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"Stay down!" Sandro bellowed with a loud voice, dragging Michaels up by his hair. He hooked him, lifting for a powerbomb, but Shawn managed to counter it mid air into a hurricanrana that sent Sandro crashing into the corner turnbuckles!
The crowd went wild again as Sandro staggered out of the corner, dazed. Shawn met him with a flying forearm smash, kipped up once more, and the roof nearly came off the building.
Shawn hit the inverted atomic drop again, followed by a bodyslam, then climbed to the top rope a second time. He launched with another flying elbow drop, this time hitting it perfectly across Sandro's chest.
The crowd inside the arena was on its feet, roaring with unrelenting energy as Shawn rolled to his knees, his chest heaving, as he lined up for the Sweet Chin Music.
His chest was heaving, his eyes wild, sweat dripping down his face as he stomped his boot against the canvas in rhythm. Each thunderous clap from the audience matched the heartbeat of the moment.
Across the ring, Sandro struggled to his feet. His arms were limp at his sides, his head hanging, his legs trembling from the punishment he'd endured. The man was bruised, battered, but his pride forced him upright.
Shawn spread his arms wide, lips curling into a grin as the chants grew deafening. The fans were nearly foaming at the mouth. "Sweet Chin Music! Sweet Chin Music!"
"Here it comes!" Lawler cried in sheer excitement, bouncing in his seat as if he was about to jump into the ring himself. "Shawn's gonna end it right here! This place is about to explode, Cole!"
On the other hand, Cole leaned forward on commentary with a smug sneer, his voice dripping with disdain. "Oh, give me a break. This is ridiculous. Sandro has dominated most of this match, he's carried it, and one kick is supposed to erase all that? Typical Shawn Michaels luck. He's a fraud, King, a fraud, I tell you."
Lawler snapped back without hesitation. "Fraud? Are you kidding me, Cole? Look at the heart! Look at the fight! Sandro's great, I'll give you that, but Shawn Michaels is proving once again why they call him the Showstopper!"
Inside the ropes, Shawn waited, stomping harder and harder. Sandro staggered forward, lifting his head just enough to see his opponent's boot cocked and ready to fire. The roar was deafening. Shawn lunged—
But Sandro ducked at the very last second!
Shawn's leg whiffed past his head, the momentum spinning him around. Sandro reached out desperately, grabbing Shawn by the waist, and hurled him backward into a German suplex that rattled the ring. Shawn's body bounced on impact and flopped flat to the mat, the crowd gasping in shock.
Cole pounded his fist on the desk, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes! Yes! That's why this man is on another level! That's why Sandro is the future! Shawn Michaels couldn't lace this man's boots if he tried!"
Lawler smacked the desk, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe Shawn missed that kick! He had it! He had it won, Cole!"
Both men lay sprawled out, their chests heaving, sweat dripping into their eyes, exhaustion creeping into every motion.
The fans began a thunderous "This is awesome!" chant that echoed through the rafters. The camera panned over to the sea of fans, some on their feet, some covering their mouths in shock, but all glued to the action.
Slowly, Sandro crawled toward Shawn. His hand pressed against his chest, his jaw tight with pain, but his eyes burned with determination. He dragged Shawn up by the hair, his voice hoarse but still booming. "Stay down!"
He hooked Shawn, lifting him into position for a powerbomb. The crowd rose to their feet—
But Shawn twisted in midair, wrapping his legs around Sandro's head and flipping him into a head scissors that sent Sandro crashing down into the mat!
The arena erupted in an explosion of cheers.
Lawler jumped up from his chair, pointing into the ring with wild enthusiasm. "Unbelievable! Did you see that counter, Cole?! That's vintage Shawn Michaels! That's why they call him the Icon!"
Cole grimaced, rolling his eyes. "Oh, stop it. It was desperation, pure desperation. He got lucky, King. Sandro had him dead to rights, and Shawn just managed to slip away. Luck, that's all it is."
Sandro staggered out of the corner, clutching his shoulder, his face twisted in rage. Shawn met him with a flying forearm smash that sent him tumbling to the mat. Shawn kipped up in one fluid motion yet again, and the roof nearly came off the building once again.
The Heartbreak Kid was rolling.
He followed with an inverted atomic drop, then scooped Sandro up for a body slam. With the crowd urging him on, Shawn climbed the turnbuckles once more.
He steadied himself on the top rope, looked down at his fallen opponent, and launched with another picture perfect flying elbow drop that landed flush across Sandro's chest.
The building thundered with approval.
Shawn rolled onto his knees, panting hard, every muscle trembling. He pushed himself upright, pointed toward the corner, and stomped his boot against the canvas again. The chant rose back to life, shaking the foundation of the arena.
Cole threw his headset onto the desk for a moment, his voice rising in frustration. "Oh, no. No, no, no, not like this! This can't be happening!"
Lawler slapped the desk with both hands, nearly shouting into the mic. "It's happening, Cole! This is it! The Showstopper's about to put Sandro away!"
Shawn lined it up. Sandro slowly rose, his eyes glassy, his arms limp. Shawn swung the boot—
But Sandro caught his leg in the last second!
The crowd gasped. Sandro twisted it, spinning Shawn into his grasp. He hooked Shawn's arms, hoisting him up for a double underhook facebuster. Shawn kicked his legs wildly, wriggling free, and rolled behind Sandro.
Shawn pushed him toward the ropes. Sandro grabbed the top rope, stopping himself, then lashed out with a back elbow that cracked Shawn right across the jaw. Shawn staggered backward, clutching his mouth.
Sandro smirked, wiping blood from his lip. His eyes gleamed with a hint of trickery. He reached into his tights—
The crowd erupted in boos.
Lawler's voice cut through the noise in protest. "Oh, come on, what's he doing now?!"
Cole leaned in with glee, his lips curling into a smug grin. "That's called being smart, King. That's called doing whatever it takes to win. You think Shawn hasn't pulled a trick or two in his career? Please. This is brilliant!"
Sandro revealed a pair of brass knuckles, slipping them onto his hand as the referee's back was turned momentarily. He wound up, waiting for Shawn to turn around.
But Shawn ducked under the swing at the last second, hitting the ropes and rebounding with a flying forearm that sent Sandro spinning! The brass knuckles flew off his hand, skittering across the mat and out of the ring.
The crowd roared its approval, chanting wildly.
Cole slammed his headset back on, fuming. "Are you kidding me?! That was robbery! Shawn Michaels should be disqualified right now for knocking that weapon out of Sandro's hand!"
Lawler nearly laughed through his words, beaming with joy. "Oh, give me a break, Cole! Shawn just saved this match from ending in a disgusting way. That's not robbery, that's justice!"
Inside the ropes, both men were down again. Their chests heaved like bellows, sweat pooling beneath them. The referee checked both competitors, making sure they could still continue. Shawn then was the first one to slowly stand up, but suddenly—
The lights went out.
The arena plunged into darkness. Gasps rippled through the crowd. A low, chilling bell tolled, echoing across the building. The crowd erupted in a deafening mix of cheers and terrified screams.
"Wait a minute!" Lawler's voice cracked with shock. "That's… that's the Undertaker's music! The World Heavyweight Champion!"
Cole's voice rose in confusion and suspicion. "No way. No way. This has got to be Sandro's doing. This has to be another trick! He's playing mind games! This is all part of his plan, King, I'm telling you!"
The lights flickered, and Shawn stood frozen in the ring, his eyes darting around in confusion. He mouthed something to the referee, who shook his head, just as lost. Shawn turned back toward Sandro, not knowing whether to expect another cheap shot.
Shawn didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and nailed Sandro with the Sweet Chin Music, dropping him flat onto the mat! The crowd exploded into cheers—
But then, in an instant, the lights went out again.
The arena was drowned in pitch black.
For a long, tense moment, the only sound was the buzz of the crowd and the eerie toll of the bell. Then, with a sudden flash, the lights came back on.
And there he was.
The Undertaker.
The World Heavyweight Champion stood in the center of the ring, looming behind Shawn Michaels. His eyes rolled back, his expression grim and unyielding. The crowd lost its collective mind, a deafening roar shaking the rafters.
Lawler gasped audibly. "It's really him! It's really the Undertaker!"
Cole's jaw dropped. His voice wavered with disbelief. "No… no, this… this can't be real. How?! Why is he here?!"
Shawn's face become serious as he slowly turned around. His eyes went wide when he came face to face with the Deadman. The referee stepped between them nervously, his arms out, trying to maintain some semblance of order. "Don't do anything rash!" he pleaded, though his voice was drowned out by the roar of the crowd.
For a tense moment, Shawn and Undertaker stood nose to nose, the electricity in the air nearly tangible. Then suddenly—
Undertaker's massive hand shot out, wrapping around Shawn's throat. In one swift motion, he lifted Michaels high into the air and drove him down with a thunderous chokeslam that shook the ring.
The referee instantly signaled for the bell.
DING DING DING!
The match was over.
The official result was Shawn Michaels wins via disqualification.
The reaction was split, half the arena cheering wildly at the Undertaker's sudden arrival, half booing furiously at the interference robbing them of a true finish. Shawn lay sprawled on the mat, broken from the chokeslam.
Sandro, meanwhile, began to stir. Groaning, he clutched the ropes and dragged himself upright, his legs shaky. He looked across the ring, his eyes widened as he realized what had happened.
His chance at victory had been stolen. His body shaking with rage, Sandro screamed at the Undertaker, cursing him loudly enough that the cameras caught every furious word.
"YOU COST ME! YOU TOOK THIS FROM ME!"
The Deadman did not flinch. He stared coldly at Sandro, unblinking.
Sandro staggered toward Undertaker, veins bulging in his neck as he spat venom. The fans ate it up, watching the confrontation build. Undertaker didn't move. He simply stared at Sandro with that cold, unflinching gaze.
Sandro, defiant and furious, stepped right up to him, their foreheads nearly touching. He jabbed a finger into Undertaker's chest, shouting. "THIS WAS MY NIGHT! NOT YOURS!"
And then, like death itself striking without warning, Undertaker scooped Sandro up, turned him upside down, and drove him into the mat with a devastating Tombstone Piledriver.
The arena erupted in a thunderous ovation, the sound deafening as fans leapt from their seats. Undertaker knelt beside his fallen prey, rolling his eyes back and crossing his arms in his iconic pose.
Lawler's voice cracked with awe. "My God… the Undertaker just laid out both men! Shawn Michaels and Sandro are down! What does this mean for the World Heavyweight Champion?!"
Cole was nearly shouting, his voice trembling with rage and disbelief. "This is insane! Absolutely insane! Sandro had Shawn Michaels beaten, and the Undertaker just cost him everything! He ruined it! He ruined this match!"
The fans chanted in unison, their voices echoing through the arena. "Undertaker! Undertaker! Undertaker!"
The camera panned across the chaos, Shawn Michaels sprawled lifelessly on the mat, Sandro twitching from the impact of the Tombstone, and the Undertaker standing tall in the center of the ring, the World Heavyweight Championship draped over his shoulder.
The bell tolled once more, and the lights dimmed as the Deadman slowly made his exit, leaving carnage in his wake. It had been a war, a five star classic, a brutal battle that pushed both Shawn Michaels and Sandro to their absolute limits. But in the end, it was the Undertaker who had the final word, leaving the entire wrestling world buzzing, confused, and desperate for answers.
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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