The preparation chamber was a case study in opulence and excess. Rich tapestries and furnishing inlaid with gold were strewn almost haphazardly around the room, giving a sense of slothful abandon to what should have been an otherwise spartan location. Hundreds of attendants, slaves, and hangers-on filled the preparation chamber; some replenishing the massive buffet off to one side, while many more moved about the chamber to ensure no want went unfulfilled, carnal or otherwise.

Little cliques of nobles and business owners formed here and there, discussing the path of the empire’s war and business machines; while steely eyed guards were posted around the room, supplemented by the moving shadows that indicated the Emperor's Hares. All of their movements and focus gently swirled like a whirlpool around the middle of the room.

And there within the heart of it all Emperor Kota reclined on a platform of massive proportions, its surface covered with kits and younglings. Most laid despondently, trying to escape the eye and ire of their tormentor. Pushing his few favorites off of him, Kota lazily held his hand out to the side and it was instantly filled with a jewel encrusted goblet of wine.

Lazily pouring its contents into his open maw and flipping the empty vessel carelessly onto the children at his feet; Kota rose lithely to his full height. Stepping off of the dais, Kota raised his arms and spread his stance wide to allow his armor to be placed upon his Imperial person while ruminating upon the coming ‘battle’. With a faint sneer crossing his face, Kota remembered the brash upstart declaring that he would request a personal duel should he become Grand Champion.

Kota had not thought much of it at the time, the odds eminently not in the scarred and hairless fighter’s favor. But round after round, with the crowd chanting his name more and more, Vin became a thorn in the Emperor’s paw. Due to the crowd's favor and temperament, Vin could not disappear entirely, a few off-handed comments disparaging Vin was enough for those seeking Kota’s favor to make sure that Vin had neither aid nor succor before today.

A grin began to manifest upon the Emperor’s visage as he imagined the cowed fighter being brought before him and the frothing masses, only to be shaken to the side as a slave attempted to loosen a strap a bit too aggressively. Sure Kota had once kept his body in pristine condition, but was it worth it to be Emperor if you couldn’t indulge yourself now and again? However, Kota felt insulted by the implication of the slave that he was no longer fit for his armor, so he threw a glance to a Hare agent and gave a slight nod and gestured towards the now trembling incompetent.

The unfortunate slave was dragged to the corner of the room, his cries for mercy and forgiveness making a sweet tune as Kota marched towards the bright doorway; the mewling coming to an abrupt end as the Emperor gathered himself, his retinue of guards and Hares gathering to his sides and back.

Marching out into the blazing sun and sand Kota raised his chin and smiled, allowing the cheers and screams of the citizenry to wash over him. Gently waving to all around him, Kota was the picture of a benevolent ruler, finally coming to a halt in the center of the coliseum. His personal guard spread out from behind him to create a ring 10 meters wide and faced outwards, always on watch for any threat to the Imperial line. Defenses ensured, Kota turned on his heel to encompass all of his subjects within his gaze while gesturing for quiet. Within moments, the sound within the stadium had lowered to a gentle murmur, and Kota raised his voice to project and bounce within the natural amplification provided by his ancestor’s building.

“MY PROUD AND BEAUTIFUL CITIZENS!” With just a few words, Kota once again was subjected to the voluminous adoration of the public. Firmly keeping his ears from twitching in reaction to the verbal assault, Kota allowed the crowd to wind itself down before speaking again. “ON THIS DAY, WE CELEBRATE OUR VICTORY IN THE EAST WITH A VICTORY OF YOUR OWN! FROM OUR HUMBLE CAPITAL’S STREETS, A GRAND CHAMPION HAS ARISEN! NOW HE COMES FORTH, TO MAKE HIS REQUEST KNOWN! WHAT SHALL HE WISH FOR? RICHES? NOBILITY? A DAY OF FESTIVAL IN YOUR HONOR?”

As the crowd began to chant and speculate, their minds placing themselves on the sands below with the opportunities provided to them; Kota nodded to a pair of guards across the arena. With a groan that echoed their size and age, the gates were dragged open to reveal…nothing. A frown blossomed on Kota’s face as no one stepped forth, be it Vin or his minders. Gesturing sharply to a Hare at his side, the agent sped forth towards the now yawing darkness and gathered the two confused gate guards to head below.

The crowd began to murmur at the delay, and Kota was deciding on how to placate the people when he heard an Imperial agent within the stands shout out “HE CAN’T FACE THE MUSIC, THE AMBER-VEIN IS SCARED! COME OUT! COME OUT!” As the chant of “COME OUT” was taken up by the crowd, Kota relaxed while pawing the pommel of his sword, content to be seen as the bigger Konijn; the ire of the crowd being firmly turned towards the no-show.

Just as Kota was prepared to turn away, a lone figure emerged from the darkness. Vin stepped forth into the open sky, berated by both the blistering sun and the jeering calls of the crowd. Making his way slowly towards the Emperor and his contingent, Kota’s eyes narrowed, taking in Vin’s lack of escort, confident steps, and his tattered coverings that he should not have had. Keeping his outward demeanor welcoming while readying his stance slightly, Kota allowed Vin to fully enter the circle of guards as they closed up behind him. The volume of the crowd lowered to almost nothing, as they waited with bated breath to hear the request of the Grand Champion.

Stepping forward slightly, Kota opened his mouth to welcome Vin, but was beaten to the punch as Vin took a large breath and tilted his head back to bellow forth “IN THE NAME OF MY FAMILY AND ALL THOSE WHO YOU HAVE HARMED, I CHALLENGE YOU! A DUEL TO THE DEATH!” Relieved this farce of a meeting had ended so quickly, Kota lowered his stance and drew his blade, a gift from his first triumph. Slowly easing his way forward, Kota searched his enemy’s posture for any hint of a weapon, or an indication of attack.

Finding none, Kota feinted a slash to the left and kicked forward in a lunge, a spray of sand and the point of his blade both headed towards the hooded figure's face. Reeling backwards, Vin threw his hands upwards and fell backwards, turning the awkward fall into a controlled tumble. Expecting a spray of blood, Kota was instead surprised as a clanging sound rang forth; the cloak dropping to the ground during Vin’s roll. As Vin leapt to his feet, the crowd gasped and Kota himself felt a numb disbelief as he finally was afforded an unobstructed view of his opponent.

Originating from a flat oblong piece of metal embedded in Vin’s spine, multiple smooth metal tubes wove in and out of Vin’s flesh, reaching his head, chest and limbs. These tubes flowed gently with an amber fluid, though they seemed to pulse in time with Vin as he began to laugh and grow. Kota took a step backwards as his guards drew their own weapons and stepped forwards, tightening the ring of death. The monstrosity before him howled out his mirth, an audible cracking and popping emanating forth from Vin’s entire body. Growing until he was double the size of an average Konijn, the behemoth towered above the encirclement of trained killers.

Ceasing his laughter, Vin flexed his hand before his eyes in wonder, barely seeming to notice the swords and spears arrayed around him. Barely able to eke out the question, Kota whispered “What…what in all the gods are you”. That simple quiet question seemed to reach deep within Vin’s mind and snap him from his rumination. With eyes shifted to the brilliant amber, Vin bared his now massive incisors and rumbled forth a simple answer. “Death.”

As though his answer was a starter trumpet, guard and Hare alike rushed forward to put an end to this beast who threatened their Emperor, while Kota could only stand in place rooted in fear. The first guard to reach Vin was met in turn with a straight punch, a fist the size of a boulder smashing into the guard’s head and sending it sailing into the sand. Moving fluidly past the now headless body, Vin became a whirlwind of fists, elbows, and footpaws. Hares lept from perceived blind spots, leading their downward plunge with daggers and shortswords; while guards jabbed forwards with spears and halberds.

Leaping into the air himself, Vin met a Hare in the air with a viscous headbutt, knocking him away and forcing several other Hares to make adjustments on landing as their previous trajectories placed them right within the strikes of their fellows. Landing with a sickening splat upon two unfortunate guards, Vin released a guttural roar.

Staggering backwards from the primal fury and hate within that roar, Kota glanced around in panic, realizing that the previously adoring crowd had begun streaming away from the coliseum, screaming and pushing others down in their haste to escape the melee happening below. Taking their cue, Kota turned and began to rush away from the horror now behind him, and toward the safety of his chambers. Hearing the screams and squelches of his protectors only pushed Kota to scrape every ounce of speed he could from his legs.

Hearing a wailing sound approaching him from behind, Kota kept his eyes firmly ahead, unwilling to divert even an iota of his attention lest he slip in the unforgiving sand. As such, the sight of one of his Hares ripped in half landing in front of him was completely unexpected, though not as unexpected as the Hare reaching out for Kota’s legs in a desperate bid for aid. Moving his footpaws swiftly to escape the disgusting sight, Kota felt the sand shift beneath him. Twisting in the air, Kota fell hard on his scut; gasping for air, he looked back at the scene he had fled so readily from.

Vin had taken hold of two guards by their legs, and was proceeding to use them as flails to smash into his few remaining foes into bloody pulps. Though Vin was covered with cuts and punctures by this point; his armored tubes and feral smile remained unbroken. Casting aside the guards in his paws like broken playthings, Vin turned his terrible visage towards Kota and gathered himself low to the ground. Sobbing and scrambling backwards, Kota was unable to look away from the bloody battleground that signaled the end of his reign.

With a blistering speed Vin dashed forward, crossing the distance between the Emperor in a mere instant. Arm snaking forward like a viper, Vin reached toward Kota’s head and grasped it firmly in a single massive paw. Raising the mewling and squirming Imperial by his skull, Kota’s final sight was that of two golden eyes staring into his own. Crying out, Kota quickly spoke “Please, please, I’ll give you anything! Money, slaves, the throne! Don’t kill me, I’ll get you whatever you want!”

Pausing for a moment, Vin seemed to consider the offer for a moment before replying, “I want my family back you son of a bitch.” Vin squeezed, and Emperor Kota was no more.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Almost as an afterthought and unnoticed by all those involved, a bright light moved upwards from the coliseum, heading off once more into the void; course, destination, and mission unknown.