The room was dimly lit, with only a single light illuminating the long table where the executives sat. The air was thick with tension and the sound of rustling papers filled the room as they shuffled through their notes.

"We need to improve our products," the CEO stated. "Our fans demand more than just a few punches and a quick loss. They want to see a show, a story. And that's exactly what we're going to give them."

The room fell silent as each executive leaned in, eagerly awaiting the CEO's next words.

"We've been working on a new prototype, one that will revolutionize the world of wrestling. And I'm happy to say that we've found our perfect candidate for our newest project."

He pulled out a file and placed it on the table in front of him, revealing a picture of Michael Graves clipped to a folder that reads Failed D.W.R. project.

"Graves was a Weapon:Subject from one of the many failed businesses that we’ve acquired over the years. D.W.R. to be precise. Assassins traveling the world as wrestlers? What a silly idea! But for our purpose, the experiments performed on him then, make him the perfect candidate now. He has the look, the attitude, and the skill. But we need to enhance him, to make him a true superstar. We need to make him our perfect wrestler."

The executives nodded in agreement, already envisioning the possibilities.

"We'll start with the basics: enhance his physical strength and agility, and improve his endurance. But that's just the beginning. We need to make him stand out, make him unforgettable."

One of the executives raised his hand. "What about his personality? Graves is already known for his... eccentricity. Shouldn't we play that up?"

The CEO smiled. "Excellent point. We'll crank him up to 11!."

Another executive chimed in. "But what about his mental state? He seems... unstable. Will he be able to handle the pressure?"

The CEO leaned back in his chair, contemplating the question. "We'll monitor him closely. But if he can handle what we have in store for him, he'll be a legend. The ultimate wrestler, a true entertainer."

The room buzzed with excitement as the executives continued to brainstorm, each one adding their own ideas and suggestions. And as they worked, they knew that they were on the cusp of something great. A new era in wrestling, where even the losers were stars.


Elsewhere…



















Micheal Graves sat in his cramped jail cell, fuming with anger. He had been arrested for a crime he didn't commit, and the cops were being no help at all. He banged on the metal bars of his cell, trying to get their attention.

"Hey! Hey, you guys! Can you let me out of here? I didn't do anything!"

The two officers who had arrested him, Johnson and Smith, were standing outside of his cell, exchanging smirks.

"Listen, Graves, we know what you are," Johnson said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, you freak! Now can it!" Smith added.

Graves scowled. "Okay, I’m like, so many things that people hate me for; You’re going to need to be very specific!"

Johnson stepped closer to the cell, looking down at him. "Yeah, you are! You’re also a shittastic wrestler! Couldn't even win the Tag Team Championships after two attempts!"

Graves gritted his teeth. "Hey, I'm a damn good XTREME wrestler, bitch! I just had an off night."

Smith chuckled. "Yeah, right. That's what all of the job boys say."

Graves glared at them. "Look, can we just focus on the fact that I'm innocent here? I didn't do what you're accusing me of."

Johnson and Smith exchanged a look. "Sorry, Gravy," Johnson said. "But we've got orders from higher up. You're not going anywhere for a while."

Graves slumped back against the wall of his cell, feeling defeated. He knew he was up against something big, something he couldn't fight alone. But he wasn't going to give up that easily.

"You'll see," he muttered to himself. "I'll prove my innocence. And then you'll be the ones begging for mercy."

As Gravy was sitting in his cell, still seething with anger and frustration, he suddenly heard the sound of the door opening. He looked up to see a man in a black suit and tie, with slicked-back hair and a sinister grin on his face.

"Good evening, Mr. Graves. I am here to offer you a way out of this dreadful situation," the man said, his voice smooth and almost hypnotic.

Gravy looked at him suspiciously. "Who the fuck is you?"

The man chuckled. "My name is not important. What is important is that I have the power to offer you mercy from this awful existence. You see, Mr. Graves, I represent a group of powerful individuals who are interested in your unique talents."

Gravy raised an eyebrow. "What talents?" *Editor's note: Gravy didn’t mean it like that, but I mean…

The man smiled. "Your skills as a professional wrestler, of course. We believe that you have the potential to become something greater than you ever imagined. We can offer you a chance to become unstoppable in the ring."

Gravy was taken aback by the man's words. "What the hell are you talking about? I’m already fucking godly in the ring!"

The man leaned closer to the cell. "Think about it, Mr. Graves. No more being a laughingstock. You could be the greatest wrestler of all time, and we can make it happen."

Gravy stared at him for a moment, considering his words. Part of him was intrigued by the idea of finally achieving the success he had always dreamed of. But another part of him was wary of this strange man and his offer.

The strange man in the suit and tie leaned in closer to Graves, his eyes locked onto him with an intense gaze. "Think about it, Graves. You will be so much more than just a wrestler once we’re done with you."

Graves glared back at the man, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "I don't need… Whatever the fuck THIS is! I'll make it on my own, the old-fashioned way." Gravy said as he smashed his right fist into his open palm.

The man in the suit looked at Graves with a small smirk on his face.

"Hmm… I find it so very odd that you would blindly reject the gift that we’re offering you."

Graves crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "I said no. I'm not interested in being some kind of experiment for you people. Been there-done THAT!"

The man's smirk turned into a frown. "I see. Well, I suppose that's your choice."

Suddenly, the man pulled out a small syringe and injected Graves with something. Graves tried to fight back, but his body quickly went limp and he fell to the ground unconscious.

The man in the suit looked down at him with a small smile. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, Mr. Graves. But I assure you, when you wake up, you'll be grateful for the opportunity we've given you." He then turned and walked away, leaving Graves alone in his cell.

As Gravy woke up, he saw that he was no longer in his cell. He was strapped onto a metal table in a dimly lit laboratory. He tried to move but realized that he couldn't. He was completely immobilized.

Panicked, he tried to scream for help, but no sound came out. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his arm as someone injected him with a sedative. The world went black again.

The next time he woke up, he saw that he was surrounded by a group of doctors and engineers in lab coats. They were examining him, scanning his body with various high-tech devices.

One of them noticed that Gravy was awake and alerted the others. They all crowded around him, shining bright lights in his eyes and muttering to each other.

Gravy tried to speak, but all he could manage was a low groan. One of the doctors noticed and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Graves. You're going to be just fine. We're going to make you better than ever."

Gravy had no idea what they meant, but he knew he had to get out of there. He struggled against his restraints, but they held firm until he blacked out again.

The doctors continued their work, attaching wires and devices to Gravy's body. He felt cold metal against his skin and the sound of machines whirring and clicking filled the room.



Gravy tried to resist, but he fell unconscious again.

This pattern continued for days, with Gravy waking up periodically to see more and more of his body replaced with metal and machinery. He was in agony, but he couldn't even scream to ask for help.

The executives had finally completed the transformation of Michael Graves into the ultimate wrestling cyborg - RoboGravy.



It was time for his debut, and they wanted the world to witness it live.

The conference room was packed with XWF fans eagerly waiting to see the new sensation. The stage was surrounded by screens, all showing a live feed from the backstage area. Suddenly, the screens changed to a single camera focused on a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only."

The door opened, and a figure emerged. It was RoboGravy, clad in a sleek black and silver outfit, his face hidden behind a metallic mask. He moved with a mechanical precision that left no doubt he was no longer human.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and the CEO began to hype up the moment. "Ladies and gentlemen, what we're seeing here is the future of professional wrestling!"

RoboGravy made his way to the stage, moving with an almost inhuman grace. He stood center stage and raised his arms, his mask reflecting the bright lights of the conference room. The crowd continued to cheer.

The executive stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat before addressing the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today is a momentous occasion. Today, we introduce to you the future of professional wrestling, the one and only, for now… RoboGravy! With his advanced robotic body and state-of-the-art programming, he is the pinnacle of technological innovation in sports entertainment."

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as RoboGravy stood motionless on the stage.

"Now, you may be wondering, what makes RoboGravy so special? Why should every wrestling promotion in the world want him on their roster? Well, the answer is simple. RoboGravy is more than just a wrestler. He is a perfect combination of man and machine, with the strength and durability of a machine and the skill and finesse of a human athlete."

The executive paused for a moment to let the words sink in before continuing.

"Furthermore, RoboGravy is programmed with four directives that ensure his performance and the safety of everyone involved in his matches at all times. First and foremost, he is designed to serve the bookers trust, ensuring that every match is entertaining and exciting for the fans. Secondly, he is programmed to protect all opponents from serious injury, preventing any accidents or mishaps in the ring. Thirdly, he upholds the rulebook, following all regulations and guidelines set forth by the governing bodies of professional wrestling. And lastly, well, let's just say that directive number four is a classified trade secret."

The crowd murmured with curiosity and anticipation as the executive smiled and continued.

"So, without further ado, I present to you RoboGravy, the first of his kind and exclusive to the XWF! We look forward to seeing him dominate the competition and revolutionize the world of professional wrestling."

With a final flourish, the executive steps back from the microphone as the lights dim and RoboGravy's eyes light up with a robotic glow, ready to begin his journey as a wrestling cyborg.