Tom Sawyer sat on the edge of the Training Temple’s pool. In a pair of swimming trunks, and a “AGGRO CRAG 3~!” tee-shirt, Tom sat, watching the cameraman. Who... happened to be floating in the water. 

 

“There’s almost too much to talk about here. There’s the fractured nature of my own team, where I can barely trust myself to stay focused, much less Christian Light, Dan Ryan, and Cancer Jiles.” Note the specific name overlooked. “There’s the fact that I’m fighting Bronson Box, of all people. And not only is that dude totally nuts, but he wants to carve me a new breathing-hole in the middle of my throat.”

 

“There’s the fact that I finally get an opportunity to cash Ed White’s friggin’ check. Dude’s needed some comeuppance for a real, real long time. The fact that I get to step into the ring with a true great like Kai Scott...” Sure, Tom had fought Kai Scott once before, in that ill-fated three-on-one. But hey, he wasn’t going to get many opportunities to face a Kai Scott-level name, when the odds are even.

 

“The fact that I get a chance to finally punch Chance Von Crank in the mouth... And that’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while. And the fact that I get another chance to help Eugene beat Seth Stratton like an old rug. And above all else...” Tom reached down, taking the tee-shirt in his fingertips, pinching at it and stretching out the logo. Aggro Crag 3 loomed menacingly in spirit.

 

“Heidi.” That one word was said with enough flatness to establish the... overall feeling.

 

“So. I’ve got a lot on my plate, to be sure. Cancer Jiles, the Cottonmouth King, could snap and decide to start Mongo Chopping every single person in the ring. Dan Ryan could decide to go insane and start Egobusting everyone. And Christian Light?” ...Tom’s expression darkened a bit, and he glanced away, teeth gritting. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

 

“But there’s one thing I’ve got on my side. I’ve been working for the past six months to get into better shape than I was. And I’ve been working for the past two to prepare for one thing, and one thing only.” Tom put both hands on his knees, leaning forward, eyes flashing as he looked square into the camera.

 

“Being ready to fight one of the toughest, most badass people in DEFIANCE in the most grueling test of physical capability in professional wrestling today. Working my ass off to prepare for the Test of Might. And if I’m ready for that...” Tom grinned, popping to his feet as he did. Both fists clenched, his soaking-wet feet still dripping with poolwater.

 

“Well. Needless to say. Ten man tag.” Tom clenched both of his hands, looking down for a moment.

 

“Even with all the things weighing on my mind, even with everything else on the plates of all of my partners...” Tom growled. He reached up, grabbing his hair out from the ponytail he had it tied in, and shook his hair out. “This is a golden opportunity.”

 

“The universe... It’s shrieking at me. It wants me to do something here. It wants me to do something for ALL of my opponents.” He turned, storming to the right. The man in the pool with the camera followed Tom’s movement, sloshing a bit through the water.

 

“I’ve been given my unique set of gifts for a reason. I’ve been given the strength to fight. The speed to get out of the way. And the need to be in this business, IN THAT SQUARED CIRCLE!” With wild eyes, he turned to the camera, finger jabbing out.

 

“I’ve proven once to you, Bronson Box, just what I bring to the table. I’ve got the burning wings of an angel, Mister Jesu Christo! You want to bring up your Psalms, and your John 3:16s?” Admittedly, not in a while... “And more importantly, you want to bring up your Grand Plan of Revelation?! How you’re going to bring oceans of blood, buckets of gristle, and do it with your burning red Queen at your side?”

 

Tom stomped to the edge of the pool, eyes bulging. “I’m gonna show you the Sword of Michael, Bronson. You can trumpet how you’re gonna kill Dan Ryan in a worldshaking battle of eternal warriors all you want. How his blood will course down your hands, how his screams will rend the night for you... But you had better be ready for ME. When I finally get a chance to throw down with you? Solo? I might not be as strong as you. I might not be as mighty. But I’ve got the spirit to go, and go, and go. You will NEVER be able to keep me down, and I’ve got everything I need to bring you a war the likes of which you’ve NEVER seen.”

 

Tom turned his head and spat. Enough of the Wargod. “Chance Von Crank. You sad, strange little bully. You go around, trying to steal the light and the happiness from everyone’s eyes. You try to ruin Charlene, because it brings you the simple creature pleasure of making her miserable. You take your very own fans, people who give you their hard-earned money, people who WANT to cheer your name, and you make fun of them. You belittle them. You call them all sorts of horrible rotten things and you try to make them sad and mad and feel bad, for the simple plain reason....”

 

Tom stepped forward, to the edge of the pool. “Because you’re broken inside. You’re horribly broken and damaged as a person, Chancey. You’ve somewhere lost that part of yourself capable of wanting to do good, capable of wanting to help people and make merry and go out into that ring, put on a show that those people will want to pay for...” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Discarded it, maybe. Pawned it, for a pack of smokes or the chance to work in DEFIANCE.”

 

A curl of the lip, as Tom looked close at the camera.

 

“You’re a ruined soul, Chance Von Crank. You’re everything wrong with humanity, rolled up into one little ball that likes to call people faggots and then somehow forcibly convert lesbians into straight with the power of your magic wand.” Tom rolled his eyes. Yeah, because that was a thing that happened. DEFIANCE talent or no, pro wrestlers didn’t go around making young gay women suddenly turn straight unless this was some sort of weird fantasy world where authors held sway.

 

Dot dot dot.

 

“Well. Chance. You face people capable of taking everything that you’ve been saying, everything that you’ve been doing, and shoving it right down your throat, man. I don’t care what you have to say about my act, or about my clothes, or about anything. In fact, don’t even TRY to say a thing, cuz I can smell the ROT IN YOUR SOUL ON YOUR BREATH!” He gritted his teeth, slamming one hand into his other hand’s palm. “And I’m not takin’ it anymore. Thunder on the horizon, man. The spaceship is crashing, and you’re the last one left on board! Your words of filth, your nasty, dirt-slung feelings aren’t gonna be able to help when you get your hair creased with a Permanent Wave...” 

 

Tom gave a little smirk. “I don’t have a whole lot to say about Seth Stratton. Beat ya once, your loaded elbow or no. You took all the shortcuts you had, tried to cheat, used low blows... Every sneaky, conniving trick in the book. Because you feel like you’re not good enough to outfight a man powered by Righteousness, FUELLED BY GLORY AND BRAVERY, NOT WANTING TO LET THE VILLAINS AND THE DYING EMBERS OF THE FIRE OF HATE WIN OUT!” Tom’s eyes bulged and he grinned powerfully, fists shaking. “You might be right, Seth! You might be right! When you’re up against the top men that DEFIANCE HAS GOT, let’s just see if you’re able to live up to the challenge!”

 

He stepped up to the edge of the pool, toes curling over it a bit. “I don’t think I even need to talk about Kai Scott. Christian Light’s got you on lockdown. Sure, it’ll be a thrill to step into the ring with you and not be outnumbered, three on one. Sure, it’ll be nice to actually get a legitimate chance to tangle with one of the men who I have seen every moment of his career... But...”

 

Tom swung his hands back and forth before his chest. “I think you’re going to be busy, Kai. I’d like to wrestle you one on one. Y’know. Man to man. Like all the best big matches have been. But that’s not in the cards tonight. And when all the dust settles out... I do not envy you your task.”

 

Tom finally put a hand on the edge of the pool, and hopped into the water. “And here’s the final word. Edward White, I envy you one thing. You’ve got the money everybody dreams of. A kid growing up in... humble circumstances, like I did? Man, it would have been nice to have even a fraction of your cash.”

 

He waded forward into the water, swatting at the surface a bit. Remembering what ‘sup, Tom grabbed the waistband of his shirt, and yanked it up over his head, tossing it out of the pool. “And I know, you’ve worked for your money. You’ve worked for your success. You’ve worked for everything that you’ve got and everything you’ve wanted and everything you’re going to do...”

 

Tom walked up to the camera. “And so have I, Ed. I’m not worth your cash. I’m not up there on the NASDAQ. But I have indeed busted my ass to get where I am in pro wrestling. I’m not some scared kid wandering into a match he has no place being in. Whether you can buy the match or not? We’ll see. But whether you can buy me?”

 

A slow, solemn shake of the head. “Absolutely not. Not gonna happen. You can buy a lot of things, but you’re not gonna buy off Harper’s Revenge. You’re not gonna buy off an Ode to Madness. And you’re not gonna buy off the Billy Dee Williams. So, finally... Five on five. Best versus the criminally evil and monstrous and devilish.”

 

He finally let all the tension, all the stress begin to pour off of him. “And the conflict... Will be explosive.” 

 

Tom Sawyer turned, and dove into the water. The swimming pool was home to Tom and his exercise for the next hour. Ten-man or no, there was still an Aggro Crag to prepare for. And he had to prepare for war.