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Post by Sebastian Hamilton on May 21, 2023 10:38:25 GMT
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Post by Trent Darby on May 27, 2023 9:33:29 GMT
The scene opens to an infinite black void. No lights, no scenery just the empty impenetrable vastness of a dark abyss and the sudden onslaught of a bell that starts feint in sound and steadily increases in volume until it is nigh impossible to ignore it anymore. From the halfhearted comforts of a cheap motel bed in Lake Charles, Louisiana a tattooed arm claws its way out from under a blanket and blindly slaps at a bedside table trying to find the source of the racket finally managing to luck his way into acquiring the ringing phone and pulls it back under the covers. “Wuhhoizzit?’
‘What? Who is it for those who are unable to understand what it sounds like when the human brain is not quite functioning at peak performance.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
Bleary eyes shoot open at the sound of an agitated voice and Trent sits up without another word, dread slowly filling his heart. ‘Fuck, I forgot to call her.’ "L-Lizzy? What…what’s goin' on? What'd you-”
“Imagine my shock when Jewel comes running up to me the other day, saying ‘Hey Mom! You’ll never guess who was on this…combat thing. And he was right, I never would have guessed so I’ll ask again, do you think I’m stupid or something, Trenton. 'I'll be out of town for a few days' I wonder why.”
Shit, full name basis she was mad. You would never guess by this dynamic that he was the older sibling of the two but that was not the important part of this conversation. Tentatively he runs a hand through the mess that is his shaggy bedhead before cautiously replying with “N-No, of course I don’t. I meant to tell you about it of course, I just wanted to…” Trent trails off, searching for a moment to find the right words that might lead him out of this minefield, finally settling on“ “...Find the right way to do it, I suppose. I know how you tend to worry, so I was hoping to keep things under wraps for a little while longer is all.”
‘Jewel’, I thought you were on my side. It would appear that nobody had taught his six-year-old nephew that it was not nice to snitch on your favorite, only uncle when he was keeping something from your mother. “How’d he even find out, anyway? I didn’t know Julian even watched this kind of stuff.”
There was a long sigh over the phone in response and finally “He was over with a couple of his little school friends, and supposedly they’re big fans. Superfans of some pirate and some El Lan guy? Turns out there was a huge debate over there because you fought one of the other kids' favorites, and he simply couldn’t wait to share. Now, when exactly did this all come together, Trent?”
At least she had gone back to Trent instead of Trenton, things were progressing smoothly. A lot could be said about his younger sister but the most important was she was a good woman, no matter what she did she simply could not stay angry very long. On the other hand, it still seemed unwise to mention the first thing that came to mind, that being ‘Did he tell you that I won that match, at least?’
1-0 baby, this whole wrestling thing was starting to pay off already.
““I uh...listen…” Groading with the early morning pains that came with a lifelong night owl being woken up way before their body’s cycle would want, Trent rubbed his bleary eyes with the palm of his free hand and gave his shaggy head a quick shake, trying to clear out the early morning cobwebs with little success. ““I can't have this sort of conversation with you right now and I gotta check out of this place to find a way to Tennessee in the next couple of days but I promise I’ll come by after that and we can talk in person and you can curse me out to your little heart's content, promise. So can you find it in your heart to forgive me for the time being?”
“Mmmm…” She wanted to be mad still, you could hear it in the voice mixed with concern and a little bit f doubt. Finally, though she relents and simply states “Against everything in my brain telling me to say no. Just…call me later, alright. We’ll talk then.”
““You know I will, kiddo.” This was a grown woman with children, but sometimes a big brother has to assert their position over the younger sibling. Especially when the younger one was taking over the role of being the most responsible party in the dynamic so the elder can chase a dumb dream of wrestling professionally. ““As soon as we touch ground in Tennessee, but I got to get ready to check out for now, alright. I’ll call you later, Lizzy.”
Before she had a chance to change her mind and go ‘On second thought I want to yell and point out how dumb you’re being actually’ the phone is hung up to audible relief of the couple staying in the room next door. Note to self, next time don’t stay in the cheapest motel available, the walls are just paper.
Outed by a six-year-old; truly you couldn’t trust anybody with anything anymore.
““The king gave the order, and they brought Daniel and threw him into the lions’ den. A stone was brought and placed over the mouth of the den, and the king sealed it with his signet ring so that Daniel’s situation might not be changed.”
Much like a scene set when he had spoken to El Landerson, Trent Darby is seen looking out at the streets of a mostly still street in the dark of night as he leaned up against the side of a building. As he speaks he has an unlit cigarette in the corner of his mouth and he has a small plastic lighter mich like you could find in about any gas station in America in his hands, every so often flicking it so there’s a spark of flame before simply letting it die out instead of lighting the cigarette.
““Caleb Scott, man I gotta tell ya; these people don’t waste any time around here do they.” It was a statement more than a question and he finally lights the cigarette in his mouth, taking a small drag on it before letting out a small sigh. ““I don’t expect you to remember my name after just one show so allow me to offer you a reminder: My name is Trent Darby, and I like to pride myself on being an honest man. The last honest man not only here in IIW, not only on Friday night combat but in all of pro wrestling, so you can believe what I’m about to say is the truth.”
““Now just take a deep breath, man. While I started up my paraphrasing a biblical story I want you to rest easy in knowing that I’m not here to preach or pass judgment on y’all, but simply to have a conversation. See Caleb, I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve followed you for a while here on Combat, and while people might be able to say a lot of things about you there’s one thing that we can’t deny and that is simply that you are a very tough man. I mean hell for a while there you were the Global champion, *The* guy here on the Friday night show for a reason. It wouldn’t be unfair to say that you were the lions in this analogy, waiting on ol’ Daniel to be led into the den for slaughter. “
Not entirely unrealistic for a man who calls himself the Granite City Sadist.
““See me on the other hand, I can admit I haven’t done nothin''' of note yet in this company. Compared to you, I’m just some guy here for his second week of work who pinned a little masked man after throwing him head-first into a turnbuckle. Most people, overconfident people would be tempted to overlook a guy like me. See I can admit that I ain’t the biggest guy here, nor the strongest or the quickest but what I am is one of the more stubborn guys around, and I’ve become good at taking the point of this elbow-” just in case it wasn’t clear or our friend Caleb was more of a visual learner Trent holds up his right arm and bends it so the elbow was on prominent display“ “and bashing it into another man’s temple to the point where they can be pinned for at least three seconds.”
Taking one final drag on the mostly unused cigarette, Trent discards it and spends a few moments running a hand through his unkempt beard seeming to be lost in thought for a moment. ““I likened you to a lion before, Caleb but one has to wonder: is a lion truly a lion if it has been beaten down to the point of domestication? While Jack Tyde and his gang of wacky misfits have been doing their best to court you into their group, it strikes odd that someone who once proudly dubbed himself the Granite City Sadist would need assistance from a spooky sea pirate and friends to get what needs to be done done, unless he’s not quite as fearsome as he used to be.”
There was a silent pause where not even the city made a noise at the thought before a lanky shoulder was shrugged. ““Not that I’m suggesting that’s the case, but…we’ll certainly see, won’t we. See the contracts have been signed so Caleb; I’m not usually in the business of making guarantees. I try and stay somewhat humbled, in this sport nobody knows better than me that all it takes is one lucky shot or a slip-up and just anything can be ripped away in a second but I will simply say that on June the second, in Nashville Tennessee you play the role of the lion, I play the role of Daniel as we enter that lion's den. I can’t say for certain that it will be the lion, and I can’t say for certain that like Daniel of legend, I shall rise from the den unscathed but the one thing I will guarantee is simply this. You and I are going to walk into war together and in the end, no matter what happens we shall both leave the venue vastly changed men.”
For the better or the worse was left unsaid. Perhaps even Trent himself was unsure whether the said change was going to be a positive, all that matters is that at the very end, he can’t help but flash a small smile of…anticipation? Something else? It was hard to say and the only person who knew didn’t seem like he was in any rush to say.
““I’ll be looking forward to seeing you on Friday, man. And that’s God’s honest truth.”
google docs put it at 1850
I had more I wanted to put, quickly running out of room so maaaaaybe part 1 of 2? we'll see how busy work is. |
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Post by Caleb Scott on May 30, 2023 9:09:39 GMT
The camera opens to a shot of a storefront in St. Cloud, MN. The street lamps burn through the cloak of the fog surrounding the building. Getting closer, the name of the store comes into focus as "Von Hanson's Meats," a local butcher shop. The night is silent besides the flickering fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, casting an eerie glow over the dimly lit butcher shop. Inside, the scent of raw meat hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled like electricity. It was late, and the shop was empty, except for one familiar figure. Caleb stands at the worn wooden counter, his jet-black hair dangles around his face, emphasizing his intense eyes and sharp face paint. In one hand, he wields a sharp cleaver, while the other clenches into a tight fist. His piercing gaze fixates on the camera. It was a peculiar location for him, but Caleb revels in the strangeness. The faint hum of the nearby refrigeration units underscore the tension as Caleb begins to speak, his voice dripping with a menacing edge. "Darby, you may have won your debut match, but you're about to step into the ring with a different beast entirely. I've faced the best in IIW, and they've all fallen before me. Florida Man and Cyrus have paid the price for stepping into the ring with me. I told them exactly what would happen but they still decided their best course of action was to enter the ring with me. Like you, I'm an honest man, so I did what I said I would do and left them both a crumpled heap. Their debt has been paid and now a debt falls on Trent Darby. That debt, which I demand from him, is a pound of flesh."As he speaks, Caleb rhythmically brings down the cleaver, chopping through slabs of beef with precision. Each strike seems to echo his words, reinforcing the intensity of his proclamation. Flecks of crimson spray across his face, lending an unsettling contrast to his stoic expression. "Music City is where that debt will be paid. You might be riding high after your debut win against El Landerson but that feeling is about to come crashing down once you step inside the ring with the Granite City Sadist. Look at the destruction I have left in my wake so far. Darby will become just another forgettable victim as I continue to rip through the Combat roster."With each sentence, Caleb's grip on the cleaver tightens, veins pulsate on his forearm. The camera pans in closer, capturing the intensity in his eyes. "Your sister, Liz, is right to be worried about you. Especially this match. I will slice and tear and rip until I have what I am owed by you, Darby, and every other person in the locker room."The sound of the cleaver relentlessly hitting the wooden chopping board punctuates Caleb's words, amplifying the rawness of his demand. The meat piles up before him, resembling a macabre altar of his IIW dominance. "If you think your knee injury that had you sidelined for years was bad, you're going to be permanently shelved from wrestling after you step into the ring with Caleb Scott. You will be relegated to living the rest of your life in a shell. You won't be able to move, unable to speak or do anything for yourself and my face will be burned into your memory as the person that did that to you."With a final, forceful swing of the cleaver, Caleb slams it down into the block of wood, leaving it quivering in place. He steps back, his eyes ablaze with a sinister fire, and raises his hands, displaying his blood-splattered palms as if presenting his claim to the world. "You call yourself the last honest man in professional wrestling. Well, let's be honest with each other then. You made the biggest mistake of your life coming to IIW. You should've just found another small promotion to keep working in because you've unknowingly taken your last match."The camera lingers on Caleb's menacing visage, capturing the intensity and dark aura that surrounds him. The butcher shop stands as a testament to his unyielding resolve and his promise to unleash his fury on Combat as he works back towards the Global Championship. However, suddenly a light tapping can be heard from outside the back of the shop. The sound of metal clanging against metal echoes throughout the butcher shop forcing Caleb to turn around and look at the back door that is sitting just barely cracked open. Caleb wipes the remnants of blood from his hands onto a nearby towel, his senses heightened by the tapping noise that echoes through the back door of the butcher shop. His gaze darts towards the source of the sound, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. With cautious steps, he makes his way towards the door, his mind racing with possibilities. Pushing open the creaky door, Caleb steps out into the alleyway behind the shop. The dim light of a flickering streetlamp cast eerie shadows against the brick walls. The tapping noise grows louder, echoing off the narrow alley walls. Caleb's jaw clenches as he follows the sound, determined to uncover the truth. As he moves down the alley, Caleb spots something on the brick wall, a "143" spray painted in black. Caleb immediately realizes who is here. "You really won't relent until I sit beside you in Nightmare Court, huh? You come to my hometown and continue to pester and distract me."Caleb's grip tightens around the cleaver that he still held in his hand, his knuckles turning white. Caleb continues to follow down the alley, his senses honed to pick up any hint of his adversary's presence. Yet, despite his best efforts, Jack Tyde remains elusive. Frustration creeps into Caleb's voice as he calls out into the darkness. "Show yourself, Tyde! No amount of hiding will save you from what I have in store. You cannot escape the reckoning that awaits you!"Caleb's eyes dart around, searching for any sign of Jack Tyde's presence. The tension in the air thickens, a palpable aura of confrontation enveloping the alleyway. "You can hide all you want but you, and Nightmare Court, won't escape the fate I have in store for all of you. The time for games is over."Caleb eventually turns and begins to walk back towards the butcher shop. Once he enters, he sees something that makes him stop dead in his tracks as a look of confusion covers his face. Sitting in front of him, next to the pile of bloody meat, rests a skull with "TD" carved into the forehead. A familiar sight for Caleb but he remains taken aback because he did not set this one up. Next to the skull burns a black candle, the wax drips down the side to the surface of the counter, crawling into the blood from the hacked up meat. Caleb cannot resist but to approach the counter, cleaver still in hand, and place his free hand on top of the skull, running his thumb over the carved initials. "It appears I have been left a gift. First you break into my home then you leave this for me. You are a mysterious being but it would be a shame to let this go to waste."Caleb now grabs the candle and begins to slowly pour the hot wax over the skull. The wax hardens as it drips in front of the eye sockets as Caleb places the candle back on the counter. "Trent Darby. Your time on Combat has come to an end. You will be torn through and tossed aside as I continue my campaign. I will show you just how cruel and dark this world can be. You can at least say you went undefeated during your time here but Charm City is indeed calling and, after I again do exactly what I say I will do in Nashville, I will send you back there to finally occupy your Final Resting Place."With the cleaver gripped tightly in his hand, Caleb brings it above his head as he intensely looks down at the skull. With one strong motion, the cleaver comes down and splits the skull in two as small fragments of the skull and blood explode outward. The cleaver sticks in the wooden counter as the final shot shows the bloody stuck cleaver between the pieces of skull before fading to black. ____________________________________________  |
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Post by Trent Darby on May 31, 2023 13:03:42 GMT
“What are we? What is it that truly makes a man what they are? Is it the families we are born into? The people we meet in everyday life? Is it something else entirely, something that was scripted far ahead of time before we’ve even taken a single breath on this earth?"
For once a scene opens up not to the pitch blackness of the middle of the night but on a surprisingly busy street in a later afternoon backdrop of Baltimore, Maryland. The voice speaking is unseen but the focus of what appears to be a camera of some sort zooms in on a pale blue house that currently seemed to be sitting empty.
“D’you see that house at the end of the street there? The pale blue one that looks like it should have fallen down no less than three times under the weight of a gentle summer breeze? That, my friend is the home that I had the pleasure to call home for most of the twenty-eight years I’ve been on this planet. The first time I saw someone get into a fight and get arrested it was the house right across the street right there. First time I kissed a girl, the first time I brought her home and did a little more than kissing was there in that house. It’s for the people who lived in that house that I first got into a wrestling ring, why I’m still here trying to make a career out of it all to this day. But that’s…not why I’m interested in talking to you today, man. I’m here to talk to you about the future, Caleb.”
Trent continues to wander mindlessly down this unnamed street, giving a casual nod of somewhat polite acknowledgment to anyone he brushes past along the way with his hands in his pockets until he finally comes to a stop in front of the mentioned pale blue house and seems to study it almost quizzically.
“‘A debt falls on Trent Darby’, man if I had a nickel for any time I’ve heard some variation of that in my life, I never would have had to have gotten into wrestling in the first place.”
Trent gives a small smile that doesn’t quite seem to match the tone of the words he just said and takes a set on the bottom of the steps that led up to the front door of the mentioned house, clasping his hands together as he did so.
“Now, I know what you’re thinkin’, man. ‘Trent, we already heard you do a whole lot of talkin before, what’s the point.’ And I can’t entirely say you’re wrong, man. People don’t want to watch Combat because of all the talking over the course of the show. But y’see-” There’s a slight pause as Trent lazily scratches his jawline, giving a small halfwave salute to another unseen figure who supposedly was walking along the street.”As our date with destiny draws closer there waere just a few things that have been going around and around in my head, so I figure what the hell, right.”“Don't worry, people because there's really only two main points I want to make, Caleb. First and foremost: Let’s get the obvious out of the way Caleb Scott is a hell of a tough bastard. I said it when we spoke last, man but anybody who is a former Global champion is a different breed of animal. Not to repeat myself too much because nobody wants to hear the same thing over and over again but in this story of Daniel going from facing El Landerson in the first match who, no disrespect intended Landserson is not exactly on the top of the Combat totem pole to a former Global champion is a little bit like being thrown to the wolves and left for dead.”
Trent pauses and for a moment he has a…face that’s hard to explain. Not exactly fear, or concern, or excitement but somehow a mix of the three that both showed all of those emotions and showed no emotion at the same time.
“And maybe you’re right Caleb, hell maybe she was right too. Trent this ain’t exactly your wheelhouse man, global wrestling, not exactly working at 100 perfect anymore, maybe you should just give it all up and move on, find something else to do that you can pretend makes you happy.”
There is another small ‘smile’ that's more like he’s pursing his lips than anything else, clearly not all thrilled with the idea of finding a non-wrestling means of employment.
“Wrestling..is a vice. Hell for some it’s a full-blown addiction” One of many that tend to plague members of the industry, sadly enough. “So I can’t sit here and tell you it’s a good thing I came back to wrestling. I can’t and won’t rant and rave and make empty promises that I’ll prove to you and everyone that I’m a winner and I’m here to stay, because if I end up failing then my words ring hollow. What good is an honest man who can’t back up every statement that he makes?
“But Caleb, the other thing is you shouldn’t be able to make these guarantees either. Because you see it’s quite clear to everyone watching that ever since you’ve been having this…” Trent trails off, trying to find the best way to summarize this group dynamic before just giving a small shake of his head. “Whatever’s going on with the Nightmare Court, hey your business I’m not looking to get in your way. But you my friend are a man who finds himself at a crossroads. Even now, as you walk a warehouse in St Cloud and you make your threats about how my career is over at match 2 and Nashville will be my final resting place, you’re still focused on Jack Tyde and the Nightmare Court. See the problem with trying to keep your eye on two balls at once is things have a problem to slip by the minute one ball commands a little bit more of your attention. And it’s just how I am man; I’ll be honest. I don’t care if you slip on a banana peel, a win in his business is hard to get. Especially beating a former Global champion, I won’t apologize just because you were distracted with spooky pirates."“With that, Trent pushes himself up off of the stoop and makes a show of dusting off of his jeans, and climbs up the stairs towards the house but something makes him stop in his tracks.
“” When I first got here, I told El Landerson that it wasn’t personal, but it was just a necessary introduction. Caleb on Friday night, when we meet in Nashville you, man I hate to say it man, but you’re a statement. A statement that win or lose, Trent Darby is not afraid of top guys. Not afraid of big names. That Trent Darby, the last honest man in pro wrestling is here. And Trent Darby is not going away anytime soon.”
Try not to get,lost on your way to Nashville, alright?. You strike me as a ‘Graceland’ kind of guy.””
1200 words of blech, according to google docs good luck to Caleb.
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Post by Caleb Scott on Jun 1, 2023 0:13:10 GMT
The camera fades in as the sun begins to set over the grand Parthenon in Nashville, casting a golden hue upon its ancient pillars. Amongst the droves of tourists and history enthusiasts, a figure stood out among them, his imposing presence catching the attention of passersby. It was none other than Caleb Scott. Caleb stood before the Parthenon, its magnificence serving as a backdrop for his impending proclamation. He begins to speak as his words echo throughout the night. "Look at this place. It might be a replica but it doesn't make it any less impressive. A testament to the grandeur of the past, where gods once roamed and legends were born. But tonight, right here in Nashville, a new legend will be written."Caleb continues as he stands completely still, staring at the massive structure, his voice dripping with disdain. "Trent Darby, tonight we stand on the precipice of a battle that holds significance beyond mere competition. It is a test, not only of your physical prowess but of your spirit. You see, Trent, I know your story. I know how a devastating knee injury forced you out of the ring, leaving you questioning your abilities, your very identity."The conflicted Caleb's voice carries a mixture of challenge but also a shocking sense of empathy. "But here you stand, swayed back into the ring, driven by the burning desire to prove that you can still compete at a high level. You want to silence the doubts that linger within you, to show the world that you are not defined by your past injuries. However, Trent, it is precisely this vulnerability, this lingering doubt, that I will exploit. I will test the strength of your resolve, pushing you to your limits, both physically and mentally. Can you still rise above the adversity? You were lobbed a match with Landerson which you unsurprisingly handled just fine but now the real test has arrived. Tonight, you step into that ring not only to face me, but to face your own demons. The doubts that taunt you, the whispers of uncertainty that linger in the darkest corners of your mind. I will magnify them."The sun sinks lower into the horizon, the Parthenon being engulfed in total darkness until the lights come on and provide a false sense of security from the lurking night as patrons begin to evacuate the area. "You parade yourself as the epitome of honesty. So I think it's time you look inward and be honest with yourself. This match is a mistake. You've been thrust into a situation you don't fully grasp. You did beat Landerson in your debut and seem like a talented enough individual. I'm not underestimating you, I'm trying to help you. Honesty is a noble virtue, but in this world of deceit and treachery, it can be a curse. Stepping into the ring with me is suicide. If you have followed me as close as you say, then you know I will not be stopped on my journey back to the Global Championship because Combat is my show."Caleb begins to walk towards the doors of the Parthenon. Tourists heading the opposite way as the night begins to cover the surrounding area. Caleb admires the pieces of history inside as he passes by them, walking with a purpose to an unknown location. Eventually, Caleb walks into a large room, the ceiling dwarfs Caleb as it reaches nearly 100' up. In the middle of the room rests a massive statue, a statue that demands your attention the second you enter the room. A 42-foot statue of Athena. "Don't get me wrong, Trenton, it's a noble position to take. Always being honest can, admittedly, be a difficult thing to be. People don't always want to hear the truth or can't handle it. The truth can hurt people. It can be a double-edged sword, a weapon that cuts both ways. Honesty may appear noble, but it blinds you to the harsh realities of the world we inhabit. It shackles you to a moral code that limits your potential. In this cutthroat business, honesty can be your downfall."Caleb takes a deep breath, his words resonating through the air as his voice grows more impassioned. The massive statue of Athena towers over Caleb as he looks up at the Goddess of War. "You see, Trent, the truth can be a bitter pill to swallow. Sometimes, it's better to wear a mask, to present a façade that shields you from the harsh judgment of others. In IIW, deception is an art form and honesty is a liability. You may claim to be the last honest man in professional wrestling, but what has honesty truly brought you? A sense of self-righteousness? A false notion of moral superiority? While you bask in the illusion of integrity, I have embraced the darkness, the shades of gray that define the human experience. Your honesty is just something that will be used for others to exploit."Caleb pauses, his face changing as he goes deep into thought. Realizing his words are an unfortunate truth, Caleb puts his head down and shakes his head as he continues to struggle between light and dark, good vs evil. "I stand here, Trent, not as an advocate for deceit, but as a realist. I've seen the darkness that lurks behind the façade of honesty. I've felt the sting of betrayal and the twisted dance of manipulation. And in the end, it's survival of the fittest, not the most honest."Caleb snaps out of the funk he put himself in and looks back up at Athena. Caleb's eyes lock onto the statue of Athena, as if seeking guidance from the ancient goddess. "The only truth that matters tonight though is that you cannot defeat me. By the time that bell rings and our match begins, you will have already been defeated. You know exactly what I'm capable of and I don't think you have what it takes to overcome it. We're about to step into that ring and go to war. As it stands, you're walking into an uphill battle. A nearly insurmountable mountain to climb but truth be told, I hope I see something from you. I hope you push me to my limits, I hope you make me use every bit of energy I have to defeat you because even though you will not get the victory, something in me wants to see you prove that you belong here. It will be a battle of epic proportions but like Athena here defeated Ares, Caleb Scott will ultimately stand above Trent Darby in victory."As Caleb faces the statue, the lights slowly begin to dim until the screen is pitch black. Suddenly, a row of torches ignites between Caleb and Athena. The flames flicker as the shadows bounce around the statue. "One thing I do not need or want in our match is help. I want you, Trent, one-on-one. Jack Tyde is not welcome, Nightmare Court is not welcome and if they do show up, I will take the proper action to preserve our bout. Your time has come. Tonight in that ring, I will show you the price of your honesty. I will expose the downfalls of your noble ideals and reveal the harsh realities that await you. You can brush off my words all you want but it will not change a thing. Make your final preparations because June 2nd will become the day you are laid to rest in your Final Resting Place."Caleb's gaze doesn't break from Athena. He breathes heavily with anticipation of the upcoming match with Trent mixed with everything else that has come to be on Combat. As Caleb stares, the flames slowly begin to get smaller until they eventually extinguish. The lights then come back on to reveal Caleb no longer inside the Parthenon. The Parthenon seems to hold its breath, as if awaiting the clash between two contrasting philosophies that would unfold later that night. The final shot shows Athena, Nike standing in her palm as she grips her shield with her other hand, before fading to black. ___________________________________________ |
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