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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
A squad of yellow shirted arena security guards rushed down the hallway, blowing their whistles and attempting to break up the assault. But the Nexus was a well oiled machine of destruction.
Mason Ryan simply bulldozed through the security line, throwing guards into the concrete walls like ragdolls. Ryback caught a security guard by the throat and tossed him effortlessly into a nearby catering table.
With the security neutralized, the Nexus returned their attention to Punk, raining down heavy boots on the defenseless superstar. The live audience showered the TitanTron with deafening, hateful boos.
"This is cowardly!" JBL roared, thoroughly disgusted by the backstage tactics. "They wait until he puts the weapon down, and then they jump him from behind! Where is the locker room?!"
Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed down the adjacent hallway.
Charging around the corner, armed with steel folding chairs and pure fury, was the SmackDown locker room. Edge, Christian, Ezekiel Jackson, and the towering Kane sprinted toward the brawl, looking ready to commit absolute murder.
Wade Barrett saw the incoming cavalry. The Nexus leader threw a final, stiff kick into CM Punk's ribs before raising his hands, signaling for a retreat.
Barrett didn't look scared. As he backed away, a cold, deeply satisfied smile spread across his face. He looked at Edge and Kane, tapping his temple. The message was clear. We strike when we want, where we want.
Rather than risk an even fight against armed, furious veterans, the Nexus quickly filed through a heavy exit door, disappearing into the humid Mississippi night.
Edge dropped to his knees, checking on a battered CM Punk as Kane stood guard over the hallway. The broadcast cut back to the arena, leaving a heavy, unsettled feeling hanging over the final thirty minutes of the show.
The main event of the evening was a heavily anticipated clash. Kane was scheduled to defend the Intercontinental Championship against a man who had recently been drafted to the blue brand, the arrogant, opportunistic Miz.
But before the combatants could make their entrances, SmackDown General Manager Teddy Long marched out onto the stage, a microphone in hand and a furious expression on his face.
"Hold on a minute, playas!" Teddy Long shouted over the murmuring crowd. "I have watched this Nexus completely tear my show apart tonight! I have watched them ruin matches, and I have watched them ambush my superstars in the back! Well, it stops right here, and it stops right now!"
Teddy Long pointed a stern finger at the ring.
"For this main event, I am issuing a strict, non negotiable ruling," Teddy declared. "The entire SmackDown locker room is going to surround that ring! You will act as a human barricade to ensure that the Nexus cannot interfere in this championship match!"
The crowd cheered, loving the proactive measure.
"However," Teddy warned, lowering his voice into a serious register, "the locker room is absolutely prohibited from interfering in the match themselves! If any SmackDown superstar steps foot on the apron, or lays a hand on Kane or The Miz, you will be heavily fined, the match will be immediately stopped, and it will be declared a draw! Do you feel me?!"
The ruling was brilliant. It created a protective wall around the ring, but maintained the competitive integrity of the championship bout.
The locker room emptied. Edge, Christian, Cryme Tyme, Ezekiel Jackson, and a dozen other superstars marched down the ramp, taking up watchful, highly alert positions around the barricades. They didn't look at the ring, they kept their eyes locked on the crowd and the entrance ramp, waiting for the Nexus.
The bell rang, and the main event officially began.
The match was a masterclass in contrasting styles. Kane was an absolute monster, relying on his terrifying size, raw power, and devastating striking ability. He backed Miz into the corner repeatedly, delivering heavy right hands and suffocating headlocks that threatened to end the match early.
But Miz was nothing if not a brilliant opportunist.
Miz refused to fight the Big Red Monster head on. He used his speed and timing, constantly ducking Kane's heavy blows and rolling out of the ring to force the referee to count. He utilized every cowardly tactic in the book, raking Kane's eyes when the official was checking the turnbuckles, and delivering cheap shots to the back of Kane's knees to chop the giant down to size.
The Missouri crowd was heavily invested, booing Miz's underhanded tactics and cheering every time Kane landed a heavy blow.
Around the fifteen minute mark, Miz found his opening. He managed to dodge a running big boot, causing Kane's leg to get tied up in the top rope. Miz capitalized instantly, delivering a stiff dropkick to Kane's exposed knee, followed by a vicious kneeling DDT.
Miz hooked the leg, desperately grabbing a handful of Kane's tights for leverage.
One!
Two!
Thre—NO!
Kane powered his massive shoulder up just before the referee's hand hit the mat for the third time, throwing Miz completely off of him.
"Miz almost stole it!" Cole yelled, his voice tight with adrenaline. "He is using every trick in the book, but the Big Red Machine refuses to stay down!"
Outside the ring, the SmackDown superstars remained incredibly tense. Edge paced near the announce desk, his eyes darting toward the crowd. Christian and Ezekiel Jackson stood near the timekeeper's area, clearly expecting an ambush at any second. The atmosphere was suffocating.
Then, the inevitable happened.
WEE! WOO! WEE! WOO!
The harsh siren of the Nexus theme music hit the speakers. The arena erupted into absolute bedlam. The boos were deafening.
Wade Barrett marched out onto the stage. But the Nexus wasn't walking down the ramp empty handed.
Ryback was carrying a thick wooden baseball bat. Mason Ryan gripped a heavy steel folding chair. David Otunga and Heath Slater were armed with kendo sticks. Darren Young, Curtis Axel, and Justin Gabriel held heavy lengths of industrial chain.
It was a deliberate, violent escalation.
"They brought weapons!" Lawler screamed, completely abandoning the broadcast desk. "This isn't an invasion anymore; it's a war!"
"Teddy Long's ruling doesn't mean a damn thing if the security can't stop this!" JBL yelled.
The Nexus didn't hesitate. They charged down the ramp, swinging their weapons wildly. The SmackDown superstars didn't back down. Edge grabbed a steel chair from ringside, while Ezekiel Jackson and Shad Gaspard met Ryback and Mason Ryan head on with pure fists.
The ringside area instantly exploded into a massive, uncontrolled brawl.
The fight didn't stay near the barricades. The chaos spread like wildfire. Edge and Otunga brawled up the entrance ramp.
Christian and Slater fought near the steel steps. Cryme Tyme and Axel threw punches over the barricade, the action violently spilling into the front rows of the audience. Fans scrambled in terror as the warring factions tore each other apart.
Inside the ring, Kane was completely distracted.
The Big Red Monster looked out over the top rope, his attention pulled entirely toward the absolute carnage unfolding around his ring. He watched as his locker room was assaulted by armed thugs.
The Miz, however, did not care about the locker room. The Miz only cared about the gold.
As Kane turned his back to the center of the ring, Miz stalked him from behind. With lightning fast precision, Miz grabbed Kane by the arms, hooked his leg, and viciously drove the giant face first into the canvas with the Skull Crushing Finale!
The crowd shrieked in horror.
Miz hooked the massive leg!
One!
Two!
Kane thrust his shoulder up, kicking out purely on monster instinct!
"He kicked out!" Cole screamed over the chaotic noise of the brawl. "Kane survived the Skull Crushing Finale!"
Miz didn't panic. He saw that the referee was still highly distracted, constantly looking over his shoulder at the violence outside the ring. Miz scrambled to his feet, a look of pure, selfish desperation in his eyes.
As Kane slowly pushed himself up to his knees, completely dazed, Miz charged from behind. He locked Kane's arms a second time, swept the leg, and drove the Big Red Monster into the mat with a second, utterly devastating Skull Crushing Finale.
Miz threw his entire body weight over Kane's chest, hooking both legs tightly.
The referee, realizing the match was still legally underway inside the ropes, slid into position and slapped the canvas.
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"THREE!"
DING! DING! DING!
"I don't believe it!" Cole shrieked, his voice raw with disbelief. "The Miz just pinned Kane! The Miz just stole the Intercontinental Championship!"
"He robbed him!" Lawler yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "Kane was completely distracted by the Nexus! The Miz took advantage of a riot to steal the gold!"
"It doesn't matter how he did it, King!" JBL argued, a wide grin spreading across his face. "The referee counted to three! The match was legal! The Miz is the new champion!"
Inside the ring, the referee handed the Intercontinental Championship to The Miz. The arrogant superstar snatched the gold, rolling quickly out of the ring on the far side, clutching the belt to his chest with a look of pure, manic joy on his face.
The broadcast cameras zoomed out, capturing a surreal, highly chaotic tableau.
The Miz was celebrating wildly on the entrance stage, raising the stolen championship into the air.
Inside the ring, Kane lay completely motionless, having lost his title to a cowardly distraction.
And all around the arena, on the ramp, over the barricades, and deep into the audience seating, the violent, chaotic brawl between the Nexus and the SmackDown locker room continued to rage uncontrollably.
The Nexus had not just established a beachhead, they had completely shattered the stability of Friday Night SmackDown. They had cost the Big Red Machine its Intercontinental Championship, and they had plunged the entire locker room into a state of absolute warfare.
The screen faded to black, leaving the final image of Friday Night SmackDown burned into the minds of the WWE Universe, The Miz celebrating wildly with the stolen Intercontinental Championship, while the entire locker room tore itself apart in a massive, uncontrolled brawl.
Almost instantly, the digital wrestling community exploded.
Twitter timelines moved so fast they were practically unreadable. Wrestling forums crashed under the weight of the traffic.
For weeks, fans had speculated about what the Nexus would do after suffering a humiliating, definitive defeat at the hands of Sandro Zhang on Monday Night RAW. The God King had systematically dismantled their army, beaten their leader cleanly, and defended his throne against impossible odds.
"I called it! I totally called it!" a popular wrestling YouTuber tweeted out. "The Nexus realized they couldn't beat Sandro, so they packed their bags and ran to SmackDown where the waters are less dangerous! It's the smartest thing Wade Barrett has ever done."
However, the sheer level of chaos the Nexus had unleashed in Missouri quickly changed the narrative. They hadn't just shown up to lick their wounds, they had orchestrated a riot that directly resulted in a championship changing hands.
"Say what you want about Barrett running away, but the Nexus just flipped SmackDown completely upside down," a top rated comment on Reddit read. "They took out Edge, Christian, and Kane in one night. They basically handed the IC title to The Miz just by existing. Moving to the blue brand might actually make them more dangerous. Now they have fresh meat, and they can finally start going after the tag titles without Sandro breathing down their necks."
The debate raged online throughout the weekend. Some fans argued that the Nexus was revitalized, a fresh threat on a new brand. Others maintained that Barrett was simply a coward who had been exiled from Monday nights by a superior King.
While the wrestling world debated the shifting balance of power, the God King himself was hundreds of miles away, entirely disconnected from the chaos.
The heavy, humid air of the Florida coast carried the sound of crashing waves and distant seagulls. Sandro was lounging on the expansive wooden deck of a private, ultra-luxurious beach resort owned by his family's conglomerate, Nexum Core. He wore simple swimming trunks and dark sunglasses, a cold drink resting on the small table beside him.
A few yards away, the private stretch of white sand was fully occupied.
AJ Lee, Nikki Bella, and Alexa Bliss were enjoying a rare, well deserved break from the grueling WWE travel schedule. AJ was currently attempting to bury Nikki's legs in the sand, while Alexa laughed, snapping photos on her phone. The three women looked completely relaxed, the stress of the terrifying hostage situation from a week prior entirely washed away by the sun and the ocean breeze.
Sandro watched them for a moment, a genuine, soft smile touching his lips. He loved the wrestling business, but moments like this, quiet, peaceful, and far away from the screaming crowds, were what kept him grounded.
"They seem to be recovering well," a deep, smooth voice noted from the doorway of the beach house.
Sandro turned his head as his father, Jack Zhang, stepped out onto the deck. Jack was dressed casually in linen trousers and a light button down shirt, though he carried a sleek leather tablet folio under his arm.
"They're tough," Sandro replied, motioning for his father to take the empty lounge chair next to him. "They just needed some time out of the locker room. The road can make you paranoid if you don't step away from it every once in a while."
Jack nodded, taking a seat and resting the folio on his lap. He looked out at the ocean for a moment before turning his sharp, calculating eyes back to his son.
"I wanted to bring you up to speed on a few corporate developments while we had some quiet time," Jack began, slipping seamlessly into business mode. "Nexum Core is expanding faster than the two of us have ever thought. Our acquisitions in the tech and other sectors over the last two quarters have put us in a very... visible position."
Sandro took a sip of his drink. "Visible enough to attract the politicians?"
"Exactly," Jack confirmed, tapping his fingers against the leather folio. "The influence we wield right now is significant. It hasn't gone unnoticed in Washington. Yesterday, I received a very polite, but very pointed, phone call from President Obama's re election team."
Sandro raised an eyebrow, though he wasn't entirely surprised. It was the summer of 2011.
"They were inquiring about charitable donations and broad corporate support for his upcoming campaign," Jack explained. "And, interestingly enough, Donald Trump reached out personally this morning. He reminded me of our real estate partnerships in New York and strongly hinted at his own ambitions for the Oval Office."
Sandro leaned back in his chair, staring out at the rolling waves.
Because of the knowledge he carried from his previous life, Sandro already possessed a broad, highly accurate understanding of how American politics would develop over the coming years.
He knew the shifts, the scandals, and the eventual outcomes. It would be incredibly easy to use Nexum Core's massive wealth to radically alter the political timeline, to place bets on guaranteed winners, and to shape the landscape to his exact specifications.
But Sandro had zero desire to play god with the government.
"We don't rock the boat, Dad," Sandro advised smoothly, his tone decisive. "Becoming too directly involved in partisan politics is a quick way to paint a target on our backs. If we start trying to actively install presidents, we become the enemy of half the country, regardless of who wins."
Jack nodded slowly, listening closely. He trusted his son's instincts implicitly.
"We aren't politicians," Sandro continued. "We are businessmen. Our long term strategy shouldn't be to control the Oval Office. Our strategy should be to become so economically vital, so deeply embedded in the infrastructure of this country, that whoever sits in the Oval Office has absolutely no choice but to work with us."
Sandro lowered his sunglasses, looking directly at his father. "Think about the Rockefellers. Think about J.P. Morgan, or the Rothschilds. Presidents come and go every four or eight years. But those families? Their influence outlasts administrations. That is the level Nexum Core needs to operate on. Too big, and too important, to ignore."
A proud smile touched Jack's face. "So, how do you suggest we handle the current inquiries?"
"Keep supporting Obama for now," Sandro reasoned calmly. "Maintaining a strong, positive relationship with the current administration allows us to protect our interests and softly influence policy without causing a massive disruption. A second term gives Nexum Core another four years of stability to expand our market share and solidify our position. Keep Trump happy on the real estate side, but keep the corporate backing strictly establishment."
"Understood," Jack agreed, opening his folio and making a quick note. "I'll handle the political maneuvering. You just focus on keeping those two heavy gold belts on your shoulders."
"That's the plan," Sandro smirked.
The business discussion seamlessly dissolved as Taylor Zhang stepped out onto the deck, carrying a tray of fresh fruit and cold water.
"Alright, enough corporate strategy for one day," Taylor playfully scolded, setting the tray down. "Sandro, go rescue Nikki before AJ completely buries her in the sand." Sandro laughed, pushing himself out of the lounge chair. He spent the rest of the afternoon exactly where he wanted to be, joking around in the surf with his girls, sharing quiet moments with his parents, and letting the brutal reality of professional wrestling fade away for a few precious hours.
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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 (1st - 376 days), 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