This was it - the day had come. All Astrid could hope for was that she would be ready.
She thought this would all be simple. Following her loss to Astrid Arvidsson at We Are LAW, the Norsewoman had
made an appearance to address how she would be moving forward after giving up her title of LAW Heavyweight Champion, and shortly thereafter failing to recapture the glory by taking the Openweight Championship instead. Astrid didn't like to confront these things. She didn't like to admit her weakness, or to speak up about how she just hadn't been enough to make good on her pledge to herself. She was already grappling with that sense of loss, of inadequacy, of uncertainty in her own future, ever since she had lost the title, and putting that into words just made it sting that much more. But it had to be done, she told herself - it was the only way she could get closure, and hopefully move on.
But closure was about the last thing Astrid was going to get that night. She intended to leave things there - only for a few unwelcome guests to make their presence known. Lyra Heartfield and her fellow members of the Selection - the seemingly unstoppable, almost supernatural force that seemed hell-bent on taking over LAW and bending its wrestlers to its will - had shown up, taunting Astrid about all her doubts and her failures. It seemed like they knew exactly what it was that Astrid was so afraid of - and worse, they were willing to use that very fear as a weapon against her. She'd left the arena bruised that day, but the true blow the Selection had inflicted wasn't anything they'd done to her body. It was the reason she was here in Baltimore right now - the challenge they had issued for Astrid to face off against Lyra, in a Falls Count Anywhere match at Nightmare on LAW Street. And if Astrid failed...she would have no choice but to join the Selection herself.
The Norwegian would never allow herself to go with them if not by force. She couldn't stand for their use of such underhanded tactics as ganging up on their opponents and deluding them with trickery and illusions. Nor was she going to abide by how they had gone after her daughter Sarabeth when she tried to stand up for Astrid. But going into this match, it wasn't revenge on Astrid's mind, or the promise of setting the matter right; of showing everyone she still had what it took to succeed after all. She wasn't in this because she wanted to. She was in this because she
had to - she couldn't let anyone think that the Selection had gotten to her. And she couldn't let them win. The Selection was all but convinced that Astrid had fallen right into the palm of their hands. Astrid just hoped she could prove them wrong.
The battle ahead of her would be a hard one; Astrid already knew that. She'd already had a taste of what the Selection was capable of when they had used sounds and special effects to daze and disorient her, and when they sent their minions to gang up on her while she was lost in a haze. So too, the stakes of this match, for Astrid, had never been higher - it wasn't a belt or bragging rights or a payday on the line; it was Astrid's very understanding of who she was. She couldn't lose this - she shuddered to even think of what might happen if she did. But she told herself she would face this like any other match - she would do her best, and carry on with all the passion and heart she had. If anything, she could take that threat of what awaited her if she lost and use it to fuel her will to fight back. She just hoped that would be enough.
"Coming first to the ring, from Stavanger, Norway! At 6'1, weighing 188 pounds, AAAASTRID OSTBERG!!"
The music that blared over the speakers was nothing new to the many fans Astrid had made over her title run, and already the stadium had lit up wth cheers. But for once, the glory and honor of her reign wasn't on Astrid's mind as she trudged her way to the Gorilla position, stopping and wincing at the sight of a poster advertising tonight's main event with Astrid Arvidsson taking on GASTER on the way. Nevertheless, she cleared her throat, throwing the curtains aside and storming onto the entrance ramp. Her eyes were narrowed in a steely glare, and her muscles were tense as she made her way to the ring. Astrid had no time for showboating or flexing or waving to the fans tonight. All she had on her mind was the hope that whatever she'd do would be enough to save her.