I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Zafron's stomach churned as he and Matilda approached the arena entrance. The roar of the crowd penetrated the thick stone walls, clearly, all that existed in the arena was bloodlust and anticipation. He glanced up at the VIP box and spotted Shadow and Whisper, their masks glinting in the harsh crystal light.

The twins blew him mocking air kisses, their amusement at his predicament evident even from a distance.

"Bastards," Zafron muttered under his breath.

Matilda squeezed his hand, her face a mask of concern. "You don't have to do this, you know. We could find another way."

Zafron shook his head. "No, we can't. They made that pretty clear." He forced a smile. "Don't worry, I've got this."

Matilda's lips pressed into a thin line. She reached up, cupping his face in her hands, and kissed him fiercely. "Be careful in there," she whispered against his lips. "I need you in one piece."

"Yes, ma'am," Zafron replied with a wink, trying to project more confidence than he felt.

As Matilda reluctantly stepped away, Zafron closed his eyes and focused inward. "Calista," he called silently. "I need you."

A familiar presence flickered to life in his mind, accompanied by an exaggerated yawn. [Oh, look who finally remembered I exist. Let me guess, you're in trouble again, my lord?]

'Just monitor the fight and relay any important information,' Zafron thought back, gritting his teeth.

[Monitor the fight, he says. As if I have anything better to do than watch you get your ass handed to you. Again.]

Before Zafron could retort, a burly guard shoved him forward. "You're up, slime boy," the man growled.

Zafron stumbled into the arena, momentarily blinded by the sudden onslaught of light and noise. As his eyes adjusted, he took in the massive circular pit, ringed by tiered seating carved directly into the cavern walls. The crowd's roar intensified as they recognized him, a mixture of cheers and jeers filling the air.

A booming voice cut through the din. "Ladies and gentlemen, scum and scoundrels of the Undercity! Welcome back to the Pit of Despair!"

[Charming name,] Calista drawled in Zafron's mind. [I bet the tourism board just loves it.]

"Returning to the arena," the announcer continued, "the surprise victor of our last bout, the slimy sensation himself – Zafroooonnn!!!"

A cheer went up from part of the crowd, while others booed and hurled insults. Zafron raised a hand in awkward acknowledgment, scanning the sea of faces until he found Matilda. She stood rigid, her knuckles white as she gripped the railing.

"And his opponent," the announcer's voice dropped to a menacing growl, "a man who brings the storm, the shock, the awe – Volt the Merciless!"

The opposite gate creaked open, and Zafron's breath caught in his throat. A towering figure emerged, easily seven feet tall and corded with lean muscle. His skin was a patchwork of scars and burn marks, telling the story of countless battles. In his right hand, he carried a metal rod about four feet long, topped with a pulsing blue crystal.

Volt's eyes locked onto Zafron, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Well, well," he called out, his voice a rumbling bass. "Looks like I get to fry me some slime today."

[Oh good,] Calista chimed in, [he's a talker. Because getting electrocuted wasn't fun enough on its own.]

Zafron ignored her, focusing on his opponent, it was war time.

He raised his hand, willing his slime to coat his arm in its usual protective layer. But something was wrong. Instead of the thick, red ooze he was used to, a pale pink substance trickled from his pores, thin and watery.

"What the hell?" Zafron muttered, staring at his arm in disbelief.

[My lord, that doesn't look right,] Calista observed unhelpfully. [Maybe you're coming down with something? Slime flu? I just ran a scan through you, you appear fine,]

Before Zafron could process what was happening, a crackle of energy filled the air. He looked up just in time to see Volt slam his rod into the ground. A bolt of lightning arced across the arena floor, striking Zafron square in the chest.

Pain exploded through his body as he was hurled backward, skidding across the rough stone. The crowd roared its approval.

"First blood to Volt!" the announcer cried gleefully.

Zafron struggled to his feet, his muscles twitching from the electrical assault. He tried again to summon his slime armor, but the pale, watery substance offered little protection.

[You know,] Calista mused, [I'm no expert, but I don't think you're supposed to be extra conductive in a fight against a lightning wielder.]

"Thanks for the insight," Zafron growled through clenched teeth. He dove to the side as another bolt of lightning scorched the ground where he'd been standing.

Volt laughed, twirling his rod like a baton. "Come on, boy! I thought you were supposed to be a challenge!"

Zafron's mind raced. Without his usual defenses, he was at a severe disadvantage. He needed to buy time, figure out what was wrong with his powers.

"What's the matter?" he called out, forcing bravado into his voice. "Afraid to fight me up close? Or is that stick the only thing you know how to handle?"

Volt's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you want close? I'll give you close!"

The giant man charged, swinging his rod like a club. Zafron ducked under the first swing but caught a glancing blow to his shoulder on the second. Even that light contact sent a jolt of electricity coursing through him.

Zafron stumbled back, his left arm now numb and useless. He risked a glance at Matilda and immediately wished he hadn't. Her face was completely mirroring one of horror, hands pressed against her mouth as she watched him take blow after blow.

[My lord, may I?] Calista piped up, [You know, I've been thinking. It's a long shot, but have you considered not getting hit?]

"Calista," Zafron hissed as he narrowly avoided another swing, "if you're not going to be helpful, shut up!"

[Alright, alright. Don't get your slime in a twist. I've been analyzing his attacks, and there's something odd about that rod of his.]

Before she could elaborate, Volt caught Zafron with a solid hit to the ribs. The impact drove the air from his lungs, and the subsequent electrical discharge left him convulsing on the ground.

"Is that all you've got, slime boy?" Volt taunted, standing over him. "I expected more from the guy who took down Gauntlet."

Zafron coughed, tasting blood. "Sorry to disappoint," he wheezed. "I'll try harder next time." He said with a smile across his face. This was of course to throw Volt away, sometimes the easiest way to get in an opponent's head was by sounding confident. Although right now, it wasn't exactly going to help him.

[My lord, I'm afraid there might not be a next time if you don't get your act together,] Calista warned. [Look, I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but it looks like he's channeling his powers through that rod. The crystal's amplifying his natural abilities.]

Zafron's eyes widened as understanding dawned. "The rod," he muttered. "It's the key."

Volt raised an eyebrow. "What's that? Got a death wish you want to share?"

Mustering his strength, Zafron rolled to his feet. His body screamed in protest, but a plan was forming in his mind. "Just wondering," he said, forcing a grin, "how much juice that fancy stick of yours can handle?"

[Oh, I see where you're going with this,] Calista chimed in, a note of excitement in her mental voice. [If we can overload the crystal, it might shatter. Risky, but it beats your current strategy of 'get beaten to a pulp.'"]

Volt's face darkened. "Why don't we find out?" He raised the rod high, and the crystal began to pulse with intense blue light. The air crackled with energy as he summoned a massive bolt of lightning.

Zafron stood his ground, heart pounding. "Come on," he whispered. "Give me your best shot."

The lightning struck with the force of a freight train, engulfing Zafron in a blinding flash. Pain beyond anything he'd ever experienced tore through every fiber of his being. But even as he screamed, he focused all his will on his failing powers.

To his amazement, the watery pink slime began to change. It darkened, thickened, absorbing the electrical energy like a sponge. Zafron felt the power building within him, threatening to tear him apart.

Volt's eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell?"

With a primal yell, Zafron thrust his hands forward. The supercharged slime shot out in a red torrent, wrapping around Volt's rod. Electricity arced between them as Zafron poured every ounce of absorbed energy back into the weapon.

The crystal atop the rod began to vibrate, its blue glow intensifying to a blinding white. Cracks appeared along its surface, spreading like a spider's web.

"No!" Volt cried, trying to pull away. But it was too late.

The crystal exploded in a spectacular shower of fragments. The backlash sent both fighters flying in opposite directions. Zafron slammed into the arena wall, his vision blurring as his head cracked against the stone.

For a long moment, silence reigned in the arena. Then, slowly, Zafron pushed himself to his feet. Across the pit, Volt lay motionless, the shattered remains of his rod scattered around him.

The crowd erupted in a deafening roar.

"Unbelievable!" the announcer shouted. "Against all odds, Zafron has done it again! Victory by incapacitation!"

[Well, I'll be damned. You actually did it, my lord] Calista mused. [You actually pulled it off. Don't let it go to your head, though. I'm pretty sure that was at least 80% my idea.]

Zafron chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain in his ribs. He looked up to the stands, finding Matilda's tear-streaked face. She was beaming at him, relief and pride shining in her eyes.

As the crowd chanted his name, Zafron allowed himself a small smile. He'd survived another day in this hellhole. But as his gaze drifted to the VIP box, where Shadow and Whisper watched with calculating eyes, he knew the real fight was just beginning.

[So, my lord,] Calista drawled, [same time tomorrow? Or do you think you could try staying out of trouble for, oh, I don't know, five minutes?]

Zafron shook his head, still grinning despite the pain. "Now where's the fun in that?"