The chaotic sounds of boarding echoed through the airline cabin as passengers shuffled into their seats, finding their designated spots amidst the organized chaos.

Sarah, a young woman with an insatiable curiosity that frequently led her down intriguing paths, joined the other travelers.

Today promised to be no ordinary journey.

As Sarah glanced down the aisle, she noticed a man making his way towards her row.

There was something peculiar about him, a subtle strangeness that set her on edge.

She couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Perhaps his unnaturally pale complexion or the unsettling stillness in his movements.

The man took the seat directly across from Sarah, his piercing gaze meeting hers for a fleeting moment.

She quickly averted her eyes, attempting to appear disinterested. 

Nevertheless, her senses were on high alert, and she couldn't resist stealing occasional glances in his direction.

With each passing minute, her unease grew.

The man seemed to radiate an otherworldly energy, something she couldn't fully comprehend.

Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Sarah decided to strike up a conversation. She hoped that engaging him in dialogue would alleviate her growing apprehensions.

Besides, distraction was always welcome during a long flight.

"Hi there," Sarah said, mustering a friendly smile. "Traveling alone?"

The man turned towards her, his gaze intense yet enigmatic. "Yesss, I am."

Sarah nodded, her heart racing.

Something about his response only deepened her suspicions.

As they continued talking, the man skillfully avoided sharing personal details, redirecting the conversation towards abstract topics and philosophical musings.

It was as if he was intentionally keeping her at arm's length.

As the minutes ticked by, Sarah's nerves began to fray. She couldn't shake the feeling that the man was toying with her, purposely keeping her off balance.

Just as she was about to dismiss her irrational fears, something inexplicable occurred.

With a sudden, deliberate motion, the man blinked his eyes, revealing a second set of translucent eyelids that resembled those of a reptile.

Sarah wasn't a conspiracy nut, but the sight was jarring, defying all logic and rationality.

Sarah's mind reeled, and panic consumed her over what she had just seen.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Sarah leaped from her seat, screaming in terror.

The entire cabin fell into disarray as passengers turned their attention towards her.

Flight attendants rushed to her side, attempting to calm her down while the man across from her sat, an eerie calmness and someone began to record.

---

"They call me vile, they call me a relic of a forgotten era, but deep down, they know the truth."

Graves stood by the moonlit window, his eyes fixed upon the glowing orb in the night sky, lost in its mesmerizing beauty.

"They lust for my venomous presence, my lothesome embrace of all that is wicked."

"Flynn says it like it's a bad thing, but I am the embodiment of everything that goes against this politically correct era of programming. I am the last bastion of nonconformity, a reminder of the harsh reality this world hides behind it's sanitized filters."

"You think you can save anyone, Flynn? You think you can create something better here?"

Graves slowly turns away from the window, his silhouette now facing the camera.

"The only man to retain the X-Title through War Games!"

"The only man to beat eleventy Uni Champs in a single week!"

"The only man to wrestle a three hour bout on a boat while playing a round of mini-golf!"

"And most importantly, the only man to chew talent up, and spit them out worse for ware!"

"I KNOW that I'm not the better wrestler than you Mark Flynn! You're wasting your damned words connecting all the same dots! Tell'em something they don't know!"

"Take this for example: I've already won!"

"Oh my! I can hear Mark scoffing from here!"

"Hear. Me. Out."

Graves pivots, his back now turned to the camera once more, his gaze locked onto the moon with an intense focus.

"Let me tell you, in the past, I've ferociously denounced The Optimal Path as a sham, a complete fabrication. I didn't hold back when I claimed that you peddled nothing but a worthless product, and I meant every word."

"However, I must admit that my own journey on the Optimal Path wasn't entirely in vain. It led me down a desolate path of self-destruction, much like the fate suffered by THE Jessica Anderson and every other fool who fell prey to your deceitful wares."

"But you know what? In that very moment, taking the coward's way out and fading into the shadows, disappearing like Jess, never to show my pathetic face again, would be the easy way out, and Gravy ain't accustomed to easy."

"Imagine, being lured in like a mindless sheep, your hopes reaching delusional heights, believing that you were on the verge of your career's apex: the triumphant conquest of EX-X, but really, PG-WF and the glorious resurgence of THE XWF and all of it's social depravity!"

"Ah, how I long for home..."

"And as such, how bitterly I watched as those hopes would soon come to and end were mercilessly crushed, obliterated into dust. I found myself instead reduced to a mere pawn, just another cog in the grand deception that was the Optimal Path: a treacherous road paved exclusively for Mark Flynn."

"Bullet-Brain: Hello old friend... Except I'm not a pussy bitch like some of those scrubs you vanished! What I did was a step up from that shit! I changed my sex and became a robot!"

"Not the most impressive move, but I suppose I'm not the most impressive guy, huh?"

"Listen closely, Mark, the Optimal Path that you championed? It was nothing more than a hollow charade, a facade built on a foundation of deceit. You've since admitted as much, but even within its twisted nature, it served a purpose, albeit one reserved for those with the strength to confront their true selves."

"You see, Mark, only those who possess the audacity to face their own reflection and embrace the raw anger it incites can truly understand the power of your Optimal Path. It is in that moment of revelation that one can confront the harsh realities about themselves, stripped of pretense and illusions, and find their own path to glory."

"You see, the Optimal Path forced me into an unwanted realm of self-reflection. But the rage that filled my every being over what I saw compelled me to dig deep, scrutinize my own abilities as a wrestler."

"And what did I discover, you ask? I came to the realization that I am not a good wrestler at all."

"Like, literally the drizzling shits!"

"I ain't a jobber, and I don't suck!"

"That thing with Lane was a one off! Cadryan too!"

"Just track the check record! I've fucked around with plenty of ladies! Me and Mrs. Raven used to be real tight! WEEKLY MEETUPS BEHIND FUZZ's BACK! I had a wife too! She wasn't real, but I dreamt up a women and not a man, so totally not gay, I just have gay tendencies!"

"And while I may have losing tendencies in the ring, that doesn't mean that I can't kick your ass, if the conditions are right!"

"Remember, I have big meathooks and a Hell of a chin."

"But how do these things help me against Mark Flynn? A man who will tie me into a pretzel and beat me with my own arms if I get within reach?"

"X-Treme Rulez, of course! Why learn a Hammerlock when you can just use the fucking hammer!? Flynn won't let me in close? I'll throw the fucking thing at him! Point - Gravy!"

"But, the match type being in my favor isn't enough to ensure my victory! After all, that damned triple threat with Dolly was X-Treme Rules as well, and Flynn outsmarted me with a fucking magnet!"

"Oh! But that's it!"

"Out...Smart..."

"Can Gravy out smark Flynn?"

"Well, Marky-Mark made me realize that I'm a dummy, yet I managed to outsmart him twice! Must make him a stupid !"

Graves slowly turns away from the window, a sinister smile spreading across his face. With a calculated and deliberate movement, he leans in close to the camera lens, his voice dripping with venomous confidence.

"A cancer, you say? A tumor? Oh, how poetic, Mark Flynn. You paint a vivid picture of your disdain for me, the embodiment of everything you claim to despise. But let me remind you, my delusional adversary, not only are you closer to me than PG-nerds like Ned, but on top of that, it was YOU who re-spawned this monster with your Optimal bullshitery."

A sinister grin spreads across Graves' face as he continues.

"You speak of an era buried, of shock value over entertainment. But what you fail to realize is that I am not just the lingering reminder, but also the festering wound that refuses to heal. I am the embodiment of the raw, unfiltered chaos that once gripped this industry. And while I failed at taking over the Universe, whether you like it or not, I returned to reign X-Treme!"

"Lilabeth, the sweet little girl who found solace in wrestling, stuck with fucking Thunder Knuckles as a sponsor, pawned off to me, and finally, caught in the crossfire of our twisted dance. A casualty of war, a casualty of your own shortcomings. But make no mistake, Mark, I did not pull the trigger."

"I simply set the stage, and you, the so-called 'good guy,' played your part flawlessly."

"You claim you can fix this, that you can save everyone. How noble of you, Mark. But let me shatter your delusions once again. You cannot save anyone, not yourself, and especially not MY X-Treme Championship!"

A sadistic grin twists across Graves' masked face. 

"This pawn has traveled the board and become King! I mean Queen! Er... Well, how about BOTH! Now it's YOU who are nothing more than a pawn in MY twisted game, a puppet dancing to the tune of my malevolence. And oh, how I delight in pulling the strings! PTSD is a Hell of a mind-fuck! You may think you're fine, them BOOM!"

"Ha! Trigger!"

"Should you retrieve it in the first place, could you even press the detonator a second time!?"

"Here, give it a go Mark! Show us what you're made of! Show us that YOU'RE THE BEST WRESTLER ALIVE!"
























"Did ya do it!?"

"Mark?"

"MARRRRRRK?"

---

Graves had been waiting impatiently in a public park, his frustration mounting with each passing minute. 

The meeting with the representative of the Reptilian High Council was set to take place there, amidst the cheerful laughter and playful ambiance of the park. 

Gravy knew that this was the perfect spot to conduct business because these reptile fuckers just loved to do this shit right in front of the blind sheep.

As he paced back and forth near the jungle gym, his eyes fixated on one of the captive children who was engrossed in play, oblivious to the sinister world swirling around them.

Graves couldn't help but feel the weight of disappointment pressing upon him. 

The child's innocent laughter was in stark contrast to the seething anger that coursed through his veins. 

He had envisioned this meeting as the turning point, the moment he could trade the lives of these children for a powerful lost technology, the very invention that once brought Gravy's Universe crashing down. It was Flynn's creation, allowing him to gain an unfair advantage by learning every secret and strategy of his opponents before stepping foot into the wrestling ring.

But the representative was nowhere to be found, leaving Graves stewing in a mix of fury and frustration. 

The minutes stretched into an eternity, and with each passing second, his hope for a successful exchange dwindled.

The child on the jungle gym continued their innocent play, unaware of the dark bargain that was meant to unfold.

Yet, the representative's continued absence fueled Graves rage, and as the minutes turned into hours, doubts began to gnaw at his fragile conspiracy-ridden mind.

Finally, about three hours in, Graves reached for his cell phone. With trembling fingers, fueled by anger and frustration, he dialed the secret number, his voice dripping with venomous words and curses aimed at the absent representative. 

A busy signal. 

The reptilian beings had abandoned him!?! 

Unable to contain his rage any longer, Graves unleashed a primal scream, a howl of anger and disappointment that shot through the park. 

Gripping his cell phone tightly, he slammed it against the ground with force. The device shattered into countless pieces, mirroring the brokenness of Graves' aspirations.

As the shattered fragments of his anger lay scattered at his feet, Graves stood there.

The child on the jungle gym looked up, their innocent gaze meeting his furious eyes. 

In that moment, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for involving an innocent life in his dark dealings.

But just then, a mother's curiosity turned to genuine concern. 

She mustered the courage to approach him, her heart pounding. Her young son, innocently playing nearby, glanced up, sensing the tension between the two adults.


With a polite smile, the mother inquired, "Excuse me, sir. I noticed you've been standing here for a while. Is one of these children yours?"

Graves turned his masked face towards the woman, his eyes hidden behind the intimidating skull design and globs of black paint. He pointed towards the young girl energetically climbing on the jungle gym. "That one's mine," he replied in a low, gravelly voice that sent shivers down the mother's spine.

The woman's unease deepened as she took in Graves' appearance. Gathering her courage, she cautiously asked, "What's with your costume? It's quite... different."

Graves, misunderstanding her question, tilted his head in confusion beneath the mask. "Costume?" he echoed, his voice carrying an air of intrigue. "No, this isn't a fucking costume! This is who I am! The embodiment of darkness! I'm the Goddamned Dark Warrior! AND I DON'T LIKE FEELING THINGS!!!"

The woman's discomfort grew, her instincts telling her to retreat from the eerie stranger. 

Just as she was about to make her escape, Graves suddenly reached into his pocket with a gloved hand, producing a small remote-like device. With a malevolent grin, he pressed a button on the device, triggering a chain of events that sent shockwaves through the park.

The small child that Graves had brought to the park sat atop the jungle gym unsuspectingly as she suddenly exploded with a loud bang, sending chunky remnants flying through the air as all of the surrounding children became instantly drenched. 

The unsuspecting woman gasped and ran to her son, clutching him tightly as fear and panic overtook her.

The park erupted into chaos as bystanders screamed and scattered, startled by the unexpected detonation. The mother, visibly shaken, cast a horrified gaze at Graves.

Graves reveled in the havoc he had wrought, his eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. He leaned closer to the woman, his voice a menacing whisper. 

"I don't need the fucking Reptiles or some dumb Flynn-o invention! I've already got the edge! I'm a monster and he's just a Bad Man! Weak! Emotional! Bitch! He second guesses killing NK! He let's little Lilabeth fuck him up! I found Mark's weak spot! I've hit it hard! I'll hit it even harder next time!"

The woman, her voice trembling, managed to stammer, "W-What kind of sick game are you playing? This... this is not right!"

Graves, relishing the woman's distress, chuckled darkly beneath his mask.

"Who gives a fuck about right or wrong!? I got one fucking goal in life: Make Gravy happy! And while Mark Flynn once convinced himself that he could fuck over anyone to get what he wanted, we now see the true limits of his sociopathy! Well, Mark, MINE have no limits!"

With an air of twisted satisfaction, Graves reveled in the chaos he had caused as he strolled out of the park whistling a cheerful tune.

---

What about that woman on the flight before? 


Was she crazy, drunk, drugged, or onto Gravy's reptile friend who missed the party?

Whatever the case, she seems to be missing now...

---

Graves, surrounded by his captive children in the dimly lit basement, prepared to carry out his diabolical plan-B.

He held a set of C4 collars in his hands, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

The children, their faces marked with fear and desperation, trembled in their restraints, fully aware of the imminent danger they were in.

"Now, my dear kiddies," Graves began, his voice laced with a sadistic glee, "you're about to become intimately acquainted with the concept of sacrifice. You see, these collars I hold in my hands are not just ordinary restraints. They are linked to the same frequency as the collar that rests around my own neck come Saturday night."

As he spoke, Graves approached each child, securing a collar around their trembling necks. The sound of metal clasping echoed through the room, accompanied by the children's fearful whimpers.

"These collars are programmed to detonate simultaneously if the frequency linked to my collar is disrupted. And guess who has the power to disrupt that frequency? None other than GOOD GUY, Mark Flynn himself!"

A mixture of horror and realization washed over the children's faces as Graves' words sank in.

"If Flynn attempts to trigger my collar," Graves sneered, "the consequence will be the same for all of us. Your lives will be extinguished in a cataclysmic blast just as mine!"

He took a step back, surveying his captive audience with a twisted satisfaction. The room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the faint sound of the collars' mechanisms.

"Now, children, take a good look at the man who holds your lives in his hands and know that you have nothing to fear!"



"Because he's a REAL Good Guy!"