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Stephanie added, "He's a future main eventer and even the next big thing. I'm not going to dance around it. We trust his instincts, and we trust Sandro's ability. He's not a flash in the pan debut. This is someone we want to cultivate." Vince sat back, rubbing his chin as murmurs filled the room. He was listening, processing.
That's when the pushback started.
Bruce Prichard cleared his throat. "I have to respectfully disagree. Putting Sandro on RAW immediately sends the wrong message. He's fresh. The WWE universe is still learning who he is. On SmackDown, we could take our time, build him up properly. Let the audience really get to know him without the overwhelming spotlight of RAW."
Laurinaitis nodded. "No offense to Sandro at all. Great debut, really. But SmackDown is the better spot for new talent. Always has been. It gives us room to build without the pressure of carrying the flagship show every Monday."
Michael Hayes added, "Plus, the cross brand narrative is still possible. If we want him to feud with Shawn, we can do that across brands. Doesn't have to be tied to RAW permanently. Let's not overreact to one good showing."
The conversation turned from debate into an ideological tug of war. Sandro sat quietly, watching it unfold like a chess match. He wasn't surprised. This wasn't really about him. It was about influence.
RAW meant power. RAW meant spotlight. And RAW meant Vince McMahon had the final say in a talent's creative direction.
SmackDown, meanwhile, was where certain veterans in the company's inner circle still pulled the strings, and Vince let it happen. They saw Sandro's success as something they could mold differently, maybe even tone down. He knew the game. He'd played it in other companies, but this was the highest stage now.
And yet, he remained quiet. Calm. Until Vince raised a hand and silenced the room.
"I've heard enough," Vince said. His voice was low, but it commanded every ounce of attention. "This isn't about which brand has more room or which team gets more say. This is about momentum. About business. And right now, RAW is hot with attention from the audience. At the Royal Rumble, Sandro and Shawn have told a story, and that story is unfinished."
He looked directly at Sandro.
"You're going to RAW."
A mix of reactions rippled across the room. Prichard sighed. Hayes leaned back. Laurinaitis folded his arms with a grunt. But Stephanie and Triple H smiled, nodding in approval.
"And I want you front and center on RAW tomorrow night. We open the show with you. Promo. Address the Rumble, address Shawn, address the fight. Set the tone. I want the audience glued to the screen. You brought eyes to the product. Now keep them there."
Paul Heyman smirked. "That's how you print money."
Sandro offered a firm nod. "Understood sir. I'll make it count."
Vince leaned forward. "One more thing. No fluff. No safe promos. Don't play the company man. Speak like you did in the ring before you were here in WWE. Unfiltered. If you want to talk about betrayal, do it. If you want to threaten Shawn Michaels, go ahead. But mean it. I want to see how capable you are and how the audience reacts."
Sandro's jaw tensed. "I will."
Triple H stood up, clapping his hands together. "Good. Then that's settled. Tomorrow night, we start building toward something big."
Stephanie added, "And let's not forget, Elimination Chamber's around the corner. We're not wasting time. This is the road to WrestleMania. Let's use every mile of it."
As the meeting broke up, the room slowly emptied, murmurs and scattered conversations trailing behind. Sandro remained seated for a moment longer, thinking, internalizing the decision, the weight of the opportunity, and the resistance he'd already felt.
It wasn't just a battle in the ring. It never was.
Then the next day, at noon in Orlando, preparations for Monday Night RAW were already underway. The arena was buzzing with anticipation.
The production crew ran through camera tests, the stage crew polished up the ring, and rehearsals for various segments were underway.
But the opening segment was locked in. No changes. No scripts handed to the talent. Vince wanted it real.
And that's exactly what the world would get tonight.
So when the show started, the RAW intro package rolled in. And then after it's finished, the Pyro exploded. The crowd was white hot. Signs flooded the air with phrases like "SANDRO SHOCKED THE WORLD," "HBK DESERVED BETTER," and even "HEEL KINGS UNITE!"
Michael Cole's voice cut in.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Monday Night RAW, live from Orlando, Florida! We are still reeling from the events of last Saturday's unforgettable Royal Rumble, and tonight... tonight we begin the road to WrestleMania!"
Jerry Lawler was already buzzing before the pyro finished echoing through the arena and after Cole said that, he immediately spoke. "I'm fired up, Cole! You can feel it in the air! After that brawl between Shawn Michaels and Sandro at the Royal Rumble, anything could happen tonight!"
Michael Cole, always playing the smug heel commentator, nodded. "Oh, I completely agree, King. And I'm hoping, no, I'm praying, it's Sandro who kicks off RAW tonight. We need to hear from him. WWE.com confirmed last Saturday via SmackDown GM Theodore Long that the brawl will be addressed tonight. Whether it's Sandro or Shawn who speaks first? Well, we'll find out, but I'm hoping Sandro takes the spotlight."
Lawler didn't miss a beat. "Of course you do. I hope it's Shawn. This whole thing wouldn't have happened if Sandro had kept his word and not stabbed Shawn in the back like that. That was disgraceful, Cole. DISGRACEFUL."
Cole laughed. "Please. That is the Royal Rumble, King. Every man for himself. If Shawn was too naive to realize that, that's on him."
But then, just as the debate between the commentators heated up, the lights in the arena suddenly cut out.
The crowd roared in anticipation.
Then—
The familiar guitar riff echoed throughout the arena.
"CULT OF PERSONALITY" by Living Colour blasted through the speakers, and the arena erupted. Cheers exploded as they saw their downtown hero, but they quickly turned into a wave of boos as the titantron lit up.
SANDRO ZHANG
In large gold block letters, framed with static and flames.
The lights came up just as Sandro stepped onto the stage. Dressed to the nines in a tailored black suit threaded with shimmering gold stitching, a black shirt underneath, and gold aviator sunglasses catching every ounce of light in the building. He stood still at the top of the ramp, soaking it in.
Arms wide. Head tilted back. The hometown hero turned hometown villain.
BOOOOOOOOOO!
Right on cue, golden pyro shot upward on either side of him. The crowd was molten, split between admiration and disgust.
Michael Cole couldn't contain himself. "YES! It's Sandro! Just what I was hoping for! This man dominated the Royal Rumble, FIVE eliminations in his debut! Final Four! He made a statement!"
Lawler groaned. "Oh great. Just great. Where's Shawn when you need him?"
As Sandro walked down the ramp, ignoring every hand, every sign, every insult hurled at him, the ring announcer, Justin Roberts' voice echoed over the sound system.
"Please welcome the newest member of Monday Night RAW... SANDRO ZHANG!"
Boos. Deafening. But Sandro didn't flinch.
He climbed the steel steps, stepped through the ropes with the poise of a man born to be in the spotlight, and walked to the center of the ring.
The crowd never stopped booing.
He turned slowly, scanning the arena through his gold lenses, then made his way to the ropes and held out his hand. A crew member quickly passed him a microphone. Sandro returned to the middle of the ring.
He slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket.
Then raised the mic.
"Real classy, Orlando. Real classy."
The boos intensified. Some fans started "ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!" chants. Others just hurled obscenities.
Michael Cole was eating it up. "He's speaking the truth, King!"
Lawler shook his head. "He's full of himself. That's what he is."
Sandro just smirked and continued.
"Honestly, I'm ashamed to call this place my hometown. I really am. But... I get it. You're desperate. You cling to the only thing that ever made you relevant, and that's me. I'm the last saving grace this city has. So I don't blame you for wanting to hold on."
BOOOOOOO!
"Now shut up and let me speak."
That only made the fans boo louder.
"Let's talk about what happened at the Royal Rumble. Let's talk about my debut. FIVE eliminations. Twenty six minutes in the ring. Final four. I made history. And I did it all with the odds stacked against me. New guy. No allies. Every main eventer and even legends in that match are looking to make me their highlight reel. And what happened?"
He tapped his chest.
"I became the highlight. I took names. I took space. I OWNED that ring. I didn't just debut, I arrived."
A pause.
"Now sure, I didn't win. I was eliminated by a cowardly group effort. Edge. Cena. Batista. Three veterans who couldn't handle one man running circles around them. I get it. I was a threat. So they panicked. They swarmed. That's what weak men do when power makes them nervous."
The crowd cheered that memory. Sandro smiled thinly.
"But hey, that was my first Rumble. It's understandable I didn't win. I was a novice. No experience. My strategy wasn't perfect."
He paused again. Let the words settle.
Then his tone shifted. Cold. Sharp.
"But what about Shawn Michaels?"
The crowd shifted. A mix of boos and cheers.
"A man with twelve Royal Rumbles under his belt. A two time winner. The 'Heartbreak Kid.' Mr. WrestleMania. The icon."
The crowd began to chant for Shawn.
"You tell me, how does someone like that get outplayed? How does a man with that much experience get eliminated like a rookie?"
"BECAUSE YOU BETRAYED HIM!" a fan screamed.
Lawler jumped on it. "Exactly! He did! You backstabbed him, Sandro!"
Cole fired back. *Oh come on, King. It's every man for himself! Don't be naive!"
Sandro raised a hand mockingly toward the crowd.
"Please. Let's get something straight. This wasn't betrayal. This was psychology. This was chess, not checkers. Bluffing is part of the game. This is the Rumble! If a seasoned veteran like Shawn can't see through a simple trap, then maybe, just maybe, he doesn't belong in that ring anymore."
The audience rained boos, but Sandro didn't let up.
"Batista knew what time it was. When Edge hesitated, he didn't trust it, he knocked sense into him. THAT'S a veteran. THAT'S ring awareness. But Shawn? He bought into the fairytale. He saw me smile, he heard a few sweet words, and suddenly we're best friends right?"
He scoffed.
"No. The real Shawn Michaels? He wouldn't have fallen for that. But he doesn't exist anymore. The real HBK died at WrestleMania last year. When the Undertaker beat him, he took his soul with him. What's left is a shell. A man obsessed. A man haunted. A man so desperate for closure, he's blind."
Gasps. Shouts. Lawler was stunned silent.
"So I did what someone needed to do. I pulled the curtain back. I pulled the trigger. I showed the world that the Heartbreak Kid is broken. I said a few magic words, and he followed me like a puppet. A zombie. And when I eliminated him?"
He looked around.
"You saw it. He snapped. He lost it. That wasn't heartbreak. That was a breakdown."
Cole leaned into his headset. "This is one of the coldest, most honest promos I've ever heard, King. My God."
Lawler, still reeling, whispered, "This is evil Cole."
Sandro raised his voice now, his tone booming.
"So I'll be the one to end it. Since the Undertaker doesn't care of a washed up HBK, I'll do what he couldn't done last year. I'll put down what's left of HBK for good. I'll end the myth. The obsession. The pain. I'll take him out, not for me, but for everyone else who's had to watch him decay year after year. I'll do it because nobody else will." The crowd raged, half booing, half watching in awe.
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA X Division Champion