“This…isn't what I wanted.”

We open up inside a dark warehouse. Sitting at the top of a ladder is Centurion, illuminated by a kerosene lantern hanging off the side of the top rung of the ladder. He is in a full suit, looking directly down the front of the camera.

“I have made that plainly obvious from the very beginning. See, when I lost my Anarchy Title, I was not filled with rage for you, Sean Parker. As a matter of fact, I was happy for you. I've seen the work you have put in since coming to the XWF, and it did not surprise me one bit to see you become a champion.

I was happy to just sit back and watch you lead this brand for a while. I wanted to see what you'd do with it. As a fan of Anarchy, and as a fan of wrestling in general, I was curious to see where we would be as your reign moved along. Meanwhile, I was prepared to finish some unfinished business, and finally rid this place of some toxic elements that continuously plagues this company.

Of course, Jett Sterling had other ideas.”

Centurion reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a cigar. He sniffs it once before pulling out a Zippo lighter.

“Normally you would use a wood match to light these, but I figured lugging a box of matches up here would be overkill.”

Centurion opens the lighter and flicks it on before placing the cigar in his mouth and lighting it. He takes a few puffs of the cigar before closing the lighter and sliding it back into his jacket pocket.

“I'm not a stupid person, despite what my kid may tell people sometimes. Jett doesn't want to deliver Madison Dyson to me, so instead, he cooks up a scheme to get me out of the way. He books me in a number one contenders match that he knows I'm going to win, therefore making me turn my attention to Sean Parker; however, he doesn't want me to be the champion, so he books it in a ladder match, hoping I'll get beaten down and humiliated, and eventually run out of Anarchy.

Did I miss anything, Jett? Maybe you're going to surprise me with Madison Dyson popping up from under the ring and shoving my ass through a flaming barbed wire table or some shit, then sitting back and going “well golly gee, I didn't know she was there!”

Centurion shakes his head as he takes another hit of his cigar. He looks up towards the ceiling as he exhales the smoke.

“There's a flaw in your plan, though, Jett. I know you think I'm old as dirt and incapable of doing anything beyond an armbar, but I'm actually pretty good at ladder matches. I'm comfortable up here. I'm not afraid to plummet 20 feet onto the floor, because I've done it many times before and I'll likely do it many times after. But Sean Parker? Sure, he's been very impressive in the ring thus far, but when the lights are shining brightest and all of the adversity is pushing against him? Then how will he react? I don't know, Jett…and you don't, either.”

Centurion climbs down from the ladder before flicking the cigar, causing the ashes to fall onto the cement floor.

“You're a gambling man, Jett. The probably is, you're terrible at it. I can see by the way you've booked this entire thing. You were betting on me completely forgetting about the shit you and Madison pulled over the past month, hoping the allure of the gold would be enough to pull me away from my revenge tour. You were hoping the match itself would be enough to spark some sort of blood feud between Sean and I, forgetting that we're both grown ass adults that know how to navigate this business and understand when someone is trying to pull strings. And now you're gambling on the idea that there is NO WAY I can possibly win this match.

Welp, sorry to say, but you're going 0 for 3 on this one.

Because while beating up Sean Parker isn't really a motivating factor for me, seeing the look on your stupid ass face when I pull that title down from the rafters is. Walking into Anarchy with a title around my waist and a smile on my face is. Knowing that you'll have to spend every second of your day thinking of me as your champion is all the motivation I'll need to sprint up that God damn ladder.”

Centurion takes another puff of his cigar before placing it on a stand next to him.

“So don't worry, Sean. While you weren't my first priority, you won't have to worry about me coming into this match without any motivation. You're going to get me at my best and most focused, which is exactly what you wanted. So remember, when this event is all over, and you're boarding the plane with no title belt to speak of, there may be a lot of people you can blame - me, Jett, Madison, every wrestler in Anarchy - but in the end, the person you need to blame most is yourself.”

Centurion turns around and faces the ladder he was standing on earlier. He looks up at the top, then walks to the side and grabs the lantern from the top rung. He then looks at it up and down before chopping the bar that keeps the ladder unfolded. The ladder folds together and falls to the ground, causing a loud crash to echo throughout the warehouse. Centurion turns to the camera and lifts the lantern to his face, leaving it as the only thing lit up in the entire building. Centurion lifts the lantern to his face and looks to say something else, but instead, he just gives a wild grin before turning the lamp off, causing complete darkness.