The Announcer spread his arms.
"There you have it. One built to break you open. One built to take everything you throw—and give it back."
He smiled as the arena began to shift beneath them.
"Let's begin."
The platform solidified beneath their feet—glass-paneled stone with dark seams running like veins through the surface. The sky overhead was pale gray, flat and silent, as if the world held its breath.
Ravel didn't move.
Camber adjusted his stance slightly—weight low, hands loose. Bairn hovered just behind him, arms curled like thick rope, soft limbs flexing in slow motion.
A single tone rang across the space.
The fight began.
Ravel stepped forward. Just a step—sharp, grounded.
Then the vertebrae moved.
One segment spun wide, breaking orbit, its edge catching the light as it drifted past Camber's left shoulder. The rest of the ring followed, re-aligning with quiet, fluid shifts.
