This is only part of my "The Last Tournament" (more to come)

[iamneo19]

The large circular arena, resting at the base of the large bowl of the high-tech coliseum, housed an atmosphere that echoed almost anything such as a pin dropping on the reflective surface of the floor. The clean, hard black floor flawlessly mimicked anything above it, reflecting even the light bouncing off of the blade of a long sword. The large sliding doors that opened to beckon me into the arena were no different.
The mechanical locks clanked loose, releasing the air for the pistons to pull the large bulkhead panels apart. The high-pressure vacuum encouraged a large gust of wind to shove its way out the new opening, forcing me to reaffirm my balance for only an instant. My black cloak swayed behind me in the artificial breeze of the arena’s conditioning.
My gaze first struck the surroundings rather than the variety of colorful, decorated warriors. The stands were dimly lit. It accommodated the spectators with a better view of the spotlighted arena floor. The radiant light bore down to reveal the challenger’s entrance, where I stood, and also to the point where the battleground met its walls. The light being so brilliant and illuminating, it polluted any man’s vision of who might be sitting in the stands watching them. It comforted me. I didn’t need to know who was watching me. No one knew me here, anyways.
I then looked to my soon-to-be oppressors. Due to his bright red cape draping over his back, and being the first to notice me, this warrior caught my immediate attention. His facial features implied that he was younger than I was. His dark brownish hair and light complexion looked fresh, and the way he stood like a nonchalant teenager encouraged me to question “A kid as fresh looking and prestigious as that…in an arena where the loser is anything but alive? This is probably his first, and last tournament.â€