Aired - July 10, 2026
0. SHOW RUNDOWN
1. SHOW OPENING
2. CROWD SHOT AND WELCOMING
3. MATCH 1
4. SANDS OF TIME
5. MATCH 2
6. MATCH 3
7. CHAMPION OF THE COMMON MAN
8. MATCH 4
9. MATCH 5
10. WE WILL BLOW THE PLACE UP
11. MAIN EVENT
12. CLOSING
“The Envoy”
(Black screen.)
(The sound of a heavy book opening.)
(Not cleanly. Not gently.)
(Old pages scrape against each other like bone over stone.)
(A candle ignites.)
(The flame burns blue for a moment… then deepens to red.)
(Ink crawls across parchment, but this time it does not form words.)
(It forms a crown.)
(Then an arrow.)
(Then a hand.)
(Then an oni mask.)
(A low choir begins. Beneath it, a war drum beats once.)
Voice-over:
“Once upon a time… they told you every kingdom needed a hero.”
(beat)
“They never told you heroes bleed.”
(The ink spreads faster now, swallowing the parchment edges.)
“They never told you crowns grow heavier.”
“They never told you stories change hands.”
(A bell tolls.)
(The screen flickers with torchlight.)
Voice-over:
“Here… legends do not rest.”
“They are tested.”
“They are broken.”
“They are remade.”
(The burning parchment folds inward, becoming a dark fairytale title card.)
NPCW: DARK FABLE
Voice-over:
“This is the MYTHIC Division.”
“Welcome… to DARK FABLE.”
SIGNATURE MONTAGE — QUARTER 3
1) King Arthur
(A sword is raised beneath a storm-black sky.)
Arthur stands alone in the ring, armor battered, breath steady, eyes forward.
The crowd roars around him, but he does not answer them.
An opponent charges.
Arthur turns, counters, and drives him down with royal certainty.
Another figure rises behind him.
Arthur meets him too.
The crown does not make him safe.
It makes him hunted.
But still…
The king stands.
2) Blonde Bombshells — Alice, Dorothy & Rapunzel
(Bright storybook light floods the screen.)
(Then the color sharpens into something dangerous.)
Alice moves first—quick, fluid, smiling as she slips through a strike and sends her opponent spinning.
Dorothy follows with perfect timing, cutting the escape off before it begins.
Then Rapunzel steps in.
Graceful.
Precise.
No wasted motion.
Three women stand together as the fallen opponent reaches for them and finds nothing.
A familiar dream.
A dangerous mirror.
A fairytale with sharper teeth.
3) Robin Hood
(An arrow cuts through darkness.)
(It strikes a hanging lantern, and green light spills across the ring.)
Robin Hood ducks beneath a wild swing by inches.
He answers instantly.
One shot to stagger.
One movement to shift position.
One clean finish to end the moment before his opponent understands it.
He rises with calm defiance and looks toward the hard camera.
Not a prince.
Not a servant.
Not a man waiting for permission.
A thief.
A hero.
A problem no king can tax away.
4) The King’s Hand
(A gauntleted hand closes around a royal seal.)
(The wax cracks.)
The Sheriff of Nottingham steps through torchlight, cold authority in every movement.
Will Scarlet strikes beside him, violence wrapped in loyalty and resentment.
The King’s Collectors close in after them.
No chaos.
No wasted cruelty.
Only enforcement.
A man is dragged down.
Another is silenced.
Another is left staring up at the lights while the Hand of power tightens around the ring.
The law has arrived.
And mercy was never written into it.
5) Crimson Viper — The Queen of Hearts
(Red roses bloom across black parchment.)
(One by one, the petals fall.)
Crimson Viper stands motionless as her opponent circles.
Then she smiles.
A trap springs.
A strike lands.
A body folds.
She moves like a sentence already passed, turning panic into punishment.
The Queen of Hearts does not chase control.
She assumes it.
And when the final blow lands, there is no rage in her eyes.
Only judgment.
6) Monster Bash’s Enforcers — Kong & Ogre
(Chains drag across stone.)
(The sound becomes a heartbeat.)
Kong surges forward and crushes an opponent into the corner with impossible force.
Ogre follows, lifting another body high before driving it down with brutal finality.
No pageantry.
No speeches.
No warning.
Tag made simple.
Power made sacred.
Two bodies fall.
Two monsters remain.
Kong and Ogre stand over the wreckage, gold and violence bound together.
The Enforcers do not protect a throne.
They make sure no one survives long enough to challenge it.
7) Raigen the Maryu
(Red and gold flame cuts across the screen.)
(A dragon’s shadow coils behind it.)
Raigen stands in the center of the ring, still as a blade before the strike.
His opponent rushes him.
Raigen erupts.
A brutal combination lands in flashes—strike, turn, impact, silence.
The old storm is gone.
Something darker has taken its place.
He lowers one hand.
The air around him seems to burn.
This is not Raigen returning.
This is Raigen becoming.
The Maryu has awakened.
8) Blood Oni Syndicate — Lord Kurogami, Kaen, Enrai & Yurei Rinn
(The screen fades to black again.)
(A single red mask appears.)
(Then another.)
(Then another.)
(Lord Kurogami stands in shadow, unmoving, his presence heavier than sound.)
Kaen steps through firelight, fists clenched, eyes burning with violent purpose.
Enrai follows beneath a flash of white-blue lightning, calm and lethal.
Yurei Rinn appears last, ghostlike, silent, her stare fixed on something the audience cannot see.
Four figures.
One shadow.
The ring becomes a ritual space.
The Syndicate does not enter stories.
It infects them.
And when Lord Kurogami raises one hand…
The darkness answers.
(The choir rises.)
(War drums thunder beneath it.)
(The arena appears, lit like a cathedral built for judgment.)
Voice-over:
“This isn’t the North.”
“This isn’t the light.”
(beat)
“This is where crowns are tested.”
“Where heroes are hunted.”
“Where monsters wear gold.”
“And where every victory leaves a scar.”
(The music drops.)
(Only the bell remains.)
Voice-over:
“In DARK FABLE… the story does not end happily.”
(beat)
“It ends… with a winner.”
(A final image flashes: crown, arrow, rose, chain, dragon flame, oni mask.)
Voice-over:
“And in Quarter Three…”
(beat)
“The story belongs to whoever is strong enough to take it.”
(The bell tolls one final time.)
Voice-over:
“This… is DARK FABLE.”
The camera returns from the opening darkness into the full roar of Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.
The building is alive beneath blue and gold light.
Banners hang from the upper decks. Torches burn along the entranceway. The crowd rises in layers, signs lifted, voices crashing together until the sound feels less like cheering and more like a storm trapped inside stone walls.
The camera sweeps across the coliseum.
A section chants for Raigen.
Another answers with the name of Kaen.
Near the lower bowl, a cluster of fans hold up green banners for Robin Hood and the Merry Band. Across the aisle, darker signs carry the mark of the Broken Crown and the name of Mordred.
At ringside, Julian Ward and Brick Brody sit behind the commentary desk.
Julian Ward: “Good evening, and welcome to NPCW Dark Fable, live from Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum. I am Julian Ward, joined as always by Brick Brody, and tonight the walls of Camelot do not merely host competition. They host reckoning.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a pretty way to say people are gonna get hurt, Julian. I like my version better.”
Julian Ward: “One week ago, this division entered a new quarter under the weight of a familiar crown. King Arthur stood beneath the crest of Camelot, the reigning Mythic Crown Champion, with Guinevere at his side and the coliseum rising before him. It was ceremony. It was authority. But it was not peace.”
Brick Brody: “Peace is what weak men ask for when they don’t like the odds. Arthur walked out here with gold on his waist and a kingdom at his back, but kingdoms don’t stay standing because people clap for them. They stay standing because somebody is willing to break bones at the gate.”
The camera cuts to the entranceway, where the Camelot crest glows across the stage screen before fading into shadows.
Julian Ward: “The shadow at that gate remains Mordred. The Broken Crown has not vanished. It has simply grown quieter, colder, and more patient. Tonight, Mordred steps into the ring with Robin Hood, a man who has become more than an outlaw in this division. He has become resistance made flesh.”
Brick Brody: “And resistance gets crushed all the time. That’s what nobody wants to admit. Robin Hood can smile, he can rally peasants, he can talk about justice until his lungs give out. But Mordred isn’t interested in justice. He’s interested in inheritance, revenge, and making sure Camelot remembers what it buried.”
Julian Ward: “The war for Camelot is not the only wound still open. Lark of Sherwood has endured betrayal, punishment, and the cruel cost of loyalty. Tonight, she opens the night against Serpenta Veyne, one of the most dangerous and calculating threats in the Mythic Division.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a bad spot for Lark. She’s brave, sure. Brave gets you cheered. Serpenta Veyne gets you stretched, folded, and left wondering why courage didn’t save you.”
Julian Ward: “And then there is the matter of unfinished violence between Frankenstein’s Monster and Sir Lancelot. Lancelot has stood as one of Camelot’s proudest blades. Frankenstein’s Monster has become something harder to define. Not merely a former champion. Not merely a weapon. A force that continues to search for meaning through destruction.”
Brick Brody: “Meaning? He’s a walking wrecking ball. That’s the meaning. Sir Lancelot can polish the armor, talk about honor, and swing a sword in his heart all he wants. When Frankenstein’s Monster gets his hands on you, honor doesn’t hold your spine together.”
The camera cuts to fans near the barricade chanting for Lancelot, then to another section pounding their fists in rhythm for Monster.
Julian Ward: “Tonight will also see Sandman face Allan A Dale. For Allan, every match is another chance to prove the Merry Band is not only rebellion, but resilience. For Sandman, the ring remains a place where dreams are twisted into punishment.”
Brick Brody: “I’ll give Allan A Dale this. He’s got guts. But Sandman doesn’t care about guts. He takes the cheerful ones, the hopeful ones, the ones who still think this business is fair, and he drags them into deep water.”
Julian Ward: “In our fourth match, Yurei Rinn meets Rapunzel. A clash of haunting silence against survival and resolve. Rapunzel has faced monsters, queens, curses, and consequence. Yurei Rinn brings something different. A presence that does not rush, does not plead, and does not forgive.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the one I’m watching. Rapunzel has heart. Too much heart. Yurei Rinn looks like the kind of woman who hears a heartbeat and thinks, ‘That can be stopped.’”
The arena lights pulse red and gold as the stage screen briefly flashes the image of the Eternal Flame Championship.
The crowd reaction swells.
Julian Ward: “And then, our main event. The Eternal Flame Championship will be defended in a two-out-of-three falls match. The champion, Raigen, stands across from Kaen.”
Brick Brody: “Now we’re talking.”
Julian Ward: “Raigen has walked through trials that would have broken others. Silence. Pain. Discipline. The transformation into Raigen the Maryu did not come easily, and the Eternal Flame Championship now rests with a man who has paid for every inch of his ascent.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Gold should cost something. But Kaen isn’t coming here to admire the journey. Kaen is coming to take the title, take the flame, and prove Raigen learned all those lessons just to lose to somebody meaner.”
Julian Ward: “Two out of three falls means there is little room for accident. One fall can be survived. Two falls define the truth. Tonight, Raigen does not simply defend a championship. He defends the form he has become.”
Brick Brody: “And Kaen only has to prove that form can burn.”
The camera pulls back from the desk and rises above the ring.
The crowd grows louder as the lights darken near the entranceway.
Julian Ward: “Six matches. Six trials. A kingdom under pressure. A crown under shadow. A flame under siege. Tonight, Dark Fable continues.”
Brick Brody: “And somebody’s story ends worse than it started.”
The bell sounds once.
The arena lights settle into a cold green glow as the opening match atmosphere begins to form.
Julian Ward: “We begin with Serpenta Veyne against Lark of Sherwood.”
Brick Brody: “Hope against venom. I know where I’m putting my money.”
The camera cuts toward the ring as Louie Linville steps into position, waiting beneath the lights.
The camera returns to the ring.
The lights inside Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum lower into a cold green haze. The cheering crowd becomes restless as the stage screen darkens, then fills with the slow-moving image of coiling serpents crossing over cracked desert stone.
A thin hiss cuts through the arena speakers.
Serpenta Veyne steps onto the stage.
She does not rush.
She does not play to the crowd.
Her eyes stay forward, sharp and unreadable, as green and gold light crawls over her gear like scales catching torchlight. Every step down the ramp feels deliberate, as if she is measuring the distance to the ring and already deciding where her opponent will suffer.
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne enters tonight with the calm of someone who believes danger is not an action, but a state of being.”
Brick Brody: “That’s what I like about her. No wasted movement. No begging the crowd to love her. She walks in, picks a limb, and makes somebody regret having joints.”
Serpenta Veyne reaches ringside, slides beneath the bottom rope, and rises smoothly in the center of the ring. She turns once, slowly, letting the crowd see the stillness in her posture before backing into her corner.
The lights shift.
Green gives way to woodland gold.
The stage screen fills with the image of Sherwood branches twisting beneath moonlight. A drumbeat begins, steady and defiant. The crowd rises as Lark of Sherwood emerges onto the stage.
She carries no false confidence.
Only resolve.
Lark of Sherwood pauses at the top of the ramp, looking out across the coliseum before turning her eyes toward the ring. She knows what waits there. She walks anyway.
Julian Ward: “There is a quiet courage to Lark of Sherwood. Not the loud courage of someone untouched by pain, but the deeper kind that walks forward after learning exactly what pain can cost.”
Brick Brody: “Courage is nice. So is a shield. She better have more than both, because Serpenta Veyne doesn’t care how noble the story sounds.”
Lark of Sherwood enters the ring and keeps her eyes on Serpenta Veyne. She does not pose. She does not turn her back. She moves into her corner and rolls her shoulders as the crowd continues to chant her name.
In the center of the ring, Louie Linville lifts the microphone.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen, this opening contest is scheduled for one fall.”
The crowd roars.
Louie Linville: “The referee assigned to this match is Slow-Count Sam.”
Slow-Count Sam raises one hand, drawing a mixed reaction from the crowd.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first, standing in the corner to my left. She is the venom beneath the veil, the silence before the strike, Serpenta Veyne!”
Serpenta Veyne barely moves. She only tilts her chin, accepting the introduction like a fact already known.
Louie Linville: “And her opponent, standing in the corner to my right. From the green heart of rebellion, carrying the will of Sherwood, Lark of Sherwood!”
The crowd answers with a strong cheer as Lark of Sherwood steps forward once, focused and ready.
Slow-Count Sam checks both competitors, then calls for the bell.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne wastes no time closing the distance, and there is the Scorpion Kick immediately across the side of the head.”
Brick Brody: “That is how you start a fight. Don’t feel her out. Don’t shake hands. Kick the door off the hinges.”
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood absorbs the strike, but that landed clean. Serpenta Veyne has taken the first measure of this match, and she has done it with precision.”
Brick Brody: “That kick told Lark exactly what kind of night this is going to be. Pain first. Questions later.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne follows by latching onto the shoulder with the Serpent Bite, digging into the joint and trying to compromise the arm early.”
Brick Brody: “That’s smart. Take the shoulder, take the balance, take the strength. You can’t fight rebellion with one good arm.”
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood answers with a hard headbutt, creating just enough space, but Serpenta keeps that claw applied for several dangerous seconds.”
Brick Brody: “Give Lark credit. She didn’t panic. She used her skull like a hammer. I respect that.”
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne tightens the Serpent Bite, but Lark of Sherwood refuses the submission. The first true test of her endurance has come early.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne circles and fires a Roundhouse Kick, but Lark of Sherwood turns through the damage and catches her with a Fireman’s Carry Cutter.”
Brick Brody: “That was a good answer. Serpenta hit her in the head, and Lark dumped her on hers.”
Julian Ward: “The pace is already shifting back and forth. Serpenta brings the speed and snap. Lark is showing she can answer with impact.”
Brick Brody: “This is what I wanted to see. None of that cautious opening nonsense. They’re trading punishment.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne catches Lark of Sherwood near the ropes and drives her down with the Flaming Arrow Slingshot D.D.T.”
Brick Brody: “That’ll scramble the map in your head. Lark just got planted face-first, and she didn’t have a hand free to stop it.”
Julian Ward: “Lark absorbs the punishment, but that was a severe landing. Serpenta has gone from targeting the shoulder to targeting the head and neck.”
Brick Brody: “Exactly. Don’t pick one injury when you can start a collection.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Now Lark of Sherwood creates her opening. She catches Serpenta Veyne coming in and drops her with another Fireman’s Carry Cutter.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. Lark isn’t just surviving. She’s starting to throw receipts.”
Julian Ward: “Serpenta takes the full force of that one. Lark needed a turning point, and she may have found it.”
Brick Brody: “Maybe. But she better stay on her. You don’t give a snake time to coil back up.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Both women step in again. Serpenta Veyne snaps off a Swinging Hurricanrana, sending Lark of Sherwood across the mat.”
Brick Brody: “Fast, nasty, and it changes the angle of the whole fight.”
Julian Ward: “But Lark powers back and catches Serpenta with a Chokeslam. That is a startling show of strength from Lark of Sherwood.”
Brick Brody: “That’ll make Serpenta think twice. Lark just reminded her this isn’t all speed and pretty counters. There’s weight behind those hands.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood presses forward with a headbutt, and Serpenta Veyne tries to brace against it but cannot stop the contact.”
Brick Brody: “That is ugly offense, and ugly offense works. You can dress up a fight all you want, but a hard skull still wins arguments.”
Julian Ward: “Lark is beginning to force this into closer quarters. That may be important. The less space Serpenta has, the less room she has to build speed.”
Brick Brody: “That’s how you handle somebody slippery. Crowd them. Smother them. Make every breath cost.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood continues the surge. A Shining Wizard lands flush, and Serpenta Veyne cannot fully defend.”
Brick Brody: “That one caught her clean. Serpenta tried to guard late, and late gets you cracked.”
Julian Ward: “The momentum has turned toward Lark. After absorbing early punishment, she has begun to impose her physicality.”
Brick Brody: “And now we find out if Serpenta can take what she likes to give.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne looks for the Wheelbarrow D.D.T., while Lark of Sherwood fires in another Shining Wizard. Both attacks clash in an awkward, dangerous exchange.”
Brick Brody: “That was a wreck. Neither woman got clean control, but both felt it.”
Julian Ward: “No clear advantage gained there. The match briefly breaks into chaos, and both competitors have to reset.”
Brick Brody: “Sometimes a fight just turns into two people trying to hit each other first. Nothing wrong with that.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne returns to the Flaming Arrow Slingshot D.D.T., again driving Lark of Sherwood down near the ropes.”
Brick Brody: “She went back to what worked. I love that. No pride. No need to invent something new when the old wound is still open.”
Julian Ward: “Lark still answers with a Single Leg Dropkick, catching Serpenta as she tries to rise. Even hurt, Lark is refusing to surrender momentum completely.”
Brick Brody: “She’s stubborn. Stubborn can win you matches. It can also get you carried out.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Both competitors hesitate after a defensive exchange, and then Lark of Sherwood finds the opening with another Single Leg Dropkick.”
Brick Brody: “She caught Serpenta trying to protect herself. That is the difference between defense and fear.”
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne attempts to block, but Lark pierces through the guard. The repeated strikes are beginning to add up.”
Brick Brody: “Legs, ribs, jaw, neck. At this pace, they’re both going to leave with a list.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne climbs and launches with a Diving Crossbody, taking Lark of Sherwood off balance.”
Brick Brody: “Risky, but it landed. That’s the kind of move that reminds Lark she can get hit from anywhere.”
Julian Ward: “Lark answers with another Single Leg Dropkick, and again we see both women scoring in the same exchange. Neither can fully separate.”
Brick Brody: “That means the first woman to make a mistake is going to pay double.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne uses a Swinging Hurricanrana to throw Lark of Sherwood across the ring, but Lark rolls through the impact and responds with a Fireman’s Carry Cutter.”
Brick Brody: “That cutter keeps saving Lark. Every time Serpenta gets fancy, Lark finds a way to make her land hard.”
Julian Ward: “The endurance of Lark is becoming the story of this match. Serpenta is striking sharply, but Lark keeps answering with heavier offense.”
Brick Brody: “Endurance is great, but there’s a limit. Everybody has a breaking point. Serpenta just has to find it.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne cuts off the advance with a Roundhouse Kick, and this time Lark of Sherwood absorbs the full impact without an immediate counter.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. Kick the head enough times and eventually the body listens.”
Julian Ward: “That strike slows Lark down. Serpenta needed to halt the gathering rhythm, and she has done so with one clean blow.”
Brick Brody: “Smart fighters don’t just attack. They interrupt. Serpenta interrupted the whole uprising right there.”
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “A long defensive struggle breaks out in the center of the ring. Both women test for position, neither willing to give up control.”
Brick Brody: “That’s not a rest. That’s two fighters trying not to make the mistake that ends the match.”
Julian Ward: “Finally, Serpenta Veyne breaks through with another Roundhouse Kick, but Lark of Sherwood answers with a headbutt almost immediately.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a nasty trade. Serpenta kicks her in the head, Lark throws the head right back at her.”
Julian Ward: “The damage is visible now. Both women are slower to reset, but neither is backing away.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne lands yet another Roundhouse Kick, trying to keep Lark of Sherwood stunned and standing in place.”
Brick Brody: “She’s hammering that target now. Same side, same rhythm, same bad news.”
Julian Ward: “But Lark surges forward with a Double Chickenwing Facebuster, driving Serpenta down hard.”
Brick Brody: “Big answer from Lark. That’s the kind of move that can knock the plan right out of your skull.”
Julian Ward: “Again, the heavier blow comes from Lark, and again Serpenta is forced to regroup.”
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne changes levels and powers Lark of Sherwood into the mat with the Desert Eagle Powerbomb.”
Brick Brody: “Now that was nasty. She folded her. That wasn’t just impact, that was a message.”
Julian Ward: “Lark still manages to answer with a Fireman’s Carry Cutter, but Serpenta falls across her and hooks the leg.”
Slow-Count Sam drops to the mat.
“One…”
The count drags.
“Two…”
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “That slow count may have helped her breathe, but don’t pretend that powerbomb didn’t take something out of her.”
Julian Ward: “The first pin attempt belongs to Serpenta Veyne, and it nearly changes the match.”
Minute 18
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood rises into urgency now. She catches Serpenta Veyne and drives her down with another Chokeslam.”
Brick Brody: “That is what you do after somebody almost pins you. You don’t complain about the count. You put them on their back.”
Julian Ward: “Serpenta tries to defend, but Lark powers through. The strength of Lark of Sherwood remains a serious factor.”
Brick Brody: “Strength and anger. That’s a useful combination.”
Minute 19
Julian Ward: “After another brief defensive tangle, Serpenta Veyne traps Lark of Sherwood in the Bodyscissored Dragon Sleeper.”
Brick Brody: “That is a cruel hold. Legs around the body, arm around the head, breath disappearing by the second.”
Julian Ward: “Lark cannot fully defend before the hold is locked. Serpenta is trying to drain her, not merely damage her.”
Brick Brody: “That’s how you beat someone with heart. You make the heart work without air.”
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood fights, shifts her weight, and survives the hold, but that was a dangerous stretch of control for Serpenta Veyne.”
Minute 20
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne looks once more for the Flaming Arrow Slingshot D.D.T., and she hits it, spiking Lark of Sherwood down.”
Brick Brody: “That move keeps landing. At some point, the neck stops forgiving you.”
Julian Ward: “But Lark explodes back with a Shining Wizard, and that may be her cleanest strike of the match.”
Brick Brody: “That caught Serpenta right on the button. You could feel the whole ring shake from that one.”
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood is not merely surviving now. She is beginning to hurt Serpenta Veyne in return.”
Minute 21
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood continues forward and snaps Serpenta Veyne down with a Rolling Cutter.”
Brick Brody: “Beautiful timing. Serpenta got caught standing, and Lark took the head with her.”
Julian Ward: “Serpenta absorbs the full force of that one. This may be the deepest trouble she has been in so far.”
Brick Brody: “She’s not done, but she’s wearing the damage now. You can see it in the way she’s getting up.”
Minute 22
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne fires back with a Wheelbarrow D.D.T., driving Lark of Sherwood down and immediately turning into another cover.”
Brick Brody: “That’s veteran instinct. Hit the move, don’t admire it, cover.”
Slow-Count Sam drops again.
“One…”
The count stretches.
“Two…”
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood kicks out again.”
Brick Brody: “That slow count is killing Serpenta. But she still put Lark down, and she still made her kick out.”
Julian Ward: “Another near fall for Serpenta Veyne, and the pressure tightens. Lark has endured, but these kickouts are costing her.”
Minute 23
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne hoists Lark of Sherwood again. Another Desert Eagle Powerbomb lands with tremendous force.”
Brick Brody: “That should be it. That absolutely should be it.”
Julian Ward: “Lark somehow answers on instinct with the Double Chickenwing Facebuster, but Serpenta still collapses into the cover.”
Slow-Count Sam begins the count.
“One…”
The crowd leans in.
“Two…”
Julian Ward: “And Lark of Sherwood kicks out once more.”
Brick Brody: “How? That’s not courage anymore. That’s refusal bordering on stupidity.”
Julian Ward: “The slow count may have given her a fraction more time, but Lark still had to find the strength to escape. Serpenta Veyne is growing frustrated now.”
Brick Brody: “She should be. She keeps doing enough to win, and Lark keeps crawling out of the grave.”
Minute 24
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood turns the tide again with another Rolling Cutter, and Serpenta Veyne cannot defend it.”
Brick Brody: “That one snapped her down hard. Serpenta has spent too much energy trying to finish this, and now Lark is making her pay.”
Julian Ward: “The match has crossed into a war of attrition. Serpenta has had the sharper near falls, but Lark continues to build heavy, repeated damage.”
Brick Brody: “Attrition favors whoever enjoys suffering more. Tonight, I’m not sure who that is.”
Minute 25
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne traps Lark of Sherwood again, pulling her into the Bodyscissored Dragon Sleeper.”
Brick Brody: “Back to the choke. Back to the squeeze. That’s smart. Don’t let Lark keep swinging.”
Julian Ward: “But Lark fights through the pressure and catches Serpenta with another Shining Wizard as the hold breaks loose.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a desperate strike, but desperate strikes still knock teeth loose.”
Julian Ward: “Serpenta wanted to slow the match down. Lark forced another collision instead.”
Minute 26
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne tries to take this to the outside with a Hurricanrana to the Floor, but Lark of Sherwood reverses it.”
Brick Brody: “Bad idea. High risk, and Lark just turned it into a disaster.”
Julian Ward: “Lark pulls Serpenta back into position and drops her with the Sherwood Destroyer.”
Brick Brody: “That might be the biggest move Lark has landed all match.”
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood covers.”
Slow-Count Sam slides down.
“One…”
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne kicks out at one.”
Brick Brody: “One? After that? That’s pride, spite, or survival instinct. Maybe all three.”
Julian Ward: “The kickout was early, but Serpenta absorbed immense punishment. The impact still matters.”
Minute 27
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood stays on her. A second Sherwood Destroyer plants Serpenta Veyne again.”
Brick Brody: “Now Lark is getting mean. That’s what she needed. Less noble, more brutal.”
Julian Ward: “Another cover by Lark.”
Slow-Count Sam counts.
“One…”
Julian Ward: “And again, Serpenta Veyne kicks out at one.”
Brick Brody: “That is insulting. Serpenta is telling her, ‘You hit me with your best, and I’m still here.’”
Julian Ward: “But pride can be costly. Serpenta is kicking out, but she is not stopping Lark’s momentum.”
Minute 28
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood pulls Serpenta Veyne up. Serpenta tries to brace, but Lark drives through and delivers the Sitout Gourdbuster.”
Brick Brody: “She got all of it. Face and body straight into the mat.”
Julian Ward: “Serpenta Veyne attempted to defend, but she could not stop the impact. Lark of Sherwood turns her over and hooks the leg.”
Slow-Count Sam drops into position.
“One…”
The crowd rises.
“Two…”
Serpenta Veyne kicks her legs, but cannot break free.
“Three!”
The bell rings.
The coliseum erupts as Lark of Sherwood releases the cover and rolls to her knees, exhausted but victorious.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner, Lark of Sherwood!”
Serpenta Veyne lies on her side, one hand near her jaw, her expression tense with fury and disbelief. Lark of Sherwood pulls herself up using the ropes, breathing hard as the crowd chants her name.
Julian Ward: “Lark of Sherwood has survived venom, pressure, and repeated near falls to claim this opening contest. This was not a clean path. It was not an easy path. But it was a meaningful one.”
Brick Brody: “I’ll say this for Lark. She took everything Serpenta Veyne threw at her and kept getting up. That’s annoying when you’re trying to beat somebody, but it wins fights.”
Julian Ward: “For Serpenta Veyne, the frustration will linger. She had moments where this match seemed nearly finished. But tonight, Lark of Sherwood endured long enough to turn survival into victory.”
RESULT: LARK OF SHERWOOD DEFEATS SERPENTA VEYNE BY PINFALL AT THE 28 MINUTE MARK WITH A SITOUT GOURDBUSTER.
The camera cuts backstage.
The noise of Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum is muffled behind stone walls and heavy black curtains. Torchlight flickers along the corridor, throwing long shadows across the floor.
Hana Nakamura stands with a microphone in hand. Her expression is professional, but there is a careful unease in her eyes.
Beside her stands Sandman.
He is still.
Too still.
His head is slightly lowered, his presence quiet in a way that makes the corridor feel colder. The dim light catches him in fragments, never fully revealing whether he is watching Hana Nakamura, the camera, or something far beyond both.
Hana Nakamura: “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, Sandman.”
A low reaction rolls through the arena from the live crowd watching on the screen.
Hana Nakamura turns toward him, keeping her tone respectful.
Hana Nakamura: “Sandman, over the past few weeks, you have picked up two victories over John Henry. Those matches were difficult, physical, and at times very close. John Henry has been seen by many as one of the most promising new arrivals to the main roster. After facing him twice, what do you believe those victories proved?”
Sandman does not answer immediately.
He slowly lifts his gaze.
Sandman: “Promising.”
The word hangs in the corridor.
Sandman: “A kind word. A soft word. A word men use when they see a shape in the distance and pretend it has already arrived.”
Hana Nakamura watches him carefully.
Sandman: “John Henry is strong. Yes. His hands know labor. His back knows burden. His heart beats like a hammer striking iron in the deep places of the earth.”
Sandman tilts his head slightly.
Sandman: “But strength is not arrival.”
He pauses.
Sandman: “A hammer may strike steel. A furnace may glow. A song may rise from the rail and the mountain. Still, the work is not finished simply because the first spark appears.”
Hana Nakamura: “So you do not believe John Henry is ready for the main roster?”
Sandman turns his eyes toward her.
Sandman: “Ready.”
He almost seems amused by the word, though no smile appears.
Sandman: “Readiness is the lie youth tells itself when the door opens.”
Hana Nakamura lowers the microphone slightly, listening.
Sandman: “John Henry has power enough to split stone. He has will enough to shame lesser men. But this place does not reward potential. It devours it. It waits for it. It grinds it beneath match after match, wound after wound, failure after failure, until only what is true remains.”
A faint cheer for John Henry can be heard from the arena, distant but clear.
Sandman does not react.
Sandman: “Twice he stood before me. Twice he tried to prove that muscle could outrun the hourglass.”
He slowly raises one hand, letting his fingers open as though sand is slipping through them.
Sandman: “And twice, time answered.”
Hana Nakamura: “There are many who would say John Henry showed courage in those matches. That even in defeat, he proved he belongs here.”
Sandman: “Courage is a candle.”
His voice remains soft.
Sandman: “Beautiful for a moment. Warm to the hand. Defiant against the dark.”
He lowers his hand.
Sandman: “But the dark is patient.”
Hana Nakamura draws a small breath.
Sandman: “John Henry does not need applause. He does not need the roar of a crowd convincing him that promise and completion are the same thing. He needs time. He needs erosion. He needs to learn what remains after pride has been worn smooth.”
Hana Nakamura: “And do you believe you were teaching him that?”
Sandman slowly turns toward the camera.
Sandman: “I teach nothing.”
The corridor seems to quiet around him.
Sandman: “I reveal.”
He steps half a pace closer to the camera.
Sandman: “Even the hardest steel will succumb to the sands of time. Not because the sand is stronger. Not because the grain is greater than the blade.”
His voice lowers.
Sandman: “Because time does not strike once.”
He lets the words settle.
Sandman: “It returns.”
Hana Nakamura: “Tonight, you face Allan A Dale. He is very different from John Henry. He brings speed, spirit, and the backing of the Merry Band. Does that change your approach?”
Sandman turns back toward her.
Sandman: “A songbird believes flight is freedom.”
He looks past Hana Nakamura, toward the direction of the arena.
Sandman: “It lifts itself above the branch and thinks the sky belongs to it. It sings because it has not yet heard the silence waiting at the end of the note.”
Hana Nakamura: “You believe Allan A Dale is walking into the same lesson?”
Sandman: “No.”
A faint shift crosses his face.
Not emotion.
Certainty.
Sandman: “Allan A Dale walks into a different dream.”
He slowly turns away from the interview position.
Sandman: “John Henry was iron.”
A pause.
Sandman: “Allan A Dale is music.”
He takes one slow step down the corridor.
Sandman: “Iron rusts.”
Another step.
Sandman: “Music fades.”
Hana Nakamura keeps the microphone raised, but does not interrupt.
Sandman stops beneath the next torch, his shadow stretching long across the stone.
Sandman: “And all things, in time, sleep.”
He continues down the corridor and disappears into the dark.
Hana Nakamura remains in place for a moment, visibly unsettled.
She turns back toward the camera.
Hana Nakamura: “Sandman faces Allan A Dale later tonight. Back to ringside.”
The camera lingers on the empty corridor.
For a second, the torch nearest the wall flickers low, almost going out.
Then the screen cuts away.
The camera returns to the ring inside Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.
The atmosphere has shifted after the opening contest. The crowd remains loud, but there is a heavier anticipation now, the kind that comes before something more physical, more dangerous, and less forgiving.
The lights dim.
A low electrical hum crawls through the arena.
The stage screen flickers with violent white light, like lightning trapped behind cracked glass. The sound of chains dragging over stone echoes through the coliseum, followed by the deep, slow pulse of a heartbeat.
Dr. Frankenstein steps onto the stage first.
He wears a dark coat, his posture rigid, his face set in furious concentration. He does not look at the crowd. He looks only toward the ring, as if the entire building is a laboratory and every person inside it has misunderstood the experiment.
Behind him comes Frankenstein’s Monster.
The former Mythic Crown Champion walks through the light like something pulled from a storm and given purpose. His shoulders are immense. His breathing is heavy. His eyes are fixed forward, not empty, but burdened by something too deep to be called anger alone.
Julian Ward: “There are few presences in the Mythic Division that alter a room like Frankenstein’s Monster. He does not enter as a man seeking applause. He enters as consequence given form.”
Brick Brody: “That’s because applause doesn’t matter when you can cave somebody’s ribs in. Frankenstein’s Monster doesn’t need the people. He needs a target.”
Dr. Frankenstein leads Frankenstein’s Monster down the ramp, speaking sharply to him under his breath. Frankenstein’s Monster does not visibly respond. He only continues forward, each step heavy enough to make the ringside camera shake.
At ringside, Frankenstein’s Monster climbs onto the apron and steps over the top rope. Dr. Frankenstein remains on the floor, gripping the edge of the apron and staring across the ring with bitter intensity.
The lights change.
The storm-white glare gives way to silver and blue.
The stage screen fills with the crest of Camelot, then with the image of a blade gleaming beneath moonlight. The crowd rises as Sir Lancelot steps onto the stage.
He is not smiling.
His armor-inspired gear catches the light, polished but battle-worn in spirit. Beside him walks Merlin, hooded and composed, his eyes watching the ring with ancient concern.
Sir Lancelot pauses at the top of the ramp, then kneels briefly with one hand over his heart before standing again.
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot walks toward a familiar danger tonight. Honor has brought him into battle before, but against Frankenstein’s Monster, honor alone may not be enough.”
Brick Brody: “Honor is nice on a banner. It doesn’t block an elbow drop. Lancelot better bring something harder than virtue.”
Merlin places one hand briefly on Sir Lancelot’s shoulder and speaks quietly. Sir Lancelot nods once, then heads to the ring.
He steps through the ropes and keeps his eyes locked on Frankenstein’s Monster.
The size difference is immediate.
The tension is older than the bell.
In the center of the ring, Louie Linville lifts the microphone.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall.”
The crowd roars.
Louie Linville: “The referee assigned to this match is Honest Abe.”
Honest Abe raises one hand, calm and impartial, then checks the corners.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by Dr. Frankenstein. He is the living ruin, the stitched storm, the former Mythic Crown Champion, Frankenstein’s Monster!”
A deep, divided reaction shakes the coliseum.
Frankenstein’s Monster stands still, his hands flexing at his sides.
Louie Linville: “And his opponent, accompanied to the ring by Merlin. He is one of Camelot’s brightest blades, the knight of courage and consequence, Sir Lancelot!”
The crowd cheers strongly as Sir Lancelot steps forward, his focus unbroken.
Honest Abe calls both competitors toward the center. Sir Lancelot looks up into the face of Frankenstein’s Monster. Frankenstein’s Monster stares down at him without expression.
Honest Abe signals for the bell.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster immediately drives forward, using his size to crowd Sir Lancelot before dropping a heavy Elbow Drop across him.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the right idea. Don’t let Lancelot get pretty. Put weight on him early and make him carry it.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot answers with an Enzuigiri, catching Frankenstein’s Monster near the side of the head, but the larger man absorbs it and continues to press.”
Brick Brody: “Good kick from Lancelot, but kicking a wall doesn’t mean the wall moves.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster scoops Sir Lancelot up and charges forward with The Flat Liner, the Running Power Slam landing with tremendous force.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a body-breaker. You get driven into the mat like that, and suddenly breathing becomes strategy.”
Julian Ward: “Again, Sir Lancelot fires back with an Enzuigiri, showing speed and accuracy, but Frankenstein’s Monster is winning the physical exchanges.”
Brick Brody: “Because every shot from Frankenstein’s Monster is a heavier tax. Lancelot can hit him six times, but one slam changes the whole account.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster raises both arms and crashes down with The Bolt Driver, a Double Axe Handle Smash that breaks through Sir Lancelot’s defense.”
Brick Brody: “That was ugly. No finesse, no flourish, just both hands coming down like a guillotine.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot tried to brace against it, but he could not stop the impact. Frankenstein’s Monster is forcing him backward minute by minute.”
Brick Brody: “This is what power does. It makes brave men defensive.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Another Bolt Driver from Frankenstein’s Monster, and Sir Lancelot staggers under the weight of it.”
Brick Brody: “He’s clubbing him down. That’s not a move, that’s demolition.”
Julian Ward: “But Sir Lancelot responds with a Superkick, catching Frankenstein’s Monster clean and forcing him to take a step back.”
Brick Brody: “That one got his attention. Not enough to drop him, but enough to remind him Lancelot has teeth.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster seizes Sir Lancelot and throws him out of the ring with brutal force. Sir Lancelot crashes to the floor near Merlin.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the monster. Pick him up, throw him out, make the floor part of the fight.”
Julian Ward: “At ringside, Merlin moves quickly, using Mesmerize Foe to disrupt Frankenstein’s Monster’s focus from the floor.”
Brick Brody: “That old wizard just bought Lancelot a few precious seconds. I call that survival, not magic.”
Honest Abe begins the count.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot is still down, trying to gather himself after that landing.”
“Four!”
“Five!”
“Six!”
Brick Brody: “He better move. Pride doesn’t beat a count-out.”
“Seven!”
“Eight!”
“Nine!”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot rolls back into the ring at nine, narrowly keeping this match alive.”
Brick Brody: “Close enough to scare him. That floor took something out of him.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster drags Sir Lancelot back up and plants him with the Graveyard Slam, a heavy Body Slam into the canvas.”
Brick Brody: “Simple works. Pick him up. Put him down hard. Repeat until the knight stops moving.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot answers again with an Enzuigiri, still finding the head of Frankenstein’s Monster with those sharp strikes.”
Brick Brody: “He’s accurate. I’ll give him that. But accuracy doesn’t matter if the target refuses to fall.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster drops another Elbow Drop, and this time Sir Lancelot cannot defend against it.”
Brick Brody: “That elbow landed like masonry.”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster hooks the leg. First cover of the match.”
Honest Abe drops into position.
“One!”
“Two!”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Good kickout, but he’s already being forced to spend energy just to stay alive.”
Julian Ward: “The pin does not finish the match, but it confirms the pattern. Frankenstein’s Monster is making Sir Lancelot carry every second of this contest.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “A brief defensive struggle in the center of the ring, and then Frankenstein’s Monster breaks through with the Deadweight Drop, a Sidewalk Slam that drives Sir Lancelot flat.”
Brick Brody: “That name fits. Lancelot looked like deadweight when he hit.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot still fires back with another Enzuigiri, trying to keep movement and rhythm alive.”
Brick Brody: “He’s fighting smart, but the question is how many kicks he has left before those slams empty the tank.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot tries to shift the momentum with a Running Bulldog, but Frankenstein’s Monster reverses it.”
Brick Brody: “Bad mistake. You don’t grab that head unless you can actually drag it down.”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster counters into the Stitched Slam, the Fallaway Slam sending Sir Lancelot across the ring.”
Brick Brody: “He threw him like scrap.”
Julian Ward: “Another cover by Frankenstein’s Monster.”
Honest Abe counts.
“One!”
“Two!”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot kicks out again.”
Brick Brody: “That was a bad cover. Too casual, too heavy on confidence. Frankenstein’s Monster had the damage, but he didn’t seal the door.”
Julian Ward: “The kickout keeps Sir Lancelot alive, though the punishment continues to gather.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot attempts another Enzuigiri, but this time Frankenstein’s Monster neutralizes it completely.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the adjustment. He’s been hit by that kick enough times. Now he’s solving it.”
Julian Ward: “That may be an important turning point. One of Sir Lancelot’s most reliable answers has just been taken away.”
Brick Brody: “And when your answer stops working, the question gets real ugly.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster sends Sir Lancelot flying again with the Stitched Slam, but Sir Lancelot uses the movement to spring back into a Running Shooting Star Press.”
Brick Brody: “That’s wild courage right there. Maybe foolish, but wild.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot finally creates a moment where his speed outweighs the power of Frankenstein’s Monster.”
Brick Brody: “For one second. That’s the problem. He needs a lot more than one second.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster strikes with the Heavy Hand, a Back Smash across Sir Lancelot, but Sir Lancelot answers with a Bridging Suplex.”
Brick Brody: “That bridge took guts. Getting that big man over is no small thing.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot holds the bridge. He has the cover.”
Honest Abe counts.
“One!”
“Two!”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “That was a gamble, and it didn’t pay off. Lancelot used a lot of energy to hold that bridge, and Frankenstein’s Monster still powered out.”
Julian Ward: “It was the first real pin attempt from Sir Lancelot, and while it does not end the match, it proves he can still threaten victory.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Now Dr. Frankenstein gets involved at ringside, sweeping at Sir Lancelot’s leg near the ropes.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the doctor. I knew he wasn’t out here for moral support.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot stumbles, but still manages to fire another Enzuigiri at Frankenstein’s Monster.”
Brick Brody: “That took balance he barely had. Lancelot is tough, but Dr. Frankenstein just tilted the table.”
Julian Ward: “Honest Abe warns Dr. Frankenstein, but the damage to the rhythm has already been done.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “Merlin answers in his own way, guiding Sir Lancelot toward the crystal ball for a moment of clarity.”
Brick Brody: “And now the wizard wants to bend the night back. Everybody’s got tricks when the stakes get high.”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster tries to defend against the disruption, but cannot fully prevent Merlin’s guidance from shifting the moment.”
Brick Brody: “It didn’t score much, but it bought Lancelot time. Sometimes time is the only medicine you get.”
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster restores control with another Heavy Hand, driving the Back Smash through Sir Lancelot’s defense.”
Brick Brody: “That is a clubbing shot. Lancelot tried to cover up, and it didn’t matter.”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster covers again.”
Honest Abe drops down.
“One!”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot kicks out at one.”
Brick Brody: “That was pride from Lancelot. Dangerous pride, maybe, but pride.”
Julian Ward: “The kickout is early, but the damage remains. Frankenstein’s Monster has repeatedly punished the back and body of Sir Lancelot.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster catches Sir Lancelot and bends him across the knee with The Clamp, a Pendulum Back Breaker.”
Brick Brody: “Now that is cruel. That’s not just impact, that’s stretching the spine until the body starts bargaining.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot answers with a Superkick, but Frankenstein’s Monster keeps hold and tightens The Clamp.”
Brick Brody: “There’s nowhere noble to go in that hold. You either escape, submit, or break.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot refuses to submit. He reaches, twists, fights through the pressure, and survives.”
Brick Brody: “He survived, but surviving a backbreaker doesn’t mean your back forgives you.”
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Another defensive clash, and then Frankenstein’s Monster lands the Heavy Hand again.”
Brick Brody: “Same target. Same punishment. That’s how you grind somebody down.”
Julian Ward: “But Sir Lancelot comes back with a Running Bulldog, finally pulling Frankenstein’s Monster down face-first.”
Brick Brody: “That was a much better attempt than earlier. Lancelot learned, adjusted, and made it count.”
Julian Ward: “Even now, after all this punishment, Sir Lancelot is still finding ways to alter the shape of the match.”
Minute 18
Julian Ward: “Merlin throws flash powder near the ropes, looking for a distraction that might open the door for Sir Lancelot.”
Brick Brody: “That’s desperation from the wizard. Smoke, powder, tricks, anything to slow the monster down.”
Julian Ward: “But Frankenstein’s Monster neutralizes it. He turns through the distraction and refuses to lose focus.”
Brick Brody: “That’s bad news for Lancelot. When even the magic doesn’t make him blink, what’s left?”
Julian Ward: “Merlin’s attempt fails to shift control, and Frankenstein’s Monster is still standing in command.”
Minute 19
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster catches Sir Lancelot again. He powers him up, charges forward, and drives him down with The Flat Liner.”
Brick Brody: “That’s it. That’s the same Running Power Slam that hurt him early, and this one landed even worse.”
Julian Ward: “Sir Lancelot tried to defend, but he could not stop the impact. Frankenstein’s Monster hooks the leg.”
Honest Abe slides into position.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
The bell rings.
The crowd erupts into a stunned mixture of boos, cheers, and uneasy noise as Frankenstein’s Monster remains over Sir Lancelot for a moment before slowly rising.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner, Frankenstein’s Monster!”
Dr. Frankenstein climbs onto the apron, his face burning with vindication. He points down at Sir Lancelot, shouting words the camera cannot fully catch.
Merlin enters the ring and kneels beside Sir Lancelot, checking on him as Honest Abe keeps distance between both corners.
Frankenstein’s Monster turns toward Merlin.
For a moment, the coliseum holds its breath.
But Frankenstein’s Monster does not attack.
He only stares.
Then Dr. Frankenstein calls to him sharply from the ropes. Frankenstein’s Monster looks away and steps through the ropes to the floor.
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster has defeated Sir Lancelot with repeated, overwhelming force. The story of this match was pressure. Every time Sir Lancelot found light, Frankenstein’s Monster dragged him back beneath the weight.”
Brick Brody: “That was a beating dressed up as a match. Lancelot fought hard, and I respect that, but respect doesn’t get your hand raised. Frankenstein’s Monster hit harder, hit heavier, and kept taking pieces until there wasn’t enough knight left.”
Julian Ward: “With Dr. Frankenstein guiding him and Merlin unable to fully turn the tide, Frankenstein’s Monster continues to carve a path through Camelot’s proudest names. Tonight, Sir Lancelot falls, and the question becomes what remains when honor meets something that cannot be reasoned with.”
RESULT: FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER DEFEATS SIR LANCELOT BY PINFALL AT THE 19 MINUTE MARK WITH THE FLAT LINER, A RUNNING POWER SLAM.
The camera returns to the ring.
The air inside Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum feels colder now, as if the interview from moments earlier has followed the broadcast back into the arena. The crowd remains loud, but the sound carries unease beneath it.
The lights dim to a pale gold.
A single lute note plays.
Then another.
The stage screen fills with the image of green banners stirring beneath torchlight. The sound builds into a brisk traveling rhythm, proud but restless, and Allan A Dale steps onto the stage.
He pauses beneath the lights, looking across the crowd with a confident half-smile. His confidence is not arrogance. It is defiance. The kind carried by men who know the darkness is real and choose to sing anyway.
Julian Ward: “Allan A Dale enters tonight with the spirit of Sherwood behind him. He has brought voice, courage, and movement to the Merry Band, but tonight he faces something that does not answer music with mercy.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the problem with singers, Julian. They think a good tune can carry them through a fight. Sandman doesn’t care about the chorus. He cares about shutting the room up.”
Allan A Dale walks down the ramp, slapping a few hands along the barricade, but his eyes keep drifting toward the ring. The earlier words of Sandman hang over the match before Sandman even appears.
Allan A Dale rolls into the ring and rises quickly, moving to his corner with energy in his feet and tension in his shoulders.
The lights go out.
The music dies.
For several seconds, there is only darkness.
Then grains of sand begin to fall across the stage screen.
Slowly.
Endlessly.
A low, breath-like sound rolls through the coliseum.
The stage fills with dim amber light, and Sandman appears.
He stands still at the top of the ramp, head slightly lowered, hands loose at his sides. He does not look at the crowd. He does not look impressed by the arena, by Allan A Dale, or by the noise pressing in around him.
He begins walking.
Every step is slow.
Every step feels final.
Julian Ward: “Earlier tonight, Sandman said that iron rusts, music fades, and all things, in time, sleep. He now walks toward Allan A Dale with that same dreadful patience.”
Brick Brody: “That’s what makes him dangerous. He doesn’t rush because he doesn’t think he has to. Sandman fights like time is already on his side.”
Sandman reaches the ring, climbs onto the apron, and steps through the ropes. He looks across at Allan A Dale without expression.
Allan A Dale bounces once on the balls of his feet, trying to stay loose.
Sandman remains still.
In the center of the ring, Louie Linville raises the microphone.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall.”
The crowd cheers.
Louie Linville: “The referee assigned to this match is Honest Abe.”
Honest Abe steps forward and checks both competitors.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first, standing in the corner to my right. A voice of rebellion, a blade beneath the song, representing the will of Sherwood, Allan A Dale!”
The crowd gives Allan A Dale a strong cheer as he raises one hand, his face focused.
Louie Linville: “And his opponent, standing in the corner to my left. He is the dream that darkens, the silence beneath the hourglass, Sandman!”
The reaction turns uneasy. Some boo. Some fall quiet.
Sandman does not acknowledge any of it.
Honest Abe calls both men forward, gives final instructions, and signals for the bell.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Sandman moves first with a Standing Clothesline, stepping through Allan A Dale and cutting him down with blunt force.”
Brick Brody: “That’ll stop a song quick. Nothing fancy. Arm out, body down.”
Julian Ward: “But Allan A Dale rolls with the impact and answers immediately with Travelling Troubador, the Swinging Neckbreaker snapping Sandman down to the mat.”
Brick Brody: “That was sharp. Allan A Dale got hit hard, but he didn’t freeze. He turned the collision into a counterstrike.”
Julian Ward: “A fast and physical opening from both men. Sandman brings weight and inevitability, while Allan A Dale brings motion and timing.”
Brick Brody: “Motion better stay moving. The second Allan A Dale gets caught standing still, Sandman is going to bury him.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Sandman closes in again and catches Allan A Dale with Go To Sleep, driving the knee upward with sudden, jarring impact.”
Brick Brody: “That was a bad landing for Allan A Dale. Head, jaw, balance, all of it compromised in one shot.”
Julian Ward: “Still, Allan A Dale fights through the damage and plants Sandman with a Double Arn DDT.”
Brick Brody: “That kid is tough. He got rocked and still spiked Sandman down. I’ll give him that.”
Julian Ward: “But even after the DDT, Sandman is rising with that same slow calm. Allan A Dale is scoring, but he has not changed the expression or the rhythm of Sandman.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the frightening part. Allan A Dale is landing offense, and Sandman looks like he’s just waiting for the hour to turn.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Sandman steps inside another exchange and locks in the Sleeper. His arms are wrapped tight around Allan A Dale, cutting off escape before it can form.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. The song just got caught in the throat.”
Julian Ward: “Allan A Dale reaches for the ropes, trying to shift his weight, trying to create space. He manages to drive forward and land another Double Arn DDT, but Sandman refuses to release the hold completely.”
Brick Brody: “That is nasty control. Allan A Dale hit the move, but Sandman kept the trap.”
Julian Ward: “Sandman tightens the Sleeper again. Allan A Dale drops to one knee. Honest Abe is in close, asking the question.”
Brick Brody: “He’s got nowhere to sing now. No air, no leverage, no way out.”
Julian Ward: “Allan A Dale tries to stand, but Sandman pulls him back into the center. The resistance fades. Honest Abe checks again.”
Allan A Dale taps.
The bell rings.
Honest Abe calls for the submission, and Sandman releases the hold only after the decision is official.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner, Sandman!”
Allan A Dale rolls to his side, coughing and clutching at his throat as Honest Abe checks on him. The crowd boos the sudden finality of the finish, while Sandman rises slowly and looks down at Allan A Dale without triumph.
Without anger.
Without hurry.
Julian Ward: “Sandman has defeated Allan A Dale in swift and unsettling fashion. Allan A Dale fought with movement, courage, and resilience, but once Sandman locked in the Sleeper, the match became exactly what Sandman promised earlier tonight. Music fading into silence.”
Brick Brody: “That was cold. Allan A Dale had fire, but fire needs air. Sandman took the air away and ended the whole thing.”
Julian Ward: “After two victories over John Henry, Sandman now turns back another rising voice of this division. The lesson is harsh, but unmistakable. Under Sandman’s shadow, potential must survive time before it can become truth.”
RESULT: SANDMAN DEFEATS ALLAN A DALE BY SUBMISSION AT THE 3 MINUTE MARK WITH THE SLEEPER.
The camera cuts backstage.
The stone corridors beneath Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum are quieter here, away from the roar of the crowd, but not peaceful. The noise still reaches through the walls in distant waves, like thunder rolling over old battlements.
Hana Nakamura stands near a hanging blue-and-gold banner marked with the crest of Camelot. She holds a microphone in both hands, her expression bright but serious.
Beside her stands Robin Hood.
He wears the relaxed half-smile of a man who knows how to make danger feel lighter than it is. But tonight, there is less mischief in his eyes. His bow is not in hand. His posture is open, but guarded. He looks like a man prepared to laugh, but not quite able to forget what waits ahead.
Hana Nakamura: “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, Robin Hood.”
The live crowd inside the arena cheers loudly.
Robin Hood gives a small nod toward the camera, then glances toward the sound of the crowd with warmth.
Robin Hood: “Always kind to hear honest voices in a place with so much polished stone.”
Hana Nakamura smiles briefly, then turns the conversation forward.
Hana Nakamura: “Robin Hood, later tonight you face Mordred. That is not just a difficult match. It is a dangerous one. Mordred has made his hatred for Camelot clear, and you have become one of the loudest voices standing against corruption, cruelty, and power without conscience. What is your mindset going into that match?”
Robin Hood looks down for a moment, then back toward Hana Nakamura.
Robin Hood: “My mindset is simple, Hana Nakamura. I know who Mordred is. I know what he carries. Bitterness, old wounds, and a crown-shaped hunger that has never healed properly.”
He shifts his weight slightly.
Robin Hood: “A man like Mordred does not walk into a fight looking for victory alone. He walks in wanting proof that the world is as cruel as he believes it to be.”
Hana Nakamura: “And what do you want to prove?”
Robin Hood lets out a small breath, almost a laugh, but it does not reach his eyes.
Robin Hood: “That the world does not belong only to those born closest to the throne.”
The crowd reaction rises from inside the arena.
Robin Hood: “The royal class would do well to remember something. Every castle stone was carried by common hands. Every banner was stitched by common fingers. Every feast on a lord’s table began in a field worked by someone who never gets invited through the front gate.”
He turns slightly toward the camera.
Robin Hood: “So when men with titles speak of order, they should speak with respect for the people who hold that order upright.”
Hana Nakamura nods, listening closely.
Robin Hood: “I do not hate crowns, Hana Nakamura. I do not hate kings. A good king can shelter the weak. A just king can turn law into mercy. But a king who forgets the people beneath the balcony starts to sound less like a protector and more like a collector.”
The words linger.
Hana Nakamura hesitates for a beat before continuing.
Hana Nakamura: “That brings me to King Arthur. Last week, he addressed Camelot after defending the Mythic Crown Championship through an incredibly difficult stretch. He spoke about surviving Mordred, surviving Frankenstein’s Monster, and proving that the crown was not in peril. He also said Camelot would no longer merely endure. It would command.”
Robin Hood’s smile fades by a fraction.
Not gone.
Just dimmed.
Hana Nakamura: “You and King Arthur have been allies. You have stood on the same side against some very dark forces. When you heard those words, what did you think?”
Robin Hood takes his time before answering.
Robin Hood: “I thought my friend had earned the right to be tired.”
Hana Nakamura softens slightly.
Robin Hood: “And I thought my friend had earned the right to be proud.”
He looks toward the corridor wall, where the Camelot banner hangs still in the torchlight.
Robin Hood: “King Arthur has fought wars in the span where other men would have asked for rest. Mordred came at him with every shadow from beneath the throne. Frankenstein’s Monster came at him with power enough to bend the ring around him. Then came another trial, another defense, another reason for the crown to feel heavier.”
He turns back to Hana Nakamura.
Robin Hood: “I will not stand here and pretend that means nothing. It means a great deal.”
Hana Nakamura: “But?”
Robin Hood gives her a knowing look.
Robin Hood: “That is a sharp little word, Hana Nakamura.”
Hana Nakamura: “It felt like there was one.”
Robin Hood nods once.
Robin Hood: “But pride is a cup best sipped, not swallowed whole.”
The crowd reacts quietly from the arena feed.
Robin Hood: “When King Arthur says Camelot stands, I cheer with the rest. When he says the crown survived war, I do not argue. I watched that war. I know what it cost.”
His expression grows more serious.
Robin Hood: “But when a king begins speaking as though the crown itself is proof enough, when he says Camelot must command, when the word outlaw starts to sound too close to the word enemy, then a friend has a duty to listen carefully.”
Hana Nakamura: “Do you think he was talking about you?”
Robin Hood pauses.
For the first time, the easy answer does not come.
Robin Hood: “I hope not.”
A quiet beat.
Robin Hood: “I truly hope not.”
Hana Nakamura: “Are you concerned about him?”
Robin Hood looks toward the arena doors, where the crowd noise swells again.
Robin Hood: “I am concerned for him.”
He lets that distinction settle.
Robin Hood: “There is a difference. King Arthur is my friend. He has been my ally. I believe there is goodness in him, and I believe Camelot is better with that goodness alive in its king.”
He turns back to the camera.
Robin Hood: “But thrones are high places. The longer a man sits above others, the easier it becomes to mistake distance for wisdom.”
Hana Nakamura draws the microphone closer.
Hana Nakamura: “What would you say to King Arthur directly?”
Robin Hood takes a breath.
The mischief returns faintly, but now it carries sadness beneath it.
Robin Hood: “I would say, my king, remember the road before the ramp. Remember the mud before the marble. Remember that the people cheering your name are not subjects beneath your boot. They are the reason the kingdom matters at all.”
He looks straight into the camera.
Robin Hood: “And remember that a crown is not home because it sits on the right head.”
A pause.
Robin Hood: “It is home because the people beneath it still feel sheltered.”
Hana Nakamura: “Tonight, before any of that can be addressed, you have Mordred.”
Robin Hood nods, his expression sharpening.
Robin Hood: “Aye. Mordred first.”
He straightens slightly.
Robin Hood: “The wounded prince with a broken crown and a bottomless grudge. He would love nothing more than to tear down Camelot and call the rubble justice.”
Hana Nakamura: “How do you stop him?”
Robin Hood smiles again.
This time, it is sharper.
Robin Hood: “Same way common folk have always stopped cruel men with grand names.”
He steps a little closer to the microphone.
Robin Hood: “Stand together. Hit hard. Get back up. Refuse to bow just because someone says history belongs to them.”
The crowd cheers loudly from inside the arena.
Robin Hood: “Tonight, Mordred finds out that the forest still has teeth.”
Hana Nakamura: “Robin Hood, thank you.”
Robin Hood gives her a small bow, respectful but playful.
Robin Hood: “Always a pleasure, Hana Nakamura.”
He begins to walk away, then stops.
His eyes drift once more toward the Camelot banner.
The smile slips again.
Only for a second.
Robin Hood: “And Arthur?”
He does not turn fully back to the camera.
Robin Hood: “Do not make the common man your warning.”
He walks down the corridor and disappears around the stone corner.
Hana Nakamura remains still, watching him leave.
Her usual brightness is tempered now by concern.
Hana Nakamura: “Robin Hood faces Mordred later tonight, but his words for King Arthur may echo even longer. Back to ringside.”
The camera lingers on the Camelot banner.
Torchlight flickers across the crest.
For a moment, the gold looks almost too bright.
Then the broadcast cuts away.
The camera returns to ringside.
The lights inside Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum sink into a pale, ghostly blue. The crowd noise lowers into uneasy anticipation as a thin veil of mist gathers along the entranceway.
The stage screen flickers.
For a moment, it shows nothing.
Then a white mask appears in darkness.
A low drum sounds once.
Then again.
Lord Kurogami steps onto the stage first.
He moves with deliberate ceremony, his presence rigid and commanding. His eyes remain fixed on the ring, his expression cold beneath the shadows. Behind him, almost as if drawn forward by the silence itself, comes Yurei Rinn.
She does not play to the crowd.
She barely seems to acknowledge them.
Her movements are smooth and unsettling, her gaze distant and haunted. She walks behind Lord Kurogami like a spirit given instruction, calm in a way that feels less peaceful than empty.
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn enters with Lord Kurogami at her side, and there is something deeply unnerving about the stillness between them. She does not appear eager. She does not appear afraid. She simply arrives.”
Brick Brody: “That’s what makes her dangerous. You can read anger. You can read nerves. I don’t know what you read in Yurei Rinn, and I don’t think I want to find out.”
Lord Kurogami reaches ringside and stops near the steps. He turns his head slowly toward Honest Abe, who watches from inside the ring.
Yurei Rinn climbs onto the apron and steps through the ropes. She moves to the center of the ring, then slowly turns toward her corner without expression.
The lights shift.
The pale blue breaks into golden strands across the stage, like sunlight catching through a tower window. The crowd rises with a warmer reaction as Rapunzel steps out.
She stands tall, composed, and determined. There is no fear in her posture, but there is awareness in her eyes. She looks toward Yurei Rinn, then toward Lord Kurogami, understanding that tonight she faces more than one kind of threat.
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel has endured shadows, curses, and the weight of this division’s cruelties. Tonight she stands opposite Yurei Rinn, but the influence of Lord Kurogami cannot be ignored.”
Brick Brody: “That’s part of the fight. You want clean and easy, go wrestle in a fairy garden. This is Dark Fable. There’s always something waiting near the ropes.”
Rapunzel walks down the ramp with steady resolve. She keeps her eyes forward, refusing to let Lord Kurogami’s presence break her rhythm.
She enters the ring and steps to her corner, stretching her shoulders while watching Yurei Rinn carefully.
In the center of the ring, Louie Linville raises the microphone.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall.”
The crowd cheers.
Louie Linville: “The referee assigned to this match is Honest Abe.”
Honest Abe raises a hand and looks toward both corners.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by Lord Kurogami. She is the pale echo at the edge of battle, the silence that walks between worlds, Yurei Rinn!”
A low, mixed reaction rolls through the coliseum.
Yurei Rinn remains motionless.
Louie Linville: “And her opponent. Standing against shadow with courage and strength, she is Rapunzel!”
The crowd cheers strongly as Rapunzel steps forward and nods once.
Honest Abe gives final instructions. Lord Kurogami remains at ringside, standing too still, his attention fixed on the official.
Honest Abe signals for the bell.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn starts with sudden force, catching Rapunzel and driving her down with a Hammerlock Spinning Tombstone.”
Brick Brody: “That is a vicious opening. Twist the arm, drop the head, and make the whole body remember the landing.”
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel answers quickly with a Bridging Back Rack, showing impressive strength and balance after that dangerous first impact.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a tough answer. Rapunzel got spiked and still found the power to bend Yurei Rinn backward.”
Julian Ward: “A heavy opening exchange from both women, and already this match carries danger around the neck and spine.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn lifts Rapunzel and snaps her over with a Falcon Arrow, driving her into the mat with clean control.”
Brick Brody: “Smooth and nasty. Yurei Rinn moves like she doesn’t waste a single breath.”
Julian Ward: “But Rapunzel catches her on the return and powers through with a Pop Up Samoan Drop.”
Brick Brody: “That’ll change the mood. Rapunzel just showed Yurei Rinn this isn’t going to be all ghost stories and pretty timing.”
Julian Ward: “The early moments are balanced, but the physicality is already severe.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel keeps the pressure moving now, rolling Yurei Rinn through with a Rolling Fireman’s Carry.”
Brick Brody: “Good offense. She didn’t wait for Yurei Rinn to set the pace again. She took the wheel.”
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn tries to defend, but Rapunzel drives through the attempt and completes the takedown.”
Brick Brody: “That’s how you deal with somebody eerie. Don’t stare at the mist. Hit what’s standing in front of you.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel follows with another burst of power, lifting Yurei Rinn into a second Pop Up Samoan Drop.”
Brick Brody: “Now Rapunzel is stacking the damage. Same message, different landing.”
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn cannot defend in time, and Rapunzel has seized control after that opening storm.”
Brick Brody: “Control matters, but watch Lord Kurogami out there. He looks like a man waiting for the right shadow to move.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn breaks the rhythm with a Reverse Neckbreaker, pulling Rapunzel down sharply.”
Brick Brody: “That’ll stop momentum quick. The neck doesn’t care how well the match was going.”
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel answers with another Bridging Back Rack, again forcing Yurei Rinn’s body into a strained position.”
Brick Brody: “I like that from Rapunzel. She keeps going back to power. Don’t let Yurei Rinn float around. Make her carry weight.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn steps in with rapid Elbow Strikes, but Rapunzel neutralizes them before they can build momentum.”
Brick Brody: “That was good defense. Rapunzel got her guard up and took away the flurry.”
Julian Ward: “For the first time, Yurei Rinn’s offense is fully stopped. Rapunzel is reading the tempo better now.”
Brick Brody: “And that frustrates people. Or spirits. Whatever Yurei Rinn is tonight.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn changes direction and attacks the arm, pulling Rapunzel into a Cross Armbar.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the kind of hold that can turn strength into a liability. Big arms still bend the wrong way.”
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel keeps moving through the pain and lands a Standing Moonsault, using her own body weight to break the rhythm of the hold.”
Brick Brody: “That was risky. But it worked. She made impact before Yurei Rinn could settle in and start tearing at the joint.”
Julian Ward: “The match remains close, but Rapunzel continues to prevent Yurei Rinn from sustaining control.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn catches Rapunzel again with a Reverse Neckbreaker, and this time Rapunzel absorbs the full punishment.”
Brick Brody: “That one landed clean. Rapunzel couldn’t answer, and that matters.”
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn has returned to the neck, an area she damaged in the opening minute. There is a cold logic to that attack.”
Brick Brody: “Cold logic wins fights. Pick a target, revisit it, make it worse.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Now Lord Kurogami steps closer to the apron. He fixes Honest Abe with the Oni’s Gaze, and the official is visibly unsettled.”
Brick Brody: “That look could stop a clock. Honest Abe better remember he’s wearing stripes, not armor.”
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel tries to protest the intimidation, but Lord Kurogami has already disrupted the flow of the match.”
Brick Brody: “That’s not a punch. That’s not a trip. That’s control without touching anybody.”
Julian Ward: “Honest Abe warns Lord Kurogami, but the damage is done. Yurei Rinn has been given time to recover.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel refuses to be drawn into the outside game. She turns back and plants Yurei Rinn with another Pop Up Samoan Drop.”
Brick Brody: “That’s exactly what she needed. Don’t argue with the demon at ringside. Slam the opponent in front of you.”
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn tries to defend, but Rapunzel powers straight through. The momentum swings back toward Rapunzel.”
Brick Brody: “She’s got the stronger offense tonight. Every time Yurei Rinn drifts close, Rapunzel puts her back on the mat.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel follows with the Rolling Fireman’s Carry, and again Yurei Rinn cannot defend it.”
Brick Brody: “She’s starting to roll downhill now. Yurei Rinn is getting caught in the same power patterns.”
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel covers.”
Honest Abe drops into position.
“One!”
“Two!”
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “That cover cost Rapunzel a little momentum. She had the damage, but not enough to finish.”
Julian Ward: “Still, it is the first serious pin attempt of the match, and Rapunzel has forced Yurei Rinn into survival.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel stays on her and drives Yurei Rinn down with a Powerslam.”
Brick Brody: “Good. No hesitation after the kickout. Pick her up and punish her for staying alive.”
Julian Ward: “Yurei Rinn attempts to defend, but Rapunzel overpowers her once again. The strength advantage has become undeniable.”
Brick Brody: “And Lord Kurogami knows it. Look at him. That mask is thinking.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Lord Kurogami climbs closer now, and he reveals the Mask of Wrath, threatening Honest Abe from the apron.”
Brick Brody: “That is not subtle. That is menace in full costume.”
Julian Ward: “Honest Abe turns toward Lord Kurogami, and Rapunzel uses the moment to keep her focus where it belongs. She catches Yurei Rinn with another Rolling Fireman’s Carry.”
Brick Brody: “That’s awareness from Rapunzel. The manager tries to steal the match, and she steals the opening instead.”
Julian Ward: “Lord Kurogami gets away with the interference, but it has not saved Yurei Rinn. Rapunzel turns into the cover.”
Honest Abe drops to the mat.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
The bell rings.
The crowd erupts as Rapunzel rolls away from the cover and rises to one knee, breathing hard but victorious.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner, Rapunzel!”
Lord Kurogami stands frozen at ringside, his masked gaze fixed on Honest Abe, then on Rapunzel. Yurei Rinn lies on the mat, one arm across her midsection, staring upward with that same distant emptiness.
Rapunzel gets to her feet and does not celebrate immediately. She looks toward Lord Kurogami, then toward Yurei Rinn, fully aware of how close the interference came to shifting the outcome.
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel has defeated Yurei Rinn, and she did so while enduring the presence and intimidation of Lord Kurogami. This was not only a contest of strength against silence. It was a contest of focus against fear.”
Brick Brody: “I’ll give Rapunzel credit. Lord Kurogami tried to bend the referee, tried to twist the room, and Rapunzel kept throwing Yurei Rinn until the count stuck.”
Julian Ward: “For Yurei Rinn, the haunt remains, but tonight it was Rapunzel who stood firm. In a match surrounded by shadow, she found the clear path to victory.”
RESULT: RAPUNZEL DEFEATS YUREI RINN BY PINFALL AT THE 13 MINUTE MARK WITH A ROLLING FIREMAN’S CARRY.
The camera returns to the ring.
The crowd inside Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum is still unsettled from the sight of Rapunzel overcoming Yurei Rinn and Lord Kurogami’s intimidation. The noise rises again as the stage lights begin to change.
Green light cuts through the darkness.
A drumbeat begins.
Then the sound of a bowstring snapping tight echoes through the arena.
The stage screen fills with the image of Sherwood branches crossing over the stone crest of Camelot. The crowd erupts as Robin Hood steps onto the stage.
He stands at the top of the ramp with a half-smile, but there is a sharpness beneath it tonight. The earlier words from backstage still hang around him. Concern for King Arthur. Defiance toward the royal class. A warning to any throne that forgets the common hands beneath it.
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood walks into this match carrying more than rebellion tonight. He carries concern. For Camelot, for King Arthur, and for what power can become when it forgets the people it claims to protect.”
Brick Brody: “Concern is a fine thing to talk about backstage. In the ring with Mordred, concern gets punched in the mouth.”
Robin Hood walks down the ramp, slapping hands with fans along the barricade. He pauses near a child holding a green banner and gives a quick nod before turning toward the ring.
He rolls under the bottom rope, rises smoothly, and looks back toward the entranceway.
The green light dies.
The coliseum darkens.
A low metallic scrape crawls through the speakers.
The stage screen shows a cracked iron crown resting in ash. Torchlight flickers across it, then fades into black.
Myrdden steps onto the stage first.
Hooded.
Silent.
His hands are folded inside dark sleeves, his face half-hidden beneath shadow. He does not look at the crowd. He only lowers his head slightly, as if acknowledging something older than the building itself.
Behind him comes Mordred.
The reaction turns hostile, but Mordred does not absorb it like insult. He seems to welcome it as proof. His armor catches the faint torchlight in hard edges. His expression is cold, restrained, and filled with old grievance that has learned patience.
Julian Ward: “Mordred comes with Myrdden at his side, and every step feels like a reminder that the Broken Crown has not forgotten its war.”
Brick Brody: “That’s what makes Mordred dangerous. He lost the crown match, but he didn’t lose the hatred. Hatred like that keeps sharpening itself.”
Myrdden walks slightly ahead of Mordred, stopping at ringside without a word. Mordred climbs the steps and enters the ring, his eyes fixed on Robin Hood.
Robin Hood does not back away.
In the center of the ring, Louie Linville lifts the microphone.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall.”
The crowd responds loudly.
Louie Linville: “The referee assigned to this match is Honest Abe.”
Honest Abe steps forward, keeping one eye on Myrdden at ringside.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first, standing in the corner to my right. The outlaw blade of Sherwood, the voice of the common man, the merry rogue who refuses to bow, Robin Hood!”
The crowd cheers hard as Robin Hood raises one hand, then points toward the people in the stands.
Louie Linville: “And his opponent, accompanied to the ring by Myrdden. He is the grievance beneath the throne, the heir of the Broken Crown, Mordred!”
Boos fill the coliseum.
Mordred steps forward, unmoved.
Honest Abe gives final instructions. Robin Hood stays loose, eyes alert. Mordred stands rigid, staring through him.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood moves first, springing forward with a Senton and forcing Mordred to absorb the early impact.”
Brick Brody: “Good start from Robin Hood. Don’t let the dark prince get comfortable. Hit him before he starts brooding.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred answers with a Vertical Suplex, lifting Robin Hood and bringing him down with controlled force.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the difference. Robin Hood attacks with motion. Mordred answers with punishment.”
Julian Ward: “A tight opening exchange. Robin Hood shows speed and instinct, while Mordred immediately reminds him that every opening carries a cost.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood pulls Mordred toward the apron and drives him down with an Apron Powerbomb. That is a dangerous landing on the hardest edge of the ring.”
Brick Brody: “That one had teeth. Robin Hood just gave Mordred a taste of outlaw cruelty.”
Julian Ward: “But Mordred answers with an Inverted Sitdown Faceslam before tumbling to the outside. Both men have taken serious damage early.”
Honest Abe begins the count.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
Julian Ward: “Mordred is on the floor, gathering himself near Myrdden.”
“Four!”
“Five!”
Brick Brody: “There’s no panic in Mordred. He’s using the count. Smart.”
“Six!”
“Seven!”
Julian Ward: “Mordred returns to the ring at seven, and this match continues.”
Brick Brody: “He took the floor, took the count, and came back on his terms.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood catches Mordred before he can fully reset and plants him with a Package Piledriver.”
Brick Brody: “That is a brutal move from the people’s hero. I like it. Nothing says common man like dropping royalty on his head.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred attempts to defend, but Robin Hood drives through. That was the cleanest, most dangerous strike of the match so far.”
Brick Brody: “Now we find out if Robin Hood wants to win a fight or make a speech. Stay on him.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood follows with a DDT, snapping Mordred down again.”
Brick Brody: “He is targeting the head and neck now. Smart, mean work.”
Julian Ward: “But Mordred rises into the exchange and catches Robin Hood with a Lifting Inverted DDT. He turns defense into a cover.”
Honest Abe drops to the mat.
“One!”
“Two!”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood kicks out.”
Brick Brody: “Good kickout, but Mordred showed him something there. You can be winning the minute and still get caught.”
Julian Ward: “That near fall shifts the temperature. Mordred only needs one opening to turn rebellion into survival.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Mordred takes control with another Vertical Suplex, and Robin Hood cannot fully defend against it.”
Brick Brody: “That’s Mordred dragging this into his kind of match. Less movement, more weight.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood lands hard and rolls toward the ropes. Mordred is slowing him down now.”
Brick Brody: “Exactly. The outlaw is dangerous when he can move. Make him carry pain, and the legs get honest.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood explodes back with Arrow’d End, the Stunner catching Mordred beneath the jaw.”
Brick Brody: “That one woke the building up. Mordred got cracked.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred still answers with a Clothesline, cutting Robin Hood down as both men stagger from the exchange.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a nasty trade. Robin Hood gets the highlight, Mordred makes sure he pays for it.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood had the stronger shot, but Mordred refuses to let the momentum become clean.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood goes back to the Senton, landing across Mordred and forcing air from the body.”
Brick Brody: “Keep hitting the body. Make the angry prince breathe through broken ribs.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred rises with another Clothesline, and again the exchange ends with both men feeling the cost.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the fight now. Robin Hood leaps in. Mordred swings back. Nobody gets a free moment.”
Julian Ward: “The match remains balanced, but the damage is building on both sides.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Mordred catches Robin Hood’s leg and turns him into the Sharpshooter. He has it locked in near the center of the ring.”
Brick Brody: “Now that is trouble. The outlaw can fly all he wants, but not when the legs are being torn apart.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood tries to defend, but Mordred sits deep into the hold. Honest Abe is checking closely.”
Brick Brody: “That hold is royal cruelty. Bend the back, twist the knees, make him crawl.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood refuses to submit. He drags himself forward, inch by inch, and forces the break. But Mordred has found a vital target.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood swings with a Superkick, trying to regain space after that submission hold.”
Brick Brody: “That’s instinct. When your legs are hurting, you throw the best kick you’ve got before they betray you.”
Julian Ward: “But Mordred drives through with a Spear, cutting Robin Hood down with tremendous force.”
Brick Brody: “That was ugly. Robin Hood hit him, and Mordred ran through him anyway.”
Julian Ward: “The Sharpshooter has slowed Robin Hood just enough for Mordred to meet his movement head-on.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood answers with a German Suplex, forcing Mordred over and down with impressive control.”
Brick Brody: “That took strength. Robin Hood still has fight in those legs.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred responds with yet another Clothesline, refusing to stay down long enough for Robin Hood to build a clean sequence.”
Brick Brody: “That clothesline is becoming a wall. Every time Robin Hood runs, he hits it.”
Julian Ward: “Both men are fighting through visible damage now, and neither has been able to fully break the other.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood looks for Arrow’d End again, but this time Mordred neutralizes it.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the adjustment. Mordred got caught once. He wasn’t getting embarrassed twice.”
Julian Ward: “That counter matters. One of Robin Hood’s most dangerous weapons has been read and stopped.”
Brick Brody: “And when a man blocks your best shot, doubt starts whispering.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood changes course and drives Mordred down with a Pumphandle Kneecap Brainbuster.”
Brick Brody: “That’s a nasty combination. Knee, head, balance, everything gets punished.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred still manages to answer with a Clothesline, but Robin Hood landed the heavier attack.”
Brick Brody: “He did, but he still got hit. That’s the miserable thing about fighting Mordred. You hurt him, and he makes sure you don’t enjoy it.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood goes up again with another Senton, trying to crush the air out of Mordred.”
Brick Brody: “He keeps going to that body. I like the plan.”
Julian Ward: “But Mordred catches the next moment with a Spear, driving Robin Hood down hard.”
Brick Brody: “That spear was a turning point. You could see Robin Hood’s back fold on impact.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred is using blunt, direct violence to cut off Robin Hood’s rhythm. The longer this continues, the more that earlier Sharpshooter may matter.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “Mordred charges again and hits another Spear. Robin Hood attempted to defend, but he could not stop it.”
Brick Brody: “That’s two spears in two minutes. Mordred isn’t wrestling now. He’s hunting.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred covers.”
Honest Abe counts.
“One!”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood kicks out at one.”
Brick Brody: “That is defiance. Maybe foolish, maybe brave, but defiance.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred looks displeased by the early kickout. Robin Hood is wounded, but he has not been humbled.”
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood fires back with another Package Piledriver, and Mordred is driven down hard.”
Brick Brody: “That was a big answer. Robin Hood keeps finding ways to spike Mordred when the match looks like it’s turning.”
Julian Ward: “But at ringside, Myrdden extends a hand and curses Robin Hood with a spell while Honest Abe is shifting position.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the shadow tax. You fight Mordred, you fight whatever that hooded thing brings with him.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood feels the effect immediately. The moment slows, the advantage blurs, and Mordred has been given space to recover.”
Brick Brody: “That wasn’t clean, but it was effective. Clean is for people without backup.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “Mordred takes advantage and drives Robin Hood into the mat with an Inverted Sitdown Faceslam.”
Brick Brody: “That’s exactly what Myrdden bought him. One cursed opening, one ugly landing.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood tries to defend, but he cannot stop the impact. Mordred is regaining control at a critical stage.”
Brick Brody: “And now the legs, the neck, the back, everything Robin Hood has been using to survive is starting to betray him.”
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood refuses to fade. Another Package Piledriver connects, and Mordred is dropped again.”
Brick Brody: “That outlaw has grit. I’ll give him that. He keeps pulling violence out of the dirt.”
Julian Ward: “Mordred answers with another Inverted Sitdown Faceslam, and both men are down after a punishing exchange.”
Brick Brody: “That one was a collision of stubbornness. Neither man had enough sense to stay down, so they both paid.”
Julian Ward: “The crowd is rising. They understand this match has become something more than position. It has become an argument over who gets to define Camelot’s future.”
Minute 18
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood tries to finish with yet another Package Piledriver, and he lands it. Mordred is hurt.”
Brick Brody: “That should have been the opening. That should have been Robin Hood’s moment.”
Julian Ward: “But Mordred catches the leg on the turn. He twists through and traps Robin Hood in the Sharpshooter again.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the bad leg. That’s the earlier damage. Mordred remembered.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood is in the center of the ring. The hold is deep. Mordred leans back with full pressure across the legs and spine.”
Brick Brody: “No jokes now. No smile. No song. That hold is ripping him apart.”
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood reaches forward, clawing for the ropes, but he is too far away. Honest Abe is asking the question.”
Robin Hood pushes up on both hands, his face twisted in pain.
Myrdden watches from ringside without movement.
Mordred tightens the hold.
Julian Ward: “Robin Hood is trying to endure, trying to drag himself one more inch.”
Brick Brody: “There is no inch left.”
Robin Hood taps the mat.
The bell rings.
The crowd erupts into boos and stunned noise as Mordred releases the Sharpshooter and rises slowly.
Louie Linville: “Here is your winner, Mordred!”
Robin Hood rolls to his side, clutching his lower back and leg as Honest Abe checks on him. Myrdden steps near the apron, silent and watchful.
Mordred stands over Robin Hood, breathing hard but cold-eyed, the victory settling over him like another layer of armor.
Then the crowd begins to shift.
A reaction moves through the coliseum before the camera catches why.
At the top of the ramp stands King Arthur.
The Mythic Crown Championship rests against his shoulder.
Blue and gold light spills behind him, framing him in royal color. He does not rush to the ring. He does not call for aid. He does not look alarmed.
He looks down at Robin Hood.
Then he looks at Mordred.
And King Arthur smiles.
Not broadly.
Not warmly.
Just enough.
The camera cuts to Robin Hood, still down on the mat, seeing King Arthur at the top of the ramp.
The pain in Robin Hood’s face changes.
For a moment, it is no longer just physical.
Mordred turns and sees King Arthur as well. His expression hardens, but he does not leave the ring.
Myrdden remains motionless at ringside, the hood hiding his face.
The crowd noise becomes uncertain, divided between confusion, concern, and the old instinct to cheer the king.
Julian Ward: “Mordred has defeated Robin Hood by submission, but the final image may speak louder than the result itself. King Arthur stands at the top of the ramp, looking upon a fallen ally and a defeated enemy, and he smiles.”
Brick Brody: “Maybe he liked what he saw. Maybe King Arthur knows both of these men are problems. One wants his crown, the other is starting to question how he wears it.”
Julian Ward: “Earlier tonight, Robin Hood hoped that King Arthur would not lose perspective. Tonight, from the top of that ramp, perspective has become a deeply unsettling thing.”
RESULT: MORDRED DEFEATS ROBIN HOOD BY SUBMISSION AT THE 18 MINUTE MARK WITH THE SHARPSHOOTER.
The camera holds on King Arthur.
The smile remains.
Then the broadcast cuts away.
The camera cuts backstage.
The corridor has been dressed in polished black and gold fabric, the colors catching the torchlight in rich flashes. The tone is brighter than the rest of the coliseum, but not soft. It feels like confidence sharpened into presentation.
Hana Nakamura stands with a microphone in hand, smiling with genuine energy.
Beside her stand the North Star Tag Team Champions, Dorothy and Alice, the Blonde Bombshells.
They are dressed in their signature black and gold, the championship titles resting proudly at their waists. Dorothy stands with composed glamour, chin lifted and eyes bright with certainty. Alice carries a more playful edge, smiling like she already knows the answer to every question before it is asked.
Beside them stands Rapunzel, also in black and gold, still carrying the physical toll of her victory earlier tonight. Her posture is steady, but her breathing is just a little heavier than usual. She has earned that fatigue.
Hana Nakamura: “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guests at this time, Rapunzel, and the reigning North Star Tag Team Champions, Dorothy and Alice, the Blonde Bombshells!”
A strong cheer rises from the arena feed.
Alice gives a bright little wave toward the camera.
Dorothy adjusts the title at her waist with calm pride.
Rapunzel nods once, her expression warm but focused.
Hana Nakamura: “Rapunzel, I want to start with you. Earlier tonight, you defeated Yurei Rinn, even with Lord Kurogami trying to influence the match from ringside. That was not just a physical challenge. That was a test of focus. How are you feeling after that win?”
Rapunzel: “Sore.”
Alice leans slightly toward the microphone.
Alice: “Honest.”
Rapunzel smiles faintly.
Rapunzel: “But proud. Yurei Rinn is difficult to prepare for. She does not fight like most opponents. She does not react like most opponents. And with Lord Kurogami standing there, watching every second, trying to turn the air colder than it already was, it would have been easy to lose focus.”
She looks down the corridor for a moment, then back to Hana Nakamura.
Rapunzel: “I did not lose focus. That matters to me.”
Hana Nakamura: “It absolutely does. And Dorothy, Alice, you are once again standing here as North Star Tag Team Champions. You have fought your way back to the top of the division. What does this reign mean right now?”
Dorothy smiles with polished confidence.
Dorothy: “It means the world has corrected itself.”
Alice nods immediately.
Alice: “Finally.”
Dorothy: “We have said from the beginning that the Blonde Bombshells are not a moment. We are not an accident. We are not a pretty chapter someone gets to close when they grow tired of us.”
She taps the faceplate of her championship.
Dorothy: “We are the standard.”
Alice: “And standards belong at the top.”
Hana Nakamura: “So you are confident you can take on all challengers?”
Alice: “Confident?”
She laughs lightly.
Alice: “Hana Nakamura, we are dressed in black and gold, standing under lights, holding the North Star Tag Team Championship titles, with Rapunzel beside us after another win. Confidence is not the question. The question is whether the rest of the division has finally accepted reality.”
Dorothy: “We will face all comers. Queens. Monsters. Saints. Wolves. Pretenders with sharp nails and sharper opinions. It does not matter.”
Rapunzel: “They will come.”
Dorothy: “And they will learn.”
A voice cuts in from off-camera.
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “How generous of you to teach lessons you barely survived yourselves.”
The mood changes instantly.
Hana Nakamura turns as Lady Isolde Blackthorne steps into frame, dressed with severe elegance and cold poise. Beside her comes Prioress Malveil, composed and austere, her expression carrying quiet judgment.
The crowd reaction from inside the arena turns hostile.
Alice rolls her eyes before Lady Isolde Blackthorne finishes stepping into place.
Alice: “Oh good. The storm cloud has a chaperone.”
Prioress Malveil fixes her eyes on Alice.
Prioress Malveil: “Mockery is often the language of those who know the truth has entered the room.”
Dorothy steps half a pace forward, keeping one hand on her championship.
Dorothy: “Truth? Is that what we are calling this now? Because the last truth I remember is Alice and I defeating you.”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne’s smile is thin and sharp.
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “You escaped us.”
Alice: “With the titles.”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “You were fortunate.”
Dorothy: “Still with the titles.”
Prioress Malveil: “Fortune has made many fools mistake themselves for champions.”
Rapunzel narrows her eyes slightly.
Rapunzel: “Careful.”
Prioress Malveil turns toward her.
Prioress Malveil: “And you. Fresh from victory, wrapped in borrowed shine, standing beside them as though one hard-fought win makes you untouchable.”
Rapunzel: “No. It makes me tested.”
Prioress Malveil: “Tested things break eventually.”
Alice steps in front of Rapunzel slightly, not because Rapunzel needs protection, but because the insult has crossed into family territory.
Alice: “That is adorable. Really. The dark robes, the cold stare, the little sermon voice. Very impressive. But here is the part you keep forgetting. You already had your chance.”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “A chance stolen by luck.”
Dorothy: “Luck does not hold championship gold this long.”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “No. Politics does. Noise does. Glitter does. The division rewards presentation because presentation is easier to sell than superiority.”
Dorothy’s expression hardens.
Dorothy: “Say that again.”
Hana Nakamura subtly shifts the microphone between them, her eyes widening as the tension rises.
Hana Nakamura: “Okay, everyone, maybe we can just take a breath here.”
Prioress Malveil: “Let them breathe. Champions should have time to enjoy oxygen before judgment arrives.”
Alice: “You really do practice these in a mirror, don’t you?”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne steps closer to Dorothy.
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “You parade those titles as proof that you are better than us. I see something different. I see two women who caught the right night, the right opening, the right fragile moment.”
Dorothy: “And I see two women who lost and cannot stop dressing bitterness up as destiny.”
The crowd reaction swells through the backstage monitor.
Rapunzel looks from Lady Isolde Blackthorne to Prioress Malveil.
Rapunzel: “You want another shot. Say that. Do not circle it like vultures.”
Prioress Malveil: “Very well.”
She turns her gaze back to Dorothy and Alice.
Prioress Malveil: “We want what was denied by circumstance. We want the North Star Tag Team Championship titles. We want the illusion of your reign stripped in front of everyone who applauds it.”
Alice: “There it is.”
Dorothy: “That was not so hard.”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “Do not mistake directness for pleading.”
Dorothy: “Do not mistake our confidence for fear.”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “Fear would be wise.”
Alice lifts her championship slightly.
Alice: “Fear clashes with the outfit.”
Hana Nakamura tries to regain control.
Hana Nakamura: “Dorothy, Alice, are you accepting that challenge?”
Dorothy looks at Alice.
Alice looks at Dorothy.
Neither hesitates.
Dorothy: “We said all comers.”
Alice: “Even repeat customers.”
Dorothy steps closer to Lady Isolde Blackthorne, the gold at her waist catching the light.
Dorothy: “You want another lesson? Fine. But understand this. The first time, you could call it luck. The second time, you will have to call it truth.”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “When we take those titles, I will call it correction.”
Prioress Malveil: “And when you fall, I will call it mercy that the lesson ended quickly.”
Rapunzel steps between the sides before they close any further.
Rapunzel: “Enough.”
Her voice is calm, but firm.
Rapunzel: “You want them. They accept. Save the rest for the ring.”
Prioress Malveil studies Rapunzel.
Prioress Malveil: “Still playing tower guard.”
Rapunzel: “Still standing.”
That lands.
Prioress Malveil’s expression tightens.
Lady Isolde Blackthorne gives Dorothy one last cold look.
Lady Isolde Blackthorne: “Enjoy the gold while it still flatters you.”
Alice: “Enjoy practicing excuses.”
Lady Isolde Blackthorne and Prioress Malveil turn and leave down the corridor, their black garments disappearing into the torchlit shadow.
Hana Nakamura exhales, then turns back toward the champions.
Hana Nakamura: “That became very intense, very quickly.”
Alice: “That is usually what happens when people interrupt us with bad manners and worse memories.”
Dorothy keeps watching the corridor where Lady Isolde Blackthorne and Prioress Malveil exited.
Dorothy: “Let them come.”
She looks back to the camera.
Dorothy: “We are not afraid of challengers who think elegance makes them dangerous.”
Alice: “We are not afraid of challengers at all.”
Rapunzel: “And they should not mistake confidence for weakness.”
Dorothy raises her championship slightly.
Dorothy: “The Blonde Bombshells are back on top.”
Alice raises hers beside her.
Alice: “And this time, everyone looking up had better get comfortable.”
Hana Nakamura: “Strong words from the North Star Tag Team Champions, Dorothy and Alice, with Rapunzel standing beside them. Back to ringside.”
The camera holds on the three women in black and gold.
The champions stand tall.
Rapunzel watches the corridor with quiet vigilance.
Then the broadcast cuts away.
The camera returns to ringside.
The air inside Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum has grown heavy.
The earlier image of King Arthur smiling from the top of the ramp still lingers over the night, but now the stage screen burns with a different symbol.
Flame.
Not bright.
Not comforting.
Deep red and gold fire coils across the screen as the Eternal Flame Championship graphic appears.
The crowd rises.
At ringside, Julian Ward and Brick Brody sit beneath the glow of the arena lights.
Julian Ward: “It is now time for our main event. The Eternal Flame Championship will be defended in a two-out-of-three falls match. Raigen, the champion, stands against Kaen, and with Lord Kurogami at ringside, the fire surrounding this title may become something far darker than competition.”
Brick Brody: “Good. A title like the Eternal Flame Championship shouldn’t be defended in comfort. It should be defended where it burns. Raigen wanted the flame. Tonight he gets to find out how long he can hold it.”
The lights cut to black.
A single gong sounds.
Then another.
The stage fills with deep crimson smoke as Lord Kurogami steps into view.
He is calm.
Too calm.
He stands beneath the entrance lights with his hands folded, his gaze fixed forward like a curse waiting to be spoken.
Behind him comes Kaen.
The challenger walks out beneath red and black light, jaw set, body coiled with violence. He does not look at the crowd. He does not gesture. He stares toward the ring as if the championship already belongs to him and the match is only the method required to collect it.
Julian Ward: “Kaen enters with purpose and menace. He has the confidence of a man who does not merely seek victory, but expects the champion to break beneath the attempt.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the right mindset. Don’t come for gold politely. Walk in like a thief with a battle plan.”
Lord Kurogami leads the way down the ramp, never hurrying. Kaen follows behind him, flexing his hands, rolling his neck, preparing not for a match but for a prolonged act of taking.
They reach ringside.
Lord Kurogami stops near the steps.
Kaen climbs onto the apron, steps through the ropes, and moves to his corner without looking away from the entranceway.
The arena lights shift.
The red fades into white-gold flame.
A sharp crack of thunder rolls through the coliseum.
Then the stage screen fills with the image of a dragon’s eye opening inside a ring of fire.
The crowd erupts as Raigen steps onto the stage with the Eternal Flame Championship around his waist.
The champion stands still for a moment, the title reflecting the light like forged sunfire. His posture is controlled. His face is unreadable. He carries exhaustion from recent wars, but not weakness. The transformation into Raigen the Maryu has made him quieter, not smaller.
He walks forward.
Measured.
Focused.
Alone.
Julian Ward: “Raigen has paid dearly for the man he has become. He has walked through betrayal, violence, and trial, and now the Eternal Flame Championship rests with him. Tonight, there is no single mistake to survive. Two falls are required to define the truth.”
Brick Brody: “And that favors the meaner man. One fall can be luck. Two falls means somebody got solved.”
Raigen reaches ringside and pauses near the apron. His eyes move from Kaen to Lord Kurogami, then back to Kaen.
He steps into the ring and removes the Eternal Flame Championship from his waist.
Slow-Count Sam takes the title, raises it high, and shows it to all sides of the coliseum.
The crowd roars.
In the center of the ring, Louie Linville lifts the microphone.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your main event of the evening.”
The coliseum erupts.
Louie Linville: “This contest is scheduled for two-out-of-three falls, and it is for the Eternal Flame Championship.”
The roar grows louder.
Louie Linville: “The referee assigned to this championship match is Slow-Count Sam.”
Slow-Count Sam lowers the title and gives both competitors a stern look.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first, the challenger, accompanied to the ring by Lord Kurogami. He is the violent hand of flame and shadow, Kaen!”
A harsh mixed reaction rolls through the arena.
Kaen steps forward, eyes locked on Raigen.
Louie Linville: “And his opponent. He is the reigning and defending Eternal Flame Champion, Raigen!”
The crowd explodes as Raigen raises the title once before handing it back to Slow-Count Sam.
Slow-Count Sam passes the championship to ringside, checks both wrestlers, and calls for the bell.
The bell rings.
Minute 1
Julian Ward: “Both men begin with caution, testing distance before Raigen strikes first with a Front Kick.”
Brick Brody: “That kick was a warning shot. Stay out of my space or pay for entering.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen answers by attacking the leg immediately, dragging Raigen down into an Ankle Lock.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the challenger’s plan. Take the base, take the balance, take the champion’s fire away from the ground up.”
Julian Ward: “Raigen is trapped early, but he refuses to submit. He twists toward the ropes and forces separation before the hold can deepen.”
Brick Brody: “He escaped, but that ankle just became part of the story.”
Minute 2
Julian Ward: “Raigen tries to answer with a Leglock, perhaps looking to return the same message.”
Brick Brody: “Tit for tat. Hurt my leg, I hurt yours.”
Julian Ward: “But Kaen reverses the hold and snaps Raigen over with a German Suplex. The champion absorbs the punishment, but that was a sharp counter.”
Brick Brody: “That’s how you punish a champion for getting cute. Raigen tried to wrestle the leg, and Kaen turned him into wreckage.”
Minute 3
Julian Ward: “Raigen comes forward with a Double Axhandle, bringing the strike down across Kaen.”
Brick Brody: “That’s blunt force. Not fancy, but it lands.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen answers with an Ushigoroshi, driving Raigen across the knee and continuing to attack the body with impact.”
Brick Brody: “Every exchange is tight, but Kaen is making his shots count heavier right now.”
Julian Ward: “The challenger is matching the champion strike for strike and finding ways to turn contact into punishment.”
Minute 4
Julian Ward: “Raigen throws Kaen out of the ring, sending the challenger to the floor.”
Slow-Count Sam begins the count.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
Julian Ward: “Kaen is down outside, but not disoriented. He is already pushing himself up.”
“Four!”
“Five!”
Julian Ward: “Kaen returns at five.”
Brick Brody: “Smart. Don’t waste time out there unless you mean to.”
Julian Ward: “But Kaen answers in kind with a Concrete Brainbuster, forcing Raigen to the outside as well.”
Slow-Count Sam counts again.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
“Four!”
“Five!”
Julian Ward: “Raigen makes it back at five, and both men have now felt the floor and the count.”
Brick Brody: “That was a nasty little mirror. Both men testing how far the other can be thrown before the match starts leaving marks outside the ropes.”
Minute 5
Julian Ward: “Raigen steps in with a Knee Lift, but Kaen neutralizes it before the champion can build momentum.”
Brick Brody: “Good scouting. Don’t let Raigen get those sudden strikes going.”
Julian Ward: “That was an important defensive stop by Kaen. He denied the impact and kept Raigen from turning the pace.”
Brick Brody: “Champions hate that. They expect their rhythm to matter. Kaen just told him no.”
Minute 6
Julian Ward: “Raigen traps Kaen now, pulling him into the Demon Sleeper.”
Brick Brody: “There it is. That hold changes the whole mood. Neck, breath, panic, all at once.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen reaches for the ankle again, trying to answer with another Ankle Lock, but he cannot fully secure it. Raigen has the Demon Sleeper locked in tight.”
Brick Brody: “That is champion control. Kaen wanted the leg, but Raigen got the throat.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen does not submit, but he is forced to endure the hold. The first serious championship danger belongs to Raigen.”
Minute 7
Julian Ward: “Raigen again looks for the Knee Lift, but Kaen neutralizes it for a second time.”
Brick Brody: “That move is not getting through tonight. Kaen has that one read.”
Julian Ward: “Repeated counters can begin to alter a champion’s confidence. Raigen is still composed, but Kaen is preventing him from establishing clean striking control.”
Brick Brody: “That’s how challengers steal titles. Not always with one big shot. Sometimes by taking away one weapon at a time.”
Minute 8
Julian Ward: “Kaen lunges in with a Headbutt, but Raigen reverses the attempt and throws Kaen out of the ring again.”
Brick Brody: “Good reversal by Raigen. He used Kaen’s own charge against him.”
Slow-Count Sam begins the count.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
“Four!”
“Five!”
Julian Ward: “Kaen returns at five once more. Raigen is using the outside to interrupt Kaen’s pressure, but he has not been able to keep him out there long.”
Brick Brody: “No, but the floor is adding bruises. In two-out-of-three falls, bruises matter.”
Minute 9
Julian Ward: “Raigen brings down another Double Axhandle, but Kaen reverses it.”
Brick Brody: “That was a big reversal. Raigen walked right into the turn.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen catches him with the GTR, the Spinning Headlock Lariat into Backbreaker. Raigen tries to defend, but cannot stop the impact.”
Brick Brody: “That was nasty. Head, neck, back, all taken in one sequence.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen has struck a major blow. The champion is down, and the challenger’s attack is becoming more precise.”
Minute 10
Julian Ward: “Raigen reaches deep and pulls Kaen into the Demon Sleeper again.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the great equalizer for Raigen tonight. When in doubt, take the air.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen absorbs the punishment, refusing to submit. But every second in that hold drains something vital.”
Brick Brody: “He can refuse all he wants. His body still has to pay the bill.”
Julian Ward: “A second application of the Demon Sleeper, and Raigen continues to show that his path to victory may be submission rather than impact.”
Minute 11
Julian Ward: “Raigen attacks the leg again with a Leglock, trying to slow Kaen and limit that explosive offense.”
Brick Brody: “That’s good work. Break the wheel before the wagon runs you over.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen answers with the Tokko Discus Lariat, catching Raigen as the hold loosens.”
Brick Brody: “That lariat didn’t get all of him, but it got enough.”
Julian Ward: “Both men score in the exchange. Raigen continues to target limbs and breath. Kaen continues to answer with impact.”
Minute 12
Julian Ward: “Kaen steps through and lands another Tokko Discus Lariat, and this time Raigen cannot fully defend.”
Brick Brody: “That one turned him. You could see Raigen’s body react before he hit the mat.”
Julian Ward: “The challenger has slowed the champion with repeated blunt-force counters. This first fall remains deeply contested.”
Brick Brody: “And Lord Kurogami has barely needed to move. That should worry Raigen.”
Minute 13
Julian Ward: “Both men pause after a defensive reset, and then Raigen strikes. He catches Kaen in the Demon Sleeper for the third time.”
Brick Brody: “Third time in that hold. That is a nightmare. The body remembers every second.”
Julian Ward: “At ringside, Lord Kurogami leans in and delivers a Whispered Curse toward the champion.”
Brick Brody: “That curse changed the air. You could feel it. Lord Kurogami tried to drag the match into shadow.”
Julian Ward: “But Raigen refuses to release the hold. Kaen is fading. Slow-Count Sam checks closely.”
Kaen reaches outward, his fingers clawing at empty space.
Raigen tightens the Demon Sleeper.
Julian Ward: “Kaen has nowhere to go.”
Kaen taps.
The bell rings.
The crowd erupts as Raigen releases the hold and rolls to one knee.
Louie Linville: “The winner of the first fall by submission, Raigen!”
Julian Ward: “At the thirteen minute mark, Raigen scores the first fall with the Demon Sleeper.”
Brick Brody: “That was a champion’s fall. He went back to the same hold until Kaen had no answers left.”
Julian Ward: “Raigen now leads one fall to zero, but both men are tired, and the match is far from over.”
Minute 14
Julian Ward: “The second fall begins with Raigen trying to press his advantage. He steps in with a Knee Lift.”
Brick Brody: “He finally got that knee through, but watch the outside.”
Julian Ward: “Lord Kurogami interferes with a Rope Snare, tying Raigen up in the ropes and leaving the champion compromised.”
Brick Brody: “That is exactly why Lord Kurogami is out here. When the match turns against Kaen, the shadows get involved.”
Julian Ward: “Raigen scores the strike, but he is now trapped on defense. The first fall is his, but the second has opened under dangerous circumstances.”
Minute 15
Julian Ward: “Kaen takes advantage of the snare and drives a Headbutt into Raigen.”
Brick Brody: “There’s no honor in that, and there doesn’t need to be. Raigen is stuck. Hit him.”
Julian Ward: “The champion absorbs the punishment, still caught in the aftereffect of Lord Kurogami’s interference.”
Brick Brody: “This is where two-out-of-three falls gets cruel. You can win the first fall and still get carved up before the second one really starts.”
Minute 16
Julian Ward: “Kaen follows with the Tokko Discus Lariat, and Raigen cannot fully defend.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the payoff from the snare. Lord Kurogami opened the door, and Kaen kicked it wider.”
Julian Ward: “The champion is no longer trapped, but the damage has been done. Kaen has used the opening to pull himself back into the match.”
Brick Brody: “Now Raigen has to rebuild under fire.”
Minute 17
Julian Ward: “Raigen steadies himself and answers with a Bodyslam, taking Kaen down with direct power.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Don’t waste time complaining. Pick the man up and put him down.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen fires back with the GTR, the Spinning Headlock Lariat into Backbreaker. Another heavy attack to the body and back of Raigen.”
Brick Brody: “That backbreaker is becoming a problem. Kaen keeps finding the spine.”
Julian Ward: “The second fall remains even, but Kaen is beginning to target the same areas with increasing force.”
Minute 18
Julian Ward: “After another defensive exchange, Raigen throws Kaen out of the ring once more.”
Slow-Count Sam begins the count.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
“Four!”
Julian Ward: “Kaen is down on the outside, but Raigen cannot fully follow through.”
“Five!”
“Six!”
“Seven!”
Julian Ward: “Kaen returns at seven, but not before Raigen buys himself precious recovery time.”
Brick Brody: “That was smart by the champion. Throw him out, make him climb back in, steal a breath.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen still answers with a German Suplex as soon as he re-enters, making sure Raigen pays for that space.”
Minute 19
Julian Ward: “Raigen shifts to raw strength now, planting Kaen with another Bodyslam.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the champion simplifying things. No curse, no snare, no fancy counter. Just slam him.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen answers with a Headbutt, and again both men remain close in the exchange.”
Brick Brody: “This is a grind now. Every move is a little uglier, a little slower, and a lot more honest.”
Julian Ward: “Fatigue is setting in, but neither man has retreated from the center of the fight.”
Minute 20
Julian Ward: “Raigen drives down with a Double Axhandle, but Kaen answers with the GTR again.”
Brick Brody: “That backbreaker-lariat combination keeps doing damage. Kaen knows it works, and he’s not getting sentimental about variety.”
Julian Ward: “Raigen lands offense, but Kaen lands the heavier blow in the exchange. The challenger may be trailing in falls, but the second fall is very much alive.”
Brick Brody: “This is how you make a champion doubt the finish line.”
Minute 21
Julian Ward: “Raigen goes back to the leg with another Leglock, trying to cut Kaen down and slow the pace.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the right thought. If Kaen keeps hitting lariats and suplexes, take the leg out from under him.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen answers with an Ushigoroshi, and both men score evenly in the exchange.”
Brick Brody: “Nobody’s getting away clean. Every success comes with a receipt.”
Julian Ward: “The second fall is becoming a war of endurance, and the first fall’s exhaustion is visible now.”
Minute 22
Julian Ward: “Raigen slams Kaen again with a Bodyslam, but Kaen catches the ankle on the landing and twists into an Ankle Lock.”
Brick Brody: “That is beautiful cruelty. Let him think he got the slam, then take the foot.”
Julian Ward: “Kaen straps in the Ankle Lock, and Raigen is in real danger. That same leg has been under threat since the opening minute.”
Brick Brody: “If Raigen taps, we go one fall apiece, and the title starts sweating.”
Julian Ward: “Raigen refuses. He reaches, turns, and endures long enough to force the release. The champion survives again.”
Minute 23
Julian Ward: “Raigen throws Kaen out of the ring again, trying to halt the challenger’s momentum.”
Slow-Count Sam begins the count.
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
Julian Ward: “Kaen is outside, but Lord Kurogami moves again. Another Rope Snare from ringside catches Raigen in the ropes.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the second time. Lord Kurogami is turning those ropes into a trap.”
“Four!”
“Five!”
Julian Ward: “Kaen returns at five, and Raigen is again forced into defense because of Lord Kurogami’s interference.”
Brick Brody: “The champion keeps winning moments, but the manager keeps stealing the aftermath.”
Minute 24
Julian Ward: “Kaen takes the opening and snaps Raigen over with a German Suplex.”
Brick Brody: “There’s the danger. You tie a champion up, and the challenger gets to throw him wherever he wants.”
Julian Ward: “Raigen attempts to defend, but cannot stop it. He remains under the pressure created by Lord Kurogami.”
Brick Brody: “This is where Kaen should be finishing the fall. Don’t admire the damage. Cash it in.”
Julian Ward: “The champion is still ahead, but the second fall is slipping into chaos.”
Minute 25
Julian Ward: “Lord Kurogami steps onto the apron now, and he reveals the Mask of Wrath, threatening Slow-Count Sam directly.”
Brick Brody: “That is too much. Even for me, that is too obvious.”
Julian Ward: “Slow-Count Sam backs away, but he has seen enough. The intimidation is blatant. Raigen tries to move through the disturbance, but Lord Kurogami’s interference has fully compromised the match.”
Slow-Count Sam calls for the bell.
The bell rings sharply.
The crowd erupts in confusion and anger.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen, Kaen has been disqualified due to the interference of Lord Kurogami. Therefore, the winner of the second fall, and still Eternal Flame Champion, Raigen!”
The crowd roars as Raigen wins the match two falls to zero, but the champion does not celebrate.
Kaen looks furious.
Lord Kurogami remains cold at ringside, his eyes on Raigen rather than the official.
Julian Ward: “The second fall ends by disqualification. Lord Kurogami’s interference has cost Kaen the match, and Raigen retains the Eternal Flame Championship.”
Brick Brody: “That’s the risk when you bring darkness to ringside. Sometimes it wins you the fight. Sometimes it burns the whole plan down.”
Raigen is handed the Eternal Flame Championship, but before he can raise it, a masked figure slides into the ring behind him.
The crowd shouts in warning.
The masked assailant attacks Raigen from behind, driving forearms into the champion’s back and forcing him toward the ropes.
Julian Ward: “Wait a moment. Someone has entered the ring. Raigen is being attacked.”
Brick Brody: “That is not Kaen. That’s somebody else.”
Kaen does not leave.
He steps toward Raigen as the masked assailant continues the attack.
Raigen turns sharply, fighting with sudden ferocity. He drives an elbow into the masked attacker, blocks another strike, and rips the mask away.
The camera catches the face.
Enrai.
The crowd erupts.
Julian Ward: “It is Enrai. The masked assailant is Enrai, Kaen’s partner.”
Brick Brody: “Now the picture clears up. This was not just a title challenge. This was a trap.”
Raigen throws a strike at Enrai, then turns into Kaen, meeting him with another blow. For a brief moment, the champion fights both men at once, moving with desperate verve, refusing to fall beneath the ambush.
But the numbers catch him.
Kaen hits Raigen from the side.
Enrai attacks the back of the neck.
Lord Kurogami watches from ringside, expression unmoved as the double-team begins to overwhelm the champion.
Julian Ward: “Raigen is trying to fight them both, but Kaen and Enrai are overwhelming him now. The champion survived the match, but the assault was waiting after the bell.”
Brick Brody: “That’s strategy. You don’t just take a title in the match. Sometimes you soften the man for the next war.”
The crowd suddenly rises again.
From the back, Taro Okami sprints onto the stage.
He charges down the ramp, eyes fixed on the ring.
Julian Ward: “Here comes Taro Okami!”
Brick Brody: “Now this just got interesting.”
Taro Okami slides into the ring and immediately throws himself at Enrai, driving him back with hard strikes. Kaen turns toward him, but Raigen surges up and catches Kaen with a shot to the jaw.
The double-team breaks.
Taro Okami knocks Enrai toward the ropes.
Raigen steps forward, title fallen near the corner, fire in his eyes.
Kaen and Enrai retreat to the floor, furious but forced back. Lord Kurogami slowly gathers them with a raised hand, his expression unreadable.
Inside the ring, Taro Okami stands beside Raigen.
For a moment, neither man speaks.
Raigen bends down, retrieves the Eternal Flame Championship, and pulls himself upright.
The crowd chants for the champion.
Julian Ward: “Raigen retains the Eternal Flame Championship, but the night ends with a revelation. Enrai was waiting beneath the mask, Kaen was not alone, and Taro Okami has stepped into the fire at the champion’s side.”
Brick Brody: “That was not a rescue out of kindness. Taro Okami just made a statement. He looked at Kaen, Enrai, and Lord Kurogami, and he chose his battlefield.”
Julian Ward: “The title remains with Raigen, but the war around the Eternal Flame Championship has expanded. The champion survived the challenge. Now he must survive the alliance gathering against him.”
RESULT: RAIGEN DEFEATS KAEN TWO FALLS TO ZERO TO RETAIN THE ETERNAL FLAME CHAMPIONSHIP. RAIGEN WINS THE FIRST FALL BY SUBMISSION AT THE 13 MINUTE MARK WITH THE DEMON SLEEPER. RAIGEN WINS THE SECOND FALL BY DISQUALIFICATION AT THE 25 MINUTE MARK AFTER INTERFERENCE FROM LORD KUROGAMI.
The camera holds on Raigen and Taro Okami standing in the ring.
Across the aisle, Kaen, Enrai, and Lord Kurogami regroup in shadow.
The Eternal Flame Championship glows beneath the arena lights.
The fire is not finished.
It has spread.
The camera returns to ringside.
The ring has finally been cleared, but the aftermath remains visible in every corner of Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum. The crowd is still standing in pockets, still reacting, still trying to untangle the final image of Raigen and Taro Okami standing together while Kaen, Enrai, and Lord Kurogami withdrew into shadow.
The Eternal Flame Championship graphic fades from the stage screen.
The arena lights settle into deep blue and gold, but the night no longer feels ceremonial.
It feels damaged.
At the commentary desk, Julian Ward sits composed, his voice calm but weighted by everything the episode has left behind.
Julian Ward: “Tonight, Dark Fable opened with endurance and ended with escalation. Lark of Sherwood survived Serpenta Veyne in a long and punishing opening match, proving that courage can endure venom when it refuses to break.”
Brick Brody: “She got dragged through a fight and kept getting up. I like that. Serpenta Veyne had chances to finish her, but chances do not matter if you cannot nail the coffin shut.”
Julian Ward: “Frankenstein’s Monster defeated Sir Lancelot, and once again the proudest blades of Camelot were reminded that honor does not always soften impact.”
Brick Brody: “That was not a reminder. That was a mauling. Sir Lancelot fought like a knight. Frankenstein’s Monster fought like a building falling over. Guess which one worked.”
The camera cuts briefly to a replay of Frankenstein’s Monster driving Sir Lancelot down with The Flat Liner, then to Merlin kneeling beside the fallen knight.
Julian Ward: “Sandman spoke earlier tonight of time, erosion, and things fading. Then he defeated Allan A Dale with the Sleeper, turning his own words into a harsh reality.”
Brick Brody: “That match was short because Sandman made it short. Allan A Dale had spirit, but spirit needs air. Sandman took the air.”
Julian Ward: “Rapunzel overcame Yurei Rinn and the presence of Lord Kurogami, while the Blonde Bombshells, Dorothy and Alice, found themselves confronted by Lady Isolde Blackthorne and Prioress Malveil. The North Star Tag Team Champions say they will take on all challengers. That challenge may now be coming straight at them.”
Brick Brody: “Good. Champions should be bothered. Gold attracts trouble. Dorothy and Alice want to stand on top of the world, fine. But Lady Isolde Blackthorne and Prioress Malveil are not coming to admire the view.”
The camera cuts to a replay of Rapunzel pinning Yurei Rinn, followed by the backstage confrontation between the champions and their challengers.
The tone darkens.
The replay changes to Mordred trapping Robin Hood in the Sharpshooter.
Julian Ward: “And then came Robin Hood and Mordred. Earlier tonight, Robin Hood spoke with concern for King Arthur, cautioning that a crown must never forget the common hands beneath it. Later, he fell to Mordred by submission.”
Brick Brody: “And then King Arthur walked out and smiled.”
The camera cuts to the image again.
King Arthur at the top of the ramp.
The Mythic Crown Championship on his shoulder.
Robin Hood down in the ring.
Mordred standing victorious.
And the king smiling.
Julian Ward: “That smile may become one of the most important images of this night. King Arthur looked upon a fallen ally and an old enemy, and he did not rush to aid. He did not show concern. He smiled.”
Brick Brody: “Maybe he saw two threats beating each other down. Maybe he saw the board clearing itself. Maybe Robin Hood should have thought twice before questioning how a king wears his crown.”
Julian Ward: “Perhaps. But if Robin Hood feared that King Arthur was beginning to lose perspective, tonight may have done little to ease that concern.”
The camera returns to the desk.
Julian Ward: “And in our main event, Raigen retained the Eternal Flame Championship over Kaen in two straight falls. First by submission with the Demon Sleeper, then by disqualification after Lord Kurogami’s interference became impossible to ignore.”
Brick Brody: “A win is a win, but let us not pretend Raigen walked out clean. Kaen came to hurt him. Lord Kurogami came to twist the match. And then Enrai showed up under a mask to finish the trap.”
Julian Ward: “Raigen fought with extraordinary force even after the bell, but it was Taro Okami who came to the champion’s aid. Tonight, Taro Okami did more than make a save. He chose a side.”
Brick Brody: “He chose a war. That is different.”
The stage screen shifts to next week’s card.
The crowd reacts as each match appears in sequence.
Julian Ward: “And that war continues next week. Raigen and Taro Okami will join forces against Kaminari Hono, the team of Kaen and Enrai.”
Brick Brody: “That is not a tag match. That is a fight with receipts. Raigen owes them pain. Taro Okami just signed his name to the bill.”
Julian Ward: “The wounds of Camelot will also deepen. Sir Agravaine and the Dread Knights will face Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawain, and Sir Galahad.”
Brick Brody: “After what happened to Sir Lancelot tonight, those knights better come angry. The Dread Knights do not respect pride. They respect weakness when they can smell it.”
Julian Ward: “Lady Guinevere will step into singles competition against Athena, a match that brings grace, discipline, and pride into direct conflict.”
Brick Brody: “And do not overlook that one. Lady Guinevere is not just standing beside the king. She is stepping into the ring while Camelot is under scrutiny. That matters.”
Julian Ward: “The Sheriff of Nottingham will face Hansel, bringing royal enforcement against the current Eternal Flame landscape’s former champion and one of this division’s most dangerous survivors.”
Brick Brody: “The Sheriff of Nottingham likes control. Hansel likes proving control can bleed. That will be ugly.”
Julian Ward: “Monster Bash’s Enforcers, Kong and Ogre, will face Robin Hood and Allan A Dale.”
Brick Brody: “That is a terrible week for the Merry Band. Robin Hood tapped tonight. Allan A Dale got put to sleep. Now they get Kong and Ogre. Whoever made that match has a mean streak.”
Julian Ward: “And in a major singles encounter, Takuma Ryujin will face Mordred.”
The crowd reaction swells.
Brick Brody: “Now that is dangerous. Takuma Ryujin is not coming to play noble games, and Mordred just made Robin Hood tap. Two violent men, one ring, no room for poetry.”
Julian Ward: “Next week, the flame spreads, Camelot fractures further, and the shadow of the Broken Crown meets the fury of the dragon’s path.”
The camera begins a slow pullback from ringside.
In the distance, the stage screen still shows next week’s main images.
Raigen and Taro Okami.
Kaen and Enrai.
Mordred.
King Arthur’s crest.
The crowd noise lowers into a steady, uneasy roar.
Julian Ward: “For Brick Brody, I am Julian Ward. Tonight, champions survived, challengers gathered, allies questioned kings, and old enemies found new reasons to smile.”
Brick Brody: “That is Dark Fable, Julian Ward. Nobody leaves untouched. Some people just hide the damage better.”
Julian Ward: “Good night from Scrooge’s Camelot Coliseum.”
The camera cuts from the desk to the top of the ramp.
It is empty now.
No King Arthur.
No Mordred.
No Raigen.
Only blue and gold light falling across the stone.
Then, for a single moment, the stage screen flickers.
The Camelot crest appears.
A thin crack of black shadow cuts through the center.
The screen goes dark.
The broadcast has ended.
Location: London, England — The townhouse of Sir Alistair Hawthorne
London wears the night like an old coat.
Rain taps softly against the tall windows of Sir Alistair Hawthorne’s townhouse, turning the streetlamps outside into blurred halos of gold. The neighborhood is quiet in that particular way only old money can afford — tucked behind iron gates, polished brass knockers, and centuries of learned discretion.
Inside, the main sitting room glows with firelight.
It is not ostentatious. Nothing in the room needs to announce its value. Dark wood paneling. Deep green leather chairs. A worn Persian rug. Shelves of wrestling programs, antique books, and framed photographs from British halls where crowds once pressed shoulder-to-shoulder to watch men test each other without spectacle or shortcuts.
A silver tray rests on a low table.
Three crystal glasses.
One cut-glass decanter of aged whisky.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne stands by the fireplace, broad-shouldered and composed, his carved oak cane resting against the arm of his chair. His face is calm, but the lines around his eyes seem deeper tonight.
Across from him, Aurelius Valor sits with quiet dignity, the firelight reflecting faintly off the pale gold accents of his tailored suit. He does not look like a man who enters rooms by accident. Even in a private sitting room, even among friends, he carries a presence that feels measured, restrained, and deliberate.
Near the window stands Reggie Blackmoor, phone in hand, dark suit immaculate in the careless way of men who know exactly how careless they appear. He watches the rain, but he is listening to everything.
Hawthorne pours the drinks.
HAWTHORNE:
I appreciate you coming all this way, Aurelius.
He hands him a glass.
Aurelius accepts it with a small nod.
AURELIUS VALOR:
For you, Alistair, it is no trouble.
Hawthorne pours a third glass and offers it toward Reggie.
Reggie turns from the window, accepts it, and raises it slightly.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Very kind, Sir. Nothing says “quiet evening among friends” quite like discussing corporate instability, mysterious deaths, and possible international power brokers.
Hawthorne gives him a look.
Reggie smiles faintly and takes a sip.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
I’ll behave. Mostly.
Aurelius allows the smallest smile.
Hawthorne settles into his chair, the fire casting firm shadows across his weathered face.
For a moment, the three men sit in silence.
Not uncomfortable silence.
Respectful silence.
The kind that comes before serious matters.
Finally, Hawthorne speaks.
HAWTHORNE:
Ardan Vantrell is dead.
The words fall heavily.
Aurelius lowers his glass slightly.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Yes.
HAWTHORNE:
And yet the board has not formally convened.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Not yet.
Hawthorne studies him.
HAWTHORNE:
That does not sit well with me.
Reggie glances toward Aurelius, then back toward the window.
Aurelius takes his time before answering.
AURELIUS VALOR:
I understand.
HAWTHORNE:
Do you? Because from where I sit, one of the principal owners of NPCW has died. Not retired. Not stepped aside. Died. That alone should bring us together, if only to establish clarity.
Aurelius’s expression remains calm, but there is weight behind his eyes.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Clarity is precisely why we should wait.
Hawthorne’s brow tightens.
HAWTHORNE:
Explain that.
Aurelius leans forward slightly, glass resting between his hands.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Ardan’s shares are not merely personal holdings. They are tied to the Circle of the False Light’s interests. Until Lucien’s position within the Circle is confirmed, anything the board does risks creating more uncertainty than it resolves.
HAWTHORNE:
A board meeting is not a declaration of war.
AURELIUS VALOR:
No. But timing can make it look like one.
Hawthorne says nothing.
Aurelius continues, his tone steady.
AURELIUS VALOR:
If we convene too quickly, before Lucien’s succession is settled, those inside the Circle who oppose him may interpret it as NPCW preparing to recognize a power vacuum. That could encourage them. Or worse, invite them.
Reggie turns from the window.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
And there are few things more tedious than ambitious men believing they’ve been invited.
Hawthorne glances at Reggie, then back to Aurelius.
HAWTHORNE:
So your recommendation is inaction.
AURELIUS VALOR:
No.
Aurelius’s voice remains gentle, but the correction carries force.
AURELIUS VALOR:
My recommendation is patience. There is a difference.
Hawthorne leans back, thumb brushing the rim of his glass.
HAWTHORNE:
There’s also a difference between patience and leaving the pitch unattended.
Aurelius nods once.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Agreed.
A quiet beat passes between them.
They are old friends, but neither man is careless enough to confuse friendship with agreement.
Hawthorne takes a measured sip.
HAWTHORNE:
Do we know anything certain about Ardan’s death?
Aurelius’s gaze dips slightly.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Only that it happened suddenly. The details are being tightly held.
HAWTHORNE:
By the Circle?
AURELIUS VALOR:
By those close enough to the matter to know what should not yet be said.
Reggie’s half-smirk fades.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
That’s a very elegant way of saying “no one’s telling us a blessed thing.”
Aurelius looks toward him.
AURELIUS VALOR:
For now.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Naturally. Secrets always become more agreeable once they’ve finished causing damage.
Hawthorne stares into the fire.
HAWTHORNE:
I disliked Ardan’s methods. I won’t pretend otherwise. But there was a mind there. A dangerous mind, yes, but not a careless one.
Aurelius nods.
AURELIUS VALOR:
No. Ardan was never careless.
HAWTHORNE:
Then his death being this sudden concerns me.
The fire pops softly.
Outside, rain streaks the glass.
Aurelius does not answer immediately.
When he does, his voice is lower.
AURELIUS VALOR:
It concerns me as well.
Reggie steps closer to the chairs, the phone now tucked into his jacket.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
The question is whether it concerns us as a tragedy, a succession issue, or the opening move of something with a knife behind its back.
Hawthorne looks at him.
HAWTHORNE:
I suspect all three.
Aurelius’s eyes sharpen faintly.
AURELIUS VALOR:
You have something else.
Hawthorne looks across the fire at him.
HAWTHORNE:
I do.
He sets his glass down.
HAWTHORNE:
The Envoy has been seen poking around NPCW.
For the first time, Aurelius’s composure visibly shifts.
It is not much.
A stilling of the hand.
A slight narrowing of the eyes.
But Hawthorne sees it.
So does Reggie.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Confirmed?
HAWTHORNE:
Confirmed enough for me to dislike it.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Which, in fairness, is a fairly high standard. Sir Alistair dislikes many things on principle before the paperwork arrives.
Hawthorne ignores him.
Aurelius slowly places his glass on the table.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Where?
HAWTHORNE:
In proximity to Scrooge.
Aurelius exhales softly.
Not surprise.
Concern.
AURELIUS VALOR:
That is not good.
HAWTHORNE:
No.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
It’s the kind of “not good” that tends to arrive wearing excellent shoes and leaving no fingerprints.
Hawthorne turns to him.
HAWTHORNE:
What do you know of him?
Reggie’s expression becomes sharper.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
The Envoy? Enough to avoid offering him anything stronger than tea unless I know who paid for the leaves.
Aurelius’s mouth tightens faintly.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Royal blood, but not throne-adjacent enough to be ornamental. Moves between courts, banks, families, syndicates, old orders, and the kind of people who consider governments a temporary inconvenience. Doesn’t sell secrets. Sells clean passage between people who shouldn’t be in the same room.
Hawthorne’s eyes remain steady.
HAWTHORNE:
Who does he work for?
Reggie gives a small shrug.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
That’s the trick, Sir. One never knows. If one does know, it’s usually because he wants one to know. Which means it’s probably not the whole answer.
Aurelius looks toward the fire.
AURELIUS VALOR:
The Envoy does not wander into matters of casual investment.
HAWTHORNE:
That was my thought.
AURELIUS VALOR:
If he has approached Scrooge, then someone wants access to the ownership structure.
Hawthorne nods.
HAWTHORNE:
And with Ardan dead, that brings us back to Lucien.
The room settles around the name.
Lucien Vantrell.
Heir apparent.
Executive Vice President.
Son of the Grand Manipulator.
A man standing with one foot in NPCW and one foot in the Circle’s shadowed halls.
HAWTHORNE:
Will Lucien succeed him?
Aurelius folds his hands.
AURELIUS VALOR:
He should.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
That was not quite the question.
Aurelius glances at Reggie. There is no irritation in it. Only acknowledgment.
AURELIUS VALOR:
No. It was not.
He turns back to Hawthorne.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Lucien has support. He has legitimacy. He has proximity to Ardan’s affairs, including NPCW. But succession inside the Circle is not merely inheritance. It is acceptance.
Hawthorne’s jaw tightens.
HAWTHORNE:
Meaning someone may challenge him.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Meaning someone may believe this is the last moment in which they can.
Reggie walks to the drinks table and refills his glass with a modest pour.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Power vacuums do tend to attract people who’ve spent years mistaking patience for entitlement.
HAWTHORNE:
If Lucien fails, what happens to the Circle’s stake?
Aurelius’s expression grows more serious.
AURELIUS VALOR:
That depends on who succeeds him.
Hawthorne waits.
Aurelius continues.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Ardan saw NPCW as a platform. A way to reach a broad audience. Influence through spectacle. Emotion shaped in public. Symbols carried into homes under the cover of entertainment.
HAWTHORNE:
A chilling summary of professional wrestling.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Perhaps. But not an inaccurate one.
Hawthorne says nothing.
Aurelius continues.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Many in the Circle never agreed with him. They considered NPCW a vanity project. Expensive, visible, and beneath their traditional methods.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Nothing offends old secret societies quite like something being both profitable and on television.
Aurelius almost smiles.
AURELIUS VALOR:
If one of those voices takes power, yes, the thirty percent may be in play.
Hawthorne leans forward.
HAWTHORNE:
And if Lucien succeeds?
AURELIUS VALOR:
Then I suspect it stays where it is.
Hawthorne studies him.
HAWTHORNE:
You’re certain?
AURELIUS VALOR:
Not certain. But Lucien has changed.
Reggie’s brow lifts.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
That tends to happen when one spends enough time in an office surrounded by wrestlers, egos, contracts, and quarterly reports.
Aurelius looks toward him.
AURELIUS VALOR:
He once thought his father was mistaken to invest in NPCW. I believe his time as Executive Vice President has altered that view.
Hawthorne nods slowly.
HAWTHORNE:
He sees the value now.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Yes.
HAWTHORNE:
Then whoever sent The Envoy may not want Lucien in place.
Aurelius does not answer.
That silence answers enough.
Reggie’s tone loses some of its humor.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
If an unknown buyer wants the Circle’s thirty percent, and Lucien is unlikely to sell, then the buyer needs someone else holding the keys.
Hawthorne’s eyes harden.
HAWTHORNE:
A challenger.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Possibly.
HAWTHORNE:
Backed from the outside.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Possibly.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
And introduced through The Envoy, because no one wants their fingerprints on the knife until after it’s already in the room.
Aurelius looks at him for a long moment.
AURELIUS VALOR:
That is a crude way to put it.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
I do try to balance the room.
Hawthorne rises slowly and walks to the fireplace. He rests one hand against the mantle, staring into the flames.
On the wall above him hangs an old framed poster from a British wrestling hall. The corners are worn. The ink faded. Two names printed across the bottom, one of them Hawthorne’s, from a time before corporate boards and ancient orders turned the business into a battlefield.
HAWTHORNE:
I came onto this board because I was told NPCW would need men who could not be bent.
Aurelius looks at him.
HAWTHORNE:
At the time, I thought that meant resisting arrogance. Greed. Ego. The usual rot.
He turns back.
HAWTHORNE:
Now I’m wondering if we’ve walked into something older.
The room is quiet again.
Aurelius’s voice softens.
AURELIUS VALOR:
We have.
Hawthorne’s eyes narrow slightly.
HAWTHORNE:
How old?
Aurelius does not answer immediately.
Reggie notices.
So does Hawthorne.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Old enough that haste would be unwise.
Hawthorne studies him for several seconds.
HAWTHORNE:
That is not an answer.
AURELIUS VALOR:
No.
HAWTHORNE:
But it is a warning.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Yes.
Reggie takes another sip.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Well, that’s comforting. Nothing brightens an evening quite like an intentionally incomplete warning.
Aurelius turns toward him.
AURELIUS VALOR:
You are right to be cautious, Mr. Blackmoor.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
I usually am. It’s one of my least charming qualities.
Hawthorne returns to his chair.
HAWTHORNE:
We do not know how Ardan died.
AURELIUS VALOR:
No.
HAWTHORNE:
We do not know whether Lucien will succeed him.
AURELIUS VALOR:
No.
HAWTHORNE:
We do not know who The Envoy represents.
AURELIUS VALOR:
No.
HAWTHORNE:
But we know enough to understand the shape of the danger.
Aurelius nods.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Yes.
Hawthorne looks toward Reggie.
HAWTHORNE:
Then we begin there.
Reggie sets his glass down.
The half-smirk returns, but there is no lightness behind it now.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
I assume this is the part where you ask me to do something both difficult and potentially unwise.
HAWTHORNE:
I need to know who The Envoy’s client is.
Reggie gives a short, dry laugh.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Of course you do.
HAWTHORNE:
Can you find out?
Reggie does not answer quickly.
That alone says much.
He walks slowly toward the window, looking out at the rain-slicked street below. A black cab passes under the streetlamp, its tires hissing across the road.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Finding The Envoy’s client is not like following a bank transfer or bribing a clerk at Companies House. Men like him build their work out of absence. No names where names should be. No signatures where signatures should be. Meetings everyone attended and no one remembers.
He turns back.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
But absence has shape, if you stare at it long enough.
Hawthorne nods.
HAWTHORNE:
Then stare.
Reggie smiles faintly.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Yes, Sir.
Aurelius leans forward.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Carefully, Mr. Blackmoor.
Reggie looks at him.
AURELIUS VALOR:
If The Envoy notices you following his trail, he may not stop you.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
That sounds strangely generous.
AURELIUS VALOR:
It is not.
Aurelius’s voice lowers.
AURELIUS VALOR:
He may simply allow you to find the trail he prefers.
Reggie’s expression shifts, just slightly.
For once, he does not answer with a joke.
Hawthorne notices.
HAWTHORNE:
Reggie.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
I heard him.
He looks toward Aurelius.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
The danger isn’t being blocked. It’s being guided.
Aurelius nods.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Precisely.
Hawthorne rises again, this time with finality.
HAWTHORNE:
Then we proceed with care. Quietly. No accusations. No public movement. No board agitation until we know more.
Aurelius gives a small approving nod.
AURELIUS VALOR:
That would be wise.
Hawthorne turns to him.
HAWTHORNE:
But if Lucien is challenged, and that challenge is being financed to move the Circle’s stake into unknown hands, I will not stand politely aside and call it internal business.
Aurelius meets his gaze.
AURELIUS VALOR:
I would not expect you to.
The fire crackles between them.
Reggie reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
I’ll start with Scrooge’s known intermediaries, then move outward. Legal firms. Private banks. Recent hospitality records. Flight manifests. Anyone who suddenly discovered an interest in Circle governance after having no interest in it whatsoever last week.
Hawthorne nods.
HAWTHORNE:
And Reggie?
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Sir?
HAWTHORNE:
Do not underestimate The Envoy.
Reggie’s smirk is small, but sharp.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Wouldn’t dream of it. I make a point never to underestimate men who can ruin your life with a dinner reservation.
Aurelius rises, buttoning his jacket.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Keep me informed, Alistair. Discreetly.
Hawthorne extends his hand.
Aurelius takes it.
Their handshake is firm.
Old friends.
Different instincts.
A shared concern.
HAWTHORNE:
You truly believe we should wait on the board meeting?
AURELIUS VALOR:
Until Lucien’s succession is confirmed, yes.
HAWTHORNE:
And if it is not?
Aurelius’s expression darkens.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Then the board meeting may become the least of our concerns.
Hawthorne absorbs that.
Aurelius releases his hand and moves toward the doorway.
Reggie steps ahead to open it.
Before leaving, Aurelius pauses and looks back into the room.
AURELIUS VALOR:
Ardan Vantrell understood something many did not. NPCW reaches people who would never enter the rooms where power is usually decided. That made it valuable.
His voice lowers.
AURELIUS VALOR:
It also made it vulnerable.
He exits.
The front door closes moments later.
The room is quieter without him.
Hawthorne stands near the fire, listening to the rain.
Reggie returns from the hall.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Well. That was bracing.
Hawthorne does not turn.
HAWTHORNE:
Begin tonight.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Already have.
Hawthorne looks over his shoulder.
Reggie lifts his phone.
On the screen are several open tabs, messages already drafted, contacts already queued.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Private aviation. London firms. Geneva accounts. Two retired journalists who owe me favors. One solicitor who will pretend not to remember me until I mention what happened in Prague.
Hawthorne almost smiles.
Almost.
HAWTHORNE:
Good.
Reggie’s expression sobers.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Sir… if The Envoy is involved, this may not be about buying into NPCW.
Hawthorne turns fully.
HAWTHORNE:
What do you mean?
Reggie slips the phone back into his jacket.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
A man like that does not simply help someone purchase shares. He helps them purchase the circumstances that make the sale inevitable.
Hawthorne’s face hardens.
The firelight catches the scar above his eyebrow.
HAWTHORNE:
Then we find the buyer before the circumstances are arranged.
Reggie nods.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Yes, Sir.
He heads toward the door.
Hawthorne remains in the sitting room, alone now but for the rain and the fire.
His eyes move to the old wrestling poster above the mantle.
A place where honor once had clear rules.
A business where men fought in front of everyone, not behind closed doors.
He lifts his glass but does not drink.
HAWTHORNE:
There’s a difference between progress and erosion.
A beat.
HAWTHORNE:
Let’s see which one this is.
Cut to outside.
Aurelius Valor steps into the waiting car beneath a black umbrella held by a silent driver. The door closes. The vehicle pulls away from the curb, disappearing into the wet London night.
From an upper window, Reggie watches.
His phone buzzes.
A message appears from an unknown number.
STOP LOOKING.
Reggie stares at it.
Then another message arrives.
PLEASE.
For once, his expression reveals no amusement.
He slowly looks out toward the street, where the taillights of Aurelius’s car vanish around the corner.
Reggie deletes neither message.
He simply whispers to himself.
REGGIE BLACKMOOR:
Now that’s interesting.
Fade to black.
END INTERLUDE
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