Damon finished up training for the day, sweat soaking through the fabric of his shirt, hands sore from another hard session of pads, clinch, and drills.
His breathing was steady, his body loose.
The gym lights above buzzed faintly, casting a glow over the mats as he stood there, relaxed and smiling to himself.
He'd been doing this long enough to recognize the difference between pushing through discomfort and thriving in it.
At first, adjusting to the added weight had been strange. His balance had shifted. His movement felt a little off.
There was more mass to control, more pressure on the joints, and a whole different tempo to manage. But that was weeks ago.
Now he moved like he had always belonged here.
From the outside, Damon had always looked like a natural middleweight.
He never struggled with the weight cut, his system kept him in check, always hovering just close enough.
