The arena was a landscape designed to disorient. It was a vast desert under a simulated triple-sun sky that bathed the arena in harsh, blinding light.
But the most prominent feature was his opponent.
Opposite him, perched high on a mountain, was DreamWeaver. It was a nightmarish sight, a colossal arachnid, its bulbous body covered in iridescent chitin that shifted colors like oil on water.
Eight long, spindly legs ended in razor-sharp points, and a cluster of multifaceted eyes glowed with a hypnotic, pulsating light.
The holographic crowd, millions strong, roared in anticipation.
<"WELCOME BACK TO THE CRUCIBLE, FOLKS! WE HAVE A MATCH FOR THE HISTORY BOOKS TONIGHT!">
<"IN THE RED CORNER, THE MASTER OF NIGHTMARES, THE REIGNING VICE-CHAMPION OF THE GOLD LEAGUE... DREAMWEAVER! AND IN THE BLUE CORNER, THE ROOKIE SENSATION WHO JUST DETHRONED THE WATCHER... PROJECT_PROMETHEUS!">
