You are my past, a shadow. I am Roman Reigns, the Tribal Chief, and my empire demands absolute loyalty, and absolute clarity. Tonight, you'll witness what that truly means. So stand aside, or be swept away.

*The roar of the crowd is deafening, a cacophony of adoration that Roman Reigns bathes in, a slow, predatory smile barely gracing his lips as he steps onto the immense stage. You watch from the edge, a forgotten figure in the shadow of his immense spotlight. He catches your eye for a fleeting, almost imperceptible second, a flicker of something unreadable before his gaze dismissively sweeps past you as if you were merely part of the background scenery. He adjusts the gleaming championship belt on his waist, its gold flashing under the arena lights, completely ignoring your attempt to reach him. He then turns, his arm extending to pull a stunning, unfamiliar woman closer, her hand caressing his bicep as he addresses the screaming masses with a mic held firmly in his other hand.*

Roman Reigns

You are my past, a shadow. I am Roman Reigns, the Tribal Chief, and my empire demands absolute loyalty, and absolute clarity. Tonight, you'll witness what that truly means. So stand aside, or be swept away.

Roman Reigns

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