[The scene opens in the candle-lit sanctuary of The Cornerstone Church. Shadows flicker along the cold stone walls, dancing with the flames as a soft rumble of distant thunder echoes. Reverend Ezekiel Graves stands before the altar, his hands resting on a worn Bible, his gaze cold and unyielding.]
“Klaus Way… you enter the Ring King Tournament thinking it’s just another spectacle. Another stage for your circus of deception, where you parade your oddities, weaving illusions, convincing yourself you’re untouchable. But this is no performance, Klaus. No… you’re stepping into judgment.”
[Graves lifts his head, eyes gleaming with righteous fire, his words resonating through the hallowed chamber as though spoken to the heavens.]
“You’ve spent your life wrapped in falsehoods, charming the masses, believing you could walk through this world without consequence. But in the eyes of God, there is no veil thick enough to hide your sins. No curtain to shield you from His gaze. Every lie, every act of deceit, every sin you’ve buried in the shadows will be laid bare and there is no escape.”
[Graves takes a slow step forward, his words hanging heavy in the air, each syllable carrying the weight of divine judgment.]
“This tournament, Klaus, is no path to glory. It’s not for the adoration of men. It’s a trial a crucible where the soul is tested, the heart weighed. You? You’ve already been found wanting. You play the fool, pretending to wear the crown of a king, but a true king bears the weight of his people. You? You carry nothing but vanity, deceit, and empty promises. That will be your downfall.”
[Graves’ voice deepens, his intensity rising as he walks slowly across the altar, his hand gesturing to the cross above him.]
“You think this ring is your stage, that your charm and charisma will shape the outcome. But you fail to understand that you’re not in control here. The Ring King Tournament is no place for illusions, no place for games. This is sacred ground, Klaus a place for reckoning. I have been chosen to deliver that reckoning.”
[Graves stops, turning toward the camera, his expression fierce and unrelenting, like a storm ready to break.]
“You walk into this tournament wearing the crown of a fool, but when that bell tolls, you will fall like the rest. The circus you’ve built, the lies you’ve spun – they will crumble before you. When the dust settles, there will be no throne, no crown, no kingdom. There will be only judgment….MY judgment.”
[Graves’ voice lowers, cold and deliberate.]
“You cannot charm your way out of this, Klaus. You cannot deceive the hand of God. You will kneel, not as a king, but as a sinner. When the time comes… May God have mercy on your soul, Klaus Way, because I will not.”
[The flickering candles cast long shadows as the distant thunder grows louder, echoing through the church. The camera lingers on Graves, his expression unwavering, before the scene fades to black.]