(The camera opens inside LVAC Gym in Las Vegas. The hum of treadmills and clatter of weights form a rhythmic backdrop. Sunlight filters through large windows, catching the dust in the air. Carter Durant stands center-frame beneath a pull-up bar. He’s dressed in athletic gear—black compression shorts and a UTA-branded tank top that shows off his lean, muscular build. Sweat glistens on his brow as he finishes a set of explosive plyometric jumps.)

(Carter steps forward toward the camera, breathing steady but intense. He wipes his face with a towel, then flicks it aside, planting his feet shoulder-width apart. His green eyes lock onto the lens, a determined smirk on his face.)

Carter Durant (voice strong, charged with energy):
“Las Vegas, you think you’ve seen speed? You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

(He bounces lightly on the balls of his feet, arms slightly extended for balance. He cracks his knuckles, then points to his chest.)

Carter Durant:
“I’m Carter Durant—from New Orleans, Louisiana. 6-foot-0, 210 pounds of southern storm energy. I traded sweat tracks for wrestling mats, and let me tell you: my collegiate track background ain’t just a chapter in my life; it’s the core of who I am. Every morning, I’m the first one on these machines—sprinting, lifting, leaping—pushing my body past the limit. Why? Because I know what it means to fight for something bigger than yourself.”

(He starts doing high-knee runs in place, demonstrating crisp form. His voice rises in conviction.)

Carter Durant:
“How does that help me in the ring? Simple. When that bell rings, while other guys are catching their breath, I’m already three moves ahead—sliding out of danger, leaping off the top rope, hitting corners at full speed. Those big, lumbering opponents? They can’t tag me—they can’t even touch me. Because when you can outrun ‘em, out-leap ‘em, you control the pace of the fight.”

(He pauses mid-stride, leaning in as if sharing a secret.)

Carter Durant (lower, intense):
“But this isn’t just about athleticism. I mentor at-risk youth back in New Orleans—kids who think their future’s already written. I tell them: ‘Feel the gust—Storm’s coming!’ And when I step into that United Toughness Alliance qualifying tournament, I’m carrying every one of those kids with me. They’ve watched me break through finish-line tape, and now they’ll watch me break through a barricade of doubt and adversity.”

(He stops running, stands tall, and extends an arm to the side, as if inviting the audience into his world.)

Carter Durant:
“This country is built on grit. From the bayous of Louisiana to the desert in Nevada, we fight for every inch. The UTA Championship is the prize at the end of that fight—a symbol that hard work, heart, and hustle still mean something. And let me be clear: I’ve trained for years to be at the top of my game. My lungs burn, my legs ache, and every drop of sweat in this gym is proof—proof that when you put in the work, you earn your moment.”

(Carter squares his shoulders, chest rising as he breathes deep. He nods, as if affirming a promise.)

Carter Durant (voice booming with conviction):
“So to every athlete in that bracket—get ready. Because the storm is rolling in, and when the dust settles, there’s only one champion standing tall. I’m Carter Durant, and I’m coming for that UTA gold.”

(He throws both fists into the air, then exhales, his gaze never wavering from the camera. The gym’s ambient noise swells as the shot lingers on Carter’s determined expression before fading to black.)