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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!"
McIntyre answered, pulling Kane's leg out from under him, dragging him down to the mat and stomping viciously. Barrett followed, driving knees into Kane's ribs, the two of them trying desperately to neutralize the monster before he could rise again.
Undertaker turned.
That was a mistake.
The Deadman's eyes locked on them.
He stepped over Jericho's fallen body and advanced, boots heavy, presence suffocating. McIntyre turned too late, Undertaker grabbed him by the throat and slammed him down with a chokeslam that shook the ring. Barrett tried to swing—
Big boot.
Barrett flipped inside out.
"This is absolute chaos!" Lawler shouted. "No one can control this!"
And then, slipping through the carnage like a rat through fire—
Paul Heyman ran.
Heyman who was already on the ring side, clutching his microphone to his chest like a lifeline, eyes wide with panic. He didn't look back. He sprinted up the ramp, yelling frantically at ringside crew, at referees, at anyone he could find.
"GET SECURITY! GET ALL OF THEM!"
The camera caught him disappearing backstage, his polished composure shattered, survival taking priority over strategy.
Left behind by Heyman on ringside, Alexa Bliss hesitated, torn between following Heyman and diving into the fight.
She didn't get the chance.
Nikki Bella exploded out from the side of the stage and tackled Alexa from behind, sending both women tumbling hard onto the steel. Brie Bella followed instantly, stomping down with fury, screaming as she swung with everything she had.
AJ Lee came flying in next, dropkicking Alexa square in the side of the head, the crowd roaring as the women's division erupted into its own war zone.
Alexa screamed, scrambling to her feet, lashing out wildly, catching Nikki with a forearm and shoving Brie backward. AJ grabbed Alexa by the hair, yanking her down and unloading rapid fire strikes, the three of them rolling across the stage in a violent tangle.
"IT'S EVERYWHERE!" Cole shouted. "THIS HAS SPREAD TO THE STAGE!"
Back in the ring, chairs had entered the equation.
Christian cracked one across McIntyre's back. Kofi smashed another into R-Truth's ribs. Morrison took out Barrett with a flying knee from the apron.
Kane sat up, eyes blazing, shrugging off punishment as he rose to his feet again, drawing a massive roar from the crowd.
Sandro saw the tide turning.
For the first time all night, calculation replaced arrogance.
He shoved Triple H away, ducked a swinging right hand, and slipped between bodies, dropping to the mat and rolling under the bottom rope. He hit the floor hard, scrambling to his feet as boos poured down on him.
"LOOK AT THIS!" Lawler yelled. "SANDRO IS BAILING!"
Sandro didn't look back.
He sprinted up the ramp, not looking back, clutching his titles as he fled the battlefield he had helped create.
On the stage, the women's brawl raged.
Nikki and Brie had Alexa cornered, AJ laughing hysterically as she stomped away. Alexa was bruised, furious, but still defiant, swinging wildly to create space—
And then Sandro arrived.
The moment he reached the stage, he didn't hesitate.
He blasted AJ Lee with a superkick out of nowhere, dropping her instantly. Nikki turned just in time to eat another superkick, collapsing beside her. Brie rushed him—
And Sandro spun and annihilated her with a discus clothesline that flipped her inside out, sending her skidding across the stage.
The boos were nuclear.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Cole shouted. "HE JUST LAID OUT THREE WOMEN!"
"What the hell is wrong with him?!" Lawler was disgusted. "That's crossing a line!"
Sandro stood over the fallen women, chest heaving, eyes cold, completely unrepentant. Alexa pulled herself up, clutching her title again, holding Sandro's arm, fury and relief etched across her face.
Sandro wrapped an arm around her protectively, glaring back toward the ring as security finally began to pour out from backstage.
Dozens of guards flooded the ramp, sliding into the ring, prying bodies apart, desperately trying to restore order as fists still flew, as men screamed and fought against restraint.
Undertaker was still standing, chest heaving, eyes locked on Sandro up the ramp.
Triple H tore free from two guards, pointing directly at him.
"This isn't over!" Triple H screamed.
"This is total anarchy!" Cole said breathlessly. "Security is everywhere!"
Slowly, painfully, the brawl began to break apart.
Sandro backed up to the inside of the entrance stage with Alexa, raising his titles defiantly despite the hatred raining down on him.
The Undisputed System regrouped behind him, battered but standing, protected by a wall of security.
The locker room stood tall in the ring, bruised, exhausted, but united, staring after the retreating champions.
"This isn't over," Lawler said grimly. "Not by a long shot."
Sandro stopped at the edge of the entrance stage and turned back one last time.
For a moment, the chaos behind him seemed to freeze in his mind, the ring littered with exhausted bodies, security struggling to hold back legends and monsters alike, the locker room united in defiance.
Undertaker stood tall at the center of it all, chest rising and falling, eyes burning holes straight through him. Triple H was still straining against security, veins bulging as he screamed threats that echoed even through the roar of the crowd.
Sandro didn't say a word.
He simply stared.
Cold. Calculated. Unmoved.
Then he raised the WWE Championship one final time, just enough for everyone to see it glint beneath the lights, pulled Alexa closer to his side, and disappeared through the curtain as the boos chased him into the darkness.
The opening of Monday Night RAW had detonated like a bomb.
And nothing that followed could truly top it.
The show went on, because it had to.
Matches were announced. Entrances were made. Promos were cut. Backstage interviews tried desperately to reset the tone, to remind everyone that RAW was still a wrestling show and not a war zone.
But the crowd never fully settled.
The energy was different now. Muted. Uneasy.
The first match of the night got polite reactions. The second got slightly more. A solid mid card bout even earned a "This is awesome" chant, but it faded quickly, swallowed by the lingering adrenaline from the opening segment. Fans were still buzzing, still replaying the images in their minds, Sandro standing tall, the locker room erupting, security flooding the ring.
Cole acknowledged it openly midway through the show.
"You can feel it, King," he said. "The entire landscape of this company shifted tonight."
Lawler nodded. "That opening segment? That wasn't just a promo. That was a statement. And everything else tonight is living in its shadow."
Ratings reflected it almost immediately. Viewership dipped slightly as the hours went on, social media engagement spiking only when Sandro or the Undisputed System were mentioned. It was unintentional proof of what everyone already knew.
Like it or not, Sandro and the Undisputed System were the gravitational center of WWE now.
Then, just when the show felt like it was coasting toward a normal main event…
The lights dimmed.
The familiar, authoritative theme hit.
Mr. McMahon appeared on the TitanTron.
The arena erupted.
Vince stood in his office, hands clasped behind his back, eyes sharp, that unmistakable grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He waited for the crowd to settle, enjoying the power of the moment.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Vince began, his voice cutting through the noise, "after what we witnessed earlier tonight… it's clear that the WWE Championship picture needs clarity."
Cheers.
"Chaos has ruled this show. Arrogance has ruled this company. And one man believes he stands above everyone else."
The boos thundered at the implication.
"So," Vince continued, "at Hell in a Cell, three weeks from tonight… the WWE Champion, Sandro Zhang, will defend his title."
The crowd buzzed.
"And his challenger," Vince said, smiling wider now, "will be decided… tonight."
The reaction exploded.
"In tonight's main event," Vince declared, "there will be a FIFTEEN MAN Battle Royal. The winner becomes the number one contender and faces Sandro Zhang for the WWE Championship… inside HELL IN A CELL."
The arena went nuclear.
Cole was shouting before Vince even finished. "Are you kidding me?! A Hell in a Cell match for the WWE Championship?!"
Lawler laughed in disbelief. "Mr. McMahon just threw gasoline on an already raging fire!"
Vince nodded once, satisfied. "Gentlemen… may the best man win."
The TitanTron went dark.
And the energy snapped back into the building like a lightning strike.
Backstage, the camera cut abruptly to the Undisputed System's private locker room.
The contrast was immediate.
Sandro sat on the main leather sofa, both championships laid carefully beside him, Alexa Bliss seated close, one arm wrapped around his. Paul Heyman sat across from him, posture tense for once, hands clasped nervously.
The rest of the Undisputed System were scattered around the room, some standing, some pacing, some slumped against lockers, all visibly battered from the earlier war.
When Vince's announcement replayed on the monitor, Sandro's jaw tightened.
Then he exploded.
He surged to his feet and kicked the table in front of him, sending cups, bottles, and papers flying across the room.
"WHAT IS THIS?" Sandro snapped, spinning toward Heyman. "WHY WAS I NOT NOTIFIED?"
Heyman raised his hands defensively, stuttering for a moment. "My Maestro, I... this wasn't cleared through me. Vince… Vince did this on his own. Completely. No consultation. No warning."
"That old man thinks he's clever," Sandro growled.
Around the room, anger boiled over.
Barrett punched a locker. McIntyre swore under his breath, pacing like a caged animal. Big E shook his head in disbelief while Ryback snarled, cracking his knuckles. Kofi slammed his fist into the wall. Ziggler looked furious, jaw clenched, eyes darting between the screen and Sandro.
Only Jericho remained calm, arms crossed, expression unreadable, but even his eyes betrayed irritation.
The fans at home cheered loudly at the sight.
For once, Sandro wasn't in control.
The TitanTron cut away, returning to the arena, where the ring was already filling for the main event.
Fifteen men.
Fifteen careers.
One opportunity.
The names alone sent electricity through the building.
Kane.
Undertaker.
Christian.
Rey Mysterio.
R-Truth.
John Morrison.
Big Show.
Triple H.
Sheamus.
Mark Henry.
John Cena.
Randy Orton.
Batista.
Edge.
CM Punk.
Cole was almost giddy. "Look at this ring! This is stacked! This might be the most loaded battle royal in RAW history!"
Lawler nodded. "And notice something, Cole? Almost every single man in that ring has history, bad blood, with Sandro and the Undisputed System."
The bell rang.
And all hell broke loose again.
No alliances. No hesitation.
Cena went straight after Batista, the two powerhouses colliding center ring. Orton stalked CM Punk, trading sharp strikes with surgical precision. Edge and Christian found themselves face to face, a moment of hesitation, then fists.
Kane and Big Show immediately squared up, the ring trembling as they traded shots. Sheamus flew into Triple H with reckless abandon. Mark Henry steamrolled R-Truth into the corner.
Bodies crashed. Ropes shook. The crowd was deafening.
The first elimination came fast.
Morrison tried to springboard, but Orton caught him mid motion with an RKO out of nowhere, rolling him straight over the top rope.
The crowd erupted.
Rey Mysterio lasted longer, weaving through chaos, nearly eliminating Punk before Edge blindsided him. Rey fought back, clinging to the ropes, but Batista charged and sent him flying to the floor.
Christian was eliminated moments later after Cena hoisted him up and dumped him out with brute force.
The ring thinned, but the intensity never dipped.
Kane eliminated Big Show with help from Henry, only for Henry to turn on Kane seconds later. Undertaker stepped in, leveling Henry with a boot and teaming briefly with Kane to eliminate the World's Strongest Man.
One by one, the bodies fell.
Batista eliminated Edge. Punk eliminated Batista. Triple H eliminated Punk.
The crowd was on its feet.
Eventually, only five remained.
Undertaker.
John Cena.
Randy Orton.
Triple H.
Mark Henry, no, eliminated moments later by a combined effort.
And then—
Sheamus.
The Celtic Warrior stood among legends, chest heaving, eyes wild, the crowd stunned.
Cole shouted, "SHEAMUS IS STILL IN THIS?!"
Lawler was shocked. "He's outlasting everybody!"
The final five circled each other, exhausted, dangerous.
Cena and Orton locked eyes.
Undertaker loomed facing Triple H.
As for Sheamus, he cracked his neck.
The battle royal had become something else entirely. An instant classic, and somewhere backstage, Sandro watched. Knowing that whoever survived… was coming for him.
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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
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0