PV Oblivion 2025 PPV
📺 Live on the Sanctioned Violence Network
📍 Crimson Club Casino Arena, Atlantic City, NJ
📆 27th September 2025
The screen erupts in a visceral montage of violence and athleticism: the roar of the Atlantic City crowd, a steel chair shattering across a back, the triumphant snarl of a champion, all set to an aggressive hard rock soundtrack. The Project Violence logo flashes across the screen, a fist smashing a chain.
“PV OBLIVION 2025!” the announcer screams, as the camera flies over the packed Crimson Club Casino & Arena.
The lights hit the commentary table.
Zac Brindle: Good evening, and welcome to the biggest night in professional wrestling! I’m Zac Brindle, and alongside me is Johnny Kaos. Tonight, from Atlantic City, Project Violence delivers Oblivion—a card that will redefine this company.
Johnny Kaos: Define, destroy, and redefine, Brindle! Look at this crowd! They’re rabid! This is what the Sanctioned Violence group is all about: controlled chaos, and tonight, the gloves are off!
Zac Brindle: Tonight, championships are on the line, careers will be forged, and one brutal rivalry will be locked inside 15 feet of unforgiving steel.
The screen highlights the opening contest: Bernard Wolfe versus Gabriel Cross.
Johnny Kaos: We start off with the Wayward Traveller Bernard Wolfe taking on Gabriel Cross, the Celestial Crusader. Wolfe is pure independent wrestling high-spot athleticism, but Cross brings a religious zealotry that is just unsettling!
Zac Brindle: Wolfe’s American Strong Style, blending Puroresu and World of Sport, will be tested by Cross’s combination of high-impact moves and technical precision.
The graphic shifts to the Tag Team Championship match: Masters of the Mat (c) vs. Rebel Society.
Zac Brindle: The PV Tag Team Championships are up for grabs next. Masters of the Mat have been the top tag team in the federation, and tonight they face the Rebel Society.
Johnny Kaos: The Masters might be technical marvels, Brindle, but the Rebel Society are pure aggression! We’ll see if those titles are still around the Masters’ waists when this is over!
The PV TV Championship graphic appears: Midas (c) vs. Dutch Ramirez.
Zac Brindle: The PV TV Championship is traditionally a midcard belt for someone on the rise, and Midas is the current champion. But he faces a massive test in the form of Dutch Ramirez, The Outlaw.
Johnny Kaos: Midas is good, but Dutch is a pure powerhouse brawler, a man of principle who’ll fight for what’s right. If Midas doesn’t move fast, he’s going to get hit by a Highway Hammer!
The focus now turns to the Steel Cage match: Jean-Louis Duval vs. Adam Garcia.
Zac Brindle: This is the feud that has boiled over for months! Jean-Louis Duval, the Aristocrat of Agony, against the man he defeated for the European Cup, Adam Garcia, the Spanish Ace. Tonight, they are locked inside the steel cage.
Johnny Kaos: And it’s no accident this is happening in a cage, Brindle! Duval is a snobbish, calculated prick, but Garcia is a short-tempered bastard who will do whatever is necessary to win! With nowhere to run, this calculated fight is going to become a calculated riot.
The penultimate match is announced: International Heavyweight Championship Match, Masafumi Satake (c) vs. Ryujiro.
Zac Brindle: The International Heavyweight Championship is on the line. Masafumi Satake, the calm, dedicated professional now in the twilight of his career, defends against the Japanese challenger, Ryujiro!
Johnny Kaos: Satake is a Strong Style veteran, a powerhouse who just wants to leave a lasting impression on the business. But you never know what a determined challenger from the Japanese circuit is going to bring!
Finally, the main event: PV Heavyweight Championship, Caleb Knox (c) vs. Dash Diaz.
Zac Brindle: And our main event—the PV Heavyweight Championship, the main championship in the federation. The current champion, Caleb Knox, ‘Iron Heart’, defends against Dash Diaz, ‘The Standard’.
Johnny Kaos: This is the young gun, the technical flyer Dash Diaz, against the man with the unmatched focus and dedication to the sport, Caleb Knox. Knox is a gritty brawler with technical skill, and Diaz is being tipped as a future PV Heavyweight Champion. This is the irresistible force meeting the immovable object!
Zac Brindle: A phenomenal line-up for Oblivion 2025! Stay with us—the ring bell is next!
Single Match
‘The Wayward Traveler’ Bernard Wolfe vs. ‘The Celestial Crusader’ Gabriel Cross
The lights of the Crimson Club Casino & Arena dim, the massive screen above the ring shifting to an ominous deep indigo. A distorted, unsettling monastic choir sound rings out, instantly drawing a cascade of boos and jeers from the Atlantic City crowd. The theme music of GABRIEL CROSS—’Apostasy’—cuts through the noise, and the Celestial Crusader emerges, draped in a thick, white-and-gold, high-collared robe. He does not look left or right, his expression a mixture of intense focus and pious self-importance.
Zac Brindle: A chilling sight, Johnny, as the Celestial Crusader makes his way to the ring. There’s no flash, no energy, just this unnerving, silent dedication to his cause.
Johnny Kaos: He acts like he’s doing the fans a favor just by showing up, Brindle! Look at the venom from this crowd! They see right through the self-appointed prophet’s act! He’s here to win, and he doesn’t care whose faith he has to break to do it.
Cross steps through the ropes, refusing to make eye contact with the fans, kneeling briefly in the center of the ring as the boos reach a crescendo. Suddenly, the choir cuts out violently, replaced by a blast of high-energy, driving guitar riffs. The crowd explodes.
BERNARD WOLFE, The Wayward Traveler, sprints onto the stage, radiating pure, undeniable fighting spirit. He slaps hands with fans on the ramp, his movements quick, sharp, and focused, clad in crisp black trunks.
Zac Brindle: Contrast that with the electricity from Bernard Wolfe! The Wayward Traveler is ready to kick off Oblivion in the biggest way possible! He’s been all over the world, bringing that blend of Puroresu and World of Sport here to Project Violence!
Johnny Kaos: Wolfe’s got the fire! He’s the fan favourite tonight, Zac, and he needs to be careful not to let Cross’s calculating, methodical mind games take him out of his rhythm. That Strong Style of Wolfe is all about confidence!
Referee Harper W. Williams calls for the bell. The match is underway!
Wolfe is a blur of motion, immediately charging Cross and driving him into the neutral corner with a volley of fierce Chops to the chest. He whips Cross across the ring and intercepts him with a perfect Snap Belly-to-Belly Suplex that drops the Crusader hard on the mat. Wolfe immediately covers! ONE! Cross is out quickly.
Zac Brindle: A blistering start from Wolfe! Taking the fight immediately to Cross. That’s the American Strong Style approach: don’t think, just hit!
Cross slides outside to recover, faking a knee injury to buy time, drawing the referee away from him. He slides back in, catches Wolfe’s next charge, and drives a sharp Knee Strike straight into Wolfe’s midsection, sucking the air out of the Wayward Traveler’s lungs. Cross then executes a nasty Snap DDT, spiking Wolfe’s head on the mat. The pace instantly drops. Cross, now fully composed, begins wrenching Wolfe’s left arm in a deep, agonizing Omoplata submission, twisting the joint.
Johnny Kaos: That’s the Crusader’s technique! He’s a technician when he needs to be. He’s taking the fire out of Wolfe’s striking arm!
Wolfe fights the pain, screaming as Cross puts pressure on the joint. He eventually rolls through, uses his legs to power up, and finally kicks Cross off with his boot, sending the Crusader staggering back. Adrenaline pumping, Wolfe fires up! He hits the ropes and explodes with a trio of rapid-fire Lariats, turning Cross inside out on the final, vicious clothesline! Cross stumbles to the corner, selling the whiplash.
Wolfe sees his chance. He hits the opposite ropes, runs at the corner, and launches himself with a stunning, breathtaking Tope Suicida, crashing into Cross on the floor outside!
Zac Brindle: Good grief! The risk-taker! Wolfe just risked everything, launching himself over the top rope! The crowd is on their feet for this man!
Johnny Kaos: He knows he has to end this fast, Zac, before Cross can get back to that methodical limb work!
Wolfe drags the Crusader back into the ring, hits a powerful Rolling Elbow, and then hoists the dazed Cross onto his shoulder. DEATH VALLEY DRIVER connects! He hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! A hair’s breadth! Cross just gets his shoulder up! The referee signals two!
Wolfe signals the end. He knows the Gotch-Style Piledriver is next. He hooks Cross for the move. Cross desperately grabs the rope for leverage, clutching the top strand. Referee Harper W. Williams, attempting to maintain order, moves to check Cross’s position on the ropes and then turns slightly away to adjust a slightly loose turnbuckle pad in the corner.
In that split second of distraction, Cross drives his boot low and hard into Bernard Wolfe’s groin.
Zac Brindle: Oh, what was that?! He did not!
Wolfe instantly doubles over, gasping, eyes wide in shock and pain, hands clutching his abdomen. He sinks to his knees, his finisher hold broken. Cross sees the opportunity, grabs the unconscious Wolfe by the tights, and effortlessly hoists him up.
Johnny Kaos: He got him! A despicable, low-down, unholy shot! The referee missed it, Zac! It was a low blow!
Cross drops the incapacitated Wolfe with the full, devastating force of his high-impact finisher, the CELESTIAL CRUCIFIX POWERBOMB! Wolfe is spiked, lights out, flattened like a pancake. Cross falls onto him, hooking the leg with a handful of trunks, a vile smirk on his face.
Referee Harper W. Williams turns back, sees the cover, and drops. ONE! TWO! THREE!
The bell rings. The crowd erupts in a visceral wave of boos and angry chants.
Zac Brindle: It’s over! Gabriel Cross wins! The Celestial Crusader has started Oblivion 2025 with a victory!
Johnny Kaos: But it is tainted! Zac, he just stole that match with the most underhanded, despicable tactic in the book! A blatant low blow! Gabriel Cross proves he’ll resort to the most sinful methods to claim a win!
Cross’s hand is raised. He doesn’t look proud; he looks satisfied. He slides out of the ring, staring back at the downed Wolfe, that cold, judgmental smile on his face. Bernard Wolfe is helped to his feet by officials, selling the effects of the illegal strike, disappointment etched across his face as the Crusader disappears up the ramp. Oblivion 2025 has started with a monumental injustice.
Backstage
The broadcast cuts away abruptly from the arena and into the back of the Crimson Club Casino & Arena. The lighting here is dimmer, more utilitarian, emphasizing concrete walls and heavy steel door frames.
ELENA CRUZ, clad in a sharp, fashionable dress and holding a microphone, stands beside a large security door labeled “WRESTLERS ENTRANCE,” her expression one of forced professionalism mixed with palpable impatience.
Elena Cruz: Welcome back, Project Violence fans. We are standing by here at the wrestler arrival area as the stars continue to arrive for Oblivion 2025. As we’ve seen tonight, tensions are already running high, and the main event is still hours away. But perhaps no rivalry is more personal, more vicious, than the one that has led to a Steel Cage Match tonight…
A sudden commotion is heard just off-camera. Security personnel move quickly, and ADAM GARCIA, The Spanish Ace, strides into view, looking intense and focused. He wears a sleek, black leather jacket over a PV t-shirt, his face set in a grim expression.
Elena Cruz: —and speaking of vicious, here is Adam Garcia, who will face Jean-Louis Duval inside the Steel Cage later tonight. Adam, you look ready to go, but this isn’t just a match, it’s a Steel Cage Match, the ultimate enclosure—
Garcia stops, cutting her off instantly, his voice low and guttural, radiating fury.
Adam Garcia: Shut up, Elena. Just shut up.
He steps closer, his eyes burning with an unshakeable rage.
Adam Garcia: Tonight, I don’t need your questions, and I don’t need your cameras. Tonight, I don’t need to talk about my chances or my strategy. You want to know what I’m feeling?
He throws his jacket off, revealing the intense muscle and the tightly coiled energy in his body.
Adam Garcia: I feel relief.
Elena Cruz: Relief?
Adam Garcia: Yes, relief, because after months of running, after weeks of excuses and insults, after stealing the European Cup from me, after everything Jean-Louis Duval has done… tonight, he has nowhere left to go. The cage isn’t there to keep me out; it’s there to keep him in.
Garcia leans into the camera, his fists clenching and unclenching.
Adam Garcia: He can’t run to his chauffeur, he can’t use his pathetic little ‘legion,’ he can’t buy his way out. It’s just me, El Ace, and the unforgiving steel. He can kick, he can scratch, he can scream, but when I hit the Spanish Fly off the top of that cage, he is going to find out what true pain feels like.
He takes one final, simmering look at the camera, then spins on his heel, shoving past Elena Cruz and a camera operator without a word, disappearing into the depths of the arena’s inner workings. The door slams shut behind him.
Elena Cruz visibly adjusts her composure and looks back into the lens, a slight flicker of annoyance crossing her features.
Elena Cruz: Well, there you have it. High emotion, high stakes. Clearly, Adam Garcia is not interested in providing any social media-friendly soundbites. Back to you at ringside for the PV Tag Team Championship!
The screen transitions back to the arena.
PV Tag Team Championship Match
Masters of the Mat (c) vs. Rebel Society
The atmosphere shifts as a classical, operatic score, ‘Conquest of the Masters,’ fills the arena. The lights brighten to a stark, almost sterile white. GEORGE LANCHESTER and MIKE DONOVAN, The Masters of the Mat, emerge from the back, looking like they stepped out of a wrestling time capsule. Both men wear impeccably tailored, matching red and black robes over traditional trunks, their movements stiff and professional.
Zac Brindle: Here are our reigning, defending PV Tag Team Champions, George Lanchester and Mike Donovan. The Masters of the Mat are the epitome of the old school. Everything they do is technically sound, psychologically precise, and utterly ruthless.
Johnny Kaos: And boring, Brindle! The fans can’t stand them because they represent everything these people rebelled against! They don’t wrestle to entertain; they wrestle to dominate through submission holds and five-minute headlocks! They believe they are the standard.
Lanchester and Donovan share a cold, disdainful glance at the crowd before entering the ring, placing their belts meticulously on the mat before the referee.
Suddenly, the lights cut to black. A piercing, distorted siren blares, followed by the driving, chaotic rhythm of a punk-rock anthem, ‘Anarchy Rule.’ The Rebel Society—JAI MARSHALL and CHARLIE STRICKLAND—burst onto the stage. Marshall is all wild energy and brightly coloured hair, while Strickland, taller and lankier, has a focused, intense gaze. With them is their manager, KAT KELLISON, a whirlwind of attitude, flipping off the Masters and the crowd simultaneously.
Zac Brindle: A total change of pace! Here comes the challenge! The Rebel Society, led by the absolute firecracker that is Kat Kellison. This team is pure adrenaline.
Johnny Kaos: These kids are the future, Zac! They hate the establishment, they hate the rules, and they hate the Masters of the Mat. That hate is going to give them the edge they need to take those PV Tag Titles!
Marshall and Strickland ignore the ropes, sliding under the bottom strand and immediately meeting the Masters at the centre of the ring in a chaotic exchange of words. Referee Harper W. Williams quickly steps between them, demanding order before he can call for the bell.
The bell rings, and the match officially begins!
Jai Marshall and Mike Donovan start. Marshall tries to use his speed, darting in and out with quick forearm strikes, but Donovan, the cagey veteran, calmly sidesteps a dropkick and catches Marshall, driving him hard into the Masters’ corner.
George Lanchester tags himself in, immediately applying a textbook Chinlock. The crowd tries to rally Marshall, but Lanchester locks it in deeper, leaning his weight onto the neck.
Zac Brindle: Look at the psychology! Lanchester isn’t going for a pin; he’s taking the air out of the rebel, grounding the high-flyer, showing why they are the Masters of the Mat!
Marshall, after a desperate struggle, manages to fight to his feet. He elbows Lanchester in the gut once, twice, three times, before whipping him into the ropes. Marshall lowers his head for a Back Body Drop, but Lanchester stops, grabs a handful of Marshall’s hair, and viciously Snaps Marshall’s neck over the top rope! Marshall collapses, clutching his throat.
Donovan tags in, and the Masters execute a flawless tag team sequence: Donovan hits a Running Knee Lift on the staggered Marshall, followed immediately by Lanchester dropping a precise Elbow Drop on the spine. Donovan makes the cover! ONE! TWO! Marshall kicks out!
Johnny Kaos: Oh, that near fall! That was all technique, no flash! The Masters are picking Marshall apart, isolating him! Strickland is desperate for a tag!
The Masters continue their clinical assault. Lanchester isolates the arm, employing a series of arm wrenches and hammerlocks, tagging Donovan back in only to execute a perfectly timed Double Ax Handle across Marshall’s chest. Donovan cinches in a Wristlock and Headscissors combination, stifling Marshall’s movement.
Marshall, however, finds a sudden burst of desperation. He bridges out of the Headscissors, uses the torque to roll Donovan onto his shoulders—Small Package! ONE! TWO! Donovan just kicks out!
Both men scramble to their feet. Marshall makes a desperate dive, connecting with a Tornado DDT! Both men are down! Marshall crawls on hands and knees, stretching toward his corner.
Zac Brindle: He’s so close! The crowd is begging for the tag!
Marshall throws his hand out just as Charlie Strickland launches himself over the top rope! The tag is made!
Strickland is a house of fire! He immediately tackles Lanchester off the apron. He turns and delivers a Spinning Heel Kick to Donovan, followed by a Release Northern Lights Suplex that flips the champion completely over! Strickland is moving at double-time, feeding off the energy of the crowd.
Strickland signals for his finisher. Donovan staggers up, and Strickland locks him in a Double Underhook, setting up the Punk Rock Piledriver! But Lanchester is back on the apron! Kat Kellison, from the outside, grabs Lanchester’s ankle, distracting him!
Lanchester, enraged, shoves Kellison away, but the momentary distraction is all the time Donovan needed! Donovan uses the small space to break the grip, delivering a sharp Headbutt to Strickland’s nose! Strickland reels back, blood visible!
Donovan quickly tags in a recovered George Lanchester. The Masters go for their finish: Lanchester locks Strickland’s head, Donovan grabs the leg. The Masters’ Classic Spike Piledriver! But before they can connect, Marshall is back in, hitting a low Dropkick on Donovan’s knee, saving his partner!
The match descends into chaos—all four men are in the ring! Marshall hits Lanchester with a massive Flying Crossbodyover the top rope to the floor! Marshall and Lanchester are down outside!
In the ring, Strickland is barely standing, clutching his bloody nose. Donovan, seeing his window, pulls Strickland’s face into his shoulder and delivers a low, vicious Thumb to the Eye! Strickland yells in pain, blinded! Donovan uses the confusion to immediately hit his signature Mike’s Missile Dropkick into the corner! Donovan hooks him! ONE! TWO!
Lanchester, having recovered from Marshall’s crossbody, quickly slides back in and gets behind Donovan, pushing his partner’s back and adding a crucial fraction of extra weight to the pin! Referee Williams counts it!
THREE!
Zac Brindle: They did it! The Masters of the Mat retain!
Johnny Kaos: A desperate, last-second, illegal assist! Lanchester was pushing! He was adding weight! That’s why they are the Masters, Zac, they use every dirty trick in the book! They retain the PV Tag Team Championships!
The bell rings. George Lanchester and Mike Donovan quickly grab their titles and retreat up the ramp, smug and composed, leaving the broken, defeated Rebel Society in the ring. Kat Kellison screams obscenities at the retreating champions, but the Masters of the Mat have prevailed by any means necessary.
Backstage
The camera is set up outside the dedicated champion’s locker room, near the main broadcast production area. The lighting is more polished here, reflecting the status of the area. ELENA CRUZ stands ready, microphone in hand, attempting to fix her hair for the camera.
Elena Cruz: Welcome back to the backstage area. The energy is absolutely electric here at Oblivion 2025 as we await the arrival of the man who holds the most prestigious prize in Project Violence. We’re expecting the PV Heavyweight Champion, the ‘Iron King’ CALEB KNOX, any moment now, as he prepares to defend his title against the incredibly talented Dash Diaz—
The loud, metallic sound of a heavy travel case being dropped interrupts her. CALEB KNOX walks into the frame, escorted by two silent, massive security guards. Knox is dressed in an expensive, dark three-piece suit, contrasting sharply with his muscular build and the heavy gold PV Heavyweight Championship belt casually slung over his shoulder. He ignores Elena, his attention completely focused on the arena entrance tunnel across the hall.
Johnny Kaos (V.O.): There he is! The Iron King! Look at the confidence dripping off of him, Zac!
Zac Brindle (V.O.): And why wouldn’t he be confident, Johnny? Caleb Knox has systematically taken out every challenge put in front of him. He is the standard-bearer for dominance in Project Violence.
Knox finally turns his head, giving Elena Cruz a cold, dismissive look that suggests she’s beneath him.
Elena Cruz: Champion, thank you for stopping. Tonight, you face Dash Diaz, ‘The Standard,’ who many believe is the future of this company. Are you concerned at all about the pure athletic ability and speed that Diaz brings to the main event?
Knox smiles, a cold, shark-like expression that doesn’t reach his eyes. He slowly takes the PV Heavyweight Championship belt off his shoulder and holds it up, admiring the gold.
Caleb Knox: Concerned, Elena? That’s a word for fanatics and hopefuls. That’s a word for Dash Diaz, who has to look in the mirror and pray his little flips and flying knees are enough to dethrone a king.
He lets out a short, cynical laugh.
Caleb Knox: I am not concerned. I am prepared. I know Dash Diaz is fast. I know he’s agile. I know the fans love his little babyface comeback spots. But what does that matter when he can’t handle true, concentrated violence?
Knox takes a purposeful step closer to the camera.
Caleb Knox: Tonight, I’m not wrestling a PV Heavyweight Championship match. I’m having a professional demonstration. I am going to demonstrate the difference between a pretty, promising toy and a legendary weapon. That title on my shoulder isn’t made of gold, Elena, it’s made of grit, sacrifice, and the blood of every man who tried and failed to take it.
He points a finger directly at the camera.
Caleb Knox: Dash Diaz can call himself ‘The Standard’ all he wants, but tonight, I am going to break his spirit, break his body, and prove to the world that there is only one true Standard in Project Violence, and it is Iron. He will learn that tonight, in the main event, the Iron King always reigns supreme.
Knox turns his back on Elena Cruz mid-sentence, striding toward his locker room. His security detail quickly follows, one of them pulling the heavy door shut with a decisive thud. Elena stares after the closed door, adjusting her microphone with an annoyed roll of her eyes.
Elena Cruz: Well, there’s no shortage of confidence from the champion. Back to you at ringside.
PV TV Championship Match
Midas (c) vs. Dutch Ramirez
The stage is engulfed in a thick, golden mist. A repetitive, hypnotic Middle Eastern melody begins to play, the sound both exotic and sinister. From the fog emerges KATYA ROUX, dressed in an opulent, form-fitting gold gown, carrying a black, velvet-lined box. She walks with a slow, almost regal pace. Following her is the champion, MIDAS, the PV TV Champion. He wears a tight, jet-black bodysuit and, most distinctively, an ornate, gold Egyptian mask that covers his entire face. He moves silently, his presence unnervingly still.
Zac Brindle: Here is our PV TV Champion, Midas, and his manipulative manager, Katya Roux. He is the champion of the rising stars, but he wrestles with a cold, calculated intensity that leaves everyone chilled. And he never utters a word.
Johnny Kaos: The Midas Touch is real, Zac! Every match he has is a classic, but every victory feels stolen! He’s a silent psychopath, and Katya Roux is the snake oil saleswoman keeping the gold around his waist! Look at the way he carries himself—complete arrogance!
Katya Roux presents the PV TV Championship belt to the referee, whispering something quickly to him before Midas enters the ring, ignoring the crowd completely.
The lights suddenly explode into blinding white, accompanied by the ferocious roar of a heavily modified V-twin engine and a blast of classic Southern rock. The crowd explodes for DUTCH RAMIREZ, The Outlaw. He rides his way down the ramp on a customised motorcycle, throwing his leather cut and helmet to the side as he reaches the ring. He is all power, grit, and the determined look of a man who fights for principle.
Zac Brindle: A man of the people! Dutch Ramirez, the Outlaw, has been knocking on the door of a PV championship for years! Tonight, he gets his chance against the masked enigma!
Johnny Kaos: The power difference is clear! Dutch is a brawler, a force of nature! He is the perfect antidote to Midas’s sneaky, technical style! Tonight, we see if the power of the Highway Hammer can break the Midas Touch!
Dutch slides under the ropes, his eyes locked on Midas. The challenger is massive, his intensity focused solely on the gold belt held high by the referee. The referee, Harper W. Williams, calls for the bell!
Midas starts with quick, darting strikes, utilizing his speed and low center of gravity. He hits a series of Knife-Edge Chops to Dutch’s chest, trying to soften the big man up. Dutch absorbs them, then shoves Midas away with a roar!
Dutch Ramirez charges, catching Midas with a massive Back Elbow Smash, sending the masked man reeling into the corner. Dutch unleashes a relentless barrage of forearms and punches, cornering the champion. He whips Midas across the ring, calling for a clothesline, but Midas ducks underneath and hits a lightning-fast Tornillo DDT! The speed is breathtaking!
Zac Brindle: That’s the Midas advantage! He’s a ghost in the ring, you never know where he’s going to strike next!
Midas immediately applies a punishing Modified Figure-Four Headlock, wrenching Dutch’s neck and jaw. Dutch struggles, his face turning red as he powers to his feet, slamming Midas off his back to break the hold!
The momentum shifts dramatically. Dutch catches Midas attempting a springboarding move, catching him cleanly and delivering a brutal Fallaway Slam! Midas lands with a sickening thud. Dutch follows up with a series of heavy, stomping blows to the champion’s ribs.
Johnny Kaos: Dutch is dominating! He knows he needs to wear Midas down, take away that speed!
Dutch calls for his signature power move. He hoists Midas onto his shoulders, signaling the Highway Hammer—a modified Death Valley Driver! But Katya Roux screams from the outside, distracting the referee! As the referee turns to warn Roux, Midas slips down Dutch’s back and delivers a devastating Low Blow—a clear, illegal shot to the groin! The referee never sees it!
Dutch stumbles back, clutching his abdomen, his momentum shattered. Midas capitalizes instantly, hitting a Springboard Moonsault right onto the winded Outlaw! Midas locks in his signature submission hold—the GOLDEN COIL, a vicious, deep Crossface with a body-scissors lock!
Zac Brindle: The Golden Coil! It’s over! Midas has it locked in, deep in the center of the ring! Dutch has nowhere to go!
Dutch Ramirez is in agony, his face contorted with pain. He crawls desperately towards the ropes, but the masked champion drags him back to the center! The crowd chants wildly, desperately trying to rally the challenger. Dutch finds a final burst of adrenaline, twisting and turning, until he powers to his feet with Midas locked onto his back! He slams Midas back-first into the turnbuckle!
Midas is dazed! Dutch, fueled by the adrenaline of the crowd and his own sheer stubbornness, catches Midas coming off the ropes and delivers a crushing Spinebuster! Dutch is bleeding from the mouth, but he is pumped!
He hits the ropes, delivering his signature Lariat, The Outlaw’s Justice! Midas is rocked, but stays on his feet, wobbling! Dutch hits him again! Outlaw’s Justice number two! The champion spins, but stays vertical!
Dutch snarls, grabs Midas, and hoists him onto his shoulder one last time. This time, there are no distractions. HIGHWAY HAMMER! The Death Valley Driver connects with crushing force! Midas’s masked head bounces off the canvas!
Dutch immediately falls on top, hooking both legs with a determined yell! Referee Harper W. Williams slides in!
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Zac Brindle: HE DID IT! DUTCH RAMIREZ! A NEW PV TV CHAMPION! The Outlaw has finally reached the mountaintop!
Johnny Kaos: YES! Justice! The power of the Outlaw was too much for the golden mask! The reign of Midas is over!
The arena explodes with cheers and the roar of the motorcycle engine theme. Katya Roux scrambles into the ring, screaming at the referee, protesting the loss, but the decision stands. Dutch Ramirez is handed the PV TV Championship belt. He raises it above his head, his face a mixture of relief, triumph, and exhaustion. The Outlaw is a champion!
Backstage
The scene opens on ELENA CRUZ standing in the corridor near the main event locker rooms. She is touching up her makeup in a compact mirror, showing her usual preoccupation with appearance.
Elena Cruz: Welcome back, viewers. I am joined now by the man who challenges for the biggest prize in Project Violence tonight, the man who calls himself ‘The Standard’—Dash Diaz.
DASH DIAZ steps into the frame, wiping sweat from his brow. He is dressed in his ring gear, his expression a mix of nervousness and intense focus. The crowd noise from the arena can be faintly heard in the background.
Elena Cruz: Dash, tonight is the biggest match of your career. You are challenging ‘The Iron King,’ Caleb Knox, for the PV Heavyweight Championship. Knox just told us he views this match as nothing more than a “professional demonstration,” where he plans to break your spirit. How do you respond to that level of arrogance?
Dash runs a hand over his short hair, taking a moment to choose his words.
Dash Diaz: Look, Elena, Caleb Knox can talk all he wants about demonstrations, iron, and kings. He’s the champion, and he’s earned the right to be arrogant. He’s earned the right to believe he’s untouchable. But that’s the difference between us: Knox fights to preserve the past, and I’m fighting to usher in the future.
He steps closer to the camera, his voice rising with conviction.
Dash Diaz: I didn’t call myself ‘The Standard’ because I think I’m good; I called myself ‘The Standard’ because I know the bar for greatness in this company needs to be raised! The PV Heavyweight Championship deserves a champion who leads with innovation, with athleticism, and with heart. That belt deserves a champion who fights for the fans who put food on the table, not just for his own ego.
Elena Cruz: But Knox is a known commodity. He’s a brawler, he’s a technician, and he has that legendary focus. You rely heavily on speed and high-flying maneuvers. Are you concerned that Knox will simply ground you, slow down the pace, and use his sheer power to nullify your offense, just as he has done to so many others?
Dash shakes his head slowly, a determined fire in his eyes.
Dash Diaz: He will try. He’s going to try to chop me, he’s going to try to lock me up, and he’s going to try to make me quit. But Caleb Knox has never faced a man with my level of hunger. Every single match, every moment I’ve spent training since I was a kid, has led to this one night.
He looks directly into the lens, addressing the champion watching on a monitor.
Dash Diaz: Caleb, you call yourself The Iron King. Tonight, you’re going to find out that every king has a weakness. Tonight, you’re going to find out that the PV Heavyweight Championship is too heavy for one man’s ego to carry. When I hit the Dash Cutter in that main event, the only thing you’ll hear is the roar of this crowd and the sound of a new, better Standard being set! Enjoy your final few hours, Champion, because tonight, I take the gold!
Dash gives a quick, focused nod, then strides off towards the locker rooms. Elena Cruz watches him go, then turns back to the camera, a slight smirk playing on her lips.
Elena Cruz: Intense words from ‘The Standard.’ We’ll see if his passion can overcome the sheer dominance of Caleb Knox in tonight’s main event. Back to the ring!
Steel Cage Match
Jean Louis Duval vs. Adam Garcia
The arena is bathed in deep, harsh shadows. High above the ring, the massive, imposing structure of the black STEEL CAGE is lowered, its metallic clang reverberating throughout the Crimson Club Casino & Arena. The crowd erupts in a mix of awe and morbid excitement.
Zac Brindle: The air just got heavier, Johnny. The Steel Cage has descended, and there is no escape. Tonight, the bitter, personal feud between Jean-Louis Duval and Adam Garcia is locked inside this unforgiving structure!
Johnny Kaos: This is the natural conclusion, Zac! Duval, the arrogant French Aristocrat, has used every dirty trick to insult and injure the Spanish Ace, Garcia. Tonight, we see if Garcia can take his revenge when the cheating is finally limited!
A solemn, classical French theme, ‘L’Élite,’ begins to play. JEAN-LOUIS DUVAL saunters out, wearing a pristine, custom-made velvet robe, flanked by his imposing security detail. He glances up at the cage with a sneer, a look of utter distaste on his face, as if the entire structure is beneath his sensibilities.
Zac Brindle: Look at the disdain on Duval’s face. He hates that he’s been forced into this brutal environment, but he is a calculated athlete. He knows how to inflict pain.
Johnny Kaos: He’s pretending he’s too good for this, but trust me, Duval is a snake. He’ll use the cage like a weapon.
Duval reluctantly enters the cage, barking orders at the referee to check the door lock multiple times before he’s satisfied.
The lights flash a brilliant scarlet and gold. A fiery Spanish guitar melody, ‘El Ace,’ blasts through the speakers, and the crowd absolutely explodes. ADAM GARCIA sprints out, pure adrenaline surging through him. He is already stripped down to his gear, and his face is a mask of pure, determined vengeance. He completely ignores the fans, his eyes fixed only on Duval inside the steel prison.
Zac Brindle: The Spanish Ace is here, and he is ready! This match means more than just a win; this is about months of emotional payback for Adam Garcia!
Johnny Kaos: He’s treating that cage like a finishing line, not a barrier! He wants to get his hands on Duval!
Garcia slides under the bottom rope and immediately charges Duval, who tries to use the referee as a shield. The bell rings, and the fight is on!
Garcia unleashes a furious assault—a flurry of rapid Forearm Shots and European Uppercuts that drive Duval into the steel mesh. Garcia then grabs Duval’s head and repeatedly DRIVES IT INTO THE CAGE WALL! The sound of bone on metal echoes painfully through the arena. Duval screams, trying to cover up.
Zac Brindle: Immediate, brutal payback! Garcia is not wasting any time! This is pure, unadulterated aggression!
Duval manages to kick Garcia away and tries to climb! He gets three feet up, but Garcia races over, leaps up, and executes a breathtaking Leaping Enzuigiri Kick that knocks Duval back into the ring!
Garcia hooks a dazed Duval for his finisher, but Duval frantically rakes Garcia’s eyes! He follows up with a snap Samoan Drop! Duval, now recovering, finds a length of loose steel turnbuckle padding, which he uses to choke Garcia against the ropes! Referee Harper W. Williams admonishes him, but in the chaos, Duval shoves the ref away!
Duval takes control, utilizing the cage in calculated fashion. He whips Garcia hard into the cage wall, then grabs Garcia’s face and scrapes it across the mesh! Blood begins to instantly pour from a cut above Garcia’s eye.
Johnny Kaos: Ugh! That is disgusting! Garcia is busted open! Duval is trying to blind him with blood!
Duval locks in a crippling Guillotine Choke. Garcia struggles, trying to use the cage to push off, but Duval cinches it tighter. Garcia’s veins are bulging. With one final act of desperation, Garcia uses his legs to roll back, slamming his own and Duval’s body backwards into the cage floor! The choke is broken!
Both men slowly rise, Garcia barely able to see through the blood now streaming down his face. They trade vicious blows—Garcia’s desperation strikes against Duval’s stiff, powerful clubbing forearms. Duval gains the upper hand, hitting his devastating finishing move, the French Kiss (Running Knee Lift)! Duval covers Garcia! ONE! TWO! Garcia kicks out!
Duval, frustrated, begins to climb, going for the escape victory! Garcia, running on pure instinct, crawls across the ring, grabbing Duval’s foot. He drags Duval back down, then climbs the turnbuckle and begins climbing the cage, right alongside his rival! They fight atop the ten-foot structure!
Zac Brindle: My god! They are fighting on the thin ledge of the cage wall! What are they thinking?!
Garcia headbutts Duval, sending the Frenchman tumbling onto the top rope! Garcia stands atop the cage wall, surveying the damage. He spots Duval staggering in the ring below. With a warrior’s yell, Garcia takes the ultimate risk, soaring through the air for a DIVING CAGE-TOP CROSSBODY! He crashes onto Duval!
Both men are completely decimated, but the impact shifts the momentum entirely. Garcia pulls himself up, fueled by the energy of the now-screaming crowd. He hooks Duval one last time. He hits the SPANISH FLY (Double Underhook Piledriver)! It’s absolutely lights out!
Garcia collapses into the cover, his blood smearing across Duval’s chest.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Zac Brindle: It’s over! ADAM GARCIA has done it! Vengeance is his! The Spanish Ace has won the war inside the steel cage!
Johnny Kaos: That was a statement victory, Zac! He took the punishment, he bled for this company, and he finished the bastard off with the Spanish Fly! Duval got exactly what he deserved!
The cage is raised slightly. Garcia slowly rises, his face a mess of exhaustion and blood, but a triumphant snarl on his face. He raises his arm to the cheering crowd, having finally closed the most bitter chapter of his career.
Backstage
The scene is quiet, a stark contrast to the roar of the arena, shifting to a dimly lit, private training area backstage. The camera focuses on the canvas mat laid out on the floor. The only sound is the rhythmic thud of flesh hitting the mat and the challenger’s heavy, controlled breathing.
RYUJIRO, the Rising Sun Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Champion, is intensely focused. He is wearing simple black training gear, with thick tape wrapped around his wrists and ankles. He is a study in quiet intensity—not a typical powerhouse, but wiry and explosive, his eyes locked straight ahead.
He is running through a series of elaborate, technical grappling sequences, seamlessly transitioning from a Schwein to a Kimura, then exploding into a sequence of low, stiff Kicks against a heavy bag propped against the wall.
Zac Brindle (V.O.): This is Ryujiro, Johnny, in his element. The Rising Sun Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Champion, focused and prepared for the biggest opportunity of his career. He challenges Masafumi Satake next for the International Heavyweight Championship.
Johnny Kaos (V.O.): Look at the precision, Zac. Not a wasted motion. This is the Puroresu style; everything has a purpose. He’s not talking, he’s not grandstanding; he’s preparing for a forty-minute war against a legend. That is respect.
Ryujiro transitions to practicing his striking. He delivers rapid-fire Palm Strikes and Chops into the padded bag, each impact sharp and immediate. He stops, taking a deep, calming breath, staring at the bag as if it were his opponent. He bows briefly to the inanimate object—a sign of respect for the contest—and then moves to the corner.
He picks up a small, folded towel and dabs his face, his eyes never leaving the doorway that leads to the main corridor. The camera focuses on his expression: solemn, determined, and showing a deep, almost spiritual reverence for the challenge ahead. He is ready to test himself against a veteran like Satake.
Suddenly, a massive, muscular forearm enters the frame. The owner of the arm gently places a small, open bottle of water on the floor beside Ryujiro.
Ryujiro looks up sharply. Standing there is MASAFUMI SATAKE, the International Heavyweight Champion. Satake, the veteran, offers a single, non-verbal nod of respect, his expression calm and unwavering.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t offer advice. He simply acknowledges the coming battle, then turns and walks silently down the corridor toward the entrance.
Ryujiro stares after him for a moment, then glances down at the water bottle. He picks it up, takes a single, measured sip, and then throws the towel over his shoulder. The silent exchange has spoken volumes. The challenger is ready for the champion. He slowly begins to walk towards the entrance, his mind already in the ring.
The screen fades to black.
International Heavyweight Championship Match
Masafumi Satake (c) vs. Ryujiro
The atmosphere inside the Crimson Club Casino & Arena feels reverent, charged with anticipation for a contest of technical mastery. The lights dim, and a powerful, traditional Japanese drum beat begins.
MASAFUMI SATAKE, the International Heavyweight Champion, makes his entrance. The veteran walks with a calm, focused determination, the gold title gleaming around his waist. He shows respect to the audience with a slight, formal bow, his face set in a look of quiet resolve.
Zac Brindle: A man who defines honor in this business, Masafumi Satake. The International Heavyweight Championship represents a style of wrestling based on grit, strikes, and discipline. Satake has been a champion, in various forms, for two decades.
Johnny Kaos: He is the measuring stick, Zac. But time stops for no man. He faces a younger, faster version of himself tonight.
Satake enters the ring, carefully handing the referee his belt, his eyes already fixed on the ramp.
The arena is plunged into a single spotlight as a sharp, tense electronic score, ‘The Blade’s Edge,’ begins. RYUJIRO, the Rising Sun Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Champion, makes his way to the ring, moving with a quick, predatory efficiency. He shows respect to the crowd but is completely focused on the champion.
Zac Brindle: Here is the challenger, Ryujiro. The current champion of Rising Sun Pro Wrestling, here to prove his style, his discipline, and his promotion’s quality against the best Project Violence has to offer. This is a clash of two generations of Japanese Strong Style!
Johnny Kaos: This isn’t about heel or face right now; this is about legacy. They both want to prove their dominance through respect and pain. This match is going to be stiff!
The bell rings! The two men immediately meet in the center, engaging in a rigorous Collar-and-Elbow Tie-up. It’s a test of strength, a psychological chess match that lasts a full minute before Satake uses his size advantage to force Ryujiro into the ropes. Satake breaks clean, delivering a respectful but intense pat to Ryujiro’s chest.
Ryujiro responds not with a strike, but with a perfectly executed Arm Drag that sends Satake tumbling across the ring. Ryujiro keeps the pressure on, locking in a deep Cattle Mutilation submission hold, wrenching the veteran’s neck and arms.
Zac Brindle: Incredible chain wrestling from Ryujiro! He’s using his quickness to get position on the larger Satake!
Satake, using his veteran knowledge, powers his way up and drops backwards, slamming Ryujiro onto the canvas to break the hold. Satake immediately capitalizes, delivering two punishing Closed-Fist Forearm Strikes and a devastating Short-Arm Clothesline that turns Ryujiro inside out! Satake covers! ONE! TWO! Ryujiro kicks out with urgency!
The action remains back and forth, each man countering the other’s signature moves. Ryujiro connects with a series of lightning-quick Roundhouse Kicks to Satake’s thigh and chest, attempting to chop down the champion. Satake absorbs them, yelling in defiance, before delivering an earth-shaking Headbutt that floors the challenger!
Satake sets up for his finisher, the Death Valley Bomb! He lifts Ryujiro, but Ryujiro brilliantly reverses, twisting out and landing on his feet, hitting a Rolling German Suplex! He holds the bridge! ONE! TWO! Satake kicks out!
The challenger is relentless. He immediately pulls Satake up for a second German Suplex, then a third! Three consecutive Germans! Ryujiro signals for his finishing blow, the Shooting Star Press! He climbs the turnbuckle!
Suddenly, a massive figure slides into the ring from the timekeeper’s area. It is ‘The Lone Star’ COLT THOMPSON!
Johnny Kaos: What in the hell?! That’s Colt Thompson! Ryujiro’s own rival from Rising Sun Pro Wrestling!
Thompson, a hulking, sneering heel, is wielding a steel chair. Ryujiro sees him and leaps off the turnbuckle, attempting a Dropkick, but Thompson catches the chair and violently swings it, hitting RYUJIRO SQUARE IN THE HEAD! Ryujiro collapses, clutching his skull!
Thompson is not done. Satake, seeing the illegal attack, charges Thompson to defend his challenger. Thompson whirls around and delivers a sickening chair shot to MASAFUMI SATAKE’S SPINE! The champion drops the International Heavyweight Championship belt and crumbles to the mat!
Zac Brindle: NO! Colt Thompson is assaulting both men! He’s not just attacking Ryujiro; he’s attacking the champion!
The referee frantically calls for the bell and signals for officials to rush the ring, attempting to pull the maniacal Thompson away. Thompson stands over the two fallen, champions, his breathing ragged, the steel chair held high in his hand. He then kneels down, picks up the International Heavyweight Championship belt, holds it up to the booing crowd, and throws it down onto the chests of the two vanquished men, making a deliberate statement.
Thompson shoves the incoming security and sprints up the ramp, his intentions painfully clear: neither man deserves to hold the gold, and he is coming for both titles.
Johnny Kaos: That’s it! The match is a NO CONTEST! Thompson has ruined what was shaping up to be a classic! The Lone Star wants a piece of everyone!
Zac Brindle: This is a tragedy! A phenomenal match ruined by the personal vendetta of Colt Thompson! Both the PV International Heavyweight Champion and the RSPW Heavyweight Champion have been decimated! What a bitter end to this contest!
Backstage
The scene opens on a wide shot of JAMES VON DRAKE‘s office. The space is slick, modern, and expensive, with a panoramic view of the Atlantic City skyline visible through the window behind his massive mahogany desk. A large,illuminated PV logo is mounted on the wall. Von Drake sits behind the desk, dressed impeccably in a charcoal suit, a stern but professional expression on his face.
James Von Drake: Good evening, Project Violence faithful. Tonight, Oblivion 2025 has already delivered the kind of unforgettable, defining moments we promised. We have seen new champions crowned, old scores settled, and new rivalries ignited.
He leans forward, resting his hands on the desk. The camera pushes in slightly.
James Von Drake: However, as we have always maintained here in the Sanctioned Violence group, the machine never stops. The next chapter must be written, and tonight, I am here to announce when that next step into darkness will occur.
He pauses, allowing the announcement to build.
James Von Drake: Mark your calendars. Prepare yourselves for the inevitable consequences of the actions you have witnessed tonight, and in the weeks leading up to this event. Because on Saturday, November 29th, 2025, the entire roster will pay for their sins.
Von Drake picks up a black, embossed folder from his desk and holds it up, revealing the crisp, aggressive logo on the cover.
James Von Drake: I am proud to announce the next major Project Violence Pay-Per-View event: PV RETRIBUTION 2025!
He slams the folder back down on the desk with a sharp crack.
James Von Drake: PV Retribution 2025 will take place live from our home, the Crimson Club Casino & Arena in Atlantic City, and it will stream exclusively on the Sanctioned Violence Network. The rivalries that spilled blood tonight—Garcia and Duval, Knox and Diaz, the lingering feud between Ryujiro and Colt Thompson—they will all reach their breaking point.
Von Drake stands up, his voice growing in intensity.
James Von Drake: If you commit the crime in Project Violence, you must serve the time. And at Retribution, the sentences will be severe. The path of true violence begins tonight, but the consequences will be delivered on November 29th. The only thing waiting for them is the price they have to pay.
He stares directly into the camera, a thin, ruthless smile on his face.
James Von Drake: Believe
PV Heavyweight Championship Match
‘Iron King’ Caleb Knox (c) vs. ‘The Standard’ Dash Diaz
The atmosphere in the Crimson Club Casino & Arena reaches a fever pitch. All the house lights dim, replaced by a single, focused amber glow. A heavy, industrial theme—’Forge of Will’—starts, slow and menacing, accompanied by the sight of sparks and metal on the massive screen.
CALEB KNOX, The Iron King and PV Heavyweight Champion, makes his entrance. He walks with a slow, deliberate pace, wearing a heavy, black leather coat, his championship belt strapped tightly around his waist. His face is impassive,radiating cold, calculated confidence.
Zac Brindle: This is the main event, Johnny. The Iron King has been unwavering in his dominance, and tonight he promised to give a “professional demonstration” of why he is the face of this company.
Johnny Kaos: He’s a machine, Zac, all power and precision. But he’s running into a brick wall of heart tonight!
Knox steps into the ring, taking his time to look down at the challenger’s entrance ramp, crossing his arms with arrogant patience.
Suddenly, a massive surge of energy hits the arena. An anthemic, driving rock theme—’Set The Standard’—erupts, and the crowd surges to its feet! DASH DIAZ, The Standard, explodes onto the stage, sprinting to the ring. He’s bouncing,electric, clearly operating on pure adrenaline and heart.
Zac Brindle: Here is the future! Dash Diaz, the man who has done everything right, who has scratched and clawed his way to this moment! The athleticism, the charisma—it’s all there!
Johnny Kaos: This is his time, Zac! He has the speed to counter the power! He has the agility to counter the grit! He has to seize this moment!
The referee, Harper W. Williams, holds the PV Heavyweight Championship high. The bell rings, and the final match of Oblivion 2025 is underway!
Diaz is quick off the mark, ducking a powerful clothesline from Knox and immediately hitting a series of quick Leg Kicks to the champion’s lead leg. He tries a Headscissors Takedown, but Knox powers through it, catching Diaz mid-move and driving him into the corner with a vicious Shoulder Tackle!
Knox immediately slows the pace, locking in a suffocating Side Headlock. He keeps it cinched for nearly two full minutes, squeezing the life out of the younger challenger, using his weight advantage to grind Diaz down.
Zac Brindle: This is the game plan, Johnny. Knox is taking away the speed. He’s draining the gas from the tank of Dash Diaz.
Diaz fights with desperation, elbows Knox in the gut, and finally forces the separation. Diaz tries to follow up with a springboarding move, but Knox is too fast, catching him out of the air and delivering a brutal Powerbomb! Knox covers!ONE! TWO! Diaz kicks out!
Knox, now frustrated, begins to employ heavy strikes. He delivers massive, bone-jarring Knife-Edge Chops to Diaz’s chest, the sound echoing throughout the arena. Diaz, showing incredible heart, refuses to go down, firing back with quick Forearm Strikes of his own, but the champion’s blows are heavier, each one slowly wearing Diaz away.
The Iron King attempts his signature move, the Iron Heart Lariat, but Diaz ducks it, spins around, and connects with a Superkick that momentarily stuns Knox! Diaz capitalizes immediately, hitting a Springboard Moonsault to the outside!
Johnny Kaos: The speed pays off! The high-risk maneuver connects! Diaz is still in this fight!
Diaz drags Knox back into the ring, climbs the top rope, and hits a beautiful 450 Splash! He hooks the leg! ONE! TWO!Knox just gets his shoulder up! The champion survives!
Diaz cannot believe it. He signals for the end. He tries to hook Knox for the Dash Cutter (Inverted DDT), but the champion violently shoves him into the referee! Williams stumbles back against the ropes, dazed.
With the referee momentarily out of commission, Knox delivers a blatant Low Blow to Diaz! The challenger collapses,clutching himself! Knox then rips the turnbuckle padding off the top corner, exposing the cold steel. He grabs the reeling Diaz and hurls him head-first into the exposed steel! Diaz drops like a stone!
Zac Brindle: Despicable! Knox is taking every shortcut in the book! He is a desperate champion!
Knox smiles grimly, adjusts his wrist wraps, and hoists the unconscious Diaz onto his shoulder, setting up the final blow.He connects with the Iron King Driver—a devastating Fire Thunder Driver! Knox doesn’t even cover right away,instead stepping back to admire his work.
The referee slowly crawls over to make the count. Knox makes the cover, hooking the leg with a smug expression.
ONE!TWO!THREE!
CALEB KNOX RETAINS!
The bell rings, the arena a mix of angry boos and the disappointed silence of the Dash Diaz faithful. The champion rolls off the challenger, grabs his PV Heavyweight Championship belt, and raises it high over the fallen body of Dash Diaz.
Johnny Kaos: No! He did it! The Iron King found the dirtiest, most calculated way to retain his championship! Dash Diaz gave everything he had, but the Iron King’s arrogance and brutal tactics were too much!
Zac Brindle: A controversial but definitive end to Oblivion 2025. Caleb Knox stands tall, still your PV Heavyweight Champion. He broke The Standard tonight. The Iron King reigns supreme.
Knox stands over Diaz, planting his boot on the chest of the defeated challenger one last time before his music swells. He leaves the ring, the gold still around his waist, the final, dominant image of the night
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