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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"I see the narrative weight of what you're saying, Sandro," Vince finally responded, his voice measured. "The paranoid tyrant is a classic, highly effective wrestling trope. It naturally builds incredible heat. But from a business perspective, I personally feel you should execute a fresh character shift right now upon your return. If you introduce a new, highly marketable persona while you still have the WWE and World Heavyweight titles in your hands, we can maximize merchandise sales instantly. We can double the revenue before you ever drop the gold."
Sandro let out a soft laugh, gently shaking his head. "If we do it that way, Vince, it's far too boring. It defies the emotional logic of the story. If the God King gets beaten, loses his army, and then just walks out the next week with a cool new gimmick while still holding the ultimate prizes in the industry, the fans won't buy the struggle. They'll just see it as a corporate reset. But if we make them watch his sanity slowly unravel as he desperately clutches those two belts... if we show him growing more vicious and isolated by the week... the payoff when he finally loses those titles will be legendary."
The conversation quickly evolved into a deep, intense creative debate. For two full hours, the top star and the Chairman of the Board went back and forth over the phone, meticulously dissecting the psychological elements of the product.
They discussed specific promo structures, the timing of video packages, and how the remaining roster members would interact with the shadow of the champion. They debated which babyfaces would be the best choices to slowly chip away at the God King's remaining sanity, and how Bobby Lashley's rising threat would factor into Sandro's backstage paranoia.
By the time the call finally concluded, both men had reached a definitive, highly detailed agreement. The corporate roadmap was locked in, and the creative trajectory for the summer was officially set.
Days passed quickly, and Monday evening finally arrived. The professional wrestling world converged once again upon the KeyArena in Seattle, Washington, for the highly anticipated post Pay Per View edition of Monday Night RAW.
The moody, rain slicked streets outside the venue did absolutely nothing to damp the spirits of the thousands of fans who had flocked into the building. The arena was packed to maximum capacity, the air thick with the buzzing energy of a crowd that had just witnessed an unforgettable weekend of action.
They were eager to see the immediate fallout from Over The Limit, desperate to know what the future held for the newly crowned United States Champion Drew McIntyre and the absolute wreckage left behind by the main event.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The broadcast kicked off with a massive, deafening display of opening pyrotechnics that shot high into the arena rafters, illuminating the sea of roaring fans and colorful homemade signs. The camera panned rapidly across the front rows before cutting directly to the ringside broadcast table.
"Welcome, everyone, to a historic edition of Monday Night RAW!" Cole shouted into his microphone, his voice dripping with excitement. "We are live from the beautiful Pacific Northwest here in Seattle, Washington! I am Michael Cole, joined as always by Jerry 'The King' Lawler and John Bradshaw Layfield, and gentlemen, the landscape of this company has been completely upended after the events of this past Saturday!"
"You aren't kidding, Cole!" Lawler cheered, waving to the crowd. "Drew McIntyre is the new United States Champion, the World tag titles have found a home with the Usos, and Bobby Lashley somehow survived the Beast! The fans here in Seattle are absolutely electric tonight!"
JBL aggressively slammed his notes onto the table, his face twisted in a deep, familiar scowl. "Electric?! They are celebrating a total collapse of law and order! Drew McIntyre is a backstabbing thief, the Usos beat a team of circus performers, and Bobby Lashley is a dishonorable coward who had to resort to consecutive low blows just to avoid being carried out on a stretcher! Tonight should be a night of mourning for the Undisputed System, and you two are treating it like a holiday!"
"Lashley did what he had to do to survive an Unsanctioned Match, John!" Cole countered fiercely. "And tonight, we are going to find out exactly what the fallout—"
Cole's commentary was violently cut off.
The live television feed didn't transition to the ring. Instead, the screen flickered aggressively, instantly cutting away from the arena bowl to a live backstage camera feed. The massive TitanTron in the arena mirrored the broadcast, and the thousands of fans in attendance immediately let out a collective, thunderous gasp that rapidly morphed into a deafening roar of pure shock.
The camera was positioned in the concrete backstage parking lot, right near the loading dock where the massive production trucks and talent rental cars were stationed.
The scene was absolute, unmitigated chaos.
A loud, sickening thud of flesh striking steel echoed through the broadcast speakers. Brock Lesnar, his face twisted in a mask of pure, homicidal rage, had Bobby Lashley pinned aggressively against the side of a massive, black production truck.
The Beast had clearly ambushed the Dominator the very second Lashley arrived at the arena. Lesnar's fight shorts were already covered in dirt, and a thick streak of dark blood was visible above his left eye, but he looked completely unbothered by the damage.
"Oh my god!" Cole shrieked, his professional demeanor instantly evaporating. "We have a massive commotion in the parking lot! It's Lesnar and Lashley! They are tearing each other apart before the show even hits the ring!"
"Look at the rage in Brock Lesnar!" Lawler yelled, leaning closer to his monitor. "He didn't forget what happened on Saturday night! This is pure retribution!"
"Kill him, Brock!" JBL roared, completely throwing away any pretense of neutrality. "Break the traitor in half! Squash him against that truck! Show this ungrateful mercenary what happens when you cross the line!"
Inside the parking lot, the brawl was incredibly intense and deeply brutal. Lesnar aggressively threw a series of short, stiff, bare knuckle right hands directly into Lashley's ribs. The sound of the impacts was clear and heavy. Lashley groaned, his eyes widening in pain, but the former multi time amateur champion refused to go down easily.
Drawing on his own immense, functional strength, Lashley aggressively drove his knee straight into Lesnar's midsection, forcing the Beast to momentarily break his iron grip. The moment he was free, Lashley violently threw a heavy, looping right hook that connected flush across Lesnar's jaw.
The blow staggered the Beast, forcing him back two steps. But instead of falling, Lesnar simply stopped, wiped a smear of blood from his mouth, and let out a chilling, deeply psychotic laugh.
"He's laughing, Cole!" Lawler winced in genuine fear. "The more you hit him, the angrier he gets!"
The two monsters collided again in the center of the asphalt lot, throwing heavy, unscripted strikes with zero regard for form or safety. Nearby, a group of lower card wrestlers, including a terrified Zack Ryder and a wide eyed Santino Marella, instantly scrambled out of the way, aggressively pushing themselves against the concrete walls to avoid the path of destruction.
WWE referees, led by a frantic Charles Robinson and Jack Doan, rushed into the frame, waving their arms and screaming for the two men to stop.
"Back up! Separate them! Get security down here right now!" Robinson shrieked, his voice hitting a high, panicked octave.
But their intervention was completely futile. Lesnar didn't even look at the officials, he simply swung his massive left arm backward, violently swatting a senior WWE producer completely off his feet and sending him crashing hard into a stack of empty plastic equipment crates. The rest of the referees quickly backed away, realizing that stepping between the two heavyweights was an invitation to a hospital visit.
"Get out of the way, you idiots!" JBL shouted into his headset. "Let them fight! Let the Beast finish the job!"
Lashley aggressively grabbed Lesnar by the head, utilizing the environment to his absolute advantage. The Dominator violently drove Lesnar's forehead straight into the hood of a nearby silver rental sedan.
BANG!
The metal visibly dented under the sheer force of the impact, the car's security alarm instantly going off, adding a loud, rhythmic wailing sound to the absolute madness of the brawl. Lesnar stumbled backward, his forehead instantly splitting open, a fresh stream of dark red blood pouring down his face.
But the sight of his own blood only fueled the Beast. Lesnar let out a terrifying, guttural roar that echoed off the concrete pillars of the garage. He lunged forward, completely ignoring the strikes Lashley was throwing, and wrapped his thick arms tightly around the mercenary's waist.
With a breathtaking display of raw, animalistic power, Lesnar lifted the 270 pound Lashley clear off his feet and violently launched him backward with a soaring German Suplex straight onto the hard, unforgiving asphalt of the parking lot!
"On the concrete!" Cole screamed in absolute horror. "A German Suplex on the asphalt! Bobby Lashley's spine might be shattered!"
"This is an absolute warzone, Cole!" Lawler added, his voice trembling. "There are no mats out there! There are no ropes to save you!"
Lashley crashed heavily onto his back, his head narrowly missing the sharp edge of a concrete curb. He rolled over onto his side, gasping for air, his face contorted in pure, unadulterated agony. The sheer impact of the fall had clearly sent a massive shockwave of pain straight through his body.
Lesnar stood over him, panting heavily, blood dripping from his chin onto his own bare chest. The Beast wasn't looking for a pinfall, he wanted to end the mercenary's career.
Lesnar aggressively grabbed Lashley by the combat vest, hauling the heavy powerhouse back to his feet. He began dragging him toward a heavy, solid steel loading dock gate, clearly preparing to smash Lashley's skull into the metal.
Technical crew members, camera operators, and arena stadium staff frantically scattered in all directions, abandoned their equipment posts, and dove behind security walls to clear a path for the two brawling titans.
"Brock Lesnar is completely out of control!" Cole yelled over the loud, wailing car alarm. "Someone needs to get the D.C. police down here! This is an absolute assault!"
"It's beautiful is what it is!" JBL countered wildly, his voice filled with vindictive glee. "Lashley wanted an Unsanctioned Match on Saturday, well he's getting an unsanctioned reality check tonight! Break his ribs, Brock!"
Lashley, despite the intense pain racking his body, refused to surrender to the slaughter. As Lesnar dragged him past the open driver's side door of a nearby running WWE official vehicle, Lashley found his opening. The vehicle belonged to a senior talent relations official who had just stepped out to check on the commotion, leaving the engine running and the keys in the ignition.
Lashley aggressively threw a desperate, blindingly sharp low blow, driving his fist directly between Lesnar's legs for the third time in forty eight hours.
The Beast instantly froze, the air violently leaving his lungs as he let out a sharp, agonizing wheeze. His iron grip relaxed, and he dropped straight to his knees on the asphalt, his hands instinctively clutching his midsection as the familiar, paralyzing pain short circuited his body.
"Another low blow!" Lawler shrieked. "Lashley went below the belt again!"
"It's the only way the coward can survive!" JBL spat, his joy instantly turning into pure fury. "He has zero integrity! He's a disgrace to the business!"
Lashley didn't waste a single fraction of a second to gloat. He knew that the moment the pain receded, Lesnar would murder him. The Dominator aggressively turned toward the running vehicle, shoved the stunned WWE official violently out of the way, and threw his massive frame into the driver's seat.
He slammed the door shut and aggressively shifted the transmission into reverse.
SCREEEEEECH!
The tires screamed violently against the concrete floor as Lashley hit the gas, the vehicle flying backward out of the loading zone, narrowly missing a massive concrete pillar.
Lashley quickly spun the steering wheel, shifted into drive, and accelerated violently out of the arena parking lot, the vehicle speeding down the exit ramp and disappearing completely into the dark, rainy Seattle night.
The camera aggressively panned back to Brock Lesnar. The Beast was slowly pushing himself up from his knees, his forehead covered in blood, his eyes wide and wild with a level of pure, unhinged fury that looked borderline demonic.
He realized his prey had escaped.
Lesnar let out a terrifying, high pitched shriek of absolute rage. He aggressively turned toward a nearby heavy plastic trash receptacle and violently kicked it, sending it flying across the garage lot, before slamming his massive, bloody fists repeatedly against the trunk of a parked sedan.
Paul Heyman finally ran into the frame, his face pale, his hands trembling as he cautiously approached his client from a safe distance, desperately trying to calm the monster down.
The live backstage feed began to slowly fade out, transitioning back to the commentary desk where the three announcers sat in a state of stunned, wide eyed silence.
"Well... ladies and gentlemen," Cole stammered, his voice raw as he tried to stabilize the broadcast. "Bobby Lashley has officially fled the building. He managed to escape the wrath of the Beast tonight, but as you look at those images... you have to realize that this war is far from over."
"Bobby Lashley may have won the battle this past Saturday at Over The Limit... but Brock Lesnar is making it very clear that he intends to win the war. Will these two monsters ever be contained? We will find out as Monday Night RAW continues!" The screen gracefully faded to black, leaving the Seattle fans and the millions watching at home completely breathless.
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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)
Wrestlemania Record: 2 - 0 Main Event: 1 - 0