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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
As Sandro Zhang marched up the ramp, his queens by his side and his golden armor draped across his shoulders, the message was terrifyingly clear. The Triple Crown Champion was not resting on his laurels. The era of the God King had truly begun, and the ruthless expansion of his empire would spare no one.
But before the God King and his queens could even reach the top of the entrance stage to make their final exit through the curtain, the atmosphere inside the World's Most Famous Arena violently shifted.
The Undisputed System's theme music was abruptly cut off.
In its place, a bizarre, unsettling sound echoed through the massive stadium speakers. It was the sharp, crackling hiss of electrical currents.
The massive Titantron, which had been proudly displaying Sandro's golden graphics just seconds prior, suddenly glitched out. The screen fractured into chaotic static before morphing into a sprawling, mesmerizing display of bright blue and stark white electrical currents, surging and arcing wildly across the LED boards.
The twenty thousand fans packed into Madison Square Garden immediately stopped their booing, a collective murmur of absolute confusion washing over the crowd.
At the commentary desk, the broadcast team was just as bewildered.
"What in the world is going on?" Cole asked, pressing his hand against his headset, trying to get an answer from the production truck. "Have we lost the feed? We've got some sort of electrical interference hijacking the broadcast!"
"I have no idea, Michael, but it's completely killed the God King's exit!" Lawler noted, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes glued to the stage. "Who is coming out? Is this a debut? A return? No one has a clue! But whatever it is, it just completely stole the spotlight from the Triple Crown Champion!"
Halfway up the ramp, Sandro stopped dead in his tracks. The arrogant, untouchable smirk vanished from his face, instantly replaced by a mask of cold, calculating paranoia. He didn't look back at the Titantron, his dark eyes frantically scanned the rafters, the entrance tunnels, and the crowd.
The God King found this sudden, unexplained anomaly deeply suspicious. In his mind, an unannounced interruption was a direct threat to the crown.
Without hesitating, Sandro grabbed AJ Lee and Nikki Bella by the arms, barking a sharp, undeniable command to Alexa Bliss as well. He didn't continue up the ramp into the unknown darkness of the backstage area. Instead, Sandro violently spun around, bringing his queens with him, and marched aggressively back down the ramp.
He slid back under the bottom rope, entering the relative safety of the squared circle, rejoining the rest of the Undisputed System boys and Paul Heyman, who had remained near the ring.
Sandro didn't just stand there, he immediately went into tactical defense mode. He snapped his fingers, pointing to the perimeter.
"Form a wall! Now!" Sandro ordered, his voice cracking like a whip.
Immediately, Big E, Ryback, Wade Barrett, Drew McIntyre, Kofi Kingston, Dolph Ziggler, and Xavier Woods instantly reacted. They formed a tight, 360 degree human barricade around Sandro, Heyman, and the three queens.
The men stood shoulder to shoulder, their massive arms interlocked, facing outward toward the crowd, the ramp, and the announce desk, ready to neutralize any threat that might emerge from the shadows.
The commentary team immediately picked up on the sudden defensive posture.
"Are you kidding me?!" Cole laughed, pointing at the ring. "Look at this! The so called God King is absolutely terrified of a technical glitch! He just tucked his tail between his legs and ran back to his human shield!"
"He looks like a frightened little boy hiding behind his bodyguards!" Lawler mocked, highly amused by the sudden shift in Sandro's demeanor. "So much for being an untouchable, divine ruler. One weird noise on the speakers and he's ordering his men to form a wagon circle!"
JBL slammed his hands down on the commentary desk, his face turning bright red in defense of his idol.
"You two are absolute fools!" JBL roared over the crackling electrical audio. "The God King is not afraid! He is acting with sheer tactical brilliance! Why on earth would the most valuable asset in the entire global industry take the chance of standing out in the open during a bizarre, unscripted anomaly? It's exactly what the Secret Service does for the President! You secure the perimeter! You protect the asset! It's called being smart!"
As the commentary team fiercely debated the champion's courage, the arena lights inside Madison Square Garden suddenly shut off completely.
Madison Square Garden was plunged into absolute, pitch black darkness as the electrical crackling stopped.
The crowd's murmur escalated into a tense, deafening buzz. Eighteen thousand cell phone cameras flickered on, illuminating the dark arena like a sea of fireflies. Inside the ring, the Undisputed System tightened their circle, Sandro holding his black scepter like a weapon, his chest heaving with anticipation.
Ten agonizing seconds passed in the dark. No one moved. No one breathed. The anticipation was an immense, physical weight pressing down on the building.
And then, a voice echoed through the sound system. A voice that had not been heard in a WWE arena in a very, very long time. A line so incredibly iconic that it triggered a seismic event inside the Mecca of sports entertainment.
"IF YOU SMELLLLLLLLLLL..."
The collective intake of breath from Madison Square Garden sucked the oxygen out of the room.
"...WHAT THE ROCK... IS COOKING!"
The explosion of noise that followed was not just loud. It was a physical force. It was the kind of earth shattering, foundation rattling pop that only Madison Square Garden could produce. The sheer volume of the cheers hit the ring like a shockwave.
The stadium lights flared back on in a blinding flash, and the TitanTron instantly shifted from electrical currents to the legendary, charging Brahma Bull video package. The heavy, unmistakable drumbeat and iconic guitar riff of The Rock's entrance theme blasted through the speakers.
At the commentary desk, all three men lost their absolute minds.
"OH MY GOD!" Cole screamed, his voice cracking into a completely unrecognizable pitch, completely abandoning any sense of professional composure. "IT'S HIM! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! I DO NOT BELIEVE IT! HE'S HERE! THE GREAT ONE HAS RETURNED!"
"THE ROOF JUST BLEW OFF MADISON SQUARE GARDEN!" Lawler shrieked, clutching his headset as the noise level physically hurt his ears. "IT HAS BEEN SEVEN YEARS! SEVEN LONG YEARS, MICHAEL! THE GREAT ONE HAS RETURNED!"
Even JBL was stunned into momentary silence, his jaw practically hitting the desk as the realization washed over him.
Inside the ring, the defensive wall of the Undisputed System remained intact, but the expressions on their faces painted a picture of absolute shock. Big E's eyes were wide as saucers. Ryback looked around in sheer disbelief. Paul Heyman's jaw had practically unhinged, his face a portrait of pure, unadulterated terror as he realized the magnitude of the star power that had just eclipsed his client.
But it was Sandro Zhang whose reaction was the most telling. The God King, who just moments ago had held the entire industry in the palm of his hand, turned an ashen, sickly shade of pale.
The anger boiling behind his eyes was matched only by the sheer, undeniable reality that he was suddenly sharing his spotlight with the biggest crossover star the business had ever produced.
The fans were losing their minds, jumping up and down, hugging strangers, screaming with tears in their eyes.
And then, he stepped out from the curtain. The Rock.
The crowd's roar somehow found a higher gear. The Rock stood at the top of the ramp, wearing a black track jacket, sunglasses, and his signature Brahma Bull track pants. He had a microphone securely gripped in his right hand. He didn't rush.
He soaked it in. He slowly removed his sunglasses, looking out over the sea of humanity that was currently losing its collective mind for him. He hit his iconic poses, raising one arm high into the air, soaking in the adulation that he hadn't felt in seven years.
"Listen to this place!" Cole yelled over the deafening noise. "The building is shaking! The Rock has come back to the WWE!"
The Rock slowly walked to the absolute edge of the entrance stage. He didn't walk down the ramp toward the ring. He stopped, planting his feet, and looked down at the terrified, furious members of the Undisputed System.
The fans began a thunderous, rhythmic chant that echoed off the historic ceiling.
"ROCKY! ROCKY! ROCKY! ROCKY!"
The Rock brought the microphone to his lips. He waited for a full minute, letting the chant wash over him, letting the tension in the ring build to a boiling point. Finally, he raised his hand, and the crowd quieted just enough to let him speak.
"Finally..." The Rock bellowed, his voice carrying that unmistakable, electrifying cadence. "...The Rock has come back... to New York!"
The Garden exploded in cheers.
But The Rock held up a finger, shaking his head slightly, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips.
"No, no, no," The Rock corrected himself, his voice softening just a fraction before building back to a crescendo. "Finally... The Rock has come back... HOME!"
Madison Square Garden exploded all over again. The emotional weight of the word "home" struck a chord with every single fan who had grown up watching the Attitude Era icon.
The Rock then began paced back and forth on the stage, his eyes locking onto Sandro Zhang. "The Rock was sitting in the back, minding his own business, enjoying a little New Year's Eve celebration with the locker room, when he heard a whole lot of garbage coming out of a whole lot of mouths out here in the middle of The Rock's ring!"
Before The Rock could continue his legendary trash talk, a screeching, indignant voice echoed from inside the ring.
Paul Heyman had scrambled across the canvas and picked up the microphone that Sandro had dropped earlier. The Speaker was absolutely livid, his face flushed red, furious that this Hollywood interloper was stealing the God King's thunder.
"Excuse me! Excuse me, Mr. Johnson!" Heyman shrieked into the mic, intentionally using The Rock's real name in a pathetic attempt to disrespect him. "Yes, yes, we all see you! It is so very good to see you back here in the WWE, Dwayne! But let me let you in on a little secret, absolutely no one in this ring, and no one of consequence in this industry, cares about you anymore!"
The crowd instantly showered Heyman with a deafening wave of boos, chanting "ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!" but Heyman pushed through it, pointing a trembling finger up at the stage.
"You are an old relic! You are a ghost from a bygone era!" Heyman yelled, stepping in front of Sandro as if to shield him from The Rock's aura. "How dare you? How dare you interrupt the sacred, televised time of the God King himself?! You are looking at a champion, a triple crowned monarch, and a superstar that is infinitely better than you ever were in your prime, let alone right now as a washed up actor!"
The fans booed Heyman so loudly the audio system struggled to keep up.
On the stage, The Rock didn't look angry. The Rock simply lowered his microphone, tilting his head to the side, looking at Heyman as if examining a particularly disgusting insect that had just crawled out of a sewer.
He let the boos wash over Heyman for a few moments before slowly he raised his microphone back to his lips.
"Well, well, well. Hello there, Heyman," The Rock said smoothly, his tone dripping with effortless swagger. "Long time no see. You know, The Rock was sitting in the back, watching the monitor, and he thought to himself... man, it looks like some things never change."
The Rock took a step forward, adjusting himself.
"Because seven years ago, you were nothing but a sweaty, balding lackey... and a little bitch to other people," The Rock declared, his voice echoing loudly. "And look at you now! You're still a sweaty, balding lackey... and you're still a little bitch!"
Madison Square Garden erupted into absolute hysterics. The fans laughed so hard the building shook. At the commentary desk, Cole and Lawler were practically in tears.
"He said it! The Rock just said it!" Cole howled with laughter. "He hasn't lost a single step!"
"That is the greatest description of Paul Heyman I have ever heard!" Lawler wheezed.
JBL, however, was absolutely irate. He stood up, throwing his pen at the monitor. "This is unacceptable! That is blatant disrespect to the Special Advisor of the God King! He demands respect! This Hollywood elitist has no right to speak to him that way! The Rock should be fined! He should be thrown out of the building!"
In the ring, Heyman's face turned an apoplectic shade of purple. He was hyperventilating, gripping the microphone so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"You listen to me, you arrogant, egomaniacal movie star!" Heyman screamed, spit flying from his lips. "You do not speak to me that way! I am the architect of the Undisputed System! I guide the career of the most lethal, decorated champion in history! My intellect, my strategy, my brilliant mind—"
"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU THINK!" The Rock roared, hitting his iconic catchphrase with absolutely perfect timing, cutting Heyman off entirely.
The crowd roared in unison with him. Heyman looked like he was about to have a legitimate heart attack. He lowered the microphone, clutching his chest, completely emasculated.
Before Heyman could try to recover, a gloved hand suddenly reached out and snatched the microphone directly out of his grip.
It was Sandro Zhang.
The God King pushed Heyman aside. He stepped through the defensive wall of his enforcers, standing at the absolute front of the ring, staring up at the entrance stage. The temperature in the arena seemed to plummet. Sandro's dark eyes were locked in a dead, soulless stare with The Great One.
The crowd went quiet, sensing the massive, generational shift in the confrontation. The undisputed ruler of the modern era was finally going toe to toe with the Mount Rushmore icon of the past.
"Welcome back, Dwayne," Sandro said, his voice terrifyingly calm, smooth, and completely devoid of the panic he had shown moments earlier. The God King had regained his composure. "It's truly a heartwarming moment. The prodigal son returns to the Garden."
Sandro slowly paced along the ropes, tapping his black scepter against the top turnbuckle.
"It's nice of you to take a break from making terrible, second rate family comedies to come back and visit the house that I currently own," Sandro mocked, pacing slowly along the ring ropes. "But let's get one thing perfectly clear. You didn't come back 'home.' You came back to a museum. You are a tourist. You stand up there, wearing your expensive sunglasses, spouting your tired, ten year old catchphrases to these mindless sheep, desperately trying to cling to a relevance that evaporated the second I won my first championship."
Sandro stopped, pointing the scepter directly at The Rock's chest.
"I don't respect you," Sandro stated bluntly, the venom dripping from every syllable. "I despise you. I despise everything you represent. You are a part time actor pretending to be a wrestler. I am a full time God pretending to be a mortal. I hold the WWE Championship. I hold the United States Championship. I hold the World Heavyweight Championship. So take your little stroll down memory lane, soak in the cheers, and then get the hell off my stage before I send my enforcers up there to break your jaw."
The crowd booed the sheer arrogance of the Triple Crown Champion, but there was an undeniable weight to his words. Sandro was a master of the microphone, and he had just delivered a blistering, deeply personal reality check.
But The Rock was not CM Punk. The Rock was not John Cena. The Rock was arguably the greatest talker in the history of the business, and he fed off the hostility like oxygen. "Sandro is not backing down an inch!" Cole whispered, genuinely impressed. "He is going toe to toe with one of the greatest talkers in the history of the business!"
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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: 1 - 0