Cross slowly got to his feet, unsteady as they were, and looked down at the mess that was formerly Atrocity. He moved away towards the center of the stage at an unhurried pace and peeled his mask away, revealing a smirk, and a great deal of his own blood. He looked out to the fans and knew that he was different walking away from this match than he was when he walked in. And the fans, they knew it too. He may have walked in to cheering, but with this one act of deceit he would be leaving to boos and jeers. He could live with that. He casually backed up into the backstage area, waving goodbye to the fans, the smirk never leaving his face. He had changed and he was loving it.