The announcement comes, echoing through the arena with none of the weight it is supposed to carry. The words settle over the crowd, but they don't land. They hang there, disconnected from what everyone just saw.
And there is no celebration from Della Cruz. One of his cornermen reaches for his arm, trying to lift it, to present him as the winner. But he pulls it down immediately, like the gesture itself offends him.
He doesn't even look at the belt when Hermosa holds it out. He just steps through the ropes and drops to the floor outside, already moving.
"Hey, Arvin…"
Hermosa hesitates for a fraction of a second, the belt still in his hands, before he follows after him. The rest of the team trails behind, their movements lacking the usual structure that comes with victory.
"And that tells you everything," the lead commentator says. "That is not a man celebrating a win."
