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The Prodigy's Meditation


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The camera pans around an empty, dark room in the OCW Combat Center, soon falling on the long hair of The Prodigy. His gloved fists slam into a hanging punching bag as he grunted to himself over and over


Nathanial: Oh and two. Oh. And. Fucking. Two.


He soon takes one last harsh punch before turning to stare the camera down, his black and blond hair drenched in sweat. Some of it blocks his eyes before he sweeps it back out of his face


Nathanial: I know how each and every one of you see me now. A rookie, a greenie, a nobody, and that's fine, I expected that. What I didn't expect, was my fucking DEBUT to be against someone triple my size. But that's also fine, that's just fuel to the fire. That feeds me to WANT to win more.


He takes a few deep pants before leaning over and grabbing his bottle. He takes a long drink before tossing it away


Nathanial: I'll be back. And next time, I won't be taken lightly. I brought Marshall to a good, long fight, and to him, I have unending respect for catching me off guard with the Cort-plex. But that's not the last you've seen of me, nowhere fucking near.


The screen fades back to black as he returns to striking combos into the punching bag

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