As Kasey's theme music fades and the crowd's roar begins to settle, a new melody rises through the arena—regal, commanding, unmistakably aristocratic. Fitting for who's about to enter. The shift in tone sweeps through the audience like a current. People rise from their seats, murmurs turning into excitement and anticipation.
Then, through the curtains, she appears.
"AND HIS OPPONENT! MAKING HER RETURN TO THE WRESTLING WORLD . . . VAYNE!"
The woman once known as the "Queen" of a major U.S. wrestling promotion—its former champion, its defining star. Kasey had read about her before the match, studied her style, her accolades, her reputation, her... scandal. But reading about Vayne and standing across from her were two entirely different things.
Her presence alone radiates authority, elegance, and danger.
And tonight, she is his opponent.
Today marked Vayne's debut—a moment she had been building toward ever since setting foot in Japan. She'd been in the wrestling world long enough to understand the weight of a first appearance. Debuts wasn't just any match; they were statements. The world's first impression. And for the ones who didn't know her name, she would engrave it into their memories tonight.
She hadn't flown across the ocean to falter. She wasn't here to play it safe either. She came to win. To prove that even after everything she'd endured, she still had more to offer, more to show.
And so, despite the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind, Vayne stepped onto the ramp with unwavering poise. Her stride was steady and confident. Not a flicker of doubt. Every movement told the audience exactly what she wanted them to see: a woman who knew her worth, a woman who is going to rebuild herself from the ground up.
Her attire captured that duality perfectly—simple, yet striking, befitting the moniker "Noble Executioner." She wore long, tight black pants that emphasized, paired with a black, X-strapped top that framed her athletic physique. Her blonde hair was braided and bound to keep it from obscuring her vision mid-match. And her boots added just enough height and presence to make her figure impossible to ignore.
As soon as Vayne stepped into the ring, she moved to her corner, fixing Kasey with a sharp, unblinking glare. Then, lifting her hand, she pointed directly at him—an elegant yet chilling gesture—before speaking words meant to either rattle him or send a shiver down his spine.
"Steel yourself, Mr. Crass. I intend to make an example of you."
From the way she spoke, it was clear she'd done her own research on her opponent as well.
