AMA Brian Zewbowski vs. Max Maverick - Under Pressure

[Kross Rhodes]

Ranked Exhibition
Singles Match
Brian Zewbowski vs. "The Ace" Max Maverick

VS.

#ZewbowskiVsMaverick

Deadlines
❂ Remember that role-plays are to be received no later than 11:59 PM EST on Sunday, Apr. 25th, 2021.

 

[Bobby Barrows]

"Wise men have interpreted the dreams, and the gods have laughed."
- H.P. Lovecraft

Part I
Sacrifices of Righteousness

Sleepy Oak Sanitarium, Sleepy Oak, Minnesota, June 20th, 2045

*Our scene opens in a sanitized hallway, filled with screams and shouting. It's the Sleepy Oak Sanitarium, a notorious home for the mentally ill built in the year 1899. Its Neo-Gothic architectural design leans much into Sleepy Oak's "Old-Town" look. From behind the shoulder we watch as a person walks alone towards a door at the end of the hall on the left-hand side. Upon further inspection, this person is a shortish man with light hair and fair skin. He dons a catholic priest's attire and holds a bible in hand. Upon arrival at the door, he knocks twice, slowly opening the door. It is the low-security sector of the mental hospital, with visitors able to come and go as they wish. Inside the room are some scribblings on the wall, notes made by the occupant. Many of them indescribably illegible. A few however are newspaper clippings from years past speaking of strange activities within the city of Sleepy Oak and the surrounding area. A man lies in bed, an IV bag attached to him and medical equipment surrounding him. He turns his head and looks at the priest with a blank stare and an odd smile.*
​

???: A new visitor... come, what is your business?

*The priest closes the door behind him and gives a soft smile, walking over to a nearby chair and shaking the man's hand.*​

Priest: Hello, Brian Zewbowski. I'm Father Patrick Remus, your second wife and daughter have told me much about you. If it's alright, perhaps we could talk and get to know each other more.

Brian: Well, it's certainly nice to see a new face around here. Sarah and Celestia have kept me company enough, but I lie here hoping that death takes me soon enough.

Father Remus: Well, my son, I see you are prepared to depart into the arms of the Lord?

*Brian merely laughs and shakes his head indignantly, raising his hand in a dismissive fashion.*​

Brian: Save the priestly talk, Father. There are no arms to embrace me in the afterlife if there is one.

Father Remus: Well I wouldn't be so doubtful of that, Brian. After all, God embraces all who call upon him for forgiveness and blessing. However, we can leave that at the door. I'd rather just talk about each other.

Brian: ... Thank you, Father. Tell me, do you fish?

Father Remus: Of course, I always head out to the Cottonwood River whenever I can to catch some carp and catfish. I didn't know you fished.

Brian: Well, when one retires from such physical activities as professional wrestling, one tends to want to relax and enjoy the beauty of nature... rather, try to.

Father Remus: Of course! Minnesota is a perfect place to enjoy nature.

Brian: Quite...

*The two share a small laugh together. Afterward, Brian turns his head and looks out the window. The shine of the sunlight through the window bothers him; he sighs loudly and shakes his head quietly. Father Remus watches silently and rubs his chin inquisitively. He can tell there is something eating at Brian...*​

Father Remus: Is something the matter, son?

Brian: Well, it's nothing important. After all, it's my burden. You'd think I'm mad.

Father Remus: Oh, that's not necessarily true, my son. There are things that burden all of us, and sometimes sharing and letting it out can be a way of easing our burdens. From what I've heard about you, you definitely have been carrying a burden for a long time.

*Brian quietly thinks for a few seconds and sighs in resignation. He looks at Father Remus, his dull blue eyes boring a hole right through the man like a drill digging for oil. It's the kind of stare from a man that has seen things better left unseen.*​

Brian: Tell me, Father... if there was a force that dictated the way you live, showing you things you wish you hadn't... teaching you things better left unknown, how would you react.

Father Remus: I'm not quite sure what you mean, son...

*There is an awkward pause within the room. The two look at each other for what feels like an eternity.*​

Brian: Here... I show you this because you are a man of God and therefore surely virtuous.

*Brian shifts in his bed, reaching for a drawer beside him, pulling out a decrepit and ugly-looking book. The aura it gives off creates an immediately uncomfortable atmosphere and Father Remus notices a shift in the room. Brian slowly hands the book to him. Father Remus holds it, looking at it up and down, running his fingers against it.​

Father Remus: This is quite... something. "Mundi Deglutiens"...

Brian: "The World's Swallowing". I received it many years ago; that was when I was a younger man.

*Brian and Father Remus share a look, as Remus isn't sure how to receive the item. Remus palpably feels anxious even attempting to open the book, as if there is something there he does not want to see.*​

Father Remus: This is an odd item indeed, if I may say so, Brian. This leather...

Brian: It isn't leather, Father. It's skin, at least, I think.

*Father Remus looks at Brian, shocked. Sweat begins to come down from his forehead as his discomfort grows more prescient. Brian sighs and looks out the window. There is an intense silence for a few seconds before Father Remus breaks it.​

Father Remus: My god... Son, if you have something to confess, please, do so now, so that your soul can be at peace when you go.

*The two look at one another, and Brian merely feels resignation and nods his head, coughing and covering his ill face before proceeding*​

Brian: ... Very well. You may feel free to call me mad, but... when I was a young man, this "thing" entered me. I suppose if there is such thing as a soul, you could say it swallowed half of it. He goes by many names, but... Primus Mortis is his name. "The First Death." Most call him Humanity, as he is the mawing voice of it, I suppose. I've lived with it for over 40 years. He has tortured me, haunted me, kept me awake at night many times... but it seems I've come to understand him, to be a part of him. He is like a parasite, and as you can see, because of him, I am not long for this world. I thought I had him under control for some time, but he returned 25 years ago, with a warning...

Unknown Location, Unknown Date, Unknown Time *Of all the darkest nights, this storm ceases to end; it pours itself upon the dreary window panels, pattering against the foggy glass of antiquity. From beyond the looking glass of this window is the inner catacombs of this decrepit and ancient house in the wilderness. For all of the advancements of humanity, the creation and furthering of technology, this place remains untouched for nigh-on centuries. It is hallowed ground, unnoticed and implacably ill-kept. They say that this place is haunted by the stench of death. Where then, could such a begotten and horrid place exist? Perhaps it is only in the mind, as by the low candlelight of the waxed stick does a small tint of life exist. Through the window breaks a stillness in the air -- and so it begins.*​ ???: Welcome to my home, it is an honor to have you. *A shadow forms from the darkness, a disquieting and discomforting eldritch entity etched in history as a horrific visage of that which men fear most: Death. From the gross, musty wooden doorway enters a disheveled, unnerved, and sepulchral man. His lusterless azure eyes wander from the broken and rugged floor up to what would be the feet of any semblance of a normal human being. A mist surrounds the base of this monstrous and bone-chilling animation, itself seemingly miasmic and incorporeal and without real form.*​ ???: Of course, it is fitting that we meet again, human. *The shadow gives a slow, crawling bow to the sweat-plastered gentleman. The thing appears to stare out, somehow, some way, from where its head should be. The non-physical form begins to shed itself from the being as the horrendous aura grows and seeps into the pores of the horrified man. From the top, the being begins to grow a human-like appearance -- he looks deathly similar to the person before him… a doppelganger of affrighted proportion.*​ ???: Much better; do you disagree… Brian? *The man, now named Brian, clutches his broken hands against the wooden boards of the floor and tempestuously glares from his eyes towards the visage before him. He is staring at himself, after all, something no human truly wishes to witness inside the confines of their own sanity.*​ Brian: Damn you, you horrible fiend. Have you come to torture me further? To hurt me? As if you can take me any lower than I am now. You’ve ruined me, you evil thing. ???: Self-pity is not your strong suit, Brian; it only makes you more pathetic. *The thing smirks uncaringly and without any sense of indignity. Brian takes to his feet to stand in defiance against the demonic entity before him. He has no power to fight back against this most powerful thing that stands within the reaches of his mind.*​ Brian: What do you want from me then… ???: You catch on quickly. The keyword, however, is “want”, my human vessel. Brian: What do you mean…? *Brian’s indignant expression shifts to that of confusion and bewilderment. The doppelganger demon looks at Brian with wild eyes, glinting not of Brian’s own bluish hue but that of blood.*​ ???: If I spent what precious time we have told you everything I know, we would cease to be. Simply put, Brian… I *need* your body again. *This thing has always wanted, and never needed from Brian. What then, in the darkness of this awful prison of the mind could he have a need for the man he has ruined and broken? However, Brian points his wretched finger at the demon thing and shouts maddeningly, not out of fear, but of frustration and hatred.*​ Brian: Now hold on just a damn second here-- I’m not just about to hand over my body to you again so willingly after everything you’ve done to me. Give me one good reason why-- *The thing shifts, taking Brian’s own hand and enveloping it within the incorporeal appendage. Brian grasps his exposed wrist and pulls tightly, attempting to dislodge himself from the damned monstrosity’s grip. The thing, in Brian’s own vision, appears unsympathetic and unmoved.*​ ???: It’s true that I have no compunctions for causing and creating human misery for my own amusement; there is, however, something more malevolent than I am beginning to stir. If we let it wake, then even I will be powerless to stop it. *The entity pulls back, freeing Brian’s hand from its capture. Brian stumbles backward against a broken-down desk, filled to the brim with old works and ancient inscriptions; webbed and dusted for an indeterminate amount of time. Brian’s hand rests on an ancient Phoenician writ, loosely translated into Arabic, and then Latin, with the singular word “Ammar” highlighted in blood. However, Brian is too focused on the thing before him to descry the item.*​ Brian: What the hell are you talking about? It just sounds like you’re talking out of your ass-- Suppose I refuse, what then? *The being thrusts itself into Brian’s face, closely breathing upon him with a tense atmosphere around him. The faux-Brian merely grins, its eyes widened with unhinged sanity perforating forth.*​ ???: You cannot refuse. You will either agree willingly and follow me, or I will leave you within the confines of this place while I do what I set out to do. You would be trapped here, unable to escape… then I could do as I please any time. So you have only one real option here, human. *The being that poses as Brian floats backward to give the real man breathing room to decide. As if Brian would have any semblance of a reasonable choice. the deck has been stacked against the implacably embittered man.*​ Brian: Damn you… Fine. I agree to your terms. ???: Wisely done, Brian. Wisely done -- Our first stop is Arkham. *Brian stands against the damnable thing with much consternation and unexpected emotion. Arkham… It is an old city from the Thirteen Colonies’ period, home to Miskatonic University, one of the most renowned collegiate schools in the world. Its private library is home to many ancient and mystic texts from bygone eras.*​ Brian: Arkham!? That’s over eight hours from where I’m supposed to be in Toronto. I-- I mean, I’m wrestling against Mac Michaud for god’s sake. I can’t abandon this company so willingly. *The thing scowls at Brian and crosses his arms, tapping its fingers rapaciously. it runs a finger across the bridge of its nose and smirks, its devilish eyes closed in conjunction with Brian aggravatedly rubbing his eyes*​ ???: You and your pathetic dealings within the human realm. Take care of this quickly then. We still have some time before something happens. Perhaps days, months, even a year at most. But we must still act with haste. It is time we leave Brian. I will be with you in time. *A whispering wind whips itself into a fervor against the body of Brian, whose bodily figure stands unable to fight against this force, as he is pulled through the empty void of blackness. The entity, without any semblance of correspondence, merely shifts its form back into the grotesque, Lovecraftian shadow. The rain presses itself against the aged windowsill, as this old and prehistoric hovel continues to stand against the elements of the mind. So it ends.* Scotiabank Arena, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, December 11th, 2020 *The scene begins in the backstage area of the luxurious Scotiabank Arena in Toronto, Ontario, Canada; it is the setting for FWA’s Fight Nite. We find ourselves in a private room, which appears to be a mix of a locker room and meeting area. Facedown against a wooden table sits our protagonist of this awful tale: Brian. He is fast asleep, but not for long; he suddenly and immediately shoots up from the desk, caked in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. His eyes appear to have the thousand-yard stare glazed over his blue eyes*​ ???: Holy crap, are you alright? You scared the shit outta me! *Right next to him is a woman, she is dressed in a dark leather jacket over a Motion City Soundtrack t-shirt, long dark blue jeans, and converse shoes. Her face is dotted with freckles and her hair is a strawberry blonde, a singular braided strand on the side, just over her left ear. She stares at Brian worriedly, her almond turquoise eyes piercing with slight shock*​ Brian: I’m-- I’m sorry, Sarah. What happened? I must have passed out for a second. Sarah: You goof, I know you said you were tired, but I didn’t expect you to sleep all day before your match. *Brian and Sarah share a small laugh as he rubs his face as if to shake off a bit of the tiredness still seeping from him. He stares up at the lights of the room, thinking about what he had just experienced. Was it a dream? Was it really another reality entirely different from his own? Was it just in his mind?*​ Brian: Yeah… I guess when you’re carrying around Death in your head, you get tired after a while. *Sarah rolls her eyes and smirks indignantly; She’s obviously heard that joke before. She pretends to laugh and stands up, stepping up to a table where a coffee pot and some cups rest. She takes the pot and pours a cup of coffee for Brian, handing it to him.*​ Sarah: Oh, don’t remind me. So what spooked you awake, huh? Was it being without your great and totally awesome partner in crime? *Brian doesn’t laugh. He pauses for a second, not sure whether he wants to even debate with Sarah what he had been a part of minutes earlier. He tries to stall as best he can.*​ Brian: Uh… I’d rather not talk about it right now. It’s something I’d-- Let’s just-- I dunno, man. *Sarah sees right through him and flashes him a concerned look. She has seen this song and dance many times. She is, after all, Brian’s keeper. She was initially a tutor to Brian many years ago, but that time had passed; now, the FWA had hired her to keep a watch on him and keep him from falling back into his alcohol and drug addiction. She knows very well about the demon inside him, but not who it truly is.*​ Sarah: Is that idiot back again? Please tell me he isn’t back. You were doing so well too. Do we have to change the medicine? Maybe counseling and therapy again? You know Dr. Temill is always available-- *Brian breaks off her concerns by shouting. It is something he tends to do despite her best intentions. A broken man will always retaliate to the smallest things.*​ Brian: I-- You- I don’t know for sure! There are only a few things I know for certain. He’s scared. Scared of something big; what that is, I don’t know. But he told me he “needed” me right now. *A tense moment of silence pervades through the room as the two look at one another, unable or unsure how to respond. Sarah finally takes the initiative to respond and address the situation.*​ Sarah: He’s scared? Shocker. But-- What does he “need” you for, exactly? Outside of living inside your head. Brian: He tells me that… I have to go to Arkham immediately. *Sarah pounds her hand on the table Brian is sitting at, nearly knocking over his freshly poured coffee. Her expression is that of a stern older sister berating a younger brother.*​ Sarah: No way in hell are you going to Arkham right now, mister. You have a match you have to focus on against “Malevolent” Mac Michaud! He’s no easy pickings there, Brian! *Frustration flushes over Brian’s face, knowing that she’s right, but for some reason compelled to listen to the monster within him. He snaps for a second.*​ Brian: I’m aware of that, Sarah! I’ll -- *He looks down and stares at his coffee, he ponders for a few seconds in awkward silence as Sarah watches him intently. She crosses her arms and taps her feet. Brian scowls at the situation before him but ultimately capitulates.*​ Brian: I’ll deal with him and then we take a plane straight to Arkham. Something tells me we’ll know exactly what we’re dealing with when we get there… *With that, Sarah sighs and shrugs, sitting next to Brian. She takes one of his hands and squeezes it tightly.*​ Sarah: Alright, fine… but just know I’m going with you. I don’t need you sneaking off somewhere and getting drunk, okay? *Sarah’s frown turns slowly into a soft smile, her eyes lightening up and becoming more cheery. Brian gently grins back and pats her hand.*​ Brian: I’d probably be lost without you, so I thank you… I better get ready for my match, I’ll see you in a bit. *Brian sighs and stands up, grasping his bag from across the room and exiting the room.*​

*We return to the sanitarium inside Brian's room. Father Remus appears confused but wary; while Brian is steadfast and calm.*​

Father Remus: So this... being, required your assistance for something. It could be a possession. But the way you frame it... Azrael?

Brian: I suppose in accordance to your faith, he would be called Azrael. However, he does not follow anything but his whims.

Father Remus: I see... So where does this book come in?

Brian: Arkham... he directed us to the Miskatonic University library... but when I arrived, it... this will sound crazy, but please listen, Father. It is important that you listen; whether you believe or not matters not to me. What matters is that you listen.

Miskatonic University, Arkham, Massachusetts, December 15th, 2020 *The scene opens in the exuberant halls of a timely and aged chamber of learning. The Miskatonic University’s library of knowledge stands home to some of the greatest occult works written throughout the meandering and festering closeted sects of humanity’s dark side. Amongst the wooden shelves filled with much limited and niche knowledge, we find the man who has come to Arkham, Massachusetts in search of an item of particular importance. Brian Zewbowski walks amongst the tall ledges of knowledge. His appearance looks beyond conspicuous for the man himself who dwells in darkness. He wears a professional-looking black suit over a white shirt and red tie, black pants, and grey loafers. Following close behind him is Sarah DuBois, wearing her usual attire that all things considered, doesn’t make her stand out much more than the other college-aged students; a Ramones T-Shirt, blue jeans, and black Converses.*​ Brian: It’s here somewhere… Sarah: Why are we even here, anyway? There’s no knowledge here, just pure evil. *Brian turns to her with an unimpressed frown. It’s apparent that he has a purpose for being here. The thing inside him compels him to move forward and aid in its yet unknown quest.*​ Brian: You wouldn’t know evil if it bit you on the ass. Sarah: As a matter of fact, you’ve yet to. Brian: Oh god, shut up-- Sarah: Heh- *Sarah wields a smug grin in response to her joke while Brian rubs his forehead with his hand and groans disappointedly A voice comes from inside Brian’s head. A most familiar and foul thing that haunts Brian and everything he does. The damned thing, Humanity, makes its presence known by correcting the two of their faculties.*​ Humanity: You’re looking in the wrong place. It’s in the farthest back corridor. *Brian nods his head silently and turns his head to a decrepit aisle of the library. It appears misshapen and warped as if two realities are diverging against one another. Nobody in the library appears to notice this incredible and horrifying sight. He gulps and begins to sweat profusely… for a few moments, he flees into the confines of his mind.*​ Brian: What the hell is that? Humanity: It is what we are looking for… A glimpse into the past. It is there we will find what we are looking for. *Brian’s consciousness comes back, his eyes glazed with a hint of fear over him, though Sarah doesn’t seem to notice as she’s too busy looking at a book that reads “Musaeum Hermeticum”, a look of confusion washed over her.*​ Brian: I see… *Sarah turns to Brian, who is adjusting his suit-jacket and looking at the silver-plated watch on his left arm… 1:03 PM. He sighs loudly and rubs his eyes.*​ Sarah: You see what, Brian? Brian: He tells me it’s… over here. *He points to the direction of the dimensional hull, a swirling and pungent wall of time dilation and reality breaking cosmicism… to Sarah and the rest of the world, however, it is but a door. She looks back at Brian with an unimpressed look.*​ Sarah: Listening to your little “guardian demon” again? Brian: He’s not a demon, nor is he a split personality, for the last time-- Sarah: Says you-- *Brian, frustrated, places his hands on Sarah’s shoulders… the thing’s influence is warping his thoughts… he can feel it. All he needs to do is just… move his hands over. Brian quickly shakes his head and removes his hands from Sarah.*​ Brian: Just… wait here. Sarah: Okay, cap’n. *Brian ignores her and walks to the damned warp-link himself. He looks around at it, reluctantly reaching his hand outward and into it… it slips through easily! He removes his hand and clutches it. He doesn’t feel any pain, but the sensation is wild. As if grey noise is running itself through his body. It dissipates shortly afterward. He turns back and sees Sarah looking rather bored and eyeing the books. He sighs and plunges himself into the void. Seconds pass as Brian is unable to see anything but the color black.* Unknown Location, Unknown Date, Unknown Time *Finally, Brian collapses as he exits the void on the other side. He coughs and hacks. The sensation he had experienced is stronger. He looks at his hands. They’re fuzzy and static! He begins to panic.*​ Brian: What the hell is this? Humanity: Relax; it is a symptom of the crossing of barriers. It will not desist as long as we are here. It is not harmful-- necessarily, at least. However, we should not stay too long. This isn’t where we belong, after all. Brian: What do you mean? Where the hell are we? Humanity: The past, Brian. Or-- at least another version of the past. It doesn’t necessarily have to be our own timeline. Brian: This is too much for me… Crossing timelines, time travel… What are you? Humanity: That is something we can discuss in the future. For now, focus on the task. *Brian gets to his feet and looks around… it appears to be a library similar to the one at Miskatonic University; something is amiss with it, however. It is dark, cobbled, and disarranged. He quietly looks around and notices the mass of books in disarray, and shelves toppled.*​ Brian: What the hell happened here..? Humanity: It appears that war had come to the Americas in this timeline. Look at the windows and structure. *It was as the thing had noted… windows were shattered, the gleaming moonlight of the destroyed library… the structure of the library appeared to have been either bombed or shot at by tanks. There was nobody to be seen, however. Brian wandered the library in search of what the thing had sought, but things looked hopeless.*​ Brian: There’s nothing here… What the hell are we looking for anyway? Humanity: “Mundi Deglutiens”. “The World’s Swallowing”. It’s an ancient Latin script. It’s also a call signal. I require it. Brian: What the hell for? Humanity: That is my business. Brian: I’ve had just about-- *Suddenly, a figure begins to climb from the rubble, bloody and broken. He is reaching outwards. Brian watches and slowly moves to him, looming over him. The man, who appears to be in his early 40’s, stares up at Brian with a look of confusion.*​ Man: You… You don’t look like Mortis. Brian: Mortis? *Brian spots the man clutching a book, titled “Mundi Deglutiens”... just what Brian is looking for. He starts to think quickly.*​ Brian: Mortis sent me-- I’ve come for “Mundi Deglutiens”. I see you’re the keeper of it. *Brian reaches out to take the book, but the man refuses to let it go, going so far as to pull out a knife. Brian pulls back his hand and has them up in the air.*​ Man: You’re not Mortis… you’ll have to kill me to take it from me, son. Brian: I need you to trust me. I’m here for this book, but only because I need it. Man: And risk giving it to a servant of Ammar? *Brian appears frustrated that his efforts are getting nowhere, and now a new name pops up. Who the hell is Mortis? Who the hell is Ammar? Brian clutches his head as if a migraine is starting*​ Brian: Ammar…? Mortis... Listen, I don’t know, nor do I-- *Brian’s demeanor changes from confusion to stone-faced determination. His eyes glow brightly with beady brown darkness. He looks at the dying man and reaches his hands out. Humanity has taken over. His voice had changed to a deeper and darker tone.*​ Humanity: You will give me the book, now. Ammar will not have it in this timeline, nor in ours. *The man looks into the shifted eyes of Humanity, and he drops the knife, a smirk growing over his face. Humanity drops to a knee and outreaches a hand.*​ Man: … heh… I see. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Here-- have it. Take good care of it. *The man gives the book to Humanity, who nods his head. The man lies back and closes his eyes, resting.*​ Humanity: I will assure you, no harm will come of it. *Humanity stands back up, looking over the man now resting. Humanity turns, his body becoming more fuzzed and static. Humanity returns control to Brian, who, now clutching the book, quickly rushes his way back to the damnable void. He steps through it with haste. Blackness surrounds the atmosphere for some time, allowing Brian to escape into his mind once again.*​ Brian: Who was he? Humanity: He is someone you need not worry about, at least right now. Brian: Alright… what the hell was he talking about? Mortis and Ammar? Humanity: Enough questions, Brian. You’ll know eventually. Miskatonic University, Arkham, Massachusetts, December 15th, 2020 *Brian exits the void sluggishly, book in hand, and leans against a nearby wall to recover from the intense sensations within that hell-hole. The void suddenly and miraculously dissolves and disappears. Sarah comes up from behind Brian and taps him on the shoulder, spooking him for a second.*​ Brian: God damm- Sarah, stop doing that please-- Sarah: What’s up with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Brian: A ghost-- Let’s go with that, a ghost. *Sarah notices the book that Brian is holding and claps her hands together, finally knowing they can leave. Brian checks his watch... 1:05 PM. He had been in there for what felt like hours but was two minutes. Brian shudders and sighs.*​ Sarah: Looks like you found what you were looking for there! Brian: Yeah, we can go now. Sarah: Great. Now let’s get going, we need to train for your big match at the Crossfire Reunion show! Brian: Would it be remiss if I said I almost forgot about that… Sarah: I can tell. *Sarah and Brian leave hand in hand as Brian holds onto the book tightly, like a death grip. It is unknown if this is the influence of Humanity or not. One thing is for certain, though: this mad, gleaming thing of darkness is more than he lets on.*​

*Disbelief washes over the face of Father Remus, unsure quite how to take the fantastic story laid before him by Brian. Brian drinks a cup of water beside his bed and coughs more. Brian reaches out and takes the damned book from Father Remus, placing back into its drawer.*​

Father Remus: My goodness... That is... quite the story.

Brian: I can tell you don't believe me, but Father, please listen further. This thing; at the time, I didn't understand. I was confused and scared. I didn't believe in what I saw, just as you don't believe what I'm saying. I never trusted him. How could, after everything he did to me... but he bit back.

Minneapolis, Minnesota, January 4th, 2021 *Our scene opens in the living room of a somewhat modestly furnished house. Two silhouettes dot the doorway, as one reaches for the light switch. The lamp in the corner of the room blinks on as the room is dotted with impressionist paintings and plants. A black leather couch sits in front of a pair of shaded windows. The silhouettes turn out to be Sarah DuBois and Brian Zewbowski. Brian is shirtless and has dark blue jeans on. His body is bandaged heavily from waist to shoulder. His hands are taped up as well. Indications of dried blood are splattered all around the bandaging. He is helped by Sarah to the couch, where he sits, groaning loudly in pain.*​ Sarah: Are you sure you’ll be alright? *He looks up at Sarah with a pained smile and pats her hand gently. Sarah can’t help but smile back and pat his head* Brian: Yeah, I’m not dead yet. That brawl took a lot out of me, but I’ll be fine in a few days. *The two share some quiet time as Sarah tends to his bandages, making sure they cover his wounds well. Afterward, she stands straight and checks her watch.*​ Sarah: You wait here, I’ll be back in a while, I have to run errands. Just… don’t do anything physical, okay? Brian: I won’t, I won’t, Sarah. *Sarah makes an exit from the room, from the couch, he can hear the front door close and lock. Brian makes a heavy, pained, sigh. His expression changes soon after, his eyes turning from blue to brown. Humanity’s expression is frustration and impatience.*​ Humanity: I’ve bid my time waiting, but I can’t any longer. What the hell happened back there? I told you what would happen if you didn’t trust me. *Brian looks around, annoyed and dismissive. He clearly doesn’t want this right now and makes it plain.*​ Brian: I don’t want this discussion right now.​ Humanity: We’re having it anyways. What is wrong with you!? Brian: I don’t trust you. It’s that simple. Humanity: Is that so? After all that’s happened recently, you still don’t trust me? Brian: How can I trust you? You’re a lying, backstabbing, secretive, immoral bastard. *Humanity forces Brian’s body to stand upright, a flash of incredible anger flushing over his face. His eyes pierce outwards in rage. It is as if Brian and Humanity are now split apart and standing in the same room, but in different bodies.*​ Humanity: Immoral? Immoral!? You call me immoral, and I suppose you consider yourself a paragon of moral persuasion. Let’s not kid ourselves, Brian; you don’t know a damn thing about your own morals, your species’ morals, nor their own history. Shall I give you a refresher on the ineptitude and “morals” your species touts? You pollute the planet in the name of “quality of life”. Hundreds of millions die in the name of religion, imperialism, and nationalism. Politicians lie, cheat, and backstab for their greedy obsession with power. The poor die in destitution, while the wealthy wallow in fortune. Do you call these “morals”? “Help your fellow man”, but marginalize the ones who are of no strategic value. Some “morals”, right? You and your species are the only ones who can ever claim to have morals because it is a mere invention of your mind. Don’t call me immoral when “morals” don’t exist in my reality. What we do, we do without restraint, without fear, without ridicule. How can you expect to win when you don’t know a damn thing about yourself. You’re not some great prognosticator of morality. You’re a filthy human, and that’s all you are. A species that just happens to have enough intelligence to think they can rule the world and bend it to their will. Brian, do you realize just how little your species matters in the grand scheme of things? The entirety will never achieve immortality or the “god-hood” they desire so badly-- *Brian stops to cover his ears, shutting his eyes closed, as the rant from the damned thing is causing him great distress.*​ Brian: Stop-- Humanity: Their continued survival is helped mainly by us, the things that graciously allow you to continue to slaughter each other so senselessly. It is because of us-- Brian: Stop it! Humanity: It is because of us that you live! We can take away that ability if we so desire! So don’t you sit there and act as if you have a moral high ground to fall back to, because you are just as useless and insignificant as the rest of the living beings on this planet! *Brian screams, collapsing to the floor in a fit of rage and fear. He is reeling against the floor and covering his face in despair over the damned thing’s control over him.*​ Brian: Shut the hell up, right now! I refuse to let myself be tortured by your god damn ramblings! I hate you. I hate you with every inch of my being. I will never trust you. Humanity: That is why you fail. If you cannot trust me, how can you possibly expect to trust your partners, both in the ring, and the one by your side? Brian: I-- Shut-- Humanity: You know I’m right. You blame me for the things you have done in the past, but you had the power to stop it if you wished for it enough. Instead, you let yourself be swallowed in the madness. You enjoyed every single second of it until it ate your body away. You say you don’t trust me, but face it, we both know what you’re really saying. You don’t trust yourself. Brian: Sh-- You--... Humanity: You step into that ring because it is the only place you feel at home, but you still don’t trust yourself in there. You fear you’ll take it too far; because you don’t trust yourself, you can’t even trust in your partner for help. You will never win this way. *Brian is quiet for several seconds, he rises slowly and falters back onto the couch, sighing heavily.*​ Brian: You wouldn’t understand, goddammit. You’re a thing that isn’t human. Hell, I don’t even know what you are-- *Humanity softens his disgust and anger and breathes in slowly. The two are silent once again, the tense atmosphere clearly evident between the two. Humanity stares down at the book that was recovered in the destroyed library of another time: Mundi Deglutiens. Humanity knows the importance of this book, and he also remembers the importance of who he needs help from.*​ Humanity: Even if I’m apathetic to the whims of humanity, find disgust in their tendencies to flaunt “morality”, and show great disdain for their arrogance… I still need them, as much as I hate to admit it. My mission isn’t finished-- it may never truly be complete. Due to this, I… need you, Brian. Brian: Even so, how the hell am I supposed to trust myself when you influence my madness. Humanity: … I wouldn’t know the answer to that, Brian. Perhaps you should let the madness take over you. Perhaps you’ll be able to gain control of it-- Brian: -- And if I can’t? *Brian’s eyes luster with fear. He looks at his feet and trembles slightly.*​ Humanity: I sense fear in you. We all feel fear, Brian. Even us beings beyond your comprehension. It is a normal living emotion. Still, even then, we all must conquer it eventually. This is perhaps your greatest fear to overcome: yourself. Brian: Maybe so. I-- I admit that the madness is infectious. It’s… intoxicating. Your influence pushed me into the abyss and it was only because of my family and friends that I even managed to hold on. Humanity: You blame me for your weak will, but that is something I will not make any admission towards. You willingly put your body through a proverbial hell-scape of pain just to survive. I merely asked that you do what you had to. Brian: … *Humanity senses the uncomfortable atmosphere surrounding the conversation, and urges to change it to something else; perhaps a more comforting topic.*​ Humanity: What do you think of where you are now? The place you are at? *Brian pauses for a second and thinks quietly, processing the question slowly.*​ Brian: This place…? It’s changed. Some faces remain the same, but the environment is different. I feel cold, empty, alone here. All my friends are gone, except for Sarah… Nightmare, Marcus, Syn… even that idiot Mason. They’re all gone. My wife left me; my daughter probably doesn’t even recognize me anymore. It’s just you, me, and Sarah now. Nobody goes out of their way to make friends these days; they’d all rather go it alone. It’s either that or they make shaky alliances for the same goal that will eventually fall apart. Humanity: Before looking for others, you should focus on learning how to trust yourself. There’s a human saying… I don’t exactly know where it’s from, “Don’t believe in yourself. Believe in the me who believes in you.” Think of your friend Sarah. She believes in you with all her willpower. You should believe in her because she believes in you. Your opponents want to see you fail, and it’s likely your partner wants to use you for his own gain. That woman is your only constant… What do you think of her? Brian: Sarah? She’s great. You’re right that she believes in me. She does everything in my best interests. She keeps me from falling back into the bad habits of my past. She’s my best friend. Humanity: I wonder… About you and her sometimes. Brian: Hm? *Humanity, for the first time, has a smile. Not a wicked one, or a duplicitous one, but an honest-to-god normal smile. Perhaps there really is some humanity within Humanity.*​ Humanity: She is good for you. Coinciding within you all these years has given me some fairly interesting insight into humans and their emotions towards people. Friendship, dislike, hatred… love; even if they are sometimes foreign, and dare I say, alien to me. Brian: You ramble too much. Just get to the point. *Humanity laughs uproariously and shakes his head in argumentation.*​ Humanity: That’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself, Brian. I can’t spell everything out for you like a parent. Brian: You always go on and on and are just cryptic. Take this damn book for example. You haven’t told me a damn thing about it yet! Why the hell did we go to another timeline just to get this thing? Why is it so important!? Humanity: You-- *Brian cuts Humanity off before he can even start talking. Brian painfully stands up and groans.*​ Brian: “I’ll learn in good time.” Bullcrap. You’re hiding the truth from me for a reason. Do you see why it’s hard to trust you? Humanity: Very well. If you’re so insistent, I will divulge the information kept within that tomb-- after your match. That is what you should focus on, after all; your opponents and your own partner. Brian: Right… I just don’t know what to say about them? JJJ’s a damn weirdo, Grayson can’t win on his own, and my partner… Konchu. Something about him is off. I don’t know what it is, but it feels he has ulterior motives. Humanity: Even so, you’re going to have to trust him if you want a shot at winning. *Brian quietly ponders the implication that Humanity is setting forth. He knows Konchu won’t do anything to lose the match, but he knows that there’s nothing really making him worthy of trust. Brian is resigned to having to trust Konchu if there is anything close to a chance of winning.*​ Brian: Right… I guess I have no other choice then.

*Brian's glossy eyes return to normal as he chuckles and shakes his head. Father Remus raises an eyebrow, intently hanging on every word of what he thinks is a crazy man.*​

Brian: He promised he would tell me what I needed to know, in that book that you hold there. He wouldn't give it to me straight, however. He had to continue to be cryptic, only telling me the answers would be here, in Sleepy Oak.

Father Remus: I see... well, they call Sleepy Oak the "Most Haunted City in America" for a reason. It appears this city is a hub of occult practices.

Brian: Indeed. So I moved here. I quit the FWA shortly afterward. I... became pulled in. I needed to know. But while I left the FWA, I remained in the AMA. Perhaps you've heard of it, I suppose my Daughter has talked about it.

Father Remus: Yes... she did mention that the both of you wrestle for the company, or used to in your case.

Brian: Right...

*Father Remus interjects for a moment to discuss a side-topic that carried his interest.*​

Father Remus: About you and your daughter... Do you two have a good relationship with one another?

Brian: You know, for a long time, I used to think she hated me or didn't know I existed anymore. I hadn't seen her since she was eight. It was complicated and estranged for a while.

Father Remus: I see...

Brian: That though was the year she came back into my life. I hadn't realized it, but my first wife, Stacy, had moved to Sleepy Oak after gaining full custody of Celestia. She never told me that. Nobody told me anything. Where were we, I forget...

Father Remus: You were telling how you had moved to Sleepy Oak after... Humanity told you to search for answers there.

*The two nod their heads and Brian gives a small, weak laugh.*​

Brian: Ah, of course... Well, wouldn't you know, I didn't find but jack and shit, pardon my language, Father--

Father Remus: Worry not, my son. I have heard worse--

Brian: --So "he" had gone radio silent from me for a while. I thought it was a lost cause. I stopped searching after a while and focused on getting my wrestling career back on track. I won my first match in months at AMA Maiden Voyage on April 18th, 2021... and then he returned.

AMA Maiden Voyage 2300 Arena, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, April 14, 2021 [During the Match...] After a few moments, Graves starts to stir as Brian starts to stir as well. Both men appear to be pushing themselves to the limits. This being Brian’s first match back in a few years. As they both crawl to different spaces, Graves to the apron for support, and Brian to the announcer’s table for support. They both use their respective places to pull themselves up as they lean against their locations eying each other. One man fighting the urge to keep that darkness locked away and the other doing whatever is possible to bring that darkness back. They both stand and come back to meet each other again this time the flashes of Humanity appearing as they start exchanging blows in front of the announcer table. The bigger man getting the advantage as he lays into him with rights and lefts around the outside area they go, they have been outside this entire time. As Graves gets backed up Brian throws a wild haymaker that Graves ducks which his speed is an advantage he reaches down onto the announcer table grabbing a monitor and smacking Brian in the head with it knocking him back into the ring post with his back. He drops down into a seated position as Graves goes toward the second casket around the corner, pulling it toward the audience barrier and propping it up on its side. Graves sizes up Brian and comes charging toward him but the big man drops down causing Graves to run into the corner turn post which busts him open and causes him to stagger back. The big man gets up and runs toward Graves hitting him with a huge running lariat that caused him to flip mid-air and land onto his back.​ Pierce Donovan: This has gotten out of hand. To call it a slobber knocker would be an understatement. Jasper Phoenix: This is more ass-kicking than a man in a one-legged ass-kicking contest. Pierce Donovan: I think your imitation of a southern Texas accent is disrespectful. Jasper Phoenix: Well, I am a Cowboys fan. Brian starts to look like his eyes are losing their normal carefree nature. As he goes to stalk the man known as Graves, he grabs him up, pulling him around toward the propped-up casket. Brian wraps his left leg up and upper body and throws him behind him with an exploder suplex into the propped casket with such force and velocity that the casket broke, falling inward, but still propped up with Graves lying on top of it. As the man known as Brian remains seated as his eyes look transfixed in a daze. It’s almost like Brian isn’t even there. He appears to be on autopilot. As Brian stands up he walks around to the last casket and rolls it around toward where Graves is lying still and hasn’t moved. He opens the last coffin which happens to sport a cloth that is solid black inside the coffin. He reaches his right hand up to his neck with his right thumb rolling it across his neck with the throw cut taunt signaling this will be the end for Graves.​ Pierce Donovan: I officially think that Brian has finally lost it! Look at the look in those eyes! Jasper Phoenix: Come on Graves! Get up, man! Get up! This can’t end like this! Pierce Donovan: Just who side are you on here! Jasper Phoenix: The man with a purpose I tell you! Graves has worked so hard he can’t lose it now! He slowly walks toward the prone Graves, grabbing him by his head and rising him to his feet. He lifts him up into a fireman’s carry onto his shoulders. He walks with the man on his shoulders toward the casket, walking to the front of it he flips him over the body first into the casket with his neck-snapping as he lands into the casket. As Graves lies in the casket, we again see Brian again in a seated position with that spaced-out look again across his face. He slowly rises to his feet closing the casket door down onto Graves as the bell rings. The ref though remaining out of sight rung the bell. As "Terror Time Again" by Skycycle, Brian stands up, looking at the coffin before rolling his hand across it.​ Pierce Donovan: Well, it appears that Brian managed to fend off Graves! Jasper Phoenix: But, where is the Humanity? Pierce Donovan: Are you being serious? Jasper Phoenix: As a heart attack. Well, folks, we are going to a paid advertisement! I hope you've been enjoying Maiden Voyage! We've certainly been Going the Social Distance! Coming up next is none other than "The Immaculate" Tora Fushimi vs. "The Ace" Max Maverick in singles competition! [Later That Night...] *Brian is helped to the locker room by his partner in crime and manager Sarah DuBois. Brian sits on a bench as he groans in pain after the toll the match against Graves took on his body. Sarah rubs Brian's shoulders and has a concerned look on her face. The room is quiet otherwise, just being those two.* ​ Sarah: Look at you, winning your first match in a while. I knew you had it in you. Brian: Thanks, it felt good to get back in the ring, but-- Sarah: You really whooped butt out there, I tell you what!​ *Brian sighs and takes one of Sarah's hands, clasping it tightly. The two exchange a glance towards each other and Sarah gives her soft, cheery smile towards Brian. This does some good in easing his anxieties over the ending of that match.* ​ Brian: Ah, you're right. I kicked some ass, didn't I? ​ *Sarah leans down and rests her head on Brian's shoulder from behind him.* ​ Sarah: I'll say you did. Did you hear those fans? They were dying to see you win. Brian: Hmm... Were you eager to see me win? ​ *Sarah smirks and kisses Brian on the cheek softly. She stands upright and laughs.*​ Sarah: A girl never kisses and tells! I'll be right back, I gotta run some errands. I expect you to be right here when I get back, mister. No wandering off! Brian: Yeah, yeah. ​ *Sarah leaves the room, giving Brian some solitude to sort his body and thoughts out after his grueling contest. Brian shakes his head and rubs his forehead, thinking long and hard about something.* ​ Brian: So the prodigal son returns-- ​ *The familiar voice echoes in Brian's head. Humanity is here, taking Brian over momentarily to speak aloud. Brian's blue eyes turn a dark shade of brown and the demeanor of the man changes entirely*​ Humanity: So you noticed. Brian: How could I not. The ending to that match. It was like I wasn't even there. That's how I knew it was you. Humanity: Quite a fortuitous time to make my grand re-appearance, don't you think? ​ *Brian angrily clutches his fists. To speak so casually after disappearing and wasting his time, all because of that damn book.*​ Brian: Where the hell did you go!? You left me to go on some fool's errand search and didn't so much as give me a god damn clue. ​ *Humanity turns towards a mirror and strokes his chin.*​ Humanity: No clues? I gave you exactly the clue you needed. Brian: Yeah, Sleepy Oak. So much going on there, isn't there. I didn't find anything to help me. ​ *Humanity walks up and presses his hand against the mirror and shakes his head, an obnoxious smirk growing on his face.*​ Humanity: You clearly haven't been looking hard enough, Brian. Brian: Oh, is that a fact? Humanity: It has been four months, Brian, and you still didn't look around you. The town itself is the key. You don't just go to Sleepy Oak, Minnesota in search of *one* thing, you go there because it is home to *many* things. ​ *Brian's expression changes to confusion. What the hell is this thing talking about?*​ Brian: I'm not sure I follow... Humanity: I think it's time you visit "Old Town". ​ *Brian has had enough of these vague statements. He pounds the glass mirror and starts to shout.*​ Brian: Now you listen here-- ​ *Before Brian can even finish, into the doorway comes Sarah; she stares at him with a stern expression and crosses her arms.*​ Sarah: What are you doing? Brian: O-oh-- Sarah, nothing. Just, y'know- hyping myself up. Sarah: I'm not an idiot, Brian. Brian: Look-- It's nothing. Sarah: I know you're lying to me. It's "him" isn't it. ​ *Sarah walks up to Brian and looks him straight in the eyes. She can tell that Humanity is back, and she doesn't like it one bit. She merely sighs and hugs Brian, who looks on with a disappointed and shamed expression.* ​ Sarah: He's going to be the death of you, Brian...​

Father Remus: So your wife Sarah knew about this... Humanity, correct?

Brian: Well, everyone knew about it. It wasn't some closely guarded secret. Most people just thought it was a split personality or something. Trust me when I say, it wasn't.

Father Remus: Most intriguing.

Brian: Well, what the hell, he wanted me to go to Old Town. He was very adamant about Old Town; you'd think he was a salesman for Sleepy Oak Old Town, "Come see the sights and haunts of Sleepy Oak Old Town! 'The Most Haunted City in America!'" You know? I don't know, Father... There's more, but... I'd rather not remember it right now. What I've talked about right now-- It's all too much for me.

Father Remus: I understand, my son. It sounds like quite the tale... What about your wrestling career? Who did you face off against after your first opponent Graves?

Brian: Ah let's see... That would have been... I have my booking sheets here somewhere. I kept a close record of all my matches throughout the years.

*Brian eagerly searches through his desk drawers, before pulling out a notebook labeled "2021 Bookings". He flips through some pages before smiling and pointing at an entry.*
​

Brian: There it is... AMA Under Pressure. May 2nd, 2021; I went up against Max Maverick.

Father Remus: How was that match?

Brian: Oh it was very good. I won't spoil who won that match, Father, just know it was a very competitive match. Back then Maverick was one of our better wrestlers, he and I could put together some scorchers, I tell you what. One thing about Max: he was a very cocky guy. He always thought he was better than everyone else. It was his ego that blinded him to a lot of things. Oh... how I wish I could have been blinded by my own ego...

*An intense silence pervades through the room as Brian sighs heavily and looks out the window. He sets the notebook beside him and turns back towards Father Remus.*​

Brian: Father, I don't feel very talkative anymore; perhaps if you return another day I can tell you more.

Father Remus: Of course, of course. I can come back another time, and we can pick up where you left off. Or we could talk about the weather, sports, anything at all.

Brian: I would like that very much, Father.

Father Remus: Farewell, my son, I'll see you soon.

*Father Remus stands and shakes Brian's hand, turning to leave; he stops at the doorway to turn back to Brian, but steps back, aghast. Brian's demeanor has changed; he is sitting upright on the bed, feet on the floor and staring at him coldly. Brian's beady blue eyes have changed to dark brown, something Father Remus notices immediately. Brian begins to speak, but it isn't Brian's voice. It is much deeper, more menacing...*​

Humanity: One final thing, Father. Brian isn't lying. I'm still here, after all.

*Father Remus stares at the man that was Brian mere moments ago. His wicked smirk tells the priest everything he needs to know about this thing.* ​

Father Remus: I... see...

*Father Remus steps out of the room, closing the door behind him. Sweat begins pouring down his face as his anxiety skyrockets. He speaks to himself tersely and looks up towards Heaven.*
​

Father Remus: Dear God... what happened to that man; I must know more about that book too...

*Father Remus saunters from the door down the hallway. The scene cuts to black as he turns the corner and disappears; screams of other patients can still be heard all-around a few seconds after the scene fades; finally, there is nothing left.*​

 

[Jimmy King]

2300 Arena
Philadelphia, PA
April 18th, 2021

Shortly after his match, AMA cameras find “The Ace” Max Maverick celebrating backstage. As you can come to expect from Max, he’s overly obnoxious with his celebration. Flanked by his bodyguard, Solomon Black, who remains stoic despite his involvement in the match, Maverick stops anyone he can find to gloat about his win over Tora Fushimi.

“Did you see that out there?! Did you?! Did you see how I beat that little pissant?!”

He screams at a poor stagehand that was walking by just trying to work. Just then, Maverick finds backstage interviewer Bryce Montgomery, who looks less than enthused to be approached by Maverick after dealing with him earlier in the evening before the match.

“Hey Bill, did you see that?! Did you see what I did to Tora Whatshisface?!”

“Uh, it’s Bryce, and his name is Tora Fushimi.”

“His name isn’t important; it doesn't matter! Do you know what does matter? The fact that I embarrassed him in front of millions of fans! He thought he could beat me, well he thought wrong!”

“Well, it was certainly a tremendous match that will have people talking for weeks to come; how do you feel about your first win under the AMA banner?”

Max looks at Bryce like he’s the dumbest person he’s ever met, and believe me; Max has encountered a lot of dumb people.

“Have you been paying attention?! How do you think I feel, you idiot?! I feel great! Do you know who isn’t feeling great?”

“Uh, Tora Fushimi?”

“Correct! That little snot-nosed punk thought that he could beat me, but he was wrong! I was his senpai, and he wanted nothing more than for me to notice him, and I did notice him, and when I noticed him, I slapped the taste out of his mouth!”

“Well, with Tora Fushimi seemingly in your rearview, coming up at the next AMA event, Under Pressure, you’ll be facing another man that has made waves in the wrestling industry for years, Brian Zubowski, aka Humanity. What can we expect to see from you against Humanity?”

Max smirks at that question and chuckles.

“What do you think? You can expect to see me do the same thing to Brian or Humanity or whatever his stupid name is that I did to Tora Sushi tonight, and that is to give him a beating that he won’t ever forget!”

“Well, there you have it, good luck at Under Pressure.”

“Thanks but no thanks, I don’t need luck. When you’re THE Ace, you don’t need luck. Luck is for losers, and I’m a winner.”

Bryce Montgomery nods and walks off, leaving Max with Solomon Black. The two of them walk down the hall to Max’s dressing room, and upon entering it, Max retrieves his cell phone from his bag and makes a call right away.

“Chester! Yeah, it’s Maverick. I want you to see what you can dig up on Brian Zewbowski, and whatever you find, you make sure you get back to me.”

He hangs up the phone and looks over at the cameraman, then he looks at Solomon Black, gives him a nod, and Black shoves the cameraman out of the room and slams the door shut.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later, fans are treated to Max Maverick standing by in his office in his luxurious home located in Venice Beach. Max is sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair as he stares at the camera while his bodyguard, Solomon Black, stands beside him.

“The reviews are in, and my match with Tora Fushimi at AMA’s inaugural event, Maiden Voyage, is getting rave reviews. It was a smash hit! The people can’t stop talking about it, and I can’t say that I blame them. Not only did I come out as the winner, as if there was ever any doubt, but I made a star in Tora Fushimi. Do you see that? I even bothered to learn how to pronounce his name now properly. Any success that Tora achieves will all be thanks to me; you’re welcome, kid!”

Max leans forward and snaps a finger; just then, one of his associates brings over a bottle of some unknown liquor along with a glass. Max unscrews the bottle cap and pours himself a drink, he takes a sip, and he savors the taste before speaking up once more.

“As for my next opponent, well, he’s certainly a rather...unique character. You see, I had someone do some digging on Brian Zewbowski, and what he discovered was something I’ve never seen before. This Zewbowski claims to have some sort of demonic entity that resides inside of him and chooses to take control of him whenever it sees fit. This demonic entity calls itself Humanity…”

Max stops and laughs; he can’t contain his laughter and keep a straight face any longer. He pours himself another drink after his laughter fit subsides, takes a sip, and continues.

“Seriously? This is the guy that they throw at me?! Some looney tunes that think he has a demon inside of him?! Listen, Brian, or Humanity, whichever one of you shows up to the match, doesn’t matter. It can even be your brother, sister, cousin, aunt, uncle, or your stupid old granny; it doesn’t matter, I’ll whoop them all!”

Max leans back again while clutching his glass of liquor.

“I made Tora Fushimi a star at Maiden Voyage. I've mentioned it countless times already, but it bears repeating. Now, you, Brian, unlike young Tora, you’ve been around the block. You’ve been through your fair share of matches in your time in this industry, but eventually, your time started to wind down, and you took a hiatus. Now, you’re back, and you’re looking for some shine, you’re looking for extra shine from Max Maverick to help revitalize your once dwindling career, but if you think that’s what’s going to happen at Under Pressure, well then, you’re dumber than you look!”

“You saw what I did for Tora Fushimi and his career and how his popularity has skyrocketed, so you begged that fat oaf Oliver Thawne to give you THE Ace at Under Pressure so you can feel what it’s like; to be a star once again, am I right Brian? Or is it Humanity that I’m talking to? It doesn’t make a difference because I’m not some charity that will give away anything for free, especially to some FREAK like you! The only thing I’ll give you is an ass whooping that you won’t ever forget! You know what? I will do you a favor because I am feeling generous, I’ll knock some sense into that bug-addled brain of yours, and you’ll forget about there ever being a demon possessing your body or whatever it is you think is happening to you!”

Max leans forward once again and holds his glass up.

“You, just like Tora Fushimi and everyone else, will learn why I am THE Ace of this company! See you at Under Pressure, Brian, and don’t forget to bring along your little demon pal!”

He finishes off his drink, and the scene comes to an end.​