The Fight Pit buzzed with a frenetic energy that made Zafron's skin prickle. The circular arena, ringed by towering walls of scavenged metal and pulsing crystals, seemed to trap and amplify every shout, every jeer, every clash of fist against flesh. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and something else – a crackling ozone smell that set his teeth on edge.
Across the pit stood his opponent, a mountain of a man known only as "Crusher." The crowd's favorite, if the deafening chants were anything to go by. Zafron's eyes were drawn to the massive gauntlet adorning Crusher's right arm, easily the size of a small child. Veins of crystal pulsed along its surface, giving off an eerie blue glow.
"So," Zafron muttered under his breath, "that's the new power crystal everyone's been buzzing about," he overhead some of the other fighters talking about it and already, he was on it l, doing a little background research on things.
