It didn't take long for Alex Tereira to make his way to the cage.
The moment his walkout ended and he stepped through the gate, the atmosphere shifted. The crowd noise faded under the weight of anticipation.
Now both men stood inside the octagon, facing each other across the center.
Alex didn't blink. He didn't fidget or shift his weight. He looked like a carved statue, still and silent.
His eyes stayed fixed on Damon with a stare that carried the weight of something personal. Like Damon had taken something from him. Like this wasn't just a fight, it was a reckoning.
Damon crouched slightly, hands loose near his knees, eyes steady. He returned the stare but without the same hostility. His expression was calm, almost curious.
He activated his ability. It wasn't just about power or control, it was about pressure, projection. One that cracked lesser men before a punch was even thrown.
But Alex didn't flinch.
