If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
______________________________
(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
The golden empire was in the end of the line. His enforcers were gone. And now, the Painmaker was actively, physically dismantling the God King piece by piece in the center of the squared circle. "Do you quit?!" The seventy thousand fans held their breath, waiting to hear if the Triple Crown Era was finally, violently, coming to an end.
Sandro Zhang's eyes were tightly shut, his teeth grinding together so hard they threatened to crack. The steel folding chair was biting viciously into the tendons of his knee, and the unbelievable, spine snapping torque of the modified Walls of Jericho was pulling his lower back completely out of alignment. Every single nerve ending in his body was screaming for mercy.
"Say it! Say it, you son of a bitch!" Jericho roared, leaning back even further, putting every single ounce of his remaining body weight into the devastating submission hold.
"This is it!" Cole shrieked, his voice entirely hoarse. "The God King is going to break! His body cannot physically withstand this level of torture! The empire is falling right here in Atlanta!"
"Ring the damn bell!" JBL begged, completely ignoring the rules of the match. "He's going to paralyze him! Jericho is trying to put the future CEO of Nexum Core in a wheelchair! Do something, ref!"
"He has to say the words, John!" Lawler yelled back, entirely entirely unsympathetic. "Sandro Zhang made this bed, and now he has to lie in it!"
"Ask him again!" Booker T demanded.
The referee pressed the cold steel of the microphone directly against Sandro's bleeding lips.
Sandro's eyes snapped open. They were bloodshot, filled with tears of pure, unadulterated physical agony, but beneath the pain was a terrifying, bottomless well of sociopathic ego. He would literally rather die in the center of the ring than surrender his ultimate prize to a member of the Rebellion.
"NEVER!" Sandro screamed, his voice a guttural, demonic rasp that echoed chillingly through the massive stadium sound system.
"I don't believe it!" Cole gasped. "He refuses to yield!"
Sandro, operating purely on adrenaline and an inhuman pain tolerance, began to drag himself forward. With Jericho's weight pinning him down and the steel chair trapping his legs, it seemed mathematically impossible.
But the Triple Crown Champion dug his fingernails so deeply into the canvas that his cuticles began to bleed. He pulled, inching his agonizingly contorted body toward the ropes.
"Look at the sheer, terrifying willpower of the champion!" JBL praised, literal tears of relief in his eyes. "He is immortal! You cannot break the spirit of the God King!"
Jericho, realizing Sandro was nearing the ropes, tried to pull him back to the center of the ring. But as Jericho adjusted his grip, Sandro violently kicked his free, un trapped left leg backward! The heavy heel of Sandro's wrestling boot caught Jericho perfectly on the side of the head!
The Painmaker's grip loosened for just a fraction of a second. It was all the absolute prodigy needed. Sandro violently twisted his hips, ignoring the blinding pain in his knee, and kicked the steel chair completely off his leg,
Jericho stumbled backward.
Sandro rolled onto his stomach, gasping frantically for air, clutching his lower back as the seventy thousand fans groaned in collective disappointment.
"He escaped!" Lawler said, shaking his head. "I thought that was it. I thought the Triple Crown Era was over."
"You don't understand the psychological makeup of this man!" JBL yelled proudly. "He is a billionaire savant! He will not quit!"
Both men slowly, painfully used the ropes to pull themselves up to a vertical base. The match had long ago transcended a mere athletic contest, it was a pure, unadulterated street fight for survival.
Jericho charged forward, looking to capitalize on Sandro's injured leg. He threw a wild, looping right hand. But Sandro, favoring his bad knee, flawlessly utilized his elite martial arts background. He slipped inside the punch, grabbing Jericho's arm, and delivered a blistering, rapid fire sequence of sharp elbows directly to the Painmaker's collarbone.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Jericho staggered backward. Sandro pressed the advantage, hopping on his good leg, and executed a beautiful, highly technical spinning back kick that caught Jericho squarely in the sternum, completely knocking the wind out of the veteran's lungs.
"Sandro Zhang is fighting on one leg, but his striking is still absolutely lethal!" Cole noted.
Sandro grabbed Jericho by the hair, dragging him toward the nearest corner. The God King violently slammed Jericho's face into the top turnbuckle pad once, twice, three times!
Sandro hoisted Jericho up, placing the veteran on the top rope. Sandro climbed up the turnbuckles, balancing precariously on the middle rope, hooking Jericho's arm over his head.
"He's looking for a superplex!" Booker T yelled. "But look at the canvas, man!"
Directly below them in the ring lay the tangled wreckage of the steel folding chairs and the broken kendo sticks that had been introduced earlier.
"Sandro is going to throw him directly onto that pile of steel!" Cole shrieked in panic.
But Chris Jericho was a master of his craft. As Sandro tried to hoist him into the air, Jericho blocked it, dropping his center of gravity. Jericho unleashed a heavy, desperate right hand to Sandro's bruised ribs. Then another. Then a brutal headbutt that sent a shockwave through Sandro's skull!
Sandro completely lost his balance!
He fell backward off the middle turnbuckle, crashing violently back first onto the pile of steel folding chairs below!
CRASH!
Sandro's body contorted sickeningly over the unforgiving metal edges. The God King writhed on the mat, clutching his spine, his face entirely twisted in pain.
"WHAT A COUNTER BY JERICHO!" Lawler cheered at the top of his lungs! "SANDRO JUST BROKE HIS OWN BACK!"
Jericho didn't hesitate. He stood tall on the top rope, looking out at the massive sea of seventy thousand screaming fans. The Painmaker pointed to the sky, a chaotic smile on his painted face.
Jericho launched himself high into the Atlanta air, executing a breathtaking, picture perfect Lionsault directly onto the God King, crushing Sandro's body between Jericho's weight and the steel chairs!
The impact was catastrophic!
The referee immediately dove into the wreckage, shoving the microphone directly into Sandro's gasping face.
"Sandro! Do you quit?!"
Sandro's eyes were completely unfocused. He coughed violently. But instead of saying the words, Sandro Zhang looked directly at the referee and spat a thick glob of blood and saliva directly onto the official's shirt!
"No!" Sandro hissed, his voice barely a whisper.
"He just spat at the referee!" Booker T yelled in absolute disbelief. "The sheer disrespect! The absolute arrogance of this man!"
"It's defiance, Booker!" JBL corrected wildly. "He is letting everyone know that he is still the undisputed master of this ring!"
Jericho, entirely frustrated by the God King's impossible resilience, dragged Sandro out of the pile of chairs. The Painmaker hauled Sandro up to his feet, grabbing him by the throat. Jericho backed Sandro into the corner and began ruthlessly tearing at the protective padding of the top turnbuckle.
"Jericho is exposing the steel!" Cole yelled. "He's removing the turnbuckle pad!"
With a violent yank, Jericho ripped the pad completely off, exposing the heavy, solid steel ring connector underneath. Jericho grabbed Sandro by the back of the head, looking to smash the God King's skull directly into the unforgiving metal!
But Sandro blocked it! Putting his hands up, Sandro stopped his face just an inch from the exposed steel. With a sudden burst of desperate, explosive energy, Sandro threw a heavy back elbow that caught Jericho in the jaw.
Sandro quickly spun around, grabbing Jericho by the tights, and with a terrifying display of raw power, Sandro threw Jericho face first into the exposed steel turnbuckle!
CLANG!
Jericho's head bounced off the metal with a sickening sound. The Painmaker staggered backward, completely out on his feet, stumbling blindly toward the center of the ring.
Sandro hit the ropes, accelerating to maximum velocity, and launched himself into the air, looking for a devastating flying forearm smash.
But as Sandro flew through the air, Chris Jericho miraculously spun around! With flawless, instinctive timing, Jericho launched his arm outward, completely intercepting Sandro in mid-air with a catastrophic, terrifyingly precise Judas Effect spinning back elbow!
The point of Jericho's elbow connected perfectly with the absolute dead center of Sandro Zhang's jaw!
The sound cracked through the massive stadium like a gunshot. Sandro's entire body was completely short circuited. He dropped out of the air like a stone, crashing in a heap on the canvas, entirely unmoving.
"JUDAS EFFECT! JUDAS EFFECT OUT OF NOWHERE!" Cole screamed, completely losing his mind and standing up at the remnants of the announce desk! "HE HIT IT! THE PAINMAKER JUST DECAPITATED THE GOD KING!"
"It's over!" Lawler yelled. "Sandro Zhang is out cold! He's completely unconscious!"
"NO! NO! NO!" JBL wailed, pulling his hair in absolute panic. "Sandro! Wake up, Sandro!"
The referee dropped to his knees, pressing the microphone to Sandro's lips. The Triple Crown Champion was entirely unresponsive. His eyes were closed, his breathing incredibly shallow.
"Sandro! If you do not answer, I have to call the match!" the referee yelled into the microphone, warning the champion. "Do you quit?!"
The seventy thousand fans in the Georgia Dome were dead silent, waiting for the official to wave off the match and declare Chris Jericho the new WWE Champion.
Slowly, agonizingly, Sandro Zhang's hand twitched. He blindly reached out, his fingers weakly grabbing the referee's shirt collar. Sandro pulled the official closer, his eyes fluttering open to reveal a gaze of absolute, chilling emptiness.
"I... will never... quit," Sandro gurgled into the microphone, his voice slurred but his intent terrifyingly clear.
"I don't believe this!" Booker T shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "He is barely conscious, but his ego will literally not allow him to lose!"
Jericho looked down at Sandro in sheer, unadulterated disbelief. He ran his hands through his sweat soaked hair, the face paint completely smeared across his face. He realized that conventional finishing moves, no matter how devastating, were not going to put the God King away. He needed to completely and utterly destroy him.
Jericho rolled out of the ring. He marched over to the timekeeper's area, shoving the personnel aside. He grabbed the heavy, solid steel ring bell!
"Oh my God," Cole whispered. "Jericho has the ring bell. He's going to cave his head in."
"He has to do it, Michael!" Lawler argued. "It's the only way!"
Jericho slid back into the ring, gripping the heavy steel bell in his hand. He stalked the slowly stirring Triple Crown Champion. Sandro was pushing himself up to his hands and knees, entirely unaware of the lethal weapon waiting for him.
Jericho raised the steel bell high into the air, letting out a primal scream!
He swung it downward with homicidal intent!
But Sandro Zhang, operating on the absolute highest, most elite level of in ring awareness, sensed the incoming strike. Sandro violently rolled to his left!
The heavy steel bell crashed uselessly into the canvas, entirely missing Sandro's skull!
The momentum of the missed swing pulled Jericho forward. Before the Painmaker could recover, Sandro popped up to his feet, ignoring the blinding pain in his body. Sandro delivered a devastating, lightning fast superkick directly to Jericho's midsection, forcing the veteran to double over in pain!
Sandro Zhang looked out at the completely shocked crowd. A dark, terrifying, entirely sociopathic fire ignited in his eyes. He wasn't just going to beat Chris Jericho, he was going to make an example out of him. He was going to show the entire professional wrestling world what happens when you push the God King to his absolute limits.
Sandro sprinted toward the corner, leaping onto the middle rope with breathtaking, feline agility!
He completely disregarded his exhaustion. In one fluid, utterly spectacular, and absolutely catastrophic motion, Sandro launched himself backward into the air, executing the true, ultimate variation of his signature maneuver!
"HEAVENSFALL!" JBL screamed at the top of his lungs in pure, unadulterated ecstasy!
Sandro executed a flawless, mid air springboard backflip!
As he rotated gracefully over Jericho's bent body, Sandro reached out, perfectly catching Jericho in a three quarter facelock in mid air, and violently drove the Painmaker's face directly into the canvas with an earth shattering, aerial springboard backflip cutter!
The impact of the Heavensfall was absolutely sickening.
Jericho's body bounced off the mat, entirely lifeless.
"WHAT A MOVE!" Cole shrieked, absolutely mesmerized by the sheer athletic perfection of the God King. "A SPRINGBOARD BACKFLIP CUTTER! THE GOD KING CALLS IT THE HEAVENSFALL! AND HE JUST HIT IT TO PERFECTION!"
"That's why he is the champion!" JBL cheered wildly. "Nobody on God's green earth can do what Sandro Zhang just did!"
The referee rushed over, shoving the microphone into Jericho's face.
"Jericho! Do you quit?!"
Jericho, completely dazed, his face planted into the mat, weakly shook his head. "No..." he murmured into the mic.
Sandro Zhang slowly rose to his feet. He looked down at the broken, defiant Painmaker. Sandro did not look angry anymore. He looked entirely, terrifyingly empty. The sociopathic switch had been flipped.
Sandro walked to the corner. He began slowly stomping his foot on the canvas, the rhythmic, heavy thuds echoing through the silent stadium. He was setting up for his ultimate, lethal finishing strike, The Last Note.
"He's loading it up," Booker T said, a sense of dread filling his voice. "The Last Note is coming. It's an absolute death sentence."
Sandro waited for Jericho to slowly, agonizingly push himself up to his hands and knees. The veteran was entirely defenseless, trying desperately to find his bearings.
Sandro charged forward with terrifying speed! He launched his elbow forward, driving it with catastrophic, bone crushing force directly into the back of Chris Jericho's head!
CRACK!
The first Last Note connected perfectly. Jericho collapsed completely flat onto the canvas.
"Oh my God!" Lawler yelled. "He just kicked his head entirely off his shoulders!"
The referee dove in. "Do you quit?!"
Jericho, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, let out a weak, barely audible groan. "No..."
Sandro's face remained a mask of cold, calculating cruelty. One was not enough.
Sandro reached down, grabbing Jericho by his long, sweat soaked hair. The God King violently dragged Jericho back up to his hands and knees, entirely forcing the veteran into position.
Sandro took three steps back. He charged again!
This time, Sandro drove the lethal running elbow strike directly into the absolute base of Jericho's neck, right at the cervical spine!
CRACK!
The second Last Note was even more devastating than the first. Jericho's body folded in half, his face smashing into the mat.
"Stop the match!" Cole screamed, genuine horror in his voice! "For the love of God, stop the match! He's going to paralyze him! He is actively trying to break his neck!"
"It's an I Quit match, Michael!" JBL roared, absolutely reveling in the violence. "There are no stoppages! You have to make him say the words! Hit him again, Sandro! End his career!"
The referee, looking completely terrified of the God King, reluctantly shoved the microphone near Jericho's mouth.
"Chris... please... do you quit?!"
There was no answer. Chris Jericho simply let out a wet, gurgling sound, a mixture of blood and saliva spilling from his lips onto the canvas. He couldn't speak. He was completely, entirely incapacitated.
But Sandro Zhang was a perfectionist. He wanted absolute, undeniable finality.
Sandro walked over to Jericho's lifeless body. The Triple Crown Champion reached down, hooking Jericho under the arms, and violently hauled the completely unconscious veteran all the way up to his feet. Sandro held Jericho up by his throat, forcing the Painmaker to look at him. Jericho's eyes were entirely glassy, completely devoid of consciousness.
Sandro let go of Jericho's throat, letting the veteran's dead weight begin to fall forward.
Sandro took one step back, loading up his knee for the final time.
With an absolute, unmitigated display of sheer, homicidal violence, Sandro Zhang executed the third and final Last Note, driving his elbow straight up, flush into the absolute dead center of Chris Jericho's face!
The sickening crunch of cartilage and bone echoed through the Georgia Dome.
Jericho's body was thrown backward, crashing heavily onto the canvas, entirely and utterly destroyed.
"NO!" Cole shrieked, completely sickened by the display. "THAT WAS ENTIRELY UNNECESSARY! HE WAS ALREADY UNCONSCIOUS!"
"That is a message!" JBL cheered, standing on his chair! "That is a message to every single member of the locker room Rebellion! You do not cross the God King!"
Sandro Zhang stood perfectly still in the center of the ring, his chest heaving, his eyes entirely blank as he looked down at the masterpiece of destruction he had just created.
The referee scrambled over to Chris Jericho. He didn't even bother putting the microphone to his face. The official grabbed Jericho's arm, lifting it into the air. He let it drop. It fell like a stone.
He lifted it a second time. It fell completely limp.
He lifted it a third time. It crashed into the canvas.
Chris Jericho was completely incapable of speaking. He was entirely unconscious, unresponsive, and medically compromised. He couldn't say "I Quit," because Sandro Zhang had literally beaten the ability to speak completely out of him.
The referee looked up at Sandro in absolute terror, then turned to the timekeeper, frantically crossing his arms in an "X" and waving for the bell!
DING! DING! DING!
The heavy, arrogant, triumphant bass drop of "SHOCK THE SYSTEM" immediately blasted through the massive stadium sound system, entirely drowning out the stunned, horrified silence of the seventy thousand fans in Atlanta!
"Ring the bell!" Cole announced, his voice completely completely drained of energy. "The referee has officially stopped the match! Chris Jericho cannot continue! Chris Jericho cannot speak! Sandro Zhang... the God King... has retained the WWE Championship."
"It was an absolute massacre at the end," Lawler whispered, shaking his head in sheer disbelief. "Jericho fought with the heart of a lion, but Sandro Zhang is an entirely different species of monster. He hit the Heavensfall, and then he hit the Last Note not once, not twice, but three devastating times. He systematically executed the Painmaker."
"All hail the God King!" JBL roared over the broadcast, completely euphoric. "He did it! The Undisputed System may have lost some gold tonight, but the head of the snake is completely untouchable! Sandro Zhang just proved that he is the absolute greatest professional wrestler walking the face of the earth! The Triple Crown Era lives on!"
Inside the ring, the scene was a stark, chilling contrast to the rest of the evening. There was no massive celebration. There were no enforcers lifting the God King onto their shoulders. Wade Barrett, Drew McIntyre, Kofi Kingston, Big E, and Ryback had all failed and been exiled. The empire was entirely in ruins.
But Sandro Zhang did not care.
The referee, trembling slightly, approached the Triple Crown Champion, carefully handing him the WWE Championship, the World Heavyweight Championship, and the United States Championship.
Sandro Zhang took his gold. He draped the United States title over his left shoulder. He draped the World Heavyweight title over his right shoulder. He strapped the WWE Championship securely around his waist.
Sandro stepped over the broken, unconscious body of Chris Jericho as the WWE medical staff rushed into the ring with a backboard and a stretcher. The God King ignored them entirely.
Sandro Zhang walked to the corner of the ring, climbing the turnbuckles. He stood high above the seventy thousand fans in the Georgia Dome, raising his arms into the air, presenting his three championships to the world as massive, golden pyrotechnics exploded into the Atlanta night sky.
"Look at him," Booker T said softly, an undeniable respect mixing with his disgust. "He is standing completely alone. His faction is gone. His friends are gone. But he still has the gold. He survived WrestleMania."
"He is the Triple Crown Champion," Cole concluded as the broadcast prepared to fade to black. "Sandro Zhang has successfully defended his throne in the most brutal, unforgiving main event in recent history. The locker room Rebellion gave him their absolute best shot tonight. They broke his empire. But they could not break the God King. And as WrestleMania concludes here in Atlanta, one terrifying question remains... who on earth can possibly stop Sandro Zhang?"
_______________________________
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: 2 - 0 | Main Event: 1 - 0