Under the dim glow of the Mortuary, C.J. Thorpe stands.

“My mom always tried to take care of me, to teach me life’s lessons,” C.J. starts, his voice low, raw. “There’s one thing she used to tell me that’s stuck in my head recently. I didn’t get it when she told me, but now I get it.”

He pauses, the memory bitter on his tongue.

“C.J., in this world, there are two kinds of people: the ones who start something and see it through, and the ones that don’t. You finish what you start, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it breaks you. Cause if you don’t, your failures will finish you.”

He lets that sit in the air a moment

“I’ve lived that. Day in and day out. Every trial, every drop of blood. I’ve been broken over and over, but I finish what I start. That’s what leaves a legacy—when you find out the measure of a man. But you… you never learned that lesson, Gravedigger.”

C.J.’s voice sharpens.

“You started shit with my old man, but you couldn’t finish it. Left him bleeding, but still breathing. You wouldn’t, or couldn’t, finish the job. And my mom… my goddamn mom…”

His voice breaks, fury building.

“She was right there, a sitting duck, and you didn’t have the balls to finish. Left her shattered but alive. And now you think you can finish me? You think you’ve finally found the balls to finish something?  Hell no, that’s where you’re dead wrong.”

C.J. steps forward, his face now fully visible, his eyes like steel.

“I told all of Arcadia I’d win Lambs to the Slaughter—and I fucking did. I finished the job. I told them I’d become World Champion, and now the gold’s around my waist. And now I’m telling you—no, I’m promising you—that you’re going to pay for what you did to my mom.”

The camera shifts slightly, revealing C.J. is standing over the grave he dug weeks ago for Gravedigger.

“See that grave, Gravedigger? My hands might have dug it, but it’s your failure that’ll fill it. Your failure to finish dad. Your failure to finish mom. Mom knew the truth of it, if you don’t finish what you start, it’ll finish you. ‘Any grave but my own’? Fuck that—there’s your fucking grave.”

C.J. steps into the light, his face now fully illuminated, eyes locked onto the camera.

“I’m not just gonna beat you, Gravedigger. I’m gonna fucking end you. Vendetta was just a taste. Because I’m the man my mom talked about, the one who finishes. I’m gonna put you in this hole, I’m gonna bury you under six feet of your own failures. And when that first shovel full hits your chest, just know—it ain’t just dirt. It’s every unfinished job you’ve ever left. Every time you couldn’t finish. Every fucking failure.”

“And then you’ll know—this ain’t just your grave. It’s your goddamned legacy.”

He looks back to the grave one last time.

“Cause you don’t leave a legacy by digging graves.”

“You leave it by filling them.”