“There is a price to pay, to cross the River Styx…”

The ceiling lights are the first thing Raion Kido sees upon finally waking up, finding himself laid upon the examination table, with the same doctor that had insisted on seeing him now applying a bandage to his forehead. Vision was still blurry, but would slowly return. Still feeling rather woozy after that tremendous hit, Kido tries to sit up - only for a rush of blood to come to his head, and make him groan.

“Eeeeeeeaaaaaasy, Kido, won’t be too long now.”

Firmly, but gently, the doctor placed a hand on his chest, willing him to stay down.

“Nasty hit that was, wasn’t it, doctor?”

“I would bet money on that being a World Series-winning home run, had it hit the ball it was designed to have hit instead of your head. Although that barbed wire would have probably ripped it off.”

A slight, appreciative chuckle from the Lion puts the shadow of a smile on the doctor’s face.

“Well, I suppose I owe him something now. My apologies in advance for the work you’ll have to do if you’re there when our match is done.”

The doctor gives him a smirk and shakes his head.

“Something tells me that once you two meet it’s going to be a matter for morticians rather than EMTs. Try sitting up now.”

Not without a certain, understandable delay under the circumstances, Raion finally sits up. The doctor reaches into his bag, and taking out a small flashlight, he turns it on and points it to Kido’s eyes, which makes the Lion squint.

“Okay, that’s good, your eyes are okay. You got hit hard and he drew some blood, but nothing the bandage can’t stop. You’ll probably be feeling that for a bit, but one could say you’re okay. Just let your head clear out, stay still for a moment, and you’ll be walking out.”

The doctor takes notice of a pendant with two coins hanging from the Lion’s neck. Raion looks at him with curiosity, then realizes what the doctor is looking at.

“Oh, these? These are a gift from my trainer. He gave them to me when I finally came out of wrestling school…”


There is a lot of activity outside the Mishima wrestling dojo in the evening of Osaka. A great crowd is gathered before the tatami doors, and it isn’t long before they open, to see the training wrestlers giving a live performance show. The crowd goes wild upon seeing the performers, among which is a stocky young man with a disheveled, leonine mane. Standing victorious in the ring, he takes in the sights and sounds of the admiring crowd, before trainer Takenori Mishima approaches him, a microphone in one hand, and a small black box in the other.

“Today, ladies and gentlemen, we’re celebrating a special occasion. This young man before you is the newest graduate of our school! He has undergone strenuous training like everyone else, and the fruits of his dedication have finally paid off. It is my personal honor, therefore, to present to you, the NNNNNNNNEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW member of the Mishima Wrestling Dojo! RAIOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNN… KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

The crowd stands up and applauds the new wrestler in respect, to which Kido bows his head in silent appreciation. Trainer Mishima then presents him with the box, in which there is a pendant with two nickel coins.

“Wow, Mishima-sensei! You didn’t have to do this, you know?”

“What kind of trainer would I be if I didn’t feel proud of my students? You’ve earned this, Kido, and this is in token of my appreciation.”

The young man looks closely at the coins, which bear the face of a lion.

“A lion! And so very well-crafted, too! But why are there two of them, sensei? One would have sufficed.”

Trainer Mishima shakes his head, a complicit smile appearing on his lips.

“I’ve had to listen to you go on about Saint Seiya all this time, so I did a little research of my own. See… these are special coins, if not very valuable. They placed them in the eyes of the dead in ancient times. It was a kind of symbolic value, for the ferryman of River Styx. The price to pay in order to cross to the afterlife.”

The young man gives a smile back.

“Sensei, if you’d wanted me to die, you could have just killed me yourself when I had started, in one of your submissions.”

“Ohoho! But seriously. There’s a message here too, lad. You don’t know what might happen once you’re up in the ring. I’ve seen unfortunate accidents, and some wrestlers, good wrestlers that I knew, are now no longer in this world.

We must not forget that we wrestlers inherit a tradition as warriors, and some of them here in Japan carried some tokens like this before going into battle, because they knew they might die at any moment, but were prepared for that. They displayed these proudly as signs that they were willing to pay the price of death.”

Both Raion and Trainer Mishima stay in silence, for a few seconds, or perhaps for an eternity in that moment, and the young Lion takes the pendant from the locket, and hangs it around his neck.

“Maybe the east and the west are much closer to each other than we think, sensei…”


“... and since then I carry them with me always. Both as a memento of my homeland and my trainer, but also as a reminder to myself that I should choose when to pay the price of crossing to the afterlife. But now I may have to cast them off.”

“And why’s that?”

Raion takes the locket from his neck, and holds it in his hand.

“Because Charlie Nickles will need them.”


Night is falling over Lake Ontario, and few people now walk the Waterfront Trail, a path designed for enjoying the open air and the view of the waterfront. The purple hues of the night as the sun finally sets make for a beautiful view of the calm waters of the lake.

“It was once believed that, when someone died, they had to cross the river to the afterlife; and to do that, there was a toll to pay to the ferryman, in the form of coins, or tokens of some value, which would be placed over their eyes. If they had nothing to give, they would wander forever on the shores of River Styx, in eternal sorrow and regret.”

On a lookout point facing the water stands Raion Kido, between two benches placed on the shore. He wears his golden armor now, and a white cape flows from his shoulders, billowing in the night wind.

“I’ll grant you this is a somewhat macabre topic to open this address, but considering I’m facing an opponent with a certain penchant for the macabre, it should be more than fitting, particularly because our Television Champion Charlie Nickles has decided to stop gathering souls for that beloved corpse of his, and has instead set out to seek death of his own accord.”

The Lion looks into his clenched right fist, then thrusts it forward, tranquil fury written on his eyes. It was one thing to send some cryptic threats. It was an entirely different thing to attack an opponent backstage. Charlie Nickles had drawn blood.

And blood, it is known, demanded blood.

“Because see, members of the audience. Up until this very moment, this upcoming Main Event was only going to be a title match. A title match between the XWF Television Champion and someone who may just be one of the fastest rising stars in its history. But for some inexplicable reason that will no doubt appear in one of those filthy, flea-ridden grimoires in which he likes to look for ways to bring the dead back, Charlie Nickles decided to take a baseball bat to my head after the last edition of Wednesday Night Warfare.

And that means, ladies and gentlemen, that this title match has turned… into an execution.”


Raion peels back his mouth and grinds his teeth. As gruesome and as repulsive as Charlie Nickles may have been, he had had no particular thoughts on the matter. But the Nickleman had fired the proverbial first shots, and now it was time to show the so-called Nickelman what happened when one stoked a Lion’s fury.

“I’m sure you must be feeling right at home now, Nickles. You’ve had Ruby hanging from a rope and Michael Graves buried in a graveyard, but unlike Ruby, there’s more to me than a heroic posture and a nice outfit; and unlike Michael Graves, my bite is more dangerous than my roar. There is a lesson that every opponent that has come against me inevitably comes to learn: Whether you’re the newest star, or a literal living legend, or one of the company’s brightest stars - you’re not exempt from the Lion’s righteous wrath.

Doesn’t that strike you as familiar, Nickles? Wasn’t that what you babbled about to Graves? Now you’re going to see your own comeuppance right before your very eyes. Just like Centurion, exactly like Thaddeus Duke, names to which you pale in comparison, you will experience it in its full power - the full burn of the cosmos to which there is no limit. And you’re going to be brought down just like they were - but there will be a difference. With them, it was about giving them the honor of an opponent of the caliber they expected. It was the rush of adrenaline and the lightning strike that the XWF Universe deserves from me every show.

With you, it will be about giving you the put down that every other putrid, mangy, rabid beast is owed. It will not be pleasant. It will not be swift. It will not be quick. But I promise you, Nickles, it will be agonizing.

So go ahead. Pick whatever stipulation favors you best, and I’ll be sure to meet it head on, and beat you at your own game just like I have so far done everyone else. Try to scare us with your necromantic show, cry and scream over that rotting carcass of yours, but rejoice in knowing that your misery is about to end, for you will become one with it soon.”

The Lion pauses, letting the whisper of the waters of Lake Ontario fill the air. He directs to the camera a stone-faced stare, which later gives way to a mirthless grin.

“But whatever you do, please, Nickles, don’t talk about how I should pay due to my so-called betters. I may still be fairly new, this will be my fourth match, but I’ve heard this in some way or another from everyone I’ve faced before, and I’ve already proven I belong. I have been there with some of the best, and they ended up paying due to me. The XWF Universe has seen it, the rest of the locker room has seen it - you have seen it for yourself, right on Wednesday Night Warfare. Otherwise, you would not have attacked me, and you would have been content to sit where you so far have.

Because maybe, Nickles, that is what really lies underneath this all. Despite all your bluster about how you are always ready for war, how your mind is as sharpened as your body, despite all the horror that surrounds you, and this sorry, pathetic, mewling sight you project - maybe, deep down underneath, you’re scared. Maybe, just maybe, you perceive me as a threat. It’s what led you to do what you did, didn’t it?

Let’s not kid ourselves, Nickles, it’s patently obvious. I would call your “attention” a compliment if it hadn’t been so utterly stupid. If you plan to ambush someone, make sure they don’t live to remember - because they’ll be coming for you. You sought to put me down before the match even began. Unfortunately for you, however, here I stand. Here I am telling you that I survived. Here I am telling you that, as if a belt were already not enough, this has become personal. And here I am telling you that I am coming for you. There is a debt that you are owed and at Saturday Night Savage, I come to pay in full.

But once this Main Event is over, you’ll have your own price to pay. You’ll find yourself on the shores of the Styx with no way to pay the ferryman, and you’ll live in eternal regret knowing that you brought this fate on yourself.

And that will be another note of irony, Nickles: All those souls you claim to have collected, and when I deliver you the defeat you have coming in a setting of your own choosing, you’ll have none to call your own!”

Raion’s grin turns to a bare-toothed, feral grimace, before he lets out the mighty bellow that has become the Lion’s roar. Like always, it was time for the cosmos to burn.

“And speaking of having nothing to call your own, allow me to bring this up to your attention too. From January 30th when I made my debut, up until next Savage Saturday Night, I have been in three matches, in a Pay-Per-View and in two different shows; these latter two in the span of a week, against a rookie on a winning streak, and two of the biggest names the XWF has to offer. And though you already know this, it’s worth reminding you that I have won them all.

What has Charlie Nickles, our esteemed Television Champion, done since Fire and Ice up until jumping me backstage? Nothing.

Not a single, miserable match within almost a month!”

Back to a savage laughter Raion goes. Charlie Nickles had enjoyed pointing out these facts as well, and the Lion was truthful when he said he would beat him at his own game.

“Well, Nickles? How do you like that speech to Graves you just gave being thrown back at you? How does it feel to know you’re guilty of the same thing that someone you accused has done? And the worst part of it all isn’t that, which is bad in and of itself, but rather the fact that, after winning a tournament to become number one contender, defeating Betsy Granger, and having had two defenses before Fire and Ice, all you’ve done is sit on your laurels, and fall behind.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is unforgivable.

It would have been somewhat palatable if, say, Nickles kept himself sharpened as the weapon of war he claims to be, but therein we have the truth. The complacency that struck Thaddeus Duke has claimed another victim, and one more time, it is my part to deliver the stark reminder that the XWF seeks constant improvement. And that mandate has fallen to me in the form of Centurion giving me the title match that he would have claimed, had I not defeated him. That’s the importance of it all - the charge that has been laid upon my shoulders.

The mission, Charlie Nickles, to deliver the end of your reign - and of you.

And it’s a mission in which I shall not falter. For righteous comeuppance, for justice, and for the good of the XWF, it’s time to put the Nickleman down.”

Raion points to the ground, sternness in his eyes. It gave him no pleasure to do this, but rather a calm resignation. After all, while the prospect of winning the Television Title was enticing, there was something else that superseded it.

In the end, he was only doing what was necessary.

“The time for that has finally come. February 26th, Toronto, Ontario, at the next edition of Saturday Night Savage. The end of Charlie Nickels’ reign of dread, and the cleansing of the filth that stains the XWF Television Title.

Normally, I would give you a clean end, like every other competitor would deserve. Put you out of your misery, that of the people that fell to you, and the XWF Universe as a whole. But in this case, I’m going to make an exception.

And like the filthy, infected maggot you are, you’re going to die spewing blood.

But don’t worry, Nickles. I still have a duty to the dead, and unlike you, I don’t desecrate corpses. Once you’ve drawn your final breath before you lose your title and your sorry existence comes to an end, I’ll make sure your rotting carcass is buried so you can no longer pollute the air with your filth… and I’ll give you something else to prevent you from ever disturbing this realm again.

You’ll have the comfort of joining your Goldilocks in the world of the dead. You should be grateful for this gift I’m now giving you, for even that is a mercy that you do not deserve.”

Looking once more into his right fist, Raion draws his arm back and slashes the air with a cut, freeing something he was holding in his hand all along - what seems, upon first sight, to be two small metal discs, two coins, that fly swiftly onto Lake Ontario’s shore.

*CLINK!*

And as the coins land on the ground, right at the edge of the lake, the Lion turns his back and leaves. But not before turning his head towards the camera for one final sentence.

“There are the nickels for the final journey of the Nickleman.”

The camera approaches the still clattering coins on the ground, before their motion ceases and they finally lie still, to discern what they are on a closer look.

“This is the price he will pay.”

Coins minted in nickel, though not of any monetary value, their respective faces decorated with the engraved visage of a roaring lion.

Tokens to be placed over the eyes of the dead.

Fade to black.