I stood next to my best friend and Randy, arms crossed, the backstage monitor glowing in front of us. The crowd’s roar pulsed through the walls like a living heartbeat. Cody cracked his knuckles while Randy looked like he was ready to drop someone on their head just for breathing too loud.
Me? I was watching. Studying. I knew The Rock wasn’t done stacking the deck. He never played fair, and tonight wouldn’t be the exception. And sure enough—his music hit.
“If ya smell…”
I rolled my eyes as the crowd erupted. There he was, strutting out in that designer leather jacket and thousand-dollar sunglasses, acting like this was still 2001 and we hadn’t caught up.
“Watch,” I muttered. “He’s gonna bring backup.”
Randy didn’t flinch. “Let him.”
Cody smirked, calm as ever. “That’s what we want.”
Rock got to the ring, mic already in hand. “FINALLY…” he began, drawing the crowd into the palm of his hand like a sermon. “The Rock has come back… to put an end to this little rebellion once and for all.”
Oh good. Another messiah speech.
He continued, smug as ever. “The Rock brought back the Champ—John Cena. And the irresistible force herself, Nia Jax.” He paused, waiting for the boos. He loved the boos.
“But that wasn’t enough. No, no. The Rock doesn’t do ‘enough.’ The Rock does excellence. So allow The People’s Champ to introduce the next face of destruction on this roster…”
That’s when Jacob Fatu’s music hit. The crowd roared again—different energy this time. Violent. Dangerous. Jacob stormed out like a predator set loose, and I felt my fingers twitch near the hem of my gloves. This just got more real.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Rock boomed, “Jacob Fatu is the future. The ANIMAL of The Bloodline. Unleashed. Unshackled. Unstoppable.”
Fatu stepped into the ring with a snarl, cracking his neck, not even bothering to take the mic. His presence alone screamed threat. “And we’re not done,” Rock smirked. “The final addition to our team… someone who actually wins championships instead of crying about opportunities. The Man. Becky Lynch.”
The crowd exploded. Red smoke and “Celtic Invasion” lit up the arena as Becky marched down, cool and confident. She stepped into the ring and bumped fists with Nia, giving Cody’s name a little spit as she grabbed the mic.
“Y’all been barkin’ a lot these last few weeks. But this isn’t some underdog movie, love. This is the real world—and in the real world? The Man takes the W.”
Rock looked out at the crowd, soaking it in. “So now we have FIVE. The Rock. John Cena. Nia Jax. Jacob Fatu. Becky Lynch. And all of you?” He turned toward the camera. “You wannabe Avengers? You’re just in the wrong movie.”
I clenched my jaw. Cody looked at me and gave a small nod. “Let ‘em think they’re winning,” he whispered. Then he raised his hand, signaling the crew.
“♫ I’m awake, I’m alive… Now I know what I believe inside… ♫”
Skillet’s “Awake and Alive” blasted through the arena and the crowd lost it. We walked out slowly—Cody in the middle, Randy to his left, me to his right. The lights flashed red and white around us like lightning, and I swear you could feel the shift. We didn’t speak yet. We just stood there on the stage and looked at them. Five titans in the ring—and we were completely unshaken. Then Cody stepped forward and lifted the mic.
“You’re right, Rock. You’ve got five. And it looks impressive. But the thing about smoke and mirrors?” He leaned forward. “Eventually… it fades.”
Randy stepped up next, arms crossed. “And all that’s left… is what you really are. A bunch of insecure egos clinging to their prime.”
I smirked. “See, while you were busy building your kingdom, we were building a rebellion.”
Cody grinned. “Let’s introduce you to our fourth ally.”
LA Knight’s theme hit and the place came unglued. The pop was deafening. He walked out, dripping in confidence, chewing gum like it was personal. He strolled right up beside us and took the mic from Cody. “Well, well, well,” he said, squinting down at the ring. “The Rock. The John Cena. And what’s this? You brought the rest of Hollywood with ya?” He tilted his head. “That’s cute.”
Becky rolled her eyes. “This guy again?”
Knight pointed at her. “You hush, Becky. Nobody asked for the director’s cut of The Man Returns Again and Still Ain’t Interesting.”
The crowd screamed. Jacob stepped forward, growling something under his breath. Knight cracked his neck. “You wanna go, Big Dog 2.0? Say the word.”
Rock stepped back in, smug again. “That all you got? One extra leather-jacket-wearing, discount-Stone-Cold impersonator?”
I stepped forward and slowly raised the mic. “Not quite,” I said. “We’ve got one more.”
“♫ I’m on my own up against the world… ♫”
Bianca Belair’s theme hit and the building exploded. People were on their feet, and I swear I saw a kid in the front row just scream into his dad’s shoulder. Bianca bounced out onto the stage, braid swinging behind her like a whip, face full of fire. She strutted right up next to me, nodded once, and said loud into the mic, “Oh, y’all are dead.”
Becky’s face twisted. “You serious? You joinin’ this circus, B?”
Bianca cocked her head. “Damn right. Because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s fake legends who don’t know when to sit down.”
That’s when the yelling started.
“Cena, you still got my boot print from last week on your face or what?” Randy taunted.
“Still talking, huh, Randy? I thought you’d slithered off already,” Cena shot back.
Knight joined in, focused on Jacob. “Jacob, you got two moves and one eyebrow—oh wait, that’s your cousin.”
“Bianca, you still talkin’? You ain’t touched gold in months,” Becky smirked.
“You’re real bold for someone who just joined Team Sellout,” Bianca responded.
I focused on Nia. “Nia, you still breathing heavy from that five-minute match or is that just the sound of your ego?”
Nia shot me a glare. “You wanna say that in the ring, wing girl?”
“Rock. One word: overexposed,” I heard Cody say, making me smile to myself. But The Rock was ready with a comeback.
“And you, Cody? One word: irrelevant.”
And that was it. Chaos erupted. Bianca tackled Becky like a freight train, fists flying, braid snapping.
Randy lunged straight for Cena, slamming into him and sending them tumbling into the ropes.
Knight and Fatu were throwing shots like it was a street brawl, two bulls in a cage.
And me? I went right for Nia—and then The Rock stepped in.
I don’t even remember what I shouted. I just remember moving. Kicks, blocks, strikes—Nia tried to crush me against the barricade, but Cody was there in an instant, launching himself into The Rock’s ribs to even it up.
Security stormed the ring. Adam Pearce was shouting something I couldn’t hear over the roar of the crowd and the bodies colliding. Finally, Pearce got into the ring, grabbing a mic as refs separated bodies.
“ENOUGH!”
Everyone froze—or tried to. Pearce’s voice boomed through the arena. “You all wanna fight? Fine. I’ll give you a fight.”
He looked from Rock’s team to ours, fury blazing behind his glasses.
“Next Monday night, on RAW—WarGames. All ten of you. Two rings. One cage. Settle this once and for all!”
The crowd exploded again. I looked at Cody. He looked at me. We nodded.
ns216.73.216.54da2
and then Add to home screen.