I stood in the ring, adrenaline surging through me as the crowd roared, the tension thick in the air. It was time—time to prove myself, time to show that Cody and I weren’t just two broken toys, but a force to be reckoned with. The ring was a warzone, and we were about to dive right in. Before the bell could ring, I turned to Cody, a quick flash of strategy crossing my mind. “I’ll take The Rock, you take Cena,” I suggested, my voice low enough that only he could hear. I figured it made sense—after all, it was Cena who stole Cody’s title.
Cody, however, surprised me. He put a gentle hand on my shoulder, shaking his head with a calm smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, Angel,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’ll take The Rock. You fight Cena.”
I blinked, confused for a moment. Why would he want to face The Rock? My instinct was to argue, to fight for my right to take on the bigger threat, but then he spoke again, his words sinking in slowly. “Cena seems the easiest,” Cody continued, his voice steady and reassuring. “Besides, I’m not gonna let The Rock hurt you again. Not on my watch.”
My heart softened at his words, understanding instantly that this was his way of looking out for me, of making sure I wasn’t left vulnerable. It wasn’t about who was stronger or more skilled; it was about keeping me safe. And that, more than anything, was why I trusted him. I smiled a little, feeling the bond between us settle in, even more profound than before. Without a word, I pulled him into a quick, tight hug. I felt him freeze for half a second, then chuckle softly and wrap his arms around me in return.
“Alright, just be careful, Code,” I said as I pulled back, looking him in the eye with all the seriousness I could muster. “We’ve got this. Together.”
He nodded firmly, his usual cocky grin appearing, but there was something more in his eyes—something that made me feel even more determined. “Together,” he repeated. “Let’s show them what broken toys can do.”
The bell rang, and the chaos began. We both moved in sync, almost as if we had done this a thousand times. I darted towards Cena, launching myself at him with a flurry of punches that caught him off-guard. He tried to block, but I was faster, spinning around him, flipping over his back with a neat somersault before landing back on my feet.
At the same time, Cody was already on The Rock, catching him off guard with a swift superkick to the jaw. The Rock staggered, clearly thrown by the speed and precision of our attacks. He tried to shake it off with a cocky smirk, but that didn’t last long. The frustration was starting to show on his face. “Not so fast, Rock,” I muttered under my breath, my feet already moving to circle Cena. The crowd’s energy was electric, and I could hear the chant rising: “Let’s go Angel! Let’s go Cody!” It was overwhelming, the sound of the crowd feeding my every movement.
But then, Cena—just as fast as he looked vulnerable—struck. He planted his feet and delivered a shoulder block that sent me crashing to the mat with a painful thud. My breath left me for a moment, but I quickly rolled to my side, trying to regain control. I wasn’t going to let him win that easily. Cena wasn’t done, though. He moved with surprising speed, pulling me up by the hair and throwing me into the ropes. As I rebounded, I saw him set up for the dreaded Five-Knuckle Shuffle. The crowd’s boos echoed through the arena, and I braced myself, knowing what was coming. He connected with that infamous fist drop, taunting me as he did so.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Cena yelled, his face twisted into that smug grin. “Come on, Angel! Show me something!”
The taunts hit me, sure, but it wasn’t enough to break me. I gathered what little strength I had left, pushing through the pain in my chest. I rolled out of the way just as Cena tried for a second one, and suddenly, it was my turn to strike.
Meanwhile, Cody and The Rock were still in the midst of a war of their own. The Rock had taken a more cerebral approach—mocking, taunting, trying to break Cody’s spirit with every move. He tossed Cody across the ring with a Samoan Drop that shook the canvas. The Rock hovered over him, taunting with exaggerated movements, clearly trying to get under Cody’s skin. “Come on, Rhodes! I thought you were tougher than this!” The Rock sneered.
But Cody wasn’t done. He fought back, keeping his eyes locked on The Rock. I could see the moment it clicked for him—he wasn’t going to let The Rock’s mind games get the best of him. The Rock went for a Rock Bottom, but Cody fought out of it, pushing himself up with sheer will. The Rock’s cocky grin faltered, and that gave Cody enough space to climb to the top rope.
I was still battling Cena, but I caught a glimpse of Cody soaring through the air. It was a moonsault, perfectly executed, and he landed with a loud thud onto The Rock. The crowd’s roar was deafening—huge pops as they went wild for the move. Cody’s ability to pull that off after everything he’d been through was nothing short of miraculous. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the rush of excitement and pride surge in my chest. Cody was proving exactly what I already knew: he was a force to be reckoned with.
“Let’s do this, Cody!” I yelled as I took advantage of Cena’s disorientation, throwing him into the corner and getting ready to finish this. The match was far from over, but I could feel victory on the horizon.
I felt my heart racing as I watched Cody, my partner, charge in with everything he had. And just when I thought we might finally get the upper hand, Cody hit that Disaster Kick on The Rock, his boot crashing hard into his face. The Rock staggered back, dazed. The roar of the crowd hit a fever pitch as Cody followed up with a perfect Cody Cutter, nearly sealing the victory.
I held my breath, my eyes locked on the referee, praying he'd slap the mat for the three-count. But just as the ref’s hand came down for the final strike, Cena was there—flying across the ring like a freight train—breaking up the pin at the last second. I let out a frustrated groan as Cena shoved Cody off, the chance slipping through our fingers. But I wasn’t giving up yet. I spun on my heels, locking eyes with Cena, determination burning inside me. He was taunting me, his cocky grin always in place, but I wouldn’t let him get to me. I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. I dashed across the ring and launched myself at him, aiming for a Phoenix Splash. But Cena, that damn man, managed to roll out of the way just in time. My body crashed hard into the mat, the impact sending a shockwave of pain through me.
I grimaced, feeling the air leave my lungs, but before I could recover, Cena was on me again. He locked in the STF, pulling my body back in a painful submission. My neck and back screamed, and I could feel the pressure building. I could see the ref watching closely, waiting to see if I’d tap out. I gritted my teeth, fighting to stay conscious as I struggled against the hold. I wasn’t about to let Cena make me give up.
Just as I thought I might fade, I heard it—Cody’s voice, cutting through the noise. Then, out of nowhere, I saw him flying across the ring in a Springboard Crossbody, his body colliding with Cena, breaking up the STF just before I passed out. My heart skipped a beat, a rush of gratitude filling me as I caught my breath.
“Thanks, Cody,” I muttered, pushing myself up. I was still a little dizzy from the pain, but I wasn’t going to let that slow me down. The crowd was wild, the noise deafening. It was like the arena itself was shaking with the energy, the tension building by the second. Cena stumbled back, his anger now directed at Cody. I saw my chance and took it. I ducked under a massive clothesline from Cena, the arm just missing my head. Without missing a beat, I spun around and nailed him with a spinning backfist, sending him stumbling backward into the ropes.
The crowd popped as I charged forward, delivering a Superkick straight to Cena’s jaw. The connection was solid, and I watched as his eyes glazed over for just a second. He staggered back, stunned. I went for the quick pin, the desperation to end this match in our favor overwhelming me.
But just as the referee dropped for the three-count, I felt a sharp pain in my head. A hard right hand from The Rock slammed into the back of my skull, knocking me out of the pin. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I felt like I might go down for good. But I wasn’t going to let it happen—not now.
I quickly rolled to my feet, my instincts kicking in. The Rock was already charging me, and I didn’t hesitate. I swung an elbow at him as he came in, the impact sending him stumbling back into the ropes. The crowd roared with approval, but there wasn’t much time to savor it. The action was moving fast.
Cody went straight for The Rock again, exchanging brutal blows in the middle of the ring. Each shot Cody landed seemed to knock The Rock off balance, but The Rock wasn’t going down that easily. He caught Cody with a nasty Samoan Drop, and the force of it left Cody gasping for air. My heart sank for a moment, but I quickly reminded myself that we couldn’t let up. Cody was tough—he would fight through this.
The Rock, still taunting Cody, went for the Rock Bottom, but Cody powered out, using everything he had left to escape. And then it happened—just when The Rock thought he had the upper hand, Cody sprang back into action with a flying Dropkick to The Rock’s knees, taking him down to the canvas.
I couldn’t help but grin as Cody got back to his feet, clearly pumped up, but the war was far from over. Cena was back on the attack, his momentum now fully regained. Before I could make a move, he caught me with a huge spinebuster, my back crashing hard against the mat. The pain radiated through me, but Cena wasn’t done. He followed up with his trademark Five Knuckle Shuffle, taunting me with every step. The crowd’s boos were deafening, and I could feel my blood boil.
I knew I couldn’t let him keep up this momentum, not if we were going to win this. I pushed through the pain, forcing myself to stand up just as Cena got cocky, grinning at the crowd. I charged him, my elbow shooting out, connecting with his face and knocking him back. The fight was far from over, but I wasn’t giving up. Not now.
Cody was still battling The Rock, throwing everything he had into the fight. They were a blur of fists and fury, each of them trying to knock the other out. After landing a few more devastating shots, Cody hit Russian Leg Sweep on The Rock, but the big man wasn’t staying down that easily. The Rock powered out, throwing Cody across the ring into the turnbuckle.
But Cody wasn’t done yet. He was a force of nature, and I knew he wasn’t going to stop fighting. The action continued to spill all over the ring, with Cena and The Rock trying to mount offense, and Cody and I doing everything we could to stay on top. The crowd was beyond invested in the chaos, the roar of their voices deafening, as the battle raged on. We couldn’t give up, not now.
The match had descended into chaos. I watched from my knees as Cody nailed The Rock with a perfect Disaster Kick, sending him sprawling. Without a second thought, Cody sprinted up the ropes and launched into a gorgeous moonsault. The crowd roared—but The Rock, stubborn as ever, rolled out of the way at the last second. Cody crashed hard onto the canvas with a loud thud, both men lying motionless in the center of the ring.
I gritted my teeth, shaking the fog out of my head. No time to waste. Climbing to the top rope, I locked my eyes onto Cena, who was getting back to his feet. "Hey, Johnny!" I yelled to grab his attention. He looked up—just in time to catch my Flying Crossbody full force. We crashed to the mat with a brutal impact. I hooked his leg immediately, trying to steal the win.
"One! Two—!"
Cena kicked out at the last second, shoving me off with a grunt. I rolled onto my side, panting, hearing the crowd start to chant, "THIS IS AWESOME!"
"You hit like a featherweight," Cena growled as he pushed himself up.
"Funny," I shot back, smirking despite the pain. "You wrestle like one."
Before I could say another word, I caught sight of The Rock charging at me like a freight train. My instincts kicked in, and I dove to the side at the last moment. The Rock couldn't stop his momentum and slammed shoulder-first into the turnbuckle with a sickening crash. "That looked like it hurt," I muttered under my breath.
Seizing the moment, I sprinted forward and delivered a sharp running dropkick right to his spine, sending him tumbling through the ropes and onto the floor outside. The crowd exploded again, feeding me energy. I turned and found Cody, who had somehow dragged himself back to his feet, giving me a small nod across the ring. His expression was pure grit—bruised, battered, but not broken. We weren't going down without a fight.
The minutes blurred together in a frenzy. Cody caught The Rock with another brutal Disaster Kick, rocking him back into the ropes. Meanwhile, I pummeled Cena with everything I had—elbows, knees, anything to keep him cornered and gasping for air. "You're tougher than you look," Cena grunted, wiping blood from his lip.
"You're older than you act," I shot back with a wink, before cracking him with a spinning heel kick. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cody setting up for Cross Rhodes on The Rock. He hooked The Rock’s arms, twisting for the finish—but The Rock fought dirty, shoving Cody off into the ropes. My gut twisted when I saw The Rock’s face contort into a sick grin. He slid out of the ring, yanked a steel chair from under the apron, and rolled back in. The referee, meanwhile, was distracted checking on Cena, who was wheezing in the corner.
"Hey!" I shouted, trying to warn Cody as The Rock raised the chair high overhead. The Rock swung it with brutal force—but Cody ducked just in time. The chair smashed into the turnbuckle with a deafening clang. The Rock snarled and spun around, swinging the chair again—this time straight at me.
I barely had a second to react. The chair cracked across my back with a sickening thud that echoed through the entire arena. My legs buckled. I collapsed face-first onto the mat, the searing pain blinding everything else around me. The crowd gasped, a collective sound of horror that rattled the building. "Angel!" I heard Cody shout somewhere through the haze.
I could barely lift my head, the burn in my spine making every breath sharp and shallow. I felt Cody’s hands on my arm, trying to pull me to safety, but it was too late—the damage was done. Above me, The Rock raised the chair again, but the referee had finally seen enough. He stormed over, pointing directly at The Rock and yelling, "That's it! Ring the bell!"
The bell rang loudly, signaling the end of the match. The boos from the crowd were deafening. The Rock turned on the ref immediately, shouting, "What are you doing?! That was nothing!"
"You're disqualified!" the ref barked, standing his ground.
Cena, still struggling to stand, looked around in confusion. "What the hell just happened?"
"You just got yourselves DQ’d, genius," I muttered under my breath as Cody helped me to my feet. Our theme song—“Awake and Alive” by Skillet—blasted through the arena speakers. I winced as every movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my back, but I forced a grin.
"You okay?" Cody asked, slipping an arm around me for support.
I let out a pained laugh. "Yeah... been through worse." I tried to stand on my own and immediately regretted it, grabbing Cody’s arm again. "Might need a gallon of ice later though."
"You scared me for a second," he said quietly, his eyes searching mine.
"Please," I smirked up at him. "It'll take more than that and a steel chair to put me down for good."
He laughed, shaking his head, before raising our hands in victory. Around us, the crowd roared, some even starting a chant of "ANGEL! ANGEL!"
Despite the pain, despite everything we had just gone through, I felt something fierce spark inside me—pride. We had fought like hell, and we had survived. And we had won.
ns216.73.216.122da2
and then Add to home screen.