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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The heavy, aggressive guitar riff of "This Fire Burns" blasted through the sound system, immediately drowned out by the absolute, earth shattering roar of the Seattle crowd. "Here is your winner... CM PUNK!" Justin Roberts announced, his voice booming over the roaring crowd.
"He did it! CM Punk did it!" Cole yelled triumphantly, practically jumping out of his chair. "CM Punk has survived the Painmaker! The match at the Royal Rumble will remain a one on one contest! It will be CM Punk challenging Sandro Zhang for the World Heavyweight Championship!"
"What an absolute war!" Lawler applauded, shaking his head in sheer disbelief at the physical toll both men had just endured. "But you have to feel for Chris Jericho. He wanted Sandro Zhang so badly. He wanted vengeance for the Undisputed System taking his career, and now that direct path has been completely shut down."
"He doesn't deserve a path, King!" JBL scoffed, crossing his arms with a smug, satisfied smirk. "Jericho is a failure! He failed the God King, and now he has failed to even earn a shot at him! Good riddance!"
Inside the ring, the scene was one of total, devastating exhaustion. CM Punk slowly rolled off Jericho, clutching his taped ribs, his face contorted in pain. He dragged himself to his knees, taking deep, ragged breaths, trying to process the monumental victory.
On the mat beside him, Chris Jericho began to stir. The realization of his defeat hit him harder than the physical strike itself. The Painmaker slowly pushed himself up to a seated position, staring blankly at the canvas.
His chaotic black and white face paint was completely ruined, smeared with sweat and blood. The heartbreak in his eyes was palpable, broadcasted on the massive TitanTron for the entire world to see.
His chance for pure, unadulterated, brutal needs of vengeance against Sandro Zhang had just slipped through his fingers. He could not insert himself into the championship match. His only remaining option was the grueling, unpredictable chaos of the thirty man Royal Rumble.
CM Punk finally managed to get to his feet. He looked down at the devastated veteran. Despite the bitter, personal rivalry and the brutal attacks over the past few weeks, Punk recognized the sheer heart and agonizing desperation of the man sitting on the mat.
Punk took a step forward. He slowly extended his taped, bruised right hand down toward Jericho.
The crowd buzzed, surprised by the sudden show of sportsmanship.
Punk leaned down slightly, speaking over the blaring entrance music. "We can't do this alone, Chris," Punk said, his voice raw and exhausted, but entirely genuine. "You know what we're up against. We are fighting a billionaire's empire. We are fighting an army. You want your hands on Sandro? I want my title back. We should work together. Take down the Undisputed System."
Jericho stared at the extended hand for a long, heavy moment. The Painmaker persona was built on isolation, on sadistic violence, and on absolute, uncompromising vengeance.
Jericho slowly looked up, his smeared, chaotic eyes locking onto Punk's. There was no gratitude in his gaze. There was only a cold, bitter, hollow darkness.
Jericho ignored the handshake. He didn't say a single word. He simply turned away, rolling under the bottom rope and dropping heavily to the ringside floor. The Seattle crowd let out a disappointed sigh as Jericho slowly, painfully limped his way up the entrance ramp, his dream of getting his hand on Sandro at the Royal Rumble completely dead.
In the ring, Punk let his hand drop to his side, watching Jericho leave. He understood. Some men were simply too broken by the God King to accept help.
At this time, Luke Gallows and Joey Mercury slid into the ring, joining their leader. They patted Punk on the back, raising his arms in victory, celebrating the monumental win that kept their World Heavyweight Championship dreams alive.
But the celebration was violently, abruptly cut short.
The arena lights flickered.
The terrifying, distorted, heavy bass drop of SHOCK THE SYSTEM completely hijacked the sound system, rattling the teeth of everyone in the KeyArena.
The Seattle crowd instantly transitioned from cheering to a massive, deafening, hostile wall of boos.
The TitanTron flared with gold, and the God King emerged.
Sandro Zhang stepped out from the curtain. But this time, the visual was entirely different.
He was completely alone.
There was no Paul Heyman hovering over his shoulder. There were no Queens holding his excess titles. There was no massive wall of heavily muscled enforcers flanking him. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the Triple Crown Champion had walked out without his protective shield.
The arrogance of the statement was staggering.
Sandro was dressed impeccably. He wore his custom tailored, luxurious black suit with the subtle gold pinstripes. The ornate black King of the Ring crown rested perfectly upon his head. Draped over his broad shoulders was the heavy, opulent fur coat.
But it was the gold that truly defined the moment.
Strapped tightly around his waist was the World Heavyweight Championship, the very title CM Punk had just bled to fight for.
Resting casually on his left shoulder was the United States Championship, and resting on his right shoulder was the WWE Championship. He was a walking fortress of monopolized power.
"Look at the sheer arrogance of the Triple Crown Champion!" Cole yelled, his voice laced with dread. "He walked out here entirely by himself! He doesn't even feel the need to bring his army down to the ring!"
"Because he is completely fearless, Michael!" JBL cheered loudly, giving a standing ovation at the commentary desk. "The God King is sending a message! He watched CM Punk go through an absolute meat grinder, and he is letting the Voice of the Voiceless know that he isn't afraid of him! He doesn't need his big enforcers and speaker to handle his business! He is the undisputed ruler of this universe!"
Sandro walked to the very edge of the entrance stage, stopping under a singular golden spotlight. He didn't raise a microphone. He didn't utter a single word.
He simply looked down the long steel ramp, his cold, dead, sociopathic eyes locking directly onto CM Punk in the center of the ring. Sandro slowly raised his hands, grasping the plates of the WWE and United States Championships on his shoulders, while jutting his hips forward slightly to emphasize the World Heavyweight Championship around his waist.
A dark, mocking smirk played across the God King's lips.
Inside the ring, CM Punk, flanked by Gallows and Mercury, glared back with pure, unadulterated hatred. Punk patted his own waist, screaming off mic that he was taking his property back.
The visual was absolute cinematic perfection. The battered, bruised, defiant rebel standing in the ring with his loyal soldiers, staring up the mountain at the pristine, untouched, arrogant tyrant dripping in gold.
Sandro Zhang had made his statement loud and clear. He was not afraid of the rematch. He was not afraid of the Straight Edge Society. Next week, on Saturday night, at the Royal Rumble, they would face each other one on one.
The camera slowly zoomed in on Sandro's cold, unblinking stare as the copyright graphic appeared on the screen. The silent, intense, and terrifying staredown was the final image burned into the minds of the WWE Universe as Monday Night RAW slowly faded to black.
Days passed, the week evaporating into a blur of intense training, travel, and mounting anticipation. The entire wrestling world was counting down the hours to the Royal Rumble.
But while the main event scene was locked in a bitter standoff, the Undisputed System was ruthlessly executing its expansion plans down in the developmental brand.
On the first Wednesday following the RAW standoff, the heavy bass of SHOCK THE SYSTEM invaded NXT in Tampa, Florida. Dolph Ziggler and Xavier Woods, flanked by Paul Heyman, marched to the ring with severe, uncompromising focus. The God King's ultimatum was still ringing in their ears. They had to capture the NXT Tag Team Championships, or face career execution.
They were booked against the South Beach Boys, the flashy, energetic duo of Darren Young and Percy Watson.
The match was a showcase of vicious, calculated tag team wrestling. Ziggler and Woods operated with a terrifying new edge. They didn't pander to the crowd; they systematically isolated Percy Watson, utilizing quick tags and illegal double team maneuvers behind the referee's back. When Darren Young finally got the hot tag, Woods immediately shut him down with a stiff enzuigiri.
The finish was clinical. Ziggler hit a beautiful superkick on Watson to knock him off the apron, while Woods caught a charging Young with the Lost in the Woods facebreaker. Ziggler immediately followed up with the Zig Zag, pinning Young cleanly in the center of the ring.
The following Wednesday, the second week of their developmental campaign, Ziggler and Woods returned to Tampa to face the Midcard Mafias, the gritty, hard hitting team of Curt Hawkins and Tyler Reks.
This match was much more physical, a true test of their toughness. Reks used his massive size to ground Ziggler, while Hawkins hit a series of cheap shots.
But the synergy of the Undisputed System duo was undeniable. Woods made a blind tag, completely catching Hawkins off guard with a spectacular springboard flying clothesline.
The conclusion mirrored their previous victories. Woods hit a rapid fire sequence of kicks on Reks, sending him tumbling to the outside, before Ziggler caught Hawkins with a leaping Fameasser, transitioning seamlessly into the Zig Zag for the three count.
In just two weeks, Dolph Ziggler and Xavier Woods had picked up two highly impressive, dominant tag team victories. They had significantly increased their credibility within the NXT tag team division.
They were operating like a well oiled machine, and as Paul Heyman raised their hands in victory on the final Wednesday before the pay per view, the message to the reigning champions, Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins, was terrifyingly clear. The God King's enforcers were coming for the gold.
Then, the calendar finally turned. The waiting was over.
It was Saturday night. It was time for the 2011 Royal Rumble.
The event was being held in the legendary TD Garden in Boston, Massachusetts. The city, known for its rabid, passionate, and incredibly vocal sports fans, had turned out in absolute droves. The massive arena was completely, undeniably sold out, packed to the absolute rafters with eighteen thousand screaming members of the WWE Universe.
The atmosphere outside the building had been electric for hours, but inside, the tension was palpable. The fans had flocked to Boston for two massive, history making reasons.
First, they were desperate to see the highly anticipated, deeply personal rematch for the World Heavyweight Championship. CM Punk, battered but unbroken, was looking to reclaim his title and end the Triple Crown Era against the arrogant, untouchable God King, Sandro Zhang.
But secondly, and perhaps even more intriguingly, they had come for the Royal Rumble match itself.
The landscape of the thirty man over the top rope classic had been fundamentally altered. The Great One, The Rock, was officially participating, looking to secure his second Rumble victory and punch his ticket to the main event of WrestleMania to confront the Triple Crown Champion.
And lurking in the shadows of the Rumble was Chris Jericho. The Painmaker, having lost his opportunity to face Sandro in a singles match, was now a dangerous, desperate wildcard. Winning the Royal Rumble was his absolute last remaining chance to get his hands on the God King and enact his dark, unhinged vengeance.
The arena lights dimmed, the massive TitanTron flared to life, and the epic, cinematic video package detailing the Road to the Royal Rumble began to play. And the road to WrestleMania was about to officially begin in the city of Boston.
BOOM!
The opening pyrotechnics erupted with earth-shattering force, sending massive pillars of fire and showers of golden sparks shooting toward the rafters of the TD Garden. The deafening explosions were instantly swallowed by the absolute, guttural roar of eighteen thousand passionate, vocal wrestling fans.
The camera dynamically swept across the sold-out arena, capturing a massive sea of humanity. Fans were on their feet, waving thousands of homemade signs, completely lost in the electric atmosphere of one of the "Big Four" pay per views of the year.
The sweeping shot finally settled on the ringside commentary table, positioned perfectly near the entrance ramp.
Cole, Lawler, Striker, and JBL sat shoulder to shoulder, their headsets firmly on, practically having to scream into their microphones just to hear themselves over the Boston crowd.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Royal Rumble!" Michael Cole shouted, a massive grin on his face. "We are coming to you live, broadcasting to the entire world from a completely sold out, absolutely electric TD Garden here in Boston, Massachusetts! I am Michael Cole, alongside Jerry Lawler, Matt Striker, and JBL, and gentlemen, we are kicking things off with an absolute blockbuster!"
"We are not wasting a single second, Michael!" Lawler cheered, adjusting his crown. "We are opening this monumental pay per view with the match the entire world has been waiting for! The rematch! The Voice of the Voiceless, CM Punk, goes one on one with the God King, Sandro Zhang, for the World Heavyweight Championship!"
"The stakes have never been higher," Striker added, his voice serious and analytical. "CM Punk survived an absolute war with Chris Jericho just to get to this point. He is battered, his ribs are bruised, but his spirit is unbreakable. If Punk wins tonight, he doesn't just reclaim his gold, he shatters the illusion of Sandro Zhang's invincibility. He ends the Triple Crown Era reign that have terrorized this company."
JBL let out a loud, obnoxious groan, throwing his hands up in the air in sheer disgust.
"You three are absolute morons!" JBL bellowed, his face immediately turning red. "You sound like a bunch of stupid, uneducated peasants! You will never understand the greatness of the God King! CM Punk isn't going to shatter anything! He choked at Tribute to the Troops, and he is going to choke again tonight!"
"John, CM Punk didn't choke, he was attacked by an entire army!" Cole argued fiercely.
"Excuses!" JBL roared. "Sandro Zhang is the greatest champion this industry has ever seen! He is going to retain the World Heavyweight Championship easily, and he is going to walk into WrestleMania as the undisputed ruler of this universe!"
As the commentary team fiercely debated the opening contest, the heavy, aggressive guitar riff of "This Fire Burns" suddenly blasted through the arena sound system.
The Boston crowd absolutely exploded. The pop was deafening, a massive surge of pure, rebellious energy.
CM Punk stepped through the curtain. He wasn't smiling. His face was a mask of cold, intense focus. He was dressed in his signature Chicago flag colored trunks, and his ribs were once again heavily wrapped in thick, white athletic tape.
He was not walking into battle alone.
Flanking him on either side were the imposing figures of Luke Gallows and Joey Mercury. The Straight Edge Society enforcers had not forgotten the brutal attacks they had suffered. Gripped tightly in their hands were the heavy, rusted, barbed wire wrapped baseball bats they had introduced on Monday Night RAW. They looked ready to go to war.
Veteran announcer Tony Chimel stood in the center of the ring, raising his microphone.
"The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the World Heavyweight Championship!" Chimel's voice boomed over the roaring crowd.
"Introducing first... the challenger! Accompanied to the ring by Luke Gallows and Joey Mercury... representing the Straight Edge Society... from Chicago, Illinois... weighing in at 222 pounds... he is the Voice of the Voiceless... C... M... PUUUUUNK!"
Punk and his faction marched purposefully down the long steel ramp. Punk slid under the bottom rope, instantly scaling the turnbuckle and screaming "BEST IN THE WORLD!" to the roaring Boston faithful. He hopped down, pacing the ring, while Gallows and Mercury strategically positioned themselves on the outside floor, gripping their barbed wire bats, creating a defensive perimeter around the squared circle.
The heavy metal music faded out, leaving the arena in a state of tense, buzzing anticipation.
Then, the static hit.
The gritty, iconic opening riff of "Cult of Personality" blared through the speakers.
The TD Garden instantly transitioned from cheers into a massive, deafening, hostile wall of pure hatred. The boos were so loud they physically vibrated the commentary desk.
The entrance stage was flooded in blinding, opulent golden light.
The God King emerged.
Sandro Zhang stepped through the curtain, the visual definition of absolute, untouchable arrogance. He wore his custom tailored, luxurious black suit with subtle gold pinstripes. The ornate black King of the Ring crown rested perfectly upon his head, and the heavy, opulent wolf fur coat was draped majestically over his broad shoulders.
But it was the sheer volume of championship gold that truly silenced the building.
Strapped securely around his waist was the World Heavyweight Championship. Resting on his left shoulder was the United States Championship. Resting on his right shoulder was the WWE Championship.
But he wasn't alone tonight. The entire empire had come to watch the execution.
Following closely behind the Triple Crown Champion was the entire, impenetrable fortress of the Undisputed System. Paul Heyman waddled out first, a manic, sycophantic grin on his face. He was followed by the queens of the empire, AJ Lee, holding her Divas Championship high, alongside Nikki Bella and Alexa Bliss.
And forming an impenetrable, terrifying wall of muscle at the rear were the enforcers. The World Tag Team Champions Big E and Ryback, the WWE Tag Team Champions Wade Barrett and Drew McIntyre, the Intercontinental Champion Kofi Kingston, Dolph Ziggler, and Xavier Woods. The entire Undisputed System was present, draped in their respective gold, ready to ensure the Triple Crown remained unbroken.
It was a staggering, sickening display of monopolized power. There's seven champions, draped in nearly every single championship the company had to offer.
Sandro stopped at the absolute edge of the entrance stage. He didn't look at the crowd. He looked directly down the ramp at CM Punk. Sandro slowly raised his arms wide, a dark, calculating smirk spreading across his face.
BOOM!
A massive, towering wall of golden pyrotechnics erupted from the stage behind him, bathing the entire faction in a brilliant shower of sparks.
Sandro lowered his arms and began his slow, methodical march down the steel ramp, his massive army following in perfect, synchronized formation.
"Introducing the champion!" Chimel announced, fighting to be heard over the deafening boos. "Representing the Undisputed System... accompanied to the ring by Paul Heyman, AJ Lee, Nikki Bella, Alexa Bliss, Big E, Ryback, Wade Barrett, Drew McIntyre, Kofi Kingston, Dolph Ziggler, and Xavier Woods... from Orlando, Florida... weighing in at 230 pounds... he is the United States Champion, the WWE Champion, and the defending World Heavyweight Champion... the GOD KING OF WWE... SANDROOO ZHAANGGGG!"
Sandro walked up the steel ring steps, wiping his boots on the apron before stepping through the ropes. He entered the ring entirely alone, while the massive ranks of the Undisputed System fanned out across the ringside area, surrounding the ring in a terrifying golden barricade.
Gallows and Mercury immediately raised their barbed wire bats, establishing a tense, silent standoff with Big E and Ryback on the floor.
Inside the ring, Sandro casually handed the WWE and United States Championships through the ropes to Alexa and Nikki. He then unbuckled the World Heavyweight Championship from his waist, holding it up, staring at it for a brief moment, before handing it to the referee.
The official took the Big Gold Belt, stepping between the two competitors. He showed the title to CM Punk, who glared at it with absolute hunger. He showed it to Sandro, who simply smirked.
The referee then walked to the dead center of the ring, holding the prestigious championship high above his head, presenting it to the eighteen thousand fans in Boston, confirming the massive stakes of the contest.
He handed the title out to the timekeeper. He looked at Punk. He looked at Sandro. Both men nodded.
The referee signaled the timekeeper.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The World Heavyweight Championship rematch was officially underway. The Boston crowd erupted into a massive, dueling chant of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" mixed with a heavy, rhythmic chorus of "SANDRO SUCKS! SANDRO SUCKS!"
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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