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Classic Wrestling

Mikey Unlikey's Fed of All Feds

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Dysecdysis of the Serpentritional Ejecta-Plume

Pulse…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pulse…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pulse…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pulse.Pulse.Pulse.Pulse.Pulse.

The darkness’ pulse quickens, the eternal shroud of unlight cavernous and appalling, but the pulse continues to throb and quicken. Matter accretion beings to happen, coming slowly at first, the pull of seemingly distant objects.

Focused on a singularity.

Matter continues to spiral inwards, reaching a critical mass…

 

 

An explosion of blinding white light.

 

 

 

Painful and nonexultant, the result of a quasar-Esque pull of light into an explosion.

In the reality we inhabit, Lord Colossus stands alight in the evening. The sky is clear, and the stars radiate in their small light around him. Fresh Snowfall is stuck to the branches of pine trees, the Moon is dead.

Cloaked and masked, even in the witching light of the dead moon, those blue eyes pierce time and space, The phantasmal quasar of pain upon which the universe groans almost perceptive around and about him.

As he breathed the air plumed with water vapor turned to mist. It coiled as it reached towards the stars, a serpent slowly constricting around a point of light.

“And so it shall be, that at Classic Wrestling 14, Alex Bruder adjoins the void again. For it was before a pact was formed to dominate and devour Vito Valentino and Freddy Kilgore. “

He pauses significantly, standing unmoving as a steady plume of steam issues from the mouth hole of his mask.

“The pact is renewed at Classic Wrestling 14. At the well of entropy, Vito Valentino and Freddy Kilgore will drink, long and deep, the fleeting strength of moments that varnish their mantles will crumble in their hands. Eternity’s endless grind putting them to the millstone.”

His voice still resonates a dead star, still spinning in orbit. Intense, but cold body radiation.

“Even a wild heart succumbs to the void.

Raging against the gravitational pull.

Straining in primality against the very nature of the universe.

In its most extreme, succumbing to the event horizon where even the fire burning within is reduced not even to ashes, but to something quantum. Knowing that all of its resistance, all of its vainglorious struggle was for naught, the illusory gains, all brought it closer to the end.”

More steam spirals upwards serpentine to the heavens. Monolithic, Lord Colossus stands, immutable. The heavens continue their slow rotation around the planet. Around this central point of gravity.

“At the cistern of darkness, drips the cup in Vito Valentino’s hand. Filled to the brim with necessity and vacuous pride. Valentino demands a challenger.”

Unmoved and Monotone, the first lines of hoarfrost begin to creep like vines of some other order.

“He has dipped his cup again and again since he claimed the Real World’s Title. He has stood tall and demanded a challenger to step up to him. The Lord of the Void does not approach. Like the cistern itself, he draws those to him, whether by their will or no.”
Hoarfrost continues to spider across the edges of the screen, the constant plume of ejecta steam rising from The Lord Colossus.

“Ever he comes to drink, ever he is drawn closer by the gravity. Ever and again he asks who shall stand against him. Yet unknown to Vito Valentino, he drew ever closer to my orbit. He spiraled in towards me. I did not have to step up to challenge him, like time itself we approach the inevitable, two stellar bodies intertwined in the dance of the cosmos.

Since the dispatching of the abomination known as King Kong Frank. This has become the only path, I have not come to Vito Valentino.

He has been drawn to me.

To offer supplication before the void.

To be denied atonement against entropy.

To be judged against the singularity and to be found wanting.”

Frost shoots spider roots across the whole of the screen. The Lord Colossus’ voice began to rise above the red-shifted groan of the great cosmic voids, starquake frequencies beginning to ripple from him in perfect solitonic waves.

“At Classic Wrestling 14, the new dawn fails to rise above the horizon. The great void begins its spread. Vito Valentino and Freddy Kilgore rage as only those bathed in the light can. Fleeting and Daring. Driven and Courageous.

Patiently, I will consume their light. Reducing them to husks with Bruder

Throwing his hands wide, revealing a bare chest and black wrestling tights along with wristbands of spikes and nails. Lord Colossus reverberated in the night and the darkness against the dawn….

”AD MAJOREM VACUUS GLORIAM!”

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