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The Undisputed System was in full control. And Sandro? Still in the cell. Watching. Waiting. Calculating. War Games was far from over. But the battlefield was already soaked with sweat, pain, and the echoes of every fan's roar. And soon, the final soldiers of each team would be unleashed.
Ryback and Big E stood tall, dragging Kurt Angle's near limp body like wolves pulling a prize back to their den. They hurled him into the connecting ring with a sickening thud, his body crashing against the mat and skidding a few inches.
The crowd winced collectively, the arena thick with the metallic echo of steel and pain. Without a shred of hesitation, Ryback was on him again, delivering heavy punches, thick forearms crashing down on the Olympian's skull. Big E joined in, lifting Kurt and driving him onto the mat with a thunderous belly to back suplex.
Ryback pulled Kurt up again, this time, lifting him into a suplex position, and Big E jumped to assist, turning the move into a monstrous double vertical suplex that rattled the cage and drew gasps from the fans. Kurt's body lay still for a moment, twitching slightly as he tried to recover. Every breath he took was a battle.
Meanwhile, across the cage, Drew McIntyre stood over Kofi Kingston's crumpled body. Kofi had taken a Claymore Kick full on, his face still etched with the impact. Drew wasn't done. He stomped Kofi's ribs, then yanked him up just to slam him back down with a snap suplex, all while shouting at him, "You should've stayed down!"
Wade Barrett had turned downright savage. Sting, the icon, was trying to push himself up using the ropes, only for Barrett to grab the very bat Sting had brought into the match and crack it against Sting's back.
The sound was brutal, bat on flesh, a sickening echo that traveled to the rafters. Sting collapsed with a howl, his back arched in agony as Barrett jabbed the bat into his shoulder, again and again, like a man possessed.
The Undisputed System was in total control.
And Sandro who is still locked in the iron cell.m watched with his arms crossed, expression unreadable. His eyes were tracking every movement, every shift in momentum, calculating risks and rewards like a chess grandmaster watching pawns fall before unleashing the queen.
The War Games had become a symphony of punishment, and Sandro was the composer biding his time before striking the final note.
Then—
TEN... NINE... EIGHT...
The crowd began to count with the screen.
SEVEN... SIX... FIVE...
A surge of hope filled the arena. Chants returned, fans stomping their feet in sync.
FOUR... THREE... TWO... ONE—
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The iron gate for Team TNA and FCW swung open, and Mick Foley turned to the final man before him. He patted Taylor Rotunda on the back with a fiery grin, yelling something inaudible but deeply encouraging. Taylor nodded, fired up, then sprinted down the ramp like a man with everything to prove.
Before reaching the cage, Taylor stopped. His eyes dropped beneath the ring skirt, he crouched down and pulled out a steel chair. The fans exploded in cheers. Taylor didn't just want to survive. He wanted to even the odds.
He charged up the steps and into the War Games cage. Drew McIntyre saw him first and sprinted in, but Taylor swung the chair like a hammer, smashing it across Drew's midsection with a thunderous CLANG! Drew fell to a knee and took another chair shot to the back that sent him face first into the mat.
Barrett turned and roared in anger, rushing him, but Taylor ducked, spun, and slammed the chair straight into Wade's gut, doubling him over. Then a final chair shot across Wade's spine making the Brit collapse near the ropes, writhing in pain.
The crowd was white hot now, the shift in momentum obvious and thrilling.
Taylor crossed into the other ring and locked eyes with Big E and Ryback. Both had just turned from their destruction of Kurt, finally realizing the tide was changing.
They stormed toward him, but Taylor used the chair with laser precision, one shot to Big E's ribs, another across Ryback's shoulders. A third chair shot hit Big E's legs, cutting him down, before Taylor turned and smashed the chair over Ryback's head. The steel bent with the impact, the crowd screaming in disbelief.
With that one chair as an equalizer, Taylor Rotunda turned the tide.
Kofi, battered and barely upright, used the ropes to pull himself to his feet. He nodded to Taylor before hitting a wild spinning enziguri that cracked Barrett across the temple.
Kurt Angle was stirring too, his Olympic grit shining through as he rolled to his knees and then up, clutching his ribs. Sting, ever the warrior, crawled to his bat and used it as a cane to get upright.
Team TNA and FCW were rising.
Now it was the Undisputed System who found themselves on the back foot. One by one, the members were getting hammered with hard hitting comebacks. Kurt German suplexed Big E across the ring.
Sting delivered a backhand bat shot to Ryback's jaw. Kofi nailed Trouble in Paradise on Drew McIntyre again, this time in full force. The crowd couldn't believe it, suddenly, the team they were rooting for had found a second wind.
The match had become total chaos, violent, glorious, and unrelenting chaos.
Barrett tried to crawl toward the cage door, trying to regroup but Taylor yanked him back in and delivered a leaping DDT right onto the steel connector between the two rings. The fans howled in response, and chants of "LET'S GO TAYLOR!" rang throughout the stadium.
And still—
Sandro stood in his cell. His lips curled ever so slightly.
Then came the familiar countdown—
TEN... NINE... EIGHT...
It was his time.
SEVEN... SIX... FIVE...
The fans, now fully behind Team TNA and FCW, tried to rally, but they all knew what was coming.
FOUR... THREE... TWO... ONE...
BUZZZZZZZZZ!
The gate opened. Sandro stepped out slowly, deliberately. He wasn't running. He didn't need to. He radiated poise and menace with every step. His black and gold gear glimmered under the cage lights. The crowd rained down boos, but Sandro walked like he owned the world.
He stopped at the base of the cage and looked underneath the ring. A small smile curved his lips as he pulled out a kendo stick and slid it into the ring. Then a second. Then...a table.
The audience exploded.
Sandro slid into the cage, set the table up near the ropes, and then, calmly, stepped through the ropes.
His first target? Taylor Rotunda.
Taylor had turned from pummeling Barrett but it was too late. Sandro swung the kendo stick like a whip, smacking Taylor across the spine with a vicious crack. Taylor howled, falling to a knee. Another crack, this time across the chest. Then Sandro kneed him in the face, sending Taylor sprawling.
Next came Kurt. He tried to lock in an Ankle Lock but Sandro reversed it with a mule kick and planted Kurt with a lightning quick Downfall DDT. The same move that won him titles. Kurt was out cold.
Sandro walked through the chaos, calling the shots like a general. "E, pick up Sting! Ryback, get Drew on his feet!"
It was his war now.
The Undisputed System regrouped under Sandro's leadership. Barrett limped toward Kofi and held him in place. Drew, blood trickling from his mouth, nodded as he prepared another Claymore.
Big E stacked a table in the corner while Ryback and Sandro double teamed Sting with slams and whips into the cage wall.
But Team TNA and FCW would not die easy.
Taylor got up again, refusing to stay down, wielding a kendo stick of his own now, swinging it with vengeance.
He caught Barrett again, then turned and cracked Big E, before jumping onto the ropes and launching himself onto Drew with a flying clothesline.
Kofi, despite the punishment, landed a springboard dropkick that knocked Ryback into the setup table. The table collapsed, and the crowd popped.
Sting delivered a Stinger Splash to Barrett, followed by a Scorpion Death Drop, roaring to the heavens.
And then—
Kurt Angle, somehow conscious again, locked Sandro in the Ankle Lock.
The roof blew off.
Sandro screamed, clawing the mat. The crowd was in a frenzy even though knowing the match wouldn't end yet. But at least in the eyes of the fans, Kurt could neutralize Sandro by destroying his ankle.
No.
Big E returned just in time to clobber Kurt off the hold, saving his leader.
Bodies were everywhere. Kendo sticks. Steel chairs. Bats. Splintered tables. Sweat and blood smeared across the canvas. A symphony of destruction.
But this was War Games. This was wrestling in its most brutal, beautiful form. It wasn't even close to over as the last ten second countdown began.
As the countdown ticked down once again, the crowd inside the arena surged with electric anticipation. Their voices grew louder, more fevered, not from dread but hope. The last man for Team TNA and FCW was about to enter and it wasn't just any man.
It was Mick Foley.
THREE... TWO... ONE...
BUZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The cell door burst open, and the audience erupted as the Hardcore Legend himself barreled out, flannel shirt flapping, wild hair bobbing as he charged down the ramp. His face bore that crazed grin fans knew all too well. War Games had been hell, but now, the devil himself had come home.
Foley didn't enter the cage right away. No, he made a stop. He bent down at the side of the ring, rummaged with purpose, and emerged holding a spiked baseball bat, its head wrapped with rust colored nails glinting under the arena lights.
The fans exploded at the sight of this brutal equalizer, a weapon symbolic of chaos and unrelenting pain. This wasn't a comeback. It was retribution.
Inside the ring, Sandro's face changed the second he saw it. His eyes narrowed like a hawk spotting a storm on the horizon.
He barked an order with one curt motion of his hand, and immediately, the Undisputed System began to fall back toward him, abandoning their brutal beatdowns on the members of Team TNA and FCW.
Sandro regrouped them like a tactician, the machine like Ryback, the powerhouse Big E, the bruising Drew McIntyre, and the dangerous calculating Wade Barrett all flanking him. Bruised, bloodied, but far from beaten, they formed a wall between Foley and their general.
Foley, ever the madman, didn't hesitate. He climbed the steel steps slowly, methodically, the spiked bat dragging behind him like a mythic weapon of doom. The second his boot stepped through the ropes, the cage announcer's voice thundered—
"LET THE WAR GAMES BEGIN!"
It was official now. Pinfall or submission would end it. But first? Carnage.
The second the bell rang, Foley launched himself forward with a roar that seemed to come from his soul. He swung the bat like a man possessed, and the nails found flesh immediately.
CRACK! The bat hit Ryback across the back, and the monster crumbled to the mat. WHACK! Big E caught one across the arm and recoiled, dropping to his knees. Drew rushed next but Foley turned and jabbed the bat into his gut, the nails catching Drew's vest and ripping at his skin.
The fans were in utter chaos, screaming, cheering, crying out for more.
Barrett lunged with a clubbing blow, but Foley turned and slammed the bat's head into Wade's chest. Barrett collapsed, gasping, his chest already showing crimson spots where the spikes hit. Foley had just mowed through four top tier athletes like a wrecking ball made of flesh and fury.
And then… there was Sandro.
He stood unflinching, expression unreadable. Calm. Calculated. Always.
As Foley stalked toward him, Sandro picked up a kendo stick from the canvas with one hand, twirling it like a blade. For a second, it looked like two knights preparing for a duel of old, only this battlefield was steel and blood and screams.
Foley raised the bat. Sandro the stick.
CLACK! The weapons met with a fierce echo.
Back and forth they went, a twisted sword fight. Foley swung the bat side to side, Sandro parried with the kendo, his movements slick, agile, serpent like. But Foley was relentless. He didn't wrestle. He survived. And just when it seemed like Sandro might gain the upper hand, Kofi Kingston, still battered but breathing, sprang to life and dove at Sandro's knee, clipping it with a basement dropkick.
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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