Their visors flashed the rules:
FIRST COMPETITOR TO STEP OUT OF THE CIRCLE LOSES.
NO WEAPONS.
NO OUTSIDE INTERFERENCE.
NO MERCY.
Mara swallowed hard.
The Game Master raised his hand.“Competitors… begin!”
A shockwave rippled through the arena as the circle lit up beneath their feet. The ice hummed with energy, vibrating through her boots.
Mara and Vaelor began to circle each other.
It felt wrong.
Every step.
Every breath.
She didn’t want to fight him.
He didn’t want to fight her.
But the environment didn’t care.
The ice beneath them cracked sharply, a jagged fissure slicing across the circle. Mara jumped back instinctively. Vaelor mirrored her movement, eyes locked on hers.
The floor shifted again, sliding, forcing them to adjust their footing.
The arena wanted blood.
It wanted conflict.
It wanted a show.
“Mara,” Vaelor said, voice low, barely audible over the rumbling ice.
She shook her head. “Don’t. We’ll figure something out.”
Another crack split the ground between them, wider this time. A chunk of ice dropped away, revealing a glowing abyss beneath.
The circle was shrinking.
The Game Master’s voice echoed gleefully,“Standing still will not save you. Fight or fall!”
Mara clenched her fists. “We can’t just stand here.”
“We won’t,” Vaelor said.
They continued circling, but it was all for show. Neither raised a hand. Neither struck. Neither even feinted.
The crowd grew restless.
The arena grew angry.
