Legion dived and aimed a kick at the mans head slapping his thigh hard to get that sound. No sold again. "What are you doing man? Play ball."

  The blonde green eyed athlete shook his head and answered with a hard punch knocking Legion to the ground. It hurt. It hurt like hell. There was no pull there. "What the hell are you doin?"

  Terry lay on the mat, his head spinning, a sharp pain radiating from his jaw. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, the bright arena lights blinding him momentarily. This was wrong—that punch had felt real, way too real. His mind struggled to make sense of what was happening, his heart pounding.

  The crowd cheered wildly, oblivious to his confusion. Terry could hear them chanting, their voices echoing in his ears. "VALOR! VALOR!" He glanced up at his opponent, the blonde-haired wrestler standing tall, his fists clenched. The guy didn’t look like he was playing anymore—there was nothing staged about that glare. Terry swallowed, the adrenaline beginning to mix with something else: fear.

  "Get up, freak!" Valor—his opponent—taunted him, a sneer on his lips. He flexed for the crowd, who responded with a roar of approval. The blue and white of his tights seemed to almost glow under the arena lights, a stark contrast to Terry’s dark, tattered look.

  Terry pushed himself up, shaking his head. This had to be some kind of nightmare. There was no way this was happening—he must have blacked out in the gym, he must be dreaming. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breath.

  "Legion..." The word echoed in his head, the voice of the hooded figure from before. It wasn't just a nightmare. This was real.

  The crowd roared again, this time chanting, "FIGHT! FIGHT!" They wanted a show, they wanted action. Terry could see the referee looking at him, the confusion and frustration written all over his face. In the middle of the ring, Valor was getting ready, bouncing on his feet, clearly expecting Terry to fight back.

  This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A voice whispered in his mind. The power. The chance to prove yourself. Terry clenched his jaw, ignoring the pain. He had always been overlooked, always held back—but here, and now there was no one telling him to lay down and lose. He was gonna fight.

  Terry pushed himself to his feet, his eyes locking on Valor. The blonde wrestler smirked, motioning for Terry to come at him, to take his best shot.

  “Alright, you want to see what Legion can do?” Terry muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He wiped at his mouth, smearing the face paint, and stepped forward. The pain, the fear—he let it fuel him. The crowd wanted a fight? He’d give them a damn fight.

  Terry lunged, this time more deliberate. He went low, dodging Valor’s fist, and drove his shoulder into the man’s midsection, wrapping his arms around his waist. Valor grunted, staggering back as Terry drove forward with all his weight. He could hear the crowd, hear them gasp as Valor stumbled, struggling to maintain his balance.

  But this wasn’t a show. Terry didn’t let up—he lifted Valor, forcing all his strength into the movement, and brought him crashing down onto the mat. The sound of bodies hitting the canvas echoed through the arena, and for the first time since this nightmare had started, Terry felt in control.

  Valor groaned, trying to push himself up, but Terry didn’t give him a chance. He grabbed a fistful of the blonde’s tights, hauling him up and slamming his knee into Valor’s ribs. The crowd’s cheers turned into a mixture of shouts—some cheering, others booing.

  “C’mon!” Terry roared, the adrenaline coursing through him, drowning out everything else. He lifted Valor up, wrapping his arms around his chest from behind. The crowd watched as he set up for a German suplex, his body tensing. This wasn’t just about winning a match anymore—it was about survival, about proving himself in a world that didn’t follow the rules he knew.

  With a primal yell, Terry threw Valor back, his feet leaving the mat as the suplex connected. He could feel the blonde’s body hit the canvas, the shock of the impact resonating through his own body.

  For a moment, there was silence. The crowd seemed stunned, Valor lying sprawled out on the mat, and Terry on his knees, breathing hard. This was real. The pain, the struggle—it was all real. He wasn’t just Terry Starr, some mid-card wrestler from back home—he was Legion.

  Slowly, Terry stood up, looking around at the arena, the faces of the crowd now watching with wide eyes. They booed and chanted you suck, but they were all watching. For the first time, they were really watching him.

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  He looked down at Valor, who was struggling to push himself up. Terry took a step forward, then stopped. Something in the blonde’s eyes—confusion, fear—made him hesitate. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to be working together, creating a spectacle, a show. But here, there was no script, no planned ending.

  He glanced at the referee, who was nervously standing in the corner, unsure of what to do. Terry turned back to Valor and extended a hand, offering to help him up.

  For a moment, Valor looked at him, eyes filled with suspicion. Then, slowly, he made to take his hand, allowing Terry to pull him to his feet. The crowd erupted, cheers and boos mixing together, the noise almost deafening.

  But as Valor almost grabbed his hand, Terry saw the flash of anger in his eyes. Before he could react, Valor pulled his wrist and swung—his fist connecting with Terry’s jaw once again. Pain exploded in his head, and he staggered back, falling against the ropes.

  The crowd roared, and Terry could feel the anger rising inside of him again. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

  Slowly, he pushed himself back up, his eyes locking on Valor. He could see the blonde’s smirk, see the challenge in his eyes. This was the world he was in now—a world where wrestling wasn’t just a performance. It was survival, it was power, and if Terry wanted to make it, if he wanted to prove himself, he had to be willing to fight.

  “Alright then,” Terry muttered, a grin spreading across his face despite the pain. “Let’s do this.”

  Valor launched at Legion, pushing him into the ropes, then following up with elbow to the head which took Terry down again. The pain exploded but he pushed himself back up again only to be met with a boot before he made it to his knees.

  The crowd screamed "Valor! Valor! Rising star! Rising star!" Terry figured he was right about the kid being a small town hero, until he finally got to his feet and from the top rope was hit with a flying crossbody. "RISINGGG STARRR!" The crowd erupted, while Terry felt his insides rearrange.

  "One! Two! Three! Your winner is Valor!"

  The bell rang, and the crowd erupted. "Your winner is Valor!" the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers echoing the referee, and the roar of the audience almost drowned it out completely. They were on their feet, cheering for their hometown hero, their Rising Star.

  Terry lay on the mat, gasping for air, his body aching from the relentless barrage. Every muscle burned, his ribs throbbed, and his head was pounding. This wasn’t just a match—it was a beating. The realization settled in as the pain continued to radiate through him.

  Above him, Valor stood victorious, his hand held high by the referee, basking in the adoration of the crowd. The blue and white of his tights shimmered under the bright lights, his smile radiant as he looked around at the people who chanted his name. The crowd loved him—they were all here for him.

  Terry rolled onto his side, struggling to push himself up. The noise was deafening, and he could barely hear his own thoughts over the pounding in his ears. His head spun, his vision blurred, but he forced himself to his feet, grabbing the ropes for support. The crowd didn't even notice him—they were too busy celebrating their hero.

  This was different. This world was different. Wrestling wasn’t a game here, it wasn’t a show—it was everything. Every blow, every fall, every cheer—it was all real. Terry felt a strange sense of emptiness in that realization. The pain, the cheers, the victory—it all meant something here, and he had just been on the losing end.

  He looked at Valor, the young wrestler now standing on the turnbuckle, his arms raised, pointing at the crowd, feeding off their energy. The crowd roared louder, chanting his name, calling him their Rising Star.

  Terry's chest tightened. He had wanted this, hadn’t he? To be the one standing there, the one with his hand raised, with the people chanting his name. But now, he was nothing but the loser, the jobber, the one left lying on the mat while the hero soaked in the glory.

  "Legion..." The voice echoed in his mind again, the same whisper from before, soft but commanding. This is what you wanted. To be something more. To prove yourself.

  Terry’s eyes narrowed as he glared up at Valor. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. He wasn’t just going to let this world push him down, wasn’t going to let this kid stand over him like he was some kind of stepping stone. If they wanted Legion, he’d show them what that meant.

  Slowly, painfully, Terry pushed himself up, his fingers tightening around the ropes. He staggered to his feet, his legs shaky, but the fire in his eyes burned bright. He took a step toward Valor, his body screaming in protest, and then another.

  Valor turned, dropping from the turnbuckle, his triumphant expression shifting as he saw Terry standing there. The grin faded, replaced by a look of confusion—then caution. Terry smirked, a twisted grin spreading across his face, the black and white paint smeared across his features making him look almost monstrous.

  "Hey, kid," Terry called, his voice hoarse. Valor turned fully to face him, his eyebrows furrowed. The crowd quieted, the cheers dying down as they watched, their eyes shifting from their hero to the dark figure standing in the ring.

  "You got your win," Terry said, his voice dripping with venom. "But this isn’t over. You want to be the Rising Star? Then you'd better be ready to fight for it—because Legion doesn’t go down that easy."

  The words hung in the air, the crowd murmuring, uncertainty rippling through them. Valor stared at him, his jaw clenched, his eyes locking with Terry’s. For a moment, there was silence between them, the tension in the air thick.

  Then, Valor nodded slowly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Anytime, anywhere, freak," he replied, the confidence still in his voice. He turned and stepped out of the ring, the referee following behind him, and the crowd began to cheer once more, though it was less enthusiastic now, the energy slightly off-balance.

  Terry watched as Valor made his way up the ramp, the cheers growing louder again as the young hero raised a fist for the crowd. But Terry knew it wouldn’t last. He’d be back. And next time, Terry wouldn’t be the one lying on the mat.