SANITY IS IN A SMALL BOX

The feed cuts to static, white noise bursting in with the lack of image. After a moment, the static and noise fade away, leaving us with a view of the New York City skyline from a distance. The glow of a fire shines from somewhere off camera before a familiar voice breaks the silence.

In my mind’s eye, my thoughts light fires in your cities.

The camera turns to find Jacob Mephisto sitting cross-legged in front of a fire. He’s clearly not in the city where the biggest event PRIME has to offer is taking place. Still, he’s somewhere in the surrounding area. There are no Family members with him, just The Patriarch.

Hello, PRIME. You know, I wanted more from all of this, I really did. See, I’m a man of focus. I’m a man of determination. But, those things eluded me this past year.

He bows his head for a moment, pausing with his thoughts. When he looks back up, his pale, gray eyes catch the firelight, the fire dancing across the irises.

There have been glimmers of greatness. I put Anna Daniels in her place. I showed the world that monsters can be beaten well before The Anglo Luchador defeated Balaam. Speaking of Tom, I ended his title defense against me on my own terms. Hell, I even delivered a measure of bloody punishment to Paxton Ray.

A light smirk plays at the All-Father’s face as he runs his tongue over his lips, remembering his tilt with the Bayou Butcher.

But, for what?

The smirk fades, his eye twitches… just once.

What have I accomplished in PRIME? I’ve been a champion multiple times over in the SHOOT Project. I’ve become the stuff of legend there. That should be enough for a man to hang his hat on. The SHOOT Project is a hallowed hall, after all.

Mephisto’s hands clench into fists before relaxing. He repeats the motion a few more times before taking a breath.

But… it’s not enough. It will never be enough. I’ve come to terms with that. I want more.

Pause. Twitch.

You see, I started my journey with PRIME against one of its beacons of light in the Almasy Invitational. That didn’t go as planned. You’re welcome for waking up your Risen Star, by the way. Go back and watch if you’ve forgotten.

Since that time, I’ve had a distinct lack of focus. My determination has been… barely present.

Deep breath. Pause. Twitch.

The Family has grown stagnant.

His voice hardens, an edge creeping into his words.

That ends. Now.

The Patriarch closes his eyes for a moment. When they open, one is the usual pale gray we’ve become accustomed to. The other is completely white, no iris or pupil present.

I’m not going to be at Colossus, which is fortunate for you, PRIME. But, understand this, you are not safe. None of you.

The scene begins to distort slightly at the edges as we begin to zoom in on Mephisto’s face.

When PRIME comes back from its break, so does The Family. This will not be the nearly nonexistent force you’ve seen over the last year.

The closer we get to The Patriarch’s face, the more the images distort.

So, tonight I want you to bask in the glory that is Colossus. Ride that emotional wave over these two nights. Then, rest well, PRIME. Because next year? Next year is going to be the year the Family rises. And when I rise, fire will reign as sovereign . Blood will flow in rivers. Fear will be a lesson learned in pain. And, in 2023, dear PRIME, we will grow. We will build. And, most importantly…

We.

Will.

Feast.

The scene bursts back to static before returning us to our regularly scheduled programming.