|This article, Gladiator, was written by IndyRevolution. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.|
The blows rang out throughout the coliseum. Like lightning, they struck out over the crowd, which responded with cheers and jeers, forming their own riotous thunder. The two combatants raged against each other, the larger one swinging wildly at the smaller one as it dodged and weaved, striking blows where he could, when he could, however he could.
The larger creature began to stumble. Its blows became more sluggish, more obvious, more telegraphed, while the smaller one remained precise, accurate, and hit hard where it could. This continued for several more minutes, flailing and screaming and striking and dodging, both combatants at their strength’s end. Finally, a cry echoed out, silencing the stadium.
The Goliath stumbled forward, attempting to keep its grip. Orange blood poured out, staining the sand below. Lekgolo worms fell down, squirming on the ground, being crushed underneath their host as it stumbled forward. The creature raised a hand forward, reaching forward for its opponent, desperately trying to grasp it, strangle it, crush it. The Sanghelli simply stood in its place, unmoving, energy sword drawn. Its face was bloodied, its armor was broken, but it stood still. The Goliath let out a single more moan, almost pleading in nature, and then finally fell, collapsing into the dirt, still.
There was silence for a several seconds, as the crowd tried to comprehend what had happened. Then, they cheered. All at once, standing up, standing up and cheering for the victor, the thunder resuming tenfold. The Sanghelli raised his sword, basking in the praise, as a voice over loudspeakers announced him as a winner.
All his life had led to this. He had been training since he was a child, fighting creatures his mother had captured in the fields. The ways of the coliseum were life here. Every male trained to fight, hoping to gain glory. Few received it. Hako had been different, however. He had fought, slogged, been beaten into the dirt and humiliated, mocked, spat on, but he would always get back up. He would keep moving, biting, punching, stabbing, until his opponent fell at his feet.
Over and over, they fell. Hako would become known as unmatchable, his stamina endless. He would learn to shrug off both bribes and assassination attempts, keeping his mind set on a singular goal- reaching the end of the Coliseum. Facing the creature known as the Unkillable.
And there it lay. It had been his hardest fight yet, and he could feel wounds all around his body, and yet...it hadn't been enough. The crowd still cheered him, deafening applause, but he couldn't derive any satisfaction from it. Hako sighed under his breath, keeping his hands raised for the crowd. He needed more when there was none.
His mother walked out, leading him back into the stadium. The sound of the crowd faded away.
Sometime later, she spoke to him, placing a device in his hands.
“I know you. You are unsatisfied.”
She motioned down to the device in his hands.
The picture showed four armored figures with their weapons drawn. Their armor was olive green, with gold visors.
His mother read off the device in her hand. “The Domain offers a reward to anyone who can capture the Spartans of Blue Team. Take the one known as John-117 alive. Taking the other ones alive is unnecessary, but preferred. Just as long as The Master Chief is alive and unharmed. The Spartans are enhanced with extreme genetic augmentations and MARK VII MJONLIR Armor. They are hyper-lethal. You will likely not survive combat with them. If you succeed, the reward is anything you so desire.”
His mother smiled at him, lowering the device.
“Ready for a hunt?”
Hako smiled, raising his sword.
“I have been ready for all of my life.”