FicWad

Percy spent the next couple of weeks enjoying a rare respite from the grueling demands of his career. For the first time in a long while, he was able to fully immerse himself in the joy of being a new father, spending time with Penelope and their newborn daughter, Ember, in the comfort of their new mansion. The sprawling estate, with its lush gardens and luxurious rooms, was a far cry from the modest life Percy had known growing up, and he found a strange sense of contentment in the peaceful moments spent with his family.

Aleksander and Rebecca, Penelope's parents, frequently visited to dote on their granddaughter. The house was filled with warmth and laughter, a stark contrast to the brutal world of FMW that Percy had become so entrenched in. For those few weeks, Percy allowed himself to relax, to enjoy the simple pleasures of fatherhood, and to push aside the constant drive that had been propelling him forward.

But the respite was short-lived.

One afternoon, while Percy was sitting on the back patio, holding Ember in his arms as she dozed peacefully, his phone buzzed with a new message. He glanced at the screen and felt his stomach drop as he read the notification: he was being called to defend his FMW Winged Eagle Championship in just a week’s time.

The location and scale of the event stunned him even more: the match would take place in Pyongyang, North Korea, in front of a staggering crowd of 200,000 people at the Rungrado 1st of May Stadium. His opponent would be Rikidōzan, a legendary figure in wrestling who was revered across Asia.

Percy was gobsmacked. The sheer size of the crowd was beyond anything he had ever imagined. Competing in front of so many people, in such a high-profile match, was both exhilarating and terrifying. He felt a mix of emotions—pride at being chosen for such a significant event, but also a creeping sense of dread.

Reluctantly, he knew he had to tell Penelope the news.

Later that evening, after dinner, Percy sat down with Penelope in the living room. Ember was asleep in her crib, and the house was quiet. Percy reached for Penelope’s hand, squeezing it gently before he spoke.

"Penelope," he began, his voice soft but serious. "I got a message today. I have to defend the Winged Eagle Championship next week."

Penelope looked at him, her expression already tinged with concern. "Where is it this time?" she asked, her voice calm but wary.

"In Pyongyang, North Korea," Percy replied, watching as Penelope's eyes widened in shock. "It’s going to be in front of 200,000 people. I’ll be facing Rikidōzan."

Penelope stared at him, processing the information. She could see the mixture of emotions in his eyes—the pride, the fear, the relentless drive that had brought him so far. But all she could think about was the toll it was taking on him, both physically and mentally.

"Percy," Penelope said after a long pause, her voice laced with worry. "I think it’s time we start talking about retirement."

Percy blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. He had been so focused on pushing forward, on achieving more, that the idea of stepping back had barely crossed his mind.

"Retirement?" Percy repeated, almost as if he was testing the word out.

"Yes," Penelope continued, her tone gentle but firm. "You’ve done so much already. You’ve won nine championships, competed in some of the most brutal matches imaginable. But at what cost, Percy? I’ve watched you push yourself to the brink, and it scares me. We have a daughter now. You have a family to think about."

Percy looked down at his hands, which had seen more battles than he cared to remember. The toll on his body was undeniable, and deep down, he knew Penelope was right. But the thought of retiring, of walking away from the world he had conquered, was difficult to accept.

"I don’t know if I can just stop," Percy admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is what I do. It’s who I am."

"It’s not all you are," Penelope replied, leaning in closer. "You’re a father now. And I need you here, Percy. Ember needs you here. Whole and healthy. Not broken and battered."

Percy felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to Penelope’s words. He knew she was speaking out of love, out of concern for his well-being. But he also knew that the decision wasn’t as simple as just walking away. The world of FMW had a grip on him, and the idea of retiring, of leaving that all behind, filled him with a sense of loss.

But as he looked into Penelope’s eyes, he also saw the future he wanted—the life he wanted to build with her and Ember. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to start thinking about how to step away from the chaos and violence, and embrace a new chapter in his life.

"I’ll think about it," Percy finally said, his voice sincere. "After this match… we’ll talk more about what comes next."

Penelope nodded, relief washing over her features as she leaned in to kiss him. "That’s all I ask," she whispered against his lips. "Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself. That you’ll come back to us in one piece."

"I promise," Percy replied, holding her close. But as the weight of the promise settled in, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the road ahead was still uncertain, and the choices he would have to make were far from easy.

The Collision in Korea event was unlike anything Percy had ever experienced. The magnitude of the event was astounding, with the entire world watching, and the pressure to perform had never been higher. The Rungrado 1st of May Stadium, the largest stadium in the world, loomed large and intimidating as Percy arrived with Lucius Malfoy and Audrey Blackwood by his side. The enormity of the event was only heightened by the strange, oppressive atmosphere that hung over Pyongyang.

Percy had been warned extensively before the trip: do not speak ill of North Korea, do not make any gestures or comments that could be perceived as disrespectful, and assume that everything he said was being monitored. The sense of surveillance was palpable from the moment they landed. Armed guards were everywhere, and Percy felt the weight of countless eyes on him at all times.

But nothing could have prepared him for the starkness of North Korea. As they traveled from the airport to their hotel, Percy was struck by the barren, lifeless landscape. The countryside was devoid of greenery, with dry, cracked earth stretching as far as the eye could see. There were no animals, no birds, and no signs of life beyond the occasional stoic figure walking along the road. It was as if they had landed on an entirely different planet—one devoid of any of the natural vibrancy Percy was used to.

In the capital, things were no different. The city was austere, with wide, empty streets and towering statues of the country’s leaders dominating every square. The people moved about with a subdued air, their faces expressionless, their movements mechanical. The lack of life, of color, of anything remotely human in the environment, left Percy feeling uneasy, as if he were in some dystopian nightmare.

One day, while walking through the city under the watchful eyes of their minders, Percy was approached by a local resident. The man, dressed in simple, worn clothes, stared at Percy’s luxurious ring robe with wide eyes. The robe, with its rich fabric and intricate design, was one of Percy’s most prized possessions, a symbol of his success in the brutal world of FMW.

"How much did this cost?" the man asked in halting English, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and disbelief.

Percy, not thinking much of the question, told him the price—a sum that was modest by his standards but significant in the world of professional wrestling.

The man’s eyes widened even further, and he let out a low gasp. "How…how can anyone have so much money?" he asked, almost to himself.

Percy felt a pang of discomfort. He had grown used to the wealth and luxury that came with his success, but here, in this barren, impoverished land, the disparity was jarring. "How much do you make?" Percy asked quietly. After he was told, Percy later found out that it was the equivalent of a dollar a day.

Percy’s stomach dropped. Had he known this, he never would have worn the robe in front of these people. It felt wrong, obscene, to flaunt such wealth in a place where people struggled to survive on so little. He excused himself from the conversation as gently as he could and immediately sought out Lucius.

Finding Lucius in the hotel, Percy pulled him aside, his face etched with concern. "Lucius," he began, his voice low, "I need to talk to you."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, sensing the seriousness in Percy’s tone. "What is it, Percy?"

Percy took a deep breath, still shaken by the encounter with the local man. "This place… it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. The poverty, the lack of life… I didn’t realize how different it would be. I feel out of place here, flaunting my wealth in front of people who have so little."

Lucius nodded, though his expression remained impassive. "This is North Korea, Percy. It’s not like the rest of the world. But we’re here for a reason, and you need to stay focused on the task at hand."

"I know," Percy replied, trying to push aside his discomfort. "But I need something to keep me focused. Lucius, I want a shot at the FMW World Heavyweight Championship. It’s the last title I need to complete my goal. Can you get me that match?"

Lucius studied Percy for a moment, weighing the request. The FMW World Heavyweight Championship was the most prestigious title in the entire organization, and earning a shot at it was no easy feat. But Lucius had seen Percy’s rise, his relentless drive, and he knew that this was more than just a desire for another title. It was a culmination of everything Percy had fought for, a way to solidify his legacy.

"I’ll try," Lucius said finally, his tone serious. "But it won’t be easy. The competition for that title is fierce, and there are a lot of factors at play. But if anyone can do it, Percy, it’s you."

Percy nodded, his resolve hardening. "I’m a fast learner, Lucius. I’ll do whatever it takes to become the best there is. I won’t let anything stop me."

Lucius gave Percy a small, approving nod. "Good. Keep that fire, Percy. It’s what will set you apart. But remember—this is a dangerous game we’re playing. You need to be prepared for anything."

"I am," Percy replied firmly. "Just get me that match, and I’ll take care of the rest."

As they prepared for the upcoming event, Percy pushed aside his discomfort about the surroundings and focused on what he knew best: fighting, winning, and claiming what was his. The road to the FMW World Heavyweight Championship would be fraught with challenges, but Percy was determined to see it through, no matter the cost.