[NXT- Oct. 8, 2024]

The next edition of NXT opened with a recap of John Super’s shocking debut and North American Championship victory. The commentary team hyped up the new champion’s first full night as champion, teasing potential challengers.

Later in the show, GM Ava was shown backstage in her office, standing behind her desk with a confident smirk. A knock on the door.

Ava: Come in.

John Super walked in, the North American Championship draped over his shoulder, his calm demeanor matched by the confidence in his stride. Ava looked up, her smirk widening as he stepped inside. She gestured toward the chair in front of her desk.

Ava: Take a seat.

Super glanced at the chair but stayed on his feet, towering over the desk.

Super: I’m good standing.

Ava: Suit yourself. First off, congratulations. You walked in here, made a statement, and now you’ve got gold on your shoulder. Not bad for your first night.

Super: Thanks. But I’m guessing you didn’t call me in here just to hand out compliments.

Ava: Sharp. No, I didn’t. See, being champion isn’t just about walking around with a shiny title. It’s about defending it. Proving you deserve it.

Super: So that's what this is about. You got someone lined up already?

Ava: Oh, I’ve got someone. Wes Lee.

Super: Wes Lee, huh? Quick, technical, high-flyer. Good choice.

Ava: Glad you think so, because you’ll be defending that title against him two weeks from Sunday at Halloween Havoc.

Super: Halloween Havoc. Big stage. Works for me.

Ava leaned forward, her expression serious now.

Ava: Good, because Wes? He’s not like Oba. He’s faster, smarter, unpredictable. You won’t be able to just overpower him.

Super: Don’t worry about me. I’ll be ready.

Ava: I’m not worried. But make no mistake, this isn’t just about you or Wes. This is about proving what kind of champion you’re going to be. NXT is entering a new era, and all eyes are on you. Don’t screw it up.

Super smirked, adjusting the title on his shoulder.

Super: Pressure’s nothing new to me. I’ll handle it.

Ava leaned back in her chair, watching as Super turned and headed for the door.

Ava: We’ll see. Good luck, champ.

Super stopped at the door, glancing back.

Super: Luck’s for people who aren’t ready.

With that, he walked out, leaving Ava sitting behind her desk, her confident smirk slowly returning.

---

The camera cut to the ring as the arena lights dimmed, and the crowd buzzed with anticipation. John Super’s music hit, and the new North American Champion walked out onto the stage, the title slung over his shoulder. He paused, surveying the crowd with a cool, confident smirk before making his way down the ramp, soaking in the atmosphere.

He climbed into the ring, grabbed the mic from the ring announcer, and stood tall in the center, eyes locked on the camera.

Super: Two weeks from Sunday, Halloween Havoc. My first title defense. And it’s against Wes Lee. A guy who likes to think of himself as the “underdog.” A guy who thinks speed and agility can win him a title. But let’s be real here—this isn’t about speed. This is about power. And right now, the only thing that’s going to matter in that ring is what I bring to the table.  And if Wes thinks he can run circles around me, he’s got another thing coming.

The crowd cheered, but Super didn’t pause for a reaction. His eyes never left the camera, the confidence in his voice unwavering.

Super: I didn’t come here to be anyone’s stepping stone. I didn’t come here to play games. I came here to take what’s mine—and that North American Championship? It’s staying right here, around my waist. No one’s taking it from me. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.

Super paced the ring, his words flowing with intensity.

Super: So Wes, you want a shot at me? You want to prove you belong? Fine. But understand this—you’re not just stepping into the ring with a guy who holds a title. You’re stepping into the ring with a force of nature. And when that bell rings? I’m taking you down, and I’m keeping this belt. Get ready, Wes. You’ve got a storm coming.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the crowd's attention shifted. Before Super could react, a figure emerged from the shadows, stepping out from the backstage area with an icy glare. It was Wes Lee—but not the Wes Lee everyone knew. This was a new, more intense, more aggressive version. His eyes burned with fury, his jaw clenched as he made his way down the ramp.

As Wes reached the ringside area, Super didn't notice until it was too late. Wes charged, sliding into the ring and catching Super off guard. In a blur of motion, Wes hit Super with a brutal dropkick, sending him crashing into the ropes. The impact rattled Super, and before he could regain his balance, Wes was already on top of him, hammering away with fists and boots.

The crowd erupted, booing the attack, but Wes didn’t care. He was in a rage, striking relentlessly, his aggression sharper than ever. Super fought back, trying to block Wes’ attacks, but Wes was relentless—his newfound aggression overwhelming.

Wes pulled Super up and tossed him across the ring, sending him crashing into the turnbuckle with a vicious Irish whip. Super stumbled out, dazed, and Wes didn’t hesitate, charging in with a running knee to the face. Super dropped to the mat, clutching his face in pain.

Wes stood over him, breathing heavily, eyes wild with fury. He grabbed the mic from the floor and brought it to his lips.

Wes: You want to talk about storms, Super? I am the storm. And I’m gonna make sure your first defense is your last, bitch.

The crowd reacted with shock as Wes threw the mic down at Super, staring down at him as he was struggling to get to his feet. With one last look of contempt, Wes exited the ring, leaving the North American Champion lying there, vulnerable and furious.

As Wes disappeared backstage, Super sat up, anger flashing in his eyes. He slowly rose to his feet, the weight of the attack settling in—but a fire lit in him. Halloween Havoc had just become a whole lot more personal.