𝙸𝙸. “ THY SMEARED LEGACY ”

The ring bell had rung for the second and final time. The brief sound created when the timekeeper struck the bell exactly three times signaled to the viewers and to the competitors that match number two on the milestone Breakthrough fifty had reached its end. Numerous two counts and broken pinfalls had occurred during the intense clash of wills. Towards the end of the match, Leo Dempsey had found himself decimated first by a Bicycle Knee Strike and then by Keelan's finishing maneuver, appropriately named the “Black Dawn Murder.” Dempsey hadn't found it in himself to kick out and Lightwood had been crowned the victor. As if that hadn't been enough of a statement, Keelan's father had conducted a vile post-match assault on the poor and defenseless Dempsey, utilizing his walking stick.

Only a couple of minutes ago had the Lightwoods made their exit from the Homewood Field. They had successfully found their way back to the backstage area where they were walking towards the locker rooms. Both Keelan and Reginald felt victorious as they navigated through the narrow hallways, their leisurely saunter oozing with pride. The majority of Keelan's body was lightly moistened with sweat, which barely glistened under the rays of light that were shot from the lamps that were scattered across the ceiling. The vicious duo passed a multitude of backstage workers who were kept occupied with making sure the show goes on as originally planned. No attention was paid to the workers and Keelan seemed to be in the process of thinking deep, unknown thoughts. That train of thought came to a screeching halt when Reginald began to speak, causing his son's mind to depart from the task it had subconsciously been given.

| ✖ |─REGINALD LIGHTWOOD

❝ You fared really well out there, my son. You have once again made me a proud father. ❞

A somewhat arrogant smirk crept upon the younger Lightwood's countenance. However, the instance was very brief.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ I have succeeded in meeting your expectations, then. My own, too. ❞

Reginald nodded to himself in approval, uncertain if Keelan noticed it.

| ✖ |─REGINALD LIGHTWOOD

❝ And perhaps those of Ryan Omega, as well? ❞

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ Perhaps. It's far too early to tell. One match tells but a fraction of the whole story. ❞

Keelan's words of wisdom were met with yet another approving nod from Reginald who suddenly thought back to how his son had treated himself in the ring five minutes prior. A trace of an evil grin began to formulate on his visage as he reminisced, satisfied with the cold and calculated behavior Keelan displayed in his very first contest as an official Visionary.

| ✖ |─REGINALD LIGHTWOOD

❝ You did exactly what you set out to do. You entered the battlefield under observant pairs of eyes and you left the owners of those eyes with gaping mouths. ❞

Even though Keelan was used to such praise, garnering it from his entire family as well as those he trained under in Japan, it never ceased to make him feel proud and accomplished. He was fully aware of what he did in the ring on Breakthrough #50 and how he put all of his competition to shame. And maybe there was a part of him that didn't need a constant reminder of the feat but his ego was a bit more than willing to accept any and every compliment that was tossed his way.

Slightly imperious, Keelan, too, recalled the lifespan of his match, realizing just how much of a one-man show it was. A small grin was about to appear but Keelan fought it off before it could fully form, able to retain a neutral expression.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ The best and most personally satisfying thing in all of this was my dominance. I proved to Dazi that she is nothing like a queen. I took away from her the one and only chance she had to stand victorious in her debut. Nobody knows when──or if──we will see Jessica and Leo again. ❞

| ✖ |─REGINALD LIGHTWOOD

❝ And amidst all the surrounding pandemonium, you saved some for me, too. ❞

The reference to what transpired after Keelan was done embarrassing his opponents caused a set of evil grins to accentuate each Lightwood's face as they looked at one another, Keelan letting out a semi-loud scoff.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ What kind of a son would I be if I didn't allow my very own father to get a taste of the action? ❞

Keelan continued to smirk devilishly while his father allowed an evil laugh to escape his throat. In true Lightwood fashion, Reginald seemed to be incredibly proud of his devious handiwork.

| ✖ |─REGINALD LIGHTWOOD

❝ It is a struggle for me to believe that Leo Dempsey is older than you by a few months because compared to you, he's just a boy. I'm telling you, son, it felt pretty damn good to swing this stick at him out there. I am beyond content. ❞

Smiling hellishly, Reginald lifted his right arm up to approximately his chest, exposing the Zantetsuken which was in his tight grasp. This allowed for a better view of the murder weapon. Keelan quickly tilted his head to the right and laid his eyes on the wooden walking stick. He then offered his thoughts on the matter, pride visibly accompanying the tone of his voice.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ The Zantetsuken has officially reached a victim count of one. ❞

| ✖ |─REGINALD LIGHTWOOD

❝ There will be plenty more to come. Trust me. ❞

A very brief laugh came out of Reginald's mouth before he pulled the Zantetsuken closer to his face. He slammed his lips on the handle of the stick, giving a kiss to his most prized possession. The symbolic act was then followed by yet another laugh that emanated from within him.

| ✖ |─REGINALD LIGHTWOOD

❝ Speaking of victims──any idea about who you might be tasked with defeating next? ❞

Keelan allowed himself a couple of moments to think about the answer, though he gave no physical hints that he was engaging in a thinking process. A long pause with deafening silence ensued and Keelan's head was filled with various different thoughts as they clashed within his system. One by one, he went through every possible candidate for his next victim. “The Alpha Fiend” tried his hardest to read the minds behind the VoW management and eventually, his thorough analysis brought him to a conclusion──one that typically wouldn't take as much time to come to.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ I cannot know for certain. I reckon the competition will get tougher from here on out and I expect that to be the case. I trust that the systematic destruction I unleashed on my opponents on Breakthrough has opened a lot of eyes. But who knows, maybe they will simply throw another hopeful in my already pernicious path? ❞

Having said that out loud, Keelan quickly realized that he was perfectly at peace with the idea of putting the hopes and dreams of the younger talent to rest. Whether the competition got more challenging or not didn't really matter to him──he just wanted to advance in his career by adding more and more names to what in his mind will eventually become an ever-growing list of conquered adversaries. And the different ways in which those adversaries would be introduced to the list didn't matter, either.

Keelan's words were left without a response. Not that Reginald was being dismissive of them, he had just run out of things to say. Keelan understood completely as he battled to remove the tight-fitting arm sleeve he had put on his right arm prior to the match. The skin underneath the sleeve was entirely soaked in sweat but it didn't seem to bother him much. After all, he had agreed to sweat profusely when he made the decision to wrestle for a living.

Having strolled for quite a while, Reginald and Keelan finally arrived at the door that led to the locker room. Reginald opened the door and respectfully allowed his son in first before following closely behind. He shut the door in a gentle fashion, thinking to himself for a brief period of time and then walking over to where his son's gear was located. Elsewhere, Keelan had already hurried himself to a victory shower──his first of many to follow.

On the night of his successful debut in Visionaries of Wrestling, Keelan had traveled back to the hotel along with his father. He had locked the door that led to what was his own private place for as long as he had to stay within the borders of the state of Maryland and he had switched off the lights in an attempt to allow himself some such sleep following such a hectic and exhausting day. It was only natural that he had felt tired that night yet he had miserably failed to fall asleep. But it wasn't because of any anxiety regarding his professional life. Instead, it was the fact that he had forced himself to come to a decision. Yet that night, Keelan had slept like a baby but only after he had been able to make up his mind.

The morning after, Keelan had announced to his father the decision to book a flight to his hometown of Thunder Bay, Ontario. Keelan had presented his father with the same problem that hadn't initially allowed him to get any sleep. As a result, lengthy negotiations had ensued between the son and the father, during which Reginald had decided to remain in the Baltimore hotel throughout Keelan's trip to Canada, knowing his son wouldn't neglect his duty of being back in time for his next match.

The 888-mile flight from Baltimore to Thunder Bay had taken a good few hours to complete. After several months, Keelan was finally back home again. He was feeling the effects of having stayed in place through the entire flight and he felt like he had to learn how to walk again. But he had decided that in the end, it was all worth it. He understood that he had a few days to relax and take it easy before he would have to go back to being stuck in Maryland like the rest of the VoW roster.

As soon as Keelan arrived at his doorstep, he realized that he had forgotten how beautiful his home was. It was rather extravagant and far from the cheapest flats out there but it was his own. He had bought it with the money he had earned for himself through performing various tasks for his father's company. Year after year, he had made it a mission of his to remain focused on achieving a balance between his work and his dream──and he had succeeded.

The large couch in his living room was caressing Keelan now with its comfortable, firm hold. Right in front of him was a black table on which stood a glass of red wine he had poured himself a minute or two prior; the bottle itself was beside the glass on its left side. Keelan glanced over to his bookshelf, noticing his collection of comic book which he was a big fan of. He stood up from the couch, which had begun to warm on the specific spot Keelan had sat on, and walked over to the bookshelf. His cold, blue eyes examined the title of each comic as Keelan was trying to decide which one to read.

Suddenly, he found his attention divert from the comic books. Keelan noticed that next to the comic books stood a black-covered photo album. Hastily, he completely abandoned the comics and grabbed the heavy photo album from the shelf. He sat on the couch again, unsure of what to feel, the collection of photographs resting on his lap. Keelan flung the lightly dusty front cover open and delved into his colorful past that was immortalized in these pictures. He could see the years pass by as he scanned each picture carefully, his mind linking the corresponding story to every single one of the photos. Slow but steady continued to be his pace when he flicked through more than a decade's worth of memories, some of them on the funny side, some more embarrassing and cringe worthy. As he neared the end of the memory lane, he stumbled across what he knew to be the dearest and the most significant picture of them all.

Said picture was taken in Japan in late-2006 and it featured a twelve-year-old Keelan posing with his late mother, Alyssa. It had been one of the very few times Alyssa had been able to go to Japan to see her younger son and the historic moment was immediately captured as an image. Keelan removed the picture from its shelter and ran his right hand across it as if to cherish it. Occasionally, there were times when Keelan could hear his mother's voice. He wasn't insane and he was fully aware that such occasions were nothing more than figments of his own imagination. Still, he had this weird tendency of responding to the voice and everything it said.

Finished reliving his memories, Keelan put the photo back and placed the album beside him on the couch after having swung the cover shut. He rose up and reached to grab the glass that imprisoned his favorite drink. Walking over to the terrace, Keelan noticed that it was a beautiful night, albeit it was a little cool outside. He looked up and saw how the stars and the moon had aligned to decorate the night sky. Keelan took a small sip from his wine, enjoying the taste. For a reason even Keelan himself didn't know, he failed to take his eyes off of the sky.

Then, he found himself falling victim to one of those occasions. He flinched slightly upon suddenly hearing the voice that belonged to her mother──that soft, soothing voice that Keelan had not gotten to hear all that much in his life. In his mind, his mother spoke to him, echoing of course, reflecting on exactly what had transpired in Keelan's life in the past few days, as if she knew.

| ✖ |─ALYSSA'S VOICE

❝ Congratulations are in order for your first victory. In doing so, you extinguished the fires of Leo, Jessica and Dazi while setting your own alight. You make me proud, Keelan. ❞

A proud smile made its way onto Keelan's face as he stared at the big moon. Once again, he was unable to let his mother's words pass without a response. Keelan felt obliged, almost possessed, to reply──even though he knew nobody would be able to hear him.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ Thank you, mother. ❞

The voice ignored Keelan's respectful phrase, moving on to other, more important things.

| ✖ |─ALYSSA'S VOICE

❝ Now, my son, the higher-ups have given you the mission to defeat Elskerinne, the cavalry for the people. You must find the power within yourself to stop Elskerinne from poisoning the entire wrestling community. You must rid VoW of her so she cannot make that company her personal circus in which people have fun and laugh. I know such power exists within you, Keelan. Use it against her and show no mercy. ❞

Keelan grew slightly annoyed as his mother's voice reminded him of how Elskerinne liked to play savior. His face formed a concentrated look and he nodded to himself, casting his gaze to the ground beneath his feet and speaking confidently.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ I despise such people as Elskerinne. All they care about is doing heroic deeds just so the people can look up to them and proclaim them as heroes. I agree with you, mother, I must put an end to such drivel. ❞

Keelan closed his eyes and calmed himself down. He could picture his mother offering him nods of approval and telling him how good of a son he was. The voice rung out again, causing Keelan's eyes to be forced open.

| ✖ |─ALYSSA'S VOICE

❝ Don't forget to spread knowledge about the existence of our family──the family of monsters and fiends that I willingly married into. Educate those around you with this information and let them know who we are. But you need to make sure not to lead them to believe that your sacrifices as a wrestler are not for the fame that tends to come with the business. That is the task I'm giving you. ❞

Keelan succumbed to another process of gathering his thoughts. A few moments passed and Keelan was ready with his reply but before he could utter it out, Alyssa's voice interrupted him.

| ✖ |─ALYSSA'S VOICE

❝ Defeat Elskerinne and send her sheep-like followers into a deep depression──one it will take them a long time to recover from. Earn yourself an even more prominent place under the eyes of those who are watching every step you take. Make them believe that you are the chosen one. Force your naysayers to choke on their own words. Do it for yourself and do it for our family. ❞

Motivated to fulfill the desires of his “mother” and of his own, Keelan lifted his head up and his eyes began to examine the dark sky again. In one swift motion, he lifted his glass up and aimed it at the moon as if to give his respect to Alyssa. Next, he poured the remaining half a glass of wine down his throat, one-shotting it. He swallowed it and glanced at the empty glass, thinking out loud.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ I will not be stopped in my quest to achieve greatness. Besides, who is there to stop me? Leo, Dazi and Jessica did not stand a chance and it makes me wonder if Elskerinne thinks she can do it. I'm more than ready to prove to her that she is destined to fall just like those three failed. A woman who possesses an attitude such as Elskerinne's will be but a roadblock. It damn sure is going to feel pleasant to tear asunder the ideals that seem to excite her to such a level that she believes she can beat me. ❞

A wicked smile came into sight on Keelan's face and he couldn't help it. He felt like his blood was boiling with excitement and he no longer felt the atmospheric coldness that dwelled outside not too long ago. Inadvertently, the grip Keelan had of the glass tightened and he realized it. His blue eyes shifted to examine the empty glass, leading Keelan to believe that it served a symbolic meaning.

In his mind, the nothingness that was currently lingering within the glass was comparable to the nearly nonexistent probability of him falling before Elskerinne's feet.

Nothing. That was the only thing the camera was able to provide. Blackness devoured every single inch of the screen and nothing──nobody──could be seen. However, in a stark contrast, something could be heard. The soothing sound of pouring rain as it crash-landed into the ground was clearly audible. Opposing──yet still accompanying──the sound of the rain were continuous, resonant rumbles of thunder that gave the impression of being in the immediate vicinity, making the milieu seem a little frightening. The view still failed to give any hint as to what exactly was going on but it was almost as if specific preparations were being made in secret.

Through the enriching sounds of the natural phenomena, a deep voice echoed. Said voice was rather distantly familiar to certain people and it belonged to none other than the skilfully deceitful Reginald Lightwood.

| ✖ |─REGINALD LIGHTWOOD

❝ It is done. ❞

Almost immediately afterwards, a second voice rung out and it offered a direct, featureless response to Reginald's announcement. This voice, in turn, was obviously property of Keelan Lightwood.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ Perfect. ❞

At this time, the sounds caused by the rain and the thunder began to fade but they still managed to remain audible. Seconds passed and then the camera was finally at liberty to reveal the setting that had until this moment been completely shrouded in mystery.

The scene opened up fully and it depicted what could be characterized as the remains of an abandoned living room. The camera stood on the left side of the room, making visible a stoic Keelan Lightwood who stood there in the center of the room, his left side facing the camera. Interestingly, Reginald did not seem to be present anywhere despite his voice having been heard earlier. A little further from Keelan there stood a fireplace while behind the man, slightly to the right, a beige-colored leather couch decorated the creepy-looking room. However, those were not the only objects in the room. Right in front of Keelan, an object veiled with a large black cloth had been prepared. Even though the article was obscured, the shape suggested that it was some kind of an easel.

Keelan began to pace around the room and the fascinating device, failing to pay much attention to it. His shoes created soft thuds as his steps landed on the wooden floor, the echoes of which ricocheted off the walls. Keelan's slow, methodical steps co-occurred with the haunting tone in his voice as he began to speak, maintaining a neutral look on his bearded visage.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ Elskerinne. Lady E. Elsky. Sirkusdirektør. From what I gather, such names are commonly used to describe the woman who now finds herself in a predicament. After a triumphant return to the company on the very same show where I dominated, Elskerinne is now forced to come face-to-face with what she fears the most──reality. ❞

Keelan discontinued his light stroll and found himself a favorable place where he began to stand, right next to the clothed object. His cold gaze focused more on the camera now and he appeared as if he was talking to his Breakthrough #51 opponent directly.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ Elskerinne, I would like to congratulate you. After an absence of a couple of months, you proved that you still possess the ability to choose the right words when talking to the fans. Your dramatic charisma created a laid-back atmosphere and it demonstrated just how powerful your approach was. The people took the bait and bought every word that came out of that sly mouth of yours. Either they cheered you or they respectfully listened to your proclamations──even when you said that the same company of which those people are big fans had become trash. And this is where you fall off the track, Elskerinne. You fail to even consider the fact that those people are incredibly gullible and easy to manipulate. By now, I'm sure that you are more than aware that the response me and my father received from the fanatics when we were making our exist from the arena was strongly on the negative side. Yet I can guarantee you that each of those insignificant worms would give me their adulation and admiration if I so desired. All I would need to do is pander to them, say one good thing about them or praise their hometown. But I choose to not do any of that because if I did, I would be a liar. A lie would come out of my mouth if I lauded the parents for the job they have done raising their children and a lie would come out of my mouth if I told the kids that they are great wrestling fans. But even more importantly than that, a lie would come out of my mouth if I told you that I care about whatever it is that they feel for me. ❞

Keelan's face turned sour with disgust and his pacing commenced again, albeit in a slightly different form. Now, he remembered to occasionally aim his hateful stare at the camera.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ I admit that I have recently failed in doing something. For days now, I have spent considerable time trying to decipher you, Elskerinne. I have been dying to come up with a sensible theory that would explain your undying love for the people. I have striven to get into that poisonous mind of yours and thoroughly examine your mindset, your ideals. In each attempt that I have taken, I haven't been able to come up with an answer that felt satisfactory. Why do you care so much about the people? What is it that makes you love them almost the same way a parent loves their child? What exactly have those people given you in exchange? The adulation and the cheers they inflate your ego with are only a product of your own achievement. Their gullibility severely clouds their judgement, as evidenced by the fact that they fail to realize that you're only using them to market yourself as a hero. Little do those sheep know, there is one other fact that I have the pleasure of realizing and which they will not take into account. That fact is something much bleaker than your false advertising. ❞

A devilish and wicked smile made its way onto the face of the young Canadian as he was preparing himself to reveal what he believed to be a dark truth.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ On the sixteenth of June of this year, a match between you and Tyler Storm took place on the grandest stage this company can possibly offer, Fate of the Gods. During the back and forth contest, Storm appeared to have suffered some kind of a back injury. Yes, Elskerinne, at your hands. You crippled poor Tyler into such a condition that an emergency surgery had to performed on him immediately after his carcass was removed from public sight. You not only took months away from his in-ring career but you also took a beloved superstar away from the people for the same amount of time. Now, nobody knows the next time we will see Tyler Storm walk through those curtains again as an active competitor and the blame falls entirely on your shoulders. You must have been crushed by the guilt, correct? In any case, I applaud you for shelving an adversary. What irritates me, though, is that in doing so, you stepped on my toes. You have to realize that the careers of people such as Tyler Storm are not yours to kill. They're mine. ❞

The grin Keelan possessed grew even more heinous but it returned to neutral when Keelan continued.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ But to say that that was the only time you stepped on my toes would be a gross manipulation of the truth. You and your sole purpose of trying to make as many people laugh as you can have been stepping on my toes for a long period of time, dating back to long before I was even signed to VoW. See, you only seek to put smiles on people's faces and entertain them to the best of your ability──which, in the business we have chosen to indulge ourselves in, translates to being here for all the wrong reasons. This is not a circus where nothing can ever go wrong. In wrestling, people are kept on the edges of their seats because nobody can guarantee that bones won't be broken or that careers or even lives will not be shortened. And that's something you might want to consider given how deeply you care about your fans. I am here because I want to hurt my preys before I lead them to their deaths and if I can't spill enough blood, I will grow aggravated more quickly than you can recite the word “entertain.” I am here to win so I could fulfill my life and justify all the hard work it has taken me to get to this point. I am on this path for all the right reasons while you, my friend, have deviated from that path with severity. ❞

A very quick pause followed, after which Lightwood continued with a brief remark.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ Now, Elskerinne, allow me to show you something. Father, if you would, please. ❞

Right on cue, Reginald appears out from the shadows. He walks over to the veiled object and grabs a tight hold of the cloth that covered it. He swung his right arm, removing the cloth and fully exposing what was now revealed as, indeed, an easel. Reginald disappeared once again and the camera became more focused on the wooden easel. Comfortably resting on it was a painting of Elskerinne herself, painted almost perfectly with a professional touch to it. Keelan examined the breathtaking work for a moment, then focusing on telling his opponent the reason why it was painted.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ This right here is a beautiful painting of you, Elskerinne. As you can see, it is painted entirely in black and red, my personal favorite colors. Those colors were chosen for a reason that goes beyond my preferences in colors, however. Black is the color that represents the darkness that resides within each and every person that currently walks on this planet. Black is what my heart would be if I had one. The color black is also an allusion to what the world is like in two thousand and sixteen. It is ravaged by wars, hunger, terrorism and by the liars in the form of greedy state leaders who keep promising us a better future but who are willing to do absolutely nothing to keep their promise. And red? Red is the color of blood. That very liquid is what keeps me alive and it is what I agreed to give to this business when I started. I have lost a lot of blood already and I will continue to lose even more but what feeds my hunger and keeps me satisfied is knowing that I will get chances to extract that same liquid from other people as I go along. As I alluded to earlier, I intend to take the careers of a lot of people and bury them in my own personal graveyard. The lives and careers of my co-workers don't mean a damn thing to me. And even though I initially guarded it as a secret, I guess I can allow the world to know my true motif. What is already known around the world is that Keelan Lightwood is on a mission to climb the entire proverbial ladder in VoW, starting from the very bottom. But what only a select few people are aware of is that I have every intention of using my competition here as nothing more than pawns that will be cast aside as soon as I am done with them. Why, you may ask? Well, what else does one do with tools? And you are not exempt from this fate, Elskerinne. I will treat you the same way I will treat everybody else. My co-workers here? I don't see them as competition, at least not as much as I see them as stepping stones. I don't see them as people, I see them as my personal tools. Yet I find it ironic that I need those tools to unlock the locked doors I will inevitably encounter in my chosen path. ❞

Following the revelation of what motivates him, a certain darkness seemed to have wrapped itself around the fiendish Keelan. He snapped his fingers once and again, like a puppet, his father appeared on cue. He repeated his previous action of walking over to the painting but this time he lifted the easel up and began carrying it somewhere. That “somewhere” appeared to be outside the dim room, right under the cold rain and the occasional rumblings of thunder that were preceded by angry and heavy strikes of lightning. Reginald allowed the easel back into the ground and he disappeared again soon thereafter. His son, however, had a different agenda. Keelan became visible on the screen once more, not at all fazed by the pouring rain that quickly soaked the long coat he was wearing. He took his place in front of the painting and looked at it with resolve. Before long, the rain smudged the piece of art and the colors gradually became nothing more than an unrecognizable mess of black and red.

| ✖ |─KEELAN LIGHTWOOD

❝ Watch, Elskerinne, as your legacy gets smudged into oblivion and know that I am the one who did this to you. I have read out loud to you the sins that you are responsible for committing and what will take place on the sixteenth of September is my obligatory retaliation. You sent Tyler Storm into surgery before me and for that, I will never forgive you. But what gives me comfort in this situation is the thought that when he eventually returns, I get to do the job you stole from me and send him right back to the hospital bed. Before that day could come, though, I need to make sure that you don't interfere in my business again. I need to show the people that the beacon of hope you so eloquently spoke about on Breakthrough fifty is merely a fallacy. You are full of facades, Elskerinne, and I can see right through all of them. So go on, Lady E, dismiss me as an inexperienced rookie with no manners. Strike me down as another chapter in the book of your triumphant return if it helps you enter your nightly slumber. But come the fifty-first Breakthrough, I will defeat you and I will force you into admitting me as your superior. You will be left wondering where you went wrong and when your people ask you why you failed in your simple task of defeating a newcomer, the only thing you can say to them is “I don't know.” ❞

Like that, Keelan's little exhibition had climaxed and reached its denouement. The man responsible for possessing such a sharp tongue remained still in his position and those cold blue eyes of his were still fixated on the untidy and thoroughly soaked piece of paper that once was beautiful a piece of art. The rain continued to fall down in a speed and steady pace and the number of lightning strikes appeared to have increased as well. Eventually, the eerie scene faded into a state of darkness──the very state the feed had been birthed from.