The Age Begins

[Scene: A graffiti-covered room. The walls are cracked concrete, layered in spray paint, old posters, and anger. A single light swings above a weathered table. Photos of OCW talent, match cards, and scribbled notes are taped to the wall. Rayzah stands alone — calm, focused, surgical.]

Rayzah:

They wanted to call us Insurrection.

Nah… we off that.

He smirks, just a little. Not cocky — certain.

Rayzah:

That name don’t fit no more.

‘Cause this?

This ain’t a rebellion. This is what comes after.

He looks to the wall, one hand resting near the word “AMBITION” scrawled beside a row of taped-up faces.

Rayzah:

We’re not the spark —

We’re the fire that don’t go out.

We don’t riot.

We restructure.

We take what they protect and tear out the floorboards.

He moves a photo — Dresden — and places it lower, underneath Shelly’s.

Rayzah:

Call it what you want.

Call it survival.

Call it vengeance.

Call it war.

He turns to the camera now, no mask, no grin. Just truth.

Rayzah:

But make no mistake…

This is the Age of Anarchy.

And it don’t end when the match is over.

It ends when we say it ends.

[Fade to black. The light flickers once. Then nothing.]

https://imgur.com/a/F7SGh0W

Edited July 17, 2025Jul 17 by Rayzah