In the dunes of the Dubai desert stands the Burj Khalifa, watching over the city below, unmistakable in the far distance. But in the immediate environs, there is nothing but sand, and the audible wind. The sun shines brightly in the Middle-Eastern sky, but, far away, the clouds seem to gather in the distance.

“As-salamu alaykum, sir.”

A lonely figure walks amongst the dunes, looking through the wind-carried sandstorm at the massive tower in the distance. Covered in a black Bedouin robe, the figure gazes at the distant clouds. He approaches a simple hut where a white-robed man is tending to a patch of tilled soil.

“Wa ʿalaykumu s-salām, traveler. Are you lost?”

“You could say that I have been, but now, hopefully, I shall find my way. I see, however, that you too are looking for guidance.”

“Well, I hope that you find your way, and that we can finally get some rain. I don’t want my crops to die out.”

The hooded figure nods.

“I too have planted some seeds some time ago, and want them to bear fruit as well.”

“Oh? Do you also tend crops?”

“Sadly not. These are seeds of a, let’s say, metaphysical, kind. There are those that will try to impede their growth, and so far they’ve been successful. But this time, if Heaven wills, it is I that shall succeed."

If you would not mind, I would like to leave a prayer. Both for your crops, and for mine.”

“You seem to be an outlander, but you do me a great honor. Do you know the way we pray?”

“I do know a thing or two…”

Kneeling in the ground, the hooded man raises both hands in the fashion of the Dua - the prayer of Islam - and, closing their eyes behind the Bedouin robes that hide their face, utters one simple sentence:

“Allahummaj-'alhu soyyiban naafi’an…”

(“O, Allah, make this a beneficial rain…”)

“Ahh, very good! Please allow me to join you.”

“It would be my honor, sir. These deserts need the rain.”

The farmer kneels down with the traveler, and, facing in the direction required, they prostrate themselves in the sand. The prayer complete, the hooded man gets up first. With a slight bow of the head, he hands the farmer a 500 dirham note.

“My thanks for your hospitality, sir, and for letting me pray with you.”

“Oh, thank you so very much! But tell me, might I know your name?”

Inside the Bedouin hood that hides his face, the glint of the eyes of the man hints to a smile.

“My name, sir… is Raion Kido.”

WIth one swift movement, the man flings the robe away, revealing himself to be Raion Kido - wearing his resplendent Gold Cloth of Leo, and his wild mane flowing freely in the desert wind.

“I know you! You’re the one they call the Lion!”

The young man nods, and the smile on his face widens.

“And just like your crops, it’s finally time that the rain comes to the XWF.

And I shall be the one to bring it.”


“The Burj Khalifa. The tallest building in the world, and the icon of the wealth, opulence, and power of Dubai. And yet, around this city there is nothing but desert, ever crying out for rain.

But no longer.”

Thus the Lion begins, as the wind sweeps at the dunes of Dubai behind his back.

“For this is what I came here to do. This is what I spent every waking hour since March Madness to do. Twice now have I come this close to touching a prize, only for it to be snatched away at the very last moment. But no more.

NO! MORE!”

These two last words echo through the dust and the wind, reverberating into the ever-expanding desert around, as the clouds in the sky begin to concentrate - threatening to cover the shining sun. Almost as if converging in a single point, before finally bursting.

Almost as if the cosmos were to burn.


“At leap of Faith, I finally achieve what I’ve prepared to achieve. On May 29th, among six people, I shall finally be the ultimate victor - the holder of the 24/7 briefcase.

For I’ve spent too long wandering through the desert, and I’ve had my time wasted enough.”

His right fist clenched, the Lion peels back his lips - a very feral look about his eyes. It was time to show that all this time had not been in vain.

“Speaking of wasted time, let’s begin with the first name that comes to mind. Marf Swaysons - someone who has been a non-entity since losing the 24/7 Xtreme Title. You’ve got an uncouth vocabulary, no qualms about cheating, and can’t be bothered doing anything of note. It’s lazy, unoriginal, and the same thing every time. People like you come a dime a dozen, so I’m going to give you a minimum of credit you don’t seem to deserve, and suppose that there is, or used to be, something that warranted you being twice Television Champion.

With that in mind, Marf, answer me this. Even if we took the time and effort to dig that deep, what exactly have you done to deserve being in this match? How are you any different from the rest of the rabble I’ve faced? At least, despite my setbacks, I have earned my place in this Pay-Per-View as I said I would. Because see, unlike you, I am serious about competing in the XWF. And at least I didn’t suffer the complete humiliation of getting beat in the kind of match I touted as my specialty, as happened to you at Star Warfare.

All that 24/7 glory, all that bragging about the cake of violence you created, in the end, all for nothing. What makes you think you have the minimal possibility of a shot against five other people, let alone me? See, I’m not like the rest of the people in this match, Marf. Bobby Bourbon is falling apart, Angie Vaughn is still treading water, Vita Valenteen is hit and miss, and Mark Flynn doesn’t have the North Korean War Criminal to cover for him.

To me, Marf, everyone in this match is prey, and the worst lot of them all is for you. Because you shall soon see that the downward spiral hasn’t ended. You’ve walked into this to see how far your descent still goes, because no amount of wanton violence and expletive words is going to save you from tasting the fangs of the Lion.

And mark my words, Marf. Once the Lion sinks his fangs into your filthy neck, the only thing left for you is a slow, agonizing death in the deserts of Dubai - right in the shadow of the mighty Burj Khalifa.”

At this point, the clouds now cover the sky - now a heavy shade of gray, and the threat of a storm now patent.

As patent as the storm that the Lion unleashes when he speaks next.

“Speaking of shadows, we now move to Mark Flynn. Former XWF Heavyweight Champion, first holder of this 24/7 briefcase we’re going against, and now one half of the XWF Tag Team Champions. And despite that, self-proclaimed King of the Midcarders. Am I supposed to cower in fear? Right in my very second match in the XWF, I was facing, and beating, a certified Legend, and a man that held those same titles, and more. Right in my third match I was having my very first Main Event, and since then, I have been right before it, at Savage Saturday Night.

Granted, I might have lost a title match and a tournament finals, but that’s much more than you’ve done without your partner. Maybe if he was here I’d put right his insult to me after March Madness IV too, but alas, I deal only with you, and I’ll make sure to get the retribution I am owed. Because, Flynn, let me fill you in: The last time you were seen in singles action, you lost to Alias while I was beating Cage Coleman.

And let’s not even pretend that beating the likes of Double Trouble and the team of Dolly Waters and RL Edgar means anything, let’s not pretend ruling a division where there’s nobody to pose a serious challenge is the same as working your way up the ranks as I have since Fire and Ice. For among all those people I’ve beat, only three had yet to earn any XWF gold.

So yes, Flynn, try to bring up the records, but we’ve seen it all, and we know better. You’re not deserving of your place here, not any more than the other failure I’ve mentioned before you. And there is no one here this time to save your sorry backside when you end up facing the Lion - a Lion that has had a point to prove for two months, that is hungry, and that shall go for the throat of anyone that dares stand in his way.

That, Mark Flynn, is your fate. You’ve crossed me but one single time with the Cho-KING line, but the Lion remembers. And come Leap of Faith, he’s going to ensure that you drown in your own blood.”

Raion Kido now points towards the camera. He would not have his honor be questioned, and he would uphold it by blood - and by victory.

“And blood, indeed, is what brings me to our resident vampire, Vita Valenteen. Yet another former Champion, but alas, a person whose recent road in the XWF has been rather… erratic, to say the least. Is that not what has happened since March Madness until now? It’s one thing to beat Thunder Knuckles, as I too have, but it’s an entirely different thing to lose against people that I have beat, such as Angie Vaughn.

And while your attempt to come at Tommy Wish with dirty feet was creative, I shall warn you beforehand that I don’t care how badly your feet smell, I’m still going to face you like the wrestler you are, give you the credit you deserve, and that’s why I’m coming to put you down as would the brightness of the sun in this desert. And something else, Ms. Vampire. It’s one thing to drink blood for sustenance, especially with all the work you do, but are you willing to spill it for your own survival?

I tell you this, because that’s exactly what I am going to fight for here. For a Lion might be a noble beast, but a beast he does remain. And upon seeing itself in danger, a beast’s natural response is to kill. I tell you this, and you should take care to listen, considering you’ve only had two wins in these entire two months! From going undefeated to losing the Supercontinental Title match, to being just another entrant coming to take the Leap of Faith.

Alas, Ms. Vampire, this is not your chance. This is what I have had in mind the second the final bell rang at March Madness IV, and I shall not stand for some of the other opportunists in this match to snatch away my final prize one more time.

So, if the undead can pray, I suggest you seek the aid of whatever deity will deign to listen to a vampire. Pray that you find yourself out of my way. For if we come face to face, Ms. Valenteen, there’s only one way that an encounter with the Lion shall go - with the Lightning Bolt, and the Lion’s fangs, being driven right through your heart.”

The young Saint of Athena now drives a fist forward. As courageous as Vita Valenteen might have been, it was time to show her that she had stepped into a much larger stage - one in which was involved a Lion.

And one in which he would finally be victorious.

“And we talk about heart, to come to our final opponent, Angie Vaughn. I’m sure that you got the heart to come avenge your loss - maybe even take this all. Unfortunately, though, the circumstances here are much different than a simple one-on-one, both for you and for me.

Because as I have said before, this is the chance for me to finally get that big break. Not just a mere win against a formidable opponent, not just a singles match on Savage Saturday Night, Wednesday Night Warfare, or even a Pay-Per-View.

This, for me, is a shot at glory. A shot at gold down the line, if there is no other way to earn it. Something that I have had in my sights from the first moment I made my appearance back at Fire and Ice. And to that end, Ms. Angie, this time, I’m going to war. Not one of the four people around us shall ever come close to getting that briefcase, and if it’s you that makes it that far, I shall take you down once more.

For, as you know, this is my charge. It’s what I’m here to do, and it’s why my cosmos ignites every time I am in the ring. You, I have already beat - but there are people here that I have yet to beat, and so help me Athena, I shall.

So make yourself ready, Ms. Angie. This is exactly what you said to Reggie Estrada. This is me not settling, not ever settling, for the second place - and come Leap of Faith, you’re going to know, exactly, how far those words can go. How far, Ms. Angie, I am willing to go for the sake of justice!”

One more pause, and one more echo of the final word, as the now blackened clouds gathered in the sky begin to rumble - the unmistakable sign of an incoming storm.

A storm of justice, delivered by the hand of the Lion.

“And justice I do say, because as if all of this were already not enough, it’s not only because of the Leap of Faith briefcase that I come to this match, for I come, above everything else, to enact retribution. To obtain justice once and for all. Is that not right, Mr. Grand High PooBob, whatever it is you style yourself now?

Here we have him, the King that failed. The King that caused Charlie Nickles to want to leave the Brotherhood of Bastards after you failed to save him from getting pinned by the Tag Team Champions. The absent King that failed to address his people, and could not even beat the very same man I defeated in my very debut! The very same King that could barely beat Ned Kaye - the very same King that took the easy way out last Warfare, and pinned Joshua Schuler to run from Vita Valenteen!

Is that what I am supposed to be facing here? Is that the standard for which you defeated me, to bear the title that you do now? If that is the case, it’s time to set things right. Because there is no Thunder Knuckles to put a limp on my legs here, Bourbon, nor a Jenny Myst for you to get an easy road to the finals.

This time, you’re not running with a pack, there’s no Brotherhood of Bastards having your back. There’s four other people looking to get that briefcase… and then, there’s a Lion that remembers that it took a miracle for you to defeat him, and that after that, you came crashing down, and proved unworthy of your mantle. There’s a Lion that has spent two months preparing towards this moment, at this very event, and that won every match he’s fought since then but one - and only because Charlie Nickles chose to run away. Just like you did last Warfare.

For in the end, that’s all you have. There’s no actual skill for you or your kind, only some degree of low cunning, but this time it shall not be enough. For there’s a Lion, Bourbon, that will not wander in the damned desert any longer. I’ve come too far, and waited too long, for my time to be denied one more time, and I’m going to guarantee this. While all this time you have embarrassed yourself, I’ve been in constant fighting, and I’ve overcome it all. And now, when you and I meet, what’s going to happen is what only Thunder Knuckles and sheer luck prevented from happening.

This time, Bourbon, you’re going to lose. Not only that - you’re going to be utterly destroyed. And you’ll be falling right down the depths into the desert where you were before coming back at my expense - where you have always belonged!”

*BOOOOOOOOOM!!!”

As the Lion roars the final words, and raises his right fist into the air, a peal of thunder resonates through the desert as a lightning bolt impacts right on the Burj Khalifa’s lightning rods.

Let every other participant in this match beware.

“I have said enough, and had enough, of this desert. It’s time to make this barren waste fertile, and for this desert to taste the rain. When everybody else in this match comes crashing down from the tallest point of the Burj Khalifa, this barren land, and the XWF Universe, shall finally be able to slake their thirst.

For this match, this opportunity, and the victory of the Lion, ladies and gentlemen, was long, and sorely missed. Like the deserts miss the rain.”

Drops of rain begin to fall, making the resplendent golden armor of the Lion glisten. The Osaka wrestler points towards the sky, and, that feral grin finally appearing on his lips, brings his pointing finger down, as the water droplets coalesce with the sand below.

“And at Leap of Faith, it is finally time… for the rain, and for the rest of you, to fall.”

Fade to black.

3000 words (wordcounter.net)