The Path They Walked Was a Circle

by **krzy** Mon Apr 15, 2019 9:18 pm

Let me take you back to Sacrifice, a night of triumphs and failures. A rollercoaster of emotions, highs and lows, a ride that left you physically spent and emotionally exhausted.

At the peak of that journey? The main event. The door buster. The reason tickets were bought and thousands packed into a sold-out arena. A colossal encounter between champion Andrew Briggs and long-time rival PJ Moon.

Yes, thousands packed into the arena.

Thousands of pairs of eyes watched as Briggs scraped his way past a game challenger to retain the World Championship.

Thousands, yes, but one man stood out in particular.

The cameras take us backstage to visit him.

Jacob Ziegler watches the events unfold, arms crossed, lips twisted down into a scowl. Can you blame him? This should be him battling back Moon again. This should be him celebrating a championship retention in the main event of the pay per view.

It should be.

It isn't.

It isn't, and it's killing Ziegler inside, all evident in the expression of frustration painted on his face by these circumstances.

A doctor approaches Ziegler from his left.

"I'm sorry," the medical professional says in a melancholic tone. "The fracture is more severe than indicated in the initial diagnosis. We'll have to extend your recovery time an extra month, maybe--"

Ziegler's head snaps around. The camera zooms out to reveal the former champion's lower half. Sure enough a cast houses the injured limb. He's radiating anger now, as though red-hot fury flows through his veins.

"A month?" he asks, forcing the words through grit teeth. "You said that I'd be getting this damn thing off my foot tonight."

The doctor takes in a deep breath to steady his nerves and to keep his voice even as he speaks. "I know, and again, I apologize, Jacob, but I--"

"Tonight!" Ziegler barks. "And then I'd be back inside of the ring tomorrow fighting for my World Heavyweight Championship."

Ziegler turns his back to the doctor. He's just doing his job, and Ziegler knows it. Finally Ziegler says in a softer tone, "What's the best case scenario here?"

A second passes.

And then another.

When the third tick of the clock comes and goes, Ziegler turns back around.

Kurasuke stands across from him.

The last time they shared a space, Ziegler left Kurasuke a mangled heap on the ground, a watershed moment in his career letting Cole Savage know that the path to the World Championship was one the proud Scot would walk alone.

The time before that? Well, that's ancient CMV history.

This time, however, there's a certain aura that fills the room, one that has evaporated the frustration from Ziegler's face leaving a look of concern in its wake.

Finally a voice speaks from beneath the mask.

"Few know how it began. All will remember how it ended."

Ziegler smirks, either an act of resignation or a signature moment of quiet defiance.

A light suddenly engulfs the room, blinding and pure in its essence. When it fades, Kurasuke is alone.

Perhaps this is the best case scenario.