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And to get his first WWE rivalry right after debuting… with HBK himself? Unprecedented. If this feud truly caught fire with the WWE Universe, he'd fulfill his end of a deal he'd made with Vince McMahon before debuting. Something special. Something he'd been holding close to the vest. That was why he was going all out.
"Coming from you," Sandro replied, "that means more than you think."
Before Shawn could answer, the room was joined filled with another familiar figure. The door opened, and in walked Triple H. The Game. Dressed in his trademark leather jacket, hair slicked back, and with that trademark smirk. His eyes immediately darted to Shawn.
"Man," Triple H grinned, "you just can't keep yourself outta trouble, can you?"
Shawn smirked back. "Says the guy who's been in more fights backstage than I can count."
They traded a couple of goofy jabs, inside jokes only best friends could get away with, before Triple H's attention turned to Sandro.
"Gotta say," Triple H began, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, "that was one hell of a promo out there. Took guts to say that to Shawn's face on live TV. And you didn't stumble once. I like it."
Sandro nodded respectfully. "Appreciate it. I wanted to make a statement."
"You did," Hunter replied, leaning closer and lowering his voice just enough to give it weight. "And just so you know, the old man loves it too."
Sandro didn't need clarification, the old man could only mean Vince. He'd been around long enough to know that if Vince McMahon liked something, it wasn't just approval, it was a signal to go even bigger next time.
"Appreciate that," he said sincerely. "Means a lot to know I'm on the right track. Thanks for telling me."
The three of them lingered, talking shop, about crowd reactions, about timing, about storytelling. Sandro listened as much as he spoke, knowing full well that these two weren't just legends in the ring, but architects of WWE's future. Building rapport with them wasn't just smart, it was essential.
Meanwhile, the show continued rolling. Back in the arena, the crowd was electric again as the titantron lit up. And then… the opening chords of Metalingus by Alter Bridge tore through the arena.
"You think you know me…"
The familiar Edge theme blasted, the crowd erupted instantly, this wasn't just a pop, this was the roar for a man who'd just punched his ticket to WrestleMania.
The titantron lit up with flashes of his spear, his gritted teeth, his signature snarl. And the Rated R Superstar emerged from the back to a thunderous ovation. This was his first RAW appearance since winning the Royal Rumble, and he soaked in every cheer, every scream.
Dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket, the freshly crowned Royal Rumble winner stepped onto the stage with the confidence only he could carry. The fans cheered and chanted his name as he made his way down the ramp, soaking in every ounce of the spotlight.
Cole's voice cut through the noise. "The man who outlasted 29 others at the Royal Rumble, the man who now has the power to choose his WrestleMania destiny, Edge is here on RAW!"
Lawler added, "And the big question is, Cole, who's it gonna be? Which champion is Edge going to face on the grandest stage of them all?"
In the ring, Edge took a mic, pacing as the chants rained down. He waited, smiling, until the noise settled just enough for him to speak.
"I've been thinking a lot about WrestleMania," Edge started, voice steady but intense. "About the smart choice. Do I face the man who's undefeated at WrestleMania, 17 and 0, seventeen times, seventeen opponents, and seventeen victories. Including me in the list of the opponents he beat."
The crowd buzzed at the reminder of their past clash.
"Then there's the other option," Edge continued, tilting his head slightly. "The man who's the WWE Champion right now. A man with a far worse WrestleMania record than me. A man who's only recently won his first WWE Championship and still participates in the rumble shamelessly."
He let the thought hang in the air, playing the crowd with each pause. "So… do I choose the man who's undefeated on the grandest stage, or the man I've got a better record against?"
Before the crowd could fully digest the tease, the opening blast of Mark Henry's theme hit.
The crowd popped huge as the World's Strongest Man, the WWE Champion stepped out to the stage, his title slung over his shoulder like a badge of war. Henry's stride was slow, deliberate, his eyes locked on Edge as he made his way down the ramp, microphone already in hand.
Cole's voice carried the moment. "Here comes the World's Strongest Man and our WWE Champion, Mark Henry!"
Henry climbed the steps, stepped between the ropes, and stood toe to toe with the Rumble winner. He adjusted the title on his shoulder before raising the mic.
"Edge," Henry began, his tone low and heavy, "I'm not gonna waste your time. You choose whoever you want. But I'm gonna give you some advice. You'd better think real carefully about the choice you're about to make."
The crowd hummed with anticipation.
"Because if you pick The Undertaker," Henry said, pointing toward the crowd as if gesturing to the Deadman himself, "yeah, you'll probably lose. But you won't get hurt. You'll walk out of WrestleMania without a scratch… maybe just a bruised ego."
Henry stepped closer, his voice dropping into that cold, dangerous growl. "But if you pick me… I promise you, I'll do more than beat you. I'll put you down for good. I'll make sure WrestleMania is the last match you ever wrestle. I'll break your neck, Edge. And you won't just retire, you'll stay retired for good."
The crowd gasped at the venom in Henry's words. Edge stared back, a flicker of a grin playing on his lips, the kind that said he wasn't intimidated, but the tension was thick enough to cut.
Cole jumped in from commentary. "That's not just a warning, King, that's a threat! Mark Henry's making it clear that if Edge steps into his yard, it's career suicide!"
Lawler shot back, "Edge has faced danger before, Cole, but I don't think anyone's ever looked him in the eye and promised to break his neck. This is personal now."
Edge on the other hand steps closer, their foreheads nearly touching.
"You think I'm scared of you, Mark? I've been through hell and back in this business. You're the WWE Champion, sure, but you're not the one with the guaranteed ticket to the main event at WrestleMania. I am. And whether I pick you or The Undertaker… you better believe it's gonna end with me walking out with that championship."
The tension was palpable, the crowd roaring at the showdown. The segment ended with neither man backing down, both fully aware that whichever choice Edge made, the road to WrestleMania was about to get even more dangerous.
After that, the show rolled on with match after match, each bout keeping the energy high. The main event delivered exactly what fans wanted, a hard hitting, high drama spectacle that had the crowd on their feet right until the final bell. By the time RAW after the Royal Rumble went off the air, the audience in the arena and the millions watching from home were left buzzing.
The overall verdict was clear, people loved it. Fans were filing out with smiles, high fives, and loud chatter about what they'd just seen. The internet exploded the moment the credits rolled, Twitter feeds refreshing every few seconds with videos, photos, and hot opinions about the night.
But surprisingly, the thing that dominated the conversation wasn't Edge's much hyped return to RAW after winning royal tumble or his tense standoff with Mark Henry. That story was big, sure, but what had people really talking was the opening.
Sandro's unfiltered promo aimed straight at Shawn Michaels, the way Shawn had fired back without missing a beat, and the crackling tension between them… it had eclipsed even the Royal Rumble winner's tease about his WrestleMania choice.
Fans were replaying clips, quoting lines, and arguing over whether Sandro had "crossed the line" or simply raised the bar. The buzz was so strong that even major wrestling journalists were pushing their usual coverage aside to dissect every word of that opening segment.
Meanwhile, backstage, the atmosphere had shifted into its post show rhythm. Crew members packed up production gear, road agents went over match notes, and wrestlers wound down from the adrenaline rush of performing.
Shawn Michaels and Triple H, still lingering together, led Sandro toward the RAW locker room.
"This is where you make friends, kid," Shawn said with a grin. "And maybe a few enemies if you're not careful."
Hunter smirked, pushing the door open with one hand. "Just remember, nobody here cares about what you've got on paper. They care about whether you show up and put in the work."
Inside, the locker room was a mix of relaxed laughter, half dressed wrestlers cooling down, and the faint smell of sweat, muscle rub, and cologne.
Tonight, among the roster in attendance were not just Edge and Henry, but Hornswoggle cracking jokes in the corner, Santino Marella animatedly recounting some comedic bit to John Morrison, The Miz lounging back with a towel draped around his shoulders.
Then John Cena in full hustle loyalty respect mode chatting with Big Show, Cody Rhodes carefully folding his ring gear, R-Truth nodding along to something on his headphones, Randy Orton quietly lacing his boots, and Zack Ryder filming a quick clip for his web show.
Sandro stepped in without hesitation. No swagger, no airs, just a respectful nod as he started making the rounds. He shook hands with each person, looking them in the eye, offering a quick word of respect. For a man who carried the weighty title of being the son of the CEO of Nexum Core and the second largest shareholder of WWE, there was no sense of entitlement.
That made an impression instantly.
Edge, leaning against a bench with a water bottle, gave him a half smile. "You've got some guts, kid. Not many people get under Shawn's skin and live to tell about it."
Sandro chuckled. "Guess I got lucky. Or maybe he's just in a good mood."
Cena, who had been listening, clapped him on the shoulder. "Nah, man, you've got presence. That's the real deal. Fans can smell fake a mile away, and you didn't give 'em that."
Santino, in his usual animated way, threw up both hands. "Eh, I thought you were gonna get superkicked right there in the ring! And then, BAM! You flipped it back on him. I give you… how you say… maximum respect."
The Miz, leaning forward, smirked. "Well, if you keep talking like that, people are gonna be watching you every week just to see if you can top yourself."
R-Truth nodded, chiming in. "For real. That's how you hook 'em. Make 'em want more."
Even Henry, who had been wiping sweat from his brow after his segment with Edge, stepped in. "You carry yourself right, youngblood. Keep that up, and you'll be fine. Just remember, in this business, you earn respect every single night."
Sandro took it all in with genuine gratitude. "Thanks. I know I didn't come back here after the Rumble, and that probably rubbed some of you the wrong way. I had to go straight to my family that night. But I'm here now, and I want to make up for it."
A couple of wrestlers exchanged glances. Some had indeed thought he'd been avoiding them, maybe acting like a "big shot" after his Rumble performance. But the way he owned it now, no excuses, no defensiveness, shifted the room's energy.
"As an apology," Sandro continued with a grin, "I'm buying the first round tonight. There's a bar just down the street from the arena. Beers on me. That sound good to everybody?"
The reaction was instant and unanimous, cheers, laughs, and a few playful "hell yeahs" echoing off the walls. Whatever lingering doubts a few had about him started melting away. If there's one universal truth in wrestling locker rooms, it's that someone offering free drinks will always earn goodwill.
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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