In the electric hum of Indianapolis’ Gainbridge Fieldhouse, where the air crackled with anticipation under the glare of ESPN’s spotlight, wrestling’s past collided with its present in a spectacle that left jaws on the floor and hearts pounding. WWE Wrestlepalooza, the inaugural premium live event under the WWE-ESPN partnership, delivered on its promise of chaos and grandeur. But it was the main event—a brutal, no-holds-barred clash between two titans, Brock Lesnar and John Cena—that etched itself into the annals of sports entertainment history. On September 20, 2025, The Beast returned from a two-year exile to unleash hell, dismantling the retiring GOAT with a barrage of six thunderous F5s, then turning his rage on the referee and Cena himself in a post-match rampage that screamed unfinished business.

The buildup had been simmering like a pot about to boil over since SummerSlam, when Lesnar’s surprise reemergence capped the weekend with a vicious ambush. Whispers of his return were drowned out by the shadow of Vince McMahon’s lingering lawsuit, but WWE bet big on redemption through destruction. Fast-forward to September 5’s SmackDown, and the fuse ignited. As Cena defended his United States Championship against Sami Zayn in a hard-fought bout, Lesnar stormed the ring like a freight train derailed. He laid out Zayn with one F5, then turned on Cena, planting him with two more in rapid succession. The crowd erupted in a mix of shock and savage delight as Paul Heyman, ever the maestro of mayhem, slithered to the announce desk to declare, “The Beast is back, and he’s hungry.” By night’s end, the match was official: Cena versus Lesnar at Wrestlepalooza, a seventh singles showdown in their storied rivalry, where Lesnar entered with a commanding 4-2 edge.

Walking into Gainbridge, the stakes felt mythic. For Cena, this was another stop on his farewell tour—a poignant chapter before Hollywood swallows him whole. At 48, the 16-time world champion carried the weight of a generation, his jorts a symbol of unyielding hustle. Lesnar, 48 as well but built like a siege engine, hadn’t laced up his boots in WWE since 2023. Rumors swirled of contract disputes and legal clouds, but there he was, stoic and snarling, Paul Heyman’s gravelly intro painting him as an unstoppable force of nature. The bell rang at around 9:45 p.m. ET, and 18,000 fans held their breath. What unfolded wasn’t a wrestling clinic; it was a demolition derby.

From the jump, Lesnar asserted dominance with a clinic in calculated brutality. He shrugged off Cena’s early shoulder blocks like they were love taps, countering with German suplexes that echoed like thunderclaps. Cena, ever the resilient underdog, fired back with fire in his eyes—landing a spinebuster that popped the crowd and a Five Knuckle Shuffle that had “You Can’t See Me” chants raining down. But Lesnar absorbed it all, his eyes gleaming with that feral intensity. Then came the shift: Cena hoisted The Beast for three consecutive Attitude Adjustments, each one a seismic AA that shook the ring. The pin attempts? Futile. Lesnar kicked out at two-and-a-half each time, his chest heaving but unbroken. It was a momentary mirage of hope, a nod to Cena’s never-say-die spirit that has defined eras.

But hope is a fragile thing in Suplex City. Lesnar rose like a phoenix from the canvas, catching Cena mid-stride and unleashing the first F5—a spinning whirlwind of power that flattened the Cenation leader. One. The crowd’s roar turned to gasps. Two more followed in quick succession, each lift and slam more vicious than the last, welts blooming across Cena’s back like war paint. By the fourth, Cena was a shadow of his hustle, loyalty, respect mantra, staggering to his feet on sheer willpower. The fifth F5 was poetry in pain, a slow-motion spiral that left the referee frozen in awe. And then, the sixth: Lesnar scooped Cena up one final time, twisted through the air, and drove him into the mat with the force of a meteor. The pin was academic—1-2-3—and the bell clanged like a death knell. Seven minutes of carnage, and Lesnar’s record swells to 5-2.

The story could’ve ended there, a clean(ish) send-off for two legends. But Lesnar doesn’t do clean. As the ref raised his arm in victory, The Beast swatted it away, turning on the official with a casual F5 that sent the striped-shirt flying into the barricade. The arena exploded—part horror, part hilarity—as officials scrambled. Undeterred, Lesnar dragged Cena’s limp form to center ring and hoisted him for yet another F5, number seven in the night, planting him amid a sea of debris. Cena lay motionless, the GOAT humbled, as Lesnar stood tall, veins bulging, a predator sated but not slaked. Heyman, mic in hand, bellowed, “This ain’t over!” before Lesnar vanished into the shadows, leaving medics and fans in stunned silence.

Social media ignited faster than a Roman Reigns spear. X (formerly Twitter) buzzed with reactions: “Brock just murdered Cena—kids were crying, arena SHOOK,” one fan posted alongside a clip of the final F5. Critics decried the one-sidedness—”Worst feud ever, no promos, just 6 F5s and boredom,” griped another. Yet defenders hailed it as brutal poetry: “Two legends wrote the final chapter—Heyman added the spice.” Clips of the referee’s knockout went viral, racking up millions of views, while memes of Cena’s jorts ripping mid-F5 flooded timelines.

In the broader WWE tapestry, Wrestlepalooza shone beyond the main. Cody Rhodes retained the Undisputed WWE Championship against Gunther in a 25-minute epic, while Stephanie Vaquer claimed her first gold in a multi-woman showcase. AJ Lee’s in-ring return alongside CM Punk against Seth Rollins and Becky Lynch added nostalgic fire. But Lesnar’s onslaught overshadowed it all, a reminder that in wrestling, beasts don’t retire—they hibernate.

As Cena gingerly exits the ring, icing his ribs and waving weakly to fans, questions linger. Is this truly farewell for the rivalry? With Cena’s schedule open until Crown Jewel, and Lesnar’s post-match fury unquenched, whispers of a rematch swirl. WWE creative, under Triple H’s steady hand, thrives on these feuds that transcend the squared circle. Lesnar’s return, controversial as it is amid real-world baggage, reaffirms his status as the ultimate destroyer. Cena, battered but unbroken, embodies the heart that keeps us coming back.

In a night of highs and holy hell, Brock Lesnar didn’t just win—he conquered. The F5 count: seven. The message: clear. The wrestling world? Forever altered. As the lights dimmed on Gainbridge, one truth rang out: in the ring, beasts always roar last.