Crime is the dark side of the city that people wish didn't exist. Break and Enter, Armed Robbery, Assault, all are things that city officials hope will one day disappear. As small crimes escalate in a city so do larger ones. Robbing a couple of convienence stores may give a criminal the ego large enough to amke his next job a bank robbery. A teenager getting away with assault may think he's got the skills to get away with sexual assault next time and maybe, if he can get away with that, he can get away with something bigger. In the end the biggest crime that can be commited is murder, wether it's one person or 25,000. Wether you commit it with a piece of piano wire, a knife, or an airplane in the end it all translates to the same word.

It's a late night in Phoenix Arizona. Most people are sleeping comfortabley in their cozy beds as they dream of the coming weekend. In one neighbourhood though the silence of the night is broken by a barrage of police sirens and flashing lights. A mother and father stand outside their front door, wrapped in each other's arms. Tears stream down the woman's face as the man stares out past the front lawn. Laying, no more than 30 feet away, is their daughter. Her body is statue esque as it lays on the black top of the paved driveway. Dark arterial blood snakes it's way to the street from a deep wound in the girl's back. Around her the contents of a pair of bags, from a Circle K, lay strewn about. After the police arrive it takes them a handfull of minutes to secure the house and tape off the area. After they take the statements of the family and any other witnesses their job at the scene is basically done, all they have left to do is wait for the Crime Scene Investigators. Yes, they do exist and their job is similar to the way their portrayed in Hollywood and on TV.

Shane Jackson stands at the edge of the crime scene. Around him people are rushing toward the police tape to catch a glimpse of what's happened.

Shane: Strange, as much as murder disgusts people they all want to see it. When the story appears on the news and in the papers they want to be able to tell their friends that they were there, that they saw the scene. They hate death but they all want to be aware of it when it happens to someone else.

Shane walks toward the police tape that surrounds that nearby house and the driveway where the daughter lies. As Shane nears the tape all the people infront of him move out of his way. Though they never look back at him they seem to know he's there and instinctivley move from his path.

Shane: So, Diablo, you made your way up to see Brandon Sinclair. I guess I shouldn't have expected any less from you. You two always had a similar frame of mind, which explaines KOA. You made it clear you didn't need his help but you went anyway. You had to check you're theories with someone who really knows me, didn't you. I don't blame you Diablo. If I were facing something that truly posed a threat to me then I'd run to the best information source I could find, just to make sure I went up against it as prepared as I could be.

As Shane reaches the front of the crowd he reaches out, pulls up the yellow line of police tape and steps under it. Nearby officer pay no attention. It's as if Shane's a simple gust of wind blowing through the scene. He goes unnoticed and unheard by all but the people he's chosen to hear him.

Shane: I guess I should feel honoured that you view me as such a big threat to you. You said it yourself, Amusa and Arioch didn't measure up. As for your last match it was clear that Moreno and Star were below your level. Most your other matches and opponents were just cheap obstacles tossed in front of you to make you look good as champion. I'm your first real challenger, aren't I. If I walk out of our match a winner then I figure that would make me number one contender for your title....wouldn't it. It's not something you'd be looking foreward to happening. You want me as number one contender as much as you want the IRS to reposses your house.

Shane slowly crosses the front lawn. As he reaches the edge of the grass he pauses a moment before stepping onto the black top driveway. He moves up to the girl's lifeless body and stands staring down at it.

Shane: Dead am I? Dead as the ICWA. Or maybe I'm as dead as both you and Brandon were Diablo. I'ts funny how you two have brought something to light with that discussion about faking your own deaths. I wonder, Diablo, does slight of hand run in the family? You faked your death, so the same might be said about your brother, right. After all Azazel didn't even of to the trouble of making it appear as if he'd left a corpse, he simply vanished in an explosion and a puff of smoke. Maybe that's something you should keep in mind, just tuck it away somewhere in the back of your brain because it may come up again.

Shane smiles breifly. Slowly he crouches down next to the girl's body. He reaches out and carefully brushes a strand of hair off her face, then he caresses his hand down the side of her cheek.

Shane: You know, Diablo, chances are it's going to be just you and me fighting for that whole match. Nobody has any reason to interfear, nobody has a reason to cost you, or me, that match. It'll be you and me face to face, neither of us will have anything to lose but our pride. At times pride is more important than gold. Gold is an object, it's wealth. Pride, on the other hand, is a part of you, it holds a far greater value than any collection of objects ever could.

As Shane's fingers progress down the girl's cheek she suddenly opens her eyes. Something, deep in Shane's eyes, seems to sparkle. Carfeully the girl sits up. Her wound, on her back, is gone leaving nothing but a hole in her clothes. Unsure of what happened the girl frantically searches for her parents among the sea of police officers and by-standers. Suddenly a woman's voice can be heard whailing, it's the girl's mother. Quickly the girl gets to her feet, she sprints across the lawn to the frontdoor where her parents stand. She reaches out to hug them but her arms pass through her mother and father like air. She tries again but she can't grab them, she can't pull them close and feel their warmth. Not knowing what to do she turns back to where Shane still crouches and that's when she understands. Her body still lays in the driveway.

Shane: No matter how our match ends I'm not going away, Diablo. If you want you can go back and talk to Brandon again, see if you can dig up anything else. I'll even give you the phone numbers for everyone else that's had a major role in my life. You want to talk to Mike Manson, the man I fought through three different federations, he might remember something that Brandon forgot. You want to call up Aristotle Wilde, the man who first got me into the business, he might have tip for you. Send an email to Joe O'Brien, the man who allowed me to make it big, he might let you in on a secret or two. Regardless of who you talk to Diablo you must know that you'll never know me 100%. There'll always be something that you don't know or that will surprise you. Keep this in mind, cause you'll never put your finger one me.

Shane stands up and begins walking away from the girl's body. On the lawn a small line of light shines down where the girl's translucent form stands, once the light touches her she beings to fade away. As Shane moves down the driveway he steps in a stream of the girl's blood. For a second the print of his boot is visible in the blood before it's seemingly washed away.