*Days pass, and Gol still wanders. Sleeping in hotels each night, ashamed to show his face to his Oblivion team-mates, afraid to go home, where his wife would offer little sympathy than 'oh, that's too bad'. Robert Young had his own problems to deal with, Sickness would be in no mood to tolerate failure, and Hollow would follow Sickness' lead. There was nowhere to go.*

*Now, a week later, a broken, shattered man steps up at Oblivion HQ. He walks to the front door, but still cannot face his friends, his team-mates. Rather, he sneaks down the side of the building and enters through a back door of the place, right into his own little room. He throws his bag down on the lounge, runs his hands through his knotted, filthy hair, takes off his now slightly scuffed and tattered leather jacket, and sinks into a chair in front of his computer.*

'Seven days' Gol thinks to himself, 'and I still have no answers. I still cannot explain to myself what happened, and why. I don't know what will happen. Will Oblivion collapse? Will we be made stronger in the face of adversity? Have we succeeded, and brought LCW to our level, or have we failed, and LCW has pulled us down to their level?'

'There is still EEI, that is one major problem. A blight on the Oblivion movement, as we strive for perfection in Mercury, we have also opened the door to a crew of misfits and morons, none of whom are worthy of LCW. Yet we cannot put them away. We defeat them, yet they still stand strong. What do we lack, what can we do to deliver the killer blow to this cancer on the Oblivion's dreams?'

'And Geoffrey Slate, our successful failure. The man we tried to bring to us that turned on us, and in the process became as great as us. Can I defeat him? Is Slate really 'better' than me? Is it because I don't have the heart to take out a man I have put so much effort into shaping, a man that once used me as a role model of sorts? A man who looked up to me? The only others to ever show me that kind of respect are by my side right now. Why can I hurt him, but not beat him? Twice now, I have failed to teach Geoffrey Slate, how many more chances will I get? I have to make the most of whatever I have left, which is not a whole lot, I have to take what I have and run with it. Turn it into something great. But how can I help us become the greatest, when I don't even understand what holds me back from that very same goal?'

'I will figure out Geoffrey Slate, I will defeat him, and I will show him the errors of his ways. There is something greater than I understand between him and me, but I will conquer him. But first, EEI. The cancer, another failing of Oblivion. They are in my sights, they are who we shall destroy.'

'I've been sidetracked for a while by personal issues with Slate, and EEI have gained the ascendancy once more. But now, the strike force is back. Oblivion are united against them. And it starts at Fusion.'

Gol: Vincent Picasso, it starts with you. You want the crown jewel of Oblivion do you? Well, here he is. Try your best. While I fight for the World title, become a champion, and set down a legacy, what did you do? You held the tag titles in a division with only one other team, also members of EEI. Good work, congratulations. I've told you how many times now, the tag team division was a perfect example of the failure of Mercury. What was once great, the cornerstone of the federation it was called, was now a joke. Luckily it was given a merciful death at Resurrection. The point is, Picasso, you may have beaten a few pathetic teams, the Heatseekers, the Trents, Rush & Killjoy, they were all nothing. They were not true teams, and we paid the price for thinking that they were. You dominated the least competitive division in the history of LCW, Picasso. Can you understand that? You were the old man throwing strikes at little league players, you were the college linebacker tackling kids in peewee football. You were the big boys with the ball, daring any little kindergarten kids to try and take it from you, then thinking you were real good because of it.

Gol: In short, Picasso, the time you've spent in Mercury so far has been wasted. Wasted fighting lowlifes, wasted fighting men not fit to be in Mercury, obviously, because where are they now? But why haven't you been out looking for singles matches? Are you afraid of one on one competition? Do you need somebody in your corner to bail you out when you're in trouble, a safety blanket to go and hug in the corner? You might need to bring a cuddly teddy bear down to ringside against me, Vincent, just to reassure you that it's all okay, it will all be over soon, the pain will stop, and that disgusting feeling in your stomach, the feeling of defeat, that will go away too.

Gol: What wont go away are the facts. The facts are, you have spent the last six months fighting tag teams not fit for serving burgers at McDonalds. I've spent the last six months forming the most devastating force in Mercury, trying to revolutionise the federation. I've won two singles titles, I've fought the best Mercury has, and come out on top. I've pinned Pariah, Geoffrey Slate, Dirge, Robert Young, and just about everybody else. I threw Headbuster and Memosarks out of Mercury. I forced Mercury to rise to another level, I set the standards.

Gol: But of course, all that doesn't compare to beating jobbers in tag matches, does it?

Gol: If you want to prove yourself, Vincent, fight guys like Subdued and Inferno, they're tough, but they're green. Don't go and pick out a legend, an icon of LCW, one of the greatest wrestlers in LCW history, and challenge him. Don't start talking down to a man who has done more than you could ever wish for in LCW.

Gol: The great thing about Oblivion is not when we do the dirty work ourselves, but when we manipulate others into doing it for us. Sickness' plans worked to perfection once more at Resurrection. I mean, even we wouldn't have gone as far as to break somebodies arm, especially over the now meaningless tag team belts. Yet you guys outdo yourselves yet again, and take one of your own out, maybe for good. Thanks for that, it makes our job so much easier, the only 'real' champion of your group, taken out by his own.

Gol: But that's what friends are for, right? Breaking each others arms?

***With that Gol gives his little smirk and turns back to the computer, which he turns on, as the scene fades out.***