Corey found solace below the waters, as if the thin membrane of liquid above his head could shield him from all his woes. It was foolish of course, but he had always felt at home in water. He was taught to swim by his father at age 5. And that thought brought with it a momentary pang of sadness, because while Corey’s family was still very much alive, it was impossible for him to see him due to the fact that a younger “him” already existed in this timeline.

In the past, Corey had considered chancing approaching his younger self to forewarn him of the challenges and choices coming his way. In so doing, he could reconstitute himself with a clean slate and avoid the poor choices he had made in his teens. But the nature of time was fluid, as Lux had taught him. And altering his past in any way would certainly have changed his future. Corey often wondered if it would have made it easier or more difficult.

He knew one thing for certain, he was definitely making things more difficult on himself now. Almost falling into drug use again, cheating on Pan with Joachim. Corey was a veritable maelstrom of feelings in the wake of the destruction of his home. And some of the choices he made amidst the chaos had been poor to say the least.

To that end, Corey tried to just focus on the swim. Measuring his strokes, hitting the kick flip against the wall to launch himself into another lap. He was at a local Seattle area YMCA. He could have chosen the hotel pool, but something inside him craved being around others. Perhaps he didnt want to be alone with his problems. Perhaps he feared being alone in general.

As Corey propelled himself off the wall once again, he caught sight of someone standing on the deck, looking down at him. Corey stopped short, wondering who it could be but unable to discern any features due to the droplets coalescing on his goggles. Corey removed them, and a bitter cold chunk of ice formed in his gut.

It was The Engineer.

Still in the body of that same overweight middle aged man that Corey didn’t recognize, the monster smiled and waved at Corey.

Corey looked around at the others in the pool area. He figured there had to be at least 40. A children’s swim class was taking place a couple lanes down from him. No, not here. Corey begged off inwardly.

Looking up at the intruder, Corey asked brusequely, What do you want?

To stop in and check on you, of course.

Checking to ensure no one was listening in, Corey continued. Spare me. And you know what, I pieced something together. Right before Duncan Light died he said someone was talking to him inside his head. I figured it was an Engineer, but I also figured The Engineer would die with him. But it didnt, did it? You were in Duncan weren’t you?

Took you long enough.

Corey ignored the barb. So you put a weapon to my best friend’s throat and expect me to ally with you? I didn’t realize it was possible for an artificial intelligence to be so fucking delusional but here we are.

You may want to watch your mouth Corey. There are children present. 18 by my exact count.

The threat there was unmistakeable.

These people have nothing to do with us. Leave them alone.

You think I’m stupid enough to make a scene?

Perhaps not, but I know your vicious enough to jeopardize innocent life. I’m getting out. Corey heaved himself out of the pool, going to the nearby bench and grabbing his towel. Beside him, a mother was watching her children in the kiddie pool nearby. The Engineer sat right beside her, and Corey grimaced.

…do you have to do that? He whispered.

Do what? As far as they know I’m just like any of them. The Engineer hissed back. Then, patting a spot on the bench next to them, they invited Corey to sit.

Corey begrudgingly accepted the invitation and had a seat, towel draped over his still wet shoulders. How did you find me anyway?

As Duncan would have said, “I’m real good at lurkin’.”

That doesn’t answer my question.

No, I suppose it doesn’t. The way the Engineer said those words made it clear no further clarification was coming. I know you’ve considered my offer.

Corey shook his head. You’d be wrong. How could you possibly expect me to consider joining with you? And besides, if you really wanted a host there are literally millions of other athletes, fighters, what have you, out there you could bond with. Why does it have to be me?

Because you’ve already been bound to one of us before, Corey. It would make a rebinding process much easier. It may surprise you to know that the process isn’t as simple as you think. I have a lot of limitations in this body that I wouldn’t have in yours. And it’s not just because of this body’s fitness, or lack thereof.

Who is he? The body you’re in.

Does it matter?

It matters to me.

The Engineer sighed, like they were entertaining a spurious query. He’s the medical examiner that was conducting the autopsy on Duncan Light’s body.

So an easy, available target? I’m sure he didn’t sign on with you willingly.

No, but I needed somewhere to go. Once I have you I will release him, no harm done.

No harm done, eh? Corey questioned sardonically. Christ, you don’t get it. He opted to change the subject. So, about Duncan. Are there more of him? Did you and whoever you work for clone Dexter Bright because he was easy to bond with too? Because he was simple?

That’s something I can’t answer.

So you want on Team Corey but you’re unwilling to provide me any information? You know, you’re not exactly endearing yourself to me.

The Engineer sighed again. Fine. The way the form in front of Corey bristled made it clear he had won this battle. There are more Dexter Bright’s out there. They were created because of his simplicity and destructive capability.

So you’re using them?

They make good hosts.

Tell me who you work for. Somebody has to be funding all this shit. Is it Madison Dyson? It can’t be Shane I know his company went tits up.

It’s neither of them. I work for a new investor. Someone who was able to pick up the Engineer nanotech design for a song and a dance when the aforementioned company went “tits up”, to use your parlance.

So a new monster has entered the equation? Great. What’s their goal?

You are treading into deep waters Corey.

Corey snorted. I’ve been treading out into deep waters my whole life. So what else is new. Now answer the damn question.

I cannot. It’s something you would learn after completing the bonding process with me. But for proprietary reasons I can’t disclose that information before we have you on board as an asset.

“An asset”. Corey snorted derisively again. Then answer me this. Why not just take me against my will? Like you did with him?

Because the bonding process works so much better when it’s voluntary. Corey, I’m trying to do this the right way. The last Engineer was a brute. He bent you to his will. I’m different Corey. I’m trying to make you see how mutually beneficial this could be for both of us. Do you know I’m programmed with over 30 different fighting styles? That knowledge could be yours. Instantaneously. You could hold that Universal Championship forever. The hell with Mark Flynn and Bobby Bourbon. They’d never be able to wrench it from your grasp. To say nothing for Christian Andrews.

Ooooh, a fan of the product I see?

A fan of YOU, Corey. It paused. You need to think about this. You need to let this happen naturally. I’d hate to do anything untoward to get you to do it. The Engineer looked out at the civilians in the pool.

Corey grimaced. Don’t you dare threaten these people. Or anyone I care about. I swear to God I’ll destroy you.

The Engineer smiled. There’s that fighting spirit. A pause. Then you need to consider my offer if you don’t want things to get messy, huh?

So much for voluntary.

You’re not leaving me much choice. The Engineer got up. Seriously Corey. We can be so good together. And with that, it turned and walked away. Corey wasn’t daft enough to think this would be the last he’s seen of it.

Corey also took stock of the people in the pool, his anxieties mounting within him as he considered the things The Engineer could be capable of. He could lose Pan. Or Joachim again. It could go after Thad. There were so many ways Corey could be hurt.  And so many ways the people he loves could be caught in the crossfire.

Later That Day…

We see an XWF merchandise booth, one of many already set up and stocked in advance of Weekend Warfare. And not only that, but Corey Smith seems to be approaching the stand, a fat wad of cash held in his eager hand.

Hello! I'd like to purchase one LEGACY please!

The shot cuts to the booth operator, who is clearly a disguised Corey Smith wearing glasses, a cheap fake mustache, and a Roger t shirt (that guy already has merchandise? Who knew!)

Well sir I gotta say, you're absolutely in luck. We are currently running a BOGO sale on legacies.

Sweet! How much are they?

Cheap enough for a scraggly guy who's been unemployed for five years to afford.

Wow, that's pretty cheap. I'll take all the legacies you have!

The man goes under the counter and pulls out a two arm helping of scraps of paper that each read "legacy" on them.

Oh boy! Corey can't contain his unbridled joy as he picks up all the scraps and starts stuffing them into every pocket he can. He then tosses the wad of bills at the counter and high tails it before they realize he's practically stealing all these legacies!

But, as Corey runs out of the shot he passes by someone standing in the foreground. Someone who is also Corey. He chuckles good naturedly before he starts to speak.

Boy, if only it was just that easy to obtain a legacy. Christian Andrews thinks so. In fact he talks about "the legacy he left behind" all the time. And I see you all scratching your heads as you vainly try to remember the aforementioned legacy but stop…please stop. You're just going to end up frustrated and with a brain hemorrhage because it doesn't exist.

Christian's "legacy" is four matches. Four.

Fucking FOUR.

Corey holds up four fingers for emphasis and counts them off.

That's not a legacy. That's the occupational equivalent of moonlighting to make some extra scratch for the holidays.

So once again, with feeling! "Legacy: that ain't yo word."

In fact, think about how damnably insulting that is to the people who actually DO have legacies here. To the people who have slugged it out for years to carve out their own legends like initials carved into an Oak tree forevermore.

Ya know, there’s another word Christian seemed oh so fond of using: “lesson”. Oh my GOD. It was nonstop “lesson this, lesson that”. I wanted to belt it out from the rooftops “change gears motherfucker” but I’m sure he wouldn’t have heard me over the sound of his own crapulence.

Lesson, eh? So tell me more about this lesson you’re going to teach me Christian. Is it a lesson in humility? Because you’re speaking to a guy who once OD’ed on the floor of a fast food restaurant. There is nothing you can tell me about humility that I haven’t already taught myself.

Oh, oh, oh, but is it about the “growth along the way?” Ah, that tried and true after school special chestnut. Yes, Christian says that it’s not about winning or losing, but the evolution we experience in the interim. The growth, the change!

Let me tell you what I know about growth and change, Christian.

I was a teenage drug addict. I was selfish, ill tempered, and stupid. And those are the nicer terms I can use to describe myself. And then, a world class assassin uploaded herself into my brain and taught me to be better. To give a shit about people other than myself. To fight for what I believe in. And you know what?

I still fucked up. In fact, I continue to fuck up to this day. Because that growth and change you speak of like it some kind of foreign goddamn concept to me? I live it every day of my life. Every day I try to overcome my baser instincts to care for others. It’s why I spent the fortune I inherited from my greatest enemy to build a commune catering to the wayward and the lost. It’s why I struggle with so much guilt over the mistakes I’ve made in the past. It’s why part of me still feels bad that I want to fuck up Thunder Knuckles to the point he’s not even recognizable as a human being anymore.

But yeah “wise one”, please do preach to me about growth and change. You pompous ass. You think you’re my fucking “reckoning”? Bitch you’re about two years late for my reckoning. I already had it, when I reverted to my junky behavior and injected myself with a malicious artificial intelligence bent on making the world suffer. And yes, that’s a real thing that actually happened to me. Welcome to my life.

See Christian, you are chock full of these hollow platitudes about how you’re some kind of epic challenge to me. How you’re not some “relic” from the past. Which incidentally you’re actually right about that because relics are actually worth something.

The absolute EGO on you. The delusion! To think you’re somehow on par with the Mark Flynns, the Bobby Bourbons, and the Thad Duke’s. Men who were true challenges to me. True legends who did more than just stick around for a cup of coffee before dropping the XTreme championship to Bearded War Pig. And hey, you know what else is unique about those guys? They’re the only ones who’ve ever beaten me clean. Funny that, that’s ALMOST as many matches as you have period!

Christian, the cold hard fact is that YOU’RE the one who needs to worry about being prepared. Because unless you’ve spent the last five years fighting Corey Smith’s, there is absolutely nothing you’ve said or done that convinces me you’ve got a chance in hell. All we have is about ten minutes worth of bloviation about you teaching me lessons. So let me clue you in on what you need to be prepared for.

A former Xtreme Champion
A former Tag Team Champion
A former Television Champion
A former Supercontinental Champion
A Leap of Faith winner
A War Games winner
A CURRENT and REIGNING Universal Champion

Oh, and I’m also the guy who beat the greatest XWF wrestler of all time, Alias.
I’m also the guy who beat the guy who beat Alias for this Universal Championship.

My man…is it starting to hit home yet? Is the anxiety setting in? The trepidation? If it’s not, your leagues dumber than I thought. You think I’m not prepared for you? I’ve spent the last two years “preparing for you” by overcoming challenges you don’t hold a candle to.

You want to be an agent of change? You and everybody else. Get in line behind the briefcase holders, Christian. I got plenty enough wolves at my door to worry about the hare, ya feel me?

See you soon Christian. Hope this loss isn’t enough of a blow to the old ego that you dip for another five years.

Later
Elsewhere....

The laptop loaded up and before long a gruesome sight could be seen on it.

A viciously marred visage appears there, a man with flesh like patchwork and rheumy blackened eyes. The puckered mouth opens and a spiteful voice spills out of it. Mother dearest, are you there?

The shot cuts back to reveal The Engineer sitting before the laptop. I’m here, sir.

Good. The eyes aren’t exactly what they used to be, you know? He chuckles, but it’s a dry and mirthless thing. How close have you gotten to Corey Smith?

Very, Mr. Wainscott. Outwardly he’s dismissive of my offer. But he’s seething with anger inside.

Yessss….Wainscott purrs. At this Thunder Knuckles fellow. Cute name. Lousy haircut. So we got this cocksucker Corey Smith on lockdown or what?

I think so.

You think so? Or you know so?

I’m very confident, sir.

Good. Because he’s our key to getting Pan. Wainscott licks his lips, and it’s a hideous sight. I can’t wait to see his face when you turn Pan against him. The hurt. The dismay. The pathos. If I had the capacity to get hard I’d be rock solid.

The Engineer doesn’t even bat an eye at the crudity. If only it were still Lux.

And if wishes were fishes, my dear. But we’ll have to settle for ruining Corey I suppose. That little fucker’s house burning down is going to seem like a dream compared to what else is coming his way.

A thin malevolent smile etches itself across The Engineer’s lips. Of course, sir.