The Black Hound members, the host, and the guests remained frozen in place, not knowing what to do. The person who had been threatening them all, the man who had held every soul in the building under his thumb, was now lying broken on the floor.
Evon had been beaten so hard that his body refused to obey him. He was no longer standing up, and every time he tried to push himself off the canvas, his muscles gave out. Maybe if he had been wearing an exoskeleton on his legs, he could have found the mechanical support to stand, but the prototype he was wearing only covered his arms. After all, Evon was primarily there to test the offensive capabilities of the product. Finally, as Evon's eyesight began to return, he found himself staring up at the bright, buzzing arena lights. He knew in his gut that he was unable to move.
He was barely able to lift his head as he watched Aron walking toward him, the sound of the baton dragging against the floor echoing in the silence.
