The world is a blur, images distorted, and something is shining brighly in my eyes.  I blink, trying to clear away the blood so I can see.  I shake, wishing the pain would go away.  Where am I? What am I doing?

 

I hear something.  Something is hitting the ground next to me, three consecutive slaps….and it’s followed by ringing in my ears… and a distant scream.

 

Now someone’s got my arm, they’re pulling me up, raising my arm above my head… why?  The world begins to clear, images sharpen and memories come flooding back.  I’m standing, I think, in the middle of the ring and I’m surrounded by adulation from everyone I see.  Realization hits me as I look down, and find Legend at my feet, and a feeling begins to stir inside my heart.

 

I did it.  I may not remember exactly how at this moment, but I did it.  My breath is caught in my throat, my stomach churns on the edge of nausea, red rain drops trickle before my weary eyes, but dammit, I did it. 

 

It’s hard to stay focused, I just want to fall and die on the spot, sleep for a thousand years and I think what the hell?  Legend stirs, he’s now in the corner, and despite the pain, the exhaustion, I am weary.  I couldn’t take another hit, I would shatter.  He steps forward, he’s coming my way.  For a split second I consider retreat, but that’s not who I am.  I stand there, and he joins me in the center of the ring.  He speaks, but I am not sure I understand completely what he’s saying.  I try to reply, hoping I make sense.

 

And then he offers his hand.

 

Uncountable thoughts race through me, trust not easily one of them.  But this man pushed me beyond my limits, and I remember now I said he was no fraud in the ring, and he proved it. 

 

We shake hands, and Legend leaves me to celebrate with the world, that Chamelion has taken another step towards his destiny.

 

Despite the incredible feeling that washes over me, as I come to understand what this means, there is only one thing I want right now.

 

Sleep.

 

Time Passes

 

After being patched up, given some medication and driven back to his hotel room, Chamelion fell fully clothed onto the bed and faded into oblivion for the next twelve full hours.  The precious slumber assisted in recouperating Chamelion enough, so when he finally awoke, mid afternoon the next day, he was clear.  No headache, thank goodness, although his forehead still stung majorly and his muscles ached with tremendous complaint.  A hot shower helped to settle their groaning and Chamelion called a local restaurant for take-out.  His flight wasn’t scheduled until late that evening, and he really didn’t want to move anymore then he really had too.  While waiting, Chamelion flipped on the television, hoping to hear more about last night.  What he did come across, however, was an advertisement for this coming Havok.  He blinked, when he heard the announcer exclaim;

 

“…and Chamelion, the number one contender to the BWF World Title, will be in action against The Real Deal, Rob Torborg!....”

 

Click. 

 

Time catches up to Chamelion, putting him into the here and now, as he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the blank television for a few moments.  Shaking his head slowly, he tosses the remote away from him, sighing.

 

“No rest for the wicked.”

 

He then stands and limps to the mini-fridge and fetches out a bottle of ice water.  He drinks half of it down before sighing deeply and capping it.  Returning to the bed, he flops down on it and stares at the ceiling.

 

“Last night, I nearly saw the end of everything.  The end of my streak, the end of my journey, the end of my motivation.  They say when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes…..”

 

Blinking, Chamelion grins.

 

“…Man, I need a life.  Seriously, I am awed by the outcome as much as anyone.  Legend, man, pushing aside everything I said about you; you really are awesome.  I told you one day you’ll earn your spotlight… and I think last night you legitimately took a portion away from me.  I’d say hats off to ya, but I need something to cover these cuts.”

 

Not moving, he continues.

 

“I proved myself, last night.  The doubters and critics are silenced as they now understand what I am truly capable of doing.  I made a vow, and I kept it, barely.  But I did, and now my journey is coming closer to it’s end.  Toxic, the new BWF World Champion, is my final wall… and unlike Legend, who is concise and focused on one strict path, Toxic is a bit more varied.  I’m going to have to find new ways to better myself against him, because I know that while I hunger to be world champion, he is going to strive to remain, and I expect nothing less then the best from him.”

 

Let’s face it, this is it, Chamelion ain’t moving.

 

“But I can not focus on Toxic right away.  In seven short days, very short the way I am feeling mind you, I have a new challenge.  The so-called Real Deal, Rob Torborg.  Don’t think I forgot about your comments at Wrestle Fest 3, kiddo.  You put me down for being a tag champion who beat the same guys a hundred times… you may not have realized it, but you did step into my path back then, I was just too busy with far more important things.  Seems, in the end, so were you.  I struggled to earn this, but you go and just ask for a title shot? Well, we saw the end result to that, you didn’t get the job done; AGAIN.”

 

“Your kind of like a Mexican jumping bean, Torby, hopping from one title or situation to another.  You have a good list of credible championships to your name, but you never seem to be able to hold onto them.  It’s like you jump, with potential, only to fall quickly, and then moments later, UP you go again.  Up, down, up, down.. you miss the consistency of being a valued champion, and at Broken Resolutions, you found yourself fallen again.”

 

“Even Mexican jumping beans finally lose their strength, and yours is wavering even now.  With what little you have left, the BWF sees fit to finally line us up in a match against each other.  Our parallel paths finally take a turn, and on Havok we come to a crossroad.  What was it you said to me?  Beware of the Rob-K-O or something to that effect?  I’ll heed your advice, only enough to make sure you don’t sneak it in on me.  After what I went though last night, however, your Rob-K-O seems pale in comparison… in return, perhaps you should watch out that you don’t get your jaw broken from out of left field when I kick your teeth down your throat, okay?”

 

“I got to ask, though, what was up with your PPV promos?  You’re a strange man, Torby, but you were so intent on trying to be funny, which you failed at by the way, that you barely said anything solid to dispute your opponents.  They wanted this more then you, and Cade, well, he just wanted it a little more then Kirlia.  You got your promised rematch, and stumbled, and come Havok, kiddo, you won’t be able to catch yourself in time before I Rupture the rest of your career, GOT IT?”

 

Taking a deep breath, his energy completely drained, Chamelion feels compelled to leave it at that.  He just wants to sleep, there’s nothing left in his body to do jack-shit, and the ceiling looks very pretty anyway.  Then, there’s the knock on the door as his food arrives and Chamelion jumps up eagerly.  He pauses, and smirks sheepishly.

 

“I’m HUNGRY!”

 

And we leave him to his dinner.

 

Fade.