Monday at 02:21 PM4 days [Scene: A dimly lit, grimy backstage area at KØЯ∃ Wrestling. The air is thick with tension. The camera feed crackles slightly, giving the moment an unsettling, vintage horror-film aesthetic. Damien Kostich, the towering behemoth, stands motionless in the shadows, his piercing, unfeeling eyes locked on the camera. His chest rises and falls like a dormant volcano waiting to erupt. Beside him, pacing back and forth like a serpent coiled to strike, is his manager—Maxx Vile, a weaselly, sharp-dressed figure with a grin that oozes venom.]Maxx Vile:He slicks back his greasy hair, his grin widening as he steps closer to the camera, his voice a raspy whisper that drips with malice.“Y’know… I keep hearin’ a lot of talk about this Kaito Ishikawa kid. ‘The Prodigy of Strong Style,’ they call him. A rising star. A warrior. A man who never backs down.”Maxx lets out a dry, mocking chuckle, shaking his head.“That’s cute. That’s real cute. But lemme tell ya somethin’, Kaito—I don’t care how many kicks you throw. I don’t care how many forearm smashes you can land before your arms go numb. And I sure as hell don’t care about how much heart you got pumping in that undersized chest of yours. Because heart? Spirit? That don’t mean a damn thing when you’re standing in the path of an extinction-level event.”Maxx gestures towards Damien, who has yet to move an inch—his eerie stillness making him seem more like a force of nature than a man.“This… this thing standing behind me? He ain’t human. He ain’t a wrestler. Damien Kostich is the end of all things. He’s the creeping shadow you see in your nightmares. The weight on your chest when you wake up in a cold sweat at 3 AM, gasping for air. And at KØЯ∃ Assault V, Kaito, you’re gonna learn firsthand what happens when a man—no, a mere mortal—steps into the ring with a walking apocalypse.”Maxx grins again, but there’s no warmth—only wicked amusement.“You’re gonna fight with all you got, ain’t ya? Yeah… you’re gonna throw everything at him. Your speed. Your strikes. Your spirit. And for a fleeting moment, maybe, maybe you’ll think you’ve got a shot. But then…”He slowly turns, his grin fading as he looks up at Damien, who finally shifts—a deep, guttural breath escaping his lips, his knuckles cracking with ominous finality.“…Then, you’ll feel it. The hands of the inevitable wrapping around your throat. And that’s when it all sets in.”Maxx steps back, letting the monstrous Damien Kostich loom closer into the light, his face still emotionless, his presence suffocating.“There’s no escape, Kaito. No hero’s comeback. No last-second victory. There’s just Damien Kostich… and the void he’s about to throw you into.”Maxx lets out a sharp cackle before slamming his palm against Damien’s massive chest, his voice rising into a near-ecstatic whisper.“Tell ‘im, big man. Tell ‘im what happens when they step in the ring with you.”Damien finally stirs, his deep, rumbling voice like the sound of distant thunder rolling over a dying landscape.Damien Kostich:“…They break.”[Static. The feed cuts to black.]
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