The main event had been hyped up all week long.
Former champion versus current champion.
Mason Brooks taking on Eddie Prince.
As soon as Noah announced their names, the arena went wild.
Eddie was the first to make his entrance, the championship belt draped over his shoulder. Unlike a few months back (at the start), the crowd's reaction was a mixed bag. Sure, there were still some boos, but now you could hear cheers cutting through the noise.
People had come to respect him.
They might not be his biggest fans, but they respected him.
Eddie climbed into the ring, raising the championship high above his head before passing it to the referee.
Then, Mason Brooks' music blared through the speakers.
The crowd went absolutely nuts.
Mason stepped onto the stage, looking every bit the former champion who had never lost his title in the ring. His arm was healed, and his confidence was back.
And judging by the crowd's reaction, they had definitely missed him.
Noah couldn't help but smile.
"Listen to this crowd," he said.
"They've been waiting months for this," Irvin chimed in.
Mason entered the ring and immediately locked eyes with Eddie.
The two men held their gaze, even as the referee went over the rules.
Then the bell rang.
The opening minutes were surprisingly technical.
Neither man wanted to make the first mistake.
Mason tried to use his strength to overpower Eddie, while Eddie relied on his agility and speed to dodge being caught. Every time Mason managed to grab him, Eddie slipped away just in time, avoiding the bigger man's control.
The audience was really into the chess match.
Eddie landed the first big hit of the contest with a sharp forearm that snapped Mason's head back.
The former champion quickly fired back with a strike of his own.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Before long, the two were trading punches right in the middle of the ring.
Neither man was willing to back down.
Neither was giving an inch.
Eventually, Mason took control and pushed Eddie into the corner. A flurry of shoulder strikes to the midsection forced the champion to cover up.
The referee tried to step in and break it up.
Mason ignored him until the count hit four.
That's when Eddie seized the opportunity.
As soon as Mason stepped back, Eddie drove a knee into his stomach, then bounced off the ropes and hit him with a clothesline that sent Mason crashing to the mat.
The crowd went wild.
Eddie quickly went for the pin.
One.
Two.
Mason kicked out.
The champion kept the pressure on.
For the next few minutes, Eddie dominated much of the match. He focused on Mason's previously injured arm, putting the bigger wrestler in tough spots over and over.
Even Noah at the commentary table sounded impressed.
"Eddie is wrestling like a true champion tonight."
"He knows exactly where to strike," Irvin chimed in.
The crowd could feel an upset brewing.
More than once, Eddie came close.
A running clothesline got him a two-count.
A spinebuster earned him another.
Eddie had already thrown everything he had at Mason Brooks.
The Prince Bomb had landed perfectly.
The crowd was counting along with the referee, convinced the match was done.
"One! Two! Th- Mason kicks out!"
Eddie stayed on his knees for a few seconds, staring at the former champion in disbelief. He ran his hands through his hair and looked at the referee, as if to ask whether the count had really only reached two.
Noah was just as shocked on commentary.
"I can't believe what more Eddie Prince can do! He hit the Prince Bomb clean! And he didn't botch it this time!"
Irvin shook his head.
"Mason Brooks is fighting like a man possessed tonight."
The champion slowly got back to his feet. Sweat dripped from his face, and his chest heaved with each breath. He glanced down at Mason before looking toward the nearest turnbuckle. An idea sparked in his mind.
The crowd felt the shift immediately.
Eddie started to climb.
One rope. Then another.
Before long, he was standing on top of the turnbuckle with twenty thousand eyes on him.
Noah's voice rose with excitement.
"Eddie's taking a huge risk!"
The champion spread his arms slightly to balance himself. Mason was still down on the canvas. The chance was there.
Eddie leaped.
The crowd jumped to their feet.
At the very last moment, Mason rolled away.
A collective gasp swept through the arena.
Eddie crashed hard onto the mat. The impact reverberated throughout the building. He immediately clutched his stomach and ribs, the air knocked out of him. The pain was clear on his face.
Mason wasn't in much better shape.
The former champion slowly pulled himself up using the ropes. Every movement looked agonizing. His injured arm had held up throughout the match, but the toll from Eddie's punishment was clearly starting to show.
For a few moments, neither man moved a muscle.
The crowd was on its feet, buzzing with anticipation.
No one wanted to miss what was about to unfold.
Eddie was the first to make a move. He staggered forward, clutching his midsection. Unfortunately for him, Mason was already poised for action.
As soon as Eddie turned around, Mason unleashed a brutal kick right into his stomach.
Eddie doubled over instantly.
Noah nearly leaped out of his chair.
"Oh no," he gasped.
The crowd quickly caught on to what was happening.
Mason seized Eddie by the head.
Then he leaped into the air.
The arena erupted as Eddie's face slammed into the canvas.
"Brooks Law!"
The impact was undeniable.
Mason swiftly rolled over onto the champion and hooked his leg. The referee dropped down to count.
One.
Two.
Three.
The bell rang.
The crowd exploded with deafening cheers.
Mason rolled off Eddie and lay flat on the mat, utterly spent. Across from him, Eddie stared up at the ceiling, frustration etched on his face.
He had come so close, closer than most had against Mason Brooks.
But close wasn't enough.
Noah pointed toward the ring, excitement in his voice.
"The former champion just pinned the current champion!"
Irvin nodded in agreement.
"And if Mason was eyeing a title shot before tonight, he just made a strong case for it."
The referee helped Mason to his feet and raised his arm in victory. The crowd responded with another thunderous ovation.
Meanwhile, Eddie sat against the ropes, clutching the championship belt that had been returned to him. His expression was a mix of emotions. He was still the champion, but tonight had revealed something crucial.
Mason Brooks was back.
And he was gunning for his title.
----
Almost thirty minutes after the show wrapped up, the vibe backstage had shifted dramatically.
The locker room was buzzing with news of Cal Bishop's firing.
It was a mystery how the word spread so fast, but by now, nearly everyone was in the loop.
The hallway outside Vince's office was crammed with people.
Wrestlers were packed in tight, filling almost the entire corridor. There were no punches being thrown, no one was yelling, but the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Cal Bishop stood at the heart of the crowd, the termination letter still crumpled in his hand. His face had drained of color. Earlier, he had been pleading his case; now, he just looked furious.
Behind him, a surprising number of wrestlers had gathered.
The Road Warriors were present.
So were the Steel Titans.
A few other wrestlers had joined the mix. Even some of the veterans were there, standing in solidarity.
Not everyone was on board with Cal's choices. Most recognized he had messed up.
What they were really upset about was the severity of the punishment.
Lance Dawson was caught in the middle, trying hard to keep things from boiling over.
"Everyone, just take a breath," he urged.
But his words fell on deaf ears.
Mark Rivera tried to step in, "We can talk this out tomorrow."
That didn't help much.
The wrestlers stayed put, unmoving.
Across from them stood Vince.
His face was calm, even in the chaos.
Victor Cross was right beside him.
Unlike Lance and Mark, Victor looked ready for a fight. His arms were crossed, and he was staring down the wrestlers who were challenging Vince.
The message was clear.
If anyone wanted to stir up trouble, Victor was more than ready to finish it.
Not everyone had picked a side.
Mason Brooks leaned quietly against a nearby wall, arms crossed, taking in the scene. Diego Cortez stood next to him, silently observing everything unfold. Grant Austin's discomfort grew with each passing moment of the standoff, while Andre seemed more captivated by the unfolding drama than eager to get involved.
The ruckus had drawn in a few members of the women's division as well.
Maya Hart lingered at the back of the crowd. Tracey Prince was right beside her.
Nina Clarkson and Torrie Wilson were also there.
No one seemed quite sure how this would all play out.
Finally, Gus, the head trainer, stepped forward.
Unlike most of the wrestlers, he wasn't angry. He just looked disappointed.
"Vince."
The owner turned to face him.
Gus chose his words carefully, "Nobody's saying Cal was right."
A few wrestlers nodded in agreement.
"He messed up. Everyone knows that."
The veteran trainer took a moment before continuing, "But firing him?"
He shook his head slowly. "That's going too far."
The hallway fell silent.
Every eye was now on Vince.