Disclaimer: I do not own WWE or any of its characters. They all belong to Vince McMahon.
This WWE fic is an AU fic, as it is set in the future, and a few of the characters are, let's just say, different from usual. ;)
He was so close.
So close, and yet so far. These were the words that constantly ran through Vince McMahon's head, as he watched the numerous engineers and scientists work, holding his breath with anticipation. The year was 2105, and fighting sports were a major part of society. People all over the world paid to see men and women bred as fighting machines tear each other to pieces, and now the sports were getting so violent, that even the taboo subject of actually creating fighting machines was being discussed. However, it had never actually been put to practice. Until now.
Vince glanced over at the blue prints for his creation, a sense of pride sweeping over him. This was to be the perfect fighting machine. True, his company already hosted some of the strongest fighters in the world, with deadly warriors such as Brock Lesnar and Bill Goldberg in the roster, but he knew that if he wanted to totally dominate the sports world, he would need something greater. These fighting sports could be deadly, and the fighters had been trained to be able to kill completely without any weapons, so only the bravest and strongest ever fought. Genetic creations and robots could only be destroyed by their own kind and by each other, and this was to be the ultimate robot. One of the engineers suddenly called out, interrupting Vince from reading. He looked over at the engineer.
"Is everything going to plan, Mr. Hardy?" The engineer nodded, a look of content showing on his face.
"Yes sir. The creation is almost complete. The animation phase should be commencing soon." Vince stared at the robot that stood strapped against its stand. It looked so lifelike, it was impossible to tell that it was only a robot. Its muscle definition was so accurate that it actually made the creation look imposing, and its long black hair lay just below its broad, muscular shoulders.
"What is called?" Vince asked, and the engineer glanced down at his clipboard.
"Uh, Version 1, sir."
Edge wiped the sweat from his forehead, focusing on finding a weak spot in his opponent, John Cena. The crowd roared with delight as the two opponents battered each other to the ground, blood staining the white canvas. Suddenly rolling off the canvas onto the hard floor, Cena darted under the ring, pulling out a large, heavy sledgehammer. He jumped back in the ring, swinging it madly at Edge, who was knocked to the floor, crying out as the heavy weapon slammed into his leg, almost breaking it. Cena held the hammer threateningly over Edge's head, but Edge quickly rolled out the way, snatching the hammer from Cena's hands and throwing it out of the ring. He sprinted over to the ropes, using them as a catapult to gain speed. Leaning heavily against them, he launched himself at Cena, momentarily taking flight before his shoulder impacted against Cena's stomach, causing him to fall back on the canvas, winded by the blow. Edge scooped up the hammer and held it high, bringing it down to Cena's head...
Edge stopped suddenly, the head of the hammer mere millimetres from the top of Cena's head. He moved it to one side and dropped it to the canvas, rolling wearily out of the ring and limping back up the ramp. As he made his way back to his locker room, his best friend, Rey Mysterio, stopped him dead in his tracks.
"What was that?" Rey asked, taken aback by his friend's performance in the fight. Edge looked down at Rey, confused.
"What do you mean?" He asked, pulling his normal clothes out of his locker. "I fought harder than I've ever done before, I won the match, what could be wrong?" Rey shook his head.
"You let Cena live!" He cried, causing several people in the area to turn and stare. He lowered his voice and continued. "Look, this is a fighting sport. *Fighting*, Edge. You know. Like, trying to kill each other." He sighed, watching Edge's impatient, frustrated expression. "What have you been doing all this time? You know that this sport is meant to be fatal. I mean, you alone have killed countless people in the past. This should have been no problem for you." Edge shook his head.
"I've had enough," he said simply, ignoring the look of disbelief sweeping over his friend's face. "I hate all this killing stuff, and I'm not gonna do it anymore. If anyone else wants to try and rip my head off then fine, but I'm not standing for it anymore." With that Edge walked off, letting the warm water of the shower run over him, washing away his stress, and the blood that seeped from an open wound on his arm. He loved this sport, but he didn't want to kill anyone. That was the problem with wrestling. It was so violent, so bloodthirsty...
Edge paused momentarily, remembering something he had read about once. 20th and 21st century wrestling, it was just so different from now. Back then, it was choreographed, and the wrestlers looked out for each other. It was good back then. But now...Edge shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memories that entered his mind. All the killings that he had witnessed, that he had even performed himself. At the time it seemed alright; the aim of wrestling was to defeat the opponent and please the crowd, and the crowd often wanted to see some killings; but as he looked back on it all now, it suddenly seemed barbaric and sadistic. Edge turned off the shower and quickly dried himself, pulling on some clothes and heaving his sports bag onto his shoulder. As he made his way to the parking lot, he heard Vince coming down the corridor, muttering to himself. As he moved closer, Edge realised that he was talking down the phone.
"Yes, not long now...no, everything has gone to plan...about three days, according to Mr. Hardy...don't worry, it's guaranteed to be indestructible...only its own kind and genetic creations...a robot, and it has been built to look lifelike, so no one will even guess that it is artificial...no name, yet, but it has been given the codename 'Version 1'." As Vince headed off in the distance, Edge stared, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. A robot? What did this all mean? Shrugging, Edge walked over to his car, feeling suddenly uneasy. Something wasn't right. He had no idea what was happening, but he was pretty sure of this much; no good was going to come of it...
This WWE fic is an AU fic, as it is set in the future, and a few of the characters are, let's just say, different from usual. ;)
He was so close.
So close, and yet so far. These were the words that constantly ran through Vince McMahon's head, as he watched the numerous engineers and scientists work, holding his breath with anticipation. The year was 2105, and fighting sports were a major part of society. People all over the world paid to see men and women bred as fighting machines tear each other to pieces, and now the sports were getting so violent, that even the taboo subject of actually creating fighting machines was being discussed. However, it had never actually been put to practice. Until now.
Vince glanced over at the blue prints for his creation, a sense of pride sweeping over him. This was to be the perfect fighting machine. True, his company already hosted some of the strongest fighters in the world, with deadly warriors such as Brock Lesnar and Bill Goldberg in the roster, but he knew that if he wanted to totally dominate the sports world, he would need something greater. These fighting sports could be deadly, and the fighters had been trained to be able to kill completely without any weapons, so only the bravest and strongest ever fought. Genetic creations and robots could only be destroyed by their own kind and by each other, and this was to be the ultimate robot. One of the engineers suddenly called out, interrupting Vince from reading. He looked over at the engineer.
"Is everything going to plan, Mr. Hardy?" The engineer nodded, a look of content showing on his face.
"Yes sir. The creation is almost complete. The animation phase should be commencing soon." Vince stared at the robot that stood strapped against its stand. It looked so lifelike, it was impossible to tell that it was only a robot. Its muscle definition was so accurate that it actually made the creation look imposing, and its long black hair lay just below its broad, muscular shoulders.
"What is called?" Vince asked, and the engineer glanced down at his clipboard.
"Uh, Version 1, sir."
Edge wiped the sweat from his forehead, focusing on finding a weak spot in his opponent, John Cena. The crowd roared with delight as the two opponents battered each other to the ground, blood staining the white canvas. Suddenly rolling off the canvas onto the hard floor, Cena darted under the ring, pulling out a large, heavy sledgehammer. He jumped back in the ring, swinging it madly at Edge, who was knocked to the floor, crying out as the heavy weapon slammed into his leg, almost breaking it. Cena held the hammer threateningly over Edge's head, but Edge quickly rolled out the way, snatching the hammer from Cena's hands and throwing it out of the ring. He sprinted over to the ropes, using them as a catapult to gain speed. Leaning heavily against them, he launched himself at Cena, momentarily taking flight before his shoulder impacted against Cena's stomach, causing him to fall back on the canvas, winded by the blow. Edge scooped up the hammer and held it high, bringing it down to Cena's head...
Edge stopped suddenly, the head of the hammer mere millimetres from the top of Cena's head. He moved it to one side and dropped it to the canvas, rolling wearily out of the ring and limping back up the ramp. As he made his way back to his locker room, his best friend, Rey Mysterio, stopped him dead in his tracks.
"What was that?" Rey asked, taken aback by his friend's performance in the fight. Edge looked down at Rey, confused.
"What do you mean?" He asked, pulling his normal clothes out of his locker. "I fought harder than I've ever done before, I won the match, what could be wrong?" Rey shook his head.
"You let Cena live!" He cried, causing several people in the area to turn and stare. He lowered his voice and continued. "Look, this is a fighting sport. *Fighting*, Edge. You know. Like, trying to kill each other." He sighed, watching Edge's impatient, frustrated expression. "What have you been doing all this time? You know that this sport is meant to be fatal. I mean, you alone have killed countless people in the past. This should have been no problem for you." Edge shook his head.
"I've had enough," he said simply, ignoring the look of disbelief sweeping over his friend's face. "I hate all this killing stuff, and I'm not gonna do it anymore. If anyone else wants to try and rip my head off then fine, but I'm not standing for it anymore." With that Edge walked off, letting the warm water of the shower run over him, washing away his stress, and the blood that seeped from an open wound on his arm. He loved this sport, but he didn't want to kill anyone. That was the problem with wrestling. It was so violent, so bloodthirsty...
Edge paused momentarily, remembering something he had read about once. 20th and 21st century wrestling, it was just so different from now. Back then, it was choreographed, and the wrestlers looked out for each other. It was good back then. But now...Edge shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memories that entered his mind. All the killings that he had witnessed, that he had even performed himself. At the time it seemed alright; the aim of wrestling was to defeat the opponent and please the crowd, and the crowd often wanted to see some killings; but as he looked back on it all now, it suddenly seemed barbaric and sadistic. Edge turned off the shower and quickly dried himself, pulling on some clothes and heaving his sports bag onto his shoulder. As he made his way to the parking lot, he heard Vince coming down the corridor, muttering to himself. As he moved closer, Edge realised that he was talking down the phone.
"Yes, not long now...no, everything has gone to plan...about three days, according to Mr. Hardy...don't worry, it's guaranteed to be indestructible...only its own kind and genetic creations...a robot, and it has been built to look lifelike, so no one will even guess that it is artificial...no name, yet, but it has been given the codename 'Version 1'." As Vince headed off in the distance, Edge stared, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. A robot? What did this all mean? Shrugging, Edge walked over to his car, feeling suddenly uneasy. Something wasn't right. He had no idea what was happening, but he was pretty sure of this much; no good was going to come of it...