Arman stayed tight on top, his pressure heavy and calculated. He didn't rush for ground and pound.
He was patient, classic grappler style. He kept Theo flat, controlling the hips, waiting for the moment Theo would make a mistake trying to explode or scramble.
But Theo didn't panic.
He kept moving, not wild, not frantic. He peeled at Arman's wrists, built frames, shifted his hips inch by inch.
Every time Arman adjusted his weight, Theo reacted. Small things. Elevating a knee. Sliding an elbow in. Making space.
Damon stood cage-side, nodding. This was what they trained for. He wasn't looking for a sweep or a reversal. Just space.
Theo tried for a guillotine once, tight, but not deep enough. Arman adjusted, crushed the attempt, and passed into half guard.
But in doing so, he had to lift his weight. He had to give up a bit of control.
And Theo took it.
He bridged hard, caught an underhook, and used the wall.
