Post by The Cosplay Playboy on Apr 26, 2015 9:13:57 GMT -6
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Yet again, without really being aware as to how I got here, I was once again at the same lobby from before, blue furniture everywhere – sofa, glass coffee table, carpet, and cabinet; all of it practically made out of velvet, something my eyes hadn’t quite noticed last time due to the awe of just being drawn into whatever this place was. Just like before, I made my way past the past reception table and to the same door that beckoned me in last time…and once again, I grasped the door knob firmly, turned it and found myself entering the room, closing it shut behind me as I found myself in his office, once again. His world, as he called it. There was a long table placed in the center, with seats all around it; kind of like the ones in corporate meetings. From top to bottom, the place was a hue of velvet blue, including the carpet and the furniture. As I scanned them, I notice that the wall behind them was no wall - it looked like the metal grates you'd see in an old- fashioned lift. Besides that, whatever looked like a wall past those grates continued to descend, as if we were inside of an elevator and that’s when my eyes found themselves staring at the man across the table, a deck of cards stacked up to his side, some of those cards already lying face down with one of them being face-up in full.
The Hanged Man.
Just like the last time he was here, Shinji Oshima seemed intent on continuing their conversation from where it was left off.
“Welcome back, Mr. Strike. It took you a few days longer than expected to come back here.”
I did note the hint of sarcasm in his voice. No matter. I just pulled my own seat so that I could observe from a closer range exactly what the hell he was up to…and possibly grab him by that stupid little tie of his and demand answers if he decided to keep getting smart with me.
“Well, it took a while, but Ophelia was kind enough to explain the semantics on how exactly to get here…”
Oshima smiled cryptically. “Ah yes, the kaiju…even with a fraction of her Mark’s power, finding a way to this place isn’t the easiest. Granted, I designed it that way,” he explained. “This room, Mr. Strike, is a place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. Here in this room, various aspects of a man’s soul are awakened. No doubt that the kaiju activated the Key to this place within you sometime during your adventure.”
“Key…?” I asked. What Key was this guy even speaking of? What exactly did Ophelia a.k.a. GOTHRA do to him? “All I know is that this is something I can only get to when I’m deep asleep and that the moment I wake up, this all goes away and I barely remember a thing while conscious.”
“Well, I can’t have you particularly messing with Fate itself by spewing everything that you see and hear inside this confine,” Oshima replied, cryptic and in the most prick like manner as ever. “You’ll more than likely be able to recall minor details and decisions you make here to influence your current path and where it may lead you…”
“So, this is basically my conscience recalling whatever goes on here and thus, me acting on it in the outside world based on both reason and intuition.”
“You can describe it like that,” Oshima said, placing his right hand on the deck of cards and pulling one from the top of it, bringing it near him before flipping it over. “Ah, there’s a familiar card.”
I watch as Oshima doesn’t waste any time placing the card down on the table, giving me a very clear look at it as he places it next to the Hanged Man.
The Magician.
And that alone stirs all sorts of feelings deep inside of me.
“Did she ever give you a definitive answer, Chris?” Oshima asked. Goddamnit, he knew. Somehow, he knew. Then again, right, Sage of the Six Paths or something along those lines. It probably comes with the territory for the son of a bitch. “…I’m going to take the pensive expression and the silence as a no, then.”
“You probably know all about it,” I sneered.
“I do, actually,” Oshima replied, a smile appearing on his face…the fucking prick. “But it is so much nicer to see people admit to it either verbally or nonverbally.”
I rolled my eyes accordingly. I almost flipped him off in the process. No, you really have no idea how annoying this is unless it’s being done to you. It almost makes me feel sorry for anybody in (R)Evolution Wrestling putting up with him. Almost.
“Well, she’s still somebody important to you. Important to the decisions you make in the future. Perhaps the person who either holds on to you while you’re on the edge or who causes you to fully dive off of it,” Oshima said. “Not that you haven’t already done a stellar job at starting to do that after the punishment you put poor Abby Park through. No word from her from at all since the incident. Nobody is particularly happy with you since it either.”
“Fuck them,” I replied, just letting it out without even hesitating. Normally, this was the kind of question I’d answer after giving it thought, keeping the volatile shit to myself and being diplomatic. Polite, even.
It once was all about giving the guarded answer, all for the sake of perhaps using the voices and the roars as a jolt of adrenaline at key moments during a match, using their energy just as they’ve used mine to fuel their own attempts at being heard. Hell, I’ve been guarded accordingly ever since I stepped back into the limelight under the WEAPON guise. No…further than that, even. It has been ever since the Mark was engraved unto me. I’m like anyone else would be if put in my situation, I was afraid to lose control, afraid to go berserk and in so many ways, denying my own nature.
See kids, I’m an impulsive human being. Impatient, even. There’s a reason why I damn near tried to jump a railing to go try and save Michael Thunder once at an independent show from a 3-on-1 beatdown…damn near succeeded too. It’s what led me into wrestling in the first place. It’s why I’ve got a temper damn near consumes anything in its path like wildfire once it’s set off. I am that person who thinks with their heart first and lets the brain figure the path around it once I’ve taken those first few steps. It’s what led me to professional wrestling. It’s what led me to this particular point in my life.
Although I will say one thing about restricting myself to use my brain first and my emotions second…it’s given me a nice perspective on the current landscape. It’s made me realize a few things about myself and about the people around me.
…And it’s right at that moment where Oshima brings out another card into the fray:
The Devil.
My eyes widened. The last two times he’s brought out these cards, they’ve had their significance. Sally Talfourd was obviously “The Magician” and as for “The Hanged Man,” well...that’s a different story for a different time. Although let’s say him and I have gotten to know each other REALLY well since a particular encounter in Disneyland in Japan.
“...And who is that supposed to represent, Oshima?”
Shinji Oshima smiled, his gaze focused on me and me alone, even as he began to shuffle the cards before him.
“Why Chris, that would be the man you’re soon to be on a collision course with…”
-------------------------------------------
”Till the monster stirred, that demon, that fiend
Grendel who haunted the moors, the wild
Marshes, and made his home in a hell.
Not hell but hell on earth. He was spawned in that slime
Of Cain, murderous creatures banished
By God, punished forever for the crime
Of Abel's death.”
With the snap of a finger, a spotlight appears and it illuminates a chair and the man sitting in it, holding the EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight title across his right shoulder, the gold standing out even more given the full two piece white suit that the now two-time EXODUS Pro World champion is wearing with the shoes to match it.
“An embodiment of an epic poem in the flesh is what I have in front of me. A fitting test for a man of my caliber. A fitting test for thereal World's champion after I took back what was rightfully mine from Abigail Park's hands and took it back by force at Repetition of Hatred. Very few of you were happy about that or so I heard. Something about wanting to see less of me with this belt…”
Strike simply grinned from ear to ear, grabbing on to the title and raising it in the air, letting the X in the center shine on through into the camera shot, keeping the EXODUS Pro World championship in view so that the whole world could see exactly who it was in possession of it.
“Well, take a good look...and get used to it. For I am your World champion and plan on being for a very long time. A World champion that takes on any task thrown in his path, a World champion that will step into this industry’s landscape at any given chance and do nothing but conquer those challenges, a World champion that stands at the top of the mountain and looks down judgingly as others attempt to make the climb to stand in my pantheon. A place where I've made the climb not once but twice now...a place I do not plan on leaving anytime soon.
And I can see you from here just fine, GRENDEL. You, Aries Reed, Shozo Arino and Devan Whitmore. The quartet of EXODUS Pro that sparked a REVOLUTION within (R)Evolution and took it all the way up to the main roster. I have observed. In a way, I can't fault any of you for doing what you're doing right now. But like anybody else, I have an opinion on the matter...and it just so happens that it holds more weight than a lot of other people's around this entire company.”
The grin remaining on the World champion's face wasn't as wide as it was earlier on, but it remained on Chris Strike's face as he brought the EXODUS Pro World title back around his right shoulder. He crosses his legs and takes a more relaxed stance before addressing the camera a few feet away once more.
“GRENDEL, there isn't any doubt in my mind that a man with your raw talent and the blessings of your genetics has plenty as it is to have a niche in this business, a staying power on just the gifts bestowed upon you alone. Must be nice to know you don't have to work too hard to find work...
And yet, even with that knowledge, you push yourself...or rather, you try to push this entire system in front of you. You and the REVOLUTION that you proudly represent say that you push forward, trying to bring forth change. Me? I'm not going to sit here and say that I don't understand why you're doing this but I will say something you should probably take to heart...
It's the same old song and dance.”
With the snap of a finger, a spotlight slowly began to brighten around a jukebox just a few feet to Strike's left. With another snap, it began to play Aerosmith's "Same Old Song and Dance" at a low volume. Background noise, if you will, to further illustrate the champion's point.
“You are not a special little snowflake. You and your REVOLUTION are not doing something completely unprecedented and unseen before in the wrestling business. In fact, Grendy-boy...you're more like than the superiors you have come to despise than you could possibly imagine.
Because at one point in his life, Jonathan Collins was ready to burn the world at large and change the landscape in Hal Snyder's vision. Because at one point in his life, Darrin Stearns was ready to fight to the literal death inside that squared circle if it meant making a mark on this industry. Because at one point in her life, Angela Jameson was seen as nothing more than some plucky little bitch who couldn't hang until she beat people within an inch of their lives to change the perception. Because at one point, DEMON Suzuki was just Makoto Suzuki...a young lion who lost 227 matches until he crippled a legend and brought all of the other Young Lions he knew under his own DEMONGUN stable to run roughshod across Japan for years. Because at one point, BEOWULF was just some bar room brawler...known as GRENDEL.
Your mentors that you have accused of negligence, nepotism and every other remark under the sun...once, they were very similar to you. Their words, opponents and journeys may have differed in aspects but all of them shared the same goal...they all wanted to change this industry. They all wanted to help shape its future. They would all dismantle anybody who stood between them and their goal.
They helped bring revolution to professional wrestling long before your REVOLUTION. Sure, it's not perfect - nothing is - but they were some of the folk who moved us forward and helped create EXODUS Pro and (R)Evolution Wrestling in the process. They gave you the platform to speak whatever it is you want to speak.
You don't have to like them, don't get me wrong. Lord knows I loathe half of these fuckers. Hell, you don't even have to respect them...which we know you clearly don't. But by now, GRENDEL...have you started to realize just how asinine is your whole train of thought? Or are you so infatuated by your own rhetoric that you can't see the reality in front of you?”
Another snap of his fingers ensues and the World champion watches in amusement as the song shifts over from the Aerosmith tune to something that definitely hits a little harder from the get-go: "Slither" by Velvet Revolver.
“Very well. Allow me to teach you a valuable lesson, you deplorable, fucked up creation of someone else's folly. First and foremost, that little stunt with the World Tag Team titles...yeah, it got a few heads talking, it caused something to get stirred in the locker room and made you a person of interest in EXODUS Pro for two weeks...
That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. The wrestling world isn't rising in a rage and deciding to destroy championship belts because they're not getting it that way. See, it's like I've already told you, kid...revolution is a daily concept in this sport. It grows and changes daily for the better...all on the backs of the people who shut up and put the work in instead of blowing smoke up their ass. But I know you're too busy to see that and I'm going to be accused of being some liar holding you all back from what you deserve, so I'm going to be more blunt now.
In fact, the only reason you are even getting the opportunity to step up to somebody in my level is because of you destroying a championship. It's not your skill, because lord knows what you have isn't enough for this level. It's not your accolades, because being carried by Aries Reed to just about every single victory you have in the main roster isn't an option for you to explore tonight. It's not even the seething hatred you carry in that little heart of yours, because we all actually know how much of a sensitive little heart you have underneath all the growling and loud yelling you tend to do.
To me, GRENDEL? You are nothing more than an overgrown sacrificial lamb. Someone who shouts the message so loud that everyone focuses on the messenger rather than the message itself. And it will be a pleasure taking your overgrown, deformed body and demolishing it from limb to limb.
Trust me, this beating isn't about something like respect, GRENDEL. I don't need the likes of you to respect me. All I need is to stomp you down and make you AND your REVOLUTION learn your place in this world. And that is at the foot of my mountain, staring up longingly and realizing that you are nowhere near good enough to climb it. Not in the way that you are now. Not unless you're willing to actually live by your motto and give out the performance of a lifetime when you meet the World champion.”
Another snap of his fingers ensues and the World champion uncrosses his legs and stands up while the song shifts over from Velvet Revolver to Arch Enemy's "You Will Know My Name."
“This time around, it isn't Fiona Collins or Savannah Taylor or various tag teams that you face. This time, you meet the EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight champion and the best wrestler on the damned planet right now. An awakened champion, a man that sees you for everything that you are and everything that you stand for...and doesn't give a shit about any of it.”
A final snap of his fingers brought the lights up around the entire surroundings, the cameraman taking a step back at the incandescent brightness in the room now as we find ourselves in some sort of barn set-up of sorts...and most noticeably, watching as something twists and turns near the barn door, their arm clearly seen trapped on the door and as the cameraman sees this, he walks to his side and notices an overly realistic looking GRENDEL there with a concerned expression on his face. As the cameraman closes in on the shot, he notices that it seems to be a wax doll given the way it's constructed but he has no time to focus further as the shot widens...and catches Chris Strike briskly making his way towards the barn door...
“Come Monday night, the question won't be Evolve or Die, GRENDEL...”
Strike drops the EXODUS Pro World title and slides it down a few feet away from him before straightening his suit and grabbing on to the barn door. He brings it open just enough...before slamming the door right onto the trapped arm of the GRENDEL figure, a loud grunt resembling that of the REVOLUTION's big man escaping it.
A grin grows on the World champion's face it as he does it again, getting the same reaction. And again. And again. And again. The more he slams the door against GRENDEL's arm, the louder the grunts and screams grow from the wax figure until finally, one last slam shuts the barn door entirely as the exposed and trapped arm is made to be completely taken off the wax body it belonged to.
Gradually, Chris Strike turns around to face the camera once again.
“...because there will be nothing but Death waiting for you when you step to a God...
And there isn't a damned thing that you can do about it.”
-------------------------------------------
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“An unexpected visit at this time, Ophelia...”
“I am not here for pleasantries, Shinji. You know why I am here.”
“Actually, I don't know for sure. Since you have this whole really interesting thing about defying Fates and existing outside of a zone where I cannot quite see everything about you...”
“Well, take a guess.”
Oshima smiled, offering the young woman a chance to sit down. She glanced at the seat for a moment and the set of cards on the table before resigning herself to take a seat.
“You are here in regards to our other Guest that you brought here as a means of him getting some answers.”
“Has he told you anything about Gemini?”
“No. He doesn't really have to, given I know what happened...”
“Dammit Shinji, don't give me the omnipotent and omnipresent nonsense right now. This is actually important. Something...”
“...Happened when he got that Mark put into him. Yes, yes, you act as if I don't know how actually important it really is, Aquarius.”
The woman across the table who was the bearer of the Mark of Aquarius glanced down at her hand, then back across the table.
“I'm worried. He may have gotten control over the wild nature of the Mark of Sagittarius that sent him berserk but I'm starting to realize that one person alone can't bear all Twelve like he plans on doing.”
“Well, he has no choice on the matter...”
“What do you mean?”
“Because he is the only person that can do it now...”
Ophelia blinked.
“What do you mean? Twelve Marks. Twelve families. Ever since the existence of these things, we have been told any of us can take on that weight if needed to bring them together and...”
“Change the world as you know it. Yes, yes, I'm familiar with the tale. Hell, I've seen how it ends, Ophelia. It's not going to be pretty, by the way. Because there is still one particular turn this story hasn't taken just yet...”
“...what twist...?”
Shinji Oshima smiled again at the woman known as GOTHRA.
“Sly Red.”
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Yet again, without really being aware as to how I got here, I was once again at the same lobby from before, blue furniture everywhere – sofa, glass coffee table, carpet, and cabinet; all of it practically made out of velvet, something my eyes hadn’t quite noticed last time due to the awe of just being drawn into whatever this place was. Just like before, I made my way past the past reception table and to the same door that beckoned me in last time…and once again, I grasped the door knob firmly, turned it and found myself entering the room, closing it shut behind me as I found myself in his office, once again. His world, as he called it. There was a long table placed in the center, with seats all around it; kind of like the ones in corporate meetings. From top to bottom, the place was a hue of velvet blue, including the carpet and the furniture. As I scanned them, I notice that the wall behind them was no wall - it looked like the metal grates you'd see in an old- fashioned lift. Besides that, whatever looked like a wall past those grates continued to descend, as if we were inside of an elevator and that’s when my eyes found themselves staring at the man across the table, a deck of cards stacked up to his side, some of those cards already lying face down with one of them being face-up in full.
The Hanged Man.
Just like the last time he was here, Shinji Oshima seemed intent on continuing their conversation from where it was left off.
“Welcome back, Mr. Strike. It took you a few days longer than expected to come back here.”
I did note the hint of sarcasm in his voice. No matter. I just pulled my own seat so that I could observe from a closer range exactly what the hell he was up to…and possibly grab him by that stupid little tie of his and demand answers if he decided to keep getting smart with me.
“Well, it took a while, but Ophelia was kind enough to explain the semantics on how exactly to get here…”
Oshima smiled cryptically. “Ah yes, the kaiju…even with a fraction of her Mark’s power, finding a way to this place isn’t the easiest. Granted, I designed it that way,” he explained. “This room, Mr. Strike, is a place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. Here in this room, various aspects of a man’s soul are awakened. No doubt that the kaiju activated the Key to this place within you sometime during your adventure.”
“Key…?” I asked. What Key was this guy even speaking of? What exactly did Ophelia a.k.a. GOTHRA do to him? “All I know is that this is something I can only get to when I’m deep asleep and that the moment I wake up, this all goes away and I barely remember a thing while conscious.”
“Well, I can’t have you particularly messing with Fate itself by spewing everything that you see and hear inside this confine,” Oshima replied, cryptic and in the most prick like manner as ever. “You’ll more than likely be able to recall minor details and decisions you make here to influence your current path and where it may lead you…”
“So, this is basically my conscience recalling whatever goes on here and thus, me acting on it in the outside world based on both reason and intuition.”
“You can describe it like that,” Oshima said, placing his right hand on the deck of cards and pulling one from the top of it, bringing it near him before flipping it over. “Ah, there’s a familiar card.”
I watch as Oshima doesn’t waste any time placing the card down on the table, giving me a very clear look at it as he places it next to the Hanged Man.
The Magician.
And that alone stirs all sorts of feelings deep inside of me.
“Did she ever give you a definitive answer, Chris?” Oshima asked. Goddamnit, he knew. Somehow, he knew. Then again, right, Sage of the Six Paths or something along those lines. It probably comes with the territory for the son of a bitch. “…I’m going to take the pensive expression and the silence as a no, then.”
“You probably know all about it,” I sneered.
“I do, actually,” Oshima replied, a smile appearing on his face…the fucking prick. “But it is so much nicer to see people admit to it either verbally or nonverbally.”
I rolled my eyes accordingly. I almost flipped him off in the process. No, you really have no idea how annoying this is unless it’s being done to you. It almost makes me feel sorry for anybody in (R)Evolution Wrestling putting up with him. Almost.
“Well, she’s still somebody important to you. Important to the decisions you make in the future. Perhaps the person who either holds on to you while you’re on the edge or who causes you to fully dive off of it,” Oshima said. “Not that you haven’t already done a stellar job at starting to do that after the punishment you put poor Abby Park through. No word from her from at all since the incident. Nobody is particularly happy with you since it either.”
“Fuck them,” I replied, just letting it out without even hesitating. Normally, this was the kind of question I’d answer after giving it thought, keeping the volatile shit to myself and being diplomatic. Polite, even.
It once was all about giving the guarded answer, all for the sake of perhaps using the voices and the roars as a jolt of adrenaline at key moments during a match, using their energy just as they’ve used mine to fuel their own attempts at being heard. Hell, I’ve been guarded accordingly ever since I stepped back into the limelight under the WEAPON guise. No…further than that, even. It has been ever since the Mark was engraved unto me. I’m like anyone else would be if put in my situation, I was afraid to lose control, afraid to go berserk and in so many ways, denying my own nature.
See kids, I’m an impulsive human being. Impatient, even. There’s a reason why I damn near tried to jump a railing to go try and save Michael Thunder once at an independent show from a 3-on-1 beatdown…damn near succeeded too. It’s what led me into wrestling in the first place. It’s why I’ve got a temper damn near consumes anything in its path like wildfire once it’s set off. I am that person who thinks with their heart first and lets the brain figure the path around it once I’ve taken those first few steps. It’s what led me to professional wrestling. It’s what led me to this particular point in my life.
Although I will say one thing about restricting myself to use my brain first and my emotions second…it’s given me a nice perspective on the current landscape. It’s made me realize a few things about myself and about the people around me.
…And it’s right at that moment where Oshima brings out another card into the fray:
The Devil.
My eyes widened. The last two times he’s brought out these cards, they’ve had their significance. Sally Talfourd was obviously “The Magician” and as for “The Hanged Man,” well...that’s a different story for a different time. Although let’s say him and I have gotten to know each other REALLY well since a particular encounter in Disneyland in Japan.
“...And who is that supposed to represent, Oshima?”
Shinji Oshima smiled, his gaze focused on me and me alone, even as he began to shuffle the cards before him.
“Why Chris, that would be the man you’re soon to be on a collision course with…”
-------------------------------------------
”Till the monster stirred, that demon, that fiend
Grendel who haunted the moors, the wild
Marshes, and made his home in a hell.
Not hell but hell on earth. He was spawned in that slime
Of Cain, murderous creatures banished
By God, punished forever for the crime
Of Abel's death.”
With the snap of a finger, a spotlight appears and it illuminates a chair and the man sitting in it, holding the EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight title across his right shoulder, the gold standing out even more given the full two piece white suit that the now two-time EXODUS Pro World champion is wearing with the shoes to match it.
“An embodiment of an epic poem in the flesh is what I have in front of me. A fitting test for a man of my caliber. A fitting test for thereal World's champion after I took back what was rightfully mine from Abigail Park's hands and took it back by force at Repetition of Hatred. Very few of you were happy about that or so I heard. Something about wanting to see less of me with this belt…”
Strike simply grinned from ear to ear, grabbing on to the title and raising it in the air, letting the X in the center shine on through into the camera shot, keeping the EXODUS Pro World championship in view so that the whole world could see exactly who it was in possession of it.
“Well, take a good look...and get used to it. For I am your World champion and plan on being for a very long time. A World champion that takes on any task thrown in his path, a World champion that will step into this industry’s landscape at any given chance and do nothing but conquer those challenges, a World champion that stands at the top of the mountain and looks down judgingly as others attempt to make the climb to stand in my pantheon. A place where I've made the climb not once but twice now...a place I do not plan on leaving anytime soon.
And I can see you from here just fine, GRENDEL. You, Aries Reed, Shozo Arino and Devan Whitmore. The quartet of EXODUS Pro that sparked a REVOLUTION within (R)Evolution and took it all the way up to the main roster. I have observed. In a way, I can't fault any of you for doing what you're doing right now. But like anybody else, I have an opinion on the matter...and it just so happens that it holds more weight than a lot of other people's around this entire company.”
The grin remaining on the World champion's face wasn't as wide as it was earlier on, but it remained on Chris Strike's face as he brought the EXODUS Pro World title back around his right shoulder. He crosses his legs and takes a more relaxed stance before addressing the camera a few feet away once more.
“GRENDEL, there isn't any doubt in my mind that a man with your raw talent and the blessings of your genetics has plenty as it is to have a niche in this business, a staying power on just the gifts bestowed upon you alone. Must be nice to know you don't have to work too hard to find work...
And yet, even with that knowledge, you push yourself...or rather, you try to push this entire system in front of you. You and the REVOLUTION that you proudly represent say that you push forward, trying to bring forth change. Me? I'm not going to sit here and say that I don't understand why you're doing this but I will say something you should probably take to heart...
It's the same old song and dance.”
With the snap of a finger, a spotlight slowly began to brighten around a jukebox just a few feet to Strike's left. With another snap, it began to play Aerosmith's "Same Old Song and Dance" at a low volume. Background noise, if you will, to further illustrate the champion's point.
“You are not a special little snowflake. You and your REVOLUTION are not doing something completely unprecedented and unseen before in the wrestling business. In fact, Grendy-boy...you're more like than the superiors you have come to despise than you could possibly imagine.
Because at one point in his life, Jonathan Collins was ready to burn the world at large and change the landscape in Hal Snyder's vision. Because at one point in his life, Darrin Stearns was ready to fight to the literal death inside that squared circle if it meant making a mark on this industry. Because at one point in her life, Angela Jameson was seen as nothing more than some plucky little bitch who couldn't hang until she beat people within an inch of their lives to change the perception. Because at one point, DEMON Suzuki was just Makoto Suzuki...a young lion who lost 227 matches until he crippled a legend and brought all of the other Young Lions he knew under his own DEMONGUN stable to run roughshod across Japan for years. Because at one point, BEOWULF was just some bar room brawler...known as GRENDEL.
Your mentors that you have accused of negligence, nepotism and every other remark under the sun...once, they were very similar to you. Their words, opponents and journeys may have differed in aspects but all of them shared the same goal...they all wanted to change this industry. They all wanted to help shape its future. They would all dismantle anybody who stood between them and their goal.
They helped bring revolution to professional wrestling long before your REVOLUTION. Sure, it's not perfect - nothing is - but they were some of the folk who moved us forward and helped create EXODUS Pro and (R)Evolution Wrestling in the process. They gave you the platform to speak whatever it is you want to speak.
You don't have to like them, don't get me wrong. Lord knows I loathe half of these fuckers. Hell, you don't even have to respect them...which we know you clearly don't. But by now, GRENDEL...have you started to realize just how asinine is your whole train of thought? Or are you so infatuated by your own rhetoric that you can't see the reality in front of you?”
Another snap of his fingers ensues and the World champion watches in amusement as the song shifts over from the Aerosmith tune to something that definitely hits a little harder from the get-go: "Slither" by Velvet Revolver.
“Very well. Allow me to teach you a valuable lesson, you deplorable, fucked up creation of someone else's folly. First and foremost, that little stunt with the World Tag Team titles...yeah, it got a few heads talking, it caused something to get stirred in the locker room and made you a person of interest in EXODUS Pro for two weeks...
That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. The wrestling world isn't rising in a rage and deciding to destroy championship belts because they're not getting it that way. See, it's like I've already told you, kid...revolution is a daily concept in this sport. It grows and changes daily for the better...all on the backs of the people who shut up and put the work in instead of blowing smoke up their ass. But I know you're too busy to see that and I'm going to be accused of being some liar holding you all back from what you deserve, so I'm going to be more blunt now.
In fact, the only reason you are even getting the opportunity to step up to somebody in my level is because of you destroying a championship. It's not your skill, because lord knows what you have isn't enough for this level. It's not your accolades, because being carried by Aries Reed to just about every single victory you have in the main roster isn't an option for you to explore tonight. It's not even the seething hatred you carry in that little heart of yours, because we all actually know how much of a sensitive little heart you have underneath all the growling and loud yelling you tend to do.
To me, GRENDEL? You are nothing more than an overgrown sacrificial lamb. Someone who shouts the message so loud that everyone focuses on the messenger rather than the message itself. And it will be a pleasure taking your overgrown, deformed body and demolishing it from limb to limb.
Trust me, this beating isn't about something like respect, GRENDEL. I don't need the likes of you to respect me. All I need is to stomp you down and make you AND your REVOLUTION learn your place in this world. And that is at the foot of my mountain, staring up longingly and realizing that you are nowhere near good enough to climb it. Not in the way that you are now. Not unless you're willing to actually live by your motto and give out the performance of a lifetime when you meet the World champion.”
Another snap of his fingers ensues and the World champion uncrosses his legs and stands up while the song shifts over from Velvet Revolver to Arch Enemy's "You Will Know My Name."
“This time around, it isn't Fiona Collins or Savannah Taylor or various tag teams that you face. This time, you meet the EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight champion and the best wrestler on the damned planet right now. An awakened champion, a man that sees you for everything that you are and everything that you stand for...and doesn't give a shit about any of it.”
A final snap of his fingers brought the lights up around the entire surroundings, the cameraman taking a step back at the incandescent brightness in the room now as we find ourselves in some sort of barn set-up of sorts...and most noticeably, watching as something twists and turns near the barn door, their arm clearly seen trapped on the door and as the cameraman sees this, he walks to his side and notices an overly realistic looking GRENDEL there with a concerned expression on his face. As the cameraman closes in on the shot, he notices that it seems to be a wax doll given the way it's constructed but he has no time to focus further as the shot widens...and catches Chris Strike briskly making his way towards the barn door...
“Come Monday night, the question won't be Evolve or Die, GRENDEL...”
Strike drops the EXODUS Pro World title and slides it down a few feet away from him before straightening his suit and grabbing on to the barn door. He brings it open just enough...before slamming the door right onto the trapped arm of the GRENDEL figure, a loud grunt resembling that of the REVOLUTION's big man escaping it.
A grin grows on the World champion's face it as he does it again, getting the same reaction. And again. And again. And again. The more he slams the door against GRENDEL's arm, the louder the grunts and screams grow from the wax figure until finally, one last slam shuts the barn door entirely as the exposed and trapped arm is made to be completely taken off the wax body it belonged to.
Gradually, Chris Strike turns around to face the camera once again.
“...because there will be nothing but Death waiting for you when you step to a God...
And there isn't a damned thing that you can do about it.”
-------------------------------------------
? ? ? ? ?
? ? ? ? ?
“An unexpected visit at this time, Ophelia...”
“I am not here for pleasantries, Shinji. You know why I am here.”
“Actually, I don't know for sure. Since you have this whole really interesting thing about defying Fates and existing outside of a zone where I cannot quite see everything about you...”
“Well, take a guess.”
Oshima smiled, offering the young woman a chance to sit down. She glanced at the seat for a moment and the set of cards on the table before resigning herself to take a seat.
“You are here in regards to our other Guest that you brought here as a means of him getting some answers.”
“Has he told you anything about Gemini?”
“No. He doesn't really have to, given I know what happened...”
“Dammit Shinji, don't give me the omnipotent and omnipresent nonsense right now. This is actually important. Something...”
“...Happened when he got that Mark put into him. Yes, yes, you act as if I don't know how actually important it really is, Aquarius.”
The woman across the table who was the bearer of the Mark of Aquarius glanced down at her hand, then back across the table.
“I'm worried. He may have gotten control over the wild nature of the Mark of Sagittarius that sent him berserk but I'm starting to realize that one person alone can't bear all Twelve like he plans on doing.”
“Well, he has no choice on the matter...”
“What do you mean?”
“Because he is the only person that can do it now...”
Ophelia blinked.
“What do you mean? Twelve Marks. Twelve families. Ever since the existence of these things, we have been told any of us can take on that weight if needed to bring them together and...”
“Change the world as you know it. Yes, yes, I'm familiar with the tale. Hell, I've seen how it ends, Ophelia. It's not going to be pretty, by the way. Because there is still one particular turn this story hasn't taken just yet...”
“...what twist...?”
Shinji Oshima smiled again at the woman known as GOTHRA.
“Sly Red.”
