It's all over! Daniel Bryan cements himself as the brand new European Champion of the world! Or so this was the imagery that would close the go home show for Genesis. For Pete Dunne in particular, this was his worst nightmare come true. Months of building up his image as a unbeatable prodigy was gone in the blink of an eye. For the first time in since his resurgence -- Pete Dunne was vulnerable. This is where our scene would ultimately kickstart itself. We see the imagery of Pete Dunne with his lone WWEx World Heavyweight Championship over his shoulders as he walked the streets of Chicago. The one true footnote in this whole scenario. This was not only the home of CM Punk, his opponent come Collision III, but also -- The very harsh setting of where Dunne knew he would be the villain.

PETE DUNNE
So this must be tha' feelin' of a broken heart.

Dunne closes his eyes as he clutches his sole championships closely to his chest. The taste of defeat was an agonizing one. To him he was still the European champion of the world. But with CM Punk hitting him with that ever so effective Go-To-Sleep; Dunne had much more on his mind than a simple championship loss. He had much more he had to prove. Some would even say this clash was more crucial to his resume than even that of his Wrestle Kingdom encounter with AJ Styles. Dunne would slowly open his eyes as he would continue his speech. Determined, yet somber. He was well aware of where he stood. This would be a war. One he had to win.

PETE DUNNE
After months of build up. Months of restoring faith to tha' broken hierarchy that was WWEx -- I was screwed out of tha' one thing that made my rise up this company prolific. I lost tha' European Championship... (He pauses. Almost defeated again. This wasn't the usual Pete Dunne we had grown to seeing as of late.) But never once was it set in stone. Never once was my defeat inevitable. Had it known been for Chicago's son -- CM Punk; I safely can guarantee that I would still be standin' here wit' not one, but TWO championships. For you see, Punk laid his hands on me. He devalued an entire main event. Not because he wanted to get back at me, but because CM Punk is a living breathin' epitome of a cancer...

These were some harsh words from Dunne as he slowly lifts his head. Making sure to continue on his path. These Chicago natives were some of the most dedicated fans in the world. Dunne standing in the midst of this was a dangerous environment for him. For the first time in his career -- It was Dunne against the world.

PETE DUNNE
I don't quite have tha' remorse I would have wit' my words as I have perhaps in tha' past allowed myself. When Punk took away one of my crown jewels. One of tha' things that allowed me to sleep easy at night -- He took not only my freedom, but he took my livelihood. (A soft pause comes across Dunne as he slowly glares over at his World Championship. The possibility of losing not one, but both championships were there. He sighs.) But I guess in a way -- I admire that, Punk. The mere fact tha' I got so deep inside your head that you had to COST me, my European championship, proves tha' I've got one over on you. (And just like that -- The natural confidence of Dunne was back.) Let's not get it confused, lad. I get it. You had to justify tha' mere fact I embarrassed you earlier in tha' night. Instead of bein' a man and walkin' into Collision wit' your head held high; I knew from tha' moment our paths crossed you would cost me at least once. Henceforth -- I have to admit this in advance. I swear on my daughters life -- I will break you in half. Limb by miserable limb. Wha' you tried to accomplish may have seemed good on paper, Punk. In fact, some might even say you've got tha' advantage goin' into this big event -- And yet? Here in your hometown. Regardless of everything we've done to one another thus far -- I'm still tha' God damn man to beat 'round here.

We hear a casual cackle escape Dunne as he continues to make his way down the harsh streets of Chicago, as he finally reaches an alleyway. He slowly turns his attention towards it as he crosses into the dimly lit Chicago vacancy. At least now, Dunne was out of the cross hairs of any crazed Punk fans. At least now he was on level playing ground.

PETE DUNNE
Please excuse me, Punk. I had to get away from all those people you call neighbors. After all, I know Collision is takin' place in your hometown, but we might as well have scheduled it in this alley -- After all these people are jus' like you, Punk. They're trash. Disgusting, no good, pieces of trash. (Dunne slowly glares at the championship over his shoulder.) People like me do to not LOSE to people like you. It's jus' somethin' we have to come to terms wit'. I am wrestlin' royalty. As you know I hail from tha' royal streets of tha' UK. Where there jus' a bad look would get 'ya smacked in tha' mouth. Chicago has nothin' on tha' UK. You constantly go on 'bout how Chicago is all this, and it's all that -- Well here, I am. I'm in your playground now, Punk. The ballparks all yours, kid. I get it. (Dunne simply shrugs.) No, Punk, I really do. This is your neck of tha' woods, so I'm supposed to be in for tha' fight of my life. Chicago and Punk jus' can't be beat. They're unstoppable together. That's until I came along and screwed every lil' thing you've ever wanted.

Dunne takes a brief moment to pace back and forth as he unfastens the WWEx World Heavyweight Championship from his shoulder as he hoist it highly in the air. As if to send a direct shot to CM Punk. His smile said it all. This was everything to him.

PETE DUNNE
Speakin' of want. This championships here is wha' you desire most of all. And why wouldn't it be? This symbolizes that you're face of this company. One of tha' best performers in tha' entire world. And do you know why I have championship? How I become tha' face of this company in jus' a few short months? (A cocky smile slides across the face of Dunne.) It's because I knew wha' I brought to tha' table. I knew on my best day I could never be beat. I knew this company needed a TRUE face to represent this company on tha' biggest stage. This is a business where only tha' strong survive. It truly is survival of tha' fittest. (Dunne runs his free hand across the nameplate at the bottom of his championship, all before returning with a sarcastic question to his opponent.) I have to ask, Punk. Can you survive?

As expected we are met with that swift aura of confidence. Dunne can't help but hold his head with pride as he glares at the WWEx Championship adorned over his shoulder. Dunne would then shake his head once more as he would pace back and forth. Allowing his mind to wander. That in of itself was a dangerous combo. Look out, Punk. You're in for the most dangerous Pete Dunne of all. The Dunne with no remorse.

PETE DUNNE
A rhetorical question in tha' grand scheme o'things. I however discredit your pursuit to my championship, as I say you're not only unfit for survival, but you're NOWHERE near my league. You're a broken fixture of tha' past. Some of which will allow nostalgia to creep in, but as tha' bearer of truths -- I've never been man fearful of acts from tha' past. I've never once took a back step to performers who have had their moment in tha' spotlight. Need some proof? Ask TJP, Sami Zayn and AJ Styles how I work. All three thought they were untouchable. Unbeatable in some accords. And yet? I did exactly as I said I would do. I made 'em not only victims, but I made 'em my personal BITCH. (And there it was. His cold and calculated demeanor that pushed up the WWEx ladder.) You, Punk are in tha' same line as these commoners. You talk a might fine game, but that's always been your forte. You've had a way wit' words since even before I set foot inside a wrestlin' ring. This simple thing I can't discredit, but I applaud you, Punk. For these misfortunes shall lead to your inevitable downfall. Your arrogance, and confidence shall lead you to nothin' more than your inevitable slaughter. All. At. My. Expense.

Once again we watch as Dunne allows a pause to creep upon him. He shifts his glare behind him to look onward down the alleyway, as he eerily makes his way into the darker portion of the alleyway. His back turned to the camera, a brief visage of Dunne is illuminated by the lamp light above his head. Showing exactly why he was in the roughest part of Chicago. As the lights flash before our eyes, we see the broken visage of alcohol bottles, to broken glass at his feet. Luckily for him, he was all by his lonesome.

PETE DUNNE
You see from my perspective -- This is all you've known. From a broken family, to a father's drunken rage. You used that as your bittersweet motivation, have you not, Punk? (He pauses. Slowly shaking his head.) Perhaps I'm opening a wound. One of which, I should steer clear from. After all. Isn't being a bastard tha' common epitome of a failure? Not that I would know. After all, unlike you, Punk -- I come from a lovin' devoted family. Where as your life has been plagued by bein' tha' lowlife that nobody wanted. You want tha' truth -- It doesn't matter where you've come from. You take a look at tha' expression from all these people who share tha' same interest you. You look and admire tha' people who love and devote themselves to CM Punk; I come in as tha' black plague. I come in and I screw ever lil' thing up. For you see, Punk -- I have burnt down sold out arenas. I have stabbed tha' people closest to me in tha' back. If I can do that to a brother in arms -- Imagine what I can do to a man his beloved hometown. Imagine what I'm capable of to a man who's got no interest in me. Imagine what these bare hands can do to a man not worth my time...

The street lights continue to flicker as Dunne slowly shifts his head to face us once more. His eyes fixate at the rubble beneath his feet as he gawks in disgust at the Chicago streets. A soft perplexed smirk comes across Dunne as he notices something. A barrel mostly used to keep the homeless warm at night. A true tragedy, with some realization. Dunne slowly walks even further into the alleyway, as he finally reaches the barrel. Dunne slowly drags his hand across the barrel, allowing some of the smoke, and ash to adorn his finger tips. He wipes the ash across his fingertips as he cackles a sly smirk. It was at this point that Dunne reaches into his suit pocket. Ironically, an ash colored suit. In doing so he reveals an image of CM Punk. The same one of Punk hoisting Dunne up for the GTS. The very same night that Dunne lost his European championship.

PETE DUNNE
I take a look at this image, and it haunts me. Not like your past, Punk -- But it haunts me because had I known you were that big of a coward -- I could have easily prepared for myself. Yet, you were able to get one up on me. Tha' isn't a common thing, Punk. So in that regard, count yourself lucky. But isn't it funny that tattooed across your very body is tha' quote: Luck is for losers? A statement which shall soon enough become a truth. (Dunne scans the ground beneath him.) You see this image. It was nothing but LUCK. Irony at it's finest. I find it funny. As now it appears our time is drawing to it's conclusion. Let it be known, Punk -- I'm going to take everything you cherish, everything you love, and I'm going to make it mine. All mine. 'Cause I don't like you. As a matter o'fact, I long to see you suffer. Just like your childhood. Just like your life. Soon enough, I'll put you out of misery. Once. And. For. All.

Dunne continues to scan the ground as he just so happens to come across a half used pack of matches. What a formulated plot. Dunne cracks a confident smirk as he grabs the matches. He glares at the matches once more before striking the match. In doing so, Dunne tosses the pack into the barrel. Allowing it to catch fire. Dunne takes one final look at the picture in his hand as he nods his head.

PETE DUNNE
After all, Punk. This is nothin' more than tha' feelin' of a broken heart.

One final chuckle escapes from Dunne as he tosses the picture into the barrel. It quickly catches fire and perishes into the barrel. As if to say the last week would be erased after this epic clash. Dunne slowly adjust the championship as he turns his attention away from the barrel and back onto us, the viewers. Dunne would host his championship freely before bringing his other hand, tightly clutched under his mouth. His usual glare radiates through the scene as the lights behind him continue to flicker. At least for the moment as our scene slowly fades to black.