Cain has had a long and storied career of fighting and war. If you watched the "Long Time Ago" series, you witnessed merely a fraction of that which has happened in the Last Son of Eden's life. He is a slayer of Gods and Kings. He is a decimator and defiler of humans. "The Future of Darkness" describes him quite well, as he is the closest thing to an actual AntiChrist that we have in this day and age. Think about it. Have you ever heard the fans when Cain comes through the curtain? Have you heard their chanting when he completely eviscerates his opponents, most of whom wait until the last second to show up. They cheer. They chant. They hang onto his every word like it is the word of a God.

Now, Mexico City is the battleground. The date? The date is October 1st, and thirty days from that? Cain's birthday. Cain is taking this match deadly serious too. Save for a few promos plagued with static, they haven't actually heard from the man. He instead gives us a glimpse into his past, and shows us his nightmares. But now is the time. Now is the time for him to speak as your tv slowly fades into a shot of a prison execution room. It's empty, save for what you expect to find in a room where men are executed. Breaker boxes and the old wooden electric chair with wires connected to it, no doubt dead wires. This place is obviously abandoned, and we get silence for about thirty seconds. Then static. Then the lights spark and explode to life, your screen flashing and sitting there, in the chair is The Last Son of Eden himself.

He bares his fangs at the camera and speaks much like Alfred Hitchcock. "Good evening, Cainaanites and non believers as well."

He isn't biased toward those who are biased toward him. That is to say, he doesn't hold partisan toward the people who love him. Like any good cult leader or political figure, he loves all of his followers. Because deep down, he knows that eventually, they will love him. This is a sick and twisted kind of love though. The kind Jim Jones had toward his cult. But the well dressed Cain is far more than a country bumpkin with a direct connection to God. He is a demon. A feared one. "Can you feel it?"

He raised a hand up to the light, looking toward the Heavens. "Can you feel my power? My influence? You will, soon. Soon, this world will cease to be as you know it."

He chuckled. It wasn't one of those cold, empty chuckles either. No, there was a slight tinge of insanity in this laugh. He flourishes his arms out to the side and leans forward in his throne, which is a throne of death. Considering that it is an electric chair. "What am I SAYING? This whole Universe is about to change, because soon, it will be led by a true ruler. A realGod. A Universal Champion so legendary that men like Ric Flair and Eli James will be forgotten. All those who doubt me? They will learn the error of their ways."

Truth until death. He'd heard that not too long ago in a Blizzard promo. The one he'd uploaded last night two minutes before the "preshow" was even booked. Cain hasn't been on the preshow in a promotion for a long time. He is a Main Event player. They merely "talk of his legend" on the preshow. He sighs. "As much as I hate to do this.." shakes his head. "...yes. Let's recap what happened last week on Warfare, Cainaanites."

Last week on Warfare was to be HIS time. It was to be his opportunity to get himself the title shot he so rightfully deserved. There may be those who disagree, but Cain knows, deep down that he should have had his hand raised. Instead, rather, he had to accept the decision of a potato fucking mad man. "Blizzard says "I expected to roll into Perth and have a fair match for the Universal Championship contendership." As if it was unfair that he actually got what he wanted. Noone screwed this moron. He was just too lazy to put any work into promoting himself until the very last second. Me? I was a fucking farmer. I know what hard work is, and I know what it is to toil for the favor of others. This whole week I have been promoting myself, MY brand nonstop. Everywhere I go, I meet with the fans, who worship me. Blizzard? He just started promoting his brand last night. That's not good business. That's shitty workmanship. More proof that I desire this more, wouldn't you all agree?"

I would. Your narrator has watched Cain go in front of the cameras each and everyday. Your narrator has seen Cain visit sick children in the hospital, and kill others for their amusement. The Last Son of Eden has just fell short of having his own bus like the Lex Express. But Aidan would whine about that too. Cain continues, bringing up another fact. You know Blizzard loves facts. "Also, now that I watch those promos, it feels like he has run out of ideas for things to say. I mean, for two solid weeks he has been constantly whining about "oh, this isn't real. Cain is a fictional monster. He's just a guy who plays a monster on tv." He tilts his head. "Okay. So many people have said the same thing, in different ways, but the same thing. It's slightly confusing really. I mean, I don't know about any of you but I saw the Crimson Face morph into Eli James in order to deceive people. You know, those tricks aren't easy to pull off. Unless you're David Copperfield. Or this is the X-Files. Speaking of X-Files, isn't Azrael Erebus legitimately an alien? Not the Mexican kind, but the ET kind. What of Sebastian Duke? Making firey flammages with no help from a pyrotechnics guy? I'm a bit confused. This is Wednesday Warfare, right? I know it is, but bare with me..." he smiles. "...because Aidan Collins always tells the truth." That's sarcasm, folks. If Cain isn't real, then what does that mean for Crimson Face? Azrael? Duke? That means Blizzard's arguements against Cain are proven invalid.

Cain holds a clawed finger up and reaches into his coat. He pulls out an Ipad and begins swiping the screen. "Also, there is something else quite fishy about the two promos Blizzard supposedly filmed." Swipe. Swipe. Tap. "Cainaanites, I want you to look very closely at the timestamp. If you will see that each one of these promos hit the airwaves within mere seconds of one another." True, seconds is an exaggeration. But the point is, to this narrator, that it is strange how he waited till the last second to upload his work. Cain narrows his eyes."Okay, Collins. I'm addressing you directly now, because you sir have irked my curiosity. You see, you claim to have legitimately won last week's match. But from what I see, you're scared. You would sooner wait until the last second to make your battle plan known, than do what I've done. If I am so fake, then why not tell me three days earlier what you are going to be? From your words, "you know" you can beat me. So why not tell me that? Why keep your plans a secret until almost the day of the show? Shane pays for good upload speeds, you know. Large videos are no problem. So, why is it a problem to let me kmow what you plan on doing? You know you can beat me, big man." He rolls his eyes. "Or do you? Because I don't see it. You want to talk about "truth until death", yet you become a hypocrite. If what you said happened on Warfare last week ACTUALLY happened then why wait so long to tell us about it? I'll tell you why. You came on tv with some contrived bullshit about getting girls pregnant and that making you late to work. It took you a week to come up with that excuse, and how do we know it wasn't a stunt double? After all, nothing else you say is true. You talk about others and their contrived excuses, yet you turn out to be the KING of contrived bee ess."

Cain applauds. Actually, he golf claps, then sighs. "I am so dissappointed in these so called XWF Legends." Cain shrugs in confusion."They poke their head in the door and look around, and see the talent that now walks through the land of Xtreme. The LH Harrisons. The Vinnie Lanes. The guys you see like myself out their everyday, busting their asses for the company." He grits his teeth. "Put one of them in a match with one of us and what happens? They get lazy. They underestimate us, because they've seen the top of the mountain. They presume that makes them better than us. So they get lazy and decide "hey, why should I work? I've paid my dues. I'll just phone it in and beat this guy.". But..." he waggles his finger, as if scolding the viewer. "...what they fail to realize is that the phone lines have been cut. Their doom is unavoidable. We are the new breed, and I...well, I am the Alpha male of this pack."

You can tell that when Cain says this, he means every word. There was a time when the Last Son of Eden doubted himself. He let everyone's words get to him. But times change when you meet like minded people and you find perhaps one of the best teachers on the planet. Cain puts away his Ipad. "So where does that leave me? How do I conclude all this getting stuff off my chest, knowing that in mere hours I will legitimately face one of those "legends"?" he rubs his beard in thought."There is only one way, Blizzard. Only one thing left to say to you. You, who underestimated me. You who creates contrived excuses for showing up late to work. Much to your delight, you WILL get a fair match." Cain sends chills down your spine as Cain grins evilly, the camera zooming in on his face. His eyes flash. "Just don't go crying to management when I beat your lying ass in front of my Cainaanites, "legend"." He laughs, laughter echoing through the halls of the old prison.

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