8:55 am - The Plaza - February 18th


All that I want is a hit. Just one hit. Words to live by - words to die by.


The nausea and muscle aches are almost too much to bear and this goddamned tailored suit that I'm wearing feels like a straight jacket tightening around my chest - and with every labored breath, it feels more like it's wearing me. I placed my finger under the collar and took a deep breath. The dragon was already inside me and it was breathing fire into my veins but this meeting with Juri couldn't wait.


Twenty minutes, I told myself as I sat outside The Plaza trying to psych myself up to even walk through its opulent doors. You've just gotta make it for twenty minutes and then you can sort out this unintentional withdrawal. My mind was racing at a million miles an hour. I couldn't even pretend to concentrate as the junk sickness clawed at my veins.


I have spent the last year chasing white lines and exit signs and all that that has done has caused me to lose more of myself. To fall deeper into the madness. The fuel of my descent is staring directly at me and all that I can do is stare back through desperate, junk-addled eyes wondering when my next hit will come. Alone in my misery, in my hopeless despair.


A year ago, I thought that getting into this business would be the release that I needed. I figured it would keep me busy. City to city. State to state. Country to country. I thought it would help keep me out of trouble but trouble has always had a way of finding a guy like me. There's no Revolution Title or King of the XWF to save me from the nightmares, no matter how hard I try.


These goddamned nightmares have only gotten worse and with them, I'm losing time in longer spurts. The last time it was for three days. Three days living in some severed state of stasis. While my brain rests, my body is in constant motion and there isn't anything that I can do to stop it. Perpetually living in a haze of a life that has been anything but well lived.


My synapses firing like a battlefield as I wake up to a decaying world. Holly! The first thought that rages through my battered, twisted mind.


I still sometimes wonder if she can hear me through the stars. Through the bleak and vast nothingness that eventually swallows us all whole.


Automatism. The defense my entirely too expensive lawyers used to get me off of the worst crime I've ever committed. The defense they used to get me thrown into the Peace Valley Institute instead of San Quentin maximum security penitentiary. Such is the cost of freedom.


Automatism. An involuntary or non-conscious behavior where the bodily movements are not consciously controlled. I'll never forget it. I'll never forget that definition. I'd never heard of it before or after but that defense saved my life. Or at least what was left of it.


It's happening again and more and more frequently now. I'll fall asleep in Reno only to wake up in Poughkeepsie. With no idea how I arrived here or how in the fuck I made it there alive. Or what kind of trouble my body got me into while my mind slipped away. Take a deep breath. Compose yourself, Juri is waiting for you.


The Oak Room in the Plaza was a study in the grandiosity of the old world. Juri felt at home in its luxury but places like this made my skin crawl. A monument of excess where the ghosts of dead robber barons endure in the woodwork. The room always feels so heavy. The air is thick with the stench of overindulgence, decadence and detached malice.


I'm going to make this quick, I said as I pulled a seat up. Juri’s head was buried in his phone, no doubt doom scrolling some out of touch article, from one of those billionaire owned propaganda rags that pose as journalism. Did we get the building?


Juri closed his phone, dropped it on the table and adjusted his glasses before even looking in my direction. He knew I was a mess. He always knows. I don't even try to hide it anymore. I'm at that point in my addiction where I'm - too comfortable in my addiction.


Good morning to you as well, Matthias. Juri said calmly with that hint of annoyed tone in his voice that he uses right before I get some of his never quite thought out, dad advice.


Is it done? I snapped back. I don't have time for this back and forth. I've got a more important meeting with a plug I met in a bodega near Soho in less than an hour.


It's done. It's done. He snapped back, trying his hardest not to unload on me. For all the bad this man has done, he has the patience of a saint when it comes to me. I bought myself that rope with him long ago and I knew it.


I need this fucking place, Juri. I was black bagged, thrown into a trunk and was minutes away from you delivering my eulogy to a crowd of… one. I- he cut me off without hesitation.


What do you need this place for, Matthias? I mean really? We are supposed to invite some of the richest, most powerful men in the world, to an abandoned missile silo, in the middle of some fucking cornfield, in the heart of middle America? He shook his head but knew he had no say. I had my mind set on the place and with the paranoia guiding my every thought, he couldn't win this battle and he knew it.


We could put the Syndicate anywhere and it would be successful. Rich and powerful or not, these people were all degenerates of the highest order and if enough money was on the line, they'd show up. He just didn't want to get to the heart of my want.


If it's about needing backup against whatever it is that is going through your head, I've got backup.


Those are your guys, Juri. They're loyal to you. I need my own guys. My own soldiers. People that I can trust. Peop-


Okay, how many of those do you have? He interrupted me again. That's the last one of those he gets.


I'm working on it.















Too many of you attach yourselves to false idols. Your "Men of God" with their towering cathedrals and their robes of authority. Their seductive whispers telling you that you are divine.


It's all bullshit.


While you spend your every waking hour being conditioned to believe that you're a sinner, that you're broken, that you're desperately in need of salvation, from some distant and untouchable force. You must realize that it's about one thing and one thing only. Control.


Light that line of thinking on fire.


A system that thrives on your guilt, on your fear of being less than, will crumble the moment that you realize your own power. Liberate yourself from the archaic ideas that have been instilled and indoctrinated into your psyche since the moment that you took your first breath. Deliver that final blow to the very structures that govern your life.


It's not just the church that has been lying to you. It's society, education, and even your family. All the structures that you believed you could trust. From the moment you were born your mind has been conditioned to believe that you are small, powerless, and dependent on external validation. Cut free the chains that you wear but cannot see. Unbind yourself from traditions that try to tell you what you are allowed to believe about yourself. Step outside of that conditioning and you’ll make people uncomfortable - nervous even, because now you're not playing by their rules. Question what you have been spoon fed your entire life.


They don't want you to turn inward because the moment that you do is the moment you'll realize that you don't need them. Reclaim what was in you all along. That glorious spark that has laid dormant, bursting at the seams to be unleashed. Let Matthias Syn be your catalyst.


It's no wonder you walk around miserable, sick and lost. Some subconscious programming controlling your every move. The real prison isn't made of walls but made of thoughts. Thoughts that dig into your subconscious and fester in the grey matter. Living and breathing and growing. Constantly fighting an invisible battle against beliefs and ideas that YOU didn't even choose.


Guilt and fear are being wielded as tools of control. Why? Because guilt keeps you coming back. Fear keeps you on your knees. Keeps you reaching out for a salvation that's always just out of reach. A power trip. Plain simple. Make people scared of themselves and they'll keep begging for forgiveness.


Let me tell you this brothers and sisters - Salvation is a lie. The real power is already inside of you but as long as guilt and fear pull the strings, you'll never have the strength to reach for it. That's the whole game. They're not saving you. They're stifling you. Matthias Syn can save you.


Your subconscious is a vault of untapped power. It's a piece of you that holds the key to everything that you could be. The catch with that is, the great irony in it all is, that most of you will die without ever unlocking that door. The external noise is nothing more than a distraction keeping you looking inward. The subconscious holds onto every experience, every trauma, every little thing that you've ever been taught. Most of it is garbage. Introspection is only dangerous to those you allow to wield power over you. Dangerous to their control.


Free your fucking mind before it makes you sick. Your mind is the ultimate creator and it has been hijacked by systems that want you to stay weak, stay sick and stay dependent. Let Matthias Syn free you.


Acknowledge my divinity and I will release you from your self-imposed prison. Or you can continue to be kept in line. Kept thinking small. The moment that you stop buying into their lies, is the moment that you truly become dangerous. Stop playing by the rules of the few who benefit from our ignorance and the whole system will collapse.


Follow me and we can create an entirely new reality. Become impossible to control.


Only then will you find empowerment. Only then will you be ready for a revolution. A revolution of the body and mind. A revolution so strong that it could topple institutions. But freedom isn't comfortable - it's chaotic, unpredictable and downright terrifying. But that's the price we pay for waking up. You have to choose between the comfort of the known or the chaos of the unknown.


There's no dream to be sold, only a challenge laid out in front of you. But understand, once you've made that choice, there's no going back. It's not just something that you can unlearn. Not now that you've had a peek behind the curtain. The choice is clear. Live with Matthias Syn amongst the gods or live as a slave to the systems that have been controlling you.


Once that choice is made though, you must know that you're no longer allowed to blame the world for your problems or wait for someone else to fix your life. That's the danger in it. That's the beauty in it. No guarantees, no safety nets. Just you and your power and the endless opportunities waiting for you on the other side of fear. Quit playing by the rules of a system designed to break you. Rewrite the script.


Here's where it gets uncomfortable. Freedom isn't a gift, it's a burden. It means every failure, every missed opportunity is yours to own. There's no room for excuses anymore. But once you step into your power - everything changes. Not everyone is ready to be free. Most would rather stay comfortable in chains than take the risk of flying without a net.


Matthias Syn isn't here to make you feel good about it. I'm here to ask you, are you ready to take responsibility for yourself? Are you ready to break free? To become dangerous? I will never ask you to beg for forgiveness for being exactly who you are. As long as you're free. As long as your eyes are opened and you have woken up.


Don't fight the system. Transcend it and together, we will transform worlds.


TP! Here's a football analogy for the former football player: You just won the biggest game of your life. You just pulled the biggest upset of this tournament so far, when you pinned the excellent Lucy Wylde. A former World Champion. A former Tag Team Champion. Runner-up at WarGames. The painted up carnival act with as many brain cells as he has wins, took down Lucy.


Well, TP. You got my fucking attention. That scared little boy, who never fit in, with a sadness behind his eyes that anyone really looking can see. I know why you paint yourself in silver. To hide from the world. To hide from the scars of a youth never truly forgotten.


Matthias Syn sees beyond the grand illusions that we tell ourselves. Beyond the illusions that we let comfort us, staring through half cracked windows, wondering if you can somehow shut off the chaos from the outside world by simply willing it so.


But reality doesn't work that way, TP. I can see that through it all. I can see through the painted facade, that you had the sick, sad realization that you're a fucking carnival act. A sideshow. The story ends here, TP. There's no rise to glory. There is only that claustrophobic box that echoes the same tired ideas that help you not put the gun in your mouth and save us all the wasted breath.


Relish in your win over Lucy. Enjoy it. Remember it. But know, that I'm not Lucy. I’m a lot more mean. A lot more violent. And I'm going to rip your fucking throat out and laugh as you bleed out.


Your story ends on Warfare.