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The door opened and a staff member leaned in, drawing everyone\'s attention as the excitement in the room persisted. "Mr. Cross, your match is after the next one, so please get ready."

Damon inhaled deeply as he felt his adrenaline start to rise.

It was time to get ready.

.

.

.

Damon finished preparing, slipping into his dark green tight shorts with the "UFA" logo emblazoned on a black strap.

He ran his hand through his hair, the final stretch of calm before the storm.

Standing in the corridor with Whittier and the assistant coaches.

There was no more waiting.

It was time.

Suddenly, music blared through the arena, and Damon glanced up at the screen on the corridor wall.

It wasn\'t his time yet, Brian was walking out, flanked by his The Supreme Fighter coaches.

The crowd erupted, and Damon could feel the intensity building.

Soon, it would be his turn.

From the screen, Damon could hear the familiar voices of the commentary team: Demien Korvier, James Nix, and Jim Logan.

The first to speak was James Nix, who sounded enthusiastic. "Here comes Brian Walker, ladies and gentlemen, one of the top finalists of The Supreme Fighter. He\'s been dominant all season long."

Demien Korvier added, "Yeah, he\'s shown incredible wrestling and striking. I think his cardio is going to be a huge factor tonight."

Jim Logan chimed in with his usual enthusiasm, "No doubt, and let\'s not forget, he\'s coming in with a chip on his shoulder after everything that happened with his brother and Damon Cross. This is personal."

Damon took a deep breath.

As Damon walked out to the iconic beat of Lose Yourself, the roar of the crowd was deafening, a surge of energy that sent chills through his spine.

His palms felt sweaty, and for a moment, his knees slightly weak under the weight of the occasion.

He scanned the arena, thousands of fans cheering, their hands reaching out to touch him as he passed.

As Damon began his walkout, the commentary team reacted with genuine excitement.

First to speak again was James Nix, whose enthusiastic voice, "Here he is, Damon Cross, making his way to the cage in what has been an incredible journey for him throughout The Supreme Fighter. This is his chance to solidify everything he\'s worked for."

Demien Korvier chimed in, "You know, James, Damon has really proven himself. He\'s been the underdog for a lot of people, but the way he\'s handled each fight... he\'s shown that he\'s got serious skills, especially with that Muay Thai and BJJ combination. I think the nerves are gonna be there, but this is his moment to shine."

With his usual zeal, Jim Logan continued, "Look at how calm and collected he is, though. You can tell he\'s focused. This is Madison Square Garden, and this place has seen some of the greatest fights in history. Damon knows what\'s at stake. He\'s got one shot here, and he\'s got to make it count."

Nix agreed, "It\'s gotta be surreal for him, Demien. From where both fighters must\'ve both started, this moment here, it has to be their largest."

As Damon approached the cage, the tension built in the arena, the commentators capturing the sense of history and importance.

The lights, the noise, the pressure, it was all a lot.

This was his one shot, the chance he had worked for his entire life.

For a brief moment, he lost himself to the music, the beat carrying him forward.

But as the hands of the fans grazed his arms, snapping him back to reality, his focus sharpened.

Even though the nerves pulsed through him, he hid it well.

His face remained stoic, determined, as he walked toward the cage.

This was his night, and he wasn\'t about to let anything slip.

As Damon approached the official, the noise of the crowd seemed to fade slightly, replaced by the familiar routine of pre-fight checks.

The official, wearing a stern expression, gestured for Damon to step forward.

"Alright, arms out," the official said, his voice firm but routine.

Damon raised his arms, extending them out to his sides.

The official quickly patted down Damon\'s gloves, making sure they were secure. "Good," he said, then moved to check Damon\'s mouthguard.

"Let me see the mouthguard." Damon opened his mouth, showing the guard in place.

"Good to go," the official nodded, then asked to check the protective cup.

Damon patted and looked at him. "Cup\'s secure."

Finally, the official grabbed a small dab of Vaseline and applied it to Damon\'s face, focusing on his cheekbones and eyebrows to help prevent cuts.

"You\'re all set. Go ahead," the official said, stepping back.

Feeling the pressure of the moment return to his shoulders, Damon nodded and refocused before making his way into the cage and into the lights.

With deliberate steps, he approached the cage, his gaze fixed on Brian\'s figure inside.

Damon stopped as he got closer to the stairway, absorbing the electric energy surrounding him.

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The lights, the roaring crowd, none of it mattered anymore.

He stood still, at the edge of everything, and drew in the deepest breath he had taken all night.

In that instant, it all vanished, every nerve, every flicker of doubt.

The weight of the crowd\'s eyes fell away like dead leaves in the wind.

Fear had no place here.

All that remained was ice in his veins, a chilly, calculating serenity that took hold of him.

His mind sharpened, crystal clear.

He wasn\'t walking into a fight; he was walking into control.

Damon stepped into the cage, his movements smooth, slow, like a predator stepping into his domain.

He met Brian\'s eyes, and for a brief second, his lips curled into a smirk.

Brian wasn\'t locked in the cage with him.

Brian was trapped in there with Damon.