Inside the gym, it was noisy, with people breathing hard and gloves hitting pads with a sharp sound.
As fighters moved across the mats, they locked up in pairs to practice.
They were all wearing their training gear, with mouthguards on, gloves on, and shin guards tight on each leg.
In the middle of it all, the guy from Philadelphia and the guy from Brazil circled each other. They were already in the middle of a spar.
Both of them were focused, and as they moved, drops of sweat ran down their faces.
As he looked for a way in, the Philly fighter kept his hands up and his feet moving quickly.
Across from him, the Brazilian maintained a wide stance, his dark eyes sharp and focused.
They were wearing standard protective gear, but that didn't stop the intensity.
Philly threw a quick jab, testing the distance, but the Brazilian slipped it with ease and fired back with a hard kick to the body.
The shin guard didn't fully dull the thud of impact as it landed, and Philly grunted, stepping back to reset.
Coach Whittier kept a close eye on them both as he walked around the mats with his hands on his hips.
As he walked by, his sharp eyes caught every mistake and every improvement.
"Miles, keep your hands up," Whittier called out. His speech was calm but firm, and it could be heard over the gym's noise. "You're dropping them when you jab. Keep your elbows tucked in."
Philly guy, whose name was Miles, nodded, adjusting his guard and tightening his stance.
He threw a few more jabs, this time keeping his elbows in tighter, but the Brazilian, whose name was Felipe, was quick.
He feinted a jab, then came in with a brutal low kick, his shin cracking against Miles' leg.
Whittier was now moving behind Felipe and watching how he moved. "Felipe, good movement," Whittier said with a nod. "But commit to your strikes. When you feint, make him believe it. Step in hard."
Felipe immediately did what he was told and hit Miles in the jaw with a right cross, which snapped his head back.
Even though Miles staggered a little, he quickly recovered up and hit Felipe on the chin with a left hook.
"Nice recovery, Miles!" Whittier stepped in closer and called. "But don't smother your punches. You're getting too close. Keep your distance and let your shots breathe."
This wasn't just about getting through the day's training, it was about understanding their fighting styles and figuring out where he could help each one improve.
Whittier stopped by another pair sparring near the far side of the gym.
One fighter was throwing wild punches, his footwork sloppy, while his partner struggled to avoid them.
Whittier stepped in, gently tapping the fighter's gloves down. "Slow down. Focus. You're too wild. Keep it tight and controlled," he said, showing him how to keep his stance solid.
Across the room, another fighter was working on his kicks, but his form was off.
Whittier walked over and placed a hand on the fighter's shoulder, adjusting his posture. "Your hips, they're too stiff. Loosen them up. The power comes from there, not just your leg."
At most, this wasn't the full-on training Whittier would later implement.
This was him getting to know his team's strengths and weaknesses, observing how they moved, fought, and reacted under pressure.
Whittier was patient but methodical, carefully picking apart each fighter's technique to see where they could improve.
Meanwhile, in the other training room, Team Chemasov was experiencing a very different atmosphere.
Balim Chemasov, known for his relentless intensity and aggressive style, was pushing his team to their limits.
Fighters in Team Chemasov were sweating profusely, gritting their teeth as they went through rigorous drills and sparring rounds that seemed to have no end in sight.
Balim shouted commands, his voice carrying a heavy accent, urging his fighters to move faster, hit harder, and never back down.
"Come on, push! You think this is hard? In the cage, no one give you time to breathe!" he barked, his eyes sharp as he watched every movement.
Team Whittier, though intense in its own right, was more controlled and technical.
Whittier was less about brute force and more about refining their technique, making sure every strike, kick, and movement was precise.
But in Team Chemasov's room, it was all about sheer aggression and endurance.
While Whittier quietly observed his fighters to study their potential, Chemasov was throwing his team directly into the fire, testing their willpower, toughness, and how far they could push themselves.
The contrast between the two teams' training was stark, and it was only the beginning.
The fighters on both sides had no idea how much they would be molded, both physically and mentally, under the guidance of these two very different coaches.