down.
Agravaine pulls Jack up by the hair and speaks directly into his face.
Sir Agravaine: “Judgment comes for trespassers.”
Jack shoves him away and swings again, catching Agravaine on the jaw.
The crowd cheers.
But Mordred steps in from behind and drives him down.
The attack becomes a beating.
Hana, at ringside, looks horrified, still holding the Convergent Championship.
Hana Nakamura: “Somebody has to stop this!”
Mordred turns toward her.
His eyes drop to the title.
Hana freezes.
Mordred takes one step toward the ropes.
Then—
Camelot horns blast through the arena.
The crowd erupts.
Sir Lancelot storms onto the stage.
Sir Galahad follows beside him.
Sir Gawain charges out just behind them.
The three knights sprint toward the ring.
Julian Ward: “The Champions of Camelot are coming.”
Brick Brody: “Now we’ve got a fight.”
Lancelot reaches the ring first and slides in under the bottom rope.
He tackles one Dread Knight backward into the corner.
Gawain enters next and hammers the second Dread Knight with heavy right hands.
Galahad goes straight for Agravaine.
The former Eternal Flame Champion and the Inquisitor collide in the center of the ring, throwing strikes with personal venom.
Mordred backs away at first, watching the chaos bloom.
Jack Lumber pulls himself up with the ropes.
He sees Mordred.
The crowd rises.
Jack charges.
Mordred meets him.
They exchange punches.
Convergent Champion and Betrayer of Blood hammering away in the middle of the ring while the rest of Camelot explodes around them.
Julian Ward: “Jack Lumber and Mordred are trading blows. The Convergent Title match at The Long Night has already become physical.”
Brick Brody: “This is what happens when you bring another world’s champion into Camelot. Everybody wants a piece of the collision.”
Galahad drives Agravaine back with a forearm.
Agravaine answers with a knee.
Lancelot ducks a Dread Knight’s strike and sends him shoulder-first into the turnbuckles.
Gawain pulls the other Dread Knight away from Jack and throws him toward the ropes.
Jack lands a heavy shot on Mordred that staggers him.
The crowd erupts.
Mordred’s expression darkens.
He answers with a sudden strike to Jack’s throat area, enough to halt the momentum.
Security begins pouring from the back.
Officials follow.
The ring is chaos.
Hana stays at ringside, holding the Convergent Championship close, trying to avoid the spreading brawl.
Mordred reaches for Jack again, but Lancelot cuts across and strikes Mordred with a forearm.
Mordred stumbles back.
Agravaine attacks Lancelot from the side.
Galahad attacks Agravaine.
The Dread Knights surge back in.
Gawain throws himself into the pile.
Jack grabs one Dread Knight and hurls him through the ropes to the floor.
The crowd is deafening.
Julian Ward: “Security is trying to separate them, but this has become a full-scale collision between Mordred’s forces, Jack Lumber, and the Champions of Camelot.”
Brick Brody: “Good luck separating that. You’ve got betrayal, championship pride, old grudges, and four armored lunatics all swinging in the same ring.”
Security finally wedges between Jack and Mordred.
Jack keeps trying to push through.
Mordred is pulled back by one Dread Knight and Agravaine, but his eyes never leave the Convergent Champion.
Hana climbs carefully onto the apron and passes the Convergent Championship back to Jack once there is enough space.
Jack takes it and holds it against his shoulder.
He is breathing hard.
His lip is cut.
But he is still standing.
Mordred backs up the ramp with Agravaine and the Dread Knights.
Lancelot, Galahad, and Gawain stand in the ring near Jack, forming a line of resistance.
The crowd cheers the sight.
Mordred stops halfway up the aisle.
He raises one hand.
Not in retreat.
In promise.
Jack lifts the Convergent Championship high.
The crowd roars.
“TTTIIIIIIIIMMMMMMBBBBEEEERRRR!!!”
Mordred’s expression remains cold.
Agravaine points toward Galahad from the ramp, still raging.
The Dread Knights stand like dark pillars on either side.
In the ring, Jack does not lower the title.
Lancelot turns toward him and gives a short nod.
Galahad keeps his eyes locked on Agravaine.
Gawain shouts toward the Broken Crown, daring them back in.
Security holds the line.
Julian Ward: “Jack Lumber came to Camelot to accept Mordred’s challenge, and he leaves this segment with the Convergent Championship still in his possession. But the warning is unmistakable. Mordred will not wait for The Long Night to begin the war.”
Brick Brody: “Jack stood tall, but he got a taste of Camelot’s worst habits tonight. Nobody fights alone for long, and nobody bleeds alone either. Mordred tried to swarm him, Camelot answered, and now The Long Night just got a whole lot nastier.”
Julian Ward: “At The Long Night, Jack Lumber will defend the Convergent Championship against Mordred. Tonight, the contract may not have been signed on paper, but it was signed in fists, interference, and the arrival of knights unwilling to let the Betrayer of Blood rule the ring.”
Jack Lumber stands center ring with the Convergent Championship raised.
Lancelot, Galahad, and Gawain stand with him.
At the top of the ramp, Mordred stares back through the darkness.
The shot holds on the divide.
Champion and knights in the ring.
Betrayer and dread on the ramp.
The Long Night drawing closer.
The camera returns to the heart of Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.
The torches burn higher now.
Not warmer.
Higher.
The building understands the hour.
The final match of the night has arrived.
The Eternal Flame Title rests on a black velvet pedestal at ringside, its faceplate catching the torchlight in sharp gold and red flashes. It looks less like a prize than a burden with edges.
Louie Linville stands in the center of the ring, grave and formal, microphone raised.
Around the Coliseum, the crowd is already buzzing with the weight of what this match represents.
The current champion.
The two previous champions.
Sinbad enters tonight carrying the Eternal Flame Title after defeating Sandman one-on-one last week to win it.
Sandman enters as the former champion who has not forgiven the loss.
Sir Galahad enters as the champion before Sandman, the knight whose connection to the title remains carved into the division’s recent history.
Three reigns.
Three claims.
One flame.
Julian Ward: “This is not merely a Triple Threat Match. This is the living history of the Eternal Flame Title standing in one ring. Sinbad, the current champion, won that title from Sandman last week in one-on-one competition. Sandman is the champion he dethroned. Sir Galahad held the title before Sandman and now seeks to reclaim what once defined him.”
Brick Brody: “That is why this is dangerous, Julian. This is not one challenger trying to climb. This is two former champions trying to drag the current champion back down. Sinbad won the belt last week, and now he has to survive the ghosts of the last two reigns at the same time.”
A hush falls.
Then the first entrance begins.
A low bell tolls.
The lights turn pale gold.
Merlin appears first.
He steps from the entranceway in long robes, staff in hand, eyes fixed forward with the solemnity of someone who understands both victory and consequence.
Behind him comes Sir Galahad.
The crowd gives him a strong, respectful reaction.
Galahad walks with knightly focus, not arrogance. His face is controlled, but there is tension in the jaw. He is not chasing nostalgia. He is chasing restoration.
The Eternal Flame Title was once his.
He has not forgotten the weight of it.
He has not forgiven its absence.
Julian Ward: “Sir Galahad enters first, accompanied by Merlin. Galahad has carried the Eternal Flame before. For him, this title is not merely gold. It is a standard.”
Brick Brody: “And standards get heavy when somebody else is carrying them. Galahad wants to pretend this is about honor, but let’s be honest. He wants his title back.”
Galahad enters the ring and kneels briefly near the ropes.
Merlin stands at ringside, watching the title on the pedestal.
The lights shift.
The gold fades into a sick gray.
Sand begins to blow across the big screen.
A low, scraping rhythm crawls through the speakers.
Then Sandman appears.
The reaction turns hostile and anxious.
Sandman walks slowly, eyes shadowed, expression unreadable. He does not look angry in the ordinary sense. He looks sleepless. Hollow. Dangerous in the way nightmares are dangerous after the room is already dark.
He steps onto the ramp and looks at the Eternal Flame Title.
He was champion one week ago.
Now he is not.
And that absence follows him down the aisle like a wound.
Julian Ward: “Sandman enters as the former champion, defeated by Sinbad last week. That loss has not cooled him. If anything, it appears to have stripped away restraint.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Restraint is overrated in a match like this. Sandman doesn’t need to outlast a champion tonight. He needs to find one body, hold it down for three seconds, and take back what he thinks was stolen.”
Sandman steps into the ring.
He does not look at Galahad first.
He looks at the title.
Then at the entranceway.
Waiting.
The arena darkens.
Then blue and gold light breaks through like a ship lantern cutting fog.
The crowd erupts.
Sinbad steps onto the stage with the Eternal Flame Title around his waist.
The current champion.
The man who defeated Sandman one-on-one last week.
The man standing between the previous two reigns and the future of the championship.
Sinbad pauses at the top of the aisle.
He looks at Galahad.
He looks at Sandman.
Then he unfastens the title from his waist and raises it.
The Coliseum roars.
“SIN-BAD! SIN-BAD! SIN-BAD!”
Sinbad lowers the title and walks forward, focused but aware of the danger. He carries the expression of a man who has crossed violent seas before and knows the storm does not care who survived yesterday.
Julian Ward: “Sinbad’s reign begins under immediate trial. He did not receive a long celebration. He did not receive a gentle first defense. He defeated Sandman last week, and tonight he must defend against Sandman and Sir Galahad at once.”
Brick Brody: “Welcome to being champion. You get the belt, and suddenly every hungry thing in the dark has your scent.”
Sinbad enters the ring.
He steps to the center and holds the title out.
“Honest” Abe takes it, raises it high, and shows it to all three competitors.
The crowd cheers.
Galahad watches with solemn intensity.
Sandman watches like he is staring at something that still belongs to him.
Sinbad rolls his shoulders and steps back.
Louie Linville begins the introductions.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen… this is your Dark Fable main event. It is a Triple Threat Match scheduled for one fall, and it is for the Eternal Flame Championship.”
The crowd roars.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first… accompanied to the ring by Merlin… the former Eternal Flame Champion, knight of conviction, oath, and sacred burden… SIR GALAHAD!”
Galahad raises one fist.
Merlin nods once from ringside.
Louie Linville: “Introducing second… the former Eternal Flame Champion, the nightmare that does not forget, the shadow beneath the waking eye… SANDMAN!”
Sandman stands motionless, absorbing the boos.
Louie Linville: “And introducing third… he defeated Sandman last week to become the Eternal Flame Champion… sailor of impossible seas, survivor of cruel tides, and the man who carries the flame into this storm… SINBAD!”
Sinbad raises both arms.
The cheers shake the Coliseum.
Louie steps away.
Abe hands the title to the timekeeper.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Sinbad begins by going directly at Sandman with open hand chops, perhaps trying to reassert the result from last week.”
Brick Brody: “He beat Sandman once. I get why he wants to remind him. But reminding a nightmare you hurt it is not always wise.”
Julian Ward: “Sandman reverses the chops and fires back with a spin heel kick. Sinbad absorbs the punishment, but Sandman makes the first meaningful statement.”
Brick Brody: “That kick said last week is over. Sandman is not here to mourn. He is here to reclaim.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Galahad watches carefully from the side, allowing the current and former champion to open old wounds.”
Brick Brody: “Smart knight. Let them hit each other while you measure the flame.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Sandman continues the assault on Sinbad with a spinning fist strike. Sinbad absorbs it again, but he has not yet found the opening he wanted.”
Brick Brody: “Sandman is throwing strikes like he has been replaying last week in his skull every night since.”
Julian Ward: “The former champion is clearly targeting Sinbad early. He wants the man who took the title from him.”
Brick Brody: “Of course he does. Galahad may want the belt. Sandman wants the belt and the bruise where Sinbad’s name is written.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Sinbad turns now toward Sir Galahad, landing open hand chops. Galahad answers with a flying body splash.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the third man reminding everybody he did not come here to supervise.”
Julian Ward: “Sinbad lands his offense, but Galahad’s splash has the greater impact. The previous champion before Sandman is now fully in this fight.”
Brick Brody: “And that’s what makes Triple Threats miserable. You settle one grudge, and another former champion drops out of the sky.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Sandman and Sir Galahad collide now. Sandman hits Go To Sleep, while Galahad answers with a jumping reverse bulldog.”
Brick Brody: “That is two former champions trying to erase each other from the record.”
Julian Ward: “Sandman’s strike lands heavily. Galahad still completes the bulldog, but Sandman appears to get the better of the exchange.”
Brick Brody: “Sandman’s got an edge tonight. Not just anger. Urgency. He knows he might not get a cleaner road back to that title.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Sandman and Sinbad are double-teaming Sir Galahad. That alliance may be brief, but it is effective.”
Brick Brody: “No friends in a Triple Threat. Just temporary agreements between people who plan to betray each other.”
Julian Ward: “Sandman lands the spinning fist strike. Sinbad adds a cross armbreaker attack, and Galahad cannot defend against the combined pressure.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the right call. Galahad is the third history in this match. Take him out before he turns honor into a three-count.”
Julian Ward: “The double team ends quickly, but Galahad has been forced into danger.”
Brick Brody: “In a match like this, one round of teamwork can change the whole balance.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Sinbad and Sandman again find brief common cause against Galahad. Sinbad hits a running head kick, while Sandman follows with Go To Sleep.”
Brick Brody: “That is a brutal combination. Last week’s enemies working together because Galahad is in the wrong place.”
Julian Ward: “Galahad still answers with a leg hook belly-to-back suplex. Even under double pressure, he finds offense.”
Brick Brody: “That’s why he held the title. Galahad is not easy to drown, even when two men are holding his head under.”
Julian Ward: “The temporary alliance ends again, and all three men are now marked.”
Brick Brody: “And none of them trust anybody. Good. Trust is how you lose gold.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Sandman returns to Galahad with a cradle suplex. Galahad answers with Rolling Thunder into a jumping DDT.”
Brick Brody: “That was a hard exchange. Sandman is attacking the spine. Galahad is trying to spike the head.”
Julian Ward: “The former champions are fighting as if Sinbad’s current reign is only one part of the issue. There is deep title history between every corner of this match.”
Brick Brody: “That title has fingerprints on it, Julian. Everybody in there thinks they left the deepest mark.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Sandman catches Sir Galahad again with Go To Sleep. Galahad absorbs the punishment, but Sandman immediately covers.”
Brick Brody: “He wants it back right now.”
Julian Ward: “One — Galahad kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Too early for a man like Galahad, but Sandman is sending a message. He does not care which former champion, current champion, or holy man he has to pin.”
Julian Ward: “The title can change hands without Sinbad being involved in the fall. That remains the great danger for the champion.”
Brick Brody: “Exactly. Sinbad could lose everything while watching from one bad step away.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Now Sandman and Sir Galahad double-team Sinbad. Sandman hits a cradle suplex, Galahad adds the leg hook belly-to-back suplex.”
Brick Brody: “And there’s the champion’s nightmare. The last two champions just decided the current one is the problem.”
Julian Ward: “Sinbad still fights through it and lands Treasure Chest, the gutwrench suplex. He refuses to be swallowed by the numbers.”
Brick Brody: “That was big. Sinbad got hit from both sides and still threw somebody. That is champion survival.”
Julian Ward: “The double team continues for one more round, and Sinbad must stay alert.”
Brick Brody: “He better stay more than alert. He better stay violent.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “The double-team pressure continues. Sandman lands a spinning fist strike. Galahad connects with the Benadryller.”
Brick Brody: “That is ugly. Sinbad is taking shots from two eras of the same title.”
Julian Ward: “But Sinbad answers with a double knee strike, creating impact of his own.”
Brick Brody: “That is why he won the title last week. He has that burst when the tide should be pulling him under.”
Julian Ward: “The double team ends, and all three men are showing damage.”
Brick Brody: “Nobody leaves clean when the flame is up for grabs.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Sinbad and Sandman now turn back to Sir Galahad. Sinbad hits an inverted tornado DDT, and Sandman adds a standing clothesline.”
Brick Brody: “Again, enemies for a heartbeat, partners for a purpose.”
Julian Ward: “Galahad still responds with another leg hook belly-to-back suplex. He continues to find offense under pressure.”
Brick Brody: “Galahad is stubborn in the way only holy men and fools can be. Tonight, it might be both.”
Julian Ward: “Sinbad and Sandman’s uneasy cooperation disappears as soon as the exchange ends.”
Brick Brody: “It has to. One of them took the title from the other seven days ago. That does not heal because Galahad is inconvenient.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Sandman and Sir Galahad are double-teaming Sinbad again. Sandman hits the running bulldog. Galahad adds a jumping reverse bulldog.”
Brick Brody: “They are trying to drive the champion’s head into the canvas until the reign falls out.”
Julian Ward: “Sinbad answers with open hand chops, fighting from underneath while the previous champions press him.”
Brick Brody: “Chops are defiance. But defiance has to turn into control, or it just leaves red marks on the way down.”
Julian Ward: “The double team continues for one more round. Sinbad is trapped in the center of the title’s past.”
Brick Brody: “That is a great line, Julian. Also a terrible place to stand.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Sandman and Galahad continue against Sinbad. Cradle suplex by Sandman. Leg hook belly-to-back suplex by Galahad.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a nasty rhythm. Sandman folds him, Galahad turns him, and the champion keeps landing badly.”
Julian Ward: “Sinbad answers with an inverted facelock backbreaker. He is taking damage, but he is still producing offense.”
Brick Brody: “Sinbad is not going quietly. I’ll give him that. The problem is that he is fighting two men who both know what that title feels like around their waist.”
Julian Ward: “The double team ends, and the champion finally gets space.”
Brick Brody: “Space is good. Oxygen is better. A weapon would be best.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “Sir Galahad catches Sandman with a jumping reverse bulldog. Sandman attempts to defend, but he is unsuccessful.”
Brick Brody: “Galahad got him clean there. That might be the former champion before the former champion telling Sandman he is not the only man with a claim.”
Julian Ward: “Galahad has been forced to endure double teams, but he remains dangerous when he isolates an opponent.”
Brick Brody: “That knight is hard to put away because his pride is wrapped in discipline. You have to break both.”
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “Sinbad and Sir Galahad now double-team Sandman. Sinbad lands a discus back elbow, Galahad adds a jumping reverse bulldog.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. Everybody gets a turn being outnumbered.”
Julian Ward: “Sandman answers with a front kick, refusing to allow the double team to erase him from the match.”
Brick Brody: “That front kick is simple and mean. No poetry. Just boot and consequence.”
Julian Ward: “The alliance ends, and the match returns to three separate claims on one title.”
Brick Brody: “And that is when it gets dangerous. Tired men stop making alliances and start swinging at whatever moves.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “Sir Galahad and Sinbad exchange offense now. Galahad hits the leg hook belly-to-back suplex. Sinbad answers with a short-arm lariat.”
Brick Brody: “Champion and former champion meeting in the middle with no shortcuts.”
Julian Ward: “Both men connect evenly. Galahad’s suplex and Sinbad’s lariat each land with force.”
Brick Brody: “Sinbad needs to watch where Sandman is. You get focused on Galahad, and the nightmare comes from the side.”
Merlin pounds the apron once, calling to Galahad.
Sandman is rising near the ropes.
Sinbad turns slightly, trying to track both men.
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Sandman steps in. Front kick to Sinbad.”
Brick Brody: “He caught him.”
Julian Ward: “Sinbad absorbs the punishment, but Sandman drops down into the cover immediately.”
Brick Brody: “Champion’s shoulders are down.”
Julian Ward: “One — two — three.”
The bell rings.
For a moment, the arena does not fully understand.
Then the reaction hits.
Shock.
Boos.
Some cheers from those stunned by the suddenness.
Sinbad rolls to his side, eyes wide, realizing what has happened.
Sir Galahad turns too late.
Merlin lowers his head.
Sandman rises slowly from the cover.
His expression does not change much.
But his eyes do.
They lock onto the Eternal Flame Title.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner… and the new Eternal Flame Champion… SANDMAN!”
The crowd erupts into a fractured response.
Sinbad sits against the ropes, breathing hard, disbelief and frustration on his face. He had won the title from Sandman last week. Now Sandman has pinned him directly to take it back.
“Honest” Abe receives the Eternal Flame Title from the timekeeper.
He presents it to Sandman.
Sandman takes the title with both hands.
For one second, he simply stares at it.
Then he raises it.
The torchlight catches the faceplate.
Red-gold fire across cold eyes.
Sir Galahad stands in the opposite corner, jaw tight. He was not pinned. He was not submitted. But he has failed to reclaim the title.
Sinbad pulls himself up slowly, staring at Sandman.
The former champion from last week is champion again.
The current champion’s reign has been extinguished almost as soon as it began.
Julian Ward: “Sandman has done it. One week after losing the Eternal Flame Title to Sinbad in a one-on-one match, Sandman has pinned Sinbad in this Triple Threat and reclaimed the championship.”
Brick Brody: “That is brutal. That is the cruelest kind of full circle. Sinbad beat him last week, walked in tonight as champion, and Sandman kicked him down and took the flame right back.”
Julian Ward: “This match contained the current champion and the previous two champions, and in the end, it is Sandman who restores himself to the top of that lineage. Sir Galahad was inches away from the story, but the decisive fall was Sandman over Sinbad.”
Brick Brody: “Galahad can complain that he wasn’t pinned. He’d have a point. Sinbad can say he just won it last week. He’d have a point too. But the only point that matters is the referee counted three while Sandman had the champion’s shoulders down.”
Sandman lowers the title and looks toward Sinbad.
Sinbad stands now, one hand on the ropes, chest rising and falling.
He does not look away.
Sandman raises the title again, this time directly toward him.
No words.
Just reclamation.
Merlin enters the ring beside Galahad, speaking quietly into his ear. Galahad’s eyes remain fixed on the Eternal Flame Title.
Three men.
Three claims.
Only one champion.
Julian Ward: “A title reign begins again tonight, but not cleanly in spirit. Sinbad’s triumph from last week has been answered with immediate loss. Galahad remains unresolved. And Sandman leaves Camelot with the Eternal Flame Title once more in his possession.”
Brick Brody: “That flame does not warm anybody, Julian. It burns whoever carries it. Tonight, it burned Sinbad fast.”
Julian Ward: “The Eternal Flame has changed hands again, and Dark Fable ends its main event with the title back in the hands of the nightmare who refused to remain former champion.”
WINNER: SANDMAN DEFEATS SINBAD AND SIR GALAHAD VIA PINFALL ON SINBAD WITH A FRONT KICK AT THE 17:00 MINUTE MARK TO BECOME THE NEW ETERNAL FLAME CHAMPION.
SEGMENT 12 — CLOSING
The camera returns from the aftermath of the main event.
Sandman is gone.
The Eternal Flame Title is gone with him.
But the image remains.
Sinbad sitting against the ropes, no longer champion.
Sir Galahad standing with Merlin, unpinned and unresolved.
Sandman raising the flame again only one week after losing it.
The Coliseum is still unsettled.
Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum has seen too much tonight to settle easily.
The camera finds Julian Ward and Brick Brody at commentary.
Julian sits composed, but the gravity of the night is clear in his face.
Brick leans forward, elbows near the desk, eyes still fixed on the ring as though waiting for another fight to break out.
Julian Ward: “Tonight, Dark Fable opened with consequence, and it ends with consequence. Sandman has reclaimed the Eternal Flame Title, pinning Sinbad in the center of this ring just one week after Sinbad defeated him one-on-one to become champion. The current champion entered against the previous two champions, and when the final count came, the title returned to the nightmare who refused to remain in the past.”
Brick Brody: “That’s what this place does, Julian. It does not let anybody breathe. Sinbad wins the title last week, walks in with the flame, and seven days later Sandman kicks him down and takes it back. Galahad didn’t get pinned, Sinbad got burned, and Sandman walks out holding gold like the whole thing was just a bad dream he woke up from.”
Julian Ward: “The Eternal Flame division has become one of the most volatile battlegrounds in the Mythic Division. Sinbad, Sandman, and Sir Galahad have now all held that championship in close succession, and none of those claims feel truly finished.”
Brick Brody: “That belt is not changing hands like a trophy. It is changing hands like a weapon. Everybody who touches it gets cut.”
The camera cuts briefly to a replay.
Sandman’s front kick.
Sinbad falling.
The cover.
One.
Two.
Three.
Sandman receiving the Eternal Flame Title.
The image fades back to commentary.
Julian Ward: “And that was only the final piece of tonight’s story. Earlier tonight, Jack Lumber arrived in Camelot as the HCW Convergent Champion. He crossed paths with Frankenstein’s Monster, the Mythic Crown Champion, in a moment that carried enormous tension between two worlds and two titles.”
Brick Brody: “I liked that. Jack tapped that Convergent Title. The Monster raised the Mythic Crown. No speeches. No nonsense. Just two champions looking at each other like they were deciding whether the aisle had enough room for both of them.”
Julian Ward: “Jack Lumber then came to this ring and made it official. At The Long Night, he will defend the Convergent Championship against Mordred.”
Brick Brody: “And Mordred answered the way cowards with soldiers always answer. Agravaine, the Dread Knights, the ambush, the swarm. Jack fought like a champion, but numbers are numbers until Lancelot, Galahad, and Gawain came charging down here.”
Julian Ward: “The Champions of Camelot stood with Jack Lumber tonight, and that may have prevented something far worse. But Mordred’s message was clear. The Convergent Championship match at The Long Night has already begun in spirit, if not yet by bell.”
The camera cuts to replay.
Jack Lumber standing nose-to-nose with Frankenstein’s Monster in the aisle.
Jack tapping the Convergent Title.
The Monster raising the Mythic Crown.
Jack’s promo.
Mordred and the Broken Crown attack.
The Champions of Camelot making the save.
The replay ends on Jack raising the Convergent Title while Mordred stares from the ramp.
Julian Ward: “We also saw the arrival of a new and dangerous presence in Camelot. The Sheriff of Nottingham revealed himself as the newest member of the King’s Hand.”
The crowd boos at the mention.
Brick Brody: “That man walked in like law learned how to break bones. Black and gold armor, cold eyes, and Robin Hood got flattened before he ever reached the ring. That was not a debut. That was an arrest.”
Julian Ward: “Will Scarlett fought Brute Bailiff to a thirty-minute time-limit draw, but the King’s Hand turned the aftermath into a calculated assault. Ledger Knight joined Brute Bailiff in beating down Will. Robin Hood attempted to intervene and was cut off by the Sheriff of Nottingham.”
Brick Brody: “And then Prince John stood there acting like an ambush was paperwork. I hate that rat, but I’ll say this — the King’s Hand is dangerous now. Brute Bailiff collects, Ledger Knight records, Prioress Malveil sanctifies, and the Sheriff enforces. That is a bad machine.”
Julian Ward: “Alton Bell responded with a ruling for next week. Will Scarlett, Friar Tuck, and Little John will face the Sheriff of Nottingham, Brute Bailiff, and Ledger Knight in the main event.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Put them in the ring. Let the law they keep bragging about meet Sherwood’s fists.”
The camera cuts to replay.
The post-match assault on Will.
Robin sprinting down the aisle.
The Sheriff of Nottingham intercepting him.
The backstage interview with Hana Nakamura.
Alton Bell’s announcement.
The replay ends on the Sheriff’s cold stare into the camera.
Julian Ward: “Elsewhere tonight, Alice earned a major victory over Morgana Le Faye. But that match carried another layer. Lilith came to ringside, joined commentary, and her presence clearly fractured Morgana’s focus.”
Brick Brody: “Alice won that match. Let’s be clear. She hit Wonderland’s End and pinned Morgana. But Lilith? Lilith walked down here and poisoned Morgana’s concentration just by sitting near us. That is champion-level cruelty.”
Julian Ward: “At The Long Night, Morgana Le Faye challenges Lilith for the Queen of North Title. Tonight, Lilith did not strike Morgana. She did not need to. She observed. She taunted. She exposed something.”
Brick Brody: “And Morgana hated it because it worked.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel also opened the night with a hard-fought victory over the Cheshire Cat, surviving Mad Hatter’s interference and finishing the match with a belly-to-belly suplex.”
Brick Brody: “Hansel got blinded, baited, choked, and twisted around, and still caught the Cat and threw him flat. That kid didn’t solve Wonderland. He survived it.”
Julian Ward: “Athena defeated Maid Marion, using her precision and Zeus’s presence to wear down Marion’s back before finishing her with Wisdom’s Wrath.”
Brick Brody: “Marion fought hard, but Athena had a plan and Zeus kept moving the shadows. That is a rough night for the Merry Band from top to bottom.”
Julian Ward: “And Frankenstein’s Monster defeated Lion by count-out in non-title action. Lion showed courage, but the Mythic Crown Champion imposed his power, his patience, and his indifference.”
Brick Brody: “Lion had heart. The Monster had mass, damage, and that dead patience that makes him terrifying. King Arthur better watch that match closely. The Monster does not chase you. He waits for your body to stop obeying.”
The camera cuts to a slow montage of the night.
Hansel pinning Cheshire Cat.
Alice pinning Morgana.
Lilith smiling from commentary.
Will Scarlett and Brute Bailiff reaching the time limit.
The Sheriff of Nottingham destroying Robin Hood.
Athena pinning Maid Marion.
Frankenstein’s Monster watching Lion fail to beat the count.
Jack Lumber raising the Convergent Title.
Sandman reclaiming the Eternal Flame Title.
The montage fades into a graphic:
MYTHIC SUPER HOUSE SHOW
MAY 19
The crowd reacts as the graphic fills the screen.
Julian Ward: “And the path does not slow from here. On May nineteenth, the Mythic Division presents a Mythic Super House Show, and the card will carry major implications for next week’s Dark Fable.”
Brick Brody: “That house show is not a side road. It is a battlefield with consequences.”
The first match graphic appears.
YUREI RINN vs. LADY GUINEVERE
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn will face Lady Guinevere, a clash of shadowed violence and royal resolve.”
Brick Brody: “Guinevere better be ready. Yurei Rinn does not come to test character. She comes to leave people colder than she found them.”
The next graphic appears.
KING ARTHUR vs. KAEN
Julian Ward: “King Arthur steps into singles action against Kaen. As The Long Night approaches, every match Arthur takes becomes a message to Frankenstein’s Monster.”
Brick Brody: “And Kaen is not a tune-up. That man brings fire and impact. Arthur wants to prove he is ready for the Monster, he better not overlook the flame in front of him.”
The next graphic appears.
SAYAKA MIZUHANA vs. SERPENTA VEYNE
Julian Ward: “Sayaka Mizuhana meets Serpenta Veyne in a match rich with factional tension and technical danger.”
Brick Brody: “Serpenta can talk you into a trap and then wrestle you into one. Sayaka better keep her head clear.”
The next graphic appears.
#1 CONTENDERS MATCH FOR THE ETERNAL FLAME TITLE
SINBAD vs. SIR GALAHAD
Winner receives title shot on next week’s Dark Fable
The Coliseum reacts strongly.
Julian Ward: “Perhaps the most immediate consequence of the Super House Show: Sinbad faces Sir Galahad in a number one contenders match for the Eternal Flame Title. The winner receives a championship opportunity on next week’s Dark Fable.”
Brick Brody: “That is perfect. Sinbad just got pinned and lost the title. Galahad wasn’t pinned and still walked out empty. Both men have an argument. Only one gets the next shot.”
Julian Ward: “And waiting for the winner may be Sandman, newly restored as Eternal Flame Champion.”
Brick Brody: “That flame is not cooling down. It is getting meaner.”
The next graphic appears.
DREAD KNIGHTS vs. SCALEKEEPERS
Julian Ward: “The Dread Knights will face the Scalekeepers, another contest where power, intimidation, and positioning may shape the road ahead.”
Brick Brody: “The Dread Knights were part of Mordred’s attack tonight. If the Scalekeepers want to make a statement, they have two armored targets ready-made.”
The final Super House Show graphic appears.
ETERNAL FLAME TITLE MATCH
SANDMAN vs. TAKUMA RYUJIN
The crowd rises.
A hard reaction moves through the Coliseum.
Julian Ward: “And in the main event of the Mythic Super House Show, Sandman will defend the Eternal Flame Title against Takuma Ryujin.”
Brick Brody: “That is nasty. Sandman just got the title back, and now he has to defend it against Takuma. That is not a celebration. That is punishment with ticket sales.”
Julian Ward: “Takuma has drawn significant support in this building tonight, and his discipline, striking, and calm under pressure could make him an immediate threat to Sandman’s renewed reign.”
Brick Brody: “Could? Julian, Takuma is a threat the moment he steps through the curtain. Sandman better not spend too much time admiring his reclaimed title, because the dragon is waiting.”
The Mythic Super House Show graphic fades.
A new graphic appears:
NEXT WEEK ON DARK FABLE
The crowd cheers.
Julian Ward: “Then, next week on Dark Fable, the Eternal Flame Title will be defended again. The challenger will be determined by the results of the Mythic Super House Show.”
Brick Brody: “Which means Sandman might be looking at Sinbad again, Galahad again, or depending on that house show, this whole thing could get even messier before the opening bell.”
The next graphic appears.
KING ARTHUR, SIR LANCELOT & SIR GAWAIN
vs.
FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER, KONG & OGRE
The crowd rumbles with anticipation.
Julian Ward: “King Arthur, Sir Lancelot, and Sir Gawain will face Frankenstein’s Monster, Kong, and Ogre in a six-man collision. That brings the Champions of Camelot directly against Dr. Frankenstein’s monstrous empire.”
Brick Brody: “That is a war preview. Arthur gets the Monster before The Long Night, but he also gets Kong and Ogre in the bargain. That ring is going to need reinforced corners.”
Julian Ward: “For Arthur, it will be a chance to feel the Champion’s force firsthand. For Frankenstein’s Monster, another opportunity to turn the coming title match into dread.”
The next graphic appears.
LADY GUINEVERE vs. MORGANA LE FAYE
Julian Ward: “Lady Guinevere will face Morgana Le Faye. After Morgana’s loss tonight and Lilith’s taunting, one has to wonder what state Morgana will be in next week.”
Brick Brody: “Angry. Embarrassed. Dangerous. That is a bad combination for Guinevere. But Guinevere is no easy target, and if Morgana walks in distracted again, she might get humbled twice.”
The final graphic appears.
MAIN EVENT
WILL SCARLETT, FRIAR TUCK & LITTLE JOHN
vs.
SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM, BRUTE BAILIFF & LEDGER KNIGHT
The crowd boos loudly at the King’s Hand names, then cheers the Merry Band.
Julian Ward: “And in next week’s main event, Will Scarlett, Friar Tuck, and Little John face the Sheriff of Nottingham and the King’s Collectors, Brute Bailiff and Ledger Knight.”
Brick Brody: “That one is going to be a fight with paperwork and bruises. The Sheriff says he came to bring the Merry Band to justice. Next week, justice gets tested in a six-man brawl.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood was stopped tonight before he could reach the ring. Will Scarlett was beaten down after thirty minutes of battle. Next week, the Merry Band brings numbers of its own.”
Brick Brody: “And the Sheriff brings that black-and-gold punishment. I want to see if Little John can move him. I want to see if Friar Tuck can slow him. And I want to see Will Scarlett get another shot at the men who tried to collect him.”
The graphic fades.
The camera returns to commentary for the final time.
The ring behind them sits empty now.
But it does not feel peaceful.
It feels used.
Marked.
Waiting.
Julian Ward: “Tonight began with the crowd rallying behind Sinbad, Will Scarlett, Takuma Ryujin, Alice, and Hansel. By the end, some of those names had risen, some had suffered, and some now stand on the edge of greater trials.”
Brick Brody: “That is Dark Fable. Support does not protect you. Cheers do not shield your ribs. Every hero tonight either bled, got outnumbered, got tested, or lost something.”
Julian Ward: “Hansel survived Wonderland. Alice defeated Morgana Le Faye. Will Scarlett fought to a draw and was left wounded by the King’s Hand. Maid Marion fell to Athena. Lion could not beat the count against Frankenstein’s Monster. Jack Lumber stood in Camelot and accepted Mordred’s challenge. And Sandman reclaimed the Eternal Flame Title.”
Brick Brody: “That is a full night of damage. The kind of damage that does not stay in one episode.”
Julian Ward: “On May nineteenth, the Mythic Super House Show may reshape next week’s championship landscape. And next week on Dark Fable, Camelot faces monsters, queens face sorcery, and the Merry Band meets the Sheriff’s law inside the ring.”
Brick leans closer to the desk.
Brick Brody: “Bring bandages. Bring backups. Bring bad intentions. Because order, flame, crown, and curse are all colliding now.”
Julian looks toward the ring one final time.
Julian Ward: “For Brick Brody, I am Julian Ward. Tonight, the Eternal Flame returned to Sandman. The Sheriff of Nottingham came to Camelot. The Convergent Champion answered Mordred. And The Long Night drew closer.”
The camera rises slowly from the commentary desk.
The final shot takes in Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.
The ring sits beneath fading torchlight.
On the big screen, the final images flicker one by one.
Sandman holding the Eternal Flame Title.
The Sheriff of Nottingham standing over Robin Hood.
Jack Lumber raising the Convergent Championship.
Frankenstein’s Monster lifting the Mythic Crown.
Then darkness.
Only the torches remain.
Then they go out.
The screen is black.
No music.
Only breath.
Ragged.
Measured.
Pain trying to become discipline.
A thin line of light appears.
Then another.
Then another.
Reflections.
Not from glass.
From something older.
Colder.
The camera opens inside a chamber of black mirrors.
The walls are tall and seamless, rising into darkness. Each mirror reflects the chamber at a slight wrong angle. Raigen is stretched in one. Shortened in another. His face fractured across three surfaces. His shoulders too broad in one reflection. His eyes too hollow in the next.
He stands barefoot on polished black stone.
His ribs are still bandaged from the earlier trials.
Bruising marks his shoulder.
Dried blood sits at the edge of one lip.
He does not look healed.
He looks repaired enough to continue.
The door behind him closes.
No lock sounds.
It does not need one.
Raigen turns slowly.
Every mirror turns with him.
Some reflections lag behind by half a second.
Some move before he does.
At the far end of the chamber, Sensei Kagehito stands in shadow.
Still.
Unmoved.
His hands rest inside his sleeves.
His face reveals nothing.
Kagehito: “Enter.”
Raigen’s eyes narrow.
Raigen: “I am already inside.”
Kagehito does not blink.
Kagehito: “No.”
A pause.
Kagehito: “You are still outside yourself.”
The words settle.
Raigen looks toward the mirrors.
One reflection does not match the others.
It stands straighter.
Cleaner.
Older, but not aged.
A version of Raigen before the Blood Oni fully consumed him.
Before brutality became his language.
Before obedience hardened into survival.
This other Raigen wears simpler gear. His posture is balanced. His breathing is calm. No blood at his lip. No violence in the shoulders. No distortion in the eyes.
Human.
Disciplined.
Honorable.
The mirror surface ripples.
The cleaner Raigen steps out.
Bare feet touch the black stone.
Raigen does not move at first.
The two stand across from one another.
Same face.
Different histories.
Kagehito’s voice comes from the darkness.
Kagehito: “Third trial.”
A pause.
Kagehito: “Reflection.”
The cleaner Raigen raises his hands into a perfect fighting stance.
Formal.
Traditional.
Controlled.
Raigen slowly mirrors it.
Same angle.
Same guard.
Same breath.
For a moment, they are identical.
Then the cleaner Raigen attacks.
Fast.
Precise.
A palm strike to the chest.
Raigen blocks late.
A low sweep.
Raigen hops back.
A wrist trap into a shoulder turn.
Raigen counters with the same movement, trying to match him exactly.
The cleaner Raigen is already gone.
He steps inside and strikes Raigen beneath the ribs.
Raigen grunts.
The sound echoes through every mirror.
The reflections show it again and again.
Raigen struck.
Raigen late.
Raigen failing.
The cleaner Raigen catches his arm, turns his hip, and throws him hard onto the black stone.
Raigen lands on his back.
The bandages across his ribs pull tight.
He rolls to one knee, breathing through pain.
The cleaner Raigen does not press wildly.
He waits.
Balanced.
Honorable.
Better.
Raigen rises.
He copies the stance again.
Cleaner this time.
More exact.
He moves in.
They exchange strikes.
Palm.
Block.
Kick.
Check.
Elbow.
Deflect.
For several seconds, Raigen keeps pace.
Then the cleaner version changes rhythm.
Not faster.
Truer.
A perfect feint draws Raigen’s guard high.
A body kick lands.
A spinning back elbow follows.
Raigen stumbles into a mirror.
The mirror does not break.
It shows him younger for one second.
A boy with fear in his eyes.
Then the reflection changes.
A kneeling student.
Then a Blood Oni weapon.
Then Raigen now.
Damaged.
Confused.
Angry.
He pushes off the mirror and charges.
The cleaner Raigen sidesteps.
Knee to the gut.
Forearm across the back.
Raigen drops to one hand.
The cleaner version grabs him by the shoulder and throws him again.
Raigen hits the floor harder this time.
Kagehito’s voice cuts through the chamber.
Kagehito: “You are still pretending.”
Raigen’s fingers curl against the stone.
He lifts his head.
Blood runs from his mouth now.
His eyes move toward Kagehito.
Raigen: “I copied the stance.”
Kagehito: “Yes.”
Raigen’s jaw tightens.
Raigen: “I copied the form.”
Kagehito: “Yes.”
The cleaner Raigen waits, expression calm.
Kagehito steps half a pace forward, still mostly in shadow.
Kagehito: “That is the failure.”
Raigen breathes harder.
Kagehito: “You borrow shape.”
A pause.
Kagehito: “You borrow rage.”
Another pause.
Kagehito: “You borrow purpose.”
Raigen slowly stands.
Kagehito: “The Syndicate taught you to obey pain.”
The mirrors flicker.
Lord Kurogami’s shadow appears in one reflection.
Kaminari Hono in another.
Yurei Rinn in another.
Then all are gone.
Kagehito: “Your enemies taught you to resist it.”
Raigen’s eyes sharpen slightly.
Kagehito notices the reaction, but does not understand its source.
Kagehito: “And now you stand here trying to become the man you were before either side named you.”
Raigen looks at the cleaner version of himself.
The cleaner Raigen raises his guard again.
Kagehito’s voice lowers.
Kagehito: “That man is dead.”
The words hit harder than the strikes.
Raigen’s eyes change.
Not wider.
Narrower.
He takes one breath.
Then another.
He lowers his guard.
The cleaner Raigen does not move.
Raigen stops trying to match him.
His shoulders loosen.
His weight drops.
His hands no longer form the exact old stance.
One hand stays low.
The other hovers near the centerline.
Ugly.
Practical.
Unfinished.
Alive.
The cleaner Raigen attacks.
A clean palm strike.
Raigen does not block with matching form.
He steps into it.
Lets it glance off the shoulder.
Drives an elbow into the ribs.
The cleaner version exhales sharply.
Raigen hooks the wrist, not cleanly, not ceremonially, but with brutal efficiency.
He headbutts him.
The sound cracks through the chamber.
The mirrors shiver.
The cleaner Raigen staggers.
Raigen follows.
Low kick to the knee.
Forearm to the jaw.
Shoulder into the chest.
He does not waste motion now.
He does not chase honor.
He does not perform rage.
He takes space.
He removes options.
The cleaner Raigen tries to reset into perfect stance.
Raigen kicks the supporting leg before the stance completes.
The cleaner Raigen drops to one knee.
Raigen grabs him by the back of the head and drives him face-first toward the mirror wall.
The cleaner Raigen catches himself with both hands.
For a second, his reflection and Raigen’s reflection overlap.
Human.
Oni.
Student.
Weapon.
Survivor.
Raigen pulls him backward and lands a short, vicious knee.
Then another.
Then he stops.
The cleaner version looks up at him.
There is no fear.
Only sadness.
Raigen hesitates.
The chamber waits.
Kagehito speaks from the dark.
Kagehito: “Still pretending?”
Raigen’s face hardens.
He grabs the cleaner Raigen by the throat and shoulder, turns, and drives him into the floor with a compact, violent throw.
No flourish.
No name.
Just ending.
The cleaner Raigen hits the black stone and does not rise.
The mirrors crack all at once.
A sound like frozen lakes splitting.
Lines race across every wall.
One mirror breaks into a thousand pieces but does not fall.
Another splits straight down the middle, dividing Raigen’s face.
Another shows the cleaner Raigen lying still.
Then that image fades.
Raigen stands over his past self, chest rising and falling.
He does not look victorious.
He looks exposed.
Kagehito steps closer.
Kagehito: “What did you defeat?”
Raigen looks down.
The cleaner version begins to dissolve into black dust and reflected light.
Raigen: “My past.”
Kagehito’s eyes remain cold.
Kagehito: “No.”
Raigen turns toward him.
Kagehito: “You defeated your excuse for returning to it.”
The last of the cleaner Raigen disappears.
The mirrors darken.
All but one.
At the far side of the chamber, one reflection remains whole.
Raigen turns toward it.
This reflection does not show the cleaner past.
It does not show the Blood Oni as Kagehito knows it.
It does not show the man standing in the room.
It shows something else.
Raigen, but changed.
Still human in shape, but not fully human in presence.
The eyes are brighter.
Colder.
Dragon-like.
The posture is calm, but dangerous.
There is no slavish rage in it.
No desperate imitation.
No borrowed allegiance.
Something coiled beneath the skin.
Something waiting.
Raigen takes one step toward the mirror.
The dragon-like reflection does not move.
Raigen lifts a hand.
The reflection lifts its hand.
Not mirroring him.
Answering him.
Kagehito’s expression tightens.
Only slightly.
For the first time in the chamber, he looks uncertain.
Not afraid.
Not shaken.
But alert.
Kagehito: “What is this?”
Raigen does not answer.
He cannot.
The mirror goes black.
High above, unseen behind a narrow service grate, the Groundskeeper watches.
Still.
Silent.
His old eyes lower as if confirming something he was sent to observe.
He withdraws before Kagehito can turn.
No sound.
No trace.
Kagehito stares at the dead mirror a moment longer.
Then his voice returns to iron.
Kagehito: “Again.”
Raigen does not ask what he means.
The floor beneath him opens into darkness.
He falls.
No scream.
Only breath.
Cut to black.
A single chain rattles.
Then another.
Then dozens.
The darkness fades into a second chamber.
Lower ceiling.
Stone walls.
No mirrors.
No doors visible.
Chains hang from above, from the floor, from iron rings bolted into the walls. Some sway though no wind moves through the room.
Raigen wakes on his knees.
His arms are already bound.
Heavy chains wrap around both wrists, cross over his forearms, and run behind his back. More links hang from his waist. His movement is restricted, not completely stopped, but limited enough to make every instinct wrong.
He pulls once.
The chains tighten.
He pulls harder.
They tighten again.
Across the chamber, a masked opponent stands waiting.
Lean.
Fast.
Precise.
The figure carries no weapon.
They do not need one.
Kagehito stands above on a narrow stone balcony, looking down.
Kagehito: “Fourth trial.”
Raigen rises slowly, chains dragging against the floor.
Kagehito: “Chains.”
Raigen looks at his bound hands.
Then at the opponent.
Raigen: “Am I meant to fight like this?”
Kagehito answers without emotion.
Kagehito: “You have always fought like this.”
The masked opponent moves.
Fast.
A strike lands across Raigen’s jaw before he can lift his arms properly.
Raigen swings back, but the chains restrict the motion.
He misses.
The opponent steps in again.
Kick to the thigh.
Palm strike to the ribs.
Elbow to the shoulder.
Raigen turns too slowly.
Another kick lands behind the knee.
He drops to one leg.
The chains rattle around him, loud and humiliating.
The opponent circles.
Raigen rises and lunges.
The chains catch.
His reach dies inches short.
The opponent hits him with a sharp knee to the chest.
Raigen stumbles backward.
A chain goes taut behind him and yanks his balance away.
He falls hard.
Kagehito watches.
No pity.
Kagehito: “You rage against what holds you.”
Raigen rolls to his side, trying to create space.
The opponent steps in and kicks him across the ribs.
Raigen coughs.
Kagehito: “So it holds you tighter.”
Raigen forces himself up.
His face twists with frustration.
He pulls against the chains again and roars.
The chamber answers with metal.
The opponent uses the moment.
A fast combination.
Strike to the face.
Kick to the ribs.
Heel to the thigh.
Raigen swings with both bound arms like a club.
The opponent ducks and drives a shoulder into his midsection.
Raigen crashes into the wall.
One of the chains above snaps tight, pinning his arm awkwardly.
The masked opponent strikes him again.
And again.
And again.
Not brutal like the beating from Trial Two.
Precise.
Educational.
Every hit lands where the chains make defense difficult.
Raigen tries to rip free.
The links hold.
His wrists begin to bleed beneath the restraints.
Kagehito’s voice remains steady.
Kagehito: “You believe freedom means absence of restraint.”
Raigen grits his teeth.
The opponent hits him with a spinning kick to the shoulder.
Raigen drops again.
Kagehito: “A child’s definition.”
Raigen’s breathing grows ragged.
His eyes lower to the chains.
They are not just around him.
They define the room.
Their angles.
Their lengths.
Their tension.
The opponent waits, bouncing lightly on the balls of their feet.
Raigen pulls once more.
Softer this time.
The chain tightens.
He lets it slacken.
He pulls another link, testing the weight.
The opponent attacks.
Raigen does not lunge.
He turns his body with the chain instead.
The strike grazes him.
The opponent passes close.
Raigen catches a length of chain across the opponent’s arm.
Not enough to trap.
Enough to notice.
The masked fighter retreats.
Raigen looks at the chain in his hand.
Kagehito says nothing.
The opponent comes again.
Faster.
Raigen waits.
A kick comes toward his ribs.
He shifts with the restriction, not against it.
The chain at his waist swings outward.
It catches the opponent’s ankle for half a second.
The opponent stumbles.
Raigen steps in and slams his shoulder into them.
Not clean.
But real.
The opponent recovers and attacks with a flurry.
Raigen lets the chains guide the distance.
One link blocks a forearm.
Another wraps briefly across the opponent’s wrist.
Raigen pulls.
The opponent is dragged off-line.
Raigen drives a bound forearm into the masked face.
The opponent staggers back.
Raigen follows, not fast, but timed.
The chains scrape across the floor behind him.
This time they do not sound like weakness.
They sound like warning.
The opponent tries to circle wide.
Raigen steps across one chain and uses his own restricted arms to swing another length outward.
It catches the opponent across the chest.
Raigen pulls hard.
The opponent is yanked toward him.
Knee to the body.
Headbutt.
Short elbow.
The opponent drops to one knee.
Raigen wraps the chain once around the opponent’s shoulder and neck.
The masked fighter struggles.
Raigen does not roar now.
He breathes.
He adjusts.
He tightens.
The opponent tries to slip free, but Raigen turns his own body, using the wall anchor and his bound arms as leverage.
The chain becomes a coil.
The coil becomes control.
Raigen drags the opponent in.
Forehead to forehead.
His voice is low.
Raigen: “You move too much.”
He pulls.
The opponent’s balance breaks completely.
Raigen drives them down into the stone.
The masked fighter tries to rise.
Raigen steps on the loose chain, trapping their arm.
The opponent reaches with the other hand.
Raigen wraps that wrist too.
Every restriction that held him now holds them.
He does not fight the chains anymore.
He arranges them.
The opponent kicks.
Raigen absorbs it.
Then drops both bound forearms across the opponent’s chest.
Once.
Twice.
The third impact ends the struggle.
The masked opponent lies still, tangled in iron.
Raigen stands above them, breathing heavily.
His wrists bleed.
His arms remain chained.
But the chamber feels different.
The chains no longer appear to own him.
Kagehito descends from the balcony by a narrow stair.
He steps into the chamber and looks at the fallen opponent.
Then at Raigen.
Kagehito: “Control.”
Raigen looks at him.
Kagehito says nothing else.
Raigen lowers his eyes to his bound hands.
The chains shift.
For one moment, they are not iron.
They glow faintly.
Red-gold.
Then deep crimson.
Then something darker.
They coil around his wrists like dragon energy, living and deliberate.
Not binding him.
Circling him.
Waiting for command.
Raigen’s breathing slows.
The energy twists once around his forearms.
Then disappears.
Only chains remain.
Heavy.
Cold.
Real.
Kagehito sees the flicker.
His eyes narrow.
He steps closer.
Kagehito: “Again.”
Raigen looks up.
Raigen: “What?”
Kagehito studies the chains.
Then Raigen’s wrists.
Then his eyes.
Kagehito: “Do that again.”
Raigen looks down at his hands.
Nothing happens.
Only blood.
Only iron.
Only breath.
Kagehito’s face gives nothing away, but his silence changes.
He has seen something he cannot name.
That is the danger.
Raigen lifts his wrists slightly.
For the first time, he does not pull against them.
Kagehito watches the change.
Kagehito: “Now you begin to understand.”
He says it as if reclaiming the moment.
As if whatever flickered in the chains belongs to the lesson.
As if it must.
But above the chamber, in the darkness behind another narrow grate, the Groundskeeper’s eyes are watching.
He has seen it too.
Unlike Kagehito, he understands enough to be afraid of what it means.
The Groundskeeper withdraws into shadow.
Kagehito steps aside.
A door has appeared in the far wall.
It was not there before.
Kagehito: “Go.”
Raigen walks toward the door.
The chains drag after him.
Then one by one, they fall away.
Not unlocked.
Released.
A chain drops from his right wrist.
Then the left.
Then the waist.
The final link clatters to the stone floor.
Raigen stops at the threshold.
He looks back at the fallen chains.
Then at Kagehito.
Raigen: “What is the next trial?”
Kagehito’s face remains unreadable.
Kagehito: “The next one will not ask what you were.”
A pause.
Kagehito: “It will ask what you serve.”
Raigen’s eyes harden.
For a moment, the dragon-like reflection from the mirror chamber seems to appear in the darkness behind him.
Not visible enough to be certain.
Only suggested.
Coiled.
Watching.
Kagehito does not see it.
The Groundskeeper does.
Then Raigen steps through the door.
Blackness swallows him.
Kagehito remains alone in the chamber.
The chains on the floor shift slightly, though no hand touches them.
Kagehito looks down.
For the first time, his expression changes.
Barely.
Not surprise.
Recognition of a problem.
Cut to black.
Elsewhere.
A quiet service corridor.
The Groundskeeper walks alone, carrying a lantern.
His face remains simple.
Unremarkable.
Harmless.
But his eyes are not those things.
He stops beneath a narrow shaft of moonlight and reaches into his robe.
A small folded strip of rice paper rests in his palm.
He writes only a few words.
Not a report.
A warning.
The boy is changing.
He pauses.
Then adds one more line.
Not Oni.
The Groundskeeper folds the message once.
A small paper crane rests on the stone beside him.
He places the note beneath it.
The crane’s wings twitch.
Then it lifts from the floor, silent and pale, and disappears into the darkness of the corridor.
The Groundskeeper watches it go.
His voice is barely a whisper.
Groundskeeper: “Lady Ayame must know.”
He turns back toward the trial chambers.
From somewhere deep below, one chain rattles.
Then silence.
EPILOGUE — HANA’S ROOM
Back at Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.
The arena has emptied.
The roar of the crowd is gone now, replaced by the distant groan of the old building settling back into itself. Somewhere far down the corridor, a crew member rolls a production case across stone flooring. The wheels echo briefly, then fade.
Torchlight still burns along the backstage halls.
Lower now.
Softer.
After the violence, the title changes, the ambushes, and the declarations of war, Camelot feels strangely hollow.
The camera moves down a quiet corridor toward a dressing room door.
A small nameplate reads:
HANA NAKAMURA
Inside, Hana sits alone.
Her interview jacket hangs over the back of a chair. Her microphone rests on the table beside an open makeup case, a half-empty bottle of water, and a folded production sheet from the night’s broadcast.
She should be packing.
She is not.
Hana sits on the edge of a small bench, still in her show outfit, hands folded around a photograph.
The photo is worn at the corners.
Old.
Protected.
A young Japanese boy smiles up from it, caught in a moment before the world became complicated. His hair is slightly messy. His expression is bright, unguarded, full of the kind of life that does not know yet what it may be asked to survive.
Hana stares at him.
Not blinking.
Her thumb brushes the edge of the photograph.
A tear gathers at the corner of her eye.
Then another.
One slips free and rolls slowly down her cheek.
She inhales, but the breath shakes.
Her voice is barely there.
Hana Nakamura: “I’m trying.”
She looks at the picture again.
Hana Nakamura: “I’m trying to keep everyone safe.”
The words break before they fully leave her.
She presses the photograph closer to her chest for a moment, then lowers it again.
The camera catches the boy’s face once more.
Young.
Kind.
Lost to memory, but not gone from her.
A soft knock comes at the door.
Hana quickly wipes beneath her eye, but not fast enough to hide the truth from herself.
She takes one steadying breath.
Hana Nakamura: “Come in.”
The door opens.
Lady Ayame Ryu steps inside.
She enters quietly, with the grace of someone trained never to disturb a room more than necessary. Her presence changes the space without force. Calm. Formal. Watchful.
She wears dark, elegant attire with subtle dragon accents worked into the fabric. Nothing ornamental without meaning. Nothing careless.
Her eyes move first to Hana.
Then to the photograph.
She does not ask.
She closes the door gently behind her.
For a moment, neither woman speaks.
Hana lowers the photo into her lap.
Hana Nakamura: “Lady Ryu.”
Lady Ayame inclines her head.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Hana.”
Her voice is soft, but exact. Every word chosen before it is spoken.
Hana tries to compose herself fully, but the effort only makes the emotion clearer.
Hana Nakamura: “I’m sorry. I was just getting ready to leave.”
Lady Ayame takes one step forward.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “No apology is needed.”
Her eyes return briefly to the photograph.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Some memories do not wait politely for solitude.”
Hana looks down.
Her thumb brushes the picture again.
Hana Nakamura: “He hated when I cried.”
A fragile smile appears and disappears almost immediately.
Hana Nakamura: “He used to make faces until I laughed.”
Lady Ayame says nothing.
She gives the memory room to breathe.
Hana’s shoulders rise and fall with a quiet breath.
Hana Nakamura: “I keep thinking about him tonight. I don’t know why.”
Lady Ayame’s expression remains calm, but something in her eyes softens.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Perhaps because someone else is walking through pain you cannot reach.”
Hana looks up sharply.
She understands before the name is spoken.
Hana Nakamura: “Raigen.”
Lady Ayame nods once.
Hana stands, the photograph still in her hand.
Hana Nakamura: “Do you have news?”
Lady Ayame does not rush the answer.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Our eyes within the Blood Oni grounds have sent word.”
Hana grips the photograph tighter.
Hana Nakamura: “The Groundskeeper?”
Lady Ayame’s silence confirms enough.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Raigen continues to endure the trials.”
Hana closes her eyes briefly.
The worry hits her before she can brace for it.
Hana Nakamura: “No.”
A whisper.
Then stronger.
Hana Nakamura: “No, those trials are not training. Not really. They hurt him. They break him down and call it teaching.”
Lady Ayame watches her carefully.
Hana Nakamura: “I saw what he was before. I saw what the Syndicate made him. I saw what Kurogami did to him. I know what happens when men like that say pain has a purpose.”
Her voice trembles, but she does not stop.
Hana Nakamura: “And now Kagehito has him in those chambers. Alone. Bleeding. Fighting whatever they put in front of him.”
She turns away, trying to control the fear.
Hana Nakamura: “What if he does not come back?”
Lady Ayame takes another step into the room.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “He will.”
Hana turns back.
There is almost anger in her face now, born from fear.
Hana Nakamura: “You cannot know that.”
Lady Ayame accepts the words without offense.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “No.”
A pause.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “I cannot know all outcomes.”
Hana’s eyes glisten again.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But I know Raigen is not walking these trials as he once would have.”
Hana searches her face.
Hana Nakamura: “What does that mean?”
Lady Ayame’s gaze lowers slightly, as if listening to a report again in memory.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “He is changing.”
Hana swallows.
Hana Nakamura: “Changing how?”
Lady Ayame looks toward the closed door.
Her voice becomes quieter.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “The old Raigen would have answered pain with rage alone. The Blood Oni weapon would have answered command with obedience. The broken man would have mistaken punishment for identity.”
She looks back to Hana.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But the report says he is beginning to choose.”
Hana’s face tightens.
Hope and fear arrive together.
Hana Nakamura: “Choose what?”
Lady Ayame Ryu: “How to stand.”
A pause.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “How to survive.”
Another.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “How to use what binds him.”
Hana exhales slowly, trying to understand.
Hana Nakamura: “That sounds like something Kagehito would want.”
Lady Ayame’s eyes sharpen.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Kagehito believes he is shaping Raigen into a stronger instrument of the Syndicate.”
Hana Nakamura: “And is he?”
Lady Ayame does not answer immediately.
That delay frightens Hana more than a quick reassurance would have.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “No.”
The word is quiet.
Certain.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Not if the change continues.”
Hana lowers herself back onto the bench, overwhelmed.
Hana Nakamura: “Then why let him stay there?”
Lady Ayame absorbs the question.
It is the question underneath every other question.
Hana Nakamura: “If you have someone inside… if you know where he is… why not get him out?”
Lady Ayame’s face does not harden, but the weight of leadership returns to it.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Because extraction would save his body before his spirit is free.”
Hana shakes her head.
Hana Nakamura: “That sounds like something people say when they cannot help.”
Lady Ayame’s eyes soften again.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Sometimes it is.”
The honesty catches Hana off guard.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But not this time.”
She moves closer and kneels slightly so she is no longer looking down at Hana.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Raigen has lived under masters. Kurogami. The Syndicate. His rage. His shame. Even his idea of who he was before the Oni.”
Hana looks down at the photograph in her hands.
Lady Ayame continues.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “If we drag him out now, he may live.”
A pause.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But he may still belong to whatever voice is loudest when the next wound opens.”
Hana’s grip loosens slightly around the photo.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “He must pass through this process because something inside him is beginning to refuse ownership.”
Hana whispers.
Hana Nakamura: “And if the process kills him?”
Lady Ayame’s answer comes softly.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Then we will have failed him.”
The room goes still.
No easy reassurance.
No false comfort.
Hana looks at her through tears.
Lady Ayame holds her gaze.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But I do not believe that will happen.”
Hana Nakamura: “Why?”
Lady Ayame stands again.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Because he is not alone.”
Hana’s eyes search hers.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “The Groundskeeper remains close. Kagehito does not know what he is. He does not know who he serves. He does not know what has been seen.”
A flicker of relief crosses Hana’s face.
Hana Nakamura: “So you are watching him.”
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Yes.”
Hana Nakamura: “And if it becomes too much?”
Lady Ayame’s expression turns colder now.
Not toward Hana.
Toward the thought of the Blood Oni Syndicate.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Then the Blood Oni grounds will learn what it means to mistake patience for absence.”
Hana lets out a shaky breath.
The line comforts her, but only partly.
Hana Nakamura: “He looked so angry the last time I saw him.”
Lady Ayame nods faintly.
Hana Nakamura: “Not just at them. At everyone. At himself.”
She looks again at the photograph.
Hana Nakamura: “I know what that kind of anger can do to someone.”
Lady Ayame’s voice softens.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Anger can consume.”
A pause.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “It can also guard the door until something stronger is ready to emerge.”
Hana looks up.
Hana Nakamura: “Do you really believe there is something stronger in him?”
Lady Ayame answers without hesitation.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Yes.”
Hana waits.
Lady Ayame chooses her next words carefully.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But stronger does not always mean kinder.”
The warning lands.
Hana’s face falls slightly.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Raigen may not return as the man others wish him to be. He may not return clean. He may not return gentle. He may not return obedient to anyone’s hope for him.”
Hana absorbs that.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But if he survives this correctly, he may return as something more dangerous to the Syndicate than any weapon they tried to build.”
Hana’s voice is small.
Hana Nakamura: “Free?”
Lady Ayame studies her.
Then nods once.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Free enough to choose who deserves his violence.”
Hana closes her eyes.
Another tear falls, but this one is quieter.
Less helpless.
She looks down at the photograph again.
Hana Nakamura: “My brother used to say people could always come home if someone remembered the way for them.”
Lady Ayame lets the words sit between them.
Hana Nakamura: “I don’t know if Raigen even has a home anymore.”
Lady Ayame looks toward the corridor, toward the unseen distance between Camelot and the Blood Oni grounds.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Then perhaps he must become one within himself.”
Hana wipes at her cheek.
She nods, though the fear remains.
Hana Nakamura: “Will you tell me when there is more?”
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Yes.”
Hana Nakamura: “Promise?”
Lady Ayame’s expression becomes solemn.
This is not casual assurance.
It is an oath.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “I promise.”
Hana looks at her for a long moment.
Then she places the photograph carefully into a small protective sleeve and tucks it inside her bag.
The gesture is gentle.
Ritualistic.
She stands.
Still shaken.
Still worried.
But no longer alone with the fear.
Lady Ayame moves toward the door.
Before she leaves, Hana speaks again.
Hana Nakamura: “Lady Ryu?”
Ayame turns.
Hana Nakamura: “If Raigen gets through this… if he really changes…”
A pause.
Hana Nakamura: “Will he still know who tried to help him?”
Lady Ayame considers the question.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Perhaps not at first.”
Hana’s face tightens.
Lady Ayame continues.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But truth has a way of surviving beneath pain. Even when memory cannot speak it clearly.”
She opens the door.
The corridor light spills in.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Keep your compassion, Hana Nakamura. Raigen may not be ready to receive it.”
A pause.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “But one day, he may need proof that it existed.”
Hana stands silently, holding the strap of her bag.
Lady Ayame steps into the corridor.
Then stops once more without turning fully back.
Lady Ayame Ryu: “And Hana…”
Hana Nakamura: “Yes?”
Lady Ayame Ryu: “Your brother was right.”
Hana’s breath catches.
Lady Ayame exits.
The door closes softly.
Hana remains in the room for a moment.
Alone again.
But changed.
She looks toward the mirror on her dressing table.
Her eyes are red.
Her face is tired.
But she stands straighter now.
She picks up her bag, turns off the small lamp beside the mirror, and opens the door.
As she steps into the corridor, the camera lingers inside the empty dressing room.
The microphone on the table.
The folded production sheet.
The chair.
The faint reflection of torchlight in the mirror.
Then, for one brief moment, the surface of the mirror seems to darken.
Not fully.
Just enough.
A shape passes through it.
A suggestion of red-gold coils.
A shadow of a dragon.
Then it is gone.
The room is empty.
The screen cuts to black.
No comments:
Post a Comment