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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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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.
Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson walked through the Gorilla position. He wasn't glaring. He wasn't shouting catchphrases. He was rubbing the back of his neck, where Jericho had "struck" him with the padded prop bat, and a massive, blinding, million dollar smile was plastered across his face.
The energy in the backstage area immediately shifted. Even for seasoned professionals, the sheer gravitational pull of The Rock's charisma was undeniable.
The Rock walked directly toward the Undisputed System. He extended a massive, tattooed hand, his eyes shining with genuine respect and excitement.
"Hell of a job out there, guys," The Rock said, his voice warm and commanding. "Absolute magic. You felt that energy? That's what it's all about."
He moved down the line, shaking hands with the men who had just stood in the ring looking ready to tear him apart. He shook hands with Big E, Ryback, Wade Barrett, and Drew McIntyre.
He paused in front of Xavier Woods and Dolph Ziggler, offering a firm grip. "Keep up the hustle, boys," The Rock encouraged them. "You're doing great work."
For the majority of the faction, this was the very first time they had ever met Dwayne Johnson face to face. They had grown up watching him, studying his promos, and idolizing his legendary rise.
Xavier Woods looked like he was internally fighting the urge to completely mark out, offering a polite, professional nod while his eyes widened with excitement. Dolph Ziggler, a veteran in his own right, shook the legend's hand with deep respect.
The Rock turned his attention to the Queens of the faction. He smiled warmly at AJ Lee, Nikki Bella, and Alexa Bliss, offering each of them a gentle hug.
"Sorry about the strudel line, ladies," The Rock chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You know how it is. Gotta give the people what they want."
"We'll forgive you this time," AJ laughed, completely out of her unhinged persona, adjusting the Divas Championship on her shoulder. "But only because it popped the crowd so loud."
Paul Heyman stepped forward, a wide, genuine grin on his face. He and The Rock had crossed paths many times over the decades, sharing a long, complicated history in the business.
"Dwayne," Heyman said, extending his hand.
"Paul," The Rock replied, pulling the legendary manager in for a quick, brotherly embrace. "You haven't lost a step, my man. You're still the best hype man on the planet."
"And you're still calling me a bitch on live television," Heyman chuckled, shaking his head. "Some things never change."
"Hey, it's a classic for a reason," The Rock grinned.
Finally, The Rock turned his attention to the man who was currently holding the entire industry on his shoulders. He walked over to Sandro Zhang, who was standing quietly near a stack of production crates, sipping from a bottle of water.
The two men looked at each other for a moment, the past generation's biggest star meeting the current generation's undisputed ruler.
The Rock extended his hand. Sandro took it, returning the firm, respectful grip.
"Sandro," The Rock said, his tone shifting from jovial to deeply sincere. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you face to face, well outside of the ring of course."
"The pleasure is mine, Dwayne," Sandro replied, offering a polite, genuine smile. "Thank you for coming back. That segment out there... it elevates everything we're trying to do."
"No, thank you," The Rock corrected him, stepping slightly closer, lowering his voice so only Sandro and the immediate circle could hear. "I've been watching the product from afar. I see what's happening here. What you have accomplished in just one year... it's phenomenal. Meteoric doesn't even begin to describe it."
The Rock leaned against the production crate, crossing his massive arms, looking at Sandro with an analytical, appreciative eye.
"A lot of guys can get handed a push," The Rock continued, his voice echoing with the wisdom of a man who had conquered the mountain. "A lot of guys can get the machine behind them. But they don't know what to do with it. They crumble under the weight. You? You took the ball and you ran it out of the damn stadium."
Sandro nodded, listening intently. Praise from his peers was one thing, but praise from a Mount Rushmore level talent was something entirely different.
"But it's not just the character work that impresses me," The Rock said, pointing a finger at Sandro's chest. "It's your mind for the business. I talk to Vince, I talk to Triple H and Steph, I talk to the boys in the back. Everyone is saying the same thing. Your in ring psychology, your pacing, your understanding of how to milk a moment... you book a match like a guy who has been lacing up boots for thirty years."
"For a young man to have that kind of ring IQ so early in his career? It's incredibly rare. You shouldn't have that mind yet. It usually takes a lifetime of making mistakes to learn what you already know."
"I study a lot," Sandro replied humbly, glancing over at Paul Heyman, acknowledging the guidance the am had also provided. "I try to understand why things work, not just how to do them."
"Well, it's working," The Rock smiled, clapping Sandro firmly on the shoulder. "You're drawing money, you're building a legacy, and you're making people care. And let me tell you, standing out there with you tonight? You didn't blink. You held your ground against The Rock in the middle of Madison Square Garden. That takes grapefruits, kid."
Sandro chuckled, the tension completely leaving his body. "I had to give it back to you. The God King doesn't back down from anyone. Not even the Great One."
"Exactly," The Rock nodded approvingly. "Protect the character. Protect the aura. You keep doing exactly what you're doing, Sandro. Because this Road to WrestleMania? Between you, me, and Jericho? We are going to make some absolute magic. We are going to blow the roof off this industry."
"I look forward to it," Sandro agreed, feeling a profound sense of validation settling in his chest.
"Alright, I gotta go get some ice on this neck," The Rock laughed, rubbing the back of his head where Jericho had "attacked" him. "Chris still swings that bat like a maniac. I'll see you boys down the road. Keep the gold shiny for me, Sandro."
"Don't count on it, Dwayne," Sandro smirked playfully.
The Rock let out a booming laugh, giving a final wave to the Undisputed System before disappearing down the concrete hallway, flanked by WWE officials and security, leaving an undeniable buzz of electricity in his wake.
Sandro turned back to his faction. Big E was still grinning ear to ear, AJ Lee was shaking her head in disbelief, and Paul Heyman looked like a proud father watching his son graduate.
They had just shared a ring with absolute royalty, and they hadn't just survived; they had thrived. The digital world might have been burning with outrage, debate, and frantic speculation about the future, but inside the quiet, concrete walls of the backstage area, the reality was perfectly clear.
Sandro had earned the respect of the legends. He had conquered the locker room. And as the clock ticked down toward the Royal Rumble, the Triple Crown Champion knew that his empire was not just a storyline, it was the undeniable, unbreakable reality of the professional wrestling industry. The God King was truly here to stay, and the world was just going to have to get used to bowing down.
The euphoria of Madison Square Garden eventually had to settle into the harsh, demanding reality of the weekly schedule. The God King had issued a mandate, and his subjects had to deliver.
Two days passed, bringing the wrestling world to Wednesday night. Down in the intimate, gritty arena in Tampa, Florida, the NXT Universe was still riding high on the fumes of Bray Wyatt dethroning Dolph Ziggler. The atmosphere was incredibly hostile toward the Undisputed System.
When the heavy bass of SHOCK THE SYSTEM hit the speakers, the Tampa crowd erupted into a chorus of aggressive boos.
Dolph Ziggler and Xavier Woods marched out from the curtain. They weren't accompanied by the entire golden wall of muscle this time, they were on a specific, targeted mission. They were flanked only by the Special Advisor himself, Paul Heyman, who clutched a microphone with a look of severe determination.
Ziggler and Woods slid into the ring, their expressions dark and focused. They knew the stakes. Sandro Zhang had promised them absolute destruction if they failed to capture the NXT Tag Team Championships.
Heyman raised the microphone, demanding silence from the hostile crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen of NXT," Heyman sneered, pacing the ring. "I stand before you not just as an advocate, but as an emissary of the God King of WWE. My fellow family members, Dolph Ziggler and Xavier Woods, have been issued a divine decree. They have been commanded to retrieve the gold that rightfully belongs to the Undisputed System."
Heyman pointed his microphone directly at the entrance stage.
"Seth Rollins! Dean Ambrose!" Heyman shouted. "You are currently holding property that does not belong to you! So I suggest you march down to this ring right now, put those NXT Tag Team Championships on the line, and face your inevitable demise!"
The crowd buzzed, waiting for the champions to appear. But the stage remained empty. No music hit. No one walked through the curtain.
Ziggler snatched the microphone from Heyman, his frustration boiling over.
"Are you kidding me?!" Ziggler yelled, running a hand through his bleach blonde hair. "You two cowards won those titles a week ago, and you're already hiding in the back? Seth, Dean, you think you're rebels? You think you're fighting the machine? You're nothing but scared little boys playing dress up with my family's gold!"
Woods stepped forward, demanding the mic from Ziggler.
"We know you're back there listening!" Woods shouted, dropping his usual fun loving demeanor for a cold, intense glare. "You want to prove that you deserve to be champions? Get out here! Or are you too terrified that the God King's enforcers are going to expose you as the transitional frauds you really are?!"
The insults finally hit their mark.
A heavy, driving rock instrumental blared through the speakers. The Tampa crowd popped massively as the new NXT Tag Team Champions, Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose, stepped through the curtain. They were dressed in their chaotic street gear, the shiny tag titles draped casually over their shoulders. But they hadn't come out alone.
Standing stoically between them was the imposing, heavily muscled enforcer who had helped them win the belts, Roman Reigns.
The three men stood at the top of the ramp, looking down at the ring with absolute disdain. Ambrose, chewing gum and twitching with manic energy, held a microphone.
"Wow," Ambrose drawled, his voice echoing through the arena. "That is a whole lot of tough talk coming from two guys whose boss had to literally threaten their jobs just to get them to show up to work today."
The crowd laughed, completely eating up the insult.
"You guys are out here demanding a title shot?" Rollins chimed in, stepping forward, his eyes narrowed. "Dolph, Xavier, let me explain how reality works down here in NXT. This isn't Monday Night RAW. You don't just get to snap your fingers and jump to the front of the line just because your so called 'God King' threw a temper tantrum in New York."
Rollins pointed at the titles on his shoulder.
"You haven't even competed in a single tag team match in NXT!" Rollins yelled. "What makes you so confident you deserve a shot? Just because Sandro Zhang told you to take them? You thought you could just walk out here, insult us, and we'd hand them over? In your dreams, corporate stooges."
Ziggler looked furious, ready to charge up the ramp, but Heyman held him back.
"We don't need to earn it!" Ziggler screamed back off mic. "We are the Undisputed System!"
"You're a joke!" Ambrose fired back. "You want a shot? You're going to have to pry these belts out of our cold, dead hands. And looking at the three of us... I don't like your odds."
The tension snapped. Ziggler and Woods couldn't wait any longer. They bailed out of the ring, charging up the ramp to meet the champions head on. Rollins, Ambrose, and Reigns dropped the titles and charged forward to meet them.
The five men collided on the steel grating of the entrance stage in a chaotic, wild brawl. Reigns threw heavy right hands at Ziggler, while Ambrose and Woods tackled each other to the floor. Heyman stood in the ring, screaming for security.
But the brawl was suddenly, violently interrupted.
The arena lights cut out.
The chilling, swampy guitar riff of the Wyatt Family hit the speakers.
When the lights snapped back on, absolute carnage had arrived on the stage.
Luke Harper and Erick Rowan, the monstrous former inaugural tag team champions, had appeared out of thin air. They didn't take sides. They simply laid waste to everyone.
Harper hit a devastating double discuss clothesline on Xavier and Ziggler that nearly decapitated both of them. Rowan hit Ambrose with a big spinning big boot and then grabbed Rollins by the throat and chokeslammed him mercilessly onto the steel stage.
Roman Reigns tried to fight back, hitting Harper with a Superman Punch, but he was immediately blindsided by the Eater of Worlds himself.
Bray Wyatt, the newly crowned NXT Champion, emerged from the shadows. He grabbed Reigns, spun him around, and planted him face first into the steel with a sickening Sister Abigail.
The stage was a graveyard of broken bodies from both factions. Bray Wyatt knelt down, picking up one of the discarded NXT Tag Team Championships. He looked at it, a psychotic, gap toothed smile spreading across his face, before dropping it onto the chest of a fallen Dean Ambrose.
The message was clear. The Undisputed System wasn't the only threat to the gold. The Wyatt Family wanted their property back, and developmental was officially a three-way warzone.
Days passed, the weekend came and went, and the wrestling world braced itself for the fallout.
It was Monday night, and the WWE juggernaut had rolled into Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
The fans flocked into the arena, buzzing with an incredible, fever pitch anticipation. They had come to see the direct aftermath of the most chaotic RAW in recent memory.
The return of The Rock after seven long years. The blistering promo exchange between The Great One and the God King. And, most importantly, the shocking, violent arrival of Chris Jericho the Painmaker, who had brutally attacked The Rock out of pure, unadulterated vengeance against Sandro Zhang.
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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