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But the crowd refused to stay quiet. "LET'S GO SAN-DRO!" they chanted in rhythmic waves. Sandro's fists clenched, his boot stomping against the mat in time with the chant. Slowly, he surged upward, elbowing Magnus in the ribs, breaking free, only for Magnus to wrench him down by the hair, slamming him hard.
Magnus roared, yanking Sandro up again and whipping him into the corner. He followed in with a big clothesline, then pulled Sandro out into a swinging neckbreaker. Another cover.
One!
Two!
Kickout.
Frustrated, Magnus dragged Sandro to his feet and whipped him into the ropes but Sandro ducked a clothesline, springboarded off the middle rope, and hit a flying crossbody that brought the crowd to their feet. Both men crashed to the mat. Sandro rolled away, slapping the mat, feeding off the crowd's energy.
Don West was losing his mind. "Look at this resilience, Mike! Sandro's got no quit in him!"
Both men struggled to their feet. Sandro struck first, peppering Magnus with sharp forearms, then scooping him up into a running powerslam, planting Magnus square in the center of the ring. He hooked the leg.
One!
Two!
Magnus kicked out.
Sandro exhaled sharply, brushing the sweat from his brow. He pulled Magnus up but Magnus raked the eyes again, earning a loud chorus of boos.
He shoved Sandro into the ropes, but Sandro reversed sending Magnus flying into the air with a thunderous back body drop that shook the ring. The crowd was nearly unglued.
Magnus stumbled up, and Sandro was waiting, twisting him into a spinning back suplex that folded Magnus like a lawn chair. He covered again.
One!
Two!
Thr—
No! Magnus barely got the shoulder up.
Sandro rose, signaling to the crowd. He ran up to the top turnbuckle signaling for his signature, the Top System Cutter, but Magnus who was down managed to get up at the last moment.
And moved out of the way as Sandro launched himself backward and his body hit into the referee. The official crumpled to the mat.
"Oh no!" Tenay shouted. "The referee's down!"
Magnus seized the moment, slipping out of the ring and grabbing one of the title belts, The TNA World Heavyweight title, from the ringside.
"Not like this!" West groaned.
Magnus slid back in with the belt in hand, but Sandro ducked the wild swing, kicked Magnus in the gut, and wrenched the belt away. The crowd exploded as Sandro hurled the belt aside. Magnus swung with his right hand, but Sandro caught him with a lightning fast snap German suplex, bridging up.
The referee crawled over.
One!
Two!
Thr—
Magnus kicked out!
Sandro sat back on his knees, blowing out a hard breath. The noise in the Impact Zone was deafening.
Both men staggered up, and Magnus caught Sandro with a sudden Michinoku Driver, planting him hard.
One!
Two!
Thr—
Sandro kicked out!
Magnus pounded the mat in fury, screaming at the referee. He dragged Sandro up, hooking for his finisher, the Tormentum, but Sandro elbowed free, shoving Magnus into the ropes and drilling him with a sudden superkick that snapped Magnus' head back.
The crowd roared as Magnus teetered and Sandro scooped him up, delivering a brutal gutbuster across his knee.
The crowd sensed the end.
Sandro pointed to the corner.
"Oh my God, Don, he's going up top!" Tenay yelled.
Sandro climbed the turnbuckle, steadying himself, the crowd on their feet, a sea of arms raised and voices screaming his name. He stood tall, both arms wide, looking down at the dazed Magnus below.
And then he flew.
Sandro launched himself into the air, catching Magnus' head mid falling, and drilled him into the canvas with the Downfall DDT from the top rope.
The ring shook on impact.
Sandro hooked the leg.
The referee dove in.
One!
Two!
THREE!!!
The bell rang and the roof nearly blew off the Impact Zone.
DING DING DING!
"Here is your winner… and still the FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion AND the TNA World Heavyweight Champion… SANDRO ZHANG!"
Mike Tenay was on his feet. "HE DID IT! HE DID IT! SANDRO RETAINS BOTH TITLES!"
Don West was practically shouting. "What a match! What a war! And Sandro Zhang proves once again why he's the double champion!"
Sandro rolled onto his back, arms spread wide, eyes closed, soaking in the thunderous cheers. The referee retrieved both belts, draping them over Sandro's chest as he slowly sat up, sweat drenched and grinning through exhaustion.
The crowd chanted wildly. "SAN-DRO! SAN-DRO! SAN-DRO!"
Sandro rose, leaning against the ropes for a moment, catching his breath, then hoisting both championships high once more. His music blared through the speakers, the familiar chords of Cult of Personality driving the crowd into an even greater frenzy.
Magnus, dazed, rolled to the outside, clutching his ribs, fury, and disbelief etched across his face as he stumbled up the ramp, yelling at the fans booing him mercilessly.
Inside the ring, Sandro climbed the turnbuckles, raising both belts to each section of the crowd, pointing to fans waving "2 BELTS" signs and nodding with a broad, satisfied smile.
Mike Tenay's voice softened slightly, a touch of reverence in his tone. "What we've witnessed tonight, Don, is the rise of a generational talent. Sandro Zhang came to TNA, and not only did he make a statement, he delivered on it."
Don West, breathless, added, "I don't know who's gonna take those belts off him, Mike, but whoever it is better to be ready for the fight of their life."
As the crowd continued to cheer, Sandro climbed down, walking slowly around the ring, slapping hands with fans over the barricade, pausing to pull a young fan wearing a "Sandro's Show" T shirt into a brief hug at ringside. He leaned into the camera, sweat dripping down his face, grinning wide as he lifted both belts once again.
"THIS is what it's all about!" Sandro shouted into the camera, voice raw but triumphant.
Back at the announce table, Tenay and West recapped the match, their voices still tinged with adrenaline.
"What a night, Don. We've seen Beer Money Inc. to open the show, Rebecca Knox defeating Velvet Sky on the middle match card of the show, and we've seen at the main event Sandro Zhang defend his two heavyweight championships in one of the most hard fought battles we've ever witnessed in this ring."
"And the night's finally over for today, Mike! If this is the level we're at now, I can't even imagine what's coming next week!"
As Sandro finally made his way up the ramp, both titles gleaming on his shoulders, he turned to the stage one last time. The crowd roared their approval, chanting his name as he raised his arms, a silhouette against the blinding stage lights.
With one final glance back, Sandro disappeared through the curtain leaving behind the roar of the Impact Zone and the unforgettable image of a champion who had just stamped his name into TNA history.
When Sandro passed through the curtain and entered into the Gorilla position, the backstage area erupted into applause. Crew members, agents, and wrestlers clapped him on the back as he walked through, some even letting out whistles and cheers.
Jeff Jarrett was waiting near the monitors with a wide grin, arms folded over his chest. Dixie Carter stood next to him, smiling warmly.
"Hell of a match out there, kid," Jeff said, giving Sandro an approving slap on the shoulder. Dixie stepped forward, giving him a quick thumbs up.
"Absolutely incredible, Sandro," she added. "You tore the house down tonight."
Sandro, still breathing heavily, his skin slick with sweat, offered a grateful smile. "Thank you. That crowd was electric. Magnus brought it, man, he really brought it."
Dixie exchanged a glance with Jeff, then looked back at Sandro, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "We were just talking… for your next title defense, we want to give you something special. We want you to choose who you'd like to face next from the TNA locker room."
For a moment, Sandro blinked, surprised. The rush of adrenaline was still coursing through him, but the weight of that offer settled onto his shoulders fast.
He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the floor thoughtfully as he mulled it over. There were so many names, AJ Styles, Rhino, Abyss, Bobby Lashley, and even someone like Mick Foley. But there was one name that rose above the rest, a name synonymous with a wrestling company that had gone under.
Sandro lifted his head, a spark in his eyes. "I want to face Sting," he said with quiet conviction.
Jeff let out a low whistle. "You sure about that?"
Sandro nodded firmly. "Yeah. I grew up watching him. If I'm gonna keep proving myself, I want to do it against the best. Sting."
Dixie beamed. "We'll talk to creative and see what we can work out. But you—" she placed a gentle hand on his arm, "you go get some rest. You earned it tonight."
Sandro gave them both a respectful nod, murmured his thanks, and headed down the hallway toward the locker room. His body was starting to feel exhausted after the adrenaline wore off, truly two wrestling matches in a row in the same week generated high exhaustion.
When he pushed into the locker room, a fresh wave of congratulations met him. James Storm was the first to greet him, clapping him hard on the back. "Brother, that was a hell of a show out there! You've got that place shaking!"
Bobby Roode chimed in from his seat, where he was unlacing his boots. "You killed it, man. That was championship material all the way."
Sandro laughed softly, dropping onto a bench with a grateful sigh. "Thanks, guys. That means a lot coming from you."
Bobby Lashley walked over, offering a firm handshake and a rare smile. "Respect, man. You're the real deal."
Rhino grinned, tossing Sandro a bottle of water. "Enjoy the moment, kid. These are the nights you'll remember when you're old and broken like the rest of us."
AJ Styles leaned against a locker, arms crossed, with the FCW North American title on his shoulder, and his usual playful smirk on his face. "Gotta say, you put up such a banger match out there. I hope we can get to work together soon."
Christopher Daniels gave an exaggerated bow, a dramatic hand to his chest. "From one performer to another, bravo."
Sandro smiled broadly, his chest warm from the praise. As the locker room gradually quieted, the adrenaline slowly ebbed away. He peeled off his gear, and pulled on his casual clothes: jeans, a black T shirt, and sneakers.
His duffel bag sat on the bench, the gleaming FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship and the TNA World Heavyweight Championship resting on top. He traced his fingers over the plates for a moment, soaking it all in.
Just as he zipped up his bag, the door swung open and James Storm peeked in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Hey, champ, some of the guys and gals are headin' out for a little celebration at the bar. You in?"
Sandro didn't hesitate. He knew the importance of these moments, the off camera camaraderie that built trust and respect. "Yeah, man, I'm in."
"Hell yeah!" James pumped a fist. "Let's go, brother!"
Sandro grabbed his duffel, carefully balancing the weight of both titles, and followed James out to the parking lot. There, Bobby Roode was already waiting near their rented black SUV, chatting with Rebecca Knox, who beamed when she saw Sandro approaching.
"Look at you, golden boy!" Rebecca teased, tapping the title belt poking from his bag. "Nice work tonight."
Sandro laughed, shaking his head. "You weren't too shabby yourself out there."
He tossed his bag into the trunk, slid into the backseat, and soon they were all packed in, James at the wheel, Bobby riding shotgun, Rebecca beside Sandro in the back.
The SUV rumbled to life, and they pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward one of the local bars near TNA headquarters. The bar was dimly lit, with neon signs casting splashes of color across the walls. It was already buzzing when they arrived, with a small crowd of fans hovering near the entrance. A few called out as they saw the group approaching, but Sandro and the others ducked inside quickly, slipping past the excited fans.
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 19 (2009)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA
Brand: FCW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style
Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion