The venue was filled with excitement as the last fight ended in a spectacular way.
Even though the fighters weren't big stars, they put on a show that should have been on the main stage.
One of the commentators at the commentary table, John leaned forward and rested his forearm on the desk while he spoke with great excitement. "Damn, that was a fantastic match! Definitely one for the books. That knockout was insane!"
Another commentator, Mike, seated beside him, nodded in agreement. "Absolutely, John. Those punches? Heavy as hell. I have to say, that was an incredible fight."
John grinned as he gestured to the replay on the screen. "Speaking of heavy, let's talk about what's coming up next. We're reacting to the replay here, but the next match, Damon Cross versus Cellan Gustalam, is a light heavyweight bout. Mike, who are you siding with in this one?"
Mike tilted his head, considering the question carefully before responding. "Look, we can't ignore the advantages Cellan has over Damon in this fight. The circumstances favor him, he's got more weight, more experience, and he's already a proven contender. I hate to say it, but I think we might see Cellan Gustalam come out on top in this one."
John raised an eyebrow, sensing a shift in Mike's tone. "Might? Sounds like you're hedging your bets there, Mike."
Mike chuckled. "Well, I'm ready to be proven wrong. Damon Cross is a wild card. He's fresh off winning The Supreme Fighter, and he's stepping in on short notice. The kid's got something to prove, and sometimes, that's all it takes."
The screen changed to a live feed of Damon getting ready backstage. He was shadowboxing carefully and intently while Victor Steele gave him last-minute directions.
The crowd's murmurs grew louder as they caught sight of the fighter many were rooting for.
J leaned back, his excitement evident. "Well, I don't know about you, Mike, but I've got a feeling we're about to witness something special. The energy in this arena is different for this one."
The commentators paused as the camera panned back to the cage, now ready for the co-main event.
In the Back
Damon bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, his movements fluid and calculated.
He shook his hands out, loosening his arms, and gave his chest a few light slaps, more to center himself than anything else. His breathing was steady, his focus razor-sharp.
He'd fought in places smaller than this, backyards where the only crowd was a handful of rowdy spectators. This was familiar territory.
The crowd's roar got louder as Damon came out, with his team right behind him. As he walked toward the cage, the lights showed him the way. His face was calm and focused.
The commentary came alive as Damon entered the arena.
"Here he is! Damon Cross, The Supreme Fighter, making his official UFA debut on short notice," one commentator announced with excitement.
"This is a massive moment for him," another chimed in. "He's stepping up against a tough opponent in Cellan Gustalam, who came in heavy."
"And the crowd loves him already," the first commentator added. "Let's see if he can live up to the hype."
Damon went through the routine pre-fight checks with practiced ease.
The official patted him down, ensuring there was nothing out of place, while another applied Vaseline to his cheeks to prevent cuts during the fight.
He barely noticed any of it.
As he walked up to the cage, the small arena seemed to roar with a loudness that didn't match its size.
Standing at the door of the cage, Damon paused for a split second, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
.
He walked into the cage with purpose every step of the way. He heard the crowd's noise fade into a faint hum as the cage shut behind him.
He immediately locked eyes with Cellan Gustalam, who stood on the opposite side of the octagon, bouncing lightly on his feet, his face stoic but confident.
Damon's gaze was unwavering, his expression calm yet unreadable.
He began to moved around the ring and rolled his shoulders, loosening up as he kept his eyes locked on Cellan.