Wembley Stadium was mostly empty, but it wasn't silent.
Not truly.
Even without a crowd, the arena hummed with motion - a metallic heartbeat under construction. Floodlights blink-tested in rows. Temporary barricades were being welded into place. Staff moved like worker ants, hauling equipment cases larger than themselves.
The scent of industrial coffee and lubricated hinges drifted through the air. A distant PA system crackled with static, someone testing mic levels far too early in the day. Cable lines coiled like snakes across concrete, gaffer tape sealing them down in uneven black scars.
But compared to the sky? This place was peaceful.
Up above London, lightning and wind collided again and again, each strike punctuated by thunder loud enough to echo through boroughs. Takeshi and Ryuunosuke were engaged in an intense deathmatch, each of their attacks powerful enough to cut down most mutants. The kind of fight that would make A-Rank operatives sweat just hearing about it.
