The siren dropped low enough to rattle teeth.
Panels in the center of the arena slid apart again. A lift rose from the dark, carrying the same cage. Shapes moved behind the bars - bigger, heavier.
The host's voice tried to stay cheerful.
"Neoshima, administrative surpriss! Class Four. Please secure your expectations... And your limbs."
The bars dropped with a sharp sound.
The things inside stepped out.
They were still vaguely human, but wrong in all the ways. Shoulders were wide and covered in dark, bone-like plates. Their spines were ridged. Some forearms were just thick cleavers or blunt hammers. Heavy cords of muscle wrapped their legs, like cables built for leaping and smashing.
The floor shook as the platform lowered again, sealing the danger inside.
The crowd roared.
Then parts of it went quiet.
A boy in a yellow-blinking suit sprinted at the closest Class 4 with a spear held low.
The Nyx barely slowed.
