If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
______________________________
(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Fans and critics alike praised the unique psychology of the bout. Even though the "I Quit" stipulation inherently allowed for the use of any weapons and meant the competitors could brawl anywhere outside of the ring without fear of count outs or disqualifications, the match hadn't devolved into a mindless, chaotic garbage wrestling spectacle. Instead, their match showcased how pure, brutal physical striking, elite technical grappling, and inhuman cardiovascular resilience could produce a masterpiece of suffering.
The fans showered immense praise onto both men. They lauded Chris Jericho for tapping into the terrifying, sadistic depths of his Painmaker persona, taking an unbelievable amount of physical punishment while simultaneously pushing the Triple Crown Champion closer to the edge of defeat than anyone had in his entire career.
And despite their hatred for his character, they were forced to acknowledge the sheer, terrifying brilliance of Sandro Zhang. His execution of the springboard backflip cutter,bthe Heavensfall, and the chilling, sociopathic precision of the three consecutive Last Note strikes to end the match, were universally recognized as an elite performance.
The match was so undeniable, so universally acclaimed, that it caught the attention of the most notorious, critical voice in the professional wrestling journalism sphere.
Dave Meltzer, the long time publisher of the Wrestling Observer Newsletter, officially released his star ratings for WrestleMania XXVII. And to the absolute shock of the wrestling community, Meltzer awarded the "I Quit" match between Sandro Zhang and Chris Jericho a perfect Five Star rating.
This was a massive, genuinely historical moment for the company. The WWE had notoriously been entirely shut out of Meltzer's which was highly coveted five star tier to some for over a decade. In fact, the last time Meltzer had awarded a WWE match five stars was in October 1997, for the legendary inaugural Hell in a Cell match between Shawn Michaels and The Undertaker at Bad Blood.
For fourteen years, through the peak of the Attitude Era and the height of Ruthless Aggression, Meltzer had withheld his highest praise. But the sheer storytelling, brutality, and technical mastery displayed by the God King and the Painmaker had broken the drought.
However, the reality of the WWE Universe was much different than the niche circles of internet wrestling forums. The vast majority of the casual fanbase simply didn't care.
To the millions of people who had watched the broadcast, Dave Meltzer was just a name. The only people who truly cared about the historical five star rating were the dedicated Meltzer fans, the dirt sheet subscribers, and the truly fanatical, hardcore wrestling purists who debated work rates and match psychology on message boards.
The WWE itself also didn't really care. As a global corporate juggernaut, they did not acknowledge the Wrestling Observer Newsletter on their programming, and they did not issue any sort of press release or official response to the historical rating.
The only person who did respond was the God King himself.
Later that night, as the sun began to rise on the east coast, Sandro Zhang sent out a single tweet. Remaining in full, brilliant kayfabe, perfectly maintaining his arrogant, sociopathic billionaire persona, Sandro addressed the historical rating with absolute disdain.
"A five star rating from the dirt sheets fourteen years later. How generous," Sandro tweeted to his millions of followers. "I better be given one. After all the undisputed five star masterclasses I have put on in this ring, the fact that Meltzer hasn't given me one for all those previous matches just proves what I've always known, the man clearly needed to be paid by Nexum Core before he was willing to recognize absolute perfection. You're welcome for the relevance, Dave."
The tweet was a masterpiece of character work, instantly going viral and further blurring the lines between reality and storyline, infuriating the hardcore wrestling purists while entertaining his loyal followers.
But ultimately, star ratings, social media arguments, and mid card championship shifts all took a back seat to the absolute, undeniable headline of the evening.
Lastly, the fans, the media, and the entire wrestling industry obsessively talked about the return of Brock Lesnar.
His sudden appearance at the end of WrestleMania was a masterstroke of booking. The fans passionately recounted the real life lore of the Beast Incarnate.
They talked about his abrupt departure from the WWE in 2004, his brief, highly publicized attempt to make it in the NFL, and his ultimate, dominant transition into the world of mixed martial arts.
They recalled how he had taken the UFC by storm, showcasing a terrifying blend of NCAA Division I amateur wrestling and raw, unadulterated brutality to become the UFC Heavyweight Champion. They discussed his battles with diverticulitis, his legendary fights against Randy Couture and Frank Mir, and his eventual, bloody loss of the championship to Cain Velasquez.
Brock Lesnar wasn't just a former professional wrestler coming back for a nostalgia pop. He was a legitimate, proven, terrifyingly dangerous prize fighter.
Inserting Lesnar into the main event picture as the newest challenger to Sandro Zhang was a massive breath of fresh air for the WWE programming.
For over a year since last year WrestleMania, Sandro had manipulated, outsmarted, and out wrestled everyone the locker room Rebellion had thrown at him. He had always been the smartest man in the room, the most technically gifted striker, the untouchable God King.
But Brock Lesnar was different. Lesnar was someone who was undeniably on the exact same physical and athletic level as Sandro, or perhaps, considering his massive size advantage and legitimate combat sports pedigree, even slightly above it.
The fans continuously shared and retweeted the final, shocking minutes of the broadcast. The GIF of Sandro Zhang weakly holding up two middle fingers to the Beast went absolutely viral, a symbol of the God King's unyielding, toxic ego. But the visuals that truly dominated the conversation were the moments of absolute destruction that followed.
They analyzed how effortlessly Lesnar had destroyed the exhausted champion. The sheer velocity of the two F-5s, driving the Triple Crown Champion face first into the mat with sickening force, was a stark reminder of Lesnar's unparalleled power.
And the three consecutive, high angle German suplexes, a terrifying sequence that the internet quickly and organically dubbed "Suplex City", were praised as the ultimate, humiliating physical dismantling of the previously untouchable billionaire.
As the fans furiously tweeted, debated, and shared their theories about what was to come, the professional media landscape also caught fire. Wrestling journalists, popular podcasters, and YouTube analysts rushed to their microphones, staying up all night to record emergency reaction podcasts and upload immediate post show reviews to share their opinions about WrestleMania.
"You have to look at the absolute brilliance of this booking," one prominent wrestling podcaster noted, his voice raspy from yelling during the live stream. "Sandro Zhang has spent the last year building an impenetrable fortress. He had the enforcers, he had the titles, he had the Special Advisor manipulating the board of directors. But tonight, the WWE stripped away every single piece of his armor. They took away his muscle. They had Chris Jericho take away his physical health in that brutal thirty minute war. And then, the ultimate twist of the knife, Paul Heyman takes away his political power by bringing in the one man Sandro cannot out muscle, Brock Lesnar."
"It's the perfect setup for the spring and summer storylines," a leading wrestling journalist wrote in his morning column. "Sandro Zhang is finally vulnerable. The God King is bleeding. He holds the WWE and World Heavyweight Championships, but Paul Heyman has officially declared war, and he brought a biological weapon to fight it. And let's not forget the Big Show holding a guaranteed title shot in his back pocket, actively hunting the United States Championship. Sandro has to fight a war on two entirely different fronts against two of the largest, most dangerous men in the history of the industry."
"The real question," an analyst pointed out on a popular morning sports radio show, "is how does a sociopathic, billionaire prodigy react to being humiliated? Sandro Zhang gave Brock Lesnar the middle finger while he was laying on his back. That tells you everything you need to know about his psychology. He isn't going to back down. He isn't going to surrender the gold. Monday Night RAW is going to be an absolute powder keg, and I genuinely fear for the safety of anyone who gets in his way."
The dawn broke on Monday morning, but the energy surrounding the professional wrestling world had not dissipated in the slightest. The landscape of the WWE had been fundamentally, violently altered. The Undisputed System, once a sprawling, gold drenched empire that suffocated the entire locker room, was now a fractured, bleeding remnant of its former glory.
Sandro Zhang had walked into WrestleMania as an untouchable God King, surrounded by loyal soldiers and flanked by a brilliant strategic speaker. He was walking out of Atlanta completely isolated, his body physically broken, his faction decimated, his former advisor actively plotting his demise, and the Beast Incarnate breathing heavily down his neck.
The fans knew that the fallout on Monday Night RAW would be absolutely historic. The ratings were projected to be through the roof. The WWE Universe was strapped in, completely captivated by the absolute chaos that had been unleashed, eagerly waiting to see how the Triple Crown Champion would respond to the darkest, most humiliating night of his career, and how he could possibly survive the terrifying, impending wrath of Suplex City.
Meanwhile back on the massive Georgia Dome, the show was not quite over for the fans in attendance. The live audience was still buzzing, their eyes glued to the center of the ring where the medical personnel had swarmed.
To keep up absolute kayfabe and protect the incredible, devastating narrative they had just built, Sandro remained entirely limp on the canvas. The WWE medical team, acting with frantic, rehearsed urgency, carefully rolled the Triple Crown Champion onto a rigid spinal backboard. They strapped him down, securing his neck with a brace, and hoisted him onto a rolling stretcher.
The seventy thousand fans watched in a mixture of awe and residual hostility as the battered God King, the man who had ruled the company with an iron fist, was slowly wheeled up the incredibly long entrance ramp.
Paramedics jogged alongside him, checking his vitals, playing their parts to absolute perfection. The visual of the completely destroyed champion being carted out of the arena cemented the sheer brutality of Brock Lesnar's return.
The stretcher was pushed through the heavy black curtains at the top of the stage, leaving the deafening roar of the Atlanta crowd behind.
The absolute microsecond the stretcher passed through the curtain and crossed the threshold into the Gorilla position, the atmosphere completely, fundamentally shifted. The blinding, aggressive arena lights were replaced by the dim, functional glow of backstage monitors and technical equipment.
And the silence of the backstage area was instantly shattered by a massive, thunderous round of applause.
Dozens of people, producers, writers, referees, stagehands, and a massive gathering of the locker room, were standing in the Gorilla position, clapping their hands in a sustained, genuine standing ovation.
Sandro, lying flat on his back, felt the sudden wave of respect wash over him. He reached up, quickly unbuckling the heavy medical straps crossing his chest. He pulled the neck brace off, tossing it to the side, and slowly sat up on the stretcher.
He swung his legs over the side and pushed himself up to a vertical base. He doesn't feel any of the pains but he have to act like he felt his ribs were screaming in legitimate agony, his back was covered in deep, angry red welts from the strikes, and act how he also felt the very painful cut on his lower lip.
But despite the physical toll of the thirty minute war, a massive, genuine, and completely out of character smile broke across Sandro's face.
The arrogant, sociopathic God King was gone. In his place was Sandro Zhang, the performer, a young man who had just successfully main evented the grandest stage in sports entertainment. He looked around the room, nodding his head and thanking everyone, deeply humbled by the respect from his peers.
Stepping through the crowd of applauding staff, parting the sea of personnel with his sheer presence, was the Chairman of the Board. Vince McMahon, still wearing his immaculate tailored suit from his earlier segment, walked directly up to Sandro. Vince had a massive, incredibly proud grin on his face.
Vince extended his hand. Sandro took it, returning the firm, respectful handshake.
"Outstanding," Vince said, his raspy voice filled with genuine appreciation. "Absolutely outstanding. That is how you close a show, kid. It was a very, very great WrestleMania main event debut for you. You and Chris brought a level of sheer physicality tonight that this company hasn't seen in years. You made them believe every single second of it."
"Thank you, Vince," Sandro replied, catching his breath, wiping a smear of fake blood and real sweat from his forehead. "It was an honor. We wanted to leave absolutely everything out there."
"You certainly did," Vince chuckled, patting Sandro heavily on his bruised shoulder, causing the champion to wince slightly. Vince's smile turned into a knowing, business driven smirk. "But don't celebrate too hard tonight. You still have a massive amount of work waiting for you tomorrow at Monday Night RAW. We shifted the entire landscape of the company in those last five minutes, and the whole world is going to tune in tomorrow to see exactly how you handle it."
Sandro let out a tired, authentic laugh at the quintessential Vince McMahon reminder that the machine never stops moving. He nodded his head at Vince, entirely understanding the massive responsibility resting on his shoulders for the upcoming television taping.
As Vince stepped back to confer with his lead producers at the monitor desk, the crowd in Gorilla parted once again.
Stepping forward was the undisputed locker room leader, a man who commanded absolute, unquestioned reverence from every single person in the back. The Undertaker, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, was moving incredibly slowly.
His body was completely battered from his brutal No Holds Barred match against Triple H earlier in the night. He was holding an ice pack to the back of his neck, and his face was bruised, but his eyes were sharp.
The Deadman extended a massive, heavily taped hand.
"Hell of a job, kid," the Undertaker said, his voice a deep, quiet rumble. He congratulated Sandro, nodding his head in profound approval. "You and Jericho put on a clinic out there. The psychology was brilliant. You took a hell of a beating to make that story work. That's what this business is all about."
_______________________________
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
