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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
The God King had survived the Chamber. The empire was fractured, the rebellion was knocking at the gates, and WrestleMania was looming on the horizon. The entire professional wrestling world held its collective breath, waiting to hear exactly how the most dangerous entity on the face of the earth was going to respond.
The heavy, metallic thud of the microphone settling into Sandro's palm echoed through the PA system, sending an immediate, chilling hush over the eighteen thousand fans in the Oracle Arena. The God King slowly raised the microphone to his lips, his bruised face entirely devoid of emotion, his eyes completely dead as they swept across the sea of hostility.
"I have stood in this ring," Sandro began, his voice dangerously low, a smooth, calculated baritone that commanded absolute, terrified silence. "I have stood on television screens across the globe, and I have told you, time and time again, exactly who I am. I have proven it. I have etched it into the history books with the blood of your favorite legends. I am not just the Triple Crown Champion. I am the absolute zenith of this industry. I am the apex predator of professional wrestling. And last night, inside the Devil's Playground, I proved that no one... absolutely no one... is on my level."
Sandro took a slow step forward, the three massive gold championships draped across his tailored suit catching the stark arena lighting.
"I am inevitable," Sandro stated, the word hanging heavy in the air. "I could never be defeated. I certainly could never be defeated by the likes of desperate, pathetic nostalgia acts like Dwayne Johnson and Randy Savage."
The crowd immediately unleashed a torrent of boos at the mention of the two beloved icons, but Sandro didn't even blink. He simply tilted his head, a condescending smirk touching the corners of his mouth.
"The mathematics of the Elimination Chamber were entirely against me," Sandro continued, his tone dripping with arrogant superiority. "The odds were completely stacked in their favor. The Rock and the Macho Man found themselves locked inside a steel cage with the man they despise more than anyone else on the face of the earth. They had the opportunity. They had the numbers alongside Cena, Miz, and Del Rio. If they possessed even a fraction of my intellect, they would have called a temporary truce. They would have teamed up, isolated the God King, and eliminated me first. It is exactly what I would have done. But they didn't."
Sandro let out a cold, sharp laugh that echoed through the building.
"And why didn't they?" Sandro asked rhetorically, pacing slowly across the entrance stage. "Because they are driven by ego. They are driven by the pathetic need to be the hero. No one worked together to take me down when they had the absolute perfect chance, and that singular, glaring failure proves one undeniable fact, not a single man in that locker room possesses the same level of in ring IQ and psychological mastery as I do. I am playing chess while they are all choking on the checkers."
"He is absolutely right!" JBL cheered on the commentary desk, his voice booming over the broadcast. "Sandro Zhang outsmarted two of the greatest of all time alongside the the others! He used their own massive egos against them! That is why he is the Triple Crown Champion!"
Behind Sandro, Paul Heyman, holding his own microphone, began to clap enthusiastically. The Queens of the Undisputed System, AJ Lee, Nikki Bella, and Alexa Bliss, joined in, clapping their hands with rapid, sycophantic praise. Big E, Ryback, Dolph Ziggler, and Xavier Woods followed suit, their applause echoing across the stage.
But standing on the far left side of the formation, Wade Barrett, Drew McIntyre, and Kofi Kingston shifted uncomfortably. Their applause was slow, hesitant, and visibly awkward. Wade and Drew were consumed by the shame of losing their WWE Tag Team Championships to Rated RKO the previous night, and Kofi Kingston's jaw still throbbed from the devastating Go To Sleep he had suffered at the hands of CM Punk just an hour prior. They clapped, but their eyes were cast downward, terrified of drawing the God King's attention.
Sandro Zhang ignored their hesitation. He turned his attention back to the massive, sprawling crowd, sweeping his gaze across the steep tiers of the Oracle Arena.
"I hear your boos," Sandro sneered, his voice dripping with pure, unadulterated contempt. "I hear your pathetic, unified whining. I see your little cardboard signs. And I see every single one of your stupid, irrelevant little comments on Twitter and the internet. You sit behind your screens, crying about how the Undisputed System is ruining your childhoods, begging for someone to come and save you from the Triple Crown Era."
Sandro tapped the World Heavyweight Championship around his waist.
"I do not care what you think," Sandro declared, his voice rising in volume and intensity. "Your opinions are entirely worthless to me. I am untouchable in this ring, and I am untouchable in reality. Even if I wasn't the son of the CEO of Nexum Core, even if I wasn't sitting firmly in the top one percent of the global elite, a level of wealth and power that the absolute dregs of society sitting in this arena will never, ever comprehend, I would still be the undisputed number one in this industry simply because of how damn good I am! There is absolutely nothing you can do, and nothing your pathetic legends can do, to ever change that reality!"
The boos from the Oakland crowd reached a fever pitch, a deafening wall of sound that physically shook the arena.
"Sandro Zhang is laying down absolute scorched earth!" Cole yelled, struggling to be heard over the fans. "He is insulting the entire WWE Universe!"
"He's telling the truth, Michael!" JBL argued violently. "He is a billionaire prodigy and a wrestling savant! The fans just hate him because they know they will never be him!"
Sandro stood at the edge of the stage, absorbing the hatred, thriving on the venom. He took a deep breath, raising the microphone to his lips once again.
"But..."
The single word fell from Sandro Zhang's mouth like a lead weight.
It wasn't shouted. It wasn't screamed. It was spoken with a low, terrifying, razor sharp edge that instantly sliced through the deafening noise of the arena.
The reaction was instantaneous. The eighteen thousand fans in the Oracle Arena abruptly hushed, the massive wall of boos dissolving into a tense, buzzing murmur. On the commentary desk, Cole, Lawler, and JBL went completely silent, recognizing the drastic, terrifying shift in the atmosphere.
Behind the God King, the entire Undisputed System stiffened. Paul Heyman's enthusiastic clapping instantly ceased. The Queens stopped smiling. Big E and Ryback stood at rigid attention.
Sandro Zhang's tone had fundamentally changed. The arrogant, untouchable braggadocio was completely gone. It was replaced by a dark, volatile mixture of pure, seething anger and profound, sickening disappointment.
Sandro slowly, methodically turned around. He turned his back on the WWE Universe and faced his own empire. His cold, dead eyes swept past Heyman, past the Queens, past Big E and Ryback, and locked directly onto the disgraced trio standing on the left flank.
Wade Barrett. Drew McIntyre. Kofi Kingston. The three men visibly swallowed, the color completely draining from their faces.
"But..." Sandro repeated, his voice vibrating with barely contained fury as he took a slow, deliberate step toward them. "...all of that reputation. All of that untouchable greatness that I have built with my own two hands... was completely and utterly tarnished last Monday. It was tarnished last night. And it was tarnished again earlier today."
Sandro stopped pacing, standing directly in front of Wade Barrett. The bare knuckle brawler, a man who had intimidated the entire locker room for years, physically shrunk under the God King's gaze.
"I have had enough of defeats from my own family," Sandro hissed, the microphone picking up every venomous syllable. "Not only did you lose that massive fourteen man tag team match last week, a complete and utter disgrace that forced me to watch my own men get pinned in the center of the ring by a geriatric relic, but you compounded that failure. You lost the WWE Tag Team Championships to Edge and Randy Orton. And you..."
Sandro snapped his head toward Kofi Kingston, his eyes narrowing into furious slits.
"...got your ass beaten by CM Punk."
Sandro spat the name CM Punk with so much concentrated venom that Kofi physically flinched.
"This is unraveling right before our eyes," Cole whispered on commentary, absolute shock evident in his voice. "Sandro Zhang is dressing down his own faction on live television."
"This is exactly what a true leader has to do!" JBL argued, though his voice lacked its usual booming confidence, betraying his own anxiety. "He has to demand accountability!"
Sandro turned his back on the three men, pacing frantically back and forth across the stage, the anger bubbling up to the surface.
"I elevated you!" Sandro screamed, his voice suddenly echoing with terrifying volume through the entire arena. "I pulled you from the absolute dregs of Florida Championship Wrestling! I took you out of the swamp of developmental before it was even called NXT! You were unknowns! You were absolute nobodies! You were entirely relegated to the background, begging for television time, begging for a single scrap of relevance!"
Sandro spun back around, pointing a furious, trembling finger at Wade and Drew.
"I gave you the spotlight!" Sandro roared, his voice cracking with the sheer force of his rage. "I gave you the resources of Nexum Core! I gave you the protection of the Undisputed System! And most importantly, I draped your pathetic, unworthy waists in championship gold! I made you kings! And this... this absolute, humiliating failure... is how you repay me?!"
The sheer volume and intensity of Sandro's outburst cracked like a whip through the Oracle Arena. The fans, completely stunned by the violent internal fracture of the most dominant faction in history, sat in absolute, breathless silence. Nobody expected the God King to completely lose control of his composure.
Wade Barrett kept his eyes glued to the steel floor grating. Drew McIntyre clenched his massive jaw, trembling with a mixture of shame and anger. Kofi Kingston looked like he wanted the stage to open up and swallow him whole.
Paul Heyman, sweating profusely, realizing that his God King was teetering on the edge of a complete psychological meltdown, nervously stepped forward. He clutched his microphone with both hands, his voice trembling as he tried to defuse the ticking time bomb.
"My... my God King, please," Heyman stammered, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "Please, I beg of you, calm your brilliant mind. All is not lost. All of it... all of it can still be taken back. The WWE Tag Team titles, the Intercontinental title... we have the corporate leverage. We have the mandatory rematch clauses, my liege. Those clauses will be executed at WrestleMania, just three weeks from now. We can retreat to the boardroom. We can formulate new strategies. We can ensure that every single piece of gold is taken back by the family..."
Sandro Zhang slowly turned his head, his eyes locking onto his Special Advisor. The look of pure, unadulterated sociopathic hatred on Sandro's face made Heyman instantly regret opening his mouth.
"I DO NOT CARE ABOUT REMATCH CLAUSES!" Sandro violently screamed, stepping directly into Paul Heyman's personal space, forcing the portly manager to stumble backward in sheer terror.
"I do not care about your pathetic strategies!" Sandro continued to roar, entirely losing his grip on his usually icy demeanor. "I have given chance after chance after chance! I have tolerated failure after failure!"
Sandro began pacing again, his movements becoming increasingly erratic, his arms waving wildly as he began to list the faction's sins to the entire world.
"I forgave it when Dolph Ziggler lost his NXT Championship in the past!" Sandro shouted, pointing a furious finger at the Showoff, who immediately dropped his head. "I forgave it when Kofi Kingston allowed Sheamus to rip the Intercontinental Championship away from this family! I forgave the absolute embarrassment of losing that seven on seven tag team match last week!"
Sandro stopped pacing, clutching his own head, his chest heaving as he stared into the hard camera.
"And then last night happens," Sandro seethed, his voice dropping back into a dangerous, erratic whisper. "Wade and Drew lose the WWE Tag Team titles. And then, just hours ago, Kofi Kingston gets his ass beaten by CM Punk all over again."
Sandro turned back to the entire faction, throwing his arms wide open in a gesture of absolute, furious disbelief.
"What is the one thing... the ONE single thing... this entire faction has done right in the last month?!" Sandro demanded. "Dolph Ziggler and Xavier Woods crawling down to developmental and stealing the NXT Tag Team titles?! Is that it?! Is that supposed to be enough to redeem all of these catastrophic, humiliating failures on the main roster?!"
Sandro stepped forward, grabbing Paul Heyman violently by the lapels of his expensive suit, pulling the terrified general manager inches from his face.
"Tell me, Speaker!" Sandro demanded, his voice entirely unhinged. "Tell me right now! Can they repay me after all of this?! Can they ever wash the stain of this failure off my empire?!"
Heyman was completely paralyzed with fear. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He just stuttered, his eyes wide, completely unable to form a coherent sentence while trapped in the grasp of the furious God King.
The entire arena was dead silent. The rest of the Undisputed System, Big E, Ryback, Ziggler, Woods, Barrett, McIntyre, and Kingston, were completely frozen in place. They were terrifyingly aware that any sudden movement, any attempt to intervene, would likely result in their immediate, violent excommunication from the faction.
"He has completely lost his mind," Lawler whispered on commentary, genuinely shocked by the display. "Sandro Zhang is having a complete mental breakdown on live television."
"Heavy is the head that wears the crown, King," JBL replied softly, offering no defense for the God King's erratic behavior.
With Heyman completely useless, and the enforcers too terrified to move, only the Queens of the Undisputed System dared to cross the line.
AJ Lee, flanked closely by Nikki Bella and Alexa Bliss, slowly, carefully stepped forward. She didn't look afraid. She looked at Sandro with a mixture of deep, twisted affection and calculated control.
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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