~GONG!~
The deep, resonating sound echoed through the vast arena, a signal that cut through the roar of the holographic crowd.
Grok didn't waste a second. He was a born performer, and this was his stage. Fueled by the adoration of the millions, he roared and charged.
He was a four-armed, reptilian freight train, his massive spiked maul held high, aiming to end this in a single, crowd-pleasing, executioner's strike.
Adrian's mind went into a state of cold, perfect focus. He stood his ground, not a trace of armor on his simple, grey uniform.
He might have defeated the Grak easily before, but he had this feeling that this wasn't the same Grok. So he didn't dare to underestimate the alien.
He saw the telegraphed, brutish charge and decided to show the crowd what true skill looked like.
He activated Phantom Flow, his mana circulating as he prepared for a simple, elegant sidestep, a move he had used a thousand times to make far faster opponents look like fools.
~WHOOSH!~
