Red warning beacons flashed across the subterranean staging corridors beneath the Grand Transit Depot as automated klaxons wailed with piercing intensity.
Two dozen armored municipal enforcers surrounded the private preparation chamber where Nox was reviewing match logs.
"Commander Nox, you are required to remain in this holding suite for an administrative equipment audit," the lead enforcer announced through a mechanical loudspeaker.
"The tournament committee detected irregular mana signatures on your shadow daggers."
"An administrative audit?" Nox asked coldly, standing before the reinforced blast door with arms crossed over his chest.
"Or is the municipal director panicking after losing half a million credits on round one?"
"You will comply with tournament officials, or your entire faction will be disqualified!" the enforcer barked, raising his shock rifle.
