If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
___________________________
Sandro's voice grew darker. "You think this is about fair play? You think standing at ringside is gonna save them? You're dead wrong. Because at Over The Limit, we're taking everything. Those titles," he pointed at Cryme Tyme, then at Kelly, "all of them belong to the Undisputed System. And when it's over, when we walk out draped in gold, there won't be anything you can do to stop it."
He paused, then let that cruel smirk return.
"Not you, not Cryme Tyme, not Kelly Kelly, and sure as hell not these sick, pathetic people of Detroit."
The arena erupted in an avalanche of boos. Fans screamed in outrage, some even throwing popcorn and soda toward the ramp.
Cole could barely be heard over the noise. "Oh, come on! That's disgusting!"
Lawler shouted, "He's gone too far once again, Cole! That's crossing the line!"
In the ring, JTG and Shad stepped forward, both pointing toward the screen, shouting inaudibly but clearly fired up. Kelly stood between them, clutching her title tightly against her chest, her jaw set, eyes burning with determination.
Heyman, from the stage, didn't move an inch. He just stared up at the screen, his expression unreadable, not angry, not shaken, but calculating.
Then, after a few long seconds, the titantron abruptly cut to black, leaving the arena in a storm of noise, chants of "CRYME TYME!" and "KELLY KELLY!" echoing as the camera panned across the fired-up Detroit crowd.
Cole summed it up perfectly. "What a statement made tonight! Cryme Tyme and Kelly Kelly are united. Paul Heyman is laying down the law. But Sandro and the Undisputed System… they're promising total domination. This Saturday, at Over The Limit, it's going to be war."
Lawler added, his voice tinged with excitement, "And you can bet Sandro's not done yet. When he makes threats like that, he always backs them up in the ring. But Cole, I've got a feeling this time… he might finally met his match."
The camera zoomed back in on the ring one last time, Cryme Tyme and Kelly Kelly standing tall, their titles raised high, a united front ready for the biggest fight of their careers. The lights glimmered off the gold as the crowd's chants swelled to a fever pitch.
As the show cut to commercial, the camera lingered on the image of the three champions standing united in the center of the ring, gold gleaming under the lights, the Detroit crowd behind them roaring in defiance of Sandro Zhang and his empire of dominance.
Meanwhile, after that fiery segment with Cryme Tyme, Kelly Kelly, Paul Heyman, and the Undisputed System, the show continued to roll on, match after match lighting up the night, each one trying to follow the storm that had just shaken the arena.
The energy inside Detroit's Arena hadn't died down, if anything, it seemed to grow with each passing moment. Fans were still buzzing, still chanting bits of what they'd just seen, "CRYME TYME!" echoing down the corridors, "HEYMAN! HEYMAN!" ringing through the stands.
Backstage, the tension was still thick. The Undisputed System had retreated to their private locker room, Sandro still visibly irritated but composed, pacing with the United States title slung over his shoulder.
Meanwhile, Cryme Tyme and Kelly Kelly were seen laughing with Heyman, the mood lighter, at least for now. But everyone knew the war wasn't over. The real battle was coming at Over The Limit, and the fuse had just been lit.
As the night wore on, several matches played out, a mix of young talent and veterans giving their all, promos sprinkled in between, setting the tone for the main event.
The Detroit crowd got to see some high octane action, some of the more agile wrestlers stealing the show in a fast paced bout, The Miz cutting one of his typical arrogant promos backstage, and even a quick segkent between Big E and Ryback as they prepared mentally for their upcoming title opportunity.
But through it all, one match remained on everyone's mind, the main event for the WWE Championship.
When the lights dimmed and the production crew reset the ring, the air inside the arena began to shift. The crowd started to stir, murmurs rippling as the camera cut to the commentary desk. Cole straightened his tie and leaned in, his voice filled with anticipation.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for our main event, the WWE Championship match!"
Lawler grinned, his tone full of energy. "Oh, I can feel it, Cole! This one's gonna be big, John Cena versus Randy Orton! Two of the very best this business has ever seen!"
The crowd erupted into a roar as "My Time Is Now" hit the speakers, that unmistakable beat thundering through the arena. The fans rose to their feet, waving signs that read 'Never Give Up', 'Champ is Here', and 'Let's Go Cena!' in bright, bold letters.
John Cena burst through the curtain with his signature swagger, a smile on his face and the WWE Championship gleaming around his waist. He saluted the crowd, then sprinted down the ramp full of energy, sliding under the bottom rope into the ring. He tossed his hat into the crowd and ripped off his shirt, flexing for the fans before climbing the turnbuckle and raising the title high above his head.
The camera zoomed in on the gold as Cena shouted out to the fans, "This is for you, Detroit!" The response was deafening, an eruption of cheers that nearly drowned out the music.
Cole couldn't help himself. "Listen to this crowd, King! The WWE Champion is in the building, John Cena looks ready for a fight tonight!"
Lawler laughed. "He always does, Cole! But he's got a thirsty competitor waiting for him on the other side!"
Right after that, on cue, the Big Show's entrance theme "Crank It Up" punched through the speakers like a cannon blast. The entire arena rattled. Detroit instantly erupted into a tidal wave of boos, loud and vicious, a wall of hatred directed straight at the stage.
A burst of pyro shot up from both sides of the ramp.
And then he appeared.
The World's Largest Athlete, the mountain of a man, the walking skyscraper himself, Big Show, stepped out through the curtain with that cold, almost bored stare carved into his face. He looked even bigger under the blinding arena lights, his massive shadow stretching across the stage as he paused and slowly scanned the fans around the stadium.
He didn't smile. He didn't react. He just glared, soaking in the heat as if the hatred fed him.
Then Big Show turned his gaze downward, locking eyes with John Cena, who stood in the ring waiting for him.
Cena didn't flinch. Show didn't blink.
It was predator and prey. Or prey and predator. Nobody in the arena could even decide which one was which.
Big Show began the march down the ramp, each step echoing like thunder, his boots hitting the floor with a weight that made the ramp vibrate. Fans leaned over the barricades, screaming in his face, flipping him off, waving Cena towels, telling him he didn't belong in a WWE Championship match.
He ignored every single one of them.
Halfway down the ramp, he raised his chin, rolled his giant shoulders, and cracked his neck to each side, never breaking eye contact with Cena, who stood still, jaw tight, fingers flexing around his wristbands.
Big Show reached ringside, lifted one massive hand, and climbed onto the apron with ease. Then, with a single, effortless swing of his leg, he stepped over the top rope, entering the ring in a way no man his size should move.
He lumbered into his corner, turned, and just stared at Cena.
Stared at him like Cena was meat. Like Cena was dinner. Like Cena was the reason he woke up this morning.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Justin Roberts raised the microphone, his voice booming. "The following contest is scheduled for one fall… and it is for the WWE Championship!"
The crowd roared with excitement, not because they wanted Big Show, but because they knew they were about to witness something massive.
Roberts lifted his free hand toward the challenger. "Introducing first… the challenger… from Tampa, Florida… weighing in at 485 pounds… THE WORLD'S LARGEST ATHLETE, BIG SHOW!"
The reaction was instant and venomous.
An avalanche of boos crashed through the arena.
Big Show lifted his enormous right hand high into the air, shouting toward the crowd, a deep bellow that echoed across the stadium. Then he turned his head, pointed at Cena, and mouthed clearly:
"I'm taking your title."
Cena rolled his shoulders, keeping his cool, but his eyes narrowed. That was all the response he needed to give.
Then Justin Roberts turned.
His voice rose with genuine enthusiasm, he couldn't hide it. "And his opponent… from West Newbury, Massachusetts… weighing in at 251 pounds… he is the WWE Champion, JOHN CENA!"
The building exploded.
A booming, soul shaking mixture of cheers, chants, whistles, claps, the loudest reaction of the entire night. The rafters literally rattled from the sound. Detroit was alive, and every fan inside the arena was on their feet, pointing at their hero, chanting his name.
Cena lifted the WWE Championship high above his head once again, letting it shine under the bright lights, the gold catching every camera flash. He gave the fans a small nod, a grateful smirk, then turned and handed the belt to the referee.
The ref held it up high, showing it to every side of the arena, the signal that this was real. This was happening. The gold on the line, the history of the company in the balance.
He passed the title to ringside, checked both men one last time…
And then—
DING DING DING!
The match began.
Cena circled slowly, bouncing lightly on his feet.
Big Show didn't move. He just watched. Measured. Calculated.
"Here we go!" Cole shouted. "The WWE Title is on the line! And Cena is giving up… well, almost 250 pounds tonight, King!"
Lawler whistled. "And that's being generous! Big Show looks like a man possessed!"
Cena inched forward, hands raised. Show didn't budge. Cena tried to dart in with a quick jab to the ribs—
SLAM!
Big Show swatted Cena's hand away like he was waving off a fly, the impact loud enough for the front row to hear.
Cena stepped back, shaking out his fingers, nodding slowly.
"Okay," Cena muttered to himself. "That's how it's gonna be."
Cena lunged again, but Show snapped a huge palm across Cena's chest with a sickening CHOP that echoed like a gunshot.
The entire crowd winced.
"OH! Did you hear that!?" Lawler screamed.
Cena stumbled backward, hand clutched to his chest, face twisted in pain.
Big Show smirked.
Then he moved.
He charged forward, swinging a massive clothesline, Cena ducked under it, sprinted off the ropes, and hit Show with a shoulder block—
And bounced off him like he hit a concrete wall.
Cena rolled backward, popped up to his feet, and stared in disbelief.
Big Show turned around slowly, chuckling.
"You can't hurt me!" he roared.
Then he stomped toward Cena.
Cena fired a right hand. Big Show ate it.
Cena fired a second. Big Show ate that too.
Cena fired a third—
Big Show grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the corner like a rag doll.
He crushed Cena with a massive body charge, flattening him against the turnbuckles, then trapped Cena's arms by his sides and delivered a second thunderous, echoing CHOP.
Cena dropped to a knee, gasping.
Big Show dragged him up by the head, lifted him, and tossed him like luggage across the ring.
The crowd groaned at the impact.
Cole shook his head. "Big Show is absolutely manhandling the WWE Champion tonight!"
Lawler added, "Cena's taken some beatings in his life, but this… this is another level."
Big Show walked over, planted one giant boot on Cena's chest, and put his entire weight on him.
Cena thrashed under the pressure, teeth clenched.
Show pressed down harder.
The ref started the count. ONE! TWO! Cena rolled out!
Big Show snarled and yanked Cena up again, but Cena suddenly came alive, firing punches to the gut, three, four, five rapid shots.
Big Show hunched over.
The crowd exploded.
Cena hit the ropes—
RIGHT INTO A SHOULDER BLOCK FROM BIG SHOW THAT FLOORED HIM.
Show covered.
ONE! TWO! Cena kicked out!
Big Show growled, annoyed. He shoved the referee out of his way, grabbed Cena, and whipped him into the corner again. Cena hit hard, back first, and stumbled right into Show's grip.
Big Show scooped him up, holding him like he weighed nothing, and slammed him with a sidewalk slam so strong the ring shook.
"Big Show might break him in half!" Cole yelled.
The giant raised both arms. The crowd booed louder.
Show dragged Cena up by the chain around his neck, lifted him, and pressed him high above his head in a gorilla press.
Show held him there, shaking him a little in the air, almost to mock him, then let him fall, catching him on the way down into a crushing bearhug.
Cena gasped, teeth clenched, face turning red as Show squeezed.
The ref checked him.
Cena shook his head violently, he wasn't quitting.
Big Show squeezed harder.
"Cena's fading!" Cole warned. "He's losing air!"
Lawler leaned forward. "He's in serious trouble!"
Cena's legs kicked. His arms shook. His face tightened with pain.
Then, like flipping a switch —
Cena roared.
He fought. He twisted. He hammered punches into Show's head.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Big Show dropped him.
The arena erupted.
Cena hit the ropes, Flying shoulder tackle!
Big Show staggered!
Cena hit the ropes again, SECOND shoulder tackle!
Big Show fell to the ground!
The crowd came unglued.
Cena lifted his hand, "YOU CAN'T SEE ME!", then darted forward—
Big Show shot up and wrapped his hand around Cena's throat.
"Oh no—" Cole gasped.
CHOKESLAM!!
Big Show slammed Cena into the mat so hard that the front row jumped.
Cover!
ONE! TWO! THR— CENA KICKS OUT!
The building shook.
Big Show's eyes widened.
Lawler shouted, "Cena's still alive!!"
Big Show snarled and pounded the mat with his fist in frustration.
He rose, breathing hard, sweat shining on his bald head. Cena crawled toward the ropes, clutching his ribs, trying to pull himself up.
Big Show stalked him.
He raised his giant fist, the signal.
The knockout punch.
The referee warned him.
Big Show ignored it.
Cena slowly stood.
Big Show swung—
Cena ducked!
Cena grabbed his arm!
Cena hooked the leg!
FISHERMAN SUPLEX, CAN HE? YES!!
The entire arena exploded into a scream.
Cole nearly jumped out of his seat. "HOW DID HE DO THAT!?"
Cena roared and staggered up, adrenaline pumping.
Big Show rose groggily.
Cena struck.
Left. Right. Flying shoulder. Hit the ropes, SIT OUT HIP TOSS! Show hit the mat again.
Cena looked out at the crowd, the place was electric.
He lifted his hand.
The arena erupted.
"YOU CAN'T SEE ME!"
Cena hit the ropes—
FIVE KNUCKLE SHUFFLE!
He popped up, fired up, eyes wild.
Big Show struggled to stand.
Cena kicked him in the gut, hooked the head, he's going for the Attitude Adjustment!
Cole screamed, "No way! He can't lift him! That's 485 pounds!!"
Cena roared like a man possessed.
Veins bulging, shoulders trembling, and knees bending under the unbelievable load.
And slowly, painfully, shockingly —
Big Show lifted off the mat.
Detroit exploded in disbelief.
Cena had him, Cena actually had him, and then—
The crowd suddenly BOOOOOOOED.
A massive wave of noise crashed through the arena.
Cena's eyes widened.
The camera whipped to ringside—
Randy Orton.
Crawling out of the crowd. Sliding over the barricade. Slithering toward the ring like the snake he always was.
The fans lost their minds.
"OH COME ON!" Cole yelled. "What the hell is Orton doing here!?"
Lawler exploded. "He's not even supposed to be part of this match!"
Cena was shouting at Orton from inside the ring, still holding Big Show on his shoulders.
"Get out of here! What are you doing!?" Cena barked.
Orton didn't move. He just stared.
Cold. Emotionless. Dangerous.
Cena's balance shifted.
His grip loosened.
Big Show suddenly came to life.
He slipped off Cena's shoulders, Cena turned—
KO PUNCH!!
It landed flush.
Cena's head snapped sideways. His body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
The crowd gasped, then booed furiously.
Big Show dropped to his knees, hooked the leg —
ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!
DING DING DING!!!
Justin Roberts stood, voice tight with shock but still professional. "Here is your winner… and the NEW WWE Champion… BIG SHOW!"
The fans booed so loudly the commentators could barely hear themselves.
Big Show stood slowly, breathing hard, sweat dripping, face twisted into a victorious smirk. The referee handed him the WWE Championship.
He lifted it high over his head with both hands, roaring triumphantly, the gold gleaming above him.
Three time WWE Champion.
The crowd hated it.
Hated him.
He didn't care.
He climbed the ropes, thrusting the title upward, soaking in the boos like they were applause.
Cole's voice filled the broadcast. "This is unbelievable! Big Show has stolen the WWE Championship, thanks to Randy Orton!"
Lawler shook his head. "This whole thing is a setup! Orton didn't want Cena to win, he didn't want anyone but himself near that title!"
In the ring, Big Show stepped down from the turnbuckle, still celebrating, still barking at the crowd.
Then he turned around.
Randy Orton was behind him.
The crowd roared.
Orton stepped forward and Big Show shouted something at him—
RKO!!!
The ring exploded.
The arena exploded.
The commentary desk exploded.
Cole shouted, "RKO OUT OF NOWHERE!! ORTON JUST DROPPED THE NEW CHAMPION!!"
Lawler yelled, "He wants the WWE Title, he wants it NOW!"
Orton rose slowly, standing over both fallen men, Cena unconscious from the KO Punch, Big Show laid out from the RKO.
He stared at the WWE Championship lying beside Show's massive arm.
He kneeled, picked it up, and held it with both hands. And with that cold, serpentine glare, he stared into the camera. The message was unmistakable. The show faded to black with Randy Orton standing tall, the WWE Championship glinting under the spotlights, and the crowd raining down a mix of awe, rage, and fear.
_______________________________
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