Rhea's Web.

Chapter 12*

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The fluorescent lights of the Judgement Day locker room hummed with a sterile indifference that belied the simmering tensions within. 

Rhea Ripley, the Nightmare herself, sat on a bench, a towel thrown casually over her shoulder, still catching her breath from an earlier segment. 

She'd watched the match between Damian Priest and Y/N with a hawk's eye, a pleased smirk playing on her lips. 

There was a raw aggression in Y/N tonight, a focused intensity she had been patiently cultivating. 

She thought she'd seen a flicker of mutual respect in the aftermath, a grudging acknowledgment from Y/N to Damian, but Priest wasn't so sure.

Damian limped in, favoring his knee, the pain a grimace on his face as he collapsed onto the bench opposite Rhea. "He didn't even shake my hand."

Rhea leaned forward, her voice low and conspiratorial. "It's probably better if he didn't. We don't need Edge suspicious. Not yet."

Damian scoffed, shaking his head. "You sure Y/N can beat him?"

"Yeah," Rhea affirmed, her tone unwavering.

"Well, he needs a new plan," Damian grumbled, rubbing his knee. The memory of Y/N's relentless assault on his leg was still fresh.

Rhea silently agreed. The last time, she had subtly fed Y/N the idea to target Edge's neck, a strategy that had backfired spectacularly. 

Y/N, in his eagerness to prove himself, had focused too much on the vulnerable spot to his own detriment, allowing Edge to capitalize on his tunnel vision. 

It was a rookie mistake, something she wouldn't allow him to repeat. "Yeah, he will think of something." She was sure of it. Or rather, she would.

Her gaze softened, a rare, almost maternal concern entering her eyes. "How's your knee?" she asked, genuinely worried. 

Y/N's strategy to dismantle Damian limb by limb had been incredibly smart, ruthlessly efficient. It made her incredibly proud; it was a tactic he wouldn't have even considered a month ago, under AJ's misguided tutelage. Under her guidance, he was evolving.

Damian grunted, flexing his leg. "Apart from your little project targeting it all match, I should be good for Hell in a Cell." There was a hint of an accusation in his voice, but Rhea knew it was playful, a sibling's jab.

A tiny, almost imperceptible part of Rhea's mind pictured it, an image that had been forming for weeks: Rhea and Y/N standing victorious over a fallen Edge, a new, dominant power couple forged in the fires of Edge's downfall. 

Damian, while an invaluable asset, sometimes felt like a third wheel in that particular vision.

But that wasn't the only reason. 

As she thought about Y/N, a warmth spread through her, a feeling she rarely allowed herself to acknowledge. 

He was trusting her, implicitly. He was so raw, so vulnerable, a small, confused child in a world designed to chew him up and spit him out. 

She didn't want him to be overwhelmed, to be pulled in too many directions. It would just be better if it was Rhea and Y/N, a concise, focused unit.

It would also be better so that Moronic Morgan and Balor didn't interfere like they had in Y/N's title match against Theory, leading to that sloppy moment where she'd accidentally kicked Y/N in the face.