Morning did not so much arrive at the Imperial Championship Arena as it erupted.
The first light of dawn barely touched the uppermost edges of the colossal structure before the noise began swelling again, louder than it had been the previous day, heavier, denser, layered with expectation that bordered on desperation. If the opening ceremony had been spectacle—carefully crafted, dazzling, theatrical—then today was something far more honest, far more brutal.
Today was where illusion ended.
Today was where strength would either stand or shatter.
