The heavy iron doors of The Viper's Embrace groaned open, revealing the cavernous arena pit.
The atmosphere inside was heavy. It didn't smell like a traditional gladiator pit, which usually reeked of blood, sawdust, and fear. It smelled of ozone, expensive perfume, and the faint, metallic tang of anticipation.
The black volcanic sand of the arena floor had been raked into perfect, zen-like patterns. The VIP boxes overhead were draped in purple velvet, and the magical lighting was dimmed to a moody, theatrical glow.
But the biggest change was the audience.
The stands weren't empty.
A dozen Bone-Maids, polished to a gleaming ivory white and wearing tasteful velvet chokers and maid headbands, stood along the railings. They acted as ushers, standing with perfect, rigid posture.
Floating between the rows were the Void Bunnies, holding trays of drinks that smoked with dry ice. They phased through the stone benches to deliver cocktails to invisible ghosts.
