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This is the SSW Promo Page! These are the promoing rules and must be abided by:


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on April 12th 2018, 4:41 amCM Nas
Rick Walton: Ladies and Gentlemen...MY NAME IS RICK WALTON! And I am here as the representative...of the BEST! WRESTLER! ALIVE! C! M! NAS!

CM Nas: Thank you once more for that riveting introduction Rick, no one does it quite like you.

Rick Walton: Well the pleasure is all mine champ.

CM Nas: Pleasure. Funny you bring up that word Rick.

Rick Walton: Why is that Nas?

CM Nas: Because this week I have the pleasure of standing face to face with yet more Shoot Nation scum inside of the ring.

Rick Walton: It’s not just any other member though Nas, it’s one of the big ones. If not THE big one past Jaydayne.

CM Nas: Yes Jaydayne and I have unfinished business and I am justifiably anxious to see him soon and exact my revenge for the injustice that took place against me at Exodus...even if it is selfishly at the expense of some of my fellow Phantom Troupe members. We are all powerful, we will rise from any setback and prove emphatically why we are the most powerful entity in all of the World of Wrestling.

Rick Walton: CM Nas VS Jaydayne Pendragon one on one. Now that sounds like a big Free-Per-View match, would not want to waste such a huge showdown on a silly tournament like this would you Champ?

CM Nas: Rick you never change. All about the business. But see, I don’t care about that necessarily right now. Of course before I go any further we need to discuss how I’d potentially get my hands on Jaydayne in the first place. And that starts with this week Rick.

Rick Walton: Against Masanori Kawada.

CM Nas: “The Everlasting Hero”. “The Absolute Justice”. “All Might.”

Rick Walton: How cute, a man almost as old as me playing super hero still. Surprised he isn’t wearing his underwear outside of his tights.

CM Nas: Let me tell you this Kawada. Before I even break down your words to me I am going to break you down fundamentally as a human being. Because that is what Deities such as myself do to mere mortal men. For twenty eight years you have stood for “Justice” for the good people of Japan. Kids Idolized you then grew up and had children who’d go on to idolize you today. Aspire to be like you. Long to live a life even remotely as proud as yours. But let’s be honest with ourselves here ol’ buddy. That’s just a bunch of B.S. now ain’t it? You see that’s the funny thing about all of this Masanori. Had I come to Strong Style Wrestling the same man I was in the States, I would be fighting right alongside you defending the “Good Justice” of the people for the people. Because that is what I did. I spent my entire life idolizing men like yourself. Your american equivalents if you would. I grew up and sought to be the modern day representation of them. I did that...but it only brought grief, and stress, and turmoil my way. I blindly followed those men until their “Sword of Justice” was drawn on me as if I was the bad guy when I had done absolutely nothing wrong. In reality THEY were the wrong ones, but their pride would never allow them to admit to their faults. But believe me deep down inside I am still the very same man I once was. It is just that my outlook on life as a whole has changed. With experience has come a new sense of reality for me. I view the world objectively now, no longer are emotions the driving force behind why I do what I do. Instead of fighting as the little guy scratching and crawling for every little thing. Now I use my new found power and connections to administer my brand of Justice onto the world. The only Justice a god can deliver. DIVINE JUSTICE!

Rick Walton: But you see Nas, that’s where you’ve made your first mistake. I bet you believe Masanori Kawada is just like those other men. And now that you have revealed yourself to him he will strike you down before you get the chance to overpower him.

CM Nas: No Rick. He will do no such thing. Because it is not in Masanori Kawada’s nature to fight in such a way. Masanori Kawada IS a true “Hero”. Something America knows nothing of. The problem of course for Kawada is simple. He would not take such a cheap shot, ergo he’d HAVE to try and take on the Best Wrestler Alive head to head. And in a one versus one scenario, that ends the exact same way for all men involved. Laid out, looking up at the lights, wondering where it all went wrong.

Rick Walton: Masanori claims that you even still possessing and claiming namesake to that there EAW Answers World Championship is the very definition of criminal. You are a vile, evil man whose heart has been corrupted by his own greed and no longer can recognize what is truly right or wrong in this business. And how dare you claim to be a deity and align yourself with the very scum of the earth John Doe and this and that and what have you. Care to speak on it Champ?

CM Nas: Yes...the Champ would. Because at the end of the day whether anyone likes it or accepts it, THAT is exactly WHAT I AM! Champion. I carry this championship title belt with pride KNOWING for a fact I have made it more sought after and more coveted by doing what I have done with it than it EVER WAS PRIOR! I never turned my back on the people who helped me reach this point. As a matter a fact it is those very fans who supported me every step of the way that brought me here in the first place. Strong Style Wrestling possesses the greatest competitors on the planet, without a fact! If I am to prove I am the BEST! I can only compete against such. The dream lives on every day that I carry this here World Championship with me, because if I would have tossed this aside and given up on it after ALL OF THE YEARS I SPENT CHASING IT AND THE HEARTACHE I WENT THROUGH TIME AND TIME AGAIN JUST TO CLAIM IT!? Giving it up would have been an Injustice to myself and all of those who desired to see me hold it for a long LONG time! And me claiming to be god himself? Come on now Kawada. You cannot tell me I am so vile in an industry where every other guy calls himself a deity of some sort. The only difference between myself and all of those other guys is I have proof of my status. Just ask my many devout followers who believe in the gospel that I preach them and beg to hear more of it EVERY SINGLE TIME I open my mouth. 

Rick Walton: How about this one though Nas, I like this part.

CM Nas: Lay it on me Rick.

Rick Walton: John Doe and the rest of Phantom Troupe knowling CHOSE for Aria Jaxon to be their representative inaugural SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Champion over you BECAUSE they knew she’d be an overall better choice than you. 

CM Nas: That’s rich. I don’t want to turn this into a debate pitting Aria against me because that’s not what this is about. If anyone recalls, Aria became our champion because SHE was the one in position to do so. Had you reversed our roles, I’d be standing here with TWO world championship titles, not having to take part in this little tournament to begin with. But it’s fine. What true legends in this industry do is find a way to bounce back from any and all setbacks, and that is exactly what I shall do starting April 15th, at your expense Kawada. Because personally I think Jaydayne singled me out first and sought to eliminate me as an ending factor so quickly compared to Aria because, with all due respect to her, he feared me defeating him FAR more than he did her. And you are foolish to not show the same fear that I KNOW for a fact he did.

Rick Walton: Very well put, as per usual Champ.

CM Nas: Thank you once more Rick. The kind words are always very much appreciated. Masanori, I believe you also said something to the effect of “This is a war between Phantom Troupe and Shoot Nation.” If that’s what you want to call it, then you are losing HORRIBLY! It’s barely been a fight on your end. Not that I’m stupid enough to take someone of your experience and stubbornness lightly. But best believe what takes place this week will be Me effectively emptying a machine gun clip into the chest of one of the premier Generals of the Shoot Nation forces and not breaking a sweat. And there’s no need to concern yourself with John Doe. Alright pal. You’ve got enough Phantom Troupe to deal with in this contest alone with me. Keep your eyes on the prize old’s the only way you’ll win anything significant in THIS decade. But victory won’t be coming to you this week Masanori Kawada. Neither will your phony “Justice”.

Rick Walton: Go on Nas and inform Mr. Kawada of what he shall receive at the hands of the Best Wrestler and Champion Alive in the World Today!

on April 11th 2018, 5:16 pmPiero
Stark and Piero emerge from the Bonsai Garden with eyes redder than the devil’s asshole. Piero as usual has both of the SSW Tag Team Championship belts over his shoulders. Walking back to the ramen spot in their cyclical hell of munchies, the two begin discussing strategy for Piero’s match against Gronk.

Stark: You know, in all my years as a wrestler, I really haven’t seen a match get quite as much hype as Gronk vs Piero has, but that’s probably because you’re exactly the kind of little lumpy piece of shit they want to see get thrown around and mutilated by Gronk.

Piero: I’m a champion now, as you can see by these belts over my shoulder. I think you need to show me some respect.

Stark: Technically I’m a SSW Freebird Tag Team Champion too since I’m in the faction.

Stark rips both belts from Piero and puts them over his shoulder.

Stark: This is a lot better.

Piero: But you’re never even going to wrestle for those belts! Are you even going to wrestle at all?

Stark: Probably not, but I’m signed to a hell of a lucrative contract and all I really gotta do is stand around backstage getting blackout drunk, so why would I? Now as for you, you better get off that high-horse of getting carried to championship glory by Tarah Nova and get your head on straight. There isn’t a person in your career you’ve faced like Gronk, hell, I haven’t faced anyone like him either and I’m glad I’m on the cusp of retirement because I definitely don’t want to.

Piero: Alright… so how do I beat Gronk?

Stark stops dead in his tracks and starts laughing uncontrollably.

Piero: Uh…?

Stark: Beat Gronk? Beat Gronk?! You think you’re going to beat Gronk you little Kirby looking motherfucker?

Piero: I don’t see why you need to be so mean --

Stark: Mean? Get used to mean. Mean is just a miniscule fraction of a word to describe Gronk. He has the primal instincts of a Neanderthal with the intelligence of a Midwestern American Trump supporter packed into the body of King Kong with one preeminent desire to rip the limbs off of any sad, sorry, son of a bitch to get in his way. Beat Gronk? You aren’t beating Gronk. More than likely, your career ends this Saturday. So you want to know what to do? You survive. By any means necessary, you survive. Look, if you make that caveman chase you around the ring for long enough, he’ll forget what he was even in there for and he’ll either tire himself out or get himself counted out. Gronk might be bigger, stronger, and faster, but there’s one key aspect in which you beat him out Piero, and that’s intelligence. You are kind of a dope, but at the same time, half a brain is still better than no-brain. That and, you need to get in shape if you’re going to outlast him at all… Alright dipshit. Time for some cardio. I think you’ve had enough ramen for a lifetime… Then again, this might be your last meal… I’m fucking hungry… Let’s just go. I’m sure you’ll be fine.

Piero: He’s going to murder me isn’t he…

Stark: Hmm… Yeah he probably will. Oh well! At least you were tag team champion right? You can take these belts back. And look, if your life is REALLY in danger I guess I could come out to help. But probably not.

Stark starts to walk off while Piero looks on in sheer fear, with the realization that he may only have days left to live.
on April 11th 2018, 3:06 amSaul Omen
The Song of Saul Omen: Chapter V

[The void of darkness moves across the darkened church of worship that has been created by the hands of man. Skulls draped around the pillars of stone, golden chalices filled with the tribute of blood placed upon the black obsidian altar, to where we are met with the man dressed in black. Saul Omen. After victory created from his hands against the symbol of innocence known as Captain Strong Style, he manifested another great honor to where he bestowed violence upon the famed hero known as Masanori Kawada and Jaydayne Pendragon of Shoot Nation. From his knees as he knelt in prayer, Saul Omen stood upon his feet to where he tightens his tie and hummed in animalistic delight before he turned towards the camera.]

Saul Omen: In the beginning, darkness roamed across the face of the deep emptiness of the vast expanse known as reality. Out of the void, light was born from the womb of shadows to create the spark of life. Many have believed that when the light was born that it instantaneously became good, but that’s not what I have found. This division of darkness and light, the night and the day, it has been a division that has been misrepresented and created. Heroes believe they are symbols of light, showered in its divine holiness to where they’ve become just in their selfish desires, but these heroes are not good. The light has been revealed to me… to not be good. The light is founded upon pride and vanity, the desire to be celebrated and revered at the expense of the darkness shown to be vile and wicked, but the truth is those showered in the light are adept in wickedness in their own corrupted souls. Heroes are not saints or without sin, they do not hold a chaste soul that they would hope to produce in your eyes, they are men that are met with temptation and desire and for these men… vanity is the weakness. I accept the vanity, I accept the wickedness, and I manifest it into the violence that will be inflicted upon them inside of the ring to purge the demons within my soul. All of the violence and the purging of these demons is accredited to the deity of Death thas been my guide… my muse… and this brings me to the events that have unfolded. Masanori Kawada… the great light of the world… he is the hero of Japan that dreams of a future that will be able to shine in the light. Jaydayne Pendragon… a hero that stood for the people in the SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship Match… he’s the celebrated warrior that stood against the cruel world that has forced upon him at Exodus. Two men that have share the same dream, the dream of peace and hope that all of the innocent souls of the world march behind them to achieve, but Exodus showed that their dream deserves to be shattered before the eyes of the world. This age of weakness has been created because of men like you that will rush to the aid of all the weak children of the world, children that will devote themselves towards futile dramatic rants with technology at their fingertips. Voices of crying adults that need knights to come rally behind their cause and Shoot Nation is just an example of these heroes that devote themselves to that cause. They rally behind the desires of the people, all hoping for the chance to be revered in their eyes, but what celebration do you have now? What glory does Shoot Nation have after the way the two greatest men of their faction were left at Exodus? There should be no pride in what you did. No honor in what happened to you. There should be humiliation in what you have been left with and sorrow towards the actions that you have made to bring yourself to this point. However, you don’t have that. I know it. Shoot Nation and their members still have hope within their hearts to where they believe that the villains of the world shall be brought to their knees and meet justice. There is no justice in this world… only death. Death is the only sentence that weighs on the human soul and your justice means nothing. Useless in the eyes of my God.

[Saul Omen is heard to make a sly chuckle at the statement that he made, looking back a large skull outfitted with rubies and gold, before he turned himself around to where his entire face can be seen.]

Saul Omen: Jaydayne Pendragon… how revered are you now since being left without the SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship? How honored is Shoot Nation to see the way that you were left in humiliation by the hands of Shoot Nation? What celebration did Shoot Nation have after the humiliation of not only the leader, but the man of justice in Masanori Kawada to join you? There is no celebration what you suffered, just disappointment. An understandable disappointment to watch the villains of the world, the devils that you have been lectured by your family to eradicate from the face of the Earth, rule this entire company with The Queen of Strong Style Wrestling reigning as your SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Champion! Death decided upon her to be the one to bear the crown of the top prize of this company and with that, I’m honored to share a stable with this queen among peasants that look wide-eyed at the world instead of seeing the reality for the world that we live in. In this world, you have men that want to simply watch the world burn with honorable and innocent souls left within the smoldering waste and when you walk into the arena of carnage that the wrestling ring will be during this tour, I shall leave you laying on that canvas just like The Phantom Troupe did at Exodus. For Death isn’t only the angel of death, but he’s also the angel of life and I have never felt MORE ALIVE than when I gift heroes like you the violence that desires to be wrought upon you. A desire in my heart that pounds quicker in the name of the opportunity, a fire that rages with my own as I stand across that ring from you, and a passion that rises with each strike that lands upon your flesh! Allowing your flesh to reach that breaking point to where you surrender, to where you announce and declare to the world that your heroic valor has been rendered worthless, and the only reprieve that you will have will come with the face of Death harboring you in the Stygian void it inhabits… it’s a euphoric sensation! A feeling that can’t be placed into the words of the mortal man and to attempt to describe the sensation that Death gifts upon you with these tributes would be a dishonor upon its name. For heroic valor brings forth pride and with Jaydayne Pendragon, you’ve been basked in pride like the fog that slithers across the Earth. No matter the disappointment, no matter the defeats, you choose to continue to fight the nonsensical war because of the hope that you’ve been instilled with. That’s why I intend to not only pursue you until this victory has been made with your body broken and left into the dilapidated husk that I fashioned with my own hands, but I will hunt every member of the faction of heroes that you honor and respect. Masanori Kawada, Belle Kingsley, The Apparition, Jun Nobunaga, and whoever enlists their name and soul under the banner of this heroic Shoot Nation shall be forced to be met with the Shinigami of The Phantom Troupe. Jaydayne Pendragon, on my path to allowing the dominance of The Phantom Troupe and the honor of my own god, your heroic soul shall be collected as a tribute. I shall feast upon it to where all of your imbued gifts and talent shall be transferred towards my god, the god that shall deliver me gifts that shall rival your own, and bring me closer towards the ultimate motive of my appearance in this company. All to leave you, Masanori Kawada, The Shoot Nation, and the hopeful audience that reveres you with the words that will never be forgotten with my presence felt here…

[Saul Omen walks towards the giant doors of the strange church straight from the occult as he peers them open, the darkened skies able to be visible from the outside, leaving Saul to leave his final words before making his exit.]

Saul Omen: Memento Mori.
on April 10th 2018, 1:16 pmRacer Smiles


Does it warm your heart? Being around people who accept you and your convict past? You’re so used to being unwanted that you’re willing to confide in the weak to try and find strength. The Ronin at the end of the day are just a band of misfits that nobody else wanted. Each faction is built on its own ideas. Phantom Troupe is built on domination. Shoot Nation, honor. Tres Comas Club, wealth. The Ronin, rejection. Some of you are just a little strange, like Tarah Nova. Tarah’s respectable, just a little off, and while her boy is carrying around his relic with Phantom Troupe she’s embracing her role as queen of the rejects. You fit in well there don’t you? With the freaks and weirdos? I bet that doesn’t even offend you. Being called a freak and a weirdo. In fact you seem like the type to take pride in it. Being a reject isn’t something to be proud of.

Let’s talk about why I’m here. I’m here because the investors of Tres Comas Club chose me! They chose me because I’m a physical freak! You wanna try to educate me? Tell me what it takes to be a good wrestler? Endeavor, we won’t be wrestling. When you get in the ring with me it won’t even be a fight! It’s gonna be a struggle! You struggling to survive with a monster!

SSW has yet to see what I’m capable of when I don’t have to babysit the geeks of Tres Comas who haven’t caught up yet. According to you that mentality only works in the states! But I’m not from the states you maudit toton. Not every gaijin is from America, and I don’t think it’s wise of you to compare a French Canadian super human to American vidange when you’re going to have to look him in the eyes and backup everything you say. That being said I’d advise you to choose your future statements wisely.

At least we’re both focused on this round, we’re both on that page. Do I get points for that Endy? Are you shocked that the man who truthfully cites his strength with objective numbers and statistics isn’t so prideful to say that he’s guaranteed a victory against you? I don’t know what bullshit you Ronin are capable of unveiling from up your sleeves. I still have nightmares about Piero… his jaw unhinged like a snake, it was terrifying. Oof!

Despite your Ronin tricks, I can promise that you won’t leave that squared circle speaking my name in the same tone. Of course an ex-con like yourself would try to act big coming after the strongest man in the yard. Don’t act like you’re the first. Men before you have come after me thinking they can earn clout by picking a fight with me and it was always ends the same. The Chief puts them in their place.

I know what you think of me Endeavor. You think I’m some cocky rookie but the reality is I’ve spent my entire adult life being a monster. I’ve been doing this for a long time now. Just under different rules and different settings. I haven’t been in this business as long as my peers but I’ve been around more than long enough to adapt myself to the environment and continue doing what I do best in the squared circle. So if you were hoping that I had a wealth of inexperience for you to pounce on then I’m sorry to inform you that it won’t be the factor you think it will be.

But why am I telling you this? Why am I giving you information to help you prepare for what’s to come? Because I like to play with my prey. It would be a shame for your pride to get the best of you and I squeeze the life out of you before you get to develop any hope for me to crush. Welcome to my game. The Chief’s turn is up, now it’s your move. Tread wisely.
on April 10th 2018, 11:54 amTarah Nova

Night of the Hunter---SSW Heaven's Arena Cup: Round One!
Promo Number One

“Blessed by a bitch from a bastard's seed. Pleasure to meet you, prepare to bleed. Rise, I'll rise, I'll rise. Skinned her alive, ripped her apart; scattered her ashes, buried her heart. Rise up above it, high up above it and see. Pray to your God, open your heart. Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark. Cover your eyes, the devil's inside. One night of the hunter. One day I will get revenge. One night to remember. One day it'll all just end, oh.”

user posted image

The scene opens up to a silent and lost in thought Tarah Nova who is in a pair of black jeans and a old dark green tank top as she sits on one of the benches in the Ronin locker room. It shows her unwrapping her wrists from her showhouse match against the large monster members of Phantom Troupe. As she finishes her left wrist, dropping the used trap on the ground; the locker room door opens up and a figure steps in. Without looking up at the person in front of her, Nova moves to her right wrist; beginning to unwrap it like she did before. The Ronin locker room was silence for a few moments till the person before her chuckled, “You know something, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run away from a fight like that before. That was--- something else. Good job, baby.”

The pale woman rolled her eyes, not looking up at the voice as she finished her unwrapping her other wrist. Dropping the last of the wrist trap on the ground, Tarah begins to rub her right wrist to work out the sore spot. “And you're here to insult me because...?” The voice chuckled again.

“I’m not insulting you, Tare, just pointing it out.”

A small annoyed sound left her lips as Tarah stared down at the floor till she felt a hand gentle take ahold of her chin, making her look up at the person in front of her. CM Nas. He looked down at her for a moment before a small smile appeared on his lips, “Hey, it was a smart move to run from them. Gronk could’ve hurt you and Kilimanjaro...I mean Kill is basically the beginning of his name.” Tarah rolled her eyes at her boyfriend before removing his hand from her chin so she could stand up from the bench. Swiftly the Michigan Native walked past him to her bag that opened on the table, “I’m not scared of those two, babe. I’ve fought bigger in the states, remember..”

“Oh trust me, I know, but let me point out that I never said you were scared.” He countered, following her over to her bag. Nas leaned against the table, watching her as she packed her bag. “Tare, all I’m saying is it was a smart idea for you to run and save your strength for the next show when you face off against Kilimanjaro alone.”

Tarah glanced over at him once, “Yeah, saving my strength to bury a wannabe monster. Please, you're just happy I didn’t make fools out of your Phantom Troupers tonight...but like you said, that's for this match coming up.” After that, it was Nas’ turn to roll his eyes, smiling more at his girl. “Whatever you say, baby.”

With a her hair hiding the teasing smile on her lips, Tarah began to speak again, “And what about you against Masanori Kawada coming up? I mean you JUST got your ass handed by hi--”

“Hey hey, no. He didn’t even pin me.” The Jersey native started but was quickly cut off by her, “Still lost the match, babe.” A large smile grew on Tarah’s face as she zipped up her bag and turned her body to face her boyfriend fully, who was staring at her with a ‘Are you kidding me?’ kind of  look. “No, don’t do this to me, Tare--Saul Omen ate the pin only because Masanori Kawada got involved and--Actually, it doesn't matter!” He said quickly, ending the talk of his match against the two Shoot Nation scums before it could even begin. “Just know baby that this week I’m going to take Masanori Kawada out of his misery and advance to round two.”

“Yeah, I believe you will, love. I do but--” Tarah stepped closer to the Phantom Troupe member, a smirk dancing on her lips as the space between them grew smaller, “--when you beat him and I take out your useless teammate this week, like I know I will..It's going to be You vs Me the following week.” The Leader of Ronin slowly snaked her arms around his neck, looking up at him sweetly. “Now, the real question is: Are you ready to lose in the second round to little ol’ me?”

Nas looked down at the dark haired woman for a moment before putting his arms around her waist, “Oh, don’t you mean to ask if I am ready to win against you next week? Because yeah I am and that's what will happen.” Hearing that, Tarah chuckled, shaking her head at his words before sliding her hands down to his chest, “Oh Nassy, if you think I’m just going to lay down for you in the middle of that ring next week; you have another thing comin’, my love.”

“No, I know you won’t just lay down for me. You’ll fight me and make it a challenge.” He hummed before leaning down, just inches away from her face to whisper: “And you know how much I love that kind of challenge.” With that, he winked  at her which made Tarah lean back in his arms, laughing softly. “Nas, Please.”

“Please what?” He laughed too before pulling her closer again to kiss her cheek a few times, making her laugh more has he does. “Please, stop. We gotta get going and head to the hotel before we miss check in...again.”

“Ugh, fine...No fun.” He pouted at her.

Still giggling, Tarah reached up and patted his check gently, “Oh I know, I know but...Later?” The Jersey Native mumbled a quiet ‘fine’ before moving his arms from her to grab one of her bag off of the table. “I’ll take this to the car, okay? I’ll meet you out there.” Tarah smiled, nodding her head once at him, “Okay! Thank you, babe.”

“Mhm.” Before he goes to leave, The Michigan Native grabbed a hold her love’s shirt to stop him and quickly give him a peck to the lips. Once she moves back, Nas simply smiles down at her one last time before making his way out of the locker room with her bag in hand. With the Best in the World gone, the room fell quiet once more. Slowly, Tarah pulled out her phone and hit record as she starts to pace around the room:

“So my freaks...I ran today. I ran from a fight with two monsters and left my fellow misfit in the dust to take them on all by himself. Was it wrong to do so? Yes. Yes it was but I know, of course, that karma always finds her way to me and bites me in the ass. ‘How’, you might say? Simple, my fellow freaks, by placing me in a match against one half of those monsters, Kilimanjaro...but Karma forgot who she was dealing with and soon both her and Kilimanjaro himself will learn who the hell I am.” Tarah stopped pacing and smiled at her camera before continuing, “Its funny sometimes how much My love knows how I am and he was even shocked that I ran but he was right about the reason why...and god, I hate when he’s right but I must give him a point this time because yeah, I ran to save my strength for this match. See, I’m not stupid. Not one bit. I’m probably one of the smartest people on this roster and to throw me today in the ring with the man that I face this week before our match? The owner of SSW thinks he slick but I saw it coming. So I left. I left so I could save my strength for Kilimanjaro...But I am not scared of him. I simply wanted to give him my all and beat him with everything I probably have in me. It makes me laugh that he speaks of death and destruction by his own hands...but has never seen what I can go in a squared circle just like the very one we will be in soon. See, he isn’t the only one that was built on the word ‘survive’. Now the difference between our upbringing on the word, is the fact that he chose to live that way while I was forced to live by it. He wanted to destroy everything in his path while I was thrown out on the streets and had to fight for everything I had every single day of my life. Our meanings of fighting with everything we have---the Blood, The Sweat and The Tears; are different to us both but the only thing the same we hold is that we ruin people's lives the same way. Both of us were called Killers and Monsters one time or another in this lifetime and we both chose to embrace those words as well....but the thing is, I learned from it. Every person I've destroyed, every career that I ended; I learned something from it. I did not just kill them and walk away with nothing in hands like you probably did. I took them with me. I have never forgotten a face of a career that I ended. Lethal, Cleo, Cherish and so many others who met the same fate by my hands. So while you have a country of death under your belt; I have 20 careers ruined under mine and with those 20 careers, I will defeat you and advance to the next round of this tournament, Kil.” Tarah sat down on the bench she sat on earlier. Her small smiles now gone and a weak smirk in its place. With her free hand, The Leader of Ronin quickly moved some of her long dark hair out of her face as she speaks again. “Now before you say anything: No, this is not me being cocky. This isn’t me ‘jumping the gun’ before I even hear your words about me. Kil, this is me just simply laying down the facts because I am a woman of my word and my word is this: I, Tarah Jay Nova, will destroy you this week in our match against one another. Laugh now but my word is true. See, I am not afraid of a conqueror such like yourself. In fact I have defeated men like you before. So called Kings, Gods and Monsters who believed they were better than every single person they crossed paths with but that all changed once they got to me....Once they met me in that ring, I was the one that made them bow at my feet...So what does that mean for you this week? That means you will be no different than them and you will bow to the Leader of Ronin, Kil.. Like I said before, I am not afraid of you or what you can do to me...but you should be afraid of what I can do to you. You need to realize at this moment in time before you enter that ring against me that I AM the master of that ring. I am one of the BEST in this goddamn business TODAY. I am the leader of the freaks and I know every trick in the book to defeat a ‘monster’ man such like yourself, Kilimanjaro. And trust me when I say, I don't care that your on a powerful team suchlike Phantom Troupe because in my eyes; most of them on that team are just stuck up cowards that hide behind their teammates to get wins.”

Tarah’s smirk widens,  “Now after that comment of mine, I guess that's what you are to the team, just a barrier for them to hide behind, Kilimanjaro. All you are to them is a shield of human flesh but no matter...because at the end of the our the match you, big guy, will fall fast and hard. I promise you right now, I'm going to make you crash through that damn mate, Kil. See, I’ve walked over hundred of bodies to get where I am today, I’m not afraid to walk over a few more. So be ready, Kilimanjaro become a real Killer is on the loose and she aiming right. For. You...but till then...”

“...Nova Out.” Still holding the deadly smirk on her lips, The ShockCollar of Ronin winks at the camera of her phone before signing off. Finally the camera stops recording and goes black, ending the scene.  


on April 9th 2018, 6:54 pmGuest
I could beat around the bush and mince my words if I wanted to but I figure I should just come right out and say it:

Racer Smiles is a


I did my best to be courteous. Going into our post-match interview I was absolutely frustrated at what had just happened but I had the decency to keep my cool and look towards the future. I didn’t once utter his name the entire time, instead focusing on myself and how I’m going to move forward and take what’s rightfully mine in championship gold. His side is a completely different story though, clearly. The moment my microphone touched that table he thought he could just sound off and try and push the blame on me for our loss at Exodus. I wish I could say I was surprised but, let’s face it, it became blatantly obvious that my partner is more shallow than the kiddy pool at a birthday party and, naturally, he takes just as much responsibility as one of the toddlers in it. I could go on and on about how the big, strong Racer Smiles somehow couldn’t push his way past a guy who must be a fraction of the weight he’s used to lifting but I think the story tells itself. Racer took it upon himself to blame me, the guy that did the actual carrying in our match because he couldn’t defend me from an illegal attack from the illegal opponent but look at what happened the following week during our Heaven’s Arena tour!

Chase brings out a document with the match results from last week and their times, putting it up to the camera and revealing Chase’s singles match and Racer Smiles’ tag match with Kirill Ivaschenko.

Do you see what I see? Chase Vedder defeated Kerry Keller in twelve minutes and fifteen seconds. My first match as a singles competitor and I won just like I promised that I would. Unfortunately I made the mistake of promising the same in tag team competition, unaware that my partner was about as competent as the three stooges combined. You saw for yourself on this very piece of paper. It says right here that he and Ivaschenko lost in almost the exact same manner! Yet again he failed to save his partner from a two on one assault, this time because his back hurt, I guess? I wonder what his excuse is going to be but that’s enough of him for one day; I have something much, much more important to focus on for the next few weeks and that’s the Heaven’s Arena Cup.

In the very first round it seems as though I’ll be faced with the “challenge” of Damien Walker, although judging by the rundown I’ve been given on him by one of my Tres Comas Club subordinates, it seems as though this man has more nicknames than he does talent. He calls himself things like The Man Without Fear and The Punisher yet all I see is a guy with a bad haircut and an even worse goatee. I mean, really? A goatee in 2018? With poor decision making like that it’s no wonder you got dumped in that rat-infested, half assed faction called Ronin. I mean, what’s even the point in Ronin anyway? You guys are the last crumbs scraped from the bottom of the barrel and yet I’m apparently meant to feel some way about that. While it’s true that your faction doesn’t make you, you have to have made it in some form to actually find yourself in one that’s worth anything. That’s why I’m here in Tres Comas Club and you’re over there with the band of misfits, “Mr. Unpredictable”. Yikes, these nicknames just get worse and worse, don’t they? Well, Mr. Unpredictable, meet Mr. Unanimous Decision. At least, that’s what everyone else is going to be calling me while you’re staring up at the lights. I know that’s a tough concept for you to understand, though, Judging by the looks of you I’m not sure you’ve ever stepped foot in a building that wasn’t infested with cockroaches or reeked of piss. Those places don’t typically have electricity from my knowledge.

You see, electricity is what powers a lot of modern day technology like refrigerators and mobile phones and televisions, all things I’m sure you’ve at least read about in the past… but it does have another meaning too. Electricity is also something you get when you’re in a big arena, standing in front of thousands of people with all of them chanting your name, cheering you on to victory and it’s what you feel running through your veins as your fists go flying and your body charges into your opponent over and over again until you’ve taken them to their limit and pinned them for the one, two, three. That feeling… that feeling is addictive… for some. Not for me. In life there’s nothing more important than the two special colors: gold and green. That’s championships and dollar bills, baby, and so long as you’re having to step up to me you’re not going to be touching either of those things. In fact, I’d go out on a hunch and say that whatever peanuts you’re being paid to be here is probably still more than you’ve seen in the rest of your…

God, you’re twenty five years old? With a hairline like that?! Wow, life really hasn’t treated you well.

The more I talk about beating the worse I feel, honestly.

I know you’ve probably not amounted to much in however long it is you’ve been wrestling on trampolines and hitting people with trash cans so this is a very big deal for you. This must be like playing in the minor leagues to suddenly being called up to the greatest NFL team, the Colts, only to realise that you’re being used to fill up bench space. That’s a sad, sad tale if I do say so myself, even more so because you’ve still yet to realise that it’s about to become reality.

Need I remind you, I’m Tres Comas Club. We get paid more than anyone else on this entire roster and it’s for very good reason, at least in my case. I’m going to make sure you remember that when you’re lying in the back of your car bawling your eyes out over yet another wasted opportunity and I’m sat in a bathtub full of Benjamin Franklins celebrating another easy victory.

Until then, please at least try to put up a fight. I dare you.

As for everyone else in 3CC. Tres Comas Club may already have a new de facto leader but I can assure you that it only has on alpha male and that’s ME.
on April 9th 2018, 12:07 pmEndeavor
(Scene opens on Endeavor shortly after the house show in Naka-kun.  He’s sitting in the locker room, sipping a bottle of water. He looks tired, his face paint is worn off in parts and smudged everywhere else.  But he looks happy. Atem comes up to him with a brilliant smile on his face.)

Endeavor: “Good work out there, Atem.  That was a lot of fun.”

Atem: “OH YAAAAASSSS! It was MARVELOUS!  We have shown that all of Ronin is capable of fighting for the Titles of Birds Who Are Free!”

Endeavor: “Yeah, you said it, man.  Can’t wait until we work together again.”

(Endeavor raises up his fist for a fist bump.  Atem’s brow furrows as he examines Endeavor’s hand in puzzlement.)

Atem: “What is the meaning of this gesticulation?”

Endeavor: “Uhhh, it’s a fist bump.  You tap fists lightly together.  It’s, um, a sign of camaraderie.”

Atem: “REALLY?  How CHARMING!  Let us partake of this social ritual!”

(Atem balls his own hand up into a fist and punches Endeavor’s fist, perhaps a little harder than necessary.)

Endeavor: “Ow.  A little lighter.  Try again. You’re not trying to hurt the person.”

(Atem obliges, tapping Endeavor’s fist with the proper amount of force.  He grabs Endeavor’s fist and begins laughing maniacally at it.)

Atem: “YAAAAASSS INDEEEEEEED!!  I feel that our COMRADESHIP has increased to a new level from this bumping of fists!  There is a connection between you and I, of this I am sure! When we work in tandem, there is naught that can stand against us!  All who dare shall be MUMMIFIED!”

(Endeavor is finally able to extract his hand, and arches an eyebrow at Atem.)

Endeavor: “Mummified?”


Endeavor: “Mummified?”


(Atem throws his head back laughing and walks off, continuing to shout ‘MUMMIFIED!’ Endeavor watches him go, shaking his head with a smile on his face.)

Endeavor: “Well, strange friends are better than no friends.”

(He wipes the rest of his face paint off with a towel and throws on a jacket as he walks to the back entrance and out into the evening air.  Checking the pockets of his jacket, he produces a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights the cigarettes and takes a drag, exhaling a plume of smoke.)

Endeavor: “It’s a horrible habit, but it’s one you tend to pick up when you’re in prison.  You always need some kind of vice to take your mind off of things. This was mine. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve had worse habits in my day.”

(He takes another drag and puffs out a smoke ring.)

Endeavor: “Damn, it felt good to be back in the ring.  It’s like discovering feeling in a limb that you thought had gone numb forever.  A little painful at first, a little slow and awkward in the beginning, but by the end of the night, I felt like I had never left.  And I know I just met Atem, but weird as he is, I just have a gut feeling that I can trust him. It felt natural to team with him. It certainly helped to shake off the ring rust.  I’m not at a hundred percent, but I feel like I’m close. Closer than I should be after almost eight years away from the ring.

“Not that I’m going to have much time to shake off my ring rust.  Just one house show under my belt and I’m already thrown into the Heaven’s Arena Cup tournament.  No time to ease into things at all. That’s alright, though. I like a challenge. And this tournament is filled with some of the heaviest hitters in SSW.  From the big nasty guys of the Phantom Troupe like Gronk and Saul Omen, to the seasoned veterans like Masanori Kawada and Tarah Nova, to the hungry rising stars like Jaydayne Pendragon and Chase Vedder; there’s nobody that you should sleep on, there’s nobody you should look through.  And looking at the brackets, I draw one of Tres Comas Club’s studs, Racer Smiles.

“No doubt he’s got a chip on his shoulder after losing the Freebird Tag titles to Tarah and Piero.  I heard him talking his trash before Exodus. He was a man that couldn’t conceive losing to a woman and a guy who looked like Piero.  He was so sure that his strength would carry the day, even though he regularly dismissed his own partner. And that’s where he made his biggest mistake.  He underestimated the value of teamwork, the value of mutual respect. Because, sure, he could out-power either Tarah or Piero, but all that strength meant nothing in the face of their guts and guile.  People might decry Ronin’s win as cowardly, but I see it another way. It’s easy to get into the ring when you have the size of someone like Gronk or the pound for pound strength of Racer Smiles or the history of success that CM Nas has.  That doesn’t take much courage. But when you’re a guy like Piero, who isn’t the most athletic and has taken beating after beating, it takes balls of steel to step between the ropes, especially against the caliber of opponent that there is here in SSW.  And he uses the only weapons that he has at his disposal: his guts and his smarts. Tres Comas got outsmarted. That’s why even though Piero is the underdog against Gronk, I wouldn’t count him out completely.

“So I wonder if Racer has learned that lesson: that there’s more to wrestling than just strength.  Or does he continue to focus on that one area of advantage? I used to be that way in my younger years.  When I first broke out in the indies, I was known for my speed which fueled my reckless high flying style.  I thought that if no one could touch me, there was no way that I’d lose. Speed kills, I used to say.  Heh, if only I weren’t so right about that in all that wrong ways.  But I was far too one dimensional. Speed is good and all, but if an opponent hobbled my leg, or if I missed a key high spot, I was in trouble and I had nothing to fall back on.  But I’ve learned. I’m by no means perfect. You won’t have me going around claiming to be the best wrestler alive or anything silly like that. But I’m much more rounded than I was.  Not as fast as I used to be, but still a far sight quicker than you. I’m a hard striker. And I know the importance of guts and picking my spots. I have no doubt Smiley will throw me around for long portions of the match.  But I’m used to pain, I’m used to adversity. He’ll make a mistake, he’ll leave an opening, and that’s when I’ll strike. These matches can turn on a dime, and momentum shifts on a whim. The best wrestlers, you’ll find, are skilled at reading these shifts and adapting accordingly.  And I’m here to prove that I’m worthy of that consideration.

“I’ve messed up a lot of my life.  Made mistakes, horrible ones. I’ve failed as a son, as a brother, as a professional, as a father.  I’ve absorbed a lot of failure in my life. But despite all of this, I’ve set my mind on the belief that it’s never too late to turn it around.  It’s never too late to try to make amends. That’s what this tournament is to me. A way to prove that I have changed, that I have started on the long and winding road of redemption.  I’m not expecting it to be easy. Hell, I don’t want it to be easy. I want the trials and tribulations that come from overcoming substantial obstacles because it makes victory all the sweeter.  I need to overcome the Gronks, the CM Nasses, the Jaydayne Pendragons. And that includes Smiley as well. He’s a step on my path of redemption. That all-important first step.

“So, Smiley, bring your A-game.  Much as I’m looking ahead, I’m not looking through you.  You’ve got my full attention for this week. I have to make an impact: for myself, for my family, and for Ronin.  See, you might put down your teammates, and think that you don’t need them to succeed, and were we in America, you might be right.  But we’re in a different culture in SSW. If you paid attention to the heavyweight title bout at Exodus, you would have seen that on display.  Aria, Nas, and Pendragon were neck and neck throughout the bought. What elevated Aria above the others were her Phantom Troupe cronies. Now, I don’t condone that type of action, and I would be disappointed if I had to lean so heavily upon Ronin to get me through this tournament.  But I’d be remiss if I didn’t notice how effective it was and think about how to counter that. I’ll be counting on my teammates to make sure that my contests are one-on-one and are ready to intercede if someone from the opposing team tries to get involved. Phantom Troupe might be banned from interference, but I don’t believe for a second that someone as malicious and cunning as John Doe is supposed to be doesn’t have an idea or three to get around that.  And likewise, when anyone from Ronin is fighting, don’t think that I’ll be too far away, watching and waiting for any foul play, baseball bat in hand. The difference, it seems, between Ronin and Tres Comas Club is camaraderie. I may not blindly agree with everything my stablemates do, but I will stand up and fight beside them or have their backs as they take care of their business. I appreciate how Tarah and the rest have taken me in, accepted me despite my flaws.  Corny as it may sound, that’s what strengthens us and will give us the boost that we need to ascend to the top of SSW, to pass Shoot Nation and Tres Comas Club and go toe-to-toe with Phantom Troupe.

“On Saturday, Ronin goes into Makuhari Messe and makes a loud proclamation to everyone in SSW: fans, authorities, and competitors.  We’re here to dig deep and take control of our own destinies and shape SSW into the hard-hitting, smash-mouth adrenaline high that it should be, one match at a time.  Racer Smiles is just gonna have to deal.”

(Endeavor stubs out his cigarette.)

“The Ronin Empire is taking over.”
on April 9th 2018, 12:50 amThe Apparition
*In a small teahouse in the backlots of Chiba, everyone’s second favourite masked Shoot Nation member sat fidgeting over a cluttered desk. At that moment, he was spinning a pen on his finger, while finishing off his now tepid cup of tea. He stared devotedly at a portable laptop, replaying tape of a variety of spliced-up matches*
*Jotting down a final thought, and wiping his upper lip after putting down his beverage, The Apparition tapped down on his notebook aggressively to make a point*
This is where every wrestling match is won or lost. Before the bell has even rung. Back in my heyday, I was never the biggest or the strongest. Hell, sometimes I wasn’t even the smartest. But I understood more than anything that wrestling is a craft, and the only way you can truly hone your craft is through constant practice, analysis and observation.
And this is what makes me so dangerous. I am too polished to be a rookie, and have no tape on me to be analysed. I am an enigma, and for that reason alone Tres Comas Club should be very afraid.
The Tres Comas Club is perhaps the easiest of all of the groups which populate SSW to understand. Ronin are the noble individualists, Phantom Troupe are agents of chaos and self-interest, and us at Shoot Nation fight for the noble traditions of professional wrestling. For Tres Comas, it is all about the money and status.
And look, I do get it. Don’t think I don’t. The simple desire to get ahead in life is something which motivates the majority of people. The thing is, you don’t get ahead in this industry by being most people. In the end, we all get our paycheques signed and get revered by the masses. We ruin our bodies and get well compensated for it. There has never been much sense of coveting what we are already being given, yet there stands the Tres Comas Club, striving for just that little bit more.
Once again, though, don’t paint this as me underestimating the TCC. The fact is better performers end up getting more at the pay window, so cash is always a good incentive. It also leads people to become lazy once they have bitten off their big payday. Isn’t that right, Matias? Once one of wrestling’s brightest prospects, now an old relic like myself who needs to fight to become relevant once again.
Now, I have heard the rumours about the self-pronounced Maestro. The fans didn’t like him anymore, so he lost his will to fight. I usually don’t take rumours seriously, and likewise I will gloss over what people have to say about Navarro’s motives. I am a firm believer in knowing thy enemy, but honestly there is not much to know about this guy. He has the strength of a warrior, and the spirit of a titmouse. I know about living with demons which tell you that you aren’t good enough, but that was never the case with Navarro. He was always good enough, and knew it. While I still grit my teeth and clenched my fist week after week, he just wasn’t man enough to continue fighting. I can appreciate SSW bringing him back from the scrapheap, but until he has found a reason beyond his bank account to continue fighting, people like him don’t last in this industry. And in Tres Comas, he is not going to find that reason.
And then on the other hand, I face someone who does frighten me a bit. People with passionate beliefs of their own grandeur, whether or not they are delusions, always fight hard. Miltiades believes himself the descendant of many great Roman Emperors, and any noble worth his salt knows that when people with lower birthright try to stand up, the only way to handle them is to crush them under your boot heel. I’m sure Miltiades knows the same, which is why I am expecting a tough match from him. Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t have an important message to pass down to Miltiades.
The one thing nobility is good at doing is spreading their seed. Even empires which lasted a single generation are almost always led by a man who created many heirs and fathered many bastards. So when you start bragging about your noble birthright, oh mighty Augustus…Well, I suppose you have blood that Jun and I don’t, but as soon as we go back to the Western World, we will be surrounded by millions of people who hold the same royal blood that you do. Hell, it’s the same with the Conquistadors who are no doubt the ancestor of your weak-willed tag partner. Even if they were Spaniards, there will always be just a touch of Italian in there, and that is all you need to have the same blood you hold so dear. The only way your proclaimed heritage would truly be unique to you is if your ancestors stuck to a strict inbreeding regime, to monopolise the blood of Emperors to you and your family. Of course, then we would have to start calling you Mil-Roll-Tiades.
The fact is, none of us are particularly special because of the blood that runs through out veins. It the blood that pumps through our hearts which makes us what we are, and the hearts of Shoot Nation beat hardest of all. Last week, Jaydayne proved that he was the person to beat in SSW. He may not have the belt to prove it, but from where I stand, that is what makes our group so great. We all have so much left to prove, so we all have so much left to fight for. And that especially holds true for me.
This is my last chance to make something of my career, and to achieve that I will start with nothing. I have no name. I have no reputation. I have no accolades. All I have is my will and my strength to fight. So please. Tres Comas. Do your best to try and break me, because when a man has nothing that is the only way you can stop him.
on April 8th 2018, 12:56 pmBelle Kingsley
“Hello, My name is Belle--No, that doesn’t sound good! Too formal.”

The scene fades into a young woman with blonde curls falling down her back. She had returned from the curtains after a loss against Damien Walker during the SSW House Show. She is sweating as she is pacing back in fourth thinking to herself.  Her face is not revealed as she continues to mutter to herself about how she should introduce herself to the cameras.

“Sup, I’m Belle Kingsley.” Belle Kingsley, who made it obvious that it was her name as she tried to sound casual when she introduced herself this time, but she shook her head, hating how she sounded. She wasn’t sounding like herself as she continued pacing around.

“Maybe, I can do a traditional Japanese approach.” she suggested to herself as she took a deep breath before speaking in Japanese, “ Kon'nichiwa, watashinonamaeha berukinguzurī de, watashi wa kādifu, u~ēruzu shusshindesu.”

Belle shook her head as she thought that she may have butchered her introduction, “God, if people listen to me, they’re going to mistake me for being a white person speaking Japanese. With the number of foreigners we have around here, that is the last thing I want people to have the impression of me.”


Belle dropped her water bottle to the floor as she nervously begins fumbling her words. She was not expecting the camera person to be standing there and for how long? Belle smiled casually as she rested her back against the wall, pretending that she was not just practicing how she would introduce herself in front everyone in Japan and those watching in the states, “Um, how long were you here?” she asked nervously.

“Up to when you were speaking Japanese,” the cameraman responded as Belle facepalmed in shame, “It’s fine. You didn’t fumble anything. Although, that’s not what I wanted to approach you for?”

“I’m guessing that you wanted to see what my mind’s at approaching the SSW Heaven’s Arena Cup since the first round matches are next week--I don’t know, but I was just assuming. Don’t want you to think that I’m way too smart to be asked questions or anything because I’m not that kind of person.” Belle explained as she got her water bottle from the floor and took a seat on one of the steel chairs next to the gorilla.

“Well, you’re part of Shoot Nation, so I assume you’re nicer than those at Phantom Troupe or Tres Comas Club.” the cameraman pointed out as Belle nodded her head and thought of his words.

“Well, I don’t wanna say that they’re mean or anything, but Shoot Nation, Tres Comas, Phantom Troupe and Ronin all want different things and they associate with those that want those things. What drove me to want to join Shoot Nation was because I loved that they believed in the right thing--the right thing for me at least and that wasn’t money, glitz, and glamour like Tres Comas, it’s not to dominate the wrestling world like Phantom Troupe and I seem to have more of a vision than Ronin. Don’t get me wrong dominating the wrestling world is nice and all, but I want to gain respect. Not only from my stablemates, but from the fans and people around the world. I want them to look at my abilities in the ring and be impressed that someone as young as me is able to hang with some of the baddest sons of bitches on the planet. With my defeat against Damien Walker, people were not expecting me to hang with him as long as I did in the ring. I fought till the very end, but I made a rookie mistake and it cost me in the end. I’m young, I’m going to make mistakes, but that’s why I’m part of Shoot Nation. That’s why my direction led me to Strong Style Wrestling and I plan to constantly improve and up my game anyway I can.” Belle explained in the most soft-spoken way possible. Her voice had determination and passion to do well in SSW.

“Well, you have a match against Kerry Keller in the first round of the Heaven’s Arena Cup. What are you going to use from this match to make sure you don’t fall victim to him and lose your chances at the Cup so soon?” the cameraman asked as Belle thought for a second.

“Well, with my match against Damien, he had the intensity and I had the determination. Apparently, that was not enough for me to win the match against him. With me, I just need to bring a whole lot more into the table. Shoot Nation is all about the shoot style of wrestling. This has been a style of wrestling that I have been familiar with the moment I realized what this style of wrestling was all about. This next match of mine will gain the attention out of people. I expect to bring something out that I have not been able to bring out as of yet. With the opportunity so huge, it only means that I bring the best of everything I have in my willpower to make sure I advance to the next round. With Kerry, being part of the Phantom Troupe doesn’t really make him the most liked guy in the locker room. Is this because of envy from the other ones? The ones who are not able to gather as much success as they have within the last couple months? Is it because if you’re like anything to me the way they walk around all cocky and confident just rubs me the wrong way? Call it envy, but I got nothing to be envious about. You could say that I’m not on the “winning team”, but every day that I’m not surrounded by those goons is a victory in my book. Aria Jaxon and Khmoach Sangkat are winners. Aria Jaxon was able to collect another title from The Phantom Troupe, Khmoach was able to retain his title at Exodus. With the company still being so young, there is plenty of chances for upcomers to make a name for themselves. A victory over Kerry takes me to round two where I am going to face bigger and tougher competition.”

“I came to SSW almost like I was invisible. There is no one there that knows who Belle Kingsley is. There is no one out there who is familiar with my work. I didn’t come from a huge company. I didn’t have titles given to me on a silver platter. I didn’t quit just because they thought they were too good and that one company would crumble without them. I don’t have as big of an ego as some of the talents here. Kerry Keller, who knows what to expect for him when I get his video. Either he can be the most knowledgeable person in the Phantom Troupe, but knowing who their leader is, I can say that I am going to be getting that typical “I’m better than you” and “We have two of the titles”. I mean, it’s going to be the typical thing here, right? “My stable is better than yours”. Like, is this going to get childish fast? I like to be optimistic and hope that it doesn’t, but with the people in this company, it might be hard to do so because they have a chip on their respected shoulder. People like CM Nas and Aria Jaxon drag around their previous company’s championships. It’s unbelievable how they haven’t been blacklisted by walking out of a company in the way they did. Tres Comas currently had a former champion who no-showed their match and Andre Virgo basically had a title given to him and that’s supposed to be a good thing? Ronin has a variety of talent, but it’s almost can be considered a clusterfuck with no sense of unity in them. I know, they’re going to say that it’s the only place where they don’t fit in with the objectives of the other three groups. But, Shoot Nation? Whenever faced with turmoil and things not going our way, we rise above it. We don’t stay down for long and that needs to be pointed out. People think we’re out of the running for anything fantastic, but it has fueled the fire within our stable and we will bounce back by winning the Heaven’s Arena Cup. Everyone can poke, tease and make fun of the claim, but Shoot Nation is getting the last laugh as I raise that cup above my head and bring pride into SSW.”

Belle sighs and continues.

“Kerry Keller should be someone I shouldn’t be concerned about. Yet, I cannot help, but be worried about how much of a bracket breaker he could turn out to be. People expect him to make it through me with almost an ease and that is something I cannot allow. This is nothing personal. As much as members of the Phantom Troupe like to stir the pot, I refuse to let them stir and bring out my worse. That is a measure I don’t want to even think about it coming out to the open. Kerry won’t get the best of me when it comes to my worst emotions. But, I will get the best of him out of this match. My determination to get better; my desire to succeed and my skills are what is going to advance me to the second round.”

“Thank you for your time, Belle.” the cameraman said as Belle smiled as the camera fades to black.
on April 7th 2018, 7:11 pmRacer Smiles


You know, when I was a kid I was always the smallest and the weakest. At lunch when kids wanted to arm wrestle each other I’d always lose. For class pictures I always had to sit down in the front to be in view. I grew up being talked down to, laughed at, I was the last person anyone expected to be a champion in strength. It’s not just about strength though. It’s psychological. But what is “it”?

“It” is my reason to go out there and win. People think I’m just here to show off and prove to everyone how strong I am but that’s just a surface level belief. Any gym bro can pick things up and put them down but to be a champion powerlifter and lift weight that makes jaws drop you need to have something more than just an ego to feed. I had an idea to overcome. The idea that I wasn’t capable of being great. When I stepped into the weight room for the first time I got laughed at, but it didn’t stop me from racking plate after plate after plate on barbells until those people couldn’t laugh anymore.

The Freebird Tag Team championships. It’s no surprise that I don’t have them, because I have never been a team player. I play for myself. Because nobody has ever played for Racer Smiles except for Racer Smiles. When I was in high school I didn’t just lift weights. I was on the baseball team too. Every time I stepped up to the plate I’d hear the crowd cheer, but not for me. They were cheering for the pitcher. I’d hear his dad, his mom, his sister, his brother, his cousin, the girl who he took behind the school to suck her first dick. Every time it was the same. It was individual voices I could pick out, all cheering for me to fail. Nobody was cheering for me to win. I didn’t have a family around. I’m an only child, mom and dad had their own problems, and who wanted to be friends with the short kid who spent all his time in the weight room. I had nobody on my side, even my teammates doubted me, but I still knocked it out of the fucking park every time to show everyone not to doubt their Chief.

If I was in this for ego I would have stuck to powerlifting. Break Ed Coan’s records, maybe even go into strongman and tell Arnold what a little bitch he’s turned into. I was eating good, living large, and women threw themselves at me. So if I was as egotistical as the SSW press and locker room say I am then tell me why I would walk away from all of that to get hit with cheap shots from fat fucks while my partner gets pinned by a woman with bigger balls than him? Because maybe I’m not in this for the glory. Maybe I’m not here for the money or the pussy. Maybe I’m here to challenge myself. Endeavor has been doing this shit for 20 years, I haven’t even been doing this for a year. Endeavor is an “indie darling” and according to what I’ve heard that makes him popular with our demographic. So what I can expect to hear when I walk through the curtain in Chiba is a crowd of people who are going to be booing me and cheering for my opposition.

Congratulations Endeavor, you have their admiration. You can feel validated hearing them chant your name in the face of your adversary. I won’t have that same luxury, but I will feel validation. It’s nice to hear someone tell you how good you are, it’s kinda like popping a painful cyst. A cyst of self doubt that you can feel at all times no matter how hard you try to ignore it, and when you’re not ignoring it you’re picking and prodding at it hoping that it will just go away and then after awhile you get a pop. Suddenly all that pain and irritation fades away as your brain starts producing endorphins in relief. We all have that insecurity, whether anyone else is as… humble as me to admit it they walk through life wanting their self doubts eradicated. Some men in this business get that satisfying pop of validation from the cheers of the crowd but not me. My pop of validation is when my opposition is helplessly trapped in my grip, me squeezing the air out of their throat until their their blood vessels pop turning their eyes a dark red!

Not a pretty picture is it? Well you might be happy to know that most don’t have the pride to hold on that long. They know to cut their losses and tap out but in a way that’s just as satisfying. Knowing that I gave someone an ultimatum so powerful that they willfully submit to me, admitting their defeat and acknowledging me as their Chief. The shame they must feel knowing that they voluntarily let all of those people down. Passion and praise will turn to silence and disappointment.

I don’t care who you are. I don’t care how long you’ve been doing this, what you’ve accomplished, nobody can overpower me. You can run and duck but when I get my hands on you, your faith is in the hands of your new Chief.
on April 7th 2018, 6:12 pmMasanori Kawada

Versus CM Nas; Heaven’s Arena Tournament first round.
Entry: 1 -- Word Count: 1,696

The basic scenario of a press conference is where a wrestler calls upon a number of reporters to a public or private area and makes some sort of announcement. Typically, press conferences are only used for important matters in the Japanese Wrestling world. With the disappearance of All-Might during the hiatus that SSW took in order to recover from outside lawsuits, his reemergence was treated like a big deal at Exodus, though the events of what happened that night did not favor him. Still, the SSW fans were happy to see that Masanori Kawada hadn't abandoned the company like members of the Phantom Troupe faction had fabricated and spread around. So when Kawada called for a press conference to be gathered in the wake of the newly-announced Heaven's Arena tournament, there was quite a large gathering wanting the scoop on one of the most talked about rivalries in Japan today; the Shoot Nation against the Phantom Troupe. Flashing bulbs ignite the conference room wall in anticipation of the arrival of All-Might. Sure enough, wearing a snazzy yellow pin-stripe suit with a blue tie going down his white dress shirt, Masanori Kawada takes to the stand, waving to the masses and shaking hands with reporters who have gotten close enough to the podium. He is followed by the rest of the Shoot Nation members, seemingly in support of Kawada to make an announcement on their behalf. As the chatter of the crowd quietens down, Kawada raises the microphone to his mouth.

"It feels good to know that The Everlasting Hero hasn't been forgotten in his absence, even amongst the recent influx of things going on. He seems to still have his place within SSW. That's not an easy thing to do, to disappear and come back without the loss of standing. But, most people are sure to be understanding that the SSW hiatus was the lowest point of my year and in the aftermath, some soul searching - if you will - was needed. See, for the last couple of weeks.. since everyone knew that I would be back, there's been this lingering question kind of floating around about what happens next. Does All-Might work his way towards another opportunity at the Championship gold that this company possesses? Does he return to his long-term goal of becoming one of the legendary icons of this industry? The options appear endless but frankly, none of them feel right except; for one." He flicks his tongue across his bottom lip, letting the tension rise before he gave away the answer. Glancing around, he took in the faces of the audience and see quite a few very much focused on him. "As of now, All-Might's only interest is going back to the beginning and pick up where he left off. Not fighting for a championship necessarily, but fighting for what's right. Surely many remember the abusive, manipulative Phantom Troupe? The same group that helped usher in the only form of justice this company has had and for their reward, the momentum-halting of this company. Each and every single member of this group of scoundrels have been allowed to practically get away with murder - until now. All-Might no longer has something preventing him from hunting down those who need to face the justice that they deserve.. words that should resonate with my opponent on April 14th."

Pulling the microphone away from his mouth, he had paused altogether. With the answer that has been at the back of his mind for weeks now out there, Kawada can get focus on the man that's been put before him and will have his hands more than full. He paces slowly, only a couple of times before the silence becomes borderline too much. When that feeling hits him, he knew that's his cue to pick back up.

"CM Nas has quite the reputation, doesn't he? I mentioned the recent influx of talent, and of that influx.. Nas's name is the latest one attached. And in his own right, he has this sort of.. twisted outlook on justice. For men like him, things are pretty cut and dry when it comes to that outlook. It's an eye for an eye, what people do towards him is what he does back to them. In the way that people consider me a modern-age hero of the wrestling world, Nas has a more - outlawish take on being one in the same way. In the west, he was a captivating underdog who was always fingertips away from the ultimate glory that company provided. Once he had it, he received a hero's celebration, the calluses on his hands paying off. What has come to the east, to Strong Style Wrestling, is no one's hero." Kawada looks over the sea of people to see if there is any objection to that claim. There wasn't one. "Because there's an unspoken chip on his shoulder that he either refuses to drop or just doesn't know how. What he has brought to this company is a championship belt that is, as far as this nation is concerned, meaningless. An unauthorized champion bringing unsanctioned world championship gold to this company, to even suggest the idea that there is a second world heavyweight champion in our midst - let alone apart of the Phantom Troupe - is an injustice that can not be ignored. The fact that he has even gone to the lengths of calling himself a god is.. sacrilege. To think, this was someone people respected, someone people got behind and supported to give him the motivation to make that world champion dream of his come true. But it only revealed the true colors of a despicable and disrespectful man. My displeasure with the existence of the Phantom Troupe only grows stronger for each ego that feeds that beast. The fact that group has two of this companies championship prizes makes me sick to my very core, while we in the Shoot Nation have time and time again been deprived of said honors because of that very group. I was robbed of the Heritage Championship, and when it came back around in a non-championship match Khmaoch Sângkât was defeated by the K-Dynamite. He only holds the championship right now because John Doe refuses to have his underlings fight for themselves. At Exodus, he did the same thing against our leader, Jaydane Pendragon." Jaydane simply nods at the acknowledgement, agreeing with the sentiments being made on his behalf before Kawada continues. "Aria Jaxon, yet another talent who had made the jump from the west to be apart of this company only to show her true colors and spit on everything we stand for. The honor of the belt that rests on her waist is not only tainted, it's a paper-thin honor. And it's telling. Telling how, out of both members of the Phantom Troupe they could have hand selected to be our inaugural Puroresu Heavyweight Champion, and I assure you that with the heist they pulled it was very much their call, they picked Aria Jaxon over CM Nas. Perhaps because they are afraid he might defect with the title and brag about it elsewhere like he does with that other plate of gold he possesses. Or perhaps they have noticed the chip that weighs on his shoulder that would only weigh them down if they added more to the pile, knowing that Pendragon was mere inches away from taking what the Phantom Troupe wanted and Nas wasn't able to prevent that on his own. Whatever the reason might be, the point isn't that they cherry-picked and heavily assisted their fraudulent excuses for champions, the point is who they decided to screw over in the process." Kawada gestures to the Shoot Nation members that are standing behind him, the ones who were here before the hiatus and those who joined afterwards, all of them looking quite determined in their stature. "These men, and woman, have been the victim of this charade that the Phantom Troupe has our number. These are the people that hear the jeers from our more vocal fanbase and members of our roster that the Shoot Nation is a hardly-existant entity in this promotion, that we are a joke. No, we are the butt of nobodies joke. The Phantom Troupe has waged a war against the Shoot Nation soldiers that they possess too much cowardice to win. With the Heaven's Arena tournament, they have no choice but to fight these battles alone. And that is when the Phantom Troupe is at their weakest; divided - alone - with the odds even. They have required handicaps to get this far, and I can assure you that the Phantom Troupe will NOT be walking away with another honor by the time the Heaven's Arena tournament culminates. That will be an honor the Shoot Nation will have. And we are going to white-wash this idea that the Phantom Troupe is our superior. Because I believe in the men and women who stand beside me in this unit, something John Doe will never have for the men and women who are foolish enough to stand by his side. And if John Doe is listening I want him to listen good. You can only lurk in the shadows for so long before I sniff you out. You can only run and hide for so long before I eventually get my hands on you. And if I have to go through each and every single member of your group to do it, so be it. You are not exempt from justice, and it will be served to you on a silver platter. As it will be served to CM Nas on the 14th. As it will be served towards any member of the Phantom Troupe that encounters a Shoot Nation member in this tournament. As it will be served to your paper champions once we get our rightful shots at them. In the mean time, the goal is simple. Pick them off one by one."

So, on behalf of the Shoot Nation -- CM Nas... John Doe... Aria Jaxon and the rest of the Phantom Troupe!"
on April 4th 2018, 1:54 amThe Apparition
*The strong smell of cherry blossoms filled the air across the province of Saitama, as spring finally began to peak in the prefecture. Across sprawling industry and the hectic existence that was every day Japanese life, relics of the past still lingered*
*As a masked figure walked through a lone oasis of tradition, it was difficult to attach oneself to any sense of nostalgia with everything else going on in the background. Thick city air coated the area, despite the attempts of the surrounding flora to sift it out, and the regular rattling of a nearby bullet train cast away any disillusions of a complete throwback to the pre-Meiji Era*
*As the now robe-clad national foreigner said a prayer of respect to his ancestors, masked in the radiance of the sunset a new player stood with a look of mild bemusement, as she casually adjusted her designer glasses and shifted her Gucci shoes impatiently on the ground*
“Hello, sister,” the dull and droll Canadian accent rung out to echo ever so slightly around the centre of the shrine.
“Hello, brother” an eerily similar regional twang retorted.
“I never took you for the spiritual type. In fact, I seem to remember you being quite different when you were still at University”
*The Apparition stood up from his knees, and quickly adjusted his back and shoulders. Turning around, he did not flinch as he began to approach his more regal looking sister. A few nosey spectators did have some pause for thought, but didn’t make too much of it. If such an elegantly dressed business woman was approached by some masked figure in worn-out robes that would be cause for concern. It being done the other way just made both siblings odd*
“People change I guess?” the enigmatic figure said with a shrug, “Look. All I know is if our ancestors were in any way like Mum and Dad…Well, I’d rather keep in their good graces, and not risk anything with them”
“Hmm. True enough. But come now. Just our parents? You’re not going to include your terrifying sister in that mix? She used to be a professional wrestler, remember?”
“For like two months, if I remember. Granted, I should be more afraid of her awful personality and hair trigger. And is it any wonder she can’t get a husba…Ouch”
*Even though he braced for it, The Apparition was still taken aback by the stiff smack incurred on the back of her head. His equally mouthy sister almost fell over on a broken heel with all the effort she put behind it. Yes, she may have been a cleanskin, but the former and short-lived in-ring performer still packed a punch*
“You are right though”
“I mean, if you didn’t work so hard, it wouldn’t be difficult for you to find…”
“No you idiot. About the wrestling. You were the one who was made for it, not me. I still don’t know how you can wake up in the morning with all of the bruises and back pain. I was going through Deep Heat like sunscreen, and pain medication like tic tacs only a couple of weeks in”
“Eh. You get used to it eventually. Unfortunately. There is a lot of things you get used to. You never got the voices, did you?”
“The voices?”
“You got out at the right time. Yeah, the voices. Why do you reckon so many people in wrestling are jerks? The more knocks to the head you get, the looser your inhibitions come. The idea of punishing up your jerk of a co-worker no longer becomes a hidden desire. At some points, it becomes a necessity. Yeah, you have your psychopaths relishing the opportunity of violence, but this is primarily an industry for the desperate and those who have something to prove. You need to prove yourself, or else you are simply stuck in a hellish middle ground where you are unable to grow as not only a performer, but as a person. You need to get better. You need to become the best. It consumes you in the end. Especially if you are so obviously not the best. After years of chasing brass rings, and even collecting a few in the process, the difference between your professional self and personal self becomes a blurred line. You look at the abyss, and the abyss stares back at you. You fight monsters for so long, that you become one yourself. The worst parts of yourself begin speaking up, and suddenly your mind is haunted by the thought ‘Well why not?’”
“Well someone has been reading Nietzsche, haven’t they? So those times you went balmy…What was that?”
“Come on. We both know what that was. It’s our family curse. Father wouldn’t let us be anything else. Hell, if I didn’t have those brass rings I did manage to collect, I’d probably be out of the will by this point. You know, if I’m not already. It’s the same thing that you have been pushed into, only with less chair shots. Wrestling is still a business. If you can’t get to the top on your own merits…Well, you must know what I am talking about, don’t you?”
*The corporate sibling of SSW’s newest wrestler began to freeze up on the chilling parallels. Up until this time, she had avoided thinking of such things. Why she was what she was. Why her brother was why he was. Why she briefly followed in her brother’s footsteps, before quickly moving away back to her own path*
“So…Why? Why are you back? Those horrible things you did. We both know they aren’t you. Why are you risking it again? How do you know this won’t just happen again?”
“I mean, you know the answer. I don’t. For all I know I could break down next week and revert to my wicked nationalistic ways. But the thing is…I think I am onto something this time around. I actually have something I want to accomplish, and it has given me a purpose to actually be here”
“Yeah. And what is that. That you’re the best? That you should be respected?"
“That it wasn’t a fluke. That when I was at my best I was still me, that I can achieve what I need to through my own power, and to prove that I am as good as I think I am”
*The air went silent for a second, as it seemed like even the surrounding traffic and transportation fell to a stop. As both siblings stared at each other for a second, the younger woman let out an involuntary titter, and was doing all she could to contain a deep belly laugh. With her incredible will-power still managed to quickly settle herself down, but not before wiping a tear from her eye and refusing to stare into the eye holes of her older sibling’s mask*
“Yeah. That is basically why I was sent here for. I guess you pass. Which is good, because I would probably have needed to beat your arse to get you back to Ottawa anyway. Alright, well if you are serious, enjoy your journeys, oh noble warrior. Try not let the voices counsel you in the wrong direction”
“I’m too old and stubborn to give you the satisfaction”
*A gust of wind suddenly hit as the siblings embraced one final time. The cherry blossoms circled around them, before blowing away in the breeze*
*The camera fades to black*
on April 3rd 2018, 10:19 pmEndeavor

Endeavor sits in an airport terminal.  He's dressed comfortably in a t-shirt and jeans, his hair pulled back under a bandanna.  He scrolls through his phone for a moment until he finds his voicemail messages.  Selecting it, he puts the phone to his ear and a baritone voice comes through the small speaker.

"Hey, Travis!  I hear you're going on a big trip.  Just wanted to touch base with you and wish you luck.  I know things haven't always been the easiest for you recently, but I just wanted to make sure that you remember that your big brother will always be in your corner.  There have been times where I've wanted to strangle you, but in the end, I only want you to be happy.  I've always wanted to see you succeed.  I know since Dad left things have been hard on all of us.  I feel like I've failed you, Mom, and everyone because for a long time, I put myself above the family.  I should've been there more since Dad never was.  And I'm sorry I wasn't.  But I'm here now.  I may not be able to completely make up for the past, but I'm gonna do my best to make the future of our family better.  So, Travis, you go knock 'em dead out there.  Win all those titles.  I'll take care of Ma and everyone else here.  And if you're feeling down or alone or you just want to talk, just give your big brother Ash a call.  I don't care what time it is.  Love you.  Bye!"

Endeavor takes the phone from his ear and looks at for a moment, his face impassive.

"Yo, Ender!"

A man's shout breaks Endeavor from his thoughts and he looks towards the voice, a smile spreading across his face.  A man walks into view, tall and muscular with neatly trimmed dark hair and a dark goatee, both shot with grey and giving him a distinguished look.  As Endeavor stands, the man envelopes him in a crushing bearhug.

Endeavor: "Geez, Sean.  I wasn't sure you guys were going to make it.  My flight's almost ready to board."

A woman walks into view.  She has pale blonde hair and is dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt which do little to hide the pregnant bulge of her stomach.  Her face bears a slight resemblance to Endeavor's.

Woman: "Don't let him tell you that it was my fault.  I was ready on time.  It was this prima donna that took too long."

Sean: "Hush, Kyrie.  What does it matter?  We got here, didn't we?"

Endeavor extricates himself from Sean's hug and moves over to Kyrie, opening his arms to hug her.  Instead, she sidesteps him and pummels his arm with her fist, punctuating each word with a strike.

Kyrie: "Why.  Are.  You.  Leaving.  So.  Soon.  You.  Bastard."

Endeavor:  "Hey!  Ow!  Ow!  Watch it!  Your fist is a lot sharper than it used to be before you got that rock on your finger."

Kyrie stops a moment and checks the engagement ring on her finger, making sure it's alright, before hitting Endeavor again in the arm.

Kyrie: "Why do you have to leave so soon after getting out?  You're going to Japan?  That's ridiculous.  You're going to miss our wedding, and the birth of your nephew or niece, and Mom's going to miss you.  Why are you so selfish, Travis?"

Endeavor rubs his arms where his sister had assaulted him, wincing more from her words than from her strikes.

Endeavor:  "I know.  I'm sorry.  But it's just something that I have to do.  I need to get away from here, and get into a different head space.  Japan is about as far as you can go.  Plus, I dunno, there's something about this place that speaks to me.  These Ronin may be a little goofy and a little weird, but it just feels right."

Sean: "Also, that Tarah Nova is pretty hot."

Kyrie jabs an elbow into Sean's midsection.

Sean: "Ooof- but not as hot as you, love.  Eeesh.  You've got some nice curves, but I really gotta watch out for those edges and points."

Kyrie goes for another elbow, but Sean is prepared for it and dances out of her reach, putting his hand on Endeavor's shoulder and subtly guiding him in between himself and his fiance.

Sean: "But seriously, even though I'm going to miss the heck out of you, Ender, I totally support what you're doing.  You've hit rock bottom, man, but you're looking better and more focused than you have in a long time.  Being here is only going to remind you of your past mistakes.  Hell, if it wouldn't be the cause of my imminent demise, I might actually come out of retirement and join you.  But you gotta get out there, stand on your own, make something of yourself.  If Japan is where you think you gotta be, then it's where you gotta be.  Just know, you'll always have a place with us.  Especially if that place is by the diaper changing station."

Kyrie finally gives in and steps towards Endeavor, giving him a hug.

Kyrie: "Ugh.  Why does he have to be right?  Fine.  I'm going to miss you, little brother."

Endeavor: "I'm going to miss you too.  I'll call often, I promise."

Kyrie: "You better."

Suddenly, Endeavor stiffens and goes pale.

Endeavor: "Sam?"

Kyrie and Sean turn to look in the direction that Endeavor is looking in.  A tall, slight teenage girl comes into view.  She's dressed in skinny jeans and an oversized green hoodie.  Her hair is dyed a pale blue and her lip is pierced, but there is an uncanny resemblance between her and Endeavor.  With a squeak, Kyrie embraces her.

Sam: "Hi, Auntie.  Uncle Sean.  Dad."

Endeavor's posture becomes much more uncomfortable.  He scratches his arm nervously and cranes his neck, looking behind his daughter.

Endeavor: "Where's your mother?"

Sam: "I dunno.  Home, probably."

Kyrie: "How did you-"

Sam: "Uber."

Endeavor approaches his daughter as Sean and Kyrie take a few steps back, giving them some space.  Endeavor looks her up and down, bewildered expression on his face.

Endeavor: "You shouldn't be here.  Your mom doesn't want me to see you.  She's got good reasons for that too.  I never really was cut out for parenting ... or any relationships really."

Sam: "You think I give a shit what she wants?  You get out of prison, see me a couple times, and then think that you can skip the country without saying 'good-bye'?"

She holds his gaze, staring defiantly with tears in her eyes.  Endeavor embraces her, holding her tight as she sobs into his jacket.

Endeavor: "You're right, I'm sorry.  Good-bye, Sam.  But not forever.  I'll be back.  And hopefully when I come back, I'll be a better man.  You've grown to be a wonderful young woman, and much as you hate to admit it, that's your mother's doing.  She loves you.  And she's done better at raising you than I could ever dream of doing myself.  You be strong, like her.  Okay.  And I'll try to be strong like you."

Sam: "You better come back."

Endeavor: "Promise."

A voice comes over the PA, letting people know that a flight to Tokyo, Japan, is boarding.

Endeavor: "That's my flight, Princess."

Reluctantly, he pulls away from Sam and shoulder's his luggage.  Kyrie and Sean come back, giving him a parting hug.

Kyrie: "Good luck!"

Sean: "Knock 'em dead!"

Endeavor turns and walks away, waving.  Just before reaching the boarding station, he looks back, locking eyes with his daughter.  He gives her a wink and a lopsided grin.

Sam: "I'll be watching!"

Endeavor nods and boards the plane, beginning his journey.
on March 30th 2018, 11:02 pmAria Jaxon

Ya know, I thought we were way past the days of public executions being viewed as some next-level form of entertainment, but like my great-grandma used to say, there’s nothing new under the sun. Rarely ever does shit disappear completely. Often, it just takes on new forms -- from the Coliseum battles back in Rome to guillotining members of the nobility in France, and now, in living color in 2018, Jaydayne Pendragon meets his end at the hands of The Phantom Troupe. What separates this from all the aforementioned shit is that with everything pertaining to days past, there was never any confusion as to what would happen. The people walking to their doom KNEW what they were in for. Whether they accepted it is probably another matter altogether, but there was never any question as to how things would end. But this? It’s been dressed up as something so much nicer. Depending on who you ask, Jaydayne Pendragon is about to walk into a marquee event, turn the odds on their heads, and reach SSW’s pinnacle on a grand stage. Tomorrow night is being called many things, but the dumbest among our ranks are dancing around the matter at hand, calling that main event match anything but what it truly is. So allow your Queen to clear up any confusion that may have clouded your feeble minds.

Those people watching in Saitama and around the world shouldn’t be keeping their eyes peeled for their hero’s coronation.

They’re all on hand to witness his execution.

From day one, The Phantom Troupe has never bullshitted about our intentions, and I’m saying this even in relation to the faction’s goals and aspirations before I ever joined its ranks. John Doe assembled this group with a simple enough list of intentions in mind -- to stand tall as the unquestioned rulers of Strong Style Wrestling, laying waste to every single person who dared oppose us en route to holding all the cards and calling all the shots. Phantom Troupe V1 was hard enough to get a handle on, but the way our lineup looks now? There isn’t another collection of athletes on this roster that measures up. Any combination of two would be more than well-equipped enough to take Pendragon’s head off his shoulders, but I think there’s a particular sort of misfortune that comes with having to deal with Nas and I in the same match. Jaydayne, you’ve got it in your mind that us chasing after the same thing will be our undoing once this match shifts into high gear, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. As I told you before, we’re both realistic enough to understand the fact that we’re working toward the common goal of making sure our faction lords over all else. That’s two bloodthirsty competitors seeing a way to their goals through ending you. Two possible ways you can meet a gruesome fate. Two giant reasons why Shoot Nation’s journey toward the summit starts and ends at Exodus.

I know all about being crippled, so don’t presume that I’m standing here talking to you as a woman who’s never known what it was like to compete with a handicap. Mine was just of the less conventional variety. When you think of setbacks, you think of the physical ones that keep your fiance’s brother or Stephen Hawking confined to a wheelchair. It was only recently that I overcame my own handicap, and ironically, it happens to be the same thing that’s gonna get you hurt this weekend. I’m diagnosing you with the same thing that used to get my heart broken all the fucking time. You got hero syndrome, Jaydayne. And in spite of all that I’ve managed to do and as far as I’ve managed to go, it was never fair how much heartache I had to endure just because of all the times I tried to do the right thing. If I was content with being that girl, well, I wouldn’t be standing here right now, and you might actually stand a snowball’s chance in hell of leaving Saitama with gold around your waist. I look at you and I see who I used to be. All those noble good intentions, the foolish optimism...I’ve grown to HATE that shit. And by proxy, maybe I hate you. Or maybe I don’t know you well enough yet to even feel that way. You think you know myself and Nas, though, because you’re talking like you’ve got all the answers when you say we showed up on SSW’s doorstep as bitter people. You got everything fucked up. We came into this company with a new lease on our professional lives, ready to finally live up to all of our God-given potential without having to worry about other people’s feelings. That’s more liberating than you’ll ever know. And before you get ready to burn us at the stake for flaunting our high profiles and critically-lauded careers, do you think your bosses weren’t THRILLED to have people like us on their payroll? International superstars who could bring more eyes onto their product? The almighty dollar seems to be alluding you -- you DID admit to being pretty damn broke -- but I can’t say I know what that’s like, not at this point in my life. This match will turn out to be everything that you hate. Someone like me, the antithesis of the values of you, your faction, and perhaps this promotion, will be sauntering away with the thing you want most in this world right now. You’ll fail everyone who’s placed their faith in you, and the woman who takes you out is gonna saunter away with a fat check for having done so.

If SSW is your home, then this is representative of Phantom Troupe kicking in the front door, foreclosing on the house, and taking everything you hold dear. And you should consider yourself lucky, because the band aid is getting ripped off for you fairly early into our conquests. You’re one of the warning shots. You’re the example to warn later victims of what they can expect if they catch themselves feeling brave enough to put up a fight. The fight you’re in for just happens to be you can’t win.
on March 30th 2018, 10:29 pmCM Nas
Rick Walton: Ladies and name is Rick Walton. And I am here tonight once again as the representative of The Best! Wrestler! Alive! C! M! NAAAAASSSSSSSS!

CM Nas: Thank you, Thank you Rick. You are far too kind.

Rick Walton: The pleasure is all mine Nas. Now let’s get straight to business this time around. No toiling around about any extra details. Just the meat of the conversation. Jaydayne Pendragon and the SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship!

CM Nas: Right Right. Because you see ladies and gents. I was hoping to be getting as much rest as possible for the big match tomorrow. But instead I have to sit here near damn midnight and tell Jaydayne Pendragon how much of a damned fool he is and why he could have just taken the easy way out of this. But true to his Shoot Nation mentality he HAD to push things further and now he’s going to have to face far graver consequences than he otherwise would have. Because you see Jaydayne, normally a man of MY STATURE should never HAVE to sit here and rush his thoughts out late at night against someone such as yourself. Yet here I am. Why is that exactly? Well it is quite simple my...well not friend. Let’s say my victim. Sure whatever. Jaydayne, I’m doing all of this because I want that SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship more than you could possibly imagine. 


CM Nas: Exactly. That is why I am doing this. That is why your destruction is inevitable at Exodus. But you had to keep on going. You couldn’t just leave well enough alone. You had to stand up and try and be “the hero”...and trust me Jaydayne. If anyone understands that mindset, it would be me. But that’s where your downfall comes in Mr. Pendragon. I know everything you’re trying to do, because I have been there and done that. I am of a whole different level from that now however. I have risen to a new tier of power! I AM NO LONGER A MERE MORTAL MAN LIKE YOURSELF! I HAVE GROWN FROM A MAN...TO A GOD! So I get it. You cannot help that you do not understand why I am the way that I am or why I do the things that I do. And that is fine, because I have given all of those who do not outright understand me like my fellow Phantom Troupe members two options. Follow my gospel, or perish as I mold the world into the image I see for it. And there’s not a single man who could oppose me or my motives. You can try, but you’ll simply be what I previously referred to you example. I preached the holy word for the future of the world of wrestling and most specifically Strong Style Wrestling moving forward through 2018 and even further beyond. And those who do not take my divine hand and join me shall be eradicated! And that is your fate now Jaydayne Pendragon. However the most unfortunate part for you in specific is...I was not the outright cause of your destruction. You brought this upon yourself! You doomed yourself to eternal damnation if you would. I am simply the one who must send you down to those fiery depths. 

Rick Walton: Your fate is to be crushed underneath the oppressive boot of The Best Champion Alive! C! M! NAS! HE AND THE PHANTOM TROUPE RULE THE WORLD OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING AND NOT A  SINGLE DAMNED PERSON CAN CHANGE THAT! Most certainly not a fool who is too stupid to realize he faces impossible odds. Mr. Pendragon, my client didn’t want this to become personal with you. He simply wanted to do business. Have a classic matchup for a World Championship and turn spiteful doubters into devout believers. That is what he has done in every promotion he has ever stepped foot in. Strong Style Wrestling will be NO DIFFERENT! He shall have literally every single fan of this promotion eating from the palm of his hand in no time at all. Buying his merchandise. Cheering his name unendingly. Praying for his victory in every encounter he ever has. And longing to see no other man or woman on the Planet Earth carry the Strong Style Wrestling Puroresu Heavyweight Championship other than NASIR THE DESTROYER!

CM Nas: Well said Rick. You see for those that were wondering that is why Rick is here. Not to be some sort of “insurance policy” during matches. Because I don’t need that sort of thing. I’m The Best. A literal God of this industry. Why would someone of my ability need assistance to win matches? Well it is quite simple...I DON’T NEED ANY HELP! Ergo, Rick Walton is not here to cheat on my behalf. You see what those who love and follow Strong Style Wrestling are going to learn is that I can do whatever I please, whenever I please to, and you will all cheer my name like the deity I am. I am so beloved in the United States. I could throw a sack of puppies into a shark tank then piss in it and they’d all wildly cheer my name as if I was their personal guardian angel. There’s a very specific reason for that. I am their saviour! I rescued them from the mediocrity that they had to stomach through before I arrived! I showed them what true wrestling is and how it should be done every time...and they love me eternally for it. That is the fate of the Strong Style Wrestling fans. I will have ALL OF JAPAN ON THEIR KNEES BOWING BEFORE MY GREATNESS! I am their God Saviour, they are the clueless fans who will soon learn what is true divine justice, and as for you Pendragon? You are nothing more than the mediocrity that they are currently suffering through. I shall save them from YOU at Exodus AND claim the SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship at the exact same time! How shall I do this you may be wondering? destroying you, duh. I am the God of Destruction after all.

on March 30th 2018, 9:01 pmJaydayne Pendragon
⚔️In a dark lightly lit room, back to the camera Pendragon sits on the floor cross legged before a laptop surrounded by papers and his mask. An audible female kissing sound is made as a goodbye as the lights of the laptop go out, and Pendragon grabs the top of the laptop, lingering for a small moment hesitating to close it, caught in the moment. One with a keen eye would notice Pendragon isn’t wearing his half face paint at the moment. He closes the laptop, and then grips at his mask. Standing up he places the mask on, turns to the camera, and sits the traditional seiza style. ⚔️

Crippling……crippling anxiety, crippled in body, crippled in the mind, and crippled in health, these are things known to many in the world who have their lives blocked by some sort of daunting problem they face. Crippling is the term used to describe my world outside of that ring, my personal life in which I’m paying off bills for my fiancée’s brother, said by a crass individual to take a jab at the reality I live in.

When I first met my fiancée, I was a boy who knew of tradition and nobility, but knew nothing about the wonders nor the hardships of life. I practiced the blade, I adhered to rituals, but in her aglow eyes I received what gives a man true purpose, and through her smile found the warm welcoming of home. She could breathe life into a machine when the soul inside since birth gasped for air, and was kind enough to tinker with what should have been considered too rigid to draw any attention from a high spirited individual. Yet her family struggled, she had to be a pillar for her own, yet had the dazzling power leftover to enchant a man like myself. Witnessing such majestic poise in face of the world is like finding a flower blooming in the Arctic, in front of that how could I dare be a man down in the dumps who folds in front of a few hardships in the form of these bills you see at my side?

And if her brother, a mere boy, can fight illness everyday, how could I expect her to look at me with any sense of value if I couldn’t find the fight in me to take the two of you on for just one match?

No Jaxon, I won’t be giving up my ways just because you two claim to be united in my destruction, I won’t pretend my life isn’t worth living outside of that ring just because my wallet is as thin as the hair at the top of your head.

But if you want to use the term crippling, know that what cripples can also be what makes a person uncrippled if wielded the right way. Like a sword, it only needs the right master.

I walk in line behind many great masters. Take for example, your western recently passed legend in Stephen Hawking who was confined to a chair with a crippled body, this uncrippled him to dedicate his life towards the sciences and gave him the ability to inspire countless other impaired people to know there was a path to greatness in their lives. Much like he did for them, much like my fiancée and her kin do for me as I see them represent this lifestyle, I wish to have that type of role for people in Strong Style Wrestling, be it for people in that crowd or in that locker room! Even my defeat in the match with Bang and the pesky Santiago builds up my resolve. There are things one cannot do if they are too perfect, people they cannot reach if they are too privileged and untroubled, so let these flames that burn be the ones to forge my steel ever shaper! I will show that pain can make a person greater! Not that the two of you would know anything about that. Undisciplined, the crippling effects of life made the two of you into the types of people that make people avoid conflict, what makes people believe their troubles will led them to never find true happiness nor a proper way of life. You’re bitter, resentful, and craven because the world was once unjust to you, what do you think people think when they hear the two of you speak? The business made you into two people that travelled across the world simply to showcase that you’re full of hate and willing to throw away your dignity now just for an easy way to get ahead, is that how you planned for your careers to be when you began? Is this what you wish to show the other side of the world you’re being introduced to? Petty, and simple.

You may call me a nobody as you wish, but today I didn’t come to your home seeking fame and fortune, you came to mine.

This isn’t to say I don’t welcome foreigners, for the woman I love and because of the hafu that I am that’d be hypocritical, here in SSW I am a fitting bridge for the East and the West. My role as leader of Shoot Nation is to welcome those foreign from these lands with a fair opportunity because I know what it means to come from the West, and yet through my lineage also ensure that the values of Japan are not trampled on by cretins like yourselves. Shoot Nation is an open tent for all who wish to represent and learn our ways, from Belle and the Apparition to our mentor Masanori Kawada, you can underestimate us, but you will feel our resolve and you will receive casualties in the red strife waged upon you! My heart pure as puroresu, bleeds for the true unblemished spirit of this sport, I have no patience for a so-called god that claims to accept second place nor the girl who’d entertain the boy as a friend in their questionable endeavors! Come to me as one, but all know that in that ring you will be cut into two! Then, the world will witness the crowning of a champion.

⚔️The screen splits in two at the sound of a swishing sword into a black screen with Pendragon’s mask, then nothing. ⚔️
on March 30th 2018, 2:42 pmRacer Smiles

[Racer Smiles is in the SSW dojo weight room warming up for his deadlift at 765 lbs. He pulls the weight and pulls his hips into a standing position and the bar starts bending.]


[He sets the weight down and goes over to his gym bag.]

Hey you! Young boy, get your ass over here!

[A young boy comes over to Racer Smiles and Racer hands him 110,000 Yen)

Give this to whoever’s in charge of the equipment and tell them to buy some bars that can handle real weight! You got that?

[Racer points to the bent barbell on the ground]

Yoriyoi bā! Jisshitsu jūryō! Go tell Brian Daniels or whoever the fuck!

[The nervous young boy takes the money and runs off to tell a trainer]

Quelle blague…

Good thing that a week of weak equipment won’t make me too weak to show my opponents what raw strength and power can do. I don’t care what a hasbeen and a neverwas have to say about it. The idea that anyone thinks I’m overconfident is laughable. The fact that it seems like before now this crap was good enough to make anyone stronger makes me think I’m giving you all too much credit. I can barely even overhead press. Why do I even need to explain myself?

[Racer motions towards the bent bar on the ground]

Imagine what’s gonna happen to whoever is unlucky enough to get caught in the hands of the freak that did that. Tarah Nova has done a lot and I respect that, hell I bet she packs a punch but what is she realistically going to do when I get my hands on her? And Piero, what’s he gonna do period? Other than run? HA! He may be husky but that bar has more than three times his body weight on there so best believe I could break him like a toothpick just like I could his lanky reject advisor. I could toss him across the ring with one hand. Why is there a question to whether or not I can back up my claims? My resume speaks for itself.

Like I said before, I don’t even need Chase to win a championship in my first match in SSW and change the fact that I currently have zero citable in ring accomplishments. If he doesn’t hold me back or somehow manages to contribute to our victory I can’t realistically understand how we could possibly be toppled by a few of SSW’s resident gang of misfits. Against Tres Comas Club? Now I’ve only just arrived but I know that Tres Comas is a group of prized fighters. We’re not the biggest faction on the grounds but that’s because we don’t just let anyone in. Even Chase has done a pretty good job at getting under your skin so at least he’s good for something.

[André Virgo walks by in workout gear and headphones.]

Well speak of the devil, there goes a Tres Comas OG! The breathtaking André!... Vir!... Go!...

[André pats Racer on the shoulder and keeps moving forward with focus]

Hm. Would have thought the “Stolen Breath” would be more… Ya’know...

I think I’ve made myself clear. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to find the heaviest dumbbells this place has got and try to get a pump.
on March 30th 2018, 11:12 amGuest
My attention is only ever on what’s important.

An interview with pointless questions about my debut are not important.

Winning championship gold in my first outing, however… that’s very important. I may not hold my attention for the redundant questions about “how I expect to make an impact” or “what I expect to accomplish” but they get the same answer from every single person unless it’s that fake “oh I’m here because I love wrestling”. If these people weren’t getting paid they wouldn’t do it. I’m here to win titles, get girls and make bank. It’s as simple as that. The formalities don’t interest me, especially when the person asking the questions’ greatest success is interviewing someone like me. They’re simply not worth my time.

Then again, I could very well be contradicting myself because Tarah Nova is edging very close to crossing that line. I honestly couldn’t care less that Racer agrees with what you have to say because when Tres Comas Club is holding those Freebird Championships because of me his tone is going to change very quickly. You, though, Tarah, are a different beast altogether. You spoke up and told me that you weren’t offended by what I had said, that I was unoriginal and a “fuckin fool” yet you still spent, what, five minutes talking about it? Sooner or later the facade falls and it becomes clear that, despite your denial, I’m getting to you. You’re right, nothing that I had to say about you was original and I’m sure you’ve heard it a million times before… BUT THAT’S THE POINT, TARAH. It’s getting to you because of that, not despite it. You know that I’m not the first and I won’t be the last and knowing you’re going to continue to have this kind of abuse thrown at you just makes you angrier. You can tell me I’m wrong as much as you like but the words coming out of your mouth tell a much different, sadder story. You’re a bad liar, honey, but you’re even worse at trying to patronize me. If there’s one thing I won’t sit here and take, it’s someone who doesn’t even know me trying to question my masculinity and call me a coward when I’ve never been disqualified for cheating or walked out on a match. It’s easy to tell that you’re quick to listen to rumors without any factual information to back them up. You really put your foot in it there, huh? But just so we’re clear, I’ll tell you again: I am not a coward. I’m the God damn man and if you still have anything to say about it I’ll face you here, I’ll face you there, I’ll face you anywhere you damn well please and prove you wrong over and over and over again.

You know what the best part about all this back-and-forth is though? Now, when I beat you, I’ll know that your little sister is watching you get your ass handed to you by the same guy you thought was just some dweeb in a leather jacket. How embarrassing would that be, knowing that you’ve talked so much trash to me only to fall short while your baby sister is sat at home still trying to cheer you on. If I were you I’d go home, apologise to her right now because by the time Exodus is over I don’t think she’d see you as the big, strong, faux-Goth superhero Tarah Nova that she’s grown up with. Instead all she’ll be looking at is just another disappointment in a family that I’m sure has already had plenty. Then I’m sure all of that talk about not needing your EAW accomplishments to fall back on will mean nothing and you’ll go back to using them as a crutch because they’re all you’ve got left. All the while you’ll be looking back at this moment as the day that everything that went wrong because you made the biggest mistake anyone could ever make.

You showed Tres Comas Club your hand and made yourself vulnerable.

In fact, I don’t even need to talk about the way you look anymore… although I do wish I’d said Craigslist earlier. Craigslist is the trashier one, right? The one where people pretend to sell you their shit
and stab you? Yeah, I think that probably would have suited you better.

I can just tell that this “clean slate” business you blurted out already means nothing because you still stand like someone who thinks they have some kind of authority. You’ve gone so far to become the “leader” of the Ronin, in fact. That in itself is laughable because what you’re essentially telling me is that you’re in charge of all the wrestlers that no one else wanted! It’s like you’ve just been named the smartest kid in special-ed! It doesn’t mean anything! Especially when you treat yourself as this lone wolf, guarded person despite the fact that not only did you immediately pander to the invisible people around you but you’re dating CM Nas! You just can’t make this stuff up!

Not like any of this matters, right? You’re still gonna kick my ass anyway, right? I’m all talk, RIGHT?

Even if any of that were true (it’s not) I have a guy who’s 5’9” and could bench press a tractor on my side while the marshmallow you’re teaming with is probably going to get sent to prison for the plants he’s growing in his “Bonsai Garden”.

I was born to have gold around my waist and at Exodus you’ll see I’m telling the truth. Unfortunately you’ll be behind the curve... because everyone else already knows it.
on March 30th 2018, 12:29 amKhmoach Sangkat

In my time in Japan, I have come across a concept. A precious value that seems to hold so much purchase both within the sport and amongst the fans. From technique, guile, agility, raw strength and all attributes both physical and mental, men will pick their favourites. Yet, there is one other conceived ingredient of what makes a warrior is honored here above all else almost universally. I speak, of course, of Fighting Spirit. You hear it all the time. When feeble flesh begins to falter and when even the sharpest mind is too punch-drunk to function as it should, you hear that same rallying cry repeated upon the wind. Toukon. Toukon. Toukon. FIGHTING SPIRIT! This romantic conceit remains the rallying cry of countless idealistic fools like the first man to fight me for the SSW Heritage Championship, Masanori Kawada. I can see the appeal. It is alike the tenets of those Western religions wherein the soul is immortal and by freeing it from the perishable temptations and attachments of this world each man can defy death itself. Fighting Spirit posits any man who can succeed in stripping himself down to his purest soul will be incorrigible. Able to surpass his mortal shell and continue on even as every tangible part of himself fails.

Fighting Spirit is a prayer of hope.

In other words, it is a crutch.

Fighting Spirit is a LIE!

While some here will speak of the lightness of their heart or the strength of their unconquerable spirit as if it is just another substitute prick to measure, I believe it is as the Pali scriptures teach us… Any soul that still walks this earth, whether as mortal flesh or as undying ghost, does so for the very same reason… Because we have still not freed ourselves from the attachments that bind us to our suffering. Forget about feathers, souls are lighter than air. They come and go from the body. They can wander to far off places as we sleep. And left to its own devices, the soul would float away, disintegrating happily into the darkness beyond. Amun-Ra tells me it is the lightest hearts that live forever. But I believe that he has gotten things the wrong way around. It is the heavy-hearted that remain upon this earth. Those that do not find release. After all, Nirvana never meant “heaven”. It is not some verdant evergreen field of bliss. And there is no light at the end of the tunnel, only its antithesis. The translation is “blowing out”. In other words, extinction, In other words, Death.

Yes, Son of Ra, my heart is a boulder. This vessel is filled with enough nightmares, memories, regrets, demerits and purposes left unfulfilled to anchor not one but two spirits to this cruel earth. Withholding from each any chance of finding the sweet release of oblivion that they so desperately need. But do not deceive yourself into thinking for a moment that your spirit shines brighter in this regard. Your reasons for being here in SSW are just as vile and base as any other. We are all as lost as eachother, do you not realise? The Tres Comas dogs have come to sate their lust of a wealth that cannot last. Masanori Kawada fought me to alleviate his suffering ego and stand tall not just as glorified product placement but in his own prideful name. And you, while evoking a salvation afforded to light hearts, you choose to weigh down your own with earthly relics and gilded chains. Do you not see the irony here? Perhaps you are confused… Perhaps overzealous embalmers were busy at work while you slept. Twisting the hook inside your nose. Pulling out the useless greymatter because what need is there for reason when the spirit of a God will always rise above the heavy heart? Admit it, Amun-Ra. Our bodies collide in merciless combat over this SSW Heritage Championship not because deep down in our hearts we bear the weight of similar sins. We each live and bleed for the memory of a past blessed to have died before us. We each look back on the good left undone, on the tragedy of a shattered way of life. And pine for a means to make things right and build merit to ease our souls beyond the veil. Whether salvation truly looks like this field of reeds you speak of, or whether it is as I hope this heavy heart and all the suffering it holds being swallowed by some devourer of souls, it matters little, for the blood-stained path remains the same.

Many horrors threaten to scare the soul directly out of my body, yet dread of Amun-Ra is not amongst them. I do not fear you or the myths with which you clothe yourself. I would not shudder even if you WERE a God. I am only afraid that I am not done with the SSW Heritage Championship. My years are getting late but I must still find a way to appease my father’s regretful spirit and ease him on to let this life go. As long as his ghost haunts my dreams and his death hangs heavy on my heart, I WILL REMAIN. Immovable as a boulder. Impervious as stone. The suffering of these hands and the suffering that these hands create, it WILL NOT DIE! So come. Show me your so-called divinity. Overwhelm my senses like the glare of the Sun or the rushing currents of the Nile. Just know that even Gods may learn to pray for death. For while the desert heat will not scorch my back and the waters of the Nile will not flood the arena, the ring WILL fill with blood. And while Egypt’s ancient glories will not appear again each morn like the Sun, the Nightmares of my past will haunt any man who shares the ring with that Phantom Menace, the Daemon of Prey Veng. If you were wise, you would rip that light heart of it’s cage and let it free to float away into the void rather than allow it to suffer my killing fields. But it seems that even “Gods” find it hard to escape the dukkha or mortal attachments.

No matter. It will be to my own merit to release you from the worries of your ambition. Come Exodus, I will be the vehicle which blows out the Son of Sun I will extinguish your cruel passions. And watch your ego die peacefully as the three count marks your slumber.

Your Divine spirit is a lie.

Only the heavy boulder remains embedded in the earth.
on March 29th 2018, 6:55 pmAria Jaxon

The near-deafening hustle and bustle of Tokyo all but disappeared as soon as Aria Jaxon pushed through the front doors of SSW’s main offices. As she stepped over the threshold, she pushed her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose -- despite the characteristic lack of significant sun on a typically mild and slightly cloudy day here in the city. She took a look around the modest but beautifully decorated space and it didn’t take more than a couple of seconds before her eyes fell on the center of the room, where SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship was housed in a glass case on a pedestal, pending it actually being contested for this weekend at Exodus. Standing in front of the case with his back facing Aria was a man much taller than her with dark hair, whose tattoo-covered arms hung loosely at his sides. She smiled to herself before going to stand right beside him. Aria stood on her tiptoes before ruffling his hair and then running a hand through hers. “We match now,” she said breezily, sounding more than a little amused.

CM Nas looked over at her and smirked as he gave her a once-over. “The black hair is a good look. I guess it goes with the whole new package,” he remarked, gesturing to Aria. His eyebrow raised a bit and his voice took on a teasing tone. “Word on the street says you’re a bitch now, so it fits.”

Aria rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Nah, just fed up. If anybody would know anything about that, I’d think it would be you.” She lazily trailed a finger down his arm. “You didn’t have these a few days ago.”

Nas folded his arms across his chest and shrugged. “The changes have been coming non-stop these last few days.” He held out an arm. “Shit like this is just cosmetic, obviously, but it’s just more change to go along with the recurring theme. I feel like I have my freedom for the first time in a long time. I guess shit like this is how people know I feel like a new man.”

The Californian nodded. Of course she empathized. Her life had been wildly different not even a week ago, and it was still difficult to come to grips with. Not necessarily painful, given how happy she was now, but still hard to believe. She felt like she could breathe again, and that was something you couldn’t put a price on. She and Nas had left their previous employer in much the same manner -- in an irate huff, absolutely fed up, and slinging ten pounds of gold over their shoulder as they walked out the door. Now they were standing next to each other halfway around the world and concerned with a different championship altogether. Aria tapped a manicured pastel blue fingernail against the glass pane in front of them and allowed a slight laugh to precede her next words. “Can you believe they got us in the same match for this?”

“Yes and no,” Nas remarked, “Of course they want that name value for the first world title match…”

“Nobody knows who the fuck Pendragon is,” Aria said matter-of-factly.

“I meant us,” the New Jersey native laughed, motioning to the air in between the two of them.

“I know, I know,” Aria lolled. “You wanna give the best the chance to get that first crack at your top title, but it’s also are you gonna put two people from Phantom Troupe in the match against each other?”

Nas took a split second to feign being offended and hurt. “You saying I shouldn’t be here?” he teased.

The Californian shot him a look as if to ask him if he was actually serious when he said that, but the tone of his voice to her otherwise. “I’m saying if there was only room for one of us and I had to go snatch the Jr. Heavyweight belt out from underneath those TCC scrubs instead, I would.”

Nas’ expression softened. “Don’t say that,” he implored with a sigh. “Look, we’re both in the main event and that’s twice as many chances for our faction to take possession of that belt. I feel like that’s the most important thing.”

Aria pursed her lips before turning her attention away from the title altogether and facing Nas. “Look at you, Mr. Team Player. You’re saying you’d lay down for me?”

Nas turned to face her as well, finally uncrossing his arms. “Well…”

The last part of what she’d said hadn’t actually been serious, and she’d hoped he wasn’t actually mulling it over. Aria shook her head, as a way of cutting Nas off without actually interrupting him, sort of. “Nuh uh, we’re not even entertaining the idea. Ixnay on that shit. The best person in that match is gonna win, alright? And it’s gonna be one of us. No matter what, Phantom Troupe is gonna have that title.”

Nas nodded before taking a moment to reply. “I still wanna win as badly as you do.”

“I never doubted that for a second,” Aria laughed.

“Maybe they think we can’t put business first and we’ll do most of Pendragon’s work for him,” he pondered. After a few seconds, a knowing smile creased his expression. “After all, Phantom Troupe’s the worst of the worst, right? The renegades and the assholes?” He shook his head before rubbing his hands together. “They don’t know they just sent this dude off to slaughter.”

Aria smiled. “Well, these two assholes are on the same page here. Don’t worry about it.” She glanced over at the glittering championship behind the glass one last time before standing on her tiptoes once again, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning on her heel and walking back in the direction from which she’d come.


Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.

For my entire career, I’ve been a problem that more than a few people have tried and failed to solve. I was always too small, too young, too cocky, or too whatever the fuck else to have succeeded and to have gotten this far. I suppose that’s why people have gotten so bold over the last number of days. The idea of Aria Jaxon being done and dusted doled out hope to people who were too pathetic to hang onto it by any other means. To all the people who put stock in the gossip, the ones who threw their all into constructing the rumors, the ones who had prayed they’d seen the last of me -- I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, and you can die mad about it.

The fact that I’m standing here is enough to put any whispers of me stepping away to rest. I get it, though. I can understand why there was that tiny sliver of time where people were able to rejoice at the idea that I might really be going away. I tend to shatter people’s sense of security. I make history. I hold entire divisions under my thumb, and without me around? The competition can actually breathe. Halfway around the world, there’s plenty of bitches jumping for joy at the fact that my boot’s not on their throat anymore. Must feel nice not to have their heads held underwater for the first time in damn near three years. In my time with my previous employer, I saw people cut their losses and run away when things didn’t go their way. When they fell flat on their faces and couldn’t own up to their failures, they took their ball and went home. But me? I wasn’t ushered out the door as a failed prospect or a broken woman. I departed with one of the most coveted prizes in the industry, one that I held an unbreakable stranglehold on for the better part of nine months. As far as I’m concerned, the coveted trophy stays with me forever. I defined its lineage. I took it to new heights, and now? Someone else can carry around a cheap imitation.

People will say that I’ve changed, and they’re right. To that, I say three things -- that I own that fact 100%, that I should’ve done it sooner, and that I can’t wait to see how much further I’ll get now that I’ve become the person I always should’ve been. I wasted too much time playing by the rules and being afraid to step on people’s toes. The fact that I accomplished as much as I did despite being preoccupied with people’s feelings is really just a testament to the fact that when I say I’m one of the best wrestlers currently breathing? I MEAN THAT SHIT. I’ve shown up in SSW finally unshackled and unburdened by the expectations of others, and the coming out party for the most ruthless woman in this company, the unquestioned Queen of Strong Style Wrestling, is a main event opportunity befitting someone of my stature. The writing on the marquee will say that it’s a triple threat match for the SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship, and anybody stupid enough not to know better wouldn’t even dig beneath the surface. The truth is that this match is a gift-wrapped chance shoved in Phantom Troupe’s direction to show exactly why nothing of note will happen in this company without one of our members present. They wanted to put the best of the best in this title match, and does anyone think it’s a coincidence that two people from the same faction are standing front and center? I mean, where’s Ronin’s rep? Or are those playing it safe, middle-of-the-road ass motherfuckers even in possession of enough determination to reach this point? Tres Comas Club isn’t anywhere in sight, either, and that’s fucking hilarious. They’re the ones pegged as future world champions by investors with deep pockets, and not a single one of their financial sugar daddies could scrounge up the change to buy any one of them a slot in a big ticket match. As it turns out, there was only one other faction in this company who apparently had a member who had any business standing across from Nas and I.

So here stands Jaydayne Pendragon, the leader of Shoot Nation, promising that he’s about to defy the odds, slay the evil dragons sent in by Phantom Troupe, and claim SSW’s top prize for his boring ass group of altruistic idiots. With this company having come dangerously close to no longer existing not too long ago, Jaydayne’s christened himself the one to push it into the future and make sure SSW is never on life support again. It’s cute. If I didn’t know any better, I’d buy into what you were saying completely. I’m gonna warn you of this one time, and one time only -- this ain’t a fairytale. There is no happy ending here. I know exactly what you’re expecting. You think you’re about to walk into Saitama Super Arena, defy the odds, outsmart both Nas and myself, and walk away with all the marbles. You said yourself that you don’t think we can hold it together when the stakes are this high. You’re expecting the two of us to be so preoccupied with winning that we turn on each other mid-match, but I wouldn’t hang my hat on that if I were you. At the end of the day, both he and I accept that SSW is unique in the regard that the factions dominate the landscape. A major win for any one of us is a major victory for our allies, too. He has already admitted that, and so will I. Jaydayne, Phantom Troupe owns the outcome of this match just as we own every other part of the SSW landscape. As far as this match is concerned, nothing is up to you anymore. You’ll survive as long as we allow you to. The best you can hope for is to have enough wherewithal left to have your eyes open long enough to watch one of us walk off with that championship.

“Unworthy”, that’s a funny word to throw around. Even funnier are your reasons for WHY either Nas or myself wouldn’t be worthy of carrying the championship. I mean, as you’ve seen, he and I have more than a little experience in that department, so why would we be the worst choices in the world to hold SSW’s top prize? Ohhhhh, right, because we’re arrogant, power-hungry, and we don’t care enough about other people! For shame. God, cue the violins. Jaydayne, I have to ask you, since you’ve done everything by the book -- what do you have to show for it? What do you have to show me that all your sacrifice and humility and preachy bullshit has been worth it? I saw when you challenged for the Jr. Heavyweight Championship and came up empty-handed. J-Dynasty holds your hand. You leave work and return to the crippling reality of your fiance's brother’s mounting medical bills. This defeat is just another sign you’ll ignore, another omen (not Saul) that maybe you should switch up your approach a little bit. But you won’t. Your hope will get you nowhere this week, and if you’re REALLY unlucky? We’ll take that from you right along with everything else.

Nasir, sweetheart, fellow Phantom Troupe royalty, this match is about us. The truth we both recognize is that Pendragon isn’t walking away with that title. Who knows, maybe he won’t be walking at all. The truth hanging over everyone’s heads is that the SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship will be around the waist of a member of Phantom Troupe. The only question is which one. If you’re the one to bring it all home, I won’t be able to complain. At least that way, the title will be in the possession of the only faction in this company that matters. Ideally, though...I’d love some more shiny gold to add to my collection. Jaydayne is preoccupied with stopping two people he was never really prepared to fuck with. He’s blinded by all his do-gooder nonsense and his futile attempts at nipping Phantom Troupe’s quest for dominance in the bud. But that blade he’s always talking about, his figurative weapon of choice? It’s already pressed against his neck. Now it’s just a matter of seeing which one of us is wielding it.
on March 29th 2018, 2:00 pmCM Nas
Rick Walton: Ladies and name is Rick Walton. And I have arrived here in Strong Style Wrestling to be the representative of the Best! Wrestler! Alive!

CM Nas: AND…


CM Nas: Well Rick my old chum, thank you for that absolutely stellar introduction. It came with such vigor and passion...two things that for the last couple months of my time in the wrestling industry, I didn’t even know if I possessed any longer. However I soldiered on to be all that I could. I wanted to be in the position my superiors were in years prior. I had it all. The in ring ability, the speaking ability, and the overwhelming fan following! I was everything!!

Rick Walton: HE DOMINATED THE WORLD OF WRESTLING! The entire Western Hemisphere bows in awe to the Greatness that is The Modern Day Champion of E-Feds! 

CM Nas: You see I have carried this here EAW Answers World Championship for twenty seven days...AND FOR TWENTY SEVEN DAYS THIS HERE HAS BEEN THE SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT CHAMPIONSHIP IN THE ENTIRE WORLD! Ergo making me the single most important Champion in the entire world of Wrestling...but that should go without saying should it not?

Rick Walton: Only the BEST CHAMPION should be viewed as the most important. It is common sense. An infant could figure it out. But the question I’m sure everyone has Nasir is...why here and why now? Why this time period in Strong Style Wrestling?

CM Nas: Why? A better question is why not? Why do people need to ask me why? I don’t get that. I’m a grown man who can travel around the world and compete wherever he pleases whenever he pleases. I am not shackled down by any one organization. I come and go as I please and compete wherever I choose! And right now that is in Strong Style Wrestling…

Rick Walton: Yes but of course that does not quite answer the question of-

CM Nas: Why? Well once again...because I can. I am the best. So I want to compete with and against the absolute best. Where I was prior to Strong Style...I was not getting that. You see, I spent years living up to the expectations of others, trying to please others. But in my pursuits of acceptance, it finally dawned upon me. Wrestling at that point just was not fun for ME anymore. I lost sight of what was most important. What I WANTED AND HOW I FELT! I got so caught up in all that statistical bullshit that I forgot I got into this business just because I love wrestling and it’s something I dreamed of doing my entire childhood. And as I said...being the best, I only wish to compete against the best. Hence why I am here. The world of wrestling is my oyster. Strong Style Wrestling is NO DIFFERENT despite what others may desire to tell you. As the Modern Day Champion of Efeds and the Best Wrestler Alive, I can come into SSW and do as I please. Take whatever I wish. Harm whoever I see fit. And absolutely nothing can be done about it. You wanna know why?

Rick Walton: Because what promotion would not want to retain the Best?


Rick Walton: No locker room of any other promotion could dare compare to even just you Champ.


Rick Walton: But that’s all fine...because you’ve got it now.

CM Nas: Indeed, and this is merely the beginning! You see THIS HERE CHAMPIONSHIP...this is all the validation I need to show that I am the Greatest Professional Wrestler walking the Planet Earth...arguably EVER! NO ONE CAN MATCH ME NOW! And that brings me to this triple threat contest…

Rick Walton: You take on both fellow Phantom Troupe member Aria Jaxon, and Shoot Nation’s Jaydayne Pendragon. You’ve got no gripes with Miss Jaxon naturally. She’s a fellow Troupe Member and a long time friend of yours. So it’s very obvious what this triple threat match if you could even call it that will be. Aria and My Client establishing the Troupe’s dominance over Strong Style and laying waste to Jaydayne Pendragon. For you see he is simply nothing more than the first example. The first of MANY! Very unfortunate for him because in that warped head of his, he seems to think he even stands a remote chance of not just surviving, but THRIVING against the both of you. Now that’s just adorable. That naive Shoot Nation mentality will make their run in SSW short lived.

CM Nas: He is the first of a literal company filled with fools who will line up to challenge a God...and not survive to tell the story of it. However I will live on. Nas the Destroyer will etch Jaydayne’s name into the list as the first victim. If anything he should view it as an honor. A privilege if you would. To face a talent of my level when I’ve never even heard of the man until now. 

Rick Walton: While you arguably do deserve better for your first entrance into the world of Strong Style, it doesn’t matter because no matter who you face in this promotion it’d end the exact same way Champion.

CM Nas: Naturally. Let’s just put it to bed now. Phantom Troupe rules the World of Wrestling! The validation for this that will be utterly undeniable will be when I climb onto the turnbuckle once the match is over and I hoist up BOTH the EAW Answers World Championship AND the SSW Puroresu Heavyweight Championship high into the air!

Rick Walton: Oh I am sure that it will be just…

CM Nas: TOO SWEET! Oh of course. I plan on claiming victory. But should Aria win the gold, I will have no gripes. However in the end Jaydayne, there’s only one thing that will come to you at Exodus. Your end.

on March 28th 2018, 11:22 pmPiero
Piero and his new friend and trainer, Stark, enter the renowned Ichiraku Ramen stand to discuss Piero’s strategy for his upcoming SSW Freebird Tag Team Championship match while enjoying some god-tier noodle.

Stark: Uh, I understand the narrative you’re trying to sell here but don’t you think it’s just a little disingenuous to call me your friend when you’re actually paying me quite a bit of Yen to train you? I mean if it helps your cause, go ahead.

Piero: Shut up, shut up, shut up. Can we re-shoot that?

Stark: No, it’s live.

Piero: Oh Stark, you and your jokes. No wonder you’re back here instead of off in that concentration camp of an --

Stark: Let’s not bring up that place. Our glorious main eventers are already trying their best to capitalize on their past glory. For me, SSW is my retirement home basically.

Piero: Retirement? You’re younger than I am, and I’m basically just getting started!

Stark: Right, well, that’s what happens when you have an actual lick of talent in your body. Luckily for you though, where talent fails, raw brute force and a little bit of experienced guidance will always help you power through! So let’s get right to it - Lesson One: Know Yourself. So you’re really serious when you’re saying that this is your first title match in your entire 16 year career?

Piero: … Well, yes, but because --

Stark: Because you’re a loser who can’t carry his fat ass to victory.

Piero: HEY!

Stark: You want training? You’re getting the brutal truth. To know yourself, you must acknowledge all your faults. You’re disgustingly unathletic, you have absolutely no ring awareness, you have no in-ring talent, and you barely know how to run the ropes. The moves you do ever manage to land are by sheer luck, and even when they do connect, they do no damage to your opponent. Basically, you’re a worthless failure. Can you accept that, Piero?

Piero: Well, when you put it that way… I guess…

Stark: There’s no guessing here. If you want to get past Lesson One, you must know yourself entirely without a shadow of a doubt. If you cannot accept that you are a failure, then you have no foundation to work with. But you know what the best part about being as worthless of a failure as you are is?

Piero [holding back tears]: What….?

Stark: You’re already at your lowest low. So from here on out Piero, every day is an improvement. Every day you’re going to get better. Unfortunately for us, there’s pretty much only two nights left until your match. So we’re going to have to speed this shit up. But I promise you, win or lose, I will make sure that by the time Exodus comes around, you’ll be ring-ready.

Piero: Okay then I guess… I can accept… I AM A FAILURE! I AM A FAILURE! I AM A FAILURE AND I’M PROUD!

Stark: That’s the kind of self-deprecating enthusiasm that’s going to get you places! Maybe there is hope for you to be more than a failure in his mid-thirties! Mastering yourself may be half of the solution in normal circumstances, but for a tag team match, you still need another lesson - Know Your Ally. Do you know who Tarah Nova is?

Piero: Yeah I’ve watched Elite --

Stark: I said don’t name that place. I don’t want AIDS.

Piero: I’ve seen her compete “around the world”.

Stark: That’s more like it!

Piero: It’s intimidating having to team up with her…

Stark: I’m sure it is. There are huge expectations on you right now, you understand that right? The company that gave you a title shot, your legendary partner relying on you, and your entire faction pulling for you to win the gold for them. Is that something you can live up to?

Piero: The best I can do is try… I could always low-blow --

If the referee doesn’t see you, then yes. But I’m training you to win without the low-blow. Anyways, Tarah Nova has made her intentions very clear - she wants those belts. You fooling around is not going to help her do that, so don’t be an idiot out there. Your opponents are getting on Tarah’s nerves with the bullshit they’re throwing out there, so the last thing you need to do is mess with her head any further, do you understand?

Piero: Yes. I’ll be as focused as possible.

Stark: There ya go, you’re learning already. Now, for the final lesson, and definitely the most important one - Know Your Enemy. Even if you’re not fully in-tune with yourself, as long as you know your enemy, you might still be able to scrape by with the win. There have been many years in my career where I struggled from not being aligned with my inner morals, but even then, I never failed like you did, simply because I always made sure to study my opponents enough to where I could put up a good fight, and in the end, more often than not, I won. So, what can you tell me about Chase Vedder and Racer Smiles?


Stark: Piero?


Stark: Is there anything you can tell me about Chase or Racer?

Piero: … No…

Stark: But didn’t I ask you to study them extensively when you called me on Sunday and hired me to train you? You did none of that?

Piero: … No…

Stark: So then what the fuck have you been doing all week?


Stark: Oh boy. Well luckily for you, you’re paying me enough for me to do that work for you.

Piero: YES.

Stark: Shut up. It’s not good news. Chase Vedder called you a fat sack of blubber with no accomplishments, but since we got past lesson one, you should know that already. He also thinks you smell bad.

Piero: I don’t smell bad at all! I only use the highest quality of cologne!

Stark: Yeah well that ain’t won you a single match in your entire career, and it sure as hell isn’t going to help you beat Chase or Racer, is it?

Piero: … No…

Stark: Exactly. For a guy like Chase Vedder, you’re looking at someone with above-average talent with a lot to prove, but he’s also going to have a huge chip on his shoulder. He has a lot to prove, while still having to maintain his cooler-than-cool demeanor. If you can find a balance where you fuck with him enough to knock him off his game, you might just be able to create an opening for you or Tarah to take him down. Let his ego and pride be his downfall. He is SEVERELY underestimating you, Piero, and you need to take advantage of that.

Piero: All right. He won’t see me coming at all!

Stark: Good. Racer Smiles is another case though. This guy has an even bigger ego, and I fear that he might actually have the skills to back them up. He doesn’t care about his partner one bit - he thinks he’s going to carry his team alone. I do find him a little too overconfident considering Tarah Nova is in the match, but he already thinks of her as a non-factor so he’s preemptively setting himself up for failure. He demands respect when he’s done nothing to earn it. I’ve faced dozens of men like him Piero. All you need to do is let him play himself. He has no idea who he’s stepping into that ring with when he faces Tarah. Just don’t get in her way when she’s fighting him, and she’ll take care of it. You need to focus on having her back.

Piero: Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Stark: Listen, Piero. You’ve gotten these three lessons from me for your coin, but I’ll throw in a few extra pointers. Most of all, you need to be relaxed out there. I know that all of Ronin is counting on you to win, but ultimately, they’ll get over it. Don’t fail yourself. Go in with a clear head, don’t let the bright lights of the big stage trip you up, and above all… have fun. That’s what worked for me, and I think I’ve carved a pretty good career out of the 8 years I’ve been at it. So what if you’re a late starter, Piero? So what if you’ve a failure up to this point in your life? We’re going to turn that around. You’re going to be a failure today, Piero. You’re going to be a failure tomorrow. But on March 31st, at SSW Exodus… you’re going to be the Tag Team Champion. Now show me some confidence.

Piero: PIERO…. ICHIBAN!!!!

Stark: You’re god damn right, Piero Ichiban.

Piero: Still… I’m feeling pretty nervous. Any tips on getting over the anxiety?

Stark: Hm… I should have something in my “bonsai garden” for that. Hey waiter, check please?

Stark and Piero gather themselves and depart for Stark’s legally-ambiguous “bonsai garden”.
on March 28th 2018, 11:15 pmSaul Omen
The Song of Saul Omen: Chapter IV

[Darkness takes hold of the camera’s view to where suddenly a red light shines brightly, the red lines forming a triangle to shine throughout the room that it has been contained in, showing a number of cloaked figures that have surrounded the triangle. Silent disciples with ivory skull masks around their faces, watching and praising the triangle that sits before them, before the light transformed into the dark Stygian void. As shadows dance within the night, what could be seen as an illusions of tendrils from the shadows escape through what now has become almost a portal, as suddenly a man walks through the portal dressed in a midnight black suit. The darkness closes back to where the tendrils sink back into the triangle, a dark aura of his own surrounded the man before he walked down the steps, with the disciples scurrying away from him like mice. Smoke is shown to follow him with darkness being ousted by the light as we soon notice the familiar face of Saul Omen, taking a seat before the camera, as he lets out a bestial growl that hums as he cracks his neck.]

Saul Omen: I have been awakened from my slumber, resurrected by the divine grace of Death, to return to his terrestrial plane of existence known as Strong Style Wrestling. As I slept into the void of darkness and lost souls, I prepared myself for the ultimate conquest in the war of Life and Death. The strength that I had before, in the time when Strong Style Wrestling was thriving before the legality of the juvenile of this world cause the hiatus to return me to my slumber, it pales in comparison towards the power that has been absorbed into this mortal vessel. Now, the world will watch as a stronger vessel of Death emerges from the darkness, a man who has accept the divine graces of Death to walk into the world to where we shall be introduced to the new souls of the Earth, all making their mass exodus towards the safe haven of Strong Style Wrestling. What has awoken me might be the question that you have asked yourself and one that should not be found to be ashamed of asking. What awoken me from the slumber that endowed me with the gifts of the deity that I give my entirety towards was… hunger. The hunger for the souls that used to litter the battlefield of this wrestling ring, the thirst for blood that needs to be quenched by the beast that has been harbored inside of this mortal coil, and the desire to collect souls for in honor of the deity that has continued to allow life in this body of mine. This company of fighters and warriors that have gathered from across the world have merged here in Strong Style Wrestling with the sole purpose of serving as my tributes that the first person in this resurrection to be my tribute is none other than a mockery of a man. Captain Strong Style. A jester in the kingdom of puroresu stands to challenge the monster that strikes fear into the hearts of all man, the shadow that lingers at their doorstep, as I intend to feast upon the soul of this inadequate man on the stage of Exodus. This man shall be honored with this title of being known as a tribute for not only an acolyte of Death that has been brought to this realm, but for the deity himself to consume this tribute for himself. Captain Strong Style, this will be your curtain call before the show even begins. This will be the honorable death that a man of your stature pleads with the supernatural forces that decide your fate to give you. This will be a death that will be remembered throughout all of your generations and with that, I shall make the reintroduction of this vessel known as Saul Omen known. Strong Style Wrestling… your new god has risen once again.

[The static starts to flicker onto the camera to where you can see a darkness form around Saul Omen, a form that looked almost demonic starts to overtake him as a snarl of a beast is heard, only for the static to end with Saul Omen still seated there. He lets out a devious grin on his face, teeth glimmering into the light, as the darkness envelops around him to take him away from the camera’s sight.]
on March 28th 2018, 2:40 pmSon of Ra

You claim to have a spirit inside of you you claim is your father...

But I know that the spirit of mine lives within us all...

OOOOHHHH YYYYAAAAASSSSSS it is, by the flowing of the Nile. By the way the sands shift across the deserts of all Egypt I make this truthful claim, not as if he is some casper the ghost who considers us all to be friends like you say you have inside of you. But I can see what is inside of you dear sir, I see what lays deep in you. It is fear, fear that you should have been sent to the duat those many moons ago. That is why you mask it with possession, which is nine tenths of the law! And the law of this land we roam through speaks nothing of small childrens fears of ghosts! YOU HAVE NO GHOST IN YOU SIR! AND I WILL PURGE YOU FROM YOUR WARPED REALITY! OHH YASS I am, I will take the power of the Nile, and what it stands for and bring it down upon you like the ignited blaze of Ra himself. At the end of this battle, this long and hard road for you and your casper will end not the way you would like, but the way you must be satisfied with. Anubis guided your father, along with all of the other fallen souls of the genocide you survived to the duat, because like you live a lie...HE LIED TO YOU! And there will be no acceptance into the field of reeds, not with those like yourself who's hearts are heavier than a boulder, much less the feather. And Ma at knows that your heart is heavy, I know that your heart is heavy. The only thing heavier you possess is the golden relic you carry around your waist...


And I will be the one to rip it away your your possession, and add it to my own collection of foreign relics to my home land. And inside of my palace of enlightenment, inside of my case of all trophies it will be held Next to the shield of Alexander the Great, next to the helmet and chest guard of Ramses The Great. So shall the relic you have be added to my trophy case, you shall be added to the list of people who have fallen in battle against the great Atem Octavian Amun Ra!!! So you may witness the AWAKENING of the inner DEITY inside of my HUMONCULUS! Enjoy the show you are about to see dear sir, because afterwards you will never get to see it again! Just like you will never get to see the Heritage Championship ever again. Because once I get my hands on this relic it will never leave my possession. I shall take that from you, just like you shall have the dream you live taken from you as your father is revealed to not possess you, but wish you were never born good sir...for your DISHONOR!!!! I look forward into seeing you on the battlefield of Kadesh, so you may have the process started on you. Because sooner rather than later, I will make sure you are locked in a SARCOPHAGUS OF OBLIVION!!!!! For when the official lays his hand down for a third time during our battle, you will be left...


on March 27th 2018, 11:42 pmJaydayne Pendragon
⚔️The sound of a high speeding train is heard as the camera goes to a video in the past where Jaydayne Pendragon is half asleep seated in the packed vehicle.  As the bumpy ride goes on the video plays re-enactments of historic misdeeds both specific and general, people led into chambers as others look away, children bullied in full schoolyards, an uncomfortable young lady being quietly groped on in a train full of people, and people in board rooms looking at flowcharts of the profits they’ll make putting pipelines through reserves. Throughout, Pendragon’s voice can be heard.⚔️

The world often stands in awe of the past horrors they are told happened, wondering how it could have gotten that bad. We’d like to think we live in better times, that we’re better people. Oh that wouldn’t happen today, if it did we’d intervene, so on…so on. But most people like to keep their heads down, we prefer to have our lives lived in relative comfort not getting involved with other people’s concerns and for rewards of all kinds we’ll live in subjugation as long our chains are loose enough not to hurt, so long as our brothers and sisters are the ones being whipped instead of us. As much as the world has progressed and gotten better, we are still those people, we are beings who can revert to old habits of looking the other way, as we sell our souls, and allow our dignity to decay. That’s how the world gets that bad, that’s how you get taken along the ride to places we never imagine going.

⚔️Pendragon’s hand reaches out to grasp a wrist, revealing the teen groper, and the young woman from earlier in the train, now relieved of her troubles.⚔️

But all you have to do is stand up. Then you can change the trajectory of the world around you, you have at least that chance.

⚔️In present time, Pendragon and the teen now aged few years older are seen in a dojo paying respects, bowing their heads.⚔️

Then the people around you, even the worst of the worst, have a chance to better themselves, to repent and have a new lease on life to try going about living their life again the proper way. I was once given this second chance, as both a wrestler and a man, so I know I owe the world to not let it go to waste, I know I must represent the right values to pay homage to all that I have been given. Strong Style Wrestling, chief among my benefactors, allowed me to be a leader, gave this hafu samurai a full-blown license to be the head of Shoot Nation.

⚔️Pendragon is left alone as he raises his head and stares at the camera.⚔️

Now Strong Style Wrestling is the one with a second chance. The path here was an arduous one, we lost many, but gained others, our wills have been ironed and nobody here is playing any games with all that has been put at stake. I’m sure my adversaries at Exodus have their own stories, two people who were part of a mass exodus of their own when the chains got too tight, but let there be no mistaking my path to be any less filled with sacrifice. I reiterate this on the grand reopening, I am a sponsored wrestler of the J-Dynasty, and my sponsors knew what it meant for me to wrestle here, and they, undeterred, gave up their past for my future. A future when I can provide for my fiancée’s family needs, and use my talents to build a home for many men and women who come to the East to master this craft. So now in Strong Style Wrestling’s return, I have even more people who count on me than the last time, my duty to fight with honour and perseverance has been amplified tenfold! I will make sure to bring that way of living into the fabric Strong Style Wrestling. Because just like people… even more so as a collection of people, Strong Style Wrestling must too live up to it’s responsibilities to those that have sacrificed for it and given it this shot at redemption!

And while I say that I am sure my adversaries have their stories, I cannot vouch for their commitment towards the culture of strong style, be it neither in spirit nor in wrestling. Aria Jaxon and CM Nas are both foreign megastars sorted into the Phantom Troupe, a vile group rivaled only in illness by Tres Comas. If not for Shoot Nation, those idle Ronin fools who believe they can be neutral on a moving train would allow The Phantom Troupe and Tres Comas to run the good name of this company into the mud. Be they scum or be they ignorant, Nas and Aria seal their fate by association, for my war against the Phantom Troupe is not over! The red strife wages on.

Some will say, it’s two on one, you shouldn’t bother fighting. That’s the Answers World Champion and Aria Jaxon, it’s a loss cause trying to face those two working together! Such people who can say that have no idea what this red strife I wage entails, they didn’t truly absorb my earlier worlds because I told you all that you have to stand up when the alternative is to be led into a darkness that none have ever imagined! If I’m to pack my bags and give up on this match, then it’s already doomsday, the most coveted prize shall fall into the grasps of the unworthy. Unworthy, not because they aren’t big names or good wrestlers, far from it. Unworthy, because they don’t care about people, they drag foreign gold into our lands for attention when the only championships we need recognize are our own, and they accept the brand of the Phantom Troupe for whatever power or notoriety they misguidedly believe it gives them. I don’t believe such egos can work together when so much is on the line, but I’m ready for anything. I won’t sheath my blade in front of the incoming army hoping they treat me as a civilian when I know after me that they’ll brutalize everyone and everything I care about later if they get on top of this company. I sharpen my blade, now as ever before, so I cut them down before their wicked ways take root.

⚔️ Calling back to the past as a signature, Pendragon swipes his hand slowly over the red streak in his hair before abruptly making a diagonal cutting motion at the end and the screen cuts in half, and the view goes to black.⚔️
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