"Alright, Christopher... let's begin this tête-à-tête, shall we?"


"Now, I'm going to start this by saying, right off the bat, I know that I lost to your girlfriend, last week. Granted she didn't pin me but I'm not going to take the pussy, cop out, excuse that most tend to go with and say that because she didn't pin me, it doesn't count as her beating me. That's fucking and beyond ignorant. Jenny Myst pinned Cate, my teammate for the match, therefore the team as a whole took the loss. I took a loss that night. I won't deny it but at the same time, I won't say that it enchants me with some irreversible curse either. Nor does it set in stone a prewritten fate for me, that I'm destined to face, for all eternity. I haven't become forever tainted. What occurred last week, has no bearing on this week. Though I doubt you'll agree."


"No, I'm quite certain that you will have the same outlook upon the situation, as you and your girlfriend, usually always do. It is slightly creepy, how you both string the same, indistinguishable rationale and reasoning together, along with your similar, routine, concordant remarks. It's almost like the two of you are slowly becoming the same person. Before you know it, people won't be able to tell where you stop, and she begins. You'll be melded together so tight, you'll probably fuse and stay that way forever, as one singular entity. My Chaos. That's what you should call yourself, when that happens and it will happen, I can already see the signs. Disturbing as they may be, they are real and definitely there. Anyway, as I was saying, much like your hive mind girlfriend, I doubt you'll agree with my outlook but that's alright, you don't have to. Convincing you to believe me, isn't a priority."


"I'm certain you will mention that I haven't done anything of value, since my return and bring up how I lost every important match. I do wield more losses than wins currently, with the tally being 5 wins and 6 losses, but I also had a string of incredible fights, that you most assuredly would have lost too. In fact, one of my losses is yours as well. Neither of us took home the briefcase at Leap Of Faith. That's fine. For me anyway. I don't let prizes and trinkets define me, even though I've already held, almost every title. I existed in an era, when there wasn't a restriction on the number of titles that you could wield, so I know what it's like to be double and even triple champion too. Now, before you get your jimmies in a rustle, allow me to clarify that mentioning this, isn't an indication that I returned to the XWF to reclaim anything from my past. I'm not trying to relive glory days or do anything at all really, accept participate in some fights. For my own entertainment. That's literally all I ever joined the XWF for in the first place. There has never been a moment in my career, past or present, when I sat there and decided to make it my goal to impress the masses, by the amount of trinkets that I could collect. You know what, it's still not my main agenda. Or any agenda, for that matter. I don't care how others perceive me, I'm not here for anyone else except myself and I'm doing exactly what I want to do, as always. You can call me a failure, all you like. Ridicule my return, berate me all you want, I promise you though, you're only wasting your breath because your words won't affect me in the slightest. For they don't carry weight. Not as far as I'm concerned."


"There is one matter I'd like to address though. Your girlfriend said she was going to put an end to me. She mentioned that people won't only remember my death, they'll celebrate it. Was that meant to be in a long term, type of scenario, like eventually she's going to do that or did she plan on doing that in our fight last week? Because as you can see, I'm still here as I said that I would be. Perfectly fine, without even a scratch on me. In fact, whatever injuries I did sustain, that night... well, they were healed before I left the arena. The perks of having a healing factor and the power to regenerate come in handy. Anyway, I'm guessing that you'll make those same promises that she did. Those wild and outlandish threats, that few actually follow through with."


"See, I can make crazy, madcap, off the wall statements and actually deliver the results. For instance, I could increase the gravity and density high enough; around only you, to quite literally, crush you into the canvas. I could turn the canvas into quicksand and watch you sink into it. Or lower gravity and send you floating up into the rafters. Maybe even go really nuts and freeze time, then I could do whatever I want to you and no one would ever know. Not even you. You'd merely wonder how and why? How did I get over here and why is this popcorn vendor's fist inside my asshole? Oh that feels kind of good actually. Better look shocked in case my master is watching me. I imagine that's pretty much how your thought process will go if that happened. Anyway, I'm certain that conventional thought and mainstream reasoning, taught you that what I'm saying could never be a real thing. It's easier and far less scary to believe that I'm lying, than it is to accept that I might be telling the truth."


"Your new 'friend' Nathaniel, knows the veracity of my words. How is that alliance going between the two of you? Has he brought you to his secret compound yet? Did he show you the blue prints for the weapons? Have you seen the gas chambers? What about the army of enhanced super soldiers, that are currently in 'sleep' mode, awaiting the epic moment of truth? Oh and here's the best question of them all, has he gotten inside your head yet and convinced you that his way, is the right way? And if so, did you sign on to fund any of his work or research? I bet you did. It's cool, he's quite the manipulator when he needs to be, it's only a shame that in the end, he's definitely still going to kill you. Without a doubt. If his plans go accordingly, you are as good as dead. Eh, by the time that happens, you'll have had a good run though, right?"

---

On the outside, Griffin MacAlister was a sarcastic, stoner with an ear for punk and a deep fondness for kicking ass. He was a mechanic and on occasion, he wrestled for the XWF. Beneath all that though, there was a darkness. The type that existed within killers. Cold and relentless. He hid it well but Azrael has always been able to detect it. Initially, the spaceman was simply on edge around him. Azrael knew that Griffin had a secret. That there must be a reason, why the man wore a mask, so well. At first, he merely took it as part of the armor that the run of the mill, shady criminal type, might wear. However, the more he came in contact with Griffin, the more it distinctly became obvious, that the part of himself that he kept hidden from the majority of the world, was far from your typical, average drug dealer or thug. There was a calm, calculated way about his mannerisms. Something that the untrained mind and eye, wouldn't ordinarily pick up on. To most Griffin MacAlister, was an open book and that book didn't hold much in the form of content but to an observant, watcher and traveler, it was glaringly, blatant that this was nothing more than an act. Put on for the simple purpose of distraction. For if one was paying attention to the antics of the mechanic, he could freely move with ease and commit any deed that he wanted to, when the real Griffin came out to play. That is not to say Griffin wasn't a skilled mechanic who enjoyed the trade, it was just clear that wasn't all there was to him, and that he used the skill to enhance his cover, in order to lower suspicions and grant himself the ability, to freely move under the radar without detection. Understanding this fact, immediately placed Azrael on high alert. The was something wrong with this man. He was bad news and most likely capable of terrible things. Azrael didn't like to be on constant alert like that whenever Griffin was around, always ready and prepared for whatever might happen. Which quickly transferred to a strong and immense hate for Griffin MacAlister.


Then Azrael learned the truth. Now, he was doing all he could to save, Griffin MacAlister. So that he could have a chance at a normal life. Whatever type of normal life that a living weapon could hope to have. The weirdest aspect of all was the fact that even after this was all done and over with, Griffin would still remain in the forefront of Azrael's life because he was in a relationship with Azrael's daughter, Lila Laroque. If things remained on good terms with them, Azrael could even be facing a reality, where Lila and Griffin got married. Potentially, Griffin Macalister could wind up, becoming Azrael's son-in-law. Imagine that. Oh, how so much has changed, since their very first encounter. When Griffin was simply known as the wise cracking, pot enthusiast and Azrael was called Mr. Satellite - a man of mystery, save for the fact that he couldn't speak without the aid of a robot, had one arm and was capable of doing marvelous feats of wonder. It seemed like that was a million years ago. Now, Azrael was Griffin's only hope and the spaceman, willingly accepted the task without hesitation. Without too much hesitation. The point was this, Azrael was on the case and he would do all that he could to help. Which led to the phone call that he received from the morgue.


"Are you certain?"


Azrael asked, his tone far more serious and matter-of-fact, than usual. Nodding softly to himself as he listened to the words that were being relayed to him over his phone, he leaned his back against the wall in his kitchen. His friend Zane Norrison, was lead coroner at Our Lady of Potential Sorrow, the closest hospital and morgue that sat between the radius of Azrael's tower and Griffin Macalister's last known location, as far as The Order were concerned. Since Azrael's tower was basically off the grid, when it came to tracking devices and he made sure to not only disable but also remove, such devices from Griffin's brain, The Order only had whatever information that was revealed to them, before Griffin entered Azrael's abode. Making it difficult, for them to locate Griffin, in order to find out the reason why his implants went offline. This placed them in a position where they needed to send out a search team, in order to recover Griffin. The first assumption would be that Griffin was dead. Meaning they needed to locate Griffin's body, which lead them to Zane and ultimately to Azrael. Because as soon as these suspicious individuals came in contact with Zane and started asking questions about locating someone that matched Griffin's description, Zane excused himself momentarily and made the call to Azrael, alerting him to the situation. One may wonder, why would this coroner take such a risk, for a friend? Alas, that is a tale for another day. Just know, Zane Norrison; like a long list of others, owed Azrael a favor.


"Can you do anything to stall them there for a bit?"


Azrael asked as he ran a hand back through his hair.


"Perfect. We'll be there shortly then."


A look of determination entered Azrael's eyes as he pushed himself away from the wall. He was ready for what had to happen next.


"Oh and Zane, thank you. I truly appreciate this my friend and I don't care what that group of frightened med-school students said, you are not a monster, you're a fucking rockstar. See you soon."


Hanging up the phone, Azrael exited his kitchen and went to find Griffin. He found Griffin on the balcony, looking out at the city as he smoked a cigarette. Deep in thought, Griffin was clearly readying himself for the worst. The man that the world used to see as so carefree and yet, underneath it all, he was about as complex as they came. Strange how what once set Azrael's senses to detect a threat, now almost made him feel a connection to the mechanic. They weren't really that different, the mechanic and the spaceman. Both born of contrastive backgrounds, they still managed to share a common ground in darkness. They both knew loss and what it was like to hide in the shadows, how to survive, to fight and to walk through fire. And they both carried the burden of a past, that's weight could never be truly lifted. Men like them would never know peace. Not completely. It was the price they paid, for being men like them. An invisible contract as solid and binding as it would be if it were for their very souls. The only solace Azrael could take from this is that maybe, he could grant Griffin the gift of a fresh start. A brand new life. One free of chaos and torment. Perhaps, there was still hope for this mechanic, in that prospect of a rebirth of sorts.


"It's time."


Azrael stated, watching while Griffin nodded in affirmation as he took a drag from his cigarette and tossed it over the ledge of the balcony. It was time and there was no turning back now. What happened next would change everything.

2x Universal Champion (First reign was less than a day though, lol. Due to Sebastian Duke cashing in his briefcase.)
2x Tag Team Champion
3x Triple Tag Team Champion
1x Television Champion
2x US Champion (Title retired during my second reign as champ.)
2x X-Treme Champion
1x Bombshell Champion
2x HMW Champion
2x SOTM