Realising his cover had been blown, Smoke runs through the door, but is blindsided with a boot to his injured arm. He collapses to the ground, grabbing his arm in agony.

You just had to go snooping around, didn't you?

Smoke looks up and sees a familiar face. It takes a second, but Smoke has a startling realisation as to who it is. After a throaty cough, he sputters the name out of his mouth like a rotten piece apple.

Scott.

Scott Manly, the Canadian from DWA. He looks different, which can be mainly attributed to his haircut, which is significantly shorter than before, yet still that striking blonde colour. He is also wearing a suit, which is pretty unusual for him, considering how Smoke had always known him as the type to prefer hoodies.



Hmm, glad you remember me Smokey, the guy who gave you your whole identity in the first place. If it weren't for me you would still be back in the scum-hole that you call 'home'.

That hit Smoke hard. He wanted to lash out at Scott but just couldn't. Scott does notice this, and puts his boot on Smoke's arm, slightly pushing it down a little to inflict all the more pain, which causes Smoke to cry out.

Yeah, scream, you little bitch.

Scott.

Scott looks across the room, and Smoke does the same, still wincing at the pain surging through his arm. He sees a figure, which he assumes to be his brother; Ed, standing in front of a wall of computer monitors, silhouetted by the light.

I don't think our 'guest' deserves that kind of treatment.

Scott almost growls.

After what he did!? Trust me, he does. And he deserves a whole lot worse, too.

Ed swivels his head to look over his shoulder.

Calm down, Scott. Right now the only thing he deserves is an explanation.

In answer to this, Scott smirks, and digs the front of his shoe even further into Smoke's shoulder. A yelp soon follows.

Since when do I take orders from you, Teej? I've always been better than you. Maybe we haven't seen each other for years, but I know you're still as weak as always.

Ed turns and walks over to Scott, his fists balled in anger.

Scott, I know that we have some bad blood, and I know how to feel, trust me. But the last thing we need is trouble if we want to finish what we have started. And at the end of the day, Daniel is my brother, and I at least owe him a reason.

Scott lifts his foot from digging into Smoke's shoulder, but it's still perched on Smoke's side.

And you think I give a shit?

Ed looks at him intently in the eye, with his eyebrows raised.

You should.

Knowing his 'partner' won't yield, Scott spits at the floor and walks across the room, flopping into a swivel-chair near the set of monitors. Ed looks over his brother and sighs. He kneels down and helps his brother sit in the upright position, against the wall. Smoke is looking hazy at best, staring through the blurred slit formed by his eyelids.

Ed looks at Smoke for a few seconds, and without so much as blinking, slaps him across the face.

Hard.

Smoke just sits there and accepts it, facing the ground after his neck had rolled at the rebound.

Helpless.

Weak.

Pathetic.

Ed stands, walking around the perimeter of the room, being sure to properly close the door as he does.

So you want answers, Daniel. You want to know... why all of this has happened to you and, as always, your brother has the solution.

Smoke spits out a blot of blood. He looks cranes his neck and looks at Ed, breathing heavily. Wheezing, he ever so slowly draws out his response.

Who... wh... who did... who did it...

Ed smiles a somewhat grim smile, and half-turns, showing Scott, who smiles as he sits, rocking to and fro in his chair. Scott starts mumbling a psychotic laughter.

H... how..?

How is not important, Dan. What is important is why, and I'm sure you would agree with me in that regard.

Do you remember all those years ago? Back when even I was still in this whole wrestling business? I had that opportunity that I'd worked my entire career on, and you had just thrown it out the window in an act of jealous retribution.

Regardless of what you heard or assumed before, that was why I stopped wrestling, because I understood that despite my anger, there was a reason you had done what you done and, all things considered, it was fair of you.

Then you moved to America, after three years of being the top dog in an obscure business, you thought you could reach the big leagues. When you did, I undoubtedly supported you. And, well, you know what happened next. I was to return home, and you ignored my attempt to make amends with you before I left, you selfish bastard.

It was at that moment I realised how self-involved you had been, how you had chosen to put yourself before family and friends who were willingly open to help, and support you.

Of course, when you decided to show your face back home, I was invited to come along. But instead of taking a flight to good ol' England, I came here. I followed you home, I stole your apartment key. I found your number and sent that text to you.

It was all me.

Ed sighs.

But when it came to it; the big curtain call in my master plan... I couldn't do it. I wanted to get back so badly, but I didn't know if I was too far. But luckily; Scott was just a phone call away from doing it for me.

And we did. We watched your apartment burn. And since then we've been here, tucked away in the security room of the arena, watching you toil about with the boss and your pathetic problems; like our very own version of Big Brother.

Smoke has another coughing fit.

Asshole.

Again Ed sighs.

Again with the selfish attitude, Dan. You need to sort yourself out. And soon. Otherwise you're just going to fall behind when the day comes.

Ed looks over to Scott, who stands from his chair. Scott walks over to Smoke and kneels in front of him. He speaks quietly, almost whispering.

After you left the DWA went in decline. Less people started showing up and, well, we couldn't keep afloat. I guess your big-headed attitude would like to know that we could not survive without you, Smoke. Your departure lead to the eventual downfall of the DWA.

But it shall live on.

Scott stands and circles back around to stand beside Ed, propping himself up against the wall.

When your dear brother contacted me over the phone he brought up another option... almost as if he didn't expect me to want that retribution.

He told me of an idea. A real idea. A plan.

The DWA was born, lived, and it died in the wallows of mediocrity, in... nothingness. But now? It shall thrive.

Starting from now, you will slowly be watching the beginning of the end of the XWF. And just like your apartment, it will burn, to, ashes. And our of those ashes will rise a phoenix.

The re-birth of the DWA.

Scott walks back across the room, opening the door and leaving.

Ed is not that far behind him. He turns off the lights, leaving Smoke in all but total darkness. Before closing the door, he says one last thing.

It's time for the Doomsday to begin.

And with that, the door swings shut.

And Smoke can finally be unconscious in peace.