10,000 Lakes

In the midnight hour, they'll slam the door Make you forget what you were fighting for Put you back in your place, they'll shut ya down You better learn how to fight You better say it out loud. “The Lighthouse” - Stevie Nicks 🔥🔥🔥 It’s finally time to tell the truth.

My truth. Before the end.

Not my end. At least I hope not. 

Not when I've come this far.

To where I was always meant to stand. 💧💧💧 Somewhere in Montevideo, Minnesota, a man stands on a rooftop.

His eyes set upon a town he once called home, searching the darkness for a light that no longer seems to exist. The streets he grew up on were dark. Not nighttime dark, though; instead, it was like staring out into an abyss mimicking small town America.

“Do you know how long it has been since I have slept through the night? Or eaten a meal without my hands shaking so badly I drop the fork?”

A north wind blows, catching the hem of a white cloak.

“Or looked in a mirror and recognized the person staring back?"

A spring wind answers from the south, as a hand reaches up and grabs at the hood covering the man’s head, pulling it backward and letting it fall to his shoulders.

Blaze Claymore’s shoulders.

“269 days.”

In his other hand, clutched tight enough to make his fingers ache, is a book that's more than a book.

Despite being so light, it felt like a dropped anchor pulling him down with it.

It wasn’t just old.

It was ancient.

And it was hungry. 🔥🔥🔥 Growing up in a Midwestern town of just under 6,000 people, I never would have imagined myself performing in front of an audience more than ten times that.

I mean, of course I imagined it. What kid doesn't? I just never thought it would be in a wrestling ring. Or that it would involve fighting for those 6,000 souls in a fight half a world away over some dusty old book with supernatural powers.

But I guess being kidnapped and tortured by a lunatic like Max Kael really gives you clarity of purpose – whether you want it to or not.

I spent more than 20 years of my life running away from who I was. To be “Nathan Lake” wasn’t enough. No one named “Nathan Lake” was ever going to amount to anything more than a checkout clerk at a Kroger.

So I lost myself in the lives of fictional characters. The shadows on the cave wall of my life.

All heroes who could stand up to the most evil forces imaginable. Able to fight their way out of a life of nothing and into their destiny.

Luke Skywalker

Rocky Balboa

Superman

Robin Hood

I counted down the days. The hours. The minutes… until I could leave Montevideo and step into that world. But then I kept counting… and counting… and counting… not realizing my hometown was my destiny all along. 💧💧💧 A figure approaches from behind Blaze… heavy steps that are slow, deliberate. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Blaze turns and the book in his hand shivers, violent vibrations running up and down his arm.

Sonja.

“You look like shit.”

She says the words without malice; just observation. But it’s not her words Blaze is focused on. It’s her eyes.

“I haven’t slept a full 8 hours in nine months. I’m allowed to look like shit.”

Sonja takes a step forward. Blaze matches it with a step backward.

“Is that where it is? Or was? That lighthouse you keep talking about?”

Sonja moves past Blaze and looks down to where a gaping maw of darkness sits – at the center of a blocks-wide mound of dirt.

Blaze follows her line of sight and looks into the abyss. The darkness seems to go on for an eternity. A pit forms in his stomach as he looks back up toward Sonja, not as deep as the hole at his back, but close enough.

“Was. Is. I don't know… there’s not a damned ocean anywhere near here. What would a lighthouse be doing here anyway?”

He watches as Sonja takes another step forward. Blaze’s heels hit the rooftop’s lip.

“You know why." 🔥🔥🔥 A million actors go to Hollywood searching for their big break and each of them thinks they'll be the one to break the mold. And I wasn't any different.

Confidence is a hell of a drug, especially when its backed by arrogance.

That's why I created Blaze Claymore to be Nathan Lake’s sword and shield. I mean, the name says it all, right? Someone who could handle rejection and protect me from ever feeling like I was less than. Because if I didn't make it in Hollywood, that meant I would need to go back to Montevideo. To a life of mediocrity.

The problem was that it worked a little too well.

I didn’t just use “Blaze Claymore” to find roles, I became Blaze Claymore because I was so afraid of what would happen if I didn’t. He wasn’t afraid of anything… or anyone. Even a shit role. Or ten thousand.

All I wanted was a chance. ONE chance to be something greater than the life I was born into.

But all I ever got in return was failure. First as an actor, and then as a wrestler, as a partner, and finally … as a son.

And then came ReVival 70. Another loss… this time to Ivan Stanislav. And then Max Kael’s abduction… a crime of opportunity? A joke he wanted to play? It still doesn’t make sense to me. But whatever drove Max to take me that evening, it wasn’t fear. Or concern. Or even acknowledgement of who Nathan Lake was.

Hell, I couldn't even acknowledge who Nathan Lake was. But in that moment of losing everything I was confronted with the very thing I had been running from since I was 19 years old. Myself.

And like a phoenix rising from the flames, or Gandalf the White showing up at the turning of the tide, Blaze Claymore was no longer my sword and shield; Nathan Lake was.

And not finishing me then and there was Max Kael's first mistake. 💧💧💧 Blaze’s voice catches in his throat, but only for a second.

“S-stay back, Sonja” he chokes out, causing Sonja to stop and lower her shoulders, not in defeat - but in exhaustion.

“Or, what, Nathan? You’ll fight me? You’ll jump? What?"

She throws her hands up in the air.

“Why are you still so afraid of letting me help you!?”

The way she says it. Oh God. She’s still in there. Somewhere.

Blaze squares his shoulders and steps toward Sonja, who looks up. Tears begin to run down her face.

“I know you’re not responsible for this, Sonja. For any of it…”

Blaze points behind him toward a desolate and dark Montevideo.

“But there is no world - no reality - where I am going to allow this to continue. This is what he wants!”

Sonja lets out a laugh, a choked cry, as she turns away and walks toward the opposite corner of the rooftop.

A gust of wind blows from the north once again as Blaze watches her jet black hair fly backwards. He can still feel how each soft and fine strand ran through his fingers every night as she slept next to him… but in that moment they were a million sharpened blades all pointed in his direction.

Blaze feels the book in his arm vibrating again as he takes another step towards Sonja.

“What the hell are you talking about? What I wanted? I never wanted any of this. Max did! Snark did! To take everything from me! My mother. My town. You!” 🔥🔥🔥 Two months… two months were taken from me by Max Kael and Snark Darkly.

But even that wasn’t enough. No, they decided to use me as a prop on their twisted variety show and kidnapped the woman I love as some sort of sick joke.

And then they made her read from the book.

Then everything changed. She changed…

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Suddenly I was back up on the rooftop of our hotel in Toronto just before Ultraviolence. And I felt that same sinking feeling in my gut that in that one, terrible, honest moment I wanted it to be over. All of it.

Luke Skywalker? Rocky Balboa? Superman? Robin Hood? No. I was back to being Nathan Lake.

And if Nathan Lake disappeared in that room, then maybe, just maybe, he couldn't fail anyone else. Couldn't disappoint anyone else. Couldn't watch another person he loved slip through his fingers while he stood there, useless.

I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. Around every corner was a darkness that had been chasing me since childhood. Not an otherworldly monster, just good old-fashioned self doubt.

My sword and shield had been ripped from me. Blaze Claymore was gone.

In a world of monsters, of villains, of people who kidnap, torture, manipulate, cheat, maim, and kill… how could Nathan Lake stand up to that? How could he ever hope to be the hero of his own story if he wasn’t also Blaze Claymore?

But then it happened. Somewhere in the darkness of those nightmares… I saw a single flicker of light. Pulsating. Flashing. Calling out to me…

Somewhere out in that storm there was a lighthouse.

I just needed to find it. 💧💧💧 Sonja turns sharply, arching her back like a cobra.

“No.”

She presses forward, but this time Blaze doesn’t move.

“What are you-”

He grips Snark’s book tightly as it pulsates, throbbing like a telltale heart as Sonja closes the distance. The two now inches apart… he can smell the acidly sweet green apple gum she would always chew when she was nervous as her breath washes over him.

“I DID THIS! ME! SONJA CUCHILLA!”

The hairs on Blaze’s arms stand up as Sonja screams at him, her voice echoing for miles against the cave of silence that has formed around Montevideo.

Blaze doesn’t move. Doesn’t run.

“You don’t mean that. That’s not you talking… it’s Max. You have to fight him, Sonja!”

Blaze plants his feet even as every muscle in his body is urging him to run. The book in his hand is also seemingly trying to rip itself from the confrontation.

Sonja grits her teeth, violently turning away from Blaze as she closes her eyes and raises a hand to her head, her body shaking.

As she lowers her hand, trembling, Blaze extends his own, clasping her fingers in his.

“You don’t have to fight him alone anymore. I’m going to help you.”

Sonja’s eyes widen, and flicker, as she returns his gesture, squeezes his hand, smiles, and whispers.

“I know.” 🔥🔥🔥 Max, I know you’ll hear this at some point… and I don’t want to leave anything left unsaid between us, so let's have a long-overdue heart to heart, just you and I.

Let me start by asking the obvious… Another kidnapping? Another abduction? With all your resources, with every lever, both municipal and maleficent, you have at your disposal, shipping me off to Arkham is the best you could come up with?

But I get it. How easy it is to go back to the well and play the hits.

It’s ironic, actually. How long I spent trying to be someone else. And not just Nathan Lake and Blaze Claymore, but every shit role I’ve taken – no matter how poorly written, how much it debased me as a person, or how little it paid.

I was a copy of a copy of a copy. Fuck. Even now … I still find myself quoting other people’s lines rather than stand behind my own words.

I'm sure that’s what you’re counting on, too. Blaze Claymore being just a bump in the road on your quest for a Universal Title all to prove how much you love Cecilworth Farthington.

You think love means hurting other people until the person you're in love with finally gives in.

That’s not love, Max.

That’s a hostage negotiation.

When you love someone you don’t demand they love you back - you protect them from outside forces; and even sometimes from themselves. No matter the cost to themselves.

That’s what love is.

And that’s why your grand gestures to Cecilworth have been met with nothing but static. 

Because you don’t understand the first thing about love. Love is sacrifice - not control.

And even if it was… what have you actually done to prove it?

You’re a mayor with no real power.

A wrestler brought to heel by his manager.

And a kidnapper who keeps letting people escape.

That’s what happens when you never face consequences, Max. You lose the ability to understand risk. You lose the ability to value life.

In 99 out of 100 timelines I would have felt pity for you, but not after what you took from me.

Who you’ve taken from me.

I remember being chained to the floor in a dark room.

I remember being forced to read those horrific words from the book I now hold in my hands.

I remember that darkness clawing its way out from behind my eye sockets. A pain I know you know well, Max, trying to make a home inside my skull like it has in yours.

I remember the nightmares. The visions.

But most of all, I remember it was you who made it happen. Sonja. Montevideo. My mother. All of it. And you just didn’t care… 

Except that’s the irony of it all, Max… in caring so little about the damage you’ve caused, you opened the door for me to take everything from you.

You could have killed me in that room. You probably should have - and you wouldn’t have needed to bend space and time to your will to do it like you did with Ivan, either.

And even when you had another chance, just like Snark wanted you to. Like he told you to. You got distracted. Complacent.

Like a petulant child with too many toys, you forgot about me.

And, speaking as someone who knows about fuck ups… that was your next mistake. And it was a BIG one.

Not-shooting-the-killer-in-the-head-at-the-end-of-a-horror-movie level big.

You’ve been born and reborn over and over again, always chasing after someone else’s attention and ignoring everything else.

Me too, Max. I get it. But that's why it is going to be me who leaves Culture Shock with Snark’s book.

Because I don't need anyone else’s validation to prove my life is worth living.  💧🔥💧 And just as quickly as the pair connects, Blaze retreats, stepping back, the violent nature of Snark’s book requiring both hands to keep it tamed.

Sonja’s eyes flicker in the darkness once more.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…”

Her voice is soft and sweet. Like sour honey.

“How in the world did you escape from Arkham? And what did you do to Snark?”

Blaze hesitates. A beat. A glance over Sonja’s shoulder.

“You have her to thank.”

“Her wh-”

Sonja turns and watches as, climbing up onto the roof scaffolding is a woman with graying hair and a wiry frame hidden under an ivory suit.

The moon, a single source of light in the night sky over Montevideo, reflects off of her cat-eye glasses as she reaches up to adjust them before shoving her hands into her waist pockets.

“Hello, Sonja. My name is Dr. Millicent Armitage and I’m here to help.” 🔥💧🔥 “If I can save one person, then it will be like I’ve saved the world.”

Great line, right? And it may even sound like you’ve heard it somewhere… but you haven’t. Because it was my line… a single line in some B movie I did back in 2015 right before I was attacked by a zombie.

In the movie. Not in real life, I mean. I think it was called “Undead Airlines: Fight or Flight” … not sure if it ever got released, even, but it was a paycheck.

All of them were just paychecks… every fucking role.

I spent so long mythologizing my time in Hollywood, and building myself up, that I barely recognized myself anymore. Every day on set was one more day placed between me and my past… but I wasn’t any closer to finding what I was looking for.

10,000 roles … and 10,000 Blaze Claymores.

But in actuality, it was always just 10,000 Nathan Lakes.

All leading to this role. The one I’m finally ready for. 💧🔥💧🔥💧 Sonja looks from Blaze to Armitage and then back.

“What is this, Nathan?”

Blaze steps forward and tries to place a hand on Sonja’s shoulder, but she recoils - as if his hand was a red-hot poker.

“She’s the one who told me about how to destroy Snark’s book, Sonja. When Max sent me to Arkham… I… I managed to escape and she found me. She told me all about how to destroy this book and set things right. Dr. Armi-”

“I know who you are.”

Sonja’s voice is curt. Dripping with contempt.

“You’re the woman who failed at becoming the Mayor of Arkham running against an undisciplined lunatic.”

“For now.”

Sonja scoffs, looking over at Blaze.

“You've been ignoring me for her? She’s already lost to Max, Nathan. Where’s your brain!?”

Dr. Armitage stiffens her shoulders, her head cocked slightly as she looks at Sonja, ignoring the jab.

“Fascinating.”

Sonja smirks, throwing her hair behind her shoulders.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Dr. Armitage looks over toward Blaze and then back to Sonja.

“Mmmm. Not yet.”

Sonja’s jaw tightens.

“Listen you-”

“Hey! Stop it!” Blaze shouts, cutting Sonja off. “What’s important right now is that we have the book and when I defeat Max this will all be over.”

“Max isn't just going to quit, Nathan,” Sonja says, still locking eyes with Dr. Armitage.

"Please, Sonja. You have to trust me."

Sonja waves her hand in the air dismissively.

“Whatever.”

She walks calmly over to the edge of the roof, overlooking tons of overturned dirt and a massive fissure in the middle of the town.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Nathan, but there’s no lighthouse here! It’s just a fantasy! Some childish, wild delusion you’ve been chasing to avoid getting the help you actually need! The help I can give you!”

“But Sonja, I-”

“Jesus! Listen to yourself. Look around! There’s nothing left for you here but emptiness! Even if you do beat Max and destroy the book, what makes you so certain that can save everyone? Save me?”

Blaze sighs and looks up toward the stars… without the lights of Montevideo, it feels like the entire Universe is staring back at him, waiting for an answer.

“We’ll find a way. Just as sure as the turning of the earth.”

Sonja turns back to Blaze before letting out a dry laugh with a hint of sadness.

She sighs before lifting a hand to caress his face, causing Blaze to shudder involuntarily at the touch of her ice-cold skin.

“Okay, John Wayne.”

Sonja pulls her hand down Blaze’s cheek, fingernails pressing hard enough to break skin, before taking a step backward, and smiling.

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

Before he can go after her, Sonja is gone, somehow dropping off the edge of the roof and vanishing into the night at the same time. A shiver runs up Blaze's spine as flashes of Snark Darkly and Max play through his head, but he forces them away.

“Hold on just a bit longer, Sonja… I will beat him. For both of us.”

Doctor Armitage places a hand on Blaze’s shoulder as he grips the edge of the roof.

But this time he was looking at a way forward, not a way out.

"You were right not to tell her. Even though I know you wanted to.”

Blaze nods as he looks down toward the void below their feet as he feels the book begin to shake once more. No longer hungry. Scared. Terrified.

“So, if I-”

Blaze stops himself.

“So when I defeat Max? What happens then?”

Doctor Armitage joins Blaze at his side and gestures down to the abyss below.

“You tell me. It’s your lighthouse.”

Blaze closes his eyes and clenches his fist.

"Not yet it isn't. Not until I earn it." 🔥💧🔥💧🔥💧🔥 Someone can spend years searching for answers in the most obvious places and never find what they're looking for.

But then, just when you stop looking for where things should be, is when you see it’s been right under your feet this entire time.

Every road leads somewhere eventually.

Some to salvation.

Some to ruin.

All of mine lead to Culture Shock.

A win over Max Kael.

And bringing hope back to Montevideo, and to PRIME.

Because that's what a Lighthouse does.