You keep sayin’ you’ve been through hell, Jackson. Every time life throws another tragedy at you, you stamp your badge on it and call it damnation. You carry your pain like it’s fire, like it’s proof you’ve already burned.

But I’m here to tell you something that’s gonna cut deeper than any truth you’ve ever heard— You don’t know hell.

You thought you were in hell when Jasper Redgrave tortured you and took your mentor, Riggs, right out from under you. You weren’t. That wasn’t hell. That was lesson one.

You thought you were in hell when you found out your brother was still alive, sitting on Deathrow, rotting in the darkest corners of Arcadia. You weren’t. That was just the weight of guilt.

You thought you were in hell when they handed you the star, made you Sheriff, and told you to clean up a world that don’t want to be clean. You weren’t. That was just a man wearing a badge with no bullets left.

You thought you were in hell when Redgrave killed CJ Thorpe, when he snapped his life away like it was nothing. You weren’t. That was just a page turning.

And now… Now you think you’re in hell ‘cause your own father—the man who should’ve stood behind you—joined the man who broke you.

But Jackson… This ain’t hell.

Not yet.

You think pain is hell. You think loss is hell. You think betrayal is hell.

But I’ve walked through real hell.

I’ve toiled in the boiling stone fields where time don’t move. I’ve felt fire kiss my back for what felt like eternity. I’ve dragged the weight of a thousand sins behind me like Sisyphus, pushing the same damn boulder up the same damn hill over and over again, just to watch it fall.

You’ve cried. I’ve melted. You’ve bled. I’ve burned. You’ve lost. I’ve been forgotten by time itself.

So when we step into that Hell in a Cell match at Warzone… Don’t you dare call what came before this hell. Don’t you dare pretend like you’ve already survived it.

Because what I bring with me into that cell… It isn’t pain. It isn’t grief. It isn’t vengeance. It’s hell incarnate.

It’s the chains that bind your soul to suffering. It’s the flames that don’t die when the match ends. It’s the agony that lingers, even when the lights go out and the cameras cut away.

You’re gonna feel the cage close in like fire on all sides. You’re gonna feel the weight of your father’s betrayal, your brother’s death, your own failure—all at once.

And when I stand over your broken body, and the flames of that cage glow in my eyes… Then, and only then…

You’ll be able to say you’ve been to hell.

Because I will have taken you there.

And you won’t walk out the same.

You’ll crawl… if you crawl at all.

And every step you take for the rest of your life will be a reminder—

That Tombstone gave you a taste of something eternal. And it burned all the way down.