The haunting tones of Lucifer’s Waltz by Succession Studios echo through the arena as the lights dim. The crowd stirs in confusion and curiosity. A man steps onto the stage, hood pulled low, the Supreme Championship casually draped over his shoulder.

Chad Darby: That’s him. That’s the man who knocked out Jason Styles four days ago on Carnage to become the Supreme Champion. But who is he?

The figure moves toward the ring, his presence commanding silence from the crowd. He climbs the steps, stepping between the ropes with deliberate calm, and stands in the center of the ring. Slowly, he pulls back the hood, revealing an unfamiliar face to the JWF audience. Underneath the black hoodie, a red polo shirt gleams under the lights.

Chad Darby: A red polo shirt? What kind of statement is this guy trying to make?

The man reaches for a microphone, raising it to his lips.

???: Y'all can call me Red Shirt.

The declaration is simple but said with chilling authority.

Chad Darby: Red Shirt? That’s his name?

Red Shirt scans the crowd, the Supreme Championship shining over his shoulder.

Red Shirt: You don’t know me yet. But you will.

The audience murmurs as Red Shirt lowers the mic, taking a moment to let his presence settle in.

Red Shirt: Four days ago, Jason Styles was just the first. Everyone here will soon understand—ain't no heroes, ain't no saviors. Only me.

The crowd boos, but Red Shirt doesn’t flinch.

Red Shirt: Remember the name. Red Shirt. The man who don't just take opportunities... I MAKE 'em.

He tosses the mic to the mat and raises the Supreme Championship high as his theme hits again.

Chad Darby: Well, there you have it, folks. Red Shirt has arrived, and he’s already made an impact. But what’s next for this man?

As Red Shirt raises the Supreme Championship once more, the crowd erupts with a mixed chorus of boos and stunned silence. The moment is interrupted as Jason Styles’ theme music blares through the arena.

Chad Darby: Here comes the former Supreme Champion! Jason Styles isn’t waiting for any invitation!

Jason marches down the ramp, fire in his eyes, and a microphone in his hand. The crowd cheers, expecting an intense confrontation. But as he reaches the ring, he doesn’t stop to talk. He tosses the microphone to the ground and slides in under the ropes, immediately charging Red Shirt.

Jason throws wild punches, hammering away at Red Shirt with everything he has.

Chad Darby: Jason Styles isn’t here to talk! He’s here to fight!

The flurry of punches forces Red Shirt back into the corner, but the Supreme Champion quickly counters. He shoves Jason away and fires back with a stiff forearm, stopping Jason’s momentum cold.

Red Shirt follows up with a punishing knee to the gut, doubling Jason over. With calculated ferocity, he grabs Jason by the head and throws him into the turnbuckle, then starts delivering crushing shoulder thrusts to the midsection.

Chad Darby: Red Shirt’s just dismantling Jason Styles! This is brutal!

Jason tries to fight back, landing a few desperate strikes, but Red Shirt levels him with a devastating uppercut. Jason collapses to the mat, dazed.

The Supreme Champion takes a step back, measuring his opponent, then delivers a thunderous punch to Jason’s jaw. The impact is so powerful that Jason crumples to the canvas, unconscious.

Chad Darby: One punch! Red Shirt just knocked out Jason Styles again!

The crowd gasps as Red Shirt doesn’t stop there. He slides out of the ring, pulling a table from under the apron.

Chad Darby: Oh no, come on! This isn’t enough for him?

Red Shirt sets up the table at ringside, then hauls Jason’s limp body out of the ring. With ease, he powerbombs Jason through the table, sending splinters flying.

The destruction doesn’t end. Red Shirt retrieves another table, sets it up, and delivers another powerbomb to Jason. Then another table. And another.

Chad Darby: That’s four tables! Somebody stop this man!

Red Shirt sets up a fifth table, dragging Jason’s lifeless body over once more. He lifts Jason high and slams him through the final table, leaving nothing but carnage around the ring.

The crowd is stunned into silence as Red Shirt looks around for more. He checks under the ring but finds it empty. Shrugging, he dusts his hands off and picks up his Supreme Championship.

Chad Darby: He’s destroyed Jason Styles and every table in sight! What kind of message is Red Shirt trying to send here?

Red Shirt slings the title over his shoulder, stepping over the debris as he heads back up the ramp, unbothered and dominant. The last image before the screen fades is Jason Styles lying amidst the wreckage, motionless.