A lament voice is heard echoing out into darkness. 

Narrator:

Whoever appeals to the law against his fellow man is either a fool or a coward. Whoever does not take care of themselves of law is both. For wounded man shall say to his assailant in battle, "if I live I will kill you. If I die you are forgiven." such as the rule of honor and respect.

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Broken the paradigm an example must be set
The tongues of men and angels bought by a beloved betrayer.
I am the result what's better left unspoken

A weakling who has painful moments of reminiscence

A hallucinations of sober individual

what's awakened to cruel reality is your craven.

Violence begins to mend what was broken
You've been talking, I've been all ears.

Daniel De Marco.

Words meant to dwell in darkness shall never see the light of day
Words can be broken, so can bones,

Words slip tongue, so acrid you remonstrate aching for repertoire.

 Words mean nothing with proportion of your beckoning soul aching for desire. A moment your vindictive only flows with vanity shall be detract.

Violence begins to mend what was broken
You've been talking, I've been all ears

The Great Malinko.

Cheaply venal, stupidly verbose
A slip of situation, a slip of disseverment
Seven feet under no marker

Your despair is near.

 A simple malignant virus, a threat, so fragile, can be the most destructive thing when a dormant near.

Your life is ready for disposal

A tomb is prepared for your afterlife.
 You shall fear what’s coming before you.
Keep my name from your mouth forever.
Free speech for the living, dead men tell no tales
You shall rest in peace.

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-Scene Open-

A silent dull, dark, and soundless night, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, he passed, through a singular path, at length he found himself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the workshop. He knows not how it was, but with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded his spirit. He looked upon the scene, upon the mere structure, and the simple landscape features of the domain. Upon the bleak walls, upon the vacant eye-like windows, upon a few rank sewages and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees an utter depression of soul which can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the lair of Guyver himself.

With his soulless cloak blending into the dusking backdrop, his shadow in darkness shifts his way across the ill crossed lawn. Step by step he takes, whistling the tune of a remembered melody. Coming to a verse, he looks up into the cloudily sky and speaks softly.

"One. Two. The Great Malinko, Daniel De Marco, Grizzly Z is coming for you...".

The crooked smile, which accompanies the sadistic, intends of the cloaked many match the intensity of the forcefulness he uses to slide the iron door open.

The room in which he found himself was very large and dusky. The windows were long, narrow, and pointed, and at so vast a distance from the black oaken floor as to be altogether inaccessible from within. Feeble gleams of light made their way through the dust-covered panes, and served to render sufficiently distinct the more prominent objects around the eye. However, struggled the light in vain to reach remote angles of the room and he see recesses vaulted and dilapidated ceiling near him.

Building tools hung upon the walls. Saw’s and fashioning tools to precedent for this craftsman. The general furniture was profuse, comfortless, antique, and tattered. Many books and tools lay scattered about, but failed to give any vitality to the scene. It felt that when breathed an atmosphere of sorrow is consumed with each breath. An air of deep, and irredeemable gloom hung over and surrounded all.

Post examination of the scene determined exactly what he thought, a tragedy. At glance into his cold hands, a chain is wrapped around burnt, disfigured fingers. Deep in the palms rests the lock for the workshop door.

"Three. Four. Better lock your doors..."

Tossed is the useless deterrent into the pile of debris that is this domicile. Where it lands startles the calmness of the surrounding. Metal clanking, followed by a large boom and a cloud of dust.

On examining the table, amid cobwebs, dirt and debris lays a book. Covered with dust of time and raged into neglect, the overseer clutches it in his hands, and brushes the remaining soot to uncover its title.

Holy Bible

Guyver kneel down as he pray.

"Lord, make me hurt The Great Malinko, let me bring down your wrath onto Grizzly Z, let me demolish Daniel De Marco, and lead these men back to their miserable life's of confusion, devastation, and despair. Make them feel the pain that I unleash on the sadistic creatures tomorrow night. And, forgive me of what am about to do to them. Amen."

The silence is replaced by a ghastly chuckle, as he stands, followed by an eerie sentence.

"Five. Six. Better pray and wish..."

Amid glance of replacing the book back onto the table, he noticed an object protruding from the table. His hand reaches out for this round, smooth object. Its recently made grooves are rough, even on the roughest hands. A handle. It appears stuck into this metal table, as though with intention, driven into the edge with great force. With forceful twisting this malicious instrument is set free, as though Excalibur has parted from the stone, and the new king was crowned.

Dark surroundings make it difficult to examine with the castled off light. Its lifted close to the ambiguous figure as the outline of barbed wire nearly touches his face.

"Seven. Eight. Nobody is safe..."

Without warning, he projects the concocted weapon through the window. Rays of moonlight, piercing through the cloudy sky find their way into the eyes of the visitor. Undistinguished in proceed, yet for most recognizable by all. Except for the few who mistake this horror as the result what's better left unspoken!! Violence whisper in echo begins to mend what was nothing except a shadow lurk everywhere, and it’s quiet; real quiet, like a graveyard…DESTORY!... DESTROY!...DESTROY!

He walks quietly to the path of least resistance of back room. The camera gets close to him, the camera pan towards. He sits in shadow as he looks in camera. The camera can only see his glow eyes but rest of his figure is in dark shadow. He begins to speak.

The Guyver: “Malinko, can you hear the violence whisper, is it as simple as you claim it to be? Your tongue, your eyes, your lies, they do deceive you; I stand firm in my solidarity. The path I walk, I walk it with my own resolve and my own vengeance. I am not easily impress with your vanity wordily, Malinko. I’m sure you don’t care about this, but you should. Do you know why? Because when you step in the ring with me, you will have to risk it all to even see a glimmer of hope against me. I don’t care if you are IC Champion. You’ll have to do the impossible to spark that flame of desire. Malinko, you may have to give up your life to make a name on my expense level. Are you ready to take that tough vanity desire with you? Or does the thought in your head of yours make you hesitate? There’s only one way to find out, that’s to put it to the test, which you are not the only one who is put to test in my inferno domain. I will come at you with everything I bring at you. You may think you’ve conquered, but the real bitter truth is you won’t even come close, how pathetic you will feel, how pathetic you must believe that you can live up with that arrogance of yours as purity and worthless deceiver. But then again, I will show you how unbearable it will feel when your end has come, that’s when you’ll understand.” 

Narrator:

Out of those three souls who he shall massacred with his bare hands on the night, one where Inferno will burn like bad breath from hell. The smell of three souls fear, the texture of their pummeled flesh and the destruction of blood flowing through the carver streams, and it will aroma his strength of willpower to their defeatism.

The Guyver: “Grizzly Z, ok, first you claim your superman, then you say your not. You are definitely a lost man. A man that needs guidance, guidance back into the light were your life will be much better. Your far beyond the help of therapists, and doctors though... Tomorrow night, hopefully I am going to knock some sense into. By saying hopefully, I'm not saying that I can't beat you, I can, that is not a question in my mind. I was just saying that because you are a man that is out there, a little too far out their, you know? That's the only way anyone will have a chance at getting you on the right path, but you don’t consider rage a liability?  Well I'm sorry to burst your bubble but it is.  I've been there before, I've got rage every now and then...Hell, anyone does, you know? The only difference between you and me is that you may have rage more often.  It makes you fight with extreme aggression, but you know what. Aggression is another weakness, aggression, makes you really sloppy.  Yeah sure, you’re going to be careless, but that’s also bad, because that will make you lose concentration on your goal here.  You'll try to take it way too far, and cost yourself the match. Obviously I've got one thing that you don't have, a strong heart.  A heart that will do nothing but improve my abilities, cause me less mistakes, and helps me focus far better than your rage could ever do.  My heart enables me to take shots from the best, and it just keep me going. You may have dark heart, but you better be prepared to meet fear, the fear of losing what little you have in life, nothing last’s forever. But that’ won’t stop the inevitable, nothing will stop me from decimating your sorry ass back to where you can carry out your rage in another world for the rest of your miserable life.”

Narrator:

A simply human, a man only bowing and praying forgiveness of the lord, only bowing and defeating the enemies of the lord.

The Guyver: ”Daniel De Marco, you are truly a sad confuse individual. Pain, the feeling of weakness, leaving the body, a feeling that can be learned, such a feeling that strengthen the mind, but your mind is wasted. But what happens when that pain is no longer needed? What happens when the mind can block out pain, and no longer allow it to be felt? When pain is no more, the boundaries of possible are endless. When weakness is no more, your emotions vanish, and heart blackens, that other side, the dark side, is hungrier for desire, a type of desire that prays for this state of mind to end. Some do get better, the ones that want to. Do you want to end this dark and weary past; if you do then you would surely find a way out of it. Well, that is if your heart hasn’t died already. Once that happens you will be lost from the happiness that I reap, on the other hand, you got it all wrong before I came back SFT after six month. But I've been hired to return SFT, and that unfortunate job for the likes involves me kicking your ass! A freedom I do whatever the hell I like outside of SFT is none of your damn business, that’s why they're calling me back...I got life in me to continue on fighting again, and its not watching the people who at very bottom ladder in last six month. I had other business to take of oversea then sitting on my ass and eating junk food, watching you guys fight each week, cause only a twisted fuck like you have no reason to poke around of what I did in the past six month, so get your fact straight before you make wrong conclusion you sorriest son of bitch.”

Narrator:

He will continues destroy the darkness eerie that surrounded his peace but what stopping him is the Revelation...

"So I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and the name of him who sat on it was death, and hades followed with him. " Rev. 6:8

The Guyver: “My final word from my mouth is go ahead guys, give me your best shot, that’s what I have lived for, and will continue to live for. I won't back down, a guarantee; I meant it in your face when each four of us individual fight in the ring. The pain I carry inside is real and come soon you three will experience it for the first time of my return. There is plenty of non-believers here at SFT who doesn't know how wrathful I can be, except for those who met their maker, and one's quick demise their defeatism."

The Light Grew Heavenly bright, whiting out the camera, where the only thing you could see was Guyver's leer and the light shining from his eyes. As quickly as the light shined, it blew out with an explosion and glass hitting the floor. SFT Inferno logo ignited in fire on the farthest wall from the camera, revealing the Inferno: The Night of Fire. The scene slowly fade as the logo burned out.

-Scene Fade-