The arena shook with noise. The crowd was on its feet, voices layered over each other, some shouting his name, others roaring without words.
The broadcast team shouted over the chaos, struggling to keep pace with what had just happened.
Damon didn't react right away.
He walked along the inside of the cage, breathing through his nose. His shoulders stayed squared, arms low at his sides.
When he reached the center of the fence, he raised one glove and struck it, once, then again. A short burst of power, enough to rattle the panel. Then he brought his fist to his chest and hit it, twice, just as sharp.
His face was hard. No smile. No celebration.
He looked around, eyes scanning the crowd without pause. Focused. Still locked in.
