If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
With The Dominator acting as his impenetrable shield, the God King slowly walked back through the heavy black curtains, leaving the World's Largest Athlete shaking with pure, unadulterated fury in the center of the ring. The stage was officially, violently set. Next week, Sandro's historic reigns of the United States Champion would face its absolute ultimate test inside a chaotic environment where the rules simply did not exist.
But the World's Largest Athlete was not going to wait an entire week to unleash his pent up aggression. The commercial break rolled, and when the USA Network broadcast returned, the Tingley Coliseum was treated to an absolute clash of the titans.
The ring had been cleared of the billionaire's presence, but the Big Show remained planted in the center of the squared circle. His eyes were still burning with unadulterated fury from the God King's legendary insult. The bell was about to ring for the opening contest of Monday Night RAW, an officially sanctioned Triple Threat match.
First to emerge from the back was the "Real American," Jack Swagger. Swagger marched down the ramp with a look of intense, focused arrogance, his collegiate wrestling background making him a dangerous, technical threat even against men twice his size.
Moments later, the heavy, rhythmic Punjabi music hit, and the arena trembled as The Great Khali slowly stepped out from behind the curtain. The seven foot one, incredibly massive Punjabi Playboy lumbered down the aisle, stepping over the top rope with absolute ease.
The referee signaled for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
The match was an absolute spectacle of sheer size, power, and clashing styles. Jack Swagger, entirely aware that he was giving up hundreds of pounds to both of his massive opponents, immediately utilized his elite amateur wrestling background.
As Big Show and Khali locked up in a colossal, earth shaking collar and elbow tie up in the center of the ring, Swagger strategically rolled to the outside, waiting for the two behemoths to wear each other down.
Big Show and Khali traded heavy, clubbing blows that sounded like slabs of meat being struck by baseball bats. Khali backed Big Show into the corner, raising his massive hand and bringing it down in a thunderous overhand chop to the Big Show's chest!
The smack echoed throughout the arena, drawing a massive reaction from the crowd.
But Big Show, fueled entirely by the boiling rage instilled in him by Sandro Zhang, barely even flinched. The World's Largest Athlete roared, grabbing Khali by the throat, shoving him backward, and delivering an incredibly stiff, heavy headbutt that sent the Punjabi giant staggering.
"Look at the sheer aggression of the Big Show!" Cole yelled on commentary, completely captivated by the opening bout. "He is taking all of his frustration with the God King and taking it out on The Great Khali! He wants to ride a wave of absolute destruction straight into Extreme Rules!"
"That's exactly what he needs to do, Michael!" Lawler agreed enthusiastically. "Big Show needs to prove to Sandro Zhang that he is not a dinosaur! He is a four hundred pound wrecking ball, and he is out for blood!"
"You two are completely ignoring the tactical genius in the ring!" JBL argued loudly, pointing his pen at the monitor. "Look at Jack Swagger! He is letting the two prehistoric monsters beat each other to a pulp! Swagger is going to pick his spot, lock in the Patriot Lock, and secure a massive victory for himself!"
JBL's prediction nearly came to fruition. As Big Show bounced off the ropes, looking to hit Khali with a massive running shoulder block, Swagger suddenly slid back into the ring. The All-American American executed a flawless, blindingly fast chop block directly to the back of Big Show's left knee!
The giant went down with a heavy thud! Swagger didn't hesitate. He immediately targeted Khali, delivering a beautiful, snapping belly to belly suplex that incredibly managed to take the seven foot one monster off his feet!
The crowd popped massively for the sheer display of functional strength.
Swagger immediately scrambled to Khali's massive legs, entirely locking in his signature submission maneuver, the Patriot Lock!
Khali groaned in agony, his massive frame writhing on the canvas as Swagger torqued the ankle with absolute, collegiate precision.
"Swagger has the Patriot Lock cinched in!" Cole shrieked. "Khali might have to tap out!"
But Khali, utilizing his immense upper body strength, managed to drag his massive frame toward the ropes, grabbing the bottom cable to break the hold. Swagger, frustrated, broke the submission, but immediately backed into the corner, setting up for the Swagger Bomb.
As Swagger launched himself off the middle rope, Khali suddenly rolled out of the way. Swagger crashed hard onto the canvas.
Khali slowly, methodically pushed himself up to a vertical base. He looked down at Swagger, who was frantically trying to scramble back to his feet. Khali raised his massive hand high into the air, the fingers extended perfectly flat.
Swagger turned around, entirely walking right into the line of fire.
THWACK!
The Great Khali delivered a catastrophic, skull rattling Brain Chop directly to the top of Jack Swagger's head!
The technical wrestler's eyes instantly rolled back into his skull, and he collapsed to the mat like a felled tree, completely and utterly unconscious.
The fans cheered the devastating strike, but the match was far from over.
As Khali turned around to secure the pinfall on Swagger, the shadow of absolute vengeance suddenly eclipsed him.
The Big Show had recovered.
The World's Largest Athlete stood entirely behind Khali, his massive right fist entirely balled up, his eyes burning with a terrifying, homicidal intensity. Khali slowly turned his massive frame around.
Big Show didn't hesitate for a single microsecond. He stepped forward, putting every single ounce of his four-hundred pound frame behind his right arm, and unleashed an absolute, catastrophic WMD directly onto Khali's jaw!
CRACK!
The Knockout Punch connected with absolutely sickening force! The Great Khali was instantly turned entirely inside out, crashing violently onto the canvas, his massive body completely limp!
The arena exploded into a deafening roar!
Big Show casually stepped over the unconscious body of Jack Swagger, hooking the massive, tree trunk leg of The Great Khali.
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"THREE!"
DING! DING! DING!
"He did it!" Cole cheered loudly as Big Show's heavy entrance theme blasted through the sound system. "The World's Largest Athlete secures a completely dominant victory in our opening contest! And Sandro Zhang better be watching very, very closely in the back! Because that Knockout Punch is a lethal weapon, and next week, there are absolutely no rules to stop Big Show from landing it!"
"Sandro Zhang isn't afraid of a lucky punch, Cole!" JBL barked, refusing to concede an inch. "But I will admit, Big Show looks focused. This Extreme Rules match is going to be an absolute war!"
Big Show slowly pushed himself to his feet. He didn't celebrate. He simply looked directly into the hard camera, raising his massive, taped fist into the air, sending a silent, incredibly violent message directly to the Triple Crown Champion.
As Monday Night RAW rolled on through its second and third hours, the live audience and the millions of fans watching at home began to notice something incredibly, deeply unsettling.
The show continued with matches after matches. A chaotic tag team bout thrilled the crowd. A backstage promo between two mid card rivals advanced their personal feud. A highly athletic Intercontinental Championship contender's match kept the wrestling purists entirely entertained.
But a massive, suffocating vacuum had formed over the entire broadcast.
There was absolutely no presence of Brock Lesnar. The Beast Incarnate, who had been completely laid to waste by the catastrophic Spear from Bobby Lashley on the entrance stage, had not been seen since the opening segment.
Furthermore, Paul Heyman was entirely missing from his General Manager's office. The camera crews repeatedly tried to knock on his door, only to find it locked and the lights turned completely off. The fans buzzed with speculation.
Was Lesnar legitimately injured? Had the sheer impact of Lashley's Spear completely shattered the Beast's ribs? Had Heyman evacuated the building in a state of sheer panic?
But even more concerning was the absolute, deafening silence from the golden empire.
Sandro Zhang, The Dominator Bobby Lashley, the three Queens, and the remaining, psychologically broken Undisputed System boys did not show their faces again.
They didn't interrupt a single match. They didn't cut a backstage promo. They had completely vanished after Sandro's incredibly arrogant encounter with the Big Show.
The fans in the the arena constantly looked toward the entrance stage, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The tension was palpable. It felt like the calm before a catastrophic hurricane. The God King was in the building, and his silence was far more terrifying than his threats.
Finally, the digital clock in the corner of the broadcast screen signaled that the final segment of the night had arrived. It was time for the main event slot.
The lights inside the Tingley Coliseum entirely cut to pitch black.
The heavy, arrogant, utterly obnoxious bass drop of "SHOCK THE SYSTEM" suddenly blared through the massive stadium speakers!
The reaction was instantaneous and entirely visceral. The sold-out arena unleashed a torrential, deafening wave of pure, unadulterated boos!
It was a wall of sonic hatred that practically shook the camera lenses.
Stepping out from behind the heavy black curtain, entirely bathed in a blinding, golden spotlight, was Sandro Zhang.
The Triple Crown Champion had not changed his clothes. He was still wearing the impeccable, custom tailored crimson suit. The World Heavyweight Championship rested heavily on his right shoulder, the United States Championship was draped over his left, and the WWE Championship was fastened securely around his waist. He looked like an untouchable, arrogant deity looking down upon a world of peasants.
Following closely behind him, stepping out in perfect, synchronized lockstep, were the three Queens of the Undisputed System. AJ Lee with the Divas title, Nikki Bella, and Alexa Bliss wore matching designer outfits, entirely exuding an aura of pure, toxic royalty.
And then came the absolute, undeniable muscle.
Bobby Lashley, The Dominator, stepped through the curtain. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket anymore. He wore a tight black athletic shirt that clung desperately to his massive, bulging pectoral muscles.
He walked with a cold, terrifying swagger, the ultimate, premium insurance policy that had entirely shifted the power dynamic of Monday Night RAW.
But it was the visual of the men trailing behind Lashley that sent a true, profound chill down the spine of the WWE Universe.
Wade Barrett, Big E, Kofi Kingston, Ryback, Dolph Ziggler, and Xavier Woods walked out onto the stage. They were not walking with the arrogant, untouchable swagger they had displayed for an entire year.
They walked with their heads entirely bowed, their shoulders slumped, their eyes glued firmly to the steel grating of the entrance ramp. They looked like prisoners of war. They looked entirely, fundamentally broken, operating purely on the psychological conditioning inflicted upon them in that dark room.
"Look at the sheer pageantry of the God King," JBL praised loudly, his voice filled with absolute awe. "He is marching his entire empire to the ring! The Dominator leads the pack, and the hounds follow silently behind! This is what absolute, unchecked power looks like!"
"It looks like a hostage situation, John!" Cole argued passionately, absolutely disgusted by the visual of the broken boys. "Sandro Zhang has completely stripped those men of their dignity! He is parading them out here like trophies of his own psychological abuse!"
Sandro led the massive, terrifying entourage down the incredibly long entrance ramp. He completely ignored the deafening boos and the hateful signs being aggressively pushed toward the barricades.
He climbed the steel steps, walking cleanly through the middle ropes, and stood in the absolute dead center of the squared circle. The three Queens flanked him. Bobby Lashley stood directly behind his right shoulder, his arms crossed, his dark eyes scanning the arena for any sign of Drew McIntyre or Brock Lesnar. The broken boys simply lined up along the ropes, entirely silent.
Sandro snapped his fingers, an arrogant, demanding gesture that immediately sent a ringside crew member sprinting into the ring to hand him a pristine WWE microphone.
Sandro brought the microphone to his lips. He didn't speak immediately. He just closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly, entirely soaking in the cacophony of hatred raining down upon him from the twenty thousand fans in South Carolina.
When he finally lowered his head, his bruised face twisted into a massive, sociopathic smile.
"Do you know what today is?" Sandro asked, his voice entirely soft, yet echoing with an incredible, commanding arrogance that forced the crowd to listen.
He slowly paced across the ring, entirely unbothered by the vitriol.
"I know that the lowhood in this arena, and the millions of simple minded fools sitting on their couches at home, struggle with basic mathematics," Sandro mocked, his tone dripping with pure condescension. "So I am going to make this incredibly easy for you."
Sandro gestured gracefully with his hand toward the massive, high definition Titantron suspended above the entrance stage.
The screen flickered, instantly displaying a beautifully produced, incredibly high end golden graphic.
The graphic read: SANDRO ZHANG: UNITED STATES CHAMPION - 365 DAYS.
The crowd booed the graphic loudly, but Sandro just laughed, a dark, chilling sound.
"Three hundred and sixty five days," Sandro declared, his voice slowly rising with unadulterated, toxic pride. "One entire, unbroken calendar year. Today, I officially become the longest reigning United States Champion in the entire modern era of professional wrestling!"
Sandro stopped pacing, staring directly into the hard camera.
"For an entire year, I have carried this championship," Sandro boasted, tapping the gold plate of the title on his left shoulder. "I took a belt that was entirely irrelevant, a belt that was fought over by mid card failures and stepping stone talent, and I elevated it to the absolute stratosphere! I made this title a primary, world class prize! I brought an unprecedented level of prestige, visibility, and absolute corporate dominance to the United States Championship!"
"He is absolutely correct!" JBL cheered at the desk, slamming his hand down in pure validation. "No one has treated that title with more respect than the God King! He is a history maker!"
"He defended it by cheating, John!" Cole shrieked, entirely exasperated. "He hid behind those broken men standing on the apron for an entire year! There is no honor in his milestone!"
In the ring, Sandro wasn't finished. He gestured to the Titantron again.
The graphic morphed, flashing with golden sparks, displaying a new, incredibly daunting set of numbers.
WWE CHAMPION: 211 DAYS.
WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION: 117 DAYS.
"Look at the numbers," Sandro whispered into the microphone, his voice incredibly intense, demanding absolute reverence. "Look at the sheer, undeniable reality of my existence. I haven't just held the United States Championship for a year. I have held the WWE Championship for two hundred and eleven days. I have held the World Heavyweight Championship for one hundred and seventeen days."
Sandro slowly stepped forward, completely leaning into his untouchable, billionaire persona.
"I am the Triple Crown Champion," Sandro declared, his voice echoing perfectly through the silenced arena. "I hold every single piece of relevant gold in this entire company. And more importantly... in all of those days, in all of those matches, in all of those main events..."
Sandro leaned forward, his eyes burning with absolute, terrifying arrogance.
"I am entirely, completely undefeated in my title defenses," Sandro stated, the sheer weight of his kayfabe power level crashing down upon the WWE Universe. "No one has been able to pin my shoulders to the mat. No one has been able to make me submit. You sent legends after me. You sent Hall of Famers. You sent the Beast Incarnate. And every single time, I have walked out with my gold securely fastened around my waist."
Sandro Zhang slowly raised the microphone high into the air, extending his arms wide, entirely presenting himself as an untouchable deity to the millions watching at home.
"I am the architect of this universe," Sandro proclaimed, his voice hitting a frantic, unhinged peak of pure, sociopathic ego. "I am the billionaire prodigy! I am the absolute, undeniable God King! And there is absolutely no man walking the face of this earth, there is no giant, there is no beast, and there is no psychopath who can dethrone me! I am immortal! I am—"
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 21 (2011)
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, & 1x World Heavyweight 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: 2 - 0 Main Event: 1 - 0