Shortly after Lethal Lottery....

Corey Smith awoke face down on an unforgiving metal floor. Consciousness came slowly like rivulets of water trickling through a sieve, and in those fuzzy moments between sleep and awareness fear took hold with a quickness.

No! Corey gasped and pushed himself to his feet. His heart hammered as he took in his surroundings. Surroundings that were as impossible as they were destitute. The boy found that he was in a simple jail cell. There was nothing inside, not even a bed. And beyond that...nothing else either. Just a cell hanging in pitch darkness, but somehow illuminated from within. Running to the bars, Corey reaches through them seeking to confirm what he's seeing. His fingers extend into the inky nothingness, confirming the truth. In that moment, Corey felt paradoxically smothered by the expanse of nothingness around him. The blackness was encroaching and suffocating.

Corey turned his back to the bars, sliding down them as his mind raced to pull the pieces of his shattered memories together. Where am I? How did I get here? Who....?

Corey.

He picked his head up. Lux! Shooting to his feet once more, he looks around for the source of her voice, and sees that there is now another cell adjacent to his and is mystified how he managed to miss it before. Going to the side of his own prison facing the other cell, he sees Lux sitting on the floor within. She looks up at him, and what Corey sees steals his breath and makes him run cold with terror anew. Lux... he whispers, voice tremulous.

It was the most frightening thing he had ever seen. Lux was seated with one leg bent inward and the other splayed out, an almost childlike position. Her back was hunched over a bit, shoulders stooped. But it was her face that Corey instantly knew he would never forget until the day he died. A face that for months he had taken solace in as a resolute beacon of strength and confidence. A face he turned to for answers and reassurance, the visage of a warrior who had traversed time and space to challenge fate itself for the soul of a people. The strain was clear, she was a woman trying desperately to bring together disparate threads of bravery and sanity and temerity but the threads were quickly becoming frayed. Her eyes were overcast and distant, but Corey knew that that was just a bellweather erected against sheer terror beneath. Corey's guts roiled to behold those eyes. Lux, what's going on?

She didn't answer at first, and when she did it was like the words were being smuggled out. It's going to be okay. Lux winced, looking torn. No....that's a lie.....

The boy wrapped his hands around the bars. You're scaring me....

I was going to lie to you just then. I'm sorry. You deserve better. Lux's voice was stilted, and in a peculiar way processing her words was like playing that childhood game where you try to make out what each other is saying underwater.

You need to tell me what's happening.

I lost, Corey. I lost.

Wh-what? Corey stammered.

The Engineer was stronger than I knew. He beat me. Her jaw tensed, her eye lids fluttered, and her neck stiffened like she was pushing the words through an impasse.

Shaking his head, Corey let out an involuntary nervous laugh. That's not possible. Then, with a sudden flash of anger, Fuck this. He focused his psychic energies on the bars he was gripping, seeking to unmake them as he had shaped the environs in his own mind many times before. Fingers coiled about the steel until they burned white, he pulled, but they did not move. Grimacing, Corey stepped back from the bars and turned his attention to Lux. You think this is funny, you fuck? I know it's you.

I'm not The Engineer. Lux returned wearily, glancing down at the floor of her cell.

Eat shit. Corey threw himself at the bars again, grabbing at them and pulling mightily once more. Contorting his thin frame as he wrenched with all his might, but still there was no give. His expression devolved into a baneful rictus as he devoted his rage to the act and got nowhere. Finally, he pulled away abruptly and began to kick the bars. Fuck, fuck, FUCK, FUCK!

Lux shot up and went to the bars of her own cell. Corey, we need to focus on reality and we have very little time. I need you to listen. Her voice was taking on an approximation of it's normal authoritative tenor, but the exhausted undercurrent was impossible to deny.

So what? So we just give up? Throw our hands up? “Oh well, he got us!” FUCK IT!

Corey....

How the hell can you just “stop” Lux? Just roll belly up and admit defeat?! The hell is wrong with you? He rushes the bars, coming as face to face with her as possible. After everything we've been through!

I know! She swallows deep. I know. But....

NO! Just....NO!

Corey, they're going to kill me.

Corey pressed his palms in tight against his ears, reverting to a childlike regression to keep the awful truth at bay. Hoping against hope that maybe if he pushed hard enough and closed his eyes tight enough and wanted it bad enough that he would wake up somewhere else, somewhere happy where Lux wasn't going to die.

You need to listen to me! Corey!

He screamed but to his ears he could scarcely hear it. He didn't know how long he screamed for exactly before a soft caress met his face. When he opened his eyes he saw that the tips of Lux's fingers could just barely grace his cheek. Lux was pressed against the bars so that she could touch him, her guard broken as tears swept in. Her finger tips worked a gentle dance over his cheekbones, meeting his own tears and catching them. Corey's body wracked with a violent sob and he reached up to take her hand in his.

It's my fault.

Lux didn't respond. She worked her fingers over Corey's, rubbing them, before touching his face again. A gentle caress at his temple, her forefinger traveling up to get lost in one of his curls. You were stronger than I could have hoped, Corey. You were so strong....

Corey sidled up next to the bars, numb and simply allowing Lux's fingers to trace patterns on his skin. Bringing a hand up to his mouth to try to quell his sobs, he finds that he cannot.

You were a brilliant light, Corey. It's funny, in a way. My name means “light”. But it fits you better.

You're going to die because of me. The words are choked and breathless. His chest hitches halfway through and he drops down onto his haunches. Lux follows him down, continuing to caress his face.

I was always going to die. What I was attempting? My chances of success were always slim to none. I understood that from the beginning. But someone had to try. I don't regret a bit of it.

I don't want you to die.

She just nodded.

I don't...

Corey there is something I need you to understand.

I know you love me.

No, not that. Lux sighed. I need you to understand that this was never about me.

He turns to her, mystified. I don't understand.

It was always your story. Always. She pauses a bit before proceeding. You know how in every epic story, there's always some sagacious character to show the real hero the way? That's what I was for you.

That's not true.

But it is. This story is yours. Everybody thought it was mine, but it's not. It was ALWAYS about YOU. And look... her fingers go to his chin to get him to face her directly. It's going to get worse before it gets better. It was always does. But you are so, so much greater than all of this terribleness that's coming. Do you understand me? You will weather it, and you will beat it and you will grow into a beautiful guiding light. I need you to believe this. Corey?

The boy nods numbly. I'm sorry I didn't feel the same way about you that you felt about me.

It doesn't matter. You're the only thing that matters now. You're going to go on. You're going to be the one to beat this. I believe in you. I lo-

Lux is violently pulled up and away, her fingers leaving his face as she is snatched up and through the bars of the cell and dragged into the limitless darkness about them. Corey yells and reaches for her, watching as her body recedes into an infinitesimal speck before its gone completely. With an anguished scream, he folds in on himself, pulling his knees in close to his chest and hugging them there, never feeling more alone in his life.

Elsewhere....

The clamp disappears into the parted flesh of Corey Smith's neck beneath the unrelenting light of the surgical lamps. The masked doctor holding the clamp grimaces a bit as he works the device around inside the incision. A dribble of crimson spills out and onto the bright white of the linens beneath. After a modicum more work, the clamp is extricated from the incision, and inside it's teeth is a small gray disk covered in blood. Lights blink in and out intermittently on it in a flowing pattern, arcing from one end of the device to the other like a gentle lapping wave. The doctor holds it aloft, looking at is as though mesmerized. He lifts his surgical shield up to take it in as Madison Dyson and Shane approach, each wearing surgical scrubs.

To think.... The doctor begins, sounding enrapt. ...an entire essence of a human being contained in this little device. An entire woman's hopes and dreams and aspirations. Her past and present and future. Everything she ever loved and lost.....

So that's Lux? Madison asks dismissively, pointing at it like she's pointing at a dead rodent ensnared in a trap.

Erm...yes.

Shane eyes the small device appraisingly. So what's a fitting exit for this great warrior, huh? What are we thinking here people? Viking funeral pyre? Balinese cremation? Or....uhhhh....what the fuck do you call it....? He starts snapping his fingers before exclaiming, SKY BURIAL! Leave it on a mountain top and let the buzzards pick at it!

Quite abruptly, Madison snatches Lux out of the doctor's hand, pitches it at the floor and starts to stomp on it. Gritting her teeth together and letting out a savage bark with each stomp, she plants all of her rage into each kick until the unit lies in pieces. A silence descends on the room after it's done, save for Madison's labored breath. Finally, with a shrug Shane intones, Or we could just stomp the shit out of it.

FUCK YOU BITCH I KILLED YOU AGAIN! I WIN! I WIN! Madison unceremoniously kicks the largest piece, sending it skittering against the wall. DEAD CUNT!

Shane comes up behind Madison and starts to massage her shoulders. Feel better?

Immeasurably.

Back within....

Corey looks on in dead eyed horror as Madison crushes Lux's housing unit from within the prison in his mind. But then, from that horror, a wellspring of rage starts to bubble up from within him. He smashes his fist down into the floor of the cell, pushing himself to a kneeling position.

Bang!

Another blow from his fist.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Corey screams. A primal, resonant, terrible thing. Something from deeper within himself than he even knew existed. He dredges it up and pushes it out of him, a spiritual corona of destructive force. And with that, the cage he is in disintegrates and Corey finds himself plunging through the blackness, falling endlessly. But oddly, he does not feel fear, for he knows there is no true place to land, no endpoint, no tangible destination.

Nonetheless, the environs begin to twist and warp around him, and for lack of a better term, the silky blackness seems to begin to burn at the edges. The unnatural fire consuming inwards until meeting Corey as he plummets. But instead of consuming him, it forms a tunnel about him, a raging cyclone carrying him along in its fury. It occurs to him that this is likely what the passage to hell feels like.

And then, looking downwards, the end of the tunnel of fire approaches, becoming an ever widening gyre until Corey falls out the bottom of it, and into the midst of a world on fire.



And instantly he knows that this is what Lux saw. Where she lived. The world she came from.

The end.

Hello again.

The boy whipped around at the sound of his own voice. And there he was. Him, but not him. His body, but twisted and warped into a harbinger. Two brilliant wings of polished steel hung over each of the figure's shoulders. He was completely nude, monsters had no need for modesty it would seem. The veins buried in his flesh pulsed with a black ichor, their outlines making him look like a fleshy puzzle with the pieces not yet firmly interlocked. Come here. The Engineer purred, holding his arms open like an expectant lover.

Corey approached, and he relished in the beast's smug half smile, drinking in his surprise when Corey's slow approach turned into a run, and then a cocked fist rocking the monster's head back. The Engineer stumbled, and in so doing abandoned the form of his future self. Dismay briefly dotted his features before his face warped again, growing withered and pallid and demonic. He returned fire at Corey with a vengeful cry.



You don't scare me! Tamping down his fear, Corey lunged for the Engineer again, taking another wild swing, but this time his opponent was ready, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him into his arms. Corey struggled against The Engineer's grip, but couldn't find any purchase. Then, an odd feeling overcame him, and Corey realized that not only was he not making progress getting away from The Engineer, but that he was being drawn INTO him. With a pang of anxiety, he came to understand that he was being swallowed whole.

Arms wrapped around the small of Corey's back, The Engineer cooed in his ear. It's time, little bird.

No... Corey mouthed, unable to inject more than a whisper into his tone. He fought one arm up onto The Engineer's shoulder and tried to push up and away, but his abdomen was merging with the monster's own body, flesh stitching to flesh. Crying out in horror but determined to rally, the boy got his other arm free.

Stop it!

Fighting with the only thing he could, he brought his face into The Engineer's, headbutting him full on. He did it again, and again until The Engineer was forced to release him. Corey pulled away, feeling his flesh rip and tear under the strain. With a final pull and an anguished scream he freed himself, dropping to the steaming street. Corey's hands instantly went to his abdomen to assess his wounds, but he found none there.

The Engineer glowered at the boy, his expression caught between rivaling feelings of anger and disbelief and...and...fear. The beast tried to hide the latter, face quivering and reforming into the smug countenance from earlier, but the damage was already done.

And Corey Smith started to laugh.

You think this is funny?!

You're not strong enough! The boy chuckled bitterly. You're not strong enough!

Silence!

But the indignation only fueled Corey's mocking laughter. You're so WEAK! You can't get rid of me, can you? CAN YOU?! Then, throwing a fist in the air, he called the flames from the surrounding buildings to him. He didn't understand how, running on pure instinct. The fire came to him then, a purifying conflagration that he directed at The Engineer.

The Engineer ducked, throwing an arm up as the flames washed over him and he was aghast to find that he could feel the heat and the bite from the assault. Ducking and rolling, he willed his steel wings to explode from his back to protect him from the fire, covering himself in them and triggering an arc of deadly steel feathers to blossom forth from them. Corey didn't see the deadly projectiles coming until it was too late. One passed through his hip, spinning him about from the force of it's impact followed by another thudding deep into his back. Collapsing to his knees, the boy gasped in agony.

Wasting no time, The Engineer took to the sky, borne aloft by his wings before bringing himself crashing back down on top of Corey, planting a foot right in the wound in his back, pushing the steel feather further in. Corey screamed again and a flush of blood exploded past his lips.

It's over. Stop fighting.

Reaching down, he picks Corey up by his throat. But, to his astonishment, the boy remains defiant. Choking through the blood, he dares to laugh again. You can't kill me. You can't have me. He coughs. You're stuck with me, aren't you?

I am not. I just need to make you sleep.

You can't kill me! You can't! HAHAHAHAHA! Corey's voice descends into maniacal laughter.

The monster's lip curls up in irritation, but the young man's insane tittering strikes a chord inside him, landing deep behind his pretense of invulnerability. SLEEP! Opening his mouth, a gout of black ichor shoots out and lands in Corey's own mouth. The boy recoils, disgusted, but then resumes his unnerving laugh. Is that.....hahahahahaha....all....

Corey's head lolls.

Sleep.

….all you got....

Sleep.

His eyes flutter.

….I'll kill you.....

Finally, mercifully, Corey's eyes close. His body goes limp in The Engineer's grip and the virus releases a pent up breath he wasn't aware he had been retaining. Dropping the boy, The Engineer's face tics perceptibly as Corey's parting words root about in his mind's eye.

I'll kill you.

The Engineer growls.

I'll kill you.

With a casual flick of the wrist, he changes the scene again, extinguishing the flames roaring about them and turning the city into a darkened, hollowed out graveyard. Then, the ground beneath Corey's body starts to shift and mold, lurching up as though liquid and raising Corey up into the sky. The formation swallows the boy up as it rises, filling out into the shape of a twisted blackened tower.



The Engineer considers this prison, and judges it sufficient. Then, turning his back to it, he steps into....

....The Real.

The Engineer is born into the world. His eyes flutter open, revealing the dimly lit hospital room he's laying in. Turning, he sees Madison Dyson sitting beside his bed. Her legs are folded primly, hands clasped in her lap. Patiently waiting.

Good morning, sunshine. A wicked grin appears. Ready to murder the world?

NOW

Steve Sayors shifts uncomfortably in his seat as an XWF technician affixes the microphone to his lapel. But it's not this well worn ritual that has him riddled with tension. No, that honor goes to the one sitting across from him. Steve's eyes journey across the way involuntarily again, and what he sees there summons something inside of him he's never quite felt before. Certainly, Steve has interviewed the worst of the worst. He's been threatened and assaulted.

But this? This was different. And it wasn't quite fear, but a sense that he was in the presence of something fundamentally unnatural. Because Steve has spoken with Lux and Corey. Interviewed them. Laughed with them. Enjoyed their company.

And whatever was in that body now wasn't them.

He couldn't even pinpoint how he knew that. It wasn't that he was simply taking The Engineer at his word that he was neither Lux or Corey, because in a promotion like the XWF taking anything at face value was an invitation to disaster. But somehow, watching this....thing....the way it moved, the way it smiled, the way it gently flirted with the attractive girl pinning his mic to that crimson suit jacket he was wearing, Steve knew without a shadow of a doubt that what The Engineer said was true. He HAD purged Lux and Corey from this body. Which left what exactly he was fundamentally in doubt.

Steve shuddered, and mentally tried to rally for the interview. With a nod from the producer, Steve waits for the familiar red light on the camera to blaze steady before setting in.

Greetings XWF universe, Steve Sayors here with the interview you've all been waiting for. I have with me XWF Universal Champion Lu- Steve stops, casting a glance at his guest...I'm sorry, I mean, The Engineer. He clears his throat. Apologies champ, it's....

The Engineer nods slightly. It's weird. I get it. There's going to be an adjustment period. I'm not going to beat you up over it, Steve.

Well, everyone wants to know, what exactly is going on with you? Who is The Engineer? And why did Lux need to go?

Lux was out of control. He answers confidently and without hesitation. As I said on Savage, she was threatening to kill people. She tried to kill both Shane and Unknown Soldier. It really was conduct very unbecoming of a champion.

That argument could certainly be made. Steve concedes the point, crossing one leg over the other and trying to give the appearance of comfort. Which makes it all the more baffling then that you would choose to ally yourself with some of the most toxic and destabilizing forces in the XWF....

What did I say on Savage, Steve? The young man cuts in abruptly.

Well, you said a number of things....

I did. And one of those things I said was that I believe in the XWF. Look, I'm not going to sit here and try to relitigate Shane 's past conduct. We all know the things he's done. The mistakes he's made. His aim is true now. Madison's also. We don't want to hurt the XWF. We're not here to retread that worn out fed destruction gimmick. We'll leave that to creatively bereft assholes like Chris Page.

So what ARE you here for?

Steve...he leans forward a bit....we're here to change literally everything else.

A pang in Steve's guts makes him shift in his seat again. I...I don't understand what that means...

It means, Steve, that we think the rest of the world needs to be more like the XWF. The Engineer suddenly claps his hands together and smiles with a semblance of warmth. But there is so, so much time left for us to expound on that. How about we stay eyes forward and tackle what's immediately in front of us, hmmm?

You mean Warfare?

I do.

Alrighty then. He clears his throat, aware that The Engineer was fully wresting control of the conversation from him with a practiced ease. Steve felt cowed at this knowledge, but not cowed enough to want to prolong his time sitting across from this thing. Lets talk about your opponents for this special holiday edition of Warfare. You're going to be in the ring with four randomly selected challengers.

Let's talk about Atara.

Again, that forceful commandeering of the conversation. Steve grimaced, ever so slightly, but continued. If you would like to start there, sure.

The Engineer sits back in the seat, and the smile he was wearing before changes in cadence a bit, becoming almost...sheepish? She's beautiful.

Steve nods, a bit awkwardly. She's a very pretty young woman.

No, no, no. Not “pretty”. Beautiful. “Pretty” is wholly inadequate. You know, I'm going to deviate from my manager, Madison Dyson's, thinking about this matter. Madison hates Atara, she feels that all she has to hang her hat on is her looks. And, there's almost this sense that being beautiful is something you should not be proud of. Right? I mean, it's just “winning the genetic lottery”. They didn't DO anything to be beautiful, they just got lucky. So beautiful people are expected to be humble or they're derided as shallow or vain. They're regarded as being bad people for being proud of something that had to exert no effort to achieve. But the simple fact is that true beauty is extraordinarily rare. It's why it's simultaneously prized and held in so much contempt.

But consider this, do we hold a double rainbow to those standards? I mean, it's rare, and it's beautiful. But it's UNIVERSALLY appreciated for those qualities. So why should it be any different for human beings? Why must we carry so much petty, jealous animus for beautiful people? Why must we force them to comport to this humble ideal?

Steve looks taken aback. I...I guess I don't know....?

Right. And all I'm saying is that we should hold all forms of natural beauty to the same standards.

So, if I'm following this, you're saying that it should be ok for a person to JUST be beautiful?

Precisely. Beauty is enough. He then looks right at the camera. Beauty is ENOUGH, Atara. And I want you to know that I understand and appreciate that. Now, this doesn't mean I'm giving you a pass at Warfare. I intend to keep my championship. But what it DOES mean is that you have a future with me and with my movement after all is said and done. If you want it.

Your “movement”?

Who's next, Steve?

Steve cocks his head, a gentle trickle of animus billowing up now. Actually, I'd like to hear more about this “movement”.

No. Next. The young man's face instantly goes stolid and impassive, voice commanding but serene.

Very well. Mastermind.

No.

Steve looks at the champion curiously. “No”?

I'm supposed to address everyone right? That's the rule? He shakes his head. No.

Why not?

Mastermind does not interest me. He speaks the words with finality. His eyes lock on Steve's, issuing him a laughing challenge that goes unspoken.

Then maybe we can talk about Jessalyn Hart?

Maybe we can. The champion drums his fingers on his lap. An accomplished young woman in her own right, no? She's held a smattering of championships, if I'm correct?

Yes, she's a former tag and Xtreme champion.

But what has she done LATELY? Not much, to my understanding. This sport, it's a game of momentum, right? It's about inertia. But the girl doesn't have any. And yet she finds herself jumping the line in front of so many others who had a stronger wind at their back. Who laid so much more of a claim to what I hold than she does. Now she might think that the reason she is here is because fate somehow smiled on her? That divine providence is her cheering section, ushering her on to great things.

But I don't believe in those things, Steve. Fate is an illusion. Destiny is a farce. And the only thing that brought her to this moment in time is chaos. Meaningless chance. Nothing more than a dullard's smooth hand picking out a slip of paper. And I get the appeal, I do! Because if good things are granted to us because fate has a purpose for us, that makes each one of us special. Preordained. But nothing is preordained and there is nothing special about Jessalyn. There is nothing special in store for Jessalyn. Just me breaking her down and reminding her of her mediocrity.

So I take it you don't have a place for her like you do for Atara?

Of course not. She's not a double rainbow. He chuckles, but it's mirthless. Seth Feder is left?

He is.

Seth. He speaks the name like a whispered oath. My....my...it's funny how things come full circle. This isn't your first time squaring off with an Engineer is it? No, you met my predecessor in the King of the Ring finals over two years ago! You lost. But even still, you might just prove to be an interesting premise yet. And, in a strange way, similar to Atara. Because you too are the benefit of a largesse that is utterly outside your control. I speak, of course, of the fact that you are evidently Vincent Lane's bastard.

Oh, it's not quite beauty, but it does the trick, doesn't it? Getting you slotted into the King of the Ring as a last minute substitute because of your relationship with the man. And now, despite doing absolutely nothing for the better part of two years, obtaining a prime spot on an episode of Warfare where you were guaranteed a championship opportunity! Now some would be tempted to scream “nepotism”. They would pout and virtue signal and proudly wave those moral compasses about (always pointing true north, of course). But not me. Because much like Atara, you needn't feel ashamed for the bounty you were born with. In a roundabout way, you won the genetic lottery too! So I will be the very last person complaining about your relationship with management. Bully for you! Truly! Let's jam a thumb in the eye of all those dull moralizers and raise a glass to familial favoritism. He mimes raising a glass. Unfortunately, it won't help you WIN. Because if you were unable to beat the last Engineer, there is simply no way you're getting past me. A touch of menace creeps into his voice.

You see Seth, some people may be quick to label me a simple aper. I will no doubt suffer the slings an arrows of many a performer who will accuse me of trying to coast on the notoriety of Dexter Bright. But what you all need to understand is that The Engineer is not a name given to any one man. It is a TITLE. It is EARNED. And Dexter Bright was ultimately unworthy of that title. But I am a whole different animal. A much more dangerous one. And if you couldn't even get past an unworthy Engineer, then just what the hell makes you think you're ready for the real thing?

The champion smirks knowingly, and goes quiet. Steve, caught off guard, looks at the camera, and then back at The Engineer. Are you done then?

Yes. He looks at Steve. And on a personal note, I'd like to thank you very much for your time and your professionalism.

Um, sure. Yeah. You're welcome. He suppresses a shudder underneath the onslaught of that vaguely inhuman gaze. Steve starts to signal for the feed to be cut, but before he can finish, the shot abruptly transitions to.....