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Loud cheers from the fans as Sandro hit the floor and rolled to the apron. AJ followed, lifted him, and dropped him on the edge with a brutal snap suplex. AJ dragged Sandro inside and lined up another move, but Sandro countered, catching AJ's arm and flipping him into a hammerlock. He then swung AJ into the corner posts with full force.
AJ tumbled out again. Sandro stalked him, grinding the tip of his elbow into AJ's throat, choking him near the ropes.
Wade cheered, fists pumping, as the crowd booed in outrage.
Back in the ring, Sandro baited AJ into a power struggle but AJ slipped out and hit a pele kick that sent Sandro sprawling across the mat.
AJ followed up with a clothesline. He charged the ropes. In mid rebound, AJ leapt, connecting with a dropkick shot that echoed through the arena.
The crowd roared.
AJ covered, One… Two… Kickout!
Sandro's eyes opened in disbelief. AJ nodded, pumped his fist, and set his stance for an even bigger move.
He hoisted Sandro onto his shoulders, preparing for the Calf Killer slam, an homage to division kings of old.
But midway, Sandro ducked, shifting under the arm, coming up with a harsh back elbow to AJ's jaw that startled the crowd.
AJ staggered, but recovered, landing a low dropkick to Sandro's knee, immediately avoiding another blow.
Sandro screamed in pain, gasping for breath. He leaned back on the ropes.
AJ capitalized, dragging him to the corner, unloading crisp chops that reverberated in every seat. He followed with a running forearm into Sandro's back.
Then AJ whirled around and climbed to the top rope, eyes locked on Sandro.
The crowd chanted "STYLES! STYLES!"
He launched, Spiral Tap!
He dropped, hooked the leg —
ONE…
TWO…
KICKOUT!
Sandro kicked out at near light speed. The arena collectively gasped in shock again.
AJ dared to shout, raising his fist in both satisfaction and frustration. He paced, gathering himself, preparing to ratchet up the intensity.
He went for the cover again, but Sandro wriggled free.
Then came a sudden storm.
Sandro staggered up, doubled over. AJ charged, but Sandro sprang up with a glove clad right hand to AJ's cheek, rocking him momentarily.
He followed with a hard throw into the corner, then dragged AJ out and connected with a big superkick, cutting through the air.
AJ hit the canvas, spinning in pain.
He flopped to the mat. The crowd remained electric as Sandro stood over AJ Styles, a smirk flickering beneath the harsh arena lights. He dropped into a cover, his arm draped over AJ's chest, sucking in air like it burned to breathe. The referee's hand slapped the mat.
One… Two…
Kickout.
AJ's shoulder popped up just in time. The fans roared their approval. Sandro sat up, eyes wide with disbelief, running a hand through his sweat matted hair. He had thought that was it.
He had felt the match slipping into his hands. Wade Barrett shouted encouragement from the ringside, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Sandro got to his feet slowly, dragging AJ up with him. He whipped AJ into the ropes, but the X Division Champion rebounded and hit a sudden clothesline that took both men down. The crowd was boiling with energy as the two warriors lay motionless for a moment, bodies aching, lungs desperate for oxygen.
Sandro was the first to stir, crawling toward the ropes. AJ followed, dragging himself to the turnbuckle. They stood on unsteady feet, locked eyes, and charged.
They collided in the center of the ring, Sandro went for a knee, AJ ducked and responded with a spinning heel kick. Sandro crumbled. AJ pulled him back up, twisting into a suplex, but Sandro reversed it and lifted AJ for a brainbuster, connecting cleanly. AJ bounced on impact. Sandro crawled over.
One… Two…
Kickout again.
Sandro yelled in frustration, slamming the mat. He backed into the corner, lifting AJ to his feet. He tried for the Top System Cutter, running to the turnbuckles, leaping to the top rope, but AJ pushed him away at the last second. Sandro crashed to the mat hard.
AJ waited, timing it just right. He soared into the air with a picture perfect dropkick, catching Sandro as he got up. The crowd exploded. AJ didn't waste time, he rolled into a moonsault, then hooked the leg.
One… Two…
Still no three.
AJ couldn't believe it. He pulled Sandro up, drove his forearm into his face, then backed up, pointing to the crowd. They rose with him. He lifted Sandro, head between his knees.
Styles Clash.
He dropped Sandro and covered again.
One… Two…
Sandro kicked out, barely. The fans were screaming now, every near fall adding more fuel to the fire of the match and obscuring the ending on who would win.
AJ didn't stop. He sprinted to the apron, leaped onto the ropes, Phenomenal Forearm. It landed flush.
One… Two…
Kickout again.
Everyone was losing their minds. Wade was banging on the apron, screaming for Sandro to stay alive. AJ knelt, stunned, eyes wide with disbelief. He had hit everything. Everything.
Sandro stirred. Slowly. Painfully. He pulled himself up, gritting his teeth. AJ charged again, but Sandro snapped into a back elbow, spinning AJ around. Then a leaping enzuigiri that caught AJ right on the temple.
Sandro dragged AJ to the center and yelled something inaudible. He sprinted to the ropes, bounced off, running rebound, The Dragon Shot!
Sandro just used his old finisher on AJ.
Sandro dropped for the pin.
One… Two…
AJ kicked out again.
The crowd was breathless. Sandro lay beside AJ, both men drenched in sweat, gasping, broken.
And then it happened. AJ, trying to gain footing, whipped Sandro into the corner and followed up with a running big boot. Sandro staggered, right into the referee. The official took the full force and tumbled to the mat.
Chaos.
Sandro was down. AJ was winded. The ref was out cold.
Wade Barrett saw the opening.
From under the ring, he pulled out a steel chair and slid it toward AJ. The crowd booed loudly, and the commentary exploded.
"Don't do it, AJ!" Mike Tenay shouted.
Wade pointed and yelled, "Defend TNA or your honor?! You choose!"
He looked down at the chair. Then back at Sandro. Then at the title sitting at ringside, stolen just a week prior. He picked up the chair, just holding it sent the fans into a frenzy.
AJ Styles stood in the center of the ring, the steel chair trembling in his hands. The crowd buzzed around him, a thunderous mix of boos and anticipation. His chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat pouring down his face, muscles twitching from exhaustion and adrenaline. Sandro was down on the ground, dazed, barely conscious after the chaotic collision with the referee.
Wade Barrett stood on the outside of the ring, hands cupped around his mouth, yelling with a devil's grin on his face. "DO IT, AJ! DO IT! FOR TNA!"
"Don't listen to Wade, AJ! He wants you to take a shortcut!" Don West shouted.
The chair in AJ's hand felt heavier with every second he held it. He looked at it, then at Sandro, then to the fans around the Impact Zone, most of whom were chanting "NO!" Some still held out hope their hero would do the right thing. That he would rise above what Sandro and his goons always do.
AJ's knuckles turned white as he gripped the chair tightly. He looked down at Sandro, who had now made it to his feet, swaying but upright, a defiant smirk barely visible on his lips.
Inside AJ's heart, a war was raging.
He could see the bigger picture, Sandro continued holding his TNA X Division title that Sandro stole, mocking the foundation of the company, planting the seeds of the Undisputed System's takeover. FCW had already begun to crumble under their grip. If they took TNA next, what would be left not just for him, but for the fans as well?
He thought of the fans who'd followed his journey for years. Of the locker room warriors who trusted him to carry their banner. Of his wife, who had been harassed and mocked by Sandro online during this feud. He couldn't let it continue.
Still, the honor bound voice in his soul shouted, "Don't do it." He was the Phenomenal One. A face. A standard bearer. The man who never cheated, never cut corners to win.
But then another voice whispered, "It's the only way. End this now. End his invasion. Save the title. Save TNA. Defend your wife's honor."
Sandro was on both feet now. He opened his arms wide.
"Come on, Styles!" he spat, daring him. "Be the man they need... or be the man who failed."
And that's when AJ made his choice.
He swung the chair.
The shot cracked through the arena like a lightning bolt, slamming across Sandro's skull with brutal force. The crowd gasped, half in horror, half in stunned silence. Sandro collapsed to the mat, motionless.
Tenay seeing that was shocked. "Damn it, AJ! You just got played by Sandro and Wade into their mind games!"
AJ didn't hear that as he tossed the chair aside with trembling hands, his face twisted in anguish.
He pulled Sandro to the center of the ring. Slowly, methodically, he hooked Sandro's arms, locked his legs, and dropped him headfirst into the steel chair below.
Styles Clash.
The crowd erupted into a mixed reaction of boos and disbelief even more as they saw this.
AJ shoved the crumpled chair out of the ring just as the referee stirred, crawling across the canvas, unaware of what had transpired. AJ covered Sandro.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
The bell rang, and the announcer's voice followed.
"Here is your winner… AJ STYLES!"
The crowd reaction was seismic. Some cheered. Many booed. Others simply stood, stunned.
AJ rose to his feet, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, his eyes unfocused. The referee raised his hand, but AJ pulled it away.
Wade Barrett slid into the ring, helping Sandro to his feet. Blood trickled from Sandro's forehead. He stumbled for a second, then stood tall, with Wade's help. The referee handed AJ his title that Wade had abandoned on the apron.
AJ stared at it.
Sandro smiled.
It wasn't a smirk of hatred. It was one of satisfaction. He locked eyes with AJ as Wade whispered something to him.
"The plan worked," Wade mouthed, and Sandro nodded slowly.
AJ's face shifted. Confusion. Then rage. Then something worse, realization.
He had been played.
The Undisputed System hadn't needed to win tonight. They had wanted AJ to fall. To fall from grace. And he did.
Sandro, bruised and bloodied, pointed at AJ and gave him a slow, mocking clap before exiting the ring. Wade followed, helping Sandro up the ramp as the fans continued to react with shock and disgust.
The show faded to black with AJ Styles standing in the middle of the ring, championship in hand, shoulders sagging.
The fallout was immediate.
Twitter exploded. The hashtag #AJSoldOut trended worldwide. On the FCW Official Forum and TNA's own site, comments poured in by the thousands.
"He betrayed everything he stood for! #AJSoldOut #Dissapointed"
"Can't believe AJ stooped to their level. #Disbelief"
"Honor means nothing anymore."
But some fans defended him.
"He did what he had to do. Desperate times. #ISupportYouAJ"
"TNA needed saving. AJ's the hero we don't deserve."
"He fought fire with fire."
AJ himself broke his silence two hours later with a tweet, "Sometimes doing the right thing doesn't look right. I didn't do this for myself. I did it for TNA. For my family. For what that title represents. Hate me if you must. But understand, I made sure Sandro didn't win. #TNA4Life"
But the responses were brutal.
"You let them win. Not with gold, but with your soul."
"You've become what you hate."
"You lost the war trying to win one battle."
AJ took it all hard. Sources close to him in kayfabe said he refused interviews the next day. Locked himself in the locker room. Didn't speak to anyone.
He wasn't grieving a loss.
He was grieving himself.
The Undisputed System now held the FCW North American Title, the FCW Tag Team Titles, and they had infiltrated TNA's very soul in AJ Styles. And for the first time in his career, AJ Styles stood alone, not just without allies, but without the fans he once thought would always be in his corner.
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: FCW
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