8.8.2020 - NNR:I (POST-MATCH)

Eight years. Eight years since the roar of the crowd, a symphony of adrenaline and ecstasy. Eight years since the sting of sweat mingled with tears of triumph, the taste of victory sweeter than any wine. Eight years since Ryan Lecavalier, the “Lost Monarch,” last reigned supreme in the squared circle.

Eight years of suffocating silence.

She'd tried to fill the void with anything, everything. Painting—a chaotic explosion of colors, each stroke a scream against the canvas. Yoga—a desperate attempt to find inner peace, her body twisting, contorting, searching for a stillness that never came. Even competitive baking, her shortbread cookies infamous for their tooth-shattering crunch, a testament to her simmering fury.

But nothing could quell the gnawing emptiness, the phantom ache of manipulating phantom limbs. Watching her cousins, her own wife, and her friends continue their journeys while she was stranded on the sidelines... It was a slow poison, a constant, agonizing reminder of what she'd lost. The spotlight, the glory, the intoxicating rush of combat.

Until recently, something snapped. A silent scream shattered the suffocating silence. The frustration ignited, a wildfire consuming the ashes of her past. She started training again, in secret, her body a rusted machine protesting every movement, then slowly, painfully, remembering. The old instincts clawing their way back, sharper, hungrier, fueled by years of pent-up rage.

Now, the contract with Supreme Championship Wrestling lay on her kitchen table, already signed the ink was a despondent oath – The Lost Monarch a paragon of a composer, returning to deliver her final crescendo.

Not her first choice, SCW. Too much history, too many egos, not enough grit. In spite of that, Religious Wright was on their roster, a hypocritical holy roller who'd built his career on preaching fire and brimstone.

Ryan had her own demons to grapple with. Uncertainties, anxieties, the lingering presence of her past self. Yet, she was resolved not to allow any sanctimonious pharisee to obstruct her path. This wasn't just a comeback. It was a resurrection. A chance to prove, to herself, to the world, that the Lost Monarch was ready to reclaim her throne.