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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Punk crashed violently into the two WWE Tag Team Champions, taking them down like bowling pins, but the God King remained entirely unscathed. "The sacrifice of the pawns!" JBL laughed maniacally. "The Undisputed System is a well oiled machine! They will gladly throw their own bodies in front of a bullet to protect their King!"
"That is cowardice!" Lawler yelled, disgusted. "Sandro can't fight his own battles! He relies on a human shield!"
Punk quickly scrambled to his feet on the outside, realizing the trap he had fallen into. Big E and Ryback immediately began to close in on him. The referee leaned out of the ring, counting and screaming at the Undisputed System to back away.
While the referee was distracted by the behemoths, Dolph Ziggler sneaked up behind Punk and delivered a vicious, illegal superkick to the back of Punk's knee! Punk cried out, collapsing to the floor.
Sandro slid back into the ring, his arrogant smirk returning. He waited patiently as a hobbling, battered CM Punk barely managed to roll under the bottom rope at the count of nine.
Sandro immediately pounced. He targeted the injured knee, stomping on it ruthlessly before locking in a torturous Figure Four Leglock. The pain etched on Punk's face was palpable, broadcast on the massive TitanTron for all the soldiers to see. The match had devolved from a wrestling clinic into a desperate fight for survival.
"The God King is dissecting him!" JBL cheered. "This is a masterclass in ring psychology! Take out the leg, ground the striker, and take the gold!"
Punk screamed, clawing at the mat, desperately trying to reverse the pressure. The match was an instant classic, a five star masterpiece of storytelling and physical endurance. The crowd's emotions swung with every blow, every near fall, and every illicit interference from the golden army at ringside.
After agonizing minutes in the submission, Punk finally managed to reach the ropes, forcing the break. Both men slowly dragged themselves to their feet, exhausted, battered, but refusing to yield an inch.
They met in the center of the ring. It was time to trade heavy artillery.
Punk threw a stiff forearm. Sandro answered with a blistering European uppercut. The soldiers chanted "YAY!" with every strike from Punk, and a thunderous "BOO!" with every strike from Sandro.
Smack! Smack! Smack! The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through Fort Hood. Punk gained the upper hand, unleashing a rapid fire combination of Mongolian chops followed by a spinning backfist that staggered the God King. Punk hit the ropes, looking for a leaping clothesline, but Sandro ducked it!
Sandro hit the ropes behind Punk, rebounding with terrifying, explosive speed. He dropped low to the canvas, his arm cocked back like a loaded shotgun, aiming directly for the back of Punk's neck.
"Watch out!" Cole screamed. "He's going for the Last Note!"
But CM Punk was ready. As Sandro swung the devastating elbow, Punk seamlessly dropped to his knees, letting the Last Note sail harmlessly over his head. Punk popped back up instantly, grabbed Sandro by the shoulders, hoisted him seamlessly into a fireman's carry position, and looked to the hard camera with a crazed, desperate fire in his eyes.
"GTS! GO TO SLEEP!" Lawler shrieked in absolute jubilation. "He's got him! CM Punk is going to end the God King's chance right here, right now!"
Punk tossed Sandro into the air, bringing his knee up for the devastating, knockout blow that had ended so many careers.
But Sandro Zhang wasn't a normal superstar.
In mid air, Sandro violently contorted his body, catching Punk's rising knee with his bare hands! Sandro shifted his weight, floating completely over Punk's shoulders, landing perfectly on his feet behind the champion.
Before Punk could even turn around, Sandro hooked Punk's arms, locking them in a straitjacket grip, and executed a brutal, high angle bridging Tiger Suplex, planting the back of Punk's head violently into the mat!
"Tiger Suplex!" Striker yelled, losing his mind. "The bridging strength! This could be it!"
The referee slid into position.
One!
Two!
Thre—NO!
CM Punk kicked out by an absolute millimeter, his shoulder popping off the canvas at the very last possible microsecond. The soldiers in the crowd let out a collective, breathless gasp, their hearts collectively stopping before erupting into a massive cheer.
"I don't believe it!" Cole yelled, his voice completely raw. "CM Punk survives! The heart of this champion is immeasurable! He simply refuses to die!"
"He's just delaying the inevitable, Michael!" JBL argued, slamming his fist on the desk, clearly frustrated by the kickout. "The God King is going to empty his entire arsenal until CM Punk stays down! The Triple Crown is coming to the Undisputed System!"
Sandro Zhang stared down at the mat, his chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths. The God King ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, his eyes narrowing into cold, calculating slits. The sheer, unyielding resilience of CM Punk was no longer just a hurdle; it was becoming an insult to his divine right. Standard maneuvers, even high-impact bridging suplexes that would have decapitated a lesser man, were not going to put the Voice of the Voiceless away tonight.
Sandro slowly rose to his feet, his gaze drifting over to the ringside area. Heyman was practically vibrating with anxiety, his face flushed red as he frantically barked strategic orders from the outside.
The golden army of the Undisputed System, Big E, Ryback, Wade Barrett, Drew McIntyre, Kofi Kingston, Dolph Ziggler, Xavier Woods, and the Queens, stood at absolute attention, a wall of imminent threat waiting for their master's command.
The match had reached a fever pitch, a terrifying crescendo of violence, psychology, and pure desperation, and neither man was showing any signs of backing down.
"CM Punk is not human tonight!" Cole yelled, his voice raw and echoing with genuine awe. "He is fighting on a torn up knee, his back is a roadmap of welts from those steel chair shots on Monday night, and he has the entire Undisputed System breathing down his neck! Yet he simply refuses to surrender the World Heavyweight Championship!"
"He is a stubborn mule, Michael!" JBL spat in disgust, slamming his hand against the commentary desk. "He doesn't know when he's beaten! The God King has outwrestled him, outsmarted him, and outclassed him! Punk is just prolonging his own suffering at this point!"
"He's fighting for the soul of the WWE, John!" Jerry Lawler countered passionately. "Look at the faces of these soldiers at Fort Hood! They are living and dying with every single heartbeat of this match! CM Punk is their champion!"
Inside the ring, Sandro didn't wait for Punk to fully recover. He dragged the champion up by his wrist, whipping him violently into the corner. Sandro charged in like a freight train, looking for a devastating running splash, but Punk's veteran instincts flared to life. Punk managed to get both of his boots up in a split second counter, catching the God King flush in the jaw.
Sandro staggered backward, his equilibrium momentarily shattered. Punk, gritting his teeth against the agonizing flare of pain in his knee, dragged himself up onto the middle turnbuckle.
With a primal roar that echoed through the fort, Punk launched himself into the air, connecting with a beautiful, twisting diving crossbody!
Punk hooked the leg! One! Two! Sandro kicked out powerfully, throwing Punk off of him.
Both men scrambled to their feet, the adrenaline masking the exhaustion. Punk struck first, snapping off a blistering roundhouse kick that connected with Sandro's ribs. Sandro doubled over, and Punk immediately clamped on a tight front facelock, looking to transition into the Anaconda Vise.
But Sandro possessed an otherworldly grappling acumen. He spun through the hold, slipping behind Punk, and executed a flawless, high angle back suplex that dropped Punk directly on the back of his neck.
"The technical prowess of Sandro Zhang is absolutely frightening!" Cole shouted hard. "He has an answer for absolutely everything CM Punk throws at him!"
Sandro didn't go for the cover. He wanted to break Punk's spirit completely. He grabbed Punk's legs, looking to lock in the Sharpshooter, a direct insult to Punk's history and pride. But Punk kicked wildly, his heavy boots connecting with Sandro's face, forcing the God King to break his grip.
Punk rolled backward, popping up to his feet. He saw Sandro charging and immediately utilized Sandro's own momentum against him, executing a beautiful tilt a whirl backbreaker.
The crowd erupted into a deafening chant of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" Punk fed off the energy of the thousands of troops in attendance. He limped to the corner, his eyes burning with a desperate fire.
As Sandro slowly pushed himself up to his hands and knees, Punk charged, leaping into the air to deliver his signature high knee strike directly to Sandro's jaw. The impact echoed like a gunshot. Sandro slumped forward, perfectly positioned.
Punk grabbed Sandro in a bulldog headlock, sprinted toward the center of the ring, and drove Sandro's face into the canvas with a thunderous running bulldog!
"He's got him positioned!" Lawler screamed, pointing at the ring. "This is vintage CM Punk! He's going up top! He's going for the elbow!"
Punk dragged himself to the corner, agonizingly climbing the turnbuckles. His bad knee protested every single step, but he pushed through the agony. He reached the absolute summit, pointing both index fingers toward the sky in his iconic tribute to Macho Man Randy Savage.
But as Punk prepared to dive, Heyman get up onto the ring apron on the opposite side, screaming wildly at the referee, claiming Sandro had been poked in the eye. The referee rushed over, trying to force the Speaker back down to the floor.
Taking full advantage of the distraction, Dolph Ziggler and Xavier Woods sprinted to Punk's corner. Ziggler grabbed the top rope, violently shaking it. Punk lost his balance, slipping on the top turnbuckle, and crashed crotch first onto the unforgiving steel turnbuckle joint.
"Dammit!" Cole cursed, slamming his pen down. "The Undisputed System strikes again! It is a relentless, suffocating numbers game! How is any one man supposed to overcome this?!"
"It's called having a royal court, Michael!" JBL laughed maniacally, completely delighted by the blatant interference. "The God King commands, and his holy knights execute! It's brilliant strategy!"
Punk was trapped in the tree of woe, hanging upside down in the corner. Sandro, recovering from the bulldog, saw his opening. The God King backed up to the opposite corner, his eyes locking onto his defenseless prey.
With terrifying, explosive speed, Sandro sprinted across the ring, launching a devastating Hesitation Dropkick that crushed Punk's face directly into the turnbuckle pads.
The impact was sickening. Punk crumbled out of the corner, falling to the outside of the ring, crashing heavily onto the ringside floor.
The match had officially spilled to the outside, the domain of the golden army.
Sandro rolled under the bottom rope, stalking his fallen opponent. Big E and Ryback stepped aside, allowing their leader to go to work. Sandro grabbed Punk by the hair, dragging him to his feet, and violently Irish whipped the World Heavyweight Champion directly into the steel ring steps.
The heavy steel steps dislodged from the impact, and Punk let out a guttural scream as his spine absorbed the collision.
"This has gone beyond a wrestling match," Lawler noted, a genuine tone of horror creeping into his voice. "Sandro is trying to maim him."
Sandro wasn't finished. He looked over at the English commentary desk. He pointed his scepter, which a ringside assistant had handed him, directly at Cole, Lawler, and JBL.
"Move," Sandro mouthed silently, his eyes dead and soulless.
"Uh oh," Cole stammered, frantically pulling his headset off. "He's clearing the desk! Get out of here, King! John, move!"
The three commentators scrambled out of their chairs as Sandro walked over and violently ripped the television monitors out of the desk, tossing them recklessly to the floor. He swept the paperwork, water bottles, and headsets off the table, stripping it down to the raw wood.
Sandro marched back over to Punk, hauling the practically unconscious champion to his feet. He dragged Punk toward the cleared announce table.
"Sandro Zhang has bad intentions in mind!" Cole yelled from a safe distance near the timekeeper's barricade. "He is looking to end CM Punk's career right here at Fort Hood!"
"Do it, my King!" JBL cheered, standing safely out of the way, clapping his hands. "Finish the rebellion! Put him through the wood!"
Sandro hoisted Punk up, slamming him back-first onto the announce table. Sandro climbed up onto the table with him, pulling Punk up by his trunks and hair, hooking Punk's head between his legs.
"He's going for a Piledriver!" Lawler shrieked. "A Piledriver on the announce table will snap his neck!"
But CM Punk, running purely on survival instinct, fought back. He threw a desperate, wild punch straight to Sandro's groin! The referee, standing inside the ring and warning them of a count out, couldn't see the low blow due to the angle.
Sandro dropped to his knees on the table, gasping for air. Punk saw his window. He dragged himself to his feet, grabbing Sandro by the throat.
"Punk has him!" Cole screamed. "Go To Sleep through the table! Do it, Punk!"
Punk hoisted Sandro onto his shoulders. But before he could drop the knee, Drew McIntyre and Wade Barrett hopped the barricade. McIntyre grabbed Punk's leg, while Barrett delivered a stiff right hand to Punk's kidney.
The distraction was all Sandro needed. The God King slipped off Punk's shoulders, landing on the table. With blinding speed, Sandro kicked Punk in the gut, hooked his arms, and lifted the World Heavyweight Champion high into the air.
"NO! NO!" Cole screamed.
With a terrifying roar, Sandro executed a catastrophic, high angle Powerbomb, driving CM Punk straight down through the English announce table!
CRASH!
The table exploded into a million pieces of splintered wood and twisted metal. CM Punk's body bounced sickeningly off the wreckage, folding in half before going completely limp amidst the debris.
The entire arena at Fort Hood fell into a state of absolute, breathless shock. The soldiers stood with their hands on their heads, staring in disbelief at the sheer brutality they had just witnessed.
"Good God almighty!" Lawler yelled, his voice cracking entirely. "He broke him in half! CM Punk is destroyed! The champion is motionless!"
"That is the price of defiance!" JBL bellowed, throwing his arms in the air in absolute triumph. "You stand in the way of the God King, you get erased from the history books! The era of Punk is over!"
Sandro stood atop the wreckage, breathing heavily, a sadistic, arrogant smirk playing across his lips. He looked down at the broken body of the Voice of the Voiceless. But Sandro knew that a count out victory wouldn't win him the championship. Titles don't change hands on a count out. He needed to pin him in the center of the ring.
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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
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) - 2010, & 1x KOTR (2010)
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0