"184 for Robert Rein Daneur!"
RDD flexed on stage, arms wide, face cold.
The crowd roared, some cheering, others booing, but all reacting. He stood tall and confident, clearly fueled by the attention.
His body looked healthy, with no signs of strain from the cut. He hadn't killed himself to make weight, and it showed.
He stepped down with a smirk, nodding to his corner.
Then came the real silence.
Ivan Novak walked up slow, calm, pulling off his shirt. The noise didn't matter. He wasn't here for the crowd. His physique spoke loud enough shredded, broad, every muscle defined with terrifying sharpness.
He stepped on the scale.
"185 on the mark for Ivan Novak!"
Some fans lost it. Others held their breath. Ivan didn't react. He simply stepped down, locked eyes with RDD across the stage, and nodded once.
Just two monsters, both in peak form, stepping toward the collision.
And backstage, Damon Cross watched it on a monitor, arms crossed.
Ivan and RRD stepped up to each other, standing face to face.
"IVAN NOVAK FACES OFF AGAINST ROBERT REIN DANEUR!! FOR THE MIDDLEWEIGHT INTERIM TITLE!" the announcer shouted as the crowd roared.
Both men held their ground, staring each other down.
Then they stepped off stage, and the energy in the room shifted.
It was time for the main event.
Damon walked out quickly, wasting no time. He took off his shirt as he stepped up, his body solid and strong from months of training. His expression was calm, but his eyes were focused.
He stepped on the scale.
"205 for Damon 'The Ronin' Cross!"
The crowd clapped loudly. Cameras flashed. The sound of his name filled the arena.
He didn't say anything. He just waited. His opponent was next.
When Alex Tereira stepped out, the crowd lit up.
Fans shouted for him to face their cameras, waving flags and signs. He nodded calmly, then walked up to the scale. After taking off his shirt, he looked lean, ready, and just as composed as ever.
He stepped onto the scale.
"204.5 for Alex 'Poatan' Tereira!"
The announcer's voice echoed as the crowd erupted in cheers.
Tereira stepped down. Damon didn't wait. He moved forward, and the two met in the center of the stage.
Face to face. Calm. Intense.
"CHAMA! CHAMA! CHAMA! CHAMA!"
But just as loud, and just as fierce, came the reply.
"CROSS! CROSS! CROSS! CROSS!"
The noise was deafening. Fans from both sides filled the arena with chants as cameras flashed nonstop.
No words were exchanged between the fighters, just a long, focused stare.
The fight was close now. Everyone could feel it.
It was so good, neither of the fighters looked dehydrated or drained.
From the co-main event to the main event, everyone looked extremely healthy.
Which left many waiting fir the performance fight.
The media pit was packed. Fighters from every match on the card sat in rows behind the main table, but all cameras focused on four names.
At the center, under bright lights and behind heavy gold-lettered branding, sat UFA President Ronan Black, dressed sharp and calm behind the mic.
"To all of you watching, welcome to the official event press conference for UFA 274: Dual Thrones."
Behind him, fighters flanked both sides. The early prelim names, the feature prelims, the rising contenders... but in the center were the real targets.
Ivan Novak and Robert Rein Daneur on one end.
Damon Cross and Alex Tereira on the other.
"And at the top," Ronan continued, "we have two title fights that could shake up the entire UFA landscape."
He pointed subtly to his left.
"In the co-main event, Ivan Novak, undefeated in the UFA, faces Robert Rein Daneur, a former world champion overseas, for the Interim Middleweight Title."
"And in the main event: Champion vs Champion. Two weight classes collide. Damon Cross, the reigning middleweight king, moves up to face Alex 'Poatan' Tereira, UFA Light Heavyweight Champion."
The crowd roared. Flashes went off. Shouts of "Cross!" and "Chama!" collided in midair.
Reporters got right to it.
"Robert, Ivan, you've both been talked about as the future of the division. Do you see this as the real title?"
RRD answered first, mic calm in his hand. "Interim or not, I win Saturday, I am the champion. Whether Damon comes back down or not, the belt becomes mine."
Ivan cut in flat. "The belt's just a symbol. I came to fight. Saturday night, I put a stamp on this division."
There was no forced rivalry. Just tension from two fighters with real weight behind their words.
"Damon, Alex, there's been a lot of talk. How do you see this fight playing out?"
Damon leaned into the mic. "Fast. Violent. I didn't come here to steal a belt. I came here to earn another one."
Tereira sat still, his eyes locked on Damon.
He spoke calmly in Portuguese, voice deep and slow.
"Ele é um grande lutador. Mas esse é o meu peso. O meu território. Ele está entrando na minha guerra."
His translator leaned into the mic. "He said 'He's a great fighter. But this is my weight. My territory. He's walking into my war.'"
Damon turned slightly toward him, voice low. "That why you've been training with wrestlers every day for six months?"
Tereira smirked, just enough to be noticed. Then he answered directly in English.
"Smart fighters prepare."
Damon nodded once. "So do finishers."
Another wave of shouts. Ronan put a hand up, smiling slightly. He liked the fire, but not the chaos.
"This is a global event," he said. "People tuned in from five continents. Stockton is hosting a monster card, fifteen fights, ten nations represented, two titles on the line, and one future for the UFA."
Another question hit.
"Damon, this is Stockton. Your old stomping ground. Does it mean more to you?"
Damon gave a small shrug. "Everything I built started in these streets. I've fought for my life here. It's not about pressure. It's just home. And I always win at home."
One last question was allowed.
"Ronan, whoever wins between Ivan and RRD, there's talk of them coaching the next Supreme Fighter alongside Damon. Is that true?"
Ronan just smiled, tapping the mic once.
"All I'll say is... whoever wins that co-main event better stay ready. Their next fight might be the biggest of their lives."
The crowd exploded again.
Photos followed. Staredowns.