The air is fresh, monotone and dead. Doesn't smell like Maya.

  I look around me. My eyes take a second to adjust.

  A wall, circular, cream colored. There is a gate across me, similar to the one I came from.

  The Sun is roaring from the sky, but there is no heat radiating. Only aesthetics.

  Maya has disappeared.

  Above the walls is occupied by some people, they are masked. Like me.

  This architecture, it reminds me of the Romans.

  The surface below me is sand. Then it hits me.

  The Colosseum. I am in the colosseum.

  Before I get the time to even feel the shock, a screen appears before me.

  There are just two things written on it.

  Name: Dio. Class: ----.

  Opponent: Soph. Class: -----.

  Footsteps against the mud. Even. Light.

  I look across me. She stops as soon as my head turns.

  She immediately assumes a stance.

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  Light reflected from her white armor blinds my vision.

  I flinch. A moment.

  She appears before me, instant. I feel something cool brushing against my skin.

  I duck my head, close call.

  She kicks my stomach, the metal hits hard but it doesn't feel hard. I blame the suit.

  The kick puts distance between us.

  There is a second, then she is upon me again.

  She swings again. This time at the stomach.

  I move to the right, only to find I cannot.

  The sword finds my organs and becomes crimson.

  She attempts to move her sword upwards but I break free of the sand that bound my leg and go backwards.

  She continues the swinging motion.

  Her onslaught stops.

  I cover my stomach with a hand and feel the warmth of my blood.

  The warmth, the atmosphere, the pain, the adrenaline and my opponent.

  My already broken mind fractures again. The foreign power invades my body.

  My eyes dilate. My posture changes. Pain turns into excitement.

  Despair turns into arousal.

  Soph understands the change. She assumes caution now.

  I run my bloody hand through my hair.

  Unamused by my theatrics, Soph starts moving slowly towards me.

  Simultaneously, coils of sand, shaped as chains start to wrap around me. One rogue coil attempts to invade the hole in my body. I shiver as it slightly does.

  Soph becomes faster as she closes the distance. Her hands adjusting and gripping the sword to finish a motion.

  1m. 50 cm. 20 cm.

  And then she is before me. Her hands extend, the cold prickles my skin. Goosebumps form as the iron comes near.

  The sword reaches just short of my stomach when her arms literally fold into themselves. Bones become naught, direction becomes meaningless. Something grotesque replaces her arms.

  The sound of the sword falling down is shadowed by an unholy scream.

  A scream that celebrated an insidious pain. A scream that reminded them of the cruel blue eyes of war.

  The sand around me falls down. It shifts on the ground matching the screams of the woman.

  Her pain brings me joy. It gives me victory.

  I lust for more.

  I take in her screams for a moment. I look around me and bow towards the audience thanking them for attending my performance.

  Their earlier indifference in posture shows signs of shock now.

  The performance concludes as the noise loses its charm.