The hot iron sizzles against skin, smoke curling up towards the ceiling as the stench of seared flesh fills the room with its pungent aroma. Muffled screams echo off the walls subsiding only when the red-hot poker is pulled away from his arm. The slender blond man in the chair slumps as far as his bindings allow him to, whimpering softly through the gag. His chest heaves, struggling to take in oxygen as he watches his tall, muscular torturer stick the poker into the coals once more. He whines, an almost inhuman sound as he squirms futilely against his bonds. Ryan Maxem glances over at his captive and grins, as he turns back towards him, spinning the glowing poker in his hands.

“You know, this all could have been avoided if you had just paid your debt Jerry.” Maxem drawls the words as he comes closer. He reaches out and pulls the gag down for a moment. The blond man starts crying, incoherent babble about not having the money right then. Tsking, Maxem pulls the gag back into place. He shakes his head mockingly. “Well now that’s too damn bad.” He presses the iron onto Jerrys chest, drawing out another agonized howl. Sweat breaks out all over Jerrys body as he struggles to get away from the agonizing pain. Maxem tosses the poker aside, stepping over to a table where multiple instruments are neatly laid out waiting to be chosen.

“Ciro expects to be paid by next week, Jerry. I think hes being too lenient, but hey not my problem. Now, what should we play with next?” Ryan picks up a knife and lovingly runs a finger along the blade. He taps it on his mouth as he looks at everything else spread before him. “Maybe we should remove your fingernails one by one. What do you think? Or we could just go straight to my favorite part.” Maxem puts the knife down and selecting a mallet. He raises his eyebrows suggestively as Jerry frantically tries to escape the rope that shows no signs of give. Ryans laughter is cut off by a vibration in his pocket. He pulls out a flip phone.

He holds up a finger to Jerry. “Sorry, I have to take this.” He turns his back on the trussed-up man and answers with his name. He is quiet for a few moments. “Really? Him?! Okay. Of course I can find that loser, I can find anyone.” He snaps the phone shut and crams it back down into his pocket. He approaches Jerry once more, wearing a rueful smile. “This is your lucky day boy. I have some business to attend to that pays better.” He leans forward making a kissy face, and smacks Jerry on the cheek. “Pleasure meeting you!” He wraps ups his tools, then strolls out of the room, feeling like he did Jerry a service by leaving the door open. The kid would figure something out, and if he didn’t... no skin off Maxems back.

He pressed a button to unlock the doors of his car, and slid onto the leather seats. He reaches over onto the passenger side floor lifting up a duffel bag. He unzips it and digs around a minute, pulling out a gps tracking device. Good, he did have one handy. He might need it for his mark, although he wasn’t sure this one had the brain capacity to even sense he was being tailed. Ryan drops it back in, and places the neatly rolled packet of torture tools on top of everything else. He shoves the bag back down onto the floorboards and starts the Hummer up. He sighs, knowing he will have to ditch it to be less conspicuous once he arrives at his destination. He had a long drive ahead of him, might as well enjoy it. Flipping the visor down, he removes some sunglasses, then gets on his way.

Settled on the highway, he starts thinking about what a waste of time this mission was. The mark was just a nobody, why should Eric Rayne even be bothered by such a pathetic specimen? There were bigger fish to fry in the HWA. Like Danny Starr. Maxem couldn’t understand the big hype for the guy. He was overplayed, washed up, all bark and no bite. Yet everyone proclaimed him to be such an icon. He scoffed, Maxem could have out wrestled Starr with his hands tied behind his back. His skill in the ring didn’t even come close, it was him who should be in the Hall of Fame rather than Danny fucking Starr. It was too bad Rayne hadn't sent him after him instead, now that would have been one job Maxem would have enjoyed immensely.

Who else was there? Dan Sawyer for one. That sad, sad jobber who had clung to the shirt tails of the Militia had served little purpose other than being a lackey, doing the jobs nobody else wanted to be bothered with. In Maxems opinion, Sawyer barely ranked above the guy he wasn’t going to keep eyes on right now. Not worth an ounce of thought. Fudge though. Maxems jaw clenches at the thought of the Suicidal Chyld. Another so called legend. He grimaces. The fickle ass HWA fans had favorited that waste of oxygen, who had also staked a spot in the HOF. And for what? Biggest ass kisser to the fans? To the other worthless lumps of shit that made up the HWA roster? Ryan seethed. None of them had a tenth of the talent he had, yet he had been overlooked time after time.

Anger made his foot heavier, and before he knew it, he was crossing state lines. He rolled his window down and took a breath of air. Rotten eggs and garbage. Yup, he was in New Jersey all right. He pulls off into a rest area, driving slowly along the line of cars until he sees a likely specimen. He parks the Hummer and watches intently as a family piles out of a nondescript sedan. He smirks as he watches the frazzled parents try to herd their wild brood into the restrooms. Plenty of time. He grabs the duffels bag and casually makes his way over to the empty car. He pops the door open, bracing, but no alarm sounds. He merely laughs, and within a few seconds has it hot wired and is back on the road, turning the nose of the Honda towards where his target is suspected to be.

With Ryan Maxm following Tommy Romeo, their encryptions will be useless to conceal their movements. It would be just a matter of time before Danny would be able to track down Kevin Conner and his crew of rogue HWA members but until then, he would use his god-level technology to force them into the light. But first, an invitation.

It had been years since he's needed the technology. Danny, only used it for small meetings and/or testing, but now the Surrogate Avatar technology would play a primary role in fighting the HWA Resistance. He places the fragile, state of the art Mo-Cap net over his head and adjusts the black stickers to the points on his face that would allow him to become Eric Rayne. It was a process, but he had done it many times in practice.

He loads up the program and wipes the dust off of the camera lens. He steps behind the curtain and using his remote device presses "COLLABORATE" with his thumb. He begins speaking into the S.A. camera that would re-interpret his facial expressions, in real time, as Eric Rayne. He presses SYNC to make his voice sound like Eric's and begins the first message for the HWA Resistance.

Nothing like looking at the Philadelphia skyline as clouds roll in, Sunlight breaking through the clouds creating columns of purity in a seemingly dark world. Lately there has been a lot of darkness in the world of Evan Blane, his fiancé decides to leave after his career-ending injury in the ring, his sponsors dropped him when they found out he wasn’t going to be allowed to return. That was 3 years ago, and Blane has done what he always does, roll with the punches, no pun intended. It was Friday, mid-day so Blane was just finishing up his work out at the gym focusing on rehabbing his knee, to hopefully stick it to the doctors saying that his days of MMA were over. Leg presses, low weight but high reps to strengthen the overall knee. This has been his routine for the last year and a half after his short bout of depression.

A lot of things in Blane’s life has gone wrong, his wrestling career was good but short lived. His time in the Foundation of Sensation made his finances solid enough he did not need wrestling any longer and looked to make a name for himself in MMA. Blane had a promising career going there but stuck at the mid card level. These things drove him harder to train and get stronger so he could make a return and so he could one day get his title shot he deserved. Until during a match, Blane’s opponent delivered a good leg kick to jar something loose, after that he landed a solid right hand and sent Evan to the mat. This gave the other combatant a chance to latch a knee bar on, and He wrenched on that for a good bit of time and everyone knows how stubborn Blane is. Well one thing led to another and “POP”, both ACL and MCL ripped, and the two heads of the bones shattered. Doctors spend over 12 hours trying to reconstruct his knee and his bones in his knee.

During his time of rehab he worked on his joints in his knees. Everyday during his rehab he pushed it beyond the limits and was able to regain a lot of his movement and strength in his right knee. As he worked hard, his fiancé Lisa decided to take her leave of Evan because of “different views on personal health”. See Blane developed a drinking a problem to help deal with the pain of his knee. He would push his knee to the limits, and he would come home from rehab and kill a liter of Jack Daniels in a night. This cause some domestic issues leading to some court battles. After all the issues and a hefty amount of money for court fees and other legal stuff, Lisa left a hole in Blane’s heart this was the beginning of Blane’s loner mindset.

Blane mostly worked out alone so no one could bother him or expect things other than what he expects of himself which is sometimes too much. When he didn’t have a good session at the gym, he would punch walls or just completely shut down. That’s when the drinking got worse, he would get home and polish off bottles and bottles of whiskey and go on multiple day benders. After this happened multiple times, Blane’s agent got involved and got him clean. Now Blane is a year and a half clean and training harder than ever.

Blane finished his work out about 4:30pm in downtown Philadelphia and he knew on his bicycle he could get home and dressed by 5pm. This allowed him to get food and head to the MMA gym where he works at by 5:30pm on bike. Blane arrived home, where he checked his emails and phone for any messages from his agent. He was hoping for news of a fight contract or contacts from some promoter. This action was a bust, nothing to be seen or heard. Blane changes and heads down to the gym, Royal StriKing located in South Philadelphia, right by the sport complex.

Blane got to the Royal StriKing at about 5:25pm that day and got warmed up. Still feeling ready to go from his earlier work out, Blane started out working on his kicks, the songs of The Ghost Inside blaring through his earbuds, he begins with high head kicks and middle body kicks to a heavy bag. He starts with his left and starts drilling the bag. THUD, THUD, THUD….. you could hear his leg slamming into the bag hard. Every kick harder and harder in the same spot, his accuracy of his kick was scary. That’s when Blane heard the counter clerk yelling at a person about a dog. Blane looks over at the door and recognizes the person and the dog. Blane sees Tommy Romeo standing at the counter and the feeling of nostalgia washes him. “This dog goes everywhere that man goes, and they are both more than welcome here.” Blane blurts out to Karl behind the counter.

The wind blowing across his face as he drives down the highway. This would be the first time Tommy had been to Philly in years and why he chose to cross the Betsy Ross at 5:30 on a Friday was purely out of old habit. Any of the bridges may have been a better choice but old habits are hard to break. Tommy closes the window and turns on the air.

Not wanting to choke on exhaust while he was sitting in traffic on 95. It was frustrating but he was just enjoying the sites of his childhood. To his left was the battleship New Jersey and the Camden Waterfront, to his right brick buildings and Industry.

Black smoke bellowing from scrubbers towering out the top of manufacturing plants. After close to 30 minutes he reached his exit and turned off and into South Philly looping around and under an overpass and coming out Face to Face with the city’s Stadium complex, a few lefts and rights and quickly turning into a parking lot. Getting out of the truck and walking through the alley leading to the street.

Tommy came to a glass front building. The sign read Royal StriKing, an MMA Gym and past his own reflection in the glass Tommy could make out a familiar face.

Evan Blane. Tommy pushes his way through the glass door and immediately begins walking over to Evan. The man behind the counter never having seen him before begins to yell but Evan just puts his hand up and the clerk settles back into his chair.

Tommy smiles at the clerk and states “Pay no mind to the man behind the curtain.” Looking back to Evan as he bends down to pet the dog who is happily sitting and waiting for his affection.

“It’s been a long time old friend and I’m starving. Pats or Genos?” ‘

“Neither.” Evan replies.

“Steve Prince of Steaks or Joes Steak Shack.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” Tommy says with a grin growing on his face, and the two depart to enjoy some sandwiches.

Arriving at Steve’s after a short ride and a freak out over parking. The two walk in and order their steaks the take them outside to eat.

“So Evan I’ve asked you to meet today to ask a favor. I need help gathering the wrestlers of the HWA.”

Blane looks at Tommy with an inquiring smirk. "And why would I do that?"

“Well you could sit here doing nothing waiting for a fight that may or may not come. Or you could go back to work and fight at an event” Tommy Raises both his eyebrows back at Blane and takes a large bite of cheesesteak.

"A fight? What are you getting at?" Blane retorts harshly after swallowing his bite.
“I mean I have a job, I'm training the next upcoming fighters, you saw that."

“Yeah I get it you get that TV deal for the Ultimate Fighter? When’s that start?”

"Ok, fine. So why are we getting HWA back together"

“It’s not us, it’s you know who and he’s offered the HWA up to Ron Royalty. One more One Night Stand for it all my friend.”

As Blane heard those words his face lost all color. He started flashing back to long past feuds. "You got to be kidding me. Starr? Wait. Who else is involved?"

“No one has heard from him in years Evan.” Tommy takes another bite of his sandwich and continues to talk. “But this isn’t about just him this is about the HWA itself.”

"Ok. My next question is important, what's your plan. Is there a plan?" Blane said bluntly, while waving part of his sandwich in the air.

“Kevin Conners got a plan I’m just gonna kinda wing it. Now listen I don’t need you right away. I’ll double back at some point and pick you up just have your things in order ready to go. Roooaaad Triiiiiip. I’m leaving in the morning for New York to find Flames and we’ll see how things shake out from there.”

"Ok where should I start? What should I do? Kinda feel left out in dark here." Blane comments "I mean you just took me from my job, and bought me dinner just to tell me about getting the HWA back together just to keep me on the bench?"

“Well I figured since you have a day job you would need to arrange for time off man. If you want you can go with me to New York or.” Tommy rustles one his pocket and pulls out his phone opening the notes app and scrolling through a list. “You can look for Unknown Ninja, Morgoth, Hollywood D, Bigg Money Fudge or you can meet up with Kevin and his squad and get with.” Tommy makes air quotes. “The Plan.”

Blane ponders for a minute or two, then asks "Do we have a location for Unknown? or Morgoth? or even Hollywood? Since I kinda feel we are kinda going off half cocked with this."

“No idea man that’s why I’m going to see Flames I know where she is and she’s close maybe she will know where we can find some people and then maybe those people know where other people are” Tommy says.

"Ok. How bout this." Blane says to Tommy with a bit of an attitude, "Call me when you talk to Flames from where ever she is. Ill get the first flight out of Philly International to wherever, and from there we coordinate a little better."

“Don’t get snotty.” Tommy grins. “You should feel honored that I came to you first. We haven’t seen each other in years and we live right across the bridge from each other. When I saw the video from Rayne the first thing I said is I gotta go get Evan. So I did, you know me man I never reaaally have a plan.”

"Yeah I know, I remember UBW. Alot of promises and a lot of let down. Why do you think I got out of wrestling in general." Blane fires back harshly. "Listen, I knew shit was going south with the company, all you had to do is call me and let me know what was going on and I would have hung on, and I know the phone works both ways but I was getting let down on both sides."
Blane stands up from the table and grabs his empty water bottle to throw it out, when he gets the feeling hes being watched. Blane's eyes scans the area and sees a man with in a hood staring at him and when Blane makes eye contact with him, bolts from sight.

“I’m sorry Evan, You know I never wanted it to end the way it did but the situation was completely out of my control. There was nothing I could do.”

Blane hold his hand up as to stop Tommy from speaking and says "We are being watched. Who would be following you or could possibly be interested in what we are talking about?"

Tommy laughs at the thought. “Nobody is following me man. Fuck were just sitting here having cheesesteaks what’s so interesting about that? You sure they weren’t just a fan of The Real Fn Deal?”

"Dude, I know the looks of the fans, this man was straight up spying. We gotta go. We can lay low at my place, and you can leave from there."

“Whatever you say man. Works for me.” Tommy stands up and throws his trash away. “Let’s roll then.”

"Danny, it's Alicia. Just wanted to call and check in. Nothing big, just a little chat, see how things are going. I'm a little worried, Danny, that you might be off your FUCKING rocker lately and running MY company into the fucking dirt!

Do you remember when I offered to resurrect the HWA for you? And you said no? Yeah? And you remember when I asked you to take care of UBW, and instead of doing that, you ran the ring red with blood? Ringing any bells maybe? How about this: Do you remember when a bunch of steroid-addled simpletons started talking to anyone who would listen about some sort of hare-brained 'resistance,' and taking back their precious wrestling name from Rayne? Do you remember how you chose to dealt with that situation?

Because I am just, I'm having trouble recollecting, Danny. See, I just can't help but keep remembering that you reached out to them and invited them to a Pay Per View event. Using MY money. As MY puppet Eric. And ERIC RAYNE. WRESTLING. IN THE MAIN EVENT.

Now that can't be correct. I must be misremembering something here, right? Because that simply wouldn't do at all. After all, If I recall, Eric Rayne is currently suffering from the effects of two and a half feet of steel in his heart. So that can't be right.

Call me back, Danny. Help jog my memory. Because this way that I believe things are happening doesn't look very good for your continued success where it comes to the High Society. It doesn't look good at all, Danny." -click-

Danny finishes listening to Alicia's anticipated reaction from the speakers of his office phone's voice-mail. He knows the walls are beginning to close in but he can't let Alicia's threats derail his strategy. He would prove it to her, once again, that he knows how to handle a situation of this caliber. A knock at the door breaks his concentration. He looks at his surveillance camera and sees Scarlett Rayne Sengir waiting for the permission to enter in between two Stormcorp guards.

"Come." Danny shouts, standing up to greet Scarlett as she shuts the door behind her.

“Danny I have a question for you. Why are you wasting your time and resources on these people, there are better things you could be doing with your time. You have people to do this sort of thing for you.” Scarlett asks raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips as if to also ask the question with her face itself not just the words she spoke.

"These people." Danny scoffs, "The things needed to be done to shut them up and stop them from dragging our names through the mud have been threatened, have been sued, have been beaten; burn to the ground and shut down time and time again and yet... they still persist."

Danny sits down in his black leather chair.

"These people." Danny's gaze is serious and absolute, "Should be on their knees thanking me for ridding this universe of your half brother; and because of their endless conquest to seek me out I am STUCK (Danny slams his fists against the table, and swipes whatever is loose to the floor; startling Scarlett.) as your half-brother.

A pregnant pause fills the room as Scarlett hopes Danny calms down.

"I'm wearing the mask of my enemy..." Danny says, "I can't use my own voice or my own face and when I first got here I did plan on reviving the HWA and bringing all of them back. It was me who risked everything while they were STUCK! But now, I'm stuck..."

Danny clears his throat, looking at a weathered picture of Jenn leaning against the bottom of the computer screen. He looks back to Scarlett who is genuinely listening.

"I'm stuck with the curse of information." Danny weeps, "Stuck knowing that I was the brunt of a joke that Eric had been playing for years and to find out that the very people I did ALL OF THIS FOR had betrayed me, lied to me, abandoned me... THESE people... now want the HWA back? After they were quick to throw it away? Or sell it out? Now, they want to make me the villain and take it back for themselves? NO!"

Danny slams the table and points up to Scarlett.

"I don't want to hear i'm wasting my time!" Danny scolds her, "Not on these people... I've done that for far too long already. THIS... is redemption."

“I didn’t know this was so personal for you.” Scarlett cowers trying to stay composed but just being in Dannys presence was enough to send chills racing down her spine. I’m extremely grateful for what you have done for me and my family. I’m sorry I meant no disrespect.”

"I'm glad to hear it, Scar." Danny says, toning down his misplaced anger. "What I have done for you and the others worked, did it not?"

“Of course it did but Danny would it not be in your best interest to keep as low of a profile as you can?” Scarlett speaks up unsure of what would happen to her family if it did come out and the truth was revealed that Danny had killed Eric and been using his identity to hide. “I worry about you sometimes. You know?”

"Well, perhaps you should worry less about me and worry more about Tyler." Danny makes a veiled threat if she doesn't comply. "The technology I used to lure in the Left Hand WORKED!"

Danny now stands up, towering over a horrified Scarlett.

"It will work again." Danny promises, "We lure them in... and then we'll drive in the final nail in their already buried coffin."

Danny is fully aware that she understands what mentioning Tyler meant, and didn't dare question him again.

"We're friends, Scarlett." Danny smiles, sitting back down, "Friends back each other up... as I have backed you all up. Have I not earned your trust?"

“Yes of course you have.”

Danny and Scarlett's conversation is interrupted from an obnoxious notification blaring from his wall of screens. He looks down at his computer screen with great surprise but then looks back up to Scarlett as if their conversation were uninterrupted.

"Then trust me." Danny says, "Just do exactly what I say and this will all work out."

As the Honda crept into the parking lot behind another car, the driver couldn’t help but make a disgusted face. Again? Didn’t he live on anything else? He pulls the Honda into the space farthest away, and watches Tommy Romeo cautiously exit his car, looking around nervously before entering the 7-11 convenience store. At least he was giving a minimal sort of effort, Maxem would give the idiot that. Romeo presented zero challenges to a man like him though. He leans back in his seat and yawns. All the guy did was hide out at his home and eat. That was going to make for an interesting report. The biggest news was he had met up with Evan Blane at a local philly cheesesteak joint, another nobody from the HWA.

What had Blane ever accomplished? Just another Danny Starr minion, riding the coat tails of his sovereigns' fame. He couldn’t have thought for himself to save his life, he just mindlessly followed the great one, Lord Daniel Starr so close his nose would have gone right up Starrs ass if he had stopped too quickly. The pathetic soul had never even held any of the title belts. Maxems lip curls up in derision. He had strutted around like he owned the place, just like his sacred master Starr, without a whit of talent to back it up. Paltry athletes, the lot of the of FoS. What did they all have in common? Blind adoration for that second-rate son of a bitch Starr.

He sits back up as Romeo exits the store, happily holding a container that held a hot dog more than likely. Maxem had watched him eat countless numbers of them over the last few days. The fool was practically grinning as he got back into his vehicle to wolf down his meal. Maxem shakes his head as he feels his stomach flip at the thought of consuming that processed junk. He spies Romeos taillights flare to life and shifts his own into gear. He had switched cars once more, not wanting to take any chances. Hondas were common, so he had stuck with the brand. He sets it into motion, following Romeo out and towards the highway.

Maxems inklings that something is up rise the farther they get from New Jersey, and as they start to make some familiar turns, his suspicions are confirmed. They pull into an underground parking garage, Maxem driving beyond where Romeo parks, pulling into a spot on the next level, where he can still watch through the slits in the concrete. Romeo slinks from his car, seeming to check the cars before heading over to the elevator. Ryan rubs the back of his neck. Rayne would not like where this was going. As if on cue, the cell phone in his pocket vibrates. He leans to the side and pulls it out, answering with his name, as usual.

“There has been a change of plans. What I need for you to do now, is to get down to Florida. I have some people for you to... convince... that it would be in their best interest to pick the correct side. If they refuse, you know what to do.” Eric Raynes cultured voice orders. Maxem glances towards the elevator and asks “What about Romeo?”. Laughter comes from the other end of the phone. “Don't worry about him, just secure a GPS tracker to his car, and he will be handled.” Ryan nods, not relishing the information that he was just about to drop on his boss. “He’s at Flames’ apartment building right now.” Silence crackles on the line between them for a long moment. Raynes voice comes, harsher and harder than before. “Leave that to me. Flames is tending to a couple... liabilities at the moment. You just do as I say. You have five days. I will be in touch on where Stormcorp’s helicopter will be picking you up, to bring you to base. Don’t disappoint me.”

Maxem hears the click of the line disconnecting before he can respond. He pulls back and looks at the phone. That Rayne was a cold fish. He smiles wolfishly, that’s why Ryan chose to back him in this game rather than the pansies of the HWA. Not knowing how long he had, he swiftly grabbed his ever-present duffel bag and pulled out the GPS tracker.

Undoubtedly, New York being the closest was the place for Romeo to start. The Following morning after a night of reminiscing drinking and video games. Tommy leaves Evan and gets heads back to New Jersey, hopping straight into the turnpike and heading for Manhattan.

Tommy arrives at the bottom of the High Rise apartment building the door man opening the door for him and smiling, Tommy thinking the door man a fan stops and says thanks man, you want an autograph or something?”

The door Man just doing his job and having no clue who Tommy is squints at Tommy trying to decide he’s for real says “Sure?” and Tommy Immediately takes off his ballcap, spins it around and plops it down on the mans head, grabbing the side of his head tilting it and autographing the hat while on the mans head. Then walking through the door and straight to the elevator. The door man taking off the hat grossed out by the fact that some stranger had just put their hat on his head and looks at the signature.

“Who the fuck is this guy? The doorman states to his coworker as the door floats closed.

Tommy calls the elevator and it arrives within moments, he then steps in and presses the button for floor 50 and rides the elevator up. The doors open and Tommy walks out into the hallway turning right and following it all the way to the end. He rung the bell and waited for a response, pulled out his phone to call her but the number he had for her seemed to be long disconnected.

“This is why Evan was such a dick Tommy.” He thought out loud, “I don’t need a plan I just fly by the seat of my pants Evan. Your a dumbass is what you are driving all the way up here on a whim.”

Tommy puts his head against the door in defeat and the door creaks open.

“Well I’m not waiting out here if the door is open. Don’t mind if I do.”

He clutches the handle and walks right in, Closing the door behind him. Before him lay a fairly modernized NYC apartment. Standing in a small welcome area, he moves down a small hall and the apartment opens up into a large living room area.

Tommy however failing to notice the details around him fixed on one thing alone. The large bay style window looking out onto the New York Harbor. Still it was not the view that had his attention. It was the pictures taped to the window with the red lines of yarn leading to points on a map. Damien Michaels picture the largest of them all with a large red circle drawn around it in red marker.

Tommy approaches the window unsure of just what he had come across but he was beginning to get an idea, Flames had also been tracking down the HWA members.

“Well fuck. This made my job so fucking easy.” Tommy takes his phone out snapping pictures of the window and the map. Noticing a desk in the corner, he walks over to it and immediately starts going through it. In one of the drawers ripping things out and tossing them about carelessly, he finds a large folder with HWA payroll written on it sitting in plain sight in top of the desk. Tommy picks up the folder and opens it peering inside.

Of course deciding that this was just what he needed he tucks it under his arm. Deciding he got what he came for he picks up a pen and piece of paper, and leaves a note reading.

“Borrowing some things hope you don’t mind. Tommy <3” and leaves the apartment making sure to lock the door and pull it tight so no one else could get in the way he had.

A long drive to Maryland from Manhattan Tommy pulled off the Turnpike into a rest stop just after entering back into New Jersey he pulls his phone out and makes a phone call to Evan Blane then runs inside to use the bathroom and get some refreshments. Coming out of the bathroom Tommy bumps into a large man who immediately apologizes and pats him on the back.

“Hey man no worries.” Tommy replies too busy staring at his phone to care that he was the one the caused the collision. He walks into the convenience store and begins grabbing candy bars and bottles of soda. Piling them into the counter and grinning at the cashier. He pays for the snacks and hurried back to his truck ready to make his way 2 hours south to Annapolis.

Saturday morning rolls around and Evan’s alarm starts sounding from his phone. Evan groggily finds his phone and shuts it off and falls back on his bed face first. This causes the hangover to pound against his skull and drifts back to sleep. Hours past by Blane is dead asleep, until his phone goes off. Blane grabs it since it was right by his head, and he sees it’s Tommy.

“This better be good Tommy……” Evan says.

“What are you doing? I just left your house like 6 hours ago. Are you still laying there?” Romeo asks.

Blane responds still sounding sleepy "Dude we drank two bottles of Jack, I think I drank more than you. Therefore, I am still in bed nursing a wicked hangover. Are you in Manhattan already?" Evan asks.

“There and gone man I’m headed for Maryland I may grab a drink with Crimmy but I got a lead on TCO and I got a lead for you too.” Romeo says.

Blane perks up, and responds "Oh yeah? Tell Crimmy what’s up, and what is this lead?"

“Incoming.” Blanes phone vibrates against his head.

"Ow..... Got it, Thanks." Blane says awkwardly

Tommy retorts “Word man now get up and get to it.”

"Florida? I get to go to Florida. I may not come back! Haha...." Blane says with chuckle.

“Get a shower too you weirdo at one point last night you we’re eating your cheese fries by picking up the plate and rubbing it all over your face.” Tommy laughs out loud. “You know what never mind you’ll fit in better in Florida if you don’t. Have a nice trip! Oh, and Evan... don't mention you know who. No matter what. Do not say our former leader's name. It's very important that we wait until we have him where he needs to be before anyone else knows."

"What?" Evan asks, "That doesn't make sense."

"Trust me, man." Romeo says, "If the wrong person hears what we are doing, our plan will fail... you just have to trust me. We have to pick and choose our words carefully. Got it?"

"Uhh.. yeah." Evan is confused, "Sure, man... I don't want to be the one who ruins finally getting justice for UBW."

"Okay good." Romeo says, "Be safe, man."

"See ya" Evan responds as he sits up out of bed and seeing the clock for the first time. Blane slaps his face seeing that the clock reads 2:29pm. Shaking his head he gets up and gets in the shower.

Evan finishes his shower and throws on a shirt and gym shorts and flip flops, packs a small bag, and logs on to Travelocity and gets a hotel in Lakeland, FL and a flight to Tampa. As Blane passes through security, one of the guards notices him and got starstruck. After signing an autograph and posing for a picture, Blane pulls his hat down a little lower and grabs some snacks at a stand. Evan finally arrives at his gate and sits down and starts eating and watching the news.

As Blane sits there, something on TV catches his eye and he turns to watch it. The screen flickers and Blane recognized the logo that is broadcasted on the TV, it was the symbol of The High Society, then Eric Raynes face appears on the screen. Evan’s eyes are glued to the screen and his face goes completely pale. Everything Tommy said was right, Blane had his doubts about how severe the situation was. Thoughts start racing through his head, he was so deep in thought, Blane almost missed his boarding call.

Blane gets to Tampa at 9:45 pm and rents a car and heads to his hotel in Lakeland. Blane gets in his room and starts looking through information for Unknown Ninja last known location.

While sifting through information, Evan tries calling Danny’s last known phone number. The phone rings for a bit and Blane hears the voice of the answering machine. As Blane listens to the voice of his old friend, he starts feeling lost and depressed, Blane’s memories start flooding in from the years working with Danny and the rest of the Foundation. As Blane sits on his hotel bed, he finds a listing for Steven Davis, a name he recognized as the name of Unknown Ninja.

Blane calls the number found, after a couple rings the other side picks up with a “Hello?”

Blane responds “Hi there. Is this Steven Davis, also known as Unknown Ninja from the HWA?”

There was a long silence and a more silenced voice comes through the phone. “Who is this? How did you know who I am?”

Blane responses calmly “I know you don’t remember me but my name is Evan Blane, I belonged to the Foundation of Sensation in HWA, listen….. There is a situation you need to be aware of. Eric Rayne is up to something and I think he is former HWA members out. Is there any way we could meet up and you can come with me back to Philadelphia where we are going to meet up with Tommy Romero?”

A couple seconds of silence happens till Evan asks “Hello? Are you there?”

Unknown Ninja responds “Sure, where are you?”

Blane answers back with his location, and they agree to meet up in the morning for breakfast. Blane hangs the phone up and gets ready to go to bed.

The next morning Blane wakes up, checks his phone hoping to have received a return phone call from Tommy but there was nothing. Blane calls Unknown Ninja phone number and the phone just rings. Eventually it reaches voice mail, where Blane leaves a message for Unknown Ninja.

“Well this is weird. I’ll just wait for him to call me back.” Blane says to himself.

As Evan is getting dressed, Blane turns on the TV and the first thing he saw was the news about Unknown Ninja, dead in a car accident. Blane was stunned, he sat down on the bed just shocked. Blane got in the rental car and drove to the scene of the crash. Blane gets out of the car and pulls his hat down low over his face so no one can recognize him. Looking at the scene, Blane was just baffled. How could the person he just talked to just 6 hours before be gone?

After about 15 minutes, Blane went back to the car and heads to the airport. Again, going through security Blane was met with a star struck TSA agent and again he was asked for an autograph and photo. Blane stops off in the shop again to get snacks and again he sits in the terminal waiting for his flight. As Evan sits there, he pulls out his phone to check it before putting his headphones in, no response from Tommy still. Evan gets his headphones out as he boards the plane back towards home, feeling mentally drained and in a dark space. Blane lands back in Philly where his agent met him at the gate. Jacob Greenly concerned as Evan walks through the door that connects the plane with the terminal.

“Where the hell have you been? I have been calling you nonstop for the last 48 hours, and it kept saying my number was blocked! Why would you need to block my number?” Jacob said with hurt and confusion in his voice.

“I’m sorry man, I needed to take care of something, and I couldn’t let anyone know where I was going or what I was doing to protect people. How did you know I was going land here, or even knew I was gone?” Blane said sheepishly and with a little confusion.

“You were tagged by two separate TSA agents on Twitter, one here and one in Tampa. Blane do you know what’s going with this High Society thing? He kept talking about those in the HWA and I know you were a part of that company almost 10 years ago and now someone else who had ties to that company is dead! Are you involved in this? I cannot represent you if your going around murdering people or is going to end up being murdered. Sorry man I think I may have to drop you as a client.” Jacob says harshly back to Blane as they walked down the hallway to the parking garage.

Blane stops dead in his tracks and looks Jacob right in his eyes, and says bluntly “I think it might be better off if you dropped me as a client anyway, because the way things are going I may not be around any longer. A former colleague of mine just died on his way to meet me for breakfast and all you are concerned with is your reputation. Your priorities are fucked up man!” Blane grabs his bags and head for the door as Jacob just stands there.

“Oh Jacob, you suck as an agent and your fired.”

Blane goes through the door and heads to where the Ubers pick up and set his drop off point at the Royal StriKing, where he goes inside and explains to Karl behind the desk, what is going on. Karl just nods in confirmation, and Evan slinks off to the locker room to shower and changes in to another set of gym clothes with a hoodie, Blane nods to Karl and pulls his hat down and his hood up and heads towards his apartment with this hands in his pockets and his head down as not to draw too much attention to himself. Blane reaches home with out anyone really noticing him, and he just slips into his home where he quickly closes all the blinds and curtains and keeps just everything dark. Blane sits in darkness where he waits for Tommy to contact him.

It’s called a field of dreams.

The idea behind a field of dreams is that one perfect place to compete. It’s that place that brings you to your absolute best. It’s a place so majestic, that competing there feels like it brings you one step closer to God.

Depending on what your chosen field to compete in is, your field of dreams might be different. For one man, this field of dreams is located in Utah, set against the sun setting over the Rocky Mountains, watching two high school teams battle it out in a high stakes varsity lacrosse game.

The man is dressed in dark blue jeans, a black hoodie, and black sunglasses. After running his hands through his dark brown hair, gray hair mixing throughout and more into his full beard, he leans back against the bleachers and admires the setting sun against the mountains with thin clouds in the sky. The mountains start to turn dark as the sky turns orange and red, looking like a beautiful, fiery end to the day.

What a life to be able to live.

The man smiles as he takes in the totality of what’s in front of him. Two tribes of men, competing to be better, to prove their worth, competence. Learning to trust the brother running with them while leading. Mastering the aggression required to be better than the other man across from them, but balancing that against the innate desire to drive the other man into the ground and leave them there for dead. The mountains, the sky, the crisp air make the perfect backdrop for the “medicine game”.

This isn’t the first field of dreams for the man. It’s actually the third. The first was the practice fields at the United States Naval Academy on the Severn River in Annapolis, MD. The second was numerous arenas around the world, as the man wrestled the best the industry had to offer for years…people like Hollywood D, Judge, Danny Starr…

The sounds of a shot banging off of the cross bar bring the man back to the reality, watching as the ball ricochets back into play, where one of the midfielders snag the ball, sidestep the off balance defender, and then bury the ball in the corner of the goal. The shooter celebrates with his team as the goalie looks down in disgust.

“Hey man, you got a game tonight?”

The man removes his glasses, stands up and smiles warmly at the fortysomething man walking up to him.

“Not tonight, Brian. Just taking in the high school kids figuring it out.”

Brian smiles and nods his head.

“That was a pretty great game you had the other day, playing against the 30 year old’s. Aren’t you almost 50?”

“Ha! Still trying to be better, even at my age.”

Brian sits down next to him, watching the teams wrap up for the day.

“Well, it definitely looks like you still try to go out and prove something.”

“I have to. After all, who knows what tomorrow will bring? We weren’t put on this earth to age gracefully. So as long as God gives me the chance, I’m going to compete, I’m going to push myself and see what I’m capable of…and I’m going to be there for my boys. Oh, and beers in the parking lot, shooting the shit before we have to go embrace the day-to-day.”

Brian looks at the man and shakes his head.

“Something tells me you had a heck of a life before you got out here, Thomas.”

The flashes of cage matches, championship belts, blood, sweat, tears, wins…losses. They all go before the man’s eyes, and fade as quickly as they came. It’s heartachingly beautiful to remember, and heart wrenching to feel them fade, faster than they did the last time his thoughts went there.

“Ha! I wish. I’m just a guy Brian, you know that!”

“Yeah, a guy that still has a pretty sharp shot on the run for almost 50. Didn’t you crush that guy on the ride too?”

The sounds of cleats banging up the steps breaks up the conversation, as the high schoolers start to head out. Both men stand and watch as their sons, still dripping with sweat, make their way up.

“Anyway, we could use some numbers tomorrow night if you’ve got time.”

Thomas smiles, and nods.

“I’ll see you then, out by Park City?”

“You got it, 9:00. Beers on me.”

“Better have some Sea Quench.”

Brian laughs, grabs his son’s bags, and heads up the stairs.

Thomas looks at his six foot 17 year old son, Tyler. The similarities are there. Same bearing, same shit eating grin, same athletic build. Thomas takes it in, as you never know how many moments you’ll have like this…but life is good. So good.

“You ready Dad?”

“I am, but what about you? Looked a little tired out there today.”

“Bull!”

“You should have buried that crossbar shot, Tyler, c’mon now.”

Tyler laughs and hugs his dad. Thomas hugs him back, seeing the last light of the sun illuminating the sky. The moment is interrupted by a ringing cell phone. Thomas looks down, slightly startled to see the East Coast area code.

“I’m going to grab this Tyler, go ahead up. I’m right behind you.”

Tyler nods, as Thomas slides the answer bar over on his iPhone.

“Hello.”

A refined, masculine voice answers with a slight accent. “Yes, is this Thomas Price?”

“Speaking.”

“You’re a hard man to find, Mr. Price…or should I say…Damien Michaels? Tell me…is the Utah sky still as beautiful as I remember it?”

It was like a gun was fired in the man’s mind. A gunshot shattering the beautiful stained glass artwork he had built over years of love, labor, and loss. The world simultaneously slowed down to a crawl while the man’s heart rate raced. The man’s years of training kicked in and he immediately scanned the area for threats and a way out.

“Or, Damien, are you that hard to find after all?”

“This is Thomas Price, I have no idea who Damien Michaels is.”

The man on the other line chuckled.

“I’m insulted. You know I know better, and I know you know who this is. You may have tried to bury him, but I know who you are, Damien. But cling to your real name, the identity you used to disappear from the rest of the world, it makes no matter to me. You’ll be Damien to me. I know you’ve been trying to keep tabs on me, as cute and yet ineffective as that is, and I know you’ve been purposefully hiding in Utah out of sight…but not out of my mind. You do know who this is, don’t you, after all?”

“Of course I do…Eric Rayne.”

“Well good, so you know what I want?”

“I do. I’m not part of that life anymore, and I won’t be a part of your games.”

The disappointed tsk of the man on the other line ccomes through like shotgun blasts. Thomas’s thoughts and attention raced to Tyler, who was almost all the way up the stairs. Realizing he lost track of time, Thomas looked at his phone and saw the call had been going on for 34 seconds.

“I thought that might be your answer. Well, Damien, that unfortunately won’t do. Do me a favor, watch the east coast evening news tonight. Maybe WWTG, Fox 5 out of Washington, DC? I trust you’re familiar.”

Thomas, or Damien, was expertly moving up the steps, scanning the environment while reaching behind his back for the Sig .45 under his jacket, undoing the holster strap. He was almost to Tyler, and waved him back a few steps from the parking lot.

“Listen, Damien, you’re going to give me what I want one way or the other. I don’t think you quite get the picture of what that means for you, do you?”

Nothing seemed out of place…the environment looked secure as Thomas scanned the parking lot. Tyler was laughing with one of his teammates.

“You’re obviously preoccupied at the moment, so I’ll cut right to the chase before you have a chance to track this call. I hope you appreciate the irony in me spoofing that old area code from your home. Damien, I’m going to finish the HWA off once and for all.”

“It’s already dead, you and Ron Royalty saw to that.”

“No, no, no, Damien, no. It’s not dead on my terms. I want you to be very, very aware. I know who you are, I know where you are. I know how to find you whenever I want. I have for a long time. But you’re safe. I want you to watch as I dismantle what’s left of the HWA and it’s people. It started with Unknown Ninja already, but I suppose your head was too far in the sand to notice, hmmm? Pity. You are either going to bury it at my behest as a member of High Society, or you’re going to spend the rest of your life knowing you did nothing while I pulled these sleepy, unassuming, unknowing former teammates and friends and partners of yours from their boring, unsuspecting lives…and give them the funeral pyre they deserve. And I’ll let you live with the shame. How long do you think your ‘honor and integrity’ will allow you to live that way?”

The sweat was rolling down Thomas’s face, and Tyler noticed the look on his dad’s face. Thomas smiled, waved him off, and looked back towards the mountains.

“I hope being a coward suits you, ‘Mr. Price’. Please pass on my best to Dee, Katie, TJ, Ben, and Tyler, would you? Consider my offer. You can be the executioner and execute that duty with brutality or with discretion, or you can be complicit in a genocide. Either way, you’re still my pawn, Damien.”

As the call cut out, the lights on the field went out as well. Thomas and Tyler loaded up in his truck, and Thomas pulled down his visor mirror.

“Dad, are you alright?”

The brown eyes in the mirror stared back at the former HWA World Heavyweight Champion, mind racing, contemplating the phone call.

The man in the mirror, now going by his real name of Thomas Price, spent a majority of his adult life going by the name Damien Michaels, also known as the HWA Hall of Famer… The Chosen One.

And the life he left behind, buttoned up and laid to rest, carefully put away and hidden from all but a select few, had come back for a final reckoning.

“I’m fine, son. Ready to head home? I think I need to talk with your mom, you, and your brothers.”

As much as Tommy hated the fact that his professional nickname was shared with this man, he respected him and he knew that he must be found and convinced to take back what was truly his all along. It was dark when Tommy arrived at TCOs there weren’t any lights on in the house. Checking his phone he decided that it wasn’t too late in the evening to try knocking. Parking his truck and walking down the driveway, the closer he gets to the house the less sure he becomes of himself, stuffing it down and attributing it to it being chilly out, he climbs the stairs onto the porch and finds the front door ajar. “Hello?” He yells into the house before pushing the door open completely. The smell of gas fills his nostrils.

“Hello Tommy.” From a familiar voice in a dark corner. ”Come in and close the door behind you.”

Ever trusting, Romeo steps into the home and closes the door behind him. The smell of gas now almost gagging him.

“Flames? Is that you? What are you doing in TCOs house and will you ever tone it down? it wreaks in here.” Tommy says through his shirt as he had now pulled it up over his face.

“I’ve been expecting you. Did you think I wouldn’t have a security system? A state of the art security system.”

“Well I’m glad your here, I was clearly looking for you anyway.“ Romeo gags out through the smell of gas.

“Yes... I know” Flames smiles, walking towards him in the darkness.

"Right... because of the 'state of the art security system." Tommy is reminded, "Why did you feel the need to buy that?"

“I didn't..” She strikes a match, lighting up her face in the flame's glowing light, "Eric did."

"Oh shit!" Tommy's eyes widen right before her kick knocks him out cold.

Tommy awakens now on the lawn, a shadow standing In front of him. Tommy awakens now on the lawn, a shadow standing in front of him. Romeo’s dazed, confused by the explosion and rendered deaf by the shockwave. As he regains his focus, a shadow appears from his right side, aggressively moving towards Romeo.

“Get the fuck away from me. “ He shouts and jumps to his feet. The shadow approaches and as the light of the fire flickers he recognizes the face.

“Oh fuck! Cloud? You too?” Tommy says backing away.

“Tommy – it was me. Calm down, I got you out of the house. I know what happened, and I know why you’re here.”

“Where is Damien?? I need to find him! Was he in the house?” Cloud shakes his head grimly.

“He hasn’t been here in a long time. Look – he has me here watching the place. You need to get out of here before you’re noticed.” Cloud leans in and hands Tommy a piece of paper, and then runs back into the burning house wreckage.

“Cloud – what are you doing?” Cloud looks back at Romeo with resolve

“Playing my part in this war…you need to do yours.” With that, Cloud ran around the corner of the house and into the basement.

“Good luck!” Romeo says quietly, turning away and heading back to his truck. He slammed the door, turning the keys in the ignition and flooring it away from the burning manor, sirens audible in the background. His mind was racing a mile a minute.

“What did I get myself into?” He thought.

“I guess I’ll really find out when I find TCO. But how did Cloud know I was coming? Why hasn’t TCO been here?” Looking down at the paper in his hand, Romeo realizes his next stop is almost all the way across the country.

Driving night and day completely exhausted, Tommy realizing he gas tank is on E pulls off into a small town in Eastern Utah.

“This is the dumbest way to cross the country ever.” He mumbled to himself as he sat waiting for someone to pump his gas.

After waiting for about 10 minutes he angrily storms into the store demanding service. As Romeo grumpily walked through the store, he bumped into a tall man with a hood over his head as he approached the counter. Quickly realizing he not at home in Jersey and asking for fourty dollars on pump three. A quick piss some snacks and drinks, a chilli cheese dog for the road and Romeo was back into the truck.

Tactical Fabrication is where Cloud had instructed Tommy to go before running back into the flame engulfed house. Romeo now almost losing his mind about what had happened in Maryland, eyes bloodshot, hasn’t slept in hours running only on Gas station food and Coffee, can not seem to let his mind rest. What was actually a half hour ride from the gas station was already over.

Tactical Fabrication was a nondescript warehouse building in an industrial area near the mountains, outside of Salt Lake City. Romeo parks illegally, wearily rubbing his eyes and slamming his truck door shut. Romeo walks directly into the front of the door. The lobby was relatively small, with a small waiting area, a receptionist and desk, and seemingly unimposing set of doors to offices on the side, and to an unseen area to what could only be assumed to the storage area of the warehouse. The uninterested receptionist peered over her glasses at the obviously grumpy Romeo, who slumps over the countertop and looks at the receptionist.

“Sir – how can I help you?” “I need to speak to TCO.” The receptionist stared blankly back at Romeo.

“Who?” Romeo rubbed his temples and stared down at the countertop.

“You might know him as Damien Michaels. Former HWA Champion and founder? 6’3, 225, blonde hair?”

The receptionist continued to stare at him, completely uninterested.

“Sir, we don’t have anyone by that name. This is a parts fabrication center for defense customers.” Romeo’s headache is coming on. Something is nagging at him – this doesn’t add up – but he can’t see through the tiredness.

“Ma’am, I was told I could find Mr. Michaels here. Cloud sent me.”

“Sir, we don’t have anyone here by that name, and I don’t know a ‘Cloud’. Is that like the character from the PS4 game from a long time ago?”

Tommy Romeo blinks the light out of his eyes, and faces the realization that this trip suddenly just became hopeless. “I’m sorry to bother…have a good one.”

Romeo walked out of the lobby and into the late morning sunshine. Trying to get his bearings, he fumbled for his sunglasses and keys when he caught movement around the corner of the building. Too tired, too slow, Romeo wasn’t able to react quickly enough as someone in a black hooded sweatshirt hit him in the side of the head with a truncheon. The world goes dark, and as Tommy loses consciousness, he hears “Dad – got him. Bringing him around for int…”

Tommy Romeo shook his head to the smell of ammonia from smelling salts. Coming to, Tommy squeezes his eyes and tried to move his arms and legs. “Tommy Romeo…welcome to Utah.”

Thomas Price sat watching WTTG Fox 5 from Washington, DC at his home near Park City. The news reports were flying fast about an explosion at the former home of the HWA superstar, killing his “spouse” Katie, and leaving nothing but destruction from the blast. He watched emotionless and blankly as his wife, Dee, brought him a cup of coffee.

“Why do they think Katie was there, and more importantly, why do they think you’re still married to her?”

Thomas looked at his short, beautiful, brunette curly haired wife and smiled.

“I’m sorry, is something funny?”

Thomas stifled a laugh and shook his head.

“I can’t figure out, for the life of me, how you take the blowing up of a multimillion-dollar home and make it about you.”

Dee rolled her eyes and walked away, shaking her head this time. She grabbed her own cup of coffee and sat down next to him.

“Have you talked to Katie?”

Thomas breathed deep and nodded.

“She’s fine, she out on her farm. I told her to expect some calls but…you know. It’s Katie. She likes the quiet, the solitude, and being left alone. This is just going to annoy her.”

“I don’t understand…how would they be fooled into thinking she was there?”

At this point, TJ, Thomas’s oldest son with Katie, walks in. He’s followed by Tyler, Thomas’s youngest son with Dee, and Ben, Tyler’s older brother.

They all sit around the kitchen table, and TJ speaks first.

“Dad, so you talked to my mom?”

“Yeah, I was just talking to Dee about it. She’s fine. She wants you to head out to Montana and help her with the grazing season soon.”

Thomas took a sip of his coffee and stared at his tablet, thinking about that house. That house…and everything it represented. It was the first boyhood dream he had made come true through his hard work and skill, that house…on that property…in Annapolis. So much had happened there. But it was also so far removed from his mind, it was almost like a dream at the moment.

The news reporter was talking when something caught Thomas’s eye. They were playing back footage when there was a heated conversation between two men almost out of sight of the camera. Thomas couldn’t make one out, but the other had blonde spiky hair, and there was only one man that could be.

“Alright…Ben, Tyler, you guys know a little bit about my life before coming out here. Most of your life has been here. TJ was a kid through most of the stuff, but I want to bring this all into focus for all of you so you know what’s going on tonight.”

So, Thomas told them everything. How he graduated from the Naval Academy, was sheep dipped by the CIA early on in his career and how he stayed in the agency for a career, until one day he started wrestling, almost as a joke. How he worked in a couple of minor federations until one day, he teamed up with a man named Ron Royalty, and they started the HWA. Thomas, working under his assumed name, Damien Michaels, started off as a ringside announcer and then worked his way back into the ring. As The Chosen One, he formed Tha Aftermath, won titles, fought the likes of Judge, Danny Starr, Ryan Maxem, Hollywood D…made great friends like Sett, Morgoth, Da Masta, Anubis, and the man in the video, Cloud.

He told them of championships, hell in the cell matches, wins, losses, beatings, one particularly funny pay per view involving the Hardcore title and Kevin Conner in a toilet, falling in and out love with wrestling, the failing of his relationship with Katie, their divorce, and the fall of the HWA.

“So once Ron sold out to Eric Rayne, it was over. And so was one dramatic, chaotic part of my life. I didn’t know what to do, but I was done being…there. Being The Chosen One, being Damien. I picked up the pieces of what I needed and headed west. That was you, TJ, after working stuff out with your mom, and boys…” Thomas gestured to Dee. “…I found your mom as well. We just packed up and headed here to rebuild. I knew Rayne was bad news – the little bits I got from my intel buddies confirmed it – so I threw away TCO and just became me again. I knew I could go back to my roots in the mid 2000s with the wars raging in the Middle East and the CIA doing what it needed to go. So, we built Tactical Fabrication and…well, here you all are. The last twenty years of life gave me an appreciation for what a wild ride that was. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, just wasn’t was mature enough, didn’t have the wisdom to see how amazing it was to be surrounded by that caliber of people, doing what they did at the highest level. We waged war on each other, every night. I had great teammates, brothers in arms…we fought together, bled together, cried together. But…the way it went out…it’s still bitter. I still hold something pretty dark for Ron after all these years, selling out to Rayne.”

Ben looked at his father and spoke up.

“So who is Eric Rayne?”

“Eric Rayne…he’s like a Bond villain.”

Tyler laughed at his dad, but TJ cut him a look.

“I’m not kidding. TJ knows. He’s been running the business with me long enough. Seriously…we’ve been trying to get a handle on him for years. He’s of interest to the United States Government because he’s tied into everything – and I mean everything. Drugs, human trafficking, manipulating the markets, inciting religious wars…he’s pulling the strings on everything. And yet, despite all of that…he’s had some sort of weird desire to run wrestling organizations. I don’t understand it. He’s taken down multiple federations. But the HWA…the HWA has a real special place in his heart. To this day, no one seems to really understand what he’s up to, only that he enjoys being a puppet master.”

The news picked back up and was now confirming the death of Katie Michaels through dental records. Dee traded looks with her boys, who were admittedly taken aback by the danger the situation now posed to their safety.

“How…if Katie is fine…how could they confirm she’s dead?”

Thomas got up and walked to the porch. It was a clear night, the stars were out and hanging over the Rocky Mountains. Thomas lit a cigar and puffed away, trying to figure out the pieces.

“My best guess is that Eric found some hooker, or druggie that was close enough to Katie’s appearance, stashed her in the house, and blew it up. Given that most of our medical records are online these days, it probably didn’t take him much to hack the dentist office and falsify the dental records ahead of time. But, he’s also got the media and local law enforcement on his payroll. Not hard to manipulate to get his message out.”

“But what would he want from you?” Dee asked.

“When he called me earlier – and it’s not the first time he’s tried, but it is the first time he called me direct – he wants me to be his executioner. I think…I think he’s going to hunt down the former HWA and other federation stars and start wiping people out. But because he’s a fucking sociopath…he wants me to be complicit in destroying it. And if I don’t join his inside circle called High Society…he’ll leave me alive to watch and live with the idea that I could have stopped it. It’s a conscience play…but I think he’s overestimated how much I actually care to stop him when I have this life and you all to look after.”

“Why would he blow the Annapolis house up? He knows you’re not there, and he obviously knew Katie wasn’t.”

TJ’s phone rings and he steps away.

“Right…well, I assume that he could just be trying to get my face out there…” Thomas motions to the news broadcast, showing him from his HWA, complete with Championship gold over his shoulder. “…or trying to get a reaction not knowing I know where Katie is? Or maybe, maybe…the message isn’t meant for me. Maybe it was meant for someone else.”

Ben and Tyler look at each other, and Tyler speaks.

“Dad, I don’t see how you’re not getting involved.”

“Tyler – I’m not putting you guys at risk by getting drawn into this. You’re protected here. I’ve already made some calls and…”

“But you’re YOU, you’re The Chosen One! It was your organization that you built with Ron and yes, it failed but…how can you leave those people to die?”

Thomas is speechless. As he gets ready to respond, TJ walks back over to the group and looks to Thomas.

“That was Cloud. He’s fine, but he says we have a visitor on his way to us. Apparently, someone else picked up the gauntlet that was thrown down and he’s investigating. The guy’s name is Romeo, and Cloud gave him the link to you and Tactical Fabrication. Cloud is taking care of a couple things back east and will be flying out this way soon.”

Thomas looked at his family, his life. He breathed deep, and took it all in.

These last years had been perfect. They just had been. Great family, good work, a community, a life to be proud. A life he had earned. Now it was threatened and all he wanted to do was to protect it at any cost. As he gathered them all up and hugged them all, he started to work out a plan to stay out of this war…a war he didn’t believe in anymore. He just wanted to be left out of it. He had been a hero, once before…but Rayne was ruthless. This place was safe, and they could disappear again if they had to.

Deep breath. First things first. Tommy Romeo was coming to see him in Utah. Time to roll out the red carpet and see what this guy was all about.

The early evening sun began to dip from the sky, making its slow decline beyond the horizon. Tristan stood in his bedroom, changing out of his work attire. He had been an official Texas Ranger since 2016, putting his soldier background to good use, working closely alongside his sister’s girlfriend, Raenia Campbell. Most of the days had been rather uneventful and Tristan liked feeling that he was making a difference. This past year had been particularly hard on him as new border restrictions continued to put him and his fellow officers in compromising situations. An immigrant himself, he had received a much different welcome all those years back when first coming to the States. These people were trying to escape such horrors as he was, yet… here he was now, denying them that chance that he had graciously been given. He had the American Dream; an enjoyable career, a gorgeous wife, a beautiful daughter, a sturdy roof over his head – he was torn that he had to stand on the line and keep others from even having that chance. Tristan heaved a sigh as he took off his button-up shirt and tie, tossing them onto the made-up bed. Placing his cowboy hat, something he still felt weird wearing, on the nearby dresser, he walked into the bathroom, turning the faucet on. The water felt cold and refreshing on his face and hair, this Texas heat something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to. His thumb brushed against the metal on his finger as it had a habit to do, as if to assure himself that it was still there. A smile crept across his lips as he recalled the day of his wedding; an absolutely perfect day in the spring of 2017. They had to wait longer then they wanted, what with Tristan being put through such a rigorous training with the Rangers… but it had all been worth it. Niahm, their daughter, was around two years old at the time of their wedding, and so – despite her young age – seemed to make the moment that much more special.

Syren: Tristan!?

His wife’s voice floated up the stairs, into the bedroom, and finding him in the bathroom.

Tristan Wolfe: (turning the sink off) Ya, love?

Syren: You better hurry up; Angel’s not going to wait forever…

He finished drying his face, before exiting the bedroom. He lingered in the hallway briefly, his eyes going to his daughter’s room. She was already six years old now, how fast the time flew by! Every day she brought something new, something exciting, to his life. Tristan had never considered having children before but the day that Syren had told him the news; it was like a switch had been flipped inside him – almost as if destiny had slapped him upside the head for never thinking about it before.

Syren: Tristan…!?

Syren’s voice broke him from his trance as he hurried down the steps, seeing his wife standing in the kitchen. Her back was to him as she eagerly worked on their dinner for the evening. Seated at the bar a few feet away from her were Skye and Raenia, both women lost deep in conversation. Tristan recalled the day that Skye had finally told him and his brother about her “new love”, how nervous she had been. He had never seen her like that; she was always so strong and sure of herself. He wished he had done more to make her feel like she didn’t have to feel that way… that she would’ve known he would’ve accepted and loved her unconditionally. Tristan went up to his sister, wrapping her in a bear hug and giving her a kiss on her forehead.

Skye Wolfe: (laughing and trying to wrestle free) Get the feck off me ya, badzer… you know I have a Texas Ranger for a wife, right?

As if the threat was a legitimate one, Tristan released his hold on his sister and put his hands up, indicating he didn’t want any further trouble. Skye playfully sneered at him as he laughed at how her face scrunched up in annoyance.

Tristan Wolfe: Believe me, I’ve seen your wife in action and I want no part in that, thank you!

Raenia laughed aloud as she put an arm around Skye, as if she was trying to calm the fiery Wolfe down. The two, themselves, married during a private ceremony in 2018. The world was still not as accepting of these types of relationships – to which Tristan had never quite realized before. Too often would he find himself out with his sister and her wife, only to have some ignorant asshole create an unnecessary conflict. Though he knew how much it “hurt” them to have to experience such prejudice, Tristan did find a bit of satisfaction in dishing out some “hurt” of his own during these moments. Not that he – or Angel – really needed to protect them, Raenia and Skye were more than capable and willing to handle themselves in these moments. Most of the time, diplomacy usually failed during these moments and Tristan was rewarded with getting the opportunity to bloody his knuckles.

Syren: (starting to get irritated) Tristan…? Your brother has been in the barn for over ten minutes now; you know what happened last time we left him unattended…

He looked to Syren, seeing her looking over her shoulder at him. All these years later and she still looked as vivacious as ever. A rather natural urge began to rise within Tristan, but he did his best to qualm it… realizing it was probably something that their present company wouldn’t want to be witnesses to. Instead, he simply smiled at her, approaching her and placing his hands on her shoulders, massaging them.

Tristan Wolfe: Relax Sy… I’m sure Angel can stand to wait a few moments later.

Tristan placed a soft kiss on Syren’s neck, causing a shiver to run up her spine. She mischievously locked her eyes to his, her lips turning into a sultry smile, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

Syren: If you don’t get out there before he breaks something…

She brought her finger up to his face, poking Tristan on the nose and leaving behind a blotch of barbeque sauce from their impending dinner.

Syren: … then I will be taking it out on your ass, tonight.

Skye Wolfe: (trying to cover her ears) Ugh, Sy! I don’t want to hear this…

Raenia laughed again as Syren arched her eyebrow up at Tristan, doing her best to keep a straight face and intimidate her husband into doing her bidding. He simply smiled back at her, wiped the sauce from his nose, and sampled it.

Tristan Wolfe: Come now Sy… don’t threaten me with such a good time.

Skye groaned again as Tristan laughed and gave his wife a quick smack on the ass. Syren nearly jumped out of her body as she turned to face her husband, ready to get him back, only to find that he had hastily shuffled his feet out of the kitchen and to the door. Syren narrowed her eyes at him as he simply gave his wife a quick wink, before walking out the door.

He could hear the three women talking and laughing behind him as he stepped off the porch and into the front yard, making his way towards the barn. Much had changed with the layout of the Sirenum Ranch as the wildfire of 2018 had all but destroyed the entire foundation. Thankfully, the two had some friends in high places as Starr Enterprises stepped in and oversaw the rebuild of Tristan and Syren’s home. It had taken a lot longer than Tristan would’ve liked and, by the end, he swore he would never stay in a hotel ever again. It had all been worth it, however, as they came back to find the Ranch looking exactly how Syren had dreamt it would. A newly redesigned barn that was more a state-of-the-art training facility then anything, complete with a wrestling ring, weight and exercise equipment, and a spot for Tristan’s punching bags. They now had a stable for the few horses that Syren still owned and the family made good use of them, constantly going out for horse-back rides together. Aside from the structural changes made, they also now had a few crops of corn planted, in addition to a flower bed garden filled with various floral arrangements.

More laughter cut through Tristan’s memories as he turned to see his daughter, Niahm, and Raenia’s daughter, Adlynn, running towards him. Behind them, a small huskie pup chased after them, playfully barking as the girls continued to giggle. As they passed, Tristan managed to wrap his arms around them both, easily lifting them up into the air and spinning around.

Tristan Wolfe: And where do you think you two little ladies are running off to, ah?

Niahm: (pouting) Daddy… we were trying to get away from Calisto!

Tristan laughed as he continued to spin with them hoisted in the air while the puppy continued barking, waiting for them to hit the ground again so she could continue to give chase. Niahm and Adlynn, though laughing, continued to squirm and try and break free of his grip. Eventually, he acquiesced to their demands as Calisto tried jumping on Niahm, licking at her face. Adlynn wrapped her hand around Niahm’s as the two began running again, the puppy looking up to Tristan as if she needing permission to follow.

Tristan Wolfe: (kneeling down to pet the husky) Go get ‘em girl…

Calisto clumsily bounded off after them as Tristan stood back up.

Tristan Wolfe: (yelling after the girls)…don’t go off too far now Niahm, your Mother will have dinner ready soon!

He watched them disappear into the corn fields, one of their favorite places to play. They loved hiding between the stalks, scaring each other and – unfortunately – Calisto. The puppy was rather gentle with them though, a trait she had inherited from Angel, who had received the huskie as a birthday gift from Tristan and Syren earlier this year. He never seemed to have gotten over the news of Cosmo’s tragic death, a sacrifice by Syren’s faithful huskie that had actually saved their lives, and the life of their unborn daughter.

Angel Wolfe: About fecking time… what, did you get lost?

Tristan’s brother had already detached the hood of the tractor as he appeared to be tinkering with the engine. Angel was more mechanical then Tristan, especially after his return stateside. Having decided that he had seen enough warfare, Angel went a different route than his younger brother, instead pursuing a career in Engineering. The pay was decent, the hours kept him busy most days, and he didn’t have to worry about the tiniest mistake blowing up in his face.

Tristan Wolfe: Sorry brother… got a little sidetracked…

Angel turned to face his brother, eyeing him up suspiciously.

Angel Wolfe: Jayzus Christ, keep it in your pants… I swear you two are worse than a bunch of sex-crazed teenagers.

Tristan’s eyes wandered to the wrestling ring, remembering exactly how the married couple had “broken it in”. Passion and desire had never been an issue for the two within their relationship and marriage only seemed to have enhanced that aspect of their lives. The wildfire of 2018 nearly destroyed that though, in more ways than one. Syren had been pregnant with their second child when the blaze woke them from their slumber. Tristan had gone to free the horses while Syren was tasked with keeping Niahm safe. However, mother and daughter had found themselves trapped inside the house, unable to escape. By the time Tristan discovered where they were and gotten his family to safety, the smoke inhalation had done its damage. That was the darkest time the couple had ever faced together and Tristan, truthfully, didn’t know if they would survive. Living in that hotel forced them into close proximity with each other, neither parent able to escape the heartbreak that had befallen them. When they were able to finally open up to each other and confront the issue at hand, both realized that they – each – blamed themselves for what had happened. Healing from such a tragic loss wasn’t easy but… as a family… they had managed to get through it. Tears formed in his eyes as Tristan smiled at the thought of lying with Syren on the mat, holding her underneath the stars.

Angel Wolfe: Are ya just going to stand there all night or…

Angel looked to his brother, following Tristan’s gaze to the wrestling ring.

Angel Wolfe: You still miss it, don’t you…?

Tristan had never been the athlete that Syren was, wrestling had just been an outlet for him to inflict pain on others and not get arrested for it. He had a lot of demons back then but she was the one good thing to come out of his tenure in the HWA. Though his brother had misconstrued why he had longingly looked upon the ring, he did have to admit… the rush of performing in front of a live audience, the thrill of victory, it could be intoxicating.

Tristan Wolfe: Feels like a lifetime ago…

Angel Wolfe: You know she still misses it, right?

Tristan turned his head to look at Angel who had stuck his head back inside the tractor, returning to his engine repair. He knew the only reason he was out here was to make sure that his brother didn’t do anything to make things worse.

Tristan Wolfe: What makes ya say that?

Angel Wolfe: Oh come on man, you know as well as I that last year was hard on all of us… especially her.

2019, the year the Idolatrous had resurfaced with such ferociousness that the whole world had been put on notice with their terrorist attacks. The Exiles Task Force ended up bringing Tristan and Angel back within the fold, due to their previous experience. To his surprise, it was Syren that ended up talking him into return to action, seeing the worldwide threat that the Idolatrous posed. She had selflessly released him to face off against this former enemy, knowing that he couldn’t promise a safe return. Left to her own devices, Syren began vigorously training once again… the physical exercise the only thing that seemed to keep her mind off what Tristan was going through. She even had a few amateur wrestlers come to the ranch so she could spar with them, getting a taste for the competitive side of things once again. Even after Tristan returned unharmed, she maintained a regular schedule within the squared circle.

Tristan Wolfe: Ye think she wants to go… back?

Angel Wolfe: She’s your wife, Tristan… I’m just telling you what I’ve seen with mine own eyes.

Angel paused again, looking up from under the hood of the tractor as Tristan turned from his brother to look at the wrestling ring once more, admitting to himself that Syren did seem happier after engaging in activities within those ropes – even if it wasn’t the kind that he preferred.

Angel Wolfe: Would it really be so bad if she did? Niahm’s going to be in school in the fall, you’ll be busy with your policing… maybe she just wants something for herself, you know?

Before Tristan could respond, the sound of tires on gravel could be heard as the two brothers turned to see a long black limousine pulling up into view. Angel shot his brother a sideways glance as he began to wipe his hands free of the oil and grease.

Angel Wolfe: Expecting company…?

Tristan Wolfe: (Shaking his head) Do me a favor, go check on Niahm and Adlynn… they’re in their favorite spot.

Angel nodded his head and made his way towards the corn fields as Tristan approach the vehicle. Syren, too, had heard the car pull up as she stood in the doorway, looking out at this strange occurrence. The back door opened and a middle-eastern man emerged, wearing an expensive ivory suit. He offered his hand into the car and pulled out a slender and attractive woman of the same race, dressed as extravagantly as the man before her – wearing a pink floral print dress that stopped short just above her knees. Syren stepped out onto the porch as Tristan moved to put himself between the visitors and his wife.

Jared Sengir: Isn’t this a quaint little spot, my dear? I see such great potential in it…

The man pointed over to a field that was left barren for the purposes of letting the horses and kids roam freely.

Jared Sengir: … we could plant more crops over there. Or even have that be a grazing area for the cows…

Scarlett Rayne Sengir: Who cares about that, I’m only here to see the horses.

The two seemed oblivious to their presence, discussing things as if this was their property.

Tristan Wolfe: (clearing his throat) Can I help ya two with something?

The pair turned and acknowledged that Tristan and Syren did, in fact, exist.

Jared Sengir: (laughing) Apologies, we’ve had a long ride and were just so eager to see this lustrous piece of land. My name is Jared Sengir, and this lovely woman beside me is…

Scarlett Rayne Sengir: (interjecting) I’m Scarlett Rayne Sengir, but my friends just call me “Scar”. Play your cards right, and I may just count you among them.

Scarlett winked at Tristan, getting Syren’s blood boiling.

Syren: This is private property; care to explain what you’re doing here?

The two looked at each other, perplexed, as if they knew something that Tristan and Syren didn’t.

Jared Sengir: This is very awkward, were you not informed…?

Tristan Wolfe: Informed of what?

Scarlett Rayne Sengir: Why… that we had purchased the property. Though, I must say… had I known what kind of view this place had, I would’ve paid double.

Syren had all but enough of Scarlett “eye-fucking” her husband as she moved to show her some true southern hospitality, but Tristan was able to reach out and stop his wife in her tracks. She turned her vengeful gaze onto her husband but Tristan simply gave her a little smile, trying to calm her down.

Tristan Wolfe: (turning back to the couple) There must be some mistake, our family has owned this property for years and we never put it up for sale…

Jared Sengir: See for yourself…

Jared reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper and cautiously approaching Tristan, handing it to him. Tristan and Syren looked over the documentation, not understanding just what was happening. According to the paper, the bank had foreclosed on their property and sold it off to the highest bidder, in this case… the Sengir family.

Syren: Tristan, this doesn’t make sense… I never received any notice…

Tristan looked up at the Sengir’s, both smiling back at them with devilish grins.

Tristan Wolfe: What is this… what do you two want?

Scarlett Rayne Sengir: Why my dear… (licking her lips)… I want what I paid for.

As Syren fantasized about all the ways she would hurt Scarlett, Tristan crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it at the feet of Jared.

Jared Sengir: How barbaric… you know that was just a copy, right? All the actual legal documents are back with our company…

Tristan Wolfe: (Interrupting) Enough games, there’s obviously something that you want from us… (pointing to Scarlett)… and before she implies any further insinuation, I feel like it’s only fair that I let you know that I am a Texas Ranger, I do own a gun, and I will shoot you.

Scarlett Rayne Sengir: Did you hear that my love? A man of the law… (teasing)… I bet you get good mileage out of those handcuffs…

Syren was all but ready to launch herself at Scarlett as it took all of Tristan to restrain her, wrapping his arms around her and holding his wife close to his body. Scarlett and Jared simply laughed at this display, pleased with their efforts to get a rise out of the couple.

Jared Sengir: Now, now… we can be civil here. Despite my wife’s flirtatious nature, we actually do have a proposal for the two of you, one that will relinquish this deed back into your very deserving hands.

This seemed, for the moment, to calm Syren down as she stopped thrashing about and warily looked over at Jared.

Jared Sengir: As amazing as it would be to lay claim to such a prestigious piece of land, I’m afraid we’re just not “ranchhands”. Therefore, we are more than willing to hand over the deed of the property, free of charge.

Syren: And what do you get out of this?

Scarlett Rayne Sengir: Us… nothing. Our boss, however, has two less complications to deal with.

Tristan and Syren exchanged glances, unsure what this was all about.

Tristan Wolfe: And just who is this mysterious benefactor…?

Jared Sengir: That doesn’t matter, all that matters is that it’ll take us at least a few weeks to clear up this whole “foreclosure” mess, so we just ask that the two of you sit tight for the time being.

Syren: You want us… to do nothing?

Scarlett Rayne Segnir: Oh my dear Syren, you should be accustomed to that… you’ve been doing nothing for years.

Syren had reached her breaking point, pulling free of Tristan’s grasp, and lashing forward at Scarlett. She was surprised it had taken her this long to get Syren to finally act, but was ready for the attack none-the-less. As Syren threw a punch, Scarlett stepped to the side, grabbing Syren’s wrist with one hand and the back of her head with the other. She forced Syren up against the limousine, bending her arm backwards, and kicking her leg out from under her so that she had no leverage to fight back. Tristan rushed forward to help his wife but was caught off-guard when Jared delivered a stiff kick to his gut, doubling him over. Leaping into the air, Jared spun through the air, dragging the heel of his posh shoe across the jaw of Tristan, flipping him onto the ground. As Tristan tried to shake off the blow to his head, blood dripping from a cut on his lip, Jared turned to his wife, signaling with his head to release Syren. Scarlett pouted but did as was instructed, forcefully throwing Syren backwards onto the ground, falling beside her wounded husband.

Jared Segnir: I really had hoped we could have resolved this without violence…

Scarlett Rayne Segnir: (interrupting) Not me, I thought that was fun. We should do it again, sometime.

Jared shot his wife a glance that told her to hold her tongue as Syren looked over to see how Tristan was recovering. The two could probably take another run at them, this time more prepared… or they could call for help from Angel, Skye and/or Raenia. All these options would’ve resulted in an ass-kicking for the Segnir’s… but would still not fix the issue of the axe they held over their head in regards to their family home.

Jared Segnir: I am truly sorry that it came to this. Like I said, we’re not unreasonable. Just hang tight, let us take care of things on our end, and all will go back to the way things were.

Syren: (infuriated) Why are you doing this!?

Scarlett Rayne Segnir: Because, sweetie… we can.

Scarlett blew Tristan a kiss and, laughing to herself, accompanied her husband back inside the limousine. Moments later, the car was pulling away from the ranch, leaving a trail of dust in its wake as Tristan and Syren recovered.

Syren: What the hell was that!? This is our home Tristan… (fighting back tears)… OUR home!

Tristan wrapped his arms around his wife, watching as the Sengir family disappeared out of sight.

Opening his eyes, Tommy realized he was in the stereotypical interrogation room, and he was bound to a chair. Across from him was a young man in his mid 20s with brown hair and a beard, dressed in a black sweatshirt. The circulation was cut off to Tommy’s wrists, and the corners in the room were dark. Becoming more and more aware, Tommy felt a presence behind him. Tommy focused on the man in front of him. Something was…familiar.

“Who are you…why have you been following me?” The guy across the table smiled and put his feet on the table.

“My name isn’t important. Why are you here?”

Tommy realized he was out of his element. He was tired, his head was pounding, he was all the way across the country with no backup, and an angry digestive system thanks to all of the gas station food. The sweat started to pour down Tommy’s face.

“Look…I was told to come here by Cloud to find Damien Michaels. I drove all the way from Annapolis. I need to see The Chosen One. He’s got unfinished business with the HWA. His wife…Katie…I think she died in the house explosion in Annapolis. I think Cloud’s gone too.”

The presence behind Tommy materialized into his field of vision. Tommy squinted and sized up the man. Right height…but his hair was brown and he was sporting a full beard. The man smiled, still partially obscured by the shadows.

“Mr. Romeo…you shouldn’t believe everything you see on TV. You are also quite possibly the worst detective I’ve ever seen.”

The man pulled up a seat next to the younger man, and leaned forward into the light.

“Damien?” The older man smiled. “No one has called me that in years, Romeo.”

It hit Romeo who the younger man was.

“You must be…TJ? Damien and Katie’s son?”

It was the younger man’s turn to smile now.

“Dad, I guess he knows too much now.”

Damien laughed, and said “He does. But I guess it’s time to let him in on what we know and see where this goes.”

Damien walked over to Romeo and undid his wrist bindings. Rubbing his wrists, Romeo breathed a sigh of relief looked up at TCO.

“I have a ton of questions, and we need to figure out how to fight off Rayne.” The smile left TCO’s face, and a darkness, a seriousness washed over it.

“Romeo, we’re going to head back to my house in the mountains. You need some sleep, some good food, and unfortunately some serious expectation adjustment. You have no idea how deep you are into something that is far bigger than any of us.”

Romeo and TCO sat on his porch, looking over the mountains with Utah Lake in the distance.

It was quiet, peaceful. Tommy could sense why TCO gravitated to this place. Cigar smoke billowed into the night time air as TCO contemplated something. The ride over was interesting – Tommy was loaded into a beatup Surburban with tinted windows from Tactical Fabrication, and the driver doubled back and took several exits on and off the interstate before finally arriving at the mountain compound. Tommy thought he saw evidence of security, but couldn’t be sure.

“OK Romeo, the floor is yours. What do you want to know?”

“Well sir Im very clearly out of my element any kind of insight or advice would be appreciated. I had no idea anywhere in the world could be this serene.”

“No need to call me sir, Romeo. I’m just a guy. This place is pretty great...it took a lot to move me from the East Coast. Can you tell me how you got involved in this whole thing?”

Tommy digs in his pocket pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter removing a cigarette from the pack lighting it and placing the pack down on the table.” I was brought up to not only use sir to address your elders but also as a sign of respect” He takes a drag of his cigarette and continues to talk as he exhales “ I’m a wrestler that’s how I got involved in this, I was only with the HWA for a short period of time but the High Society and Eric Rayne played apart in the demise of my Fed as well. I won’t let the same fate befall the HWA.”

TCO nods his head and puffs the cigar. “The fall of the HWA, Eric Rayne, and High Society. You couldn’t have written a better story.”

Leaning back, he stares into the night sky. “Ron and I...we built that place from the ground up. I never intended to wrestle again - the announcer and executive jobs were fun. It was great to build something again. But you know...the ring, the rush, the fans still called out and brought me back.”

TCO blows out a smoke ring. “But the relationships with people who became like my brothers. Sett, Cloud, Ron, the rivalries with people like Danny Starr, Hollywood D...that was living.” TCO looks over to Romeo.

“So how did you know to look for me in Annapolis? Why did you show up at my house?”

“All I had to go on was your physical address from the HWA payroll files. Being from South Jersey after meeting with Evan Blane first, I then visited Flames in Baltimore but she wasn’t there. Her apartment was full of Information about the former wrestlers of the HWA. That’s where I got your info. So I show up at your house and Flames is waiting for me she beats my ass sets your house on fire and the next thing I know I’m laying on the front lawn.”

There’s a long silence as TCO looks out into the mountains.

“Rayne’s been looking for me for a long time. He knew I wasn’t in Annapolis. I haven’t been there in years. He’s been trying to draw me out, hoping I’d slip up and show up somewhere in a fit of rage.”

“So what your saying is that your house was gonna burn wether I showed up or not, listen man HWA stars are dying, but I’m sure you knew that already. We’ve got a shot to put a stop to all of this.”

TCO nodded as Romeo started to answer, but shook his head at Romeo’s desire to take on Rayne.

“I admire your resolve, Tommy, but I don’t think you understand Eric Rayne and what’s he’s capable of. Do you know any of my background? What I was doing before the HWA and what I’ve been doing since it closed down?”

“I have no idea of your history. What I do know is that he is a bastard and he needs to be stopped.” Tommy takes a drag of his cigarette and looks out towards the mountains. “I’m not the only one gathering people Kevin Conner is leading the charge as well.

TCO laughed loudly at the mention of Kevin Conner.

“Kevin Conner...my God, there’s someone I haven’t thought about in years. What a story he was, thinking back about his history. He’s leading the charge against Rayne, eh?”

TCO shakes his head again.

“I’m a spook, Romeo. I was a CIA operative in my 20’s. Since I got out of the HWA, I’ve been back in the business as a contractor. Tactical Fabrication is a CIA front company with some legitimate DOD parts fabrication work to make the books work.”

TCO looked down at his boots and relit his cigar, puffing a bit as he gathered his thoughts.

“I don’t know what Rayne’s ultimate plan is. He’s like a stereotypical Bond villain running an organization like Hydra. He’s had this weird sort of obsession with the HWA and wrestling companies that I’ve never understood. I do know that whatever his ultimate plan is, it involved luring a bunch of HWA superstars back into the spotlight. The house explosion in Annapolis was he latest attempt at luring me out. It’s not the first. I’ve been able to stay one step ahead and under the radar thanks to my own connections...but believe me when I say you want nothing to do with him. We’re talking international drug syndicates, religious zealot funding, anything he can get into to sow dissension and chaos into the world.”

TCO looks right at Romeo.

“You need to keep your head down and get out of the game. I’ve got connections and I can get you away from all this mess. No one will know where...or who you are.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. How about this,you use your resources to assist me in my search for everyone and I’ll leave you alone in your mountains to continue hiding from Rayne like a coward. I can’t believe you would just tuck and run after you helped build this company. This is your chance to take it back, to win against Rayne.”

“Look, I’m gonna do you a favor and blow by the fact you’re calling me a coward in my own home. You don’t understand what Rayne is capable of. We’re talking Saddam Hussein levels of depravity, you need to understand what you’re fucking with before you run off playing goddamn Inspector Gadget.”

TCO stands up and looks at Romeo, motioning to the horizon.

“The HWA is DEAD. It died YEARS ago. That’s fucking Ron Royalty’s fault, no one else! The people are what’s left, and if you continue down this path you’re going to get them all killed. Don’t try to be the fucking hero, you’re not going to match Rayne, my resources or not.”

Romeo looks at TCO, shocked.

“I’d have expected more from someone who just lost their wife!”

TCO shakes his head again.

“See, this is where you’re misinformed and why you need to get out of this. Rayne is running a damn conspiracy. Katie is my ex wife, and she’s not dead. It was all a show. Rayne’s reach is through the media and down to the local enforcement. Rayne’s been trying to get me outed because and figured if he spread some false news story about her being dead and the house being blown up would draw me out in a fit of rage. You. Are. Being. PLAYED!”

“Whatever you say Chosen One. If you won’t come to the event do you at least know where I can locate any of the former HWA stars?

“So you’re dead set on following this through?”

“The event is happening it’s just a matter of you being there or not. You will not discourage me.” Tommy Scoffs

“Ah bullshit Romeo, I’m not trying to discourage you, I’m trying to help keep your ass alive.”

TCO pulls out his phone and sends a text.

“Look, I’m going to do what I can to help you. We’re going to get you a crash course in keeping a low profile and a new identity, new ride, some hardware, and a new bank account to try and hide you from Rayne as long as possible.”

“I’ve kept tabs on Sett. I haven’t spoken to him since the HWA folded, and he probably doesn’t know I know where he is. There’s been some vigilante shit happening in Mexico around a gang called the ‘Black Skulls’.

Sett’s been running a group of guys taking down some other drug organizations. Aside from Cloud, Sett is the only other former HWA superstar I’ve kept tabs on. Look, I really wish I would could help you. I admire what you’re trying to do, but I’m not going to sacrifice my life and put my family on the line for the HWA. And not certainly for Ron Royalty.”

“I don’t expect anyone to do get involved for any reasons but their own. Would you mind doing my one more favor?” Tommy pulls out his phone and navigates to a picture then slides his phone across the table.

TCO stares at Romeo for moment and laughs.

“You’re not real big on subtlety, are you?”

After Romeo left on his way to find Sett, Thomas played the conversation back in his head. It was late – maybe 2:00 am – and his head hurt. His heart hurt. Hollywood D, Morgoth…dead. Rayne bearing down on his objectives. And yet, here he was in his office…doing nothing. Pathetic.

Romeo was wrong – he wasn’t equipped to handle this adventure. But he was right…he had to do it. It needed to be done. Thomas couldn’t bring himself to play Rayne’s games. After all, this wasn’t his fault. It was fucking Ron Royalty’s. Where was he during all of this mess?

Thomas knew that answer though, and it didn’t help move him one way or the other. He flexed the fingers on his right hand and wondered if he still had it. Could he do one more mission? One more match?

His watch vibrated on his wrist and he looked down. He had a text from Cloud…looks like he was in the parking lot. Perfect timing. Maybe the two of them could make some sense of this. Thomas smiled. One more run with Cloud could be fun. Tha Aftermath back together? Maybe he could even beat Romeo to Texas and pick up Sett.

No family, no worries, no responsibilities. Just vengeance, a fight against a vile evil, and a legacy to be remembered by and proud of. A proper death, a Spartan death.

As Thomas walked out of the building, he saw a figure standing by his truck. He could make out the blonde spikey hair and he relaxed.

“Cloud! Buddy, I was just thinking…”

He wasn’t sure what it was, but something made the hair on his neck stand up. He slid his hand to his Kimber and prepped his weapon.

“Cloud?”

As he got closer, he saw it. The thin wire from the light. It was wrapped around Cloud, holding him up. As Thomas cleared the perimeter, he got a look at his friend’s face.

Cloud had been badly, badly beaten. His body was mangled. He was missing fingers, his leg was bent at a completely awkward angle. Thomas checked for a pulse knowing he wasn’t going to find one. As his hand came down, he brushed against something on Cloud’s waist. He knew what that touch was. He looked, and he saw a semi charred HWA Championship title belt around his waist.

It was Damien’s. Damien’s first HWA title. Cloud had rescued it to bring it back to his friend.

The tears, the anger, the rage, the sadness, the unrelenting feeling of not being enough, of being a coward, of being helpless, being a victim, all of this smacks Thomas Price, Damien Michaels, The Chosen One in waves of grief. Cloud was his friend, his responsibility, and a tie to that part of his life where he lived. The deep sobs of a brother lost fill the night.

He cut Cloud’s body down – knowing it could have been rigged but not caring – and held him. It was then Thomas’s phone started to ring.

It was Cloud’s caller ID.

Thomas answered the phone, but said nothing. He knew who was on the other line.

“Damien, Damien. He didn’t have to die. All you had to do was agree to join me. He could have been your enforcer. You could have been a team on my behalf, as part of High Society. Instead…instead you made a mockery of me. And you should know better.” Eric Rayne sighed audibly, as if he were disappointed and bored at the same time. “I’ve been nothing but fair to you, Damien. I made a simple offer, multiple times. I have a new offer for you, I’m going to give you a chance – fight for me. Fight against the HWA. Fight Ron Royalty in the main event of One Night Stand. Be the final nail in the coffin.”

The mention of Ron Royalty causes Thomas to lose control over his body, the grief washing over him in waves.

“Because Damien…I’m no longer content to let you live and be at peace with your decision to be a non-combatant in this war. The downfall of the HWA doesn’t have to be your story, Damien, but I can make your life mirror the slow, methodical, painful death the HWA is going to suffer. You cannot hide from me, surely I’ve proven that to you now. These years of peace you’ve celebrated – they’ve been a gift from me, Damien. I could have killed you, or that family of yours anytime I wanted, your façade of knowledge and insight into me be damned. Now it’s time for you to repay the debt to me. Join High Society, fight Ron Royalty, and finally bury the HWA.”

The hot Mexican sun beams down over the heat-baked stones of the Tonina Acropolis in Chiapas. Outside, a security guard shuffles his feet in the ticket booth, awaiting the tourists that appear ever so rarely, but knowing that, today, he would have no such distraction. His eyes shift to the makeshift parking lot nearby, and the vehicular occupants that sit within: A large, covered truck, flanked on either side by two Jeeps, and a single motorcycle. From there, the guard's gaze wanders to the area between, noting the Zapatistas patrolling on horseback around the perimeter just past his shack. Normally, these riders would be offering rides to and from the different sites of interest here in Tonina, but today they wear a much more serious affect than would please the odd tourist or traveler.

These men were on lookout.

The guard isn't necessarily sure for what, exactly, but he's pretty damn sure it has something to do with the owners of the vehicles in the lot. Mostly gringos with dour expressions, which, in the guard's own estimation, is probably the first sign of trouble. But they paid for their entry and then some, enough to make him not bring up the fact that most of them were armed to the teeth. That, of course, being the second sign.

The guard sighs, slumps back in his chair, and reaches for his book.

Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone, and the only one who seeks out another. His nature - if that word can be used in reference to man, who has 'invented' himself by saying 'no' to nature - consists of his longing to realize himself in another. Man is nostalgic and in search for communion. Therefore, when he is aware of himself he is aware of his lack of another, that is, of his solitude.

- Octavio Paz

Deep beneath the tourist entrance of the Acropolis, a team of what could only be described as soldiers creeps along the labyrinthine passages, illuminated only by the dull glow of the chemical lights hanging off their vests.

"This sucks," a voice remarks, breaking the silence of the march. "We have flashlights, you know!"

"Cool it, Pyre," another speaks up. "Would you rather give our position away with your flashlight shine, or your big mouth?"

"Also, these ruins are so rarely explored this far down, we have no idea what direct exposure to light of that level would do down here," yet another adds helpfully.

"Shut up, Railjack," both voices proclaim simultaneously in response.

"Man, fuck you guys." There's a note of hurt in Railjack's tone.

"All of you need to bring it down," the man in front barks quietly. "If the Sin Cal are down here, and I trust Railjack's intel that they are, they're gonna outnumber us at least two to one. So zip it and let's use what we've got to our advantage."

"And what is that, Boss?"

"Chaos, obviously."

A guttural growl is elicited from one of the previously-silent men in response, which brings a short laugh to the rest of the group. It is quickly quieted, however, as the gravity of the situation begins to settle back in.

"Okay," one whispers. "Well how much farther?"

"Shouldn't be far," Railjack responds, just as quietly. "If my radar mapping is correct, we have a left up ahead, and then it opens out into what I believe was a ritual center. Probably where they did all the sacrifi-"

"Jesus, Sam, don't even start with that."

"It's interesting! These walls could be stained with blood from whole millenia ag-"

Both men are cut off by the leader's fist raising into the air, giving the silent 'stop' signal. The men do so, on a dime, pressing into the wall nearby. The boss registers some new hand signals, and Railjack reaches into his pack, unearths and unfolds a small drone. The drone, a walking model, is guided by a wrist-mounted display as it takes the aforementioned left turn and heads into the chamber. Its mounted camera sends a feed directly to Railjack's display, tinged in the green of night-vision. It enters the room and quickly sticks to the edges, as the center of the room proves detrimental to the night-vision rather quickly due to the light-stands erected there, illuminating the chamber's center in a small halo of light.

Under the illumination, some men work with stacks boxes, moving racks of vials into them and sealing them shut before pushing them off to the side. They speak to each other in hushed Spanish, interspersed with the odd English word here and there. The conversation sounds simple enough, likely logistic in nature, up until one worker perks up and peers into the darkness surrounding the lanterns.

"¿Eso es una araña?"

"No es posible, puto!"

"No, araña grande de allí!"

"Shit," the boss hisses, and Railjack, at the back of the stack, moves into action. Swapping to manual control, he urges the many-legged drone directly into the center of the room at top speed and it complies. The machine skitters into sight, sprinting past the talking men and into the darkness of the far side of the chamber.

There are a couple shouts of fear and surprise, followed by the sounds of men grabbing and arming their rifles.

Upon another command from the boss, the man behind him steps around from behind the corner, levels his own rifle, and takes his shots. The whump of silenced rifle fire elicits from his flash-suppressed muzzle, once, twice, three, four times. One after the other, the hanging lights shatter into sparking explosions, and one after the other, twelve laser sights hum to life inside the room and begin to sweep the chamber.

Two to one. Just like the Boss said.

"Move!" he hisses, and the previous quiet erupts into the din of combat. Muzzle flashes provide illumination for split seconds at a time, and the shouts and cries of injured fighters punctuate the staccato song of gunfire. The sights and sounds continue but a short while, and after only around half a minute, the chamber becomes shrouded and silenced once more.

The darkness is greeted with a new light, this time lit by a member of the squad. The handheld lantern proves much brighter than the prior chemical lighting, casting a dim clarity around it and revealing the last man standing in the way of the men's mission.

This man, eyes wide, stares at the invaders, his fingers flexing rapidly, his other hand holding an injection gun, already loaded with one of the vials they were previously carting into the boxes.

"Don't let him-!" a voice calls out, but it's too late. The injector stabs into his forearm and he depresses the plunger with a heavy shudder.

"Shit! No!"

"Fuck fuck fuck fu-"

"Fall back." The Boss's tone is loud, commanding. "Cover the exits and watch for reinforcements. I'll take care of this." He steps forward, staring at the man with the injector, and drops his rifle to the ground with a clatter. In stark contrast to the hunched posture he used to creep through the labyrinth, he now stands straight up, towering over the other man, as well as most of his own compatriots.

The other man continues to shudder, even more violently than before, gripping himself in a tight hug. When he looks back up, his eyes fixate on the Boss, a deep blood red leaking into his pupils. He snarls, his teeth looking just a little sharper than they're supposed to be. A final, violent shudder rips through his body as he bends over backwards, feeling his clothes strain against the sudden growth of musculature, ripping in the weaker places. A feral roar erupts from his chest as he locks in on the Boss once again, throwing himself towards him in a frenzy.

The Boss, however, is ready. A heavy boot lifts up and slams into the face of the oncoming beast of a man. With it, a memory flashes in the Boss's head.
And Sett takes down Gravedigger with the Big Boot! I don't think he even saw that coming, Keith!

The man scrambles along the ground, rolling back up to his feet behind the Boss and leaping at his exposed back. Quicker than one might expect from such a big man, the Boss spins on his heel, his hand thrusting out, his fingers seeking the windpipe of his assailant and driving into it. The Boss doesn't stop there, and follows up with his other hand aiming for the same location, this time gripping the beast's throat and shoving him backwards, taking four heavy steps to slam the still-changing man into the wall behind him.

The bestial man growls at the Boss, his hands flexing and swiping at the Boss's midsection. Bright, burning pain flares up as the Boss feels the formerly-fingertips claw into his gear, digging right through the padding and tearing through his flesh with the claws it now bore. Sensing the Boss's pain, it follows up with a heavy right hook over the Boss's gripping hand, his newfound strength lending to what should be a jaw-shattering blow. The Boss's head reels back from the punch, but stops short of faltering or losing his grip. Instead, he holds his head to the side for a moment, and tightens his grip.

Just look at that display of durability from the big man! Sett proves once again that he is one of the most indomitable forces of the HWA!

He's a tough son of a bitch for sure, Keith. Is he setting up for what I think he's setting up?

The Boss pulls the man away from the wall by the throat before reversing course, thrusting him right back into the same wall once again. This time, though, instead of holding him there, he pulls him back one last time, this time hefting the still-bulking man into the air with nothing but the grip around his throat. A bestial gasp escapes from the captured man's throat as he leaves his feet and is slammed into the ground as the Boss drops to a knee, putting all of the weight and force he can into the attack.

You're damn right, Trent! It's the South Texas Deathride! I think this one's just about over!

The Boss stands up, brushing off his hands and turning to face his comrades. "Alright, now that that's-"

The monster rises from the ground, face fully contorted into something less than human. He grabs Sett from behind and chomps into his clavicle, biting down on the taller man with sudden speed and fury.

"Sett!" one of them shouts, but the Boss is already moving. Reaching up over his shoulder, he throws his own upper body forward as he grips the beast by his shaggy hair, flipping him over and onto his back. The Boss follows up by dropping down onto him, laying lefts and rights into the thing's face with reckless abandon.

The sheer display of brutality here really proves it, Keith. Sett is a goddamn force of nature in this ring!

Only when the beast stops reacting to being hit in the face does the Boss return to his feet.

"Alright," he begins again, more hesitantly this time. He spares another glance down at the unmoving opponent below him. "Now… that…" another glance, "that's…"

Sure enough, there's another sudden shriek of defiance as the beast scrambles to his feet again. This time, however, the Boss is more than ready, and delivers a swift kick in the gut, doubling the monster over.

Gravedigger's a brick wall in his own right, Trent, but I don't think this is gonna go his way anyway!

Positioning the beast between his legs, Sett hurls the monster up into the air, lifting him even higher still by extending his arms, and then slams him down, dropping to a seat himself as he does so, throwing as much of his own weight into the move as he can.

THE JOURNEY! I think you may just be right! So much for that streak, eh Keith?

The beast's head whips back on impact, cracking into the hard stone beneath. Unlike a wrestling ring, the unforgiving stone provides no cushion, instead splitting the head open at the back. Pale, viscous blood begins to pour forth, and the monster moves no more.
There is a long period of silence from the onlooking squad, until the one known as Pyre breaks it.

"What a fuckin' show-off."

Modern man likes to pretend that his thinking is wide-awake. But this wide-awake thinking has led us into the mazes of a nightmare in which the torture chambers are endlessly repeated in the mirrors of reason.

- Octavio Paz

Looking rough and exhausted, Tommy stumbles into the small Mexican town. He was foolish for thinking a bus ride through a Spanish speaking country would get him where he needed to go. He was foolish for coming into the country without knowing anything of Spanish at all,other than to ask how to locate a library.

The locals didn’t have time to waste on his constant pestering about a building full of books. An old English speaking white man finally gets him pointed in the right direction. He found it funny that just saying the name Sett, put him right back on track. A 15 mile walk later and Tommy was finally there.

He approaches a local man and smiles.“Sett?” Romeo asked. The mans face turned to a scowl and suddenly a black sack was slipped over Romeos head from behind. A thud to the back of his head and darkness.

Upon waking Tommy finds his hands and feet restrained the black sack still preventing his ability to see.

“Hello!?” He yells.

From behind him a door opens and three men walk in. He could tell by counting the different voices as they approached. The sack is quickly ripped from Romeos head and he is blinded by the light of the room. Now fully aware of the pounding headache and giant lump on the back of his head.

Just as Tommy's vision starts to adjust to the light, he suddenly finds himself awash in darkness once more. It takes far shorter to adjust to this change, but the revelation is no less concerning for it.

Towering over Tommy's seated form is a giant of a man, just an inch or two shy of seven feet. He regards his captive for a moment, before leaning in to put his face closer to Romeo's. The only-just-fading scent of a cigarette can be picked up on his breath as he cracks a grin and speaks.

"So I guess the only question I really feel like I gotta ask you, son..."

As the big man shifts downward, the light shines down over his shoulder and causes Tommy to catch it glint off of a crowbar, already speckled with red.

"Did you just get lost out here, or are we about to have trouble?"

The crowbar thuds into the big man's gloved hand as if to punctuate the question further.

“Now now sir you don’t have to get all Fifty shades of grey on me. I know I have a reputation and all but I will say I’ve never received this kind of greeting before.” Tommy flinches instinctively. “My safe word is chilli cheese dog.”

The response actually seems to rattle the big man a little, as his jaw hangs open for just long enough to be perceptible.

"I, you..."

Sett turns around suddenly and takes a few steps away from Tommy, pausing and lowering his head to think.

"Well now I'm hungry."

He whips around and points the crowbar at Tommy from a now (relatively) safe distance.

"Who the hell are you? You're not with Sin Cal, I know."

He tilts his head a bit and can't help but grin. "They don't make me laugh before I beat their heads in."

“My name is Tommy Romeo I wrestled in the HWA for a short period of time.” Tommy shakes his head as if to clear it.” Ive been looking for you.”

“Since I clearly am not a threat would you uh mind cutting me loose?”

"HWA? Well hell, man, why didn't you-"

Sett takes a step forward before a hand crosses his chest. He glances over to see one of the other men in the room give him a look.

"Hold up, 'Sett,'" the man says, tossing just a little extra pepper on the code-name. "How do we know he's telling the truth?"

"Easy, Jake," Sett responds, lifting the crowbar between his chest and Jake's arm to move it away. "If he acts up, just shoot him."

Sett glances back towards Tommy. "That okay with you, Romeo?" As he asks, he's already heading around the back to untie him.

Tommy sees the man called Jake leveling an M4 carbine at him as he shows his hands. The lack of any immediate attempt at funny business causes the grip on the gun to relax from 'dead to rights' to somewhere closer to 'fuck around and find out.'

At his last remark, Sett snorts and shakes his head. "What a bunch of inconsiderate assholes, huh?" He saunters back in front of Romeo as he asks, the crowbar resting on one shoulder as he does.

"You came a real long way out lookin' for me, Mr. Romeo," Sett continues, his voice getting serious. "I hope you're starting to get a clearer picture as to how and why that might make a guy like me somewhat nervous."

His eyes glance to Jake with the gun, and his grip on the crowbar tightens a bit as well. "What does a random relative stranger from my past need to wander all the way out into my, well, let's call it unconventional present, just to talk to me about?"

“Act like the reason I’m here doesn’t already know your here.”

Romeo smiles at the both of them.

"If your gonna keep that thing pointed at me you care if I smoke in here?"

Tommy goes to look around but decides it best to look at as little as possible not quite sure of what he had stumbled into. Damien was right Tommy was in way over his head. He takes a deep breath to settle his nerves.

“Eric Rayne is out to get everyone. Simple as that he issued an invitation to come and fight one more time. Then shortly after HWA stars started to die mysteriously.”

Tommy sees fairly little of note in his cursory glance, picking up the idea that the room he was in was pretty well specifically for conversations like this. The scrubbed-over pink spots might lead him to believe that most of them aren't typically as genial, however.

As he goes for a cigarette, Sett leans in and offers the light. Jake tenses again, but the Zippo sparks Tommy's cig with no issue.

"Rayne?" Sett responds with incredulity. "THAT rich bastard? I don't understand. I thought he'd washed his hands of the whole thing already, years ago. And now people are... dying?"

He scrunches his face behind his sunglasses. "Where did all this come from?"

Tommy pauses for a minute and then pulls his phone from his pocket. Unlocks it and brings up stream of a news station covering the FBI press conference.

“Here man check it out Morgoth, Hollywood D, Unknown Ninja and Bigg Money. All worm food, I was attacked at TCOs house the night it burned by Flames. That means we all can’t be trusted, I don’t.

Tommy is interrupted by the breaking news alert on his phone. Another suspicious death. This time Fudge....

As he reads off the names, Sett gets eerily quiet. Even the people he didn't work with much had still been coworkers, colleagues, part of a fucked up family that piledrives each other.

But Morgoth...

Sett shakes it off and watches the alert on Fudge. His eyes widen. Hearing about it after the fact was different than seeing the news breaking in real time.

"Dios mio," Sett mutters under his breath, slipping into the language of his current home for a moment unknowingly.

"This is... unreal," he remarks, finally, after an extended silence. "How could... or even, why would-"

Sett's train of thought is interrupted by something Tommy said earlier coming back to the forefront.

"You said Damien's house was burned down. Did he make it out alright?"

“Damien is fine, he’s the one that told me how I could look for you. He hasn’t been there in years. The news said Katie died in the fire, but I can almost guarantee it was flames they found not Katie. At least if Cloud had anything to do with it. He pulled me out of the house after that bitch kicked me in the face.”

Tommy growls and takes a long drag of his cigarette.

“Cloud told me I could find TCO in Utah and I didn’t get a much better reception from him and his son. Everyone just wants to lick my ass man.”

Sett is very silent as he takes it all in. The layers of the tale fall upon his ears, the old names bringing up old memories he hasn't thought to dredge up in ages. TCO, Katie, and Cloud, fellow stablemates and good friends all. While it sounded like they were safe, Sett cannot help but frown. The situation was growing more dire by the second, and Flames being implicated in the arson leaves yet another turn in an already twisty tale. The frown slowly turns to pursed lips as Sett pores over what he's been told.

"Well, you do just have one of those faces," he concludes, glancing at Romeo over his sunglasses.

"So what does this all mean? Obviously we're not going to do this event if he's killing our people, right? Who do we have working on this?"

“That’s not the first time I’ve been told I have a punchable face either.”

Tommy grins, trying to make light of the heavy shit he had just dropped on Setts shoulders.

“Of course were going to do the event this is our chance for all of this to end. The stakes of the event is the HWA itself! I’m working on it! Mr HWA himself Kevin Conner is working on it. I’m here to recruit you Sett.”

Sett cocks his head and looks at Tommy, taking a moment to fish out a cigarette of his own.

"How do we know he's not just getting everyone rounded up in one place to drop a bomb on the whole venue?"

His eyebrows raise in question as he lights the unfiltered end.

“You really think he can just blow up the Staples Center and get away with it?” Tommy says raising his eyebrows back at Sett in response.

"Snipers, then. In the upper decks. Doesn't matter how you do it, once it's done. And, to be clear, we don't even know why it's being done in the first place, either?"

“Does the motive matter? It’s all over the internet. If something happens at the event it would be clear who the responsible party is.” Tommy shrugs his shoulders.”He’s not going to execute us on TV Sett.”

Sett concedes the point with a shrug of one shoulder, the other holding the crowbar still from when he went for a cigarette.

"Maybe, maybe not. It would certainly be a hell of a risk. Still can't shake the feeling that there's more to this, though."

“You May very well be right brother.”

Tommy raises his hands slowly and rises from his chair walking over to the table to put his smoke out in the ashtray.

“But aren’t you taking risks with your life down here anyway? What is six to one, is half dozen to another. So why don’t you join the fight? I’m sure everyone who does make it will be more than glad to see you fighting on our side.”

Jake's grip tightens on the M4 as Tommy stands up, but Sett waves a hand in his direction. Even so, Sett's own grip settles on the crowbar again, flipping it out of his armpit and back over his shoulder comfortably. As Tommy speaks, he crosses to a shuttered window, as if looking out of it.

"Well, I'm not sure it's -exactly- the same," he says, considering the differences in what he's doing and what is being proposed to him.

"But this would be a hell of a lot more personal."

He turns to face Tommy again, leaning against the wall and window shutter. "What's the play, exactly? Just show up to the card and beat some ass, or what?"

“Yeah that’s about as far as I’ve gotten. Kevin may have more of a plan in place but I was charged with bringing you in. You were number 2 on the list of big names. Syren is in Texas that’s where I’m headed next. I uh could use a lift back to my truck and some gas though. I uh had a little trouble with exchanging my dollars for pesos.”

Now standing at the table Tommy looks over to Sett at the window.

“I’ve gotta go get Ron, Sawyer, Cass and Michael and last but not least Grimjack after that. Why don’t you bring that crowbar to Cali and use it to cripple a bitch.”

Sett looks down at him over his sunglasses once more. He's quiet for a bit as he considers his options. His gaze turns to Jake, who returns the look disapprovingly. Sett crosses the room to speak to him.

The two speak in hushed tones for a few moments. Tommy can only make out so much of what's being said.

"...know about this, big man, I don't..."

"...sure I do either, but..."

"...what, you're just gonna go? ...middle of everything?"

"... and you know it, Anthony. We've stomped Sin Cals... the run now."

"... when you absolutely cannot let up, man!"

"... what do we know about ...?"

"... three to four over the next month or two..."

"... Call in some ... maybe even the cartels."

"Really, Sett?!"

"Desperate times..."

"So you're gonna do this."

"Looks like I am."

"Then God help us all... particularly this Rayne guy."

Sett nods to Jake and moves from him past Tommy's left shoulder, knocking on the door with a heavy hand. A few moments later, it opens and another large men steps into the room. As broad as Sett is tall, he scans the room and glowers at everyone.

"He'll escort you back to your car and help you get set up to go back to the States," Sett says, giving the stout man a big thump on the shoulder. "He goes by Chaos."

Chaos' glower is directed at Tommy now as he grunts in his general direction.

"Really sweet guy, just doesn't say much."

Chaos' eyes narrow at Tommy as he fishes a bag out of his pocket.

"And, well..." Sett shrugs and looks at the bag. "It's protocol. No hard feelings?"

Solitude lies at the lowest depth of the human condition. Man is the only being who feels himself to be alone and the only one who is searching for the Other.
- Octavio Paz

With Romeo escorted out, Sett sits quietly in the storage building-slash-office that sits just outside of the Tonina ruins, next to the site museum. With actual tourism in the area relatively sparse, the proprietors had been more than happy to accept a modest monetary infusion to provide Sett and his squad with exclusive access to the place for their duration. Outside, Pyre and Railjack worked dutifully, utilizing a motorized pushcart to drag boxes out from deep within the ruins.

Once it got a bit darker, they would start moving out the bodies, as well.

"So the locals are good with everything?" the same man from before, the one who goes by Jake, breaks the silence.

"Yeah," Sett mutters, still lost in thought. "When they realized Sin Calavera had been active right under their noses, they were more than happy to know that they were being paid for their time AND having a problem dealt with all at once."

"I thought these Zapatistas were all cashless anarchists," Jake remarks dryly. Sett just smirks in response.

"Yeah well, world's still the world, and they still gotta live in it." Jake absorbs the thought for a moment, shrugging in acquiescence.

"I still can't believe there are so many forces jockeying around in the Black Skulls vacuum, even after all these years."

"Well you should, you're a big part of why that is."

"Okay, sure," Jake notes, "but you'd think there would be a point where people just realize it's a no-go zone."

Sett shakes his head ruefully. "Power is a provocative force. The Black Skulls held a lot more of it than I previously reckoned for. This juice they were moving, the things it can do to a person… they were selling super soldiers, Jake."

"You seemed to take one on easy enough. And you're just a regular guy."

"First off, I don't regular guys usually come in my size," Sett fires back with a snort. "More to the point, the process takes some time, depending on the genetic makeup of the user. And it doesn't always come in cleanly. With the right genetic profile, you just get… better. Faster, stronger, smarter. With the wrong one?

You get, well… you saw what you get. You've seen it before."

It wasn't the first time the squad had come across people who utilized the monster drug of the White Skulls. Since their dissolution, members of the Black Skulls had spread into the criminal underworld at large, taking the samples and plans of the monster maker they had squirrelled away for a rainy day and a double cross, and making their own marks in the underworld at large. After squaring away his business with the HWA, Sett had committed himself fully to the cause he took up over 15 years ago when he and Michael Diamond stormed the Black Skull facility and wrecked their main center of production. Recruiting some of his oldest allies as well as some newer faces, he and the gang had traveled around the continent, tracking down any traces of the monster drug they could find and eliminating any cell that had been hiding them.

Now, the only one that's left in any major capacity are the Sin Calavera, a splinter organization comprised of many of the Black Skull's highest ranking escapees. One thing that separates the Sin Cal from other organizations is their willingness to dip into the product, utilizing the transformed humans as shock troops in their efforts to take control of the drug trade routes around South and Central America.

"So… you're really gonna go do this HWA thing?" Jake remarks, after another long pause.

Sett shrugs a shoulder. "I don't see any other choice, really."

This brings Jake to a start, pushing off of the wall he was leaning on and stepping forward to confront his friend. "The hell you don't, man!" He gets up in Sett's face, only possible thanks to his seated posture in the chair Romeo had since vacated. His long brown hair drapes over his shoulders, in contrast to the bigger man's tightly-bound ponytail. "You can stay here! Finish this job! You know what we're ramping up to. You planned it!"

"Yeah," Sett agrees, a sigh escaping his lips. "I do. I did. I know." He shakes his head and looks at Jake. "But it's not that simple. You've been in the life, man. You know what it's like."

Sett and Cerberus climb to opposite turnbuckles, hoisting their WWL Power Plant Tag Team Championship belts over their heads triumphantly.

"Furthermore, you heard what he said… about Morgoth."

The camera spins around the ring, showing off the celebrating duo. It spins faster and faster, blurring for a moment before coming back into focus. This time, Cerberus is replaced by Morgoth, and the belts now read "Hardcore Wrestling Alliance Tag Team Championships."

Sett blinks a few times, more rapidly than normal. "It's personal now. You get that, right?"

This time it's Jake's turn to sigh, dropping his head and his gaze to the ground for a long moment before putting a hand on Sett's shoulder. "Sure. And I can't say I don't see the allure of getting back in that ring one more time, either."

"¿Que sois talking about?" A new voice pipes up from seemingly out of nowhere. A shorter man melts out of the shadows behind Sett and Cerberus, startling them both.

"Christ, Fantasma," Sett says over his shoulder. "Do you really have to do that?!"

"Si," Fantasma says with a little laugh. "Por supuesto."

He reaches into his jacket and pulls out three bottles of Corona, splayed between the fingers of his right hand. He extends the hand towards his teammates, who accept the bottles. "El gringo es en route, Chaos will be returning soon," he notes, saying the name of his partner with the Spanish phonetics, making it sound more like 'chows.' "He did not try anything funny."

"Good," Jake notes, raising an eyebrow.

"I still do not trust him," Fantasma remarks in thickly accented English.

"Me either," Cerberus replies, glancing up at Sett. Sett rolls his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure that dude was FoS, so, yeah. Trust him only about as far as our little Phantom here can throw him."

Fantasma scowls at Sett for a moment, but produces a bottle opener and quickly opens the beers for the others and them himself. "It was a good job today. We are close to plan completion, eh?"

"Yeah, well, y'all are," Sett responds, looking up at Jake. "Cerberus here will be taking point for a while. I've got some business to attend to."

"¿Que eso? Business more important than this?"

"That's what I sai-"

Sett cuts off Jake's comment by standing up abruptly. "Yes, Cruz. More important than this."

"Do we not get a say in this?"

"It's not up for vote." Sett remarks, suddenly feeling the urge to bite his lip.

Sett sits in a boardroom, wearing a button up shirt and a new pair of jeans to go with his bandana and ponytail. He's trying his hardest to fit in, but still sticks out like a sore thumb, even on a board dedicated to a pro wrestling federation.

"All voting for dissolution of HWA and the exchange of assets over to High Society control, please say Aye." A chorus of Ayes wash the room. Sett stands silent.

"And all voting against, please say Nay," the executor remarks, staring dryly at Sett.

Sett's eyes narrow and he speaks the word.

A flash to a room, with a beautiful young woman named Monica and a small team of lawyers.

"Look, this is happening either way," She remarks, a note of genuine plaintiveness in her voice. "You heard the room. Even Royalty is ready to let it go. The deal is going through."

Sett shrugs. "Cool. Good for you. Enjoy your money."

"Thank you, I will. What I'm trying to say, Mr. Evans, is that you can also enjoy this money as well."

"Of course I am. I'm selling my stock, after all, whether I want to or not. I'd damn well better be getting something from it."

"And you will, but…" she sighs and sits down, pushing a manila folder over to him. "Look, let me be direct here. When it comes to processes like this, a unanimous vote looks so much better for the banks. When it looks like we're just muscling someone out against their will-"

"Aren't you?"

She purses her lips. "That's why I'm here, Ryan. I don't want that for you. Eric doesn't want that for you, either."

"I'm not entirely sure I give a good god damn what Eric wants, ma'am."

"Well, if you don't care about what Eric wants, maybe you'll be more interested in what he has…" she motions to the folder.

Sett opens it, peering through its contents. His eyes go wide as he recognizes what he's reading. "I… he… but how?"

"The High Society is very well connected, Ryan."

"This is legit information?"

"Accurate at least to last month."

"I couldn't find any of this. I didn't even know where to start. Even Damien's contacts were turning up nothing but dregs…"

"There's far more where this comes from, and Eric would be more than willing to share it all. All it takes…" she leaves the sentence hanging.

"… is a change in my vote," Sett finishes morosely and turns the page. Almost as if on cue, the written vote count page stares him in the face, his own signature left blank at the end.

"If that's not enough, I'm certain Eric would be more than happy to share some of the additional profits a unanimous vote will impart him. I'm quite certain it could be helpful to fund… whatever would happen next."

"Whatever would happen next…" Sett echoes, frowning deeply.

A long moment passes between them.

"How much are we talking?"

"We can discuss figures after. If you would?"

Sett's eyes narrow and he writes the word.

Back in the present, Sett shakes his head and repeats himself. "No vote. Not this time. It's important. To me."

Cerberus and Fantasma exchange glances, and then hold up their bottles, one after the other.

"Well then," Jake says. "Here's to the plan."

"Here's to cleaning the streets," Fantasma adds.

Sett smiles and raises his own bottle clinking it against the others, before turning to look out the since-unshuttered window. He watches as Pyre and Railjack bring out the beast from before, his head wrapped in a black bag with markings that resemble the head of a skeleton.

"Here's to us. The New Black Skulls."

Outside, the man at the security shack happens to glance up from his book in time to notice the body. He frowns, deeply. Figuring it's about time he makes himself scarce, he gestures to one of the Zapatistas on horseback to come over for a ride. Before he leaves the shack, he sets his book down on the small desk next to the locked cash box. The book's cover reads El laberinto de la soledad, by Octavio Paz.

The whole motley confusion of acts, omissions, regrets and hopes which is the life of each one of us finds in death, not meaning or explanation, but an end.
- Octavio Paz, El laberinto de la soledad

2020
Harbor
Miami, Florida

Michael Diamond, once again under the guise of “The Primeval”, stood atop the pier, looking out at the scene that unfolded before his very eyes. Night had long since fallen as police divers continued to search through the wreckage of the boat, trying to piece together just what had happened. Diamond had been asking himself that very question, how such an “accident” like this could have claimed Ste’s life. Diamond’s fists clenched tightly together, his fingers digging into his palms, as the rage continued to fuel him. He was becoming all too accustomed to this feeling of losing friends; Fudge just the most recent in a long list.

Erin Wallace: I thought I might find you, here…

Diamond turned his head slightly, looking behind him as Erin Wallace walked into the light, seemingly not afraid of this masked vigilante sulking in the shadows. He had long ago installed voice altering technology into his mask, always trying to be mindful to keep people from discovering his true identity. But, here, it didn’t seem like it was going to matter, Erin already clearly knowing who he was.

Michael Diamond: What do you want, Erin?

Erin Wallace: You’re a hard person to track down, Michael…

Michael Diamond: I prefer it that way, now I say again… “What do you want”?

Erin Wallace: (ignoring the question) I’m sorry about Fudge…

Hearing his name escape her lips was enough to send Michael into a violent frenzy as he turned and grabbed Erin around the throat. With lightning speed, he had her up against the wall of the warehouse, her eyes wide in horror. It was only then, that Michael saw the state that she was in; her figure frail, her eyes dark, her hair unkempt… almost as if she hadn’t eaten, slept, or showered in weeks.

Michael Diamond: (releasing his grip on her throat and backing away) Sorry…

Erin Wallace: (grabbing at her throat) It’s okay… though I did think for a second there that you were going to kiss me…

Diamond’s eyes squinted at the reminder of their past history as Erin shrugged her shoulders.

Erin Wallace: Come on Michael, that was years ago, when are you going to let that go…?

Michael Diamond: (losing his patience once again) Erin…

Erin Wallace: Yes, yes… “What am I doing here”? I’ve been following a lead, just happened to take me here. Guess I didn’t make it in time…

Michael Diamond: Wait… lead? What lead?

Erin seemed to bite her tongue, as if she had revealed too much. Diamond glared at her as her hand went subconsciously to her throat, rubbing where Michael had forcefully grabbed her just moments earlier.

Erin Wallace: It’s nothing concrete, just pure speculation at this point…

Michael Diamond: Then you won’t mind telling me what you have.

Erin Wallace: Michael, I… can’t. It’s not safe…

Diamond looked back out to the ocean, as if that was the reminder he needed.

Michael Diamond: Do you really think he’s dead?

Erin Wallace: Fudge…? Michael, they found a body-

Michael Diamond: (interrupting) No, not Fudge. Danny…

Michael turned back to look into Erin’s eyes, recalling her “theories” of what happened to Danny Starr all those years ago on the ten year anniversary show. Off camera, he had made inquiries with anyone that would talk to him, hoping that someone had heard something… anything. Erin had told him to let it go, that Starr was gone, but Diamond refused to believe it back then. But now, something didn’t seem right about this… any of this.

Michael Diamond: Do you think something like this could’ve happened to Danny?

She could see the hurt in his eyes, knew that he blamed himself for Danny’s disappearance.

Erin Wallace: Truthfully, I don’t know Michael… but I do know that if he is still out there, somewhere, you’ll find him. You’ve never been one to give up, on anyone…

Michael nodded his head, turning away from Erin and beginning to walk off the pier. She paused for a moment, pondering her options, before running after him.

Erin Wallace: Michael, wait!

Reaching out, she grabbed a hold of Diamond’s arm. He turned around to face her as she reached into her pants pocket, pulling forth a piece of paper.

Erin Wallace: (handing him the paper) I think you should take this…

Michael looked at it, seeing an address crudely scrawled across it.

Michael Diamond: (not accepting it) What is this…?

Erin Wallace: Maybe nothing, maybe something… Conner can explain-

At hearing the word “Conner”, Diamond rolled his eyes and began to walk away again. But, again, Erin ran after, this time keeping pace with him as they walked.

Erin Wallace: I know you two have your history…

Michael Diamond: That’s an understatement, Erin… you know we hate each other. What could we possibly have to discuss?

Erin Wallace: Just go, please… hear him out?

Diamond turned to argue with her, but could see the desperation in her eyes. Sighing, he took the piece of paper from her, a slight smile creeping across her lips, a small glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Michael Diamond: I make no promises…

Erin Wallace: My hero…

Erin wrapped her arms around Diamond, giving him a friendly hug, before making her way off the pier. Michael watched until she was out of sight, before turning his attention to the address on the paper. Thinking better of it, he crumpled up the piece of paper and dropped it, the note falling through the cracks and disappearing into the sand below.

Finally back on U.S soil Tommy now beaten, exhausted and paranoid, rents a car and begins driving to the closest person he could think of and hoping that upon arrival he wouldn’t be beaten, Again. He puts the windows down and turns the radio up ready for a nice long drive through Texas. Romeo, after a few hours turns the radio down and pulls into the ranch driveway pulling all the way up to the house and checking all angles before getting out of the car and approaching the front door. Just as he raises his hand to knock the door opens. Surprised he stumbles over falling down the steps backward.

Syren frowning now stands at the top of the stairs.

“We dont want any!” Romeo smiles, “You would not believe what I’ve been through.”

Syren looks down at the bedraggled heap of a man laying in her front yard. He looked like he had been through the wringer and back. She narrows her eyes as he speaks, so not a solicitor then? Why would she care what he had been through? And how did he find his way to her ranch, it was well off the beaten path. Maybe he wasnt all there in the head. She stares harder, trying to read him. Unable to figure it out, she glances over her shoulder, making sure her daughter, Niamh was still safely ensconced in the house. She turns back to face him, shifting her body into a slight, defensive position, just in case. "Who the hell are you?"

“Miss I’m Tommy Romeo and ive come a long way to.” Tommy stops looking her up and down a small grin coming to his face as he clamors to his feet. Brushing himself clean and attempting to fix his hair. “I’m here because you need to come to one night stand.”“I mean ummmm the HWA needs you umm people are dying!” Tommy blushes a bit hoping not to get hit for the misconstrued inuendo.

Her eyebrows shoot up as he speaks, pretty much confirming her suspicions that he had taken one too many blows to the head. One night stand indeed!!! She opens her mouth to tell him just what she thinks when he continues on and the words die in her throat as he says the letters HWA. She blinks, trying to process what she had heard.

"Dying? What are you talking about?"

Maybe he really was crazy. Dying? HWA? She racks her brain, trying to call up any recollection of a Tommy Romeo. A vague flash crosses her mind of the name, but not an image. He could be someone bonkers pretending to be the man. She wouldnt have been able to tell. Hesitating, she takes a step down, towards him.

"How do you know who I am?"

“I wrestled in HWA for a bit we know some of the same people.”

Sett, now that was a name she knew. Could he really be this in depth in a ruse? Could be, but... She comes down the last of the steps, standing before him, eyes looking over him.

"From the looks of things he didnt welcome you with arms wide open. Tell me whats going on."

Romeo steps back away as she approaches “Well you see apparently Setts been involved in some questionable work the last few years it wasn’t him per say that did this to me, but the guys that brought me to him.” Romeo

Syren nods slowly, still not convinced that Romeo was all there in the head but willing to hear him out.

"What do you mean people are dying? What does this have to do with the HWA?"

“Eric Rayne is holding one final event he’s invited everyone from the HWA to come to this final One Night Stand” Romeo regaining composure looks her up and down again. “ and take back what is theirs.”“But someone has started killing off members of the HWA. I’m pretty fucking sure I’m being followed! “Romeos phone vibrates in his pocket and audibly goes (The Chosen One) he pulls it out of his pocket to fine another news story has broken about former HWA Star Fudge. “Look now Fudge is dead!” He hands her his phone. Syren looks alarmed at that statement, and glances around making sure there was nothing out of place. As he speaks more, Syrens concern grows. What in the hell was going on?! She hesitantly took his phone, and looked at the screen. Horror crosses her features. She grabs Romeo and essentially hauls him up her stairs and shoves him through the front door of her house. "Get in here!"
Romeo struggles with her as she drags him up the steps” I mean I know I keep saying one night stand but damn woman you don’t even remember me.”

"Now I know youre fucked in the head. Im trying to keep you safe idiot, What do you want from me!?" She Replied rolling her eyes, and planting her hands on her hips.

“I need you to join the fight, I need you to be at One Night Stand and fight on the side of the HWA?” He raises his his arms and shrugs.

Pondering his words. Go back... go back and fight for HWA? She hesitates. She was a mother now, did she have it in her? But she could feel the old thrill creeping up inside her, the rush she always got when she knew it was time for her match. This was her chance to experience it again... and it seemed she was needed now more than ever.

"Ill be there." She states.

“Good, You’ll tell Tristan as well or should I track him down myself?” He replies

"Ill tell him, he will be here soon" Syren looks out her window once more, turning back to Romeo with concern.”Do you need anything before you go?"

“No, he states just keep yourself safe there’s 6 of us dead. I should leave before anyone realizes I’m back in the US.” Romeo steps toward the door unbolting the lock and walking out the door closing it behind him. Thinking he was slick just because one recruitment had gone smoothly. He had no idea what was in store at his next few stops. His next move was to again leave the country and cross the pond to visit Ron Royalty himself.

"Can I ask you both something that's been on my mind for a few days now?" Danny asks from behind his desk as Jared and Scarlett wonder why they had been summoned along with the other High Society members. "Where did you learn how to intimidate people?"

Jared and Scarlett look at each other, confused by the question. "What do you mean?" Jared asks.

"I mean, the orders were simple." Danny says, "You go to Syren's property and make it extremely clear that they are being warned by Eric Rayne. Who's brilliant idea was roleplaying as some stereotypical "rich snobs" to steal their fucking farm!"

"It's a ranch..." Scarlett corrects Danny.

"I don't care what it is!" Danny erupts, "If they are fighting with you... they aren't intimidated! Then, to make matters worse, You didn't mention "Eric Rayne" or "High Society" at all!"

"Well, I mean... we said our names." Scarlett defends her and her husband's methods.

"So, you expected Syren to already know both of you..." Danny's eyebrows raise, "or did you expect her to google you and somehow put it together that you are part of a secret society!?"

Both Scarlett and Jared keep their mouths shut.

"Then, to top it off.. the real cherry on top: Tommy Romeo not only gets to her... but recruits her!" Danny explodes, standing up as he shouts. "If you had just listened! What is it with everybody? Nobody fucking listens!"

"Hey... Danny... we did what you asked." Jared tries to remain calm, but still defending themselves.

"You did what I asked?" Danny turns his attention to just Jared, "I asked you to quell Syren and Tristan Wolfe so they wouldn't even entertain Tommy Romeo's visit. I told you to make sure they WOULDN'T join the resistance. So, with that said, do either of you feel you accomplished your goals?"

"You know what, Starr?" Jared gets angry, "None of this shit makes any sense. Are you really going to host an event and wrestle these people? This is ridiculous and sounds like a bad wrestling angle."

"I'm not going to wrestle." Danny admits, "You are. You all are."

"Whoa" Tony says, "Danny man, I haven't wrestled in years..."

"Starr, we haven't even trained..." Corwin admits.

"You want us to wrestle?" Mary Jane says, "Are you serious?"

"If you all had done your jobs, they wouldn't be showing up to begin with!" Danny scolds them.

"You're the one who made an event as some misguided attempt to lure them to their own destruction..." Steven says, "Why should we have to take part in your problems?"

"I never had to ask my FOS twice for anything." Danny says, "Why is it constant complaining from the High Society?"
Nobody in the room has an answer.

"Now, thanks to the Sengirs, I have to have a professional take care of Syren." Danny moves for his phone, using his mouse to click the SYNC button to turn his voice into Eric's.

"Starr..." Jared says, standing up. "Maybe we won't go along with all of this anymore."

With the phone on his ear, ringing for his "professional", he waves Jared away whispering, "If you can't get this job done, maybe we can put Tyler back somewhere safe until I see some results."

"No... please..." Scarlett begs, but Jared has grown sick of his constant threats, lifting his arm up as if he is planning to use his telekinetic powers.

"Maybe you are losing your mind and we aren't going to go down with you!" Jared edges closer to using them.

"Abrianna." Danny says, "Are you currently available... Good... there's a fire I need you to put out; someone you have history with..." Danny looks at Jared's hand in the air, mid-sentence, and waves a signal in the air.

Suddenly, to everyone's surprise, two masked mercenaries wearing Stormcorp. patches grab each of Jared's arms, making him unable to use his powers as his arm is taken to the side.

"Yes, I'm sure you remember a Syren from the HWA?... The same." Danny says over the phone.

A third mercenary carries over a large silver case and places it on Danny's desktop in front of him, unlocking it, and lifting the lid. Danny reaches in and retrieves a small device that the other members struggle to see beyond the open top of the case.

"There's a small ranch... oh, you know it... good.." Danny says as he lifts, what looks like the shape of a gun with a flat muzzle to Jared's forehead despite his protests.

"Please, don't kill him!" Scarlett assumes her husband is about to be shot in the head. Danny pulls the trigger as everyone excluding Stormcorp/Danny winces, awaiting a loud bang or the death of their long time colleague, but nothing happens.

Danny simply puts the gun back into the case and Stormcorp's mercs release Jared. The third soldier closes the case back up and carries it away as fast as he had brought it. Everyone is stuck in place, unsure what just happened, if anything.

"Very good. I will anticipate your results. Goodbye." Danny hangs up the phone and sits down in his chair again. The members of the High Society are puzzled, silently waiting for what just happened to make sense, but nothing is explained.

"What did you do? what was that?" Jared asks, confused as everyone else.

"I told you last time... that was a free one." Danny reminds him.

"I feel weird..." Jared says, "what did you..." he holds his hand out to use his powers but nothing happens. "Whatd you do..."

"No more toys." Danny says.

"My powers!" Jared realizes they are completely gone.

"What powers?" Danny offers a shit-eating grin.

"You took them? How?" Scarlett asks, in complete horror.

"Well, without the Left Hand, you don't really need them anyway." Danny writes off the significance of what makes Jared, Jared. "It's, you see, the prefrontal cortex, the third eye as they say, once sterilized by say ultrasonic disruption, extrasensory ability will be forever hindered."

"You stole a part of me!" Jared has tears in his eyes.

"There's still a much more important part of you I am going to be taking next." Danny threatens.

"Please danny please!" Scarlett begs.

"Don't worry. You'll get him back... once the job is done. and that goes for all of you... from now on, i expect the absolute best from each of you because if i somehow lose to the HWA, the world will know everything I know... and it'll be devastating for your reputations to say the least."

Jared rushes out, Scarlett shortly behind- both completely broken hearted by a single brush stroke from Danny Starr. Danny returns his attention to the computer as the others stand by.

"You just killed a part of him..." Tony mutters, "Like it was nothing...."

"It was nothing." Danny admits, "He was a fucking freak. Now, he's just a man."

"Don't you feel like... that was too far?" Tony asks.

"Maybe it wasn't far enough." Danny argues, "Maybe the world would like to know about Tony Gold's no girl's allowed club? Or maybe Johnathon Keeper's private island visits to get massages from 16 year old girls? Or maybe-"

"I actually really like this side of you..." Mj admits with a smile.

"I like making deals, Starr." Steven says, "The only dirt you have on me is something I can easily manuever out of, so, I can't be blackmailed like the others."

"Me neither." Mj says, "I've kept it air tight and last I checked, Steven and I don't have special powers, so how exactly do you expect to control us if we didn't plan on going along with this?"

"Is this you saying you aren't going to go along with this?" Danny asks them.

"I said, I like making deals." Steven reminds him.

"I'm listening." Danny says, providing them with his full attention.

"My wife and I have a very special place in our hearts for you Starr." Steven begins, "One, I could best describe as... a love/hate kind of relationship, that I'm sure is mutual."

Danny nods with a smirk. "I mean, I did kidnap your wife."

"Exactly!" Mj almost seems delighted, "And, I am the one who scared your sister away in the first place- per Eric's orders. I mean, it's always been tit for tat with us, right?"

"What's your point?" Danny is bored.

"We will help you accomplish your goals..." Steven says, "But we want-"

"I want your sister for myself." Mj admits.

Danny contorts in confusion.

"That's it?" Danny asks. "why?"

"And Michael." Steven interjects, "I've always wanted to be able to say I buried the FOS but your friend had always evaded me."

"I can't guarantee they'll even show up." Danny says.

They wait for his answer.

"Fine." Danny says, "You can have them in a tag match. Both of you. If they show up. I don't care."

"That's comforting." Steven says, "We thought you might try to protect them."

"Not anymore." Danny says.

A notification alerts Danny marked as urgent, sending the Stormcorp mercs into a frenzy as they scramble to prepare the technology for observation. The High Society feeling in the way shuffle to the side of Danny's desk as Danny clicks the notification to appear across the wall of screens.

"Big brother, here." Brandon Kayros mutters to himself.

On the screen is surveillance from an airport, specifically Philadelphia International Airport. Tommy Romeo is heading for Heathrow, which can only mean one thing.

"Ron Royalty." Danny smiles, "The one man I want to show up."

"Sir, we have good news from the Commander." A Stormcorp. mercenary approaches Danny with an encrypted cellular device. Danny grabs it and places it to his ear.

"Starr, we are at their location." Grimes informs Danny.

"Did the package get planted?" Danny asks.

"Birds in the cage. We have the building surrounded; waiting on your go." Grimes says.

"Keep them alive." Danny orders, "The HWA doesn't need any more martyrs."

"Understood." Grimes says, "On my command..."

"And Grimes..." Danny interupts,

"What's up?" Grimes asks.

"Seize all of their computers." Danny orders, "Every last one of them."

"Affirmative." Grimes says, "It's a go! GO! GO!"

Danny stays on the phone to await confirmation which turns into minutes. Suddenly, Danny can hear gun fire from the otherside of the phone. He fears there will be more maryrs. After a few minutes more, the phone begins to rattle until Grimes returns.

"One pulled a gun, we had to engage." Grimes delivers the news.

Danny's eyes close in frustration.

"Was the terrorist identified?" Danny asks.

"Seems to be the leader." Grimes confirms.

Danny begins smashing the phone against the top of his desk over and over until it inevitabally breaks into pieces. Out of breath, all he can do is watch Romeo walking through the T.S.A. check, his fists clenched.

Syren stood staring out the window of her home long after the dust from Tommy Romeos car had settled. Her mind was racing in all different directions, trying to absorb everything she had just heard. She is broken from her trance by a tug on the hem of her shirt. Started, she looks down into the deep brown eyes of her daughter. Niahm scrunches her face up with concern.

Niahm: Mommy? I've been calling you. Can I ride Hank?

Syren manages to give Niahm a bright smile, telling her to run out to the stables and she would be right there behind her. She watches her daughter scamper off and shakes her head, trying to get herself together. She follows a moment later, finding Niahm already brushing her pony down in the cross ties. She helps slightly, letting the 6 year old take the lead as she was fiercely independent. Within a few minutes they have the little bay tacked up and are heading out to the riding ring. Niahm puts on her helmet, clambers aboard and sets the patient pony to task. Syren lays her forearms on the top rail, and leans, keeping a watchful eye but not terribly concerned. She and Tristan had purchased the pony for their daughter over a year ago and he had proven himself to be nothing short of a saint. Syren could still recall the way Niahms eyes had lit up when she spied the equine with the big red ribbon tied to his halter. She had immediately dubbed him Hank. And one picked and chose their battles with Niahm. She was stubborn and tenacious as the day was long. It was a trait that would serve her well in the future, although Syren had to remind herself of that when locked in battle with her over something. Tristan usually had better luck, and often teased both of them about it. Niahm would do great things, Syren and Tristan just had to survive raising her first.

She catches some motion out of the corner of her eye and looks over in time to see Adlynn run up, Skye not too far behind her. Niahm waves to her best friend, who slips into the arena to excitedly go talk. Skye moves up beside Syren who greets her with a welcoming smile. They exchange some small talk before Skye asks if she can take the two young girls on a trail ride. Syren readily agrees, figuring some time to herself is much needed. After some moments saddling up another pony, as well as a horse, she is waving to them as the trio head towards the trail head between the corn fields. She watches until they vanish from sight, then turns and wanders back towards the house, her mind slipping back into the the events of the morning. She pauses in the doorway of the barn, drawn to the ring she had had constructed. She slides her hand along the mat as she moves around it, recalling all the training she had put in over the last year or so. She had worked herself back into fighting shape, practicing with rising young stars and trying her hand at a little training. It had helped to keep her mind about Tristan putting his life on the line again. If she was honest, this time had been even harder than all the years before. She twists the ring on her finger. It had been hard enough to accept when he had left when there was no real expressed commitment between them... now that he was her husband, it had about killed her. It was for the betterment of the world though, and not something she felt she should hold him back from.

She walks back up to the house recalling her wedding, a day she had never thought would come. But here she was, married to the man of her dreams, with an amazing daughter, and never happier. Even after the dark times, losing the ranch and rebuilding from scratch... and their loss. She feels a sharp stab of pain at the thought of their child that would never be. That had taken more out of the couple than she cared to admit, but they had gotten through it by leaning on each other, and for that Syren would be forever grateful. Up until the recent visit by the Segnirs, everything had been great. She frowns at the thought, If she could just get her hands on that self centered, cocksure bitch who had eyeballed Tristan like a filet mignon... she shakes her head sharply. More worrisome was the chance of losing their home, something they were scrambling to try and figure out. And now with Romeo showing up and dumping... whatever he just had in her lap, it seemed like things were about to get stirred up again when they were finally calm. Yes, everything had been great except... the little piece of her that always seemed to be missing.

She sucks in a breath at where she found herself. Her memorabilia room. She steps in, looking around at all the relics of her past, from her runs in the HWA. She steps in front of a picture, seeing the fierceness in her own eyes. Her very first promo shot... she had been so determined, ready to crush anybody in her path regardless of size or gender. Who could have known how far shed go? Her gaze travels around at all her photos, her first tag match with Tristan, as a champion. Flying off the turnbuckle. The air was her second home. She stops in front of a case bearing all her replica belts. She had held many, her pride and joy being the achievement of being the only woman to ever hold the World Title... not once, but twice. She lets her gaze linger on them all before moving on until she was standing before some of her ring attire.

She reaches out and rests a palm against the glass. Could she do it? Could she don her tights once more and get in the ring for real? She didnt think she had a choice... the lure, the call, was already wrapping around her. Her own siren call. There wasnt really an option for her. The HWA was in trouble, and she had to go back. She wasnt quite sure just what was going on, but she was powerless not to throw herself into the fray. She could only wonder though, what would Tristan think of it all? Would he want to go back with her? Would he let her possibly risk her own life? Did he know just how much she missed it? The lights, the music, the rush of adrenaline through her veins. The feeling of spinning through the air onto an opponent. There was nothing like it.

The sound of an engine can be heard as Tristan’s truck pulls up outside the house. Despite the warning to “do nothing”, Tristan still had a job to do… he wasn’t about to let the Segnir threat take that away from him. None-the-less, the feeling of constantly looking over his shoulder since their arrival was not something that sat well with him; his job was already one that kept his head on a swivel, now it seemed to be more of a “bobble head” if anything.

Tristan Wolfe: (opening the front door) Sy… you in here?

Tristan had heard the sound of the girls laughing outside and, since he had received no response, believed his wife to be outside with Niahm, Addlyn, and Skye. Tossing his ranger hat onto the dining room table, something Syren would no doubt give him grief for later, Tristan loosened his tie and began to unbutton his shirt. As he walked through the house, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He stepped into the memorabilia room, seeing Syren lost deep in thought.

Tristan Wolfe: Sy…?

Syren jumps, already on edge from the events of the day. She snatches her hand back from her ring attire, and sharply looks over her shoulder towards the doorway, exhaling a sigh of relief upon seeing Tristan standing there. She turns to face her husband, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. While being in the room wasnt totally out of the ordinary for her, she had tried to be careful not to show just how much she missed the ring. She wasnt exactly sure why, she knew he would probably understand at the very least, but it was something she had just felt the need to keep quiet about. She pastes a smile on her face, determined to at least greet him before blurting out everything that had transpired. With once last glance over at the wall, she makes her way over to Tristan, getting up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

Syren: Hello you. How was your day?

Tristan hadn’t meant to startle his wife, obviously believing she was dealing with her own types of paranoia with the Segnir threat. He welcomed her embrace, as he always did, loving that this was the first thing he was greeted home to every day.

Tristan Wolfe: (sighing) More trouble on the border, unfortunately…

Tristan’s eyes scanned the room, as if seeing it for the first time. This was one of the many new renovations they had installed after the wildfire had destroyed their home the first time. In the beginning, Syren spent many a night in here, looking over old tapes of her matches, reminiscing about the “good old days”. For the life of him, Tristan couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her in here, though.

Tristan Wolfe: What are you doing in here… (his eyes falling on the wrestling attire in her hands)… is it roleplay night already?

She glances down at the tights in her hands, not even realizing she had been carrying them with her. She was more effected from Romeos visit than she originally had thought. She glances almost guiltily up at Tristan until she realizes what he had said. She snorts and gives his tie a tug, raising her eyebrow suggestively.

Syren: Not what I had in mind but if you insist...

She trails off, unable to get into the sexual banter the two usually were engaged in. She sighs. She couldnt get her mind off of what had happened, she would have to come out with it sooner or later. She had said she would anyway. She runs a hand through her hair, eyes drifting over Tristans face.

Syren: I have to tell you something Tris. Someone came out to the ranch this morning...

She pauses, hesitating.

And there it was again, that feeling of dread… the threat imminent.

Tristan Wolfe: What!? Who!? When!?

As if some invisible force was lurking inside the house, Tristan feverishly scanned the room. Seeing nothing hiding in plain sight, Tristan walked to the window, looking out into the front yard as if he could still catch a glimpse of this person. Again, seeing nothing, he turned back to Syren.

Tristan Wolfe: Are you okay; are you hurt… (Tristan reached out a hand to Syren, looking for any telling mark on her body that would show sign of conflict) … why didn’t you call me?

Syren puts her hands on Tristans chest, trying to placate him. She was making a blunder of this for sure. She should have known after the last 'visit' they had gotten he would think the worst had happened and the evil duo had returned with more threats or bribes or whatever it was the Segnirs had planned for them.

Syren: No, No, not them.

She puts her arms around him, giving a quick hug to calm him down and assure him she was just fine. She leans back, looking up into his eyes.

Syren: It was Tommy Romeo.

Feeling her embrace released the tension, if only but for a moment. Still, he did not like how their quiet little ranch life was constantly getting disrupted by these constant visitors.

Tristan Wolfe: Oh my sweet Sy… (grabbing her face and looking deep into her eyes)… you say that name like I should know who the feck that is, I clearly don’t… should I?

She struggles to swallow the laugh that bubbled in her throat. It had been the same reaction she had had. Clearly neither had paid attention, or they had been in the HWA at different times. She shakes her head.

Syren: He was in the HWA

Her voice fades a bit before she takes a deep breath and plunges onwards.

Syren: Somethings wrong Tristan, he said theres trouble. Eric Rayne is back, with High Society, and wants to have a One Night Stand, and they want us back to fight on HWAs side, and Tris, people are DYING. Getting murdered. We have to go back and help.

Tristan released his grip on Syren and turned away from her, pacing back and forth. For a few moments, all was quiet, as he tried to process the information laid before him. The HWA wasn’t something he had thought of in a long time. Though it had given him his first break since coming to the States, in addition to introducing him to the woman who would be his future wife, he never felt like he had fit in there. Bounced around from backstage comic-relief personality, to foolhardy commissioner, to even a fierce competitor, Tristan never seemed to have found his groove in the wrestling business. Probably why he never considered going back to the life, Syren seemed to feel differently however. He remembered the things Angel had told him, how he could still see that twinkle in her eye. Why then, as her husband, did it not appear to Tristan until after his brother had told him.

Tristan Wolfe: Sy… (stopping his pacing and turning back to face his wife)… I don’t even know where to begin. The HWA closed almost 15 years ago, we’re both not the same people that we were back then. We have a life here, a family.

Tristan ruffled a hand through his hair, afraid to say the words that he knew that she didn’t want to hear.

Tristan Wolfe: If what you say is true… and Eric Rayne is back, then that’s it… it’s over. I know you don’t want to hear this but there is no stopping a man like that; a killer like that. I know what the HWA means to you… but if people are really dying over this… is that worth the risk?

Syren watched him pace, her heart sinking. She knew what his response was going to be before he even opened his mouth. Her head bowed, listening. She knew he was right. He had all the points she knew he would bring up. He was, in fact, confirming that she was absolutely mad for even considering this. They had Niahm to worry about, the thought of not coming home to her daughter the only thing really holding her back. Even then, the yearning inside her could not be ignored. Her loyalty was strong, especially when it came to the company she had dedicated her life to. How could she not respond to the call? She was needed, and needed for something that made the blood sing in her veins. Her eyes close a moment, before raising her chin up, looking at her husband, eyes glinting with a hint of her former fierceness.

Syren: How can I not risk it? They need help Tristan. I cant not go back. I can do this... WE can do this. He needs to be stopped. (she holds her hands out, palms up beseeching him to understand) I want this.

She is about to continue on when the sounds of galloping interrupt her. Her head swings towards the window, looking outside and seeing a single rider racing like a bat out of hell towards the house. a chill races along her spine. It was normal for the girls to race, but after a second no others came into view. She realizes its Addlyn racing towards the house. The chill morphs into full blown alarm. She abandons any thoughts of the HWA before she bolts from the room to the back of the house, her daughters name on her lips.

She skids out of the door as Addlyn yanks the reins back, talking a mile a minute. Syren hears 'Hank' 'Niahm' 'Down' 'Hurt' and its enough, Panicked, she makes sure Tristan is behind her before they charge to the scene, finding Skye on her knees next to the prone pony, struggling to lift him enough to slide a crying Niahm out from underneath him. Tristan moves to help her, Syren managing to get their daughter carefully out once Hank is lifted up. She could see her leg was at an awkward angle, and her cries about making sure Hank was okay nearly ripped her heart in two.

Syren: We have to get to the hospital. Skye?

She let the unspoken question hover in the air. Skye nods. She would call out Wade, the vet and he would do whatever had to be done to save Hank. IF Hank could be saved. It didnt look good, and Syren couldnt understand what had happened to him, but she had to tend to her daughter now. She dreaded the results if they lost the pony. She passes her teary eyed daughter into the arms of her father, as they rush to their vehicle and away.

**** Hours Pass ****

An exhausted Syren gently pushes the golden hair of her daughter off her face. Niahm was resting as comfortably as could be expected and had finally fallen asleep. Syren suspected the strong cocktail of painkillers and anti inflammatory drugs were doing their job. She sighed and stood up. It had been a long evening. Niahm had a badly broken femur bone and was in a cast, but had gotten very lucky. It could have been so much worse. There would be no riding for Niahm for a long time. In fact they had made her up a room on the main level of the house, since she wouldnt be able to maneuver up the stairs anytime soon. Tristan had brought down nearly the entirety of his daughters belongings at her request, although Syren had drawn the line at disassembling the entire bed and bringing it down. She quietly slips from the room and heads towards the faint voices she heard in the kitchen. She quietly enters, both men looking up at her.

Wade: I was just telling Tristan, that Hank must have gotten into something.

Syren listens numbly as Wade explained out how he had passed a tube down into Hanks stomach and pumped its contents, following that with a lavage with large volumes of water. He had put Hank on an IV, and given him a charcoal slurry to absorb chemicals remaining in the stomach and intestines. Syren felt her own stomach roil at the thought. She didnt understand how this could have happened. They were always so careful with their animals. Accidents happened, but why did it have to be Hank? Niahm would be devastated if they lost him. She posed the question to Wade, about what the odds were the pony would make it. He got up and awkwardly patted her shoulder.

Wade: Its going to be a long road, a lot of touch and go. Id better get back out there and keep an eye on him.

He left, leaving Syren and Tristan alone. Tristan looked to Syren, seeing the worry for their daughter still etched on her face. He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around his beloved, giving her a reassuring kiss on the forehead. Placing an arm around her shoulder, Tristan guided Syren to the dining room table, gently guiding her down into one of the chairs. He could sense that she was wondering why the special treatment, to which Tristan simply forced a smile out.

Tristan Wolfe: I’m not going to pretend that I understand any of what is going on right now Sy… and that’s saying a lot coming from me and all the shite I’ve been through. But there is definitely something going on here… that much is certain. I’ve already taken the liberty of asking Raenia, Skye, and Angel to keep an eye on the place.

Syren seemed to open her lips to ask the obvious “why”, but Tristan simply shook his head, grabbing the laptop off the kitchen counter and placing it on the table, in front of his wife. Pressing the “play” button, Tristan stalked away, allowing Syren to watch the callous video that Abrianna had left for her.

He sipped away at his beer, watching the heat behind her eyes intensify; her fingers curling inwards, digging into her very skin. All her numbness faded away, replaced by a burning fury. It was all so clear now. They would stop at nothing, NOTHING to keep Syren and Tristan in line. She nearly growled as she watched Abriannas smug face. She had hated her back then, but that was nothing compared to the utter loathing she felt now. To poison a childs pet was low, even for scum like Abrianna. As the video scattered into static, Syren slammed the laptop closed and got up to stalk around the room. Her hands were clenched by her sides. She wanted to vent her fury, but the subject of her violence wasnt close enough at hand. She settled for a very uncharacteristic smashing of her fist into a wall.

Syren: I'll kill her myself.

If they lost Hank, nothing could protect Abrianna from Syrens wrath. She would scour the ends of the earth to find her. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Even if he lived, she wasnt so sure she could be generous enough to allow her life. She had injured Niahm, both in body and mind and that was a line nobody crossed. She whirls around to face Tristan, feeling positively feral.

Syren: If I ever get my hands on her, I will break every bone in her body.

Hearing bone crunch against wood was enough to almost make Tristan choke on his beer. He had anticipated her aggression, but not to this extent. He had half-a-mind to go to her, to tend to her hand, but seeing the fire in her eyes made him pause, contemplating if she would even see him as her husband or the target of her rage. He had the chance to see the video while Syren was tending to Niahm; had the chance to already go through the different range of emotions it had made him feel. Wade, too, had witnessed it… and having confirmed that Hank was, indeed, poisoned, he felt confident that he had taken all the proper steps to ensure the animal’s survival.

Tristan Wolfe: I think you mean “when” you get your hands on her, Sy…

Tristan walked back over to the table, flipping the laptop back open, seeing the screen had been cracked a bit when Syren had slammed it shut. Flipping off the internet tab that had the security footage of Abrianna’s message to them, Syren pressed forward as Tristan switched over to the next tab… a travel website where two airplane tickets for Los Angeles had already been purchased. Syren, perplexed, looked back over at Tristan.

Tristan Wolfe: I’ve ignored this long enough Syren, I know this is something you want… now more than ever. It’s time you get the proper sendoff you deserve, and maybe a little revenge while we’re at it.

Tristan stepped away from her, placing his hands against the kitchen counter, his back to her.

Tristan Wolfe: Truthfully… the HWA never mattered to me the way that it did to you but… (glancing over his shoulder)… you matter to me, and that’s all I need. Plus…

Tristan turned around, his own temper beginning to rise to the surface.

Tristan Wolfe: Eric Rayne and High Society be damned, no one hurts our little girl and gets away with it. It’s time we show them they fucked with the wrong family.

Seeing the airline tickets, Syren rolled through the range of emotions. She felt the adrenaline rise up to join to her rage. She was going to go ahead and dismantle anybody who got in her path. They had gone too far. In doing so, they had stirred up the pair of Wolfes and would soon come to regret it. She had no idea what was going on, but there was hell to pay, and shed be damned if they were going to back down from a threat. Syren stalked towards her husband, stopping before him. An untamed smile plays across her lips as she slides into his arms, a silent thank you.

Syren: We will destroy them all.

Tommy freaked out by driving on the opposite side of the road catches a cab from the airport to the countryside.

After making small talk with the cab driver who seemed to amused with him with and the way he spoke. A large country house comes into view.

“Hot damn Ron your doing alright!” Tommy exclaimed, but the closer he drew to the house the more run down it looked.

“Thanks man you have a good one.” Tommy said as he paid the cab driver and exited the cab.

The cab driver chuckling and shaking his head as he drove off. Tommy then approached the front door and knocked. Then knocked again a bit louder. Still no answer he knocks a third time and yells out.

“Hellooooo?” After waiting for close to 15 minutes Tommy begins to freak out after coming all this way the house being run down, no one answering the door. Tommy begins cursing and ranting kicking and punching the front door when suddenly a figure appears from around the side of the house.

“What the bloody hell’s all this racket about? Who the hell are you?”

“Oh Mr Royalty you may not recognize me but I’m Tommy Romeo I wrestled in HWA for a short period of time.” He smiles and continues on “Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior Jesus Christ?”

“You did? You are? Well you can jolly well bugger off. I’m not interested.”

“Listen that’s not why I’m really here.” There’s an event being held and I need all of you to come back and wrestle.”
“People are dying Ron and this company is yours and you know it.”

“You must be joking. Have you seen the state of me? I’m 55 man! I’m barely.... what??...Dying?” Rons face twists

“Yes Dying. Don’t you watch the news?” Tommy looks around “Nevermind.”

“News? Bollocks to that. Listen, I’ve been here to get away from all that nonsense. Yes, look around. We don’t have a television set. Thank God. No, I’m quite happy not knowing.”

“Romeo you say?” Ron looks blankly as if trying to recall.

Tommy rustles in his pocket reaching for his phone and pulling it out to reveal a notification stating a new Message from Eric Rayne video has been uploaded.
“Look I’ll take you back to the beginning multiple superstars have been seemingly assasinated. TCOs house has been burnt to the ground. I’m being chased after like a fugitive.”

“Well I’m sorry young man, but you’re barking up the wrong tree here with all of that wrestling storyline nonsense. I won’t be part of it.”

Tommy opens his phone to show him the invitation from Rayne and instead the most recent video begins to play, With Rayne blaming Ron Royalty for the attacks on the HWA stars.

“Eric Rayne..... I think you’d better come with me.” Ron leads Tommy across some open land before they reach some outbuildings. It looks more like a shed than a house. He pulls a latch across the door and gestures Tommy in.

Inside isn’t a whole lot more appealing. It’s comfortable enough, but there’s no luxuries to be seen. “I’ll pop the kettle on, how do you take your tea Romeo?”
“Milk and sugar” Tommy replies

“Right you are.” Ron shuffles over time the kitchen counter, grabbing two mugs and placing a tea bag in each before clicking the kettle on. “I tell you what. Eric Rayne. Hmmmm. He’s not to be trifled with.” “I’m Figuring that out.” Romeo quips

“You’d better fill in the details.” States Ron.

Tommy then recaps his adventure thus far from Philly to Annapolis to Utah down to Mexico and back into the states through Texas. The videos from Erik Rayne the deaths of HWA superstars as Tommy continues his tale Ron’s face begins to twist as he gets more and more worked up.

“So he’s saying I’ve done this?! He must be off his bloody rocker! What the hell is he on about!” Ron shouts as he Slams a mug down then wincing and clutching his chest.

“Listen to me, I’m a broken man. There’s nothing I can do.” He winces again, and pops a pill, handily swiped from his pocket.

“Three years ago Tommy I had a heart attack. I’m in no shape to do anything.”

He hands Tommy a steaming mug of tea.

“Doctors told me to see out my days peacefully. Especially away from that infernal wrestling.”

Tommy taking his tea from Ron sips his tea and let’s out a long mmmmmmmm.

“You may like living in this little... apartment but you don’t have to. Just one more fight Ron. One more for your company. For your name for your life. Well all be there to have your back, You can finish this once an for all. And stop hiding in this. Whatever this is.”

“You’re right. It’s the right thing to do. I just don’t see how. I actually have come to like this place! It’s great to be.... detached” Ron Replies frowning for he was slightly insulted by Tommy’s remark.

Romeo picks up his tea and sips. This time an ahhh escaping his lips.

“You surprise me. Most of your lot don’t have a taste for tea. The subtelty, the aroma!” Ron tosses his head back, eyes closed, savouring the taste.
Aaaaah!

“I love tea. My mother preferred it to coffee when I was child. So naturally I developed a taste for it was well.” He responds twirling his tea with his finger.

“Clearly a woman of impeccable taste! A big regret of mine you know? Never found.... the one.” Ron looks to one side, sad.

“There’s always time my friend.” Romeo stands up “listen Ron I have to get back to the states. I have to find the rest of the HWA. Do I have your word that I’ll see you in LA?”

"For what good it will do anyone." *Ron raises his eyebrows in amusement.

“Yes, you have my word.” Extending his hand to Tommy

“Good ,Then I’ll stay and finish my tea.” Tommy sits back down ignoring Ron’s hand.

“What good is coming to England and having tea without cakes to go with it, sir?” Ron, amused by Tommy takes a seat opposite and the two continue to chat.

After a while Tommy takes his leave of Ron and heads back to Heathrow to catch a flight back Philly. A sense of accomplishment now knowing at least three would come.

Ron sighs and gently closes the front door.

"Good God in heaven"

He looks around his living room, as if an answer is forthcoming. None is. He checks his pocket watch, and notices the time is getting late. He glances over to the sideboard and pulls out the telephone directory. He thumbs through until he finds the page he is looking for, runs his index finger down the page.

[BRITISH AIRWAYS - 0800 408 1111]

He carries the directory over to the telephone, an antique rotary dial. He dials the number.

"Press 1 for-"

He sighs again

"For the love of God"

He replaces the receiver, unable to press 1 due to the rotary dial. Instead he dials a number from memory, one which he has dialed many times before.

"Park View nursing home?"

"Good evening dear, it's Ron, for Alan."

"I'm afraid he's just gone to bed"

"Then wake him!"

"But-"

"This can't wait."

"Fine…"

A few minutes pass, before a frail voice answers.

"Ron?"

"Smithers!"

A croaky laugh on the other end of the phone.

"You'll never call me by my real name will you, you old goat!"

"Never!"

"What is it? It's late. I've had my Horlicks!"

"Listen Smithers…"

"Ron - I know why you're in touch. The murders, the HWA."

"What? But?"

"Unlike you living in the 1800s we do have the television here you know!"

"Blasted things!"

"That may be true, but at least I'm not living the life of a hermit."

"I like it that way!"

"I know, but Ron, what the devil is going on?"

"I've just had some gentleman around. Tommy Romeo."

"Romeo, Romeo, where fore art though Romeo!"

"Smithers, behave!"

"Sorry"

"I have to believe Rayne is behind this."

"Rayne?!"

"I don't know why, I just know he is. He robbed me, the swine. Robbed me of the HWA. Now he's back for what's left!"

"What did Romeo want?"

"Well this is the odd thing. He wants me to travel to California for some sort of event."

"Event?"

"Yes exactly"

"What will you be doing"

"I have no earthly idea, but you're coming with me!"

"You're funny."

"You are coming!"

"How the hell am I even supposed to get out here? They won't let me you know! Like a bloody prison this place!"

"Good point. Well, I need you to do me a favour. You have that mobile phone thing?"

"Yes of course"

"I need you to book my flights"

"Of course, sir!"

"Smithers!"

"Oh God, I did it again didn't I"

"Yep!"

"I'll get it done. Get yourself to Heathrow my good man!"

"Smithers - Thank you!"

"Just bloody well get yourself some modern technology!"

Ron rolls his eyes, smiles, and replaces the receiver.

The following day Ron boards the plane to California. Determined to do what he can for the men and women that remain of the HWA, and for the company he once owned.

*The scene fades in on a cloudy, gloomy day in Minnesota. A 3 story gray building looms in the foreground. A gun metal gray limousine pulls up in front of the building. The driver exits and walks to the back and opens the door. From the rear of the limo steps none other than Nate "The Phenomenal One" Hartman. TPO is dressed casually in jeans and a black Ricky Rubio jersey. He slowly walks up to the building where a man in a black suit with sunglasses opens the door.*

TPO: Are the glasses really necessary Mac?

Mac: Very funny sir, but its part of the "look" that you wanted.

*TPO enters the building which is revealed to be the home base of Phenomenal Enterprises. The lobby of is decorated in Minnesota sports memorabilia. On opposite was are floor to ceiling murals of the two World Series victories for the Minnesota Twins. TPO walks through the lobby nodding at various security guards and the receptionist on his way to the elevator. He slides a keycard into the slot outside his private elevator and the doors slide open silently. TPO punches the button to his 3rd floor penthouse. He takes the ride up in silence as he ponders the ramifications of the phone call he received the day before. The elevator reaches its destination with a soft chime. As the doors slide open silently TPO is rushed by a young child.*

Justine: DADDY!!!!!

*TPO grabs his four year old daughter and tosses her into the air and gives her a giant hug*

TPO: Hey sweetheart! Did you miss me?

Justine: No.

*TPO puts his daughter down and chuckles to himself at his young child's weird sense of humor.*

TPO: Well I missed you.

Justine: Daddy, can we play wrestler?

TPO: Of course we can!

*Justine jumps up and down excitedly as TPO pretends to kick her in the stomach and then powerbombs her onto the couch in the living area. The father and daughter pretend to put on a knock down drag out wrestling match, culminating in Justine pinning her father. Just then an attractive woman enters the room.*

Laura: I thought I heard some ruckus out here.

*Nate walks over and kisses Laura on the cheek.*

TPO: Hello baby. How are things?

Laura: They're going fine.

*Justine runs up just then*

Justine: Daddy, guess what?

TPO: What's that Monkey?

Justine: I can spell my own name!

*The child proceeds to spell her name for her father.*

TPO: Good job sweetheart! I'm so proud of you! But Daddy needs to talk to Laura in my office. Can you go play in your room for a little bit?

Justine: Sure!

*Justine runs off to play and TPO takes Laura by the hand and leads her into his spacious office in the corner. The lovers enter the office and Nate motions for Laura to have a seat as he walks around his enormous mahogany desk and sits in his oversized leather swivel chair.*

Laura: What's going on Nate?

TPO: We've been together for a couple years now. You've done a wonderful job of helping me raise my daughter after her mother died.

Laura: Of course. I LOVE you and your daughter.

TPO: Well, as you know in my past I was a professional wrestler.

Laura: Of course. One of the best to ever grace the squared circle, isn't that the line you used to get me?

*TPO laughs as he remembers the day he met his current lover.*

TPO: Yes it is. Nonetheless, you know I retired about 17 years ago. Shortly before the HWA closed its doors for what was assumed to be forever.

Laura: Ok.......

TPO: Well, I received a phone call yesterday from some stranger informing me that the HWA is reopening for one night only.

Laura: Ok.......

*TPO takes a deep breath before continuing*

TPO: I going to be involved.

Laura: Are you sure this is a wise decision babe? You're not as young as you used to be and you have a daughter that you need to think about.

TPO: I don't have any choice but to return to the ring. I have a lot of unfinished business in the HWA.

Laura: I don't like this one bit.

TPO: I understand your trepidation, but you need to understand that this is something I have to do.

*With that statement Laura stands up*

Laura: I need to go start dinner.

*She storms out of the office. TPO is obviously disturbed by his lovers reaction to the news of his return to the ring. TPO pick up the phone and punches in the number to the one person he knows will understand. As the phone rings Nate rubs his head in frustration.*

Man: Hello?

TPO: Murphy, its Nate. Can you meet me at the gym in 15? I'm back.

Murphy: Of course. I'll dust off your old ring gear for you. See you in 15.

*TPO hangs up the phone, takes a deep breath, and gets up and exits his office and walks out into the living area. Seeing noone in the room he walks into the kitchen where Justine is helping Laura make dinner.*

TPO: I'm going to meet up with Murphy. I'll be back in a couple hours.

*Nate walks over and gives his daughter a huge hug and kiss. He then leans over and kisses Laura goodbye. TPO leaves the kitchen and walks to the elevator and takes it down to the first floor. Exiting the elevator, and walking through the lobby, Mac opens the door for him as he approaches.*

TPO: Lose the shades Mac, there's no sun out today. You look ridiculous.

*Nate climbs in the back of the limo*

TPO: To the gym Lance. It's time to knock off some ring rust.

*The scene fades to black as the limo speeds away.*

Tommy arrives back in South Jersey coming down 295 north and about to reach his exit his phone rings. It's a notification for a video chat message that he wasn't able to receive when overseas. It's dated for days ago but now, finally showing up on his phone. Tommy hits play and tries to watch as he continues driving.

“Tommy can you hear me it’s Kevin, we are out of time. I gave the USB to Erin she will find you.”

Kevin Conner, he realizes.

“Don’t let him stop the resistance. The world has to know.”

In the background Tommy can hear shouting and other commotion in the background of the phone.

“Kevin? What’s going on? Is everything good?” Tommy hears a loud boot come though his car speakers and Kevin begins shouting.

“No No Wait Let me just!” Gunfire rings out over Tommy’s car speakers then silence.

“What the fuck was that about?” Tommy thinks to himself. “I’m sure he will be fine I’ve got to continue what I’m doing and go get the rest of these wrestlers.

Tommy spends the rest of the drive in deep thought. Worrying what may have actually happened on the other side of that phone call. Pulling into his home driveway he finds Erin already standing at his front door awaiting his arrival. Before he could even step out of his truck she was on him.

“This is from Conner.” She says while handing a USB drive to Tommy. “I’m leaving try not to fuck this up Romeo. We have a lot riding on this.”

Tommy responds solemnly. “Erin I just talked to Kevin on my drive home. There was gunfire then silence. I don’t know what happened after that.” Erins eyes well up with tears. “I told him he needed to move his operation elsewhere and he didn’t listen!" She screams. “I have to go!

This is your fault Tommy I never should have written that second article!” She walks to her car and as fast as the encounter could happen she was gone.

Tommy knowing what was on the USB rushed into the house. Forgetting to close his truck door in the process. He returns to the car and slips the USB drive into the head unit of his Truck. Knowing full well that it wouldn’t play. Then locking the door and closing the truck up for the night. This he thought was the most discreet place he could hide it, In plain view. Tommy goes back into the house hopping in the shower, changing into clean clothes, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and sitting down to watch some tube.

He turns the tv on and plops down onto his couch. Flipping through the channels a bit and settling on the local news. A few stories in and a breaking news bulletin scrolls across the screen. Several HWA member have been arrested one killed. Kevin Conner was dead and Tommy was sitting around watching Tv.

Frantically Tommy jumps out of his chair and runs to his phone, Picking it up and immediately dialing Evan. Evans phone goes directly to voicemail so Tommy runs out to his truck , jumps in starts it up and drives straight to Blanes, Banging on the door till he answers. Evan in a daze opens the door in a daze and Tommy forces his way in and slams the door behind him. We have to go, Conner is dead, a mess of us are in jail. It’s time to go get the Diamonds. Evan still groggy begins to ask “Can’t this wait till morning?” But Tommy cuts him short .

“No now get dressed and meet me in the truck. Erin was waiting for me when I got home, Kevin sent her to me with something important. She didn’t tel me he was dead I just found out on the news on my own. NOW LETS GO!” Tommy screams as he walks out the door closing it behind him.

Waiting in the truck the idle motor rumbling, Tommy mumbles to himself seemingly losing his mind, then putting the window down and vomiting out the window into the street. Evan finally dressed, walks out and get in the passenger seat.

“Did you puke in front of my house?” Tommy now laughing over it replies “ yeah it was full of hot dogs too.”

Tommy floors the gas and the two set off toward New England. Driving for hours and now somehow in Maine instead of the planned destination of Connecticut, Tommy pulls into a gas station to fill up the truck and reset his GPS. He steps out of the truck and goes into the store to piss leaving Evan asleep in the truck. The sun rose a while ago it now being 8:00 AM

Tommy buys and assortment of drinks and snacks and as always sampling the gas stations hot dogs. He pays for his gas and walks out of the store his attention on the large sign across the street. A huge sign reading “Sawyers Lumber Supply”.

“There’s no way it’s gonna be that easy is it?” Tommy said through a smile dropping the snacks off at the truck and walking across the street. Walking right up to the building and through the front door.

“Sawyer! Come out here! I’ve got some warped wood I’d like to talk to you about!”

Sawyer, in his office at the desk he made, hears a man shouting obscenities from the street, he doesn’t think much of it. Probably some punk kids looking for attention, attention that their parents never gave them. The man in the street continues to shout. Sawyer puts his morning new paper down and grabs his morning coffee, walks to the door and opens it. He looks at the man, very confused, he doesn’t remember his name, but he remembers his face. He sits there for a moment with a blank stare on his face. Confused he yells. “I’m sorry about your warped wood, I can fix it, but that warped attitude of yours I can’t.”

Tommy smiles wide and approaches Dan getting quiet, till they are almost face to face. “Look at you all drinking coffee and selling wood.” Tommy extends his hand to Dan. “You may not remember me but I wrestled in the HWA for a short time. My name is Tommy Romeo.”

Sawyer, hesitant extends his hand to shake Tommy’s

“Holy shit”

Sawyer thinks back, the HWA, what a time that was. The nights spent training, the blood, the sweat, and the tears. The events, the fans, and the pain.

He comes back to reality.

“What brings you all the way here to Maine?”

“Well Evan Blane and I kinda lost our way and ended up here in Maine instead of Connecticut at the Diamond house. But it works out because well I’m gathering the old stars of the HWA up for an event.”Tommy suddenly looks solemn. “You gotta come man, Eric Rayne is wiping us out. We need as much backup as we can get to fight for the HWA.”

An event? I run a business now, do I even still have the athletic ability to do this? When the HWA ended I slipped into a depression state, no real world skills, no sense of anything. I put myself through school at a late age to better my life.

“I don’t know, that was so long ago.”

Sawyer looks at ground, with his hand on the back of his head, nervously scratch his hair, he lets out a deep sigh.

“I run this business full time. I dedicate 80 hours a week here, and I’ve been more successful here in the past 13 years than I ever was wrestling.”

Sawyer collects him self and stand up straight and looks Tommy in the eyes

“I’m sorry, I just don’t believe it’s in the cards nowadays”

“Did I mention that Eric Rayne is Killing people?”

Sawyer, already turned around and half way in through the door.

“Killing people?”

Sawyer glares over at his gun safe

“Hah, let him try to find me”

Tommy shakes he head “That kinda thinking is what will get you killed. Ask Fudge or Kevin Conner. Wait, you can’t.” “Your starting to sound like Damien” Tommy thinks to himself. “Keep your strap on you for now not in the safe.”

Sawyer takes a deep breath.

“Listen I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, no one is finding me out here”

“If you say so Sawyer. You take care of yourself then.” Tommy turns around and begins walking away. “Hey Sawyer.” Tommy shouts now a short distance away. “I found you.” And continues on his way.

Dan Sawyer waves as the delivery truck pulls off into the deepening twilight. He closes the gates behind it, and heads towards the trailer that serves as his office. The stairs creak as he makes his way up them, and opens the door. He makes his way over to his desk, laying the delivery slip on top of it. He picks up a pile of other sheets and shuffles through them, sighing. He should really get some of this paperwork done before going home. He would have had it done before now, but he had been waiting on a late shipment of douglas fir. He had a construction company waiting on it, and the sooner he got everything done, the better. He settles himself down in the office chair, flicks on his television, and gets to work.

A couple hours later, he stretches back in the chair, making a low groaning noise as his stiff joints complain at the motion. He glances at the clock. He would take care of the rest of this paperwork tomorrow. As he stands to prepare to leave, his TV goes to static. He frowns and hits it. It would figure if the damn thing went on the fritz now. The static clears, leaving the logo of the HWA on the screen. He rears back slightly. “What the hell?” Again, with the HWA? He had put it out of his mind for years now, and it had been thrown in his face twice in recent time. He had just been visited by Tommy Romeo, and now somehow this was on his television? He flashes back to his own personal hell, to the time after the doors closed on both his wrestling career, and the entire company.

*** The night after fall of the HWA, Sawyer is seen sitting at the table in his hotel room. Beer bottles on their sides, a cold half eaten cheese pizza is open, cigarette ashes crumble as they hit the table top. He stairs blankly at the wall. His lips trembling in shock that it’s all over. All his years of training, his hopes of making it to the big time, it was all for nothing. The thoughts run through his head. What happens next? Everything was always in line, there didn’t seem to be an end. This was single handedly the biggest shock of his life. Was he going to be homeless? How long will his money last him?

Sawyer: What the fuck was that?

He speaks as if there is someone there listening to him. Everyone he was ever previously friends with, are gone. They all turned their backs on him because they thought he was ignorant for not listening to them. For following his dreams he was to be deemed an outcast. By his family and friends. It’s a damn shame that this is what it had came down to. A man who put his dreams first. Now bloody, cold and drunk with no where to go. Was suicide the answer? Does he take the cowards way out? He gets up out of the chair and looks at the torn up bed. How comforting it looks. He falls flat on his face in a comatose state from the alcohol. He starts having flash backs, but they run through his head with a faded black filter as nightmares. All the hardships, the tables he crashed though, the ladders he had fallen from. The sounds of the broke bones play in the background, like stepping on sticks in the woods. There is a knock on the door, he wakes up. He answers the door to see the hotel manager standing in front of him with two police officers off to each side.

Confused Sawyer: What’s going on?

The hotel manager catches a wif of the booze and cigarettes on Sawyer’s breath, offended by the odors he takes a step back, bumping into the two armed police officers.

Manager: Your card was declined last night, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, if you refuse, these two are going to remove you and it won’t be peaceful

Both police officers stare at him with their hands on their guns. Sawyer in shock, gets watery in the eyes and drops to his knees. Is this really rock bottom? How does a card get decline for 90 dollars for the night? He takes a deep breath and gets back on his feet. Using the door frame to hold himself up he looks at the manager.

Sawyer: I won’t put up a fight, just allow me to pack my things and I’ll be on my way. ***

He is startled out of his trance by the television changing once more, this time to the emblem of High Society along with pretentious music. His brow wrinkles as he watches Eric Rayne appear on the screen. His expression turns to one of shock as Rayne accuses Ron Royalty of sacrificing his own members to draw others into the battle. Followed by extending apologies for those who died. So, Romeo hadn't been exaggerating. He looks to his gun safe. It would be wise to start wearing his piece again. He had for a while after Romeo’s visit, but then when nothing had happened, had started locking it away again. He wonders idly if Danny Starr was answering the call to go back? Sawyer had always looked up to him, wanting to be like him, hold the same sort of power and revere. He had struggled to prove himself, to build himself up to the same greatness. He had put in a ton of work, willing to do anything to further his career. He had longed to be a part of the FoS, an elite group that Starr was also a member of. He rubs his beard. Oh well, there was nothing he could do to help them out. That part of his life was over. He had no interest in going back when he had a business to run here, and was happily on his feet and making a name for himself.

As he turned back towards his desk to grab his keys, he notices a glow outside the window. He makes his way over, and sees the motion sensing lights at the back of the lumber yard going on. “What the fuck now?” He scuttles over to the small security office and gapes at what he sees on the screens. Blacked out sedans and vans sat outside a large hole cut in the chain-link surrounding his property. Multiple figures, in Kevlar and helmets hovering low and taking up positions behind stacks of lumber. Before his eyes a few more streamed in, taking up positions. One motioned, and they all started to move towards the front of the property. Shit, they were here. He stumbled backwards, aware he doesn’t have enough time to open his safe and grab his gun. He runs to the door of the office and looks out, seeing nothing. He opens it, closing it quietly behind him, knowing if they saw it open, they would be suspicious. He dashes towards the nearest pile of plywood, slipping behind it just in time for the light of a scope to come into view, waving to and fro on the ground.

Rifles with lighted scopes? His stomach drops a little bit. They weren't here to play around and ask him how his day was, that was for sure. He hunkers down, holding his breath as he watches the group make their way forward towards the now empty trailer. He notices a symbol on both the arm and chest area of their uniforms. One points to Dan’s truck in the lot, then motions to the office, speaking in a low tone, but just loud enough to be overheard. “Sawyer must be in there. Let's move!” The group of men tromp up the steps and with a solid boot, kick the door down. They swarm inside, and Dan realizes it's now or never to make his move. It wouldn’t be long before they realized he was not inside in any of the rooms.

He hurries along the backs of the stacks of wood, towards a dark corner not wanting to risk trying to unlock the gate. He takes off the button-down he wore over his sleeveless T, and balls it up under his armpit. He swiftly climbs the chain link fence, and upon getting to the top, tosses the button-down shirt over the barbed wire running along the peak. It wouldn’t completely protect him from the razor wire, but it was damn sure better than nothing. He got a good grip, and swung his legs and body up and over, hearing the wire catch slightly at the denim of his pants with a tearing noise. He hits the ground with a thud and crouches there a few seconds, seeing if they had heard him, his harsh breaths seeming loud in the still night. Nothing. Staying close to the ground, he makes his way over to his truck as fast as he dared, and slips inside, closing the door behind him as silently as possible.

He sees the door to the office open, and slumps down in the driver's seat as far as he could, hoping the darkness and reflection off the windshield would work to his advantage. Three of the armed men step out onto the top of the stairs. They gaze around, the flood lights of the lumber yard bouncing off their goggles. One motions towards the back of the yard, while another sweeps his arms out in a gesture of frustration. Knowing he doesn’t have much time, or many options, Sawyer seizes the moment. He gets himself into position, then starts the truck. All heads turn in his direction as he slams the vehicle into reverse and presses on the gas. The whole group starts running out of the office, some taking aim at the truck. Sawyer ducks as bullets begin pinging off the metal. “Shit! Shit shit shit!” He gets a glimpse of most running back towards the hole they had made, before he throws the truck into drive and peels out of his lot, tires spitting gravel. He hears a quiet noise, and sees a perfect hole appear in the windshield, and then all the booms cease.

He presses his foot down to the floorboards as he pushes his pickup as fast as it will go. They’d be on his tail soon. His mind races, trying to figure out where he can go. As he rounds a curve, he sees it. A utility road, nothing more than a vague clearing in the brush. He jams on the brakes and pulls in, going as deep into the brush as he dared, turning his headlights off before maneuvering to face the road, cutting the engine. With luck, the dark truck wouldn’t be spotted in the woods. All is quiet for long moments, just the ticking of the engine breaking the stillness, when he sees the vague gleam of headlights. He ducks down a little, and holds his breath. Soon the blacked-out cars and van speed by, each with the same logo that had been on the men's uniforms on the doors. He waits long moments after darkness had fallen once more, to pull out his phone. He brings up Google, and types in circle, with red cloud, lightning shaped ‘S’. After a brief second the result pops up; Stormcorp.

Sawyer frowns. The name didn’t ring any bells. He clicks and looks through their webpage, not noting anything that meant anything to him. He then searches the company name, and scrolls, reading a bit before something jumps out. He clicks the link, reading about how this company was affiliated with Stormcorp. On a whim, he checks the About Us link, and sees the owner listed as Steven Fury. He sits back in his seat, struggling to recall where he had heard that name before.

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair and sets the search engine to work once more. And there he sees it. GWA match results... Steven Fury vs. Danny Starr. The pieces start clicking into place one by one. They all had to be connected somehow, with whatever was going on with the HWA.“Fuck!” He smashes a fist on the steering wheel. He was not normally one to scare easy, but... he casts a baleful eye at the bullet hole in the windshield. Tonight had been a very close call, he had been lucky to escape unscathed. And he was not in the clear yet. He had to get out of here and on the road. He types in a number in his phone, calling one of his foremen. He explains all the crews have paid leave for the next couple weeks, there was a family emergency he had to attend to out of state. As he hangs up, he once again thanks his lucky stars that he is in a position to do such a thing. Too bad all this crap had to come to his doorstep. It was time to revisit the past. He scowls, and inches his pickup to the edge of the road. The coast clear, he heads towards the interstate, turning onto I95 west and putting the pedal to the metal.

Ten long hours later, a weary Sawyer pulls into a small out of the way rest stop in Buffalo NY, parking behind the building out of sight. He rubs his gritty feeling eyes, and steps out of the truck, stretching all the kinks from his muscles. He blinks into the early morning sun. That should be enough distance to be able to stop and take a rest. He hadn't had anything sleep or anything to eat since the afternoon before. His flight west only halted for quick stops to use the bathroom. A thought occurs to him, and he bends over to look under the truck. It didn’t look like there was a tracking device on him. He lets out a sigh of relief. He ruefully runs a hand over a bullet hole in the back door of the full-size pickup, then opens it, and rummages around, coming up with a blanket and extra clothing that he could ball up and use as a pillow for his makeshift bed. He pulls a baseball bat out from under the seat and gives it a twirl. Well, it might not be a gun but at least he wouldn’t go down without a fight. But for now, other things were in order. He walks off towards the little rest stop store and disappears inside.

A few minutes pass, and Sawyer reemerges carrying a large cup of coffee and a brown paper bag. He looks at his pickup, with his company logo on the side sticking out like a sore thumb. Well, nothing he could do for that right now but try to stay out of view when he had to stop. He climbs back into his truck, and places the bag on the passenger seat next to him. He takes a sip of the coffee. It was pretty damn awful, burned and stale... he closes his eyes in bliss. The caffeine was heaven. He opens the bag and removes his egg sandwich. He settles down to his meal, finally feeling a bit relaxed. Finishing, he wipes his hands and then checks the GPS. Only 37 hours to go. He groans. He would catch a quick nap and then hit the trail once more. He couldn’t afford to lose too much of the time between him and Stormcorp. Who knew what kind of resources they had? Especially if Fury and the rest of High Society were mixed in there somehow. He yawns, exhaustion creeping over him. But before he slept, he had something to do. He pulls out his phone and turns it on video mode. He glares directly into the camera.

“This is “The Deadly One” Dan Sawyer... and I got a message for Eric Rayne.”

2020
Diamond Family Manor
Hartford, Connecticut

9 Years, 4 Months, 13 Days Later…

Michael Diamond stands in his study, browsing through the various volumes of books that he’s collected over the years. Some are his personal memoirs, adventures that seem almost fictional in nature… except to those that lived and survived through them.

Michael Diamond: (grabbing a photo album from the shelf) Ah, here it is!

Michael turned to his nine-year-old daughter Scarlett, who sat patiently on the leather couch next to the fireplace. It was Summer time and, so, the fireplace had been months since use… but Scarlett stared deep into the ashes, as if she could envision the very warmth rising from within. She turned at her father’s enthusiastic exclamation, a smile across her lips.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: You found it!?

She slid off to one side of the couch, allowing Michael to sit down next to her. He opened the binder, letting the first few pages fall into place. Scarlett leaned against her father’s shoulders so she could get a better look at the contents within. Diamond smiled down at her, unable to believe at how fast the years had flown by.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: She’s so… pretty, and she looks so… (suddenly getting sad)… happy...

Michael picked up on the change of tone in her daughter’s voice as he looked down at Scarlett, wrapping an arm around her. Diamond looked down at the picture himself, a picture of Cassandra in her wedding dress. 2010, the year that Michael had finally been reunited with his true love; the year that had changed everything. It had taken him nine long years to get to that moment, there always seeming to be some sort of road block or hurdle for him to overcome. He had always wanted that moment to be perfect and, in his mind, it was anything but… yet she had still said “yes”, a testament for just how far the two had come. Through it all, despite all the miles and obstacles, they always found their way back to each other.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: I wish I could’ve been there to see it for myself…

Michael squeezed his daughter tight, not really wanting to explain to her that – in a way – she was present during these ceremonies. In classic Cassandra fashion, she had “one-upped” Michael’s proposal by informing him of their expected arrival, a result of their lustful reunion on the Evanescent. It had felt like a second chance for Diamond, to be the father that he had never gotten to be for Shawn. Finally, it was as if the stars were beginning to align.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: Were these all from Paris…?

Michael nodded his head, recalling how quickly he and Cassandra had rushed to put together the ceremony following the destruction of the Pearl Fusion Corporation. The overall events of his encounter with them had made Diamond realize just how fleeting life was and how he was not willing to waste another second without Cassandra by his side. The whole thing had been like a whirlwind, the proposal – the wedding – the honeymoon. Diamond lost himself in the moment, allowed himself to be the happiest he’d ever been, spending time with his wife… with his son. They had stayed in Paris for the better part of that year, waiting until Shawn had finished with his academic studies before heading back stateside to their home in Hartford.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: What’s this…?

Scarlett had flipped to the next page, showing pictures of a secret construction project Michael had orchestrated, with the help of Starr Enterprises, within the Nepaug State Forest – reconstructing a new home for the Nomalies. Rendered homeless by the demolition of the Black Hole, the Nomalies spent a few months within the Diamond Manor; much to the chagrin of Cassandra. Michael and Shawn bonded over the experience, as Diamond introduced his son to his “second family”. Shawn was amazed at their extraordinary powers and supernatural-like abilities. When the rebuilding was complete in the early stages of 2011, the Black Hole was no more… replaced by the Ethereal Hollow, a brand new castle-like house for the Nomalies. The construction project was completed just in time too, as Michael and Cassandra had just enough time to turn one of their guest rooms into the nursey before they welcomed their new daughter, Scarlett into the world.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: (making a face) I look so… chunky.

Michael Diamond: (laughing) You were our “chunky monkey”, that’s for sure.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: (whining) Dad…

Michael Diamond: What!? You used to like that nickname…

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: Maybe when I was a baby…

Scarlett grumbled over the sight of her baby pictures as she flipped to the next page, looking upon another one of Michael’s construction projects, this one having reached completion in the year of 2012. Prism Research was a state-of-the-art medical facility that specialized in genetic research, Michael having gifted the Lead Researcher title over to his pseudo sister-in-law, Rose Calhoun. Shortly after the birth of his daughter, he had managed to reconnect with Adam and Rose, willing to forgive and forget… starting a new chapter in their family legacy. Rose continued to dive deeper into the research of her father and Michael’s parents, looking to better understand the Genesis serum in hopes of, one day, helping Diamond and the Nomalies better understand their powers. She could never fully “cure” them from what the serum did to their DNA, but she was able to give them more control.

For Saffron, Rose was able to help develop a type of anti-inflammatory that, literally, stopped her from burning down buildings, reducing her painful flame-engulfing body spasms to mere migraines, no fire included. For Ruby, she was finally able to experience emotions on a “human-like” level… which made the first few months rather awkward for her family as they tried to survive her wide range of mood swings. Locke started to regain control of her senses; beginning to see colors once again, smell the wondrous scents the world had to offer, and taste burgers for the first time… which suddenly made her realized that she actually hated the taste of beef and, almost instantly, went vegan. As for Adara, Rose was able to develop a type of ointment that managed to return her translucent-like skin to a softer shade of pale white. With blue-colored contacts, she almost looked human, and could actually venture out into the world without any being the wiser. Most recently, Rose was hard at work with Colt and Saffron. The couple – who had been together following the events of the Pearl Fusion Corporation – had their hopes set on the possibility of having a child of their own, but without any of the genetic defects. Rose was making some progress on the possibility of the two procreating, but it seemed like a slow crawl – discovering that it was a lot harder to remove certain DNA factors than simply adding new ones. Scarlett was familiar with the Nomalies, but Michael wasn’t quite sure if she grasped just how “special” they were, believing she thought what they could do was simply just “magic”.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: Was this when you took me on my first vacation…?

Michael looked down to see Scarlett, impatient as ever, had already moved on to the next page… a photo of the Diamond family together in Paris once more.

Michael Diamond: Yes honey, this was the first time you went with us on an airplane and… (chuckling to himself)… almost the last time, too.

Cassandra, having rebranded her family’s company into the Starr-Diamond Enterprises in 2013, had made arrangements to head overseas once more, taking the company global and setting up a secondary headquarters in Paris, France – her beloved second home. Prior to Michael leaving Hartford, he had put the Nomalies and Adam (now operating under the alias of “Primordial”) in charge of protecting the states, keeping an eye out for any signs of Red Dragons activity. Little did he know just how soon he would be sucked back into the “Shadow War”.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: Dad… who’s this?

Michael found himself looking at a picture of his childhood crush, Liana Xun-Li, the woman with whom he had fought against, saved from a group of assassins, and then had almost killed him in the span of a few minutes the last time the two had met back in 2010. This picture, however, had been taken in 2014, the year the Protectors and Red Dragons finally clashed in their prophetic “Shadow War”.

Michael Diamond: Her name is Liana, honey… she was… my friend.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: What happened to her…?

The “Shadow War” had claimed many lives on both sides, one of which had been Liana’s. Diamond closed his eyes, still able to see the scene in which she had been cut down during the final battle… helpless to have prevented it. He felt his daughter’s hand on his, reassuring him, as if she could see into his mind and feel the pain he felt.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: It’s okay Daddy, we don’t have to talk about it.

Scarlett, unfazed, continued on with the photo album, finding happier memories on the next page.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: It’s Pink Pearl! I love that place!

Scarlett was referring to the private island that Cassandra had purchased in 2015, surprising Michael and the family by adding the “Pink Pearl” to their new domestic properties. With the ever expanding Starr-Diamond Enterprises reaching new heights, she had figured that there had been no better time to drop $500k on the Pink Pearl Island located in Nicaragua, turning their newly purchased paradise into a new vacation home for the family, one they frequented often even to this day. Michael recalled spending the night on the beach with Cassandra, their fifth year wedding anniversary having fallen on the week they had first visited. With Shawn and Scarlett safe in the attentive care of Miguel “The Hunter” Romeo and his wife, Cara “The Huntress” Romero… the two had been free to enjoy the night. The exotic and succulent dinner, the delicious and intoxicating drinks, the starry-skied walk on the coast, the moonlit…

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: Daddy…?

Michael looked back to his daughter, the memory of that night fading from his mind, erasing the Cheshire-like grin with it.

Michael Diamond: Yes…?

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: Is Uncle Danny ever coming back?

Michael followed Scarlett’s gaze to the album, seeing that she had moved onto the next historical event featured. The year was 2016, and it had been ten years since the HWA had closed down. Erin Wallace, on some nostalgic kick, decided to gather the former wrestlers and Hall of Famers for a reunion show. Michael had been apprehensive to go, but saw it as an opportunity to try another way to find the missing Starr. Diamond had never stopped looking for Danny, still looked for him to this day in fact. But every potential lead took him to another, and then another, until he was twisted and turned around so much… he felt like he was stuck in a never-ending maze. Everyone kept telling him that he was dead, to give up hope – even Danny’s own sister, Cassandra, had washed her hands of her brother long ago. He couldn’t blame her, they hadn’t ended things on the best of terms after all… but Michael had seen the change in Danny first-hand, too late it seemed. Had he known that those moments he had with him were to be his last… he wished he could go back in time and done things differently. As suspected, Danny was a no-show and none of the other wrestlers had any inkling of where he could be.

Michael Diamond: I don’t know sweetie, I hope so.

Scarlett had never even gotten to meet her uncle, something that tore at Diamond’s heart. Michael wouldn’t be where he was today if it hadn’t been for the bond he had formed with the Starr family all those years ago. The three were the heart and soul of the FoS, forged together in one fateful encounter with Danny and Cassandra’s drunken father. Never would he have imagined the path that one day would take them down… until Eric Rayne and the High Society derailed everything. How easily they had allowed themselves to be manipulated and deceived, turning on each other when the real threat had been in front of them all along. Michael had long suspected Eric Rayne for having something to do with Danny’s mysterious disappearance but he – like his lost brother – was a ghost.

Scarlett Starr-Diamond: Hey, look! It’s Camilla and I outside the orphanage!

Michael smiled at his daughter, reminded of how excited she is even to this day to go visit her friends at the Diamond Heart Institute with her cousin, Camilla Calhoun. In 2017, Michael and Cassandra had created the Valiant Industries; a non-profit organization that oversaw the newly created Diamond Heart Institute, a place where orphaned children would receive the best possible care money could buy. In addition to the orphanage, they also created the Guardian Angels Foundation, a safe haven for victims of abuse – whether it was physical, sexual, or racial. Diamond had seen enough evil in the world but, with Cassandra’s help, he felt they were finally beginning to turn the tide.

With a sudden gasp, Scarlett dropped the album to the floor and curled back onto the couch, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Diamond looked to his daughter, who was visibly shaken by what she had seen. Leaning down, he pulled the binder back up to him, the page still left open on their 2018 vacation. Michael grimaced as he looked at his daughter, recalling the horror she had endured.

Michael Diamond: It’s okay Scarlett, you’re safe… remember? You’re at home; you’re with family…

The whole ordeal had been traumatizing for the entire family as Cassandra had business to attend to in London, England. The family decided to tag along, thinking they could squeeze a mini-vacation out of it after she had closed on the new property. Problem was… Cassandra had unknowingly encroached on The Royal Thorns stomping grounds, a British gang with ties to drugs and human trafficking. To “send a message”, the group had abducted Scarlett and were holding her for ransom. It had been years since Diamond had gone “Primeval” but this seemed like as good a time as any to bring him back into the spotlight. As a family, they had managed to safely secure Scarlett from further harm… but the damage had been done. Even to this day, she would wake in a cold sweat… screaming. Diamond had turned to Adara to see if she could mend his daughter’s fractured and fragile mind, but it was to no avail as the mental psyche was not so easily swayed.

Michael Diamond: Maybe that’s enough for today…

Diamond closed the binder and placed it on the table before him. He turned back to his daughter as she broke free from her terror long enough to scoot across the couch and wrap her arms around him. He squeezed her tight to him and gave her a kiss on the head, holding her as long as she needed him to.

Scarlett Diamond-Starr: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… (her voice caught in her throat)

Michael Diamond: You have nothing to be sorry for, Scarlett… okay?

Her body started to relax against his touch as she began to calm down. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she looked back up at her Father.

Scarlett Diamond-Starr: (still a little shaky) I just… didn’t like the dark…

Michael wasn’t sure if she meant the dimly lit room that she had been held captive in or the darkness that she had observed within her father during their rescue attempt. It was a side of him that he tried to keep concealed, especially from his family. Cassandra had seen it one time prior all those years ago during their reunion in Paris; witnessed the carefree man that she loved turn into a stone-cold killer at the flip of a switch.

Michael Diamond: Hey, look at me… (holding her face with his hands)… I will never let anything like that happen ever again Scarlett, I promise.

Diamond held her tightly to his chest once more, until she began squirming against his grip, clearly having had enough of this familiar embrace.

Scarlett Diamond-Starr: Okay, okay Dad… you don’t have to “baby” me.

Scarlett got up from the couch and took one last look at the photo album, as if her mind was going back into that place two years ago. Instead, her head whipped around, as if someone called her name, and she began moving towards the doorway.

Michael Diamond: Where are you, going?

Scarlett Diamond-Starr: Dinner will be ready soon; I better go finish my chores before Mom gets mad at me again… (pausing at the doorway and looking back)… I’ll see you downstairs.

Michael laughed to himself as Scarlett disappeared out of sight. He grabbed the photo album and went to put it back into its resting place before it seemed to open up on its own, causing Diamond to pause just for a second. 2019, the one year within the past ten years he hadn’t gotten to with his daughter. He was rather grateful for that, this one just being as dark of a history as he ever had. The terrorist organization known as the Idolatrous had, seemingly, declared war on the world. Diamond had hoped his retirement from his “hero” life would have actually stuck this time around but when Rose mysteriously disappeared, it became personal for him and his family. It was all-hands-on-deck, Michael relying on “The Hunter”, “The Huntress”, the “Primordial”, and the Nomalies… as well as forming an unusual alliance with Tristan Wolfe and his Elite Task Force. He had faced many crises before, but never one on such a global scale. The death toll had been catastrophic in many ways, including those that were allied with Michael. Though they, ultimately, were successful in neutralizing the terrorist threat, it would be the last time Diamond wore the moniker of “The Primeval”… or so he had thought.

As Diamond placed the binder back up onto its proper resting place on the shelf, his phone began to buzz to life. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small device to see the name “Erin Wallace” scroll across the caller ID. She had called many times within the last few hours but he had ignored them, not wanting to rehash any more of their history. Still, something tugged at his consciousness, telling him that he needed to answer…

Michael Diamond: (sighing) Erin… I already told you…

Erin Wallace: (interrupting, crying) He’s dead, Michael… Conner’s dead.

Erin’s words hit him like a ton of bricks as he staggered backwards, slumping into the couch.

Michael Diamond: What…? When…? How…!?

Erin Wallace: You weren’t there… were you? Your name wasn’t on the list of suspects…

Michael swallowed hard, was he to blame for this? What was it that Conner needed to tell him? None of this made any sense.

Michael Diamond: I… wasn’t. I’m so sorry Erin, what happened!? What do you mean “suspects”?

The two now back on track and in Connecticut arrive rather quickly pulling into the driveway of Cassandra and Michael Diamond.

“You wait here I’ll come get you in a few once I know we’re welcome.” Tommy says to Evan and steps out of the truck. Skulking to the front door fully aware of the uncertainty he was about to be greeted with. He gathers himself and rings the doorbell.

Expecting to come face to face with Michael or Cassandra instead a young girl opens the door.

“What do you want?” She asks.

“Hey kid, I’m Tommy, where’s.”

“He’s not here.” She responds cutting him off. “But you can come in moms in the kitchen.”

Erin Wallace: Something is very wrong, Michael; haven’t you been following the news? It’s like someone is targeting former HWA members.

Diamond’s world began to spin, first Fudge… now Conner? Former HWA members… targets, for whom? What crazy new threat was this that Michael now had to face? Not just Diamond though, Cassandra – too – had been a part of the HWA. Michael pulled himself to his feet, making his way out of the study.

Michael Diamond: Erin, you need to tell me everything you know… now!

Erin began explaining all she knew but her words fell on deaf ears as Diamond’s heart nearly stopped beating, his gaze going down the hallway to see his daughter standing in the entry way, a strange man standing before her. The next few moments were a blur as Michael didn’t recall hanging up on Erin or walking the length of the hall, instead finding himself face-to-face with this mystery man, his hand around his throat.

Michael Diamond: (slamming the man into the wall) Who are you!? What do you want!?

Tommy grabs at his throat, eyes wide, completely taken off guard expecting a much warmer welcome. “It’s” Tommy Gasps “Me”

Michael kept his grip steadfast, looking directly into the man’s face, studying his features. The man spoke the words like they should mean something to him. Diamond cast a sidelong look to warn his daughter to stay back, only to see her already walking out of the hallway, mumbling something about “helping Mom in the kitchen”. Michael looked back to his unexpected guest, the man’s words still rattling in his head. Something seemed familiar about him, but what he didn’t know. He tried to piece together what Erin had been talking to him moments before… about the HWA… about attacks on its former members. Though the conversation had drifted into white noise at the sight of someone standing before his daughter, one name stood out above all else.

Michael Diamond: (accusingly) Who sent you? Was it Eric Rayne!?

Cassandra has just finished putting dinner in the oven as Scarlett came dashing through the doorway. Cassandra was startled at the sight of her daughter visibly shaken.

Cassandra: Scarlett what is a matter, I just heard a loud bang?

Scarlett: Mom, you have to go now, dad has some guy by the throat at the end of the hall.

Cassandra trying to absorb what Scarlett just said, went running down the hall to see who was lucky enough to be in Michaels grasp.

Cassandra screamed : Michael!!!! Let him go. That’s Tommy Romeo

Michael looked to Cassandra, then to Romeo, then back to Cassandra again.

Michael Diamond: (confused)… who's Tommy Romeo?

Cassandra ran over pulling Michaels hand off of Tommy’s throat. Putting herself between the two men.

Cassandra: From the HWA Michael?! He was in FOS with us and Danny...?! For goodness sakes, your memory is getting worse and worse

Tommy bent over grabbing at his throat finally catches his breath and stands up. “For fucks sake at least one of you recognized me. “Still have a hell of a grip on you. I’m sure I’ll have bruises on my throat for the camera now. How have you been Cass?” Tommy says turning his nose up at Michael and looking to Cass.

Giving the death stare to Michael for attempting to kill Romeo in their hallway. She moved her attention to Romeo.

Cass: Please excuse my husband Tommy, we are all a little on edge with what’s been happening with the former HWA members. It is so good to see you. Been awhile...

“I haven’t been sent by Rayne you don’t have to worry.” Tommy says looking at Cass “I’m here cuz the team with the plan ran into a little trouble. But I got the big guns anyway.” Tommy smiles turning back to Michael. “How much do you guys know? Kevin Conner is dead and so are a bunch of other people.”

Diamond stood back reluctantly, watching his wife interact with someone who had, apparently, been in the FoS with them many years ago. For the life of him, he couldn't remember who this "Romeo" was but, then again, Michael typically didn't pay much attention to all the "extras" Danny brought in from time-to-time. For Diamond, the FoS had always just been him, Cass, and Danny.

Michael Diamond: I know about Fudge... just heard about Conner... (eyes narrowing in suspicion)... what brings you to our humble abode Mr. Romeo?

“It’s time to take up the fight ourselves man.” Ive been to see a bunch of us. Damien, Sett, Syren , for fucks sake I flew to Europe and convinced Ron Royalty to come back. Now it’s your turn and I’m not taking no for an answer. One night stand for all the marbles. The HWA is at stake.”

Diamond looked to Cassandra, doing his best to stifle his laughter.

Michael Diamond: You're kidding... right? The HWA died 14 years ago Romeo, I should know... I was there at the end. Whatever this thing is, doesn't concern us.

Diamond's face grew dark and serious as he remembered his conversation with Erin just moments before.

Michael Diamond: In fact, just your presence here alone has no doubt put a target on myself and the lives of my family. And if you were in FoS, like Cass says you were, you know that family is all that matters. I don't know what - exactly - is going on here, but I'll figure it out and deal with it in my own way, like I've always done.

“My man my presence here hasn’t put your family in any more danger than you guys were already in. If anything doesn’t your presence put your family in danger? I know I’m not the first one to talk to you. I know others have reached out to you. Eric Rayne has to be taken down and this is our path to make it happen.” Tommy stares Michael dead in the face and nods at the end of his statement for dramatic effect then cracks a grin. “Sooo serious about everything all the time.”

Michael listened to Romeo's words, fighting the urge to throw him out of the mansion. Upon the mention of a single name, Diamond's eyes went wide.

Michael Diamond: Wait... Eric Rayne!?

“Yes Eric Rayne who else, you clearly know less than I thought.” Tommy Pulls his phone from his pocket and opens the invitation from Eric Rayne video then tosses it to Michael. Turning his attention back to Cass “how have you been, where has your brother been? It’s been years!”

Cass looking at Michael as she knew the name Eric Rayne would bring rage to him after everything he put Michael, Danny and their family through. She took a breath and focused her attention on Romeo trying to recall what he just asked.

Cass smiling : It’s been much to long Romeo. We have been .. good. You met our daughter Scarlett and Shawns 18 this year. As far as Danny goes, I haven’t seen him since I left for France back in 2005. We wanted to invite him to our wedding, but he up and vanished without a way to contact him. So your guess is as good as mine.

A voice is heard coming from the front door and footsteps approach from down the hall. Tommy quickly turns to Michael “Its fine, no need to freak out.” As Evan Blane appears from the hallway.

As Evan comes in to view, he begins pulling down the hood of his sweatshirt so Michael and Cassandra can see his face. "Michael. Cass. It's been a while."

While Cass and Romeo conferred amongst themselves, Diamond had immersed himself in the video of Eric Rayne issuing the challenge to former HWA members. Seeing the man that had caused him so much pain so long ago made his blood boil. Despite Diamond's extensive resources, Eric had managed to elude him all these years. But now... Michael had a time and a place on which he could finally confront this man; finally get some answers. At the conclusion of the video, Diamond threw the cell phone to the ground, shattering it. He had temporarily forgotten the phone wasn't his to break, looking now at the trio before him. Wait... trio?

Michael Diamond: (shocked) Evan? Evan Blane!? When did you get here?

Diamond looked from Evan, to Cassandra, to Romeo, down to the shards of the broken cell phone, then back up to Tommy.

Michael Diamond: ... I'll buy you a new one Timothy.

Evan flashes a smirk towards Michael and Cassie "You know me old friend. Always around when a problem needs fixing. Cass, looking good as always."

Cass glared at Michael as he completely butchered Romeos name.

Cass sighed: Its Tommy...Michael

Cass turned her attention to Evan letting out a half smile at his compliment.

Cass: Evan, it’s so good to see you. Not going to lie, this is all a big surprise

Evan turns and looks at Tommy "Dude, what happened to just knocking on the door like a normal person?"

“I did! And their daughter let me in and let me straight to Michaels. Then he fucking choked me!” Tommy shoots a glare at Evan then at Michael. “ You fucker!”

Cass trying time diffuse the situation raises her arms in front of her

Cass: okay, okay boys let’s focus

Tommy considers the probability of catching Michael off gaurd and returning the favor for earlier but decides to let it be for the moment. “You get everything you needed to know from the video?”

Diamond didn't quite like the tone in Tommy's voice, despite the fact that he had legitimate reason to be upset.

Michael Diamond: In my defense, Romero... I did just get off the phone with Erin Wallace, warning me that my family might be in danger... (turning to Cass)... speaking of which, you don't seem too freaked out by that.

Evan says playfully "Of course she is. She's Danny's sister, there's been a target on her since the beginning. Downside of being a Starr. Am I right?"

“You spoke to Erin where is she is she okay?” Tommy’s demeanor changes from anger to concern. “I saw her just after Kevin was shot. She was a mess, I’ve been worried sick.”

Evan just glares at Tommy "Hey, lover boy. Let's focus, we got a plan to formulate here."

Diamond shifts uncomfortably, knowing that the topic of "Erin Wallace" was not one spoken of very often within these walls. Michael tried to avoid Cassandra's gaze as he responded to Tommy's inquiry.

Michael Diamond: I met up with Erin in Florida while investigating Fudge's death. She tried to get me to go meet up Conner... told me that he had something to show me. I turned her down however, my history with her is complicated enough without throwing Kevin into the mix. But now that he's dead...

Michael paused, looking upon each of their faces. There was so much he didn't understand about all of this. Why would anyone consider the HWA or its superstars a "threat" nearly fifteen years after its demise. Part of him was skeptical to trust any of this, or anyone... but the other part looked around the room and recognized the faces standing briefly him. Yes... even Romeo's.

Michael Diamond: We were FoS... we ARE FoS... and if Eric Rayne thinks he can come in and destroy apart of the legacy that we built, then he's about to be in for a rude awakening. We don't back down from anyone because together...

Michael scans their faces once more, his gaze falling to an empty place in the hall where their fifth and final member would've stood.

Michael Diamond: ... we're unstoppable.

Blane looks at Michael with a confident look and says sternly "We will end this. Rayne thinks he in a position of power. Clearly he forgot who we are. Let's remind him of what a unified front can do."

Cass smiling remembering what the FOS meant to her and what it meant to Danny. Together there was nothing that could touch us. If the HWA was under siege, despite any differences they would defeat this.
A look of disappointment washing over Cass face

Cass: I just wish Danny was here to see this... We will destroy Rayne, and anyone he’s involved with.

Danny walks off from the Surrogate Avatar stage in his office, peeling the black dots off of his facial expression as he walks to his desk. The phone begins to ring and he lets it go, only accepting phone calls from the encrypted cellular phone. He hears the ringing reach a forth one and after the beep, the other person begins to speak. It's Alicia Sinn.

"Hey Danny, it's your boss. Remember me? I'm the one you're continually ignoring or blowing off, and also, by happenstance, the one with the power to light your whole ass on fire for ignoring or blowing off. So it seems odd to me that you would be here, continuing to ignore me or blow me off, doesn't it? I'm sure this is my fault, somehow. Am I not leaving my messages with the right secretary? Should I be calling up your stormtrooper brigade instead, maybe leave a message with Chief Meathead or whatever his name is? I've been hearing rumors, Danny, rumors I must say don't leave me pleased. When people are going missing and fingers start getting pointed in the general direction of my company, well, then I simply have to respond in kind. Furthermore, if I have employees off on some ridiculous lark involving a pro wrestling event, of all things, and spending all of my money to do it? Well, Danny, I have to say - I just hope a certain celestially surnamed someone isn't the next person that goes missing. Get your shit together Danny. Call me back. Soon."

Danny realizes the event is happening. He has failed to thwart the resistance. With anxiety rising inside of him, Danny feels a heaviness pulling his shoulders down against his will to sit upright. He wants to collapse in on himself and hide from the world he's created as it disintegrates around him. He is trapped and the feeling of being stuck freezes him in thought as his options out of all of this begin to fade away. He can't escape it now- he contemplates surrender; something he would rather die than do.

He breathes purposely slower to calm his increasing heart rate, attempting to control his desperate anxiousness from consuming him. He opens a desk drawer and reaches passed a handgun to grasp a bottle of whiskey hidden in the back. He pours the pens and pencils from a glass atop his desk and fills the glass half empty, immedietely drinking what he poured in a single swallow. He pours another.

A knock at the door and on his surveillance he see's it's a Stormcorp. Operative. He presses the intercom asking "What is it?" and the Soldier looks up to the camera and says, "Intel report."

"Very well." Danny says, unlocking the door from a switch under his desk. The door opens and SC003 walks in, a mask covering his face to hide his identity, the common standard of the group.

"What is it?" Danny asks.

"We have received word that the computers were destroyed in the HWA Raid, but..." 003 stutters.

"But What?" Danny becomes stern.

"A USB had slipped through the cracks and provided to an Erin Wallace." 003 informs him.

"Where is it now?" Danny asks, patiently controlling his anger.

"Our pings caught a triangulation with our other target." 003 states.

"Which?" Danny asks through his teeth.

"Romeo, sir." 003 regretfully musters out.

Danny breathes through his nose as he processes this worst case scenario coming to fruition.

"Give Maxem the go to pull out all of the stops." Danny says, "Give him the order to nuetralize Romeo before he is able to release the USB."

"Loud and clear, Sir." 003 nods and walks out of the office as Danny waits quietly. A moment passes after the door closes again and Danny erupts, using both hands to swipe his desk top of it's contents violently.

"What the FUCK!?" Danny explodes in a furious release of rage. He begins punching his desk in the same place over and over until his knuckles begin to bleed, the wood breaking apart a little more with each hit until finally, Danny falls to his chair, winded and at his breaking point.

The bottle that had fallen to the floor, luckily didn't shatter, and he reaches down for it. His loss of control now given a bandaid as he swigs directly from the bottle itself. He's returned to his own father's vice to quell his frustrations.

He drinks until it's empty... too fast... no food before... and he's fallen drunk, bitter, and losing his mind as the house of cards begin to crumble onto him. He lays his head down, defeated, his eyes close and he hopes to die then and there but instead, a familiar, unwelcome voice startles him awake.

"Danny..." the soft voice he recognizes.

"Jenn..." Danny lifts his face up- his world is blurry, "It can't be..."

"Danny..." the voice speaks again, his eyes seeing a woman's form taking focus across his wall of screens.

"I hear you..." Danny slurs, "Jenn... Jenn..."

"Look what you did..." Jenn says, "You were supposed to be a changed man..."

"I am..." Danny feels warm tears gathering in his eyes, "I was..."

"You lied to me..." Jenn begins to cry herself, "You are a monster!"

"No!" Danny begs, "I didn't- things just happened too fast!"

"You lied to us all..." Jenn's voice begins to distort and the woman's image finally comes into focus, but it's not Jenn.

"You..." Danny is confused.

"Why did you lie to me?" Monica asks from the screen, her voice also distorted between hers and Jenns, "I sacrificed everything for you!"

"I'm sorry..." Danny pleades, "I felt betrayed... I thought you had betrayed me..."

"You were never happy..." Monica/Jenn's combined voices echo, "All you could see... was... your own... pain."

"That's not true!" Danny stands up, holding his wobbling body up with both hands from his desk top. "I loved you both!"

"You loved... nothing..." Their voices harmonize, "You've loved... no one..."

and to Danny's surprise their images collapse into each other, leaving a black screen before him. He stares, waiting for them to come back but dead silence.

"Wha-" Danny tries to make sense of it, yearning for either of their voices, when suddenly.

"All you've ever loved was... Power." The clear voice of Eric Rayne breaks the silence to Danny's dismay, "Power... and control..."

Danny is furious to hear the voice.

"No..." Danny denies it. and the black screens now share their spaces to make up Eric Rayne's smirking face.

"Don't hide from who you are, Danny." Eric advises, "The truth always leaks back into reality no matter how hard you try to mask it."

"I'm not a monster." Danny remains adament, "You were!"

"That's true." Eric agrees, "But, you always knew that didn't you? And yet... you modeled your entire career, your entire life to mirror mine. Every step of your journey was a choice that you believed brought you closer to a legacy like mine. You wanted nothing more than to be Eric Rayne, what, with all the influence and power and... control."

"That changed." Danny argues.

"Yes." Eric agrees, "And yet, here you are. In my desk. In my office. Taking the controls that I could have only dreamed of acquiring. You even fucked my girl."

"I'm nothing like you..." Danny argues again but Eric laughs.

"You're worst than me." Eric returns, "You've done all of the things I failed to do and despite your success you have nothing to show for it. As far as the world is concerned... Eric Rayne destroyed the Left Hand. Eric Rayne took control of the Circle. Eric Rayne destroyed the HWA and Danny Starr simply ceases to exist."

"I do exist." Danny reminds Eric's ghost.

"Do you?" Eric asks.

"I'm still alive." Danny says, "You're dead."

"Dead, yes." Eric agrees, "But what is death to a legacy? You see, Danny.. you've wanted to be the king but you've always been just a pawn."

"Shut up!" Danny becomes angry.

"You've never had control." Eric berates him, "That's why your sister abandoned you. That's why Michael has forgotten you."

"I said Shut up!" Danny erupts.

"Did you think Sett would be your friend after you killed his one and only? Of course not! It was easy to lie to you about betraying the HWA! You can't have friends! Nobody has ever been able to count on you! Look at Tommy Romeo! Even he knew you were a clown!"

"Shut up, you son of a bitch!" Danny explodes, "You're wrong!"

"Am I?" Eric asks, "That's why you've always been the victim in your own mind. Too blind to see the truth. You are your father. You are just a pawn and even with absolute power- with this god-like technological advantage you are still out-manuevered by Erin Wallace, nonetheless."

"I said SHUT UP!" Danny launches the empty bottle of whiskey at the screen, shattering the image of Eric's right eye. Eric simply smiles unphased by it.

"You are every bit of the monster you claimed I was." Eric says, "and more so. It won't be long now before you are humiliated in front of the entire world by the same company you did ALL of this for. Your friends, your colleagues, those who you sacrificed everything for have now become your headhunters. They will expose you... they will humiliate you... and then, they will imprison you for all of your crimes. Not a single thing you have done will be celebrated... you'll be loathed and then forgotten as you rot away."

Danny sits, realizing Eric's words are truth. He reaches into the drawer and finds the handgun, retrieving it, and puts it to the side of his head. A tear falls from his eye as he looks at Jenn once last time.

"That's right, Danny." Eric approves, "It's your only choice now."

Danny cocks the gun. He feels the cold muzzle against the skin of his temple and puts his finger on the trigger.

"Don't hesistate. Don't be afraid." Eric persuades him, "Think of those you've destroyed... think of those you've hurt. Sett, Michael, Cassandra... think of Heather and Monica and Jenn... Think of Tommy and Evan Blane's betrayal.. think of Ron Royaltys betrayal... think of the HWA and how you lead it into it's demise. It's all your fault, Danny... now, do it..."

Danny lets the gun fall from his head, and puts it on the table.

"What are you doing?" Eric asks, "Fine! Let Alicia send a hit squad after you. Either way, it's the same result."

"Eric Rayne will not get credit for what I have accomplished." Danny says, wiping his tears away, "Eric didn't destroy the HWA. I did. I'm the one who had the chance to bring it back and chose not to! Because of their betrayals."

"What good will any of it do now!" Eric reminds Danny, "It's over! You're at the end of your rope!"

"So be it." Danny says, "If that's true... I want Sett to suffer for his lies! I want Romeo and Blane to suffer for their ignorance! The HWA has turned against the very person who avenged it! They will all suffer too. but most of all, Royalty will watch the HWA suffer and then, he and the entire world will know it was Danny Starr that hammered in the final nail in it's coffin."

"What good that will do when it lands you in jail and ultimately killed!" Eric reminds him. Danny picks the gun up and aims it at the receiver controlling the wall of television screens.

"What's death to a legacy?" Danny returns his own words.

"And what of Michael and Cassandra?" Eric questions.

"In the end, they'll always return to the FOS." Danny says, "They'll always return to me."

Danny unloads the pistol's bullets into the receiver. The wall of screens turning black one by one, Eric's image disappearing until finally, it's gone.

The scene opens up in Santa Monica Blvd, Los Angeles, zooming in on a bar with the title card out from showing that is called “Pleasant Jack’s”. Inside we see the bartender, who also owns the place, Grimjack. Grimjack has his dreadlocks pulled back in a pony tail and his hairline is pushed back bit, farther perhaps than a man with such a hairstyle should have, it seems the decade and a half since we last saw him have taken their toll. A man of late 30s or early 40s, hard to say, he is still well muscled but has lines on his face that show he has seen a lot of things. The place is empty but Grimjack, also known as Marion Smith, is seen leaning on the bad counter and looking at his cell phone. He has youtube open and is checking the news. He sees a video, one where it shows former professional wrestler Unknown Ninja has been killed. Someone named Eric Rayne has announced this. Grimjack at first just looks at this, in disbelief. He grabs one of his glasses and throws it full force across the room where it shatters.

Grimjack: This can’t be . . .

He sees a video below it related to this and clicks. It shows breaking news that the home of professional wrestler The Chosen One has burned down and while he was not there at the time, his wife was and has perished. Visibly angry, Grimjack clicks on yet another video. It is another news report announcing that two HWA legends Hollywood D and Mortgoth died in a car that burst into flames. The news report says it is unconnected to other deaths recently reported.

Grimjack: Unconnected my ass . . .

He gets up away from the bar and heads to the restroom. He takes a piss then goes to the sink to clean his hands. He looks up into the mirror.

Grimjack: What is going on. I knew these guys. Why now? Someone is taking out masks, I mean wrestlers . . . maybe he’s back?

Suddenly behind Grimjack in the mirror he sees an older looking man, wearing long white robes.

Grimjack: Nostradamus!

Nostradamus: The time is now.

Grimjack: All those years ago . . . I . . .

Nostradamus: Yes all through the ages I give prophecies. You stopped listening though.

Grimjack: TCO, Morgoth . . . they were Aftermath . . .

Nostradamus: Yes? After . . . math? What happens after math?

Grimjack: . . . I don’t know. Damnit you’re not making sense. You’re not real! People are dying, what does it mean? Why?

Nostradamus: What does it mean, exactly. Do you want to know?

Grimjack: Yes! I need to know!

Nostradamus: It is unknown . . . do you know why?

Grimjack: Unknown . . . Unknown Ninja! He was killed too. But why. Did he know something?

Nostradamus: Do you remember what I told you when we first met?

Grimjack: Yes! That I should take over the world or it would end on February 10th, 2001! That never happened, it was bullshit! You made me look like a laughing stock.

Nostradamus: But you did take over the HWA. The “Hardcore Wrestling Association” With the annotation three thousand. February 10th, 2001. Two, ten, two thousand and one. 2+ 10+ 2001 is what?

Grimjack: 2013, so what?

Nostradamus. Add 3 plus zero plus zero plus zero to that.

Grimjack: 2016?

Nostradamus: Now, how many have died?

Grimjack: Unknown Ninja, Hollywood D, Morgoth . . . and TCO’s wife! Four!

Nostradamus: Exactly. That makes what?

Grimjack: 2016 plus four is . . . no . . . not now . . . all this time. But why?

Nostramus: Why isn’t the question. There are no questions besides what are you going to do about it?

Grimjack: I have to stop this killing. No one else can die. This is my legacy. But why me? What can I do? It was so long ago. I can’t remember anything about HWA, I don’t know who or why these people are being killed.

Nostradamus: Do you remember your last night in HWA?

The scene goes to Grimjack’s memories. It is July 10th, 2005, a Saturday night in New York City. An HWA match is beginning. Trent Brown and Keith Kincaid are the announcers for a match between Grimjack, El Dorado and Peter Octavian.

TB: Folks, a couple of shocking matches so far tonight, what on earth ELSE could happen?

Suddenly, Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix hits. The lights go down to a dark purple feel. The crowd look to the ramp way, but nobody is to be seen.

TB: What the hell?

The music cuts after about 10 seconds, and the lighting returns to normal.

TB: I don't get it. What on earth was that all about?

Eldorado's music hits and gradually the three match participants arrive at the ring.

TB: This is an elimination match, the winner is the only one who keeps their HWA contract.

We're underway and Grimjack is, as usual, stoned off his head. Octavian quickly gets a pin and Grimjack's contract becomes null and void.

TB: Truly a shame to see a legend reduced to this.

Eldorado puts up a little more of a fight, but not a whole lot more. Three minutes later and Octavian is the winner. Eldorado's return to the HWA proved to be short lived. Octavian keeps his HWA contract.

Grimjack: Yes I never recovered from that. They fired me and I retired from wrestling. I never knew why I felt so weak and lost to those scrubs. Sure I was high but I was always high and that never effected me negatively before.

Nostradamus: Did you notice anything odd about that match?

Grimjack: It was odd that that song Purple Haze played right before the match . . . wait a minute . . . I should have known David Jackson . . . if he is behind this . . . Ron Royalty’s step brother . . . I wondered how he ever got control of the HWA but . . .

Nostradamus: There is a lot you missed after you left the HWA.

Grimjack: It doesn’t matter. I know enough. If he has something to do with this I have to warn the rest of the HWA’s old roster. They’re all targets now.

Nostradamus: You have to retake control over HWA and from there you can take control of the-

Grimjack: Shut up! It doesn’t matter!

Suddenly a crack of thunder hits outside and it starts raining out. Grimjack hears it and leaves the bathroom to go look out the window of his bar. He sees the cars driving by and sending water up onto the sidewalk.

Grimjack: What did happen while I was gone . . . I watched from home . . .

These scene in Grimjack’s memories shows a sunday night, March 26th, 2006 in Manchester New Hampshire. The last HWA event to occur. The last match is Kevin Conner, Kevin Hurts and C4 vs Sett in a handicap match.

Grimjack: Conner . . . my friend . . . the Swiss Army Apple Company . . . the Legacy Department! My legacy!

The scene shows the end of the match, where TCO comes out to help his ally Sett. TCO cleans house, but then Eric Rayne comes out to confront him. Ron Royalty comes out to stop Eric Rayne but then he attacks Sett out of nowhere.

Just then, Royalty kicks Sett and sets him up for the Crowning, impacting him hard to the mat.

TB: WHAT THE HELL?!!??!

KK: OH… MY… ROYALTY JUST HIT SETT, THE PRESIDENT, WITH THE CROWNING?

The crowd boos in disbelief… as Royalty climbs to his feet looking around with a look of malice designed on his face.

TB: This CANNOT be happening…

KK: Royalty just… he just…

TB: He just sold his soul to the devil, Keith…

RR: Yeah, go ahead boo all you like.

The boos rain down with incredible volume and intensity. After all, Ron Royalty has always been the ultimate good guy in the HWA.

RR: Where were you? Where were ANY of you when I needed you? Where were you when my own half brother - David Jackson - STOLE this business from me? This business which I built from scratch. You couldn't give a shit about any of that could you. As long as there's a HWA, who cares who runs it, right? WRONG. DEAD wrong in fact. This was my life's work! MY LIFE'S WORK dammit, and right now I have nothing to show for it. Not a damn penny. You all saw to that. I had a choice to make, one in which i had to exchange this company for my daughter's freedom. She was held hostage! Yes! My own half brother forced that decision from me, he took what was mine. After I lost the HWA, did anyone call or come to see me? No. Did anyone even try to find out WHY THE FUCK I EVEN RELUINQUISHED CONTROL OF THE HWA!? NO! Not ONE of you miserable pricks even bothered to email me! Well FUCK YOU!

Grimjack shakes his head waking up from his nostalgic dream. He looks back out the window to the water swirling down into the sewer.

Grimjack: What was Ron talking about. I searched for him. All through London and then traced him back to LA. Me and Conner were the only ones that cared. It never made sense. I should have realized. David Jackson . . . he had control from Ron, he drove Ron mad . . .

Ron Royalty continues to talk in Grimjack’s memories.

RR: Together, Eric and I are rebuilding this company, we're going to turn it back into something worth fighting for. Something worth... LIVING for. See, getting Danny Starr suspended was the lynch pin in a very finely designed machine. With the HWA's biggest Hero out indefinitely, it meant his former mentor could return! What a genius!

Eric Rayne extends his hand and Ron shakes it, before hugging Eric Rayne right in the centre of the ring. Ron and Eric then both start putting the boots in to Sett. Giving the big man a kicking of a life time.

Grimjack shakes his head again, as if realizing something horrifying.

Grimjack: Rayne . . . he was the one announcing Unknown Ninja died . . . .how did he know . . . he has some connection to David Jackson. He has some connection to these killings of HWA legends! I have to warn them all!

Grimjack stops and puts his fingers to his chin, deep in thought.

Grimjack: I can’t be the only one to have realized this.

DING! A notification bell plays on Grimjack’s phone. He looks at it to see a nother video pertinent to the HWA has been uploaded to youtube.

Grimjack: What! Don’t tell me -

He watches the video to see the FBI is announcing Bigg Money has been killed.

Grimjack: Who? Wait! One half of the Dollar Denomination Duo with Pocket Change. This can’t just all be a scam for money can it?

Grimjack keeps watching the video as Breaking News shows a burning boat. It is announced Fudge was pronounced dead once brought to land. Grimjack’s countenance quickly changes at hearing his old friend perished. Grimjack remembers one of his happier moments, back on Sunday February 2nd, 2003. An arena in Detroit where Grimjack was to have a match with Fudge . . .

'Superstar' by Saliva hits and out walks none other than Fudge. He is surprised that some fans are booing him because of how he has been treating their hero Diamond. Fudge ignores it and he gets into the ring and starts hopping around, warming up for what expects to be a big match, although he is ready for it.

TB: Fudge looks real focused here. I think Grim might be in for it because he didn’t seem focused earlier, he has too much to worry about.

One Armed Scissor hits and Grimjack walks out onto the stage with a mic in hand. He’s just wearing faded blue jeans and a tie die shirt though. He has a mic.

Grimjack: Fudge . . . the last time we fought you were Da Fudgsta and I destroyed you. Now look at you, you’ve accomplished a lot more than I have. As much as I would like to see if I’m still the better man I can’t. I forfeit this match to you Fudge because number one I think you deserve to go on and number two I don’t want to. I can tell this tournament is very important to you, but I just don’t give a damn! Let’s see what Jackson thinks about this!

Grimjack again wakes up from his nostalgic memory while it continues to rain outside.

Grimjack: Fudge later won that tournament, beating Conner, and got a title match with Michael Diamond. He was great. They called him Fudge because they thought he fudged the numbers, he was a fudge factor . . . it was math! The simple math. That’s not four then. Unknown Ninja . . . Morgoth, Hollywood D, TCO’s wife, Bigg Money . . . now Fudge. That’s 6. That’s where I have to go!

The scene fades back out, and fades back in to the luxurious Beverly Hilton in downtown Los Angeles. A high prices hotel reserved for celebrities. The rain has let up. Just down the street however is a more discount choice, a Motel 6. We see Grimjack arriving in the parking lot and getting out of his Range Rover, leaving the door open and running into the motel’s lobby. He goes to the front desk clerk and nervously rings the bell.

Grimjack: Tell me man, I’m looking for a . . . friend. Has anyone just arrived.

Desk Clerk: Um what do you mean. I can’t answer that-

Grimjack slips a fold of hundred dollar bills over the counter. He looks the desk clerk in the eye.

Grimjack: You and I both know that’s bullshit. I’m looking for someone who just got here, someone who looks like they’re smarter than most, someone who is here on business.

The desk clerk grabs the money, looking side to side and slips it into his pocket.

Desk Clerk: Ok ok . . . someone did just get here, a couple of guys actually. They’re down the hall in room 7. Is this some sort of convention for weirdos or something?

Grimjack: Thanks!

Tommy and Evan after a multi day cross country road trip pull into the parking lot of the skeevy motel 6. Romeo thinking he was slick had made a reservation at the Beverly Hilton and before moving on down the street checked in to the room and immediately left for the motel 6 where he and Evan would be staying. After grabbing their bags from the truck and getting their keycards from the lobby the two enter their room and throw their belongings onto their respective beds. Tommy exhausted from driving jumps onto the bed and immediately flops onto his back.

“God I could sleep for days.” He notes to Evan and closes his eyes just to spring back out of bed with a banging at the door.

“Who the fuck is that?” Tommy whispers as he approaches the door and sticks his eye up to the peephole.

“Who is it?” Evan asked.

Tommy then cautiously opens the door to reveal Grimjack standing in front of him.

“I know you you're Grimjack.... umm hey bro how did you find us? You know what nevermind come in and close the door behind you. I was gonna come look for you anyway. Less work this way.” Grimjack steps into the room extremely excited to see Romeo and Blane

“How did you know we were here man? I specifically booked a room at the Hilton to throw people off of our trail.”

“I thought about it but why would you go to the Hilton if you were trying to draw me out. Well someone was trying to draw me out and I’m glad it’s you. Someone’s clearly targeting us. But if they wanted me dead they would have hit me at my bar. I don’t have a lot of money these days which helps me lay low. I drove by that Hilton and I could smell hit men hired by an asshole there so either I was going to head into a trap there, or I was going next door here, to formulate a plan. And you could just say that I have a sixth sense to tell me these things. I trust my instincts.”

Blane turns and looks at Tommy and slaps him in the back and says "See someone who trusts their instincts. He knew he was being watched. I tell you we are being watched and I get dismissed."

Tommy flinches as Evan slaps him and motions to Grimjack to have a seat. “It’s funny you found us man, we were gonna come looking for you after we settled in” Tommy jumps onto his bed again bouncing a bit like a child then settling in. Again dismissing Evans theory that they were being followed. “Your totally blowing my mind right now. You know the HWA is having an event tonight right?

Grimjack comes and sits at a chair that’s to the side of the TV. “Forget that, have you seen how someone’s taking out HWA ex members? They killed Kevin Conner for one. I’m here to find out why. And who. It’s no coincidence the HWA is having an event for the first time in damn near 20 years. I don’t know you guys that well but you have HWA in your blood, I know that. Who is this guy Eric Rayne? Telling obvious lies and saying Fudge died in an accident. Now you may not know this but I ran the Legacy Department, and I ran the HWA. We had fights for money but we never cowardly sniped people out or blew up their boats. Do you guys have any leads?”

Grimjack is visibly pissed off.

"I think I will let Tommy field this. You're up slugger." Blane says sheepishly as he goes and sits down on the other side of the room and pulls out a flask and takes a couple swigs of whiskey.

Grimjack notices the flask.

“Hey what’re you drinking? I run a bar you know.”

Blane looks up from the flask chokes out the words "Jack?"

“Good shit. Good idea to loosen up because we might have to do some despicable deeds tonight. After this is over, if we’re still alive, your both invited to my place, drinks on the house.”

Blane grinning closes the flask and tosses it to Grimjack and says, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

“You had a flask? This whole time? We drove across country and never once did you mention you had booze.” Tommy shakes his head dissapointed. Then looks back at Grimjack. “ Yeah we know people have been getting taken out. Eric Rayne is the current owner of the HWA the stakes tonight are high. We all need to be there and ensure this is al out to an end.”

Grimjack takes a swig.

“Do you have any leads on who is working for him? I don’t like running in there blind. The guys that I saw on youtube that attacked Conner’s compound or whatever it was, they looked familiar. I think it was the Storm Corporation. Their ex-CIA and I saw them in Iraq and Afghanistan. I say that because it makes sense that a guy named Rayne would be involved with mercs named Storm. And I don’t know why Conner was hanging out with Zack Tyler but the one thing they would have had in common was underworld contacts. If I’m correct what we’re dealing with is some of the worst killers in the world. Trained. Experienced. No mercy. And now they’re having an HWA event where they expect us to all congregate into one place and be served on a platter. It’s going to be a god damn turkey shoot. If I’m going in there I need to know you guys have my back.”

Grimjack takes another swig and tosses the flask to Tommy, who catches it like a boss.

“I’d rather have a clear head tonight.” Tommy tosses the flask to Evan. “I’ve picked up some pretty good backup along the way my friend. Damien says he’s not coming but You got Sett, Syren, Tristan, Ron Royalty himself, and of course. The Foundation of Sensation sans Danny Starr all fighting for the HWA.”

Blane takes a swig from the flask "Wait, shouldn't we at least tell Grim?" Blane tosses the nearly empty flask to Grimjack.

Grimjack raises it to his mouth but before he finishes, he lower it, "Tell me what?"

A loud explosion is heard followed by a shockwave that rattles the motel rooms windows. Tommy hits the deck, it being his first reaction after everything he’s been through thus far. Grim and Evan stand there staring at him thinking it to be an overreaction untill bullets start to whiz through the room and nearly clipping Evan in the leg.

Blane screams "JESUS CHRIST! GET DOWN!"

Tommy by this point was kind of expecting something of the sort and had finally come prepared for the situation. Crawling to the bed and pulling a long plastic case out from underneath, popping the clasps on either end and flipping it open to reveal and M4 assault rifle with an attached m203 grenade launcher. Grabbing a canister from the case and a magazine as well, in one movement Tommy flips the bed on its side and stands up loading both the canister and a magazine into the rifle And returning fire with a grenade out the window. “BOOM” Tommy shouts a huge grin on his face. As a loud explosion goes off in the parking lot the Flash and smoke can be seen through the window.

Grimjack realizes one of the bullets hit the flask in his hand and all the whisky is pouring out. He tosses it to the ground.

“Fuck yeah Boom is right. I’m glad you came prepared.”

Blane while prone, looks at Grimjack and starts laughing at the flask.

“Get up we’re going to the arena.”Tommy says and quickly moves towards the door and opens it leading with the muzzle of the rifle he peeks out Grimjacks Range Rover burning in the corner of the parking lot seemingly the source of the initial explosion.

Tommy’s truck right outside the room full of Bullet holes but seemingly okay. Tommy turns the barrel of the rifle on the stunned men, and makes his way to the drivers door of his truck opening it, then pulling the keys from his pocket and putting them in the ignition and starting the truck. “ Let’s Go!!” Tommy yells to Evan and Grim who are waiting in the doorway of the room. The two make their way out of the room to the truck where Tommy is waiting the barrel of the rifle still pointed at the men as the begin to recover and shuffle to their feet. Evan and Grimjack now In the front and back passenger seats Tommy climbs behind the wheel, slams the door and takes off.

Tommy now unphased and unsurprised calmly states. “Welcome to the party guys.”

"Listen I have gonna have hands dirty in some shit, but this is a little out of my league."Blane peeks slightly out the window to make sure we aren't being followed.

“Shit just got real. Guys this might sound crazy but this was prophesied to happen. We’re close to the end now. Tommy you know where you’re going?”

“Yeah I’ve been around.” Tommy smiles looking back at Grimjack.

The light turns green in front of them and Tommy continues to drive. Watching his mirrors. Some lefts and a few rights and finally the group can see the arena drawing closer in front of them. Tommy let’s out a sigh of relief as they reach their destination. He pulls the car into the parking lot, turns the truck off and grabs the USB drive from his head unit stuffing it into his sneaker and looking at Grimjack and Evan. “We made it.”

Grimjack slyly grins as he looks out the window.

“Sounds good. Let’s do this then. Rayne fucked up. Went after the wrong group of people. It’ll be great to see Ron Royalty again. But Blane’s right. The Foundation of Sensation, sans Danny Starr? I was always unsure of him.”

“Sometimes your just better off without people my man.”

"Seemed like he had started to come around at the end there." Grimjack says.

"When I said the FOS without Danny, what I really mean is... I expect Danny to show up on his own." Romeo says.

"To help us?" Grim asks.

Romeo and Blane look at each other.

"Look, all I know is... Danny dismantled the UBW in 09 after he sold it to me 3 years before." Romeo reveals.

"Other than that, I have no idea if he's working for Eric Rayne or had his own motivations." Romeo reveals, "Knowing Starr, he probably was pissed that he sold the UBW and instead of asking for it back, just decided to ruin it for everyone. Who knows."

"We just know that Randolph went there to mess everything up." Blane says, "And Starr hired him to do it."

Evans face twists as he looks past Romeo and out the window.

“This time Tommy I’m sure of it and I know it was him in Philly as well. That’s Ryan Maxem” Evan points at the grey SUV now barreling towards them.

Tommy twists his body around to look just as the SUV makes contact with the drivers side of the Truck. Evan and Grimjack stunned, but okay tumble from the passenger side of the now banana shaped truck. Looking back into the vehicle in horror to see Tommy laying Motionless and bleeding draped across the steering wheel.

“We need to get him help!” Evan shouts as the two turn and run towards the stadium.

Quickly reaching the backstage area doors and bursting through them Evan and Grimjack are greeted by masked men.

The two ready to fight for their lives rush the men to no avail as they are both simply sprayed in the face with a white mist and fall to the floor disabled. “Idiots” one of the masked men calls them.

“You were so ready for a fight, it’s much easier to put you to sleep”

The world fading around Evan and Grimjack, they are drug away in separate directions.