Lana looked at the championship. The cobra’s eyes were no longer crimson. They were empty. A keyhole. “It’s not a belt,” she whispered. “It’s a lock. And I just broke it.”
“Labels,” the Divapocalypse sighed. “You’ll learn they taste the same when you’re devoured.” X Club Wrestling Divapocalypse
One by one, they fell.
The Divapocalypse froze. For the first time, her burning eyes flickered. Lana looked at the championship
Lana picked up the mic. She didn’t speak into it. She turned it over and saw the engraving: “For those who performed. For those who survived.” X Club Wrestling Divapocalypse