THOUSAND YEAR BLOOD WAR. [01: END OF DAYS.]

[Mav.]

The longer spent thinking on the heartbreaking news, the more that he began to forget things. It wasn’t hard for him to become so forgetful of himself with everything plaguing his mind, but to hear the words coming from the doctor’s mouth about his time - his career inside of the ring - coming to a close soon enough was what left him not feeling… like himself anymore. No matter what could’ve been done to brighten up the situation, it was a hard time to process the matter at hand, it was hard to know that his time was coming to a close if he didn’t seem to look after himself any more. Any other day, this would’ve been a threat.

‘If you don’t begin to seek out a better life, you’ll end up barely able to move any part of your body by the age of thirty’, and he never would begin to listen to those vague threats. There didn’t seem to be a moment where it’ll all fall apart for him, there didn’t seem to be a moment where he’d have to slow down at all, even after suffering with his neck injury - he found himself back into the groove in many places, of course slowly progressing forward and barely finding himself in a more physical battle than needed to be. Though, he’s haunted by what placed him into this very position, he’s haunted by what got him this far, he’s haunted by what might’ve killed off years of his long standing career within seconds.

All because he wasn’t too careful for his own safety.

For his own life.

There’s been moments where he can be surrounded by friends, family, and many more but this was something more. This was something that made him feel so disassociated from everyone, everything, around himself. Having Lauren there to comfort him once he arrived home wasn’t what made him feel better about himself, having his closest friends being one phone call away from helping him out of the slump he seems to have fallen deep into wasn’t going to save him, having family nearby just ready for a moment where he’d crash from a high like beforehand couldn’t be the reason to keep spirits high. Anything at all could’ve put a smile on his face, at any given moment, but this was too much to hold. This was life and death being spoken about. This was everything at the verge of being lost. Jason has spent six whole years building up the reputation that he carries with him wherever he goes, he carries it around the world and back – and nothing of value is ever lost from that reputation no matter what – but this could burn it all up to ashes and never be recovered.

For once, he’s stumped. He’s lost. He’s not sure of himself. Jason has always found himself following down a path that leads to glory, to the littlest of moments that life can throw at him, to anything that can bring joy to his world. That world has just crumbled before him and now is simply filled with doom and gloom. A dark cloud hangs over his head, raining down onto his soul and leaving him to become a mess around society as a whole. Time had eluded him, however, that sense of dread rushing over him had taken over long ago and the overthinking had left him seated at his front door with tears rolling down his face. There were many that walked by and looked toward him, a little bit worried for the sight before their eyes, seeing a young man in tears and rocking back and forth at the foot of his own front door. The very least they could’ve done was check up on him and see if he needed some help, but there wasn’t a single sign of help being given to him.

There hasn’t been a chance of a random stranger securing a good deed and helping out someone who needed the help. The pressure was getting to him, the night was beginning to fall, minutes had become hours within an instant and the darkness was swallowing the remains of his brightened world up as a whole.

A state of panic pursued within his own head, it felt like daggers were pointed toward him with every set of eyes that turned their way toward him, soon escaping from their glares to his car and pulling away from the drive as quickly as he could, nearly hitting a man riding along down the street on his bike. The panic couldn’t be any more firmly gripped into his mind, speeding down the street and just driving. No directions, no plan in mind but to drive, just drive as fast as he could down the emptied streets of Santa Monica until he found himself on some highway that led him out of the city. He could keep on driving as fast as he could, for as long as he could, and not begin to think of the consequences.

For within his own head — there wasn’t any.

—

“To understand everything, we must move forward with our lives.”

I don’t say those words because I feel the need to cope with each branding loss to my name, it’s because it’s the only set of words that help me live with the life I have been given. It helps me with everything that’s wrong with me, my life, my career, everything as a whole. If you’ve been aware of the past nine months of my time here in professional wrestling, you’d understand that everything has had it’s highs and it’s had it’s lows. I’ve spoken it time and time again but I won’t be repeating myself again and again like I always do. Whilst I should be standing here before you all with a slight bit of a smile on my face, knowing damn well that the End of Days tournament is slowly beginning and I’m feeling confident on my part here, there’s doubt in my mind that’s really offsetting the mood and I don’t stand here right now with the confidence of a man looking forward to the future.

It’s been a very long time since I’ve walked into something without any form of confidence just radiating off of my own self and a good part of that is because of how life has changed for me. I had gotten word recently about something quite major and severe. I’m on reserved time. The clock is slowly ticking away at what might be my final battle, the last real crusade, the imminent end of my career. I’ve fought valiantly to make sure that wouldn’t happen but everything has been falling apart for me and I know when my time is to come. I won’t say when, for dramatic effect - of course, but in due time? We’ll all know together. However, if there’s one thing that I want to do? It’s to go out with a bang, with the biggest prize of them all, and I don’t mean going out like Michael Storm – no, we’re not dying anytime soon.

See, I want to make keep of my promise at the very beginning of the year.

Whilst it has been a difficult task to try and secure the Openweight Championship, I did secure one of those three at the very beginning of the year and I came so close to securing a second of the three. I was beaten out by a blind state of anger that I never saw myself ever getting so involved in. It has been a very hard fought manner to try and get closer to reaching my goals. I’ve been fighting as hard as I could for the past nine months. I’ve only got three months left to prove that I can do it. There’s no way of me getting what I want unless I prove myself again. That’s why I am here, in the End of Days tournament, to prove what I am capable of doing to not just everyone, to the management within TAPOUT, but to myself. I’ve got to do whatever it takes to find myself at the peak of the mountain again, and to do whatever it takes to make myself feel like I’m worth a shit anymore.

Jesse knows how much it’ll take for me to give up and he knows what it’ll take for me to stop fighting. That bastard did everything to make sure he could put me down for good and he still couldn’t find a way to make it set in stone that I’m done. I’m still kicking, for now. You had every chance possible to prove a point that I was in the wrong during the lead up to Night of Champions and you couldn’t see it through. You failed at the final hurdle because you’re a choke artist, there’s nothing to deny those accusations. You’d find it ironic that I – the biggest of them all – is the one who calls you the choke artist but look around you. Look at what you could’ve been but you can’t actually pull the damn trigger on it all. I’m not saying it for shock value or anything like that, I fucking mean it because there’s not a single ounce of hardcore in you but you bless yourself with monikers, personalities, and whatever to make it sound like you are. I’ve hated it then, I’ll forever hate it now.

The same can be said for the man who happens to be your boss: Kira Izumi. The poor bastard had a hard time for years and when given chance after chance, platform after platform, he never found a way to stop being so lazy with himself and actually do something good with his sad, pathetic life. I’m sure that at some point, someone must’ve knocked some sense into him but I’ll never forgive Kira for trying to help him elevate years ago. I had given him the spotlight, I had given him the moment, I had given Kira everything that I could and I bet you that bastard doesn’t remember a fucking thing about it but he’ll love to tell everyone that I’ll choke when it matters the most. If there’s anyone in this match that doesn’t get to speak on choking, it’s Kira Izumi. There’s no place for him in a fucking tournament like this and even if he survives past this match? It wouldn’t take long until he’s chewed up and spat out like the waste he is.

Though, Kira also has to stop the person he sent to help J-ROK become elevated again since he’s not got Dylan to leech off of whenever he fucking can. Temerario isn’t something that I know all too well, and maybe that’s a problem for me, heading into the unknown with so much at stake if I can’t secure one of the two necessary pinfalls, but you have a sense of feeling when it concerns someone like Temerario. He might be highly spoken for, he might have the highest of reputations, but where will all of that matter with so much pressure being applied? This isn’t the match for them, anyone could know that, and I’m sure Kira knew that too. He’ll find an easy way to expose that, but I’ll be there to take it from him. One step at a time, my friends. Let’s not start to overthink as we begin looking ahead to the gold.

I have the pleasure of heading into this tournament with one goal in mind: rebuild the reputation. That has put me in the mindset to try and silence what has been trying to put me down for the past few weeks and months. I’m not going to let any of that stop me from doing what I love the most and I won’t let it stop me from achieving what I should’ve done a long time ago. I’ve made it to the main event of each and every single main pay-per-view on the network and the one thing that eludes me to this day is reaching past the first round of this fucking tournament. I entered this tournament in 2018, injured and barely able to fight. I will enter this tournament in 2023 – five years later – and whilst still injured, barely able to fight back. Neck strong as a motherfucker.

There will be no denying me at all, I have been through hell and back enough to not just sit here and pretend like I can’t make it to the finals, I can’t make it to the semi-finals, I can’t make it to the quarter-finals, or I can’t make it out of the first fucking round. I’ve had enough of everyone denying me of what I should be. Kira, Jesse, and Temerario – whilst there’s one spot to be beside me as whoever advances, I am going to make sure that if you enter that match with me and expect to come through easily, that won’t be the case. All three of you better be ready to fight for your fucking lives for that spot.

And I will find the pleasure in making sure all of your suffering will be all worth nothing in the end.

—

A deep breath, finally. It’s been hours since he left his home, pulled up on the side of the road somewhere north out from Santa Monica, almost etching closer toward Bakersfield — his hands were gripped to the steering wheel, Jason was giving himself a moment to finally begin to calm his nerves, his anxiety, from getting any further off the edge than what it had been beforehand. No sound from his phone, not until after fifteen minutes of being stopped on the side of the road, when he finally had gotten a phone call from an old friend of his.

“Hey, where have you been?” The woman questioned. Her concern was greatly heartbreaking to hear, almost hearing the voice breaking over the phone, knowing that Jason’s alive for the time being. “Can you please come home? We’re worried about you. Just come home, that’s all.”

Something didn’t sit right in his stomach, something didn’t sit well with how the past few hours have gone without any noise being made. Was it a matter of overthinking? Was it a matter of his anxiety beginning to play tricks with him once again? That, sadly, he wasn’t sure of – but he had to face his demons head on. Even if he was at his weakest.