As the dust settled in the arena, Zafron and Sakura stood amidst the wreckage, their chests heaving with exertion.
The crowd's roar was deafening, but to Zafron, it sounded distant, muffled by the pounding of his own heart.
[Well, that was certainly... invigorating,] Calista chimed in, her tone a mixture of amusement and relief. [I do hope we don't make a habit of nearly dying for sport, though. It's rather hard on the nerves.]
Before Zafron could respond, the match official strode onto the pitch, his face a mask of professional neutrality. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice amplified by some unseen technology, "due to the neutralization of one team member, I hereby declare Zafron and Sakura the winners of this match!"
The crowd erupted into fresh cheers, their enthusiasm bordering on manic. Zafron barely had time to process the announcement before a blur of motion caught his eye.
