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!)
...
The broadcast cut back to the ring, where Barrett and Ryback simply stood by the ropes, looking down at the broken body of the Showoff, waiting for the referee to start counting him out or for the doctor to stop the match. The survival of the RAW locker room rested entirely on the shoulders of an unconscious man.
The Capital One Arena was dead silent, save for the low, concerned murmurs of the fans in the front rows. The physician continue waving his small penlight back and forth across Ziggler's unresponsive eyes, while the second medic gently checked the Showoff's cervical spine.
Barrett stood with his hands on his hips, a cold smirk plastered across his face. He looked over at the referee, tapping his imaginary wristwatch.
"Count him out," Barrett demanded, his thick English accent carrying easily through the quiet building. "The match is over. Ring the bell."
The official looked torn. He leaned through the ropes, asking the medical team for a status update. The head doctor shook his head, raising his hands to signal that Ziggler was done for the night. The referee sighed, raising his arm to begin the dreaded ten count that would officially hand control of Monday Night RAW over to the Nexus.
"One!
The crowd groaned.
"Two!"
"This is a tragedy," Cole whispered, his voice thick with defeat. "Team RAW fought so hard. Drew McIntyre left his soul in that ring. But Wade Barrett's tactical brilliance was just too much to overcome."
"Three!"
"It's not a tragedy, Michael, it's a reality check," JBL replied, though his usual bluster was slightly muted by the sheer brutality of the scene. "The strong survive. The Nexus proved they are the apex predators in this jungle."
"Four!"
Down on the floor, Dolph Ziggler's hand suddenly twitched.
The medic reached out to grab his shoulder, urging him to stay down, but Ziggler violently swatted the hand away. The Showoff let out a ragged, agonizing gasp, rolling onto his stomach. He dug his taped fingers into the thin protective mats, his blonde hair plastered to his forehead with a mix of sweat and dried blood.
"Wait a minute!" Lawler shouted, pointing at the monitor. "Look at Ziggler! He's moving!"
"Five!"
Ziggler dragged himself forward, inch by agonizing inch. He reached out, his trembling fingers wrapping around the edge of the ring apron. His face was twisted in an expression of pure, unadulterated agony, but beneath the pain burned a blinding, furious need for revenge. This was the faction that had betrayed him. These were the men who had kicked his head off and left him for dead on NXT. He refused to let them win.
"Six!"
With a guttural roar, Ziggler pulled himself up to his knees. The Washington D.C. crowd began to stir, a low rumble of encouragement rippling through the arena.
"Seven!"
Ziggler forced himself to a vertical base, swaying dangerously. He clutched his bruised ribs with his left hand, dragging his heavy boots across the floor. He grabbed the bottom rope, sliding his battered body under it just as the referee raised his hand for the count of eight.
The crowd erupted into a massive, unified cheer!
"He beat the count!" Cole screamed, his voice cracking with renewed hope. "Dolph Ziggler is running on pure, unfiltered adrenaline, but he is refusing to quit! The match continues!"
Wade Barrett's arrogant smile instantly vanished. He glared down at Ziggler, who was currently using the turnbuckles to pull himself up. Barrett angrily tagged in Ryback, stepping out onto the apron and pointing a demanding finger at the Showoff.
"Break him," Barrett ordered.
Ryback snorted like a charging bull. He stomped across the ring, grabbing Ziggler by the throat and easily hurling him into the opposite corner. Ryback followed up with a crushing clothesline that flattened Ziggler against the pads. The big man scooped Ziggler up, hoisting him effortlessly over his head in a military press, and walked him to the center of the ring before dropping him face first into the canvas.
Ryback hooked the leg, lazily resting a massive forearm over Ziggler's face.
One! Two!
Ziggler thrust his shoulder up, breaking the count.
"The tenacity of this young man is unbelievable," Lawler marveled. "But how much more punishment can his body physically take?"
Ryback didn't look frustrated, he looked hungry. He dragged Ziggler up by his blonde hair, locking his massive arms around Ziggler's torso in a punishing bearhug. He squeezed, targeting the ribs he had already damaged on the steel ring post. Ziggler screamed in pain, flailing his legs desperately. The referee checked his hand, asking if he wanted to submit, but Ziggler refused.
Relying on sheer survival instinct, Ziggler threw a sharp, desperate elbow directly into the bridge of Ryback's nose. The powerhouse blinked, his grip loosening just a fraction. Ziggler threw another elbow, then a third, finally breaking the hold.
Ryback growled, swinging a wild, looping right hook. Ziggler ducked it, bounced off the ropes, and launched himself into the air, connecting with a beautiful leaping facebuster!
Ryback staggered backward but didn't fall. Ziggler hit the ropes again, jumping up to deliver a textbook dropkick squarely to Ryback's jaw. The big man finally crashed to the mat.
The arena exploded!
"Ziggler is fighting back!" Cole yelled as the crowd leaped to their feet. "He's using his speed to neutralize the power!"
Ziggler, clutching his side, backed into the corner. He began tuning up the band, slapping his boot against the mat, waiting for Ryback to rise. As the enforcer pushed himself up to his knees, Ziggler sprinted forward, launching his foot for a superkick.
But Ryback caught the boot in mid air.
Ryback spun Ziggler around, grabbing him around the waist, and lifted him high for a powerbomb. But Ziggler shifted his weight perfectly in the air, grabbing Ryback's head on the way down and driving his face into the canvas with a spectacular, reversing X Factor!
Ziggler hooked the heavy leg.
One! Two!
Ryback powered out, sending Ziggler flying backward.
"A near fall!" Lawler cheered. "He almost had him!"
Ziggler didn't waste time. He slowly pushed himself up, his eyes locked on his massive opponent. Ryback, furious now, pushed himself up and let out a primal scream. He charged at Ziggler with terrifying speed, looking to take his head off with a Meat Hook clothesline.
Ziggler sidestepped the charge at the last possible fraction of a second.
Ryback couldn't stop his forward momentum. The massive enforcer plowed headfirst into the referee, who was standing directly behind Ziggler!
The official was crushed between Ryback's massive frame and the turnbuckles, instantly collapsing to the mat, completely knocked out.
The bell didn't ring, but the order of the match was officially destroyed.
"The referee is down!" Cole cried out in a panic. "Ryback just squashed the official!"
"It was an accident, Michael!" JBL defended. "Ziggler moved out of the way! But now there's no one to enforce the rules!"
Wade Barrett saw the opening instantly. The Nexus leader slid into the ring, completely ignoring the tag rope. He didn't come empty handed. Barrett had grabbed a heavy steel folding chair from the timekeeper's area.
Ziggler turned around, realizing the trap. Before he could react, Barrett swung the steel chair with maximum velocity, burying the edge directly into Ziggler's injured ribs. Ziggler crumpled to the mat, gasping for air.
Barrett stood over him, raising the chair high above his head, ready to deliver a crushing blow to Ziggler's skull that would undoubtedly end his career.
Ryback stood by, a cruel smile on his face, waiting for the execution.
Team RAW was decimated. The referee was unconscious.
The hope in the Capital One Arena was completely extinguished.
And then...
KSSSHHH!
A loud, piercing burst of static violently hijacked the stadium sound system.
The heavy, unmistakable guitar riff of Living Colour's Cult of Personality ripped through the arena speakers.
The reaction from the Washington D.C. crowd was something out of a myth. It wasn't just a pop, it was a physical shockwave of sound. The cheers and boos collided in a deafening, chaotic roar that literally shook the television cameras. Fans leaped over their seats, spilling drinks, grabbing their heads in sheer, unfiltered disbelief.
"No way..." Cole gasped, his voice trembling so hard the microphone barely picked it up. "It can't be."
"Listen to this building!" Lawler screamed, standing on his chair. "The roof is coming off!"
Wade Barrett froze in the center of the ring, the steel chair still held high above his head. His arrogant smirk completely evaporated, replaced by a look of profound, chilling horror. Ryback backed away from the ropes, his eyes wide, staring at the entrance stage.
The digital graphics on the massive TitanTron faded to black, replaced by a stark, terrifying image of a red and black skull with a knife through its teeth.
Stepping out from behind the curtain, absolutely radiating an aura of supreme, terrifying authority, was the God King.
Sandro Zhang had finally returned.
He didn't move. He stood perfectly still at the top of the ramp, bathing in the chaotic, deafening roar of the WWE Universe. He had been gone for more than two months, but his presence commanded the arena just as effortlessly as it had on the day he left.
His appearance was striking, a stark visual departure from his usual dark business suits. Sandro was wearing pristine, all white wrestling tights. The left leg featured the aggressive red and black skull and knife logo, contrasting sharply against the clean fabric.
He wore matching white wrestling boots, crisp white kneepads, and tight white combat gloves. Draped over his right shoulder was the World Heavyweight Championship. Secured around his waist was the WWE Championship.
He was the undisputed ruler of the universe, and he had come to reclaim his territory.
"It's him!" Cole yelled, completely losing his mind on the broadcast. "The God King has returned! Sandro Zhang is back on Monday Night RAW!"
"Look at the man!" JBL praised, his voice cracking with sheer reverence. "He looks like an absolute deity! The king has come back to deal with the treason in his kingdom!"
Sandro's face was a mask of cold, calculating fury. He didn't raise a microphone. He didn't play to the crowd. He simply let the two massive, gold championships slide off his body, dropping them carelessly onto the steel grating of the entrance stage.
Then, he moved.
Sandro sprinted down the ramp with terrifying, explosive speed. The white boots blurred as he closed the distance in seconds. He didn't slide under the bottom rope; he vaulted cleanly over the top rope, landing perfectly on his feet in the center of the ring.
Ryback, recovering from his initial shock, let out a roar and charged at the God King, looking to decapitate him with a clothesline.
Sandro smoothly ducked underneath the massive arm, hit the opposite ropes to build maximum velocity, and rebounded with a terrifyingly fast, blindingly stiff running elbow strike directly to the back of Ryback's skull.
The Last Note Elbow connected with a sickening CRACK!
The 290 pound monster was instantly separated from his consciousness, collapsing face first into the canvas like a dropped piano.
The crowd erupted in absolute hysterics!
"The Last Note Elbow connected to Ryback!" Lawler screamed. "He nearly took Ryback's head clean off his shoulders!"
"That was a lethal strike!" Cole yelled. "Sandro have shown why his arsenal was the most dangerous right here on Monday Night RAW!"
Wade Barrett stood frozen, slowly lowering the steel chair. The man who had orchestrated the hostile takeover, the man who had brutally dismantled the locker room, was now standing face to face with the architect of the golden empire.
Sandro slowly turned around, locking eyes with his former right hand man.
The stare down felt like an eternity. The usurper and the true King, surrounded by the deafening noise of thousands of screaming fans.
Barrett's face twisted into a snarl of desperate rage. He swung the steel chair horizontally, aiming to cut Sandro in half.
Sandro caught the edge of the steel chair with his white gloved hands, stopping the momentum completely. He ripped the weapon out of Barrett's grasp, tossing it effortlessly out of the ring.
Barrett threw a heavy right hook. Sandro blocked it, answering with a lightning fast combination of stiff kicks to Barrett's thighs and ribs. Barrett staggered, trying to throw a desperation Bull Hammer, but Sandro was too quick. The God King ducked the elbow, spinning behind Barrett and shoving him hard toward the center of the ring.
Sandro sprinted toward the corner. He leaped onto the middle turnbuckle, using it as a springboard. In a breathtaking display of jaw dropping agility, Sandro launched himself backward, executing a flawless, mid air backflip. As he descended, he reached out, hooking Barrett by the neck, and violently drove his face into the canvas with a devastating, high angle cutter.
"HEAVENSFALL CUTTER!" Cole shrieked, inventing a name on the spot for the spectacular maneuver. "My god, the athleticism of the God King is completely unmatched!"
"He just spiked Wade Barrett into the earth!" Lawler cheered. "The leader of the Nexus is out cold!"
Sandro popped back to his feet, barely breaking a sweat. He looked down at Barrett's unconscious body, his face devoid of any mercy.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over him. Ryback, operating on pure muscle memory and adrenaline, had somehow stumbled back to his feet. The big man was swaying heavily, his eyes completely glazed over from the elbow strike, but he mindlessly charged forward.
Sandro turned. He didn't retreat. He ducked Ryback's clumsy swing, stepped behind the massive enforcer, and hooked his arms.
In a terrifying display of raw, functional core strength that defied human logic, the God King lifted the 290 pound Ryback completely off the ground, settling the massive powerhouse onto his shoulders in an electric chair position.
The crowd went completely silent, trying to process what they were seeing.
Sandro reached up with one hand, locking his grip securely around the back of Ryback's neck. He paused for a fraction of a second, his white gear a stark contrast against the bright lights of the arena.
With a fierce, terrifying shout, Sandro dropped violently to a seated position, driving Ryback straight down to the canvas, spiking the enforcer brutally onto his neck and shoulders with a catastrophic, one handed driver.
"What did we just witness?!" Cole screamed, his voice giving out completely. "What do you even call that maneuver?! He just destroyed Ryback with a move I have never seen in my life!"
"It doesn't matter what you call it, Cole!" JBL yelled, laughing maniacally. "You call it the end of the rebellion! The God King has returned to restore order to his universe!"
Sandro stood up from the wreckage. He looked around the ring. Barrett was unconscious. Ryback was unconscious. The Nexus had been systematically, flawlessly dismantled in less than sixty seconds.
The God King turned his gaze toward the corner.
Dolph Ziggler was leaning against the bottom turnbuckle, clutching his bruised ribs, staring up at the man who had formerly ruled over his career with an iron fist. Ziggler expected an attack. He braced himself for the inevitable betrayal.
But Sandro didn't strike him.
Instead, Sandro reached down, grabbing Wade Barrett, the legal man in the match, by the scruff of his neck. Sandro dragged the Englishman's limp body across the ring, throwing him down right in front of Ziggler.
Sandro looked at the Showoff, gesturing with a single, sharp nod toward Barrett's body. Finish him.
Sandro then turned his back on the match. He stepped gracefully through the ropes, hopping down to the ringside floor. He didn't look back as he walked up the long steel ramp, moving backward, his cold, calculating eyes locked on the ring. He bent down, retrieving his two massive world championships, resting them on his shoulders as the crowd bowed in chaotic reverence.
Inside the ring, the referee slowly began to stir. He groaned, shaking his head, pushing himself up to his hands and knees.
Ziggler, running purely on fumes and disbelief, crawled over to Wade Barrett. He draped his arm over the chest of the Nexus leader, pressing his weight down for the cover.
The referee blinked, clearing his vision, and saw the pinfall. He slammed his hand against the mat.
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"THREE!"
Wade Barrett has been eliminated.
The crowd roared!
"Barrett is gone!" Lawler cheered. "It is officially one on one! Dolph Ziggler versus Ryback!"
Ziggler pushed himself up, leaning heavily against the ropes to stay on his feet. He looked up the ramp, locking eyes with Sandro. The God King stood at the top of the stage, a slight, deeply cryptic smile touching the corners of his mouth.
Behind Ziggler, Ryback began to move. The massive enforcer groaned, pushing himself up to his knees. The impact of the terrifying driver had completely destroyed his equilibrium, leaving him slow and vulnerable.
Ziggler heard the movement. He turned around, his eyes locking onto his target. The man who had betrayed him. The man who had powerbombed him into the steel post.
Ryback staggered to his feet, turning around blindly.
Ziggler let out a desperate scream, launching his body through the air. He grabbed Ryback by the back of the neck, pulling him backward with violent force, driving the enforcer into the mat with a flawless, explosive Zig Zag!
Ziggler scrambled over, hooking the massive leg, burying his face into the canvas as he prayed for the end.
The referee slid into position.
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"THREE!"
DING! DING! DING!
The energetic, heavy rock anthem of Dolph Ziggler's theme music flooded the Capital One Arena. The Washington D.C. crowd erupted into a massive, triumphant standing ovation.
"He did it!" Cole shouted, his voice hoarse from the sheer adrenaline of the main event. "Dolph Ziggler is the sole survivor! Team RAW has defeated the Nexus!"
"What a display of pure heart and tenacity by Ziggler!" Lawler applauded. "He refused to stay down, and he finally got his revenge on the men who betrayed him!"
Ziggler rolled onto his back, tears of pain and exhaustion streaming down his face. The referee raised his hand, officially declaring the victory. The locker room was safe. The Nexus had been repelled.
"Give Ziggler the credit for the pinfall, but do not ignore the reality!" JBL stated firmly, pointing at the TitanTron. "The only reason Monday Night RAW still exists is because the God King deemed it so! Sandro Zhang descended from the heavens and executed the traitors himself!"
The broadcast cameras cut to the entrance stage. Sandro Zhang stood perfectly still, bathed in a single spotlight. The pristine white gear shone brightly, the two massive gold championships resting heavily on his shoulders. The message was unmistakable.
The violent, chaotic uprising of the Nexus had been forcefully, brutally put down, not by locker room unity, but by the swift, terrifying hand of a returning dictator. The Capitol Punishment Pay Per View faded to black with the image of the God King looking down upon his the ring, leaving the entire wrestling world to wonder what dark, terrifying designs Sandro Zhang had planned next for the universe he had just saved.
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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 (1st - 376 days), 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