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Salem's heel connected with the back of Bison's skull, driving the big man back to earth with a sickening crack! No sooner had Salem brought his feet back to the mat, however, would Three spring into action - bouncing up and to his feet before charging Salem like a man possessed.

The size and force of Three as he sprinted across the ring was enough to catch the winded Salem off-guard, and the impact of their collision sent Salem back against the ropes and over them..bouncing hard against the punishing steel cage, beyond. The jolting impact momentarily reminded Salem of just how much of a beating he'd sustained thus far in the match, and with his adrenaline faded from his veins, the familiar aches and pains of war began to settle in.

Clutching his chest and ribs, Salem couldn't respond in time before Three slid between the ropes and steel in pursuit, grabbing the battered champion up to sling him head-first into the merciless steel wall that confined them. Bouncing from the cage in a daze, Salem's head would feel fuzzy and clouded as his body became light - courtesy of the burst of power from Three that sent the champ flying back into the ring with a sudden German Suplex. Bouncing off the canvas as he landed, Three's sudden show of strength would leave the hopeful upstart convulsing and writhing in pain as Bison still struggled to recover.

Salem could taste the bitter flavor of metal across his tongue as he lay face-down against the mat, but couldn't be sure if it was from having his face ground against the steel cage that encircled them or the fresh blood that was pooling out of his slacked jaw and onto the ring beneath him. His head was foggy, eyes glazed over and staring distantly at nothing in particular. Physically, he was a mangled heap. Mentally, Salem wasn’t much better. He had come into this match with something to prove, and the fans had affirmed his faith throughout the entire match, his belief that victory was within his grasp. Despite this, Salem felt thwarted at every turn, and it was becoming increasingly hopeless as he struggled to grasp the bottom rope and pull himself up to his feet.

By this point, tunnel vision had settled in – a side effect of the inhuman strain that had been put on Salem’s mind and body this entire bout. It was for that reason that Salem barely registered Three climbing the cage wall, ascending like a dark angel to the awe of the crowd while Salem’s strength brought him up to the second rope. However, like a vengeful archangel from the skies, Three leaped off the peak of the chain link and down onto Bison, crashing with enough force to rattle the ring and knock Salem’s grip back down to the bottom rung of the ring.

It was from the bottom rope that a glint of gold caught Salem’s eye from beyond the confines of the hellish cage. On the arena floor outside the ring laid the Asylum Championship, right where Salem had dropped it while being dragged into the ring by Three, earlier. The sight of it reminded Salem of how much was riding on this…not just the belt, but the name that was engraved across its emblem. “Salem Croft” – not too long ago, that was a name that few people knew. Now, it was one that made people pay for a seat just to stand and cheer it. But what did that name mean? Its definition was something to be determined by the outcome of this match, and Salem knew that he couldn’t give up without leaving everything – blood, sweat, and tears – across this hallowed mat. He wouldn’t rest until he was confident that he’d given it his all, and even in his broken state Salem felt he still had more to give. With a pained growl of determination, Salem reached up and grasped the second rope, then the third, just as Three was sitting up to collect his senses following the earth-shuddering splash.

Looking over at Three, Salem used the ropes for support and momentum to propel himself towards Bison and Three while the latter prepared to make a cover. Diving legs first, Salem threw his body across Bison and toward Three, trying to nail the groggy demon with a dropkick to the jaw before he could establish a pin. If Salem’s desperation attempt were successful, he’d inevitably land shoulder-first onto the awaiting Bison, and would hook the bovine calf of the Caribbean Colossus to attempt an immediate pin while Three and Bison were hopefully both reeling from the sudden impacts.

Salem felt a moment of rapture as his heels collided with Three's face and knocked the big man to the edge of the ring. Had he not been falling to the mat immediately following, Salem would've sworn he was weightless as his should fell into Bison's chest, hand hooking the back of the Colossus' knee to go for a quick cover. Salem held onto Bison's leg as though it were the last lifeline in a raging river, clutching it with his final gasps of strength...

"...One!"
"...Two!"
"...Three!"

...and it was barely enough. For three seconds, Salem managed to prove to the world he was the better of the three men presently in the ring, a feat that took much more out of him than one would have probably expected. The crowd came alight like a wildfire, fans cheering and shouting for the crazy conclusion to this Asylum Championship match.

But despite this, Salem was left with hardly any energy, barely maintaining the prerequisite amount to stand on his own volition as the referee held his hand high. Wrapping his spare arm around his chest to clutch his aching ribs, Salem tried to smile through the pain and bask in his moment of rest and victory.

Just as his eyes started to focus the blurs into lines and shapes, Salem felt himself being run forward against his will, forceful hands guiding him like a lawn dart into the support beam of the cage. His head pinging off the steel with a thud, Salem felt his body become sluggish and harder to move all of a sudden as his eyes scrambled about behind fluttering lids. It had appeared Three was intent to add insult to injury, attacking the vulnerable champion from behind while the crowd gasped in surprise and fear.