Rei opened his eyes and knew, immediately, something was wrong.
Why?
Because he smelled lava. Also—he was chained to a wooden pole suspended over a pit of boiling sulfur, with a sign above his head that read:
GRAND PRIZE: CATCH THE GROOM
In flame-forged script. To his left, a paper mâché cutout of him smiled with a thumbs-up. To his right, a volcano.
And in front of him, surrounded by thirty-foot dragon-wing banners and cheering fire-worshipping fans, stood the architect of this insanity:
"WELCOME TO DRAKANA'S BOOTH!" the dragon-girl roared, tail swishing with unholy glee. "THIS YEAR'S FESTIVAL GAME IS CALLED—CATCH! THE! GROOM!"
The crowd screamed in delight. Mostly terrified and a little turned on.
Rei stared down at his restraints, then at Drakana, then at the 50-foot obstacle course of flaming hoops, collapsing platforms, geysers, and what looked like an enchanted lava shark swimming in a moat of pain.
"…Is this OSHA-approved?" Rei mumbled.
