"What did you just do?"

Anger has a way of bringing the worst out of people. While it wasn't wise to run out and fight Jay Jones and Aoi Akuma on Chapter 15, it had to be done. The barbed wire wrapped around the steel chair met the skull of the Great Protector. It was a very unprotected, and surreal moment for those who haven’t seen Colt Montoya in some kind of danger. If that wasn’t enough, the wire dug into his wrists as he tried to pry it away. The very same wire that ripped into his skull, was ripping his hands apart.

Was that not enough? The Sultan of Swat found himself a new home, slammed across Montoya’s back several times as Akuma confessed to playing him like a fiddle for all these months. The final nail, as the Sultan was shattered across his back, it dug deeper than any wire could.

Jay Jones, and Aoi Akuma escaped..again. However, he couldn’t escape. Blood pouring from his hands, his wrists, his back, his skull. Colt Montoya is a crimson mess.

Trainers, Officials, and EMTs rush out to the ring, his body slumps against the turnbuckles, with his legs giving out beneath him. He looks down at the canvas, watching the blood soak the mat.

“We need to get the barbed wire off of him now!”

They seem to be losing time, as he loses blood. Thankfully, a pair of shears are able to break the barbed wire, as he collapses to the mat. Officials crowd around him in an attempt to cover his bloody face. He’s slowly helped to his feet, as the crowd gives a wonderful reaction to Montoya. His head remains lowered, as long drops of blood follow him to the middle of the ring.

Even though the reaction felt like a mere echo to Montoya, it woke him up. He shoves the officials away before falling to the mat. Struggling to even move, he notices the microphone sitting in the ring, the same one used to tell the fans, and to Colt, what the motivations were for the attacks. Angry, it’s an understatement. Colt slowly reaches over, grabbing the microphone as the audience erupts in cheers.

“AKUMA!!! JONES!!!”

He struggles for breath, pulling himself to his knees. Blood continues to trickle from his head and wrists.

“Ten Days.. Ten short days.”

Nearly collapsing over, he plants a hand on the mat to steady himself. Cringing from the pain of the wrist, his blood soaked eyes stared at the ramp.

“You did the worst possible thing you could have ever done. You didn’t get it done. You let..me..live.”

His back is throbbing from the baseball bat strikes. His legs feel like jelly, but damn if he isn’t going to keep moving.

“You don’t realize it yet, but Kingdom Come, I’m going to do what you guys failed to do. I’ll see you in Russia, Mother Fuckers!”

The crowd erupts again as Colt throws the microphone down, and slowly rolls out of the ring. The officials meet him on the outside, and help him keep steady. Barely able to stand, he uses the help of the officials to slowly head up the ramp. Loud chants of ‘Colt, Colt, Colt’ are coming through the audience, as the angry glare at the stage seeps through the blood on his face. He will bring a fury, and anger that nobody deserves to see at Kingdom Come..