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The roar turned into a shocked gasp. People exchanged confused looks. Even the commentary team at ringside looked at each other, clearly not briefed on the twist. Dusty grinned from the booth. "That'll get their attention."
Nemeth's music hit, that familiar confident beat that sent the crowd to their feet. The FCW Champion strutted out, gold glinting on his shoulder, his smirk matching the swagger in every step. He climbed the turnbuckle, holding up the FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship proudly for the crowd that adored him.
He had no idea who his opponent was, as he doesn't heard the announcement who his opponent was backstage.
Backstage, Sandro stood by the curtain, rolling his shoulders as Dusty gave him a pat on the back. "Go give 'em a show, kid. Make 'em remember why you're one of the best."
Sandro nodded. "Yes, sir."
As Nemeth's music faded, the arena dimmed. Then the titantron flickered, black and gold flashes, the words UNDISPUTED SYSTEM lighting up the screen.
The crowd's confusion turned into wild disbelief.
Then, as the first riff of Sandro's Cult Of Personality entrance theme hit, the FCW Arena exploded.
The crowd roared to life, disbelief and excitement mixing into one thunderous sound. Fans stood up, phones flashing as Sandro finally stepped through the curtain, the gold and black gear shining under the spotlights, the replica WWE United States Championship glimmering over his shoulder.
Stephanie, Triple H, Steve, and Dusty all exchanged grins from the viewing booth.
The moment Nic heard Sandro's theme, his face lit up with a look of pure, stunned excitement. For a second, he froze, eyes darting toward the ramp as the familiar figure stepped into the light.
Then it hit him, and a grin split across his face. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," he muttered to himself, bouncing on his heels, wiggling his wrists loose. The adrenaline kicked in instantly. This wasn't just another match. This was Sandro. His best friend. His rival. His brother in arms.
The crowd, still buzzing from the shock, shifted their cheers into a confused roar of mixed emotions. Some fans screamed with excitement, others booed loudly, knowing full well that Sandro, since his main roster call up, had become one of the most despised and magnetic heels in wrestling. He loved it.
Sandro stopped at the top of the ramp and looked out at the sea of faces. That trademark smirk spread across his lips. He tilted his head, mocking the crowd's energy as the music blared. He raised a single hand… and then, with a defiant grin, extended his middle finger toward the stands.
The cheers instantly turned to nuclear heat. The boos came pouring in like a tidal wave. Some fans threw their hands up, others laughed and recorded the moment, but everyone was reacting.
That's what Sandro wanted. That's what he lived for.
Stephanie leaned back in her chair in the private booth, shaking her head with an amused smirk. "Oh, he knows exactly what he's doing."
Triple H chuckled lowly beside her. "He always does. The kid's mastered the art of control. He's not even out there for two minutes and the crowd's already his."
Dusty, arms crossed with a proud gleam in his eyes, added softly, "That boy… that boy's the future, bay bay."
Down in the ring, Nic was still grinning, pacing side to side like a caged tiger. He threw a few warm-up jabs into the air, loosening his shoulders, eyes never leaving Sandro as he made his slow, deliberate walk toward the ring.
Sandro took his time, milking the moment. He strutted down the ramp, pausing midway to smirk at a sign that read "FCW IS UNDISPUTED!" He pointed at it mockingly, then to himself, mouthing, "I made that happen." The heat poured on even thicker.
Reaching ringside, he stopped and stared into the hard cam, tapping the replica WWE United States Championship on his shoulder. Then, in one sharp motion, he pointed straight at Nic inside the ring. The gesture was both a challenge and a promise.
As he climbed onto the apron, he paused, gripping the ropes, and looked out at the booing crowd one last time. Then he turned his gaze toward Nic and smirked again. That small expression carried layers: excitement, respect, and the kind of rivalry that only years of shared battles could forge.
Nic, catching it, chuckled under his breath. He knew that look. He knew exactly what kind of match they were about to have.
When Sandro finally stepped through the ropes, the atmosphere tightened, electricity buzzing between them. He handed the United States title to the referee, brushing his fingers over the gold one last time before letting it go. The referee held it high in the air, the crowd roaring at the sight, a WWE title defended inside an FCW ring. It was symbolic, powerful, and historic.
Stephanie whispered under her breath, "This… this is going to make headlines."
The referee handed the belt off to the ringside crew and checked on both men. Sandro rolled his neck, eyes locked on Nic. Nic shook out his hands, grinning from ear to ear. The tension built to a knife's edge.
The referee looked between them, nodded once, and called for the bell.
DING DING DING!
The two men began circling, the crowd chanting "LET'S GO NEMETH!" followed by "SANDRO SUCKS!" a perfect mix of divided loyalties. The sound filled the small arena like a storm.
Nic extended his hand forward, a rare gesture of respect even in a house show setting. "C'mon, man," he said, smiling. "Let's make this one for the books."
Sandro looked down at the offered handshake, expression unreadable. The audience leaned in, holding their breath. For a second, it looked like he'd take it, his hand inching closer, until his smirk curved into something sharper.
Then, in one swift motion, he kicked Nic square in the gut.
The crowd erupted in boos as Nic doubled over. Sandro immediately pounced, hammering down with forearm strikes to the back, driving him toward the ropes. The pace exploded from zero to a hundred in an instant.
Nic stumbled forward, but Sandro whipped him hard into the corner, the turnbuckles rattling on impact. Sandro followed up with a running high knee right to the jaw, then grabbed Nic by the hair and yelled into his face, "Welcome back to developmental, champ!" before slamming him down with a snapmare and delivering a stiff kick to the spine.
The sound echoed through the arena, CRACK!
The fans groaned in unison.
Nic rolled forward, clutching his back, but Sandro stayed on him, methodical and merciless. He stomped on Nic's chest, then dropped a quick elbow across his sternum.
Dusty leaned in, chuckling. "He's in full heel mode tonight. That boy knows how to tell a story."
Steve nodded. "Yeah, but Nemeth ain't gonna take that for long. You watch."
Back in the ring, Sandro dragged Nic to his feet and went for a suplex, but Nic reversed it, floating over midair and landing behind Sandro. Before Sandro could react, Nic hit a quick dropkick to the back of his head, sending him tumbling forward.
The crowd came alive, rallying behind Nemeth.
Sandro got up, rubbing the back of his neck with a sneer. Nic smirked back at him, motioning for him to bring it on.
The two collided in a flurry of counters, chain wrestling at its finest. Armlock into wristlock. Hammerlock reversal. Waistlock takedown. Sandro rolled through and came up behind Nic with a headlock takeover, grounding him. Nic bridged out, twisted his hips, and countered into a headscissors.
The crowd clapped in appreciation of the exchange.
Sandro popped free, both men getting back to their feet, eyes locked. The tension shifted again, now it was fun. Two masters testing each other, seeing who would blink first.
They went for another lock up, but this time Sandro slipped behind Nic, going for a German suplex. Nic elbowed him twice to break free, rebounding off the ropes, only for Sandro to catch him with a sharp knee lift that flipped Nic end over end.
Sandro dropped for a quick cover.
1… 2—kick out!
Sandro didn't waste a second. He dragged Nic up and shoved him chest first into the corner, unleashing a series of rapid chops that echoed like gunshots.
"WOOO!" the crowd reacted with each one.
After the fifth chop, Sandro stepped back, taunting the audience with a mock "woo" of his own, which earned him another round of loud boos.
He turned back toward Nic and got caught off guard by a sudden superkick!
The arena exploded!
Sandro dropped to his knees, dazed. Nic, now fired up, grabbed him by the head and hit a jumping DDT.
He went for the pin!
1… 2… NO!
Sandro kicked out just before three, rolling to his side and clutching his jaw.
Nic climbed to the ropes, rallying the crowd with claps. "Come on, baby, let's go!"
He leapt for a flying crossbody, but Sandro caught him midair, spinning into a tilt a whirl backbreaker!
The crowd gasped.
Sandro covered again, pressing his forearm across Nic's jaw.
1… 2… KICK OUT!
Frustration flickered across Sandro's face. He slammed the mat once, then transitioned into a chinlock, wrenching Nic's neck back. The ref leaned in, checking if Nic wanted to submit.
Nic shook his head, gritting his teeth. "Not today!"
The crowd began clapping in rhythm, trying to will him up. "LET'S GO NEMETH!" clap clap clap clap clap!
Nic slowly pushed to his knees, elbows digging into Sandro's ribs until he broke free. He hit the ropes, ducked a clothesline, rebounded, and nailed Sandro with a jumping neckbreaker!
Both men were down now, the crowd clapping thunderously.
In the booth, Stephanie leaned forward, eyes bright. "They're doing it. They're giving FCW a pay per view level match right here."
Triple H nodded. "That's why I didn't stop him. This, this is what the future looks like."
Back in the ring, Nic was the first to his feet. He fired up, slapping his chest, pointing to Sandro, yelling, "Get up!"
Sandro, staggering, pushed to his feet, only to eat a flurry of punches from Nic, followed by a running clothesline that sent him flipping backward.
Nic climbed the ropes, perching on the top turnbuckle. He waited for Sandro to rise, then dove off, hitting a missile dropkick square to the chest!
1… 2… KICK OUT AGAIN!
The crowd was going insane. Every near fall had them on their feet.
Sandro rolled out of the ring, trying to buy time, clutching his ribs. He leaned against the barricade, breathing heavily. Nic followed him out, grabbing him by the head, but Sandro countered, slamming Nic face first into the steel post.
The sound of the impact echoed.
The boos returned as Sandro slid back into the ring, motioning for the referee to start the count.
The ref began, "ONE!... TWO!... THREE!..."
Nic stirred at five, shaking off the cobwebs, crawling toward the apron. At seven, he managed to pull himself back in, barely breaking the count.
Sandro met him instantly with a flurry of stomps, shouting down at him, "You think this is your show? Huh? You think you're the face of FCW?"
He dragged Nic up, hooked both arms, and nailed a double underhook DDT.
1… 2… Nic kicked out again!
The crowd was in disbelief.
Sandro sat up, sweat glistening, glaring at the referee. "That was three!" he barked. The ref shook his head, holding up two fingers.
Sandro sneered, then turned his focus back to Nic.
He pulled him up slowly, staring into his dazed eyes. "You never beat me when it mattered," he said, just loud enough for the fans at front row to catch.
Nic suddenly came to life, headbutting Sandro!
The crowd erupted!
Both men stumbled back, trading wild punches in the center of the ring, forearms, uppercuts, haymakers. The energy built until they both hit the ropes at the same time, and collided mid ring with a double clothesline!
Both men went down hard, the referee beginning his count as the entire FCW Arena came unglued.
"THIS IS AWESOME!" clap clap clap clap clap!
On the booth, Stephanie, Hunter, Steve, and Dusty all standing now, eyes locked on the ring. Dusty grinned ear to ear. "That's my boys right there. That's the future of this damn business." Both men slowly stirred on the mat, crawling toward opposite corners, the match far from over, but already legendary in the making.
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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
Other Achievements: 1x Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0