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Sebastian Duke · **02-28-2015, 11:44 AM**

Friday, February 27, 2015 | 10:07 AM Local Time | A Vacant Field | West of Nuremberg, Germany

The Illuminatus coup of Germany was an overwhelming success. Most of the neighboring nations have kept quiet, adopting a 'wait and see' attitude. The German people exhibit a nervous cordiality, cautious of what they do, yet showing respect when anyone from the military or the Illuminatus Regime is in sight. They rolled through Nuremberg earlier with little more than waves from the town folk. Many of those paying attention merely smiled and waved back.

The convoy comes to a stop in a nearly deserted field not far from a railway. It would be entirely deserted if not for large yellow construction equipment scattered throughout the land. The vehicles begin to empty. Much of the Illuminatus hierarchy is present.

”This should do quite marvelously,” says Asmodeus as he stands near the Chevrolet SUV, looking out into the field.

”So, I take it you liked my idea, Grandfather?” asks Thaddeus as he stands next to Asmodeus, watching the construction.

”Well,” starts out Asmodeus, ”its not like it hasn't been done before. However, this is a bit different.”

”How is that?” asks Thaddeus.

”Decades ago, similar structures were built for similar purposes.”

”You think Dad will like the name I chose?” asks Thaddeus. He's always seeking approval. Always seeking validation.

”End of Days,” Asmodeus starts out with a smile. ”It's more fitting than you probably even realize, my son.”

”When is he coming back?” Thaddeus asks of his grandfather.

”Any time now, son. He'll be meeting us here,” answers Asmodeus. ”He'll be a bit tired from his trip back, so don't fuss much around him.”

”That sport he does is so fun. I think I want to do that one day,” Thaddeus concludes.

”Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Your father went through months and months of training to become what he is. It was not all glory in the beginning. His first twenty or so contests he might have won half of them.

“But he learned from his mistakes and got better and better. Now there isn't a damn thing he can't achieve.”

”Did you watch Warfare?” Thaddeus asks, smiling from ear to ear.

”No, I did not.”

”They had this tournament for a big gold belt. He ran through everybody and won it! It's so exciting to watch him on the television.”

”These days, very few can match up to your father.”

It is at this moment that a vehicle can be heard approaching.

”Now remember what I said, don't fuss around him. He'll be tired and...” He never gets to conclude his statement. Thaddeus starts out in a sprint toward the approaching black SUV.

”DAD!” shouts Thaddeus as he approaches the black Chevrolet. The rear door opens and Thaddeus steps inside, closing the door behind him. ”I saw you on the television. That was awesome! Nobody could take you down! You were unstoppable!”

”Why are we out here, Thaddeus?” asks the obviously tired King of the Illuminatus.

”Did you bring it?” asks Thaddeus, completely ignoring his fathers inquiry.

”Bring what?”

”The belt. Did you bring the belt?” asks Thaddeus as he starts looking behind the rear seat of the SUV.

”I haven't been home, so yeah its here,” answers the King as he reaches down on the floor and unzips a large duffel bag. He retrieves the object of Thaddeus' affection and hands it to him.

”Wow. It's a nice looking belt.”

”It's not a belt, its a championship. But yeah, I guess it is kind of nice looking.”

”It's bigger than it looks on TV. Heavy too.”

”It's perception. It doesn't look so large on TV because its in a ring with full grown men.”

”Have you won many of these championships?”

”A few.”

”Is there one more special to you than the others?”

”The United States title,” says the King, quickly and convincingly.

”What made that one special?”

”It was my first championship that I won. It was the moment I felt I had arrived in the Xtreme Wrestling Federation. Winning that title, set the tone for me. I'd go on to win many others, and many matches.

“Come on, lets get out there.”

Thaddeus and his father exit the SUV, Thaddeus unwilling to part with his fathers Intercontinental Championship, drapes the title over his shoulder and follows him toward the end of the mass of vehicles where Asmodeus awaits them both.

”I see your success has not waned,” says Asmodeus as he leans on his cane.

”Never mind that. What are we doing out here? What's going on?” asks the King.

”Your sons brain child. That's what's going on here,” says Asmodeus with a slight smile.

Sebastian looks over at his beaming son. ”Well, Thaddeus,” the King starts out, ”what's happening here?”

”I call it the End of Days,” replies Thaddeus, still smiling and not giving up his fathers championship. ”We're implementing prison camps all over the country. Outwardly, we're saying they're designed to protect the Catholics from the backlash of other religions and the public in general.

“Code named End of Days, because one, it makes them, and two, it is their end. The operation calls for the extermination of the Catholics.”

Thaddeus notes the smile on his dads face.

”How many camps?” asks the King of his son.

”There's thirty two camps either fully built or being built, father,” Thaddeus answers as he readjusts the title to his other shoulder.

”How long until they're fully operational?”

”We have one outside Stuttgart, about two hours away, that is nearly at full operation. It even has some... inhabitants...”

”Then I think we should head that way.”

The Illuminatus begins to file into the vehicles and pull away. Thaddeus of course, stays with his father.

”What method are we using for the ultimate result in this End of Days operation?” asks the King as the convoy of government and military vehicles navigate back toward the main roads.

”Method? I don't know what you mean,” Thaddeus says as he finally lays down the Intercontinental title.

”You said we're exterminating Catholics,” Duke says to Thaddeus. ”How are we accomplishing that?”

”Oh, that. We're using your favorite method,” Thaddeus pauses before concluding, ”Fire.”

Sebastian laughs lightly for a second, ”you are destined for greatness, kiddo.”

Thaddeus smiles, being completely happy with himself that he made his father happy.

I hate to say I told you so, but...

Actually, I don't hate it at all. In fact I love rubbing each and every one of your noses in it. On Warfare I proved that without a doubt, I still got it. I proved without a doubt that I'm still the mother fucking measuring stick. I always have been and I always will be.

What did I get out of proving everyone wrong? Another golden clad piece of hardware to add to the collection.
He holds up the XWF Intercontinental Championship, then promptly tosses it onto the ground.

It's become evident to me, that I was wrong. I was wrong about wanting to step into the ring with all these new players. I was wrong about wanting to come back. I was wrong about Justin Sane because evidently, he's not the future of this business.

Not only did he not win the Tag Team Championship he holds, he also didn't win the Xtreme Championship he holds. Not to mention the fact he couldn't win the Intercontinental title against someone that was supposedly 'old and outdated.'

Will no one challenge me and put up a fight? Eli wanted the fight. Until the fight was scheduled. We all know how that turned out. The King of Darkness defeated him. Soundly, might I add.

Justin Sane, Dick Desmond and Austin Fernando all wanted that fight. Fernando never made it out of the second round. Desmond hit the dirt harder than Pest pounds under-aged scrotum. And Sane? He was a total waste of time. The entire tournament was a huge disappointment. It has me thinking very seriously of selling this piece of shit title. It has me contemplating retirement. Why? Because the new class of XWF stars may as well be the old class. It always ends the same way, more often than not, in a Sebastian Duke victory.

Of course, if I retired, I wouldn't again have the opportunity to destroy all of your hopes and dreams in an instant just by showing the fuck up.

I told you so.

I am the measuring stick, and I always will be. The sooner you all accept that fact, the better off you all will be.

Pest, let's make a few things perfectly clear. You know nothing of me and what makes me tick. You and I are nothing alike. What's more, is we never will be. Don't you ever insinuate otherwise. You do so at your own peril. I do not wish to end childrens lives. There was a point in my past where, yeah, I may have taken some young lives. It is a fact that I'm not proud of.

You talk about the King of Darkness and me clinging to the past, then claim it will be my downfall. Yet you cling to my past failures, Pest. You make mention of some of my most public failures, yet you claim that my past will be my downfall? You can't have your cake and eat it too, Pest. You can't condemn me for clinging to pieces of my past when you are also clinging to pieces of my past.

The difference between me reiterating my past is that its still relevant, no matter what many of you would like to force everyone to believe.

You point out that my failures are due to me not caring anymore when the fact of the matter is that I never cared and I never will. I don't care when I win and I don't care when I lose. I'm a mortal man capable of defeat. Trust me Pest, defeating me is something you'll never be capable of doing. Not now, not ever. You just don't have it in you to hang with the big boys.

Answer me one question, Pest. Why would I pay Eli to not show up? I have always known that I'm better than Eli James. As we saw just a few weeks ago, the world knows it, too. Eli James now knows it as well. There's nothing wrong with not being as good as the King of Darkness. Very few are.

I proved to the world that I'm better than Eli James, Pest. So why in hell would I pay him to not show up?

I barely walked out of the tournament? Barely?

Bitch I coasted through the whole fucking thing. I did exactly what I set out to do. Before you start going on and on about successes and failures, you child screwing cunt, maybe you should try having some success. Have you truly done anything worthwhile? I mean, you have a tag team title to your credit, but have you ever done anything by yourself? On your own? Without an even bigger star holding your hand?

I didn't think so.

You're already boring me and this week has only just begun.

“I offer no threats and I offer no promises of harm.”

You're words, Pest. Not mine. But even Dim would agree, that you've spoken no truer statement in your sad, miserable existence. You are not a threat. Not to me. Not to Dim. Hell, not to anyone. Keep dreaming your big dreams of beating the best. Ask Sane how well that worked out for him. Ask your own fucking partner how well it worked for him.

That's right. Two more Sebastian Duke victories.

Being teamed with Eli James has you fooling yourself into thinking you have even the slightest chance. It fools you into thinking you're one of the big boys.

Why did I not contend with Azrael for the Television title? I was in his shadows? See, here's where you're wrong yet again. Not only are you clinging to my past but you're also forgetting a couple of facts. In the first two rounds against Azrael, he needed outside help to defeat me. In the third round, when there was no interference, that match ended in a draw. There was no winner, there was no loser. In a manner of speaking, we were equals. Of course, I don't see Azrael Erebus around here anymore. Yet, I'm still here.

You never went after the Universal title because you don't see the merit in it. Yet here you are, inside the Lethal Lottery gunning for a chance at a briefcase which nearly guarantees you will be in the mix for the Universal title. First of all, you never went after the Universal title because you're just not good enough to win it. Hell, everybody knows it, Pest.

Even you.

Second of all, you're one and done. Everybody knows that, too.

Please, Pest.

Please, I beg you.

Next time you take the viewers of the Xtreme Wrestling Federation on a long, seemingly unending diatribe, I beg you to just make even a little sense.

Just like 45 others before you, Pest.

On Warfare, you will...

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