If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Also everyone I have a new novel named "From Couch To The Inquisitor", be sure to check it out and give some power stone)
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The opening pyrotechnics exploded around the massive SmackDown fist on the stage, the bright lights sweeping over the roaring crowd as the heavy rock theme song pumped through the stadium speakers. "Welcome, everyone, to Friday Night SmackDown!" Cole shouted over the deafening noise. "We are live in Dayton, Ohio, and the tension on this brand has never been higher!"
"You aren't kidding, Cole!" Booker T agreed, adjusting his headset. "The Nexus is running roughshod over the roster, and former best friends are trying to end each other's careers!"
"We have to address the massive confrontation we witnessed last week!" Cole transitioned quickly. "Christian and Edge, two men who once considered themselves brothers, finally came to blows! Edge attempted to spear Christian out of his boots, but Christian countered with the Money in the Bank briefcase!"
"It was a brilliant counter," Booker praised. "Christian is showing a level of aggression we haven't seen from him in years!"
"It was a lucky swing with a heavy piece of metal!" JBL argued dismissively. "Edge is trying to teach Christian a lesson about what it takes to survive at the top of the mountain! Christian doesn't belong in the main event, and Edge is going to prove it!"
Before Cole could issue a rebuttal, the stadium speakers crackled, and the upbeat, energetic guitar riff of Just Close Your Eyes hit the sound system.
The Ohio crowd erupted into a massive, sustained roar of cheers!
Christian stepped out from behind the curtain, clutching the dented, green Money in the Bank briefcase tightly in his right hand. He looked incredibly focused, his jaw set with determination. He walked down the long ramp, slapping high fives with the fans, visibly drawing strength from their overwhelming support.
He slid under the bottom rope, climbing onto the second turnbuckle to raise the briefcase high into the air, soaking in the adulation.
Christian stepped down, asking for a microphone from a ringside technician. He walked to the center of the ring, looking directly into the hard camera.
"Last week," Christian began, his voice echoing clearly through the arena, "Edge stood up on that stage and told the world that I am weak. He said I don't have the instincts or the ruthlessness to survive at the absolute top of this industry."
Christian let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"But you know what I proved last week?" Christian asked the crowd, his voice rising with intensity. "I proved that there is a massive difference between being a great wrestler... and being a great man. Edge can throw all the insults he wants. He can question my guts. But all his attack did was prove that he is terrified of what I am capable of!"
The fans cheered loudly, fully supporting his defiance.
"I fought through absolute hell to win this contract!" Christian declared passionately, holding the briefcase up. "I survived the ladders. I survived the brutality. And I walked away with the guarantee that I can choose exactly when my World Championship opportunity comes!"
Christian paced the ring, his confidence radiating through the building.
"And as I have stated already, I have made my decision," Christian stated firmly. "Now, I am coming for that WWE Championship."
A massive pop echoed through the Nutter Center.
"I am targeting that title that I have never helx," Christian confirmed, narrowing his eyes. "After all, Sandro likes to call himself a God. He walks around with two world titles, acting like he is completely untouchable. But let me tell you a secret... nobody stays at the top forever."
Christian leaned into the microphone, his voice dropping into a serious, threatening register.
"Sooner or later, Sandro is going to make a mistake," Christian promised. "Sooner or later, he is going to let his guard down. And when he least expects it... I am going to cash this contract in, and I am going to take that WWE Championship!"
Christian raised the briefcase high into the air, the crowd roaring their approval. He looked closer to the main event than he had in his entire career.
But before the cheers could fade...
KSSSHHH!
The static hit, and the heavy, driving guitar riff of Cult of Personality absolutely rocked the stadium!
The Ohio crowd completely lost their minds. The reaction was instantaneous and chaotic, a massive, deafening mixture of enormous cheers and loud, hostile boos.
"Wait a minute!" Cole shrieked at the desk, completely stunned. "What is he doing here?!"
"The God King is in the building!" JBL cheered loudly, a massive grin on his face. "Christian just summoned the devil himself!"
"Sandro Zhang hasn't appeared on Friday Night SmackDown in months!" Booker T noted, his voice filled with shock. "Why is he here right now?!"
Sandro Zhang emerged onto the entrance stage.
The visual was incredibly powerful. He wore a pristine, tailored black suit, but he carried both the WWE Championship and the World Heavyweight Championship draped over his shoulders. His right arm was completely free of the medical sling, signifying that he was fully recovered and ready for war.
Sandro didn't rush. He didn't speak. He stood at the very top of the entrance ramp, looking down at the ring with a cold, unbothered expression of absolute superiority.
Inside the ring, Christian didn't back down. He lowered the microphone, clutching the Money in the Bank briefcase tightly against his chest, staring dead ahead at the man he had just threatened.
The entire arena buzzed with frantic speculation. Why had the God King come down to the blue brand after all this time? Was he here to address the threat of the briefcase? Or was there a darker, more volatile reason for his sudden arrival?
Sandro adjusted the championships on his shoulders, a slow, highly arrogant smirk spreading across his face. He took his first, deliberate step down the steel ramp, leaving the audience breathless as they waited to see what kind of chaos the undisputed king of the industry was about to unleash on Friday nights.
The heavy, driving guitar riff of Cult of Personality echoed through the Nutter Center, shaking the foundations of the arena. Sandro didn't break his unhurried, measured stride. He walked down the steel ramp with the quiet, terrifying composure of an apex predator inspecting his territory.
Inside the ring, Christian stood his ground. He clutched the battered green Money in the Bank briefcase to his chest, his eyes narrowed, tracking Sandro's every move. The tension in the building was suffocating, the air thick with the colliding ambitions of two men whose paths had suddenly intersected.
Sandro climbed the steel steps. He casually wiped the soles of his polished dress shoes on the ring apron, ducked smoothly through the ropes, and stepped onto the canvas. A ringside technician scrambled to hand him a microphone. Sandro took it without looking, his dark eyes locked exclusively on Christian.
The God King didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. When he brought the microphone to his lips, the Ohio crowd naturally hushed, compelled to listen even though they wanted to continue to boo.
"Congratulations, Christian," Sandro began, his tone smooth, almost conversational. "I mean that sincerely. I watched the opening match for the historic main been between me and Lesnar. You went through a grueling, brutal ladder match, and you outlasted everyone else. You earned that briefcase in your hands. And I want to make one thing perfectly clear to you right now... I have no intention of taking it away from you."
The crowd buzzed, unsure of where the champion was going with this.
Sandro took a slow step forward, the twin world titles gleaming over his shoulders under the arena lights.
"But you need to understand a very harsh reality," Sandro continued, his voice dropping into a colder register. "The days of a guaranteed, successful cash in? Those days are over. My championship reign is going to be the definitive end of that tradition. I am forging a legacy that will easily surpass 365 days, a reign that will not be undone by a sneak attack from a man holding a metal lunchbox."
Christian's jaw tightened, his grip on the briefcase flexing.
"If I were you," Sandro suggested mockingly, a faint smirk playing on his lips, "I would strongly consider taking that contract and cashing it in on something a little more appropriate for your current level. Go after Drew McIntyre's United States Championship. Target Wade Barrett and the Intercontinental title. Those are great accomplishments for a guy like you."
The insult was deliberate, calculated to hit Christian where it hurt the most. The crowd rained boos down on the ring, rejecting Sandro's condescension.
"Because despite what you just said," Sandro said, pacing slowly in a semi circle around the veteran, "I actually agree with some of Edge's criticism. You don't have the killer instinct, Christian."
Sandro stopped, turning to face him dead on. The smirk vanished from his face.
"How much more?" Sandro asked, his voice echoing sharply. "And how much longer will it take for you to understand?"
Christian glared at him, refusing to shrink under the champion's gaze.
"Look at your career," Sandro dissected him ruthlessly. "You are a veteran. You have survived multiple eras. You have stepped into this ring with legends, and you have participated in matches that people will remember forever. But what do you truly have left to show for all those years of sacrifice? You have never been the WWE Champion."
Sandro pointed a finger at the stage where Edge had stood moments before.
"You spent your entire life trying to do things the 'right' way," Sandro argued, his tone laced with dark logic. "You played by the rules. And what did it get you? You stayed one step behind. Meanwhile, Edge was willing to make the dirty choices. He was willing to cross the lines you wouldn't. And because of that, he is a multiple time World Champion, and you are standing here begging for scraps of respect."
Sandro shook his head, offering a look of fake pity.
"Do yourself a favor, Christian," Sandro advised quietly. "Focus on your little rivalry with Edge. Settle your family drama. Because if you come after me, I will end your career."
The boos swelled into a deafening roar.
"Who the hell does he think he is?!" Cole shouted at the announce desk, utterly disgusted. "Christian has spilled his blood for this industry for over a decade! He has more than earned the right to pursue the WWE Championship, and Sandro has absolutely no right to talk down to him like that, absolute zero respect!"
"I have to agree with my boy Cole on this one!" Booker T added. "Sandro is sitting on his high horse, but Christian is a dangerous, desperate man holding a golden ticket!"
"Sandro is just speaking facts!" JBL shot back, defending the God King. "Money in the Bank is just a tool! Just because you hold the contract doesn't magically mean you are ready to carry this company on your back! Sandro is trying to save Christian from making the biggest mistake of his life!"
Inside the ring, Christian slowly raised his own microphone. He didn't scream. He didn't lose his temper.
"You want to talk about my career, Sandro?" Christian replied, his voice steady, carrying the weight of a man who knew exactly who he was. "You want to talk about the uncomfortable truths? Fine. I will admit it. Some of what you just said is true. I watched Edge cross lines. I watched him take the shortcuts. And I watched him win world titles while I busted my ass in the trenches."
Christian took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
"But that doesn't mean I am going to back down," Christian stated, his eyes burning with fierce resolve. "I have spent my life working for everything I have. I outworked the guys in my rookie class. I outworked the guys who came after them. I survived eras of this business that have already disappeared into the history books."
Christian tapped the briefcase against his chest.
"Look around the locker room, Sandro," Christian urged. "Look at the guys from my generation. Most of them are gone. Their bodies broke down, they suffered major injuries, or they were forced into retirement. But I am still here. I am still actively competing at a high level. And this briefcase? This contract is the proof that all of that grinding, all of that sacrifice, finally produced something tangible."
The Ohio crowd cheered loudly, backing the veteran's passionate defense of his legacy.
"I am going to take that WWE Championship," Christian promised, his voice rising over the noise of the fans. "And I know you are smart, Sandro. I know you will anticipate it. I know you'll have eyes in the back of your head, trying to prevent me from finding an opening."
Christian smiled, a determined, gritty look on his face.
"But that is exactly how this contract works," Christian explained. "I don't need you to be unaware forever. I only need one moment. One opening. One second when you are hurt, exhausted, distracted, or vulnerable. I will wait for that moment. And when it happens, I am taking your crown."
"CHRISTIAN! CHRISTIAN! CHRISTIAN!"
The crowd chanted his name in unison.
Sandro listened to the defiant speech. He didn't look angry. Instead, a low, dark chuckle escaped his lips. He adjusted the WWE Championship on his shoulder, shaking his head slowly.
"We will see if that plan actually works," Sandro replied, his voice chillingly calm. "But before you start dreaming about my titles... you need to survive long enough to actually cash that briefcase in."
Sandro let the ominous statement hang in the heavy arena air.
Christian's brow furrowed, processing the threat.
But before Christian could even turn his head, a blur of motion erupted from behind him.
The crowd shrieked as Edge slid into the ring like a viper. He was clutching a solid steel folding chair. Without a single word of warning, Edge swung the weapon with terrifying velocity, driving the steel directly into the back of Christian's knee!
Christian cried out in agony, his leg buckling instantly. As he dropped to the canvas, Edge ruthlessly cracked the chair across his spine, sending Christian face first into the mat.
The arena erupted into absolute chaos, the fans screaming at the vicious, cowardly ambush.
Sandro took a calm step backward. He didn't intervene. He simply stood near the ropes, watching the violence unfold with cold, detached interest.
Edge was breathing heavily, his eyes wide and manic. He dropped the chair, grabbed Christian by the hair, and forcefully dragged his former best friend up to his knees. Edge snatched the Money in the Bank briefcase from the mat and slammed it flat against the canvas. He forced Christian's face down, resting his skull directly on top of the hard metal case.
Edge picked the steel chair back up. He raised it high above his head, a sinister, twisted smile spreading across his face. The intention was horrifyingly clear. He was going to deliver a Con chair to, crushing Christian's skull against the briefcase and ending his career in one swing.
"No! Stop him!" Cole screamed in sheer panic. "He is going to break his neck!"
Edge swung the chair down.
But Sandro moved with blinding speed.
Before the steel could connect, Sandro lunged forward. He didn't use a weapon. He simply drove his elbow forward with bone jarring force, executing a flawless, devastating Last Note strike directly to the side of Edge's head!
The impact sounded like a gunshot. Edge's eyes rolled back, his grip on the chair loosening instantly, and he collapsed to the canvas in an unconscious heap.
The Ohio crowd erupted into a massive, confused roar of shock. Had the God King just saved his challenger?
Sandro stood over the fallen Rated-R Superstar. He turned his attention to Christian, who was groggily trying to push himself up from the briefcase, coughing and clutching his ribs.
The audience watched in breathless anticipation, completely unsure of what the champion was about to do.
Sandro reached down, grabbing Christian roughly by the back of his neck. He hauled the battered veteran up to his feet. In one fluid, terrifying display of raw power, Sandro lifted Christian onto his shoulders, transitioning seamlessly into the electric chair position.
Sandro dropped to his knees, driving Christian back first into the mat with a devastating Falls From Grace!
Christian bounced off the canvas, his body going completely limp alongside his former friend.
The boos cascaded down from the rafters, thick and heavy with venom.
Sandro slowly rose to his feet, adjusting his tailored suit jacket. He reached down, retrieving his WWE Championship and his World Heavyweight Championship. He draped one over each shoulder, walking to the center of the ring, and stood tall over the broken bodies of the two bitter rivals.
"What did we just witness?!" Booker T yelled, his voice laced with confusion and awe. "He stopped Edge from crippling Christian, and then he laid Christian out himself!"
"He is protecting his throne!" Cole argued, trying to make sense of the violence. "He didn't want Edge taking out a viable challenger, but he wanted to remind Christian exactly who runs this yard!"
"You are both wrong!" JBL laughed, absolutely loving the display of dominance. "Sandro Zhang is making a definitive statement! He doesn't care about their rivalry! He refuses to allow anyone else to control the narrative of his title scene! He just proved that whether it's Edge or Christian, they are both beneath him!"
The camera faded to black on the powerful, complex visual of the God King standing victorious in a ring full of wreckage, leaving the WWE Universe with far more questions than answers. The weekend passed in a blur of speculation and debate, and the wrestling world eagerly turned its attention to Monday Night RAW, broadcasting live from the WWE's corporate hometown of Stamford, Connecticut. The arena was packed to the rafters, the fans buzzing with electric anticipation for the fallout from Friday's chaotic confrontation.
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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 (1st - 376 days), 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), & Youngest World Heavyweight Champion
Wrestlemania Record: 2 - 0 Main Event: 1 - 0