Blessed.

When the ref raised my hand in victory three weeks ago, I had a single thought floating around in the back of my head:

“Mike Best had better be watching.”

I have been obsessed with making sure the champ was paying attention to me, as far back as the DeNucci Cup. Why, you might ask?

Because everywhere you look, your kingdom is falling apart.

You built yourself up to be the Son of GOD, but recent events have revealed more and more of your humanity.

Mike “I killed a man once” Best couldn’t kill Dan Ryan…he could barely beat him. He couldn’t even go that distance with Cancer Jiles, the man that now holds the World Championship.

My mind keeps coming back to your little speech the following week, Mike.

The way you kept insisting you weren’t running away from competition, but simply embracing the HOFC Division with your whole heart.

I call bullshit on that.

As far as I’m concerned, you’re only devoting this much time to it because it’s the only competition you can handle these days.

Holy shit, maybe Brian Hollywood was onto something…maybe you ARE tired.

Unlike him, I’m not banking on it.

After all, you’ve given yourself some time to heal up from all this hard work you’ve been putting in. Defending the World title, competiting in the DeNucci Cup, setting up your own training facility and school, even working the day to day for the company itself…that stuff is time-consuming, isn’t it?

It takes a toll on you. Physically, mentally, emotionally…and THAT is what I’m counting on.

Never mind tired, you’re distracted. Booking your trainees in HOFC fights to prove that your little side hustle has some value, and flat-out dismissing the man that’s gunning for your title and your crown.

Most people would call that cowardice, but I’m not most people.

There’s a word for someone like me. Steve Harrison couldn’t figure out what that word was, but maybe you will when we step inside that cage on the USS Octane.

Actually, fuck it, I’ll spell it out for you…B-L-E-S-S-E-D.

Blessed.

It’s a feeling very few know. The understanding that something, or someone, has given you favor and provided the tools necessary to do whatever you set your mind to.

Steve Harrison thought he was blessed, but I shut that down real damn quick. Same with Steve Solex…two of the Best Alliance’s finest, humbled by the right hand of Eris.

I am the Best Alliance Neutralizer of the HOFC, and the BAN Hammer is coming for the Son of GOD himself, who is keeping his distance from his own namesake.

Or so we’re led to believe.

I watched March To Glory, Mike. I know exactly what I saw.

That look you gave your father, whose blind eyes met yours. I recognized that moment instantly.

Your father still cares for you. So much so that somehow, SOMEWAY, a Hall of Fame ring suddenly appeared inside that cage, giving you just enough of an edge to topple Dan Ryan.

It made me sick.

Not the dastardly method of securing the DeNucci Cup and the HOFC title, oh no…I applaud your ingenuity.

I’m just sick of seeing this bullshit family drama play out. It’s grating on my damn nerves, even more than you constantly getting my name wrong.

We get it Mike, the name looks funny. Hope you gave the toddler you stole that from something for their trouble.

Hell, you said it yourself…you didn’t necessarily want this match. Some bullshit excuse about wanting something new and fresh, as I recall.

That’s funny as hell coming from you, Mikey.

Same dumbass jokes, week after week. Same boring as hell structure, week after week.

And you can spare me the lecture on what kind of competition we’re in this time, Mike. I’ve let you talk yourself into this mess, now I’m in control.

I took out Steve Harrison faster than you can say “sensitivity training,” and reminded the world who the hell I am. I’d suggest you catch up on the lore, but knowing you that’ll just be another one-liner you’ll scribble down for later.

I put the Miracle Man out of his misery, and now the Son of GOD is in my sights…and I’m seeing gold.

Write that down too, Mike. Lord knows you could use material for your “I’m the rubber and you’re the glue” strategy you like to play.

Unfortunately for you, there is no rubber or glue where we’re heading…only cold, unforgiving steel.