Forgotten Warrior...a call to arms!

A face, we've seen before. Eyes closed, still. Floppy white hair falling over it, ears peeking through. Lips painted silver, partly obscured by a half face mask, black but with a red design. The mask covers the right side of the face, on it's brow a symbol like a number three with a dot in the bottom half. Intricate, like a serpent or dragon.

The eyes flock open and we see both eyes are cat-like. The right one red, the left one silver. The stare, burning bright. Telling.

"I have heard the rumours...I have seen the signs...a challenge has been made...a cry has been heard..."

The twisted smile of old is firmly in place.

"Forgotten Warrior...forgotten for a reason...I've heard you call David out. That's fine. The Reaper is his own man. He will answer it in time. But The Prince cannot let the slight go...

The slight that we are all the puppets of Shand! I assure you that The Prince is the slave to nobody. Is nobody's, how did you so eloquently put it, 'bitch'. Funny how, for all your moody posturing, you simply resort to the same tired insults that we have heard before.

So, I call you out. Just as I did with Rob Arnold. I call you the same thing I called Arnold: a coward...hiding away. I have still to hear from Rob...so, for now, my focus is on you..."

A hand, clad in a silver gauntlet reaches up and takes off the half mask.

"Rob Arnold. At the PPV you will will see Infinity's Gaze up close. Until then, I have removed my mask...Forgotten Warrior, have you the conviction to do the same?"

The twisted smile remains as we fade to black.