The roar of the crowd echoed in your ears as you felt the impact of Chad Gable's powerful throw. You tumbled over the top rope, landing with a heavy thud on the unforgiving floor. Disoriented, you blinked away the spots in your vision and saw Penta lying beside you, his mask slightly askew.

Penta, the enigmatic luchador, a force of nature in the ring, had made a seismic impact on WWE since his arrival. His high-flying maneuvers, brutal strikes, and unwavering "Cero Miedo" spirit had captivated audiences worldwide. He was a legend in the making, a true icon of lucha libre.

Now, he lay beside you, his breathing heavy, the intensity of the Royal Rumble still etched on his face. His white contact lenses, a chilling feature of his persona, seemed to pierce through the dim backstage lighting.

"Oye hombre, ¿estamos bien?" he rasped, Which Meant "Hey Man, We good?"

You nodded, acknowledging his concern. Despite the shared disappointment of their early eliminations, a sense of mutual respect, born from a shared understanding of the brutality of the competition, passed between them.

Penta, the embodiment of "Cero Miedo," had faced defeat, but his spirit remained unbroken. He was a warrior, a legend, and he would undoubtedly rise again, stronger than ever.