“What do you believe in?”
Every man has to ask themselves that question. It’s what drives us, what gives us our will.
Belief makes us who we are.
But people believe in different things, don’t they?
Some believe in legacy. They see the lineage they come from, whether blood or creed, and use the power found there to rise above what they would be alone.
Others look to the skies, to place their faith in mighty gods, praying at the altar of one who could deliver them. No longer are their struggles their own. Their fate will be decided by a higher power.
Then there are those that bond together with the likeminded. With strength in numbers, their group becomes their identity, sword and shield against the world.
But the problem with those different kinds of beliefs is that they fail.
All of them.
Sir Bellator, you provide the perfect example.
You started out placing your belief in your legacy. With Lux Bellator’s mask on your face, you were driven by blood and creed to continue his mission.
But just like daddy, you’ve failed. Your beliefs crumbled when tempted by Sir Vant’s offer of glory.
The skies don’t hold any power for you either. No matter how devoutly you pray, Yahweh isn’t coming back.
There’s no higher power to bail you out, as your father was.
So all that’s left for you is Vayikra, your group of likeminded individuals. Y’all swing that sword freely, set apart and shielded in your ignorance.
But even that belief fails you.
Do you really believe Sir Vant sees you as anything other than a pawn? That Vayikra will bring Yahweh back? That they won’t slide their knives in your back?
The problem with your style of beliefs, kid, is that they all look to everybody else to save your ass. When your life is on the line, it ain’t your daddy, Yahweh, or Vayikra that’s going to save you.
You know it, I know it, and they fucking know it.
So that’s what I believe in.
Myself.
My legacy speaks for itself. Gold, crowns, all of it. My lineage was paved brick by goddamned brick by my own hand, drenched in my own blood.
Nobody’s ever come to save me, so I don’t ask. When I think I can’t go any further, I dig down deep inside and find another fucking inch.
And yeah, I got a group. But we didn’t come together because of belief. We ain’t likeminded.
Cause bMf ain’t a belief system, it’s a goddamned lifestyle.
That’s why you can’t hold a candle to me, kid.
You’ll bring your ‘firm beliefs.’
But my unbreakable will will expose them. The same unbreakable will that’s driven me day by day, inch by goddamned inch. It’s why Luke fucking Storm is the realest Mother Fucker you will ever meet.
The only legacy you will know is defeat.
The god you will pray to is Luke Storm.
And as you head to the back of the loser line, there’s only one group you’ll be a part of.
The group of cunts beaten by the Real fucking Deal!