Red beams shot across the arena like falling sparks.
Above them, the sky looked like a giant mirror, bending and showing every move over and over again.
The tall stone walls around the arena were cracked and scorched from stray shots. The floor was broken glass, blackened and sharp where beams had hit.
There was no fire. No crowd. Just glowing red light and thin threads shining in the dark.
In the middle of this war, two fighters faced off.
Kardrax stood loose and grinning. The cuts across his arms bled slowly, trails of glowing red dripping to the ground, but his grin only widened with each new wound.
His blue hair whipped in the wind, and his glowing red eyes shimmered with a predator's hunger.
Akedios stood opposite, straight-backed and still. His hands barely moved. Threads coiled from his fingertips like silk from a spider's gut, thin, invisible unless they shimmered with reflected light. His face, in opposite to Kardrax, was calm.
He sighed.
