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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The World Heavyweight Championship rematch was officially underway. The Boston crowd erupted into a massive, dueling chant of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" mixed with a heavy, rhythmic chorus of "SANDRO SUCKS! SANDRO SUCKS!"
"The bell has sounded!" Cole shouted. "And the Triple Crown Era is officially on the line! CM Punk against Sandro Zhang! A clash of completely different philosophies, different styles, and absolute, pure hatred!"
"Look at the intensity in Punk's eyes, Michael!" Striker analyzed. "He knows this is his one and only chance. If he loses tonight, he goes to the back of the line. He has to fight through the pain of those bruised ribs, and he has to out wrestle the most technically gifted champion on the roster!"
"He's not out wrestling anybody!" JBL cackled loudly. "Look at the ring perimeter! The God King has his entire army surrounding the ring! Punk is trapped in a shark tank! The God King is going to devour him!"
Punk and Sandro didn't immediately lock up. They slowly circled the center of the ring, their eyes locked in a dead stare. Punk was bouncing lightly on his toes, his fists raised in his Muay Thai stance. Sandro walked with that terrifying, flat footed calm, his hands slightly lowered, radiating absolute, sociopathic confidence.
Punk made the first move. He darted in, unleashing a rapid fire sequence of stiff, martial arts inspired kicks aimed directly at Sandro's lead leg, trying to chop down the champion's base.
Sandro absorbed the first two strikes, but expertly caught the third kick, sweeping Punk's other leg out from under him and taking the challenger down to the mat with a beautiful dragon screw leg whip.
Punk hit the canvas, but instantly rolled backward, popping right back up to his feet.
The Boston crowd roared their approval at the opening exchange.
Sandro smirked, gesturing for Punk to bring it on. Punk obliged, charging forward and locking up in a classic collar and elbow tie up. The sheer functional strength of the God King was immediately apparent.
Sandro seamlessly transitioned behind Punk, locking in a tight waist lock, and executed a flawless amateur wrestling takedown, grinding Punk's face into the canvas.
Sandro immediately went to work on the bruised ribs. He drove his knee squarely into Punk's taped midsection, applying a punishing, grinding front facelock.
"Sandro is a surgeon in the ring!" Cole winced. "He knows exactly where Punk is hurt, and he is going to ruthlessly exploit it!"
"That is exactly what a true champion does!" JBL cheered. "You find the weakness, and you break it until they quit! Punk shouldn't even be medically cleared for this match!"
Punk grimaced in pain, the white tape around his ribs straining. Feeding off the rhythmic clapping of the Boston crowd, Punk fought up to a vertical base. He threw a series of sharp elbows into Sandro's gut, breaking the hold.
Punk hit the ropes, accelerating, and launched himself into a leaping calf kick that caught Sandro flush on the jaw, sending the champion stumbling backward into the corner.
Punk charged in, hitting his signature high knee strike! As Sandro staggered forward, Punk grabbed him by the head and snapped him down to the mat with a devastating swinging neckbreaker.
Punk didn't go for the pin. He mounted Sandro, raining down heavy, closed fist punches, his face contorted in absolute rage.
"Look at the aggression!" Lawler cheered. "Punk is trying to knock him out right now! He knows he can't let Sandro dictate the pace of this match!"
Sandro managed to push Punk off, rolling out to the ring apron to catch his breath. Punk didn't give him a second. He charged, hitting a beautiful springboard dropkick that knocked Sandro entirely off the apron. The God King crashed heavily onto the ringside floor, right at the feet of Paul Heyman.
The Undisputed System immediately surged forward, checking on their leader. Gallows and Mercury instantly stepped up, raising their barbed wire bats, forcing Wade Barrett and Drew McIntyre to back away. The tension on the outside was explosive, a powder keg waiting for a single spark.
Inside the ring, Punk hit the opposite ropes. He accelerated to maximum velocity, soaring through the middle ropes for a breathtaking suicide dive!
But Sandro had it scouted perfectly!
As Punk flew through the air, Sandro sidestepped. Punk crashed violently, chest first, into the unyielding steel barricade! The sickening thud of Punk's bruised ribs hitting the metal echoed through the arena.
Punk collapsed to the floor in absolute agony, gasping for air, clutching his midsection as his face turned a concerning shade of pale.
"Oh my God!" Striker yelled in horror. "Punk just crashed and burned! Sandro set him up perfectly! That might be a broken rib!"
"A masterful evasion by the God King!" JBL laughed hysterically. "Punk just took himself out of the match! Ring the bell, ref! Count him out!"
Sandro didn't wait for a count out. He grabbed Punk by the hair, callously dragging the agonizing challenger to his feet. Sandro lifted Punk up and drove him spine first into the steel ring post with terrifying force.
Sandro rolled Punk back into the ring, sliding in right behind him. The God King went to work, executing a clinical, methodical dissection of the Voice of the Voiceless. Sandro locked in a torturous abdominal stretch, driving his elbow deep into Punk's exposed ribs, torquing Punk's body at an unnatural angle.
The match evolved into a grueling war of attrition. Every time Punk tried to string together some offense, Sandro would immediately cut him off with a targeted strike to the midsection. Sandro hit a beautiful, bridging Tiger Suplex for a two and a half count, the bridging arch putting excruciating pressure on Punk's torso.
As the match crossed the twenty-minute mark, both men were visibly exhausted, drenched in sweat.
Sandro whipped Punk hard into the corner. He charged in, looking for a running splash. But Punk managed to get his boots up! Sandro ate a face full of leather, staggering backward.
Punk scrambled to the top turnbuckle, operating on pure, desperate instinct. He launched himself into the air, executing a breathtaking diving crossbody block!
He crashed down on Sandro, hooking the leg!
One!
Two!
Two and nine tenths!
Sandro violently kicked out, sending Punk rolling across the canvas.
The Boston crowd was on their feet, completely unglued, chanting "THIS IS AWESOME!" at the top of their lungs.
"The heart of CM Punk is absolutely immeasurable!" Cole screamed. "He is fighting through unimaginable pain! He absolutely refuses to let the Triple Crown Era continue!"
Punk dragged himself to his feet, pulling Sandro up with him. It was time to trade heavy artillery.
Punk threw a stiff forearm. Sandro answered with a blistering European uppercut.
Smack! "YAY!"
Smack! "BOO!"
Smack! "YAY!"
Smack! "BOO!"
Smack! "YAY!"
Smack! "BOO!"
The exchange grew faster and faster. Punk finally gained the upper hand, ducking a wild right hook and executing a rapid fire combination of Mongolian chops, followed by a spinning backfist that completely scrambled the God King's senses.
Punk hoisted Sandro seamlessly onto his shoulders!
"GO TO SLEEP!" Lawler shrieked. "He's got him!"
Punk threw Sandro into the air, bringing his knee up for the devastating, knockout blow.
But Sandro Zhang wasn't a normal superstar.
In mid air, Sandro violently contorted his body, catching Punk's rising knee with his bare hands! Sandro shifted his weight, floating completely over Punk's shoulders, landing perfectly on his feet behind the challenger.
Before Punk could even turn around, Sandro leaped into the air, grabbing Punk around the neck and driving the back of his head first into the canvas with a catastrophic, picture perfect reverse DDT!
Sandro didn't go for the pin. He saw an opening to end the match permanently.
Sandro grabbed Punk by the legs, flipping him over, and stepped through, looking to lock in the Sharpshooter!
But Punk wildly scrambled, kicking Sandro away. As Sandro stumbled backward, he fell through the middle ropes, tumbling out to the ringside floor.
Punk didn't hesitate. Operating purely on adrenaline, Punk rolled out of the ring under the bottom rope, chasing the God King.
The fight spilled to the outside, right in front of the commentary table. The referee began his mandatory ten count, but neither man cared.
Punk grabbed Sandro by the hair, violently slamming the Triple Crown Champion's face into the heavy plastic cover of the English announce desk.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
Sandro fired back, delivering a stiff knee to Punk's taped ribs that doubled the challenger over. Sandro grabbed Punk by the tights, looking to whip him into the steel ring steps.
But Punk reversed the momentum! Punk sent Sandro flying over the commentary desk! The God King crashed violently into the laps of Cole, Lawler, and Striker, sending headsets and monitors flying in all directions!
"Look out!" Cole yelled, diving out of the way just in time as the champion crashed into the desk.
Jerry Lawler and Matt Striker scrambled backward, tripping over their own rolling chairs, as Sandro's momentum carried him over the announce table, burying him under a tangle of audio cables and shattered monitors.
"The absolute disrespect!" JBL screamed, refusing to move from his seat, glaring at Punk. "You are destroying company property! You are assaulting the God King!"
punk didn't care about the commentary equipment. He stood on the ringside floor, gasping for air, clutching his ribs, waiting for Sandro to re emerge from the wreckage.
Sandro slowly pushed himself up, throwing a broken monitor aside. His pristine black and gold ring gear was scuffed, and his hair was wildly disheveled. The cold, sociopathic calm was gone, replaced by a burning, terrifying anger. Sandro realized he was in a genuine dogfight.
Instead of climbing down from the table, Sandro used the elevated position to his advantage. As Punk moved in to grab him, Sandro launched himself off the sturdy English announce desk!
"Watch out!" Striker yelled.
Sandro soared through the air, executing a breathtaking diving European uppercut that caught Punk perfectly under the jaw! The impact sent both men crashing violently onto the thin, unforgiving ringside mats.
The referee was leaning through the ropes, his count echoing through the arena.
...Six! ...Seven!
Sandro pushed himself off Punk, dragging the challenger up by his taping. Sandro whipped Punk hard into the steel ring steps. Punk collided shoulder first, the heavy steel steps shifting with the force of the impact.
...Eight!
Sandro grabbed Punk by the hair, callously rolling the challenger under the bottom rope and sliding in right behind him, breaking the count just in the nick of time.
The match continued its grueling pace inside the squared circle. Both men were entirely exhausted, their bodies pushed to the absolute breaking point.
They traded near falls, the Boston crowd collectively losing their minds with every two count. Punk hit a beautiful bridging Northern Lights suplex for a near three. Sandro responded with a devastating sit out powerbomb that nearly drove Punk through the canvas.
The action was non stop, an absolute masterpiece of professional wrestling.
"This is exactly why these are two of the best in the world!" Cole praised, his voice hoarse. "They are matching each other move for move, counter for counter!"
As the match crossed the thirty-minute mark, the desperation began to set in.
Sandro managed to back Punk into the corner. He charged, looking for a running knee strike, but Punk sidestepped! Sandro crashed chest first into the turnbuckles. Punk quickly rolled Sandro up from behind with a tight schoolboy pin!
One! Two! Sandro kicked out, sending Punk stumbling forward.
Sandro popped up to his feet, enraged. He charged at Punk, but Punk was ready. Punk ducked under a wild right hand and instantly hoisted Sandro onto his shoulders for a second attempt at the Go To Sleep!
On the outside of the ring, the tension finally snapped.
Seeing their God King in imminent danger of losing his Triple Crown, Heyman absolutely panicked. The Special Advisor and Speaker leaped up onto the ring apron, screaming wildly at the referee, violently waving his manila folder to cause a distraction.
"Look at this garbage!" Lawler yelled in disgust. "Heyman is trying to save Sandro's reign!"
Punk saw Heyman on the apron. Frustrated, Punk dropped Sandro off his shoulders, letting the champion crash to the mat. Punk marched over to the ropes, grabbing Heyman by the tie, fully preparing to pull the Special Advisor into the ring and knock him unconscious.
But Heyman's interference was the spark that ignited the powder keg on the outside.
Gallows and Mercury, who had been standing guard, immediately rushed the ring apron to protect their leader from the golden army. They gripped their barbed wire baseball bats tightly, their eyes wild with protective fury.
Instantly, the heavy hitters of the Undisputed System stepped up. Big E, Ryback, Wade Barrett, and Drew McIntyre formed an impenetrable, massive wall of muscle, stepping between the Straight Edge Society enforcers and the ring.
Dolph Ziggler and Xavier Woods strategically pulled Heyman and the three Queens, AJ, Nikki, and Alexa, back toward the barricade, keeping the vulnerable members of the faction safe from the impending violence.
The standoff lasted exactly two seconds before all hell broke loose.
Gallows swung his barbed wire bat with terrifying velocity, catching Ryback flush in the ribs. The Big Guy roared in agony, stumbling backward. Mercury swung wildly at Wade Barrett, the barbed wire tearing into the Englishman's arm.
"It's an all out war at ringside!" Striker shouted over the roaring crowd. "The Straight Edge Society is using the weapons, but the Undisputed System has the overwhelming numbers!"
For a brief, chaotic moment, the barbed wire gave Gallows and Mercury the upper hand. But you cannot fight a six on two numbers game forever.
Big E recovered, completely ignoring the pain in his ribs, and speared Gallows violently into the steel ring steps. Drew caught Joey Mercury with a devastating Glasgow Kiss headbutt, dropping the smaller enforcer to the floor. The golden army swarmed them, raining down heavy boots and taking the barbed wire bats away.
Inside the ring, the referee was completely distracted by the absolute carnage unfolding on the outside. He was leaning through the ropes, screaming at the enforcers to stop, entirely ignoring the two men he was supposed to be officiating.
Sandro, having recovered from being dropped off Punk's shoulders, watched the chaos with a cold, satisfied smirk. His army was doing exactly what they were paid to do.
But while the heavyweights brawled, Ziggler saw an opportunity to secure his place in the God King's favor. Ziggler quickly reached under the ring apron, pulling out a heavy steel folding chair. He checked to make sure the referee was still distracted, then ran to the opposite side of the ring, preparing to slide the weapon in to Sandro.
Ziggler raised the chair, ready to slide it under the bottom rope.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the front row of the Boston crowd.
Dressed in civilian clothes, his face hidden beneath a dark hoodie, the man leaped over the security barricade with shocking speed. Before Ziggler could even react, the hooded figure grabbed Ziggler by the hair and violently slammed his face into the steel ring post!
Ziggler collapsed instantly, dropping the steel chair.
Woods, seeing his tag team partner go down, abandoned his post guarding the Queens and charged toward the hooded figure.
But from the other side of the ring, a second man emerged from the timekeeper's area.
"Wait a minute!" Cole screamed, absolutely losing his mind. "Who is that?! Who just took out Ziggler?!"
As Woods charged, the second man intercepted him. With blinding speed and explosive power, the man hit and nearly took Woods' head off with a devastating, running clothesline!
The Boston crowd erupted into an absolute frenzy of pure, unadulterated shock.
The first hooded figure pulled back his hood, revealing the chaotic, black and white face paint. It was Chris Jericho! The Painmaker had returned!
The second man, who had just turned Xavier Woods inside out, stood up and threw off his dark jacket, revealing his iconic bull tattoo. It was The Rock!
"THE ROCK AND JERICHO!" Lawler shrieked in absolute delight. "THEY ARE HERE! THEY ARE NEUTRALIZING THE UNDISPUTED SYSTEM!"
"This is completely illegal!" JBL roared, his face turning purple. "Arrest them! Get them out of the building! They have no business being out here!"
Seeing The Great One and The Painmaker stalking toward them, Heyman let out a high pitched scream of terror. AJ, Nikki, and Alexa quickly pulled the Special Advisor backward, retreating into the crowd, wanting absolutely no part of the two furious legends.
Inside the ring, Sandro Zhang had finally realized that his foolproof plan was entirely falling apart. He saw Jericho standing over Ziggler. He saw The Rock standing over Woods. The God King's eyes widened in genuine panic. His protective shield had been completely shattered.
But Sandro had made a fatal error. He had taken his eyes off his opponent.
CM Punk saw the distraction. He knew the referee was still turned around, arguing with Big E and Ryback on the other side of the ring.
Punk didn't hesitate. He gave Sandro a taste of his own ruthless medicine.
Punk stepped forward and delivered a devastating, blatant low blow, kicking Sandro squarely in the groin!
Sandro's eyes rolled back in his head. The God King crumpled forward, gasping for air, completely paralyzed by the agonizing, illegal strike.
The Boston crowd roared with approval. They didn't care about the rules, they just wanted the tyrant to fall.
Punk grabbed Sandro, hauling the paralyzed champion onto his shoulders. Punk looked directly at the hard camera, a wild, desperate, triumphant fire burning in his eyes.
He threw Sandro into the air and brought his knee up with everything he had left.
CRACK!
The Go To Sleep connected perfectly flush on Sandro's chin!
The God King's body went completely limp, crashing heavily to the canvas.
Punk didn't waste a microsecond. He dove onto Sandro, hooking both legs as tightly as his battered body would allow, burying his face into the mat.
The referee, having finally given up on restoring order on the outside, spun around. He saw the cover. He didn't see the low blow. He dove to the mat.
"This is it!" Cole screamed, his voice cracking with emotion. "CM Punk is going to do it! He's going to end the Triple Crown Era!"
One!
The Boston crowd counted along, the noise level reaching an absolute fever pitch.
Two!
"Ring the bell! Ring the bell!" Lawler cheered.
Two and three quarters!
Two and nine tenths!
Sandro violently, miraculously thrust his shoulder upward, breaking the pinfall just a millimeter before the referee's hand hit the mat for the three count.
The TD Garden let out a collective, breathless gasp, a massive mixture of shock, disappointment, and awe.
"I don't believe it!" Striker yelled, completely stunned. "Sandro Zhang kicked out! He took a low blow and a GTS, and he still kicked out! The sheer resilience of the God King is inhuman!"
"He is a God among men, Matt!" JBL cackled, a massive wave of relief washing over him. "You cannot kill a God with cheap shots! CM Punk just threw his best pitch, and it wasn't enough!"
Punk immediately sat up, his eyes wide with absolute, horrifying shock. He ran his hands through his sweat drenched hair, staring at the referee, begging him to say it was three. The referee shook his head, holding up two fingers. Panic began to set in. Punk realized he had hit his best shot, he had bent the rules, and it still wasn't enough.
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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