The show returns from a break to a darkened arena. A spotlight comes on, revealing the Dragon, the original Dragon, sitting on a folding chair in the center of the ring with a mic in hand. In a parallel to the God of Time at Judgment Day, the chair is facing forward instead of backward, an intentional choice. Finally he raises the mic to speak.

“You know, I’ve been around a lot of years. I made this decision to enter into this business as a young man. And while I also dallied in another field, this was the field that was home. I’ve done just about everything a man could dream of in this business. World championships, done that many times over. Main event Wrestlemania, did that. Steal the show at Wrestlemania, did that. I’ve wrestled in multiple federations all around the world. I’ve faced a wide variety of opponents. Showstoppers, Icons, Legends, new comers, Next Big things, others using a variation of my own moniker, and gods. Except for one particular god, and that’s who I have to address here tonight.”

Jarel takes a moment to look around the arena.

“At Judgment Day, many of you were given a history lesson. You see, many may not realize or pay attention to the fact that the god in question, Chrono Clepsydra, and I did in fact start out together. There was no lie in that at all. Going back so far into our roots brings a sense of nostalgia. But let’s address a few things. First, I will acknowledge that he has a very valid point in that sometimes my pity for certain individuals did more harm than good. Extending a hand to someone who doesn’t even qualify as a man at this point was perhaps my biggest error in judgment ever. On that, you and I have an agreement. Time away from the frenzy of wrestling led to me being out of the loop, and an insidious little cancer took advantage of that. Like you, I will not utter that name because the last time it was uttered or consider he appeared again to spout drivel. But you asked me a question that must have a response. What was my goal?”

The Dragon sits back a bit in the chair, letting his words sink in as the fans listen.

“I didn’t have a goal to take you down. That implies a level of forethought and a grudge that frankly, I simply do not have with you. By that time, you and I were veterans. I can’t speak for you but I had already retired the first time at that point. I had dealt with the infamous Screwjob and coming back, I was simply doing what I felt was right. Another thing that dragons symbolize is honor and wisdom. I was attempting to right a perceived wrong. I attempted to lend a hand to someone from the next generation. At that point, you and I had not interacted in years, so how was I to know what might have changed. But I would also remind you, that upon said return, I was there in that very same ring when you were shot. I can understand why that might be a blur. There was a lot happening. Another parallel of sorts with us. Same place, same time. But circumstances kept us from interacting even during the course of the match prior to the gunshot. I did in fact disappear after that, but you were busy with said lunatic, weren’t you? And to be fair, there was work done on my part to correct my error. After all, as you said, that one bit the proverbial hand that feeds. It’s annoying when you’re right.”

Jarel smirks to himself after the admission, but the Dragon had to be honest.

“You brought up a few more things. Your run in my company, XCW for those who have forgotten. My run in yours. Another Hall of Fame induction, a surprise and one I can show gratitude for. A few other times, you and I have been around each other, spoken to each other. Attempted an encounter. Blame the lunatic for one of those not happening. But a point that I might have forgotten or simply not realized. You did have a tendency to conquer those who had slain or retired me. You asked a question and I have to answer it honestly about why it seemed that when you came in, I would go out.”

Jarel twirls the mic around for a moment, as he gathers his thoughts to voice his answer.

“I am a man who didn’t lose but so often. You and I share this trait. We are dominating and possibly overbearing individuals. I say that not as a slight but as an observation of fact, or perhaps the opinion of some of our colleagues. Sometimes those losses called my career into question. One doesn’t get the nickname Godfather of Hardcore without sustaining injuries. And as we crept up in age, there was always the knowledge that Father Time catches up to us all. Truthfully and transparently, I questioned how much longer I could go. The most obvious example was my loss to Nuke Fusion. Monikers and all aside, the man that I am had to acknowledge that I’d lost a step. Though I was clearly younger then, I felt as old as I am now, perhaps older. So, I went home and a discussion was had. And that discussion is important before I ultimately give my answer here tonight.”

The Dragon locks his eyes, his natural colored eyes this time, on the camera.

“I discussed with the family the state of my own career and theirs. Zarel, Janelle, and I made an agreement with Drako, which would later pass down to our children. After I’d healed, after I’d come back and gotten back on track, it would not solely be on me to decide when my career ended. My twin and my sister were the same. We agreed that if it came to a point that we could admit to ourselves that it was time to walk away, one of our own would have to put us down. My little brother and my son did what I asked almost four years ago. Drako set up the match, Marcus beat me. It was a fitting end for the son to supplant the father. I was ok with that. But to say that I was completely and utterly satisfied would be a lie. Because there was that one match that I didn’t get to have. That question that every so often slipped into my mind. There was the proverbial what if and now it can’t be ignored. We have to know, don’t we? Jarel Damone versus Chrono Clepsydra. The Dragon versus the God of Time. Who would win?’

Jarel stands up, all traces of his earlier smirk or lighter expression gone.

“So, last week, I cleared it with Marcus and Drako, not because I need to but because I try my damnedest to be a man of my word. And I’ll tell you and everyone here what’s going to happen. I’m going to leave here tonight and fly home. I’m going to go down into the training gym at the Den. The same gym that I trained Salem in to get him back ready for Wrestlemania. The same gym where I trained Drako to make sure he was in top form for the main event of that same Wrestlemania. The gym I trained my son and nephews in. I’m going down there to put in the work. I’m going to make sure that I’m not questioning how good I Feel. I want to be in top shape so that when I come back out here to finally answer this question I can honestly say that I left every single thing I had in this ring and win, lose, or draw, the better man stood tall at the end of the night!”

The volume of Jarel’s voice grows as the Dragon is finally a bit more animated.

“One last time, I’m going to lace up a pair of wrestling boots. Throw on my gear, tape my hands up and put my gloves on. One last time, I’m going to reach deep down and unleash everything that made me the Dragon! Because if we’re going to answer this burning decades old question, ain’t neither one of us coming out here with less than our best! So, all I need is a date. You made the challenge, you set the date. I’ll be there and we’ll settle this. No gimmicks, no families, nothing but me, you, and a referee inside a wrestling ring in front of a crowd. I’ll be seeing you around.”

Jarel tosses the mic and as the crowd cheers, the spotlight cuts out again to end this segment