We open up at the International Marketplace in Waikiki, Hawaii. It is nighttime, but people are walking along and out through various stalls, all while the sounds of the city can be heard in the background. Standing behind a table is Centurion wearing a pull suit with a fancy flat cap hat. Sitting on the table in front of him are two identified objects.

"One man's trash…is another man's treasure. Or so they say. Sometimes, however, one man's trash can just be trash. Age can bring great value to an object, or it could depreciate it. Take the two objects in front of me."

The camera pans out to allow the objects to become more clear. Centurion steps first behind a sword. He casually gestures towards it.

"This is a Wakizashi. It was a popular side sword for soldiers and civilians during the Sengoku period in Japan. It is smaller than a katana, which made them popular for home defense and close combat fighting. A lot of these would have been produced back then, so they wouldn't have been rare to see in the 16th century. In 21st century America, however? It's become an antique. It is not just the item itself, but it's history that makes it so valuable."

Centurion walks over to the other side of the table. Sitting on the table is an old can of Royal Crown soda. The can is in relatively decent shape, with some rust spots on it, but there are certain dents, along with the designs, that show its age.

"This is a steel soda can. Royal Crown was the first company to distribute soda in cans, back in the early 1960's. Steel was the popular thing at the time, but as we would learn, it did not keep well, and the taste would be distorted. At the time, drinking soda out of a steel can was cool and popular, but it quickly went out of favor and the design became obsolete."

Centurion slowly walks back into the center of the table. He takes his cap off and places it on the table before readjusting his jacket cuffs, all while speaking.

"This is the separation between me and Unknown Soldier. I may be older, but I am far more valuable. There were many like me at the time, but those have all slowly faded away with time, leaving only relics as a reminder of a past era. You may find newer copies of me, but you'll never find another original. My value is based on all I have seen in my life.

Unknown Soldier? He isn't an antique - he's out of date. He's a reminder of an era we wish to forget. People like him were common at the time, but then they all turned to rust, as they should. I am a memento of an era fondly remembered, and Unknown Soldier is the remains of a mistake we'll unfortunately never forget."

Centurion raises his head and breathes in the Hawaii night air.

"When this match was first booked, I wondered why it wasn't given the publicity it deserved. A legend and a former Universal Champion, fighting on a random episode of Anarchy, and in the middle of the card, no less? This is a hardcore battle, one where we're set to batter the complete hell out of each other. Surely this should be a pay per view main event, right?

But then I thought about it more. I thought about where you come from, and what you represent, and it dawned on me - we're not in the main event because of you. Specifically, because Vinnie Lane wants to bury you as quickly as possible. He wants you to go away - no fanfare, no retirement tour, no big speech - just fade away, as you should have done in 2019. 

I am usually not one to do anything for that tight pants wearing manbaby, but in this case…I think I'll go ahead and give Vinnie a nice present."

Centurion grabs the RC Cola can and looks at it for a second before placing it back down on the table. He then grabs the sword and, in one quick swing, he slams it into the can, slicing it in half. Centurion then slowly and carefully sets the sword back down before grabbing his cap.

"Your career was over the moment the last remnants of an administration that protected your ass for years died. Your ultraviolent, Satanic, death workshopping schtick has run its course. It's no longer a novelty. The world has changed, Soldier…and you've refused to change with it. 

I want you to look into my eyes, Soldier. I want you to see the face of an emotion you've likely never seen before. It's not fear. It's not even hate. It's just disappointment. Those days of you running around as Universal Champion are long over. So bring every ounce of energy you have, Soldier. Bring your weapons, your blades - I want to see you try your worst. I want you to try and kill me like you used to do with your old rivals, because then I want you to see how far removed from that world you truly are. I want you to be demonic, because tomorrow…"

Centurion pauses as he takes another deep breath. He slowly slips his cap back onto his head before looking directly into the camera once last time.

"...seems like a great day to kill Satan."