Prior to the Tempest match
I wearily looked around at my surroundings. Everything's so hazy, hey, is that footsteps? I don't think I'm alone anymore... So cold...
"Are you ready?" a voice said. Who are you? Where am I?
"Yessir." I replied. I think the voice means the match. I guess I am. Why am I here?
"Good. You have endured hard training but you've had few defeats to come this far. I expect only the best from you."
"Yessir." I want to go home...
"Someone familiar to you, someone you may know will be in this next match. A high-scoring terror, she is. I expect you to treat this Mason figure the same way you treat everyone else; with utmost scrutiny."
Mason? Kyla Mason? Who is that? Do I know a Kyla Mason? I have a headache. Let me go home, sir. Please, just let me go home. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to hurt anyone else.
"Oh, and Jayce?" Jayce, who's that? Is that me? I think he means me. What does he want now?
"Yessir?" Please sir, just let me go home.
"Make this 'Lady Deathwish' figure wish she never met you."
"Yessir."
But I don't want to hurt anyone anymore...
fade to black