The Viper's Offer
The camera opened not in the ring, not backstage — but in a dim-lit, empty arena. The seats were empty, the ring silent. And standing dead center of it all was Randy Orton.
Hands in his pockets. Calm. Calculated. Dangerous.
He didn't need a mic. His voice echoed through the silence.
"I've been in this business a long time. Long enough to know when something is changing. When the air shifts. When the blood in the water draws sharks."
He looked directly into the camera.
"And Jaxon Cross? You're bleeding."
He stepped forward slowly.
"You think you've got it figured out? You've got soldiers, sure. You've got anger. Pain. Fire. But I've seen fire burn out faster than a flashbulb. I've watched 'revolutionaries' get buried under the very kingdom they tried to topple."
He smirked.
"But… I've also seen kings fall. I've helped bury a few myself."
Randy pulled something from his jacket — a deck of cards. He flicked one out toward the camera.
The Joker.
"I'm not here to take sides. Not yet. I'm here to watch the battlefield… and choose the winning one."
He turned and walked away, his voice trailing behind him like smoke.
"Just remember, Jaxon — serpents don't serve kings… or outlaws."
---
Fractures in the Kingdom
Backstage, Seth Rollins was livid.
Judgment Day's locker room had turned into a war room. Finn Bálor leaned against a table, arms crossed, quietly observing while Damian Priest paced. Seth's usual calm was gone — his white suit jacket hung discarded on a chair, and his hair was slicked back in haste.
"Who gave him air time?" Seth barked, pointing at the screen. "Randy Orton doesn't just appear. Somebody let him in."
Priest finally stopped pacing. "You're letting him get in your head."
Seth spun around. "No, I'm keeping him out of the war we're already fighting. Orton doesn't pick sides — he poisons them. And if Jaxon's stupid enough to think Randy's here to help…"
Finn cut in quietly. "Maybe he's not stupid. Maybe he's just desperate."
Silence fell over the room.
And in that silence, doubt crept in like a slow fog.
---
A Reckoning in Motion
Meanwhile, Reckoning had arrived in full force.
Jaxon Cross stood at the head of a dimly lit locker room, his coat hung on the wall like a flag. Kai Maddox taped his wrists in methodical silence, Talon Creed leaned against the wall like a shadow, and Saint balanced on the back of a chair, bouncing a tennis ball against the locker.
There was no tension — only focus.
Jaxon held up a tablet with Seth's promo from earlier.
"He's panicking," Jaxon said. "You can hear it in his voice. We rattled the cage."
"Now we break the lock," Maddox said with a cold grin.
"Not yet," Jaxon replied. "We don't rush this. We make him feel every step coming before we take it."
He turned to Talon. "Tonight. You and me. Tag match. Let's make a statement."
Saint perked up. "Want me to cause a little chaos out there?"
Jaxon shook his head. "Not yet. But keep your wings sharp."
He looked at the group.
"We're not just fighting for pride anymore. We're fighting to rewrite the story they tried to write for us. No more kings. No more pawns. Just Outlaws."
---
Tag Team Carnage
In the second hour of RAW, Jaxon Cross and Talon Creed faced off against the team of Chad Gable and Ricochet — a match that looked technical on paper but quickly devolved into calculated brutality.
Talon tossed Ricochet like a rag doll. Jaxon wrestled like a man possessed — every move purposeful, every strike heavy.
The match ended when Jaxon caught Ricochet mid-air with a brutal midair crossbody reversal into a swinging DDT, then tagged Talon, who drove Gable into the mat with a thunderous powerbomb for the pin.
1-2-3.
But they didn't stop.
After the bell, Talon pulled Gable up — only for Jaxon to nail him with a chair shot across the spine.
The crowd gasped. Ricochet tried to intervene, but Saint came sprinting down the ramp, leaping onto the barricade and diving into the ring with a springboard spinning heel kick that took him out instantly.
Reckoning stood tall — and then turned their gaze to the camera.
Jaxon leaned over the ropes.
"Seth… next week, we bury your kingdom one brick at a time."
---
A Challenge Issued
Backstage, a shaken Cathy Kelley caught up with Seth Rollins.
"Jaxon Cross just laid out the challenge. Next week. One-on-one. You and him. What's your response?"
Seth didn't blink. His smile returned — cold, brittle.
"You tell Jaxon he's not worthy of a match with the King. Not yet. Let's see if his little soldiers can survive the fire first."
He turned to the camera.
"And Jaxon… when your walls fall, when your men scatter, I'll still be here. Because I'm not just the King."
He leaned closer.
"I'm the end of your fairy tale."
---
The Snake Strikes
Just as the show was about to fade out, a final scene cut in.
A dim hallway. A camera tilted at an odd angle.
Seth Rollins, alone, heading to his private car.
Then — an RKO out of nowhere.
Randy Orton stepped into frame, crouched low beside Seth's fallen body.
He looked into the lens.
"You wanted a kingdom, Seth?"
A pause. A grin.
"Careful where you build it. I don't need to pick a side…"
He stood.
"…when I can burn them both."
Fade to black.
---