If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
___________________________
He lifted the WWE Championship slightly. "This isn't an accident. This isn't luck. This is what happens when vision meets execution." He glanced around at his faction. "This is what domination looks like." The Undisputed System stood tall, unmoved, unrepentant.
The reaction was immediate and vicious.
The moment Sandro finished that sentence, "This is what domination looks like", the arena exploded in sound. Not cheers. Not applause.
Pure, sustained, venomous boos.
They rained down from every direction, a wall of noise so thick it felt physical. Fans stood on their feet, screaming insults, flipping birds, holding signs that read TYRANT, NOT MY CHAMPION, YOU STOLE IT. The parking lot crowd outside could be heard faintly through the structure itself, their fury echoing in distorted waves.
Inside the ring,The Undisputed System didn't flinch. If anything, they leaned into it.
One by one, the Undisputed System responded in unison, following Sandro's lead.
Wade Barrett and Drew McIntyre lifted the WWE Tag Team Championships high, faces hard, unapologetic. Big E and Ryback raised the World Tag Team Titles, Big E laughing openly as Ryback snarled at the crowd. Kofi Kingston hoisted the Intercontinental Championship, nodding slowly, soaking in the moment.
Chris Jericho slowly raised the World Heavyweight Title, eyes locked on the hard cam, unblinking with a smug half smile. Alexa Bliss lifted the Divas Championship above her head, blowing a sarcastic kiss toward the hard cam.
Dolph Ziggler, the only one without gold, raised his right hand high, fist clenched, standing tall among champions like he already belonged there.
The boos intensified.
Michael Cole could barely hear himself. "Listen to this place! The entire WWE Universe rejecting everything they stand for!"
Lawler growled. "And they don't care, Cole. Look at them. They love this."
Sandro didn't react. He calmly adjusted the WWE Championship, wrapping it securely around his waist, taking his time, making sure the plate sat perfectly at his center. Then he made sure the United States Championship stayed firmly on his left shoulder. Every movement was deliberate, composed, almost ceremonial.
Only then did he bring the microphone back up.
The noise didn't stop.
He didn't ask it to.
He waited until it felt right.
Then he spoke.
"So now," Sandro said, tilting his head slightly, voice thoughtful, almost conversational, "the question everyone seems desperate to ask is… what's next?"
The boos grew even louder at that.
Sandro exaggerated a pondering expression, tapping his chin lightly with the microphone, as if genuinely considering it. That alone drove the crowd into a frenzy.
"What are the Undisputed System going to do now?" he continued. "What could possibly come after this?"
Cole scoffed on commentary. "I'll tell you what comes next, Sandro, someone stops this madness."
Lawler shook his head. "I don't know who, Cole. But somebody better."
Sandro glanced toward the commentary table, smirking faintly, as if he'd heard them.
"What's next for me," he went on, "what's next for us… is simple."
He gestured around him.
"We decide."
That line hit like a slap.
Sandro smiled faintly, enjoying every second of it.
Before the crowd could even process it, Paul Heyman stepped forward, already holding a microphone he'd taken from the ringside crew. His posture was reverent, his expression sharp with excitement.
"My Maestro," Heyman said smoothly, voice carrying through the arena, "there are… two pieces of business left for you and this family to handle."
Sandro turned slowly, eyebrow raised, giving Heyman his full attention.
"Oh?" Sandro replied coolly. "And what would that two pieces of business be, Special Advisor?"
Heyman's lips curled into a knowing smirk.
"The first," he said, taking a step closer, "is your coronation."
The word alone caused another eruption of boos.
Heyman continued undeterred. "Your acknowledgment. As king, no, " he corrected himself, eyes shining, "as God of WWE."
The noise was deafening now as they lost their mind.
"THIS IS INSANE!" Cole shouted. "That's blasphemous! That's delusional! You've got to be kidding me!"
Lawler sounded furious. "This is insane. These people are out of their minds."
Heyman raised his voice over the chaos, eyes never leaving Sandro. "No one, no one, has ever achieved what you have achieved. Every championship. Every division. Total control. That doesn't happen by accident. That happens because of leadership. Vision. Because you conducted this company like a true Maestro."
He gestured to the gold around them. "Some might even call it… enlightenment."
The boos were deafening now. Chants of "YOU'RE NOT GOD!" and "DELUSIONAL!" thundered through the arena.
In the ring, Sandro listened.
Then he nodded.
Slowly.
"Yes," Sandro said, almost thoughtfully. "Yes… that's true."
The boos intensified.
Sandro turned fully toward Heyman, a faint smile forming. "You know, Paul… having you as my Special Advisor?" He chuckled softly. "Best decision I ever made."
Heyman bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, my Maestro."
Behind them, the rest of the Undisputed System applauded lightly, some clapping, some nodding in agreement, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
The fans lost it.
Sandro turned back toward the hard cam, spreading his arms wide, titles gleaming under the lights.
"Come on," he said loudly. "Acknowledge your Maestro. Your God."
The response was nuclear.
Booing. Screaming. Profanity laced chants that had to be censored on the broadcast. Drinks were thrown, not into the ring, but into the air in frustration.
Cole's voice was raw. "This is unreal. He's asking them to bow."
Sandro meanwhile laughed quietly.
"Perfect," he said. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
He lowered the mic slightly and turned back to Heyman. "Now," Sandro said, "what's the second piece of business?"
Heyman didn't miss a beat.
"I'm sure you've heard," he said, "about WWE's new… developmental brand."
Sandro nodded once. "NXT."
"Correct," Heyman's smile widened. "This Wednesday night, NXT goes live from Tampa, Florida. And they'll be unveiling their own championships."
The crowd buzzed, uncertain.
"Which means," Heyman continued, "more active titles."
He let the implication hang.
"Which means," he said slowly, "someone in the family can finally hold gold."
Sandro's eyes shifted.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
They landed on Dolph Ziggler.
Ziggler's eyes lit up instantly. He stepped forward, unable to hide the excitement burning across his face.
Sandro laughed.
"Ah," he said. "Yes. Very good thinking, Special Advisor."
Heyman bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Maestro."
Sandro turned fully to Ziggler. "How about it?" he asked. "You want a title of your own?"
Ziggler grinned. "I'm ready," he said confidently. "I've always been ready."
Sandro nodded. "Good."
The fans booed loudly, sensing exactly what was happening.
"Then let's do it," Sandro continued. "Lets make you become the inaugural champion of that developmental brand."
Cole shot upright in his chair. "WHAT?!"
Lawler's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious!"
"The main title," Sandro added casually, twisting the knife, "of course."
The arena erupted into chaos.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Cole shouted. "They're openly scheming for a championship that hasn't even been unveiled yet!"
Lawler was livid. "This is disgusting! They're hijacking an entire brand before it even starts!"
Sandro turned toward the main camera, his expression sharp, confident, unbothered.
"To everyone watching at home," he said, "be patient. This Wednesday… we're coming to NXT."
He smiled.
"And we're going to wreck it."
He glanced back at Ziggler. "You'll leave with gold."
Sandro laughed loudly, throwing his head back. The rest of the Undisputed System joined in. Even Heyman laughed now, clapping softly like a proud architect watching his masterpiece come together.
The laughter echoed through the arena.
Sandro lowered the microphone and gestured for the group to follow him. The Undisputed System began to turn, preparing to leave the ring, their work done.
Then—
All hell broke loose.
Out of nowhere, bodies poured into the ring from the crowd.
The fans erupted into deafening cheers.
KANE.
UNDERTAKER.
CHRISTIAN.
R-TRUTH.
JOHN MORRISON.
REY MYSTERIO.
TRIPLE H.
BIG SHOW.
SHEAMUS.
They stormed the ring from every angle, attacking the Undisputed System from behind in a sudden, explosive ambush.
"YES!" Lawler screamed. "YES!"
Cole was losing his mind. "BUSINESS IS ABOUT TO PICK UP!"
Kane grabbed Barrett and McIntyre, leveling both men with massive right hands. The Undertaker went straight for Jericho, driving him into the corner with brutal strikes. Triple H tackled Sandro from behind, sending both men crashing to the mat.
Big Show went after Big E and Ryback, throwing haymakers despite still clearly hurting from Night of Champions. Sheamus blasted Ziggler with a Brogue Kick that sent him flipping over. Rey Mysterio flew off the ropes, taking out Kofi with a lightning-fast headscissors.
The ring descended into chaos.
Chairs clattered. Bodies flew. The crowd was on its feet, roaring approval as the locker room emptied to fight back against the System's reign.
Sandro scrambled to his feet, eyes wild now, shouting orders, but the numbers were overwhelming. Triple H immediately hammered Sandro with right hands, driving him back into the corner.
Triple H's fists were pistons now, hammering into Sandro's jaw and ribs, driving him back into the corner with months of pent up fury behind every strike.
Sandro covered up instinctively, absorbing the blows, boots scraping against the turnbuckles as the ring shook beneath the sheer weight of bodies crashing and colliding around them.
This wasn't a fight.
It was a reckoning.
Drew lunged into the fray, grabbing Triple H from behind and yanking him off Sandro, spinning him around and cracking him with a brutal Glasgow Kiss that snapped Triple H's head back. Wade followed instantly, unloading a vicious elbow to the side of Triple H's skull, the two of them swarming him like wolves.
But they didn't get long.
Kane was already there.
The Big Red Machine stormed across the ring and plowed into McIntyre with a running big boot that damn near took Drew's head off. Barrett swung wildly, only to eat a thunderous uppercut that lifted him off his feet.
Kane grabbed both men by the throat for a split second, pure rage etched across his face, before shoving them backward into the ropes like discarded trash.
The crowd was unglued.
"THIS IS A WAR!" Cole shouted, barely able to keep up. "THE ENTIRE LOCKER ROOM HAS EXPLODED!"
"This is payback!" Lawler shouted. "Weeks and months of resentment boiling over!"
Undertaker was dismantling Jericho in the opposite corner, methodical and merciless. Jericho tried to fire back with chops, but each one only seemed to anger the Deadman further. Undertaker answered with heavy right hands, backing Jericho into the turnbuckles before wrapping his massive hand around Jericho's throat.
The arena erupted.
Chokeslam.
Jericho bounced off the mat like he'd been dropped from a building, rolling to the apron in agony.
"Jericho just got planted!" Lawler yelled. "That's what happens when you poke the Deadman!"
Big E and Ryback attempted to regroup together, bulldozing toward Big Show like twin tanks, but the World's Largest Athlete stood his ground.
Big E slammed into him with a shoulder block, Ryback followed with a running clothesline, and for a split second it looked like momentum might swing back toward the System.
Then Show roared.
He cracked Ryback with a headbutt that staggered him, then flattened Big E with a knockout right hand that echoed through the arena. Ryback swung back, Show caught him, and the two giants traded clubbing blows in the center of the ring, the canvas trembling beneath them.
Sheamus blasted through the ropes like a missile, Brogue Kicking Ryback square in the jaw. Ryback collapsed in a heap. Big E tried to get up—
Weapons Of Mass Destruction!
Big Show's fist dropped him instantly.
The fans were losing their minds.
"THE UNDISPUTED SYSTEM IS GETTING OVERWHELMED!" Cole screamed. "THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE EVERY ENEMY AT ONCE!"
Kofi tried to use his speed, springboarding off the ropes to take out Morrison, but Morrison met him in midair with a spinning kick that sent Kofi crashing to the mat. Mysterio flew in from nowhere, low dropping Morrison, then snapping Kofi into a lightning fast headscissors that launched him under the ropes.
Christian was hammering Wade now, peppering him with strikes before snapping off a reverse DDT that planted Barrett hard. R-Truth joined in, stomping away with wild, unrestrained fury, the crowd chanting his name as he unloaded everything he had.
Sandro staggered out of the corner at last, shaking his head, eyes burning now with something darker than confidence.
Anger.
He charged straight into Triple H again, tackling him to the mat, raining down forearms and elbows, snarling as he screamed orders to his faction. "GET UP! MOVE!"
_______________________________
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
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0