Instinct.

Well look who decided to show up.

Like daddy finally coming back with the milk and cigarettes, it’s Michael Lee Best!

It’s a Christmas miracle, and I’m watching a Frosty the Snowman resurrection thanks to a cold front blowing in from the North Pole.

You’re a hard man to reach.

I was this damn close to storming into Ten-X and dealing with whatever “top-tier” staff you have working there, just to get an answer from you…hell, just to see if you were around.

But you know what I decided instead, Mike?

To move on.

I was ready to pivot, to be flexible and hope to GOD himself that I’d find something to do come ICONIC…and just as I reached the end of my rope, you finally responded.

You made your speech, trying to talk me down even as you finally accepted my challenge, and you even went so far as to put the HOFC Championship on the line one last time.

You rang the bell, and got me just about salivating like Pavlov’s dog…you bastard.

Because you’re right about one thing…losing to you in HOFC, twice, has been a pain deep in my soul that I haven’t been able to relieve.

I was so angry, so hurt by that second loss especially, that I just about threw everything out and walked the hell away…but I didn’t.

Because deep down, I am a Fighter…and I don’t give up that easily.

Fifteen years of doing what I do in this business don’t get flushed down the toilet after a year of struggling in one company…not even by your hand, Mr. Son of GOD.

Men and women with better win-loss records have left High Octane Wrestling, but I remain. People that have beaten you have quit the promotion, for one reason or another…but not me.

Not ol’ Xander Azula.

Whereas other people tuck their tail between their legs and run off, I got to planning…to plotting…to scheming my revenge.

I knew what needed to be done the moment I put pen to paper on my new HOW contract…so I asked for three HOFC fights.

People looked at me like I was crazy…they all told me the same thing you did just a few days ago inside the Best Arena.

“HOFC is dead, Xander.”

The hell it is, Mike.

It takes a different breed to get into that cage and do what we do. You already know this, but it has to be spelled out anyway.

HOFC ain’t for everyone.

Scott Stevens pointed that out to me, but it didn’t matter. I knew what I had to do, what I’ve always had to do.

I had to walk the unsanctioned path.

A path that started with Kostoff. He was a warning shot that rang hollow in a time of war…but my focus was never on the conflict between Lee Best, his Board, and the Highwaymen.

It was always set on the path of violence I would need to carve out for myself. I stripped away all the things that were unimportant, and went back to basics both in training and state of mind.

Underneath all the spooky cult nonsense, setting aside trips through the multiverse, I am at my very core driven by one simple instinct.

To endure.

That’s why I didn’t quit after you beat me…I’m just too damn stubborn.

That’s why I stuck to my plan throughout the past several months, following it to the letter.

Taking out Brian Hollywood and Scott Stevens was always meant to get your attention.

Hell, even my trip to Las Vegas and the Sanctioned Violence Organization was a calling card to you, Mr. First-Ever sVo Champion…that’s how deep the obsession goes.

I guess you’ve figured out by now why I took out Kyle McRae before that fight ever got going at Rumble at the Rock…why would I waste my last HOFC fight on an outsider?

HOFC ain’t for everyone.

It always had to be you.

I may not be a jack of all trades, but I am a master of one.

And now, with the tools at the ready, I’ve come back to that gilded cage…ready to go to work.

I’m glad I’m facing a God of War, Mr. CEO…I wouldn’t want anything less than your absolute best.

Because tearing it all down is gonna be sweeter for it.

Looking forward to your deflection tactic of asking me if this is “the best I’ve got,” Mike…because I’m just getting started.

And you won’t like the ending.