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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Justin Roberts, dressed in a sharp tuxedo, stepped to the center of the ring, a spotlight hitting him from above. "Ladies and gentlemen," Roberts' voice boomed, full of gravitas. "This is the final match of the 2010 King of the Ring tournament! It is scheduled for one fall!"
The crowd cheered in anticipation.
"Introducing first," Roberts announced, gesturing to the pale powerhouse. "From Dublin, Ireland... weighing in at 272 pounds... the Celtic Warrior... SHEAMUS!"
The fans roared in approval. Sheamus stepped forward, spreading his massive arms wide, his eyes never leaving Sandro's corner.
Roberts turned his attention to the opposite side of the ring.
"Introducing next," Roberts' voice dropped an octave, battling against the rising tide of boos. "Representing the Undisputed System... from Orlando, Florida... weighing in at 220 pounds... he is the WWE United States Champion and the WWE Champion... the God of WWE... SANDRO ZHANG!"
The boos were deafening, but underneath them was a strange, contradictory layer of cheers from the hardcore loyalists who respected his absolute dominance. Sandro didn't flinch. He didn't look at the crowd. He simply raised that single index finger high into the air one more time, his cold eyes locked directly onto Sheamus.
He slowly lowered his hand, cracking his neck from side to side.
The referee, looking as though he were standing between two ticking time bombs, stepped to the center of the ring. He checked Sheamus, who nodded sharply, biting down on his mouthpiece. He checked Sandro, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod, shifting his weight into a fighting stance.
Ensuring both men were ready, the referee threw his hand down and signaled the timekeeper.
DING! DING! DING!
The bell echoed through the arena, and the final battle for the crown was officially underway.
Neither man rushed. The exhaustion of the night demanded caution, but the stakes demanded violence. Sheamus took the center of the ring, his massive fists raised, looking for a brawl. Sandro circled him slowly, his eyes calculating, looking for the angle, looking for the weakness.
Sheamus lunged forward with a massive, sweeping clothesline, looking to take Sandro's head off in the first five seconds. Sandro ducked underneath it with terrifying speed, slipped behind the Celtic Warrior, and locked in a tight waistlock, trying to ground the bigger man immediately.
Sheamus, however, was a tank fueled by pure Irish fire. He didn't panic at the sudden waistlock. Instead, he planted his boots firmly into the canvas, threw his hips forward, and brutally swung a sharp, heavy elbow backward. The blow caught Sandro flush on the side of the jaw with a sickening thud. The hold broke instantly, and Sandro stumbled backward, his eyes flashing with sudden irritation.
Sheamus didn't give the dual champion a second to breathe. He charged like a raging bull, driving a massive knee into Sandro's gut, folding the God of WWE in half. The Celtic Warrior followed it up with a clubbing double axe handle to the back of Sandro's neck, dropping him flat onto the mat.
"And Sheamus takes early control!" Cole shouted, his voice ringing with hope. "This is exactly what the Celtic Warrior needs to do! He cannot let Sandro dictate the pace! He has to use that size and power advantage right from the opening bell!"
"Sheamus is fighting for the very soul of the WWE locker room right now," Lawler added, leaning forward in his seat. "Every superstar in the back who is sick and tired of the Undisputed System's tyranny is praying for a Brogue Kick tonight!"
"You two are absolutely pathetic!" JBL bellowed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Praying? Hoping? That's what peasants do! The man in that ring is a deity! You think a couple of clubbing blows are going to stop the inevitable? Sandro Zhang is just letting the big man tire himself out!"
Sandro scrambled to the ropes, pulling himself up, but Sheamus was relentless. The Irishman grabbed Sandro by the hair and hurled him into the corner, unleashing a flurry of heavy, looping right hands. Each punch landed with the sound of a sledgehammer hitting wet concrete. Sheamus backed up, let out a primal roar, and charged for a running shoulder thrust.
But Sandro's ring IQ was unparalleled. At the absolute last millisecond, Sandro sidestepped. Sheamus crashed shoulder first into the steel ring post, the metallic clang echoing through the Thomas & Mack Center. Sheamus stumbled backward, clutching his arm, completely disoriented.
Sandro's eyes went dead, the predator taking over. He targeted the injured arm instantly. He leaped into the air, wrapping his legs around Sheamus's extended limb, and violently dragged the big man down to the canvas with a Fujiwara armbar takedown.
Before Sheamus could even register the pain, Sandro transitioned flawlessly into a grounded Kimura lock, twisting the shoulder joint toward its breaking point.
"Look at the technical proficiency of Sandro!" Matt Striker analyzed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "He identified the weakness, isolated the limb, and grounded the bigger man. This is a masterclass in joint manipulation!"
"He's trying to snap his arm in half!" Cole yelled, panicking. "Don't tap, Sheamus! You have to fight through it!"
Sheamus roared in agony, his face turning a deep shade of crimson as the veins in his neck popped. Using pure, unadulterated strength, Sheamus dragged his massive frame toward the bottom rope, screaming as he finally draped his boot over the bottom strand. The referee immediately stepped in, forcing Sandro to break the hold at the count of four.
Sandro backed away, a cold, arrogant smirk returning to his face. He allowed Sheamus to stumble to his feet. The moment the Irishman turned around, Sandro launched a blistering offensive.
He hit a stiff, Muay Thai style roundhouse kick to Sheamus's thigh, followed by a spinning back fist, and culminating in a lightning fast snap suplex that dumped the 272 pounder squarely on his upper back.
Sandro wasn't done. He scaled the turnbuckles with the agility of a cruiserweight, balancing perfectly on the top rope.
"Sandro taking to the skies!" Cole announced.
Sandro leaped, executing a beautiful, picture perfect Frog Splash, crashing down across Sheamus's chest. He hooked the leg tightly.
One!
Two!
Sheamus powered out, kicking out with such force that he threw Sandro halfway across the ring.
The match evolved into an instant, grueling classic. It was a breathless, intense paced war of attrition that had the Las Vegas crowd on the absolute edge of their seats. For every tactical strike and high flying maneuver Sandro executed, Sheamus answered with raw, unbridled power.
Midway through the bout, Sheamus caught Sandro off a springboard crossbody attempt, catching the dual champion out of thin air. With a roar that shook the arena, Sheamus shifted Sandro's weight and planted him with a devastating White Noise, driving the back of Sandro's head into the mat.
"White Noise! He hit it!" Lawler screamed. "This is it! We have a new King!"
One!
Two!
Thre—NO!
Sandro got his shoulder up by a millimeter, his face contorted in pain and sheer, stubborn willpower.
"You cannot kill what is immortal!" JBL laughed maniacally. "The God of WWE kicks out! Sheamus just hit him with his best shot, and it wasn't enough!"
Frustration began to seep into Sheamus's eyes. He dragged Sandro onto the ring apron, trapping the champion's arms in the ropes.
He ripped away the black and gold fabric of Sandro's gear, exposing his chest. Sheamus began to relentlessly deliver the Beats of the Bodhrán, ten heavy, bone rattling forearm clubs straight to Sandro's chest, leaving the skin bright red and welted.
The crowd was split, a chaotic symphony of cheers for the violence and boos for the disrespect shown to their God.
Sheamus rolled Sandro back into the center of the ring. He retreated to the corner, beating his chest, calling for the end. He was waiting for the Brogue Kick.
Sandro slowly, painfully pushed himself up to his feet. He turned around, completely dazed. Sheamus charged, launching his massive frame into the air, the heavy boot aimed directly at Sandro's skull.
But Sandro possessed a terrifying sixth sense. He dropped to his knees, letting the Brogue Kick sail harmlessly over his head. Sheamus crashed to the mat, his momentum carrying him down.
Sandro was up in a flash. He hit the ropes, accelerating to maximum speed. As he rebounded, he didn't run at Sheamus. Instead, he leaped toward the adjacent corner turnbuckles.
He sprang off the middle turnbuckle, propelling himself backward into the air. While completely inverted in a mid air backflip, Sandro reached out, caught the staggering Celtic Warrior around the head and neck, and violently drove him face first into the canvas on the way down.
The arena erupted into absolute bedlam. The noise was a mixture of pure shock, disbelief, and visceral excitement.
"HE DID IT AGAIN!" Cole screamed, literally jumping out of his chair. "WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT MANEUVER?! He used the middle turnbuckle this time! The trajectory, the sheer physics of it, it's impossible!"
"A Springboard Backflip Cutter off the middle rope!" Striker yelled, his voice cracking. "That is the most insane, physically demanding counter I have ever seen in the history of this industry!"
"Bow down!" JBL roared, pounding the desk until his monitor shook. "Bow down to the innovator! Bow down to the God!"
Sheamus was completely laid out, his eyes glassy and unseeing. But the pure fighting instinct of the Celtic Warrior refused to let him stay flat. Slowly, agonizingly, Sheamus's massive frame stirred. He pushed his hands against the canvas, blindly fighting gravity until he was kneeling on both of his knees in the dead center of the ring, his head hanging low.
Sandro, who had rolled smoothly to his feet from the cutter, saw the opening. His eyes narrowed, burning with a cold, lethal finality.
He didn't hesitate. He sprinted toward the ropes behind Sheamus, hitting them with explosive, terrifying speed. He rebounded, dropping low, sliding across the canvas like a striking viper. His arm cocked back.
CRACK.
THE LAST NOTE.
The inward to outward elbow strike connected flush with the back of Sheamus's head and neck. The impact sounded like a baseball bat shattering. Sheamus collapsed forward, face planting into the mat, entirely motionless. The lights were out.
Sandro rolled him over, casually draping one arm across Sheamus's chest, looking dead pan into the hard camera.
ONE.
TWO.
THREE.
DING! DING! DING!
"No..." Cole whispered, slumping back into his chair, utterly defeated. "He did it. He actually did it."
Justin Roberts' voice echoed through the shocked, buzzing arena. "Here is your winner... and the 2010 King of the Ring... SANDRO ZHANG!"
The crowd reaction was a chaotic, swirling vortex of loud, disappointed boos and the fervent, undeniable cheers of those who respected the sheer dominance they had just witnessed.
"It's a nightmare," Lawler whispered, shaking his head. "He already holds the WWE Championship. He holds the United States Championship. He's going for the World Heavyweight Championship. And now... he's the King of the Ring. Is there anything left for the rest of the roster?"
"Only scraps, King!" JBL crowed, standing up and giving a standing ovation to the ring. "Only the crumbs that fall from the God's table! You are looking at the most dominant, unstoppable, omnipotent force in the history of sports entertainment! All hail Sandro Zhang!"
In the ring, the referee raised Sandro's arm high. Sandro didn't smile, but the smug satisfaction radiating from his posture was suffocating. He brushed his sweat dampened hair out of his eyes, breathing heavily but looking entirely invincible.
Suddenly, the familiar, heavy bass drop of SHOCK THE SYSTEM hit the speakers again.
From the entrance stage, the true celebration began. The queens of the court emerged first. Alexa Bliss, AJ Lee, and Nikki Bella strutted down the ramp, their hips swaying, Alexa's and Sandro's championship titles gleaming under the Vegas lights.
They were followed closely by Paul Heyman, clutching a microphone and a velvet pillow, grinning like a proud father. Behind Heyman marched the entire imposing wall of the Undisputed System's boys, Big E, Ryback, Wade Barrett, Drew McIntyre, Kofi Kingston, Dolph Ziggler, and the newest inductee, Xavier Woods.
They marched down the ramp, a gilded empire coming to collect their leader.
The girls slid into the ring first. They completely ignored the unconscious Sheamus being tended to by the referee. They surrounded Sandro, their eyes full of adoration and pure, intoxicating pride.
AJ Lee stepped up first, grabbing Sandro by the lapels of his invisible shirt, pulling him down for a deep, passionate, completely uninhibited hot kiss right in the center of the ring. The crowd immediately erupted into loud, jealous boos and catcalls.
As soon as AJ pulled back, smirking, Nikki Bella took her place, wrapping her arms around his neck and delivering a scorching kiss of her own. Finally, Alexa Bliss stepped in, grabbing his face and kissing him fiercely, completely ignoring the thousands of people watching.
"Oh, come on! This is a family program! Are we running a wrestling show or a Roman bacchanal?!" Cole groaned in utter disgust, covering his eyes. "This is absolute trash! They are rubbing it in everyone's faces!"
"Trash?!" JBL yelled, cackling wildly. "That's the spoils of victory, Michael! To the victor go the championships, the crowns, and the most beautiful women on the planet! The God of WWE lives a life you could only dream of!"
The boys of the Undisputed System entered the ring next, forming a protective, intimidating semi circle around Sandro and the girls. They clapped, slapping Sandro on the back, acknowledging the sheer brilliance of his performance.
The ring crew quickly scurried in, setting up a lavish, golden throne in the center of the ring, draped in velvet. They placed a regal, velvet cushioned podium next to it.
Paul Heyman stepped forward, holding the velvet pillow. Resting atop it was a magnificent, glittering gold crown and an ornate scepter. Heyman gestured for Sandro to take his seat.
Sandro slowly sank into the golden throne, crossing one leg over the other. The girls draped themselves over the arms of the chair, while the heavy hitters stood tall behind it, an unbreakable fortress of muscle and gold.
Heyman brought the microphone to his lips, his voice trembling with manufactured, theatrical emotion.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the WWE Universe," Heyman began, his voice echoing perfectly through the silenced arena. "You have borne witness to a miracle. You have seen a man run a gauntlet of monsters, legends, and warriors, and emerge entirely unscathed. You look upon this throne, and you see perfection."
Heyman lifted the golden crown from the pillow.
"Vince McMahon tried to stack the deck. He tried to break the spirit of the Undisputed System. The WWE Board of Directors tried to conspire against him! But what Mr. McMahon and all of you fail to realize is that you cannot break what is divine."
Heyman stepped forward, carefully placing the glittering crown atop Sandro Zhang's head.
"I coronate this man," Heyman declared, his voice rising to a fever pitch. "Not merely as a champion. Not merely as a King. For a King is mortal. A King can be overthrown."
Heyman fell to one knee, offering the scepter to Sandro, who took it with a cold, terrifying smirk.
"I coronate Sandro Zhang as the absolute, undisputed, untouchable... GOD KING of the WWE!"
The crowd's boos reached a nuclear, deafening level, but the image was already burned into history. Sandro Zhang sat on the throne, the crown on his head, the scepter in his hand, surrounded by beautiful women and the most dangerous men in the industry.
He was the United States Champion. He was the WWE Champion. He was the 2010 King of the Ring. And he was coming for the World Heavyweight Championship. "Look at him," Striker whispered, a genuine chill in his voice as the camera zoomed in on Sandro's cold, dead eyes. "The God King. I don't think there is a force on this earth that can stop him now."
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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, PWI Top 500 (No.1) - 2010, & 1x KOTR (2010)
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0