They turned a corner. The hall here dipped slightly, lit in deeper blue, spell light bouncing off metal pipes overhead. A soft hum ran through the floor. Generator buzz. Field stabilizers kicking into sync with the arena glyphs.
Gen pushed open a heavy door marked CAGE SUPPORT – STAFF and stepped aside.
"Home sweet home."
Lucen stepped in.
The room was plain. One bench. One mirror. One water bottle already sweating from the chill glyph nearby. No branding. No emblems. Just a prep box and a screen panel looping crowd footage from outside.
Lucen glanced at it once.
Hundreds.
Already packed.
The camera feed swept over signs, fans in cheap hoodies, people chanting. Half didn't even know his name. They just wanted blood.
Gen set his cup down on the bench.
"Want me to go over the rules again?"
Lucen unzipped his coat. "You mean the rules we both know I'm going to ignore?"
Gen gave a crooked grin. "Exactly."
Lucen folded the coat, set it on the bench, and sat down beside it.
