The bright white light faded, depositing Adrian and Grok back onto the familiar, metallic platform of the Sector Transit Hub. They had returned to the Sparkborn sector.
Grok, freshly healed by the miraculous medical technology of the arena, looked physically as formidable as ever. His stone-like skin was unblemished as if the fight never happened.
But his posture told a different story. His massive shoulders were slumped, his four arms hung somewhat listlessly at his sides, and his usually boisterous voice was subdued. His pride, Adrian noted, had not healed nearly as quickly as his bones.
"You fought well, Adrian," Grok rumbled, his voice heavy with a warrior's resignation. "Your strength... it is real. The Grak honor our word. We owe you a favor. Name it, and it shall be done."
