Dr. Cube
Game Over
In this business, most conflicts demand a story.
Someone to blame. Someone to resist. Someone the world can point to and say this is where everything went wrong. Lately, that role has been handed to War Machine. The disruptors. The villains.
The ones who crushed Ziggy’s optimism, displaced Pixelshift from the moment he believed defined him, and unraveled Edward’s careful attempts to control the narrative.
You tell yourselves this match is our reckoning.
A chance for Ziggy to prove positivity can outlast pressure. A chance for Pixelshift to reclaim the chapter that slipped away when momentum failed him. A chance for Edward to stand above the chaos he insists he understands better than anyone else.
But War Machine does not arrive here searching for closure. Not truly.
We arrive here for business.
Ziggy, you believe adversity exists to be reshaped. Every time we cut through your speeches, you answered with another lesson. Another reason to keep believing the environment would eventually respond to you. You think War Games is where optimism finally proves its worth. But we never tried to silence you because we feared your message. We did it because your certainty makes you predictable—and predictable outcomes are easy to control.
Pixelshift, you call this unfinished business. Ever since Wrestle Heroes, you’ve moved like someone chasing a correction—convinced that forward motion alone can restore what you believe was taken. It’s so important to you, in fact, that scrutiny becomes secondary. Even when the path places you beside someone built entirely on misdirection. You expect this match to be balance restored. But what you call injustice was simply timing—an opening you left behind when progress mattered more than awareness.
Edward, you tried to stand above the board. Stealing my title. Filling the space with confusion. Surrounding yourself with pieces meant to absorb consequences you refused to face directly. Even when challenged, you still feel compelled to prove you’re untouchable. You believe War Games is your moment to prove intellect prevails. Yet every attempt to outmaneuver the structure only tightened it around you. The more you tried to control the narrative from a distance, the more it limited your moves.
You see, each of you walks into War Games carrying a reason—redemption, vindication, pride.
War Machine walks in carrying none of those things.
Nothing meant to happen at War Games belongs to chance. You call us villains because it’s easier than admitting something simpler: you couldn’t accept a world that stopped revolving around you. Every confrontation, every interruption, every attempt to rewrite what happened only pulled you closer to the same inevitable point.
Back to us.
And now… into War Games.
So believe this is your opportunity to right the wrongs in your stories if you must. Believe that this environment exists to give you justice.
But understand that War Machine isn’t here to play a role in your redemption.
We’re here to enforce the outcome your instincts already set in motion.
That’s the game.
And when it ends, it won’t be remembered as a reckoning.
It will be remembered as the moment your stories finally met their natural conclusion.
