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Heyman stepped forward, finger pointed upward dramatically. "My Maestro," he said, "you have my word, Teddy Long will accept your condition. I will make sure of it. One way or another."
The fans booed viciously.
Cole could barely contain his disgust. "These people are unbelievable! If the Undisputed System gets the Intercontinental AND Tag Titles? RAW might genuinely become the top brand!"
Lawler, reluctantly, agreed. "Cole, imagine if they go into SummerSlam and walk out with everything… it would destroy SmackDown's credibility."
After that The rest of RAW continued in a whirlwind of chaos and anticipation. Segment after segment went by.
Every time a camera cut backstage, fans strained to see if SmackDown would break out of their room.
Security running around stressed.
Commentators losing their minds.
Fans eating it up.
And then—
The lights shut off.
SHOCK THE SYSTEM!
A metallic pulse echoed through the speakers, sharp, thunderous, instantly recognizable. Gold lights flickered. The arena booed so loudly the cameras shook.
The music hit full force and the arena washed in gold.
Smoke rolled across the entrance.
The Undisputed System stepped out.
Sandro Zhang walked front and center, United States title around his waist, wearing a black suit embroidered with thin gold threads, cut perfectly to his frame. He looked calm. He looked dangerous. He looked like a man who orchestrated chaos for fun.
Alexa Bliss stepped beside him, Divas Title shining under the lights.
Paul Heyman followed, clutching the bright green Money in the Bank briefcase like a piece of holy scripture.
Behind them marched the muscle.
Then Wade and Drew, walking with that arrogant swagger only champions could pull off. Then Big E and Ryback, the World Tag Team Champions, massive, intimidating, silent threats to the entire division. And finally Kofi, the hungry future challenger, bouncing on his heels.
The eight of them stopped at the top of the ramp and raised their titles, their confidence, their presence high above the deafening boos raining down.
The building felt alive.
Like it had a pulse.
Like the show had evolved beyond a script and into something breathing.
Cole yelled, "THE UNDISPUTED SYSTEM IS HERE! ALL EIGHT OF THEM! LOOK AT THIS!"
Lawler groaned, "Oh great. Just what RAW needed. The supervillains have arrived!"
The group slowly made their way down the ramp, every member perfectly in sync, every step a statement.
Sandro walked slower than the others, deliberate, imposing, savoring the hate of the crowd like oxygen.
Heyman wiped imaginary dust off the MITB briefcase.
Kofi and Big E taunted fans.
Ryback flexed.
Drew stared holes through the lens of the nearest camera.
Wade smirked like a king surveying peasants.
Cole practically gasped into the mic. "LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT THIS GROUP OF POWER DRUNK, CHAMPIONSHIP HOARDING TYRANTS!"
Lawler, despite himself, whispered, "Cole… that's a dynasty."
When they finally reached ringside, Sandro climbed the steps first, brushing his thumb across the United States Title plate before stepping into the ring.
Alexa entered right behind him.
Heyman ducked under the ropes.
Then the wall of champions followed.
The eight of them stood tall in the center of the ring, gold everywhere, arrogance everywhere, aura unmatched.
The crowd booed louder.
And Sandro smiled.
The camera zoomed in on Sandro's face, catching the faintest curl of satisfaction. He didn't need to speak yet; the arena's reactions already showed him everything he wanted. RAW hated him. SmackDown vowed to crush him. Twitter was a battlefield screaming his name. SummerSlam was already selling itself.
Heyman took the mic with theatrical precision.
"Ladies and gentlemen…" he said, pausing to let the crowd's hatred swell. "My name… is Paul Heyman."
Boos.
"And I stand here tonight beside eight individuals who have redefined what dominance means in WWE. Eight individuals who operate above brand lines, above politics, above corporate favoritism. Eight individuals who have turned this company upside down in less than several months."
Ryback nodded aggressively.
Drew cracked his knuckles.
Kofi paced like a lion in a cage.
Alexa rested the Divas Title over her shoulder like royalty.
Heyman gestured toward Sandro.
"And at the center of this movement, your United States Champion, your Mr. Money In The Bank, your Maestro, the man who took Madison Square Garden and reshaped it into his personal theater, SANDRO… ZHAAAANG!"
The boos nearly drowned Heyman's voice.
The Maestro took the microphone, slowly raising it to his lips.
He didn't shout.
He didn't roar.
He spoke in a calm, controlled voice that made every word heavier.
"SmackDown…" Sandro began, "enjoy your locker room. Enjoy your little visit. Enjoy your false confidence. Enjoy pretending that your titles are safe."
Kane's slow, deliberate breathing echoed from behind the locker room door backstage.
Sandro continued.
"At SummerSlam, the Undisputed System takes EVERYTHING."
Wade stepped forward. "And we do it with ease."
Drew added, "Just pray Teddy signs the contract."
Ryback growled, "If he doesn't, we'll MAKE him sign."
The entire arena booed again.
Cole was appalled. "These men have ZERO shame!"
Lawler muttered, "Honestly Cole… they might be able to do it."
Sandro raised his free hand.
The boos lowered in volume as tension replaced noise.
"That Intercontinental Title," Sandro said, eyes narrowing. "Kofi brings it home."
Kofi smacked his fist against the turnbuckle. "Oh I'm READY."
"The Tag Titles," Sandro continued, "come home to Wade and Drew."
The twe of them nodded in perfect synchronization.
"And the respect, the dominance, the final nail in SmackDown's coffin, that comes when the six of them, and the Maestro, destroy SmackDown's at the best and the biggest night of the summer."
He lowered the microphone slowly.
Then looked straight into the camera.
Right as Sandro's voice fell silent and the camera locked on his cold, unblinking stare, the arena suddenly exploded in a familiar drumbeat of horns.
"HOLLA, HOLLA!"
Teddy Long's music hit.
The crowd ROARED, loud enough that it almost shook the hard cam. A tidal wave of cheers swept through the arena as Teddy stepped out onto the entrance stage, not walking alone, but flanked by SmackDown's full artillery.
Kane, the World Heavyweight Champion, stood at Teddy's right like a walking apocalypse. The belt was strapped tight around his waist, metal gleaming under the lights. His eyes were locked on Sandro like a predator who had finally found something worth burning.
Christian stepped out next, Intercontinental Championship on his left shoulder, jaw clenched, pacing in place behind Teddy. He looked like a man itching for a fight he'd been promised weeks ago.
R-Truth and John Morrison held their WWE Tag Team Titles in their hands, gripping them almost like weapons. The two exchanged glances, Truth twitchy and furious, Morrison ice cold and hyper focused.
Then Rey Mysterio and Chris Jericho, two men with a rivalry deeper than half the company's history, both standing united behind Teddy long enough to glare daggers at the Undisputed System.
Seven SmackDown stars. Four champions and two legends and aces. Seven men who looked ready to start a war.
The audience erupted with a heat wave of adrenaline, this was what they wanted, the clash, the confrontation, the collision of two unstoppable brands.
Cole's voice cracked through commentary. "OH MY GOD! TEDDY LONG ISN'T ALONE! SMACKDOWN IS HERE IN FORCE!"
Lawler leaned forward on commentary, clutching his headset. "This, Cole, this is a damn army! Look at them! SmackDown isn't backing down tonight!"
Teddy raised the mic, the fans chanting his name, shouting encouragement, and drowning out the last echoes of his own entrance theme.
"Well, well, well… playas," he began, his voice booming with that classic Teddy cadence, "I gotta say, Sandro, I am truly surprised!"
The crowd cheered, hanging onto every word.
Teddy gestured at the Undisputed System inside the ring, all eight standing tall and broadcasting enough arrogance to light the entire city.
"I'm surprised," Teddy continued, "that you really think I would accept a condition THAT stupid! THAT one sided! THAT insulting to SmackDown!"
The fans cheered even louder.
"SmackDown! SmackDown! SmackDown!"
Sandro's eyebrow twitched.
Teddy pointed down toward the ring again. "You stand in that ring talking like RAW owes you the world, playa. Talking like I should BEG you to accept OUR challenge… but you forget one thing…"
He leaned in.
"You didn't challenge us. WE challenged YOU. And THAT means, SmackDown gets a say too!"
The whole arena went wild.
Cole shouted, "TEDDY LONG HAS A POINT! THIS IS A COMPLETELY ONE-SIDED DEAL! WHY SHOULD SMACKDOWN AGREE?"
Lawler added, "If SmackDown loses, RAW gets everything! But if the Undisputed System loses? What do THEY lose? NOTHING! Teddy isn't wrong!"
The fans chanted louder.
"COWARD! COWARD! COWARD!"
The arena thundered with the chant.
Cameras focused on Sandro's expression, an amused, irritated mix, a man only annoyed because the ants dared speak.
He lifted his mic.
"Coward? Really?" Sandro scoffed. "You challenged us. WE accepted… with a condition. It's common sense. Anyone with a functioning brain knows negotiations work that way."
He smiled coldly.
"Unless, of course… none of YOU have common sense. Which is exactly what it looks like."
The crowd exploded with louder boos, screaming insults, waving signs, flipping off the entire Undisputed System.
Teddy Long shook his head. "You can say whatever you want, Sandro. Common sense or not, SmackDown ain't stupid, and we ain't signing a one sided contract. We need something to GET if we win. And I got a proposition right here—"
Before he could finish, Heyman immediately strode forward, snatching Sandro's microphone from his hand with absolute trust and confidence.
"NO," Heyman barked, the crowd booing so loud it nearly drowned him out. "Teddy, whatever proposition you have, whatever pathetic compromise you think you're about to present, we're not considering it. We're not entertaining it. This is NOT a negotiation. This is a declaration."
The boos were deafening.
Heyman lifted the Money in the Bank briefcase for emphasis.
"This is what the Undisputed System DESERVES. And YOU… you're going to accept it. End of discussion."
The crowd lost it.
Cole shouted over the noise, "HEYMAN IS OUT OF HIS MIND! THIS IS RIDICULOUS!"
Lawler chimed in, "It's so one sided it's practically robbery!"
But before Teddy could even respond—
Kane started walking.
He didn't jog. He didn't sprint. He didn't break into a run.
He just walked, slow, furious, volcanic in presence, down the ramp with the World Heavyweight Championship gleaming on his waist.
The arena ERUPTED.
Christian followed immediately after him, eyes locked on Sandro like he'd been waiting months just to punch him in the face.
R-Truth and Morrison stormed right behind, yelling, shouting, throwing their arms up, pointing at the Undisputed System inside the ring.
Mysterio cracked his neck and sprang down the ramp like a missile.
Jericho marched with cold, precise aggression, scanning the Undisputed System like he was analyzing each of their weaknesses.
Teddy shouted, waving his arms desperately. "WAIT! STOP! STOP, DAMMIT! GET BACK! THAT'S ENOUGH!"
None of them listened.
Sandro's lips curled into the slowest, coldest smirk.
"Oh… now this is interesting," Wade whispered behind him.
"Let them come," Drew muttered.
Ryback slammed his fist into his palm, grinning.
"FINISH IT."
Sandro's voice dropped low, sharp as a knife. "Heyman. Alexa. Out."
Heyman instantly slipped out through the ropes, clutching the briefcase protectively. Alexa followed, sliding to the floor, title hanging tight on her shoulder, glaring at the chaos like she wanted in but trusted Sandro's judgment.
Meanwhile, Teddy continued screaming from the stage.
"STOP! SMACKDOWN, STOP! ALL OF YOU, STOP RIGHT NOW!"
But SmackDown wasn't listening.
Heyman shouted toward the back, "SECURITY! SECURITY! GET OUT HERE NOW!"
Within seconds, security guards sprinted past Teddy on the ramp, trying to flood around the incoming SmackDown stars.
Kane's temper snapped.
The Big Red Machine grabbed the first security guard by the throat and hurled him five feet backward.
The fans LOST THEIR MINDS.
"YES! YES! YES! YES!" they chanted.
That one spark ignited the entire powder keg.
Christian swung first, knocking a guard aside. Truth clotheslined another. Morrison spun into a corkscrew kick that took down two. Mysterio slid under one security guard and popped up with a dropkick. Jericho rammed a guard into the barricade.
The ramp devolved into complete chaos, security collapsing everywhere, bodies hitting the floor, the crowd SCREAMING as SmackDown bulldozed through the company's own officials.
Teddy Long practically had a meltdown.
"STOP! ALL OF YOU STOP THIS RIGHT NOW! THAT'S ENOUGH!"
But nothing, nothing, was stopping this war.
Inside the ring, Sandro raised his hand.
"Boys," he said calmly, almost excitedly, "we move."
Wade cracked his knuckles. Drew grinned with a wild glint in his eyes. Big E's smile stretched wide. Ryback shook with violent anticipation. Kofi crouched low, fists clenched, legs ready to leap.
Sandro tightened his jaw and stepped forward like a man ready to lead a battlefield charge. "Christian, Truth, Morrison, Mysterio, Jericho," Sandro ordered, "are yours." He pointed toward the biggest threat. "Kane… is mine."
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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
Other Achievements: 1x Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner & 1x Mr. Money In The Bank
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0