Zenith 011

The lights dim inside the Pinnacle as the familiar Zenith theme kicks in, bathing the arena in gold and black. The crowd is on their feet, electric with anticipation. Pyro erupts from the stage in synchronized bursts of gold sparks as the camera pans across the packed house.

The camera settles on the announce table where Jason Johnson and Eryk Masters sit, both men looking sharp in their suits, ready to call the action.

The camera cuts to the ring where Samantha Coil stands, microphone in hand, as the crowd buzzes with anticipation. The gold and black lights pulse in rhythm with the energy in the building.

Zenith 011 is underway.

The bell rings and Jamie Johnson stands in the center of the ring, victorious. Holden Nobody is slower to his feet, clearly feeling the effects of the match. Jamie approaches him, extending his hand.

Holden eyes it for a moment, skeptical, before accepting. The two men shake hands as the crowd applauds the show of respect.

Jamie releases the handshake and pats Holden on the shoulder.

Holden nods, clearly exhausted but appreciative. Jamie gives him one final nod of respect before turning and exiting the ring. As he walks up the ramp, "Everything Burns" by Tom Morello (ft. Beartooth) hits the speakers. Jamie doesn't showboat or play to the crowd—he simply walks with purpose, his Grappler's Guild hoodie draped over his shoulder.

The camera cuts back to Holden Nobody in the ring, who watches Jamie disappear through the curtain before rolling out and heading to the back himself.

Eryk hangs his head, barely believing what he has to say.

The clip rolls of the aftermath to Zenith 10's World championship match, beginning as Ricky leaps over the barricade to tackle Arthur to the floor. It then cuts to Sammy Rochester driving Tenet face-first into a chair laid across his father's head with the Dirt Nap, blood flowing freely from fresh wounds around Ricky's right eye, and finally cues up at the disgusting conclusion.

That same chair, streaked with the blood of both Corey Lazarus and Ricky Tenet, set up near the corner. Chance and Hannah hoist Ricky up so that their prophet could grab hold as DEPRAVITY places the World title belt atop the chair. Pleasant soars off from the top rope with the Narcolepsy to Tenet, driving him head-first through the chair and the belt and leaving behind a twisted, eldritch wreckage.

The clip slows to a crawl as Corey screams in primal anguish, restrained by Sammy and forced to watch it all unfold. The last bit shown is of Arthur gleefully kissing a sideplate of the World title, disfiguring both man and idea alike in one swoop.

We cut back to Eryk and Jason in real time, neither of them particularly enthused with having to watch it again.

Upon the VideoWall comes COREY LAZARUS, seated in the living room of his penthouse apartment mere blocks away. His hair is disheveled, his beard growing unkempt, and his usual attire of designer clothing is replaced by a white SHOOT zip-up and black acid wash jeans. In his lap rests the disfigured World Heavyweight title, missing a sideplate and the top of the center plate bent, streaks of rusted and dried blood - Ricky Tenet's blood - still lingering within the etched crevices.

Lazarus sighs, tonguing the inside of his lip. The dark circle under his good eye tells it all, in addition to his ragged appearance.

He clears his throat, searching for the right words.

Laz holds up a hand as he takes a deep, calming breath.

Lazarus forces a chuckle, shaking his head.

His eye goes glassy as his focus goes off-camera, watching the event replay again in his own head.

Corey's face turns beet red as he seethes between gritted, bared teeth.

Eryk stumbles over his words, flabbergasted at Corey's response. Before Eryk can form a coherent sentence, though, Laz cuts him off. His tone is filled with fire and boiling violence, his eyes narrowing steadily as he envisions Arthur Pleasant right in front of him, dreaming of what he'll do the next time their paths cross.

Corey's feed freezes as the audio cuts, the image of his rage-filled eyes and white-knuckled fists taking up the VideoWall. A burst of static comes over it before the screen goes black.

The black VideoWall comes alive with the grainy image of ARTHUR PLEASANT seated on the Pinnacle loading dock, flanked on his left by Chance and Hannah Kelser and on his right by DEPRAVITY and Sammy Rochester.

Everyone surrounding him bursts into laughter over Arthur's mocking and usage of the famous Marlon Brando line from The Godfather.

He shakes his head wiping a 'tear' from his face.

Pleasant brings his fingers up and snaps them as the feed cuts back to Corey, shaking with rage as he jumps up from his chair.

The feed cuts to a split-screen, Laz spouting off his silenced threats on the left and the amused faces of the DeMONSTRance on the right.

Arthur holds up a hand and "pushes" Corey's feed away, the DeMONSTRance now taking up the entirety of the VideoWall.

Arthur smiles and then snaps his fingers again, revealing Corey's living room.

But, there's one problem. It's empty.

The cameras cut back to Eryk and Jason at ringside, both men showing a great bit of shock.

DING DING DING

Spinebuster Island has done it. Joe Quinn "The Anvil" covers Cromwell Yarbury as the referee counts the three. Dan Richards "The Hammer" stands guard, making sure Muratagi Hanzo can't break up the pin.

The Grappler's Guild theme hits, but Quinn and Richards don't celebrate. They exchange a glance, cold and calculated, and nod to one another.

Quinn pulls Yarbury to his feet and whips him into the corner with authority. Richards grabs Hanzo and does the same to the opposite corner. The two members of Spinebuster Island move in perfect synchronization.

On the rebound from the corner, Quinn effortlessly delivers a spinebuster onto Yarbury, the impact echoing through the Pinnacle. Richards does the same to Hanzo on the opposite side. Both men crumple to the mat simultaneously.

But they're not done.

Quinn drags Yarbury to the center of the ring. Richards does the same with Hanzo. They position them side by side, face down.

Quinn stomps down on Yarbury's left knee. Richards stomps on Hanzo's right knee. Then they switch. Richards on Yarbury's right knee, Quinn on Hanzo's left knee. Methodical. Precise. Machine-like.

The crowd boos as Spinebuster Island continues their assault. Quinn lifts Yarbury up and delivers another spinebuster, this time on the hardest part of the ring, near the turnbuckle. Richards follows suit with Hanzo.

Quinn and Richards stand over their fallen opponents, surveying their work. Then, without a word, they roll out of the ring and begin searching under the apron.

They each pull out a steel chair. The boos grow louder.

Quinn slides back into the ring with his chair. Richards does the same. They stand on opposite sides of Cromwell Yarbury, who is trying to crawl toward the ropes.

In unison, they swing. The chairs crash down on Yarbury's back with a sickening CRACK. Yarbury collapses, motionless.

Hanzo tries to get to his feet, but Richards is already there. He drives the edge of the chair into Hanzo's ribs. Quinn follows up with a chair shot to the back. Then another. And another.

The crowd is in an uproar now. Security is rushing down the ramp, but Spinebuster Island doesn't flinch. They drop the chairs, stand over the broken bodies of Cromwell Yarbury and Muratagi Hanzo, and raise their fists in unison. Stone-faced. Emotionless.

Security finally slides into the ring, but Spinebuster Island has already exited on the opposite side. They walk up the ramp in lockstep, never looking back, as EMTs rush past them to check on Yarbury and Hanzo.

The camera lingers on the carnage in the ring. Two members of The Empire laid out, chairs scattered, the crowd still buzzing with shock.

The camera cuts to a wide shot of the Pinnacle as the segment fades.

Lazarus storms into the building from the loading dock, unzipping his white SHOOT sweatshirt to reveal a white tee emblazoned with the SHOOT helmet. He marches forth, eye darting to each and every corner.

The cameras follow the World champion as he passes the Receiving Office of the Pinnacle, slamming his hands against the window to peer inside.

Corey turns from the window and is met with a piercing right hand to the jaw, sending him reeling backwards against the concrete wall.

Corey scrambles to his feet and lunges at Arthur, both men immediately trading a flurry of fists. The L-A-Z rips Arthur's legs out from beneath him and takes him down to the concrete floor, raining shot after shot before the ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ kicks him off, scrambling to his feet.

Lazarus grabs Pleasant by the hair and throws him against the end frame of steel racking, peppering him with body shots before Arthur slips away and boots him low. Pleasant grabs Corey by the back of the head and rams him face-first into the bay door of the loading dock, grinding his face into the links of the steel curtain.

An elbow to the ribs breaks Laz free, a trickle of blood now running from his nose, and he throws a high roundhouse kick into the side of Arthur's head. The ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ staggers back, allowing the Last Damn Icon to grab him, spin, and hurl the Prophet of the DeMONSTRance into a nearby stack of industrial crates. The steel cases topple over from the impact, sending members of the crew scattering.

Corey wipes blood from his face and marches over to Arthur, pausing for a moment to grab the chain of the bay door. He reaches forward and grabs the ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ by the hair, wrapping the chain around his neck.

Arthur struggles to break free but eats a shot his kidneys.

!!WHAM!! !!WHAM!!

As Lazarus speaks, the ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ reaches behind him and sticks his thumb into Corey's good eye. Such a simple thing, sticking one's finger in another man's eye. But it's enough to immediately make Lazarus release Arthur. He falls to his knees as he tries pulling the chain from his throat and then stands. The Hollywood Kid throws a jab into Arthur's jaw and swings for a wild right haymaker, but Pleasant ducks and grabs Corey by the back of the neck and waist of his jeans…

Arthur slumps against the wall, heaving with a wide and sadistic grin across his face.

Lazarus begins stirring from within the office as Pleasant opens the door. Arthur barely manages a step inside before Corey launches the phone at his head, narrowly parried by the ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ. Arthur has no time to make any moves, however, as Lazarus just launches whatever he can at him. The computer monitor. The desk top. A 'Big Hug Mug' coffee mug.

The leather rolling chair from behind the desk is launched at Arthur, pegging him across the chest. Lazarus wastes no time and rushes in, slamming a Swingline stapler against Arthur's face and punching it.

Pleasant shoves Corey away, but the break only lasts for a moment before the World Champion attacks with the stapler again, this time to Arthur's mouth.

!!CLACK!! !!CLACK!! !!CLACK!!

Corey throws the stapler aside and elbows Arthur across the nose, grabbing him by his hair and dragging him out of the Receiving Office and toward the corridor leading to the arena proper.

They trade shots, throwing each other into the walls, but neither man gains any sort of advantage. Members of the stage crew scatter as the two brawl onward, their raw and violent hatred sending shockwaves as it inches closer and closer to the arena proper.

The two men trade blows as they spill behind the curtain to the side of the stage, drawing all eyes toward them. Some of the force behind Corey's fists actually knock out some of the staples he previously stapled into Pleasant's mouth and face. A lone security guard charges in, desperately trying to separate the two.

The guard crumples over the barricade and to the concrete, giving Arthur enough time to crack Lazarus across the face and then slam Corey face-first into the pyrotechnics control panel.

**!!BOOM!!**

A blast of fireworks goes off by the ramp, drawing all of the attention to the brawl happening on the floor. Pleasant grabs Corey by the hair and drags him to the stairs that lead to the lower deck, laughing as he does so.

Arthur starts to scale the steps, turning and grabbing Laz's hair with both hands. One, two, three steps up, the concrete loosening a shard of glass from Corey's back. The World Heavyweight Champion quickly snatches it from the floor and slices the back of Pleasant's hand, forcing the ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ to release his hold.

Corey pulls himself to his feet with the railing as SHOOT Security swarms in, some desperately pulling Lazarus away and others storming up to surround Arthur. They rip the two men from one another, each practically frothing at the mouth, and restore some sense of order to the night.

The ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ breaks away from the four guards holding him back and dives at Lazarus, with a pen in his hand that he withdrew from his waistband!

Pleasant misses Corey's eye, and instead connects right in the gauged ear of one of the security guards. Ripping it out, the security guard cries out as Pleasant starts stabbing at Laz's face, the tip puncturing parts of his cheeks and leaving ink stains in the process.

The poor security guard whose ear was ripped open from the one-in-a-million shot of Arthur's pen going through the gauge hole, clutches the blood pouring out from the ripped skin. As the security guard bowls over, this allows Pleasant to tear and claw at the World Champion as he drops the pen amidst the chaos.

The two battle up the stairs once more, the Hollywood Kid ripping a can of fifteen-dollar domestic beer from a fan's hand and slamming it into Arthur's face. Pleasant stumbles back, blinded, the alcohol stinging from filling each staple hole all over his face. Corey throws a wild right hand that catches one of the intervening guards across the jaw, dropping him…

…over the railing. Were it not for a crowd of security personnel and fans alike gathered below and looking on, the guard's second-story fall would be right to the concrete below instead of the mass of bodies. Corey wastes no time and fires off a chop across the bridge of Arthur's nose, rocking the ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ to a knee.

Pleasant low blows Lazarus with a meat hook and the crowd "Ohhhhh's" with an empathetic response. This drops the Champ where he stands.

Another four guards, and Arthur takes a moment to try to recuperate. Pulling into his waistband again, Arthur pulls out… a pair of scissors?!

Laz is still down, holding his Hollywood Balls. Pleasant takes one of the shears of the scissors and places it in Laz's mouth, looking to "put a smile on his face", but the security guards hold back Pleasant's hand before he can cut into Laz's cheek.

Atop the entrance stage steps a man those all too familiar with SHOOT history instantly recognize, drawing a chain of shocked gasps as the realization crashes over the Pinnacle like a wave.

Real Deal points to the chaos, his face bright red with rage.

Josh takes a step down the ramp and points again at security rounding up Corey and Arthur, hoisting both men off their feet and ripping them, kicking and screaming at one another, away from the balcony.

The Owner and Chief Executive Officer of SHOOT Project shakes his head as he rolls into the ring, watching on while the locomotive of security brings the offenders toward the barricades surrounding the ringside floor.

Corey is still reeling from the low blow, passed over the barricade from one set of guards to another, flanked by officers from the NYPD. His hands are quickly cuffed behind his back as he kicks and spits toward Arthur, who is being hauled just a few steps behind. A smile still plastered on his face.

The ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ, too, is cuffed by the NYPD, laughing as he manages to suck a few remaining staples from his lips and spit them toward the bloodied World Champion. For a moment, it looks like both men are about to break free again, restrained though they may be.

Neither the Last Damn Icon nor the ĠÓḐȘÉṆĎ seem to hear Real Deal's threat as they struggle to break free from the police detaining them, the war showing no signs of ending.

The police officers and SHOOT security haul the two away, Corey dropping to his knees at the top of the ramp and laughing as he locks eyes one more time with Arthur.

"LET THEM FIGHT!! LET THEM FIGHT!!"

With security finally gaining a foothold on the separation between the two, Pleasant and Lazarus both laugh as the crowd roars at the carnage they just witnessed!

The camera finds Jamie Johnson standing in front of the Zenith 011 backdrop, his Grappler's Guild hoodie draped over his shoulder. Spinebuster Island, Joe Quinn and Dan Richards, stand behind him, arms crossed, stone-faced. Standing beside Jamie is a massive figure: Avalanche Anderson, a massive powerhouse with a granite expression.

Jamie steps aside, gesturing to Avalanche Anderson.

Avalanche cracks his knuckles, eyes locked on the camera.

Jamie takes a step forward.

He pats Avalanche on the shoulder.

Avalanche Anderson nods once and walks off-camera, leaving Jamie with Spinebuster Island.

Jamie smirks as "Everything Burns" hits and the three men walk off, leaving the camera focused on the empty interview area.

Backstage, and the area is as always a buzz of activity. Carts being pushed, cables being ran, workers hustling. Some in gear, some not, some whose gear is no different than street clothes. In the distance, Pigpen Matsumoto is making a still-bandaged and neck braced Chadwick Kyle do situps, whacking him in the midsection with a kendo stick after each, a sight that's apparently so common that no one is reacting to it. Standing tall in her street clothes is Madison Seton, idly having a conversation with a couple of members of the production crew when from the distance pipes the particular combo of vocal fry and minnie mouse of a certain individual.

"Yo, Redwood!"

There's precisely one person who would ever call Madison that. In many ways her opposite number. Short, stout, head shaved, decidedly and proudly brown. Izzy Sia, The Kamatayan, current Pantheon Champion, and fellow member of the Empyrean Forge has found her stablemate and on-again/off-again rival, and strides over to her with all the confidence and swagger she's adopted since her success, clad in a personalized track suit. It brought a smile to Madison's face hearing the unmistakable pitch of Izzy's voice. She turns as Izzy reaches her.

Izzy was known for being blunt, but something about how that last sentence came out seemed different. Madison turns her head in curiosity.

Cocking her head to the side, Izzy draws Madison from the production group, gathering some semblance of privacy in the hallway. She crosses her considerable arms, looking at, well, up at her stablemate.

She grins wickedly.

This causes Izzy's shoulders to sag in some form of relief, and she returns the smile.

Madison seems poised to respond, but The Kamatayan holds her hand up, stalling it.

A breath.

Pause.

It takes a beat, but Madison gets the idea. Another smile.

Her grin becomes warmer. She was enjoying these encounters with the younger upstart. Izzy lays her signature look on, somewhere between a smirk and a sneer. Not ill-intent, just understanding one's existence a little better and feeling confidence within it. She claps Madison on the shoulder, hard enough for the taller woman to take note.

She begins to walk backward, her face now adopting a cocky grin. This is someone operating with a little shit talking intent in their swagger, and she holds out her arms.

Turning on her heels, Izzy pops down the hallway with a spring in her step, leaving Madison to chuckle and shake her head. Crossing her arms, she gazes down the hallway, the smile on her face not leaving as she considers the proposal of another fight with the fearsome submission artist.

She appears to be looking forward to it.

The camera catches Jamie Johnson leaning against a wall, arms crossed, watching the monitor after Madison Seton and Izzy Sia's chat. He shakes his head with a knowing smirk.

Jamie pushes off the wall and steps toward the camera.

He chuckles.

Jamie takes a step closer.

He leans in.

Jamie walks off-camera leaving the shot lingering on the empty hallway.

The camera follows Mike de los Huesos as he walks down the hallway, still catching his breath from his match with Avalanche Anderson. His gear is soaked with sweat, a towel draped over his shoulders. He reaches the door marked with The Empire's logo and pushes it open.

Inside, sitting calmly on one of the benches with his Grappler's Guild hoodie on, is Jamie Johnson.

Mike stops in the doorway, his expression shifting from exhaustion to confusion to wariness. He glances back down the hallway, then back at Jamie. Then, almost exaggeratedly, he checks behind the door.

Mike settles himself down on a chair opposite of Jamie, kicking his feet out and toweling his face. He seems very much not in a hurry, but his eyes tell us that he's still wary of what this might end up as.

Jamie smirks. You know, Baby Deals style.

He leans back, showing no imminent threat, but the words linger and are heavy. Mike, however, chuckles, revealing a mouthful of gold.

Making that hand motion that basically means "blah blah blah", Jamie listens, a scowl on his face.

He fakes a chuckle.

He shakes his head.

He leans forward, the lack of an imminent threat is gone.

He stands. His stance is still jovial, but Jamie knows that he can spring to action fast as anyone.

He motions towards the door.

Jamie's already out of his chair before the word "heard" is finished, and you hear him say "fuck Fresca" on the way up. He throws his body at Mike with a spear through the lockerroom's doorway and they spill out into the hall! Mike hits the opposite wall and the two have a brief separation before they start just throwing hands with each other!

Security seemingly is locked into the announcers end of the broadcast, because they start streaming towards the brawling duo who have no interest in stopping or calming down. Rights and lefts come from Jamie to Mike and then Mike to Jamie! Finally, Jamie gets pulled away by two security guards, Mike gets held off by three, but they're still struggling to get to each other!

The screen splits as the remaining members of the Empire and the Grappler's Guild are seen coming down their respective halls towards the fight!

Black.