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Hearing that, Sandro was surprised but also not entirely shocked. He knew it was only a matter of time, especially after Beer Money Inc.'s public challenge. This was the logical next step, a confirmation that his "Forbidden Door" idea was being implemented by Dusty and Steve.
Feigning shock, he turned to April. "Hey, check Twitter real quick. Nikki says there's some major news."
April, already lounging beside him with her iPhone in hand, quickly navigated to the trending tab. As soon as she saw the announcement, her eyes widened. "Holy crap, she's right! FCW and TNA just made it official! Look at this, both of their Twitter account have posted it!"
Sandro leaned over and grinned as he saw the announcement post from FCW's official account. "History in the making..."
April let out a squeal of excitement, her mind already racing with the potential matchups. "Babe, do you really not know about this? You usually know everything, and Dusty and Steve sometimes invite you to those secret conversations."
Nikki, still on the line, chimed in. "Yeah! You knew about War Games before anyone else. You knew about the FCW Divas Championship before it was even approved. Are you seriously telling us you had no clue about this?"
Sandro chuckled, enjoying the fact that for once, something in FCW had happened without his direct involvement. "I swear, I didn't know about this one. I had my suspicions, but this is the first time I've seen it just like you two."
April and Nikki even though separated through large distance and connected through a phone call, exchanged a skeptical silence, but ultimately, they let it go.
As the days passed, the discussion only intensified. Fans debated dream matches on the internet especially Twitter, fantasy booking inter promotional feuds, while wrestling journalists analyzed the potential business implications.
Former WWE, WCW, and ECW veterans, legends, and hall of famers chimed in, offering their takes on how this could reshape the industry. Some praised the deal as revolutionary, while others were skeptical, questioning whether two competing brands could truly coexist in such an arrangement.
The wrestling world was buzzing.
Monday then arrived, and anticipation for the night's FCW event was through the roof. Sandro sat in the locker room with Big E, both already dressed in their ring gear, waiting for the show to start. The opening match featured Jon Moxley versus Tyler Black, who was sure to put on a barn burner with the rivalry they have.
Big E, shifting in his seat, let out a deep breath. "Man, I'm nervous as hell."
Sandro smirked, slapping a hand on his friend's broad shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just go out there and do what you do best. Make them believe."
Big E nodded, though he still looked uneasy. This was his debut, after all. It was a big moment. Tonight, he would be officially introduced as Sandro's enforcer, a bodyguard who could watch his back in the growing war with The Wyatt Family.
"I just don't wanna mess up, you know?" Big E admitted. "I've worked very hard for this shot. I can't afford to blow it and mess it up, not just for me, but for you and everyone involved as well."
Sandro's expression turned serious. "Listen to me. Dusty believes in you. Steve believes in you. Hell, I believe in you. You've got this, man. Trust me. When you step out there, the crowd will feel your presence. All you have to do is own it."
Big E took a deep breath, his nerves slowly settling. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."
Meanwhile, in the arena, the show started with a bang as Tyler Black's entrance music hit. The fans rained down boos, but Tyler, as always, soaked it in, occasionally taunting them as he made his way down the ramp. He climbed the steel steps, stepped into the ring, and brushed off the hostility, his focus solely on the upcoming battle.
But then the crowd erupted in cheers.
Jon Moxley was making his way through the audience, a wild, unpredictable force. He stormed down the steps, his eyes locked on Tyler, and before the referee could even react, Moxley slid into the ring and blindsided Tyler with a vicious attack.
The official tried to intervene, but Moxley wasn't stopping. He rained down brutal punches, each one fueled by the betrayal he felt from Tyler. Finally, the referee, realizing that there was no controlling this, called for the bell to officially start the match.
Tyler, ever the opportunist, managed to roll under the bottom rope to escape the onslaught. Moxley wasn't having it. He followed, leaping out of the ring and tackling Tyler into the barricade, unleashing more furious strikes.
The match quickly devolved into a war. The referee constantly threatened disqualification as both men used every dirty trick in the book. Tyler, realizing that Moxley was too wild to be out brawled, started targeting his opponent's knee, weakening his base and slowing him down.
As the match progressed, Moxley's rage blinded him. He swung wildly, missing key strikes, and Tyler took full advantage. Seizing an opening, he hit Moxley with Paroxysm, the impact rattling the ring. Not wasting a second, he ascended the top turnbuckle and soared through the air, nailing the Phoenix Splash.
One. Two. Three.
The bell rang. The crowd jeered as Tyler stood victorious, his smirk widening. But he wasn't done.
As Moxley struggled on the mat, Tyler, his opportunistic mind working, prepared to add insult to injury. He loomed over his fallen rival, fists clenched, ready to launch a post match beatdown to further cement his dominance.
But the referee intervened, physically stepping between them. Tyler argued with him, his voice filled with frustration, and his back turned to Moxley.
Big mistake.
Summoning the last of his strength, Moxley pushed himself up using the ropes and then delivered a swift, decisive low blow. Tyler crumpled, the pain evident on his face.
The crowd roared.
Moxley wasn't finished. He grabbed Tyler by the head and, with a primal yell, delivered Moxicity, driving his foe face first into the canvas.
The audience exploded in cheers as Moxley, battered but victorious in spirit, stood over Tyler, breathing heavily. The message was clear, this war was far from over.
As security rushed to the ring to separate the two, the commentary team went wild, hyping up the intense rivalry between them. This was just the beginning of what would surely become one of the most brutal feuds in FCW history.
The crowd was still buzzing from the chaotic aftermath of Jon Moxley and Tyler Black's war. Meanwhile, the show goes on, and then comes the main event, when the arena lights dimmed. The energy shifted, the air thick with anticipation.
Then, the first notes of "Cult of Personality" blasted through the speakers, sending the fans into a frenzy. Sandro stepped out onto the stage, the FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship draped over his shoulder. He stood tall, exuding confidence as he scanned the audience. The cheers rained down upon him, but there was an undertone of curiosity rippling through the crowd.
Their eyes weren't just on him.
Emerging from behind him was a towering, muscular figure, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. The audience murmured among themselves, wondering who this imposing presence was.
As Sandro and the mystery man made their way down the ramp, the commentators scrambled to address the elephant in the room.
"Who the hell is that with Sandro?!" one of them blurted out.
"I have no idea, but look at the size of the muscle he have on him! Sandro's never needed backup before, this is new!"
Sliding into the ring, Sandro adjusted his title before raising it high above his head. The crowd roared, though their attention flickered between him and the unknown figure standing stoically behind him.
A member of the ring crew handed a microphone to Big E, who then passed it to Sandro. As the cheers began to settle, Sandro brought the mic to his lips.
"Last week…" he began, pausing to let the weight of his words sink in. "Last week, I was brutally attacked by Bray Wyatt and his so called family."
The mere mention of Bray's name drew a chorus of boos from the crowd. Sandro nodded, letting the fans voice their disapproval before continuing.
"And I wasn't the only one. Kofi Kingston and Taylor Rotunda tried to help me, but they paid the price for standing up to them. Thanks to Bray Wyatt and his goons, my friends are out of action. And let me tell you, I'm pissed."
The audience erupted in support, rallying behind Sandro's defiance.
"But…" Sandro exhaled, pacing slightly. "Bray was right about one thing. I can't do this alone. I can't be the champion FCW deserves while also constantly looking over my shoulder. If I want to fight for a fair system in this company, I need backup. I need someone who can watch my back while I focus on being a fighting champion."
He turned, gesturing toward the massive man beside him.
"And that's why I'm making it official. Meet my enforcer, my bodyguard, Big E!"
The crowd erupted in cheers as Big E finally stepped forward, unfolding his arms. The sheer presence of the man sent a clear message, Sandro wasn't going to be outmuscled anymore.
The excitement was short-lived.
The titantron flickered to life, cutting through the cheers with an eerie sequence of images, a dense, shadowed forest, twisted trees swaying in the wind.
Static crackled across the screen, breaking up glimpses of Bray Wyatt, his bearded face half hidden by flickering darkness. Behind him, two looming figures, Erick Rowan and Luke Harper, stood like ominous sentries.
Then, Bray stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto the camera.
"We're here."
With those words, he blew out the lantern he was holding, plunging the screen into darkness.
A moment later, the arena lights dimmed, and the unsettling melody of Bray Wyatt's entrance music filled the space. The crowd, sensing the imminent chaos, buzzed with nervous energy.
Emerging from the darkness, Bray walked forward, lantern in hand, his signature eerie grin plastered on his face. Erick Rowan and Luke Harper flanked him, their imposing figures adding to the sense of dread that accompanied their arrival. They stopped at the foot of the ramp, Bray lifting the microphone in his left hand as he let out a slow, unsettling chuckle.
"Oh, Sandro…" he crooned, rocking back and forth. "You really think one man—one lonely, desperate soul—is enough to protect you from me and my family?"
The crowd booed loudly, but Bray merely smiled, unbothered by their disdain.
"You live in such a… sheltered world. A world where you believe strength comes from numbers. Where you believe that rules can keep you safe. But you haven't learned your lesson yet, have you?"
His expression darkened, his tone shifting from playful to menacing.
"Let me in, Sandro… and you'll finally understand that what you're doing is futile. You can't fight fate. You can't stop what's already begun."
Sandro, unimpressed, lifted his mic, his voice steady. "Bray, let me make something very clear. I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of your so-called family. And if you think for one second that I'm just going to let you run roughshod over FCW, you're dead wrong."
Bray chuckled again, shaking his head as if Sandro's words amused him. "Oh, Sandro… You keep talking like you have a choice. But words won't save you."
His grin widened. "Actions will."
With that, he slowly extended his hand, giving the signal.
Luke Harper and Erick Rowan lunged forward, charging toward the ring.
But they didn't make it far.
Big E exploded into action, leaping down from the ring with shocking agility. As Harper reached him first, Big E drove a massive shoulder into his gut, sending him crashing into the barricade. Before Rowan could react, Big E turned and launched a brutal clothesline that sent the bigger man sprawling to the floor.
The crowd erupted.
Bray, still standing at the foot of the ramp, watched with an amused smirk as his followers struggled to recover. Sandro, standing on the ropes, pointed directly at him. "You wanted to make a statement, Bray? Consider this mine!" Big E entered back into the ring, cracked his knuckles, and stood tall beside Sandro. The message was clear.
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 19 (2009)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA
Brand: FCW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style
Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions & 1 FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion