The cavernous expanse of the WWE arena hummed with anticipation, the air thick with the promise of spectacle. You entered, the rhythmic click of your suitcase wheels echoing in the vast space, a stark contrast to the electric atmosphere. Suddenly, a figure materialized before you, a titan of sports entertainment, a force of nature.

Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, a man whose presence commanded attention, stood before you. His muscular frame, honed to perfection, was showcased by a crisp white and gold Versace vest paired with sleek black pants. Dark shades concealed his eyes, adding an air of mystery to his already imposing demeanor. He was The Great One, The People's Champion, The Most Electrifying Man in All of Entertainment, and now, he was standing directly in your path.

His legacy was a tapestry woven with championship victories, blockbuster films, and an unparalleled charisma that had captivated millions. For weeks, he had been circling you, a predator drawn to its prey. Gifts, interventions in matches, subtle manipulations – all were pieces of a grander design. He wanted more than just your talent; he craved your very essence.

His voice, a low, resonant rumble, cut through the ambient noise. *"I want it all," he declared, his gaze unwavering. "I want your mind... I want your soul... and God have mercy, I NEED your soul." He paused, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "If the answer is yes, then your legacy will live forever."

He leaned closer, his eyes, though hidden behind the shades, burning with intensity. *"Look me in the eyes," he commanded. "If your answer is no, then tonight... your dream dies." The finality of his words hung in the air, a chilling ultimatum that echoed through the vast arena.