The Silence Before the Storm
The battlefield was quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that calmed the nerves—the kind that gnawed at them.
A suffocating, eerie silence.
There was no banter, no pre-fight taunts, no forced bravado.
Just two fighters staring each other down, both knowing that this battle wouldn't be about raw strength—it would be about who controlled reality first.
The announcer's voice sliced through the tension, carrying across the massive arena.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS MATCH IS A DUEL OF TACTICAL SUPREMACY!"
Massive screens lit up, the fighters' names flashing in bold, commanding letters.
"ON ONE SIDE—THE MASTER OF THE BLADE! THE SURGEON OF MOTION! THE ONE WHO DICTATES THE FLOW OF BATTLE—RIVEN KAEL!"
The crowd roared, admiration thick in the air.
Riven wasn't just a fighter—he was a system, a force operating on absolute precision, leaving nothing to chance.
