The Genesis Dome still carries the echo of tonight.
Pyro smoke clings faintly to the rafters. Folding chairs creak under tired press members and a few remaining fans who managed to stay past curfew just to see what comes next. The HVW banner behind the stage is slightly askew—like even the building itself is still recovering from its first war.
A narrow press stage has been assembled in front of it. Two podiums. Left: The Sheriff. Right: The Hacker.
The contrast is immediate. One wears dust, denim, and daylight authority. The other stands in clean black techwear, face partially lit by the glow of a small embedded display in the podium itself.
The Sheriff leans forward. The Hacker doesn’t move. A reporter stands.
Reporter: “Sheriff—what does this say about HVW’s future after Destiny’s Divide? And more importantly, who are Marilyn Matthews, Adam Hensen and Jace Parker Davidson?”
The Sheriff exhales through a grin.
The Sheriff: “It says we’re growin’ faster than I probably budgeted for.”
A few laughs ripple through the room.
The Sheriff: “And as for the names you just listed… they’re signed. They’re here. And they’ll be showin’ up on Saturday Night and Evolution real soon enough for everybody to stop askin’ me and start askin’ them.”
He adjusts his hat.
The Sheriff: “That’s the fun part of this business. New faces don’t stay new for long.”
Another reporter immediately follows.
Reporter: “There are rumors of new championships—No Limits, Alliance—are those real?”
The Sheriff opens his mouth—
The Hacker cuts in immediately.
Hacker: “Rumors are such a primitive form of communication.”
The room goes quiet.
The Hacker tilts his head slightly.
Hacker: “But yes. They are real. And they are inevitable.”
A pause.
Hacker: “Unlike most of what this man calls ‘structure,’ I prefer evolution through expansion.”
The Sheriff narrows his eyes but says nothing yet.
Another reporter speaks up.
Reporter: “Who’s in the Six Guns and Sinners matches?”
The Sheriff leans into the mic—
Hacker again.
Hacker: “Everyone always asks who. Never why.”
A beat.
Hacker: “Because the answer is simple. Survival.”
He finally looks toward the crowd.
Hacker: “Three teams. Elimination. Ladder cage. Crown of Legends implications.”
A faint smile.
Hacker: “I’ve already seen the future. They should be more concerned about whether they’re still standing in it.”
The Sheriff clears his throat loudly.
The Sheriff: “Alright, that’s enough poetry.”
The crowd chuckles.
The Sheriff: “Six Guns and Sinners is comin’. And like I said earlier tonight, we’ve got one match that’s Saturday Night versus Evolution.”
He taps the podium.
The Sheriff: “Another that’s HVW versus the WORLD.”
A murmur runs through the room.
The Sheriff: “And one more… that ain’t for me or him to spoil yet.”
He nods toward the Hacker.
The Hacker doesn’t react.
The Sheriff continues.
The Sheriff: “But we will be watchin’ every single match this week before we decide who gets in those teams. Nobody is safe. Nobody is pre-picked. You earn it or you watch it from home.”
A camera flash pops.
Then—
The Hacker finally speaks again.
Hacker: “And speaking of earning things…”
A pause.
The Hacker: “The World Champion.”
A ripple through the room immediately.
Hacker: “You saw my first draft pick. You saw the result.”
A slow turn of his head.
Hacker: “Dan Highlander.”
The moment his name lands—
The side doors of the Genesis Dome open.
Cheers erupt from outside.
Dan Highlander steps into view.
Still carrying the HVW World Championship over his shoulder.
He pauses at the entrance like he’s not entirely sure he belongs here yet.
The Hacker watches him like a calculated outcome made flesh.
The Sheriff watches him like a man trying not to smile too obviously.
Highlander walks to the stage.
He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t pose.
Just climbs up and stands between them, looking out at the remaining crowd.
Dan Highlander: “I’m not gonna lie… this is still sinking in.”
A small chuckle from the press.
Dan Highlander: “But I heard every word tonight.”
He shifts the championship slightly.
Dan Highlander: “And whether I like how I got here or not… I’m the HVW World Champion.”
He looks toward the fans outside.
Dan Highlander: “And I’m not running from that responsibility.”
Applause builds.
Then—
A shift in tone.
Boos start creeping in.
Danielle Page steps onto the stage.
The reaction turns instantly.
She doesn’t wait.
Danielle Page: “Oh, please.”
She points toward Highlander’s title.
Danielle Page: “That does not belong to you.”
The crowd noise sharpens.
Danielle Page: “Griffin Hawkins spent that entire match making sure I didn’t leave Destiny’s Divide with what I earned.”
She turns toward the Sheriff.
Danielle Page: “Vacate it.”
A sharp pause.
Danielle Page: “Right now.”
The room goes still.
The Sheriff looks at her.
Sheriff: “No.”
Simple.
Clean.
Immediate.
Danielle blinks, offended more than surprised.
Danielle Page: “Then give me a rematch. Saturday Night. I don’t care where.”
The Sheriff exhales.
Sheriff: “No.”
Another pause.
Sheriff: “Dan’s been drafted to Evolution on Tuesdays. That match ain’t happening on Saturday Night.”
A beat.
Danielle’s expression tightens.
Danielle Page: “So that’s it?”
She gestures wildly between them.
Danielle Page: “He just walks away with it because of some draft nonsense?”
Highlander shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t interrupt.
Danielle steps forward again.
Danielle Page: “This isn’t over.”
She turns sharply and storms off stage as boos rain down behind her.
The silence returns slowly.
Highlander looks down at the title.
Then at the crowd.
Dan Highlander: “I’ll say this once.”
A pause.
Dan Highlander: “I didn’t ask for shortcuts. I didn’t ask for a draft. But I’m not handing this back either.”
He nods toward the fans.
Dan Highlander: “Thank you.”
And just like that, he leaves the stage to applause.
The Sheriff watches him go.
Then turns back to the room.
Sheriff: “Alright.”
He exhales.
Sheriff: “Now that we got that drama outta the way…”
A faint grin returns.
Sheriff: “Let’s talk about championships.”
He gestures offstage.
Old Redhook steps into view.
The Territory Champion.
Massive.
Silent.
Unmoved by anything in the room.
Mostly boos greet him.
He doesn’t acknowledge them.
He doesn’t acknowledge anyone.
The Sheriff just nods.
Sheriff: “That there is Redhook. Territory Champion. And the backbone of the red brand.”
Redhook stares forward like a storm waiting for permission.
No words.
No expression.
Just presence.
Then—
The Sheriff gestures again.
Sheriff: “And now… Heroes & Villains Wrestling’s newest champion.”
A beat.
Sheriff: “A title that travels.”
Sheriff: “A title that doesn’t belong to one show.”
He smiles wider.
Sheriff: “Jason Cashe.”
The room shifts immediately.
Cashe steps out.
Crowd reaction: loud, mixed, alive.
He doesn’t take the mic.
Doesn’t acknowledge the podiums.
He just walks straight up to Redhook.
Face to face.
Champion to champion.
No words.
Just tension.
The room goes quiet enough to hear camera shutters.
Redhook doesn’t move.
Cashe doesn’t blink.
A long, deliberate silence.
Then the Sheriff steps between them, palms out.
Sheriff: “Easy now. That’s a future headache I ain’t scheduling tonight.”
Cashe smirks slightly.
Redhook doesn’t react at all.
They separate.
The Hacker watches all of it with quiet approval.
Then he steps forward.
Hacker: “Efficient chaos.”
A pause.
Hacker: “The Sheriff and I have, unfortunately, agreed on something.”
The Sheriff groans slightly.
Hacker continues.
Hacker: “Six Guns and Sinners is not just an event. It is a restructuring of identity.”
He folds his hands.
Hacker: “Three matches. Three philosophies.”
The Sheriff takes over without hesitation.
Sheriff: “One match—Saturday Night versus Evolution. Brand pride. Ego. Survival.”
He nods.
Sheriff: “Another—HVW versus the world. You think you belong here? Prove it.”
The Hacker nods slightly at that one.
Sheriff: “And the third?”
A pause.
Sheriff: “That one stays under lock and key.”
The Hacker actually applauds once.
Slow.
Controlled.
Hacker: “Finally. A secret worth keeping.”
Then—
Hacker: “Before we end this…”
The room quiets again.
Hacker: “Two championships are coming.”
A shift in tone.
Hacker: “The No Limits Championship.”
He smiles faintly.
Hacker: “Exclusive to Evolution. No weight limits. No restrictions. No excuses.”
He glances toward the Sheriff.
Hacker: “A direct response to… certain decisions.”
Sheriff scoffs but doesn’t interrupt.
Hacker: “And…”
He leans forward slightly.
Hacker: “The Alliance Championship.”
Hacker: “Tag teams. Traveling champions. Saturday Night. Evolution. Everywhere.”
A pause.
Hacker: “Because control… is best shared.”
The Sheriff steps in immediately.
Sheriff: “And I’ll say it plain.”
He looks out at the room.
Sheriff: “Those belts don’t belong to one show. And neither does HVW.”
He nods toward the crowd.
Sheriff: “We’re just gettin’ started. Evolution Tuesday. Saturday Night this weekend. Six Guns and Sinners comin’ up next.”
A final grin.
Sheriff: “Y’all wanted a new wrestling world.”
He taps the podium.
Sheriff: “Well… welcome to it.”
The Hacker tilts his head.
Almost like a nod.
Almost like respect.
The cameras keep flashing as the press conference fades in noise, tension, and the unmistakable feeling that Destiny’s Divide didn’t end anything—
It just opened the door.