Live from the Allen Fieldhouse | Lawrence, KS | Crowd Size: 16,301
SEGMENT ONE
Last week after Dynamite went off the air:
The footage is black and white, shot with handheld cameras. There is no commentary, and the sounds in the background come from the raw audio.
The timestamp at the bottom of the screen reads “Monday, July 14, 2025. 11:08 p.m. EST.” Fans are on their feet, still buzzing from the shock of Bobbly Lashley’s Gold Rush Ladder Match Contract cash in.
The Hurt Syndicate’s theme song has looped, indicating that Lashley’s celebration has lasted minutes after Dynamite went off the air. Finally, Lashley stands tall at the top of the ramp, with MVP on his left and Shelton Benjamin on his right. He proudly wears the AEW World Heavyweight Championship as he turns to face the ring one last time, for just a moment. With a satisfied grin at the carnage they have caused, MVP pats Lashley’s shoulder as the three exit through the curtain.
The footage pans to ringside, where Matt and Nick Jackson groggily sit up on the outside, dazed and trying to piece together what just happened. We see Hangman Adam Page slowly coming too, his eyes wide in horror and his chest heaving.
Page pushes himself to his knees, sweat and blood streaked across his face and matted in his hair. As he stumbles to his feet, the reality of what’s transpired begins to hit him like a shotgun blast.
Hangman Adam Page: [yelling to himself, off mic] No…. NOOOOO! GODDAMN IT!
Page slams his fist on the mat. Once, twice, and again and again, each time hitting harder. He picks himself back up, limping, barely balanced but filled with rage. He steps through the ropes as the Bucks watch him enter the timekeeper’s area.
Page starts hurling chairs around ringside, before flipping the timekeeper’s table violently into the barricade. Fans jump back in horror, afraid of being struck. Page tosses a monitor off commentary’s desk as the crowd gasps.
Matt Jackson gets to Page and tries to grab him by the shoulder. Though everyone is off-mic, the proximity of the cameraman picks up the audio.
Matt Jackson: [firm, but cautious] Hangman, stop. It’s over. Let’s go, man—
Hangman rips away, his chest heaving like a wild animal.
Hangman Adam Page: Get the fuck off me! They screwed me! Where the hell were you guys?!
Nick tries to cut in, arms raised in a de-escalating gesture. However, a fan in the front row yells something inaudible but clearly provocative, as Hangman turns from the Bucks, his eyes wild and deranged.
Hangman Adam Page: What the fuck did you say to me?
The fan repeats himself.
Fan: You deserved it!
Without hesitation, Hangman spits on the fan! The crowd explodes with boos and gasps, as security starts to swarm the area. A much louder “you deserved it!” chant begins, as the whole crowd gets in on the provocation.
Matt and Nick immediately grab his arms, trying to pull him back. Hangman thrashes violently, flinging one of them off, nearly punching a guard. Finally, it takes five security guards and the Bucks combined to force him toward the ramp.
Just as he is removed from the ringside area, he grabs another chair and hurls it. It crashes into the ring post with a sickening metallic thud. The last shot is of the ring in ruin, the AEW banner half torn off the announce table, and a single overturned monitor sparking faintly in the wreckage.
The footage cuts to a live shot of Master Splinter’s office, where the Acting Director of Operations sits facing the camera.
Master Splinter: What you have just witnessed was not easy to watch. I understand that. It wasn’t easy for me either. Hangman Adam Page has been a proud competitor, a cornerstone of this company, and a man who’s fought his way through hell and back to earn his shot at the AEW World Heavyweight Championship. I have not always agreed with Mr. Page’s choices, but I’ve always respected him as a talent.
He pauses, taking a breath.
Master Splinter: That said, what happened after Dynamite 50: Clash of Champions went off the air last week, it simply crossed a line. In his frustration, in his heartbreak, Hangman not only destroyed property and endangered staff, but most disturbingly—he spat on a fan.
Splinter shakes his head in disappointment.
Master Splinter: I understand emotions were running high. I understand dreams were shattered. But we do not—and we will not—tolerate that kind of behavior in All Elite Wrestling. I chose to show you this footage not to humiliate Hangman, but to make it clear why what comes next is necessary.
There’s a heavy silence for a moment, as Splinter searches for his words.
Master Splinter: Effective immediately, Hangman Adam Page is suspended without pay for 30 days. Furthermore, if either the Young Bucks or Bryan Danielson and Kenny Omega interfere in any scheduled match… I will have no choice but to apply the same punishment. As long as I’m in this position, actions will have consequences.
He straightens up in his chair, the gravity of his role clear in his posture.
Master Splinter: Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy tonight’s broadcast.
The opening video concludes and the pyro explodes as Arn Anderson and Kevin Kelly welcome us back to Dynamite! Anderson says we’re only seven days removed from the season four premiere, and the fallout from last week’s show continues to be felt throughout the wrestling world. Kelly says we’re live from the University of Kansas, and we’ve sold out the largest indoor basketball arena in the state!
Anderson says it’s going to be a great night of action, with the in-ring debut of the Young Bucks as they take on the Hardy Boys in our main event tonight! Two of the best teams to ever compete will go all out to make a good first impression in AEW, and as we’ve just learned, Danielson and Omega are barred from interfering, unless they wish to suffer the same fate that Hangman Adam Page suffered from for his actions after the show concluded last week.
Kelly says that applies to the Bucks as well, as Bryan Danielson will go one on one with Ilja Dragunov tongiht, with the winner getting a shot at LA Knight’s Television Championship next Monday! But first, we’re kicking things off with a hardcore fatal four-way for the Knockouts Hardcore Championship!
Before Jane Mouse can begin with the introductions to the opening contest, the Hurt Syndicate’s music hits. MVP steps out through the curtain, sharply dressed in an expensive suit. At his sides are Shelton he new AEW World Heavyweight Champion, Bobby Lashley. Lashley walks with confidence, gold over his shoulder, dead-eyed focus on the ring. The trio makes their way down the ramp, controlled and deliberate. MVP smirks behind his sunglasses as they enter the ring.
The music cuts. MVP raises a microphone, letting the boos die just enough to speak.
MVP: Let me make something very clear right off the bat… Three and a half months. That’s all it took. Three and a half months for Bobby Lashley and Shelton Benjamin to walk into BWM Inc., look around at the so-called elite… and change this company forever.
He paces, gesturing toward Lashley, who stands stone-faced with the title on his shoulder.
MVP: I stood in this ring Memorial Day weekend and I told all of you, and everyone in that locker room, exactly what we came here to do. We weren’t here to shake hands. We weren’t here to make friends. We came here… to hurt people.
He hands the mic off to Lashley, who adjusts the title on his shoulder and steps forward.
Bobby Lashley: Last week, I crushed Hangman Adam Page’s dream. Crushed it like a beer can under my boot.
He smirks, scanning the audience.
Bobby Lashley: It wasn’t personal. He wasn’t special. He was just in the way. I saw my opening—and I took it. That’s what champions do.
He raises the belt for emphasis.
Bobby Lashley: I’m the physical embodiment of Adam Page’s depression.
Every ounce of self-doubt he’s ever felt. Every failure. Every time he’s been left behind by his so-called friends. I am that weight on his chest—and I’m just getting started.
The crowd boos louder now. MVP applauds, smug.
Bobby Lashley: The Hurt Syndicate isn’t done. More people will fall. More dreams will die. And every single one of them will learn the same lesson… You can’t stop what you don’t understand.
The crowd erupts as “Elevated” hits, and the Aerial Assassin Will Ospreay bursts through the curtain, a microphone already in hand. He paces about halfway down the ramp, never breaking eye contact with Lashley. His tone is sharp, his energy electric.
Will Ospreay: You know, Bobby… I grew up in the streets of Essex, England. Didn’t have much. Didn’t expect much. But what I did have was fight… And I’ve never shied away from one.
Ospreay takes a few paces down the ramp, as the crowd continues to cheer him on.
Will Ospreay: And now that Hangman’s out of the picture? You and your Hurt Syndicate are the only thing between me and that AEW World Heavyweight Championship!
He points directly at the belt on Lashley’s shoulder.
Will Ospreay: I said it at Starrcade, and I’ll say it again. This was never about Hangman Page’s redemption. This was always—always—about my ascension. You’re not the final boss, bruv. You’re the placeholder.
The crowd roars. MVP scowls. Lashley stays calm, but his jaw tightens—just as suddenly—
“Voices” by Rev Theory hits.
The building explodes. A thunderous pop shakes the arena as Randy Orton makes his return to BWM Inc. Slowly, methodically, he steps out onto the stage, arms outstretched in signature form before pulling back a sly, confident smirk
The “RKO” chants echo. Orton raises a mic, waiting patiently as the noise settles just enough for him to speak.
Randy Orton: I didn’t come back to BWM Inc. to catch up with old friends… I came back for one reason, and one reason only… to be the AEW World Heavyweight Champion!
Ospreay laughs, not backing down an inch. He steps up the ramp now, meeting Orton face-to-face.
Will Ospreay: Bruv, that means you and me? We’ve got ourselves a bit of a problem, don’t we?
The crowd “oooohs” as the two stare each other down. Orton’s grin never fades.
Randy Orton: As it goes, I love solving problems.
Back in the ring, Lashley adjusts the title on his shoulder, stepping to the ropes, looking at both men with no fear. He slowly lifts the mic again.
Bobby Lashley: You both want me? I’m not hard to find. I’m going to be a fighting champion. So if either of you want to step up… you know where to find me.
Ospreay nods, eyes still locked on Orton. Orton tilts his head, calm and calculating. Lashley raises the AEW World Title high as all three men lock eyes—three apex predators circling the same throne as the scene fades.
A shaky camera shot opens outside on a truck stop diner in the middle of the night. There’s a grease-stained picnic table, and a flickering “Open” sign in the window. Puddles on the pavement are evidence that a storm just rolled through, and we can hear the hum of a single streetlight outside of the restaurant.
The camera jerks into focus. Mark Briscoe is pacing barefoot on wet pavement. Jay sits on the tailgate of a rusted pickup, taping his wrists, eyes dead ahead
Mark Briscoe: They say AEW’s got the best tag teams in the world. Deepest division out there. Line ’em up. We ain’t here to be part of it. We here to test every last one of ‘em.
The vignette cuts hard to the inside of the diner. It’s closed, chairs up on the table. The Briscoes sit in the dark, drinking black coffee from paper cups. There’s a “No Loitering” sign in view on the wall.
Jay Briscoe: While y’all been baskin’ in the spotlight, sellin’ out arenas. Makin’ money, we been grindin’ in shadows. No lights. No cameras. Just pain. Just fight. And a dream that one day… we’d get through the door into the World of Wrestling.
We see quick shots of Jay driving someone’s head into the mat in a tattered bingo hall ring, Mark laughing mid-match with blood through the gaps in his teeth, and a near-empty gym with 12 folding chairs and a busted speaker playing theme music.
Mark Briscoe: [voiceover] You wanna talk about tag team wrestling? We are tag team wrestling. Ain’t nobody in AEW more battle-worn, more beat-up, more ready than Dem Boys.
Back in the diner, Jay Briscoe looks directly into the camera.
Jay Briscoe: They ain’t want us. Said we were too raw. Too unfiltered. Didn’t look the part. Didn’t play nice. But now? Now we here. And it’s gonna get real uncomfortable, real fast.
The vignette cuts to the Briscoes in a beat up truck rumbling to life as Mark leans out the passenger window, yelling to no one in particular.
Mark Briscoe: We didn’t wait to be invited. We forced the door open. And now that we’re in? Ain’t nobody safe from what’s comin’.
The vignette concludes with white text on a black background:
“THE BRISCOE BROTHERS ARE ALL ELITE. BUILT FROM DIRT. HERE TO FIGHT. #DEMBOYS”
Match #1 | Knockouts Hardcore Championship
Molly Holly (C) vs. Kayden Carter vs. Shotzi Blackheart vs. Mandy Rose
As Molly Holly makes her entrance, she’s met with a respectful pop from the crowd, holding the Knockouts Hardcore Championship high above her head. She’s in war mode, a steel chair slung over one shoulder.
As the other contestants make their entrances, Anderson notes that Molly Holly won the Knockouts Hardcore Championship last week just as it appeared that Lady Love was about to relinquish it.
Kevin Kelly: These women all have something to prove tonight, as three of them are new to the company.
Arn Anderson: Somebody’s walking out hurt, and whoever leaves with the belt is going to earn every ounce of it.
The bell sounds, and it’s pandemonium from the start. Shotzi charges Mandy Rose, locking her in a tight headlock in the corner. Molly and Kayden meet in the center of the ring, as Molly swings the chair, drilling Kayden in the gut.
Kayden folds to the mat. Meanwhile, Mandy Rose and Shotzi have made their way to the outside, and Mandy grabs a trash can lid to fight her off. He launches it at Shotzi, hitting her in the jaw.
Kevin Kelly: That lid had velocity! Shotzi might be out cold already!
Mandy turns and eats a baseball slide from Molly, who then throws her into the barricade. Kayden’s already back up, agile as ever, vaulting off the top rope, hitting a twisting splash onto Molly on the outside! The crowd erupts.
Arn Anderson: You’re not going to want to blink during this one, Kevin. The action is coming fast and brutal!
Molly tries to slow things down, grabbing a bag from under the ring. She opens it and empties it onto the mat, as thumbtacks scatter across the ring. The bloodthirsty audience is delighted.
Kayden attempts a superkick, but Molly catches the leg, spins her, and hits a snap suplex right onto the tacks! Kayden lets out a shriek, back arched in pain, thumbtacks embedded in her skin.
Rose sees an opening, and hits a spinebuster onto to Molly! She covers, but Shotzi breaks up the count at two with a diving splash!
Mandy Rose is back in the mix, grabbing Shotzi for the Bed of Roses. Shotzi reverses it into a Codebreaker!
Molly Holly retrieves a rusted stop sign from under the ring, slamming it across Shotzi’s back. Kayden—still crawling—low-blows Molly from behind and spikes her with a reverse hurricanrana!
All four women are down, the ring littered with weapons, tacks, debris, and blood.
Arn Anderson: This is what the Knockouts Hardcore division is all about. You sign up for this, you’re signing up for hell.
Shotzi climbs to the top rope, looking for the kill on Kayden. She leaps for a coffin drop, but Molly springs up and hurls a chair at her midair!
Kevin Kelly: I think Molly Holly just decapitated Shotzi Blackheart with that chair!
Molly turns and hoists Kayden up… Molly-Go-Round from the second rope onto the stop sign!
She covers her…
1…
2…
3!!!
Winner: Molly Holly
Match Time: 8:17
Arn Anderson: Brutal, but quick work tonight for the champion, Molly Holly.
Kevin Kelly: Nothing against Lady Love, but damn is it nice having this division back in full swing! The champion has a target on her back, and these three women as well as the other Knockouts in the back are just waiting for an opportunity to strike!
SEGMENT TWO
Backstage, AEW Correspondent Renee Young is standing by with the AEW Television Champion, LA Knight.
Renee Young: I’m standing by with the brand-new AEW Television Champion, LA Knight. First off—congratulations. How are you finding BWM Inc. so far?
LA Knight: [smirking] Let me talk to ya! Renee, for years, I’ve been right there. Right on the edge. On the cusp of greatness. Yeah. I paid my dues, and I waited patiently for my opportunity. Well, Renee, I’m not waitin’ anymore.
He taps the championship belt with his palm.
LA Knight: This right here? This means the megastar is the workhorse champion, YEAH! This belt means I’m the standard of excellence in BWM Inc., YEAH! And I did it faster than anyone thought possible. But don’t get it twisted, Renee… this ain’t the end for me. No, no, no. This right here? This means that I’m the guy to beat around here.
Renee Young: Momentarily, we’ll find out your first challenger for next week—Bryan Danielson or Ilja Dragunov. Any thoughts on that matchup?
LA Knight’s eyes are locked in on Renee as he leans in.
LA Knight: I’ve been up and down the road with Dragunov. I know what makes him tick. I know what breaks him. He’s a warrior, no doubt, but I’ve got his number.
He takes a beat, before smirking again.
LA Knight: And Danielson? Hey, I’m a big fan. He’s a legend. But legends fall, Renee, and new legends take over. Fact is, next week in the main event of Dynamite, when that bell rings, Jane Mouse, Arn Anderson, Kevin Kelly? Hell, everybody’s sayin’… L! A! KNIGHT! YEAH!
Knight adjusts the belt on his shoulder once more, flashes a final grin at Renee, and turns to leave. Just as he takes a step, however, he comes face to face with Swerve Strickland standing in his path!
Swerve is cool and composed, grinning slightly. He glances at the title resting on Knight’s shoulder, then locks eyes with the champ. The air thickens with tension.
Swerve Strickland: [extending his hand] Allow me to formally introduce myself.
LA Knight grins, and shakes Swerve’s hand firmly.
LA Knight: I’ve been meanin’ to thank you for keeping the Hurt Syndicate outta my business last week.
Swerve shrugs casually.
Swerve Strickland: It’s the least I could do. Consider it a little welcoming gift. Congrats on the gold, too. Big moment. But just remember where you are now.
Swerve steps slightly closer, eyes narrowing.
Swerve Strickland: You know whose house this is… right?
Knight smirks. He doesn’t say anything as he starts to walk past Swerve. Before he gets more than a step away, Swerve grabs his shoulder, firm but not aggressive. Just a reminder.
Swerve Strickland: I’ll see you around.
Knight looks over his shoulder, still grinning—unchanged.
LA Knight: I’m lookin’ forward to it.
They hold the stare for another second before Knight walks off, leaving Swerve watching him go as the scene fades.
In the boiler room, a flickering utility bulb casts light on rusted pipes that gurgle and groan in the distance. Steam hisses from a broken valve nearby. Seated on an overturned crate in the middle of the room is Sean Olson, drenched in sweat, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locked onto the camera.
Sean Olson: [voice low, steady] I used to believe in legacy. In fighting for something bigger than yourself. I told myself I wasn’t chasing titles, I was chasing meaning… but, that was a lie. I see that now.
He takes a breath and continues.
Sean Olson: I’ve spent the last ten months choking on your name, Brandon. Every time it was in a headline, every highlight. Every little victory lap you and that leech Paul Heyman took, served as a reminder of what I used to be, and what I let you become.
He chuckles to himself.
Sean Olson: “The Forgotten.” That’s what you call yourself. Clever. Because it got people talkin’. Got Heyman tripping over himself to betray Brock Lesnar and to latch on to your resurrection, his silver tongue rewriting history. You painted yourself as a martyr… the man overlooked. But you weren’t forgotten, Brandon. You were ignored.
He shakes his head in disgust.
Sean Olson: I’ve watched from the distance, as the world pretended your career was some noble tragedy. Like you didn’t waste two decades sleepwalking through opportunity after opportunity while I was out there building something real. I gave my blood to this. I got discarded the second you decided to wake up and give a damn.
Sean Olsen: I’ve spent the last ten months buried under his name. Under his run. I watched the world applaud him as he hoisted the AEW World Heavyweight Championship up like it was some token of appreciation for surviving this long. And that, Brandon, that’s why I took it from you.
He stands slowly, walking towards the camera.
Sean Olson: We’ve taken a lot from each other over the years, haven’t we? Pride. Time. Blood. But there’s one thing neither of us has claimed… Closure. You want to be remembered? I’ll make damn sure of it. August 24th. Aftershock 2. Your name won’t fade. Not because of what you did… but because of what I did to end it.
Sean Olson: This is your last ride, brother. And I’m the man driving you off the cliff.
He stares into the camera for an uncomfortable amount of time, never blinking, as the scene cuts to black.
Match # 2 | #1 Contender for the AEW Television Championship
Ilja Dragunov vs. ‘The American Dragon’ Bryan Danielson
Kevin Kelly: Two of the most intense, unrelenting competitors in the world, right here. The American Dragon. The Mad Dragon. Only one can move on to challenge LA Knight next week.
Arn Anderson: You’re looking at two guys who don’t back down. They live for pain. They welcome it. Danielson’s been preoccupied for months with Adam Page, but tonight, that’s not going to be a factor.
Kevin Kelly: That’s right, Splinter said if there’s any interference, there will be consequences. So tonight, these two are just going to lay it all on the line for their chance at gold!
The match begins at a slow, measured pace. Danielson circles Ilja with caution, his eyes scanning for weakness. Ilja doesn’t blink, standing still, before suddenly exploding with a German Suplex that rocks Bryan, followed by a brutal lariat that nearly turns the American Dragon inside out.
Danielson scrambles to a knee, but Ilja’s already on him with a stiff kick to the head, followed by a barrage of wild, closed-fist strikes. Danielson absorbs a few, then fires back with European uppercuts, staggering Ilja momentarily. But Dragunov answers with a hard slap across the face.
Kevin Kelly: Did you hear that? Ilja just slapped the taste out of Bryan Danielson’s mouth!
Arn Anderson: Dragunov has something to prove tonight, especially after how dismissive LA Knight was a few moments ago.
Ilja hits back to back German Suplexes, but Danielson flips out of the third and responds with an arm drag, grounding Ilja for a brief second—long enough to land a knee to the ribs.
Ilja stuns Danielson with a big boot to the temple and another German Suplex, this one dropping Bryan on the back of his neck. He covers…
1…
2…
Danielson kicks out.
Ilja follows with a senton splash across Danielson’s ribs, then fires off a stiff forearm to the jaw and another to the back as Bryan leans against the ropes. Ilja traps him in the corner and lights him up with rapid-fire chops to Danielson’s chest!
Bryan surprises Ilja with a superkick that sends him into the ropes. Ilja rebounds, connecting with the Constantine Special! That flipping lariat nearly takes Bryan’s head as Dragunov again goes for the cover…
1…
2…
Danielson kicks out again.
Kevin Kelly: You’d think Danielson would be dead weight by the way he just collapsed from that, but somehow the dragon finds a way to continue in a match that’s been all Ilja from the jump.
Ilja grounds Bryan with a body scissors and adds a choke hold to squeeze the air out of him. Bryan reverses into a pin.
1…
2…
Ilja breaks free and snaps off a roundhouse kick to the side of Bryan’s head.
Taking control of Danielson’s wrist, Ilja hits him with a short arm lariat. He holds on, pulling him back up for another. Danielson pops up with desperation kicks to Ilja’s thighs and torso, peppering him with short, surgical strikes to the face. Ilja stumbles, Bryan charges—but Ilja leaps and cracks him with a jumping head kick.
Danielson counters moments later, spinning around Ilja’s body mid-grapple to drive Dragunov face-first into the mat. Both men collapse, heaving for breath.
Arn Anderson: Ilja doesn’t have an off switch. And Bryan? Bryan’s the smartest in-ring mind I’ve ever seen, but Dragunov is taking him to his limits tonight!
Kevin Kelly: An impressive debut for Dragunov thus far, in his first match with All Elite Wrestling after being drafted last month.
They trade stiff elbow shots from their knees, then rise to their feet, still swinging. Ilja avoids a chop and plants Bryan’s face into his knee, then hits the ropes and delivers a sharp lariat. Bryan stumbles back, rebounds—elbow barrage! Ilja answers in kind, then Bryan ducks a hook and nails a springboard DDT!
1…
2…
Ilja kicks out!
Danielson unloads with palm strikes in the corner, then climbs the middle rope, looking for something big. Ilja fires up and connects with a jumping kick! Bryan’s knocked loopy. Ilja climbs to the top for a moonsault!
1…
2…
Danielson kicks out!
Ilja climbs to the top again, looking for the coast to coast dropkick.
He leaps, but Danielson meets him meets him mid-air with a gut buster! As Dragunov writhes in pain, Danielson goes up top for a diving headbutt. At the last second, Ilja rolls out of the way and Danielson crashes hard to the mat.
Ilja hoists Danielson up and connects with a massive powerbomb! Bryan lands hard on his neck.
He covers, but Danielson again kicks out at two!
Arn Anderson: Ilja just powerbombed Danielson’s soul halfway out of his damn body, yet Danielson still kicked out!
They climb to the top again—Ilja wants a superplex, but Danielson slips underneath… he goes for the Avalanche Backdrop Suplex, but Ilja flips and lands on his feet.
Bryan turns around—Ilja charges—Torpedo Moscow! Danielson moves and Ilja crashes hard into the corner!
Dragunov is rattled, staggering out of the corner. Danielson catches him with the LeBell Lock in the center of the ring!
Ilja crawls, inch by inch, blood trickling from his mouth, but Bryan yanks back harder.
Kevin Kelly: Danielson’s going to break his damn jaw if Ilja doesn’t tap!
Ilja finally manages to roll through! He lifts Bryan off the mat and hits the Death Valley Driver into the corner! He charges at Danielson with the Torpedo Moscow, connecting at full speed!
1…
2…
2.9999!
Arn Anderson: You gotta be kidding me. Bryan Danielson is not human.
Ilja rolls to the outside, but Danielson follows. He leaps off the steel steps towards him, but Bryan dodges and Ilja crashes spine-first into the barricade.
Bryan rolls him back in and without hesitation, he connects with the Busaiku Knee!
1…
2…
3!!!
Winner: The American Dragon Bryan Danielson
Match Time: 22:07
Kevin Kelly: The American Dragon will face LA Knight next week on Dynamite! But my God, what did it take to get there?
Arn Anderson: Bryan survived hell tonight. Ilja Dragunov is going to be feeling that one for a long, long time. And LA Knight? He better bring something special—because Bryan Danielson’s marching to that title like a man possessed!
SEGMENT THREE
The camera drifts through the ruins of a once-grand opera house. Dust hangs in the air. The velvet seats are torn, the chandeliers swing in silence, and the only sound is the echo of high heels tapping slowly across the warped stage floor.
Timeless Toni Storm, wrapped in a fur coat, an unlit cigarette dangling from one hand, drapes the AEW Knockouts Championship over her shoulder like a royal burden. Her makeup is smeared in an artful way, as if applied by tragedy itself.
Timeless Toni Storm: [with a dreamy, drawing cadence] Becky… Lynch… Darling! You finally made it. I’ve waited so long, you know. I thought perhaps you’d forgotten me… but last week…. there you were! Bold as brass, walking through my door like you owned the place! What took you so long, sweetheart?
She chuckles softly, almost fondly.
Timeless Toni Storm: You and I… we have so much in common, don’t we? Two immigrants in a land of pretenders. On opposite sides of the world, we clawed. We bled, and creid our way to the top of this wretched little pyramid. You became The Man, a cultural force! A people’s champion! And me?
She runs her finger along the Knockouts Championship, lovingly.
Timeless Toni Storm: …I became timeless.
The camera follows her as she strolls the edge of the stage, her heels clicking like a metronome.
Timeless Toni Storm: And now, 34 days from now — at Aftershock 2 — you and I will finally share the same stage. The critics will call it a clash of icons. They’ll say it’s a dream. A spectacle. Art.
Timeless Toni Storm: But the truth, Becky? The truth is simpler… you came here, to the land of the elite, to take something from me…
She steps into a narrow shaft of light, eyes blazing.
Timeless Toni Storm: This belt isn’t a prop in my story. It is my story. I’ve suffered for it. Wept for it. Bled for it. And if I must… [she inhales sharply, her eyes wide with a serene madness] …I’ll die for it.
In the background, a single spotlight falls from a rusted beam, crashing in the distance. Storm doesn’t respond to it.
Timeless Toni Storm: Somewhere out there, in some living room, a little girl will be watching. She won’t know why her heart’s racing. Why her hands are shaking. But she’ll look at the screen and say —“ Holy shit. These bitches are crazy.”
Storm smirks, then suddenly snarls the last few words.
Timeless Toni Storm: So shine your boots, darling. Practice your footwork. Because when the lights come up— you and I… we’ve got a dance to finish.
Match #3 | Exhibition Match
The Young Bucks (Matt & Nick Jackson) vs. The Hardy Boyz (Matt & Jeff Hardy)
As the introductions are made, Arn Anderson and Kevin Kelly discuss what a victory could mean for both these teams, as they enter an increasingly crowded and competitive tag team division in AEW.
Kevin Kelly: We’re about to witness two of the most decorated tag teams in the sport collide in their first match in BWM Inc.
Arn Anderson: I tell you what, Kevin — when you talk about pioneers of tag team wrestling in different generations, you can’t write that history without the Hardys or the Bucks. This one’s gonna be fast, physical, and emotional.
Kevin Kelly: What about the Quests?
Arn Anderson: Who?!
The bell sounds and Matt Jackson and Matt Hardy start things off, circling each other with measured intensity. They lock up, and Matt Hardy gains the upper hand with a side headlock, but Matt Jackson shoots him off and leapfrogs into a slick arm drag. Hardy answers with one of his own. There’s a standoff as the crowd pops.
Kevin Kelly: Don’t mistake this for mutual respect. The Bucks clearly respect no one but themselves, and their friend Adam Page.
Arn Anderson: Both teams are making their BWM Inc. debuts tonight, and you only get one shot to make a first impression. The Bucks have already put themselves on the wrong side of things with the fans due to that friendship with Page, who, by the way, is now suspended!
Jeff and Nick tag in. Jeff immediately charges with a flying forearm that knocks Nick down. He hits the ropes again — another knockdown. Nick kips up, smirks, and mocks Jeff with a little dance of his own. Jeff doesn’t take kindly to that and levels Nick with a stiff clothesline. Jeff tosses Nick out of the ring and gestures to the crowd with the Hardys’ signature pose. Matt joins him, and together they mock the Bucks’ flexing pose.
The Bucks regroup outside. They look frustrated. Nick slaps Matt Hardy in the face upon re-entry — and Hardy fires up, tagging in and hitting a clothesline followed by a snap suplex. He tags Jeff, and the Hardys deliver a vertical suplex on Nick — onto Matt Jackson, knocking him off the apron!
Arn Anderson: Smart move by the veteran tag team… you don’t just beat the man, you use his partner as a weapon!
Jeff sets up Poetry in Motion, but Nick Jackson ducks away and Matt Jackson catches Jeff mid-air with a superkick! Matt Hardy grabs Matt Jackson, but Nick nails him with another superkick from the apron as The Bucks take over.
Nick Jackson launches Jeff Hardy into the turnbuckle hard, and tags in Nick for a top rope senton splash. They set up for a double team, but Jeff counters with a double clothesline out of nowhere. Jeff climbs the top rope, hits a twisting body attack on Nick, and tags in Matt Hardy.
Matt is on fire. He sends Nick flying into the turnbuckle. Jeff does the same to Matt Jackson. Matt Hardy pulls the rope down, and Jeff tosses Matt Jackson over the top rope. But as Matt turns, Nick kicks him in the face.
Nick rams Jeff’s head into the mat, then springs up with a superkick that knocks Jeff from the second rope onto the outside, crashing on both opponents. Nick follows up with a somersault dive from the top rope — perfect contact.
Kevin Kelly: Nick Jackson soaring through the sky like a human missile!
Back in the ring, Matt Jackson tags in and hits a running splash while Nick adds a double stomp for a close two-count on Matt Hardy. Jeff is still recovering outside. The Bucks go for the double V-Trigger, but Matt Hardy ducks! Nick accidentally knees his own brother! Jeff flies off the apron with a diving clothesline to Nick.
Matt Hardy lifts Matt Jackson onto the apron and hits Side Effect right on the edge. Jeff makes a tag and is legal. He charges with Poetry in Motion and nails it. But Matt Jackson grabs Hardy, slingshots him into the corner — Nick off the top rope with a double stomp! Jeff Hardy gets back up and hits a jawbreaker on Matt Jackson up top.
Jeff climbs. Swanton Bomb! But Matt Jackson rolls out of the way and hits Twist of Fate! Nick makes a quick tag, and flies off the top rope… Swanton Bomb! Cover!
1…
2…
NO! Jeff kicks out.
Arn Anderson: The Bucks just took their best shot, and Jeff Hardy said, “Not today!”
The Bucks regroup and call for the V-Trigger, but Jeff dodges! He comes back with a flying knee of his own. The Bucks recover, and hit double superkicks on both Hardys!
The Hardy Boyz crawl to their knees, defiant. They dare the Bucks to do it again. The Bucks oblige and hit another round of superkicks!
Nick Jackson covers Jeff Hardy once more.
1…
2…
Jeff kicks out!
Kevin Kelly: The Hardyz are refusing to stay down!
Frustrated, Matt Jackson rams Jeff into the steel steps. He signals to Nick — who climbs the top rope. But Matt Hardy is back and catches Nick with a powerbomb! Jeff sets Matt Jackson on the steel steps. Matt Hardy hits Jackson with a flurry of fists. Jeff goes to the top rope. Swanton Bomb onto Matt Jackson on the steel steps! The crowd is losing it!
Matt Hardy rolls Nick Jackson back inside, and Jeff Hardy hits a Twist of Fate! He covers.
1…
2…
Matt Jackson breaks it up just before the three!
The Bucks recover, double superkick to Matt Hardy! They drag Jeff up — Hyatt Driver! Nick hooks the leg.
1…
2…
3!!!
Kevin Kelly: A brutal, creative, and hard-fought war, but in the end, the Young Bucks prevail in their BWM debut. And you have to know, somewhere, the tag champs, The Gunns, are watching and taking notice!
Arn Anderson: hey needed this win, Kevin. With Hangman suspended, the Bucks have to show they can carry the load on their own… and tonight, they did just that. But make no mistake: the Hardys pushed them to the absolute edge.
Winners: The Young Bucks
Match Time: 19:01
Grainy, black and white security camera footage peers down a long hallway. At the far end, through a glass window of his office, we see the Acting Director of Operations, Master Splinter, and his brother Splidder locked in a heated exchange.
Splidder: [voice raised, body language sharp] I told you in June! I told you there was something the world needed to know about the Mouse family! And what did you do? Nothing. I sat by the phone for five damn weeks, waiting for a call that never came.
Master Splinter: [frustrated, pacing slightly] I wanted to call, alright? I meant what I said last week—I was drowning in work trying to pull together the season premiere, trying to—
Splidder: [cutting him off] You always have an excuse, don’t you? Always some noble little task shielding you from accountability. I’ve known you our whole lives, brother—I can tell when you’re hiding something. What is it?
Master Splinter: [snapping] I’m not hiding anything!
Splidder: [stepping forward] Bullshit. Are you on their payroll?
Master Splinter: [taken aback] That’s not—how can you even say that?
Splidder: Because you’re the one who started all this back in 2024. You went public about Benny’s dementia. You said the world needed to see the truth. And now? Now that the truth is messier and darker and probably damning—you want no part of it?
Master Splinter: [firm] I’m on the fans’ side. I’m on the talent’s side. I’m on the side of the business. I’ve got a chance to change how things are run in BWM Inc.—from the inside. No more tyrants. No more lies!
Splidder: [laughing bitterly] Change? You want to talk about change? The Harlem Turtles walked into your mansion last season. You think we all forgot that?
Master Splinter: [interrupting] That meeting wasn’t what you think it was.
Splidder: Then what was it? Because after that little chat, you magically came out of retirement. Got named Director of Operations. And the Turtles? The most principled team in this business? Sold their souls to Benny and Danhausen like it was a clearance sale. And you didn’t even blink.
Master Splinter: [growing desperate] What would you have me do?! Walk away? Hand it all back to Benny? Let everything fall into chaos?
Splidder: [glaring at him for a long moment] I’d have you remember who you are.
There’s a heavy, lingering silence. The camera picks up the hum of the fluorescent lights.
Splidder: [quiet, dangerous] I don’t know who to trust anymore. And until I do? I’m not telling you what I know. Not yet.
Master Splinter: [stepping forward] Wait—Splidder, come on. Don’t do this.
Splidder flips his chair back violently, before he storms out of the office, slamming the door. The camera lingers on Splinter, standing alone, breathing hard, his reflection caught in the glass.
The grainy black-and-white feed picks back up on the hallway, as Splidder exits the office. He rounds the corner, and immediately bumps into a figure standing just out of frame. He stumbles back instinctively, his breath catching as the camera pans to reveal Mr. Brodie Lee!
Lee stands silent, towering, his eyes locked on Splidder with an expression that’s unreadable. Splidder starts to raise his hands, apologetic, confused.
Splidder: Oh—sorry, I didn’t see you there. I’m just—
Lee doesn’t say a word. He simply stares through Splidder, then slowly reaches into the inside pocket of his pants. Splidder watches warily as Lee pulls out a folded white piece of paper.
Lee places it in Splidder’s hand, then turns and walks away—never looking back. Splidder, unsettled, unfolds the paper.
The camera slowly pushes in over his shoulder. Handwritten, in all caps:
“YOU’RE WASTING YOUR BREATH.”
World Of Wrestling: Murrey Universe 