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Striker, meanwhile acts like an analyst, chimed in. "That may be true, King, but Miz is nothing if not resourceful. He uses every advantage he has and in this case, Big Show who was with him IS the ultimate advantage."
MVP hit the stage next to a roar of approval, his swagger unshaken, his eyes locked on Miz like a missile zeroing in on its target. The bell rang, and the war was on.
The match was fast, athletic, and hard hitting. MVP brought the fight early, using his speed and striking to keep Miz on the defensive. Every time Miz tried to escape, MVP dragged him back, pounding him with forearms, driving him into the corners, and nearly stealing it with the Playmaker halfway through the match.
But Big Show was the great equalizer.
Time and again, the giant interfered, subtly at first, grabbing MVP's ankle when the referee wasn't looking, then escalating with distractions that allowed Miz to hit his signature DDT for a close near fall.
The ending was pure controversy. Miz yanked the top turnbuckle pad off, tossing it aside as the referee moved to fix it. In that moment, MVP had Miz dead to rights, but Big Show climbed onto the apron and leveled MVP with the WMD, his thunderous right hand connecting like a sledgehammer. MVP collapsed like a building under demolition.
Miz pounced. He hooked MVP, dragged him up, and planted him with the Skull Crushing Finale. The referee turned just in time for the count.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
The boos shook the rafters as Miz rolled to his feet, arms raised in smug triumph. Big Show joined him in the ring, lifting his arm high as Cole screamed in delight. "YES! That's how you do it! Miz retains the title, and all you haters can DEAL WITH IT!"
After that match ended, the arena plunged into darkness. Total blackout. For a long, heart stopping moment, there was nothing but the roar of the crowd.
Then, slowly, the lights came back, revealing the massive Elimination Chamber descending from the rafters like a steel monster ready to devour souls. The chains rattled, the structure groaned as it locked into place around the ring. The crew moved with precision, checking every bolt, every chain, every inch of steel. No room for error tonight.
Tony Chimmel's voice boomed. "Ladies and gentlemen… this is the main event of the evening! It's the Elimination Chamber match… and it is for the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!"
The crowd erupted as the first entrant emerged, Rey Mysterio, the ultimate underdog, sprinting down the ramp in a blur of color and energy. He slid into the chamber, slapped hands with fans through the chain links, then entered his pod, steel slamming shut behind him.
Next was John Morrison, parkour king, confident and cool, his shades glinting under the lights as he stepped into the chamber with a smirk that said he was ready to make history.
Next was CM Punk, flanked by Luke Gallows and Serena Deeb, his Straight Edge Society disciples. Punk sneered at the crowd, spouting gospel into the hard cam before finally stepping into his pod.
Then, the champion.
The gong hit like a cannon blast. The arena plunged into darkness once more, bathed in smoke and purple light as The Undertaker made his iconic march to the ring, the World Heavyweight Championship gleaming across his chest.
Each step echoed like doom. Each breath of smoke whispered death. The Deadman entered his pod, his eyes burning holes into the souls of everyone in that chamber.
The last two, Chris Jericho, oozing arrogance, and R-Truth, hyped and ready to shock the world. Once they were inside, the door slammed shut, chains locked, the referee signaling for the bell.
The Elimination Chamber loomed like a beast around them. And as the bell rang, the war for the World Heavyweight Championship began.
Jericho and Truth wasted no time the moment that bell rang, colliding like two men with nothing to lose and everything to gain. Fists flew in a blur, the sound of knuckles cracking against flesh echoing inside the unforgiving steel dome.
They battled not just inside the ring, but on the steel flooring that surrounded it, every slam, every suplex sending a shockwave of pain through their bodies.
The crowd roared when Truth, in a flash of wild courage, scaled the corner pod like a man possessed. Jericho staggered below, dazed but not out. Truth looked down at him, nodded once as if telling himself this was worth it, and leapt off like a human missile.
His body twisted mid air before he crashed onto Jericho with a diving crossbody that shook the chamber. The fans exploded into cheers, pounding the barricades as the replay hit the big screen in slow motion.
"Good God almighty!" Lawler yelled, his voice cracking from sheer disbelief. "R-Truth just risked his whole career right there!"
Cole, on the other hand, scoffed with disdain. "And for what, King? For WHAT?! To take out Chris Jericho? Truth's an idiot, he's got no strategy! That's why he'll NEVER be champion."
Striker leaned forward, his voice measured but tinged with excitement. "High risk, high reward, gentlemen. Truth just bought himself a window. The question is, can he cash in his victory before the chamber eats him alive?"
The war raged on as the clock ticked down. The first pod door clanged open, and out came Rey Mysterio like a shot of adrenaline to the match. The ultimate underdog bounced off chains and ropes like a pinball on fire, hitting springboards and hurricanranas with laser precision.
Jericho took a tilt a whirl headscissors that sent him sprawling, and Truth ate a 619 that nearly decapitated him before Rey climbed high for a diving splash that brought the crowd to its feet.
Five minutes later, John Morrison entered, and suddenly the chamber became an artist's canvas. Morrison danced across the chains, used the steel as his playground, and hit a springboard kick that flattened Jericho.
At one point, Morrison scaled the inner wall like Spider Man, launched himself backward with a breathtaking corkscrew, and crashed into both Truth and Rey in a move so beautiful even Striker couldn't help but gasp.
"This is innovation!" Striker shouted over the roar. "This is what makes the Elimination Chamber the most unpredictable match in WWE history!"
Then came CM Punk. The Straight Edge Savior stalked into chaos like a man bringing gospel to the damned.
He picked his moments, striking with ruthless precision, drilling Rey with a running knee in the corner and snapping Morrison's head back with a bulldog.
Every time Punk hit a move, he screamed scripture to the crowd, his voice cutting through the boos like a sermon no one wanted to hear.
Finally, the lights dimmed, the gong hit, and the world shifted. The Undertaker emerged from his pod like a demon unleashed. The crowd's reaction wasn't cheers.
It wasn't boos. It was awe. The Deadman walked into war with death in his eyes, throwing rights and lefts like thunderbolts, flooring everyone in his path. A big boot sent Morrison's soul into orbit. Snake Eyes to Punk, followed by a running boot that nearly decapitated him.
The chamber shook with chaos. Chains rattled as bodies collided, steel kissed flesh, and the mat turned slick with sweat and blood. Eliminations came hard and fast as the carnage mounted.
R-Truth was the first casualty, his early heroics erased when Jericho locked him in the Walls of Jericho on the steel floor, forcing a tap that looked more like a mercy plea.
Morrison followed, his daredevil style catching up to him after a brutal Go to Sleep from Punk that sent his lights out for good. Punk himself didn't last long, Undertaker planted him with a Tombstone so vicious it looked like Punk's soul left his body on impact.
Rey fought like a lion, using every ounce of heart in his body, but a sudden Codebreaker from Jericho ended his dream as Jericho then pinned him, leaving just two men standing inside that steel hell.
Chris Jericho and The Undertaker.
The crowd rose as one, the noise a living, breathing thing as the two warriors faced off under the cold, merciless glow of the chamber lights.
Jericho, battered and bloody, eyes wide with desperation. The Deadman, looming like a shadow carved from stone, eyes burning with unholy fire.
They clashed in the center, trading haymakers that echoed like gunshots. Jericho hit chops that stung like hornets, but Taker absorbed them, firing back with fists like hammers. A big boot floored Jericho, and the crowd roared. Snake Eyes, a leg drop, and Jericho looked broken in half. Taker raised his hand, that ominous claw reaching for Jericho's throat. The end was near.
And then—
From nowhere, suddenly some sort of a hatch at the top side on the outside of the ring creaked open. A lone figure emerged, crawling out like a ghost of unfinished business. The camera zoomed in and the world stopped.
It was Shawn Michaels.
The arena erupted in a sound so loud it rattled the foundations of the building. Shawn looked like a man who had crawled through hell to get here.
His head was wrapped in bandages, his body bruised and scarred from his war with Sandro earlier in the night. His eyes were wild, not with rage, not with madness, but with something darker.
Cole nearly jumped out of his seat, his voice shrill with excitement. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SHAWN MICHAELS! WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?!"
Lawler was stunned silent at first, then burst out, "He's not even in this match! Somebody stop him before he—"
"Before he what, King?!" Cole shot back, pounding the desk. "Before he makes history? Before he FINISHES what he started?!"
Striker's voice was hushed, like a man witnessing prophecy. "This… this changes everything."
Inside the chamber, Undertaker hadn't noticed. He was too busy hoisting Jericho up, his right hand clamped around Jericho's throat, ready to deliver a chokeslam that would end this war. But Shawn slid through the chains like a shadow, entered the ring, and in one swift, surgical strike—
CRACK!
Sweet. Chin. Music.
The kick landed flush under Undertaker's jaw, the sound like a gunshot in the dead of night. The Deadman crumpled, his body folding in slow motion as the crowd lost its collective mind. Cheers, boos, gasps, it was chaos. Pure, beautiful chaos.
Shawn stood over Undertaker, chest heaving, face grim, eyes locked on the fallen giant like a man staring into the grave he just dug. The arena was shaking, people were screaming, and commentators were losing their minds.
"WHY, SHAWN, WHY?!" Lawler yelled, almost pleading. "Why would you do this?!"
Cole's laugh was like poison. "Because he's smarter than ALL of you! Because he knew what it would take to finish The Undertaker, and he just did it!"
Jericho, dazed but aware enough to smell opportunity, crawled like a vulture toward the carcass of a fallen god. He threw an arm over Undertaker's chest. The referee dropped to the mat.
ONE!
The crowd screamed.
TWO!
Cole was on his feet. "COUNT FASTER!"
THREE!!!
The bell rang, and the world shifted. Chris Jericho was the new World Heavyweight Champion.
Tony Chimmel's voice boomed over the madness. "Here is your winner… and the NEW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION… CHRIIISS JERICHOOO!!!"
Jericho collapsed to his knees, clutching the title like it was the very oxygen in his lungs. Tears mixed with sweat and blood as he raised it high, roaring through the chains of the chamber. The fans booed so loudly it was deafening, but Jericho didn't care. He had done it.
Cole was euphoric. "YES! YES! I told you! I TOLD YOU ALL! Jericho is the man, Jericho is the new face of SmackDown, and guess what? You can thank SHAWN MICHAELS for making it happen!"
Lawler was furious. "Thank him?! This is disgusting! Shawn Michaels just SCREWED The Undertaker!"
Striker's tone was somber, thoughtful. "No, King… Shawn Michaels just sold his soul."
Cole smirked into the camera, voice dripping with venom. "You wanna know why, King? Remember what Sandro whispered to Shawn earlier? The only words we caught were 'chamber' and 'gap.' You know what that means? It means Sandro, GENIUS that he is, gave Shawn the plan. This was his last mind game, his parting gift of evil brilliance. He knew Shawn couldn't get Undertaker at Wrestlemania unless Shawn himself forced the issue. And guess what? It worked. PERFECTLY."
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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