Damon nodded to the official as he finished his pre-fight check.
Vaseline was wiped across his cheeks, his gloves were secured, and the final inspection was done.
With that, he turned and approached the cage.
Stepping onto the stairs, he crouched low, walking on all fours as he climbed up, his movement animalistic.
It was something he had done before, a motion that felt instinctual, a sign that he was ready to hunt.
As soon as he entered the cage, he stood up, locking eyes with Jon Dlachovizc.
The Polish fighter stood tall on his side of the octagon, his face unreadable.
But Damon didn't blink.
He didn't look away.
This was it. No more buildup. No more waiting.
Just a fight.
Damon and Jon Dlachovizc stood across from each other.
Same height.
Same weight, on paper.
But Damon was staring at a former light heavyweight champion.