The Night I Underestimated Lucha — and Saw the Wings of Freedom | Fantastica Mania 2026 Live Report

Fantastica Mania 2026 brought together New Japan Pro-Wrestling and CMLL in a vibrant celebration of lucha culture. What I witnessed that night at Korakuen Hall quietly overturned my assumptions. I had reduced lucha to little more than “flashy aerial wrestling.” But what unfolded before me was something deeper — a living expression of freedom. This is a live report from the night my perspective changed.

The Night I Underestimated Lucha — When the Ring Grew Wings

Fantastica Mania 2026" was held at the intersection of New Japan Pro-Wrestling and CMLL. The stage for the event was Korakuen Hall.

I bought the ticket without thinking too deeply about what kind of event it would be. It was not until much later that I learned that it was a lucha festival.

The schedule conflicted with New Japan Pro Wrestling's US event, and my favorite wrestler wasn’t on the card. Still, I was excited. There was also the anticipation of experiencing a different culture.

However, there was just a little “room” in the back of my chest.

Lucha is glamorous, flashy, flying wrestling. That was the only image I had of it.

That small sense of confidence was my mistake.

The buzz before the bell. The air was filled with the constant rhythm of instruments and cheers. Only the entrance music of the Lucha group is noticeably louder.

A festive exuberance. A different kind of heat — not heavy, but electric. Not scary, but overwhelming in presence.

Heat apart from gravity. A struggle yet a festival.

And with each light leap, the air changes. The murmur of the audience turns to wind, and the sound melts into cheers.

At that moment, I realized clearly.

This wasn’t just a match. It is a culture of expressing “freedom” with all one's body.

I had underestimated lucha.

The lucha I witnessed at Korakuen Hall was not at all what I had imagined. There were indeed wings in the ring at Korakuen Hall that night.

It was a moment when one of our values was lightly turned upside down.

The Aesthetics of Poison

The night the wings began to show, the poison blew.

Match Three.
The air on the ring changes color slightly.

It was the moment when Yoshinobu Kanemaru entered the ring. Suddenly, a green mist was released. It was a surprise. Even before the match began, the heels had already begun to dominate.

The vivid green mist drifted like fog under the lights under the lights. The beauty of the moment almost makes you forget to even release the shutter.

The presence of heels also stood out in this match. Yoshinobu Kanemaru, Yujiro Takahashi, and Magnus.

Venomous and relentless. The persistence with which they continued to aim for the mask of the Tiger Mask. And when the mask finally came off, a roar erupted from the crowd

Magnus, victorious, climbs to the ropes and puts Tiger's mask in his mouth.

Heels at full throttle. Provocative, cruel, yet somehow proud. Here was the New Japan heel aesthetic.

The night of freedom is not only about light. Poison is also part of this culture.

Poison is more beautiful because of the feathers. Freedom stands out because of the poison.

Darkness lurking amidst the festivities. The contrast between the two made the evening even darker.

The Freedom of Festivals

In the aftermath of the poison, the fourth game begins. The air in the hall changed color once again.

Hatzlatu Guerrero and Ultimo Guerrero. Against Zane Jay and Templario. The ring was filled with brightness throughout.

Each time Hatsurazu stirs up the crowd. Calls of "Oyabun" echo through the crowd, and Ultimo takes them up on it. He agitates and is agitated, and the audience gets involved.

The match is supposed to be serious, but it is somewhat like a festival.

Still, it is not without tension. The brightness stands out more because of the presence of the heel side.

And justice prevails.

I even felt somewhat relieved by the development of the classic storytelling.

After the match, Ultimo removes his own mask and appeals to the crowd. Next to him, Hatzlatz is momentarily confused. Some can remove their masks and some cannot.

They stand in the same ring, but carry different burdens. Still, they stand side by side with smiles on their faces.

Here again, there was one freedom. The freedom to carry your burden with pride.

Lucha does not just fly. Even in his laughter, there was a sense of determination.

The sun laughs, the moon looks on

The fifth game was one of the most exciting of the night.

From the moment they enter the venue, the atmosphere is different. Just by calling out their names, the audience was excited. It was immediately apparent that they were the ones we had been waiting for.

Sparkling white and gold. A spirit of service that encourages the audience and turns even the booing into laughter. The spirit of service that makes you get out of the ring and walk up to the audience.

It was Soberano Jr.

Glamour like the sun. A presence that leaves no doubt that you are the star. A star quality that naturally takes the center of the ring.

On the other hand, there was a man in black and gold, looking sharply from the ring.

Mistico.

There is no flashy agitation. But there was a majesty that tightened the air just by standing there.

The sun shining its light and the moon silently illuminating. Standing in the same ring, they collide with completely different luminances.

The match was intense, beautiful, and fast.

The crowd cheered every time an aerial move was made, and even as the exchanges of techniques continued, Soberano seemed to have a certain composure.

After the match.

Soberano takes Mistico's belt. We stare at it for a while. Not to take it away, not to hold it up. Just as if to check its weight.

Then he quietly throws it back. It looked light, but the gesture was heavy.

“Next time, I’ll win it face to face.” It looked like he was declaring that.

The sun was smiling. But its eyes were already looking to the next. At this moment, the night was no longer just a festival.

The determination was there.

A Moment Where Respect Crossed Paths

The sixth game took on a slightly different temperature than the previous ones.

Atlantis Jr. and Averno.
It was a match where weight, rather than flamboyance, came to the fore.

The Atlantis costumes were so shimmering that they reflected the light. I later learned that the design of the tights was a tribute to Mistico. Perhaps he was quietly carrying the causality that is said to be the origin of Fantastikamania.

In contrast, Averno carried a completely different presence.

It doesn't move with flamboyance. It wasn't barking needlessly. But there was a gravitas that you could tell just by standing in the ring.

The relentlessness to keep aiming for the legs. He dismantled, targeted, and refused to let go.

His fighting style had the cunning that twisted youth and the conviction of someone who had fought on the front lines for a long time.

And the title match.

The moment Averno won, the match should have been over. However, it was after that that things really got exciting.

The would-be winner, Averno, first takes the hand of Atlantis Jr.

He raised Atlantis’ arm with his left hand and point your right palm toward Atlantis. Instead of pointing, he indicated with his open palm that it was him.

He had won — yet he honored his opponent.

What was there was civility, not ostentation.

Finally, Atlantis personally placed the belt around Averno's waist. It was a respectful gesture, not between the winner and the loser, but between two people who shared the same era.

The spectacle stills the flashy lucha night for a moment. There was no festivity, no agitation. Only respect was there.

Lucha is not just about flying. It is also a culture of bearing, inheriting, and acknowledging each other.

This match taught us that.

Silent Wings — La Quebrada

Match Seven.
Mascara Dorada and Etixero.

The moment the entrance music started playing, the air changed. The venue was abuzz with excitement. It was obvious at a glance that the audience had been eagerly awaiting the event.

Dorada wore shoulder support. Perhaps he was in a less than perfect condition. Even so, his appearance showed not the slightest sign of anxiety.

The moment came suddenly.

Dorada runs up to the top of the entrance gate. The audience spontaneously shouted "wow ......".

The next moment he jumped. The name of the technique was La Quebrada.

It arcs backward from a great height, flips its body in mid-air, and then descends out of the ring. Dangerous and beautiful at the same time, this is the symbolic technique of Lucha.

Then there was no sound in my ears. Did the cheers disappear or was it just silence in my world? I do not know exactly. It just felt as if time stopped for that one moment.

Large white feathers. Not pure white, but a slightly sooty color.

The color of accumulated time. The color of the proof of the fight.

In the air, it appeared to stop for just a moment. The wings buzzed open.

It is not only lightness.
It's not just about speed.

There was a kindness there that enveloped me.

Be free. Spread your wings." I felt like I was being told that.

That was not just a big game. It was culture. It was the crystallization of the idea of lucha, the physical expression of freedom itself.

The ring did indeed have feathers.

Against Etixero.

A massive physique. A dignified appearance. A body that is not supposed to fly, but dances lightly.

He took the lightness of Dorada, brought it out, and made it shine even brighter. He was a shadowy figurehead.

The last one was a moonsault press from a rope walk. More than the accuracy of the technique, the beauty will be remembered.

And then, the microphone.

He is breathing so hard that his shoulders are shaking. Even at the top, they are grinding to the limit. The sight of them struck me more than anything else.

Finally, Tanahashi's decisive line is released, including a pose.

At that moment, I understood.

The face of the organization. The resolve of those who bear it. Like someone, but different from anyone else.

The words that Mistico said--
Dorada is next in charge of CMLL.

The ring proved that this was no exaggeration.

The strongest and most beautiful flight of the night undoubtedly belonged to Dorada.

Related Articles :

• Wrestle Kingdom 20 in Tokyo Dome - The Night Wrestling Became Personal
• Why My First NJPW Show Changed Everything
• The Unspoken Choice - Tanahashi's Farewell and the Presence of Nakamura