The scene opened in a dimly lit room. In the middle of the room was a figure standing with his back to the camera. The figure was wearing a black leather jacket, and the faint outline of spikes was visible on his shoulders. A chain-link fence covered the back wall, with various weapons hanging from it - steel chairs, kendo sticks, barbed wire, to name a few. The figure slowly raised his head, but his face remained hidden from view. As the camera closed in on him, the figure began to speak, his voice low but instantly recognisable.

Chris Jericho: Moxley… you and I, we’ve danced this dance before, haven’t we? But this time… this time, it’s different.

Jericho took a step forward, still with his back to the camera , and the light flickered, casting a long shadow on the wall.

Chris Jericho: An Ohio Street Fight, in your hometown. Your city, your streets. And you think that gives you the advantage, don’t you Mox? You think that because we’re stepping into your territory, into the chaos that you thrive on, that I’m walking into this match like some kind of lamb to the slaughter.

Jericho lowered his head for a moment, letting out a low chuckle.

Chris Jericho: But you see, Mox… I know who you are, and I know what you’re capable of. You’re violent, you’re relentless, you’re dangerous. I’ve watched you tear men apart with your bare hands, and I know that when you step into that ring, there’s a piece of you that wants nothing more than to hurt, to destroy. And that’s why I had to make a choice, Moxley. I had to ask - could he handle the violence, the brutality, the chaos?

Jericho suddenly turned around, revealing the “he” that he had just referred to. His face was painted white, his lips were black, and there were black crosses over his eyes, giving him an almost monstrous appearance. This was Jericho’s darker alter ego - The Painmaker.

Chris Jericho: You didn’t ask for this, Mox. But I knew that if I was going to face you, walk into your hometown, and step into the kind of violence you livd for… I had to become something darker. I had to embrace the part of me that doesn’t just fight, but destroys. The part of me that can meet your violence head-on, and not just survive it… but thrive in it.

Jericho grinned sadistically, then walked over to the chain-link fence behind him, pulling a barbed wire-wrapped bat from the wall. He ran his fingers along the sharp wire, letting it dig into his flesh. As small droplets of blood formed, Jericho seemed unfazed; it was almost as if he enjoyed it.

Chris Jericho: Ohio Street Fight. No rules, no limits, nothing holding us back. Just you… me… and whatever weapons we can find to tear each other apart. This is the world you wanted to drag me into, Mox. But what you didn’t realize is that I’m not coming into this as Chris Jericho… I’m coming as the Painmaker. I’m coming as the man who leaves bodies broken, leaves minds shattered, and who revels in every second of destruction. You want violence, Mox? I’ll give you violence. I’ll give you more pain, more blood, more carnage than you’ve ever experienced. You love to bleed? You love to fight? Good… because that’s exactly what’s coming for you in Cincinnati.

Jericho took a few steps toward the camera, the barbed-wire bat still in his hand. His voice became more vicious as he continued speaking.

Chris Jericho: You think that just because this is happening in your city, on your streets, that you’ve already won? That the fans in Cincinnati are going to carry you to victory? Let me tell you something, Mox… those fans can cheer, they can scream, they can chant your name until their lungs bleed, but it won’t make a damn bit of difference when I’ve got this barbed wire wrapped around your face, tearing your flesh apart.

Jericho paused, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to the camera.

Chris Jericho: I’ve fought men like you before; men who thought they were invincible. Men who thought they could outlast me, outfight me, outbleed me. And every single one of them learned the hard way that the Painmaker doesn’t lose. The Painmaker doesn’t fall. He destroys. He annihilates. And when the dust settles, when the blood’s been spilled, when the bodies are lying broken in that ring, it’s me standing tall. Always.

Jericho paused for a moment and gritted his teeth. The intensity in his eyes was growing stronger.

Chris Jericho: You like to call yourself the most dangerous man in this business. You love to talk about how no one can match your willingness to go to war. But at Warfare, you’re going to find out that your limits… they’re nothing compared to mine. Because The Painmaker doesn’t have limits. When that bell rings, I’ll drag you into a world you can’t control, a world you can’t survive in, and I’ll beat you so badly, you’ll be begging me to stop.

Jericho dropped the bat with a loud clatter, stepping back into the shadows slightly. Only his painted face and piercing eyes were still visible.

Chris Jericho: Jon Moxley, who this is your final warning. You’re not just stepping into a fight. You’re stepping into my world. A world of chaos, a world of blood, a world of pain that you’ve never experienceld before. You And I promise you this… you’re not walking out the same man. Hell, you might not be walking out at all. Because I’m not just coming to beat you, Mox... I’m coming to end you. The Painmaker doesn’t leave survivors… he leaves wreckage. And after Warfare, in front of your hometown, in front of your people, m the going to know what it’s like to face a force you can’t stop. You’re going to know what it feels like to be broken. And you’ll never forget the name of the man who did it to you.

The camera began to fade as Jericho stepped back further into the shadows, only for his painted eyes visible in the darkness.