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The cage drops around us before I can breathe.
Sloane's already moving. Blade up, feet wide, that same smile she wore when she shoved me into the chair. The crowd's screaming so loud the floor shakes. Every light in the arena swings down and locks on us like we're specimens under glass.
I don't have a weapon. I have Nox.
And Nox is awake.
It peels off the wall behind me, black and fluid and wrong. Bigger than it's ever been. The edges don't hold anymore. They leak. Smoke curls off it, thick enough I taste metal on my tongue.