AN: For the next two weeks, updates will be erratic due to my exams
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Tony's confusion lasted all of three seconds.
He was still trying to process the sheer number of bodies flooding the aisle when one of the masked men blocking the NPJW wrestlers' escape reached up and peeled his hood back.
The arena exploded.
"BROCKE STEELE!"
Tony nearly choked. "WHAT?"
Luke shot to his feet, eyes wide. "No way—"
Brocke grinned, wide and unapologetic, shoved the NPJW wrestler in front of him backward with a single hand, and then physically pulled the barricade gate open. The metal rattled as he stepped through, ducking his head slightly, the crowd parting like a wave around him.
The reaction was feral.
Noah could barely hear himself. "That's Brocke Steele! The Steel Titan's one half!"
Irvin laughed, adrenaline bleeding through his voice. "IRW just flipped the script!"
One by one, the rest of the masked men tore their hoods away.
Cal and Marcus Flashpoint.
Axel and Jett of the Apex Predators.
Hunter Locke.
Randal Savage.
IRW.
Every single one of them.
Tony's jaw hung open. "They hid half of the entire locker room in the crowd."
Justin was vibrating. "This—this is insane. This is—"
Luke finished it for him. "War."
Outside the ring, the NPJW wrestlers suddenly realized the trap they'd walked into.
They tried to retreat.
They couldn't.
IRW closed in from every angle.
Brocke grabbed one man by the collar and shoved him back over the barricade into the aisle. Cal and Marcus swarmed another, fists flying. Axel drove a knee into someone's midsection while Jett laughed, shoving him down into a pile of bodies.
The crowd roared with every strike.
Inside the ring, Victor Cross and Zen were already in the middle of it.
Zen swung hard, his forearm smashing into Victor's jaw, staggering him back. Victor answered with a right hand of his own, the two trading blows like men who had been waiting for this moment their entire careers.
For a heartbeat, Zen looked like he might overpower Victor—his strikes sharper, his movement more practiced.
Then Diego Cortez came out of nowhere.
He launched himself at Zen's back, boots slamming into his spine in a clean dropkick. Zen pitched forward, barely staying on his feet.
The crowd lost its mind.
"DIEGO!"
Zen stumbled straight into Steve Austin.
Austin didn't hesitate.
He drove a sharp kick into Zen's midsection.
Zen folded—
And Austin snapped his jaw down onto his shoulder.
The Stunner.
The sound echoed.
Zen clutched his face, staggering backward, eyes unfocused.
Victor was waiting.
He hooked Zen's arm, spun, and drove him down with a running powerslam that shook the ring.
Noah was shouting now. "Zen is down! Zen is down!"
Outside, the NPJW wrestlers were in no better shape.
Hunter hoisted one man and slammed him onto the floor. Randal Savage stood over another, pointing at the crowd as they booed and cheered in equal measure. Brocke picked one up and threw him, sending him skidding across the aisle.
IRW stood tall.
Zen dragged himself up using the ropes, blood trickling from his nose, eyes wild. He looked around—
And saw his men groaning on the floor.
Saw IRW wrestlers looming over them.
Saw the crowd cheering his humiliation.
That was the moment it hit him.
He had miscalculated.
Badly.
Then the music hit.
🎵 Here comes the money… 🎵
The reaction was instantaneous.
Tony blinked. "Who else?"
Luke whispered, "What now?"
Justin squeaked, "That's the owner."
Lance Dawson walked out first, suit immaculate, expression unreadable. He moved with the slow, measured confidence of a man who had waited years for a moment like this.
And beside him—
Vince Maston.
The crowd needed a second to process what they were seeing.
The owner of IRW.
Bruises still faintly visible on his face. Right hand wrapped, knuckles bandaged. Black suit sharp against the chaos unfolding behind him.
The realization spread like fire.
"He's here."
"That's Vince."
"That's the guy Zen beat up."
Tony leaned forward, eyes locked on him. "That's him."
Luke swallowed. "He doesn't look...good."
Justin was awestruck. "He looks…happy."
Vince stepped through the ropes, calm as if he were walking into a boardroom instead of a battlefield.
Victor and Brocke hauled Zen upright, holding him in place.
Zen glared, fury burning behind the pain.
Vince took the mic from Lance and smiled.
Not a nice smile.
"I had said," Vince said evenly, his voice cutting clean through the noise, "I would get my revenge."
The crowd erupted.
Zen spat blood and glared harder.
Vince handed the mic back to Lance, rolled his shoulders once—
And kicked Zen square in the ribs.
Zen collapsed to his knees.
Vince didn't stop.
Another kick.
And another.
Zen curled in on himself, arms coming up instinctively, trying to shield his body.
The crowd roared approval with every strike.
Luke exhaled. "Holy—"
Tony didn't even blink. "He earned that. I mean, he did get beat up pretty badly."
After a few seconds, Vince stepped back, breathing hard, clearly satisfied. He took the mic again and turned to the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, pausing deliberately, letting the anticipation stretch, "let… the… promotion wars… begin!"
The building exploded.
Chants erupted. Cheers drowned everything else.
Zen was dragged out of the ring along with the rest of the NPJW wrestlers, beaten, humiliated, surrounded.
Lance leaned toward Noah and signaled.
Noah raised his mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, due to what just transpired, tonight's show will end here—"
The crowd groaned loudly.
"But next week," Noah continued quickly, "IRW presents a special two-hour event! And it will feature a Falls Count Anywhere match between Eddie Prince and Hogan Hornet for the Men's Championship!"
The reaction spiked again.
Justin slapped Tony's shoulder. "I wanted more beatdown, but I'll take that!"
Luke nodded, eyes still on Vince. "I can't wait for next week."
At O'Reilly's Tavern, the place was chaos.
Beer sloshed. Tables shook. The IRW Ultras were on their feet, screaming at the screens as Zen's failed invasion replayed.
Harry Khan threw his fist into the air. "YES!"
The bar erupted.
"They thought they could walk in!" someone shouted.
"They thought we wouldn't answer!"
Harry laughed, loud and wild, raising his glass. "Drinks are on me tonight!"
The cheers doubled.
One man leaned in close. "We should hit NPJW territory. Tonight."
Several heads snapped toward him.
Agreement spread fast.
Harry's grin widened, dangerous and satisfied. "Let's go."
The war had officially begun.