The arena didn't pretend to be fair. It pretended to be unforgettable.
For the first time in almost a year, Raizen could see the sky.
The same thick cloud layers sat overhead, gray and heavy, the sky Raizen could remember existing all his life. What little sunlight made it through came out thin and pale, barely enough to notice, but it was there. Real. Above him.
He hadn't understood how much the Underworks had taken that from him until now. Down there, "above" stopped meaning sky and started meaning pipes, the Tangle, lamps that barely even had a glow to them. Months of breathing oil and rust. Up here the air tasted like stone, stainless steel and something faint he couldn't quite name, his lungs noticing the difference before his mind did.
He stood in the candidate line and let it settle. He thought, briefly, of Takeshi's letter. Of Obi's forge. Of Kori's voice, flat and certain: You're ready.
He didn't know if any of them were right.
