The scene opens up to the backstage locker room at the Galaxy Arena: home of SUPER NOVA. The SNGW Universal Champion Alastair Anarion is seated on one of the benches. He appears focused, yet concerned as he prepares for his first title defense in quite a while against The Anomaly.
Passing by him is Zachariah Zealot in what seems to be the same train of thought. He appears dressed down in street clothes and lays down his gear bag right beside Alastair on the bench.
The sudden placement of the bag seemingly breaks Alastair from his focus as he raises his head to a welcome sight in one of his trusted allies.
Alastair Anarion: Zealot, my friend. It’s been a long time since I last seen you here. Welcome back!
Zachariah Zealot: (opens locker to store belongings) As much as I would like to say the feeling is mutual, I’m not necessarily in the friendly mood right now. I hope you understand.
Alastair: I’m actually struggling to find out if it is because of this deathmatch you are partaking in later on tonight or if it’s because you are still silently brooding on your unfortunate defeat to Riggs at that FPCPP show that finally happened.
Zealot shuts the locker firmly and smirks ever so slightly at the statement.
Zealot: I must admit the finality of that feud was bittersweet, but I wouldn’t be much of a crusader if I didn’t keep on crusading.
Alastair: Regardless, I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t feel concerned. We’re both in quite the disadvantageous situation here.
Zealot: Agreed. As much as I would like to argue, that Anomaly fellow does own the place. At least my team and that foolish Damnation church cult are surrounded by barbed wire. It will be hard to interfere in that one.
Alastair: So does that mean I can still trust you to help out in case those other members of the Complex interfere in my title match.
Zealot kneels down and puts his hand on Alastair’s shoulder.
Zealot: I promise, Alastair. It will take more than this to hold me back.
Alastair: I’m relieved to hear it. With all the attacks by The Complex, there’s not many people left to turn to. Best of luck.
Alastair gets up and makes his way out of the locker room and down to the arena to prepare. Zealot smiles as he makes his departure
With Alastair out of the picture, the expression slowly turns into one of concern. Zealot goes back to his locker to retrieve a smartphone with a simple leather cover featuring a cross.
He dials a number and engages in a conversation.
Zealot: Hey there. Just wanted to go over the objective once more.
…
Yeah. Just ready to get this all over with. This is it, isn’t it? I grow weary of the countless battles.
…
And that’s it, correct?
…
Okay. I’ll take your word for it. We’ll speak later.
Zealot ends the call, take a breath, and lets off a huge sigh. He walks out of the locker room as the scene concludes.
Passing by him is Zachariah Zealot in what seems to be the same train of thought. He appears dressed down in street clothes and lays down his gear bag right beside Alastair on the bench.
The sudden placement of the bag seemingly breaks Alastair from his focus as he raises his head to a welcome sight in one of his trusted allies.
Alastair Anarion: Zealot, my friend. It’s been a long time since I last seen you here. Welcome back!
Zachariah Zealot: (opens locker to store belongings) As much as I would like to say the feeling is mutual, I’m not necessarily in the friendly mood right now. I hope you understand.
Alastair: I’m actually struggling to find out if it is because of this deathmatch you are partaking in later on tonight or if it’s because you are still silently brooding on your unfortunate defeat to Riggs at that FPCPP show that finally happened.
Zealot shuts the locker firmly and smirks ever so slightly at the statement.
Zealot: I must admit the finality of that feud was bittersweet, but I wouldn’t be much of a crusader if I didn’t keep on crusading.
Alastair: Regardless, I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t feel concerned. We’re both in quite the disadvantageous situation here.
Zealot: Agreed. As much as I would like to argue, that Anomaly fellow does own the place. At least my team and that foolish Damnation church cult are surrounded by barbed wire. It will be hard to interfere in that one.
Alastair: So does that mean I can still trust you to help out in case those other members of the Complex interfere in my title match.
Zealot kneels down and puts his hand on Alastair’s shoulder.
Zealot: I promise, Alastair. It will take more than this to hold me back.
Alastair: I’m relieved to hear it. With all the attacks by The Complex, there’s not many people left to turn to. Best of luck.
Alastair gets up and makes his way out of the locker room and down to the arena to prepare. Zealot smiles as he makes his departure
With Alastair out of the picture, the expression slowly turns into one of concern. Zealot goes back to his locker to retrieve a smartphone with a simple leather cover featuring a cross.
He dials a number and engages in a conversation.
Zealot: Hey there. Just wanted to go over the objective once more.
…
Yeah. Just ready to get this all over with. This is it, isn’t it? I grow weary of the countless battles.
…
And that’s it, correct?
…
Okay. I’ll take your word for it. We’ll speak later.
Zealot ends the call, take a breath, and lets off a huge sigh. He walks out of the locker room as the scene concludes.