Station, стр. 64
Within a few minutes, the group came upon a sizeablemakeshift coliseum, crafted from discarded timber, and filled inwith loose concrete. Although wide, with a large circumference, thearena wasn't very high, rising maybe thirty feet above the ground.There was only one entrance to the coliseum, a simple gap in theconstruction that had an ugly gate made of bones that was nowpulled to the side. Risers poured through the hole, hooting andhollering, seemingly having made good use of the hour ofpreparation.
Every Riser that Hadder saw had some kind of extremecombat Elevation - spiked knuckles here, a blade replacing aforearm there. Each wore scars from numerous battles, and allwalked with the swagger of those who were confident in theirability to come out on top in physical confrontations. What theylacked in discipline and military precision, The Krown's army madeup for in numbers, hatred, and a passion for bloodletting. If itcame to open battle, Hadder questioned if Ego Rounds could hold upto The Krown's disciples. And if Ego Rounds fell, the remainder ofStation was in grave danger.
Hadder finally reached the entrance gap and waswelcomed by the decomposing bodies of two fallen Risers, onehanging on each side. Both had been up there for a while, with ribbones peeking through strips of falling skin and chunks of fleshmissing, perhaps meals for some lucky scavenger. The corpses hadbeen posed on their perches, arms swinging towards the gate toinvite participant and spectator alike, zombie ringmasterswelcoming everyone to a circus of death. To the right of theentrance, a large wooden sign had been nailed to the outer wall. Ina shaky hand, three words had been written in blood, which haddried to a dark stain - The Meat Show.
"Last week's Meat, Setter," said one of the Riserguards to Hadder, drawing his attention back to the bodies. "Iwonder how you'll look up there?"
"I'll make sure you look good, handsome boy," afemale guard chimed in. "I'll pop that dick of yours out, carrionfor the birds." All the Risers had a good laugh at that one.
As they passed through the gate and into thecoliseum, Cal and Otho were pulled to the left, and all of theguards followed them save four who kept behind Hadder, guarding thegate, as he entered the arena. As he was about to step onto thesandy floor, a Riser poked his back with a metal staff. "Hey, Meat,can I have your shirt when you're dead?" The other three laughed atthe question but stopped abruptly when Hadder turned back, a coldlook in his eyes that chilled even their fiery hearts.
"No, you can't."
And with that, Hadder stepped onto the arena floor.It was supremely simple, with no obstacles or caches of weaponsstrewn about, just a sandy dirt floor that allowed for little interms of sophisticated strategy. Large lights sat at the edges ofthe arena floor that, when coupled with the four spotlights thatsat atop the coliseum wall, illuminated the show for all to see.The crowd of Risers roared as Hadder became clear to all, theircollective noise rattling Hadder's eardrums and almost bringingtears to his eyes. Looking around, Hadder was surprised by thesheer number of Risers that The Krown had under his command. Whenall of his forces were assembled as they were here, Hadder couldnot deny that they were an impressive bunch.
To his left, Hadder could see The Krown sitting inwhat would be equal to box seats situated at the lowest level onthe fifty-yard line. Concubines draped over him, The Krown satcomfortably, drinking from a horned goblet, waiting as if to see amovie to which he already knew the ending. On the other end of thearena, Skeelis paced back and forth, occasionally clasping handswith excited Risers in the crowd. Hadder supposed himself to be theaway team.
A tiny man in a dirty orange tuxedo took the centerof the arena to much fanfare. No more than four feet in height, thesmall man looked out of place in the Rising, where the meekcertainly did not inherit the earth. A metal box gleamed at histhroat, and three small horn speakers jutted out from his oversizedhead, one above each ear and another in the back. The Risers calledout in unison, "Vizzano," and the man bowed in appreciation. Helifted his short arms into the air, sending the crowd into afrenzy, before dropping them and ushering in complete silence.
"My lovely Risers, how delicious it is to be joinedhere today." A giant's voice boomed from the diminutive man,multiplied many times over by the mechanism at his throat, andthundered into the air by his permanent head speakers. "How luckyare we, to serve The Krown, a just and noble king who knows whathis people want. Nay! What his people need!" The crowd flared up,only to go quiet again. "On this beautiful Haela, under the IdolMoon, our benevolent king has put together, for our viewingpleasure, the resolution of a dispute between two men. One a fellowRiser, who shares in our dream of a fallen city. And the other, acowardly Setter, whose name will be forgotten before it's evenwhispered on the lips of those who will mourn him.
"This will be a one-on-one affair, a fight of thepurest sort, with no tricks or tomfoolery afoot. Hand-to-hand,that's what we like here, with nothing more than the man and hiscombat Elevations to prove his worth." Vizzano turned to faceHadder before continuing his speech. "And for those of us withoutcombat Elevations, please kiss the reaper on your way out." Riserscried out in laughter, pointing at the fool who failed to evenbring a knife to a gunfight. Vizzano faced the crowd once more,sucked in air for final delivery. "A fight! To the death! Twoengaged in combat! One will leave as a man! The other will exit asMeat! My lovely Risers, I give you…The Meat Show!"
Super Bowls aren't this loud, thought Hadder as hewatched Vizzano take another bow before stepping out of the arena,reappearing in The Krown's box seating, where he was promptly givena drink and a