“It would seem our Princess is upset.”

*CLANG!*

A fire burns in the Texas desert, the tall rock formations a dark shade blue instead of their usual red, owing to the early morning before the break of dawn. The sound of metal pounding metal echoes within the canyons.

“We’ve gone from a friendly condescension to pouring her little raging heart out.”

*CLANG!*

The hammer crashes upon the hardened metal, the otherwise golden armor now red-hot from the fire.

“And I think it’s about time I showed her some heart of my own!”

*CLANG!*

Breathing out a heavy sigh, Raion Kido leaves the metal to cool upon the anvil, wipíng beads of sweat from his forehead. In the intense heat of the forge around him, he is clad only in a black tank top and faded blue jeans. He looks at the pieces of the Golden Cloth, and a look of concern crosses his face. The fantastic, ornate armor is showing a spider-web of barely visible cracks - almost like a railroad map of tiny ruptures upon the metal.

“I’m sorry, Raion, but this is going to take more than a hammer and an anvil. To revive a Golden Cloth is beyond the art of any smith.”

“What…?”

The Lion turns around in the voice’s direction, to find a hooded figure staring at him. In the darkness before dawn, there is no way to discern their features - though the voice sounds female and serene.

“Who?”

A strange sensation washes through the Lion - while there is no impending sense of danger, there is something that tells him that he should kneel before the hooded figure - which he does instantly.

“Now listen to me. The Gold Cloths have a life of their own - but even they can die if they are pushed too far. Is that not what has happened? Fight after fight, victory after victory, and yet you feel lifeless. The damage to your Cloth is the proof of that.

But there is a way to resurrect it.

To revive a dead Cloth and reawaken its cosmos requires that which carries the cosmos through a Saint’s body.”

“What do you mean…?”

“You know that everything in the universe is made of atoms - stars, flowers, your body and mine. Atoms form cells, and cells need nourishment to live. What do you think carries that nourishment within your body?”

It did not take the Lion long to figure it out, but it most certainly did to blurt out the answer.

“Blood!”

“Yes. It is the spring of life itself, and therefore the only thing that may restore a dead Cloth. Are you then willing to put your blood on the line to reawaken it?”

The Lion looks at the mysterious woman, then at the cracked Golden Cloth, and then at his own hands. Was that not, after all, what Sarah Lacklan had said? Was he not lifeless despite scoring victory after victory?

If the Blood Princess wanted a challenge, then the Gold Saint of Leo would indulge her.

And through his blood, he would draw hers.

“Okay - here goes nothing. HYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAH!”

*SLASH!*

Drawing a knife from the tools in the forge, the Lion makes a slash across his palm - the blood that starts to flow now mingling with the metal, seeping within the cracks.

“You are indeed a worthy Saint, Raion. It does good to my heart to see that even in this day and age, there are those that still call themselves Saints of Athena…”

A gust of wind blows through the canyon, and a cloud of swirling dust covers up the area. It is all the Lion can do to cover his eyes…

“Hey - where are you? Where have you gone?”

… but the hooded figure is now gone, and the Lion is on his own again. He looks around, finding nothing, and then at his own hands - which are as immaculate as they were before the encounter.

“... Was it all a dream after all?”

But at the forge, the red-hot metal now emits a brighter blow - not just the red from the fire, but a brighter gold, bright almost as the rays of the sun that begins to shine in the Texas desert.

“...!”

Seeing the strange change upon his armor plate, the Lion’s eyes widen. Whether what transpired was real or imagined did not matter, for there was only one thing to do.

If Sarah Lacklan had called him mundane, it was time for her to experience, just as everyone else had, the extraordinary power of a Saint of Athena.

*CLANG!*

*CLANG!*

And in the revived heat of the fire, the Lion goes once more, more intensely than ever before, to take the hammer to the anvil.

“She has crashed upon the anvil - and now the hammer comes for her!”



“Sarah Lacklan, who more often than not starts her addresses with a “HIIIIIIIIIIIIII” at the top of her lungs, wants to call me formulaic.”

The smirk that the Lion bears on his face as he begins matches the ferocious glint in his eyes - the look of the predator in front of his prey.

Sarah Lacklan, the same that spends her entire time soliloquizing on her podcasts or drawing comics, dares to accuse me of doing the same thing all over again.

Sarah Lacklan, the self-addressed best example of modern wrestling, who has participation trophies all over her room, wants to call me a Mary Sue!”

A rumbling laughter cut short into a blade-sharp silence.

“This would actually be hilarious, were it not so tragic. This is the change of which Sarah Lacklan speaks! The same regurgitated antics all over again! The same show of inanity that fails against people with the merest modicum of talent.

For you see, I could call a simple video message uncreative, point out the lack of originality of any ideas our dear Sarah wants to throw at me. Let’s throw a sex joke about me being Japanese, like everyone else that tried to bring that up.

But that would be an easy path, something to which Sarah is used over a lifetime of draining decadence. For all your past glory, it seems you never learned how to do a proper address, and I’m now going to show you how that is done.

I told you my last address was just the anvil on which you’ve chosen to break yourself.

Now behold the hammer.”

The Lion hoists the hammer above his head, before it comes down with unrelenting force upon the anvil.

*CLANG!*

“For starters, I’m going to point out the idiocy in drawing attention to how I do my work considering that’s what my last opponent did. I would have expected better from someone of Sarah Lacklan’s stature, but you chose to stoop to his level, as if you had not spent time here since 2019. The rich history of the Blood Princess, carelessly discarded for an exercise in stupidity.

I’m also going to call this address of yours for what it really is - the flailing of your limbs against something you know you cannot prevent, the impotent raging against the dying of the light.

I saw past you the moment you first mentioned your near two year-absence, and I’m going to show this now.”

It was time for Raion Kido to show the Blood Princess the mistake she had made.

“This address to me, Sarah, reeks of desperation and fear. You can’t stand the thought of the Firestarter’s great return going up in the proverbial flames, the one that taught Dolly Waters how to lose finding her teachings reflected back upon her by the Lion.

And you know why I know this?

Because that’s exactly what happened last March Madness.”

The leonine, peeled back-canines grin creeps into the face of the Gold Saint of Leo.

“I knew Jenny Myst would be no danger, Thunder Knuckles would not take me seriously and he would pay the price, but I saw that Bobby Bourbon would. A single move caused him to be King, but by Athena herself… I knew exactly the foe I should have to face.

And it’s the same case here, Sarah. You are trying, with every ounce of your being, to try to stall the blow that shall strike your head, and deep down, you know it shall fail.

And that’s one of the many reasons why I am superior to you. You made the same mistake I made last year - one that I shall not make again. Ask Bobby Bourbon what happened the next time he saw Raion Kido - he ended up with a hollow crown that led to the mediocrity in which he’s been slumped, and which now comes for you.”

A silence before the Lion shrugs, disdain written upon his face.

“Of course, this is Sarah Lacklan, so it’s not going to be so bad. There’s always Anarchy to go back, and you’ll go back to being queen of the playground.

Or you could struggle there too. I suppose you’re right when you say I wouldn’t know that - after all, I’ve never been on an eight-loss streak, nor have I lost three times in a row! Maybe it’s because I actually know what I’m doing, and I answer only to Athena instead of the hordes of interns you pay to be your CoolTube fans.

And it rankles you, Sarah. It eats you up inside that a simple man, without your lineage or the luxury you’ve enjoyed, can be successful without making a fool of himself, and so you rail at my so-called mundanity. You chastise me and what I do because, unlike you, I am consistent in my ethic, and it has worked.”

The Lion clenches his fist, gone now all pretense of smiling.

“The moment things go south, you start hovering around, doing nothing. It was more than six hundred days last time, what shall it be next? A thousand? I lost the March Madness finals and I was already preparing for Leap of Faith. I had a title loss and I was winning a 4-way match the following week.

Because after all, Sarah, I’m not a spoiled brat like you. I’m younger, yet I’m the adult you fail to be - the reason for this embarrassing outburst. For you are intent on projecting this aura of terrible wickedness, but you are as transparent as your delicate white skin.

Underneath this Blood Princess that wants to burn the world, there still lies the little vulnerable child that throws her toys out the pram if she’s not told how special she is. And despite the media, your wealth and your clique, that girl has never grown up, still used to being pampered and treated like Daddy's Precious Little Darling Girl."

The Lion clenches his fist, gone now all pretense of smiling.

“But now you face someone that not only works for what he obtains, but someone who also created change, and who shall do so again both at Weekend Warfare and March Madness.

You can be Tag Team Champion afterwards, or go back to the irrelevance you’ve embraced, but whatever your choice, the crown of the XWF Kingdom belongs to me.”

*CLANG!*

One final strike of the hammer, and the Lion now dons the Golden Cloth once more - now a divine light surging from its restored form.


“And that, Sarah, was the sound of the hammer that shall deal the final strike. Those were the words of a man, putting his blood and soul into every word, showing you just how far he’s willing to go for the crown, and how brightly the cosmos shall burn at Weekend Warfare.

That was Raion Kido giving you his heart.”

And with a swift motion that shakes the very air around it, the Lion makes a final point towards the camera.

“And at Weekend Warfare, he’s going to hand you yours.”

Fade to black.