The sun gleamed dimly through the thick cloud layer up above, casting a grey light over the forsaken city. Igneous looked out at this somberly, it was his first time at ground level in weeks, and he was going to a fight to the death. The guards shoved him roughly, although Igneous was now aware that the guns they held were most likely unloaded, and if they were it was most definitely with only one or two rounds. No one could afford ammunition, a single shot would cost them a lifetime of saving. Igneous figured that firearms were a symbol of authority more than anything, as it seemed only guards bothered with them.
The streets were quiet, but not empty, people walked by, avoiding looking at their convoy for too long. You learned not to make trouble when trouble was as plentiful as it was in the city. Every alley or side street they passed was riddled with makeshift shelters, and occasionally a face could be seen peeking out, but they always hid when they saw him. Igneous didn’t blame them. His arms had been bound together in a huge stone mold, no doubt made personally for him, and combined with his armed escort he must have been an intimidating sight. Thinking of his bounds, Igneous wiggled his hands and flexed his arms, testing the sturdiness of them. His master had seen him in burnout, so obviously he had been pressed to think of something heat resistant to bind him, and that they probably were, but he doubted they would survive getting slammed against the street. His goal wasn’t escape though, not then. He had promised his friends that he would not leave without them, and that was a promise he planned to keep. Soon he could recognize the sound of a roaring crowd in the distance, and grimly recalled what it was that he was going to do. His friend’s advice echoed in his head.
“You’ll have to kill them, you know.” Argos had warned him, as if reading his mind. “You aren’t doing anyone any favors by sparing them.”
Igneous remembered the conversation bitterly, but he had made peace with the reality of the situation. There was no surrender in the arena. You either won, or you died.
In the distance a huge building stood out. Its walls were curved, and it was at least three stories high.
A sports arena. Of course. He thought as it began to loom before them, but they didn’t enter through the main entrance. Instead they entered a conspicuous door at the side. More hallways, more shoving, and the roar reached a fever pitch as Igneous was left in a makeshift cage, with iron bars the way he came, and blast doors going out to the arena.
“You ready, kid?”
Igneous turned to the hulking bull behind him.
“No. But there’s no avoiding it.” Igneous replied casually as Aurochs removed the heavy armlock. “Any idea who I’m up against?”
The huge head swung back and forth.
“No idea, I’m afraid. Nothing easy, I’ll tell you that. This is way too high profile for any small fries to show up. Vatias thinks you’re invincible, so he’s got a lot of credits on you.”
“No pressure, right?”
“Well not really. I mean, if you lose it's not like you’ll be alive to feel the repercussions.”
“Thats very comforting.”
Aurochs laughed his booming laugh.
“Not really my specialty. Just kill whatever it is that they throw at you.”
“I suppose that works.” Igneous replied, slightly cheered. The behemoth lumbered off with a nod.
The opposite gate soon opened and Igneous strode out onto the dirt circle, overwhelmed by the roar of the crowd. There were far more people than Igneous would have thought, a couple thousand, at least. Igneous had expected an announcer or something, but obviously this wasn’t so formal. It was a show of blood, nothing else. In the middle, as expected, there was a weapon rack. Igneous didn’t know how to use any of them, but he saw a strange figure sifting around in front of it. It had to be his opponent. There weren’t any bells here, if your opponent loitered you could feel free to kill them with their back turned. But there was no way he could sneak up on it in this wide open space. So Igneous walked in its direction, guard up, studying the figure intently.
From his distance it was clear that it was very tall, and disturbingly gaunt. Its pale skin was exposed on nearly its entirety, save for a single cloth in between its legs. Its face, not visible,was turned away in complete ignorance of Igneous’ slow approach. It just stood, motionless, two glints of metal extending from each hand.
Igneous ground his teeth and clenched his hands as he approached at a steady pace, the stress of the situation mounting.. He began heating up his core, pumping it through his extremities, and venting it in streams of heat vapor. He had found in his training that this calmed him down, and got him more ready to go thermal when he needed to. He would need to, of course, as he didn’t know how to use any weapons, a fatal lack of skill in a fight to the death.
Igneous froze as the creature’s head turned suddenly to him, bending its neck in such a way that made his skin crawl. Its eyes, mere slits, appeared to be a solid black underneath, lending to its unnatural visage. Those eyes began to open slowly, almost lazily, revealing the black abyss underneath. Everything in Igneous’ mind screamed for him to run as it opened its mouth, producing a sickening gurgle.
Immediately it closed the distance between them, a movement that Igneous could not follow, the cold black eyes suddenly right in front of him. He couldn’t even react as one of the blades it held whistled through the air and cut into his torso.
The crowd roared. Igneous could feel a stabbing pain in his side which he was sure was some kind of deep wound, but it failed to concern him in that moment. The pain had snapped him out of the trance, and had sharpened his mind. This is not human. He thought to himself. Show no mercy. Igneous flew forward, digging his shoes into the dirt ground. One deep breath filled his lungs as he plunged towards the monster. With one arm he punched, pumping energy to his skin, hardening it and venting superheated air. This time with his adrenaline pumping through his body, he saw it move, bending forward and around just past his arm, skimming its back just along the bottom of the blow. Quickly it was seared by the immense heat Igneous was churning out, and it flinched with scream of pain. Igneous grinned, planting his left foot firmly on the ground and jerked his right shin up, delivering a sinister hardened kick to its gut. The blow, sunk deep into its stomach as its inertia held it in place for a moment, producing a volley satisfying cracks that could be nothing other than that of broken ribs.
In the moment the creature lay on the ground, Igneous realized the sensation of blood running down his leg, and turned to see that in their first exchange the creature had opened up a large gash in his side. He winced as he cauterized it shut with his hand, the smell of burnt flesh aggravating his nostrils, and then looked back to his presumably still living opponent. It had regained composure and stood watching him silently, its black eyes betraying nothing of its mind. Igneous knew, however, that it was resizing him, working out a strategy against the opponent who had just so thoroughly bested it. But it would be given no quarter, no time to think, as Igneous flung himself back into the fray, another burning fist readied. He swung, but met open air as the creature dodge gracefully, careful to keep its distance from the searing heat. It returned with a deadly stab towards Igneous’ throat, which he swatted away like a annoyance, closing the distance between them. At such close range those swords would be useless, Igneous thought, just as a sword hilt greeted him ruthlessly in the face.
He leapt back, the taste of blood filling his mouth, but his opponent stayed on him, using the increase in range to deliver a flurry of sword blows. Igneous barely dodged the first, fatigued, but succeeded in grabbing the second with one superheated hand, and bent it before he was savagely kicked away. The gaunt creature looked down at its now useless sword, and tossed it away. Its eyes still betrayed nothing, but if there was a time for it to be angry, that was it.
Igneous panted heavily as the creature stared him down. It showed no signs of being bothered by the broken ribs it had been given earlier, nor did it seem to feel the blistering burns in various regions that had strayed too close.
Igneous was not so unaffected, he was repeatedly spitting blood from the blow to his face, which had swelled to the point where his left eye was failing him. The cauterized wound on his left side itched violently and throbbed with pain when he stressed it. Igneous had kept up with his enemy to that point, dealing more damage than he took, but he was losing in the long run. His opponent showed no sign of slowing, but he had very little fight left in him. It was all or nothing. Kill, or be killed.
This is what went through his head as Igneous threw himself at the creature, emanating heat from every pore in his body, dangerously close to losing himself to full burnout. His senses were even sharper, and the attempts the creature made to oppose him seemed feeble and slow. He slammed his body into it, anchoring himself by digging his fingers into its shoulder and arm. He was going to smother it, envelope it in heat so hot and so inescapable that it would be left as nothing but ashes. More and more heat emptied from his body as the scent of burning hair and flesh became more offensive. His grip on his mind was nearly lost, and the only thought that he could hold onto was to maintain his grip.
Then he was loose, suddenly and without warning. He was lighter, too light to be accompanied by another body, as he crashed to the ground. Igneous looked down and saw, withered and blackened by the heat, an entire arm and shoulder. He collapsed, his eyes looking sideways at the figure that stood a ways from him, covering its face with one good hand. The creature was blackened and charred all down its left side, a dent left where it had ripped its shoulder from the joint. It was shivering violently, the damage that had been done seemed to finally be hitting.
And then suddenly it stopped, regaining its unnatural composure once again. It slowly lowered its hand from its face, revealing the blackened empty socket where its eye had been. Penetrating through the charred black were patches of bright white, bits of skeleton that the flesh had fully melted off of. An angry gurgle came from its ruined face as it reached down and retrieved its remaining sword with its good arm. It lurched, one of its legs badly burnt, towards Igneous, laying helplessly on the ground. He was utterly spent. He struggled to even draw breath into his lungs and keep his eyes open. It was the end, he realized, there was no way that this could go where he survived.
The creature looked down at Igneous, still showing nothing in its one good eye. It kicked him onto his back with its one good leg, and Igneous felt cold steel resting on his mouth. He looked up and saw the sword point above him, but that no longer concerned him. The creature was looking to the crowd, thousands of people all stunned speechless, it was making sure that they would witness its victory. Igneous understood. He had maimed it irreparably, and so it would at least make sure that his death was as drawn out and shameful as it could be. Apparently satisfied, the creature got down on the ground next to him, the sword still held just inside Igneous’ open mouth, and looked down at him with its one good eye. Igneous might have imagined it, but in that black, formless abyss, he sensed that there was nothing but hate, and he did not blame it.
Time slowed as Igneous felt the piece of cold hard steel enter his mouth and edge toward his throat. It was small enough to not scrape against the sides, and it touched flat against his tongue. It may have been his overwhelming fatigue, but Igneous was at peace with this fate. Slowly, he closed his eyes. And then the voice echoed in his head.
“Think of Nova, you fool!”
His eyes burst open as he was filled with a surge of energy. The sword was nearly touching the back of his throat, so frantically, for no other reason than desperation, he did something that made no sense at all. He bit down. He ripped the steel from its body, and the taste of metal enveloped his mouth. Then he looked straight into that eyes, straight into that cold, black, horrible eye...

..and spit bright orange molten steel right into its one good eye.