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On the ramp, Big E and Ryback were finally forced back under the sheer power of the Brothers of Destruction, but the damage was done. Undertaker and Kane stood tall, staring toward the ring, fury evident, but too late.
The damage was done.
SmackDown had lost the WWE Tag Team Championships.
And the Undisputed System stood victorious once again, titles raised high amid a storm of boos, dominance cemented through chaos, and the message of dominance was unmistakable.
The Undisputed System didn't linger.
They never did.
As the boos rained down like a physical force, Sandro Zhang made a sharp, almost dismissive gesture with his hand. Instantly, the group began to move as one, slipping away from ringside, hopping the barricade, melting into the sea of furious fans.
Barrett and McIntyre clutched the WWE Tag Team Championships tight to their chests, grinning through sweat and exhaustion, while Kofi and Ziggler vanished just as fast as they'd appeared moments earlier followed by Jericho.
Paul Heyman followed close behind Sandro, clutching the Money in the Bank briefcase like it was oxygen, his eyes wide, his face flushed with manic satisfaction.
Alexa Bliss laughed openly as she backed away, raising her Divas Championship high just to draw more venom from the crowd. Big E and Ryback retreated last, slow and deliberate, never turning their backs until they were well clear of the ramp.
On the stage, The Undertaker and Kane stood tall, unmoving.
Two immovable forces.
The Brothers of Destruction watched the Undisputed System disappear into the crowd, their expressions unreadable but dangerous. Kane's jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack. Undertaker's eyes never left Sandro's back, burning with quiet fury.
Grisham's voice was heavy with disbelief. "They ran. They knew better than to stay."
Striker was still seething. "And they still got away with it. SmackDown just lost the WWE Tag Team Championships in one of the most blatant robberies we've ever seen."
In the ring, R-Truth lay flat on his back, staring at the lights, chest rising and falling rapidly. Morrison sat beside him, one arm draped over the bottom rope, face twisted in frustration and pain. Around them, the noise of the crowd swelled, not celebration, outrage.
The referee knelt beside the fallen champions, checking on them, but there was nothing to undo what had already happened.
The damage was done.
SmackDown had lost the WWE Tag Team Championships.
And the Undisputed System had once again proven that they didn't need honor to win, only opportunity.
The camera lingered one last time on Undertaker and Kane, still standing on the stage like sentinels, before cutting away.
The show had to go on.
And it did, almost abruptly.
Before the audience could fully process the loss, SmackDown rolled forward, match after match filling the night. Hard hitting singles bouts. Backstage interviews filled with frustration and resolve. Wrestlers pacing in locker rooms. Their opponents stretching, taping wrists, muttering promises to themselves.
But the atmosphere had changed.
Everything felt heavier.
Every pop from the crowd was tinged with anger. Every cheer came with a bitter undercurrent. No matter what happened in the ring, the conversation kept circling back to one thing.
The Undisputed System.
Grisham and Striker brought it up constantly on commentary, unable, and unwilling, to let it go.
"You can feel it," Grisham said during a mid-card bout. "The mood in this building has shifted."
Striker agreed. "SmackDown is fighting uphill now. Titles are gone. Momentum is slipping. And the Undisputed System is at the center of it all."
Backstage, cameras caught wrestlers watching monitors, shaking their heads. Some looked angry. Some looked worried. Some looked determined.
On social media, the reaction was immediate and explosive.
Fans flooded Twitter with outrage. Clips of the interference spread like wildfire. Hashtags trended within minutes #UndisputedTheft, #SmackDownRobbed, #SandroWarningIgnored. Wrestling journalists and analysts weighed in, dissecting every second, every distraction, every calculated move.
And through it all, one question kept coming up.
Would anyone stop them?
By the time the show crept toward its final stretch, the energy in the building had shifted again, from anger to anticipation.
Because everyone knew what was next.
The main event.
The Intercontinental Championship.
Grisham's tone sharpened as the camera returned to the commentary desk. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are moments away from our main event tonight."
Striker nodded. "And after everything we've seen, everything that's happened… this match carries enormous weight."
They didn't say it outright, but it was understood.
This was about more than a title.
"This is Christian's fight," Grisham continued. "Not just to retain the Intercontinental Championship, but to stand up for SmackDown."
Striker leaned forward. "And after what the Undisputed System has done tonight, I hope with everything I have that Christian walks out still champion."
The lights dimmed slightly.
Tony Chimel's voice echoed through the arena, formal and booming.
"Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is scheduled for one fall… and it is for the WWE INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP!"
The crowd roared in anticipation.
Then—
SHOCK THE SYSTEM!
The words slammed onto the screen as the lights cut out.
A wave of boos instantly flooded the arena.
Gold light flickered to life as the Undisputed System's music hit once again, that familiar, ominous pulse vibrating through the building.
Grisham groaned audibly. "Here they are… again."
Striker's voice was sharp. "They just don't stop."
Kofi Kingston emerged first, stepping onto the stage with a focused expression, eyes forward, jaw set. He rolled his shoulders, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
Beside him—
Sandro Zhang.
The United States Championship gleamed around his waist, catching the gold light as he stepped into view. His expression was calm, controlled, almost serene. No smile. No theatrics. Just authority.
Behind them came Paul Heyman, gripping the Money in the Bank briefcase tightly, eyes darting left and right. Alexa Bliss followed, Divas Championship snug around her waist, smirking as she soaked in the hatred.
Then Big E and Ryback emerged, World Tag Team Championships resting heavily on their shoulders, both men radiating brute confidence.
Wade Barrett and Drew McIntyre came next, proudly hoisting the newly won WWE Tag Team Championships high, drawing another wave of deafening boos.
Dolph Ziggler stepped out, nodding slowly, soaking in the reaction.
And finally—
Chris Jericho.
Jericho emerged last, hands on his hips, expression unreadable. The boos were relentless, almost drowning out the music itself. He didn't react. He simply stared back.
The entire Undisputed System stood together on the stage, a wall of gold and arrogance.
Tony Chimel swallowed hard before continuing.
"Introducing the challenger… representing the Undisputed System… accompanied to the ring by the WWE United States Champion Sandro Zhang, the RAW General Manager and Special Advisor Paul Heyman, the WWE Divas Champion Alexa Blis, the World Tag Team Champions Big E and Ryback, the WWE Tag Team Champions Wade Barrett and Drew McIntyre, Dolph Ziggler, and Chris Jericho…"
The boos intensified.
"From Ghana, West Africa… weighing 212 pounds… KOFI KINGSTON!"
Kofi raised one arm slightly as the Undisputed System began their walk down the ramp, Sandro leading them like a general at the head of an army.
Grisham shook his head. "This is excessive. This is intimidation."
Striker added, "They're trying to stack the deck before the bell even rings."
At ringside, Sandro stopped and gestured for the others to fan out. The group took their positions near Kofi's corner, forming a visible, intimidating presence. Kofi slid into the ring and climbed the turnbuckle, throwing his arms out as the boos poured down.
Then—
Christian's music hit.
And the reaction flipped instantly.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Christian stepped onto the stage, the Intercontinental Championship strapped proudly around his waist. He paused, soaking it in, nodding slightly.
But he wasn't alone.
Rey Mysterio emerged beside him, mask gleaming under the lights. Then Kane, the World Heavyweight Championship over his shoulder. Then The Undertaker, silent and imposing.
And finally—
R-Truth and John Morrison.
Battered. Bruised. But standing.
The ovation grew louder, stronger, fueled by emotion.
Grisham's voice lifted. "Christian brought backup. Smart move."
Striker nodded. "After what happened earlier tonight, he wasn't taking chances."
The group made their way down the ramp together, eyes locked on the Undisputed System. There was tension in every step, every glance.
Tony Chimel raised his voice again.
"And introducing the champion… accompanied to the ring by the World Heavyweight Champion Kane, The Undertaker, Rey Mysterio, R-Truth, and John Morrison…"
The cheers surged.
"From Toronto, Ontario, Canada… weighing 227 pounds… he is the WWE INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION… CHRISTIAN!"
Christian slid into the ring and climbed the turnbuckle, raising the Intercontinental Championship high as the crowd roared. At ringside, Kane, Undertaker, Rey, Truth, and Morrison took their positions, standing guard.
Sandro watched from across the ring, expression unreadable.
Christian hopped down, turned, and handed the title to the referee.
The referee held it up, turning to show Kofi.
Then he turned, raising it high in the center of the ring for the fans to see.
The gold gleamed under the lights.
The referee handed it to the ringside crew.
Then he stepped back and signaled for the bell.
DING DING DING!
The bell echoed through the arena, sharp and final, and instantly the noise swelled to a fever pitch.
Christian and Kofi Kingston stood in opposite corners, eyes locked, chests rising and falling. The Intercontinental Championship loomed over the match like a crown everyone in the building understood the weight of. This wasn't just about gold. This was about pride. About defiance. About whether SmackDown still had a spine.
Grisham leaned forward at the desk. "Here we go. This is it. Intercontinental Championship on the line."
Striker's voice carried clear disdain. "Christian is fighting with the entire brand on his back tonight. And you know Kofi Kingston doesn't care about that. He's here to take another title for the Undisputed System."
Around the ring, both sides held their ground. Sandro stood motionless near Kofi's corner, arms folded, unreadable. Across from him, Undertaker and Kane didn't move an inch, silent warnings in human form. Rey Mysterio stood ready, Truth and Morrison leaning on the barricade, battered but alert. Nobody crossed the line. Not yet.
Christian stepped out of his corner first, rolling his shoulders, eyes never leaving Kofi. Kofi did the same, bouncing lightly on his feet, loose, confident, coiled.
They circled.
The crowd hummed, anticipation crackling.
They locked up.
Kofi shot in low, quick, transitioning into a side headlock, wrenching it tight. Christian planted his feet, shoved him off into the ropes, leapfrogged the return, then ducked low. Kofi rebounded again, springing into a crisp arm drag that sent Christian skidding across the canvas.
The crowd reacted immediately.
Christian popped up, nodding, a tight grin forming on his face.
Grisham smiled. "That's respect. Christian knows he's in for a fight."
They locked up again. This time Christian shifted his weight, snapping Kofi into a headlock of his own, grounding him. Kofi rolled through, kipped up smoothly, and twisted free, catching Christian with a lightning-fast dropkick to the chest.
Christian staggered back into the corner.
Kofi didn't hesitate. He charged, Christian moved.
Kofi hit nothing but turnbuckle, jolting hard.
Christian snapped forward with a snapmare, followed by a low dropkick to the back of Kofi's head. He covered.
ONE!
Kofi kicked out immediately.
Striker scoffed. "Too early for that. Kofi's not that easy to put away."
Christian stayed on him, grabbing a wrist, transitioning into an arm wringer, grinding it down, slowing the pace. He stomped the shoulder, keeping pressure, methodical, experienced.
Kofi gritted his teeth, rolled through, and fired back with a sharp kick to Christian's thigh. Another. Then a third. Christian winced as Kofi exploded forward with a leg lariat that took the champion down.
The pace shifted instantly.
Kofi pressed the advantage, hitting a standing double stomp to Christian's midsection, then a quick cover.
ONE!
Christian kicked out.
Kofi dragged him up, snapping off a European uppercut, then another. Christian fired back with one of his own. The two traded strikes in the center of the ring, each blow echoing.
Grisham's voice rose. "Listen to this crowd! Every shot matters!"
Christian ducked a wild swing and nailed a spinning back elbow. Kofi stumbled. Christian followed with a snap suplex, rolled through, and hit a second. He floated over, looking for a third—
Kofi blocked it, shifted his weight, and countered into a sudden SOS!
Christian bounced hard off the mat.
Kofi covered.
ONE!
TWO!
Christian kicked out, rolling a shoulder free at the last second.
Striker exhaled sharply. "That was close." Kofi sat back on his heels for a moment, breathing hard, then nodded to himself. He grabbed Christian, pulling him to his feet, and whipped him into the corner.
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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