The horn sounded, and Damon was already in motion.
He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, circling left, his eyes locked on the towering figure across from him.
Every muscle in his frame was active but relaxed, he was reading, not rushing.
The commentary team snapped into gear.
"And that's it, we're on! Damon Cross in the white tights, Alex Tereira in the yellow!"
"They're not wasting time here," the second voice added. "You can already see Damon testing the angles, that light footwork, bouncing in and out. But he's not giving Alex anything early. Just data collection."
"Both of these men are champions, and you can feel the weight of that. Tereira's holding the center early, look at his stance. That classic high guard, right hand locked near his chin. He's looking for one big read."
"And Damon knows it. That's why he's not throwing yet. He's feeling the tempo, watching the hips."
