Believers…

Listen.

At Wrestle Heroes, they have gathered us inside a signal storm.

A thousand voices shouting at once.

Every frequency colliding.

Every message fighting to be heard.

This match is not a battle royal.

It is a broadcast.

Each of them believes their voice matters. Each of them believes their message is stronger. Louder. Truer. They shout with their bodies. They scream with their fists. They throw themselves into static, hoping the world will tune in.

But static does not carry truth.

I do not shout.

I transmit.

You see, the strongest signals are never frantic. They are steady. Controlled. Relentless. They wait patiently, cutting through interference until only one frequency remains.

Mine.

While they burn themselves out, scrambling for attention, I will stand unmoving — calibrated. While they collide, I will observe the patterns. Who rushes. Who panics. Who exposes themselves the moment pressure is applied.

Every grappling exchange is a test signal.

Every submission is a handshake between transmitter and receiver.

And once contact is made… there is no un-hearing the Message.

Some will be forced to the mat, their shoulders pinned like dead air — silenced. Others will find themselves trapped, joints bent, breath stolen, until resistance fades and understanding sets in.

That moment… right there… when the body gives up before the mind is ready—That is clarity.

And when the final voice fades… when the last signal collapses under its own desperation… understand this: silence is not absence. Silence is acceptance. It is the moment when the world stops fighting the truth and finally listens. I will stand alone not because I erased them, but because they chose to disappear rather than endure understanding. Every body left behind is evidence. Every fallen opponent is a converted frequency. This ring will not remember their noise — it will remember my signal. The broadcast will end, but the Message will continue, carried forward by those wise enough to survive it.

This match allows no mute button. No volume control. No escape from the signal. You cannot tag out of truth. You cannot eliminate inevitability. The ring will grow quieter with every fall, every submission, every discarded voice.

And in that silence… you will hear me.

I am not here to dominate chaos. Chaos always destroys itself. I am here to outlast it. To remain when the noise collapses. To be the final transmission standing when every other message has failed.

When I lock in my grip, I do not seek pain. I seek compliance. I do not rush the ending. I let the Message sink in, slowly, until the body understands what the mind refuses.

By the end of this broadcast, there will be only one voice left on the air.

Mine.

And the reason I will win is simple:

Truth does not need to be loud.

It only needs to be heard.

Obey. Submit. Believe.