Start of Battle Royale [part 1]

**The Entrance to the Arena**

The corridor leading to the entrance of the Colosseum was narrow and damp, with the dim light of the torches on the walls casting flickering shadows over the group of participants advancing with determined steps.

Each of us was a threat, a dark force ready to be unleashed in the impending battle.

The air was thick with tension, a mix of anxiety, excitement, and pure hatred.

I could hear the hurried breaths of the other participants, the tension in their bodies as they prepared to enter a place from which only one would emerge alive.

Beside me, one of the opponents caught my attention.

The colossus, with skin as dark as ebony and arcane tattoos that pulsed under the flickering torchlight, grunted as he stared at the entrance.

The muscles on his arms were so defined they seemed ready to burst, and the bronze chest plate he wore looked almost ridiculous on his imposing frame.

"I can't wait to feel bones crunching under my mace," he said with a grin that revealed yellowed and chipped teeth, gripping the iron weapon as if it were part of him.

"You'll have to do better if you want to survive," replied another participant behind us, his voice low and sharp like the blades at his side.

I turned slightly to observe the man who had spoken.

He was lean and tall, with silver hair falling messily over his pale, sharp face.

He wore leather armor with chains wrapped around his body like a second skin.

His icy eyes, impassive, scanned the group with an unsettling calm, calculating every move as if he was already planning how to take us down one by one.

"Do you think you've already got control of the situation, Snake?" the colossus retorted, showing a sneer of disdain.

The silver-haired fighter, nicknamed "Snake" for his slippery and lethal ways, merely smiled, his curved daggers glinting in the torchlight.

"No, but I know how to use it when the time is right."

I remained silent, observing the scene as the electricity in the air grew more palpable.

Every fiber of my being was tense, wrapped in the black, iridescent armor that reflected the torchlight with a sinister gleam.

The dark metal, streaked with glowing cracks pulsing like molten magma, seemed an integral part of me, alive and menacing.

At my side hung a sword, the weapon I had chosen for the upcoming battle.

Its blade was as black as the darkness itself, carved with runes that seemed to move, and it reflected the light with an eerie glow.

The veins protruding under my skin glowed with a sinister light, creating an almost spectral contrast with the armor.

My muscles, swollen and contorted under the metal, seemed to tear and rebuild themselves in a painful yet exhilarating cycle, as if I were constantly on the verge of exploding into devastating power.

My hands were monstrous claws, the nails, now thick black blades, seemed capable of cutting through steel as easily as a knife cuts through butter.

Every movement of my fingers was accompanied by a sinister sound, the metal screeching as a warning of what I was capable of.

Snake looked at me, tilting his head slightly, perhaps noticing how my pupils, transformed into thin slits, scrutinized him with the intensity of a predatory beast.

"And you?" he asked, his voice a barely audible hiss. "Do you really think you can win with that monster mask?"

I didn't respond immediately, letting the silence hang between us.

The smile spreading across my face revealed sharp, irregular teeth, ready to tear through flesh and bone.

My jaw, strong and jutting, tensed slightly, a sign of the dark energy coursing through me.

"It's not just a mask," I finally said, in a tone so cold that even Snake faltered slightly.

"It's a reminder of what awaits you."

Snake smirked, but his gaze grew more cautious.

The colossus snorted, seemingly indifferent to our exchange, focused solely on the impending carnage.

The drums rolled louder, signaling that the moment had come.

The arena doors creaked open, revealing the expanse of sand illuminated by the green flames burning along the perimeter.

The air was heavy with anticipation, every breath seemed to freeze in the atmosphere saturated with tension.

One by one, the participants began to cross the threshold.

I moved toward the entrance, feeling the energy surge through me, the power boiling in my muscles ready to be unleashed.

The Colosseum awaited, the crowd roared and cheered, but I heard nothing except the roar of my inner power demanding to be released.

It was time.

Ragnarok was about to begin.

**The Commentator and the Rules of the Battle Royale**

The roar of the crowd paused for a moment as the torches of the Colosseum extinguished, plunging the arena into dense darkness.

The anticipation was palpable, a silence heavy with tension that was broken only when a powerful voice boomed through the stone walls.

"Ladies and gentlemen," began the commentator, his voice smooth and sharp as a finely honed blade, echoing off the Colosseum walls.

"Welcome to the Ryushin Colosseum Battle Royale! For those of you who are new to our illustrious spectacle, allow me to explain how it differs from a normal duel."

His voice rose in pitch, almost with a barely concealed enthusiasm, as he described the brutal, merciless rules of what was about to happen.

"A typical duel in the Colosseum is governed by ancient rules, bound by laws that honor the art of combat.

First, there is a truce until the signal from the master of arms.

This allows the duelists to gauge each other, to feel the strength of their opponent.

Second, the use of permanent spells and curses is forbidden.

Finally, the duel ends when one of the participants is disarmed, declares surrender, or is deemed unable to continue."

There was a brief moment of silence, during which the tension seemed to build even more, before the commentator resumed with a darker tone.

"But this," he continued, "is not a simple competition. This is the Battle Royale!

A test of strength and endurance like no other.

Here, there are no rules to protect you.

There are no truces or moments of reprieve where every single move, every single attack is allowed.

There are no limits to what you can do to survive.

Here, in the Ryushin Colosseum, anything goes. Dark magic, lethal spells, curses that will follow you to the grave... Everything is permitted, because only the strongest, the most cunning, the most ruthless will emerge victorious."

The crowd roared in response, fueled by the promise of unlimited violence.

The commentator let the crowd's enthusiasm rise before continuing, his voice now almost a whisper but charged with terrible excitement.

"Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, you will witness the true essence of survival.

There will be no mercy, no second chances.

The Battle Royale will only end when the last fighter remains standing, surrounded by the bodies of their opponents.

This is the law of the Ryushin Colosseum. This is the law of the Battle Royale."

The crowd erupted in applause, screaming and cheering with a fury that resonated like thunder within the ancient walls.

The torches suddenly reignited, illuminating the golden sand of the arena and the faces of the participants, now clearly visible to the avid eyes of the crowd.

"Remember," the commentator concluded with a sinister note, "there is no honor, only survival. Let the games begin!"

With those words, the doors swung fully open, revealing the vast arena that awaited its tribute of blood.

The participants moved slowly, each aware that from that moment on, every step could be their last.

And with only one thought in mind: win, at any cost.