Your Fate will be sealed in this SUTTER thread

[The Assassin]

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December 25th, 2025
Birmingham, England
Off Camera
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Clyde Sutter may appear to be a stoic, cold hearted, emotionless asshole on the outside; but to say that he doesn’t have feelings or that he doesn’t care about anyone is most definitely wrong. The Harbinger of Fate most definitely cares; he cares a great deal for his beloved Melinda Braddock. He would quite literally do anything she asked of him. He is almost as loyal to Melinda’s adopted sister Fiona Logan, but not quite. Only Melinda and Melinda alone holds the soul of The Assassin in the palm of her hand. Sutter is fiercely loyal to the sisters, to the duo known as The Vision. Therefore Sutter feels bad that they failed in their quest to become SCW World Tag Team Champions at Shattered Reality. Despite what many may think, The Harbinger of Fate is disappointed in himself; he is disappointed that he did not fulfill his promise to end Shaun Cruze’s return before it even got under way. Sutter may be a disciple of Fate, he may believe strongly in Fate, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about the spotlight, winning gold, and earning money.

Still, Fate has told him to be patient and wait, that his time will come; and that time might very well be coming sooner than expected. Fatal Fortunes is next on the list and that event is the one event on the SCW calendar that Sutter likes more than anything else. Fatal Fortunes relies heavily on Fate. No one truly controls their destiny, Fate controls their destiny, and on these two nights no one can deny otherwise. The Assassin, being an ally of Fate and disciple of Fate, believes that this event will favor him over the others. Fate may very well use Fatal Fortunes to reward not only Clyde Sutter but The Vision as well for their fierce loyalty to the cause and for their belief.

He certainly hopes so, because things have not been well in The Vision camp lately. Sutter can feel the tension and it isn’t just from the losses at Shattered Reality. Fiona Logan is being stalked by her abusive former foster father. Sutter and beloved Melinda hated leaving Fiona behind in Miami with Todd Osbourne on the loose but they know she is safe in the care of Glory Braddock and Kurt Logan. Besides, Clyde has issues of his own to deal with; namely his sister, Lilith Sutter, issues that require his presence in England.

The house sat quietly along a narrow Birmingham street, one of many modest homes pressed shoulder to shoulder in a neat row, its brick exterior darkened slightly by years of rain and city air. There was nothing about it that demanded attention, and that was part of its charm. A small front window glowed softly from within, curtains drawn just enough to let the light spill onto the pavement outside. The evening was cool, carrying the distant sounds of traffic and the occasional echo of footsteps, reminders that the city was still awake even as this particular home retreated inward. Inside, the warmth was immediate. The living room was compact but comfortable, shaped by practicality rather than excess. The furniture did not match in any deliberate way, but everything felt chosen with care and kept with intention. A well worn sofa faced a simple television stand, and a low coffee table bore the quiet evidence of daily life. A few framed photographs lined the walls, moments captured from different chapters of their lives, blending past and present into a single shared space. The lighting was gentle and unassuming, coming from a single lamp that cast soft shadows across the room.

Melinda Braddock moved easily through the space, as though the house responded to her presence. She was dressed in a feminine outfit that felt almost poetic in its contrast to the humble setting. A soft, flowing skirt fell to just below her knees, the fabric light and elegant, swaying subtly with each step she took. The color was refined without being loud, a shade that complemented her almost platinum blonde hair and fair complexion. Her top was fitted and graceful, tucked neatly into the waistband of the skirt, its fabric smooth and delicate. The neckline was modest but flattering, emphasizing her posture and the natural elegance she carried even in quiet moments. Her shoes were simple yet refined, low heeled and practical enough for the home, but still undeniably feminine. They made only the faintest sound against the floor as she moved. A delicate necklace rested at her collarbone, catching the lamplight in brief flashes, and small earrings framed her face without drawing attention away from it. Her hair was styled softly, not rigid or overdone, falling neatly around her shoulders in a way that felt natural rather than staged. The overall effect was one of effortless grace, as though she had dressed not to impress an audience but simply to be herself.

Clyde Sutter, by contrast, looked as though he had shed every layer of performance the moment he crossed the threshold. He was dressed down to the bare essentials, his clothing chosen entirely for comfort. A loose, worn t shirt clung lightly to his frame, the fabric softened by countless washes. The sleeves hung casually against his arms, and the collar sat slightly stretched, a testament to familiarity rather than neglect. He wore a pair of relaxed sweatpants, dark and unassuming, sitting low on his hips, and his feet were bare against the floor. His long black hair was pulled back loosely, not with any particular care, strands escaping to frame his face. There was no trace of the imposing presence he carried in arenas, no calculated posture or intensity. Here, his shoulders were relaxed, his movements unguarded. He looked at ease in a way that only came from being completely at home, both in the space and with the person beside him.

The house itself reflected their shared life in subtle ways. A folded blanket rested over the arm of the sofa, suggesting evenings spent together in quiet comfort. A mug sat forgotten on the coffee table, its contents long gone cold. The air carried a faint mix of familiar scents, clean laundry, brewed tea, and something warm that lingered from earlier cooking. Outside, the city pressed close, but inside, the walls held firm, creating a small pocket of calm.

“You know, while we are here in England, we could train at my grandfather’s wrestling school.” Melinda says cheerfully.

“You do recall that the the trainers are not all that fond of me, do you not?”

“Of course but you are about to be family.” Melinda winks playfully. “My future husband. You get the family perks. Besides, we DO have Fatal Fortunes coming up, and my grandfather always knew the craziest, wildest, most inventive of ways to prepare for any and every scenario. The staff at the Braddock Wrestling School has kept up that tradition.”

“As well they should.” Clyde remarks. “Fatal Fortunes will bring about chaos to the roster, chaos because they are all taught to anticipate, to prepare, to believe that they are in control. When Fate takes away their control they descend into anarchy. But you and I, we already KNOW that Fate is in control. We are loyal to Fate and that chaos will have no affect on us.”

“You sound confident.”

“I am confident because I trust in Fate.” Sutter states boldly. “Regardless of what may have happened in the past, at Shattered Reality, our opportunity to take the next big step in SCW is right here and right now with Fatal Fortunes. This should be OUR event, my love. No one should be able to stop us at Fatal Fortunes.”

“You make it sound too easy.” Melinda runs her hand across his strong, chiseled chest. “We will not know what Fate has in store for us, either.”

“Correct, but I still trust in Fate, and that is what Fatal Fortunes is built upon…Fate. Fatal Fortunes was created in order to remind the arrogant stars of SCW that FATE is in control of their destinies.”

“I just hope Fate will reward us.” Melinda states. “I think you and I both deserve some gold. You know what I mean?”

“You deserve all of the gold in the world, my love.” Clyde says sweetly. “I hope you do get the title match you want. However, if you do not, and if I am lucky enough to get a title match, I promise you that I will win it FOR YOU and I will gift it TO YOU.” Sutter’s eyes are intense. “I mean it.”

“Thanks, babe, but you shouldn’t just ignore yourself.” Melinda smirks. “I wouldn’t mind marrying a SCW Champion.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Clyde smiles warmly. “And I am certain that Fate will fall in OUR direction these two nights of Fatal Fortunes.”

“I hope so, but my point stands, trying to prepare for anything and everything we can possibly prepare for wouldn’t hurt.” Melinda remarks. “And my grandfather’s school isn’t that far away.”

“Fair enough.” Clyde nods his head. “Just remember, my beloved, we are not here because of Fatal Fortunes. We are not even here to tour my old stomping grounds or your old home. We are here for other, graver, more serious business.”

“Lilith.”

The name comes across Melinda’s lips as if it were a plague. Lately she has been a plague. She is Clyde’s sister and harassed him for months trying to get him to join her criminal empire. Clyde and Melinda thought she was gone but she still stalked him, secretly and covertly. Now Lilith has made a full blown return and wants to speak with Clyde. He is suspicious, of course, despite her offer of peace and goodwill. She claims that she is not in the criminal business anymore, that her operations are completely legitimate. Melinda does not think seeing Lilith is a good idea but Clyde fears that she will not go away unless he listens to what she has to say.

“I know you feel strongly about her…”

“She called me a whore.” Melinda snaps back. “Not to mention she is a criminal.”

“Is…was…we are not sure. She claims she is legitimate.” Sutter sighs as he digs through his pockets. “Although that did remind me…” he produces a small box. He passes it over to Melinda. She opens it up and it contains a huge diamond.

“Oh my God…” Melinda’s voice trails off “...Clyde, how did you…”

“I didn’t.” He shakes his head. “That was a gift from Lilith. She insisted that you take it. She wanted you to consider it a peace offering for the nasty things she has said about you.”

“So she’s trying to buy me off?” Melinda frowns.

“I honestly have no idea, my love.”

“For God’s sake, Clyde, she is YOUR sister!” Melinda exclaims. “How could you NOT know your own sister?”

“That’s the only reason I am even considering her offer…” his voice trails off. Melinda’s eyes grow wide with shock.

“You cannot be seriously considering working with her?”

“No, not working with her.” He shakes his head. “But LISTENING to what she has to say? Yes, I am considering it.”

“Why?!” Melinda asks. “She’s dangerous!”

“She is family.” Sutter says stoically. “She is my only connection to a past that I know very little about.”

The Assassin’s rough exterior begins to show cracks, signs of real emotion which are rare from this intimidating figure. Even Melinda is surprised. She watches him as he slowly walks past her and sits down on the sofa. Braddock approaches slowly and joins him on the sofa, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“It’s ok…you can talk to me…” she says gently with compassion in her voice.

“All I know for a fact about my father is that his name was Ethan. Ethan Sutter. Everything else I have heard is all hearsay. It is all talk and rumor. I heard that he was a common criminal. I heard he was a drug user. I heard he was a cult leader. Then again I also heard he was just part of some strange Christian sect.”

“You know your mother.” Melinda remarks. “Autumn Van Stanton.”

“Yes, my mother.” Clyde chuckles. “That is the only other thing I know about my father. Whether he was acting on a cultish religious belief or if he was just an unfaithful bastard, he had no faith towards any one female. Lilith and I have different mothers due to our father sleeping around.” He turns towards Melinda, runs a strong hand through her long blonde hair. “I do not want to be like my father…but I do want to know ABOUT him. I want to know where I came from. Lilith may have the answers. She is the only way I can find any answers. Besides, she is my sister and I cannot change that.”

“You cannot pick your family, that is for sure.” Melinda sighs. “You’re going to see her whether I like it or not.”

“I would walk to hell and back for you, my love, but on this one occasion I must do something you will not like. I must visit my sister. I must hear what she has to say in hopes of learning about my past.”

“Very well…” Melinda nods her head “...you have my blessing.”

“Thank you.”

“Just be careful.”

Melinda Braddock hugs Clyde Sutter tightly. She is afraid for him, afraid of what he is getting himself into. Clyde himself is anxious, though he would never show it. He knows how dangerous his sister is; he knows what she is capable of. Still, he wants to know where he came from. He wants to know about his past, specifically about a father he never got to know. Lilith is the only possible connection he has, not to mention the fact that Lilith may never go away or leave them alone unless he at least listens to what she has to say. It may be dangerous but it is a risk The Assassin is willing to take.

[The Assassin]

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December 27th, 2025
London, England
Off Camera
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The restaurant existed in a world slightly removed from the city that surrounded it, tucked behind an unassuming entrance that gave little indication of what waited beyond its doors. Inside, London felt distant and muted, reduced to a soft presence that hummed somewhere outside thick walls and tall windows. The interior glowed with low golden light, carefully placed so that nothing was harsh and nothing was left in shadow. Polished wood and stone surfaces reflected just enough warmth to make the space feel intimate despite its size. The air carried the layered scents of fine cooking, wine, and subtle floral notes, all blending into something refined and comforting. Clyde Sutter sat at a private table set slightly apart from the rest of the dining room, positioned to offer seclusion without isolation. The table was dressed in crisp white linen, its surface arranged with precision. Fine glassware caught the light with every small movement, and silver cutlery rested in perfect alignment, unused and waiting. A single understated centerpiece sat between the place settings, elegant in its simplicity, adding to the sense that this was a space where nothing was accidental.

Clyde looked entirely different here than he did in the ring or even in the quiet of home. He was impeccably dressed, his clothing tailored to fit his well built frame with effortless sophistication. He wore a dark suit jacket that hugged his shoulders cleanly, the fabric rich and smooth to the touch. Beneath it, a crisp dress shirt sat neatly against his skin, the collar pressed and precise. The top buttons were fastened, giving him a composed, formal appearance that contrasted with the more relaxed versions of himself reserved for private life. His trousers matched the jacket perfectly, falling straight and sharp, breaking just at the top of polished dress shoes that reflected the ambient light beneath the table. His long black hair had been styled with care, pulled back neatly rather than left loose, keeping his face unobstructed and emphasizing the seriousness of the occasion. His posture was straight but not rigid, suggesting a man accustomed to discipline yet comfortable in environments that demanded restraint and polish. There was a quiet intensity about him, the kind that did not need volume or movement to assert itself. In this setting, his presence felt deliberate, controlled, and refined.

Across from him sat Lilith Sutter, his older sister, whose black hair framed her face with striking elegance. She carried herself with a natural authority that came not from force but from certainty. Her attire matched the exclusivity of the restaurant, sophisticated and flawless in execution. She wore a dress of deep, luxurious color, the fabric draping fluidly along her form. The cut was tasteful yet commanding, designed to accentuate her presence rather than simply her figure. The neckline was elegant and composed, revealing just enough to suggest confidence without excess. Her shoes were slender and refined, their heels adding height and poise to her already commanding stature. Jewelry adorned her sparingly but with intent. A statement piece rested at her neck, catching the light when she moved, and delicate earrings framed her face, their subtle shimmer drawing attention to her sharp features. Her makeup was immaculate, emphasizing her eyes and lips with precision, and her hair had been styled to perfection, smooth and glossy, every strand exactly where it belonged.

The private table created a sense of separation from the rest of the room, as though time moved differently there. Other diners spoke in hushed tones, their conversations blending into a soft murmur that never intruded. The gentle clink of glass and cutlery punctuated the air, adding to the rhythm of the space without disrupting its calm. Servers moved with practiced grace, their presence discreet, appearing only when needed and fading back into the background just as smoothly. Beyond the tall windows, the city lights of London glimmered faintly, blurred by the glass and the distance. The world outside felt busy and relentless, but within these walls, everything was measured and deliberate. The setting seemed designed for moments that carried weight, for conversations that mattered. At their table, Clyde and Lilith sat poised within this carefully curated atmosphere, two siblings bound by history and shared blood, now occupying a space that reflected success, restraint, and unspoken tension.

“You look well, dear brother.” Lilith says in a silky smooth tone of voice. “I hope you do not mind this establishment. It is one of my favorites, although I am aware that you prefer…simpler tastes.”

“Lilith, you should be grateful that I showed up.” Clyde remarks coldly.

“I am quite grateful for your presence, dear brother.”

“Then do not bother me with your pleasantries.” Sutter says impatiently. He holds up one finger. “I am giving you this one chance, this one opportunity, so you should not waste it by trying to butter me up because you know it will not work. Whatever you want to say to me, just say it.”

“Were you always in this foul mood?” Lilith chuckles.

“Only when my patience is tried.” He answers back. “And you ARE trying my patience.”

“Oh try to be happy, dear brother. We are having a happy reunion. Yes, I am grateful that you are open to a family reunion.”

“You are making quite the assumption.”

“Am I?” She smirks devilishly. “You are here. Alone. Without your beloved. That speaks volumes.” She sips her wine. “Speaking of Ms. Braddock, did she enjoy her gift?”

“She was taken aback that you would get her such an expensive gift.”

“It comes from the heart, believe me.” Lilith responds. “I genuinely want peace, I want to rekindle our relationship.”

“We never had a relationship.” Clyde points out coldly. “I never even knew you existed until a year ago.”

“All the more reason to get to know each other. All the more reason to HELP each other.”

“What can you offer that would possibly help me?”

“You would be surprised at how far my reach extends. It is a shame you were defeated by Shaun Cruze at Shattered Reality. That should not have happened. SCW management should recognize you as the star that you are and they definitely should not be bringing back some tired old relic from the past. Then there’s Fatal Fortunes.” She sighs and shakes her head. “It is a shame that SCW is letting luck decide what happens next for you.”

“You call it luck, I call it Fate.” Clyde states confidently. “And Fate will smile upon me at Fatal Fortunes. I promise you.”

“There you go again, your talk about fate.” Lilith chuckles. “You believe that Fate is in control and, perhaps you are right, but that doesn’t mean you and everyone else in that locker room are powerless to act. There are things you can do to improve your standing, dear brother, regardless of fate.” She motions to herself. “And I can help you with that.”

“I must admit that your resources would be invaluable to my cause.” Clyde answers reluctantly.

“Your time working with the Page family and with The Fall of Man proves that you are not above accepting money, despite your belief in fate.”

“Fate’s will CANNOT be stopped.” Sutter insists. “It can be delayed…”

“See? That is precisely what I am talking about. There are ways you can improve your standing. You have helped other people, why not do something to help yourself? Let ME help you.”

“I must admit that you make a good case, sister.” Clyde pauses and then shakes his head. “But I cannot just ignore what you have done.”

“William Heaven and the Page family have done horrible things and yet when it comes to your family you will not turn a blind eye?” Lilith snickers. “Honestly, brother, I am not here to do you any harm. I want to help you, your fiancee too. You are my family, she is about to become family, and I want to work with my family.”

“You say that and yet I still have my doubts.” Clyde answers back. “Tell me, just out of curiosity, what exactly is that you could give me that I do not already have from people like the Page family or from Mr. Heaven or anyone else I do work for?”

“I have something that they do not have, that they COULD NOT have…” Lilith leans in close, a wicked smile on her face “...I have answers about our past.”

“Our past?” This instantly brings Clyde to attention. He had told Melinda Braddock that he had agreed to see Lilith for this one reason, because he has questions about his past and Lilith is the only connection he has to his past. Lilith notices that she has got his attention and she nods her head.

“Yes, dear brother. I was once just as in the dark about our shared past as you but I now have answers. I am not asking you to do anything illegal. I am not asking you to do anything unethical. I just want a relationship with my brother.”

“That’s all?” Sutter seems skeptical. Lilith nods her head.

“Yes. In return you will learn about our father. You will learn about Ethan Sutter.”

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December 28th, 2025
London, England
On Camera
==========

London moved around The Assassin with its usual sense of purpose, the city alive but never frantic, as if it had long ago mastered the art of motion without chaos. The street was busy without being overwhelming, a steady flow of people and vehicles passing through a landscape shaped by centuries of history and modern polish. Stone facades rose on either side, their details softened by time, while newer buildings of glass and steel reflected the muted daylight in clean, confident lines. The sky above was overcast but bright, the kind of grey that softened shadows rather than darkened them, casting the city in an even, flattering light. Clyde Sutter stood out without appearing to try. He was dressed impeccably, every element of his appearance deliberate and refined. His suit was tailored to perfection, cut to complement his well built frame while maintaining a clean, elegant silhouette. The jacket sat smoothly across his shoulders, the fabric rich and finely woven, catching subtle variations of light as he moved. Beneath it, a crisp dress shirt lay pressed and immaculate, its collar sharp and precise against his neck. The color was classic and restrained, chosen to enhance the overall look rather than distract from it. His trousers fell straight and clean, breaking neatly at the top of polished dress shoes that gleamed softly against the pavement. The shoes themselves were clearly well cared for, their leather smooth and unscuffed, reflecting the world around them in muted flashes. A belt of matching quality cinched the outfit together, understated and elegant. Nothing about his attire was excessive, yet everything spoke of intention and self awareness. Clyde’s long black hair had been styled back neatly, away from his face, revealing strong features and a composed expression. There was a seriousness to him, not harsh or unapproachable, but thoughtful and controlled. His posture was upright and confident, shoulders relaxed yet squared, as though he were fully aware of both himself and his surroundings. Years of discipline showed in the way he stood and walked, a quiet physical confidence that did not need to be asserted.

The street itself offered a rich backdrop to his presence. Traditional storefronts sat beside modern boutiques, their windows displaying carefully arranged goods that hinted at luxury and taste. Black iron railings lined the edge of the pavement in places, separating pedestrians from small raised gardens or historic buildings. Buses passed by with a low hum, their red forms a familiar splash of color against the neutral tones of the city. Taxis wove through traffic with practiced ease, horns used sparingly, communication more implied than enforced. People moved past Clyde, some glancing at him briefly before continuing on, others too absorbed in their own routines to notice. He blended into the rhythm of the city while still commanding his own space within it. The faint sounds of conversation drifted through the air, accents overlapping and blending, a reminder of London’s vast and varied population. Somewhere nearby, the clatter of dishes from a café spilled onto the street, accompanied by the aroma of coffee and fresh bread. Despite the activity around him, there was a sense of stillness in the moment. Clyde appeared unhurried, existing comfortably within the space between motion and pause. The city did not rush him, and he did not rush it. This was London at its most composed, and he matched it perfectly, a figure of quiet confidence and impeccable presentation framed by one of the world’s most enduring cities.

“Fate is in control. I have said this for a very long time now. Everything that happens is because Fate has willed it to be not because myself or someone else happened to be superior on any given night. Fate rules us all, and sometimes we need a reminder of that. I LOST at Shattered Reality. It had nothing to do with lack of preparedness…I was ready for what the so-called Impact Player brought to the table. It had nothing to do with resolve on either of our parts. I was most definitely resolved to put an end to his egomaniacal, arrogant return before it even began. It certainly had nothing to do with my will faltering. I lost to Mr. Cruze at Shattered Reality because Fate allowed it.” The Harbinger of Fate smirks.

“People in this line of work…professional wrestling…they like to dress up defeat in excuses. The momentum shifted. Corrupt referees or corrupt management. Or simply they ran out of luck on that particular night.” Sutter shakes his head. “I do not believe in luck. I believe in inevitability. I believe that every step taken is already accounted for long before the bell ever rings. Mr. Cruze defeated me not because he was destined for a grand return in SCW. He beat me because Fate allowed it. He defeated me because it was part of Fate’s grand plan and I, like everyone else on this roster, am not above Fate. I am not above it, I am not beneath it, I am WITHIN IT. I am not exempt from Fate’s will. No one is exempt from Fate’s will.” He points a finger at the camera.

“NONE OF YOU are exempt from Fate’s will. Not even you, Mr. Cruze. So enjoy your victory now because Fate will remind you, just like it reminded me, and just like it will remind everyone else on the SCW Roster very soon, that Fate STILL is in control. That’s where I come in. When Fate speaks, I listen. When Fate moves, I follow. When Fate demands blood, I deliver it. I am The Assassin not because I enjoy the act, not because I crave chaos, but because Fate does NOT negotiate. Fate does not hesitate. Fate ends things when they are meant to end and I am Fate’s instrument. I make certain that things end the way Fate intends. Now Fate brings us to Fatal Fortunes.” The Assassin snickers knowingly. The faintest hint of something almost resembling a smile crosses his face.

“Do you recall the last time SCW hosted a Fatal Fortunes? On that night I made my return to this company. I had been exiled from the company for a long time until Fate saw fit to reward me with this second chance. I threw my hat into the ring for Fatal Fortunes and I gave then SCW Adrenaline Champion Glory Braddock the single worst beating she has ever had. Yes, she retained her title, but not without taking a trip to the hospital. I sent a message to the entire company that night that I had returned, not as someone’s monster, but as The Harbinger of Fate, deadlier than ever. Now it has returned and I am still here, still implementing Fate’s will. And the will for this year’s Fatal Fortunes will be the same…”

“Random opponents.”

“Random rules.”

“Every championship defended but the champion will not know who they are defending against.” The Assassin snickers knowingly.

“Some may see this is as chaos, as a mere spectacle designed to entertain the masses. Men and women trembling at the thought of surrendering control to Fate. They fear randomness because it strips them of the illusion that they are in charge.” He shakes his head. “I do not fear it. I embrace it. What SCW calls random I call revelation. Fatal Fortunes is not chaos, it is truth. It is Fate with its mask torn away. No politics. No favoritism. No careful planning to protect egos. Just Fate with its hand on the steering wheel.” He pats himself on his massive chest.

“This event was built for someone like me. Someone who does not need certainty. Someone who does not need comfort. Someone who understands that destiny does its best work when control is taken from human hands. I do not choose my victims. Fate does. I do not choose the rules. Fate does. I do not choose the prize. Fate does. And I will accept whatever it gives me. A champion. A legend. A rookie. A stipulation designed to cripple or humiliate. It makes no difference. The outcome will be the same. I will walk into that ring. I will listen. And I will act.” He straightens, posture unyielding.

“To everyone else in Fatal Fortunes, understand this. You are not unlucky. You are not being wronged. You are being summoned. If your name is drawn against mine, that is not coincidence. That is a sentence. I am The Harbinger of Fate. I do not promise victory. I promise inevitability. Whatever happens in that ring was always meant to happen the moment your name crossed paths with mine. And know this…YOUR Fate is SEALED.”