The screen glitches with a VHS-style synth sizzle, booming electric drums pounding under a neon graphic: “THE NIGHT RIDERS – IGNITION SEQUENCE INITIATED.” The shot opens wide on Neon Blaze and Steel Thunder in front of the ICW backdrop, hot pink and electric blue lights splashing over them like the inside of a roller rink. The shimmer from their grid-patterned singlets catches the light, while a fan blows just enough air to make their hair look like it’s in slow motion.

“BROTHERRR!! Do you feel that HUMMMM in the air?!” Blaze explodes with energy, his shades tilted down just enough to show his wild eyes. “That ain’t just the bassline thumpin’ from the club down the street, JACK—that’s the high-octane, neon-soaked, 100% PURE UNFILTERED VIBRATION of the Night Riders pulling into the IRON CITY, brother!”

Steel Thunder stands like a brick wall beside him, arms folded. His voice is low and hard. “Engines fueled. Lasers locked. Target acquired.”

Blaze grins, snapping finger guns at the camera. “We didn’t come to Birmingham for the ribs, brother—though they are delicious! We came here to do one thing and one thing only…” He spins in place and drops into a b-boy squat. “…LIGHT UP THE NIGHT!”

“This is Iron City Wrestling,” Steel growls. “Grit. Pain. Blood. And now... color. We’re not just bringin’ style, we’re bringin’ substance. You want to see what happens when the past and the future collide in the ring?”

Blaze jumps in, pointing at his partner. “You get a supernova in tights, BROTHER!”

Steel nods without looking away from the lens. “We’re not here to shake hands and play nice. We’re here to rise through the tag division like synths through the roof speakers. We’re here to leave tire tracks across the chests of anyone who thinks the Night Riders are just a gimmick.”

“Oh, we’re a gimmick, baby,” Blaze says with a cocky smirk. “But we’re the kind that wins matches, melts faces, and makes grandma clap till her hands fall off!” He throws on his shades in slow motion. Steel follows, never breaking his scowl.

“So whoever’s lacing up across from us next week—the jobbers, the tough guys, the tough jobbers—get ready to ride the lightning, sip the glow, and FEEL THE BURN OF BLAZE AND THUNDER, BROTHER!” Blaze shouts.

Steel steps forward, his voice dropping. “Because when the lights go down…”

Both men lean into the camera, voices uniting like a gunshot. “THE NIGHT RIDERS TURN ‘EM BACK ON.”

The screen freezes mid-pose as an 80s-style graphic flashes: “THE NIGHT RIDERS – COMING TO MELT YOUR FACE OFF – ONLY ON ICFC.” Static swallows the frame.