The roar of the crowd was deafening. A million voices, human and alien alike, chanted in unison, demanding blood. Above the arena, holo-screens displayed betting odds, shifting constantly as last-minute wagers were placed. The Coliseum of Dominion was the heart of the cosmos' most brutal spectacle, and Kael Ardyn was about to become its newest victim.
He knelt in the sand, hands bound in magnetized cuffs. The air smelled of sweat, rust, and the lingering scent of ozone—a telltale sign of the last electromagnetic warrior who had fought here. His corpse still smoldered across the battlefield, the charred remains a warning to newcomers.
A deep, mechanical voice echoed through the stadium.
"Presenting our next challenger: a primitive, unawakened human! Fresh from the slave mines of Korrak Prime, a boy barely old enough to be worth slaughtering!"
Laughter erupted from the crowd. Kael clenched his fists, trying to suppress the fury boiling inside him. He had been captured two years ago when the Korrak Empire raided his colony, dragging survivors off-world for labor and entertainment. He had watched his family die, his home burned, and his people reduced to nothing more than amusement for alien overlords.
But he wasn't going to die here. Not yet.
The opposite gate rumbled open. From the darkness, a towering figure stepped into the light—a Morgath Warlord, its massive, four-armed frame gleaming under the artificial sun. Its tusked face twisted into a snarl as it let out a guttural growl.
Kael's heartbeat slowed. His mind was racing, but his instincts were clear: survive.
The announcer's voice cut through the stadium. "Let the execution begin!"
The Warlord charged.
Kael barely rolled in time. The Morgath's massive fist slammed into the ground where he had been kneeling, sending cracks through the stone. His body screamed in protest, still weak from starvation and years of captivity. But something deep inside him stirred. A tingling sensation spread through his veins, like static crawling under his skin.
The Warlord swung again, but this time, Kael saw it coming. He sidestepped, instincts sharper than before. He was moving faster. Reacting quicker. His breathing steadied.
Then he saw it—the loose metal chains from a fallen gladiator, barely an arm's reach away. He dove, grabbing the links, feeling the weight in his grip. The Morgath laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "A chain? You think you can kill me with that, human?"
Kael didn't respond. He focused. He felt the metal. It hummed against his skin, faint but alive. He pulled, not with strength, but with will. A spark of electricity danced between his fingertips.
The Warlord lunged. Kael snapped his wrist.
The chain whipped forward—faster than he could have swung it, as if pulled by an unseen force. The links wrapped around the Morgath's wrist, crackling with blue sparks. The alien snarled in pain as the metal locked in place, magnetized against its own armor.
Kael didn't understand how he was doing it, but he didn't hesitate. He twisted his body, yanking the chain. The Morgath stumbled, its balance compromised. A spark flared in Kael's vision, and suddenly, the chain surged with electricity—more than he should have been able to generate.
The Morgath howled as thousands of volts coursed through its body. The crowd gasped. A human… had just used electromagnetic manipulation.
Kael staggered, his breath ragged. His body was hot, charged, like he had tapped into something buried deep within him. The tingling wasn't just in his fingers anymore—it was in his blood, his bones, his soul.
For the first time in history, the Coliseum of Dominion had just witnessed the birth of an Electro Gladiator.