Welcome to Gaia! ::

After returning from a lengthy commercial break near the end of the show, the fans were still excited for what the remaining card had entailed. There were a lot of stories that had just begun their prologue at the Royal Rumble, and plenty of strong showings from each competitor. It was always what the fans didn't expect that brought them unanimously to their feet, however. Commentary stayed silent after being told my producers there was a last-second segment coming up next; the voices at the booth were just as unprepared as the millions of fans watching. They tried to anticipate what was next, but when they were completely thrown off by their scheduled programming, almost all of them marked out. It was the opening guitar riffs of "Red Eyes and Tears" brought every fan in attendance to their feet. The bright lights that had helped illuminate the crowd before had completely shut off, with the only lights now being the red laser lights that flickered across the stadium to the sound of the lead guitar. Fans who had been in complete shock, especially people who had been following AJ Warner his whole career, sang along with the opening lyrics.

RED EYES AND TEARS, NO MORE FOR YOU MY LOVE I FEAR
RED EYES AND TEARS, NO MORE FOR YOU MY LOVE I FEAR
NO MORE FEAR, NO MORE FEAR, I'M IN LOVE!

You would think the unanimous roar of the crowd couldn't become louder, and then the spotlight hit the top of the ramp to confirm the Suplex Shooter himself was in the World Wrestling Federation. He grinned from ear to ear at the sound of the audience, and put his hand perpendicular to his eyebrows like a salute, pretending to scan the audience throughout the darkness. AJ's chin had tightened up, looking emotional. Was he happy, sad, in awe? Nobody knew yet. Warner began his slow methodical march down the aisle way, slapping every outreached hand that came his way.

I'm losing sensation for you my love I fear.
Losing sensation for you my love I fear.
No more fear, no more fear, I'm in love.

I'm in love... Love... I'm in love...

Warner usually took his time with his entrances, but this was something else. Once he reached the foot of the ramp, he looked at the squared circle in front of him and gave a deep breath. Before he could enter it, he circled the ring, keeping his gaze fixated on the empty ring. He had his arm extended to make sure he gave a high-five to every fan who wanted one. But the Suplex Shooter's grin became a blank stare. Despite how much love he had felt from every spectator there, from the front row to the nosebleeds, he kept looking at the ring. Admiring it. Obsessing over it. How Warner had loved the way he could once bounce of those ropes, or trap his opponent in the corner, or throw someone from one end of the ring to another with his vicious variety of suplexes. He was now at the age of forty-one, and this sport took his toll on him more than just physically. Looking in his eyes for just a few moments would illustrate the story to a tee.

I'm losing the reasons to breathe, I never lived.
I'm losing the reasons to breathe, I never lived.
Never lived, never lived, I'm in love.

These are my reasons the truth is never filled.
These are my reasons the truth is never filled.
I'm never filled, never filled, I'm in love.

I'm in love... Love... I'm in love...

Once he had made three-quarters of a lap around the ring, Warner had jumped onto the apron and quickly climbed the turnbuckle in front of him. AJ hyped the crowd up by moving his arms and signaling each of them to get on their feet. He didn't need to do that, though -- they seemingly refused to let themselves fall into their seat just yet. Warner nodded his head before jumping back into the ring. Once he did, the lights came back on as the music faded into obscurity. The crowd started to holler again while AJ went and grabbed a microphone from the ring announcer. He had to soak this in. He didn't care how much time the figure heads had given him because this moment belonged to the former world champion. The former face of the anti-hero. The artist once known as the Bad Chyld who mysteriously turned into a good man. A chant had started up for the Suplex Shooter, one that was always chanted at his opponents rather than him.

AJ's GONNA KILLLLLL YOU!
AJ's GONNA KILLLLLL YOU!
AJ's GONNA KILLLLLL YOU!
AJ's GONNA KILLLLLL YOU!

And just like that, the tears started flowing. A couple of them quickly rolled down each cheek before AJ wiped his eyes, to rid himself of the incoming ones. He felt a tight knit in his throat and his chin was swollen as badly as any injury he had received. Finally, Warner raised the microphone to his lips and the crowd silenced themselves out of respect.

"In my eleven years of performing on a worldwide stage, that was the greatest crowd reaction I have ever had. Thank you."

Whether they were yelling in approval of themselves or the man standing before them, the crowd got loud again. They riled themselves up to start another chant for the aged veteran.

SUPLEX SHOOTER! *clap clap, clap-clap-clap*
SUPLEX SHOOTER! *clap clap, clap-clap-clap*
SUPLEX SHOOTER! *clap clap, clap-clap-clap*
SUPLEX SHOOTER! *clap clap, clap-clap-clap*

He couldn't help but lower the mic and laugh, the tears still streaming down his wrinkled face. AJ's cheeks had become bright red, a combination of crying like a baby and blushing from how the crowd had respected him for all he had did. Once more, AJ raised the microphone to his lips and the chants had faded away.

"It makes me proud to know that after all the horrible things I used to call you, after how much I used to resent you fans, you accepted me with open arms. Because one thing never changed: I - love - this - job."

There was another brief round of applause and whistling from the crowd. AJ had a deep grizzled voice but it was much softer and lighter than usual because of the emotions that had poured out of him.

"Showing up to work every day when I was younger, I was pissed off. Insecure. I felt like I needed to prove something to you and every one else, and that nobody accepted me as much as I wanted them to. I felt like I had to live an edgier lifestyle and drown myself in this shame, shame that made me feel sorry for myself because I didn't appreciate you half as much as you appreciated me, and for all those years, I have to apologize. To everyone in attendance, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry for ever making you feel that I didn't care about you, because truth be told, I wouldn't be wrestling if it wasn't for the people who wanted to watch me do what I do best, and that was work my a** off each and every night."

A huge wave of approval and acceptance came his way. The whistles and hollers he had received were beyond enough to show that he was forgiven for his wrongdoings. To be fair, it was about time he had shown remorse for all those years and disappearances. Another chant, probably never heard before, began. This brought the emotional AJ goosebumps like he had never had before. His battered legs were shaking from the energy.

WE FORGIVE YOU! *clap clap, clap-clap-clap*
WE FORGIVE YOU! *clap clap, clap-clap-clap*
WE FORGIVE YOU! *clap clap, clap-clap-clap*
WE FORGIVE YOU! *clap clap, clap-clap-clap*

With that, AJ pulled out his keys with one hand, with many tags and coins on them along with his car keys, mailbox keys, house keys, etc. He found his most recent addition to his keychain and raised it to the camera.

"Three years ago, I decided to turn it around. I found a program that saved my life. A program that made me want to go out and compete in this ring, and not to remind you every week of how cocky I was, but to wrestle my a** off with the hope that you would get your money's worth. It was this program that let the two kids in the pressbox get to watch their daddy be happy and be home. It was the motivation you all gave me to get my life back beyond my wildest dreams. Thank you."

It was during that last part of his speech that he really started to bawl his eyes out, trying to be able to breathe and pronounce his words so they could hear. The camera briefly showed a ten year old boy and a six year old girl in a luxury suite, excited to see themselves on the titantron. AJ wiped away the barrage of tears and incoming snot before continuing.

"My last match, I held a world champion's shoulders to the mat. After losing so much blood, a chunk of flesh, my ability to make more kids, I fought through it and should have been declared a winner of that match. I could have quit any time. But the strength you have given me made me able to show what I was worth. I have my family back, I have sobriety. This business, and most of all, you fans, have given me everything I've ever wanted and more."

"That's why I have decided to formally retire from professional wrestling."

The crowd was mostly silent and heartbroken. Many men in attendance booed the idea of one of the older faces finally stepping down, but the fans and the Suplex Shooter had now shared the same heart-wrenching pain. AJ's face was flooded with tears.

"I won't leave you though. Every piece of fan mail I get, I will respond to. Every picture you want me to autograph, I'll write an essay on. Because I have never been more grateful than today. I love every single one of you... and that will never change. Thank you."

AJ dropped the microphone and walked toward each turnbuckle, bowing to the fans. They gave him a standing ovation as he showed the utmost gratitude to the people in attendance. Many of them were crying with him. But he was happy to be given the life he was given. AJ Warner, a former world champion, United States champion, and tag team champion, was about to leave a wrestling ring for what he thought would be the very last time.

But before he could...

[Planned]

There was no way. Of all the music that could possibly interrupt him, it was the familiar tune of his arch nemesis. The tears had stopped because his facial expression was frozen. Was it confusion? Nostalgia? Fear? The stunned gaze of AJ Warner was glued to the titantron, and he could not comprehend the volume of what was happening, or what could happen. No more tears would be produced; he was too pre-occupied trying to process the sound of that familiar song and the millions of possibilities that could follow.

His eyes locked on to King's, but it was unable to read his facial expression. The artist formerly known as the Bad Chyld had no clue how he felt about this, but there was always going to be thick tension between these two. Fans roared at the sight of this, for it had been over eight years since the two had shared a ring together. The microphone in AJ's hand was stuck to his side. He was in complete and total shock. During his road to recovery, Warner had a huge list of resentments and Kelly King 2.0 was very close to the top -- only behind himself and his dealers. He was trembling. The Suplex Shooter had never thought he would get an opportunity to be standing in a ring with his sworn enemy after years of holding a grudge against King. His fists had tightened up, and after soaking in the moment, AJ was still thrown off by what was happening. He finally raised the microphone to his lips, and the short answer he would give was followed by brief boos. Warner was never a man of few words but now that the planets had aligned and he was in a ring with 2.0 once more, it was the only role he knew how to take.

"I came here to say goodbye to these fans...

Now, Kelly King... what the hell are you doing here?"

The sharp tone he had was not in disrespect. Millions of questions had raced through his mind and he was only able to muster one towards his old foe.

If this was a cartoon, his jaw would have dropped by now. What King was offering was a dream re-match. How their styles have changed since their last bout. Warner wasn't athletic enough to do all his high-flying shenanigans anymore. His back had been through so much pain and was a chore to keep straight, whether it was mostly from the pain endured in the ring or the opiate addiction he had kicked. AJ's body had become a victim of abuse over so many years that he had come to believe one more match was an idea too good to be true.

Then the memories hit him like a ton of bricks.

...

Summerslam 2007. He had knocked King unconscious in a match that threatened both of their careers. Kelly had been unable to mutter the words "I Quit" from the amount of torture they both had put their bodies and minds through. AJ, at the peak of his evil ways and in the middle of his addiction, came prepared with a tape recorder so King could repeat himself. Referees didn't see it. The match was officially over. No more would King be a six-foot thorn in AJ's side.

It was the biggest victory of Warner's career, and still was. In his mind, he had still felt he had rightfully won that match. By now, he had let go of that resentment and his fixation on that match. But he remembered celebrating with his only friend at the time, Prodigy (soon to become Johnny Rotten), backstage. They had finally put their arch rival to rest once and for all.

Images of the drive to the bar had become so vivid. His rental Nissan 350z blasted Earth, Wind and Fire. AJ was intoxicated by what the future held. He had just dethroned someone who was truly seen as the King of wrestling. Warner could no longer be seen as the supporting cast; he had beat the man, so in his eyes more than ever, he was the man. He picked up a really expensive hooker on his way to one of Los Angeles's most tucked away bars. The Suplex Shooter had to avoid pissed off fans and anyone who was going to interrupt his date.

Once at the bar, he ordered the darkest priciest drink they had. Scars that were covered by stitches were stinging. He needed to intoxicate himself more. It wasn't as if this felt real anyways. Nobody had picked AJ Warner to win. King was more experienced, more technically sound, more beloved. But he wasn't willing to do anything to win, much like the Bad Chyld was.

AJ gave the bartender fifty bucks and asked him to order Summerslam. He needed to see who would be defending their title against one-half of the iWo. The three announced competitors entered, and the speculation of who it could be mattered to Warner so much. He needed to mentally prepare for who he might be facing at the next PPV. He felt entitled to that next title shot.

Then the music hit.

It was Kelly King 2.0.

And he had won the grandest prize in professional wrestling two hours after being pronounced a quitter.

...

During all of this, fans had been cheering non-stop for AJ's response. The old ideas of him not being physically able to compete again were quickly removed from his mind. Not only did he owe it to these fans for their consistent admiration, not only did he owe it to King for his show of respect, he owed it to himself. Personal redemption smelled too sweet to not taste. Warner looked to King after his flashback and without emotion, gave King the answer he was looking for.

"You're on."

The crowd roared louder than they had at any point in this segment. AJ went to leave the ring because flurry of emotions and mental preparation would follow soon. He still had to process everything that had gone down these past ten minutes. But that memory... that feeling of being so angry about how that night ended... AJ had to do something. Before he left, he slowly turned around and chuckled. He wasn't satisfied.

"Here's the thing, Kelly. If I beat you after all these years, if I get my hand raised... I will have finally proven myself as the greatest of all-time. Because no matter how much you and I have put ourselves through after all these years, you have established yourself as the top of the food chain. More titles. More memorable matches. More to lose. And I respect you for it."

"But how about this... if I beat you King, and I don't retire... I'm afraid that this business is not gonna have enough room for the both of us. I know I couldn't compete again if I can't beat you. But I have a feeling that you couldn't live with yourself, if you go your whole career without ever beating me one-on-one."

"So let's make it interesting. If you win, I'll ride off in the sunset and I will forever admit that you're the better man. I can promise you that if I lose, my respect for you and this ring will be in tact. But if I beat you King... I want you to do the same."

"Career vs. Career. AJ Warner vs. Kelly King 2.0 at Wrestle - ******** - Mania."

This audience could not contain themselves. The stakes had doubled. If King wanted his match, he would have to put all his chips in, just like AJ did. Warner wanted the fight of his life, and deep down, he knew King wanted that too.

There was that fire. This was not a going to be a battle of pure respect anymore like AJ had originally hoped. His ideas would lead the two of them to a war. One man would have a career that was still alive, the other would lose their last match to their life-long enemy. How sweet it was to have that spark over eight years later. Once more, it would be a match that threatened and defined the legacies of both men. Only it would be once and for all. The tension between the two was absent of hatred, but it was thicker than it had ever been. AJ shot daggers into King's eyes with his own before he gave a chuckle to King out of pity. Before coming out here, Warner was ready to hang up his boots for good. But leave it to Kelly King to make him want to fight more than he ever has. The desire to put Kelly down once and for all could finally be put to action.

His music played, and he bumped shoulders with King before leaving the ring and walked up the ramp. That confused look he once had was replaced with determination. There was no other time than now to get back on his rigorous schedule of film study and training. AJ needed to be in top shape to compete against King with both of their careers on the line.

And as far as Warner was concerned. King needed all the help he could get.

Because the HJK always comes out on top.