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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Big E didn't even break his stride. He swung the heavy steel folding chair like a baseball bat, driving the edge of the metal directly into the security guard's ribs! The sickening crack echoed through the ringside area, and the guard immediately crumpled to the floor, entirely decimated.
Another guard lunged at Ryback. The massive enforcer simply reared back and drove the blunt end of the wooden baseball bat squarely into the man's gut, doubling him over, before delivering a brutal knee to the face that knocked him out cold. Kofi Kingston swung his kendo sticks in a blinding flurry, cracking the solid bamboo across the backs and shoulders of any remaining personnel who dared to step in their way.
"They are destroying the last line of defense!" Cole shrieked, completely sickened by the display of unmitigated violence. "The Undisputed System is showing absolutely no mercy! They are entirely brainwashed by Sandro Zhang!"
With the ringside area completely cleared of any interference, the seven heavily armed men slid in perfect unison under the bottom rope, re entering the squared circle.
The superstars who were actively holding Sandro Zhang down, Orton, Edge, The Miz, and Morrison, were entirely focused on restraining the thrashing God King. They didn't see the armed hit squad approaching from their blind spots until it was far too late.
What followed was a horrific, chaotic beatdown that would be replayed in highlight packages for years to come.
Wade Barrett stepped up behind Randy Orton and violently brought a steel chair crashing down onto the Viper's exposed back!
Orton screamed in agony, his grip on Sandro instantly breaking as he fell to his knees. Drew McIntyre followed up immediately, driving his steel chair directly into the spine of The Miz!
CRACK! WHACK! SMASH!
The sickening, chaotic sounds of steel and wood meeting human flesh entirely hijacked the audio feed.
Kofi Kingston unleashed a barrage of blistering kendo stick strikes across the shoulders of Edge and John Morrison, the bamboo splintering with the sheer velocity of his swings. Ryback swung his baseball bat wildly, driving superstars backward, creating a massive perimeter of absolute carnage. Ziggler and Woods used their chairs to jab and strike anyone who tried to step forward to help.
The human blockade that had successfully held the Triple Crown Champion captive was entirely, systematically decimated in less than thirty seconds. Superstars were rolling out of the ring, clutching their backs, their arms, and their heads, entirely overwhelmed by the sudden introduction of weaponry.
Sandro Zhang suddenly felt the heavy weight of the superstars entirely lift off his body. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the ropes, breathing incredibly heavily. He looked around, surveying the absolute wreckage. His armed enforcers stood in a protective semi circle around him, chests heaving, holding their weapons tightly, looking at him for their next command.
The sociopathic smirk slowly returned to Sandro's bruised, bloody face.
Sandro reached out, placing his taped hand firmly on the massive shoulder of Big E. He patted the powerhouse approvingly, then reached over and patted Wade Barrett on the back.
"Good boys," Sandro whispered, his voice a chilling, toxic purr. "Welcome back to the family."
"This is disgusting!" Lawler yelled, entirely appalled. "He abuses them, he humiliates them, and then he just pats them on the head like obedient attack dogs, and they accept it! The psychological manipulation of this faction is terrifying!"
"It is leadership, King!" JBL corrected wildly. "Sandro Zhang commands an army, and an army follows orders!"
With his immediate perimeter entirely secured, Sandro Zhang did not take the opportunity to retreat. He did not take the opportunity to escape the ring and protect his injured ribs.
Instead, the God King turned his unhinged, dilated eyes directly across the ring.
In the opposite corner, Brock Lesnar was still actively engaged in a massive struggle. John Cena, Sheamus, and Mark Henry were fighting for their absolute lives, desperately trying to keep the Beast pinned to the turnbuckles. Lesnar was thrashing, his face red with exertion, slowly but surely overpowering the three massive babyfaces.
Sandro let out a completely feral scream. He didn't ask his boys to attack. He simply launched his own battered body forward!
Sandro sprinted across the ring, entirely ignoring the searing pain in his abdomen, and launched himself completely into the air!
He flew directly through the massive, tangled bodies of Cena, Sheamus, and Mark Henry, using them as a physical ramp to violently hurl himself directly at Brock Lesnar!
The collision was catastrophic. Sandro crashed into Lesnar, his fists already flying in a frantic, blinding blur. The sheer, unexpected impact caused Cena, Sheamus, and Henry to lose their balance entirely, completely breaking their hold on the Beast.
Instantly, the brawl resumed! It was pure, unadulterated anarchy. Lesnar roared, throwing massive, heavy haymakers, while Sandro desperately clinched, throwing sharp elbows in the close quarters.
The Undisputed System boys, seeing their leader re engage, immediately charged forward with their weapons, looking to jump into the fray and completely outnumber Lesnar.
But before Big E could even swing his steel chair, the absolute, undeniable voice of God echoed through the Philips Arena.
"STOP THIS CRAZY SHIT!"
The sheer, distorted volume of the voice booming through the sound system caused every single person in the ring, including Sandro and Lesnar, to freeze for a fraction of a second.
Standing on the absolute edge of the entrance stage, completely red in the face, the veins in his forehead practically pulsating with unmitigated corporate fury, was the Chairman of the Board.
Vince McMahon held the live microphone in a death grip. He was breathing so heavily that the mic picked up every single ragged inhale. He looked down at the ring, entirely disgusted by the multi million dollar destruction of his roster and his security personnel.
"I SAID STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!" Vince roared, his raspy voice shaking with genuine, unfiltered anger. "I WILL FINE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU UNTIL YOU ARE HOMELESS IF YOU THROW ANOTHER DAMN PUNCH!"
The threat of financial ruin was the only thing powerful enough to cut through the adrenaline. The superstars in the ring slowly backed away from one another. Lesnar stood in the corner, his chest heaving, glaring at Sandro. Sandro stood in the center, protected by his armed boys, glaring right back.
Vince McMahon paced the stage like a caged tiger. He slowly turned his head, his furious, piercing gaze locking directly onto Paul Heyman, who was standing a few feet away on the stage, looking entirely shocked by the sheer magnitude of the chaos he had unleashed.
"And you!" Vince shouted, pointing a trembling, accusatory finger directly at the Advocate. "Paul Heyman! You think you are a genius?! You think you are the master manipulator of the WWE universe?!"
Heyman's eyes widened. He slowly lowered his own microphone, entirely unsure of where the Chairman was going with this.
"You wanted to take out the Triple Crown Champion!" Vince yelled, his voice echoing through the silent, captivated arena. "You wanted to bring the Beast back to dismantle the golden empire! But you did it entirely behind my back! You went rogue, Paul! You tried to stab Sandro Zhang in the back without bringing the Chairman of the Board in on the damn plan!"
The crowd let out a massive, confused murmur. Vince McMahon wasn't angry that Heyman had betrayed Sandro, he was angry that he wasn't invited to the execution.
"If you had just come to my office," Vince continued, his voice dropping into a dark, sinister, highly theatrical tone. "If you had just told me what you were planning... I could have helped you! I could have made absolutely sure that the knife you used to stab Sandro in the back was much, much sharper! I could have made sure that the blade was coated with the deadliest poison imaginable! I could have made this entire betrayal much more definitive, much more deadlier than what it turned out to be! But you wanted all the glory for yourself, Paul, and look at the mess you've made of my television show!"
Heyman looked completely taken aback, entirely outplayed by the ruthless, cutthroat corporate politics of Vince McMahon.
"Listen to Mr. McMahon!" Cole yelled on commentary, connecting the narrative dots. "The Chairman has hated the stranglehold that Nexum Core and Sandro Zhang have had on this company for a year! He wanted Sandro taken down just as much as Paul Heyman did! He's furious that Heyman botched the absolute kill shot!"
Vince violently pivoted, turning his back on Heyman and pointing his finger directly down the long ramp, aiming it squarely at the God King standing in the center of the ring.
"And as for you, Sandro!" Vince barked, a wicked, vindictive smile slowly replacing his anger. "Look at you! Look at the untouchable God King! You claim to be a god, you claim to be an apex predator, but the absolute second the Beast backs you into a corner, what do you do?! You scream for your lackeys! You force them to use steel chairs and baseball bats to protect you! You finally showed your real face to the entire world tonight, Sandro! You are nothing but a coward who hides behind his numbers and his weapons!"
Sandro's face contorted in pure, unadulterated fury. He stepped forward, raising the microphone to scream back at the Chairman, but Vince entirely cut him off, his voice booming over the sound system.
"Shut your mouth!" Vince commanded. "I am talking! I am the Chairman of the WWE, and I am officially cleaning up this entire mess right here, right now! You want warfare?! You want a fight?! Then I am going to give you exactly what you deserve!"
Vince McMahon took a deep breath, perfectly milking the dramatic tension of the moment. The twenty thousand fans inside the Philips Arena leaned forward in their seats, entirely silent, waiting for the massive booking decision that was about to alter the landscape of Monday Night RAW.
"Tonight!" Vince declared, throwing his hand into the air. "Right here in Atlanta! In the main event of Monday Night RAW! We are going to have a match! Brock Lesnar is officially back in the WWE, and he will be competing in his very first match since his return, tonight!"
The crowd erupted into a massive, deafening cheer at the prospect of seeing the Beast officially compete on free television.
"But," Vince yelled, raising a finger to silence the cheers. "Since Sandro Zhang is clearly an absolute physical wreck... since the medical team has explicitly informed me that his ribs are bruised, his head is cut, and he is absolutely, entirely not in any medical condition to have a sanctioned match tonight..."
Vince's wicked smile widened into a full blown, sadistic grin. He pointed directly at the seven armed men standing protectively around their leader.
"Brock Lesnar will not be facing Sandro Zhang!" Vince announced. "Tonight's main event will be a Handicap Match! It will be the Beast Incarnate, Brock Lesnar... taking on the entire Undisputed System! It will be Lesnar versus Dolph Ziggler, Xavier Woods, Kofi Kingston, Wade Barrett, Drew McIntyre, Big E, and Ryback! A Seven on One Handicap Match!"
The Philips Arena absolutely, fundamentally exploded.
The fans let out a huge, sustained roar of sheer shock. Within seconds, the reaction morphed into a chaotic, intensely divided mixture of deafening boos and massive cheers. Half the audience felt that Vince McMahon was absolutely, undeniably crazy, that pitting one man against seven elite, heavily armed superstars was an absolute death sentence, even for a freak like Brock Lesnar.
The other half of the crowd was cheering wildly, entirely convinced that the Beast was going to take the entire faction to Suplex City and systematically destroy the Undisputed System boys one by one.
At the ringside desk, the commentary team completely lost their minds.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Cole shrieked, throwing his hands into the air, completely astounded by the announcement. "A Seven on One Handicap Match?! Vince McMahon has completely lost his mind! He is sending Brock Lesnar into a literal slaughterhouse! There is no way one man can survive against seven of the most dangerous superstars on the roster!"
"It's a punishment!" Lawler realized instantly, pointing toward the stage. "Don't you see it, Michael?! Vince is taking complete advantage of this moment to brutally punish Paul Heyman! Heyman went behind Vince's back, so Vince is throwing Heyman's brand new client into a mathematically impossible situation! If Lesnar gets destroyed by the Undisputed System, Heyman's massive investment is completely ruined on night one!"
"It is absolute justice!" JBL bellowed, entirely ecstatic, a massive smile returning to his face. "Vince McMahon is finally doing the right thing! He is giving the Undisputed System the opportunity to legally, systematically execute the Beast on live television! Lesnar is going to be hospitalized by the end of this broadcast! The God King wins again!"
On the entrance stage, the realization of the Chairman's incredibly vindictive booking entirely washed over Paul Heyman. The Advocate's face turned completely pale. He dropped his microphone, rushing forward, frantically grabbing Vince McMahon's arm in a state of sheer, unadulterated panic.
"No! No, Vince, you can't do this!" Heyman screamed, protesting the decision entirely off mic, his voice cracking with desperation. "It's a setup! It's complete suicide! You can't put my client in a seven on one match! It's not fair! It's a conspiracy!"
Vince McMahon simply yanked his arm out of Heyman's grasp, laughing a cold, entirely ruthless corporate laugh. He stared down at the terrified Advocate, completely unsympathetic.
Inside the ring, the seven boys of the Undisputed System looked at one another, a dark, dangerous realization settling over them. They were armed. They had the numbers. And they had a direct, executive mandate to completely destroy the man who had humiliated their leader.
Sandro Zhang stood in the center of his armed hit squad, clutching his taped ribs. He looked up at the stage, his bruised face twisting into a terrifying, sociopathic grin of absolute victory. He wasn't going to have to fight tonight.
He was going to get to sit back, watch his empire do his dirty work, and witness the absolute, systematic execution of Brock Lesnar on live television. The battle lines were officially, incredibly drawn. The main event was set. Seven elite enforcers against one incredibly angry Beast, and Monday Night RAW was entirely guaranteed to end in absolute, unmitigated carnage.
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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, 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