Looking for Answers: in the moment
Summerslam, 2016
His feet left the ground. In a split second existed a year, a decade, a lifetime as Seth flung him towards the barricade. The past and present and the future were thrown from his shoulders at the moment of impact, jarring him from what felt like time itself before a sharp jolt of pain shocked his synapses.
This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. The Demon roared sweat from his pores under the paint, in anguish from the moment the bell had rung. The masses denied him the one thing that have that darkness sustenance, chanting not his name, not for violence, but for the superficial appearance of what the Demon craved. The title was blood red, shining gold, bright diamonds and black pitch. It was made for him and he for it. The universe was going to be in the palm of his hand and it seemed so distant in that one moment that Finn couldn't tell the pain of his shoulder from the gnawing ache for the title that was rightfully his.
His shoulder left his socket and a conversation pressed forward to the front of his mind that would leave a faded impression on his every waking thought for months to come:
How much do you want it?
More than anything.
Was it the Demon questioning his skill? Was Finn goading the Demon for more power? There was no separation, all lines blurred before Finn shoved his arm back into his socket and the world gained crystal clear focus and time moved forward.