Azrael stands in his laboratory, allowing his eyes to pan the interior of the room. Past inventions, still cluttering tables, like he had never left them. Ancient charms, relics and artifacts, placed neatly upon shelves, forgotten memories of adventures, long since past. Chemicals, extracts, elixirs, poisons and potions, sitting within cabinets, still ready for use. Books and scrolls, knowledge for an ever seeking mind. And the journals... all the journals, neatly kept records, reminders and cautions, so he'd always remember and never make the same mistake twice. Then there were the robots, fond mechanical friends, from the days when he needed aid in verbal communication. That moment seemed so long ago now. Lastly there were the cages, two wrought iron cages to be exact, that hung menacingly from the ceiling, stark calling cards from the days when his art of science went in the direction of mad.


This was his life beyond the XWF. A long life, through mystery and wonder. Madness and intrigue. If the room could speak it would tell the story of a curious traveler, who never stopped thinking or questioning. A tale of a man that would journey across space, to the edge of the universe, just to see if he could. Or travel back to the beginning of time because he wanted to see how the story started, only to zoom to the end cause every good story had one and he was an impatient sort of spaceman that wasn't big on waiting. Yes, this yarn would speak of a fellow from the stars, bending reality, for the simple fact that he could. Reaching into paintings in order to pull out apples or lifting another gentleman's hat, to reveal a cup of tea. Mere mischief. Antics. Though there were other times that weren't meant for laughs.


If only this room could talk, it would tell anyone explicitly, that whether you call him Satellite, Supernova, or his true title Azrael Erebus, the universe knew him as many different things and it was you that decided upon which was seen. For most he was a savior and someone that never turned his back on the word - Help. To others he was fear and rage incarnate, coming down with the fury of a million firestorms, your worst nightmare and the brutal wrath of a battalion of warlords. Then there was the destroyer of worlds, when the flames of his anger consumed even him and he utterly lost control. Finally, of course, there was the lover or friend, when his impulsive nature led command, it didn't matter which you were to him, all that was important was that you understood to expect the unexpected and then you were all good..


However, the room cannot talk, after all... in reality, it's only a room full of stuff. If it started carrying on about Azrael Erebus, most would think themselves mad or blame ghosts. Though, perhaps in a way there were ghosts that did dwell here. Spirits from long ago that now haunt a room belonging to the ancient man who came from the stars. A man that lived a far longer life than most and who's adventure was far from over. Azrael permitted a soft chuckle to emit from his lips as he shook his head. What could possibly be next in his agenda? He had already seen so much within his lifetime. Battles that were won and lost. Love, hate, sorrow and joy. Life and death... so much death. Far more than any mere mortal man would ever observe, Azrael witnessed it all. He remained the constant, in a sea of change. Through storm or calm waters. He was still there, seemingly unblemished and continuing onward. However, past the untarnished facade and charming bravado, the scars ran deep. As deep and as long as time itself. They would carry forth as well, till the day Azrael could no longer bear the brunt of it all. When the weight would suddenly become much too heavy and he would be able to withstand it, no more.


Though, that day was far yet to come.


No, this road that Azrael has been traveling on, had many more miles to go. There was still so much to tell, see and experience. Discoveries to be made and explorations into the unknown. Through galaxies uncharted, moments in time that haven't been observed and the darkest, most remarkable, drastically beautiful dreams that have never been witnessed. Not yet anyway. When reality remains a polite suggestion and an open mind stays the key, to survival, understanding and everything in-between. The only destination that is of certain for this enchanting, mysterious, amazing man who knew no limits or boundaries is that the next stop was... anywhere.


After a brief moment of reflection and a glance onto who he once was and with great aspiration of all that he had yet to become, Azrael turned and exited his laboratory.





"Since my opponents were kind enough to share their thoughts about me, I think I'll give the common courtesy towards them and return the favor. Starting with Ms. Hyde, since she obviously is the more intriguing of the two. I find her to be incredibly... fascinating."


"Alright. First off. Ms. Hyde, you were interested in the way I came to Earth. Why Earth? Why wrestle for the XWF? Why deal with all these inept humans? From what I remember, these were the basic ideas of inquiry. Anyway, in regards to Earth and why it is that I come to be here, I'd truthfully have to say that it was due to randomness. Though, there wasn't any crashing involved. See, I can teleport through, space, time, dimension and reality, at will. So, in my travels and exploration, I came across Earth. Haha. That's really about it. There was no particular rhyme or reason behind it, Earth is simply one of the planets that I've encountered. The only difference being that, I chose to make Earth my sort of base of operations. In other words, Earth is the planet that I'll keep returning to since I made a home here."


"I have properties all over the world actually. Merely because I've been around for quite some time, I enjoy exploring and it's rather nice to have a warm bed and a place to hang your hat after a long day of investigating. I look rather exceptional for my age cause my kind doesn't age as rapidly as earthlings do and because I took on a Gaea. That's a lifeform that's used to control and navigate spacecrafts from Ozuul. My homeworld. I took one of those ships for a ride once, many moons ago and promptly crashed. After the crash, it came into contact with me and merged with my essence. The Gaea aids in rejuvenation, repair, regeneration and restoration. In other words, I don't physically age. My injuries will mend themselves. I'm immune to illness and poison. If someone cuts off a limb I can grow it back. In fact, I'm fairly certain, that at present date, I've lost at least one of each body part, with the exception of my head. And if I die, I can return to life. I also can't get your species pregnant... well, not without extra steps. Steps beyond being intimate and leaning more towards magic."


"Moving on..."


"I wrestle for the XWF because it entertains me. I enjoy a good battle, sometimes they occur here. I've also encountered beings in the past that spark my interest. For various reasons. Observing and studying beings or things that I find curious or captivating is sort of my hobby. Among other things. It's all part of being a voyager. I enjoy adventure, travel, discovery and encountering those that challenge thought and provide an argument for misconception. While Earth does have a vast number of inane, brain addled nincompoops, there are others that prove otherwise. Yourself included. Which is why I deal with the rest. For every moron there's someone magnificent. I feel that's enough reason to stick around. Plus Earth offers far more than humans to observe or uncover. There are many mysteries upon this planet that exist well beyond the mortal man's perspective. I like to seek them out on a regular basis. So there's also that."


"Anyhow, as far as this match goes. Like I've mentioned before, I'm a man. I identify as a man because I have a dick. Not sure where the whole genderless thing came from. I mean, I wrestled here in the past and that was never a thing. Management and fellow wrestlers, knew me as a man. I actually had a few public relationships with humans within the company, all of which supported the fact that I'm a man. This strange, new definition that has befallen me, comes out of no where and is both unjustified and false. Now, I'm being forced to have a sweaty, bumbling, chicken parm loving, simpleton molest me, live in the middle of the ring because Vinnie Lane booked me in this match. Due to being something that's backed by zero evidence. I didn't ask for this fight. I threw my hat in the proverbial ring in order to be placed within a match... yes, but I never once said, 'Hey, Vinnie. Hook it up on that Bombshell title. I want to see if I can qualify to win it.'."


"Honestly, if it stops all this madness, I'll forfeit. I've held almost every title within this company with the exceptions of the US title, that was retired by Jessie Diaz and the Crown, which was retired by Dr. DeVille. I really don't want or need the women's championship. For me, this match is nothing more than a lark. A joke. So if I can avoid Peter Gilmour's floppy, fish hand, which I'm picturing is always wet and clammy, for some reason. Most likely a disgusting one. I don't know why? He just projects that. I'll do it. Not because I'm a prude or that I have a hang up about another man touching my junk. That's not it at all. I've had a lot of sex over the years. I'm not picky either. I've slept with men, women, beings that carry both traits and others that have neither. I once fucked a tentacle monster. I've had sex with a being that seemed like it was made entirely out of dissolve proof J-ello. There wasn't any hole for you to enter, you just picked a spot and slipped your dick in, it was surprisingly enjoyable. Anyway, the point is this, I'm not a picky guy. Still, I find Peter (and Vinnie Lane) highly repulsive. Wouldn't touch 'em with my cock, even if I was shot up with elephant tranquilizers. It wouldn't happen. Period."


"This whole fucked up, side-show attraction that I'm being forced into is something out of my nightmares. It's also extremely sexist and speciesist. Because it wouldn't be going down if I was a human woman. Which then proves that Vinnie Lane knows that I'm a man. He just really wants to see Peter Gilmour molest me in the middle of the ring. Real disturbing stuff when you think about it. Why does he want this again? Oh yeah, so I can fight in a match that he decided I should participate within. I fear I'm on a merry-go-round of gobbledygook here cause I keep going around in circles that don't make sense."


"Enough on that though. I think I've made myself abundantly clear. With that being the case, Ms. Hyde, since you obviously want the Bombshell title. If I'm forced to participate and I win. You can have my spot. It's yours. Like I said, I've won my share of titles in the past. I don't need a chance to win a strap that's nothing more than a joke to me. I'm not yearning or desiring to own the Bombshell title. Not that I ever did that for any title. Their importance doesn't hold the weight that they seem to do with humans, for me. I merely wrestled and obtained them. Really nothing past that. Though it is rather amusing to fight a human that's determined to win a title and then prevent them from doing so, that's fucking hilarious. I think if there's anything about winning titles that I can truly appreciate, it would be depriving arrogant assholes of obtaining them. Hahaha! Wow. I can't get enough of that and maybe, someday I'll actually have the chance to do that again. The Bombshell title not being one of those titles."


"I believe, I dedicated enough time to Ms. Hyde. On to Jenny Myst. I sincerely look forward to seeing you smashed into the canvas. You're nothing more than a walking mattress. A human doorknob, I'm sure everyone's gotten a turn. Hopefully, from behind, in the dark or after you placed a bag over your head. For those unfortunate earthlings that did experience visiting the grand chasm known as your pussy, I also hope you provided a map and at least sprayed some Febreeze down there. You know, for the stench. I imagine it gets quite ripe down in death valley after a few rounds of drilling for oil. I'm picturing, the stink of cheese, desperation and aborted fetuses. So hopefully you keep that somewhat maintained. Hang an air freshener at least."


"Other than that, I really have nothing to say to you. You're not even a blip on my radar, you don't stimulate me and frankly, I find you to be rather dull at best. You're boring, a cookie cutter mold of probably a million women that I've encountered over my long lifetime and you're stupid. Really, really stupid. Like I'm surprised that you didn't take yourself out of the equation of life by this point in time dumb. Your internal struggle of what to become? I have a suggestion. A mortician's next payday. In other words... please kill yourself. Now. Before you decide to do something even more broken brained than usual and choose to keep one of those pregnancies that normally have you passing through the doors of Planned Parenthood like a turnstile at someone's favorite roller coaster. Other than that, I guess I'll enjoy seeing you lose. Regardless of how it happens, it'll be funny. The little whore that couldn't, picking up another loss in wrestling and really in life because it once again proves that the only time.... and I mean the only time, she'll ever score something big is when she's getting fucked by the poor sods that can't pay more than five bucks to stick their dick in something."

2x Universal Champion (First reign was less than a day though, lol. Due to Sebastian Duke cashing in his briefcase.)
2x Tag Team Champion
3x Triple Tag Team Champion
1x Television Champion
2x US Champion (Title retired during my second reign as champ.)
2x X-Treme Champion
1x Bombshell Champion
2x HMW Champion
2x SOTM