M-Verse Arena.
The sounds of agony echo in the large room. Adrien Dillard, with short blond hair and a menacing smile, stands over a handful of unfortunate men sprawled out on the long, square-shaped platform. All of the men are battered, covered in lacerations and bruises. Many of them crying out from broken limbs and torn muscles.
High above the platform is the Bass Foundation's official M-Verse portal, a large circle of light, shimmering in a myriad of dark blues and greens.
Several feet away from the platform, safely tucked away behind transparent walls made of heavy glass and thick plastic, is the Command Room. A group of young men and women in lab coats move busily across the room, flipping switches, jamming buttons, taking notes, and speaking to one another in technical nomenclature known only to them.
Sitting in a large chair amidst the hustle and bustle is Dr. Lau, staring at Adrien with his fingers tightly folded together. He smiles for a moment, then speaks into the microphone on his wrist.
Sitting in a large chair amidst the hustle and bustle is Dr. Lau, staring at Adrien with his fingers tightly folded together. He smiles for a moment, then speaks into the microphone on his wrist.
LAU
Very impressive, Mr. Dillard.
Adrien turns to face Lau. He's dissatisfied.
ADRIEN
Is that all? No more practice dummies for me play with?
LAU
Not today, Adrien. Your training is over. The show's about to start. You need to leave.
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