The energy in the Harborview Arena was electric, thick enough to feel like a storm was brewing. In the ring, three men stood under the glaring lights, each representing their team in this intense triple threat match.
Brock Steele of the Steel Titans towered like a fortress, arms crossed and jaw clenched. Opposite him, Marcus Vane of the Apex Predators prowled like a lion on the hunt, his gaze locked on both opponents.
And in the third corner, Jett Flashpoint bounced on his toes, exuding youthful bravado with a smirk that drew a mix of cheers and boos from the crowd.
At ringside, the partners circled like sharks—Hunter Locke for the Titans, Axel Flashpoint for the Brothers, and Cal Bishop for the Predators. Officials were already on high alert, hands poised to intervene if things got out of hand.
When the bell rang, the arena erupted. Jett was quick to act, darting forward in a blur, testing both opponents with rapid strikes.
A spinning heel kick caught Brock on the jaw, staggering the big man, and before he could recover, Jett slid into a dropkick that took Marcus out at the knees. The crowd roared in approval, rallying behind the smaller fighter who had just taken on both giants in a flash of agility.
But the tide turned quickly. Brock let out a fierce roar and lunged, grabbing Jett by the neck as if he were a toy. With a grunt, he tossed him across the ring into the corner, the impact shaking the turnbuckles.
Marcus, regaining his balance, charged at Brock, landing hard forearm shots to his face. Each hit echoed like a whip crack, and the crowd winced with every connection. Brock held his ground, retaliating with powerful punches of his own. The two heavyweights clashed in the center of the ring, trading blows, neither willing to back down.
Jett, still reeling but determined, spotted an opening. He sprinted, leaping onto the ropes and springboarding into a high crossbody that took down both Brock and Marcus, sending them crashing to the mat.
The fans came alive, and Jett popped up instantly, arms spread wide, taunting the audience with his cocky grin.
"Say what you want about the Flashpoints," Noah said over commentary, "but that kid can fly. He's got no fear."
Inside the arena, fans were loud, though divided. Some cheered Jett's athleticism, others booed his arrogance. A few black "Why Maya Why?" shirts, distributed before the show, were visible in the stands, their stark lettering catching the light. In the crowd, Luke Cross shifted uncomfortably in his seat while Tony Hart grinned at the action.
Back in the ring, Jett was determined to keep the energy up. He unleashed a flurry of sharp kicks at Marcus, then attempted to send him flying into the ropes. But Marcus had other plans, reversing the move and catching Jett on the rebound with a devastating clothesline that nearly flipped him upside down.
The crowd collectively gasped as Jett crashed hard onto the mat. Brock charged back into the action, spearing Marcus into the corner and delivering powerful shoulder thrusts right into his midsection.
On the sidelines, Axel Flashpoint was pounding the mat, urging his brother to get back up, while Cal Bishop was barking commands at Marcus. Hunter Locke stood with his arms crossed, shooting daggers at the other two teams.
The officials were on high alert, trying to keep the outside chaos under control, but every shout and glare hinted at a bigger brawl just waiting to ignite.
Inside the ring, the battle raged on. Marcus countered Brock's relentless attack with a knee to the gut, then attempted a suplex.
Brock wasn't having it, blocking the move and turning it into a crushing vertical suplex of his own, lifting Marcus high before slamming him down with a thunderous thud.
Just then, Jett made his entrance again, springboarding into the ring with a missile dropkick that sent Brock sprawling to the ground. The fans erupted, on their feet, cheering and clapping.
"This is pure chaos," Irvin exclaimed breathlessly on commentary. "Bodies are flying everywhere, it's power versus speed, and neither man is backing down!"
Jett quickly hooked Marcus for a pin, but Brock intervened, shoving them both apart. The three wrestlers struggled to their feet once more, but outside the ring, the powder keg finally blew. Hunter Locke was shouting at Marcus's partner, Cal Bishop, and the two exchanged heated words until the referee turned to warn Hunter.
That's when everything went off the rails.
Inside the ring, while the official was momentarily distracted, Marcus signaled to Cal. The Apex Predators executed a perfect double-team—Marcus delivered a brutal chop block to Brock's legs, while Cal seized his arms through the ropes and yanked him down.
Brock hit the mat hard, clutching his leg in pain, but the referee was oblivious to the whole scene. The crowd erupted in boos, pointing and shouting, but it was already too late to change anything.
Hunter Locke had reached his breaking point. With a fierce snarl, the Titan lunged at Cal on the floor, fists flying as the two massive men collided against the barricade. Axel Flashpoint jumped in to defend his brother, and suddenly, all six men were caught up in a wild brawl, both inside and outside the ring.
Officials rushed in, desperately trying to separate them, but it was complete chaos.
Back in the ring, Jett had just interrupted Marcus's pin attempt on Brock, but his focus was drawn to the fight outside. He yelled at his brother, momentarily distracted by the mayhem. That brief hesitation was all Marcus needed.
As Jett turned back, Marcus seized him by the throat, his face twisted with rage. With ruthless precision, he positioned Jett and slammed him face-first into the mat with the Predator's End, their signature finishing move. The crowd gasped, some covering their heads in shock, while others erupted in furious cheers.
Marcus rolled Jett over, hooking the leg for the pin.
The referee, finally turning back, saw the pin and dove in.
One.Two.Three.
The bell rang.
The arena erupted, though mostly in boos. Marcus rose to his feet, sneering, shoving Jett's limp body aside. Cal scrambled back into the ring to join him, raising his partner's arm triumphantly as the officials tried desperately to keep Hunter and Axel from breaking free to continue the fight.
"The Apex Predators just snatched it away!" Irvin shouted, his voice full of energy. "They took advantage of the chaos, used the distraction to their benefit, and now they're heading into All In with all the momentum on their side!"
Noah's tone was laced with irritation. "Stole it, indeed! They pulled off an illegal double team, played the referee like a fiddle, and then took Jett down with Predator's End. If that's their game plan for winning the tag titles, it's nothing short of theft!"
The crowd was relentless, showering the Predators with boos and jeers, waving their "Steel Titans" and "Flashpoint" signs high in the air. But Marcus and Cal just chuckled, pretending to hoist imaginary championship belts above their heads.
Meanwhile, in the audience, Michael Myers leaned forward on his couch, a grin spreading across his face. He thrived on the chaos, the thrill of unpredictability. "This is way better than that other show," he murmured to himself. "These guys really seem to despise each other."
Back in the arena, the Steel Titans charged the ring once more, pushing past officials, pointing furiously at the Predators and shouting that their time was coming. The Flashpoint Brothers tended to Jett's injuries but glared with fierce determination, vowing to get even. The energy in the air was electric, with three teams poised to clash.
"This," Noah declared as the segment wrapped up, "is what All In is all about! In just three days, all three teams will face off for the brand-new IRW Tag Team Championships! And if tonight is any indication—heaven help us all!"