If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
_____________________________
Behind them, through the open door, the camera caught a glimpse of the interior. It looked like a disaster area. The entire NXT women's roster, the "future of the industry", was laid out, unconscious and broken amongst overturned benches and shattered mirrors.
The Undisputed System gathered around Sandro. They didn't look tired. They looked hungry.
Sandro looked at Dusty, who was kneeling beside a fallen Sami Zayn.
"Consider the message delivered Dusty," Sandro said, his voice echoing in the now silent hallway. "NXT isn't a breeding ground or talent development. It's a place of those taken out by the Undisputed System."
Dusty just looked with anger in his eyes, and slowly the officials, securities, and referees managed to pushed the Undisputed System toward the exit, the screen began to fade.
The road to Hell in a Cell wasn't just ignited, the entire world was on fire.
The hallway faded out on NXT television, but the fallout was immediate and unavoidable.
By the time Wednesday night rolled into Thursday morning, the wrestling world was already on fire.
Twitter didn't just react, it detonated.
Clips of Sandro barking names and rivalries at the NXT locker room were looping endlessly. Fans replayed the moment he pointed fingers, replayed the hesitation, replayed the instant where unity cracked and chaos took over. Threads broke down every second, every shove, every miscommunication like it was a forensic crime scene.
"How do you stop a faction that doesn't just fight you… but turns you against yourself?"
That question became the center of the discourse.
Some fans were furious.
They said NXT looked weak. Embarrassed. Exposed.
"How does an entire locker room, men and women, get wiped out by one faction?"
"How is this supposed to make NXT feel like the future when they just got slaughtered?"
Others went deeper, more analytical.
They pointed out that the Undisputed System were outnumbered. That Sandro didn't just win with fists, he won with psychology. That the men's locker room didn't fall because they were weaker, but because they were fractured long before the first punch was thrown.
Fans pulled up old feuds.
Kevin Owens and Sami Zayn. Christopher Daniels and lingering ego clashes. Bryan's uneasy leadership. Shinsuke's lone wolf tendencies.
Sandro hadn't invented those cracks. He'd just pushed his fingers into them.
And the women?
Most agreed that part was brutally simple.
Steel chairs. Ambush. No warning.
AJ, Nikki, and Alexa didn't give the NXT women a chance to rally. They walked in like executioners and left bodies behind. Kayfabe or not, it was ruthless efficiency.
Of course, the criticism came too.
Some fans argued the storyline was unnecessary, even harmful.
"NXT already lost its main title."
"Now Sami's North American Championship feels like the top prize."
"You're blurring the line between NXT main eventers and mid carders."
They worried about credibility. About pillars being knocked off their foundation. About whether NXT was becoming a feeding ground instead of a battleground.
But the rebuttal was louder.
This wasn't new, fans argued. NXT needed such moments like this. Moments that dragged indie darlings into the mainstream spotlight. Moments that told the casual audience, these people matter.
And if anyone could believably do this?
It was Sandro and the Undisputed System.
This wasn't some thrown together faction.
They pointed out that, within the logic of the story, Sandro and the Undisputed System were essentially "Final Bosses."
"Think about the accolades," one viral post read. "Sandro and his boys have already dismantled D-Generation X, the best of RAW, and the heavy hitters of SmackDown. They've beaten Triple H, John Cena, Batista, Randy Orton, Undertaker, and Kane. If a team of legends like that can't stop them, why should a locker room of 'rookies' and 'indie darlings' be able to?"
Kayfabe mattered. And in kayfabe, this group wasn't just dangerous, they were inevitable.
The women's side followed the same logic. Alexa Bliss had already beaten every top woman on the main roster.
AJ and Nikki were now power boosted by alignment, confidence, and a shared sense of purpose that bordered on fanaticism. To have them lose to a group they caught by surprise with steel chairs would have made no sense at all.
Losing to NXT wouldn't have made sense.
The discourse raged for days.
Then RAW the following Monday didn't open with pyro.
It opened with tension.
The crowd buzzed before the music even hit, anticipation thick in the air. When Sandro's theme finally cut through the arena, the reaction was immediate and deafening. Boos, cheers, confused noise, it all blended into one roar.
Sandro walked out alone.
No girls. No Undisputed System.
Just him.
The United States title on his shoulder and the WWE Championship glinted around his waist, steady, untouched since the Tombstone.
He stepped into the ring, took a microphone, and waited.
He let the noise wash over him.
Then he smiled.
He didn't talk about the Undertaker's Tombstone. He didn't talk about the bruises on his neck. Instead, he talked about Vince McMahon.
"Isn't it interesting," Sandro's voice echoed through the arena, dripping with calculated malice, "that our 'fearless leader' hasn't launched a single public investigation into the photo leaks? He's quick to fire people for a missed cue, quick to fine people for a curse word, but when the private lives of his top stars are laid bare to the world? Silence."
The arena exploded.
Sandro tilted his head, amused.
"No investigation," he said. "No transparency. Just silence."
Sandro then took the crowd on a dark trip down memory lane, reminding everyone of the Ministry of Darkness era.
He reminded the fans how the Undertaker and his "cult" had once kidnapped Stephanie McMahon, subjected her to rituals, and forced her into a marriage, all in the name of a "Higher Power."
At the time, the world thought Vince was the victim. But in the end, it was revealed that it was him all along. "It was me, Austin!" was the phrase that broke the industry.
Boos rained down, not all aimed at Sandro.
"If a man is capable of orchestrating a cult to attack his own daughter for the sake of power," Sandro posited, "why is it so hard to believe he would leak a few photos to destabilize a champion and a faction he can no longer control?"
The seeds of doubt weren't just planted, they were watered with gasoline.
Sandro lowered the mic, letting the implication linger, before then dropped the mic and walked out.
By the time the second week rolled around, the pressure had become unbearable. The "Vince leaked the photos" narrative had gained so much traction that it was the only thing the fans wanted to talk about.
On the RAW leading into the Pay Per View, Vince McMahon appeared live. The swagger was gone, replaced by a frantic, defensive energy. He stood in the center of the ring, red-faced and shouting over a deafening chorus of boos.
"I have launched an investigation!" Vince screamed, his voice cracking. "It's an internal matter! I don't owe you people a public report on my business operations!"
The crowd didn't buy it. Every word out of his mouth was met with chants of "You leaked the photos!" and "Liar!"
Driven to a point of visible, shaking rage, Vince pointed a finger at the camera and yelled, "IT WASN'T ME!" before storming out of the ring, leaving a trail of questions and a very satisfied Undisputed System in his wake.
Finally, the calendar turned to Saturday. The destination, which was Dallas, Texas.
The atmosphere outside the stadium was unlike anything seen in decades. This wasn't just a wrestling show, it was a cultural event. The biggest stadium in Dallas was completely sold out, a sea of humanity converging to see the culmination of a month of chaos.
The air inside the arena was thick with the scent of pyrotechnics and the collective breath of nearly 20,000 people. Above the ring, the ominous, five ton structure of the Hell in a Cell hung like a guillotine. The fans were there for one thing, the main event. Sandro vs. The Undertaker.
On commentary, the familiar voices grounded the chaos.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Cole's voice rang out as the camera panned across the packed stadium, "welcome to Hell in a Cell, live from Dallas, Texas!"
The crowd roared, a wall of sound crashing through the speakers.
Lawler laughed in disbelief. "Cole, I've been doing this a long time, and I don't think I've ever felt tension like this in a building. You can cut it with a knife."
Striker leaned forward at the desk, eyes fixed on the massive steel structure hanging ominously above the ring. "Tonight isn't just another pay per view. Tonight is the culmination of weeks of chaos, accusations, and absolute destruction. And it all leads to that," he said, pointing upward. "Hell in a Cell."
Cole nodded. "And we cannot wait for the main event. WWE Champion Sandro defending his title against The Undertaker, inside the structure The Deadman made famous. If you believe in symbolism, folks… Sandro is walking into Undertaker's home."
Lawler shook his head. "Yeah, but let's not forget, Cole, Sandro has already beaten legends. He's already survived Undertaker once. Tonight? There's nowhere to run."
Striker added, "And that's not all. Members of the Undisputed System are defending gold all night long. Championships across multiple divisions are on the line."
Cole glanced down at his notes. "And right now, we kick things off with the WWE Divas Championship. Alexa Bliss defending in a fatal four way match against Brie Bella, Eve Torres, and Kelly Kelly."
The camera cut backstage briefly, catching a glimpse of Alexa pacing, jaw tight.
Lawler smirked. "You can tell she's not happy about this one."
Cole explained, "And we've confirmed, this match was authorized directly by Mr. McMahon. Paul Heyman tried to have it altered. No luck."
Striker added, "No disqualifications. No count outs. That means anything goes… and that plays right into the Undisputed System's wheelhouse, which was what I worried about."
Right on cue, the arena lights dimmed.
The Undisputed System mashed with Alexa's entrance music hit.
The reaction was immediate and loud.
Alexa Bliss stepped out onto the stage alone, the Divas Championship strapped proudly around her waist. She paused, soaking it in, chin lifted, confidence radiating from every step. She didn't look worried. She looked insulted that she had to prove herself again.
She walked down the ramp slowly, deliberately, rolling her shoulders as she entered the ring and posed on the turnbuckle, smirking.
Cole called it straight. "Alexa Bliss has been dominant. Arrogant, yes, but dominant."
Lawler chuckled. "When you can back it up, Cole, arrogance becomes confidence."
Brie Bella was next, sprinting down with intensity, eyes locked on Alexa. Eve Torres followed, focused and composed, and finally Kelly Kelly made her entrance, waving to the crowd before sliding into the ring.
All four women stood in separate corners.
The referee raised the title.
The bell rang.
Immediately, chaos.
Brie, Eve, and Kelly all charged Alexa at once, tackling her into the corner in a flurry of kicks and forearms. Bliss covered up, absorbing the assault as the crowd reacted loudly.
Striker pointed it out. "Smart strategy. Take out the champion early."
But the alliance didn't last long.
Eve was the first to break it.
She shoved Kelly aside to go for a quick pin attempt on Alexa, drawing boos and gasps. Brie pulled Eve off immediately, and suddenly it was every woman for herself.
The match exploded into motion, fast, frantic, relentless.
Alexa fought back, snapping with sharp elbows, but the numbers kept her down. She rolled to the outside to regroup, only to be followed by Kelly with a suicide dive that brought the crowd to its feet.
Inside the ring, Brie and Eve traded stiff strikes, counters, near falls.
Alexa re entered, throwing Kelly into the barricade and sliding back in just in time to break up a pin.
Cole's voice rose. "This is exactly the danger of a fatal four way. You don't need to beat everyone, just be there at the right moment."
As the match wore on, Alexa began to wear down.
Then—
AJ Lee appeared at ringside.
The crowd exploded.
Moments later, Nikki Bella joined her.
They didn't attack directly. They didn't need to.
AJ distracted the referee at the perfect moment while Nikki yanked Brie off the apron, sending her crashing to the floor. Kelly charged Nikki and got rocked with a forearm.
Lawler was dismayed. "It's legal, Cole! No disqualifications!"
Striker added, "And Alexa Bliss is a master of capitalizing on chaos."
Eve turned around—
Twisted Bliss.
Alexa soared off the top rope, crashing down onto Eve with precision.
The referee turned back.
One.
Two.
Three.
The bell rang.
Alexa Bliss rolled off Eve, clutching her title as the arena buzzed with noise.
Cole shouted, "She's done it again! Alexa Bliss retains the WWE Divas Championship!"
Lawler shook his head. "Love it or hate it, that's dominance."
AJ and Nikki slid into the ring, raising Alexa's arm as she smirked into the camera. The Undisputed System was off to a perfect start. After a brief highlight package, the mood shifted.
_______________________________
Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championships History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA X Division Champion, 1x WWE United States Champion, & 1x WWE Champion
Other Achievements: 1x Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner, 1x Mr. Money In The Bank, Youngest WWE Champion, & PWI Top 500 (No.1)
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0