CHAPTER 783: CHAPTER 783: SPIN OF FATE

The middleweights stepped forward, a mix of curiosity and caution in their expressions.

Ronan stood beside the spin board like a proud game show host, one hand hovering dramatically over the start button.

"Alright, here we go," he said, eyes scanning the group. "This is for Match One, Fighter A. Let’s spin it!"

The screen whirred, the names of all four middleweights flashing in a blur.

Damon kept his arms folded, leaning on one leg as if he was trying not to look too invested. Ivan, hands in his pockets, watched with a faint smirk.

The spin slowed. The beeps got louder and sharper until the name froze in big, bold letters.

THAMI ZULU

The South African grinned and stepped forward, bumping fists with a couple of teammates.

"Big Thami in the house," Ronan announced. "Now, let’s see who’s got the pleasure of fighting him." He slapped the button again. The screen lit up, the names scrambling once more.

Damon didn’t say a word, but his eyes flicked toward José for a second.

The spin slowed...

CHASE DUNHAM

A collective "oooh" went up from the fighters, half teasing, half excited. Chase shook his head but grinned anyway. "Let’s go, big man," he said, pointing at Thami.

"Match One is locked!" Ronan barked. "Thami versus Chase. Now for Match Two, well, this one’s simple, the two left are facing each other."

The screen didn’t need to spin. JOSÉ ALVAREZ and THEO BRUNNER stepped forward, shaking hands with that mutual ’let’s give them a show’ look.

"Middleweight semi-finals are set," Ronan announced, spreading his arms. "And remember, no holding back just ’cause you train together. This is your shot at the finale."

The fighters started drifting back to their corners, some joking, some already sizing each other up.

Damon gave José and Theo a small nod, a silent reminder to handle business.

Ivan didn’t say a word, but his eyes lingered on Chase, almost as if he was already thinking about how to help him get past Thami.

The energy in the room had shifted. This wasn’t just a tournament anymore, it was a collision course between teammates, and everyone knew it.

This was the craziest set of matchups the UFA had ever approved.

Normally, pairing teammates against each other was the absolute last resort, something they only did when there were no other options left.

In the lightweight division, it was understandable.

Damon’s fighters were the only ones remaining, so they had no choice but to face each other.

But in the middleweight division? There were still possible matchups between his fighters and Ivan’s. This didn’t have to happen.

It was baffling. Even Damon couldn’t hide his surprise.

He wasn’t informed about this change, and he wasn’t the type to like surprises, especially ones that shifted the dynamics of the tournament.

He had felt better knowing at least two of the middleweight bouts would pit his fighters against Ivan’s.

That would have kept the pressure where it belonged, on the rivalry between the coaches.

But now? This just felt like someone had decided to stir the pot for the sake of drama.

Damon’s eyes followed the fighters as they stepped back from the draw, and for a moment, he just stood there, processing.

The competitors didn’t seem to mind. The cameras would capture smiles, handshakes, and light-hearted exchanges. But in Damon’s head, the calculations had already changed.

He had no choice now. Training camp had turned into a chess match where he was both the player and the opponent.

Every drill, every round of sparring, every tactical adjustment would be shared between fighters who might stand across from each other under the lights in just a few days.

Damon didn’t like it, but he couldn’t hold back on one side just to protect them.

If he did, it wouldn’t be fair to the other. And if he tried to favor one, it would destroy the trust he’d built.

So the plan was simple: train them all to beat the best version of themselves.

The sessions would be sharper, more tactical, and more intense than ever.

They’d push each other in the gym, then push each other again in the cage.

For Damon, it wasn’t about keeping the peace anymore.

It was about making sure whoever walked out with the win did it because they earned it, not because the other was unprepared.

Many fans expressed their reactions on social media, chirper, from yesterday’s coaches challenge, to today’s match up drama, they had a lot to say.

@FightFan_89:

"So Damon’s lightweights all have to fight each other? That’s brutal, man. Should’ve saved teammate vs teammate for the finals."

@IrishIron:

"Ivan winning that beam thing already gave his team a boost, and now this? Kinda sus if you ask me."

@CageJunkie:

"Honestly, I’m here for it. Lightweights are stacked. Teammates or not, I just want good fights."

@CombatNerd:

"Ronan really said, ’let’s spice it up’ and cooked chaos. Love it."

@MMARealTalk:

"Teammate matchups are only fun if there’s tension. These guys don’t even hate each other. It’s gonna feel weird."

@UFA_Gossip:

"Plot twist: this is all just Damon’s punishment for losing to Ivan in that beam balance challenge 😂"

@KenjiNation:

"I don’t care if it’s teammates, Kenji’s walking out of there with a W."

@RonnyRules:

"If Ronny vs Ayo happens, I’m calling it now—fight of the season."

@WaterfallChoke:

"The coaches challenge was funny as hell though. Damon’s face when he slipped 💀"

@PunchPoint:

"Ivan’s smirk after winning that thing... man, I’d pay double to see them fight for real."

@FightBanter247:

"Lightweights fighting each other makes sense ’cause Ivan’s guys are all gone. Middleweight change? Nah, that’s just drama bait."

@TheRealChirperMMA:

"Damon’s too competitive to take that loss lightly. He’s smiling for the cameras but you know he’s plotting for redemption."

@SledPullChamp:

"That last sprint in the coaches challenge was insane. Both were moving like tanks in the water. Respect."

Ronan stayed back as the teams left, arms folded, a grin stretching across his face.

This was exactly the kind of chaos he thrived on.

Right now, everyone could still pretend to be friends, cracking jokes and slapping each other on the back, but once they got back to the house, that was gone.

Every handshake today could turn into a headkick tomorrow.

He knew how fighters worked, especially in this environment.

It wasn’t personal yet, but now the bracket had forced teammate versus teammate, and the clock was ticking.

The silence in the training room would start to feel heavier.

Small disagreements over food or gym equipment would grow teeth.

Even the ones who swore they didn’t care would feel the shift.

Ronan could already picture the confessionals, the awkward stares across the kitchen, the clipped words between sparring rounds.

The fights themselves would sell tickets, but the tension in between? That was going to blow the roof off the ratings.

Drama wasn’t just possible, it was inevitable. And that was exactly what he wanted.