The air was electric.
Beneath the ruins of sector-7, underground stadium trembled with noise—cheering, roaring, chanting.names drenched in blood and glory. Hundreds of voices fused into a single thunderous current, vibrating through concrete and steel like a war drum.
(cut to black)
A dimly lit corridor at the far end flickered to life, a single dying light bulb spluttered overhead, casting a jagged shadow across cracked walls. It illuminated a rusted steel door painted over time and again—but still marked by fading, hand-scrawled letters:
[LOCKER ROOM#1].
inside, silence reigned.
The air was cold, the lights were low barely scrapping across the cold, stained tile floor. At their head end of one of the benches, alone figure sat–silently.
his hands were steady his foot tapped a slow, rhythmic beat on the floor, not from fear but focus.
Thoughts swirled like a storm behind calm eyes, and yet his gaze remained locked forward. Unmoving. Unshaken.
he could see flashes of memories he didn't want to remember. Bodies all around him, and a desperate plea of mercy of someone he stood atop of, there face was vague not because he didn't remember but because he didn't want to remember…
Then—
the door bursted open, snapping him back to reality.
blinding light from the corridor spilled in, chasing shadows into the corners. A towering figure stepped in, bald head glinting beneath the flickering fluorescent. A rough white-beard covered his scarred jaw. An eye patch vailed his left eye. His left arm was gone, replaced a clunky, scared bionic limp, softly humming with stored energy.
His voice was gravel and war.
"It's time boy…''
"Are you ready?…"
As the corridor light intensified washing past the old man…the light finally reached the warriors full frame.
He stood 6'ft of quite furry. Lean, curved muscles wrapped around a frame built for violence. His body was a canvas of scars and stitches—each one telling a story of survival, of wars fought and won.
"I was born ready coach!!" His voice calm and controlled. gleaming golden eyes ready for anything.
For a moment the two stood still— Student and mentor. Old lion and young wolf.
As he stepped out of the corridor the crowd roared in anticipation.
[name:Ash valestorm].
[Age:17]
[Rank:Champion of sectors-2 to 7]
[Title:Underdog, super rookie].
[Homo sapien]
[ability:none]
NARRATION:
After the relic war ended, the 12 saints—first to awaken created a new world order. One run not by politicians but by wealth, power and absolute authority.
power. Control.
Before they ascend(more on that later), each saint founded a ruling family–twelve in total–meant to maintain global balance. And they were spread out, two families per continent. Each curving their land as they saw fit.
Asia was divided into two countries. One was ruled by the shinryukai dynasty. This mighty country was called the Ryujinkai (Realm of the dragon Gods).
this country was divided into 4 regions, each ruled by a warlord under the shinryukai dynasty. Each region was then split into 6 sectors. For a total of 24 sectors in total.
Ash lived in sector-7 in the eastern region with his ill sister.
Note: In order to control and manage the peace of the country, the underground cage fight association was introduced to keep the overly aggressive super-humans in check. Though illegal it is funded by nobles, run by the 4 warlords and sold to the rich and twisted.
Its a colosseum of civilised society that pretends it out grew bloodsport.