The stadium roared with life, a chaotic blend of riots and cheers surging through the air as Asher’s name echoed across the crowd. The announcer’s voice thundered through the speakers, firm and undeniable.

“And the winner is… Asher!”

Asher stood center stage, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his skin slick with sweat. Yet, somehow, not a scratch marred his skin, not a single drop of blood spilled. He looked as powerful and untouchable as ever. The championship belt gleamed on his shoulder as the referee lifted his arm high, a testament to his victory.

Amidst the roar of the crowd, Asher’s eyes sought you out, locking onto yours with a steady intensity. His lips curled into a confident smirk, and with a subtle, unmistakable gesture, he pointed directly at you—a silent dedication, a promise made in front of thousands.

It was as if, in that moment, the chaotic stadium faded, and there was only you and Asher, bound by a quiet understanding.