The Fate Platform vibrated faintly as if the massive stone disc itself sensed what was about to erupt.
Hundreds of contenders stood in the ring. The silence was strangling. No one dared breathe too loudly. No one wanted to be the spark.
Tension coiled tighter…
A heartbeat…
A pause…
Then the shaved-head leader raised his arm.
"NOW!"
His voice tore through the air like flint to powder.
The twenty independents who had joined forces launched forward in formation.
A half-moon wave surged toward whoever stood closest.
The other contenders were forced to draw together for survival.
The independent group's first target was a trio of Feykin, an Ironclad, and an elf who just happened to be standing beside one another. A coincidence turned into a battlefield.
The arena detonated.
Stone cracked. Dust flew. Fists met flesh with hollow booms.
A dozen bodies staggered backward from the initial collision.
