Scene 1 – Burned and Breathing
The hotel suite was quiet when Jaxon Cross limped through the door.
The only sound was the soft click as he let the door fall shut behind him. His hoodie clung to his shoulders, soaked in a mixture of sweat and dried blood. A bandage wrapped loosely around his right arm, already stained red in spots. His boots tracked dust and grime across the hardwood floor.
He paused in the doorway for a long moment. The kind of stillness that follows chaos.
The kind of stillness that felt earned.
He stepped forward, wincing with each move, and dropped his duffle bag near the table. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed like someone who'd just finished climbing out of a burning building.
It was over.
The barbed wire cage. The blood. The match.
Kai had tested him, broken him, reminded him who he really was.
And now that the storm had passed… all Jaxon could feel was the weight of silence.
Until a knock.
Three soft raps on the hotel door.
He hesitated — not in fear, but uncertainty.
Then stood.
The door opened.
And there she was.
Stephanie McMahon.
Dressed in simple jeans, a fitted black coat, her hair pulled back in a loose braid. No makeup, no entourage. Just her.
Jaxon blinked, his breath catching for a second before he stepped aside silently to let her in.
She stepped inside without saying a word, her eyes scanning him like someone checking for bruises you couldn't see.
"You look like hell," she said softly, closing the door behind her.
Jaxon exhaled through his nose and collapsed back onto the bed with a grunt. "Feels about right."
Stephanie moved quietly, setting her purse on the chair, then disappearing into the bathroom. When she returned, she carried a small first-aid kit. She knelt beside him, gently unwrapping the soaked bandage on his arm.
He winced as the gauze peeled back. "You're gonna yell at me?"
"No," she said. "You already know what I'd say."
They sat in silence while she worked — cleaning the wound, applying new gauze, then rewrapping it tighter. Her touch was gentle, practiced.
"I saw the match," she murmured.
"I figured."
"You earned his respect," she added, tying the wrap.
He was quiet for a moment.
"I lost a part of myself in that ring."
She met his eyes. "Or maybe you found the part you buried."
Jaxon swallowed hard, staring at the floor. "You ever build something with everything you've got — blood, time, soul — and then feel like the second it's real, it starts slipping through your hands?"
She nodded. "WWE. My family. My father. Every day."
He looked up at her.
Stephanie shifted closer, now sitting beside him on the bed. "But the trick isn't building something indestructible," she said. "It's knowing when to let go… and when to rebuild."
Jaxon leaned back slightly, hands trembling without him realizing it. "I don't know if I can rebuild again."
"Yes," she said softly. "You can."
He turned to her.
Their eyes locked.
"You never gave up on me," he said. "Even when I deserved it."
Stephanie smiled faintly. "That's because I knew the real you — before Reckoning. Before the war. Before the blood."
Her hand slid to his cheek.
"You think I don't remember what it was like when it was just us — late-night arenas, coffee at 2 a.m., planning your debut?"
His voice cracked. "I remember everything."
They didn't kiss. Not yet.
But they didn't need to.
Because in that moment, something between them reconnected — not as business, not as war, not as obligation.
As love.
Quiet. Earned. Surviving.
---
Scene 2 – The Wolf and the Crew
Backstage at the arena the next morning, Kai Maddox walked through the empty halls with a purpose. His hoodie was zipped high, his pace steady, the cut above his brow neatly stitched. The night before had been brutal, but necessary.
In a quiet locker room, Talon Creed and Saint were already waiting.
Saint had a tension in his shoulders — the kind that comes from weeks of fighting people you once trusted. Talon, as always, was unreadable.
Kai stepped in, then leaned against the wall.
Silence reigned.
Finally, Saint said, "You good?"
Kai nodded once. "Better than I was."
Talon tilted his head. "You still think he's gone?"
Kai hesitated.
"No. He came back in that ring."
He looked down at his palms. "But now we find out if he stays."
---
Scene 3 – Reignition
At the end of the night's show, Jaxon Cross made his entrance — no pyro, no music.
Just him.
He stood in the center of the ring, a single spotlight on him, mic in hand.
"I don't know what to say to you," he started.
The crowd was quiet, listening.
"To the fans, to Reckoning, to anyone who bled beside me… I lost the plot for a while."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"I thought leading meant doing everything myself. I thought protecting you meant keeping you out of the fire."
He looked straight into the camera.
"But I forgot what Reckoning was about."
A beat.
"We don't run from the fire. We walk through it together."
The crowd popped.
The camera cut backstage — Kai, Saint, and Talon watching from the monitor.
Jaxon continued.
"So if you're ready…"
He set the mic down.
"…I'm ready to start again."
The lights cut to black.
Then — a spotlight hit the ramp.
Kai. Saint. Talon.
They walked down together.
Stepped into the ring.
Faced him.
A long pause.
Then —
Kai stepped forward.
Offered his hand.
Jaxon looked at it.
Then clasped it tight.
The crowd exploded.
Reckoning was reborn.
---
Scene 4 – The Predator Watches
Later that night, backstage in a dark, mostly empty production suite, Randy Orton sat in the shadows.
One foot propped up on a table. The other hand flipping through a deck of playing cards.
The Joker card appeared again.
He stared at it.
Then at the screen — frozen on the image of Jaxon shaking hands with Kai.
His smirk was slow. Subtle.
"I gave them a war," he whispered. "Now I'll give them a reason to start another."
He flicked the Joker card at the monitor.
It landed against Jaxon's face.
Fade to black.
---