Becoming A Wrestler

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Joe seized the moment, pulling Sandro into the ring and delivering a thunderous back suplex. Sandro arched his back in pain as Joe smirked, methodically stalking his opponent. The Florida Heavyweight Champion began to impose his will, driving his knee into Sandro's ribs repeatedly before locking in a tight abdominal stretch.

The referee checked on Sandro, who shook his head defiantly, refusing to give up. Sandro managed to break the hold with a series of sharp elbows to Joe's side, followed by a hip toss that sent Joe sprawling. Sandro tried to capitalize with a quick standing moonsault, but Joe got his knees up, driving them into Sandro's stomach.

Joe wasted no time, hoisting Sandro onto his shoulders for a Samoan drop. The impact shook the ring, and Joe immediately went for the cover.

"One! Two—", Sandro kicked out, and the crowd roared in support.

Frustrated but undeterred, Joe dragged Sandro to his feet and delivered a series of devastating chops that echoed throughout the arena. Sandro's chest turned bright red, but he responded with a flurry of punches and a spinning kick that caught Joe in the temple.

With Joe staggered, Sandro climbed to the top rope, the fans buzzing in anticipation. He leaped off with a diving clothesline, taking Joe down for a near fall.

As the match progressed, the intensity only increased. Joe regained control with a brutal combination of knee strikes and a snap powerslam. He targeted Sandro's head and neck, hitting him with a German suplex followed by a running senton. Sandro writhed in pain, but the crowd willed him on.

Joe attempted to finish things with a muscle buster, but Sandro wriggled free and countered with a DDT that spiked Joe's head into the mat. Both men were down, the referee beginning his ten-count as the audience rallied behind Sandro.

By the time the count reached seven, both men were back on their feet, trading blows in the center of the ring. The exchange escalated into a slugfest, with Sandro landing a spinning backfist that busted Joe's lip.

Enraged, Joe headbutted Sandro, splitting him open above the eyebrow. Blood trickled down Sandro's face, but he wiped it away and fired back with a Pele kick that sent Joe stumbling into the ropes.

The action spilled to the outside again, with Joe slamming Sandro into the barricade. He tried to follow up with a running lariat, but Sandro ducked, sending Joe crashing into the steel steps.

Sandro climbed onto the barricade and leaped off with a flying elbow, connecting with Joe's chest. The referee's count reached nine before Sandro managed to roll Joe back into the ring.

Sandro signaled for his finisher, the Dragon's Shot, but before he could execute it, Drew, Stu, and Creed stormed down the ramp. The crowd erupted in boos as the Empire and Creed tried to interfere. Drew climbed onto the apron, distracting the referee, while Stu and Creed shouted taunts at Sandro.

Sandro turned his attention to the intruders, yelling at them to stay out of the match. Kofi, Taylor, and Sheamus weren't far behind, sprinting down the ramp to even the odds. Chaos erupted at ringside as the two factions brawled, the referee struggling to regain control.

The distraction was enough for Joe to recover. As Sandro turned his focus back to the ring, Joe blindsided him with a vicious forearm to the back of the head. The impact sent Sandro crashing to the mat, and Joe wasted no time hoisting him up for the muscle buster. The devastating move left Sandro writhing in pain, but Joe wasn't finished.

He locked in his finisher the Coquina Clutch, wrapping his massive arms around Sandro's neck and squeezing with all his might. Sandro thrashed and clawed, desperately trying to break free. The referee knelt beside him, asking if he wanted to submit, but Sandro refused, his determination shining through the blood and sweat on his face.

The crowd chanted, "Let's go Sandro!" but the Coquina Clutch was locked in tight. Slowly, Sandro's movements began to weaken, his struggles growing fainter. The referee checked his arm, lifting it once. It fell limply to the mat.

He lifted it a second time. Again, it dropped.

On the third attempt, the arm stayed down, and the referee called for the bell.

The crowd erupted in boos as Joe released the hold, standing tall over Sandro's lifeless body. The Empire's music hit, and Drew, Stu, and Creed joined Joe in the ring, raising his hand in victory.

The four men taunted the crowd when they got out of the ring, basking in their stolen triumph as they had gained their advantage for the War Games. Sandro lay motionless in the ring as Kofi, Taylor, and Sheamus rushed in to check on him.

As Kofi, Taylor, and Sheamus knelt beside Sandro, wiping the blood from his face and trying to bring him back to consciousness, the Empire regrouped outside the ring. Drew, Stu, Creed, and Joe exchanged knowing smirks, their sinister intentions aligning without a word. The crowd's boos were deafening as the four men climbed back into the ring, their eyes locked on the unsuspecting trio tending to their fallen teammate.

The attack came swiftly and brutally, catching Kofi, Taylor, and Sheamus off guard. Drew blindsided Kofi with a vicious clothesline, sending him crashing to the mat. Stu and Creed double-teamed Taylor, one delivering a stiff forearm while the other swept his legs out from under him. Joe, still riding the high of his victory, targeted Sheamus, unloading a barrage of heavy punches that backed the Irishman into the corner.

The arena erupted in boos as the Empire unleashed their assault. Kofi tried to fight back, landing a few strikes on Drew, but the numbers game quickly overwhelmed him. Creed joined Drew, the two of them raining down stomps on Kofi as he writhed on the mat.

Taylor managed to get to his feet, swinging wildly at Stu, but Creed grabbed him from behind, executing a thunderous German suplex that left Taylor sprawled out, clutching his neck.

Sheamus, known for his toughness, absorbed Joe's strikes and retaliated with a brutal knee lift to Joe's midsection. The crowd roared, hoping for a comeback, but Drew quickly intervened, delivering a chop block to the back of Sheamus's knee. The Celtic Warrior crumpled to the mat, clutching his leg in pain.

The Empire's coordinated attack was merciless. Drew dragged Kofi to his feet and hurled him into the ropes, delivering a spine-shattering backbreaker on the rebound. Creed and Stu set their sights on Taylor again, hoisting him up for a double-team suplex that left him motionless. Meanwhile, Joe locked Sheamus in a standing guillotine choke, sapping what little fight he had left before tossing him to the mat like a rag doll.

The boos from the crowd grew louder with every passing second. Fans in the front row shouted angrily, waving their fists at the Empire, but the four men relished the hatred, feeding off the negative energy. Drew barked orders, directing his teammates to inflict even more damage.

Stu climbed to the top rope, delivering a flying elbow drop onto Taylor's chest. Creed pulled Kofi to his feet and executed a vicious Death Valley Driver, the impact echoing through the arena. Joe, ever the opportunist, picked up a steel chair from ringside and brought it into the ring, drawing gasps from the crowd.

With the chair in hand, Joe swung it with malicious intent, slamming it across Sheamus's back. The loud crack of steel meeting flesh made the audience wince, and Sheamus collapsed in agony. Joe didn't stop there, delivering another chair shot to Kofi, who was attempting to crawl toward Sandro.

Amid the chaos, Sandro began to stir, groggily pushing himself up on his elbows. Blood still trickled down his face, his vision blurred as he tried to make sense of the mayhem around him. He saw his teammates being decimated and mustered what little strength he had left to crawl toward the action.

Drew noticed Sandro moving and sneered, talking out loud so that the fans could hear, "Look at this guy," he said, mocking Sandro as he gestured to the rest of his team. "He still thinks he can fight." The group laughed as Drew walked over and grabbed Sandro by the hair, yanking him to his knees.

"You should've stayed down," Drew growled before delivering a sickening headbutt that reopened Sandro's wound. Blood poured freely now, staining the mat as Sandro slumped forward, barely conscious.

The Empire stood tall in the ring, surveying the destruction they had caused. Drew, Stu, Creed, and Joe raised their arms triumphantly, soaking in the crowd's hatred like it was a badge of honor.

The referee and other officials rushed down to the ring, shouting at the Empire to leave, but the four men were slow to comply, taunting the fallen Dragon Boom members one last time before finally retreating.

As the Empire team backed up the ramp, Stu grabbed a microphone from the announcer's table. His voice dripped with arrogance as he addressed the crowd. "This is what happens when you step into the Empire. At War Games, this is just the beginning. Tonight, we showed the world why we are untouchable, and next Saturday, we'll seal Dragon Boom and their friend's fate for good!"

The crowd erupted in deafening boos, but Stu and his cohorts only laughed, reveling in their dominance. As they disappeared behind the curtain, the camera focused on the carnage in the ring.

Kofi, Taylor, and Sheamus lay motionless, the toll of the attack evident on their battered bodies. Sandro, bleeding and barely able to move, looked around at his fallen teammates, his expression a mix of pain and determination.

Medical personnel and officials helped the injured wrestlers to the back, the crowd chanting "Dragon Boom!", "Sheamus!", and "Taylor", in an attempt to rally their heroes. Despite the pain and the loss, Sandro managed to raise a hand, acknowledging the fans' support as he was helped up the ramp with the rest of his friends being helped as well..

The night ended on a somber note, but the seeds for War Games had been firmly planted. Dragon Boom's team had been battered and bloodied, but the fire in their eyes made it clear: they weren't finished yet. The Empire's team may have won the battle, but the war was far from over.

When Sandro, Kofi, Taylor, and Sheamus entered the backstage area, the roars of the crowd still echoed faintly in their ears. Medical personnel hovered around them, but as soon as they were out of sight of the fans, the four men gently pushed away the helping hands. Despite the bruises and cuts, they assured everyone they could manage without immediate attention.

Sandro, however, stood out. His face was smeared with blood from the reopened wound above his eyebrow, but his expression was composed. The pain, though undeniably present, seemed to fade into the background for him. It was part of the divine gift he'd received, one that dulled the sensation of pain but didn't make him invincible.

A small voice in his mind reminded him that this didn't mean he could be careless with his body. Recklessness wasn't an option, not when so much was at stake.

The hallway buzzed with activity. Drew, Stu, Creed, and Joe were already waiting for them, their earlier sinister expressions replaced with ones of genuine concern. As the four villains approached, Drew spoke first, his voice steady but apologetic. "Mate, we didn't go too hard out there, did we? You know how it is… had to sell the story."

Sandro gave a tired but understanding smile. "It's all good, Drew. That's the job. Out there, we do what we need to make it real. Back here, it's back to being friends."

Kofi nodded, clapping Drew on the shoulder. "Exactly. You guys were on fire tonight. The crowd ate it up."

Joe looked sheepish despite his intimidating frame. "I hope those chair shots weren't too much, Sheamus. You good?"

Sheamus let out a hearty laugh despite wincing as he stretched. "Tough as old boots, fella. If I can't take a few chair shots, what am I even doing here?"

The camaraderie among them was clear. They shook hands, shared laughs, and even teased one another about the stiff shots they had exchanged during the match. It was a reminder of the trust that underpinned their performances, a trust that allowed them to push boundaries and tell compelling stories.

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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