Jack’s trapped in the dark, man.
Buried by that bastard Redgrave’s shovel.
I’ve been there. Not just with Jasper, but my life has been one darkness after another.
It’s a dark that tries to choke out every flicker, every spark of light that dares to shine.
Deep down in that hellhole Death Row, buried beneath layers of cold steel and colder hearts… Every damn day, they tried to snuff out my spirit, to bury me alive in a tomb of despair and silence.
But here’s the thing—when you’re down there in the void, that’s when your light’s gotta shine the brightest.
And in that suffocating darkness, under the weight of Arcadia’s filth, my flame didn’t just survive; it thrived.
It burned with a rage, with a purpose that regular folk could never understand. I dug through the dirt of my past, clawed through the lies, the corruption.
Each handful of decay wasn’t just a fight to breathe; it was a battle for my soul.
And now? Now I stand here before you, a man forged in the darkness, my light blinding those who dare look my way.
But all I see are motherfuckers like Gravedigger running around.
And it feels a whole damn lot like the Death Row, like Zeus.
Like Redgrave.
Gravedigger digs his little graves, burying Tombstone’s dead under earth and shadow.
But what he really buries is light—the light in their eyes, the light of their spirits. He’s not just putting bodies in the ground; he’s trying to bury hope itself.
So, Gravedigger, I hope you’re listening. You and your bitch Malakai, you’re in the business of darkness, lording over it, thinking you can snuff out the light around you, that you just cover it up and it goes away.
But I’m the proof, the living, breathing defiance that says you can bury a man, but you can’t bury his fight.
You can’t bury his light.
You’re walking around OSW, swinging your shovel, thinking you’ll just bury every other asshole out there six feet under.
But all you’re really doing is planting seeds, seeds of rebellion, seeds that grow in the dark, fed by the very shadows you cast.
And just like I rose from my grave on Death Row, I’m gonna rise from any pit you throw me into.
Because that’s where you and I differ, ‘Digger.
You ain’t the only one who knows how to dig.
I’ve been digging my whole life. Digging for justice, for a breath of clean fucking air.
And every time I get knocked down, every time I get buried, I dig my way back up.
Every. Fucking. Time.
Your graves? They ain’t deep enough.
My darkness? It was a hell even you can’t imagine.
And you know what grows in the dark, Gravedigger? What thrives beneath the surface, fed by the shadows and the rot?
Rebellion.
Defiance.
Light.
Life.
And that’s what I am, Gravedigger.
I’m life. The good, the bad, and ugly.
You better go back to the dead, ‘Digger, cause the Cade boys are still living.
And when we’re done, the only grave you’re digging will be your own.
Trust me.