[Opening – Arena Lights Dim]
The arena plunges into darkness. The air is thick with anticipation. Fans rise to their feet, whispering, hoping. Hoping he would show up.
Suddenly—
"SIERRA. HOTEL. INDIA. ECHO. LIMA. DELTA."
The unmistakable crackle of the old Shield intro rolls across the sound system—only for it to glitch midway.
Static. Glitch. Silence.
And then—
"DAAAAHH DAHHHH—EMPIRE!!!"
BOOM.
Pyro hits. Red lighting floods the stage. A thick curtain of smoke rises. The crowd erupts into chaos.
Michael Cole (nearly screaming):
"Wait a minute… no way—NO WAY—ROMAN REIGNS IS HERE!!"
From the smoke emerges Roman Reigns. Towering. Silent. Focused.
He strides forward in his black tactical vest, which now bears a sleek, metallic gold "R" emblazoned across the chest. His long hair is pulled tightly back, not a strand out of place. There's no sign of a grin or smirk on his face—only a clenched jaw and a piercing stare. His eyes burn with silent fury, the kind that doesn't need words to explain.
He doesn't stop to pose. He doesn't acknowledge the crowd. He just walks—a predator, straight down the ramp.
Jerry Lawler (stunned):
"Look at his eyes… that's not the same Roman."
JBL:
"That's not a return… that's a reckoning."
---
[In-Ring – The Storm Unleashed]
Seth Rollins is in the ring, mic in hand, mid-monologue, flanked by Evolution. The smug smile evaporates from his face.
Seth (stammering):
"You—you shouldn't be here. You're done, Roman! I finished you!"
Roman picks up speed.
Triple H:
"Seth, get back! I said GET BACK—"
BAM!
SUPERMAN PUNCH!
Seth crumples like a puppet whose strings were cut.
Triple H charges—
SPINEBUSTER!
The ring shakes. Roman doesn't pause.
Batista stomps forward—
Roman ducks under a wild clothesline and springs up with explosive force, lifting Batista high into the air before crashing him down with a devastating pop-up Samoan Drop that echoes through the arena.
Orton lunges—
Roman reacts in a blur, catching Orton mid-motion and slamming him down with a quick-angle Uranage. Without pause, he drills a brutal knee strike into Orton's temple, sending the Viper rolling out of the ring, dazed and broken.
The crowd is losing their minds.
Crowd Chanting:
"ROMAN! ROMAN! ROMAN!"
Roman grabs Seth by the vest. The Architect is dazed, barely conscious.
Michael Cole (breathless):
"Roman's not done—wait, what's he doing—"
BUCKLE BOMB.
Then—THE RAMPAGE DRIVER!
He lifts Seth again, spinning him into a punishing powerbomb before dropping down into a vicious sit-out spinebuster. The ring shakes beneath the force. Seth is motionless.
---
[Aftermath – Roman Takes the Mic]
The chaos settles. Evolution is scattered like broken statues.
Roman stands tall over Seth. Breathing heavy. Chest rising like a beast who has tasted blood for the first time.
He grabs a mic. The entire arena goes dead quiet.
Roman (calm, low):
"You think I was gone?"
He steps forward, looming over Seth's broken frame.
Roman:
"I wasn't gone. I was building rage. You destroyed The Shield. You sold your soul for power. Now…"
He crouches slightly, staring directly into Seth's glazed eyes.
Roman (growling):
"…I end your peace."
He drops the mic. Thud. Echoes.
JBL:
"That's not The Shield's Roman Reigns. That's a new breed. That's… the Big Dog."
---
[Backstage – Charlotte Flair Watches]
Backstage, Charlotte Flair leans against a monitor. Her arms are folded across her chest, her posture casual but her eyes sharp with awareness. Her lips curl into a small, knowing smile.
Charlotte (softly):
"Took you long enough, Tribal King."
She walks off, leaving the screen glowing behind her with Roman's silhouette still in the ring.
---
[Post-Credit Scene – Training Montage: The Rebuild of a Warrior]
Cue haunting tribal drums with a deep, slow rhythm.
In a dimly lit gym, shadows stretch across the walls as Roman moves through a brutal training session. Sweat drips from his brow. Every rep is fueled by fury. Every motion is precise, focused.
He pulls heavy chains while strapped to resistance sleds, his muscles straining with each powerful step. He slams oversized tires with a sledgehammer, each hit echoing like thunder. His breathing is measured—controlled.
He transitions to submission drills, practicing guillotine chokes with relentless precision. Then come the high-impact moves—crushing dummies with Avalanche Samoan Drops from the second rope, launching into high-angle Spears that explode through foam pads.
He finishes with an intense striking sequence—rapid elbows, precision punches, and a vicious spinning elbow that lands with the sharp snap of true violence.
Roman (voiceover):
"They took my brothers. My name. My legacy."
"Now… I take everything."
The final shot is Roman standing alone in front of a cracked mirror—his reflection split, fractured. His real face? Calm. Cold. Ready.
To Be Continued…