Megatron drummed his fingers against the throne. He was glad that his room had a throne; however, he was displeased that it was the only feature of the room. There could at least be a stasis-lock chamber. Then I wouldn't have to deal with all of this waiting, yes. The Predacon searched the room for the speaker that would announce that the challenge would begin, but he couldn't find one. The Master of Games must use some other form of voice projection.

"Megatron, you may now exit through your door. It will lead you to your prep room and your team." Megatron chuckled. So he's got my team arranged already? I guess he figures that cheating is necessary to get ahead. I won't argue with his logic, no. He stood and walked through the door to find the team from the last challenge- The demonic warrior Nightmare and his cursed sword Soul Edge; a Yautja, an alien hunter more commonly known as the Predator, and the Xenomorph- apparently something the Predator hunted once. The AI piloted robot, Nineball, was absent. They stood at their equipment racks, fitting armor to themselves and loading weapons. The Master of Games' voice echoed in the chamber.

"As you can see, I'm giving you a head start on team-building. Large mecha like Nineball have been excluded from this challenge, but I've provided you a replacement for him- you'll have to find him in the arena. He'll be a bit of a secret weapon. Now do me a favor, and don't let me down again." There was an awkward silence among the warriors. Megatron would not let it last. "You heard him. We're not letting him down again." The doors of the prep room opened, and they stepped into a thick forest. Megatron saw through the trees that there was a clearing ahead. In the center of the clearing, a man sat by a fire. He seemed to be cooking something on a spit.

Megatron turned to his team, and gave a nod to the Predator and the Xenomorph. The alien warrior cloaked himself, and the Xenomorph bounded ahead on all fours. The two approached the man, who seemed to be completely unaware. The Predator knelt just a few feet in front of the man, and the Xenomorph had crawled behind him. The Predator made a quiet clicking noise, and the Xenomorph began to rise, unleashing a terrible scream. The man didn't even turn to face the monster. Instead, he removed what he was cooking on the spit and held it out behind him.

"Well, are you hungry or not?"

The Xenomorph sniffed at the charred substance, and snatched it away greedily. It sat like an oversized dog, chewing hungrily at the food. The Predator stood and uncloaked in amazement. The man showed no sign of surprise. "Don't tell me you want some too. I'm plumb out."

The Predator scratched its head and waved Megatron and Nightmare over. As the other two approached, the man did not run. He merely stood and observed the team assembling around him. "So, you're the bunch of odd folks I was told to expect." Nightmare was confused.

"Surely this maggot cannot be our 'secret weapon!'"

Megatron scolded the demon. "Is that any way to treat an honored team member?" He turned to the man, who was brushing soot off of his home-made leather jacket. "Now, what exactly do you do?" The man stroked his short beard in thought.

"Well, I don't think I'm much of anything. Folks say all sorts of things about me."

Megatron was a little annoyed by the indirect response. "And what do these… folks say about you?"

"They say I can sing, but I doubt that's what you're looking for. They say I'm a pretty decent shot, too," he said, gesturing to a bow on the ground. Megatron looked at the bow, and back at the man. Then the answer struck him.

"Sir, what is your name?"

The man did not answer, but he did laugh softly. He picked up his bow and began to amble towards the woods on the other side of the clearing. Megatron and the other warriors followed, amazed and dumbstruck by the man.

***

Dirt roads had never interested Holly Short much, but she found herself examining every inch of the one she was currently walking down. It was about ten feet wide, and it was about one inch lower than the surrounding ground of the forest. It would probably flood very badly in the event of a rainstorm. She knelt down and scooped up a small amount of the dirt with her fingers. It was cold, dry, and lifeless. By comparison, the dirt underneath the trees of the forest was moist and thick, not unlike potting soil.

I can't believe it. You're in an extra-dimensional gladiatorial competition, and you're COMPARING DIRT. Get ahold of yourself, Holly! She brushed the dirt off of her hands and continued down the path.

The (cold, dry, lifeless) dirt road wound through the forest and eventually led to a small, quiet brook. Holly looked down at the stream, then up into the surrounding foliage. Her opponents were nowhere nearby. The elf took the opportunity to study the components of the environment again. She knelt in the water and stirred at the sediment underneath. There were no fish in the brook, nor was there any form of algae. The rocks were unnaturally clean and uniformly smooth. It's like it was just made. No, it's like it was put in place by a landscaper. The Master of Games creates these arenas, but he can't simulate reality perfectly. Holly picked up one of the smooth, black stones and was examining it when the air was split by a loud crack and a burst of lavender energy. Holly ducked for cover behind a shrub nearby and readied her Neutrino 3000. She delicately pushed the barrel through the branches, squinting to make out her assailant.

The brook had been partially evaporated, and a thin veil of steam hid the interloper briefly. Holly vaulted over the bush, aiming down the sights of her blaster. The mist cleared, and the elf was greeted by a strange sight. Standing before her was what resembled a small horse with all of the hard lines carved out of it. Its coat was lavender, and its flank bore an insignia- a cluster of stars Holly couldn't identify. Atop its head was a short, blunt horn.

"What in Frond's name are you?" questioned the elf.

The creature spoke with a surprisingly human voice. "A unicorn, of course," it said, gesturing to the horn with one of its hooves. "My name's Twilight Sparkle." Holly holstered her weapon and scratched her head.

"And why exactly are you talking to me?"

"Because something fishy is going on with this Grand Combat, and I need all the help I can have to get to the bottom of it. I was told you were one of the more agreeable people around."

"By whom?"

"Some big guy with a horned helmet. He spoke very highly of you."

"The Dovahkiin, figures. You can tag along, but I have some bigger priorities right now. I've got to find Katniss and make sure she hasn't curled up and cried herself to death first. I'll help you once we've got her accounted for."

"That's fine. Lead the way." And with that, Holly set off down the bank of the brook, with Twilight trotting along behind her. We'll see how long this lasts, Holly thought. If anyone here actually needs my help, it's Katniss. The second this Twilight Sparkle gets in the way, I'll send her to the glue factory.