You operate in darkness and silence, Blackhand.

Whispers. Back rooms. Shadows where names are erased and bodies disappear. Your empire is built on closed doors and fear, where loyalty is bought and power is enforced quietly. That’s the world you crawled out of… and the one you think you’ve brought with you to Old School Wrestling.

But there’s the problem with living in the dark: you never look up.

Mira al cielo (look at the sky), Moretti. The stars don’t whisper. They don’t hide. They don’t ask permission to shine. Long before your family carved their name into concrete and blood, the heavens were already there—constant, unafraid, impossible to silence.

You vanished once. Let the world believe you were dead. Exiled. Erased. You survived by disappearing, by pulling strings from the shadows while others took the risks. That’s how syndicates work. That’s how fear survives.

But I do not fear you. I am not something you can make disappear.

I am Cometa IV. Like you, I carry a name that has crossed generations. But mine endures not by hiding, but by blazing forward like a shooting star. Each Cometa burned a path through their era, not quietly, not secretly, but in full view of the world. You expand territory by force. I expand legacy by flight.

You call your faction I.C.E. You call it a syndicate. Titles are leverage. Victories are warnings. Losses are unacceptable.

To me, that sounds like a man terrified of losing control.

Porque cuando dependes del miedo, no puedes permitirte caer (Because when you depend on fear, you cannot afford to fall).

You surround yourself with darkness because you fear the light. You maintain a firm grip on your power. But no matter how tight your grip is, you can’t hold onto the sky.

You fight to own the ring.
I fight to rise above it.

In lucha libre, the rudos believe power is taken—stolen with shortcuts and bent rules. But there is something you can’t intimidate, can’t buy, and can’t bury in a shallow grave.

Las estrellas no obedecen (The stars do not obey).

My mask, my legacy, they guide me. A symbol you can’t smear, a legacy you can’t corrupt. But this mask is not about hiding who I am. It’s a promise. A beacon. Proof that even in a world overcome with darkness, the light still finds a way through.

You operate quietly because you’re afraid of being seen for what you are.

I soar brightly because I want the world to see what I stand for.

So bring your warnings. Bring your leverage. Bring your empire of shadows into the ring.

Because when a comet cuts through the night, it doesn’t ask permission.
It doesn’t slow down.
And it does not burn quietly.

A la oscuridad le digo esto (To the darkness, I say this):

You can rule the shadows.

But I was born to shine past them.

Un cometa contra las sombras (A comet against the shadows).