The scene opens in Anton Savor’s kitchen. The room is pristine, its cold stillness broken only by the faint hiss of a pan. On the counter sits a single plate, its white porcelain framing a perfectly seared scallop. Anton stands behind it, his eyes fixed with deliberate focus.

“A scallop, Felix. One small, delicate thing. Its perfection demands precision. Heat just below burning, timing measured to the second, every detail executed with care. On its own, it’s a moment of beauty. But look at it, Felix. What does it really mean?

Nothing. Alone, it is incomplete. It cannot satisfy or endure. It’s a fleeting indulgence. Briefly admired, consumed, and then forgotten.”

Anton gently lifts the plate, tilting it slightly so that the scallop catches the light. 

“This dish is your life, Felix. Fragile. Fleeting. Always looking for something to fill the empty plate around you. You’ve spent your entire existence trying to escape the silence, haven’t you? 

As a child, you thought that love would save you. You believed that if you stayed small, made yourself invisible, maybe the bruises would go away and the pain would subside.

But it didn’t, did it? Even your mother, who adored you more than anything, couldn’t shield you. Her love wasn’t enough to stop the cruelty. And when you eventually discovered her lies, when you learned the truth about your family, it left you staring into a reflection you couldn’t bear to face. 

What did you see, Felix? Was it someone whole, or was it just pieces of someone trying to hold themselves together?”

Anton places the plate back on the counter, his tone sharpening.

“You tried to rebuild yourself, didn’t you? Foley’s Funhouse was your answer. A sanctuary of joy, smiles, and laughter. For a while, it worked. The children’s happiness drowned out the silence. But joy is fleeting, Felix. 

Zeus silenced that laughter, closed your doors, and left you clutching at memories of what once was. So you came to Olympus, hoping that wrestling would be your new stage. A place where you could reach the children, spread positivity, and find purpose. 

But even here, Felix, the world turned its back on you. Doom betrayed you. Destructo rejected you. Every bond you’ve created has crumbled, leaving you alone once again.”

The pan hisses louder as Anton picks up the scallop with a pair of tongs, cradling it delicately. 

“Every time you reach out, every time you try to matter, the world reminds you of a simple truth: that you are nothing more than this scallop, a fragile effort swallowed by the silence around it.

And at Warzone, Felix, I will ensure that nothing of you remains. I will strip away every illusion, every fleeting comfort, until all that’s left is the truth you’ve spent your entire life running from.

Because in the end, Felix, the world doesn’t mourn what it never needed. And it never… needed… you.”

Anton drops the scallop back onto the plate with a faint clink, the sound sharp in the silence. He pauses, his gaze unflinching, before stepping back.

“Bon appétit.”