Ultimate Monster Battle Arena Season XXXVI Sixth Round Battles

“Fans of the Arena - welcome to this round's most exciting heavyweight bonanza… Basilica versus Thorn!” The commentator waits for the cries of delight from the crowd to die down. “It has to be said, Basilica's not looking too good today, folks! Do you think the punishing Championship fight regime is finally getting to this behemoth of brick?”

It's true: Basilica looks awful. Its temples are crumbling as it staggers into the Arena, dropping stones and carvings as it goes. Its legs appear to sag under the weight of its architecture. Worst of all, there is a gigantic rent running straight through its body.

Thorn, on the other hand, looks fighting fit. As the commentator announces its name, it rears back and SCREEEEEEEEs, much to the delight of the crowd.

“Is this the end of the Champion road for Basilica? Or does it still have a few tricks up its gargantuan, stony sleeve? Let's find out! Fight begin!”

Basilica lumbers forward, but stumbles, shedding a few pieces of paving. Thorn, meanwhile, is preparing to strike. It whirls its spiny limbs menacingly as it advances.

Then, in a moment that will be documented in a thousand fanworks to come - it strikes.

One spiked tentacle lodges painfully in Basilica's wound. Basilica cries out, rearing its stony head back, as Thorn screams in triumph. More lashing, lethal limbs start battering its armour.

And then Basilica… cracks.

The crowd's cheers fade to a hush. With a sickening crunch, the split in Basilica widens, and the Monster sends out panicked keens. A tentacle pulls - potentially in an effort to extricate itself. Then, a few agonising seconds later, the two halves of the gigantic, insectoid temple come crashing to the Arena floor. Even Thorn lurches back in alarm.

Basilica is dead.

The turn-out for Mesh’s series of trials is huge, almost as high as the turn-out for a standard Monster battle. Seems like a lot of citizens have caught wind of this situation and want to see how it’s resolved. The Arena is set up as it was during Mesh’s previous case against everybody allegedly involved with the assault on Metrovore: two boxes have been assembled at either end of the pit with portable Archaeotech vocal enhancers provided in both. As Mesh arrives, he’s ushered into one of the two boxes to the sound of booing from the audience.

Morose Progress, Yarn and Strike are gathered at the other end in a small huddle. After a brief discussion, Yarn nods to the other two and takes to the stand, while Progress and Strike take a seat in the front row. The Commentator for the event rings a bell and clears her throat.

“Citizens of Bastion, we are gathered here to witness a series of three legal cases brought against Mesh! We will start with Round One, for which the prosecution’s claim is: “I DON’T NEED TO PAY MY FINE!”

---

===ROUND ONE: “I DON’T NEED TO PAY MY FINE!”===

“Yarn, if you would summarise the claim for the audience?” the Commentator asks.

Yarn nods and takes up their vocal enhancer.

“On behalf of Morose Progress, Pennythrift Steeple, Leda Atomica, Thistle, Todo List, [BA- sorry, The Artist Formerly Known as [BAD STAR], Sprocket, Crash, Saffron, Arch, Angler, Dr Frost, Suture, Strike, Trend, Ash Moon, Malbec, Paradigm, Chaser, Gintrap, and Dynamite–” they pause for breath. “–I will be making the claim that the fine demanded from all parties for the postponed KRYSTALKORPION vs METROVORE battle was wrongly issued and should henceforth be considered void.”

“Thank you, Yarn! Morose Progress, I understand that you would like to give testimony?”

Morose Progress steps into the Arena, taking the vocal enhancer offered by Yarn as he walks past the prosecutor’s stand.

“Fellow citizens. The discussion of whether or not Mesh ought to own Metrovore in the first place is scheduled to be covered in greater depth later, but I believe that we can still provide substantial evidence in favour of Yarn’s claim. Mesh’s suit against us was not conducted properly; of the defendants in attendance today, which of us can claim that we were properly informed of the suit in advance of our trial?”

There’s silence from the audience.

“The witness is making intentionally misleading statements!” shouts Mesh from his stand. “Of the defendants in attendance, which of you did not receive adequate warning?”

Strike and Morose Progress glance at each other, then both raise their hands. A couple of very distant shouts from the audience are quickly drowned out by Mesh, who points at Strike and Progress.

“You see?” he says. “Only two recorded statements of failure to receive that information! Why, I’m sure this can be chalked down to a slip-up within the postal service.”

“Of the–” Yarn counts on their fingers for a moment, “–twenty-two others that I am representing, I am quite certain that none of them received any kind of prior warning!”

Junior Executive Ada calls from the audience: “If these individuals that you represent have not submitted a formal statement, we cannot accept that claim as factual!”

Progress looks frustrated by this. “Alright, enough! I’d also like to comment that Mesh would never have been able to enter Metrovore into the Arena in the first place–”

“We’ve already covered this!” calls Mesh. “How do you know that Metrovore can’t–”

“–can’t shrink?” interrupts Progress. “Because I’m a qualified Monsterologist, and I say it can’t! I would like to point the court to my recently published meta-analysis on Monster healthcare, which makes reference to my observations of Metrovore and clearly states that this particular Monster is both too slow and too large to have been able to enter the Arena on time!”

“SHOW ME THE PEER REVIEW, YOU FRAUD!”

“ENOUGH!” shouts the Commentator. “Legitimate scientific evidence is unprecedented in cases like this, but if a Monsterologist says it, it must be true. Mesh, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Mesh frowns. “Ignoring the clear conflict of interest inherent in the witness’s study of Metrovore, I’d like to present the possibility that Metrovore only became too slow to reach the Arena after being mercilessly attacked. I assure you all that I was extremely confident that Metrovore would have been able to enter the Arena, and if Creative Branch disagrees…”

Max Entropy cups their hands around their mouth. “THERE HAS BEEN NO OFFICIAL CONDEMNATION FROM CREATIVE BRANCH!”

“…Creative Branch apparently does not disagree. Which means that the blame for the postponement of KRYSTALKORPION vs METROVORE falls with those who prevented Metrovore from reaching Bastion, as summarised in my previous case.”

“It was going to destroy the city!” shouts Progress.

“It was walking at a leisurely pace to its scheduled Arena battle.”

“It threatened us! We all heard it!”

Mesh snorts. “Everyone knows Monsters can’t talk! Should we reconsider your authority as a qualified Monsterologist?”

“Strike is a Monster and he’s been speaking to us from the beginning!”

“Can you prove Yarn isn’t just a really talented ventriloquist?”

“At the very least,” says Morose Progress, “Progress & Steeple would like to inform you all that the Beetle Circus did not directly attack Metrovore or contribute to the literature-based assault led by [BAD STAR] – they simply carried out a regular, scheduled circus performance which Metrovore rudely interrupted without even purchasing a ticket! We have a right to perform where we wish, and any claims that we were attempting to disrupt Arena scheduling are merely slander!”

There’s a great cheer from the Beetle Circus Fans in the audience. Ada stands up, adjusting her glasses. “I cannot allow this. The actions of yours and Mr. Steeple’s Monsters have already been ruled to have contributed to the postponement of KRYSTALKORPION vs METROVORE. Not only have you caused significant disruption to Creative functioning–” Max Entropy nods vigorously, “–but you are now attempting to destabilise Finance Branch with your attempts to avoid paying a perfectly reasonable fine. This isn’t about you; this is about the Network. You must pay.”

Morose opens his mouth to argue, but the Commentator strikes the bell. “With that decisive comment from Junior Executive Ada, this court rules in favour of the defendant. The fines will not be overturned!”

There is uproar from the crowd, which clamours over another ringing of the bell and a shout of “COURT ADJOURNED!”

As the Commentator announces “ROUND 2: “THAT’S NOT YOUR MONSTER!”, Strike takes to the stand with Yarn and Morose Progress. He looks across at Mesh with a combination of trepidation and disgust. Mesh stares coolly back.

---

===ROUND 2: “THAT’S NOT YOUR MONSTER!”===

“I would like to make the claim that the true Trainer of Metrovore is not in fact Mesh, but Strike!” announces Yarn. “The basis of this claim is as follows: Strike is the only individual who has displayed any kind of control over Metrovore’s activities. He was the original owner of the Archaeotech Globe linked to Metrovore, he was the one who activated Metrovore in the first place, and he was, as far as we know, the one who deactivated Metrovore. While Mesh may have had the right to enter Metrovore in an Arena battle, he should not be considered to be Metrovore’s Trainer!”

“Can you prove any of these claims?”

“Actually,” says Yarn, “we can. Strike was witnessed receiving the Globe live on the Money Pit, and we have statements in writing from Salt and Wound (of respected business Salt & Wound) that Strike was the one present when Metrovore was activated. And The Artist Formerly Known as [BAD STAR] should be able to confirm that Strike deactivated Metrovore!”

“Is this true, Strike?” asks the Commentator. Strike nods and gives full testimony of his interactions with Metrovore, from its activation during a Salt & Wound expedition, to his injury-related inability to stop Mesh from claiming ownership during the League Conference when Metrovore’s approach was announced, to his provision of crucial schematics during the assault on the Monster. The audience nods along as he speaks, clearly convinced.

Mesh takes up his own vocal enhancer. “This all may be true, but you can’t prove that Metrovore wasn’t sold to me! Think about it: isn’t it suspicious that Strike has taken this long to confront me about the ownership of Metrovore? This is all a scheme by Strike to extort even more money out of me, and to avoid paying his own debts to the Network!”

Progress shakes his head. “That’s a nice theory, but you can’t really prove that Strike doesn’t own Metrovore with stories.”

“Evidence, then!” says Mesh. “The Network will be able to confirm that I have legal ground for my ownership claim. Why don’t you talk to the Secretary who took my payments?”

Yarn cuts in: “That Secretary is currently unavailable for questioning and will not be able to submit evidence. Admit it: you have no way to defend yourself!”

As the Commentator reaches for the bell, Mesh shakes his head. “Yarn… what happened? I thought we were working together on this! I mean, are you going to deny that you’ve been helping me from the beginning?”

Progress and Strike turn to stare at Yarn, who tilts their head and looks blankly across the Arena at Mesh.

“Sorry, I… I don’t understand. Are you talking about back when we were allies… maybe even friends? Back before…” Yarn’s voice shakes a little, and they take a moment to emotionally compose themself. “Back before I saw you for what you really are?”

The audience collectively sighs in sympathy for the Rules Lawyer. The Commentator seems convinced by this conclusion and taps the bell. “That’s enough! I see a strong enough case for Strike being named as Metrovore’s true Trainer! While Mesh was within his rights to enter Metrovore for a fight in Strike’s absence and the fees therefore will not be overturned… I declare that all overdue fees are now owed to Strike rather than Mesh. This concludes Round Two!”

When Mesh re-enters the Arena he’s accompanied by Strike, who is keeping a tight grip on his shoulder. He’s pushed towards his box and Strike silently heads over to Yarn’s with a grim look on his face. The Commentator looks up from the crossword she had been completing between rounds.

“Is there a problem, Strike?”

Strike takes Yarn’s vocal enhancer.

“Mesh just tried to murder me.”

---

===ROUND THREE: “MESH JUST TRIED TO MURDER ME (BECAUSE HE’S A SERIAL KILLER)”===

The bell is enthusiastically rung for Round Three. The Commentator gasps. “Surely not! What happened?”

“Well,” Strike says bluntly, “I went to the bathroom, and Mesh tried to kill me.”

“I just want to say this now,” calls Mesh. “That’s a blatant lie and Strike should be ashamed of himself. I would never do such a thing!”

“Mesh, you were looming over me with your razor blades out.”

“Razor blades? What razor blades? You’re welcome to search me if you like! I’m positive I lost my portable Monster grooming kit somewhere before the trial…”

“You dropped them in the corridor after you tried to kill me!” says Strike indignantly.

“Ah, but can you prove that? Because – look at my face! Look at my wrist! Doesn’t it look like I was the one attacked? And not a scratch on Strike!”

Yarn scoffs. “Can’t even manage to kill a single Monster right. You’re losing your touch, Mesh.”

Bright steps down from her seat in the stands and marches into the court. “Listen, is no one else seeing how obvious it is that Mesh is a fucking serial killer? He killed Cinder, he killed Canon, he killed Block, he tried to kill Nocturne, and now he’s trying to kill Strike!”

Mesh looks deeply affronted. “What motive would I have for that?! Surely if I were a murderer, which I assure you I’m not, I would be targeting my rivals in the Monster fashion world? You know, the likes of [BAD STAR] or Zephyr! And have either of them died? No.”

Bright grits her teeth. “Slit throats. Razor blades. It doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure out the connection there. Who cares about motive? Maybe you just like killing.”

“As I’ve already told you, detective, a lot of people own razor blades. It seems a little unfair to pin all of this on me when all I’ve done with those blades is provide affordable grooming services for the people of Bastion.”

There’s a slight cheer from Max Entropy, who as a Creative employee clearly approves of this service.

Yarn shrugs. “Seems kind of suspicious that you offer those services so cheaply, doesn’t it? Although,” they add with a grin, “I guess charging more than a couple of Kyat for half-assed work like yours would be a real crime.”

The Commentator clears her throat. “Alright, no more bickering. Yarn, apparently you have a couple of witnesses?”

Yarn nods. “I’d like to call Nocturne to the stand!”

Nocturne shuffles their way along the front row and enters the Arena. Mesh looks thoroughly unintimidated by this development.

“Nocturne, is it true that the defendant attacked you outside The Bunker?”

“That’s right. I was minding my own business when I was attacked by somebody in a mask wielding razor blades. The defendant, as far as I can tell, is around the same height with the same build. I’m confident it was him.”

Mesh sighs. “Yarn, Bright… really, this is pathetic. You’re bringing out a witness who allegedly saw this happen at The Bunker? A club? A club which serves alcohol? The witness was clearly intoxicated at the time, and I’m sure that this explains their confusion. And anyway, much like Strike, do you see a single scratch on Nocturne? Meanwhile, I–an innocent bystander to all of this–was shot in the leg! If anything, I should be building a case against them!”

The Commentator looks torn. “So, you were a bystander?”

“Yes,” Mesh says. “I was simply walking past The Bunker when I saw Nocturne holding a gun of all things. I suppose I must have startled them, and in their intoxication they opened fire. I went home immediately to treat my injury… and the next thing I know, I’m the one being accused of assault!”

“Hm…” the Commentator says, “I suppose if there’s no evidence that Mesh attacked Nocturne, we can’t rule that out. And having reviewed evidence for the other murders that Mesh stands accused of committing, I don’t think he can be convincingly tied to any of them.”

“OBJECTION!” cries Yarn. “I would like to call a surprise second witness to the stand! Please welcome none other than GIANT BLOCK OF WOOD!”

The Monster is carried into the Arena and deposited on the ground. Yarn steps down from their stand and approaches it. “Witness, if you have reason to believe that Mesh is a murderer, please indicate this to us.”

A tendril of sawdust extends from the wooden box and twists violently through the air.

“Well, that proves nothing,” says Mesh. “Maybe you just trained it to wave when it’s spoken to!”

“Witness, if you have reason to believe that Mesh is not a murderer, please indicate this to us.”

The tendril retracts into the box almost too quickly for the movement to be caught.

The Commentator shakes her head. “As entertaining as this is, I’m afraid that when it comes to accusations as serious as murder, testimony from Monsters cannot be accepte–”

“AHA!” shouts Mesh. “In which case, all testimony offered by Strike in this trial should be considered invalid!”

Bright clenches her fist, advancing towards Mesh. “Strike knows what he’s talking about; you can’t just get out of trying to kill him that easily!”

“But he’s a Monster. Is this what the courts of Bastion come down to? Evidence from Monsters? Audience, I implore you not to allow this farce to go on any longer. There is no concrete evidence against me, and I would like these outrageous claims to be officially dropped.”

Bright, Yarn, Morose Progress and Strike all begin objecting at once, but the Commentator interrupts with a final clang of the bell. “Mesh is correct that no satisfactory evidence has been presented. Round Three goes to Mesh, who is awarded our sincere apologies for the trouble!”

Mesh smiles and steps down from the stand with a polite nod to the Commentator before swiftly making an exit.

Bright chases after him, followed by Strike, Yarn and Morose Progress. Several minutes later, as all reports go, a gunshot was heard and Mesh’s body was found dead outside the Arena, surrounded by bloodthirsty patrons.

Strangely enough, eyewitness accounts were remarkably inconsistent.

“Aha, it's the famous BEETLE CIRCUS, by ringmasters PROGRESS & STEEPLE! Have they made any, ahem, progress since they last appeared together? Look at those moustaches - either they coordinated, or they're embarrassingly similar. Beautiful blue cloak Steeple is wearing though, and it's embroidered with P&S. Let's hope that that's an olive branch. Aaanyway, here are the circus performers: it's that horrifying canvas cocoon of fun and laughter, THE TENT! Plus those speeedy, speeeeedy fellas, the Rollerpedes!

“On the opposite side, it's TEAM DOOOOOMSTORM! It's all been a bit up and down for this team…

“COMMENCE!”

THE TENT jumps on the Rollerpedes - or the Rollerpedes jump under THE TENT - and the duo speed towards Team Doomstorm. The first spew of toxic waste is evaded by TOOTHSOME ROCKET, whilst Spikeby launches several strikes of sharp metal at the Rollerpedes, who are too small and fast to hit.

As Doomigator swings round, THE TENT suddenly fades into the background.

“LOOK AT THAT! THE TENT pulls off it's CAMO-TENT manoeuvre again… but what's this? The colours are back, Doomigator is facing THE TENT, but those flashes… those flashes… tha fluhfluh ughrgh…”

The commentator trails off. The audience goes wild: those areas of the stands that were facing THE TENT as its lamp eyes started spinning, spinning, spinning those colours and spirals, are transfixed. They are hushed, staring, some of them drooling.

The Umpire takes over.

“We've heard from Steeple himself that that move is called HYPNO-EYES. Terrifying indeed… Whilst that part of the audience recover, I'd like to start the countdown, since both Monsters are transfixed…. TEN! VICTORY TO BEETLE CIRCUS! …. Would somebody kindly throw some water over the commentator, she's still not come to…”

“Roll up, folks - come and see the latest Doubles Match: Team Cat Fight versus Team Shards Falling! Of course, with Krystalkorpion still MIA, it'll be interesting to see how Thorn tackles this one: this Monster is no stranger to fighting one-on-two, but it remains to be seen whether it can scrape a win! Meanwhile, Jaws of Defeat is looking fluffier and even more many-headed than usual! Slime Kitty has puddled itself into an adorable pile of goo! How will it fare for Thorn's terrifyingly cute opposition?”

Thistle, sat right near the commentator, appears to be yawning.

“What a thrillingly blase attitude in the face of danger! But folks - what's this? Thorn appears to be carrying some kind of banner!”

Thorn is indeed delicately holding a banner between two of its many tentacles.

“It looks like… a hand-drawn Maximum Taste's Monster House advert? What a creative way to win points! But wait a second - what exactly does that slogan say…?”

Painted on the banner is indeed a simulacrum of the Monster House logo. However, the image of Max Taste's face next to it is not the usual drawing. Max appears to be a far uglier caricature of himself: long, greasy hair slicked back with enough gel that it gleams; mouth gaping in a grotesque grin; Riel signs in the place of eyes. Meanwhile, the slogan reads: MONSTER HOUSE: FAKE MEAT; AUTHENTIC HEARTBREAK!

The crowd, upon realising what is written on the sign, begins to boo. At large, that is. The commentator certainly does all they can to stir them up. “Shocking, ain't it, folks? Seriously poor form, to say the least!”

However, at the edge of the audience, a fair portion of people are cheering - and their cheers are getting louder by the second.

“Max Taste breaks hearts!” yells a Fan. “Crabgristle forever!”

“Now, people, let's focus on the fight here!” says the commentator, in an attempt to reel it back in. “And, with that in mind: let the fight begin!”

Thorn, seemingly forgetting why it is holding a banner in the first place, and desiring to be rid of the nuisance, uses its long limbs to push the paper into Jaws of Defeat's faces. It then proceeds to batter it with several more spiked appendages. Meanwhile, the small, malleable Slime Kitty attempts to wrap itself around the spines. Thorn, enormous as it is, barely seems to register this.

Still, the audience's attention doesn't remain on the fight for long. “Wha - no, give me that! That's mine! I have to tell everyone that Jaws of Defeat is beginning to bat at Thorn's tentacles with its adorable paws -!”

After a brief tussle, Thistle seems to have snatched the amplification device from the commentator. Nursing a sore hand, they turn their back on her in pique.

Thistle taps at the device, testing. “Do you like breakups?” she asks the crowd - a bright, cheery smile fixed on her face.

(“No-one likes breakups!” replies one of the Fans, in anguished perplexity.)

“Ever wanted to… star in your own?”

(“Nobody wants that!”)

“Well, wow do we have the treat for you! Come to Monster House, the ships' graveyard where love goes to die, and they'll rip the romance right out of your life!”

In the meantime, Thorn has used its spiked vines to lop off a couple of Jaws of Defeat's heads. The bloodied necks dance grotesquely amongst the remaining ones. Slime Kitty, on the other hand, has succeeded in forming a kind of gelled covering over a couple of the uglier-looking spines, but to little avail; there are too many remaining limbs to rob Thorn of its deadliness.

“But, what am I thinking of?” continues Thistle, as the commentator mutters bitterly but unintelligibly in the background. “There is one ship that Monster House promotes! In fact, you could pretty much call it the ultimate ship! Naturally, all of you know what I'm talking about…”

Right on cue, a row of soberly-dressed Fans at the front of the crowd immediately remove their jackets. Underneath are bright T-shirts, each depicting the same thing: the same crude caricature of Maximum Taste, only this time surrounded by love hearts and kissing a large stack of Riel.

“Fans of the Arena, I give you the greatest ship to come out of Monster House - a relationship that will never die! That's right - I'm talking about Max Taste x Riel!”

“Max Taste hates love!” chant Thistle's Fans at the front of the Arena. “Max Taste hates love!”

Jaws of Defeat staggers to the side of the Arena, battered and weak. Meanwhile, Thorn attempts to extricate Slime Kitty from its limbs, as one might attempt to remove chewing gum from one's hair.

“Although,” continues Thistle, still amplified, “now that I think about it, there is a rival ship. Max Taste x Riel is great and all, but do you wanna know my OTP?”

(“I love OTPs!” cries the same Fan from before.)

“Of course Maximum Taste is in love with money. But, the real ship here is, I think, folks, equally obvious. Make some noise if you think the ultimate Monster House ship is Max Taste x His Own Grotesquely Inflated Ego!”

At this point, she has won most of the crowd - if only for the sake of giving them something to shout about. And shout they do indeed: the boos are still present, but the majority of them cheer.

“Seriously,” says Thistle. “How is he, like, everywhere right now? I've heard of public displays of affection, but this is ridiculous!”

Slime Kitty bounces out of the way of Thorn's lashing vines. It hastily reforms into ring shape as one of them goes straight through it. However, its shapes seem to have a little less integrity than before, and its goo appears heavily scratched. Jaws of Defeat, now missing a couple more heads, bites haplessly at the vines.

“I mean, arguably we've made more fanworks for this ship than for literally anything else in history. Have you seen some of those posters? You almost definitely have - they're papered across the entire city like sticky weed. Be grateful: know that, in surrendering vast quantities of cash to Maximum Taste, you are doing so in the name of love! After all - what could be more pure or delightful than the love of a man for his own ego?”

Thorn has finally succeeded in shaking off Slime Kitty. Triumphantly, it batters it into the ground - though its limbs keep getting stuck in the goo. Another of its spiked vines wraps itself around Jaws of Defeat's neck.

“So what if Max Taste causes every other couple in the city to break up?” asks Thistle, cheerily. “So what if Monster House is a soul-sucking, love-poisoning, money-glutting machine? At least Max is happy!”

Thorn succeeds in tearing off the last of Jaws of Defeat's heads.

“Oh, would you look at that - my Monster's won! Don't forget to visit Monster House after the match - for the breakup experience you'll never forget!”

“You,” comes the wheezed voice of the commentator, as they fumble for the amplification device, “are losing so many Max Taste points…!”

—

“Welcome, one and all, to some MONSTER MASHING MAYHEM. Tonight's match is what you all came to see, an Alpha division Heavyweight match - the best of the best!. First in is one of this season's favourites and a monster in every sense of the word, Blade's badass bruiser, DAAAAARK STEEEEEEL!”

The crowd hushes for a moment, and the opposite doors slide open to reveal pitch blackness, and a layer of fog rolls out. Then lights come on to reveal Dark Steel, glinting in a spotlight. The crowd begins screaming and cheering as he steps forwards and out into the fog, which swirls around his legs. Blade looks on, with a smile on his face, bathing in the audience adulation.

“And its challenger is the surprise darling of this season, Socket's segmented slitherer, SERPENNNTIIIICONNNNN!”

The crowd heats up further as Serpenticon winds through the gap of the opening Arena doors even before they're fully open. It looks agitated; once inside it coils and uncoils in unceasing motion, as Socket waves to the crowd. It splays its blades and the crowd cheers, and makes to dive towards Dark Steel.

”…AND WE'RE OFF, FOLKS!” The announcer is caught off guard by Serpenticon's lunge and the referee calls the start of the fight.

Serpenticon starts thrashing around, lunging aggressively at Dark Steel, who dashes smartly out of the way each time. One particularly vicious lunge seems certain to connect, but Dark Steel just manages to SHADOW STEP out of the way and Serpenticon coils like a spring up against the Arena wall, before bouncing right back.

“Serpenticon giving Dark Steel absolutely no chances to get anything done early in the fight - the metal snake all rage and no subtlety right now. But can it keep up the aggression?”

Winding back and around as Dark Steel backs up and tries to get some space, Serpenticon speeds forward with hitherto unseen speed and lunges.

“And there's the DARK GLARE! Maybe this will buy Dark Steel the time he n- wait… WAIT!”

Serpenticon initially seems caught in the Dark Glare, but thrashes about, slamming its metal segments against the Arena floor, before thrashing forward and completing its lunge. Dark Steel ducks and rolls with surprising speed, barely deflecting the slash of blades.

“Well I have no idea what has gotten into Serpenticon, but this is a first! It managed to break out of DARK GLARE! And it's going for broke, like there's nothing left to lose! At this rate it'll end up doing more damage to the Arena and itself than its opponent!”

Dark Steel recovers and makes up some distance again. This time Serpenticon takes a little longer to recover from its aggressive lunge, and Blade takes no time to step in.

“Okay Dark Steel, it's time! For DARKER STEEL!”

The crowd collectively holds their breath as Dark Steel executes what appears to be a brand new special move. The shadows in the corners of the Arena where the decorations obscure the floodlights begin to coalesce and take form, and within few seconds not one but seven Dark Steels appear around the Arena, advancing inwards. The crowd goes wild.

“I'm not sure what's going on, but I LOVE it! SEVEN DARK STEELS? This is intense!”

Each of the Dark Steels step forward in unison, and begin charging GIGASLASH. Serpenticon barrels through Dark Steel after Dark Steel, dissipating them into shadows and revealing the deception, but doesn't seem to be able to find the real one.

Then with a sonic boom that blows dust across the Arena, one of the Dark Steels unleashes a colossal GIGASLASH that scythes across the Arena and slams into Serpenticon's midsection, neatly carving a chunk out of the metal monster. Serpenticon screeches a metallic cry of rage and pain and begins to thrash around. Its tail slams into the reinforced wall of the south stands and the crowd screams as they are thrown off their feet.

“Looks like Serpenticon is on its last… legs? But somehow it's not stopping! How is it able to endure such punishment? We've never seen anything like this from Serpenticon before!”

Dark Steel begins charging another slash. Serpenticon appears to have completely lost the plot, thrashing randomly and colliding again with the wall. Socket shouts down at Serpenticon but it's clear that they've long since lost control of the monster. They beg the referee to stop the fight, but it's too late. Dark Steel unleashes another GIGASLASH, and blows through a join of cabling and mechanisms, neatly bisecting the monster. The two halves continue to thrash for a short time, before going still. The crowd cheers and jeers in equal measure, as Blade bows.

“And that's the count! DARK STEEL WINS! And another notch on its list of opponents outright killed! Can ANYTHING challenge this monster?”

“WEEEEELCOME to this extraordinary Lightweight Match in ALPHA DIVISION between Arena Elite CHASER and newbie sensation TATTERS!” coos the Commentator, with the Arena crowds delightedly cheering for their favourites. Omega is visible in the Arena as a tiny blue haired figure, her signature DEATH SCYTHE in hand, in one corner, and in the other sits Deathbreath: as pink and bouncy as ever with its big sad eyes looking around at the fans, all chanting a mixture of “OMEGA!” and “DEATHBREATH!” with equal glee.

“This is truly a fight for the history books,” continues the Commentator, “since this is the first Alpha division fight ever fought by a Monster that… er… has attended League Conferences! Is that how we're saying this? Sure! Why not? Anyway, yes, Omega has yet to be defeated in her rise up the ranks, but Deathbreath has stayed consistently in Alpha and Beta division, so let's see what happens when these two Monsters clash: ARE YOU READY FOR THIS, BASTION CITY?”

The crowd cheers approval, “LET BATTLE COMMENCE!”

Deathbreath immediately bounces its way to the centre of the Arena where it can get most easy rotation to keep an eye on the faster Omega. Omega advances, but carefully, strafing to keep Deathbreath on its toes. The Monster, freshly recovered from its recent theft, keeps its big sad eyes on Omega, bouncing back a little when Omega steps forward, bouncing forward a little to force Omega to step back. Omega knows very well what Deathbreath's toxins can do, and Deathbreath knows very well what Omega's Death Scythe can do, and so a game of grandmother's footsteps begins, with neither willing to advance on the other while they're looking.

Eventually, Deathbreath's large eyes start to wander, and it seems to get distracted looking around the Arena. Perhaps it's looking for something to get the advantage over Omega on, but that moment of lapsed concentration seems to prove Deathbreath's fatal mistake. The commentator says nothing, but the crowd wonder if a better trained Monster wouldn't let its concentration lapse as Omega runs up behind Deathbreath, Death Scythe in hand, and-

Deathbreath snaps around, and with an audible “paaaaah” of breath launches a full lungful of its signature Death Breath into Omega's face. Usually this would take 30 seconds to incapacitate a Monster, but Omega is flat on her face in seconds. The crowd are stunned and go absolutely wild for Deathbreath, cheering for Chaser and her fantastic - and surprise - victory!

The two monsters circle each other. MonoChrome prances; swimsuit waving from his horns; soft, fluffy fur bouncing. Diamon dashes around him, crystalline body glinting with violet flame.

Diamon darts in, leaps in the air, lashing out with a sharp-tipped diamond paw at MonoChrome's face as it passes. The sheep pivots neatly, turning its head away and catching the blow instead on the fleece of his shoulder.

Diamon's paw sinks in, slicing through the fleece, which falls away in swathes. MonoChrome dances away as his fleece sheds, revealing glistening black tar over a skeletal body. There is cheering from the stands for both monsters.

MonoChrome lowers his head and charges. Diamon dodges, avoiding the full force of the strike, though a crystal at the tip of its tail, slightly too slow to get out of the way, shatters under the force of MonoChrome's charge.

Diamon yowls and charges in again, slicing at MonoChrome's flanks. The tar sticks and clings to the crystal, blunting its cutting force. As the two monsters lock together, the flickering violet light burning inside Diamon glints and glisters off the gleaming black of MonoChrome's tarry form.

(In the audience, several fans start planning fanart)

Diamon struggles to pull free, but MonoChrome's tar holds it tight, and all its struggling does is coat it further in tar; while MonoChrome kicks out at it. Tar smears over Diamon's face as it bites and scrabbles, and it's clearly struggling to breathe as more and more of it is coated in tar.

Its inner fire flickers, the violet light growing fainter, and Diamon goes limp, transparent form dulling as its internal light gutters to struggling embers.

“What a spectacular comeback for Doomigator! There's that atomic boom we've all been waiting for! The killer jaws wrenching Annihilatron's limbs from it. Thunderzilla may be gone, as may Block and Tackle, rest them, but it seems Doomigator has finally settled into a new home with Shocktrap!”

The Arena is a forest of vicious spikes - patches springing up from the ground, with clear routes winding between them, and equally menacing spiked obstacles: bollards, walls and platforms dotted around the arena. Occasional bursts of coloured flame flicker out from strategically placed burners, glinting off the gleaming spikes. It's very metal.

Hard as Nails picks its way carefully into the fray, lunging and weaving as it traces a clear path across the Arena towards its opponent. Dozer, meanwhile, lumbers stolidly forward, the light of the flame jets reflecting from its metallic armour. When its hulking form stomps over spikes, they simply bend flat.

Dozer lowers its head, and charges forwards at Hard as Nails. The ground shakes slightly with the force of its thundering charge, and it lets out a thunderous bellow as it advances. Hard as Nails dodges, throwing itself out of the way. As it does so, though, its woven body snags on a spiked bollard, and a handful of threads are torn free.

Dozer charges again; Hard as Nails still managing to keep ahead of it - this time, though, in an attempt to avoid both spikes and Dozer, the sock stumbles into a jet of green flame. The frayed fabric where the spikes ripped into it catch immediately, and Hard as Nails' attention immediately leaves its opponent as it freezes, drops to the floor, and rolls around to extinguish the fire.

Rolling across an Arena floor littered with spikes, however, isn't kind to a monster made of fabric, and Hard as Nails is quickly caught as spikes impale it. Dozer lunges in to bite at its downed foe, and Hard as Nails forces itself up to dodge, with a horrible tearing noise as it rips itself free.

Hard as Nails shrieks as it flees, Dozer charges yet again. Hard as Nails, finally, turns and stands its ground, too angry to run any more. The lizard rushes forward. Dozer bellows. Hard as Nails leaps; wrapping its body around Dozer's head. Blinded and confused, Dozer cannot arrest its own momentum, and both Monsters crash to the ground, rolling through the spikes in a huge ball of limbs, fabric, metal, and frayed thread. Finally, they come to a stop against a wall; Hard as Nails' ragged form wrapped firmly around Dozer's head, covering its eyes, mouth, and nostrils. Dozer thrashes violently; Hard as Nails only tightens its suffocating grip.

Gradually, Dozer's struggles grow weaker, until it finally lies still.

The Umpire counts down.

“Ten seconds! Victory to Hard as Nails!”

With the fight over, and trainers and technicians allowed into the Arena, Blanket rushes over to his Monster. He coaxes Hard as Nails into unwrapping itself from Dozer's head. Then, in what seems to be an attempt to distract the recalcitrant sock from making a lunge at an Arena technician who's got too close, Blanket waves up at the stands, gestures to Hard as Nails, and murmurs a command.

Hard as Nails breaks into a breakdancing routine; drawing gasps and enthusiastic cheering from the audience.

Meanwhile, Dozer staggers blearily to its feet, looks around, and apparently decides that it's had enough excitement for one day, groaning and lying back down for a nap.

Hard as Nails frayed and tattered body swinging surprisingly athletically through a short series of increasingly ambitious moves, and then, suddenly, collapses to the floor.

There's an intake of breath from the crowd, and a flurry of activity below as Blanket waves several technicians over to help him support his injured and exhausted Monster out of the Arena.

“And the crowd goes wild with adoration for all those Miniature Giant Lizards as they chase Slime Kitty around the Arena in perfect unison. Just look at 'em go! Who's a good hundred boys?”

“Oh, where in the world could Gearbox be? This is the second battle in a row that Dashboard has had to forfeit… how unfortunate for Morose Progress and his Rollerpedes that they won't get to fight! Still, it looks like the Rollerpedes are determined to put on another good show! Look at all of those flashy colours! The precision as they ascend the beetle tower! Sure, it's exactly the same as last round's half time show, but at least it's something!”

“HONOURED STAKEHOLDERS! IT'S TIME FOR ANOTHER DOUBLE TEAM FIGHT!”

The crowd is packed into the stands and is cheering vehemently.

“Your competitors tonight, with the monsters you've all come here to see: Crash and Blade, with their monsters MECHAGRAVITON and DARK STEEL - together, they are HEAVY METAL!”

The crowd bursts into more cheering, as the Arena doors open and pushing out through a veritable forest of banners for Max Taste's Monster House, Dark Steel and MechaGraviton take their positions, with Dark Steel sporting some kind of bag strapped to his back and a Max Taste Monster House branded shield. MechaGraviton meanwhile has a giant M logo painted on its wings as well as painted horns.

“We've heard a lot of talk from Blade and Crash about how their opponents are going to get taken down so easily they can style it out. But nobody is going to count them out just yet; after all this season they've even taken down the once-mighty Doomstorm! It is my very great pleasure to introduce to you: their opponents, Crabgrass and Tornado, with their monsters TYRAXACOR and HURRICANE - together they are TEAM HORIZON!”

Tyraxacor and Hurricane get less of a cheer, but then Team Horizon unveil a new addition - a full band stood in the stands, who begin a swelling bout of intro music as their monsters enter the Arena. The crowd are clearly into it, and the band settles down into a steady beat as both teams get ready to start the fight.

“And it looks like we're ready to go! It's going to be a blistering fight, honoured stakeholders, so hold on to your seats as we get ready to see DARKNESS FALL or watch as the sun rises above a NEW HORIZON!”

The fight starts slowly. MechaGraviton picks up height as Dark Steel advances on Tyraxacore, looking to close in close combat but only moving in time with the beat.

“Do we have DISCO CRAB somewhere in the Arena? These four monsters look like they're choreographed! It's quite the spectacle though, look at Dark Steel go, getting in repeated slashes at the end of each riff!”

MechaGraviton keeps Tyraxacore pushed down and unable to strike back at Dark Steel while throwing in the occasional Wing Attack!; the two trainers have clearly decided which of their opponents to focus on first. However, this means that Hurricane has a bit more free reign. It hovers menacingly, attempting to strike MechaGraviton with arced lightning bolts which MechaGraviton is doing its level best to dodge.

Dodge though it tries, one bolt gets through and hits the lumbering mechanical dragon causing it to stutter and plummet towards the ground, only barely catching itself before impacting.

Seeing this turn of events, the band pick up tempo and in the crescendo Dark Steel suddenly changes tactic, using SHADOW STEP to teleport directly into the path of a lightning bolt aimed to finish off the struggling MechaGraviton. As electricity surges around the bladed figure and earths itself into the metal grid of the Arena flooring, the floodlights flicker and cast moody shadows across the Arena.

Crash and Blade exchange glances. Mechagraviton won't be able to take another hit like that, so it's time to go for the combo move now. At the height of the crescendo, Dark Steel buys more time for MechaGraviton by flurrying low-powered GIGASLASHes across the Arena, causing Tyraxacore and Hurricane to dodge and take cover. Meanwhile, MechaGraviton pulls itself together for just long enough to gather some strength, and Dark Steel rises into the air.

“Look out Horizon, because this looks like DARKNESS IS FALLING!”

Dark Steel slams groundwards almost as punctuation to the end of the crescendo, directly on top of Tyraxacore.

“Oh and that's got to hurt! Tyraxacore there taking a DIRECT HIT from Heavy Metal's special combo move. Looks like it's barely able to move, it might be out of the fight already.”

Mechagraviton launches a flurry of projectiles at Hurricane from what looks like some sort of shoulder mounted grenade launcher as Dark Steel recovers from the impact. The retaliatory strike goes awry, though, as wind whips up and flings the grenades into the South Stands. Crash loses no time and shouts at MechaGraviton to stop them, and just before they detonate they are lifted barely out of range of large numbers of supporters.

“That was a close call, stakeholders! I'm hoping that Mechagraviton gets some style points for saving fans from those grenades so carelessly deflected!”

Hurricane decides to press its advantage and gets in another couple of lightning strikes before Dark Steel can intervene and act as a lightning rod. MechaGraviton slumps to the ground, clearly suffering still from the electric attack - it's not out, but it's not doing much. Dark Steel faces down his opponent as the guitar solo begins.

What follows is an exceptional ballet of slashes, bursting down Hurricane and forcing the cloud further and further back in time with the beat. The metronome precision of the slashes makes them easy enough to dodge, but Hurricane is rapidly running out of room to retreat.

The solo reaches its climax and Dark Steel stands stock still, charging an attack. Hurricane takes the opportunity to unleash the last of its power, and a huge lightning bolt arcs out and earths itself in Dark Steel. The Arena lighting flickers and goes out.

“There go the lights! Bear with us, honoured stakeholders, we'll try to get them back on for you as soon as we-”

There is the sound of tearing and a boom, a slash cutting through the air at incredible speed. The crowd cheers - they recognise the sound of a GIGASLASH when they hear one. Almost on cue, the lights come back on and show a downed Hurricane, with Dark Steel standing triumphant before it, sheathing his sword. The referee begins the count.

“That's both Tyraxacore and Hurricane down and out, looks like hope isn't going to dawn for Team Horizon. Honoured stakeholders: I give you your winners - TEAM HEAVY METAL!”

Dark Steel reaches into his bag and draws out a cluster of papers - pamphlets for Max Taste's Monster House. He throws them high into the air, and with the last of its strength MechaGraviton boosts them into a flurry, where they rain like confetti down onto the stands. The crowd cheers, dancing in paper falling like snow.

“And yes, I'm getting an update now, that's a substantial number of both style points for both teams, and an impressive amount of Max Taste points for Heavy Metal! They've really gone all out with the promotional materials, and why not! Maximum effort for Max Taste in the Arena tonight! And yes, I do believe - this now puts Team Heavy Metal back on top of the Double Team championship standings!”

“Grey seems to be predicting Jaws's every move, for each one of its heads, its truly remarkable. What's more remarkable is the sheer array of Archaeotech weapons she's deploying…”

The Arena is dressed as a rugged wilderness scene today; the ground littered with rocks and rubble, which make Luminous Point's entrance necessarily slow and cautious as it picks its way over the scree. The crowd nevertheless cheers uproariously as Luminous Point enters the Arena - most of them are Pluck's fans, waving banners and dressed in bright colours, emulating their idol. The response to Black Diamond is more subdued: a monster that seems to do most of its fighting …somewhere else? Or invisibly? There's been a lot of fannish debate about that over the last few rounds - isn't exactly a crowd-pleaser.

Black Diamond hovers, somehow managing to loom despite its tiny size. Luminous Point stares at it. Black Diamond's red light glints off its opponent's sparkling armour.

Black Diamond blinks closer. Luminous Point shifts its gaze, staring at…the ground. Neither monster seems to be making any immediate attempt to engage - Luminous Point takes a step every nine seconds, but doesn't shift its gaze. Black Diamond pops in and out of existence, gradually moving closer to Luminous Point, though it seems cautious. Perhaps it, too, isn't quite sure what its opponent is up to. Then, there's a faint crackling as an empty void opens up in the ground where Luminous Point had been staring. Finally, something seems to be happening.

Luminous Point kicks a rock towards Black Diamond. Black Diamond pops out of existence, reappearing right in Luminous Point's face. There's a popping sound, as the air folds around them and both disappear.

The rock, passing through where Black Diamond had been, falls neatly into the void Luminous Point had created.

A few seconds pass.

Luminous Point and Black Diamond reappear. Luminous Point looks entirely unaffected, and begins once again staring at Black Diamond. This time its blank, empty stare looks distinctly unimpressed.

Black Diamond hovers, unmoving. It twitches slightly; the red light limning its edges dimming and flickering uncertainly.

Then, out of nowhere, chaos. Slivers of rock, shattered into twisting fractal patterns, burst out of the hole in the ground, spinning kaleidoscopically. They fill the air of the Arena in a dizzying cloud, then arrow for Black Diamond. Bombarded from all sides, the gem is batted from the air and lies, unmoving, buried in shards of rock.

Luminous Point shakes itself off with a tinkling like wind chimes, and strolls back towards its pen as its victory is announced.

The Arena is dressed as a rugged wilderness scene today; the ground littered with rocks and rubble, which make Luminous Point's entrance necessarily slow and cautious as it picks its way over the scree. The crowd nevertheless cheers uproariously as Luminous Point enters the Arena - most of them are Pluck's fans, waving banners and dressed in bright colours, emulating their idol. The response to KREEPIEKUBE is more subdued: a monster that seems to do most of its fighting …somewhere else? Or invisibly? There's been a lot of fannish debate about that over the last few rounds - isn't exactly a crowd-pleaser.

KREEPIEKUBE hovers, somehow managing to loom despite its tiny size. Luminous Point stares at it. KREEPIEKUBE's red light glints off its opponent's sparkling armour.

KREEPIEKUBE blinks closer. Luminous Point shifts its gaze, staring at…the ground. Neither monster seems to be making any immediate attempt to engage - Luminous Point takes a step every nine seconds, but doesn't shift its gaze. KREEPIEKUBE pops in and out of existence, gradually moving closer to Luminous Point, though it seems cautious. Perhaps it, too, isn't quite sure what its opponent is up to. Then, there's a faint crackling as an empty void opens up in the ground where Luminous Point had been staring. Finally, something seems to be happening.

Luminous Point kicks a rock towards KREEPIEKUBE. KREEPIEKUBE pops out of existence, reappearing right in Luminous Point's face. There's a popping sound, as the air folds around them and both disappear.

The rock, passing through where KREEPIEKUBE had been, falls neatly into the void Luminous Point had created.

A few seconds pass.

Luminous Point and KREEPIEKUBE reappear. Luminous Point looks entirely unaffected, and begins once again staring at KREEPIEKUBE. This time its blank, empty stare looks distinctly unimpressed.

KREEPIEKUBE hovers, unmoving. It twitches slightly; the red light limning its edges dimming and flickering uncertainly.

Then, out of nowhere, chaos. Slivers of rock, shattered into twisting fractal patterns, burst out of the hole in the ground, spinning kaleidoscopically. They fill the air of the Arena in a dizzying cloud, then arrow for KREEPIEKUBE. Bombarded from all sides, the gem is batted from the air and lies, unmoving, buried in shards of rock.

Luminous Point shakes itself off with a tinkling like wind chimes, and strolls back towards its pen as its victory is announced.

The commentator FlibbertiGibbet is ecstatic as Wreckatar and Mechagraviton enter. She lowers her voice for the quiet, purposeful flight of Mechagraviton, and gabbles as Wreckatar rolls into the Arena and dramatically unfurls.

There are two discrete pockets of fans in the stands. One group surrounds the Trainer Blanket. They cheer and whoop at Wreckatar's entrance, and in between battles they stare at Blanket in adoration. The other fans are wearing capes embroidered with P&S, sporting false magician-style moustaches, and waving sequined banners declaring BEETLE CIRCUS FANCLUB!

There's a huge domed cage with thick bars in the centre of the Arena. It nearly halves the surface area, and obviously will significantly limit the height that Mechagraviton can attain.

”Look, everyone! Look at that addition to Mechagraviton - that absolutely awesome cylinder mounted on its shoulder. If you can't see, those are six biiiig barrels! The fact it can carry something that size really shows off this absolute beast of a Monster's build and solidity that lend the HEAVY to the HEAVYWEIGHT and the METAL to the HEAVY METAL! Are they turret guns? Toxic spewers like Doomigator's? I'm super curious!“

“What is Wreckatar wearing? As well as that super cute blue cloak with CHALLENGER sewn on it, there's some chains around its body, and they're tying down some kind of rod.”

It's hard not to notice, given the shouting of the fans, that Pennythrift himself is wearing a matching blue cloak. His lengthy, twirling, gleaming black moustaches are making a reappearance.

“Cool! I also spy a pack on its back, kinda like something I've seen the Network sell, but I won't spoil it for you! And is that a Piece Of Archaeotech Superficially Similar To The Meltinator? Gosh, who can say! Ooooh, and it's going off…”

Mechagraviton, limited as it is by the space within the dome, easily evades the attack.

“Buuuut what is this? Wreckatar just launched something - maybe while we were all distracted - cleeever!”

A set of chains launches from Wreckatar's back, as the mechanism on Wreckatar's back fires into life ”— IT'S A JETPACK, EVERYONE! HOW GOOD AM I, NOT SPOILING IT FOR YOU!“ - and launches itself towards Mechagraviton.

The rod fixes in the air and holds fast. Wreckatar launches more chains at Mechagraviton, which, as they drape around the other Monster, are evidently nets.

“My sources tell me that the ringmaster Steeple himself calls this equipment the GRAPPLEGRAV!”

“And what is Wreckatar doing with those chains? Hang on, folks - the chains are shortening! Wreckatar is using them to swing around Mechagraviton - and right into it! And that rod isn't moving - Wreckatar has anchored itself! Wait for it…”

Wreckatar does indeed rocket around its opponent, wrapping it in chains, but Mechagraviton (whose skill at flying clearly outmatches Wreckatar's skill with its new jetpack) dives and flies too. Wreckatar is pulled back and forth in the air. The chains do shorten, though, and Wreckatar orbits helplessly around the larger Monster, and WUMPF.

The audience shrieks and moans as the yellowy-brown turquoise of Wreckatar's scales slams into the sheeny metal of Mechagraviton's armour. The shredded remnants of the blue cloak flutter away.

“And I've never narrated any battle like this, everyone! I'm so excited, I can't keep still! I'm so excited! I'm - oh-” there's a faint surprised eep through the speakers - “oh - I've - oh–”

Mechagraviton shakes at the chains, and the audience cheers as it uses WING ATTACK. The chains shake and snap.

Wreckatar falls down, and there's an intake of breath from the audience as they expect a thump, but instead, under the sand of the cage floor, something yellow is revealed. It trembles as Wreckatar hits it, and Wreckatar (and about a tonne of sand) bounces back up into the air. Mechagraviton floats further up. It regards its opponent as Wreckatar bounces again and again, keening and bruised, each bounce gradually losing height.

“Aaaand your new commentator is Unfiltered! Hello everyone! I'll be taking over momentarily while FlibbertiGibbet deals with an unexpected incident! Look at Wreckatar bounce! It doesn't have much life left in it, though - aaand that bounce must be helped by a GRAVITY SLAM - oooh yes, that's one helluva smack against the bars - aaand it may still be bouncing, but Wreckatar is unconscious!”

There's some confusion amongst the crowds, with the fans of Blanket and Steeple shouting loudly that Wreckatar is still moving. Mechagraviton floats back and forth at the top of the dome. Some Rules Lawyers invade the commentary box and start shouting Amendments that pertain to whether bouncing is a valid movement.

Suddenly, a roaring noise fills the Arena.

“Aaaah. Aaah, our curiosity is satisfied,” announced Unfiltered, “Oops, looks like Flibbertigibbet is super excited again, because that shoulder-mounted monstrosity is a grenade launcher. Oof, those are nice explosions!”

The grenades cause Wreckatar to rocket up to the dome's ceiling again, and reactivate the cycle of bouncing.

But, eventually, it ceases to bounce, and lies still.

“No further argument, folks - MECHAGRAVITON WINS!”

”…look I'm not sure why you showed up. Mesh vs Assorted Angry People isn't happening until next week, and I'm paid to be here. What you're doing here is anyone's guess, especially the part where you paid to be here, so don't look at me like that: it's not my fault…”

“The fact that there are people in the stands at all is astonishing. One can only assume they've come here to inspect the architecture because there is no way there's a fight happening today. Once again, neither KRYSTALKORPION nor METROVORE have shown up, so it looks like that fine is gonna keep on ticking up by double until one of them appears in the Arena…”

“Well, folks, fortunately this should be a quick one - remember, don't LOOK DIRECTLY AT THE MIGHT OPTIZORB…that is, ah, keep your eyes on Pork Scratchings. Unexciting as he may be.”

Pork Scratchings indeed performs his usual trick of walking in and lying calmly down.

Optizorb doesn't even bother looking at him, instead, fixing its gaze firmly on the trainer, standing on the sidelines.

The Umpire counts down.

“Hello folks, and it looks like we're in for an exceptional match today. While on paper this is an up-and-comer from Beta division challenging for a spot in Alpha, Pepper is one of the stronger monsters in the league and sure to give Murk a good run for its money - but of course, we hear that Noggin has been busy training and Murk is nothing to be sniffed at. I give you all… Murk!”

The Arena doors open to reveal Murk as Noggin waves to the crowd. However, he gets very little in the way of reaction and quite a lot of jeering. Peering out across the stands, almost the entirety of the Arena is filled with figures carrying stuffed Peppers, holding banners, or wearing t-shirts with various slogans written on them. One large banner reads “IMMOLATION NATION” and appears to the centre of a particularly boisterous facepainted section of Saffron supporters. Other t-shirts in the crowd read “BURN IT ALL DOWN”, “GOTTA GO FAST!”, and “WRECKING BALL”. Here and there a lone supporter with a Murk sign hides from the overwhelming crowds. One die-hard fan with a t-shirt cheers to disapproving stares, but doesn't seem to care.

“Okay folks, looks like we have a few irregularities here. Saffron has submitted a note, countersigned by Dr Frost, that says she's too ill to attend. But apparently according to the handling staff we have Pepper down and ready to go anyway, so it looks like we're ready to get started.”

“Objection!” shouts Noggin as the opposite Arena doors open. “A trainer surely has to be present when-”

He tails off as Saffron steps out of the Arena doors and onto the sandy floor. The crowd, instantly recognising her, goes absolutely wild.

“OBJECTION! That is clearly Saffron! This isn't a gladiator match!”

“I, uh, I mean it does look like her…” the commentator nods.

“Which means if Pepper isn't here, that's a forfeit. Of course,” he smiles smugly, “I'm sure if Saffron wants a gladiator match we can arrange one. AFTER she forfeits.”

“Hang on… hold on one second here, fight fans. What's this?”

The crowd continues cheering as Saffron waves up at them.

“I've just been handed a piece of paper, this appears to have been written by notorious rules lawyer Yarn… what does it say?”

“Objection! Yarn isn't even here!”

“It says… 'It is well known that Pepper is an evolving monster, as evidenced by her last Arena fight. As such, and supported by Amendment 4007, it is not possible to prove that the monster in the Arena currently is not in fact Pepper-'”

“Well this is obviously ludicrous. Look at her, she's shouting up at the crowd. Monsters can't talk, everyone knows that! And anyway, Amendment 4008, literally the one immediately after, says that monsters must be officially registered by their trainers with the Network if they evolve between matches. Saffron isn't here, and I know the Network hasn't received the registration because per Amendment 6511 I have not been informed of any such change to our match. This is just Yarn playing silly buggers, it's all nonsense. Anyone can see there's no way this is legal!”

“And it continues,” the announcer cuts back in, “saying '-but knowing that Noggin is almost certainly coming up with as many amendments as he can think of to try to disqualify the monster that is clearly Pepper and definitely not Saffron pretending to be her own monster, I instead move to let the crowd decide. Amendment 10,000. The Amendment championed by Noggin himself. If the fans declare it legal, the match can go ahead.' So… what do you think, fight fans?”

The crowd goes absolutely incandescent with cheering, and in short order the chant of “Fight! Fight! Fight!” starts to echo from the stands.

“Well there we have it, folks. And yes, the umpire is confirming now, Amendment 10,000 will be in effect on this one and the fight will go ahead. I suppose, on a very unusual technicality, I give you… Pepper?”

The crowd cheers once more as Saffron steps forward, waves up at Noggin, before facing Murk and looking determined.

“And… BEGIN!”

The fight formally begun, the crowd hushes to watch what Saffron will do first. She approaches cautiously, arms spread wide, while Murk, seemingly unsure what to do, simply paces around slowly.

“Well, it looks like Saf- sorry, Pepper is opening this up with the Square Peg Special tonight, fight fans! It looks like she's trying to calm Murk down!”

As she gets closer and catches Murk's attention, Saffron puts her crossbow carefully on the ground where Murk can see it, and gets back to her feet, arms still spread wide with palms outwards.

“Are those… monster treats? Yes, it looks like they are, fight fans! Saf- Pepper is offering Murk MONSTER TREATS! It doesn't look like there's going to be much fighting happening today!”

Murk seems extremely confused but delighted to be handed treats in the middle of the Arena, and allows Saffron to pet him. Noggin shouts down from the stands, trying to persuade Murk to ignore her, but it's clear that Saffron has the upper hand here.

The crowd cheers as Saffron persuades Murk to lie down by feeding it more treats. Noggin continues to shout down from the stands as the referee begins the count, but it's almost impossible to hear him over the sound of almost the entire crowd counting down the numbers as one.

“…SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!”

“And that's IT, fight fans! Murk has sat still for ten seconds, and is counted out. As the monster remaining in the match, PEPPER WINS!”

The crowd erupts in yet more cheers, and with the fight won Saffron's fans abandon any pretense as they begin chanting “SAFFRON! SAFFRON! SAFFRON!” while she saunters from the Arena, blowing a kiss to them as she goes.

“A 'man' with a knife and a 'man' with an axe walk into an Arena…”

The commentator is clearly trying for humour, though the laughter is scattered and a little forced. Maximus, expression blank as ever, marches forward, knife at the ready, stabbing at Strike. Strike dodges and parries, riposting with a mighty swing of his axe.

It grazes Maximus's shoulder, splitting it open to reveal red meat, but Maximus keeps coming, making a grab for Strike's arm with his free hand as the knife comes down. Strike wheels and dances away, more maneuverable if less powerful than Maximus, not letting his opponent get a grip on him.

The crowd is growing restive; mutterings spreading across the stands.

“What sort of Monster fight is this anyway?”

“If I wanted to see two guys go at each other, I can find a bar fight for free any night.”

“We paid for Monster-on-Monster! I'll take man on Monster, but this is just man on man…”

“Nah, not even that. Man on dog, shouldn't even be allowed.”

(“The heck you talking about?”

“You know Strike's a dog really. 'Werewolf' indeed…”

“Conspiracy theorist!”)

Down in the Arena itself, the combatants keep hacking away at each other. Maximus has barely landed a hit; forcing through Strike's guard only once - a thin trail of blood runs down Strike's left arm, but it's barely a graze.

Maximus, meanwhile, has been hit multiple times, the greater reach of Strike's axe, and his far superior grasp of tactics and technique outclassing the knife.

Maximus barely seems to notice his gaping wounds, though - he just keeps coming, even as Strike begins to get tired.

The crowd grows more and more disgruntled - not cohesive enough in their complaints to trigger a 10,000th Amendment intervention, but clearly unimpressed with the matchup.

Strike swings his axe, hard and fast, and it sinks sharply into Maximus's body, cutting him almost in two.

Maximus, finally, topples to the ground, defeated.

“Alright folks it's time for another double team extravaganza! One the one side, we have Team Slime - currently in joint third place with 9 points, Green Genie and Blue Lagoon!”

The doors to the arena open, and the leathery red form of Green Genie and the white fluffy bulk of Blue Lagoon come out onto the sands.

“And facing them, currently at the top of the double team tournament, a scant one point ahead of their nearest competition - Team Legit, Shrapnel and Longbow - who we have been informed has recently evolved!”

The door on the other side opens, and… Just Shrapnel walks out, with an ominous wall of green scales visible behind the small door. THere is some murmuring among the crowds as the next largest door is opened, and a single arm reaches out with a massive blade where the hand should be. After some scrambling from Maintenance, another door is opened, but this time all that fits through is Longbow's head, with a metallic beaked mouth full of razor sharp teeth, topped by a single, red, glowing eye. It screeches, and the walls buckle, as it is dragged backstage and to the largest door of the arena, the Volcanosaurus Memorial Door.

The stonework buckles as Longbow forces its way through, sending chunks of concrete smashing to the ground. It's easily the largest monster ever to enter the arena, taking up nearly half of the floor as it crawls out through the huge gateway, and then standing to its full height (with eagle-eyed fans and rules lawyers looking for a quick buck confirming that it's just under the vertical border of the arena, and a loud but inconclusive debate breaking out about whether it would be disqualified if it was actually so tall that it was over the vertical limit while still standing on the ground).

The commentators announcement that the fight is to begin is drowned out by a roar from Longbow as it lunges forward, striking for Blue Lagoon. Taking this cue, Shrapnel darts in to harry Red Genie, distracting it from coordinating with its teammate to take down Longbow.

Longbow's first strike hits wide, barely missing Blue Lagoon, and sending a shower of stone across the Arena as one of the huge blade hands embeds in the arena floor. Longbow pulls out its hand, bringing with it chunks of metal reinforcement and sparking wires, and tenses up for another strike, but Blue Lagoon has taken advantage of the tangled wreckage of the arena floor and found a nook to hide in, making Longbow glare around to find a target.

Meanwhile, Shrapnel, clad in a regulation swimsuit, is leading Green Genie on a merry chase, dashing in to bat against the leathery hide, then darting off before Green Genie can strike back. Sometimes Red Genie is a little too quick, or Shrapnel is a little too slow, but Shrapnel seems unfazed by being punted across the Arena and zooms back in to reengage before Green Genie has a chance to assist Blue Lagoon.

Longbow roars again, smashing out indiscriminately at the arena floor, trying to pin down Blue Lagoon, or at least obliterate anywhere it could hide. Each strike leave huge gouges in the arena, tearing through the structure and making some of the sound systems buzz with static is their wires are cut. It's getting pretty clear that while Longbow is under some control, if it's allowed to continue then it will just keep doing damage.

Midnight signals to Shrapnel, which scoots over and stares at Longbow until it notices the tiny chibi robot. When it gazes into Shrapnels big, sad eyes, it pauses its attack and obediently follows Shrapnel over towards where Midnight is sat in the stands. With Longbow and Shrapnel moving enough to stay in the fight, and Team Slime hanging back but doing likewise, Midnight admonishes the huge monster.

“NO! Bad Longbow. Fight the monsters, not the arena. Remember what I taught you - You've been through a lot of changes, but you need to control it so you don't regret it later. Now go get 'em!”

Longbow gives an obedient whimper, and takes a step across the arena and back to the fight. This time, Shrapnel darts through the debris left by Longbow, hunting down Blue Lagoon, and Green Genie squares off against Longbow. The fight continues - though with less damage to the scenery - Green Genie just about holding its own against the much larger opponent, until Blue Lagoon leaps out to strike. In the same moment, Shrapnel darts up, and stares at Blue Lagoon with large, sad eyes. All the fight goes out of Blue Lagoon mid-strike, and it just kind of flumphs against Longbow's leg and gets kicked aside. Finally, one of Longbow's strikes connects, sending Green Genie clear across the Arena and slamming into the protective barrier in front of the South Stands (causing a small panic and cries of “IT'S HAPPENING AGAIN!” as people try to leave).

“TEAM LEGIT WIN, and that was a hell of a fight - 2 style points to each team!”

“Fans of the Arena! Put your hands together for Doughball and The Cat!!!”

The Cat slinks into the ring, disappearing and reappearing amidst the rocky floor. Meanwhile, the slightly-less-than-aptly-named Doughball comes bouncing into the Arena. The latter, now a large, gleaming birthday cake, appears slightly hungrier than it once did: jam drips from its still inordinately delicious-looking cakey jaws.

Fans cheer for both: some sporting cheerful 'I Support the New Vice Executive' T-shirts, but the vast bulk holding up specially-marketed, buy-five-for-the-price-of-four Maximum Taste's Monster House banners.

“The Cat is back! And now it isn't! And now it is again! And now it's staring inexplicably at the corner. What a delightful appearance from this furry, elusive little beast! Meanwhile, here's hoping that Doughball - now colloquially known as Birthday Cake - doesn't bite the hand that feeds it this time round, but instead feeds on the Monster that bites it!”

The two Monsters circle one another: The Cat crouched over, wiggling its haunches, ready to pounce; Doughball issuing a sticky growl. The Cat is the first to spring, launching itself towards its opponent with claws outstretched.

“Oof! Aaaand Doughball takes a cat to the face! Looks like its claws can't quite puncture that royal icing coating, though!”

Sure enough, as Doughball writhes in anger, The Cat struggles to gain purchase against the hard shell of its icing. It is flung heavily across the Arena, after-images falling away as it disappears off to the side.

Doughball begins scenting the air, robbed of its prey. It opens its jaws wide, salivating jam in anticipation.

“Aaaaand Doughball advances, folks! But The Cat seems to have other ideas. It's pouncing on a spider by the edge of the ring! No, wait - it's exuding some hallucinogenic gas! No, wait - there are a million monkeys in the Arena, all of them equipped with archeotech guns! No - now they've morphed together to form a sculpture of Metrovore made entirely out of jelly! No - now my Great-Aunt Teapot is riding Dark Steel into the sunset!”

The commentator, having inhaled a faceful of gas, slips below their seat. Doughball, having snuffed a fair amount of the stuff, fares little better, gnashing its jaws after imaginary things, utterly disorientated.

The Cat, meanwhile, advances with a long, rage-filled yowl. It bats at Doughball with its claws, latching onto the top half of the cake and kicking its hind legs against the icing. Doughball, however, seems to have cleared its head, and whatever it sees, remains lucid enough to chomp down hard on The Cat's legs.

There is an enraged feline screech, and The Cat bites hard at Doughball's face. However, Doughball's jaws remain clamped down. It begins to concentrate, large eyes squinting.

A few seconds later, its candles jet into an almighty burst of flame.

“Whoa!” says the commentator, having seemingly recovered from their trance enough to sit up in their seat. “Am I still hallucinating, or is The Cat on fire?”

But no - The Cat is indeed rolling against the rocks in a half-successful effort to put out the flames. Doughball gives a triumphant, jammy roar, and advances towards the sizzling Cat, still salivating. However, after a sharp reprimand from Maximum Taste, it sits. The Cat, meanwhile, slumps to the floor, exhausted.

“Aaaand that's a win for Doughball!”

“The slash of the talons! The peck of the beak! Rust sprays everywhere! Yes! This is UMBA!!!”

“Today, Arena Fans,” comes the voice of Commentator Jitter, “we answer that age old question: who would win in a fight? A Giant Block of Wood or a Tiny Ball of Fire? I know who I've put my money on, but I'm supposed to remain impartial, so without further ado, let's meet the Monsters!”

The lights in the Arena aren't needed to illuminate the happy smiling ball of fire in one corner, but a custom rig seemingly designed for Giant Block of Wood illuminate the Inertianator.

“Friendly Fire is making waves in the Arena ever since its unmasking - it's making a name for itself and looking to gain a strong seeding for Season 37, don't you think?”

The crowd cheers, an audible addition shouting “I LOVE YOU FRIENDLY FIRE!” that can't be picked out on its own.

“And of course, you all know her, you all love her, or hate her, or feel as ambivalent about her as she feels about everything: it's GIANT BLOCK OF- oh, right, sorry, THE INTERTIANATOR!!!”

The crowd cheers, and ripples throughout of people holding up cards spell out “GIANT BLOCK OF WOOD” in the audience.

“The rules as ever: two Monsters in, one Monster out - let's do this thing!”

The battle starts, and Giant Block of Wood - who has been placed on a set of rollers by Creative Branch to keep it moving back and forth springs into action- I'm kidding we all know how this goes. Giant Block of Wood sits motionless in the Arena save for the rollers. Friendly Fire seems confused. It knows something is desired of it, but as it looks at Giant Block of Wood it really doesn't seem like it wants to go close, like it knows something bad might happen.

Eventually, the crowd grow restless, and there's a growing sentiment of dissatisfaction. Friendly Fire's face draws sad and it moves closer to Giant Block of Wood, to cheers from the audience. Spurred on by positive reinforcement, Friendly Fire gets closer to Giant Block of Wood again, and more cheers occur. Friendly Fire jumps onto the rollers and gives Giant Block of Wood a BIG HUG and the crowd goes wild.

Giant Block of Wood catches fire immediately, and the rollers stop. Ten seconds pass, during which Friendly Fire is declared victorious, but suddenly fans spot Arch running into the Arena with a bucket of water which they use to douse Giant Block of Wood.

“How many times have I told you!” they shout to Friendly Fire, “Don't set fire to Giant Block of Wood!”

Friendly Fire looks admonished, and the audience are confused. Arch realises they have the entire audience's eyes on them, and not sure what to do or say, realises this is their moment anyway and speaks.

“ARENA FANS! I know you love bloodshed in the Arena - I know you love seeing two Monsters fighting and wrestling with each other - but Monsters DYING in the Arena? That's wrong! You wanted to see Giant Block of Wood burn? But Giant Block of Wood belongs to someone, someone cares about Giant Block of Wood. Sprocket loves Giant Block of Wood; Canon loved Giant Block of Wood; and skies, even 'ly here obviously loves Giant Block of Wood. You want to see all those people lose something they love?”

The audience murmurs in confusion, and Arch continues, “Keep fighting Monsters, that's what this Arena is built on, but please, for all the skies above, stop letting Monsters die - it's… it's just-”

“AND ON THAT NOTE THE UMPIRE HAS DELIVERED A VERDICT,” comes the voice of Jitter over the sound system, drowning out Arch, “ARCH'S WINNINGS WILL BE DONATED TO SPAM, since they clearly care so much about their Monsters. We hope you had a good evening, folks!”

“I'm not sure how it wrapped its tiny jaws around that bell, but there you go. Spikeby, unsurprisingly, loses.”

“And we're off! Titch versus Angler, which of them will triumph? Titch is making some very early, very confident sweeps towards Angler who is ready with that net of his… will he manage to pin it?”

“Look at the speed on that thing! Impressive training has been put into this Monster – nice work, Ash Moon!”

Titch swoops past Angler, who leaps deftly to one side. However, the winged Monster twists sharply in the air and bends back around to attack for a second time, faster than Angler can prepare for it.

He's knocked off his feet into one of the pillars scattered around the Arena and is pummelled by Titch's legs and wings. He puts up a valiant effort to throw the little Monster off him but can't manage to trap it in time before his head collides once more with the pillar and he falls still.

“TITCH WINS!”

…THE TENT's eyes shine on Toxtor, retreated into its shell. The great turtle's head starts to peek out, moving left to right in time with THE TENT's eyes moving side to side, and then suddenly it LUNGES and bites Toxtor's head. The Turtle screeches and writhes, and then, held still for 10s, is defeated.

“Victory Viper looks sad as the Arena floor dissolves around it and it sinks into the sand unconscious… yep, there we go again.”

“Welcome, one and all, to the show of the season! The TASTE-TASTIC ULTIMATE SURVIVOR BATTLE, proudly sponsored by Max Taste's Monster House, Omega, and Tatters Trading Industry!” Decibel's voice rings out across the packed Arena. “With ELEVEN mighty competitors slugging it out for the title of ULTIMATE SURVIVOR CHAMPION, it's sure to be an exciting show!”

“First up, let's have a big hand for last year's Champion; Nocturne's indefatigable, indestructible…TOXTOR.”

Toxtor lumbers into the Arena; taking the first minute of the fight to inspect the setting - the Arena is mostly bare, barring the banners and murals advertising sponsors, to allow plenty of room for all the competitors - and to glare at the audience, before taking up a position in the centre of the Arena, staring at the door to Basilica's pen as it waits for its first opponent to emerge.

“Now, the first challenger! The mighty temple itself, Angler's BASILICA!”

Basilica marches in; huge body dwarfing Toxtor. The huge Monster makes no immediate attempt to engage, and after a brief stare-down, Toxtor advances, snapping at Basilica's ankles. Basilica tries to evade, and Toxtor follows, managing to trip Basilica so she stumbles, giving Toxtor's beak a chance to get a snap in. Basilica, infuriated, slams her body down on top of Toxtor's shell.

Over the noise of Basilica crashing repeatedly down on Toxtor - masonry grinding against craggy shell, glowing ooze smearing across Basilica's body and the sand of the Arena floor - Decibel announces the next competitor.

“Trained by Gintrap, we have MAXIMUS entering next! He might not be the sharpest tool in the box, but his knife sure is!”

Maximus wanders in, and looks around. He looks up at Basilica, slamming again down onto Toxtor, though her movements are growing slightly more sluggish now. He looks down at Toxtor, struggling underneath Basilica, head and forelimbs sticking out from its shell.

He looks down at his knife.

Maximus raises his knife; marches towards Toxtor, and begins attempting to hack off a leg. Basilica, as Maximus approaches, stops pounding and lies still on top of Toxtor, pinning it firmly to the ground. Toxtor's head jerks furiously, as it struggles to free itself, and then it darts its head around and bites Maximus's knife arm.

Maximus drags his arm free and stabs Toxtor in the face.

“Next up! Also trained by Gintrap - doubling her chances here, I see - we have ANGLER!”

Angler, trident in hand, sprints into the Arena; circling around Basilica to climb up her on the far side from Toxtor and Maximus; staying well clear of Toxtor's snapping jaws. Perched high up in the temple complex, he surveys the Arena watchfully. Below, Toxtor and Maximus continue battling it out - Toxtor's face and legs are covered in knife wounds, one of its eyes screwed shut as ichorous blood drips into it. Maximus's arms and torso have been bitten multiple times, and his movements are beginning to become slower and jerkier as Toxtor's venom takes hold.

With a groan, Basilica heaves herself up and drops, shuddering, back down on Toxtor. The ground shakes, and Maximus is thrown off his feet. Toxtor, dazed from the repeated impact and too firmly pinned to quite reach Maximus, watches helplessly as Maximus struggles back to his feet.

“Coming in next; we've got another humanoid monster! Lots of small fry here; but speed and aggression can topple even the biggest Monsters! Let's see how this changes the fight. From trainer Yarn, we have…STRIKE!”

Strike bounds into the Arena, swinging his axe.

Strike, like Angler, steers clear of Toxtor. Axe whirling, he advances - perhaps to go for Basilica, perhaps to climb up and engage Angler. Either way, he doesn't get the chance.

Angler, from his vantage point on top of Basilica, swings out a chain-link net and drops it over Strike.

Strike flails under the net; trying to bring his axe into position to cut through it, and then, when he can't get the range to swing, letting go of the axe with one hand to tug the links off himself.

While Strike is distracted freeing himself, Maximus, lurching uncoordinatedly, staggers up to him and plunges his knife into Strike's shoulder.

Strike, still partially tangled in the net, re-establishes his grip on his axe and whirls around to engage Maximus, who is grabbing for Strike's arm with his free hand, knife raised to hack it off.

As Strike and Maximus battle it out, Angler quietly clambers down Basilica, settling in a vantage point just above the fight, watching like a hawk. When Strike's back is turned and his attention fully on Maximus; Angler leaps in with his trident, catching Strike on his already injured shoulder and knocking him down, tripping in the net still tangled around his legs.

Maximus and Angler are both on Strike before he can get back to his feet; and he fights on from his knees, swinging the axe around in a rapid arc. It knocks Maximus's legs from under him, and Maximus falls.

He twitches and struggles to rise, but soon goes limp.

“MAXIMUS IS DOWN! That's our first knockout of the battle, folks!”

The axe strikes Angler a glancing blow too, sweeping under his guard, and he staggers back, bleeding. The two gladiators face off, jabbing, parrying, and swinging at each other. Both are battered and bleeding; though Strike is coming off worse.

“Hard as it must be for everyone to tear their eyes from this bloody spectacle, we have another contestant due to enter! Trained by our very own sponsor, MAXIMUM TASTE, and as much fun as a Monster House special…it's DISCO CRAB!”

A throbbing disco beat fills the air, and the Arena is filled with strobing lights as Disco Crab dances in.

Strike and Angler continue fighting, but oddly jerky. Angler, on the back foot, pulls out a whip and lashes out at Strike, dual-wielding.

Angler adapts more quickly than Strike, jabbing his trident to the beat of Disco Crab's jaunty tunes. Strike tries to parry, but misses the beat, and the trident strikes home. The whip curls around Strike's ankles a second later. Strike falls to the floor, convulsing.

“And that looks like…Yes, looks like Strike's down, there. We're five and a half minutes in, with over half the contestants having entered the Arena, and two competitors out!”

Angler stops to gather his net up from the floor, moving carefully to Disco Crab's beat.

“Angler looks pretty beat up, but he's still moving, and so's Basilica…just about. Toxtor, flailing away there. And Disco Crab, what a gamechanger!”

Disco Crab, meanwhile, makes no attempt to engage the surviving Monsters, preferring to dance around the edge of the Arena, glittering, flashing, and blaring out dance music.

“Next up! A real wild card, this next entry - we haven't seen it in the Arena before, so this is a real baptism of fire Cyclops is giving their monster. Let's see what STONE ANGEL has for us today…”

Stone Angel stalks into the Arena, looks around, and hisses furiously, spreading marble wings glowing with magma and rattling them indiscriminately at both the audience and its opponents, as it screws up its gargoyle-like face and screeches.

Disco Crab scuttles further away from it, hiding behind Basilica and Toxtor. Angler, too, retreats, scrambling back up into Basilica. Stone Angel beats its wings, hops as if in an attempt to fly, and then drops to the ground, stalking swiftly forwards on its thin, oddly bent legs.

Its clawed feet thud down in time to Disco Crab's music. The techno beat grows faster as Disco Crab gets agitated; and Stone Angel breaks into a run.

Stone Angel reaches Basilica, and clambers up into it; disappearing into the ruins that provide what is probably now the only cover in the Arena.

Whatever it's doing in there is a mystery to the audience - perhaps it's stalking Angler, perhaps attacking Basilica itself, but any noise it's making is inaudible over the pulsing beat of Disco Crab.

Angler leaps from Basilica and heads for Disco Crab, barely dodging a chunk of falling masonry that splits off from Basilica and crashes to the floor.

“Looks like whatever Stone Angel's doing up there, it's not doing Basilica any favours!”

Basilica groans and sags. Its full weight is leaning on the flailing Toxtor; and it no longer seems to be moving at all under its own power.

“I think that might be Basilica down and out! And now, time for our next contestant. Trained by the fabulous Saffron, we have…PEPPER!”

A blur of fur streaks into the Arena, dashing in fast enough that she's covered most of the width of it between beats of Disco Crab's music. She skids to a stop, shaking her fur into spikes, and is just launching one in Toxtor's direction when a gargoyle on one of Basilica's walls resolves into the crouching form of Stone Angel.

Angel leaps down, talons extended, to pounce on Pepper. Pepper reacts instantly, sharp teeth sinking into Angel's leg. The two of them bowl across the Arena floor in a blur of teeth and claws. Pepper emerges victorious, leaving Stone Angel limp on the floor.

“And that's another knockout! Good showing from Pepper there!”

Pepper resumes her attack on Toxtor, while on the other side of the Arena, Angler attempts to engage Disco Crab. The music speeds up to a frantic pace as Disco Crab struggles to repel its oppoonent, and Angler is reduced to tiny, stuttering steps with no time to get a solid blow in.

He retreats as Decibel announces the next competitor.

“Next up - only two more after this, we're getting close to the final showdown here, folks - it's DOZER! Trained by Suture, this monster has gone from an Arena laughing stock to a force to be reckoned with over the course of this season. Could it have a championship in its future?”

Dozer enters the Arena; and storms directly - if, necessarily, jerkily - towards Disco Crab; apparently having realized how much of an issue the beat can be to slower-moving Monsters.

This is abruptly proved when, as Dozer is almost upon Disco Crab, Pepper rolls into a ball and careens across the Arena. Again covering an astonishing amount of distance between beats, Pepper slams into Dozer. While her spikes fail to penetrate Dozer's armour plating, the force of her impact is nonetheless enough to knock the larger monster tumbling head over heels. The two of them slide across the floor, Disco Crab sidestepping to avoid them. Pepper uncurls and runs before Dozer can recover itself, keeping ahead of all her opponents.

“The penultimate challenger! You all know this one! Trained by Blade, it's one of the most deadly monsters to grace this Arena - the one, the only - DARK STEEL!”

All around the Arena, monster pen doors slide open.

Seven Dark Steels step into the Arena.

There is a moment of stunned silence.

The Dark Steels step forwards. In unison, they raise their blades.

“And Dark Steel…er, Dark Steels…seem to be setting up for its super powerful attack!”

Angler makes a break for it, running to stand behind one of the Dark Steels ringing the Arena, using it as a shield while keeping a careful eye on all of them.

Dozer breaks into a charge. Pepper looks around at the array of foes in front of her, rolls into a ball, and flames flicker into life on her spiked fur.

Toxtor is still squirming underneath Basilica, and redoubles its efforts to wriggle free, rolling its eyes in panic.

The Dark Steels bring their blades down. GIGASLASH.

A wave of force slams out from one. It slices across the Arena, and hits Toxtor dead on, slicing the monster in two and carrying on through it to sink deeply into Basilica, almost bisecting the giant temple monster as well.

“Basilica!” Angler shouts, dashing forwards towards his monster. He runs directly into the path of Dozer, charging for the Dark Steel Angler had been hiding behind. Angler is knocked to the floor and unconscious, as Dozer continues, taking out the decoy Dark Steel - far lighter than the real thing, it is flung across the Arena to slam into a wall.

“That's…that's Toxtor thoroughly down,” Decibel manages, sounding shaken. “A fatality on the first blow from Dark Steel. And if Basilica wasn't already out of the running, it and Angler both are now.”

As Decibel speaks, the flaming ball of spikes that is Pepper begins rolling at high speed around the Arena, taking out the remaining duplicate Dark Steels. The real one manages to throw itself out of the way, rolling to its feet and fixing Pepper with an intimidating glare.

Pepper retreats.

“Let's recap quickly before the final Monster enters the fray! Maximus is down! Strike is down! Basilica is down! Stone Angel is down! Toxtor is down with extreme prejudice! Angler is down! Still in the fight, we have Disco Crab! We have Pepper! We have Dozer! We have Dark Steel! And now, last but by no means least, trained by our wonderful sponsor Tatters, we have…OMEGA!”

Omega waves to the crowd as she runs into the Arena, before immediately activating her harness and swinging smoothly up into the air, arcing over Dark Steel's head as she launches herself across the Arena.

Dozer bulldozes into Disco Crab; knocking it to the ground. The music stops, the flashing lights dim. There is a brief pause as the contestants readjust and then the fight picks up again - with renewed intensity now it's no longer bound by tempo.

Omega launches a shoulder-mounted rocket at Dark Steel, who responds by launching a low-powered Gigaslash upwards, slicing through the wires of Omega's mobility harness.

Omega laughs. Ice-white wings unfurl from her shoulders, and she swoops across the Arena.

Meanwhile, Pepper, a rolling ball of spiky viciousness, slams into Dozer again, uncurling to claw at it face and underbelly with frenzied ferocity until Dozer collapses.

“Dozer's down! We're on the final three, folks - Pepper, Dark Steel, and Omega - all great Monsters with everything to play for in the final stages!”

Pepper launches a spike at Omega, who dodges, retaliating with a rocket that explodes violently a few metres behind the fleeing Pepper.

Dark Steel stays well clear, stalking around the edge of the Arena as the two fight it out.

Both Pepper and Omega fire repeatedly at each other; Pepper zooming and zig-zagging out of the way of Omega's rockets, Omega flipping, dodging, and barrel-rolling acrobatically through the air, always a step ahead of Pepper's spikes.

Omega's rocket launcher clicks dry and jams. Pepper flings her last flaming spike.

Omega swoops down towards Pepper, scythe at the ready, a nimbus of flame flickering around her . Pepper leaps up to meet her, clawing and hissing. She manages to twist out of the way of the scythe blade, and claws briefly at Omega's face, before Omega brings the scythe haft around. The handle of the scythe smashes into Pepper's body, throwing her clear across the Arena - directly at Dark Steel.

Dark Steel punches out as Pepper reaches it, knocking her flying again. She hits a wall, and slides down it to lie limp at its base.

“And that's Pepper out of the running! She put up a wonderful fight, though! We're down to our final two contestants…may the best Monster win!”

Dark Steel glares at Omega. Omega grins and ignores it, wings beating as she swoops in with her scythe.

Dark Steel slashes its blade down, and steps into the darkness that opens up in front of it. Omega pivots instantly, scythe coming up to block Dark Steel's incoming blade as he appears behind her.

Dark Steel flickers across the Arena, Omega always somehow keeping time with him. Yet another Dark Steel flickers into being, and the two of them advance together on Omega, who hesitates, eyes flickering back and forth between them as both advance, blades swinging before she comes to a conclusion and swings at what turns out to be the right one, plasma scythe scoring a long slice into Dark Steel's metal body before he manages to dodge - landing a strike of his own on Omega's left arm as he does so.

Dark Steel teleports again, appearing across the Arena, well behind Omega. He raises a new weapon. Dark Steel fires. Omega ducks, folding her wings and dropping like a stone. The missile shrieks over her head and slams hard into one of the supports holding up a section of the South Stands. Debris and shrapnel flies across the stands, spectators screaming and fleeing. Omega howls and charges at Dark Steel, scythe swinging.

Over the sounds of the fighting, and the panicking spectators in the stands, Decibel's commentary, along with Noggin', claiming the mic to reassure the audience that the damage is under control and also entirely within the rules - and that if anyone should take the blame, it's Omega for ducking, not Dark Steel for launching a perfectly legitimate attack - can just about be made out.

Dark Steel meets Omega's scythe with his sword, and the two of them duel frantically, slashing and cutting at one another with ever-increasing force. Finally their weapons meet with such force that both scythe and sword shatter.

Omega stumbles back, looking for a weapon, and seizes Angler's whip from where it fell to the floor when he went down. Dark Steel also brings out a whip, and the two rush at each other again. Both whips crackle with electricity as they lash out.

The two duel again; the crackling electricity playing across Dark Steel's metal form and wearing down Omega's armour. Both monsters are stumbling, exhausted, beginning to make mistakes, and neither is fighting with their primary weapon any more. Their attacks snap past each other's guards. Finally, Omega crashes to the ground. She struggles to rise, though she's clearly seriously injured already. Dark Steel backhands her with a bladed fist, and there's a horrible crunching noise as Omega's head snaps back, she flies backwards and lands hard, not moving.

There's a moment's pause.

“Is…is she dead?” Decibel asks, into the sudden silence. “I, um, I think that might be another fatality. She's certainly out of the running, which leaves DARK STEEL as this season's ULTIMATE SURVIVOR CHAMPION!”

After The Hedgehog's surprisingly non-deafening performance last round, where it took down The Howling Terror in really quite good humour, the audience numbers have picked back up. Mainly, they're rooting for Sprocket, and chanting “NYOOMIE! NYOOMIE!”.

The Nyoominator gives her signature wheel spinning entrance, and The Hedgehog ambles around the Arena snuffling. There's a few clashes. The Nyoominator glances off spines, The Hedgehog lashes out at the dust The Nyoominator leaves behind.

The Arena has been decorated like a woodland glade. Sure, The Hedgehog just smashed up some tulips, but this battle is really rather wholesome. Actually, it's not exciting at all. The Nyoominator, feeling unthreatened, has slowed down. Without loud revving noises and the sounds of combat, the battle is quiet. The Hedgehog shuffles round some more, rolling over stones and kicking up turf.

The commentator tries to keep going.

“That's another tulip going up there! Whew, Maintenance are really going to have their hands full with all this plantlife to clean up! Maybe the whole woodland feel has really distracted the Hedgehog, huh? Come on, Nyoomie, it's your chance to shine!”

But The Nyoominator has slowed and is watching The Hedgehog as it tries to crawl under a log. The audience rustles impatiently, and some of them are heard saying “Aaaw” and suchlike as The Hedgehog sadly starts to form a nest, pulling bits of grass and twigs around itself.

The commentator has run out of interesting things to say, and invites the audience to submit their best motorbike-based puns. Neither Monster is inert; the battle clearly cannot be called.

After a few unhappy minutes, the Hedgehog finds a stone that looks browner than the others, and places it in the nest. The Nyoominator edges yet closer, and brushes fully up against The Hdegehog's flank. The two look down at the stone.

After twenty minutes or so, The Hedgehog falls asleep. But before the countdown can even finish, the commentator shouts out:

“OOookay, folks! I've just heard from Creative that this match is about to be SPICED UP! Wait, wait - REVVED UP! We're going to have a WHEELIE good time. Introducing: THE NEW HOUSE MONSTER: THE ECHIDNA!”

As the ten seconds finish, one Arena entrance door slams open - scattering petals and fake birds nests - and a new Monster barrels in. It's as large as a cart, dark brown, and sleek, with long delicately-tapering spines that point backwards in a shiny cloak. The Hedgehog's quills stick up in horrible dangerous directions, but this beast looks almost elegant.

When its face lifts, the elegant look shatters: it has a comically thin stick of a nose, ending in an upturned button. And its eyes… are the eyes of evil.

The Echidna charges at The Nyoominator without hesitation. It jumps brutally, swings and claws. The Nyoominator springs backwards and pulls off some talented defensive moves, but the whirling bloodlust wrapped up in spines is too much. Still there's the feeling that, even as Nyoomie gets smashed to the ground and knocked out, it's the Echidna that's having the worse day.

As it backs up and growls at the audience, it gives the impression that it has never had a good day in its life.

“Hey, everyone, look - The Hedgehog is awake again!”

So it is, and instead of screaming and charging as a ball of rage, The Echidna stops and stares.

The Hedgehog stares back. Then the two bound toward each other. They nearly collide head on, but end up rubbing and keening and rolling over each other. Two snouts snuffle, two prickly heads nudge, and four dark menacing little eyes drink in the sight of each other.

Then they shuffle back to The Hedgehog's nest and settle down together, snorting softly.

The second The Hedgehog closes its eyes, the Umpire begins a countdown. The Echidna is only barely awake as the countdown ends, but drooping eyelids and yawns still count as movements.

“SO, the results: iiiiiin THE NYOOMINATOR versus THE HEDGEHOG match, THE NYOOMINATOR WINS! Iiiiin THE NYOOMINATOR versus THE ECHIDNA surprise showmatch, THE ECHIDNA WINS! Now… ah, neither of them are… moving… um… can anyone? No? Okay… looks like they're… staying here…?”