As the fans had begun to settle in for a night of action, the arena goes black, drawing attention to the titantron. Almost as dark as the arena, there was nothing to see, the screen lingering in darkness... that is, until a sudden flash of light burst forth, slowly darkening. When it had finished fading, the only thing left illuminated, lit from below, was the face of a strange, new man. A man whose eyes seemed dead to the world.

"Oh... Hello, WWF:G Universe."

The man let out a wry laugh, laced with a half-hearted smile.

"Let me introduce myself. I had a name like all of you, once. Painfully normal. But I chose a new name. A stronger name. You may call me.. Legacy."

Legacy, now known to the WWF:G Universe, shifted his head to the right, staring off into space. All expression drained from his face, just for a brief moment, before that insincere smile returned, and his gaze shifted back to the camera.

"It's a fine day for legacies, isn't it? A man, named Legacy, debuting at a show called 'Legacies.' Hell, you even have a rather illustrious 'Legacy' championship! It's all... very... coincidental, don't you think?

But, hey, what do I know of legacies, right? I'm a new guy! I have nothing to my name!

... Except... there is one thing."

Legacy leaned in closer to the camera, his face more illuminated than before. His facade of a smile crumbled, his lips dropping into a displeasured snarl.

"But I wonder, how many of you even remember that far back? The fans aren't know for their memory. It's sad, really. You see, WWF:G fans - and crew, too - you don't know me. But I know you. I know ALL of you, far better then any man in my position should.

See, I didn't just take the name 'Legacy' because it sounded good. No. My name means something to me. It represents all that a legacy should. It tells me that I come from somewhere... special. Somewhere very few come from, and nobody will ever come from again. My legacy... is the legacy of the Saint's Dojo.

The Legacy... of Saint -********- Joey."

Legacy paused for a second, his eyes glazing over. No doubt, a moment of recognition for his fallen master. He quickly snaps out of it, his eyes jolting back to the camera's lens, in a deep, intent focus.

"But why is that important? Why should that matter, right, fans? He's dead. He's gone, and he's never coming back. He turned his back on you. Hell, he turned his back on WWF:G long before he died. So much so that when it came for him to be inducted into the WWF:G Hall Of Fame? He literally spat at the idea. He stood on a podium, and denounced this company. He denounced the men running it. He denounced the fans. You see, WWF:G, I know you, through a lens that you only hear of in legends and fairytales. The lens of a blood-feud, between my master and a federation.

But, now he's gone... and here I am. The future of the Saint's Dojo. The Legacy. A legacy of hate. A legacy of violence. And as I stand here, in the legacy of Jed himself, at a show called 'Legacies'?
Let my intention be known.
I -will- win the WWF:G Legacy championship. And as I wear the gold that bears my name around my waist, you will know, that the Legacy of Jed, of the WWF:G, and now the legacy of one Salem Croft, died that day. You will know, that a new legacy, born of old, but oh so new, has begun.

The future is bright, WWF:G. The future... is me."

Legacy inhales deeply through his nose, a new smile returning. Not a condescending fake smile, but a genuine, terrifying smile. A smile of hatred. A smile of the future.

The screen fades to black, and the show continues, as if nothing had happened...