Those precious days after a cycle inside the regen tank were accompanied by a saccharine high that made everything feel airy and distant. Everyone at the arena on Donical-4 recognized Coop instantly, no matter how he attempted to hide his face, making the ordeal a surrealist nightmare of light, noises, shrieks and a rainbow of tie-dyed blood splatters throughout the arena bleeding through his consciousness. Coop's uncle insisted they make an appearance to hype their fight and turn up for Kriger's warm-up fight to sell their big bout, but it was too soon after Coop's last battle.

For the average alien, the regen tanks didn't leave them in a few-day long bender of euphoria, but humans were extra sensitive to the tanks. Humanity spent most of their existence imagining what aliens would be like, how advanced their technology would be and what kinds of advancements in culture and society they'd developed, the irony Coop found that one of the few things most of the races agreed upon was brutal fights for entertainment. That was shit humans left behind, sort of, before first contact happened. Now Coop, an otherwise unremarkable asshole of a man, was an exceptional human in a galaxy that laughed at the fragile, primitive humans, as shown by his own private booth atop the arena hovering above the crowd with his own wait staff. Regis, as always, was enjoying his time at the top.

"Are you ready for Kriger?" The announcer boomed through the arena on Donical-4, his voice echoing off the dome above them that kept the atmosphere in. Donical-4 was a spent moon that had been strip-mined by the zondians decades prior and required a lot of tech to whip into shape to house fights, but was far enough away from galactic regulations to allow the promoter to cut corners. "I can't hear you! Are. You. Ready. For. Kriiiiiiiigerrrrrr?"

The crowd erupted, two poor lost souls shuffling uncomfortably in the arena. Humans, because of course. Kriger and his people were trying to make a point to Coop. Everyone knew the two gladiators in the arena bore no resemblance to Coop and were just two poor saps plucked up from the training center on Luna to be Kriger's sacrificial lambs, although those two perhaps didn't realize it until that moment. There was a time where Coop was like them; foolish and rushing into fights before thinking and getting in way over his head. One man held a comically gigantic sword, while the other had a length of pipe, neither one knowing what they were getting into. Kriger was from Gurgia, the gurgians powerfully built and standing at least ten-feet-tall. There was a slight resemblance to brandians in stature and fearsomeness, but without the six arms. Instead gurgians appeared hunched over, with long, powerful limbs, a whip-like tail and a set of razor-sharp pincers protruding from their shoulders. Kriger had lost the left one in battle and chose not to regen it, instead boasting he didn't need advantages against the other races.

Kriger burst out of his door, almost tearing the panels off the hinges, fireworks erupting overhead while smoke billowed out from his ready room and lasers streaked the sky. Nothing but the best for the champion. The poor saps across the arena from him had the crushing weight of their decisions rain down on them in that instant, that they weren't just there to make him look good, they were fodder. Pipe guy rushed back toward his door, pounding his fists against it to no avail. You sign the contract, you gotta fight the fight, that was the deal in the arena. Before either of the men could steel themselves, the alarm blared out and Kriger stalked forward, as always, empty-handed. His lone pincer on his back, his tail and other limbs were enough for him.

A cry rang out when pipe guy rushed forward, swinging for the fences at Kriger's midsection, the alien parrying the blow with his pincer and wrapping his tail around the man's foot, dragging him to the ground while his partner attempted a stab with his weapon. The blade clashed against the pincer, but the sword guy showing there was some skill to his actions, riposting and swinging the sword with an arc towards the tail to free the other man. A flick of the tail flung the grounded man at the sword's blade, both men calling out, but it was too late. Blood splattered out from the gaping wound across his chest, the pipe clattering to the ground, and the man laid in a heap on top of the blossoming pool of red.

"Shit," Regis muttered. "These poor assholes weren't ready for this."

"What?" Watching the man with the sword fighting for his life while the other man bled out was sobering, that euphoria fading with each passing moment. "This is a slaughter. He's trying to fuck with me."

"Yeah, well, that's how the game works, pal."

"I need to stop this, it's me he wants." Coop reached for the pod's controls, his uncle slapping his hand away.

"Are you crazy? You interfere with a fight and you know the rules, you'll get suspended for a month and lose your place. We worked hard to get here, don't blow it like you always do."

"But those poor—"

"Kriger doesn't play with his food, this'll be over in a minute and those poor saps will be in a regen tank for a week, then back to Luna."

"Fucking hell." Coop knew his uncle was right, instead watching the horror while Kriger parried the blows from the fighter, his fist smacking against the blade to unbalance him and the pincer thrusting into the man's stomach, impaling him without ceremony. The fight was over. "Absolutely pathetic."

"That's the game," his uncle said.

Kriger celebrated his victory while a crew rushed out and carted the two men back beneath the stands, disappearing into the shadows while Kriger soaked in the adulation from the crowd. Coop knew this was all a part of the show and what he signed up for, but there were moments where doubts crept through his mind that humans weren't meant to fight creatures like these without guns or chainsaws or something to even the odds. Guy would have to do, but that didn't settle his stomach one bit.

"Don't worry, you got this."

Those words sank into his gut like a brick.