Ultimate Monster Battle Arena Season XXXVI Final Round Battles

“Welcome, one and all, to the Arena! Today, we have the privilege of watching Angler – having placed an impressive sixth in last round’s Ultimate Survivor Battle – take on Luminous Point, trained by the ever-popular Pluck! And isn’t the set-dressing just stunning?”

The Commentator gestures to the stone structures littering the Arena floor. Luminous Point is crouched underneath a huge, beautifully-carved archway while Angler stands on the far side of the Arena with one hand pressed against a shattered marble pillar.

“I have a note from Creative Branch here… ah, any similarities between the current Arena decor and the remains of certain Monsters who may have been irreparably damaged last round should be ignored – this is an entirely fresh temple aesthetic! Thanks, Creative Branch! Anyway, is the Umpire ready?”

The Umpire stands and clears her throat. “Angler! Luminous Point! Battle will commence in three… two… one… BEGIN!”

Angler moves into cover immediately and peers around the side of a pillar at Luminous Point, whose eerie gaze is fixed on a nearby spot on the ground. The Arena floor splits open into a deep void. Seeing this, Angler begins to back away, trident clutched tightly in one hand.

Luminous Point stamps once, twice, and the archway it stands beneath begins to shake. A third stamp and the marble structure suddenly collapses, sending chunks of rock clattering to the ground – or, in the case of a few of the tumbling stones, into the void. Luminous Point slowly steps back, satisfied with its work.

Angler runs.

The marble shards burst back out of the void and spiral into formation before sweeping towards Angler. He zig-zags across the Arena, flinging himself around pillars and sliding underneath archways as he’s pursued by the barrage. He’s fast, but not quite fast enough to outrun Luminous Point’s attack, and for a moment it looks like he’s about to be shredded by the flying rocks.

Just in time, Angler rolls under a low horizontal beam and twists his body behind a sturdy stone wall. The incoming marble shards crack against the barrier, sending thick clouds of choking white dust into the air. Safe behind cover for now, Angler takes a moment to catch his breath.

The Commentator’s voice rings out. “AND AFTER DODGING THAT FLAKTAL ATTACK, ANGLER IS ON THE MOVE AGAIN! AND HE… appears to be talking to himself? Is this some new combat strategy?”

Luminous Point has twisted around to face its opponent. Its empty eyes stare blankly in Angler’s direction. For just a moment, Angler peers out from cover to meet its stare, then returns to safety with a shudder.

“Ooh, Luminous Point is stepping away from that archway at last! And Angler seems to have… stopped running? Huh, he looks a bit unwell. Angler, are you alright?”

“WILL YOU BOTH PLEASE GET OUT OF MY HEAD?!”

“Um… Angler?” The Commentator sounds deeply concerned. “Who are you talking to?”

Angler seems to snap out of his confusion and begins to move again. He almost collides with Luminous Point who has been slowly approaching him, but makes the most of his own agility to avoid the Monster’s attacks. He weaves around pillars and walls too quickly for his opponent to follow him, and once he’s in a position to strike from behind…

“LUMINOUS POINT IS PINNED! EXCELLENT SHOT WITH THAT NET, ANGLER! HE’S MOVING IN WITH THE TRIDENT AND… THAT’S LUMINOUS POINT DOWN!! CONGRATULATIONS, ANGLER!”

The Dozer vs Wreckatar Beta Division Heavyweight match is early on in the round. The Maintenance division has prepared the Arena specically for this fight, and any anticipated damage. There are nets by the Arena walls to catch flying debris, and as much effort has been made to pad the Arena as possible given the lack of technology currently available:

“Nooow, unfortunately, it has probably not escaped your notice, gracious audience, that the Archaeotech powering the Arena is temporarily affected. Technicians and engineers are working to get the big stuff that you're all used to up and running as we speak. But for the moment, I'm using this very very mega megaphone! Sooo our competitors. Suture is waving out Dozer, and Pennythrift Steeple - my, look at those magnificant moustaches - is waving out Wreckatar.”

The two Monsters hurtle out into the Arena at the Umpire's word.

“Yes, you are not mistaken, gracious audience, hanging around the wall are indeed… matresses! Why, what else could possibly spare the poor walls from these juggernauts?”

Dozer and Wreckatar collide, Wreckatar in its signature curled ball shape bouncing off Dozer's armoured hide. There are piles of fabric and furniture, too, a collection of stuffed armchairs, pillows: huge cairns of fabric and scraps.

“Oooh, that's Dozer using its special move, BULLDOZE! Wreckatar… Wreckatar just hurls itself out of the way, but what do I spot? Is it… Yes, the Umpire is pointing too. One of Wreckatar's tails has been hit, nearly crushed, it looks like. How will this affect our whirling three-tailed ball in terms of balance?”

Wreckatar and Dozer make another high-speed lap of the Arena, colliding off each other and off the piles of fabric. The efforts by Maintenance to slow the Monsters is only partially successful, and the success is diminishing by the minute.

“Aha! Wreckatar bouncing off Dozer again. The two are being rather playful, I have to say - word is that these Monsters are quite friendly, in fact, having trained at the Beetle Circus together. Is this more of a friendly than a Heavyweight?”

Wreckatar, at full speed, can not be caught by Dozer, but Dozer is significantly bigger than Wreckatar, and weathers hits far better.

“Aaaah, and that's a SMASH! Wreckatar has - bounced off? or gone through? - no, apparently gone through two layers of mattresses! Look at those concrete chips! And OOOOOH, Dozer Bulldozes STRAIGHT INTO Wreckatar! Aaaargh! The Umpire is counting Wreckatar down!”

The Umpire counts down, gesticulating furiously, as Maintenance technicians frantically run to and fro.

“That's, er, significant damage, apparently. Can anyone else see the deep marks in the floor, where they skidded together? Ugh, gracious audience, we may have to delay the next match for a few hours or, ugh, possibly until tomorrow…. turns out mattresses are not quite as good as Archaeotech… who knew.”

“Sadly as Angler fails to field a Monster, Ferrosaur takes the match!”

“Blue Lagoon and Red Genie, entered by Quake and Cyclops, are together… TEEEEEAM SLIME! And THE TENT and Rollerpedes, entered by Pennythrift Steeple and Morose Progress, are together…. BEEEEETLE CIRCUS!”

Red Genie swings its horns, making the audience gasp with the fiery display.

Blue Lagoon enters, a blue amorphous mass that looks luxuriously comfortingly soft.

“We've heard that Blue Lagoon is super comfy to snuggle into. So, without further ado, COMMENCE. Ah, that's a good charge from Red Genie, countered by a TOOTHSOME ROCKET manoeuvre from Beetle Circus. The Monsters scatter, but not before Blue Lagoon can crush a good number of Rollerpedes!”

THE TENT camouflages, and sidles behind Blue Lagoon, then pounces. Entirely engulfed, Blue Lagoon's silhouette thrashes, before Red Genie charges up and sets fire to THE TENT.

“Oh! Oh! Fire! Wait - Pennythrift Steeple has directed a hose down onto his Monster!”

THE TENT writhes, drenched in water and fire, and spits out Blue Lagoon.

Blue Lagoon catapults out, up and up. It lands in the North Stands.

“T repeat, that's Blue Lagoon in the North stands! I think it's, er, suffocating people. Those in the bottom and top rows, please start evacuating in an orderly manner, leaving your bags behind and removing high-heeled shoes.”

The whistling sounds of Xenon darts fills the Arena.

“Er. Did we know that Blue Lagoon is Xenon resistant? Anyone? No? Mmm. WELL, LET'S ALL TURN OUR ATTENTION BACK TO THE MAIN FIGHT, where the Rollerpedes are dancing around Red Genie.”

THE TENT starts to deflate, crackling with electricity.

“That electricity ball around THE TENT is its new move, Electrical Swarm, and Red Genie is taking some electricity! Aaaand Red Genie smashes THE TENT into the Arena wall. Oops, that's Electrical Swarm gone mad! I've never seen such awesome lightning from a Monster. Watch out, nearest spectators in the West Stalls!”

Red Genie tramples over guy ropes and tent pegs, and THE TENT sags still further.

The Rollerpedes pile onto Red Genie, who shakes its horns frenetically. Rollerpedes scatter everywhere, including into the East stands. People scream as they are pelted by a hailstorm of small, armoured, fist-size beetles.

“Thank goodness for the reinforced glass on my Commentator's Box as the Rollerpedes forfeit in style! Can we get some stretchers over here please?”

THE TENT collapses inwards, and stills.

“TEAM SLIME WINS… for a given definition of win, I suppose. I'm not sure there are any winners here - Oh! Except for those in the Sou - the Love's Curse stands, who remain untouched!”

“Right. I'm getting word from the Umpire's aides. No style points for that fracas, I'm afraid. Excellent, more of the volunteer first aiders have reached the stands. With the Archaeotech chargers down around the Arena, it's unfortunate that some of the more high-tech medical equipment owned by The Network is out.

“Don't worry, though, everyone! Red Genie is still bellowing - what an awesome Monster - and bellowing loud enough to drown out some of those agonised wails!

“Sooo, that was your battle, and an interesting one, certainly, if not as splendid a show of ability and style as we are used to at this stage of the Championship. Bit of a shame that the winnings will be eaten up by repair fees…”

“Welcome, welcome, welcome, for this long-awaited grudge match! On one side, Pennythrift Steeple and his THE TENT wait among the debris which Creative have chosen to litter the Arena. On the other, Moros' Progress and his Rollerpedes wait among those awful statues, which, I am assured, are nowhere near as dangerous as the mechanical Dark Steel models last turn!”

The Rollerpedes statues, each human-sized, lurch from the shadows, and chitter and clunk in clockwork movement.

“Yes, the GRUDGE FIGHT between the warring once-companions of Beetle Circus! Now, I've heard that for this fight, Steeple has requested that both trainer podiums be located inside the Arena boundaries to 'remove the artificial safety net and prove once and for all that THE TENT is not a danger!' We'll see about that, shall we?” The audience laughs ominously.

Steeple and Progress are already trading jibes about Progress' academic Monsterology interests and Steeple's fascination with showmanship.

“The two may not be able to keep their bickering in check enough to let me talk! COMMENCE!”

The Arena is indeed decorated spectacularly. Shifting limelights, like the eyes of THE TENT, super-sized, wave frantically over the audience. A gigantic ceiling of fabric - a Big Top - hangs over the entire stadium, making the Arena seem more like one of Beetle Circus' shows than it has any right to (and hides the sight of the ruined stands and lack of Archaeotech infrastructure).

Each trainer's podium is designed to look like a giant trapeze, although the ropes that come from the top actually hold up the Arena's tent, not the other way around.

In front of Steeples' podium, he has placed a giant Archaeotech sponge to act as a bouncy castle for THE TENT to gain speed, in order to match the Rollerpedes' velocity.

Little of the Arena's floor is empty. Cracked paving, pieces of building, abandoned toys, old flags: the detritus of a city in turmoil. It's a clever echo of the nature of the grudge match. Plus, Creative is running low on ideas without the technology to assist them.

THE TENT and the Rollerpedes engage. The Rollerpedes surge towards THE TENT as it turns its hypnotic gaze on them. A column in the middle halts and sways but the endless wave continues, crashing over THE TENT. THE TENT crackles with electricity, a huge whirl of lightning starting up around the perimeter which fries dozens of beetles.

As the monsters spar, Progress and Steeple trade barbs from their podiums.

“For those of you who can't hear, Progress is questioning how much Steeple actually knows about THE TENT. Oooh, and his fellow showman retorts with a quip about League placement. Ouch! And OUCH AGAIN - the Rollerpedes just used a TOOTHSOME ROCKET manoeuvre to get under THE TENT! Look at it crash into the wall!”

Debris is being broken left right and centre. The Rollerpedes statues are in pieces; the wall is cracking; the podiums are precarious; THE TENT is turning props to frazzled sawdust.

The Rollerpedes smash THE TENT over another cairn of paving slabs and broken pipework. THE TENT lands on the Archaeotech sponge, and bounces chaotically and at terrifying speed.

THE TENT smashes into Steeples' podium. The whole pile of junk comes down, burying Steeple under bricks and plantpots.

The ropes holding up the gigantic non-monstrous tent - the one over the Arena - snap.

The roof splits open. Light streams in. Dust clouds rise from the falling fabric. The audience shrieks as the highest stands are buried under the jaunty colours of a huge Big Top.

Meanwhile, unstopped and unstoppable, THE TENT hurtles over Progress and engulfs him.

The commentator screams. “Eaten by his companion's own Monster!”

Emerging from under the rubble, Steeple clutches his hat. He stares, aghast. He raises his arms to the Rollerpedes, in firm command.

“Noooooooo!”

He dives towards THE TENT, utterly implacable in his grief. With him roll hundreds, thousands, of Rollerpedes, in a great hurricane. They lift him up into the air and carry him he sails to the rescue.

But there's a shout from within THE TENT.

“LET - ME - GO!”

And suddenly, miraculously, the canvas maw flings open and Morose emerges, dusty and slightly singed, but with nary a whisker displaced. Saved, he totters forward.

One of Steeple's moustaches falls off in shock.

“See?” Progress shouts at his near-hysterical hype-man, “You're not the only one who can control deadly monsters, you know!”

Hundreds of jaws hit the floor. The Rollerpedes lose momentum and part under Steeple, who also hits the floor. The warring companions stare at each other, covered in grit, bunting, and electrocuted bits of beetle.

Steeple snarls, then shivers, then shakes his head, and then bursts into teary emotion:

“You - you can! I forgot how much THE TENT respects you!”

Progress gasps and falls to his knees. “And I, the Rollerpedes you!”

“Oh, Moros'!” sobs Steeple.

“Oh, Pennythrift!” sobs Progress.

They stumble together, and shout: ” This… We… Can it be… That we were… ”

The two finish in union. “BOTH BEETLE CIRCUS ALL ALONG!”

The crowd goes crazy. It goes mad, ecstatic. This is better than Monster drama: it's human drama, and a long time coming. As the ringmasters embrace, there are emotional breakdowns and standing ovations, including from those sections of the audience fending off the remnants of the big top.

The commentator has been trying, futilely, to win attention from the audience, but her entertainment value is nil compared to Progress & Steeple. It's only when the Umpire stands and claps her hands that the applause and whooping cease.

“The winner,” screams Umpire Sway, “is the Rollerpedes!”

There's a double take before people realise that THE TENT has remained stationary, settled on the rocks, whereas half the Rollerpedes are still in motion, generally whizzing over the cobbles and skittering around their Trainer.

Progress and Steeple shake their heads. “No, no, no,” tuts Progress, “the real winner –”

“Is friendship!” finishes Steeple, magnificently.

Progress and Steeple shake each other's hand firmly. Then, with a flourish, they turn to face both halves of the audience, back to back.

They wave. They bow. And they exit the Arena, arm in arm.

Now that was Showmanship.

“Aaaaand we're off, folks! You know the contestents as well as I do: Thistle's outrageously spiked ball of horror with the charismatic glare and the plucky, can-do attitude goes up against Doomigator, the battled-bitten former champ with the radioactive appeal! Who will come out on top, and who will eat gravel? Let's find out!”

Doomigator begins to spew radioactive sludge at Thorn - noxious liquid that seeps its way towards Thorn's many limbs. Thorn, incensed, moves slowly out of range, thwacking Doomigator on the head with an indignant limb before making its retreat.

Doomigator backs up cautiously, before throwing caution utterly to the winds and charging in at Thorn. Thorn, however, does not appear to care about the imminent threat: instead, it is furrowing in on itself, as if attempting to minimise its bulk.

“Well, people, if Thorn thinks it can evade Doomigator by scrunching up in a ball and trying hard to hide, I hate to tell Thistle, but that thing is a little unmissable!” crows the commentator. The crowd laughs. “I mean, come on; you'd have to be pretty stupid to - HOLY FUCKING SKIES, WHAT WAS THAT???”

A white-hot column of light emerges from Thorn's centre. It burns across the Arena, shooting outwards and hitting Doomigator square in the chest.

Doomigator is thrown back by the force of the beam. Smoking slightly, and emitting some truly noxious-smelling chemical fumes, it falls onto its back, unconscious.

“And the winner is… Thistle!! What a turn-up for the books, folks! Looks like Thorn has yet to stop surprising us!”

“Welcome to a very special Arena match, fight fans! With the lights still out we're doing this old-school, so watch with us as two of the smallest monsters in the league go head to head for a lightweight speedster head-to-head.”

“It's going to be a challenge to spectate but we'll do our very best to give you a running commentary. Bear with us, fight fans!”

There are confused noises from the crowd, most of whom are unable to hear the announcers.

“Okay, so you probably won't be able to hear us either but we're just going to keep going.”

“Aha! There go the doors!”

The Arena doors open slowly, as they are hauled open by the Maintenance crews. Peering down in the waning light, it's just about possible to see Titch and Diamon as they enter from opposite sides.

“And we're off!”

“Yep, we're quick out of the gates. Titch is looking good today! Look at him speeding out of the gates! He has to be one of the fastest monsters in the league. He's moving like lightning, almost too fast to see-”

“-though that could be the lack of lights!”

“In any case, it looks like he's outpacing even Diamon, who's definitely no slouch.”

“Absolutely right; the crystal kitty clocks in near the top end and is making good ground across the Arena.”

A barely-visible blitz breaks out on the Arena floor, as Titch and Diamon duke it out, dashing past each other and attempting to land blows that are barely dodged at the last second.

“Ooh, that was a close one from Diamon there. It's almost as if that blow passed right through the winged wonder, I don't know how he dodged that.”

“Didn't look like he did! Yet he was on the other side of Diamon just as that blow should have connected. Could just be my eyes, but has Titch learned to teleport?”

“Could be! Wait… yes! He did it again! That blow from Diamon definitely should have connected.”

“And the reprisal comes just as fast, Titch landing the first solid blow of the match so far.”

The fight continues for quite some time in this vein, both monsters landing the occasional blow but Titch managing to dodge a fair amount more. Worse for Diamon, it seems to slow slightly as the fight drags on for a while, clearly tiring from a combination of glancing blows and the duration of the fight.

“Okay fight fans, it looks like we might be wrapping things up soon, that last blow from Titch has left Diamon staggered.”

“Yep, that's the opening that Titch needs. Now just to see if he takes it.”

“Wow! Looks like the teleport is useful for more than just dodging! That blow came out of nowhere, and Diamon is down!”

“The referee's counting already, looks like that was a finisher for this fight.”

“Absolutely, that's the kind of blow that could push Diamon over the edge - and yep, that's it! Diamon's out!”

“Titch is your winner! Let's hear it for Twitch, and Ash Moon!”

“The Network would like to extend its sincerest sympathies to the families and friends of those who lost their lives in the east stands today after MonoChrome headbutted Your Worst Nightmare out of the Arena. It would also like to remind them that all tickets are non-refundable, and reminds audience members that dismemberment of Monsters is technically destruction of property, and while Your Worst Nightmare was disliked by Maintenance, its murder at the hands of the audience and MonoChrome is not encouraged behaviour”

The Murk versus Deathbreath match is well attended. Both Monsters are well liked and, importantly, none of their fights have ended up with horror and carnage in the stands.

The Arena has been decorated in a manner to pay cheeky homage to the recent chaos across the city. Pieces of debris are piled by the entrances to channel the Monsters through a small path, and the smooth concrete floor has carefully-stacked piles of detritus.

Deathbreath's pinkness is a popular contrast. Murk trots through his entrance, snorting long hair up from over his eyes.

The commentator introduces a second commentator.

“And here as co-commentator iiiiiit's NOGGIN'! The famed Rules Lawyer is here to give us a few words on Murk.”

“Well, yes,” says Noggin' cheerfully to the Arena, “And a few words on Deathbreath, too!”

The audience draws in a breath resembling an “ooooh”. In the Trainer's box, Chaser jumps up and has a quick word with some of the Arena staff.

“Deathbreath is a champion,” continues Noggin', “A Monster we should all respect. Her performance, her colour, the drama of her toxic clouds - anyone should be proud to have her as an opponent. She brings brightness - especially versus the brown coat of Murk.”

Chaser pauses in the Trainer's box. The audience mumbles in confusion.

“That's right, folks,” the usual commentator resumes. “Noggin' is not here to Rules Lawyer - I think? - and he's not here to smear Chaser, he's here to CELEBRATE the spirit of UMBA: the story, the awesomeness.”

The Umpire blows a whistle with an unmistakable “hurry-up” message.

“COMMENCE!” shouts the commentator, and allows Noggin' to talk again.

“Of course, Chaser had the honour of being Lightweight Champion in Season XXV, following Deathbreath's astonishing performances… But I hope you agree that the rise of Murk through the divisions this Season has been quite the performance as well. Talking about stories, it's been the most amazing journey, that I want to share with you all.”

Murk and Deathbreath chase each other among the ruins. Murk canters and Deathbreath has no chance of catching up. Instead, she takes the tactic of trying to cut across the Arena as fast as she can, trying to come at Murk from an angle.

“Clever tactics from Deathbreath! Now, let me tell you about Murk's progress,” Noggin' continues, in a perfectly amicable tone. “Murk can be a little stubborn, but we've grown very close over the years, and he's super friendly. He trusts me to train him, and I trust him to carry me safely when I ride him. He's never bucked me off, and anyone who wants to feed him is welcome - he doesn't bite.”

Murk deftly avoids Deathbreath's acid droplets.

“Something we've worked on is his speed. He adores trotting in parks and unconstrained out in the Wastelands - which is a tale of exploits in itself. But as you can see, Murk's become quite the athlete since we entered the Championship in Zeta league!”

Deathbreath bounces a little too close, and Murk delivers a well-placed kick with a hindleg. Deathbreath catapults into a cairn of broken building pieces, and falls unconscious to the floor. Murk shakes his head, brown shaggy mane falling over his eyes, and trots up to the piece of wall closest to the commentators' box to stare up at his Trainer, Noggin'.

“Good boy!” shouts Noggin', and the pride in his voice causes claps and whoots from the audience.

“Commiserations to Chaser, congratulations to Noggin',” closes the commentator. “One last word from Noggin': a pitch, I believe.”

“Thank you for letting me speak! Very much appreciated! I hope you all enjoyed the match, and Chaser, let me shake your hand. I'm so proud of this rise, that can only be described as meteoric: ending the Season in Alpha Division - a truly phenomenal achievement.”

“Aaaaaand if you like that taster , everyone, make sure to grab you, your parents, your children, and your colleagues a copy of From Sandwiches To Glory: The Memoirs of Murk and Noggin'!”

The audience cheers.

“Okay fight fans, looks like the lights have come on just in time for tonight's matchup. Yep, I'm getting word from Dashboard, things are working - and we'll need them for this fight, just to keep up with everything that's going on!”

The Arena doors open on one end to reveal Pepper, jumping from side to side and baring her teeth. On the other, with far more mouths, is Experiment X.

“Saffron's in the stands, as are most of her fans - well, the ones that could fit into the Arena, at any rate! She's looking for a quick win for Pepper here, but standing just above her in the League standings, blocking her path to glory, is Teeth and his band of miniature giant lizards.”

The crowds in the Arena, mostly Saffron fans, cheer loudly as the referee starts the fight and the monsters set off their marks. Pepper almost immediately curls into a ball and rolls at top speed into the centre, while the many “miniature giant lizards” that comprise Experiment X flank around the outside.

“Looks like Pepper's taking no prisoners here as she barrels through several of the yapping hive, spikes out. And yes, that's a few of them down. But there are plenty more to go, and they're nipping at her heels! This won't be a walkover, for sure!”

One by one, Pepper gains some space and then pounces on isolated individual members of Experiment X. It's a slow but steady way of gaining ground, using her speed to stay away from reprisals.

“Looks like Teeth has got the lizards together at last. That should slow Pepper down a little - at least until Saffron can figure out how to have her attack the cluster all at once.”

Pepper withdraws for a while, looking for openings, while Saffron considers which approach to take. Teeth, meanwhile, is trying to corral his monster and stop strays from giving Pepper an opportunity. The two trainers are the picture of concentration as the crowd picks up some classic Saffron-fanbase chants.

“Now with Pepper hanging back and taking potshots, the horde are fending off spines with aplomb. Looks like Pepper is going to have to get in close to get any real damage done.”

Saffron shouts down to Pepper, who bursts forward at lightning speed, directly towards the pack, rolling into a spiny ball. The various giant miniature creatures in the swarm launch themselves towards her, hoping to overwhelm her and it looks for a moment as though she's being lizard-piled. The crowd gasp, fearing the worst, as she disappears beneath the swarm and the referee begins the count.

“IMMOLATE!”

The crowd cheers in response to Saffron's command, as a fireball bursts from under the collected forms of Experiment X, and bodies are flung flying across the Arena floor by the force of the burst.

“Well fight fans, there's not a lot of cleanup to do after that one! Only a few lizards left, and Saffron is chasing them down one by one - and that's it, Teeth is calling it a day, the referee's accepting this one - it's a win for Saffron and Pepper!”

The Arena erupts in cheering once more, and then abruptly stop as the Arena lights go out.

“Stand by, fight fans. We're just hearing that our hard-working Creative team are bringing in some changes! Looks like Trend has called for the rest of our fights tonight to take place under a old-school low tech Arena aesthetic. But never mind that for the moment - those flames that are illuminating Pepper right now from the flaming corpses are so so cool! Or, should I say, hot hot hot! Let's hear it for your winner! PEPPER!”

“And they're off! Maximus appears to have been given an upgrade – is that a gun? Ha, I wouldn't want to be facing off against that!”

Sure enough, while Maximus's trusty knife remains clutched in one hand, the other is wielding a pistol. Maximus aims it at Black Diamond.

BANG.

Maximus's rigid arm is jolted upwards to point at the upper levels of the stadium thanks to the recoil. Black Diamond blinks away just in time, and the impact of the bullet against the Arena wall leaves a slight dent.

Maximus looks terribly confused as he lowers his arm. Black Diamond appears a few metres away him, and Maximus attempts to fire again.

BANG.

Another jump away from the spot, another bullet bouncing off the reinforced Arena walls. Black Diamond materialises directly behind Maximus and–

The two disappear.

The audience sighs, expecting this to be yet another waiting game… but after barely five seconds, the pair reappear. Black Diamond makes several rapid hops away from Maximus and hovers on the spot on the other side of the Arena to him. Maximus aims again.

BANG.

This time, Black Diamond can't move away in time and it drops like a stone to the ground. Maximus waves his pistol in the air triumphantly as the Umpire announces his victory.

“Well, let's hope he gives that gun back, huh? On a related note, I'd suggest leaving your seats as soon as possible. That goes doubly for– ah, I see the recently-renamed Love's Curse stand is already mostly empty. Very sensible.”

“And they're off! Maximus appears to have been given an upgrade – is that a gun? Ha, I wouldn't want to be facing off against that!”

Sure enough, while Maximus's trusty knife remains clutched in one hand, the other is wielding a pistol. Maximus aims it at KREEPIEKUBE.

BANG.

Maximus's rigid arm is jolted upwards to point at the upper levels of the stadium thanks to the recoil. KREEPIEKUBE blinks away just in time, and the impact of the bullet against the Arena wall leaves a slight dent.

Maximus looks terribly confused as he lowers his arm. KREEPIEKUBE appears a few metres away him, and Maximus attempts to fire again.

BANG.

Another jump away from the spot, another bullet bouncing off the reinforced Arena walls. KREEPIEKUBE materialises directly behind Maximus and–

The two disappear.

The audience sighs, expecting this to be yet another waiting game… but after barely five seconds, the pair reappear. KREEPIEKUBE makes several rapid hops away from Maximus and hovers on the spot on the other side of the Arena to him. Maximus aims again.

BANG.

This time, KREEPIEKUBE can't move away in time and it drops like a stone to the ground. Maximus waves his pistol in the air triumphantly as the Umpire announces his victory.

“Well, let's hope he gives that gun back, huh? On a related note, I'd suggest leaving your seats as soon as possible. That goes doubly for– ah, I see the recently-renamed Love's Curse stand is already mostly empty. Very sensible.”

“Ooookay everyone, here is your favourite gelatinous feline, SLIME KITTY!”

Bright can be seen at the entrance to the Arena, letting Slime Kitty slide from her arms. Slime Kitty dashes forwards and Bright leaves, to appear in the Trainer's Box a moment later.

“We're just waiting on a dramatic entrance from Omega, everyone!”

There is a bit more waiting. There is drama going on with the staff inside the Commentators' Box.

“We've, ah, we've heard that Omega is not here, and we cannot find her Trainer anywhere, either. Bear with us, everyone, while we do another check - perhaps she's broken loose!”

A bit more waiting.

“Nope! Cannot find Omega, so unless she's been entered and is invisible - which would be awesome - let the fight COMMENCE!”

Slime Kitty looks around the Arena, and sits down. She sticks one leg straight up over her head and starts to lick her nether regions. The crowd laughs, and she looks up, still with her tongue out and leg vertical.

Slime Kitty continues to groom herself, in even stranger contortions than a regular cat, until the countdown ends.

“Turns out Omega was not invisible, just not here! Victory to SLIME KITTY!”

“And I can’t believe it! Spikeby wins! Spikeby wins! For the first time ever Spikeby wins a fight. I never thought I’d see the day. Trainer Muzzle is crying with pride. I would not have wanted to miss that one folks, the little bell that could making a shocking last stand in the final round of the season.”

“One has to wonder: how does the Vice Executive feel about this? I suppose she's very very busy now, and neglecting THE poor CAT. That was a bit of a pitiful new, haha. Still, I hope she thinks it's worth it to see the look on Muzzle's face. Heartwarming!”

“And Optizorb takes it! Thank goodness for our patented Archeotech sound dampeners. Can you even imagine what we’d do without Archeotech. Things are only getting better from here on out people, you mark my words. Tomorrow will be all fancy Archeotech and the electrification of the Bastion!”

“Hi everyone! Beam here. Today we have a shock gladiator match between rules lawyer Yarn and Dark Steel. I mean wow. I didn’t think I’d ever be reading that. For real. Yarn? Against Dark Steel. The Arena is packed today to see how this sudden change in career path plays out.”

“First into the Arena is Dark Steel, the terrible Titan that just recently won the Ultimate Survivor competition in a thrilling duel with Gladiator slash Monster Omega.”

The imposing figure makes its way into the Arena. The crowd goes wild for the Monster. On the Trainer’s platform Blade stands unmoved by the people’s adoration, but this only makes them want him more.

“Next Up, let’s give a big UMBA welcome for first time Gladiator Yarn!”

That gets a decent laugh from the audience.

They smile, and there voice booms out over the speakers. “I said I could win this fight blindfolded.”

That gets a decent laugh from the audience.

They wave the duster dramatically in the air.

“Now the key to making it big as a gladiator, I recon, is to have a strong brand - and nobody seems to have done this yet, so…”

More laughs.

“Is Noggin in the audience today? I’d love to give a shout out to my favourite rival. Unfortunately I was getting tired of winning and I figured it would only be fair to have the additional handicap of fighting for my life while I argued.”

“Ha, ” Noggin yells from the crowd. “I think this suits you better Yarn. Down there you might even find a Monster dumb enough to listen to you!”

The crowd giggles at the banter.

“Now, I know a lot of people are saying I’m a terrible murderer, me! See, here’s the thing.”

Everybody waits for the punchline.

“I am. See remember when Blaze was murdered? Freak accident, right? No. Premeditated murder. I knew. Mesh? Who defended him, who got him Metrovore in the first place? Me. ”

Murmuring starts amongst the audience.

“Oh and it doesn’t stop there. I nearly killed one of my Monsters, having them drink briquid to prove a point. That’s not to mention selling them, and almost convincing their new owner to put them down. And the other, a poor innocent baby that didn’t know any better, was sent careening down the streets of Bastion and almost ended up in the Arena because of me!”

Yarn take a few steps towards Dark Steel. Then a few more. They come within a stride of the Monster. It inclines it’s head ever so slightly to look down at them. An imposing tower of blades.

“Do you have any idea how these Monsters suffer. These poor intelligent, sensitive creatures.” You reach out to touch it. “They feel pain, and fear, and sadness just like any human.”

“And it's you who make it this way.” You let your voice drop to a deadly whisper. “You come to this Arena, you perpetuate this cycle of abuse. You buy their tickets, and their popcorn and their merch, and with every Kyat you fund the torture of these poor creatures.”

Their hand inches closer to Dark Steel.

“Wake up people and see the Machine they’ve built, you’re turning the handle just by being here, and it chews up people and Monsters and Human-Monsters and spits them out in bloody little pieces. How can you call this entertainment? ”

A hair's breadth away.

“Don’t be like me. Don’t support this. Don’t take part in this. You’re what gives them power. Don’t you see, you can stop all of this, all you have to do is take your Kyat elsewhere. Just tell them that this has to change!”

They lay a hand against Dark Steel’s cold metal chest. The crowd waits breathlessly.

Dark Steel shimmers in front of them and reappears behind them, sword suddenly drawn.. Along Yarn’s midsection a red line slowly appears. They look up at the crowd confused before trying to turn back to Dark Steel, where the momentum carries their torso toppeling from their legs into the ground, a pool of blood rapidly spreading around the bisected rules lawyer.

The crowd is speechless. Looks of horror play across every face. Not one of the tens of thousands of spectators says anything.

“I..” Beam stammers. “I.. uh.. I…” Another voice comes over the microphone, an older harder voice. “Dark Steel wins, please give our victor a round of applause. Commiserations to our fallen Gladiator Yarn.”

Then, perhaps by sheer force of habit, people begin to clap. The looks of horror don’t leave their faces. The clapping isn’t loud, or enthusiastic. It’s mechanical. Conditioned. A match has ended and you clap. That’s just what you do. That’s what you’ve always done.

Struggling without his usual mic setup, the commentator struggles to make himself heard over the - slightly nervous - chatter of the crowds.

The light is dimmed, shades drawn over the Arena to cut out the sunlight that would usually filter in; and the low light levels force the audience into the front rows to be able to see. Whether this is a deliberate decision by Creative, no-one's entirely sure, but it may well have been - the extra incentive is necessary, it turns out, to get anyone to sit near the front. Especially in the “Love's Curse” stands - which are almost deserted, discounts not withstanding. No-one wants to get too close to Dark Steel with the Arena archaeotech out of commission - no-one wants to get too close to Dark Steel full stop.

With the audience so on edge; scattered yelps and squeaks break out across the stands when, into the dimness, the rumble of thunder rolls across the Arena (they quiet as the audience notice the Arena sound technician banging a large sheet of iron with a mallet).

There's the sound of a revving engine, then a single beam of light plays across the Arena - the Nyoominator's headlamp, as it dashes in, pulling up into a wheelie and spinning on its back tire. The audience cheer.

The 'thunder' rumbles again, and Dark Steel makes his entrance, looming out of the shadows. He raises his sword in salute to Nyoominator. The bike drops out of its wheelie, bobbing its handlebars/head in a semblance of a bow.

The fight begins.

The Nyoominator darts and weaves around the Arena, frantically dodging Dark Steel's attacks. It is visibly outclassed from the beginning, though, and can't land an attack of its own without Dark Steel blinking out of its way. It's clearly only a matter of time before Dark Steel lands a solid hit and puts the Nyoominator out of the fight, or the Nyoominator simply gets too tired to carry on.

Then, there's a piercing whistle from the stands, and the Nyoominator pivots, dashing towards the noise.

Sprocket vaults down into the Arena, colourful scarves streaming behind hir, and lands standing on Nyoominator's saddle. Ze waves up at the crowd, and shouts “Follow me!”

From the large front pocket of hir stained dungarees, ze pulls out a folded piece of cloth, shakes it out, and ties it on to the back of Nyoominator, so it flaps out when the Monster starts moving, revealing the words “FOLLOW THIS MONSTER” in large, hand-painted hot pink letters.

Dark Steel, who has paused, head cocked in what looks like a mixture of intrigue and confusion, nods decisively to himself, and attacks again once Sprocket is settled on Nyoominator's back.

Monster and trainer dodge and duck around the Arena, in a blur of movement interspersed with sick tricks, making their way past Dark Steel to a shadowy corner of the Arena wall. Sprocket leans off the saddle to kick open a concealed door, and the two zip through it, Sprocket calling back over hir shoulder: “Come on out!”

There is murmuring and muttering in the stands; and a few people climb to their feet, moving towards the exits to see where Sprocket has gone. More soon follow, until about half the audience has left the Arena, looking for Sprocket.

“Aaaaand, here we are, folks: today, we see a box of gears go up against a birthday cake! What an auspicious day for Arena history… Oops - the southmost candle lighting the Arena appears to have burnt out! Can I get someone to - thanks, perfect.” The commentator pauses. “Anyway, here we go! Fight begin!”

Doughball comes hopping out into the Arena, cakey jaws slavering jam. Gearbox toddles out into the centre too, its mechanical contents clattering.

“Well, everyone, it looks like it's going to be a slow star- oh my everloving SKIES, would you look at that! Gearbox has lasers!”

Sure enough, Gearbox sends a laser beam shooting out at Doughball. Caught in a volley of shots, Doughball has nothing to do but be hit -

- there is a sudden burst of brilliant light, and the sweet scent of baking suffuses the Arena -

Once the blaze clears, Doughball is no longer a cake. Instead, it appears to have become bigger, stronger, more - squareish…

“Would you look at that! Doughball appears to have evolved into a gingerbread house!”

Doughball is indeed now a large, armoured gingerbread house. Spun sugar glistens at its windows. Royal icing drips from the chocolatey tiled roof. Hard candy cane reinforcements glitter in abundance.

Unfortunately, one of the laser beams appears to have torn through one of its windows. The crowd watches in dismay as the house jumps up - only to topple unconscious to the floor.

“Looks like that's a win for Gearbox, folks!”

“It looks like Friendly Fire is all alone in the Arena as this time Pork Scratchings hasn't even shown up to the fight! SPAM really are taking things a step to far, but yes, I suppose at this disappointing stage in our Arena lit only by that tiny fireball, Friendly Fire wins by default!”

The Arena, lit by large magnified lanterns, is covered with Maximum Taste advertising for what by all accounts will be the deciding fight in what many are calling the Maximum Taste Double Team Championship. Miniature Maximum Taste Monster Houses and honourary Doughball Gingerbread Houses constructed lovingly by Creative Department and the “low-tech Arena” team, now that Archaeotech is banned from the Arena thanks to Creative's new ruling, pepper the floor of the Arena, and the gigantic Monster House logo is once again painted on the floor.

Team Legit, complete in their now iconic orange costumes, make their way into the Arena to their seats, mirrored on the opposite side by the evil Heavy Metal, before the commentator takes to the audio, using an enormous cone welded out of sheet iron and held up on a small stand in order to be heard.

“Good evening Arena fans!” comes the faint voice of Unfiltered, “Are you ready for this, the decider, in the Season Thirty Six Double Team Championship between Team Legit-”

The crowd's cheering erupts louder than the Commentator can speak over, the sounds of “SEEMS LEGIT! SEEMS LEGIT!” and “It's always a good time for a Monster House!” filling the Arena for a minute before Unfiltered can continue.

“and Heavy Metal!”

The cheering and wink-wink booing fills the Arena again, the bassiness of the mock disapproval of a team beloved by many in the fans echoing out despite the lack of technological enhancement.

“Both teams are close to the top of the table, so let's let those Monsters into the stadium. From the North Gate: Shrapnel and Longbow!”

The Gate opens and out walks the Swimsuit Champion Shrapnel, in her Monster Bow as always, and painted in Monster House colours. She waves, whereas her lumbering companion does not. Longbow, enormous and gargantuan in size, squeezes its enormous beaked head through the gate before pulling itself through and the stonework apart, the new but fantastic giant metallic beak filled with teeth, topped with a red eye being brought to its full height of “just below the Arena Height Limit” as it climbs to its feet, its green scales taking up half of the floor.

“and… from the South Gate,” Unfiltered continues, as fans continue to gawk at New Longbow, “Heavy Metal!”

A more familiar team emerge, with Mechagraviton swooping out in its orange and red paint job, and Dark Steel walking out, cool and calm as ever, stopping occasionally to glare at fans before standing, motionless next to its partner in the Arena.

“Right, as ever, two teams enter, only one will come out victorious. Points for style and Maximum Taste endorsement are still available. So, without further ado, LET. BATTLE. COMMENCE!”

There's an enormous roar as Longbow lumbers forward, and Mechagraviton immediately flies up to start peppering the creature with grenades from its mounted grenade launchers. Longbow does not enjoy this, and swings for Mechagraviton, narrowly missing the commentary box. Dark Steel unsheathes a sword, and then looks up at Longbow and stamps its foot on the ground twice. It's quiet, but Longbow notices and looks down.

Dark Steel then does the remarkable: it puts its palm out in a STOP gesture, and… Longbow stops.

Transfixed, the audience falls silent as the gargantuan monstrosity stops and watches Dark Steel, like a Monster to a Trainer. Mechagraviton falters, unsure if this is part of the plan, and even Shrapnel is confused. Dark Steel then holds out that same hand, and firmly points downward. “Sit”, but surely not-

Longbow sits. With an Arena shaking THUD, Longbow sits on the Arena floor and sits still. The crowd are speechless, and Mechagraviton takes advantage of the moment to fling Shrapnel against the Arena wall, knocking out the other half of Team Legit as Longbow just… sits there…

Dark Steel watches, patiently, as if listening as the Commentator calls, “Seven… Eight… Nine… Ten! That's… that's it? That's it! Mechagraviton and Dark Steel WIN against Team Legit, in a display of… well, something absolutely chilling. Mechagraviton flies around, letting off victory grenades, and the style points are in… confirming that, yes, Heavy Metal ARE THIS SEASON'S DOUBLE TEAM CHAMPIONS. What that means given both already have a title is up for debate by Creative, but… gosh look he's still standing there…”

Dark Steel is still standing there, glaring around at the Arena fans. He gives a show of his swords, twirling them around, and when Mechagraviton comes back in from a flying pass, they perform DARKNESS FALLS to celebrate, and to please the fans, while Longbow is dragged out of the Arena, seemingly confused.

The audience leave… amazed. And, for some part, mildly disturbed by a Monster that could… seemingly tame other Monsters???

“Welcome everyone to the ULTIMATE MONSTER BATTLE ARENA! Beam here. Today we have a battle of two of the great titans of the heavyweight league: Hard As Nails versus Mechagraviton!”

“First into the Arena, the first sock based Monster to make it into Alpha since Sock-It-To-Em’s ill fated run in thirty three’, Hard As Nails! ”

The pale blue sock Monster slithers into the Arena and the crowd goes wild. The light glint of it’s shiny button eyes and it rears up appreciatively, earning it even more applause.

“Next into the Arena, now the only robo-reptile in the league, Mechagraviton!”

One gate opens and Mechagraviton soars out above the Arena. The crowd applauds as it does a circle of the Arena, falling horizontally across the sky.

Someone stands up in the audience and is handed a microphone. “Um, isn’t that shoulder mounted grenade launcher Archeotech? Hasn’t that just been banned?”

“Come on,” you yell. “Anyone could make a grenade launcher. I could make a grenade launcher.” The umpire and Crash confer for a moment.

“It’s not Archeotech!” the umpire yells.

“But what about the grenades…” they start, but are drowned out by the screams of the crowd as Hard as Nails catapults itself with lightning speed into the sky. The crowd gasp with the sudden dramatic reversal of Mechagraviton’s advantage.

The sock sails head first through the sky towards Mechagraviton. Mechagraviton’s wheel begins to spin behind it’s back but it reacts far too slow. Hard As Nails begins to wrap itself around the head of the Mechadragon. The two tumble through the sky, suspended by Mechagraviton’s gravity powers. There is the sound of creaking metal and Mechagraviton roars in pain as it’s armour plating begins to bend and buckle under the awesome force Hard As Nails exerts.

There is the glint of lights off Mechagraviton’s knife-like wings. They scythe out and into the sock, trailing threads of pale blue yarn. Hard As Nails screams, a piercing unholy sound, and is forced to disentangle itself from Mechagraviton, which trails sparks from busted servos and exposed wires. The turret on its back swivels to face the sock at point blank range.

There is a cacophonous boom, and the two Monsters disappear in a cloud of sparks and flame which shower down to the Arena Floor. The two monsters scream but don’t break their engagement in the air. A second boom sends a rain of hissing acid through the Arena. There are four more booms as grenades sail into the crowd. Viewers in the North stands scream as fire and spitting acid rain amongst them.

Hard As Nails coils and springs off Mechagraviton but being caught on it’s metal wings sends them both careening down to the ground.

The sock Monster wrenches itself free of Mechagraviton’s dagger-like wings, trailing threads from a hundred wounds as it roll along the ground, extinguishing the flame. Mechagraviton slowly gets to its feet. It’s normally angular metal features have sloughed, becoming smooth as if meted. There is the sound of sizzling as the residual chemical continue to eat away at its hide.

Hard As Nails begins to coil for a spring back towards Mechagraviton, but as it is about to push off it begins to float up into the air. Acid and purple sparks spit off Mechagraviton’s wheel as it spins furiously on its back. The dragon’s eyes glow with energy and terrible fury. The Sock is lifted a half dozen meters into the sky, and then slams into the ground. Again and again.

It takes a long time for the Sock to submit, but eventually the slamming stops and the Umpire calls the match. The crowd goes wild. The metal dragon collapses not long after, and Network medics rush in to see to the Monsters. The match reviews put it at one of the closest and most dramatic fights in the whole season.

The final stages of Arena setup are wrapping up as the audience settle in. The Arena floor is covered with an array of carefully arranged mirrors, propped up on plywood frames weighed down with sandbags to create a complex labyrinth. Before the fight begins, set-dressers dash around, readjusting the mirrored flats to catch the sunlight, making up for the lack of artificial lighting in the Arena by ensuring the mirrors are aligned to reflect light back and forth throughout the warren of passages. There are two entrances to the maze, by each of the competitor's pen entrances; and the last few set-dressers duck out via Strike's pen just before the Monsters are released.

For once, the seats closest to the ring are the most sparsely occupied, with fans congregating in the higher rows, where they can look down into the maze.

Victory Viper dashes into the maze, weaving rapidly through the maze. Reflected sunlight shimmers brilliantly off its gleaming body as it rushes forward. Strike, slower and less confident, runs in to his entrance, pausing at each junction and turning before making a decision as to where to go.

The speed differential means they meet far closer to Strike's entrance. Viper rears up, bringing its tail around to slap at Strike. Strike, meanwhile, swings his axe. He's awkward in the confined quarters, and Viper dodges easily, tail curling around his legs to pull him off-balance. Strike catches himself against one of the mirrors, which sways briefly before righting itself.

He brings his axe around again, swinging hard at Victory Viper, who twists out of the way. The axe whistles past the snake's face. The crowd, peering down into the mirror maze from above, cheer. Viper lashes out again, knocking Strike into a wall - cracks spider-web across the surface of the mirror as he hits it. He bounces back upright, and swings the axe again - a vicious upward slice towards Victory Viper's throat. Viper rears back in time to avoid having its throat cut, but only barely, and blood begins oozing from the cut scored by the axe.

It's clear that Strike isn't playing around, and as he swings the axe again, Victory Viper turns tail and flees into the maze. Strike gives chase, but Viper is much, much faster, and has quickly drawn several turns ahead, leaving Strike lost in the maze.

The audience watch the chase with bated breath - there may be no violence, but it's a long, drawn-out, tense hunting match now. Strike stalks his prey through the maze, listening for the sounds of Victory Viper's passage and struggling to weave his way through the maze towards it. Viper relies on its speed, always a few steps ahead of Strike, weaving through the labyrinth with ever-increasing confidence as it learns the ground.

Time ticks on; the afternoon sun sinking in the sky and sending dazzling golden light flashing from the mirrored walls - a fact Viper manages to use, angling so that the light catches Strike in the eyes, blinding him for long enough for Viper to make another narrow escape. The snake needs every trick in its book, though, and every advantage its rapid memorization of the twists and turns of the labyrinth can give it - while Strike is still going strong, if increasingly frustrated, Victory Viper is showing signs of fatigue, flagging and slowing as the long chase takes its toll.

Finally, Strike gives up on running the maze as intended - hearing Victory Viper move on the other side of a wall, he swings his axe into the mirror, smashing it and diving straight through, ignoring the cuts the mirror splinters leave on him. He lands in a roll, coming up to face Victory Viper, who tries to flee. It's no longer fast enough to escape Strike, though, who manages to corner it in a cul-de-sac Viper had clearly been intending to avoid.

Viper manages to dodge the first swing of the axe, but it's slow enough now that it can't get out of the way of the next swing, a vicious sweep of the axe with all of Strike's frustration at the long, drawn-out chase behind it.

The axe comes down, and Victory Viper's severed head rolls across the floor. Blood spatters up the mirrored walls surounding the two fighters.

There's a moment's silence, then - just before the crowd drown the sound out with cheering - Zephyr can be heard wailing despairingly from the sidelines.

“LET BATTLE COMMENCE!!!”

The Hedgehog, not perceiving Giant Block of Wood as a threat, prowls the Arena, seemingly assuming the match hasn't started yet. The cardboard signs held by the Arena fans count down Giant Block's inevitable defeat: eight… nine… when suddenly a spiral of sawdust shoots out from inside the block and boops the Hedgehog on the nose and darts back in again.

The Hedgehog whirls around, disgruntled and confused, but still only sees the Giant Block of Wood. Nine seconds pass and another whirl of sawdusts boops the mighty hog. The prickly particular spins around but still no enemy emerges for it. It prowls perturbed until nine more seconds pass, and a third dusty arm boops the Hedgehog.

THIS time, the Hedgehog is fast enough and it catches Giant Block of Wood's mischief. Enraged, it screeches an almighty battlescreech and charges into Giant Block of Wood, rolling into it at top speed and impaling the Giant Block of Wood on its spines. It rights itself, then looks around, confused, with Giant Block of Wood held above it.

The crowd, laugh, and the Hedgehog gets angrier and angrier but cannot locate the cause of their amusement. It runs around, and Giant Block of Wood bobs merrily above it for a good while until eventually the Hedgehog collapses to the ground, exhausted, with Giant Block of Wood on top. It gives a quick wave of a sawdust tendril to show it's alive, before, somehow, being declared VICTORIOUS.

The Arena has been decorated in honour of the two great opponents clashing this evening. The low-tech Arena team have worked tirelessly bolting together hoops and setting them ablaze to create a circus ring aesthetic that also complements Pepper. It's a really strong aesthetic, with small static fires set around the place too that must have taken true genius from the low-tech Arena team to work out.

“Welcome Arena Fans!” Unfiltered calls through a metal cone, “To this decisive Lightweight Fight in which THE TENT faces Pepper! Both of these Monsters are seriously formidable opponents, trained by seriously formidable trainers, so this should be a match for the records! In the Arena already, is THE TENT!”

The crowds cheer, “TENT TENT TENT TENT!” and the Arena buzzes with excitement as the lights on THE TENT flash around the Arena.

“And coming from the South Gate, it's PEPPER!”

The South Gates open and there's a rabid snarl as Pepper CHARGES into the Arena, heading straight for THE TENT as if the fight has already started. The commentator is confused, and quickly shouts, “LET BATTLE COMMENCE” just before an angry ball of white fur and aggression reaches THE TENT and starts ripping it to shreds with vicious teeth and claws.

Except… THE TENT falls apart almost immediately. The canvas falls away trivially, and Pepper barrels inside to land on what looks like a damp sponge which launches her, and the canvas tangle, into the air. Damp and confused, Pepper angrily tries to disentangle herself from the canvas and the sponge, when suddenly a shadow looms from behind her: THE TENT appears from nowhere - the REAL TENT, not this fake tent - and launches itself at Pepper. Pepper, tangled, just about gets free as THE TENT's maw encloses her, and there's a blue arc of electrical energy as THE TENT zaps its prey.

But then there's a burst of fire, and THE TENT coughs, spitting out Pepper, her fur metallic smooth and rippling with the arcs of blue electricity of the energy attack she just deflected.

“OOoh, bad luck THE TENT, it looks like Pepper's signature ENERGY RESISTANCE has saved her from a toothsome fate!”

Panicking, THE TENT attempts to reconceal itself trying to have Pepper lose it behind the remains of the fake tent, but Pepper is too smart to be tricked now. THE TENT swings its lamps down to hypnotise her, but a shout from the stands from Saffron and she curls herself into a ball and hurls herself, flaming and spinning toward THE TENT. THE TENT dodges out of the way, practice with Pennythrift's other Monster, Wreckatar, clearly paying off, but Pepper pushes the advantage. With THE TENT wrong-footed, she launches a barrage of flaming spines from her back into THE TENT, piercing its thin canvas. THE TENT attempts to hypnotise her again, but Pepper is already launching her second barrage, and THE TENT starts to falter, its fabric on fire and Pepper's assault relentless.

THE TENT's surprise advantage has been lost, and even with Pepper having to dodge hypnosis attempts, it can't handle her immense speed and wits, and soon falls.

“PEPPER IS VICTORIOUS!” shouts Unfiltered, but Pepper doesn't stop. She hurls herself into a ball and smashes through the scenery, and then launches herself into the SOUTH STANDS, freshly renamed “Love's Curse” and starts throwing herself at the spectators. Her razor sharp teeth sink into flesh of fans and Arena staff alike and blood flows, splattering her gorgeous white fur with dark red.

She's fast, faster than anaesthetic darts can fly, but when one hits her, it doesn't even stop her. Fans run, screaming, this way and that, but nothing seems to be able to sate Pepper's bloodlust driven rampage. Arms are ripped from sockets, throats crushed between those killer jaws, and the stands set ablaze by her fiery fury. There's nothing that can be done but to evacuate - even Saffron, whose attempts to calm Pepper are met with rabid indifference - and eventually the entire Arena is sent fleeing as Pepper is eventually confined to a deserted bowl, where she can feast on the flesh of her fallen victims.

“I guess the fate wasn’t on Tick’s side today. What a way to pluck victory from the jaws of defeat. Eh, eh?“

The crowd roars, “THAT'S THE JOKE,” before someone else gets up and shouts, “THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE,” and the commentator is seen quickly bundled from the microphone by Creative Humour Enforcement.

“Dearest audience, welcome to THE ULTIMATE SHOW TONIGHT WITH DECIBEL, sponsored by Tatters Trading Industry! I, as always, am your adoring host - but I'm not really the star of the show, am I?”

Decibel's Fans protest loudly. Decibel smirks and rolls their eyes, flapping a hand at the audience in a half-hearted attempt to stop the flattery.

“Well, alright. You might have a point. But still, what I mean to say is that THE ULTIMATE SHOW would be nothing without the lovely people who take the time to be interviewed! So, I'd like you all to put your hands together and give a very warm welcome to this episode’s extra special guests…”

The lights illuminating Decibel on the stage swing out and sweep over the crowd.

“That's right, dear audience! Tonight’s special guest… is you! Tonight, I'll be interviewing a few lucky audience members about their favourite moments from this Season! Sound good?”

Wild applause. Decibel basks in it for a moment before taking a seat. The spotlights swing back to focus on them and the purple butterfly Monster hovering beside them.

“So, let's get started, shall we? If you look under your seats, some of you should have an envelope tucked underneath… if you're one of those lucky few – aha! I'm seeing envelopes being waved in the air! Come and join me on stage, won't you?”

Eight starstruck Fans clamber out of their seats and up the aisle, where an assistant helps them up onto the stage. They all take a seat near Decibel, who smiles radiantly at each of them in turn and asks for their names. Once the introductions are over:

“Welcome, all of you! Tell me, how does it feel to be live on the set of THE ULTIMATE SHOW? Don't be shy, now!”

Nervous laughter from most of the audience members on stage. One Fan, an enthusiastic woman by the name of Folio, matches Decibel’s grin and confidently states that “It's like a dream come true!”

“Well, that's what I'm here for – and more importantly, that's what Monster battling is here for! Now, Swivel,” they say, turning to the man on their left, “have you been able to watch any dreams-made-reality this Season? Any Fights that you were particularly impressed by?”

Swivel thinks for a moment. “Well, I've always been a fan of those last-minute victories, you know? Where everything looks like it's over and then the underdog pulls out all the stops to win. Remember Pepper vs Gearbox? We all thought Pepper got wrecked by those lasers, but she kept on fighting! Or Diamon vs Grey! Smart trap from Grey, cool finishing move from Diamon! And Tick vs Titch! The strategies from both of them… amazing!”

“Okay, okay,” says Chance, a man in an impressively beaten-up jacket, “but what about all those matches where it just came down to brute strength? Do you remember Doomigator vs Mechagraviton? Or Footsie vs Nyoominator? Or Team Legit vs Team Slime… damn, Shrapnel did a great job managing all the tough competitors in that fight. All the narrative stuff can be fun to watch, but sometimes you just want to see… well, really cool Monsters hitting each other.”

“Ha!” calls a young woman by the name of Dolour. “You go for the fights? I go for the drama. Like Beetle Circus vs Heavy Metal! Yarn and Noggin really went all out for that one! And, like, Omega vs Bulwark at the start of the Season… oh, I remember hearing people talk about that speech Omega gave for weeks afterwards! Ooh, and the Commentator snark at the end of Murk vs MonoChrome was magnificent!”

Decibel turns back to Folio. “What about you, Folio? Any stand-out fights you’d like to highlight?”

“Decibel,” Folio says, clasping her hands together, “I’m so glad you asked! The best part of this Season has been the narrative. The complexity. The EMOTION. Look at Thorn vs Dozer, for example. The witty insults! The poorly-concealed feelings! And what about Nyoomie vs Giant Block of Wood? I still ship it! And speaking of Giant Block of Wood, remember its fight against Friendly Fire? The speech Arch gave about loving and protecting Monsters… I'm not ashamed to say I cried!”

A young man who introduced himself as Obscure (“by name and by nature!”) chimes in. “Oh, but what about all the weird stuff we’ve been treated to? Pepper vs Omnisquid – which was so bizarre that even the match transcript made no sense – and then Maximus had a go, and then Jaws of Defeat had a go! Oh, and remember what THE CAT did to that Commentator in its fight with Doughball?!”

A woman named Elan raises her hand. “Alright, but can I make a case for how much effort some of these Trainers have put into style? We could go all the way back to the Dance-Off between Little Thread, Rollerpedes and Victory Viper… or the amazing amount of preparation behind Dark Steel vs KRYSTALKORPION… oh, and the choreography in Rollerpedes vs Doughball! And how could we forget the work that went into that maze set-up for Deathbreath vs Pepper?”

“Seconded,” says Tenet, the Fan sitting to the right of Decibel. “But let’s pay some tribute to our Gladiators, though! We’ve already mentioned Omega’s speech, but can we talk about how impressive it was to watch her fight alongside Angler against Team Doomstorm? The tactics the pair of them pulled off were incredible. Strike put up a great fight against THE TENT too… And it was a joy to watch Square Peg show off her Monster-handling skills when she stepped in during Pork Scratchings vs Basilica!”

Decibel, sensing that the time on this segment is running short, turns to the final Fan on stage. “Well, I’d say we’ve covered pretty much everything there is to love about this Season, but is there anything else you’d like to add, Vision?”

Vision crosses her arms. “Yep. You all missed the most important one.”

“Oh? Do elaborate.”

“Cats.”

“…Cats?”

“Listen. UMBA always needs more cats. Didn't you see Slime Kitty vs Jaws of Defeat? Or MonoChrome vs Slime Kitty? What’s the point of Arena battles if they’re not so cute I want to steal the Monsters right out of the Arena and wuzz their little fluffy and/or slimy heads?”

Decibel laughs and lets Jinx settle into their lap. “As someone who owns one of the cutest Monsters in the world, point taken. But unfortunately, I think that may be all we have time for! To all of you who have taken part in this Season, a round of applause!”

A standing ovation from the Fans, Trainers and reporters in the crowd. Decibel and the Fans on stage join in, and the applause continues long after the curtain falls.