I was in much better spirits for our afternoon meeting.

A chance encounter with Elli and discovering her relationship with Dr. Elbrook, finding out more about this condition that may be the result of this wish...it was worth discussing with the others. I requested them all to the Berget Vineyards board room, as I felt this would be the best place to talk openly about my - or I suppose it is our - condition. As always, I took my seat at the head of the board room table. Devin sat near the middle of the room, while Daniel was leaning up against the wall opposite of Devin. Apparently Daniel was not much of a sitter. Wide Dio walked in last, carrying a bowl with a lid and a fork on top.

"Let me guess; you decided to bring pasta this time?" Daniel joked coldly.

Wide Dio took a seat, winking at me, and opened the lid, revealing...a salad?

Devin clapped, saying "Why Dio, what is all that green I see?"

"Caesar salad," Wide Dio replied simply, "With some fresh-picked tomatoes. Your assistant guy William picked some up when he was in town. Guess a farmer's market was going on or somethin'."

Daniel uncrossed his arms. "Well now I think I've seen everything-"

"Gentlemen," I commanded softly. "While we could spend the entire day acting surprised about Dio's eating habits, there is something we need to talk about."

"Aye aye, boss," Devin replied, giving a mocking salute. I still wasn't sure what to make of Devin since our encounter by the lake. His manic demeanor seems to have settled back into aloofness...it was eerie.

"So what's this all about?" Daniel asked.

"I had a conversation with Devin about this, and I wanted to hear from everyone else in this room." I paused to gather my thoughts, then continued. "Over the last few months I have heard...voices. Nothing like voices giving me commands, but just...voices. Laughter, applause, sounds of shock or interest. Does any of that sound familiar to anyone here?"

The other three looked at one another, Wide Dio having just shoveled a mouthful of salad into his mouth as I asked the question. He muffled out a "Mm-hmm" and nodded, but kept chewing so he could speak later.

"Now that you mention it..." Daniel rubbed the back of his head. "I think I may have heard something like that. I just assumed there was a television on somewhere."

"I've heard these things before," Devin said, "But none of it was overly alarming. I just figured it had something to do with our wish."

"True," I added, "But there are other possibilities. I just got back from my appointment with Elbrook-" 

"Oh yeah?" Wide Dio interrupted. "How's he been?"

"A-alright," I replied, trying to remember just what I was talking about. "I explained what we have been hearing the last few days, and he may have an explanation. There is a psychological delusion that manifests in the way we've been experiencing it...almost like we're just the subject of a television show. He called it Truman Syndrome."

"Like the movie?" Daniel asked. "That can't be a real thing, can it?"

"That's what I had said," I answered. "It isn't an officially recognized name, just one that is commonly used in the field. So it may be possible that this is only a side effect of the wish that The Wishmonger had granted us." I could see the three of them shift uncomfortably in their seats. "I know you are wondering if there is a way to cure this or put a stop to it. For now, we should do what we can to just blot it out and ignore it."

"That's easy for you to say."

I turned to look at Devin who had said that so coldly I hardly recognized his voice. "I mean, lets face it Dionysus; of the four of us here, you are really the only person who has experience being able to drown out a chorus of voices like this. I don't want to be the guy to put a damper on our good time in existence, but telling us 'hey, you're hearing voices, just try to ignore them' isn't exactly what I'd call good bedside manner."

I knew he was right. Even I was having a hard time drowning them out now that I have an idea of where to listen for them. "Since this is something we are all dealing with together, we can help each other work through it together."

"Like a family," Wide Dio said mournfully.

"...Yeah," Daniel added. "Like a family. It isn't as though we are doing this alone or anything." He turned his gaze from Wide Dio to Devin. "Since we're all feeling the same thing, that's got to make it easier to-"

"But are we all feeling the same about this?" Devin asked with sinister intentions. "I mean, look at Dio over there; one trip out and suddenly he is more comfortable eating a salad than gorging himself like he has been since his arrival? Or what about you, Daniel, with all your doubts about your own existence?" Without looking at me, he pointed a finger in my direction. "I'm going to ask the question we all know we have on our minds. How do we know that this is something we all share? How do we know that we aren't just part of his delusion?"

The room was eerily silent. I could see Daniel's expression swiftly change to anger, but couldn't muster the energy to take a swing at Devin. Wide Dio just set his fork down, deep in thought at Devin's question. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't trust even my own mind in the moment.

It was at that moment when William burst through the doors. "Dionysus, sir!" he shouted, "The background checks came back!"

I stood up quickly, immediately snapping out of the moment. "Well give it here!" I replied. William slid the priority envelope in my direction. It was thick, though given that there was a search for three persons, it made sense. I quickly opened the envelope and retrieved the files inside. I slid a finger beneath the file and the seal that kept it together...

...

...

I froze.

Not out of fear. But out of courtesy. "I can't open these," I announced, sliding each file to the three men. "These are your identities, not mine. Lets see who you truly are."

Without giving it a second thought, Wide Dio snatched up his folder and broke the seal. He took two seconds to read the name. "...Well I'll be dipped. Wade Dio." He looked back up at me, grinning. "Guess it was just something I knew."

Daniel walked over to the table, swiping the file in front of him. "Well if...Wade...over there is satisfied," He started, opening up his own. He took longer to read, presumably to see what other information he could glean. "Well according to this, my name is actually Daniel. Daniel Ferris." A warm smile crossed his face. "I have a name. An identity. A purpose."

"You ain't gonna look at yours?" Wade had asked Devin.

I turned to look at Devin, whose hands were still in his lap, his file remaining untouched. "I will admit. I wasn't expecting something so...unexpected to happen." He slowly slid the folder into his hands, and broke the seal. He opened to the first page, read the name quickly, then immediately closed his file. He let out a sigh. "Just like Daniel, Devin is also my real name."

"And...your last?" I asked.

Devin gave a sly grin. Whether it was genuine or an act, it was hard to tell. "It is all part of the report, isn't it? Besides...I think I will leave that as a surprise," he replied. "For now, it seems like these results are genuine. We all have real identities. Now all we need to do is get copies of our identification and we can actually travel around for a change."

"And on top of that," I added, "It means I will need to get in touch with Theo."

The three men looked to me with expecting looks. "You mean..."

"Our contracts?"

"We'll get to be with you from now on?"

I nodded. "Its possible. I'll handle the negotiations. After all, we have a pay-per-view to go to. Pack your bags, boys. The Many Faces are going on a trip."

---

Smart of you to send those documents. Who knows what would have happened if the truth broke now?

---

---

I can feel it...coming in the air...

A leaf. Such a majestic part of the whole tree. A yearly escapade where, when its time is done, it drifts along the wind to nurture and provide for another year. Such is the winds of change. Leaves are one way to see where the wind blows. Ripples on the water's surface is another.

I can tell you have done your research on me, Mastermind. Being a Minnesotan born and bred, I am all too familiar with the art of fishing. And it is an art, do not be mistaken. Finding the right lake at the right time of year, heading out onto the water first thing in the morning, sometimes even before the crack of dawn. Lining up your cast just right, releasing at the precise moment to achieve that perfect arc...then the real artistry begins. Teasing the bait, hooking your muskie or walleye to inevitably fight for that reel-in. And in the end, pulling your prize out of those waters to hold proudly for a photo, then either releasing it back to the wild or keeping it in a bucket for supper later.

Not many people know this, but the greatest lesson a fisherman can learn is when to know when the fight is lost. Maybe the sturgeon slips from your hands back into the lake. Perhaps your line snaps...or worse, your pole. Knowing when the fight becomes insurmountable is vital in order to fish another day.

Your moment passed when you chose to take on this match, Mastermind.

With a new member in tow, you can understand why choosing an enclosed match was necessary. I am disinterested in fighting the entirety of The Misfits. My only interest lies in facing you. You alone need to try and defeat one of the fastest rising stars in Warfare, perhaps even XWF. Now, I will give you some credit; you are quite right to mention that my being clever will only get me so far.

With that being the case, permit me to drop the pretense and be blunt for a moment.

Since your return, you have amassed twenty two losses. In this year alone, that count is at fourteen. This tells me plenty about you. Namely, that your best days are long behind you. And while I am fully aware that everyone is one win or loss from a good or bad streak, respectively, your trend of consistent losses over the span of your career tells me that while you have what it takes to grab this federation with an iron fist...that first has long since rusted. This match is one where you are not only trying to recapture a title you hold dear to your heart, but also trying to recapture your own youth. A time where you were a dominant force. This match is your midlife crisis.

And between you and me, most in your position would simply settle for an overpriced sports car.

Make no mistake; this Typhoon Match does not give me any more advantage over you than you over me...unless at some point in your storied career you have had a match while falling out of an airplane. It is really a match worthy of you; a dastardly plot, a match designed to literally throw caution to the wind, where desperation can even seep from the strongest wills. And that rope which will keep us connected will serve as your lifeline. You will already have half the work done for you. You will have your prize-winning lake sturgeon already set on the hook. All that need happen is for you to reel it in.

Does that prospect not entice you?

I can see the many ways you will try and turn my machination into some folly on my part. To make it seem like this was your plan all along; completely isolate me and make it that much easier to defeat me. However, that was precisely my plan from the word "go." Better competitors than you have tried to play the psychological mind game with me and have managed to come up empty as a result. You see, I am not intimidated by a foe with legendary renown. After all, one hundred and twenty nine days as Television Champion is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, I eagerly charge forward toward the challenge, awaiting the opportunity to see where I stack up. Nothing you can do will dissuade me from going all out. Nothing you can say will cause you to live rent-free in my mind.

Because even before you uttered a single word toward me, you were already there. The same goes for Angelica Vaughn. Isaiah King. The Latina Submission Machine. Ned Kaye. And anyone else I have had the pleasure of stepping into the ring with. Every single time, my mind is on that singular goal; focus on my opponents strengths and weaknesses. Overcome the strengths. Exploit the weaknesses. And do everything in my power to be the one with their arm raised in the end. Do you understand now my level of commitment to my cause?

I would assume the answer is a resounding "no."

Which is why this must be shown rather than be told, for actions will always speak louder than words. In the span of five months I have achieved, lost, and regained this title. In the nine months since my signing, I have made every effort to show why I deserve to be here. Unfortunately for you, the winds of change have already arrived. And that...is the wind beneath my wings.

Now sit back, relax, and watch me fly.