In the age of angels and demons…

Legends tell of a lowly creature...

This wretch bargained with something ancient…

Infernal…

This worm was granted… Immortality…

At a cost.

Their soul? Taken.

Cursed with unquenchable bloodlust.

All vampires descend from this pariah …

The Head Vampire.

All vampiric powers derive from them.

”UNEQUALLY!”

---

”Point-of-order!” Bellows a vampire, dressed like a 17th-century aristocrat! ”This thin-blooded urchin interrupted the re-telling of our culture!”

”Tell the WHOLE story, you pompous FUCK!”

”Whoooooa… Chill…”

In an XWF HQ boardroom…

A table covered with employment contracts, email screenshots…

Alongside archaic texts, ancient scrolls…

The room’s divided in two.

On the left, 18th-century, European dandies, straight outta Gothic art.

Canes, knee-breeches, and manservants pouring them vintage wines for them to swirl and not drink.

On the right? Vampire truckers.

Sipping on blood-infused energy drinks. Spitting into tobacco snuff cups.

…

Somehow, sitting between these factions?

Wrestling Union Founder, Mark Flynn.

Flynn squints at a scroll, reading… Sumarian runes?

“…Okay, Da-mi-an?” Flynn gestures at the recently-interrupted aristocratic vampire. “Could you pl-”

“C’moooooooon...” The interrupting vampire… interrupts.

This fella’s sporting flannel, ballcap, jeans... Average dude, excepting his pale complexion and fangs.

“These sissies rule all vampire-kind for MILLENIA! Now, you let ‘em control the dialogue? Thought you were an ally.”

“Al, everyone’s getting a turn to talk. You’re on-deck.”

…Al snorts.

Flynn spins back to Damian. “Dame. I enjoyed your… ghost story. Exactly what… purpose did *you* feel it serves?”

“That ‘Ghost story’… is our culture!” Damian, the traditionalist vampire straightens his cravat. ”Ancient tradition dictates we begin meetings by recounting our history! It reminds our coven of its purpose: to maintain the order granting our infernal power!”

”Y’mean, maintain the existing power structure!” Al scoffs. ”Y’all hide behind words like ‘tradition’ and ‘culture’ to justify stealing crumbs away from newly-turned vampires, hogging the power biscuit for y’selves!”

”Guys! Let’s skip the history lesson… the FUCK we doing here?”

”Re-evaluating power allocation from the Head Vampire’s bloodline.” Al leans in. ”Vampire Truckers are the heart of logistics around the WORLD… when’s the sun’s down.”

The vampire truckers hear-hear with a sequence of spits.

”We need additional blood magics for enhanced constitution! Without it, we gotta feed more often, take more breaks… We’ll miss delivery dates!”

”...Ugh… Blood magic…”

”Those magics are traditionally reserved among first-through-fifth generation vampires! We cannot simply re-allocate them!”

”Sure, you nancy-boys gotta keep ‘em for all your hard work! Sitting in Victorian castles and seducing villager girls! Y’all are parasites! We’re the fools you feed off, you bloodsuckers!”

”We’re all bloodsuckers, Aloysius! Furtherm-”

”SILENCE!”

…

”Let’s call this what it is.”

“A FIGHT.”

“You asked me to mediate, but you really want a referee.’

“There’s no mutually-beneficial solution.”

“What y’all are quibbling over?”

“Is POWER.”

“...Maybe you requested me because I brokered the deal for improved vampiric treatment… AND I’m pro-labor…”

“Maybe you each thought I’d be more sympathetic to your side?”

“Bad news! I HATE YOU BOTH EQUALLY.”

“This meeting’s OVER!” Damian stands… The aristocrats join him.

“That’s one option.”

“The truckers’ll keep striking… And your fancy doilies, hounds, rich-people bullshit? Will sit in warehouses, undelivered.”

…The aristocrats…

…Sit down.

“Preach, brother.” Al raises a fist at Flynn.

“Meanwhile, the truckers’ll tighten their belts… Feeding at night, risking exposure to sunlight, vampire hunters… because they’re losing money striking.”

…Al lowers his fist.

”THIS...” Flynn points at the table’s documents. ”Is unsustainable.”

”For both sides. Resources as-is? You’re both losing.”

”And if either side exits now? Everyone *stays* losing.”

…

”But.”

”If we play ball today… and NEGOTIATE.”

“One side wins.”

“And…”

“The losing side can fight tomorrow.”

…

“The losing-est move for both sides?”

“Is not to play.”

“You’ve got an opponent.”

“You’ve got a referee.”

…

”Wanna fight?”

“Let’s FIGHT.”

---

The age-old question.

What’s Flynn Graves’s angle?

What’ll he do with POWER?

…

Let’s take attendance.

Vita.

Plucky vampiric upstart.

Her mission? To prove that I’m NOT who I say I am.

On one hand, sweet kid.

Former client of Christopher K. Clinton.

On the other…

Blood magic user…

Icky.

Alongside Vita?

Aurora.

Despite all her bluster…

Claiming I’m unionizing as a self-serving power grab.

I don’t *dislike* Aurora.

I pity her.

The latest Ringo in SEB’s ever-rotating sidekick band.

Aurora, you’re more aware of XWF history than most.

Lemme ask…

See much of Pantheon recently?

Spencer Adams? Corey Black?

Nope.

SEB dropped ‘em when they couldn’t carry him.

In that Trios match? Champs versus Revolution?

SEB ate the pin.

I Flynn booted Lucy’s face…

*You* fought through Bourbon’s blubber until the final bell rung.

*You* were your side’s MVP.

…But, you’re not BFFs with Thad.

And you’re not dating Thad either.

So, when SEB decides he wants a new teammate to disappoint…

Who’d’ya think’s getting axed?

…

We both know.

You can’t workhorse hard enough to alter the structure from within.

It’s gotta be dismantled from the outside.

…

Team Two!

Madison Dyson.

Ultrafacist.

Eugenicist.

Fox News contributor.

…

On one hand?

Fuck Maddy.

…On the other?

…

…Nah, fuuuuuuuck Maddy.

Finally, Dom.

Nice kid.

We haven’t run into each other much.

You’re opening shows…

I’m main-eventing.

If you don’t already, you’ll eventually hate me.

Like everybody else that can’t beat me, haha.

…

So.

What’s Graves’ angle?

Does he fuck over…

Vita for trying to expose him?

Aurora for elbow-rubbing with Thad’s buddies?

Dom for being undefeated on Anarchy?

Dyson… Cuz it’d be funny?

…

Get this punchline.

Graves.

Calls this one.

Right.

Down.

The Middle.

Why?

This is a pivotal moment for the Union.

We’ve proven, with collective action?

We can do ANYTHING!

The Union got a bearded furry…

A win over Dyson.

The Union got SCHISM…

A pin on SEB.

…

When we unite?

Our power’s limitless.

…

But how will we wield that power?

Like a toy?

A weapon?

…No.

We will prove better.

Worthy of the proletariat’s trust.

For the Revolution to be truly equalizing?

It can’t play favorites.

…

May the best team win.