I always resonated with the hermit crab.

Their whole lives are laser-focused on growth through destruction, advancement through abandonment, and using whatever around them to become stronger than the tools mother nature bestowed them with.

It’s pretty clear to see I wasn’t destined to become a warrior. A miniscule frame built to be thrown around, great for my mom’s line of work and even better for Zeus but not meant for the ring.

My skin shows how sheltered I was, no sun was kissing this alabaster vessel resembling a porcelain doll. That’s due to the very first shell I carried, a childhood home more constricting than nurturing. That shell was no longer protection, it was a burden creating the deepest scars.

I had to shed whatever comfort was left for any chance to grow. I left that house without looking back but the world’s hardships didn’t wait to expose themselves. My first new shell was one of my creation, that old black tattered dress you all saw when I first got here. Back when my only identity was a designer whose shell was clearly cracked. It was all I knew and when Zeus discarded me, it was all I had.

Betrayal and abandonment showed me beauty wasn’t enough, that torn dress was proof it was meant to be discarded. I did whatever I could to replace it. I threw myself in matches with multiple people to learn what I could and steal every move on my way to the top. I was the first person in Arcadia to wear any singles title In this place. It’s not because I simply desired it, it’s because I needed it to survive. Gold was the only thing that kept me alive in the beginning.

When I lost my first title, I used a photographer’s lust to get hands on a tag championship, it wasn’t worn long, just long enough as I was continuing to grow here in OSW.

Once the spell was broken, any sort of protection that creep behind a camera offered was gone, his narcy doll was dealt another crack she had to deal with.

My next shell was the original Uprising. A group that led me to more championships, an invasion briefcase, and eventually the strongest shell made of gold, the world championship.

I was on top of the world until I was betrayed and that golden shell was stolen. I was at my apex but what shell could shield me if I didn’t have that one?

It made me realize I had to go to the shell that trumps any gold in Arcadia, Zeus himself. I proved I was ready for Hera to finally regain her throne. No matter what was thrown at me, I survived longer than the man who took the world championship from me.

Yet, I don’t have that shell at the moment and if there’s something I’ve realized, even he can crack. I’ve grown beyond him like every other damn shell I’ve used to protect myself. While he’s in that hospital bed, It’s time to jump into the shell that no one can break, the shell that created the gods, chaos itself, Pandemonium.