The Return of The Crimson Face
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09-30-2014, 09:46 AM
Hello again, world
Testing, testing… three, six, twelve; is this thing on?
Tap tap tap - the sound of Evertrust tapping his index finger against the small hole labeled "mic" on the device that most closely resembles a mini cassette recorder. Standing horizontally with his feet planted against a wall that seems to have stairs coming out of it, he continues.
Well here we are again, X-treme Wrestling Federation——remember me? It's been a while since I've shown my face around here, depending of course on how you choose to delineate "my face" in your minds. If you are of the impression that staring at a mask of crimson with an elongated olfactory organ is indeed seeing my face, you're both right and wrong at the same time.
Speaking of time; we don't have much of it, so I'm going to go ahead and jump right into this with the assumption that many of you all are already well acquainted with the one known as The Crimson Face. For those who have been living under a rock for the past few weeks, The Crimson Face is the one who is directly responsible for Shades becoming your Universal Champion a couple weeks ago.
To the naked eye The Crimson Face appeared to merely re-energize Shades before Shades had to fight Eli James, but to the all seeing eye The Crimson Face played a much larger role in the events surrounding that acquisition——he encrypted it beyond the risk of corruption. You see there are certain forces in and beyond your metaphysical existence that can sometimes tarnish or even completely reverse a moment in these preconceived time lines you all embrace as the only way. In the past I've often spoken of how your minds have been trained to accept so, so, so many aspects of your lives as just being the way it has to be but the night of Eli James relinquishing his gold to Shades was one of those rare moments where it really was the only way it was ever going to be.
Step by step, string by string, a perfectly irrefutable scenario was hand crafted through my will, into and executed by the ever weaving hands of My Crimson Face. To all of you he is the one, the only; he is The Crimson Face. To me though? In my "world" if I were to downgrade my place of origins to a dumbed down word you'd all understand? There, he is one of many. There, my copy is best described as My Crimson Face. The easiest way for me to turn this into terms you'd all understand is to ask you to imagine something like a video game, savvy? Even those of you who don't partake in video games can probably understand their purpose——to entertain on a scale not reachable on a mentally individual plane. You understand that those video games transmit signals into the mind that bring stimulation; they can bring forth feelings of excitement, frustration, and even in some cases a synthetic variation of love if the user allows for it. Quite simply, passion is elicited in one form or another in a time and place that otherwise would have been void of those feelings on your own.
I want you to think of this place, this reality or universe as you know it, as if it were all one big video game. I know the notion is somewhat childish and preposterous, but it's the easiest way of bringing you to understand. Just try to open your minds to the possibility of what it would be like if that were the case. Now, with the understanding of your entire reality being but a mere game, doesn't that start to make you wonder what lies beyond that encasing? Do you begin to wonder just who, exactly, is playing this game and what their goals may be?
There are many answers to those questions, but as soon as I remind you all that I'm a human being, things become even more confusing. You must remind yourself that there are "video games" that are incredibly fantasy based as well as some that are intended to mimic reality in a nearly flawless manner. I am human, and I come from a place much like this Earth you've all been programmed to accept as uniquely authentic, but what if I told you this was all just an imitation of reality? What if you allowed yourself to understand that there can be a such thing as realities beyond reality? With this in mind, allow me to introduce myself as the one who has learned to compress different realities into one. I have hacked into realities that my kind were never even meant to discover, and I've pulled things through that my kind were never intended to control.
This is where The Crimson Face comes in——he is what we refer to as what can best be described as a true, astrophysical and hyperphysical coder. An otherwise peaceful being but rather easy to gain control of for someone of my immense array of abilities. He can mend broken dreams of physical beings, manipulate the paths you all know as time lines, and even shift between realities at will or script entirely new ones if deemed necessary. He can bind himself to a physical embodiment for any number of reasons or he can release himself from the confines of his flesh and bone vessel.
I, a mere human from another frame of existence, have managed to hack my will into his home realm and pull him into a state of being fully understood and controlled by me. Again; My Crimson Face. There are not many who can accomplish what I can, but when we do, we claim complete and eternal ownership over the one we bring through into servitude. Now you understand that if you were to look at this reality of yours as a game, My Crimson Face would be the character I have injected or hacked in to your reality and am controlling to do my bidding; to manipulate this virtual environment for my own personal reasons. Call it passion, sure.
That brings us to the next piece of our puzzle: How I'm here is by believing in me. This body you see before you with these cold blue eyes is a human being who was born on this planet and has grown from childhood, but the mind inside of this body is one that just recently broke through again. Some time ago, back in your incorrectly labeled July of 2013, I broke through on a partial level that allowed me only very limited access. I needed to see how powerfully my interactions could be received by the people of this reality, so I took part in a tournament in this very XWF——a one night tournament I went on to win on Monday Madness. After that, I was granted a shot at the European Championship, and so I left instead of taking that championship. Some of you may remember my body being present after winning the original tournament, but what I'm saying is the consciousness that was controlling this body——the version of me from a reality beyond reality——had already exited the scene. I had acquired the knowledge I sought out at that time and was already preparing for my next run; one that would see me be able to introduce powers beyond most humans' understanding and belief, even though back in July of 2013 I wasn't able to demonstrate those abilities to you all just yet.
When I managed to pull My Crimson Face into my own reality, program him to crash through into yours, and use him to perform otherworldly functions before your very eyes, I convinced you all that those things——actions demanded by my will——could be accomplished in your reality. I used the XWF in order to be sure these demonstrations would reach a mass audience, because the more of you who I'd convinced of these abilities, the faster I'd be able to reach the next step and bring my own consciousness back in to work side by side with My Crimson Face which, to sway back to the video game example, would be like putting yourself right there inside of whatever video game you love playing and now you can finally, physically work with your chosen character. No more having to control them from afar and hope the reaction time is accurate. No more having to worry about the restrictions and delays set forth by sending commands into a world that wasn't actually your own. Can you imagine? Are you starting to understand the power I possess because I created it? Here we are in your reality, My Crimson Face and myself, and you're all but a game to me. I'm here because I want to be. I desire to see how far I can take this, how much of your Earth wealth I can attain, how many of you I can manipulate either as allies or as foes, and how close to finish line I can get; can I make it all the way to the end of your reality this time? Oh, and trust me, there is an end.
One immediate goal rests upon my mind at this current moment in time, however. Tomorrow is the next installment of the XWF's Wednesday Warfare and My Crimson Face is matched up against the one called RoboWrestler1; a truly fascinating creature if you really think about how limited much of your reality is, but an insult to true creativity when someone of my stature and experience looks down at him. I had My Crimson Face challenge RoboWrestler1 to a battle in which the loser will give all of his worldly wealth to the victor, and his obnoxious ramblings about getting paid allowed him to march right into the path of financial oblivion. I find it amusing that this reality contains a robot obsessed with money; I almost wonder if he's being controlled by an entity of a higher state of existence, but even if he is, there's no way that other party is anywhere close to possessing the same payload of supernumerary cognition that I dominate.
Tomorrow night I will be at ringside, or perhaps even watching from the back somewhere, and I'll be watching as my character who you've all come to know and fear as The Crimson Face completely and utterly manhandles RoboWrestler1, or I suppose RoboHandle would be the better term for it. My only regret is that I will need to make sure My Crimson Face doesn't completely disarm and deactivate the scrapyard abomination because Shades, the one who I've allowed to believe has some say over My Crimson Face's actions, has asked that we allow RoboWrestler1 to assist in the anti-cash-in brigade… and for now, the Universal Champion does play a role I've not explained to all of you and likely never will, so he's going to get what he wants.
Do you remember my old saying, anyone? It was very simple: {'You don't know'} And it's true; you do not. Everything you are aware of is something that has been programmed into your minds, but there is nothing any of you outwardly know except for one very important thing. Every last one of you, from the Peter Gilmours all the way down to the Loverboys, are just components of a game I find entertaining. You're copies; imitations of the real human beings who didn't have large percentages of their brains disabled at birth. You're flawed reflections of a real life that none of you, or next to none of you anyway, will ever actually be able to experience.
And the beauty of it all? The thing I find most welcoming? Is the fact that if one of your own were to ascend to an understanding of how this reality is simply encoded threading——a reference the pallid and emaciated Vincent Lane will never understand——you'd simply condemn them and refer to them as quacks. This is going to be an exciting run, my play things. Get ready to understand why me ripping the Xtreme Championship away from Lane was just the beginning, and why my physically horrendous thrashing of Morbid Angel's Earth body will only be a test. Everyone seems to love the idea of Morbid Angel when he's not around, but once he returns people quickly stop caring again because the routine of claiming losses as victories gets old after he shouts it in your face a dozen times. Don't worry, Morbid Angel; I'll make them care about you. Never again will you have to ask yourself this depressing question:
But first, on to matters much more valuable than you——the art of taking RoboWrestler1 for all it is worth.
My Crimson Face is ready, and ohhh… so am I.
So
am
I
Let the weightlessness crusade…… continue.
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