Fall of Rome
“A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has conquered itself from within.”
All roads led to Rome.
It was the very centre of the world. The greatest empire that the world has and will ever know.
Stretching for some 2.3 million miles at its peak, as far as the East is from the West.
The Roman Empire is synonymous with greatness, power and authority. For that is how their empire was built and maintained. On the strength of their army and the power of their politics.
Rome believed itself to be impenetrable. There was a swagger and an ego that went along with the title of Ceasar. To lead Rome was to be compared as a god.
But the bigger they are, the harder they fall.
The bigger they became, the more their legacy grew, the thinner Rome stretched itself.
Groups of Barbarians and other civilizations formed at the gates, each vying for political power. Rome’s own ego and power inevitably pushed itself closer to its own demise.
All the power in the world couldn’t stop it.
And Rome fell.
The barbarians gather at the gate of the Slaughterhouse, each chipping away at the same goal. To see the fall of the Bad Mother Fucker Empire.
Luke Storm, Pyre and Zero… Three Ceasars that have built their legacy on their strength and unity, and all the ego and swagger that goes along with that.
Since their formation, they have grown their empire till it stretches as far as the East is from the West.
Old School Wrestling has seen its share of Empires. From the days of the Asylum, the Family, the Vindicators… But even the brightest have never shone as brightly as yours.
You are as Rome was. All powerful.
Or so they thought.
The wagons are circling. The barbarians gather to see you falter. Your downfall began with Simon, with Jet Set Radio.
It has seen Luke Storm weakened, sickened.
It has seen Pyre jailed, and her fire raging out of control in desperation.
It cost you Albert Shaw.
An empire conquering itself from the inside out.
The writing is on the wall – all roads lead to Triosmania, where your downfall begins.
And while groups of Barbarians gather, nipping at your heels in Triosmania, Vayikra is no mere group of barbarians.
Vayikra will be the one to topple the great Roman Empire.
WE are the Gothic.
Those that are ready to take the place of your empire, to crumble your walls and end your reign.
I wear the proof of Vayikra’s right to your throne around my waist.
A championship whose legacy was built on your shoulders Zero, taken from the grasp of Storm.
And the Empire crumbles.
My claim to the throne, the belt that neither your Empire or Simon’s could take away from me.
WE are unified under one mission. A powerhouse under the tutelage of Sir Vant ready to take control.
Vayikra will be the one to tumble the empire and stand in its place.
As God wills, so it will be.