The Holy Coliseum appeared in the void between realms, forming itself from layers of ancient light and forgotten matter. The vast arena hovered in an endless black, its colossal ring of star-forged glass glowing powerfully like the first breath of an active supervolcano.
Twelve pale moons circled it in slow, solemn orbits, each one carving a perfect curve through the quiet darkness. The gods seated upon their floating crystal thrones watched the space with unreadable expressions.
Their seats were lined up against the wall of the dome covering the colossal ring.
Truth was, the holy coliseum had never been used in a long, long time since the last war. This was because before a battle would be worthy to be fought in the coliseum, the true god must have approved of it himself.
The last battle fought in the coliseum was between the angel Uriel and the prince of Persia.
Exactly. That long ago.
