The leather armor wasn't much—stiff, creaky, already patched in places—but Drake had tossed it their way like he was doing them a favor. Matt adjusted the straps on his chest, trying not to look like he was constantly glancing at Kai.
Kai was quieter than usual, head bowed, blinking more often like he was trying to clear fog from his thoughts. His awareness came in pulses—moments where his gaze sharpened, only to dull again when the weight of withdrawal tugged him back under. Matt had seen soldiers in this state before. Chained by something inside them, not shackles outside.
The Azura arena had its rules. Duos were permitted up to floor fifteen, after that it was solitary bouts. Matt had figured that out the hard way when Drake laid it out. The knowledge didn't sit well. Kai barely seemed capable of standing steady, let alone holding his own once the floors forced separation.
Drake, leaning against the barred gate that led into the waiting corridors, clapped his hands like a man about to watch dogs fight. "You two ready for the starting matches? I got money on you, so don't die."
He grinned like it was all a game, like their lives were a dice roll he'd already pocketed.
Matt glanced at Kai again. His friend raised his head slightly, pupils a little too wide, lips twitching toward words he didn't speak.
Matt swallowed. "We'll make it through."
But he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince—Drake, Kai, or himself.
The door to Room 7 creaked open, spilling torchlight into the cramped waiting chamber. The handler motioned them forward with a jerk of his chin.
Matt rose first, adjusting the stiff leather straps across his chest. The armor bit at the crook of his shoulders with every movement, but he ignored it. His eyes flicked to Kai, who was slower to stand. The younger man's motions were hesitant, like he was only half certain his body still belonged to him.
The corridor outside was narrow, its walls stone-slick with moisture, lit by torches fixed in iron brackets. The air carried a heavy mix of blood, sweat, and the acrid tang of cheap oil. Matt had smelled worse, but not often.
They walked in silence at first, boots scuffing against the packed dirt floor. Ahead, the passage curved downward, carrying them deeper toward the sub-levels. The noise of the arena filtered faintly through the stone—cheering, laughter, the dull thud of a gong calling matches to order. Each step seemed to draw them closer to it, like gravity pulling them into the center of a storm.
Kai blinked more than once, each time longer than the last, as though he was fighting the urge to drift away. His lips moved silently, maybe whispering to someone Matt couldn't hear, maybe just to himself.
"You holding up?" Matt muttered, keeping his voice low so the handler wouldn't hear.
Kai glanced at him, pupils wide, mouth quirking in the faintest trace of a smile. "Mm. Walking." His tone was flat, but at least it was an answer.
The corridor widened into a stretch lined with heavy doors, each marked with faded numbers and scratches. Other fighters were being led out of them, pairs and trios funneling into the same downward slope. Some looked eager, grinning at the noise that grew with every step; others were pale, lips pressed tight, already resigned.
Matt kept his hand close to Kai's shoulder, steady without drawing attention. The crowd's roar surged as another gate opened somewhere below, the sound muffled by the stone, then cut short with a sharp, collective gasp. A body hit the ground—he could hear it even from here.
The handler glanced back at them, grinning as though sharing some private joke. "Don't lag. The pit's hungry tonight."
They descended a final set of stairs. The torchlight deepened into a heavy orange glow, shadows crawling across the stone. The smell grew stronger, iron-rich and cloying. The sub-level floor waited ahead, a heavy gate separating them from the arena proper.
Matt felt Kai stiffen beside him, his head lifting a fraction, eyes narrowing in brief, sharp focus. For one heartbeat, his awareness cut through the haze. He looked at Matt and whispered, "We're close."
Then the gate began to rise.