Part- 354:

  A wave ret washed over him. He thought of the tless hours spent training, the bruises that had bee familiar, the moments of doubt that had pushed him to dig deeper, to fight harder. He had been willing to risk it all for his teammates, to prove himself, to show that he was more than just a name on the roster. But now, lying o, all he could feel was the gnawing pain in his knee and the fear that this injury might keep him from fighting again.

  **“If I ’t pete, what am I? Just another fa the crowd?”**

  Tears pricked at the ers of his eyes, and he blihem away furiously, unwilling to let them fall. He could hear his teammates’ voices around him—, worry, encement—but all he could focus on was the bitterness of his defeat.

  **“I was so close…”** Sourov thought bitterly. **“But in the end, it doesn’t matter. They will remember my fight, not my injury.”**

  The weight of disappoi pressed heavily on his chest. **“I wao be a hero for them. To make them proud.”**

  ---

  As they helped Sourov off the mat, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. They had woch, but it had e at a steep cost. The cheers of victory sounded distant now, like echoes of a dream that was slipping away.

  “Stay with us, Sourov!” Ryan’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts. The urgen his friend’s tone anchored him, pulling him back to the present. “Yoing to be okay. Just hold on.”

  “Am I?” Sourov murmured, his voice thick with emotion. **“What if I ’t e back from this?”** The doubt crept in, gnawing at him like a hungry beast.

  He could see the etched on James’s face as he k beside him, his brow furrowed. “You did great, Sourov. You were amazing out there!” But the words felt hollow, and Sourov wished he could share in the victory everyone was celebrating.

  ---

  As they moved to carry him out, the noise of the crowd faded into a dull roar. Sourov couldn’t shake the feeling of defeat, the bitter taste of what could have been. **“I fought like a lion, but it all feels meaningless now.”**

  He stole a gnce back at Jiko, who was being gratuted by his own teammates, a mix of resped disappoi evident on his face. Jiko had fought hard, too, and though he had lost, there was a fire in his eyes that Sourov envied. **“Will I ever feel that fire again?”**

  As they approached the exit, Sourov caught ss of versations around him, cheers and ughter, but all he could feel was the weight of his own thoughts. He was an athlete—one who had poured his soul into every punch, every throw, a, here he was, broken aed.

  **“I wao be a champion,”** he thought, g his fists as they carried him toward the medical area. **“But I don’t even know if I’ll be able to step onto the mat again.”**

  The reality of the moment sank in deeper. **What if this was the end? What if he never got to pete again?**

  ---