Free Arena Mode by Blake Northcott Page A

to the fact that a number of athletes – thirteen in this instance – will be competing against each other simultaneously, in a single-elimination format.
    2) Refrain from using the term ‘fight’ altogether. If two competitors are battling, this is to be referred to as an ‘engagement’.
    3) Remind people of the ‘tap out’ option. If a competitor is injured and wishes to exit the tournament, they can retire. This can be done by verbally surrendering at any of the medical stations (which will be accessible at various locations throughout The Arena) as well as at both bridges that lead off the island.
    4) There will be no engagement during medical intervention. If a competitor is receiving care, other players are forbidden from attacking them for the duration of their treatment. Making contact with an athlete while they are inside a designated medical zone will result in a disqualification.
    5) There are no corporate sponsorships. To preserve the integrity of the tournament, no logos or company names are to be worn on the athlete’s attire.
    6) No personal weapons are allowed. A variety of firearms, explosives and bladed weapons will be available for use inside The Arena. To maintain a level playing field the competitors are not permitted to bring their own armaments into the tournament.
    7) There is to be no excessive use of violence. If a competitor dies during an engagement, no additional damage to their corpse will be accepted. Decapitation, evisceration, flaying, and other forms of mutilation are frowned upon, and could result in a verbal warning and/or fine.
    8) The golden rule is ‘sportsmanship’. Foul language, obscene gestures, and revealing attire will not be tolerated. The tournament is a family viewing event, and all athletes are to act accordingly.

    Cameron Frost
     
    As I finished reading (and signing) the memo, we’d already begun our descent, touching down quietly on the hover-pad at the top of Frost Tower. The officer stepped out first, repeating his thorough security check. After searching the perimeter, he motioned to the pilot, indicating that the coast was clear, and we filed out onto the circular tarmac.
    At the pinnacle of America’s tallest structure, the air was cooler and the wind was stronger than I’d expected. The panoramic view of Manhattan was spectacular; an endless array of glittering lights scattered across the island, converging to form a powerful spotlight that stretched into the clouds. I could see as far north as Times Square, where a spectrum of neon blinked and danced in the distance. It was in stark contrast with the surrounding area. Across the river, the significantly dimmer lights that emitted from The Fringe paled in comparison, and gradually faded to an inky blackness that consumed the Dark Zone.
    Officer Dziobak tapped my shoulder, indicating it was time to go. He ushered me down a long narrow ramp that led to a steel door. He pulled it open after inserting his gold card and ushered me inside with a friendly wave. “This is the end of the line for me,” he said with a firm handshake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
    The officer slammed the door behind me, and for a moment I stood in complete darkness. I must have tripped a motion sensor, because the long, narrow hall began to illuminate. One by one, a series of wall-mounted torches burst to life, lining the length of the corridor. It felt as if I was exploring a secret underground pathway located beneath a castle, and no architectural detail had been neglected.
    The firelight flickered dramatically off the dark stone walls, highlighting a countless number of paintings. The gallery must have been worth as much as the building I was standing in. Ambling past the iconic pieces that I recognized but couldn’t name, I arrived at an equally iconic series of comic books towards the end of the hall, mounted in protective glass cases. His collection put mine to shame; mint-condition first issues of the most