With Warfare finally coming to a close, David breathed a sigh of relief from backstage. He had been watching the live feed from the cameras out in the audience surrounding the ring, and with the Callaway/Eli match foing on, he was found holding his breath by more than one notable Warfare roster member. But with the conclusion emerging positively for two out of his three favourite people on this earth, he finally was able to breathe again, like a new life had been rushed into him. But then Cllaway stood in the ring, belt high above her head as Eli looked on. But David knew Eli better than that blank stare Eli shot at Callaway. That was the look only he, a confidante, would know. It was a skin-deeper look of pure amusement. This notion frightened David. Eli's amusement was another's pain. He was looking into the future. And David feared very much what that may be.

But with Eli now extending a hand to Alexandra in offer of joining his Congregation, David was unsure of how to feel. Alexandra had fallen down a dark path in her feud with her ex, Mr. Supernova, and David knew that Eli fed on that darkness. It was the same state he had found David in; locked in a mad delusion, wrought with hidden anger and guilt. It was only the sorrow that managed to drag David back, clawing and screaming all the way back up the walls of his cortex. With Eli's assistance, the human had re-emerged, but at what cost? He had three voices dancing around inside him, each fighting for the right to speak or move. The battle for the body raged.

David was afraid, not only for Alexandra, not only for Eli, but also for himself. With Eli and Callaway now engaged in a krieg for the U.S. Title, where did he fall? Who was the closer to his heart? Who, if anyone, could he side with? From within, Benedict's voice cried out for solitude. A sound advice. To be alone in one's drive upwards. At least for now. When it all came down to the wire, and either Eli or Alexandra emerged with the gold, he hoped everything would return to normal. It was a cynical notion throbbing at the back of his head. At equal volume to Benedict, Mystica screamed that nothing would ever be the same. Choose, he cried, choose wisely.

And he couldn't. That's what really killed him. It left an aching in his stomach whenever his thoughts wandered to the idea. Choosing between two of his best friends was an ache that spread through his body like a rampant virus taking control of a computer. Who would win? Who would he belong to? Would they all convalesce?

Interrupting his thoughts for a moment, David caught the shadow of Steve Sayors approaching, microphone in hand and cameraman standing a few feet behind him like a meek bodyguard. Before Steve could even get a word out, David had already shouted his displeasure.

"No, no no. Not you. Everywhere I go, you bloody find me!"

"I'm sorry, Mystica, but we have a few questions I'm sure everyone would like answered," Steve pleaded, sticking the microphone up to David's face. He quickly responded, knocking the tool away from him.

"I've already pondered what you're going to ask," David scowled before turning away and making for the locker room. But before he disappeared, he looked back over his shoulder at Sayors and said something that chilled the interviewer to the core:

"So tell everyone I am disappearing for now. I am a phantom."

Achievements

• 1x Tag Team Champion
  
• August 2013 Superstar of the Month (Thank you all so much!)
  
• 1x US Champion
  
• 1x X-treme Champion