Tom sat on his bed in the bunks of the Faces of Death Training Temple. Eugene had gone to be part of the complex-wide LAN deathmatching that they did every thursday. Tom had been feeling out of sorts, so he had gotten out by saying he felt like getting some extra sleep. So... He was sitting on his bed. Draped in his Snuggie, wearing pajama pants, in a hoodie...

In his defense, it was cold out. The barracks-style building was too big and too open to easily heat, so it was cold in there. Not so cold as to make Tom freeze, but cold enough. He was watching video of Claira St. Sure absently on his tablet, but he was distracted. Distracted plotting and planning and thinking and considering.

Tom was inwardly calm. He had been doing a good job learning from Serbo, meditating regularly and going through the motions of Serbo's tai chi routines... But he needed more. He needed something else to beat the Untouchables, and he couldn't decide what.

With Justin Voss's help, they might be able to beat the Untouchables through numbers. Hell, if he enlisted some other guys who hate Jeff, maybe they could really do some damage. If he got Cancer Jiles in... If he got someone like Bronson Box?

He could never contain the tornado that was a Bronson Box. And Box would laugh at the thought of working with Tom. So that was a bad plan. Jiles would be much the same way.

Tom could interfere for Eugene, try to really help him out. Do the heel thing, take out the ref, beat Jeff down with a pipe or bat or something... With Voss and Light and Turner running interference, they could keep Heidi, Kai and Long from the ring. Although Christian wouldn;'t want to do it, Sam would want to be helpful but wouldn't be fully invested, and Voss... He'd probably view it as a betrayal of Tom's morals. Which it would be.

So that was a bad plan.

You already know what you have to do.

Tom swallowed heavily, he did know what he had to do. His best option was to t-

Take up the Macho Coin once more.

Tom blinked, looking up. Then right. Then left. Then behind. There was a distinctive raspy voice talking to him, god damn it. He wasn't the one doing the voice. He wasn't watching a video from the 80s, either. He had just... heard it.

The kid ducked his head, pressing both his hands to his head. He swallowed, not too terribly thrilled with his mental state. Maybe one of those kicks knocked something loose...

Your answer lays in your footlocker. Take up the Coin, and you will have the power you need to defeat the Untouchables!

Tom had already debated this a thousand thousand times. He'd have the power to beat them, but he'd be overloading his body again. The last time he had used the Coin, he had been the one man from DEFIANCE to run through the entire WWA's Independence Day Rumble. He had won. He had been the only shiny hope against James Watkins, the slayer of the Trendkiller.

But it had come at the cost of his health. He had been breaking down. He had been all exhausted all the time, his fingers had dried out and the flesh had split, cracking in places. He had blown veins in his eyes, his face, his hands. He had wept tears of blood at one point. He had constant nausea, and hadn't been able to keep anything down. He couldn't sleep, he had only felt alive when he had been fighting...

It was too much for any man to take. He worried what would have happened if he had used the coin for longer.

You are the only man of your generation worthy of taking up the mantle.

He wanted to do this by himself, without using something else to give him extra power. He wanted to simply be the best, all by his lonesome.

But what separated using the power of something like this from other ...performance enhancers?

What made this any better than cheating?

My power will boost you spiritually, mentally, physically... UNIVERSALLY!

And even if he did take up the Coin again, would that be enough?

I am not only the Madness that propelled a Savage... I am the Destrucity that drove a Warrior. The Mania that propelled a Hulk. The heroism that propelled a Spartan King. The bravery that spurred countless men into acts of glorious heroism.

I'm not a drug. I am the greatest gift any warrior could receive.

Tom clenched his eyes shut. No no no no nononononononononononono

He had to do this his way.

If you can defeat Claira St. Sure on your own, you can do this without me.

But if you cannot...

Tom had to. He had to prove to himself, more than anyone else, that he was capable of competing at this level.

He just had to beat Claira St. Sure.
 

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