The War is Over (The Crowning II)
Feb 8, 2022 20:13:49 GMT -5
Project: Honor and gothmother like this
Post by OZYMANDIAS on Feb 8, 2022 20:13:49 GMT -5
WORLD WAR THREE
Funny, how it always comes down to these situations. It’s never a clash of kings, a fight for the ages between two of the greatest. It’s never an evenly matched pairing of the best there is, tearing each other limb from limb.
It’s always a cluster-fuck, one after another. A gauntlet, a menagerie of bodies and souls clawing and scraping for the moment in the spotlight. Not one name, not two names, but a dozen bodies stand before us. A dozen victims, a dozen lost fools.
Gone are the days of clashing with the unbreakable Havoc’s, the unbeatable Dickie’s, the mighty Warstein’s, the immortal DeDraca’s. Why throw so much shit at the wall, in the hopes that one turd sticks?
Ekaterin has proven that he knows as much about this blood sport as Johnson did before him. Give the media something to pop over, give the fans what the wants, a simulation of some twisted fantastical orgy ion the ring. Bodies, blood and a dozen heads to roll.
Still, it matters not in the end.
All Men Must Fall.
OLD HARBOUR
The home place of the Butcher has seen many changes over the years, from denizens to structures, to topography to even those that come and go. But one thing remains steady. Not the weather, not the air, not even the reputation.
The aura.
Entering the village fills outsiders with a cold, empty ominous feeling of dread that tingles the spine and caresses their very insides. A cold feeling of doubt, dread and inner decay. Rarely do we get blessed with visitors in this cold north, and alas this is not unlike those other days.
“Those fools should force the crew to come visit, to whip and lash their errand boys to venture north. Days before the event, it has not even crossed the horizon yet they still beckon us forth. The gall of these people…”
Unhappy with their summons, Meredith Agnar let’s her thoughts flow. Mayor to the village, cold iron fist to her people and Arch Priestess of her tribe. But irk her by ruining her plans?
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn.
“I don’t know who this Adam fellow is, but if he thinks he can just click his little fingers and we should come running, that his top star needs to listen to what he has to say. The man that has built the company, the man that has set the standard!... do you listen to me!”
Ozymandias stands next to her, loading cases into the back of a waiting SUV. He doesn’t speak, but the roll of his eyes says a thousand unspoken words.
“When we arrive I would have a work with this new manager, I would have a moment of his time to lash him and shred him, and tell him-“
“You will do no such thing.” Ozymandias firmly, yet politely stops Meredith in her tracks. “We must voyage south to this show in due time regardless, what is a few days extra?”
She looks at him, her eyes swelling with rage. But she subsides, and maintains her composure enough to circle the vehicle and climb into the empty passenger seat. Ozymandias loads the final bags into the vehicle and enters the back, taking the entire back row to himself.
“Meredith, my friend, do not boil at this suggestion. Do not seethe, we are doing what we are being asked to do. Not commanded, not requested. We are abiding by contracts and our purpose.”
She folds her arms, looking directly ahead as the driver slowly pulls the vehicle ahead.
“You are their Legacy Champion. You are THEIR Champion, THEIR leader. They do not command you, they do not call on you. You should learn to speak up for yourself, and know when to tell them to cease.”
Ozymandias leans forward and places a bear-sized hand on her shoulder, with enough of a squeeze for her eyes to dart to the rear view mirror and make contact with the beast behind her.
“I speak for myself, Meredith. I answer to nobody, lest the Great Old One himself commands me. Remember that.”
He releases her, and the voyage enters a state of silence. No words are said, and Meredith remains to stare forward with intense ferocity in her eyes.
The drive is long to the airport, and the air is ripe with aggression.
THE WELLS FARGO CENTER
The venue is already in the early stages of preparation for the event, a good amount of days still away but the good folks of Project Honor have at least put together a small press area. Not quite populated with reporters and paparazzi, but a few key members of the press are seated there and awaiting the arrival of the Legacy Champion.
A small pop-up screen decorated in the various imagery of past and present champions hangs behind the stage, and a small desk with microphone and bottle water awaits the arrival of the Butcher. Before he can make his presence however, Meredith Agnar walks out front he side and takes a position right at the front of the stage.
“Members of the press, thank you for joining us today. It is not our choosing to be here, nor our desire to answer your questions today, alas we are fulfilling our obligations. Thank you for doing the same.”
She looks around the room with a vicious stare, a serene mode of aggression in her eyes. A half dozen members of the Project Honor media team are sat before her, dotted around in their seats surrounding by an abundance of empties. Despite the shoddy turnout, Meredith goes through the motions.
“Allow me to introduce to you the greatest Champion this company has ever seen. The most dominant warrior to grace the mats of Project Honor. The Butcher of Reine… The Warrior of Cthulhu… The new Tyrant… The Breaker of Champions… The Oligarch of Wrestling... Your Legacy Champion… Ozymandias.”
No music plays, no fanfare or exciting entrances arise. Just the hulking beast of Ozymandias entering from the side, the Legacy title thrown over one shoulder as he keeps his eyes strained forward towards Meredith, and hers back to meet his.
His scales the steps to the stage and walks to the center, removing the Legacy title to place it right before him and then takes his seat. Meredith steps to the side to allow a better view of the champion, and signals fore the first reporter to ask their questions.
“Ozymandias, thanks for joining us today. First question is probably the most obvious question… how are you feeling going into this WarGames match? You have two ruthless teams gunning for you, and you have shown in the past that you walk around with a target on your back.”
The Legacy Champion allows the reporter a moment to retake their seat, and another moment to let a tense silence build in the air before speaking.
“These pathetic fools failed to get the job done on our last encounter, what makes you think they would do any better this time around? Because they have swapped out the Puma for that moronic fool Fairweather? So did we. Do they think by throwing another group into the mix that it will change the flow of the match? It limits them. This whole fiasco is ludicrous.”
The reporter looks on, not quite sure what to say.
“KaVengers or whatever imbecile name you give them, failed to impress me last week. They failed to leave any kind of lasting impression. And as I double-choke slammed their helpless bodies to the mat, I hoped to myself it would be the last time I would be surrounded by runts. Unfortunately, the new powers that be have decided that my suffering is not yet over, and this circus must continue.”
“Last time it was a simple five on five, and with the team you had around you it seemed like an easy win. This time your team is fractured, with a member of True Society on your side of the ring. Petey had a brick shattered over his head. YOU got rained on by two former rivals, pretty badly!”
The Butcher lets out a grunt, long and metallic, a wheezing sound to notify the reporter he has heard enough. He sits forward in his chair, growing closer to the microphone.
“Havoc and Syndicate can form their little alliances, it matters not to me. I have broken both men individually, and I will gladly remind them of what I am capable of. The rest? They are dirt on my boot.”
Meredith motions to the reporter to sit down, and moves to the next set of questions.
“Yes, I have a question regarding an old face making a reappearance… Drago Santiago. He has been out of the ring for a long time, and his re-emergence alongside True Society… does that mean anything to you? True Society is a growing powerhouse, and them picking up former champions, former GOATs, current champions… Big Drip might be a funny moment in your career but have you thought about forming a rival team yourself?”
The Legacy Champ sits back in his chair, putting his hands together in a tight grip.
“Santiago means nothing. An old dog trying to shake off cobwebs. He knows me, I know him, I am not concerned. True Society, sure that is something. That is a concern. Not for me, not for my people or my legacy, but for all of Project Honor. There is a cancer growing, a sickness, and each new member to this motley crew is another growth that needs to be removed.”
He looks at the reporter, awaiting another question but nothing.
“I have pondered this notion, to form an alliance. To build a unity. I have garnered respect in this game, from peers like DeDraca and Hunter, to rising stars like Shelldrake and Jackson. My stance in this is simple… I could not care less. Let the company die, let the company succumb to this sickness. It matters not… but Ekaterin is desperate to save his new child. And as such he is sending in his cure.”
He breathes in, his mask wheezing a little.
“…me.”
Before the reporter can follow up, Meredith moves to the next reporter, ready with his questions.
“You mentioned Elena DeDraca, former holder of that same belt you have there. What is the dynamic between you two like now? Are you friends? Partners?”
Meredith turns to Ozymandias, a sharp sideways looks that can be interpreted a hundred ways, but the Butcher remains vigilante in looking forward.
“Elena is the greatest holder of my belt. She is inarguably the greatest Legacy Champion we have ever seen. To those aware and to those uninitiated, there simply has not been a bigger name nor a bigger threat to walk these halls… until now. I do not wish to tarnish her name nor besmirch her legacy. I wish to join the ranks that she stands alone in.”
He scoffs, a slight joyous sound to it.
“I wish to enter the Hall of Fame, along with Elena. I wish to stand alongside her, both my mentor, my muse and my equal. Friends do not exist when blood is to be spilled, but acquaintances? Partnerships? Those are deals that could be possible.”
“Will we see you two in action together then, now that she has been signed onto the Proving Ground brand?”
Ozymandias deflects the question, looking at the reporter for a moment, then to Meredith who signals the next question.
“Please, speak, for we are quickly growing tired of this situation.”
“I guess my question concerns that very belt before you. You have achieved all you said you would, from the Grand title to the Legacy title. You entered this company a made man, a well known name and you achieved more here than you did in WrestleWorld or even the XHF Network. So now that you have reached the top of the mountain…what comes next?”
Meredith smiles, and she actually takes charge on this answer.
“I think what you are asking, is what remains before us as a challenge? What remains before us as a purpose? Ozymandias has proven there is nobody on this roster he cannot beat, nobody he cannot break. He has beaten every previous Grand Champion, he has dethroned the untouchable Legacy Champion, and he has left bodies in his path.”
Meredith walks to the center of the stage, seemingly taking the spotlight from Ozymandias.
“We are on the cusp of something great, far greater than Project Honor. Far greater than the perceivable world before you even We are on the edge of a new dawn, for myself and Ozymandias represent another being, so vast, so powerful…”
Her words trail off as her attention is drawn so some commotion at the rear of the interview room. A swath of police officers are marching forward towards the stage, accompanied by the security team within the Wells Fargo arena. Only they are not stopping the officers, they are accompanying them.
“What is this meaning of this interruption?”
The police make their way on stage, a couple moving towards Meredith and the remaining eight or nine surrounding Ozymandias, who is still seated and looking none too concerned.
“Meredith Agnar, we have reason to believe you may be involved in a number of disappearances and deaths that have occurred from 2015 to 2022. You are under arrest, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will…”
The cops produce a set of handcuffs and begin to subdue her, but Meredith balks them off.
“What is this! Have you lost your minds!”
As her rights are being read to her, the second officer grabs her to keep her still while the first cuffs her. Neither men see the looming figure of the Butcher coming for them, toppling over the table and sending his Legacy belt flying as he tries to unhand the officers.
“Let go of me!”
Meredith fights, but the two men are having an easy job of restraining the one-hundred-pound female. It’s the near three hundred pounds bull charging forward that makes them jump out of the way, his charge only slowed by the officers grabbing him. He launches one officer off the stage with ease, and swings his other arm to send another flying.
His boot drives another backwards, and he shoulder barges another to the floor. That is when the Tasers appears, and not one but three officers hit him with enough electricity to knock a horse down… but he persists, clenching and grimacing in pain. They zap him again, and again, finally bringing him down to one knee after the third blast.
The officers try to cuff him but he still has fight in him, and they are unable to keep him still. More hits with the Taser and he begins to slow, weakened and his body failing him. The officer manages to get a set of cuffs on him, but in a burst of power he snaps the cuffs in two and stands upright, arms out.
“You will suffer for this! You will all rue the day you crossed my path! I am the Butcher, you are nothing!”
The cops try yet again to Taser him but it seems like he has become immune to them, grabbing one of the Taser strands and ripping them out of his own skin. As he claws and reaches for the next, a flying dart hits his side, drawing his eyes to the object and the source.
“You…”
Adam Ekaterin, stood next to another officer who is wielding what looks to be a dart gun. Ozymandias can barely understand the situation before he is shot once more, and the combination of the tranq dart and the electricity brings him down to his knees.
“Baldur Magnusson, you are under arrest for the disappearances and the deaths of several people form the time period of 2015 to 2022. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you…”
As his rights are being read to him, Ozymandias can only stare at the new GM, his eyes in a ball of fire. Adam Ekaterin comes closer, a safe distance until he has been cuffed several times, but close.
“There is nothing I could do, they told me they were coming for you, and I had to let them through.”
Ozymandias looks at the GM, his eyes still fuelled with rage but his body subdued for now.
“They mentioned what you did, they told me what they are charging you for…”
The cops lift Ozymandias up, barely, and several of them begin to lead him away.
“…how could you do it? Why did you do it?”
Ozymandias just growls, and is taken away before he can even say a word. Meredith is next, still kicking and screaming.
“You will pay for this you fool, you will pay! You think this gives you power over us, you think you have any power over what we are capable of? You are a lost lamb.”
“This is all on you two, doing your evil deeds. I am only finding out what monsters lived under my roof today. Ozymandias will be a loss, but you? I don’t know if you are the puppet master pulling the strings, or the puppet itself. Either way, I can’t believe what I am hearing today.”
Meredith cackles as she is pulled away, but not before getting in her last words.
“They will all pay for this, this is only a temporary setback. And you, Ekaterin, you are nothing…you hear me, nothing!”
Adam motions to the cops to take her away, but not until Meredith gets one final word out.
“You have no control here… you never had, you never will… you are easily replaced… if you don’t believe me, look at what happened to the last guy.”
As Meredith is pulled away, Adam Ekaterin is left with a lost look on his face.
“The last guy… Rock Johnson! No… it couldn’t…”
The cops clear out, the media team in hot pursuit for their stories, and the GM is left alone. He lifts the toppled table and picks up the Legacy Championship, looking down on it in his hands as he stands alone.
“What happens now?”
We fade out, leaving the GM alone, and marking an end to this chapter. This Legacy… over before it even begun.
The Butcher.
The Warrior.
The Tyrant.
The Corrupted.
The Monster.
Funny, how it always comes down to these situations. It’s never a clash of kings, a fight for the ages between two of the greatest. It’s never an evenly matched pairing of the best there is, tearing each other limb from limb.
It’s always a cluster-fuck, one after another. A gauntlet, a menagerie of bodies and souls clawing and scraping for the moment in the spotlight. Not one name, not two names, but a dozen bodies stand before us. A dozen victims, a dozen lost fools.
Gone are the days of clashing with the unbreakable Havoc’s, the unbeatable Dickie’s, the mighty Warstein’s, the immortal DeDraca’s. Why throw so much shit at the wall, in the hopes that one turd sticks?
Ekaterin has proven that he knows as much about this blood sport as Johnson did before him. Give the media something to pop over, give the fans what the wants, a simulation of some twisted fantastical orgy ion the ring. Bodies, blood and a dozen heads to roll.
Still, it matters not in the end.
All Men Must Fall.
OLD HARBOUR
The home place of the Butcher has seen many changes over the years, from denizens to structures, to topography to even those that come and go. But one thing remains steady. Not the weather, not the air, not even the reputation.
The aura.
Entering the village fills outsiders with a cold, empty ominous feeling of dread that tingles the spine and caresses their very insides. A cold feeling of doubt, dread and inner decay. Rarely do we get blessed with visitors in this cold north, and alas this is not unlike those other days.
“Those fools should force the crew to come visit, to whip and lash their errand boys to venture north. Days before the event, it has not even crossed the horizon yet they still beckon us forth. The gall of these people…”
Unhappy with their summons, Meredith Agnar let’s her thoughts flow. Mayor to the village, cold iron fist to her people and Arch Priestess of her tribe. But irk her by ruining her plans?
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn.
“I don’t know who this Adam fellow is, but if he thinks he can just click his little fingers and we should come running, that his top star needs to listen to what he has to say. The man that has built the company, the man that has set the standard!... do you listen to me!”
Ozymandias stands next to her, loading cases into the back of a waiting SUV. He doesn’t speak, but the roll of his eyes says a thousand unspoken words.
“When we arrive I would have a work with this new manager, I would have a moment of his time to lash him and shred him, and tell him-“
“You will do no such thing.” Ozymandias firmly, yet politely stops Meredith in her tracks. “We must voyage south to this show in due time regardless, what is a few days extra?”
She looks at him, her eyes swelling with rage. But she subsides, and maintains her composure enough to circle the vehicle and climb into the empty passenger seat. Ozymandias loads the final bags into the vehicle and enters the back, taking the entire back row to himself.
“Meredith, my friend, do not boil at this suggestion. Do not seethe, we are doing what we are being asked to do. Not commanded, not requested. We are abiding by contracts and our purpose.”
She folds her arms, looking directly ahead as the driver slowly pulls the vehicle ahead.
“You are their Legacy Champion. You are THEIR Champion, THEIR leader. They do not command you, they do not call on you. You should learn to speak up for yourself, and know when to tell them to cease.”
Ozymandias leans forward and places a bear-sized hand on her shoulder, with enough of a squeeze for her eyes to dart to the rear view mirror and make contact with the beast behind her.
“I speak for myself, Meredith. I answer to nobody, lest the Great Old One himself commands me. Remember that.”
He releases her, and the voyage enters a state of silence. No words are said, and Meredith remains to stare forward with intense ferocity in her eyes.
The drive is long to the airport, and the air is ripe with aggression.
THE WELLS FARGO CENTER
The venue is already in the early stages of preparation for the event, a good amount of days still away but the good folks of Project Honor have at least put together a small press area. Not quite populated with reporters and paparazzi, but a few key members of the press are seated there and awaiting the arrival of the Legacy Champion.
A small pop-up screen decorated in the various imagery of past and present champions hangs behind the stage, and a small desk with microphone and bottle water awaits the arrival of the Butcher. Before he can make his presence however, Meredith Agnar walks out front he side and takes a position right at the front of the stage.
“Members of the press, thank you for joining us today. It is not our choosing to be here, nor our desire to answer your questions today, alas we are fulfilling our obligations. Thank you for doing the same.”
She looks around the room with a vicious stare, a serene mode of aggression in her eyes. A half dozen members of the Project Honor media team are sat before her, dotted around in their seats surrounding by an abundance of empties. Despite the shoddy turnout, Meredith goes through the motions.
“Allow me to introduce to you the greatest Champion this company has ever seen. The most dominant warrior to grace the mats of Project Honor. The Butcher of Reine… The Warrior of Cthulhu… The new Tyrant… The Breaker of Champions… The Oligarch of Wrestling... Your Legacy Champion… Ozymandias.”
No music plays, no fanfare or exciting entrances arise. Just the hulking beast of Ozymandias entering from the side, the Legacy title thrown over one shoulder as he keeps his eyes strained forward towards Meredith, and hers back to meet his.
His scales the steps to the stage and walks to the center, removing the Legacy title to place it right before him and then takes his seat. Meredith steps to the side to allow a better view of the champion, and signals fore the first reporter to ask their questions.
“Ozymandias, thanks for joining us today. First question is probably the most obvious question… how are you feeling going into this WarGames match? You have two ruthless teams gunning for you, and you have shown in the past that you walk around with a target on your back.”
The Legacy Champion allows the reporter a moment to retake their seat, and another moment to let a tense silence build in the air before speaking.
“These pathetic fools failed to get the job done on our last encounter, what makes you think they would do any better this time around? Because they have swapped out the Puma for that moronic fool Fairweather? So did we. Do they think by throwing another group into the mix that it will change the flow of the match? It limits them. This whole fiasco is ludicrous.”
The reporter looks on, not quite sure what to say.
“KaVengers or whatever imbecile name you give them, failed to impress me last week. They failed to leave any kind of lasting impression. And as I double-choke slammed their helpless bodies to the mat, I hoped to myself it would be the last time I would be surrounded by runts. Unfortunately, the new powers that be have decided that my suffering is not yet over, and this circus must continue.”
“Last time it was a simple five on five, and with the team you had around you it seemed like an easy win. This time your team is fractured, with a member of True Society on your side of the ring. Petey had a brick shattered over his head. YOU got rained on by two former rivals, pretty badly!”
The Butcher lets out a grunt, long and metallic, a wheezing sound to notify the reporter he has heard enough. He sits forward in his chair, growing closer to the microphone.
“Havoc and Syndicate can form their little alliances, it matters not to me. I have broken both men individually, and I will gladly remind them of what I am capable of. The rest? They are dirt on my boot.”
Meredith motions to the reporter to sit down, and moves to the next set of questions.
“Yes, I have a question regarding an old face making a reappearance… Drago Santiago. He has been out of the ring for a long time, and his re-emergence alongside True Society… does that mean anything to you? True Society is a growing powerhouse, and them picking up former champions, former GOATs, current champions… Big Drip might be a funny moment in your career but have you thought about forming a rival team yourself?”
The Legacy Champ sits back in his chair, putting his hands together in a tight grip.
“Santiago means nothing. An old dog trying to shake off cobwebs. He knows me, I know him, I am not concerned. True Society, sure that is something. That is a concern. Not for me, not for my people or my legacy, but for all of Project Honor. There is a cancer growing, a sickness, and each new member to this motley crew is another growth that needs to be removed.”
He looks at the reporter, awaiting another question but nothing.
“I have pondered this notion, to form an alliance. To build a unity. I have garnered respect in this game, from peers like DeDraca and Hunter, to rising stars like Shelldrake and Jackson. My stance in this is simple… I could not care less. Let the company die, let the company succumb to this sickness. It matters not… but Ekaterin is desperate to save his new child. And as such he is sending in his cure.”
He breathes in, his mask wheezing a little.
“…me.”
Before the reporter can follow up, Meredith moves to the next reporter, ready with his questions.
“You mentioned Elena DeDraca, former holder of that same belt you have there. What is the dynamic between you two like now? Are you friends? Partners?”
Meredith turns to Ozymandias, a sharp sideways looks that can be interpreted a hundred ways, but the Butcher remains vigilante in looking forward.
“Elena is the greatest holder of my belt. She is inarguably the greatest Legacy Champion we have ever seen. To those aware and to those uninitiated, there simply has not been a bigger name nor a bigger threat to walk these halls… until now. I do not wish to tarnish her name nor besmirch her legacy. I wish to join the ranks that she stands alone in.”
He scoffs, a slight joyous sound to it.
“I wish to enter the Hall of Fame, along with Elena. I wish to stand alongside her, both my mentor, my muse and my equal. Friends do not exist when blood is to be spilled, but acquaintances? Partnerships? Those are deals that could be possible.”
“Will we see you two in action together then, now that she has been signed onto the Proving Ground brand?”
Ozymandias deflects the question, looking at the reporter for a moment, then to Meredith who signals the next question.
“Please, speak, for we are quickly growing tired of this situation.”
“I guess my question concerns that very belt before you. You have achieved all you said you would, from the Grand title to the Legacy title. You entered this company a made man, a well known name and you achieved more here than you did in WrestleWorld or even the XHF Network. So now that you have reached the top of the mountain…what comes next?”
Meredith smiles, and she actually takes charge on this answer.
“I think what you are asking, is what remains before us as a challenge? What remains before us as a purpose? Ozymandias has proven there is nobody on this roster he cannot beat, nobody he cannot break. He has beaten every previous Grand Champion, he has dethroned the untouchable Legacy Champion, and he has left bodies in his path.”
Meredith walks to the center of the stage, seemingly taking the spotlight from Ozymandias.
“We are on the cusp of something great, far greater than Project Honor. Far greater than the perceivable world before you even We are on the edge of a new dawn, for myself and Ozymandias represent another being, so vast, so powerful…”
Her words trail off as her attention is drawn so some commotion at the rear of the interview room. A swath of police officers are marching forward towards the stage, accompanied by the security team within the Wells Fargo arena. Only they are not stopping the officers, they are accompanying them.
“What is this meaning of this interruption?”
The police make their way on stage, a couple moving towards Meredith and the remaining eight or nine surrounding Ozymandias, who is still seated and looking none too concerned.
“Meredith Agnar, we have reason to believe you may be involved in a number of disappearances and deaths that have occurred from 2015 to 2022. You are under arrest, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will…”
The cops produce a set of handcuffs and begin to subdue her, but Meredith balks them off.
“What is this! Have you lost your minds!”
As her rights are being read to her, the second officer grabs her to keep her still while the first cuffs her. Neither men see the looming figure of the Butcher coming for them, toppling over the table and sending his Legacy belt flying as he tries to unhand the officers.
“Let go of me!”
Meredith fights, but the two men are having an easy job of restraining the one-hundred-pound female. It’s the near three hundred pounds bull charging forward that makes them jump out of the way, his charge only slowed by the officers grabbing him. He launches one officer off the stage with ease, and swings his other arm to send another flying.
His boot drives another backwards, and he shoulder barges another to the floor. That is when the Tasers appears, and not one but three officers hit him with enough electricity to knock a horse down… but he persists, clenching and grimacing in pain. They zap him again, and again, finally bringing him down to one knee after the third blast.
The officers try to cuff him but he still has fight in him, and they are unable to keep him still. More hits with the Taser and he begins to slow, weakened and his body failing him. The officer manages to get a set of cuffs on him, but in a burst of power he snaps the cuffs in two and stands upright, arms out.
“You will suffer for this! You will all rue the day you crossed my path! I am the Butcher, you are nothing!”
The cops try yet again to Taser him but it seems like he has become immune to them, grabbing one of the Taser strands and ripping them out of his own skin. As he claws and reaches for the next, a flying dart hits his side, drawing his eyes to the object and the source.
“You…”
Adam Ekaterin, stood next to another officer who is wielding what looks to be a dart gun. Ozymandias can barely understand the situation before he is shot once more, and the combination of the tranq dart and the electricity brings him down to his knees.
“Baldur Magnusson, you are under arrest for the disappearances and the deaths of several people form the time period of 2015 to 2022. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you…”
As his rights are being read to him, Ozymandias can only stare at the new GM, his eyes in a ball of fire. Adam Ekaterin comes closer, a safe distance until he has been cuffed several times, but close.
“There is nothing I could do, they told me they were coming for you, and I had to let them through.”
Ozymandias looks at the GM, his eyes still fuelled with rage but his body subdued for now.
“They mentioned what you did, they told me what they are charging you for…”
The cops lift Ozymandias up, barely, and several of them begin to lead him away.
“…how could you do it? Why did you do it?”
Ozymandias just growls, and is taken away before he can even say a word. Meredith is next, still kicking and screaming.
“You will pay for this you fool, you will pay! You think this gives you power over us, you think you have any power over what we are capable of? You are a lost lamb.”
“This is all on you two, doing your evil deeds. I am only finding out what monsters lived under my roof today. Ozymandias will be a loss, but you? I don’t know if you are the puppet master pulling the strings, or the puppet itself. Either way, I can’t believe what I am hearing today.”
Meredith cackles as she is pulled away, but not before getting in her last words.
“They will all pay for this, this is only a temporary setback. And you, Ekaterin, you are nothing…you hear me, nothing!”
Adam motions to the cops to take her away, but not until Meredith gets one final word out.
“You have no control here… you never had, you never will… you are easily replaced… if you don’t believe me, look at what happened to the last guy.”
As Meredith is pulled away, Adam Ekaterin is left with a lost look on his face.
“The last guy… Rock Johnson! No… it couldn’t…”
The cops clear out, the media team in hot pursuit for their stories, and the GM is left alone. He lifts the toppled table and picks up the Legacy Championship, looking down on it in his hands as he stands alone.
“What happens now?”
We fade out, leaving the GM alone, and marking an end to this chapter. This Legacy… over before it even begun.
The Butcher.
The Warrior.
The Tyrant.
The Corrupted.
The Monster.
