Zarek's vision cleared and he found himself heavily restricted. The air was heavy, breathing was difficult, and taking a step felt like he was stuck in quicksand, his legs marred by a pasty energy that seemed to want to latch onto him and never let go.
However, when he looked around, there was nothing odd about the world around him at all—well, other than the scent of blood in the air and the arena of ancient stone he stood on.
The circular platform of grey and black etched stone was large, being what must have been at least 200 meters from one edge, across its diameter, to the other. However, the bounds beyond it were like a vast chasm of nothingness, an endless black that extended into infinity without any sign of slowing or stopping.
There was nothing else beyond this.
At the moment, Zarek stood on an elevated pillar. Well, a short one that was only about three feet off the ground. To his right, there were three more, and to his left, there were four.
