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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"I don't care about the return of 'The Great One,'" Jericho continued, pointing a dismissive finger down at The Rock. "I don't care about the People's Champion. I don't care about nostalgia. And I certainly don't care about some Hollywood movie star trying to steal my spotlight and cut to the front of the line."
Jericho slowly began to walk down the ramp, his eyes locked exclusively on Sandro Zhang. The Undisputed System braced themselves, ready for an assault, but Jericho stopped halfway down.
"I have unfinished business with you, Sandro," Jericho snarled, the venom dripping from every syllable. "You tried to take my career. You tried to take my livelihood. You tried to humiliate me in front of the entire world. And you think because you hit me in the back of the head at TLC, that it's over?"
Jericho let out a dark, humorless chuckle.
"It's not over," Jericho promised, tapping his own chest. "The Painmaker isn't done with you. And whoever gets in my way, whether it's The Rock, whether it's CM Punk, whether it's your entire army of sycophants, is going to be in a lot of pain. I am going to take that World Heavyweight Championship from you, Sandro. One way or another."
The fans cheered the absolute conviction in Jericho's voice. He was a lone wolf, fighting a war against an empire.
"So here are your options, 'God King,'" Jericho sneered, using air quotes to mock the title. "You either accept my challenge for a one on one title match at the Royal Rumble. And I don't want a standard wrestling match. I want a No Holds Barred match. Or better yet... an 'I Quit' match. Let's see how tough the King really is when there are no rules to hide behind."
Jericho paused, letting the severity of the challenge sink in.
"Or," Jericho added, his eyes widening with manic intensity. "You can coward out. You can refuse. And if you refuse, I will enter the Royal Rumble match myself. I will win it. And from now, I am making you a promise, Sandro. I will make sure that you, your pathetic little girls, and your brainwashed boys live in absolute, constant fear every single time the lights go out, all the way up to WrestleMania."
The New York crowd erupted into massive cheers. Jericho had laid down a terrifying ultimatum. He wasn't just threatening Sandro's titles, he was threatening his peace of mind.
Inside the ring, Sandro Zhang didn't look terrified. The initial shock of Jericho's appearance had faded, replaced by a cold, searing anger that this ghost refused to die.
Sandro's hand gripped tightly on the microphone in his hand. He stepped to the very edge of the ring apron, entirely ignoring the protective circle of his faction, and stared back up the ramp at the painted face of the Painmaker.
"You think you scare me?" Sandro asked, his voice a chilling, smooth baritone that cut right through the crowd noise. "You think putting on some cheap greasepaint, a ridiculous black hat, and a leather jacket suddenly makes you a threat to my empire? You are not intimidating, Chris. You are pathetic."
Sandro slowly paced the apron, the World Heavyweight Championship gleaming around his waist.
"I am not afraid of you, Chris," Sandro declared, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "I am not afraid of this sad, desperate new persona you've created because you can't handle the reality that your time has passed. I defeated you at TLC. I beat you alongside four other legend and future hall of famer caliber superstars. I broke your back, and I put you to sleep. So tell me, Chris, on what base do you have the unmitigated guts to stand up there and demand a challenge for my newly won World Heavyweight Title? What have you done to earn it? Just because your name is Chris Jericho?"
Sandro let out a sharp, dismissive laugh, turning his head to spit on the canvas in a blatant show of absolute disrespect.
"I don't care about your legacy," Sandro spat, turning his intense gaze back up the ramp. "I am sick and tired of people from your generation crawling out of the woodwork, coming down here to my ring, and simply demanding a title match because they think they're entitled to it. You are exactly like the man lying unconscious at your feet."
Sandro pointed his scepter at the fallen Rock.
"You and The Rock are cut from the exact same, irrelevant cloth," Sandro mocked. "You both think your history gives you a free pass. So, I will tell you exactly what I told him. If you want a shot at the Triple Crown, you earn it like everyone else. Go enter the Royal Rumble. Try to win it. And if by some miracle your broken, aging body manages to survive twenty nine other men, then you can challenge me at WrestleMania."
Sandro took a step forward, his eyes boring a hole directly into Jericho's soul.
"But before you spout your absolute nonsense about making my life a living hell, let me make one thing crystal clear to you," Sandro threatened, his voice dropping into a deadly, serious whisper. "I am not afraid of you. My queens are not afraid of you. My family is not afraid of you. It is the Undisputed System that makes lives a living hell, Chris. Not the other way around. We are the ones who break careers. So, if you decide to keep playing these little games in the dark... you better tread very, very wisely."
Sandro didn't wait for a response. He didn't want a debate. The God King had spoken his final decree.
He dropped the microphone. It hit the ring apron with a dull thud, tumbling down to the concrete floor below.
Sandro turned his back on Chris Jericho, holding his arms out. AJ Lee, Nikki Bella, and Alexa Bliss immediately moved to his side, handing him the WWE and United States Championships. Sandro draped the gold over his shoulders, adjusting his crown, entirely dismissing the threat standing on the ramp.
The heavy, aggressive theme of the Undisputed System blasted back through the arena speakers, drowning out whatever response Jericho was trying to make.
The broadcast officially reached its hard out. The copyright graphic faded onto the screen, slowly scrolling upward as the camera pulled back for a wide, dramatic final shot of Madison Square Garden.
The image was a perfect encapsulation of the chaos that was 2011 WWE. The Rock, arguably the biggest star in the world, was lying motionless on the entrance stage, a victim of a brutal blindside attack.
Chris Jericho, his face painted like a madman, stood alone on the ramp, gripping his baseball bat, staring with pure, unadulterated hatred toward the ring. And in the center of the squared circle stood Sandro, draped in the Triple Crown, surrounded by an army of enforcers and queens, looking utterly untouchable.
The screen slowly faded to black, leaving the WWE Universe with a terrifying realization, the God King was at war with legends, and he had absolutely no intention of losing his empire.
The moment the Network broadcast officially cut to its closing commercials, the digital world practically self destructed. If the servers at Twitter had struggled to process the fallout from Tribute to the Troops, the aftermath of the first Monday Night RAW of 2011 completely overwhelmed them.
For several minutes, the social media platform lagged, sputtered, and crashed for users across North America as a tsunami of frantic, adrenaline fueled reactions flooded the timeline.
It was an undeniable, nuclear reaction. The hashtags surrounding the event completely monopolized the top ten worldwide trending topics. #RAW2011, #TheRockReturns, #TripleCrown, #Painmaker, #GodKing, and #RoyalRumble were attached to millions of tweets moving faster than the human eye could read.
The fans were absolutely buzzing, frantically trying to process the sheer volume of chaotic, historic moments that had been crammed into the final thirty minutes of the broadcast. The timeline was a glorious, chaotic mess of all caps excitement, meme reactions, and sprawling threads breaking down every single beat of the main event segment.
It started with the celebration. Fans were dissecting Paul Heyman's masterful, sycophantic promo, marveling at the visual of Sandro Zhang standing in the center of Madison Square Garden draped in three different world championships. The sheer audacity of the Triple Crown presentation had the WWE Universe completely captivated.
Then came the tension. When Sandro had turned his attention to Dolph Ziggler, the digital world had collectively held its breath.
@EmpireOfGold99: I swear to God, I thought Ziggler was a dead man. When Sandro put his finger on Dolph's suit, I was waiting for Big E to snap him in half. The psychology of the Undisputed System is incredible. Sandro sparing him, but ordering him and Xavier Woods to go back to NXT and take the tag titles from Rollins and Ambrose? That is mafia boss behavior. "You lost my gold, bring me someone else's." Incredible storytelling!
But the true explosion of digital madness came when the lights first flickered out. When the iconic "IF YA SMELL..." hit the arena speakers, wrestling fans who hadn't watched the product in years were suddenly being texted by their friends, told to immediately turn on their televisions.
The return of The Great One after a seven year absence was a closely guarded secret that had paid off flawlessly.
@AttitudeEraMark: THE ROCK IS BACK!!! I am literally crying in my living room right now. He hasn't lost a single step! He absolutely cooked Paul Heyman, and then he went toe to toe with Sandro!
The promo battle between Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson and Sandro Zhang became the most heavily debated topic of the night. Fans were utterly shocked that the twenty one years old Triple Crown Champion didn't wither under the blinding spotlight of the biggest crossover star on the planet. Sandro had stood his ground, firing back with genuine venom, calling The Rock a "tourist" and threatening to break his neck.
@WrestlingSavant: You have to give Sandro all the credit in the world. 99% of the locker room would get completely verbally buried by The Rock. But Sandro held his own. The Rock declaring for the Royal Rumble to challenge the God King at WrestleMania? We are looking at the biggest main event of the last twenty years.
And just when the WWE Universe thought they had a second to catch their collective breath, the lights went out again.
The image of Chris Jericho, his face painted in the terrifying, black and white greasepaint of the Painmaker, standing over the unconscious body of The Rock with a baseball bat in hand, sent the timeline into overdrive.
It was a twist nobody saw coming. Jericho wasn't just returning to fight Sandro, he was declaring war on anyone who stood between him and his vengeance.
@Y2J_Forever: THE PAINMAKER IS HERE! Jericho just laid out The Rock! This is absolute madness! He challenged Sandro to a No Holds Barred match or an I Quit match at the Rumble, or else he's going to win the Rumble himself and terrorize the Undisputed System until Mania! The stakes have never been higher!
Sandro's cold, dismissive reaction to Jericho's ultimatum only fueled the fire. He scoffed at the legend, treating him like an annoying insect rather than a credible threat, telling him to get in line behind The Rock and earn his spot.
A massive, overwhelming majority of the fanbase absolutely loved the chaotic, unpredictable nature of the show. They praised the intertwining storylines, the high stakes, and the sheer star power that had just been injected into the Road to WrestleMania.
However, professional wrestling is a broad church, and there was a vocal, deeply cynical minority who took to their keyboards to complain about the broadcast.
@PuroresuPurist: Typical WWE garbage. Sandro Zhang is building this incredible, dominant faction, and how do they book the start of WrestleMania season? By bringing back two guys from the previous generation to steal the main event spots. The Rock hasn't wrestled in seven years, and Jericho was just written off TV. Why are they suddenly jumping the line? It completely buries the full time roster.
This sentiment, while present, was largely drowned out by the sheer spectacle of what had just transpired. The wrestling media apparatus, the journalists, the dirt sheet analysts, and the podcasters, rushed to their microphones to document the historic broadcast.
The renowned Squared Circle Insider published a glowing editorial just an hour after the show ended.
"The Road to WrestleMania 27 officially kicked off tonight, and it did so with a level of chaotic brilliance we haven't seen since the height of the Monday Night Wars. The WWE has brilliantly positioned Sandro Zhang as an insurmountable, final boss level tyrant. By having him brush off the challenge of Chris Jericho and stand face to face with The Rock, the company has elevated the God King to a mythical status. The Royal Rumble match is now the most highly anticipated bout in recent memory. If The Rock is in, and the Painmaker is in, the unpredictability factor is off the charts. Tonight was a masterclass in sports entertainment television."
Over on the highly popular Ring Ropes Analysis podcast, the hosts were practically screaming into their pop filters, their voices hoarse from excitement.
"Listen to me!" the lead host yelled, slapping his desk. "I don't care what the cynics say! When the lights went out the second time, I thought it was The Undertaker! But then you see that cross eyed mask? You see Jericho with the bat?! That is long term storytelling paying off! Jericho was filled with retribution when Sandro kicked him out of the faction, and he is delivering on it! But the best part of the whole segment? Sandro didn't even flinch! The God King basically told the two biggest legends of the 2000s to take a number and wait in line! He is a made man!"
His co host chimed in, equally ecstatic. "And we can't ignore the ripple effects! Dolph Ziggler and Xavier Woods are now on a collision course with Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose in NXT! The Undisputed System is fighting wars on multiple fronts! RAW, SmackDown, NXT, the Royal Rumble... the God King's fingerprints are on every single piece of programming this company produces. It is a golden age of villainy!"
While the digital world burned with debates, hot takes, and viral clips, the reality backstage at Madison Square Garden was a stark contrast to the venomous hatred displayed in the ring.
The moment Sandro and his faction stepped through the heavy black curtain, leaving the roaring crowd behind them in the arena, the oppressive, terrifying aura of the Undisputed System instantly evaporated. The broad shoulders relaxed, the arrogant smirks faded into genuine, exhausted smiles, and the heavy burden of carrying the flagship show lifted.
Sandro unbuttoned his suit jacket, carefully handing the World Heavyweight Championship to a nearby prop assistant to be placed in its velvet lined travel case. He ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair, letting out a long, heavy breath.
"Great segment, everyone," Sandro said, his voice completely devoid of the icy sociopathy he had just projected to millions. "The timing on the ring perimeter was perfect, guys."
Big E grinned, wiping sweat from his forehead. "You felt that crowd out there, man? When the lights went out, I thought my eardrums were going to burst." Just a few moments later, the curtain rustled again.
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 21 (2011)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championships History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA X Division Champion, 1x WWE United States Champion, 1x WWE Champion, & 1x World Heavyweight Champion
Other Achievements: 1x Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner, 1x Mr. Money In The Bank, Youngest WWE Champion, PWI Top 500 (No.1) - 2010, & 1x KOTR (2010)
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0