Welcome to Gaia! ::

The lights dim around the arena, until it is in pitch-blackness. A muffled sound - unclear as to what it truly is - begins to play, with blurred flashes appearing on the titantron. People. Wrestlers? It was unclear, but they cut fast, many different blurred faces showing. It then cut to black, becoming silent, before gold writing appears on the titantron...


The Future Is Bright
The Future... Is Me


The Edge of Paradise suddenly bursts out into the arena, announcing the arrival of the next superstar more boldly than golden writing ever could. Lights began to shine all over the arena, golden in colour, with a single spotlight lingering over the stage. It would not be waiting long, however, as Legacy made his way out on to the stage. Staff in hand, with the Saint's Dojo coat of arms draped over his shoulder, he stood proudly, head held high atop his impressive stature, looking across the audience.

"Introducing first, weighing in at 300lbs... LEGACY!"

As the announcer finished his introduction, Legacy raised his staff into the air. As he did, lightning struck behind him, followed by an eruption of white fireworks. He held his staff high, his head slowly turning towards the ring, his eyes transfixed into a sinister glare. With intent to hurt, Legacy began his march to the ring, his stare unmoving, his will unflinching. An indomitable, yet violent spirit emanating from him.

Once he reached the ring, he forcefully pulled himself up on to the apron, using the middle rope as a pulley to help him there. He stood for a moment, eyes transfixed on the far audience. As he stood there, he began to raise his staff to his side, holding it adjacent to his body. He didn't hold it there long; after a brief moment, he released it from his grasp, letting it drop to the ground outside the ring. As soon as it hit the floor, he swiftly and aggressively entered the ring through the middle rope, stepping forward to the centre of the ring, ready to fight! However, before that could happen, he motioned to the ringside crew. Legacy wanted a microphone. It seems he had something to get off of his chest.

When he first lifted the microphone to speak, no words came out of his mouth. Instead, the speakers arena-wide vibrated with the sound of his heavy breathing. Was he choking? No... he was just angered. The speaking began in due time, with a guttural bass in Legacy's voice.

"So, we're live now? On TV? Isn't that... interesting."

A grim smirk grew across his face, his head twisting around the audience.

"It's a funny thing, television. It... opens doors. It leads to knew faces - both viewers and the poor, unsuspecting wrestlers who come in to BBW. Misguided warriors who wander through these doors, thinking that they'll get their shot at the gold. That they'll walk in, put their names forward, and the men in charge will let them go as far as their own ability will take them. That regardless of creed, race, family or gender, they will be able to reach the top of the mountain if they just... keep... trying. The American Dream, ladies and gentlemen, the very definition of it. It's a creed we all came here for. One that we live by. A monument to the great men and women of America's past. A belief, a foundation on which your society was built."

Whether Legacy had intended for it or not, the audience soon broke out into a USA chant. Fruitful enough. At least they were listening.

"Yes! USA! USA, and so forth. You Americans, you love your patriotism... you love your ideals. Since the constitution was written, you've always banged on about your 'God-given' constitutional rights, your Bill of Rights and your First amendment. And I'm glad. Truly, I am. I love the notions of freedom and liberty that you all hold... as truly stupid as some of you are, they are the one notion about this sickening country I cannot fault. Because, as an ambassador from foreign nations - from greener pastures - I am about to indulge in these ideals. I am going to use your past, in the hopes of giving you a future worth having!"

The USA chants continued, mixed in with a spatter of booing. Legacy may have been offending them, but many of them were too embroiled in their own fervour to truly notice.

"Earlier tonight... we all witnessed an announcement. One which shook the foundations of BBW - one which will impact it's... LEGACY... forever. BBW. Is. Now. Live. Live on television! Fantastic. Great. Truly, I'm impressed. If anybody is deserving of this, it's Matt Shanahan. He's lived a long life, a hard one. He's earned his story, and there are more pages to come. But, there is one mistake that he made. Just one. One which... annoys me."

Legacy's grin dropped into a blank scowl. His emotions were fluttering like a moth in a blood-soaked flame.

"In the shows opening, yes, we were told the show went live. We were told that there would be a new championship, the BBW TV championship! Fantastic! Truly, the American Dream is being realised! Opportunity! A true sign that... the future... is here in BBW. But... that isn't what bothered me. What bothered me was what came after that. As you all saw, the announcement was made by one Kelly King."

The audience erupted. King was a much-loved monarch, adored by even the most cynical wrestling fans. His reach was as far-reaching as his skill, and everybody recognised this. Legacy waited a brief second - not taken aback by the noise, but letting is subside so that he could be heard again.

"Yes. A much-loved man. Truly, truly wonderful. Another man deserving of his history, another man whose story I hope continues long into the future. But, you must see BBW, even Kelly King is capable of making a mistake. A mistake that I can summarise in one word - nepotism.

For all of you... inbred people out there, let me explain; nepotism is a certain... favouritism, given by higher-ups, to their relatives. To their family. To their... sons. For King - our head of talent relations - mentioned after that two opponents had been chosen for the main event. Two wrestlers chosen by Shanahan and himself. I'm sure you all know by now - and I'd apologise if this ruins any surprise for you, you may want to invest in an internet connection in the future - that one of those wrestlers bears a... a striking name. A name of a great wrestling house. A man steeped in his family's legacy. One named... Serenno King."

Once again, the crowd reacted - a mix this time. Serenno's pomp was apparently not suited to everyone's liking, as a few harsh boos echoed the thoughts of some crowd members, but the reaction for him was strong.

"Now, herein lies the problem, BBW. Herein lies your greatest fault. You chose a man who 'earned a shot.' A man who earned it... by losing his match? Let me throw an idea out there. Serenno didn't earn his place by competing... Serenno earned his place by being born to the right person."

The audience began to boo heavily at what Legacy was implying. These were heavy accusations - words which would undoubtedly be taken seriously by both management and talent backstage.

"And yet, here I stand. I didn't lose my match at Spring in the Ring. I made my debut, against a Thor wannabe. A cheap, knock-off cash grab movie tie-in. And I won. But do I get considered for the championship match? If I had to bet, I'd say that my name was not even mentioned. It wasn't even on the tongues of management. But it should be. By giving this match to Serenno - a loser - management spits in the face of the American Dream! They spit in the face of American values! Serenno, you may come from a famous - a successful - family. But so do I. Not by blood. By virtue of seeking it. I wasn't born into the Saint's Dojo. I wasn't trained because my father was a wrestler. I was trained because I sought it. I was trained because I had the dedication - nay, the willpower - to force myself to greatness. My legacy is not one of a great house, or a strong family. My legacy is one of loss, of betrayal. When my master killed himself, I was alone. I didn't have my brothers and sisters. I had myself. But that was enough. Enough to get here. Enough to fight, and enough to win.

I am not ashamed of my past... but I am ashamed of where my future is heading. I win a match, at BBW's Pay-Per-View. And I return, this week, to find that not only have I been overlooked for a championship opportunity, looked over in favour of, ironically, a legacy vote, but I have been booked in a throwaway match. A joke. Did you know, this match has been changed twice already tonight? From joke, to triple-threat joke, back to a joke again? For tonight, I don't get to glimpse gold. I get the shine... of Vaseline Man."

Legacy's rants had begun to break away from kayfabe, and he was becoming very much aware of this. He began to pace in the ring, as the crowd began to boo him. They wanted action, not ranting. Blood, not words.

"I expected better from Shanahan. He was a family friend, if you will. But he betrayed me. I expected better from a legend, but King betrayed me too. I didn't expect better from Serenno, a punk following his father. Blood is thicker than water, but when your blood runs blue, that makes you no better than me. But to him I say this, and I say the same to everybody who dares oppose me; the past catches up to everybody. Your faults will stack, and your house will come crumbling down. My house? My house is dead. I don't do this for the Saint's Dojo. I do this for ME. I do this for MY legacy! And when I become the champion of BBW, when I claw my way to the top, not through birthright, but through sheer grit and will, then you will know the past is gone, and the future is here. You will know that the past is no longer around to hold your head afloat.

The Future is bright...

The Future... is me.

Legacy!

Remember my name, or be crushed by it. Remember my name, and be crushed by it. You will watch my rise, and you will all regret the day you looked down on me. You will regret your nepotism. You will regret holding me back!

Bring out my opponent! Let him be the first to fall to the future!"

Legacy had worked himself into a berserker frenzy. He tossed the microphone out of the ring, tensing his arms with a roar. He turned towards the entrance ramp, pacing back and forth, ready to crush his slippery foe.