The ululation of the beastly Fenrir, a sleek and glossy three-wheeled motorbike, roars outside the Arena. It stops in front of the entry way with its goggled rider. Its automatous grumble is silenced as soon as the ignition is turned off. With his right leg swinging over Fenrir, the man dismounts the swarthy vehicle. Though before making into the Arena, this man with hair done in a spiky coiffure, equips himself. He pushes the mechanism to opens two hatches flanking the motorbike. They are internal compartments that houses six auxiliary swords in each slot. The erstwhile SOLDIER unsheathes the brands and assemble them together like puzzle pieces. This tight knit collection of steel is known as the First Tsurugi. It's an umbrella moniker that denotes to every sword as a unit. Now he's ready to head into the battle ring where many loses and triumphs are held.

Xukhezur was seated in the stands, just behind the retaining wall of the arena's fighting pit, when he heard the motorbike pull up and subsequently spotted its rider appear just outside the entry gate to the flighting floor. Donned in an unremarkable dark gray hooded cloak, worn over his protomorphic jump suit and other attire, he stood up and walked the perimeter of the fighting pit whilst appraising the entering warrior. As he drew within fourty yards, he took to examining this man for any magical auras that might limn his person or gear, by means of the magesight goggles he wore.

"Looking or waiting for someone in particular?" he inquired of the man, from a position about five yards above the sand, from the edge of the stands overlooking the opening of the entry tunnel.

The gaian hero known as Kuraudo Sutoraifu reaches to gate's margent. Though in his path, as if waiting for him or anyone, a stranger nears him. He lays an inquistition upon the ex-SOLDIER, wondering if he's searching for someone. But the question suggest more than mere concern. To those that're seasoned vets to the pastime of warriors, it means to engage in battle.

"Not anyone in particular." said Kuraudo, fixing his mako-enriched eyes upon the would be challenger. He stands there with the prodigious First Tsurugi in the grip of his right hand. With one lift, he heaves the sword, resting its length across the breadth of his shoulders.

"I see. If we both came here seeking to test ourselves, perhaps we should start with a match between the two of us?" Xukhezur suggested. "I'm looking to hone my skills and test my devices in a battle that approaches my best effort," he admitted. "If that agrees with you, then a little pain now might spare us both future misfortune."

An inference was made to duel at the circe of mayhem. Kuraudo simply nods and journey to the rendezvous point for combat. A few minutes later, the ex-SOLDIER is at the mean spot of the ring. It's been a summer or two since his last scrimmage, and it looks just as he remembers. Broken and ruin. Without much to prepare for, Kuraudo turns to face his opposition to get the fight underway.

Xukhezur nodded, and as the other walked toward his starting position, he swung himself up over the retaining wall and hung from it a moment before dropping the rest of the way down to the sand. As he ventured to his own starting position, he dailed up his robotic power armor "Rubicon" on one of his control bracelets, and verbally bade it by remote, to join him in the arena and touch down in the fighting pit within sight. "Rubicon" was situated on a rooftop near the arena with its cloaking screen active, but as it lifted off and slid through the air on the artificial gravity fields produced my its induction engine array, Xukhezur bade it to toggle its cloaking screen off and toggle its deflection and particle fields on. It rose over the outermost wall of the arena and glided down to rest upon the sand about fourty feet behind where Xukhezur had ulitmately come to stand for the battle to begin. He assumed a sidelong defensive stance with his left side forward, and exlaimed, "Ready" as he took a slow stride foward followed by another, whilst staying on his toes.

Duly arranged for the fray, the ex-SOLDIER notes every action taken by Xukhezur. There's an aircraft, designed to suit a single person, came at the behest of its commander. For what purpose it provides remains to be an enigma to Kuraudo. Though he knows it has an important role to play in his match.

With this understanding, he brings the First Tsurugi from his shoulders to the forefront. Afterwards, Kuraudo breaks his position to burst into a sprint. The thin layer of sand spurns from the fleet pattering of his boots. Everything that's lightweighted, such as his hair, waist cloak and left sleeve, flutters to the onrush. The position of his sword is brought to his dexter to as the space between them steadily dwindles. Who will sling the initial strike?

Xukhezur stepped towards his opponent, and pantomimed a right-handed fist strike from his middle, stepping into it from the hip as the motion discharged a psychokinetic missile bearing the size, striking surface, velocity and mass of the extremity involved. Produced by the protomorphic replica of the necklace he wore under his protomorphic jump suit, this missile silently distorted light and the air it slid through, a wave originating from the necklace and surging through his arm before its release. As the missile hurtled towards his opponent's gut, Xukhezur stepped forward and to his right, adjusting away from power armor some. He wanted to work without his robotic power armor some so he maintain an accurate physical awareness of his own body and its capacities in battle, but doubted he could get past the reach of his opponent's sword without producing a weapon of sufficient length or range.

In his nimble-footed approach, Kuraudo remains unswerving. He tightens his grip upon the red haft of the First Tsurugi. It's in response to Xukhezur's pellucid warhead that he launched. Like water, light filters through the projectile which causes a distortion. A hazy disposition that dispenses the size of the missle and its trajectory. The ex-SOLDIER veers off to his right to avoid potential damage. And by doing so, it's to be assumed the missle will continue onward, missing its target entirely.

Xukhezur's psychokinetic missile misses its mark, as he himself utilizes a chained infusion to swiftly conjure protomorphic replicas of his katana, shortsword and a baldric harness, containing eighteen anti-riot concussion grenades. Certainly not as impressive looking as his opponents blade, his own obdurium blades possessed a small repertoire of technological advancements and magical enhancements. He was wary however, of using the blades to block or parry his opponent's blade, for they might slide right through it, allowing the severed portions of the blade to continue on their path toward his person. Nonetheless, he was ready to receive his opponent, should the other cut back to continue his charge.

The ex-SOLDIER continues his speedy approach. Though before he comes within striking range, Xukhezur had set his devices through unearthly means. A weapon that mirrors the length and width of the First Tsurugi. Only ten feet away, Kuraudo winds up his arms to execute a slash. Also, he utilizes the opportunity to charge his weapon with Spirit Energy: a metaphysical substance.

It highlights the intricate design of the fusion swords in blue. Then, like a burgeoning flame, the energy enswathes the entire brand. At five feet, coming in range to attack, the ex-SOLDIER swings the First Tsurugi from right to left. An arcing endeavor to cleave his opposition cleanly through the left arm, just under the fringe of the deltoid. And if successful, the savage split will rive the chest cavity and exit the opposite end. If not, an alternative effect will arise.

As his opponent brought the large sword up into position, stepped forward and began his swing, Xukhezur ducked forward and to his left, almost dropping to a knee. As the First Tsurugi was brought to bear, he raised the short sword in his left hand to bear and push against it, in an attempt to divert the trajectory of the large weapon enough to let it pass over his head. Meanwhile, Xukhezur brought the katana in his right hand about in an attempt to strike at his opponent's closest leg.

Xukhezur knew his weapons could be used to generate psychokinetic missiles identical to those produced when his martial arts strikes were used tandem with the necklace he wore under his protomorphic jump suit, each of which would behave as though he had actually thrown the corresponding weapon in and of itself. However, he wasn't looking to risk killing his opponent outright, only to perhaps cripple him severely enough that it would bring the fight to a definitive end. Though, not to be cruel or ungrateful for his opponent's participation, Xukhezur was prepared to utilize his means of healing others and making them whole again, should it prove necessary.

Kuraudo's hulk of a sword misses its intended target. Xukhezur took evasive measures to slip beneath the First Tsurugi to offset its projection. Shoving his short sword into the flat of the mechanical brand. Though by doing this, his otherwordly foe inadvertently set off a trap. The luminous energy cloaking the First Tsurugi detonates like an explosive. An outburst that not only sends Xukhezur reeling, but Kuraudo as well.

He is sent flying back, racing over the battle floor several feet (6.12) high. It was a reckless move, though his actions didn't render him unconcious. The ex-SOLDIER stunned himself momentarily, able to recover from the debacle forthwith. He motions his slim body into a slow flip backwards. By this time the momentum wanned a bit and Kuraudo lands on his feet. He slides across the sand, leaving an eight-foot skid mark in his wake. When he brings himself upright, Kuraudo looks across to ring. There's wonderment on his mind. Whether his opponent endured the attack unscathed.

Xukhezur was also sent reeling, pressed down into the sand at a steeper angle given he was beneath the his opponent's blade when it detonated. The protomorphic replica of his short sword flew from his grasp in the process, scoring and puncturing his protomorphic jump suit across his left pectoral, lacerating his flesh down to the ribs before catching and ricocheting off to his left. Meanwhile his body was slammed into the ground and literally bounced, wrenching his neck and bruising his torso. The top of his head and his face throbbed, scorched raw. His pores glistened with the underlying blood that began to began to weep out, appearing faintly green against his pale skin, which indicated it was abnormal in some significant way. He was thankful that his goggles had protected his eyes, and winced painfully as he gingerly wiped them clean, standing up from his own divot in the sand where he'd landed, some twenty feet away. He coughed to catch his breath, wincing again as he did so given his battered body. Meanwhile his short sword, true to its protomorphically replicated nature, decayed into nothing after having been left unattended for six seconds, leaving Xukhezur with only the katana.

The less-than-graceful counterassault worked in Kuraudo's favor. From more than ten yards away (31 ft.), the ex-SOLDIER can barely see the results of his efforts. Xukhezur sustained heavy damage but was able to recoup from his woes. Kuraudo, like before, charges at his blood-soaked adversary. He arranges the First Tsurugi similarly to his previous dash. Its florid haft is gripped firmly, held rightmost to its wielder. Spiky hair wavering, black cloak whipping to the beat of impetus, it was like deja vu. Though when the situation emerges, will Kuraudo make the same foolish mistake?

Xukhezur eyed his opponent warily as he gingerly reached for two slender anti-riot concussion grenades on his baldric harness, grimacing and cringing some with quite a bit of pain as his lacerated left pectoral had just stopped bleeding and was only begining to mend itself due to the silthilar nature of his physioligically modified blood, which gave it its algae green hue. He tossed these grenades with one hand to the ground before his advancing opponent, and the device woven into his harness vibrated to indicate the grenades had been thrown far enough to not endanger him beyond the effect a very loud noise might have. He spoke the command "boom" loud enough for the device in his harness to indentify both his voice and the word itself and remotely trigger the grenades, which simultaneously detonated, producing a potent, but non-lethal, cacophonic shockwave with a primary blast radius of five yards. Despite the fact that these grenades and their corresponding harness were protomorphic replicas of devices he kept on his protomorphic demiplane, they would remain effective up until six seconds after they left his possession, at which point they would instantly decay into nothing.

On his swift advance towards Xukhezur, the ex-SOLDIER notices something. It was a slew of objects, possibly no bigger than an orange, taking flight. He's uncertain as to what they are, let alone their nature or properties. But it's to be assumed that whatever Xukhezur's tossing before him is destructive. In light of the unknown, Kuraudo changes his direction by veering left posthaste. Afterwards, he brings the First Tsurugi over to his left side, contrasting its position.

As his path bows, Kuraudo twists the rotation clip with his right thumb and forefinger. It's located beneath the base of the handguard; responsible for unlocking the fusion swords and bestowing offhand swordplay. In addition, it serves as an auto-locking mechanism when an auxiliary brand is inserted. Now that the swords have been unlatched, the ex-SOLDIER veils them with spiritual energy. They leap from the facets and surrounds Kuraudo to fortify his defenses.

By the time he set out a bastion of swords, a number of explosions occurs. It--the shockwaves--breaks the flow of his run but only temporarily. Kuraudo takes one staggering step after another, pressing onward to resume his approach. If it weren't for the swords, shielding him from the blast, the outcome would've been grave.