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He didn't answer immediately. His heart was racing with excitement and adrenaline. "I figured they'd go with Kurt or Sting again. Or maybe Styles making him a double champ, if they wanted the fans to tune it even more with fan favorite winning. But Bobby?" He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "That's a statement."
April tilted her head, eyebrows drawn together in puzzlement. "What do you mean by 'statement'?" she asked, her voice soft with curiosity.
Sandro smiled, and the tension in his jaw eased. He reached over and gently brushed her hair back, his fingers lingering for a second as they traced across her temple. "They want the fans to believe this will be a war," he said quietly, like he was letting her in on a secret. "Bobby Lashley… in terms of raw strength, dominance, presence, he's believable. Really believable. Put him in a ring with me, and people won't just think he can beat me… they'll expect it."
April's lips parted slightly, absorbing his words. She could see it now, the logic behind the booking. Bobby was no slouch. He had that aura, the kind that could make even the most skeptical fan sit up straight. Sandro leaned back a bit, a glimmer in his eyes.
"There are other wrestlers especially legends, sure," he continued. "But I already beat Kurt. I beat Sting. Those are the pillars, the top legends in the fans' eyes. So you can't just recycle them. Not if you want people to actually feel something. But Bobby? He's a veteran. Powerful. He's got momentum. And more importantly, he looks like someone who could take me down. That's what makes this good storytelling."
April nodded slowly, now understanding. "Makes sense," she murmured. "I can't wait to see the match you and Bobby put on. It's going to be a classic, isn't it?"
A soft smile spread across her face, and Sandro couldn't help but chuckle. He leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead, a small, affectionate gesture that spoke louder than words. For a few seconds, the room was filled with nothing but the hum of the TV and the warmth between them.
But then, the atmosphere shifted, subtle at first, like a cold breeze sneaking under the door. April's tone changed, and she glanced up at him with a mixture of apprehension and something heavier. "So…" she began slowly, "have you… made up your mind yet? About Alexa? Since that date you had with her last Saturday?"
Sandro froze.
His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment he looked like someone had just hit him with a chair. A sharp cough escaped his lips, and then another. He doubled slightly as he tried to recover, and April, alarmed, reached out and patted his back.
"Are you okay?" she asked quickly, concern etched into her expression.
Still caught in a coughing fit, Sandro managed to nod through it, his hand raised as if to signal that he'd be alright. Eventually, after a few more coughs and a swig of water, he calmed himself down. He exhaled slowly, then looked at her.
"I've been thinking about it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "A lot, actually. And… after that date with Alexa, something in me just shifted. I don't know how to explain it, but… the confusion I had before? It vanished. Just like that."
April didn't say anything right away. She just sat there, eyes focused on him. There was no judgment in them, no anger, but there was sadness, even if she tried hard to hide it.
Sandro continued, carefully choosing his words. "It's not just that she likes me… it's the way I saw her after that night. Everything changed. I can't lie to myself about it anymore."
April nodded slowly. She understood. Maybe she had seen it coming. She'd known Sandro long enough to recognize the shifts in his heart before he could even speak them aloud.
And as much as it stung, as much as a small part of her wanted to scream or cry or ask if she and Nikki isn't enough, but she didn't because she knew the choices she made from the start, the consequences of agreeing in polyamorous relationship.
She just smiled, fragile as it was, and spoke gently. "You don't need to explain, Sandro. If that's how you feel… then go ahead. Do what you need to do."
Her voice trembled slightly at the end, and her eyes shimmered, not from joy. But she kept the smile. For him. She always had.
Sandro saw it. That trace of pain beneath her words. And it hit him like a punch to the gut. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder.
"I'll make it up to you," he whispered. "To you and Nikki. If you both still want to be with me, I swear I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
April's hands clutched the back of his shirt. She didn't respond immediately. Just held on, her face pressed against his chest, hiding the tears that threatened to spill. In that embrace, a quiet understanding passed between them.
They sat like that for a long time, not needing words. Just presence. Just warmth. Meanwhile, outside their bubble of emotion, the world of wrestling was moving at its relentless pace.
The moment the TNA Impact Zone broadcast faded to black, the official TNA Twitter account lit up like a firestorm.
"BREAKING NEWS: @BobbyLashley is now the NUMBER 1 CONTENDER after winning the 20 man Royal Rumble for the TNA World Heavyweight Championship! He will sign the contract with the champion @SandroZhang next week on IMPACT to make their match at TNA Against All Odds official! #NewNo.1Contender #NextWeek #AgaintsAllOdds"
Within minutes, the post exploded with engagement. Thousands of likes. Retweets climbing by the second. Fans quote tweeting with excitement, shock, debate. The hype was building like a tidal wave.
And Sandro? He was ready to surf it.
In full heel mode, he retweeted the post with a caption that sent the internet into a frenzy:
@SandroZhang: "You think making Bobby Lashley the #1 Contender was smart? You just challenged not just me, but the ENTIRE Undisputed System. So next week… I won't be coming alone. Be ready. #AgainstAllOdds"
The quote tweet shot across timelines like wildfire. Fans speculated nonstop, Who's he bringing? Is it just Big E or the Entire Undisputed System? What will happen at the contract signing? Is this the beginning of a bigger war?
Backstage, the locker room buzzed with energy. Everyone felt it, TNA was stepping into something big. The kind of feud that could define TNA.
The next week's IMPACT was already being rewritten, producers huddling in urgent meetings, writers pitching segments. Lashley vs. Sandro was the kind of main event people bought tickets for. And the looming shadow of the Undisputed System only added fuel to the fire.
Back at Sandro's apartment, the man behind the tweets stood at the window, arms folded. He stared at the skyline, city lights twinkling in the distance. His phone buzzed with endless notifications, but he ignored them.
His mind wasn't on Twitter anymore. It was on the future.
On April and Nikki.
On Alexa.
On Lashley.
On everything.
Until a phone call woke him up.
The sharp buzz of his phone cut through the silence of the apartment. Sandro blinked, then turned his head from the window. His mind had wandered too deep,
into memories, futures, wars still to be fought, and the ring of reality had jolted him back.
He glanced at the caller ID.
It was the music producer.
The one he'd hired specifically to craft the Undisputed System's entrance theme, a track meant to be more than just noise. It had to be a declaration. A brand. An identity. The moment a crowd heard it, they needed to know something big was coming.
Sandro answered.
"Play it," he said without preamble, his voice low but eager.
From the other end, a beat crackled through. Then a pause. Silence, as if the universe held its breath.
And then—
"SHOCK. THE. SYSTEM."
The voice. The cadence. The tone, it was exactly how he remembered it. Not copied. Recreated. The raw power in the delivery, the distortion layered behind the words.
The synths kicked in, followed by a pounding industrial beat fused with gritty guitar riffs, the kind that sounded like the world cracking open. Basslines deep enough to shake arenas. A war anthem.
Sandro smiled.
Not just any smile but a satisfied one. That quiet, predator's grin. The kind of smile a man gives when every piece of his plan is falling perfectly into place.
"Perfect," he whispered, eyes shining.
Days passed again.
Moments melted together into routines of training, meetings, and mental prep. TNA was heating up with the announcement of Bobby Lashley as the number one contender, and the fans were rabid. Sandro had taken a calculated step back this week from FCW's Monday Live program, not out of disinterest, but because tonight… it was about the Undisputed System.
He arrived backstage early.
His presence wasn't advertised, but everyone felt it. A few backstage hands nodded his way. Others glanced, whispering after he passed. Sandro wasn't in gear, but in a tailored black suit with a blood red pocket square, elegant, sharp, ominous.
He clasped hands with Big E, shoulder bumped Ryback, gave Drew a brief nod, and pulled Stu into a quick huddle. No words were wasted. Just encouragement, strategy, reminders of the moment they were creating.
The FCW Monday Live broadcast opened like a thunderclap.
Match after match rolled out with fire and intensity. Promos cut sharp and clean. The audience, both in the arena and at home, was locked in.
But all of it was build up. A tease.
Everyone knew what was coming.
The main event segment. The moment the night was revolving around.
Out came Kofi Kingston, Taylor Rotunda, and two absolute legends, Kurt Angle and Sting.
The crowd roared as the four stood shoulder to shoulder in the ring, a symbol of resistance. The fans saw them as soldiers of virtue, fighting against the rise of tyranny embodied by Sandro and his crew.
Each man had a mic. Each one had a reason to speak.
Kofi stepped forward first, his usually bright demeanor shadowed by determination. His words were clear, fierce.
"Two weeks ago," he began, "we came out here to face Sandro. Not to fight. Not to throw fists. We wanted to talk, me and Taylor at least. To see if there was still a piece of our friend left in that body. But instead?"
He looked around.
"The four of us are challenged by him to come into the ring. Then? We got jumped. Attacked from behind like cowards. And I ended up with a concussion because Sandro… my former brother... decided to make an example out of me by kicking me hard. on the temple.."
There were gasps. Anger in the crowd.
Taylor spoke next, his voice steady, calmer but no less cutting.
"I've known Sandro since my debut, hell even before my debut as he helped me train here in FCW. We train together. We face big odds together. But now? He's surrounded himself with monsters. With mercenaries. And what hurts the most is… I don't think he sees how far he's fallen."
Sting followed, his presence alone enough to send chills through the building.
"There's no greater tragedy than watching someone with all the potential in the world throw it away chasing shadows. Sandro thinks he's building a legacy… but what he's really doing is destroying everything that once made him special."
Then Kurt Angle took the mic, and the arena nearly shook.
"You want a war, Sandro? You got one. I've fought legends. Champions. Tyrants. But I've never seen someone as delusional as you've become. You think you're leading an army, but what you've created is a cult. And it ends. Here."
The crowd popped hard, rallying behind the four.
Kofi took center again, fire in his voice.
"When we meet in this ring, Sandro, I'm not coming for a win. I'm coming to beat the madness out of you. To bring back the old Sandro, the one we all loved, the one we believed in. Not this puppet master hiding behind muscle."
That's when it happened.
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then they changed, washed in flickers of sharp gold.
Gasps spread through the arena.
On the titantron, a single phrase glitched into view in bold, fractured font:
SHOCK THE SYSTEM
But the O… wasn't an O. It was the symbol — the symbol — of the Undisputed System, a razor sharp, interlocked U and S sliced through the center like a surgical blade.
"SHOCK. THE. SYSTEM." a voice declared.
Then darkness.
Beat.
Silence.
And then, music. The new theme erupted, shaking the foundation of the arena. The crowd immediately booed, a wave of heat flooding the air.
The titantron now fully displayed the logo of the Undisputed System, bold letters flickering beneath: UNDISPUTED SYSTEM.
And out they came. Stu Bennett. Big E. Drew McIntyre. Ryback. All four dressed in sleek black suits, ties loosened just enough to drip attitude. Each man carried himself like a predator. No wasted motion. No smiles. No playing to the crowd. All with seriousness in their face.
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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