She stared into the sunken and emotionally exhausted eyes of this illusion. She knew it was an echo of a memory. A pale imitation made from her own memories of the great man. She knew it just as quickly as she recognized the copy of Shawn in the caves before she left for space. She could feel Sculptura weighing down her arms and soul. But when he looked at her, he didn't pay the villainess any mind. His voice rumbled through her mind. You know it. I can feel it in your heart. Just like I told you. So why do you not wear your mask, Nina?
Anisa tried to stammer out a defense but every time she looked at him she couldn't bring herself to lie. Not to him, not even a pretender. "Because it isn't my face. Maybe it never was."
He laughed a hearty laugh, Nina, it is more your face than the one you were born with. One you defined. Do you not remember my final lesson? She pushed the memory out of her head. She refused to relive it. The phantom laughed again, patting her on the back, Nina! You cannot run from it! You are so young you do not understand. I died on my own terms. I died so others could see what they were up against. So they could come prepared and ready for the next era that life had brought them. She tried to block out the memories of the media campaign the Falos had gone on afterwards. She didn't want to remember him that way. Not as dead. Not for the man beneath his glorious wrestling mask. The ghost held no malice. No anger or judgement. He spoke the words she didn't want to hear. Former Italian mobster, Giovanni Allegro. Over two hundred dead by my hand or by my order. Left my old life behind to claim a new name. A new purpose. Died so that others would not walk to their own grave.
She snapped at him, "You are a ghost! A memory! You can't just force yourself on me!" She tried to get angry with him. To convert her growing depression and fear into anger and outrage. But looking into the face of a man who had never feared her a day in his life made it impossible for her to maintain that level of outrage.
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Nina, I told you that the ghosts never go away. That the best you can hope for is that they cheer you on. And that's all I have ever been doing, Nina. From the moment you saw my death until today, I have done nothing but cheer for Zora. Maiden of the Dawn. Hero of the Cosmos. Champion of those lost in the dark. He produced her mask. Her true mask. When she reached for it, he took it back the way he had back then. Nina, I need you to remember that this mask isn't just a mask. It is your face. One you have shaped and defined by your own will and actions. If you cannot remember that, then you cannot wear it and you have no place in my ring.
She looked at the mask and then at him and sighed, shaking her head, finally being honest with herself, here in her own mind. "I can't. Zora is a hero. A beacon of hope. A lie I believed just like everyone else. But Anisa... Me... I'm not okay. I think I need to accept that."
He nodded slowly, his smile not fading. It will be here for you when you remember what your true nature is.
"A violent monster waiting for an excuse..." Anisa sighed, trying to process the information that had just come her way.
His rumbling laugh broke her depression in a moment. He flexed and stood heroically despite his small stature. Not even close, Nina. But don't worry. I'll be cheering for you. The fact that I have even come to so dark a place is proof that your heart knows something your mind does not. He held out his hand, his unshakable confidence shining even in this dark moment. She wished she could be like him. To shed this darkness that must have followed him and to act without hesitation or fear of yourself. What you could do. What you might do. He laughed again as he wandered into the dark, taking her mask with him.
As he left, the comfortable darkness closed in around her once more. Sculptura held her gently and said softly, “It’s okay. You will be okay. We don’t have to pretend anymore. We can be just as we are. Forever.” As she listened to the words of her other self, she heard something else as well. Arguing. Fighting. Katsi’s voice. Sculptura smiled with relish and glee. “We are going to fuck up whoever the hell just pissed Kat off. Aren’t we, Ani?” Anisa narrowed her eyes in cold fury, knowing there was no reason to pull her punches this time. Whoever this was was about to see just how vicious she could be.