So, life is funny thing. One minute you have time to write, and the next you don't. Sorry, it took so long to get this chapter out. After finally finding the time and three and a half rewrites later, I've finally got something I like and something that is starting to move us forward and toward our next big reveal.

Enjoy!

Oh and as for reviews on the last chapter, thank you, and I will respond to them all shortly!

Seth had taken Superman Punches before, hell he had taken much worse, but there was something about this particular hit that left him reeling. As soon as Roman's fist made contact, Seth felt like his head was going to explode. The impact and sheer force behind the punch had sent Seth backward, crashing into the barricade behind him. He barely managed to stay on his feet, using the wall for balance.

Looking up into the ring, Seth saw the ladders, the chairs, the tables. Everything was broken in half, dented or cracked from the weight of the men who had been slammed into and through them. From where he stood, his body using the wall to hold him upright, Seth could see Dean, still on the ground, still motionless.

If he was being entirely honest, it scared the crap out of him. Only once before had Seth seen Dean like that and it was when he had been the one delivering the damage. Seth had held Dean's career and frankly his life, in his hands and admittedly, had done one of the most reprehensible things of his entire career, of his life.

Those cinderblocks, the sound they made as Dean's head went crashing through them.

After what had happened just moments ago, Seth couldn't bring himself to think about it. Seeing Brock F5 Dean, well, it had its way of putting things into perspective. That and everything else that had happened over the past 72 hours. One thing was for certain, as much as he wanted to win, Seth certainly hadn't wanted this.

Seth wanted to check on Dean, make sure he was okay, but his body was spent and the second he let go of the wall, he came crashing to the ground. His head felt heavy, so much so, he could barely lift it. Yet somehow, Seth managed to push his back against the barricade, resting his head against the wall.

He could feel himself fading, in and out of consciousness. The image of Roman, Dean and the rush of medical personnel that had just passed by with a stretcher, unsure of if Dean had a broken back, neck, spine or worse, was fading quickly. Seth blinked a few times, causing a searing pain in his temple. He looked one last time over at his fallen brother before closing his eyes, unable to fight the blackness that was taking over.

It could have been minutes or even hours later, Seth wasn't really sure, when he finally opened his eyes again. This time, everything was in clear focus but still, something didn't seem right. Seth went to stand and sure enough, he got to his feet without any problem. He began to look around the arena.

Gone was the carnage that had lied in wake just a few minutes or even hours ago. It was replaced by nothing but an empty ring, well empty with the exception of three black vested individuals standing inside of it.

Seth couldn't make out the faces, but from what he did see, the people looked familiar, too familiar.

He continued to survey the arena, which seemed to be filling with people every time he turned his head. The fans were chanting for him, not sell-out, not Justin Bieber, but his name. They were holding signs praising him and his PPV performance. They were on his side.

Seth shook his head. The last time the fans had cheered for him was over a year ago, before he dismantled the Shield. Clearly, he thought, he wasn't as conscious as he initially assumed.

As the faces started to clear up and the masks, both literal and figurative, were removed, Seth tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. It didn't make sense. That's when he looked up to the crowds and noticed the rolling marquee:

Welcome to Banker's Life Fieldhouse, home of Payback and Monday Night Raw Live from Indianapolis!

Payback? Indianapolis? No, this was Money in the Bank and they were in Columbus, Ohio.

But the marquee and the crowds and the "Shield brought their brooms" signs, among other clever slogans, were there staring him in the face.

Yeah, something definitely wasn't right.

Payback.

Finally, it had started to click and the next thing Seth saw when he looked up were two more figures standing outside of the ring, one of which had a remarkable likeness to Hunter and was holding a sledgehammer.

"You should know by now that one thing I do better than anyone is adapt," the figure said stepping into the light.

At this point, it was clear. If this wasn't Triple H, it was some kind of clone. Standing next to him, the other face came into focus. It looked like Randy, exactly like Randy. He was flanking Triple H's side, something that also made no sense to Seth given the animosity the two had returned to following Randy's exile from the Authority.

Seth continued to watch as the three men in the ring held their ground and that's when he heard the words that for the second time in his life, made his heart sink into his chest. That's when he knew exactly where he was and exactly what he was about to get a first row seat to watch happen.

"I always have a plan B," Hunter smiled.

The one figure left the ring and slid under the apron. Seth knew what was coming and for whatever reason, refused to let it happen again. So he followed the figure and as the man held two chairs, grabbed one from his hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the figure spat as he looked back and forth between the ring and the man stopping him from fulfilling his destiny.

Seth paused for a moment too. He looked at the ring and at Hunter and Randy. Everything was stopped, as if frozen in time. It was then that he looked back at the figure and it was like looking in the mirror, well a slighter younger, slightly blonder, slightly less selfish mirror.

"I'm stopping you from doing something you're going to regret," Seth said more forcefully as he stared down his likeness.

"Oh really?" the man laughed as he looked down at where the title belt sat around Seth's waist. "Tell me, future me, how exactly are we going to regret this? I think we both know that this jumpstarts our singles career. And look at the heights we've reached so far. To think, we're only just beginning, so if you'll not waste any more of my time,"

"No," Seth stood firm as he grabbed the man's arm, preventing him from taking another step closer to the ring. "I'm not letting you do this, not again."

The man continued to laugh, although he was clearly frustrated. "It's the butterflies again isn't it?" he questioned. "Look, we got over it last time, we'll do it again. Besides, we both know, those two, the Shield? It's not what's best for business."

"Best for business," Seth repeated without releasing his grip.

"See, you get it," the man said. "Now let me do what's best for business."

Now it was Seth's turn to laugh.

"Best for business," he repeated again. "You know, I am so damn sick and tired of hearing what's best for business. What's best for business is me being under Hunter's thumb, forced to blackmail a guy I called a friend? You know as well as I do that when we did this, we chose to do this 100 percent on our own. But that didn't mean Hunter didn't have an agenda. I'm starting to think he always has an agenda. So no, being stuck his victim isn't what's best for business, this is."

Always one who thought quickly on his feet, Seth looked at the chair in his hands and swung it as hard as he could at the familiar face. It caused the man to drop the other chair as he looked on in shock, a similar look that Dean and Roman once wore but that Seth was certain to make sure didn't happen again. He continued to beat the man with the chair, each swing coming down harder, louder than the one before.

He was alone with his thoughts, with his past and he was destroying them, the only way he knew how.

Looking down at the broken, battered man, Seth held the chair high in the air, prepared for one last vicious blow.

"You do this and you're done," the man screamed as he coughed up blood. "That title, the main event status, the top guy in the company, it all goes away, and for what? For them? For Roman and Dean? They don't care about you. In fact, both of them would do the exact same thing if given the chance. But the beauty of their situation is, they don't need to. With or without your betrayal, Roman's got star quality written all over him. He'll main event Wrestlemania, he'll win the title, with or without you. And Dean, he was always the top guy in the Shield. That's why he got to hold the only singles title and why his reign with the U.S. was longer than anyone else. You hitting him with the chair, sure maybe it jolted him up the ladder a little quicker, but he's a superstar and the fans just love him. You on the other hand, you claim to be the Architect and yet, what do you have to show for it? Seth, I come from a place of love. I care about you and your career, our career, not theirs. If you don't take that chair and take my place and hit them as you were always destined to do, you lose it all. You're not good enough to make it on your own. You need Hunter and the Authority, much more than those two. They're just fine. Dean, hell, he even got a title match against you and came damn close. But that same PPV, Seth if you don't strike them, you're nothing more than the pre-show attraction and your title, you'll never once be a number one contender let alone a champion. And I hate to break it to you, but if your argument is, 'but but, at least I'd still have the Shield,' you're wrong. Stables break up, it happens. Whether you're the catalyst or not, the Shield will not last. Mark my words Seth, the Shield will not last."

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Seth's head, causing him to drop the chair to the ground. He stumbled backward as his vision was blurring. He blinked a few times but his equilibrium was off. He was finding it hard to stand, to think, to do anything. He looked back at the scene, everything falling out of focus. The crowd was disappearing, so were the people outside of the ring. First Hunter, then Randy, then the commentators, who he had just noticed were in their usual spot. Seth looked back toward the ring and saw Dean and Roman's figures vanish as well.

Then there were two.

"You can't go back to them," the figure said one last time as he was still on the ground. "You're okay without them. Better without them. Back them. Welcome back."

Seth shook his head as he tried to make sense of the jumbled words. That's when he looked up and saw a smirking face and heard a familiar voice.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, jackass," Randy smiled.

Seth continued to look around. Everything was different. The ring was gone as was the wreckage. The seats were empty and even the Titontron was being dismantled. Seth rubbed the back of his neck, realizing he had been out for longer than he thought.

"This isn't Indianapolis," he said as he looked back at Randy.

Randy shot him a puzzled look. "Indianapolis? Why would we be in Indianapolis?"

"Payback," Seth replied.

"Payback?" Randy again questioned him. "Uh, this is Money in the Bank and we're in Columbus. Damn, Brock must have really hit you hard."

"Brock?" Seth asked as the pieces were starting to come back together, everything around him returning to focus.

"Yeah, remember he came out during your match with Dean," Randy tried to jog his memory. "I didn't see what happened after that as the live feed in the back just cut out, but yeah he was out there."

"I know," Seth said a little more lucid.

Randy breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, because for a minute there I thought we were gonna have to get you tested for a concussion or something."

"It wasn't Brock," Seth replied.

"And we're back to the concussion testing," Randy said, shaking his head.

Seth just looked at him. After the vivid dream his subconscious had manifested, maybe it wasn't half a bad idea to go and get checked for a head injury. But now wasn't the time for that. He had to get to the back and take care of some things first.

But as he tried to stand, once again his legs failed him. Fortunately, Randy was there to help pull him back up. With wobbly legs and using what was left of the back barricade for support, Seth watched as Randy went behind where the announce tables were and returned with a chair.

"Maybe you should just sit down for a minute and not try to stand right away," Randy said as he opened the chair. "I think you're still a little dazed from what Brock,"

"It wasn't Brock," Seth interrupted, this time a little frustrated. "It was Roman."

"Roman?" Randy asked. "No, it was Brock. He won the briefcase remember? Not Reigns."

Seth sighed heavily. "I know," he said as calmly as he could manage. "But like I've been trying to tell you, he's not the one that rung my bell. That was Roman."

Randy looked at him carefully. "You mentioned Indianapolis earlier, Payback. Maybe you're getting the two confused."

Seth sighed again. This was becoming exhausting and his head did still hurt. "Remember how you said the feed cut out in the back?" he asked, deciding to skip right to the point, hoping that maybe then Randy would believe him.

"Yeah," the older man replied.

"Okay, so after the match was over I was heading up the ramp and Roman was there," Seth explained. "We kind of just looked at each other and then before I knew it, I was on the ground via the most aggressive Superman Punch I've ever taken and I'm pretty sure he's ever given. Next thing I remember, you're standing here and I'm back in Columbus."

It was starting to make a little more sense to Randy now, but he still had some questions of his own.

"What do you mean by 'back in Columbus'?" he asked. "We never left."

There was no way to explain to him what Seth meant when the Architect didn't even really know himself, so instead he said nothing.

"It's not important," Seth replied, quickly changing the subject. "Help me to the back, I have to go check on Dean."

Again, Randy was confused. "You're sure you don't have a concussion?"

"For the last time, yes!" Seth said.

"Alright," Randy relented as he threw his hands in the air. "I was just trying to help."

"I know," Seth replied, "and I appreciate it. It's just, if you really want to help, help me to the back."

"Okay," Randy said as Seth put his arm around the Viper's neck for balance. The pair had gotten halfway back up the ramp when Randy stopped, much to Seth's confusion.

"I just have one last question," he said. "Brock came out here with the briefcase. He was gonna cash in. You and Dean had practically destroyed each other. I mean your back, his knee. I saw how hard you went through that ladder, how Dean could walk about as well as you right now. So all of that and yet, it's still yours."

Seth arched his brow not immediately getting what Randy was referencing. But then he followed the man's gaze straight down to his waist. Sure enough, the belt was right there, as it had also been in his dream. Seth traced the giant W adorning the center before moving his fingers over to where his initials were on the side. He was about as shocked as Randy was that he still had the title.

"So I've gotta ask," Randy continued. "How are you still the champion?"

Seth looked up from the belt and into Randy's eyes.

"I have no idea."