He was here to measure.
The venue was half-buried, an old dome ring that used to run drift simulations for early cadets. They'd gutted the tracking glyphs, left the projection pads, and renamed it The Echo Cage. Ugly name. Loud name. It fit.
He stepped past two security glyphs at the entrance. Neither pinged. His system stayed dark, folded in like a fist. No rank tag. No spell ID. Just that quiet SSS-class hum buried behind a system used to hiding.
Inside?
Noise.
Not loud. But constant.
Flickering screens showed looped fight footage. A low rumble from the commentary booth rolled through the floor like mana tremor.
Dozens of bodies moved in the space, some in armor, some in off-brand gear, most somewhere between style and survival.
Lucen kept his eyes low.
Not submissive. Just curious.
