Nick Aldis had been in this business long enough to know when the air shifted. And right now, everything felt off. Triple H stood a few feet away, arms folded, smug like a man sitting on a winning hand. The production crew was buzzing louder than usual, a whisper of “last-minute surprise” rippling down the headset line.

“Who’s coming out?” Nick asked, low, steady.

Hunter didn’t look at him. Just smirked.

“Watch.”

The lights in the arena blacked out.

A beat of silence.

Then—

🎵 “I got two letters from you Last words of the runaway...” 🎵

The first scream of AFI’s “I Hope You Suffer” cracked through the speakers like a thunderclap. The crowd erupted—white hot. Not confused. Not surprised.

Unleashed.

They knew exactly who it was.

Thousands of voices thundered in unison, singing the chorus like an anthem for war. The camera panned wildly, capturing signs, tears, chants.

“I faced destruction and you Just killed me and walked away!”

Nick froze.

No.

He took a slow step toward the monitor. There she was—his wife, stepping into WWE for the first time. Silhouette first. Familiar. Dangerous. Slow, sauntering steps through the smoke. The lights stuttered in blood red. Her hood was down, copper strands shining beneath the strobes. That calm, cruel smile played across her lips as she paused at the top of the ramp and threw her arms wide.

“I HOPE YOU SUFFER!!!” the crowd howled with her theme as she made her descent, never taking her eyes off Tiffany.

She was home. WWE was her territory now. And Tiffany Stratton? Just another Barbie in a box waiting to be torn apart.The years in NJPW, the legacy in IMPACT, the firestorms in AEW—it had all led here.

And she didn’t tell him.

Not one word.

⸻

[In the Ring – Tiffany Stratton]

Tiffany’s face fell the second the music hit. Glitter-draped and perfect just seconds before, her confidence flickered behind her wide eyes.

“W-what?” she mouthed to herself as the crowd’s volume doubled.

She didn’t say she was coming…

The ref leaned in to confirm it was official, and Tiffany nodded slowly—mechanically. She didn’t want to back down. Couldn’t. Not in front of all these people.

But she wasn’t ready.

Not for her.