He Was Weak - (Final Boss Title RP Vs. Duncan Ryder)
Oct 31, 2022 19:36:30 GMT -5
Duncan Ryder likes this
Post by Sebastian Everett-Bryce on Oct 31, 2022 19:36:30 GMT -5
Tonight…
The dark, inky sky seemed to impose upon Seb as he sat alone, an empty crystal glass paired with a half empty bottle of scotch. His eyes were red as he stared down at his phone. On the screen were a choice of two options that stood out more prevalent from everything else.
Thad.
Sloane.
“Fuck sake.” Seb said to himself as he poured out another drink, the time showing 3:05am. He picked up his phone for the dozenth time that night, hovered his thumb, first over Thad and then Sloane. He moved back and forth over the two before he yet again dropped the phone upon the table.
“Fuck!” He shouted, before pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. He let out a strangled yell, before he drained the glass of scotch. He picked up the phone as he climbed to his feet and turned towards the black abyss that extended past the reach of the lights upon the terrace.
He broke out into a run, and as he reached the edge of the roof, he let out a guttural roar as he pulled back his arm holding the phone, ready to launch it into the night.
The only inevitability for a champion is the eventual loss of their title. With every defence, the harbinger begins to loom ever greater. With every victory, you edge closer to an eventual end. There will always be someone or something waiting for the moment that your time is up. They may come as a surprise, or hang over your reign like a shadow, waiting for the perfect moment to allow that shoe to drop. It can be personal or entirely business. But it is, without doubt, inevitable.
Hello Duncan. We meet again.
Those who have followed our mutual careers would likely consider this match simultaneously unexpected and without doubt. Afterall, we have our history, and yet until very recently the idea that the two of us would stand opposed to one another was, at best, unlikely. Even those who believed beyond doubt that we would one day oppose one another would have been unlikely to guess that it would be under these conditions. A faded animosity, a grudging respect, and in competition for the most sought after prize in Level Up Wrestling.
A probable impossibility rather than an improbable possibility.
But changes come, and I have no problem in admitting my respect for you - in fact, your scalp would be one of the more notable that I’ve taken this year, and given my record thus far, that is saying something. My feelings towards you are, without doubt, entirely different to those I harboured when you left UGWC. I’ve admitted more than once that my dislike of you was unearned. That, in reality, I was merely an angry young man shouting into the void because i didn’t have the respect I believed I was owed. Now, I know you cling on to your reasons for your hatred of me, such as it was. That’s okay - not everyone can admit that they were truly angry at the world, rather than the person at whom they aimed their barbs. I’m happy to be the bigger man in this scenario, and you can maintain your righteous stance that I deserved to be the focus of your ire rather than the reflection that looked back at you in the mirror.
That is always the harder choice.
But you and I have been inexplicably linked since the moment I returned to Level Up this year. You got the better of me in the closing moments of the Last of Us Gauntlet, the very victory that gained you the opportunity to fight for the championship you now hold. Poetic, don’t you think? I enjoy the sense of symmetry that emerges when understanding that the root of your championship reign first took hold when you last faced me. And that your championship reign has continued to bloom in these past months, only to wither and die at my hand.
Poetic indeed.
And I know, you’re expecting my utmost confidence. After all, there is but one man on this roster with a better record than you this year. And that, dear Duncan, is yours truly. Since the moment I signed with Level Up Wrestling I haven’t lost a single match in which I’ve partaken. And while your championship run picked up pace, I continued to amass success after success, culminating in victory over the last ever Carnage World Heavyweight Champion to earn the right to face you at Triforce Heroes. No short-cuts. No back handed deals. Just victories.
And inevitability.
Six Weeks Earlier…
In the weeks since Tyler’s betrayal had been revealed, it had been challenging to separate what was real from what was fiction. Had everything truly been a lie? Was Tyler the charade that helped Cypher to operate with protection from those who had invited him inwards? Or had Tyler made a mistake, and blamed it upon Cypher to shield the real man from blame?
This game, professional wrestling, had long known betrayals of various kinds. Seb himself had plunged himself into similar controversy almost two years earlier when he turned his back on his friends, Johnny, Hide and the entirely innocent Dr. Numbers, over two small words uttered during a match.
Excuse me.
When Tyler had made the choice to help Easton Alexander to kidnap Thaddeus Duke’s son, Frankie, for no more than financial gain, it was a deeper kind of betrayal than what Seb had seen before. It wasn’t outside the realms of expectation. After all, had Tyler not been the man who had leaked nude images of his ex-partner in the months leading up to the beginning of their friendship? Had it not been Tyler who had gained access to Sloane’s laptop and supplied Jace Parker Davidson with images that, whilst not intimate, were still personal.
And yet, at every turn, the four of them - he, Thad, Sloane, and Lauren - had made allowances and excuses for the man they’d chosen to befriend. It was human weakness - a tendency to allow those you care about to do more heinous things than would be allowed from those we cared little about. Despite the red flags and the historic mistakes, the four of them had allowed this man into their lives and forgiven his trespasses without atonement.
He’d never done anything to hurt them.
Until he did.
It was oddly conflicting to see the pain that Thad and Sloane had gone through in the days and weeks following the revelation. Seb wanted nothing more than to heal them and protect them from ever feeling this way again. All the while, watching the grief they shared at Tyler’s betrayal had given him pause to believe that they could never do anything that would make him feel the same way. It was a relief and a burden - to suspect them of anything less than innocent friendship and mild flirtation was a betrayal all of its own. But since the day he’d met Thaddeus Duke and fallen head over heels in love with the man who was now his best friend in the world, he’d always been there on the edge of his relationship with Sloane.
A knowing look. A probing word. The minute blushes that crossed her cheeks as he whispered in her ear.
But they were friends - nothing more. That was the line they all shared - and Tyler’s betrayal had doubled down on the notion that they would never do to him what had been done to them, despite the signs and the signals.
The red flags.
The human weakness.
The willingness to forgive in those you care about that which you wouldn’t stand for in those you couldn’t care less about.
And so he pushed down his fears as best he could, hiding them behind the continued swell of love he had for the Dukes and, of course, the family he had chosen. For the truth was that despite the flirtations and the suggestions, the reality was clear - Sloane loved Seb beyond measure. The way she looked at him, held on to him, craved to be near him bordered on obsessive - and that was fine with him, because he felt the same way too. Every night they would collapse into one another, and the entire world would fade away.
When Tyler betrayed them all, it was Seb’s arms she sought.
And so he continued to push down fear. For it was poison in his mind, and he had no intention of ruining what he had.
And as the days passed to weeks, thoughts of Tyler grew less and thoughts of the future began to swell.
On this particular morning, Seb sat alone on the roof terrace with a pot of tea. Sloane had taken the time to indulge in the pleasures of free-running following their early morning gym session, whilst Seb had made the choice to stay home and catch up with his correspondence.
Twitter. It means Twitter.
He placed his phone down on the table for a second while he lifted the teacup to his lips. He made a satisfied slurping noise, mainly because his mother wasn’t there to chastise him for it, and then paused as his phone made noise that he didn’t recognise. He looked down at the screen to see it locked - but not with the usual, manufacturer designed lockscreen. This one sent a chill up his spine - a small image of a hooded figure, and the word “g0tch4”. His jaw clenched as he looked down at the screen - this fucking guy.
And then his phone began to ring - the number was withheld, but there was no way this was a coincidence. He considered ignoring it, but then… His phone was locked. And whilst he wasn’t entirely precious about it’s use, he was also unwilling to let Cypher have control of it without a fight. His lip curled as he reached down and pressed the button to answer the call.
“What?” He said, coldly.
“Cmon dude, that’s no way to speak to an old friend…” Came the familiar voice on the other end. “Try again.”
“Oh, sure, one second.” Said Seb, before clearing his throat. “What?”
“Here I am, using my phonecall to catch up with my old friend and congratulate him on earning a shot at the Final Boss title, and this is how you treat me?” Said Tyler. “I’m hurt, man.”
“Not as badly as you deserve to be.” Seb said through gritted teeth. “Shame Thad chose to confront you on National TV - meant he had to show some restraint. I’d rather have met you down a dark alley somewhere.”
“So scary, Seb - I imagine you’d be quite intimidating.” Tyler said, before putting on a terrible British accent. “Oooooooh, Cypher, you scallywag, put up your dukes before I give you a jolly good thrashing.”
Seb wasn’t sure if the “Dukes” reference had been an intentional dig or stroke of verbal genius that he’d stumbled onto.
“Oh I don’t know - I think the Dukes did a pretty thorough job without me.” Seb retorted. He heard Cypher’s buoyant tone change.
“You know - you should be a little nicer to me. At this point, there’s options for me and not many for you. I could burn up your phone… I could have the contents leaked all over the net… Or I could give you that password you need, and give you the gift that’s waiting on there for you.” Said Tyler. Seb could hear the arrogance in his voice. Or perhaps bravado.
“I want nothing from you - after what you did? And now you pull this shit?” Seb said. “No - I’m hanging up this phone and drowning it in a teapot. Goodb…” Seb began.
“You could do that - or you could consider that maybe I’ve cloned your phone. Maybe you’re careful - or maybe Sloane sent you a spicy picture or two that you forgot to delete. Can you remember? Can you be sure?” Tyler asked. Seb felt himself tense - he hadn’t considered that. He wasn’t sure what was on his phone and what wasn’t - and Tyler had history here.
“What exactly do you want, Tyler?” Seb asked, curtly.
“A visit.” Said Cypher. “I give you the password - that gets you your phone back. But you’ll see there’s an app on there - a little design of my own. It’ll stay locked until our visit, or until I decide to release every file you have on the dark web. Your call.”
“What’s the matter? Feeling lonely? Not been made the prison bitch yet?” Asked Seb.
“Fuck you, man. That shit isn’t funny.” Said Tyler.
“My, my - did I touch a nerve? Thaddeus will be pleased.” Seb said with a satisfied smirk.
“Keep playing with me dude - I’ll just hang up this call right now and let the timer run down. When it does, everything on that phone hits the net.” Cypher threatened again. “You think Sloane will survive that? Maybe she’ll get mad at you - run to her little friend Thad. Sure he can think of a way or two to comfort her.”
Seb paused and chewed his tongue - fucking blackmail. He racked his brains trying to remember what, if anything, was on the device. But try as he may, he just couldn’t be sure that there wasn’t anything on there that would look bad for the woman he loved - christ, just some of their text messages would be problematic.
“Fine.” Said Seb. “I’ll come and visit you. How long do I have?”
“Three weeks - so, you better make arrangements fast.” Said Tyler. “Don’t let me down - I’d hate for all your dirty laundry to get aired when I’m not around to see the meltdown it causes.”
“Fuck you, Tyler. For this, and for everything else.” Seb sneered. “You’re lucky you’re under armed guard or I’d break your fucking jaw.”
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I’d make a fight east, Seb.” Spat Tyler. He could hear the venom when his name was spoken. “I’d play every bit as dirty as you know I can. And you’d better kill me if you do, because if I get back up I’ll make sure everyone in the world knows every detail of your life.”
“Good thing for both of us you’re locked up then, isn’t it?” Seb said.
“I guess so.” Replied Tyler. The silence hung between them for a second. “Passcode is 332533.”
“The fuck kind of passcode is that?” Seb asked.
“Sloane’s measurements.” Said Tyler with relish in his voice.
“I swear to god, I’m going to fucking kill you.” Said Seb.
“Get in line.” Said Tyler. And the line went dead. Seb looked down at the phone, and with a shaking hand, he punched in the numbers. As he did, the phone sprung to life, displaying an app on the home screen called “The Cypher Protocol”.
Seb dropped his phone on the table and shook his head, a fury building within him. But he knew he had to swallow it, at least until he knew what he was dealing with,
And he knew he had to keep it to himself.
When I arrived here in Level Up, I made it clear that there were names upon my list. You may think your place within my ambition stemmed from the championship you held and continue to hold to this day - but the truth is that thus far, you have my number. We’ve faced one another on two occasions, and both times you’ve emerged victorious. I have spent this year righting wrongs - not that I dispute many of the losses I’ve taken, on the contrary I think I’ve proven myself gracious in defeat. However, I do find myself with the unyielding yearn to rebalance the scales. James Raven. Ragdoll. Tempest. Cervantes. Preston. And most recently, striking the winning blow for Team Page at the Tara Fenix Charity Event.
What once was failure, renewed in success.
One year ago, my entire world had fallen apart. The Chaos Championship that I now hold snatched from my grasp. Defeat at the Main Event of the Tara Fenix Charity Cruise. Failure to win the Pro Wrestling Valor World Heavyweight Championship. There is symmetry in all, Duncan. And while I refuse to allow myself to bend to the will of anything so tertiary as fate, I’ll admit that patterns such as these intrigue me greatly. I’ll try very, very hard not to read anything into the fact that you’ve chosen to retake the name you had the last time we faced one another. A symbol, perhaps.
A mistake without doubt.
For when you left the Coalition and chose to strike out anew, you chose a new name. Some would argue it was a choice made to fit within the organisation in which you found yourself, but the reality is even simpler. A man who’s name was tainted by his own failings. Duncan Shepard became a champion, multiple times over. Duncan Shepard became a competitor that stood beneath the weight of his own success like Atlas. Duncan Shepard became everything that Duncan Ryder could never be. And while I know that you face me under your real name to try and strike at me with the dagger of our previous meeting almost two years ago, it serves as little more than motivation to right another wrong.
Duncan Shepard is a man I respected. Duncan Ryder is a man I reviled.
Alas, some would argue that a name changes nothing. You’re the same man beneath it all - but I think that’s the problem. Because if that’s true, then you’re still the man who failed to live up to the evident potential you’ve always had. There are so many reasons as to why someone can confound expectations and become greater than the sum of their parts. It can be anything from opportunity to belief. Who knows what sparked that change with little more than a renaming from Ryder to Shepard, but whatever it was, you run the risk of undoing it all by going back to the name that afforded you little more than disrespect.
Little more than derision.
And while a name is just a name, I can’t help but wonder if you can shake those chains that shackled Dashing Duncan to the ground. When you step back into his boots, will they once again feel like you’re walking through tar merely to survive. Commander Shepard broke free of the bonds that held Ryder down. He fought free of the molasses that slowed your passage. But most importantly, he made you believe that you were better than the man Duncan Ryder had ever been. He was your beacon of hope.
A symbol that you could be something different.
Something more than you were.
Three Weeks Earlier…
In the few weeks following his conversation with Tyler, Seb had managed to avoid thinking about him as much as humanly possible. Exceptions to the rule were during a visit with Thad and Lauren, and when arranging his visit in such a way that he could prevent Sloane, Thad or Lauren from finding out about it. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep it a secret, but they’d all try and talk him out of it. Try and convince him it was a terrible idea, and that he should really go to the police.
And yet there was an air of morbid curiosity about what game Tyler was playing. Besides, he was being held in Alcatraz. How often does anyone get to visit an actual prisoner being kept in actual Alcatraz. It had taken some arranging - by all accounts, Tyler still had some actual bargaining power. Just a day short of the deadline set, Sebastian arrived on the shores of Alcatraz.
“There are rules.” Said the guard on the front desk as they walked through the sign in process. “The detainee is not allowed to touch any technology of any kind - do not, and I repeat, do not hand him any laptops, tablets, cellphones or wearable technology at anytime. Should he attempt to take your phone from you, then your visit will be stopped and you’ll be removed.”
“And yet you’re allowing me to take said device into the meeting?” Seb asked.
“It’s the reason you’re here, isn’t it?” The guard asked.
“Touché.” Said Seb glancing around. “Isn’t this all a bit much? Alcatraz? For Tyler?”
“The detainee known as Cypher is well versed in technological espionage, Mr. Everett-Bryce. The best thing we can do for this world is ensure he’s surrounded by as little technology as possible.” Said the guard. Seb shook his head slightly.
“Appreciate that, but why can’t you just put him in some kind of Magneto style plastic cage with books. You know, actual books, rather than a kindle? Just feels a touch antiquated.” Seb added. “But I guess this is, as they say, your party - I’m just stopping by for one drink.”
Seb stepped back before another guard began to guide his way through the walkways. As they walked, Seb felt a chill up his spine. This place had been little more than a tourist attraction for almost half a century, and now it was the place where Tyler Norrie would be spending god knows how long. Seb did everything in his power not to feel sorry for him after what he’d done, but this place felt cruel and unusual. So many had died here - it was harsh in the most extreme terms.
Seb held on to the thought of the pain his friends had gone through. The kidnap of their son and the betrayal that came with it. And yet, despite all of that, Seb couldn’t shake that claustrophobic feeling that came with the narrow pathways through the prison itself. The old, broken down cells were a monument to a different world. In places the staining on the ground was indiscernible between rust and blood. The long walk named Broadway, between blocks B and C led to an open door at the far end of the corridor, just across a narrow expanse that had been nicknamed Time Square.
Seb’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes spied beyond those doors, the man sat staring straight at him. He was situated in what was once the old mess hall, nicknamed the Gas chamber - a wide expansive space. And yet, as Seb and his guard reached the door, he couldn’t help but notice the modifications - there were no dining tables, just a single table bolted into the ground. Tyler sat quietly waiting, a smirk upon his face. His wrists and ankles cuffed and chained to a metal o-ring protruding from the ground.
“Remember what we said - you can take the phone in, but he doesn’t touch it. If he tries to take it, we take you out and he’s taken back to his cell.” The guard said. “We’ll be just outside the room, but monitoring. If he tries anything, we’ll take action - but understand that it has been made clear that we cannot and will not fatally wound the detainee.”
“Got it.” Said Seb, not taking his eyes off his waiting host. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Shall I go in?”
The guard nodded as Seb pushed in through the final door. For a second he was frozen in place. And then this unshakable need to strike formed within him - he managed to choke it down, instead thrusting his hands into his pockets and beginning a sauntering walk towards the table.
“What do you think of the new apartment?” Asked Tyler.
“Little big for your needs, Tyler. But then again, you always had ideas above your station.” Seb said. Tyler’s lip flickered with anger for a second, before he settled into a smirk.
“For the record, I’d have been happy to meet at Starbucks again.” Said Tyler, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Turns out, I quite like the long black with Red Bull - don’t tell anyone though.”
Seb let out a derisive chuckle, before lowering himself into his seat and crossing his legs.
“You understand that, no matter how hard you try, you’re never going to be a Bond villain.” Said Seb.
“And you’ll never be 007 either, but it doesn’t stop you from trying way, way too hard.” Said Tyler. Seb smirked. “Though I guess you’ll need all the smoulder and charm you can muster when facing off against Commander Shepherd.”
“It’s Ryder these days apparently.” Said Seb.
“Ryder… Duncan Ryder.” Said Tyler, mockingly. “Doesn’t quite have the James Bond ring. Though it’s better than your long ass name - movie would be half done with you in the Bond role. Fucking villians would give up half way through you introducing yourself.”
“Hilarious.” Said Seb.
“Seriously though - looking forward to hearing all about what happens between you and Duncan. Guy always looked down on me.” Said Tyler.
“Yes well, he does that.” Said Seb with a smirk. “But in your case, it looks as though he had the measure of you - quite a few people did.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Said Tyler, leaning back in his chair. He reached up to scratch his temple, the metal chains clanking with every movement. “S.E.B… The Final Boss Champion. Saw this coming, y’know? The day you walked into Level Up - what was weird was that I didn’t really care. Like, I wasn’t gonna cheer you on, but I wasn’t looking for you to fail either.”
“You’re all heart.” Said Seb rolling his eyes.
“Just sayin’.” Tyler added. “Then we started to become friends and I was like… Shit - this dude could be the one that’s gonna beat Shepherd…”
“Look at that - you’ve proven yourself adept at pointing out the obvious.” Seb said with a sneer. “What am I doing here, Tyler?”
His host clicked his tongue with frustration at his attempt at small talk being cut off. Instead, he seemed resigned to move on to other business..
“Did you bring your phone?” Tyler asked. Seb nodded, but made no move to take it from his pocket. “The app - it should have unlocked, but it still needs a pass code.”
“Right - let me guess? Lauren’s measurements this time? Or to the decimal point, the length of Thad’s di…” Seb started, but Tyler slammed his hands on the table.
“Don’t.” He said dangerously. “Do not…”
“My, my - I certainly touched a nerve didn’t I?” Seb said, with an air of arrogance.
“You could say that - look at where I am, Seb. Do you honestly think it’s fair that I’m here?” Asked Tyler.
“After what you did?” Seb asked, making clear by his inflection that there was no doubt - even if those doubts were very real.
“What I did… What I did… Easton would have gotten to Frankie no matter what. All I did was make sure that it was quick, easy and painless. Sure, I made some money off the back of it, but it was everything I deserved. All the shady shit you and Thad had me do - and I never wanted paying for any of it. I just wanted to be your fucking equal! Yet there the two of you were, thick as fucking theives and me sat at the kiddie table just waiting until you were ready to use me again.”
“We never used you, Tyler. That’s a lie. You know it’s a lie, but you’re trying to convince yourself differently to placate your own guilt for what you did.” Said Seb. “We accepted you - what you were, entirely. We gave you a chance when everyone else thought you were a liability - and you threw it back at our feet and spat on it. You’re getting exactly what you deserve.”
Tyler opened his mouth to respond, but held his tongue. He took a moment to compose himself, before looking down at the table.
“They beat me. They humiliated me. They had me fired.” Said Tyler quietly. “And if that wasn’t enough, they celebrated that this happened to me.”
“You’re lucky this is all that happened - you think you couldn’t have ended up in an alleyway somewhere with a bullet in the back of your head?” Said Seb. “This is like a Hilton compared to what they could have done to you.”
“So your spectacles aren’t quite as rose-tinted about our mutual friend as I thought.” Said Tyler, with a look of intrigue.
“I know what I know, and I’ve heard the rumours - I know he can be dangerous. And that if he’d wanted you truly gone, then there’s not much you could have done to stop it. As it is, I suspect he thinks this particular punishment is fitting of the crime.” Seb replied.
“Let’s bookmark that for later, dude. We’ll definitely come back around..” Said Tyler with a smirk. “Take out your phone.”
Seb reached into his inside pocket and pulled out his phone, placing it on the desk between the two of them. As he unlocked the phone, he noticed that the “Cypher Protocol” app had changed - it was no longer grey, but vivid green.
“Open it.” Tyler said, almost hungrily. Seb looked down at the screen, and pressed on the app. The moment he did, a number of messages began to pop up.
File back up purged.
Tracking terminated.
Connections broken.
One by one the messages popped up, and one by one they disappeared.
“What the fuck did you do, Tyler?” Seb asked angrily.
“I gave you your phone back.” Said Tyler smiling. “The moment you opened that app, any back ups that I’d created were deleted. I removed the capability for N0R4 to track you - which, by the way, is how she knew to unlock the app remotely, and I severed her link to your phone.”
“... Why?” Seb asked.
“Because if hacking you and leaking your shit was my goal, I’d have done that three weeks ago. To you, to Sloane, to Thad, to Lauren. I’d have brought all of it down, and shown the world your true faces just like all of you seem to think they did to me.” Snapped Cypher. “But I wanted to get you here. That’s all - you’re here, so now you get your stupid phone back. With an addition.”
Tyler glanced down at the screen with those bulging eyes. The messages were gone.
“I used Ransomware to hijack your phone - but that’s nothing compared to what else this app does.” Said Tyler.
Seb glanced at the options - Firewall breach, exploit, spyware.
“What is this?” Seb asked.
“When I went into your old man’s server, I dropped a whole host of programs in his system. They’re dormant, but you can activate them from your phone. I created a kind of AI that learns the systems and continuously learns how to adapt to changes. You have an all access pass into your daddy’s system - security, servers. Everything.” Said Tyler.
Seb was confused - this entire thing had been a stunt to get him here to give him access to his father’s systems. Was this a play to try and make amends? But why Seb? Obviously Thad would have been less likely to play along, and Sloane would have blown the whistle right away. And yet, he had no real sway in trying to change Thad’s mind - he never could.
“Why are you giving me this?” Seb asked. “If you think I’m going to try and argue on your behalf with Thad or Sloane you have to be…”
“Oh, no, no, no, bruh.” Said Tyler, his mouth curling into a smile. “That’s not what this is about at all - see, the exploits were stage one. I’d already built these weeks ago, ready to show you. See, I wanted to give you control of your daddy’s world. I just didn’t have time to close it all down - but fuck it. You’ll probably end up getting yourself into trouble you can’t get out of. But the real reason I wanted this app on your phone is right… There.”
Cypher gestured towards the third option. Spyware.
“Press it.” Tyler said, with relish. And for some reason that Seb couldn’t place, he felt the chill creep up his neck all over again. He reached over and pressed the icon - the screen changed to show two names.
Thad. Sloane.
“And there it is.” Said Tyler with a smirk.
“What is this?” Asked Seb, his eyes widening. “What the fuck is this?”
“This is access to everything you could ever need to know about your girlfriend and your best friend. Phones. Laptops. Emails. Messages. Pictures. Calendars. You can access the camera on their phone, or the microphone even. Plus it’s smart, so it uses the WiFi in any location to trawl through any hardware connected to either of them. Bluetooth. Wireless Speakers.”
“I don’t want this.” Seb said with disgust. “Why would I possibly want this?”
He reached down and swiped the screen closed, holding his thumb over the app - a moment later, the option popped up to delete.
“Because you’ll finally get to know the truth - what are they planning exactly? That date they’ve been talking about? Where are they now? Their little innuendos on Twitter for the world to see - imagine what they’re saying where no-one is looking.” Tyler said quietly. Seb’s thumb hadn’t moved, hadn’t taken the decision to delete the app. “Curiosity, right? It’s got to eat away at you - knowing that you could open up that app and find out that they’re sharing spicy pictures when you’re not looking? Imagine when she gets that little smile on her face, and you can check what the message said that caused it. Imagine when they suddenly go quiet during their little Twitter convos… You could check what they do afterwards.”
Seb could feel his hand beginning to shake, before he looked Tyler in the eye with disgust.
“I don’t… Fucking… Want this…” He said, pressing the delete button. The icon disappeared.
And then a moment later, it reappeared.
“Tough luck.” Said Tyler, before he began to laugh. “This is on your phone now - and every phone you ever get. Forever. You can’t hide from it, Seb - the power to know the truth is in your pocket every… single… day.”
“No…” Said Seb quietly, as he tried over and over to delete the app, before looking up into Tyler’s laughing face. “Fuck you, Tyler. I hope you rot in here.”
Seb climbed to his feet and turned his back on his host. He made strides towards the doorway, and slammed through it.
“I’m done.” He said to the guard.
“Catcha later, ‘bro’, have fun!” Called the still laughing Tyler. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Fucking… Cunt.” Said Seb, under his breath as he continued his march towards the direction he’d originally arrived.
I know what this means to you, Duncan. This run, your time here in Level Up. I know the deep seeded feeling of vindication. I don’t begrudge you that, because the truth is that I feel the same. I, like you, made the choice to strike out from the only place I’d ever truly been known. I made my presence felt in New York before that opportunity was taken away. And then came Level Up Wrestling - another chance to prove that I could be more than what everyone thought that I was told I could be. The outsider. The nearly-man.
The choke artist.
I understand that sentiment. Afterall, my one and only run with a World Championship lasted little more than a month. Since then I’ve had two chances to prove that I’m the guy in any company that I’m in. Twice the Raven hung like an omen of death to my chances. So now, here I am. Once again on the cusp of something truly great - a legacy defining moment for a man like me, and for the Final Boss Championship. I stand upon the precipice of doing what you did all those months ago at Doom. That night, you wanted it more than Joey Crash.
Now, I want it more than you.
I need this, Ducan. I don’t mind telling you - and sure, that comes across a little desperate. That’s fine - I’ll let you play the cool, calm and collected champion. But your poise won’t change your reality - that you’re facing what is not only your greatest challenge for that Final Boss Championship, but the greatest challenge for that Final Boss Championship that exists in Level Up today. This is the contest that the world wanted to see - and deep down, it was the contest that you wanted, because you want to prove yourself to be one of the greatest champions of all time.
Be careful what you wish for.
I have been the very best in the business at what I do for years, with little to show for it. Call it luck, call it circumstance, call it the unfortunate nature of what we do for a living. But I have been called one of the very best there is, without ever having the accolades to show for it. Then came this year - breaking records in UGWC. Becoming a name that everyone wants to face. And now, Duncan, I stand before you as the man that Tempest named The Arsonist, the man that JC chose to fight against all others, as Chris Page’s marquee signing for CCPE and the one man he could trust above all to represent him against Team Black. But to you? I am the succession.
Whether you like it or not.
Your reign as champion will be remembered, Duncan, I won’t deny you that. You have, and will always retain my respect, whether you want to or not. You have done much to rebuild your legacy in this business. But when I beat you, I secure my legacy. Forever embossed with three simple letters that no-one will ever forget.
S.E.B.
And in beating you, not only will I have overcome a ghost of my past, but I will have defeated one of the greatest Champions in the history of Level Up Wrestling. I will boast of your defeat until the end of time, because I know without doubt that your defeat comes at a cost. This match, this night, will change both of us forever. and whilst only one of us will walk out as the Final Boss Champion, we will both be remembered for having partaken in one of the most epic battles that this company has ever seen. This is going to be something to remember, Duncan. Unfortunately for you, Triforce heroes will be remembered for another reason too.
This Tuesday, Level Up Wrestling becomes my Empire.
And I’m truly glad you’ll be there to see it when it happens.
Tonight…
Seb’s strangled yell died in his throat as he stood facing out into the night. The phone was still in his hand, clutched tight. He felt the tears sting his eyes as he turned and leaned against the small wall that surrounded the terrace and sunk down to the ground.
He was weak.
Days before, on his first official visit to Veneras, Seb had been introduced to members of the cybersecurity team. They’d explained their expertise in all things cybercrime, including attacks upon servers and personal devices. He’d enquired as to whether they had the expertise to remove unwanted apps from a device. They’d taken his phone and connected it to their software - moments later, they’d been a single keystroke away from removing Cypher’s app from his device. Seb had reached out, snatched back the phone and stormed outside. The app remained.
He was weak.
As he sat with his back pressed against the cold brick, he could feel the voice in the back of his head building. Open the app. Just one look. Just one check will remove all doubt. His jaw clenched as he leaned his head back against the edge of the wall.
“Fuck you, Tyler.” He said, before letting out another guttural growl.
The three weeks that had past since his visit to Alcatraz had been torturous. When he was with those he loved, he could hide from the nagging doubt. But in those moments he was alone, he could feel every single painful sting that had pierced him almost a year ago. Sloane with someone else. Not with him. With someone different.
Every exchange on Twitter, every shared look, every small, momentary shared joke burned at him with the heat of the sun. He wanted to trust them. He wanted to trust the love of his life and his best friend and he knew the doubt in his heart wasn’t in them, but was with himself.
He was weak.
He looked down at his phone one last time, at that blazing green symbol that adorned his screen, and he held his thumb over the icon. And in that moment, he knew the truth with utmost finality.
He.. Was… Weak…
