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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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They circled each other, the floorboards creaking under their steps. They locked up, and the stalemate was immediate. Neither man budged. The power was equal. Henry shoved Big E back, Big E responded with a massive shoulder block that didn't even knock Henry off his feet.
"It's like two freight trains colliding!" Cole shouted.
Henry smiled, beckoning for more. Big E hit the ropes, building steam, and launched himself into Henry again. This time, the World's Strongest Man stumbled. A third time, and Big E left his feet with a splash that finally took the big man down.
"Unbelievable agility from Big E!" Striker praised. "He moves like a linebacker!"
Big E tagged in Ryback, and the "Big Guy" entered to a chorus of "Feed Me More!" chants mixed with boos. He stared up at the Big Show, who stepped over the top rope to enter the fray.
The size difference was stark. Ryback, built like a comic book character, looked up at the seven footer. Big Show chopped Ryback's chest, a sound that echoed like a gunshot throughout the arena. Ryback winced, his chest turning beet red instantly.
"That sound!" Lawler winced. "That had to break a rib!"
But Ryback just grew angrier. He roared, absorbing a second chop, and then exploded with a meat hook clothesline that rocked the giant. Ryback grabbed Big Show's leg, driving his shoulder into the knee, chopping the tree down.
For the next fifteen minutes, the match became a clinic in power wrestling. It wasn't about headlocks or arm drags, it was about slams, suplexes, and brute force.
Henry caught Ryback in a bearhug, squeezing the breath out of him in the center of the ring. The fans rallied behind Ryback, a strange occurrence, just wanting to see him escape the vice grip. Ryback powered out, headbutting Henry, and managed to hit a spinebuster on the World's Strongest Man that shook the ring posts.
"Did you see the ring move?!" Cole yelled. "The impact is off the charts!"
The momentum swung back and forth. Big Show hit a chokeslam on Big E, but Ryback broke the pin at the last millisecond, diving over Henry to do it. The match broke down into a four way brawl, the referee powerless to stop the carnage.
Mark Henry grabbed Big E for the World's Strongest Slam. Big Show loaded up the KO Punch for Ryback.
"This is it!" Lawler shouted. "New champions!"
But the Undisputed System's chemistry was the X factor. Big E slipped out the back of Henry's grasp, shoving him forward. Henry collided with Big Show just as Show threw the punch, resulting in Big Show knocking his own partner out cold!
The crowd gasped. Big Show stared at his hand in horror.
Ryback didn't hesitate. He kicked Big Show in the gut. He looked at the crowd. He looked at the seven footer.
"No way," JBL whispered. "Don't try it."
Ryback marched around the ring. "FINISH IT!"
He ducked under Big Show's massive frame. With a guttural roar that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, Ryback hoisted the 500 pound giant onto his shoulders for the Shell Shocked.
The arena exploded. Flashbulbs popped. It was a feat of strength that defied physics.
Ryback marched three steps. One. Two. Three.
He dropped Big Show. The impact was seismic.
Simultaneously, Big E goes to pick up the dazed Mark Henry, showing his feat of strength, and delivered the Big Ending to him which shooked the ring.
Ryback covered Big Show. Big E covered Henry.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
"Here are your winners... and STILL World Tag Team Champions... BIG E AND RYBACK!"
The Undisputed System's music blared for the third time that night.
"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Cole was standing on his chair. "Ryback just Shell Shocked the Big Show! He marched him around like he was a child! The power of the Undisputed System is absolute!"
"That is what I'm talking about!" JBL roared, pounding the desk in triumph. "That is meat! That is power! That is dominance! You throw your biggest, your strongest, your heaviest at us, and we chew them up and spit them out! Big E and Ryback are the strongest tag team in the world! The Undisputed System isn't just a clever name, it is a statement of fact! They have cleared the board!"
"Clean as a whistle," Striker admitted, shaking his head in awe. "No interference. No Heyman. Just brute force. They just out powered the two strongest men in the company at their own game."
The rest of the faction at ringside stormed the ring to celebrate. Heyman slid into the ring, hugging his gargantuan champions. Wade, Drew, Kofi, they all slapped Ryback and Big E on the back.
They stood over the fallen bodies of Henry and Show. It was a terrifying visual for the rest of the locker room. They had won with technique against Edge. They had won with viciousness against MVP. And now, they had won with raw power against the giants.
Big E and Ryback then goes to .stood on the turnbuckles, raising their gold high, sweat pouring off them like rain. The message was loud and clear, the Undisputed System wasn't just surviving Survivor Series, they were conquering it.
The high of the tag team victory slowly settled, and a different kind of energy began to fill the void. The celebratory mood of the commentary team dampened, replaced by a tense, nervous hush, for the next matches to come.
"Three matches. Three victories," Lawler said, his voice grave. "The Undisputed System is perfect tonight. But the biggest test is yet to come for this group of hooligans."
JBL, who heard what Lawler said, snapped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing dangerously under the brim of his hat, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper that the microphones picked up perfectly.
"You want to watch your tone, King. I had the privilege of speaking with Sandro and the boys backstage last Monday. They aren't deaf, and they certainly aren't blind. They know what you've been saying about them. Let me tell you, they aren't fond of how you've been running your mouth out here. If I were you, I'd keep the editorials to a minimum and show a little more respect, unless you want a visit from them."
Lawler scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a defiant smirk. "Is that a threat, John? Are they going to brutalize me? Fine. Let them try. I'll have the legal department on speed dial so fast their heads will spin. I'll sue them for every dime they have and for creating an unsafe working environment for every non wrestler employee in this company. This isn't the Wild West, and Sandro isn't the sheriff."
"It's not the Wild West, Jerry," JBL shot back, adjusting his tie. "It's the jungle. And in the jungle, you don't poke the apex predator unless you want to get eaten.
"Also Good luck serving papers to a God," JBL continues, rolling his eyes. "You're playing with fire, Jerry, and you're wearing a polyester suit."
The two continued to bicker as the broadcast transitioned, their voices overlapping in a tense harmony that mirrored the friction in the locker room.
The next two matches provided a brief respite from the Undisputed System's narrative dominance, a solid mid card rivalry bout between Sheamus and John Morrison that ended with a Brogue Kick, followed by a Divas tag team match that served as a palate cleanser.
But even as high quality wrestling took place, the crowd's energy was anxious. They were waiting. Waiting for the moment that would define the night. Finally, the undercard was over. The house lights dimmed. The air grew heavy.
Fate had dealt its hand. The match that everyone was waiting for, the war for the soul of the Undisputed System, and the career of a legend, was about to begin.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Cole said, his voice dropping to a somber, serious tone, cutting through the lingering buzz of the previous match. "We have witnessed incredible action tonight. Sandro Zhang retained in a war with Edge. Kofi Kingston decimated MVP to retain. Big E and Ryback proved they are unstoppable monsters. The Undisputed System is batting a thousand."
"But this next one..." Lawler hesitated, looking at the empty ring as the lights began to dim. "This next one feels different. This isn't just about a title. This is about a life. This is about a man's dignity."
"Chris Jericho," Striker whispered into his microphone, his voice hushed with reverence. "The Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla. A man who has done it all, seen it all, and won it all. Tonight, he walks the plank. Sandro Zhang has made it clear, win, or be exiled. Reclaim the World Heavyweight Championship, or be erased from history."
"He put himself in this position!" JBL argued, though his usual bluster seemed forced, a crack in his armor of unwavering support. "He failed the family at Bragging Rights. Tonight is his chance at redemption. It's simple, be the best in the world, or go home. That is the standard of excellence Sandro demands."
The video package played on the TitanTron, a masterpiece of production that highlighted the brutal ultimatum Sandro had delivered on SmackDown during the contract signing.
The images flashed by, Jericho signing the contract with trembling rage, Sandro's cold stare, Punk's mocking laughter. When the video faded to black, the arena went dark.
Five... Four... Three... Two... One...
"BREAK THE WALLS DOWN!"
The familiar countdown hit zero, and the pyro exploded on the stage, but it felt muted compared to the earlier displays. There was no joy in it.
Chris Jericho walked out. He wore his signature lighted jacket, the LEDs pulsing in rhythm, but the usual swagger was gone. He didn't do the spin at the top of the ramp.
He didn't pump up the crowd. He walked with the weight of the world on his shoulders, his eyes focused, intense, but underlined with a desperate fear. He knew that Sandro was watching from the back. He knew that the sharks were circling, smelling the blood in the water.
Justin Roberts stood in the center of the ring, the spotlight finding him.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall... and it is for the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!"
The crowd cheered loudly, sensing the gravity of the moment.
"Introducing first," Roberts continued. "The challenger... Representing The Undisputed System... From Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada... Weighing in at 226 pounds... CHRISSSS JERICHOOOO!"
To everyone's surprise,including Jericho's, judging by the flicker of shock on his face, the fans erupted in a massive cheer. It wasn't the boos of a heel, it was the sympathetic roar for a legend backed into a corner.
They wanted to see him survive. Jericho entered the ring, skipping his usual pose on the turnbuckle, instead standing in the center and staring at the empty ramp. He went to his corner, pacing like a caged animal.
Static.
"THIS FIRE BURNS..."
The opening riff of Killswitch Engage tore through the tension.
CM Punk emerged through the smoke, the World Heavyweight Championship, the Big Gold Belt, strapped proudly around his waist. He was flanked by the towering Luke Gallows and the stoic Joey Mercury. The Straight Edge Society stood tall, a united front against a man who stood alone.
Punk smirked as he looked at Jericho. He knew the pressure his opponent was under. He knelt at the top of the ramp, checking his imaginary watch.
"It's clobbering time!" he screamed, the veins in his neck bulging.
He made his way to the ring, soaking in the mixed reaction of cheers and boos. Roberts raised the microphone again.
"And introducing the champion... Accompanied to the ring by Luke Gallows and Joey Mercury... Representing the Straight Edge Society... From Chicago, Illinois... Weighing in at 222 pounds... He is the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION... CM PUNK!"
Punk slid into the ring, climbing the turnbuckle to raise the title high. He looked down at Jericho and laughed, mocking him, pointing at the belt that Jericho needed to survive. "Where's your daddy now, Chris? Where's Sandro?"
He then hopped down, handing his title to the referee with a confident swagger.
The referee moved to the center of the ring, holding up the Big Gold Belt, displaying the prize to all four corners of the arena.
But before he could call for the bell, the TitanTron flickered again.
The crowd gasped. The image on the screen wasn't a highlight reel. It was a live feed.
The camera cut to a backstage shot.
Sandro Zhang sat on a leather couch in his private locker room, still in his wrestling gear, sweat glistening on his chest. The WWE and United States titles rested on the table in front of him like trophies of war. AJ, Nikki, and Alexa sat around him, their faces unreadable. Behind the couch stood the wall of muscle, Big E, Ryback, Wade, Drew, Kofi, Ziggler, and Heyman.
They weren't talking. They weren't celebrating. They were watching a TV screen that showed the ring.
Sandro looked directly into the camera lens. He didn't speak. He simply leaned forward, resting his chin on his clasped hands, his eyes dead and shark like. He was staring into the soul of Chris Jericho.
In the ring, Jericho looked up at the giant screen. He saw the judgment waiting for him. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He turned back to Punk, his face pale but his eyes burning with a terrified resolve.
The referee called for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
The match didn't start with a lock up. It started with a collision. Jericho charged across the ring, tackling Punk into the corner. He unleashed a flurry of chops and punches, screaming with every strike. Chop! Punch! Chop! Punch!
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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)
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0