The day is June 6 in the year 1944. In time it will become known as D-Day, near the end of World War II. Currently, the Allied boats linger off the coast of France. Shortly after midnight, air assault troops from the American, British, and Free French airborne units had been dropped onto the shores of Normandy as part of Operation Overlord to clear the way for the waiting invasion. Nearly two hundred thousand Allied troops from around the globe now stand ready, carried on over five thousand ships. By its end, the Allied invasion of German held western Europe will be supported by army, marine, and naval forces from a dozen countries and three continents.

For the pending initial landings, seven militaries are represented: the United Kingdom, United States, Canada, Free France, Poland, Norway, and Australia. In mere minutes, these thousands of troops will storm onto the beaches of Normandy. The coast of Normandy was divided into five sectors: Utah Beach, Omaha Beach, Gold Beach, Juno Beach, and Sword Beach.

An unseen red mist hangs over the beach of Sword, floating just above the wet sands. Behind that mist a black shadow seems to levitate high above the beach. A curve resembling a smile opens up at the "head" of the red mist. Though neither the mist nor the empty "mouth" move, its words are heard loud and clear.

"We will start the war from right here. Such were the words famously spoken by Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. Indeed, an epic battle is about to begin on these shores. For years World War II has raged. Now the Allied Forces stand prepared to fire the shot that will penetrate clean through to the heart of Germany and ultimately bring down 'der Führer' himself. With Europe liberated, all that stood between the Allies and victory was the powerful and resilient military regime of Japan.

The Allied invasion is being led by another famous American, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the Allied Expeditionary Force Supreme Commander and future President of the United States.

Being that I am War, I take no sides. I only take delight in the coming destruction. Heavy casualties will befall both sides, even in a 'decisive' Allied victory. Death awaits many, as an inevitable consequence of War.

The reaper watches, emotionless and indifferent. He knows what I know. His work will be long and arduous on this day and in the coming weeks. Much blood will be shed before the invasion is completed. Death is an equal opportunity entity, giving special treatment to no living thing. After all, Death is the ultimate consequence and the ultimate reward for Life."

The reports of rifles and machine guns ring out as the first Allied ships reach the shores of Sword and elsewhere. The black shadow springs rapidly from one beach to another as the bodies begin to drop on both sides. Some Allied troops are cutdown before they can even wade their way out of the ocean and onto the beach.

"Yes, alas, the War has begun. It is the beginning of the end. Allied victory will be hard earned, but guaranteed. The Axis will crumble fast and hard."

The scene fades to RED.

Date: 25 June 2010
Time: 2222 Hours Eastern Daylight Time

It is Friday, and Josh Konnely sits on the cobblestones outside of the Arena at Harbor Yard in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Around him, the damage can still be seen from the F1 tornado which struck the city earlier in the week. Above, a crimson moon hangs in the sky.

"Once again War will ride. A Revelation is coming to SFT at the appropriately named Apocalypse Now pay-per-view.

I must face Michael Orton in a number one contender's match to determine the next challenger for the National Championship. To be perfectly honest, it feels like we have done this little dance before. The same old song, the same old dance.

It appears that while Revelation has been gone, Michael Orton has stepped up his game and vastly improved. I can see he is no longer the pushover he once seemed. He has advanced beyond talking about how he's going to 'give his promo' and 'beat someone's punk ass' and 'insert random cliche insult here.' His father is already calling him the champion, in reference to the National Championship currently held by Saint Jude.

While I respect Michael's leaps and bounds towards actual talent and competitiveness, there are two obstacles in his way before that becomes a reality. Myself and Jude, two former World Heavyweight Champions. Not only must Michael Orton win two matches before he becomes the champion, he must first worry about surviving the Apocalypse.

Indeed the Apocalypse is coming, and the horsemen are ready to ride. Michael Orton has to survive me first, and defeat me second. That is not an empty threat or lame cliche. It is the reality of the situation. I don't think Michael Orton realizes the gravity of Apocalypse.

It has been several weeks since I have given out a beating and choked someone out. My mind and soul crave the competition and the destruction. Pain is the name of my game, and I live to pass it out. I live to hand out judgment to the sinful.

Michael, you have said that I am at a severe risk of dying 'without even living.' But as you said yourself, risk is merely an illusion. Especially a risk of dying. How can there be a risk of dying? That is like a risk of paying taxes. The IRS takes that stuff right out of your check before you even get paid. There can be no 'risk' of dying. For all living things, Death is certain and absolute.

Have I lived? Not in every sense, perhaps. I have no wife or children. But I am a two-time World Heavyweight Champion. When last I held the title, my reign lasted months and seemed as though it would never end. What better life can there be than being the very best in the world at what you do?

'Control is an illusion,' you say? Now that's good for a laugh. You call me a clown. I am no clown. I am War. I am a destroyer of men and of nations. I am nothing to be laughed at or scoffed at. There is nothing silly or humorous about me and Revelation. You call control is an illusion, but when you get in the ring with me you will see just how real control can be. I will be in complete and absolute control from the first bell until I squeeze the last breath out of your lungs.

Ironically, I was the man that was scheduled to face Saint Jude for the contendership prior to him winning the National Championship. Instead, I chose to ambush and destroy Jude before the match even started. As a result, Jude was awarded the shot at the title and he cashed it in.

I had nothing to prove to Saint Jude. I spent a seemingly endless title reign as SFT Champion destroying one member of The Wall after another. Twilight, T.K., Redd, Jack, and Jude. It seemed almost every title defense was against some brick-head from The Wall. I should not have had to prove that I was better than he. It should have been given. It should have been accepted as fact. I should not have had to face Saint Jude or anybody else to 'earn' any title shot. It was not fair that I be forced to fight a clearly inferior opponent just to get a National Championship match. I never even had a rematch for the World Championship, and they tried to make me wrestle Jude just to receive a National Title shot. I felt disrespected, and so I destroyed Saint Jude to prove a point.

Now, on the other hand, I have not been in action in close to or more than a month. So now I can understand facing a much improved but still inferior Michael Orton. I must show that I can perform like a champion after three weeks or more without a match.

I can break you, Michael. I can destroy you. I certainly do not need weapons to do so, either. My brawling expertise and submission prowess are all I need to take down any man. I am rarely the biggest or the strongest or the fastest dog in the fight. But the fight within me is far larger than anybody else in that or any locker room.

I look forward to meeting you again, Michael. With the strides of improvement that you have made, your head has swollen with self-confidence and pride. Me, I'm the perfect guy to deflate your ego with a little Egocide. I can only hope you realize that hurting you is my primary goal; defeating you is only secondary.

It's really nothing personal. I cannot say that I dislike you. Hell, I hardly even know you. It is just who I am. I am driven by rage and by competition. Rage first. Competition second. I must remind not only you but all of Strike Towers just who I am, what kind of man I am, and what I am capable of. You are just the lamb that SFT has chosen for the slaughter.

Look on the bright side, Mikey. An Apocalypse is coming. An Apocalypse is here. The Apocalypse is Now. When I destroy you and defeat you at Apocalypse Now, you will not be around to suffer under the Revelation and the coming Apocalypse."

Josh stands and the scene fades to red once again.