Becoming A Wrestler

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Sandro patted his shoulder with brotherly appreciation, then stood center ring. He waited. Let the moment breathe. The crowd simmered, restless. Then he lifted the mic. He took a slow breath, and that sinister smile stretched across his face like something out of a crime novel. "Isn't it beautiful," he began, voice low and smooth, "when a plan comes together?"

BOOOOOOO!

The arena thundered in rejection.

Sandro laughed, full bodied and vicious. Not amused, but delighted. Giddy, even. The sound echoed through the sound system in the arena like a villain enjoying the chaos he caused.

"You should've seen your faces," he continued. "All of you. So shocked. So angry. So, what's the word? Betrayed? You really thought War Games Advantage Night was really going to go your way, huh?"

He leaned on the ropes, eyes scanning the audience with amused contempt.

"You thought Mick Foley and his ragtag team of feel good legends and misfits had a chance against us? Against me?"

More boos. Loud ones. Some fans were screaming ""You suck!" Others chanted, "Foley! Foley!" in defiance to Sandro.

Sandro shook his head and raised a finger while swinging it left and right.

"No. Don't waste your breath chanting for him. That old relic? That carnival act? He walked right into the trap. Just like the rest of you. Because he, like all of you, believed in this silly little thing called justice. Fairness. Honor."

He sneered at the words.

")"Let me give you a newsflash," he said, drawing closer to the camera. "Justice doesn't help you win matches and stay on the top. Fairness doesn't earn you anything but defeat and losing my gold. Honor doesn't give gold. And these three things damn sure doesn't win War Games."

The Undisputed System behind him all started to chuckle, nodding in agreement. Stu adjusted his cufflinks. Big E cracked his neck. Drew polished his sunglasses with his pocket square. Ryback stood still looking at the crowd.

Sandro raised his voice now.

"You're all fools. Foley. Kurt. Sting. Kofi. Taylor. All of them. Idiots who believed we were just here to 'play fair.' You think I, Sandro Zhang, managed to stay on top of this division with or without a title and built an empire while at it by being fair? No. I built it by being smarter, stronger, and always three even four steps ahead."

The camera zoomed in. His eyes burned with intensity.

"And last week's plan…?"

He paused for dramatic effect. Then turned, gesturing toward the man beside him.

"That wouldn't have been possible without this man right here."

Stu stepped forward slowly.

Sandro clapped him on the back.

"My right hand. My strategist. My brother in arms. You all knew him as Stu Bennett. But that name?" Sandro shook his head with a smirk. "That name belongs to the past. Tonight, he is reborn. Tonight, the world will recognize him by his new name."

He looked directly into the hard cam and declared,

"Wade Barrett."

The crowd exploded again. More boos. More hatred.

Wade smirked and stepped forward to take his moment.

"I've got some bad news for you all," he said into the mic, voice thick with his trademark British snarl. "We're just getting started."

Sandro grinned like a devil. The other members clapped. Drew laughed. Big E nodded slowly. Ryback raised a single fist.

Sandro took the mic back.

"Let me say this loud and clear. Undisputed System doesn't just win matches. We win wars. And this Saturday night, inside War Games, we're not walking into a fight. We're walking into a coronation."

More boos.

Sandro licked his lips and shook his head, basking in it all.

"You can whine. You can rage. You can cry to your internet accounts and pretend like you're morally superior. But it won't change a thing."

He walked to the ropes again, leaning casually.

"You're not just watching the fall of TNA and FCW ragtag team. You're witnessing the rise of something greater. Undisputed dominance. Undisputed power. Undisputed control. Not only at one brand, but two brand."

He paused, then pointed directly at the camera.

"You will all acknowledge us. Acknowledge me."

The Undisputed System struck their signature pose, Sandro standing tall in the middle, Wade and Drew to his right, Big E and Ryback to his left, every man locked in, ready for war.

Then Undisouted System music hit again blaring through the speaker.

The arena was on fire now. Fans screamed, booed, shouted, cursed. The commentary team scrambled to catch up, talking about the implications, the chaos, the war to come at Saturday.

The show then ended, and the days that followed were filled with nothing but war preparation. Sandro and the Undisputed System vanished from the public eye, retreating into shadows and steel, sharpening their bodies and minds for the battle ahead.

No interviews. No media. No comments. Just silent domination behind closed doors. In private FCW training facilities, the group trained harder than ever. Sparring, weightlifting, studying tapes, and running strategy drills.

But Sandro? He wasn't just focused on brute strength. He had something more layered in mind. One night, under the flickering light of the corridor, he brought Alexa Bliss with him to a quiet meeting room tucked behind the main FCW offices.

There, Dusty Rhodes and Steve Keirn waited, faces stoic, eyes cautious. This wasn't a usual meeting. What they discussed would stay off the books. Just the four of them.

A secret plan. One that could ignite even more heat. One that could dominate fan chatter. One that, in Sandro's own words, would make people "feel that it become more dangerous than it was before."

Alexa leaned in, curiosity burning in her sharp blue eyes. "You really think the fans will buy it babe?"

"They won't just buy it," Sandro replied, "they will eat it up. With tears in their eyes."

Dusty didn't say much, but he nodded once, slowly. Steve looked satisfied, as the founder and booker of FCW, he understood showmanship, and more importantly, ratings.

"Let the world scream," Sandro finished, tapping the table with two fingers. "Just make sure the cameras keep rolling for the fans to see."

Then came Saturday.

The FCW War Games Pay Per View.

The medium sized stadium in Tampa was buzzing. A large sized arena packed to the brim, every inch taken by rabid fans who couldn't wait to see the Undisputed System go head to head with the TNA & FCW alliance.

Merchandise booths were overwhelmed. Chants rang even before the cameras rolled. Fans wore black "ACKNOWLEDGE THE UNDISPUTED SYSTEM" shirts, others in defiance rocking "TNA & FCW LAST STAND" homemade signs.

Backstage, in a private locker room decorated with only purpose and grit, the Undisputed System sat ready. Each man was in ring gear. Their bodies gleamed from warm ups, their minds sharp from weeks of drills. A monitor in front of them showed the opening match already beginning.

Bray Wyatt, flanked by the ominous Luke Harper and the mountain of a man, Erick Rowan, walked down the ramp under dimmed lights and flickering visuals. The FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion held his belt like a sacred artifact. His eyes distant. Possessed.

Across the ring stood Nick Nemeth, arrogant, confident, cowardly. The crowd booed him mercilessly, but Nick seemed unfazed, playing up his sneer and flipping off a kid in the front row just for extra heat.

The bell rang.

From the start, Bray Wyatt moved like a slow, deliberate storm. Nick circled him, dancing, mocking, teasing with fake tie ups and cowardly escapes. Every time Bray lunged, Nick rolled out of the ring or clung to the ropes. The crowd hated it, but that was the point.

Bray finally caught him with a single running crossbody that folded Nick like an accordion. The crowd exploded. From that point on, it was a masterclass in brutal storytelling.

Bray dragged Nick around like a ragdoll, smashing him with corner avalanches, brutal headbutts, and that eerie spider walk that made the crowd shriek every time. Nick sold everything like his body was made of paper and pain. Every slam, every elbow drop, looked like it broke something inside him.

At one point, Nick tried to crawl up the ramp, only for Bray to drag him back by the hair and throw him into the steel steps. Luke and Rowan stood by the ring like statues, their eerie silence more threatening than any interference.

The end came when Nick, desperate and wild-eyed, tried to hit Bray with a low blow. The ref didn't catch it, but Bray didn't even flinch.

He smiled.

Then he scooped Nick up, kissed his forehead like some twisted priest, and delivered Sister Abigail right in the center of the ring and goes for the pin.

1... 2... 3!

Bray retained.

He fell to his knees in the middle of the ring, raising the Florida Heavyweight Championship above his head like a preacher lifting a holy book. Luke Harper and Erick Rowan stand tall beside him, unmoving, unblinking, staring directly into the hard cam while holding their tag team titles.

The visual was chilling. Beautifully terrifying.

Backstage, Sandro watched with an approving grin. "Now that's an entrance to war," he muttered.

Several matches passed, each building more tension, more hype. But the crowd shifted again when the FCW Divas Championship was on the line.

Alexa Bliss, accompanied by Charlotte Flair, walked down the ramp with icy focus. Tonight fully gone was the remaining bubbly demeanor from weeks past. Tonight, Alexa looked angry. Cold. Like she was out for blood.

Her opponent, the FCW Divas champion, Davina Rose, stood tall with April at her corner, confident, determined, and with the gold around her waist.

The match started fast and aggressive. Alexa was a whirlwind of fury. She threw cheap shots, yanked hair, scratched backs, even screamed at the ref. Charlotte at ringside yelled to calm her down.

"You can be brutal," she shouted, "but don't cross the line, Alexa!"

But Alexa didn't care. She shoved Davina into the turnbuckle and stomped a mudhole into her. She faked injuries to distract the ref. She gouged eyes. She pulled tights. The fans began to boo louder and louder but not the kind of boos that say "we love to hate her." These were real. Passionate.

Charlotte's face changed. From concern to frustration.

Davina fought back. The champ fired off a hard elbow, then another. A snap suplex. A running knee. April banged the mat, urging her on. The tide was turning.

Alexa tried to cheat again, going for the ropes during a pin attempt but Charlotte knocked her feet off.

"What are you doing?!" Alexa screamed at her.

"Wrestle fair!" Charlotte fired back.

Davina seeing this distraction capitalized on it.

Boom. Rose Plant.

1... 2... 3!

Davina retained her title.

The crowd exploded in cheers. Alexa laid on the mat, her body broken and her emotions worse. Charlotte climbed in, kneeling beside her best friend.

"It's okay," she said gently, pulling her up. "It's okay. We'll bounce back. We get you another opportunity soon."

Alexa hugged her. Fans began to clap. A surprising wave of appreciation surged through the arena. Even those who booed Alexa now saw this, two friends, supporting each other. Charlotte's hand raised Alexa's. The crowd showed respect.

Then it happened.

Alexa, still locked in the hug, whispered something in Charlotte's ear.

And then she snapped.

Like a cobra, Alexa struck, clotheslining Charlotte to the mat with brutal suddenness. The crowd gasped, then erupted into deafening boos.

Alexa mounted her former best friend, raining down forearms. Screaming at her.

"This is your fault! I listened to you!"

The ref tried to intervene. April jumped into the ring. Alexa shoved her aside.

"YOU COST ME EVERYTHING!" Alexa shouted, red in the face.

She stormed out of the ring, leaving chaos behind her. The crowd showered her in venom, and she drank it all in like poison wine. Her walk backstage was icy, unapologetic, and filled with rage.

Backstage, Sandro stood near the monitor. He didn't look surprised.

Instead, he smiled.

"Perfect," he said to himself.

He turned to Drew, Ryback, Wade, and Big E. Each man nodded in silent approval. "It was time for our match," Sandro said to them. "Let's go out there and gave the beat performance we can for the fans, and also for our careers." The stage was now fully set. War Games was next. And the Undisputed System was ready.

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Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 20 (2010)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles

Faction: The Undisputed System

Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion