“Well what do you know, a valid question for once.” Master hand muttered. “So! If you somehow blast your enemy to pieces, the pieces will revert back to the way the body was upon arriving to the stage! You see, when you enter a stage, you also enter an immortality field. You couldn’t die even if you wanted to! That also means you can be as gory and as violent as possible!”
As he said this, one of the character’s names on the roster began to glow. Master hand sighed and snapped his fingers, appearing where they were. They had defeated their foe. Within seconds. Master hand looked at Reaper in silence for many seconds.
“...just because you are called reaper doesn’t mean you can just insta-kill everyone...” master hand grumbled. “Anyway, good game, yadda yadda, go back through the rift to wait for the next round.”
......
Specter eyed the robot that passed him, not allowing a single variable be out of place. He knew there was more to the metal duplicate than what the old doctor lead on. An A.I. That sophisticated had to know of it’s own self aware functions. Why was it acting so obiedient for? The most cunning of hunters feign innocence after all...
“Hm...very well.” Specter spoke. “Tell me...one thing has peaked my interested, however slight. I noticed your name: ‘Eggman’. That’s not a very common name, hm?”
.....
Geralt of Rivia walked into the rift, his pace slow and deleborate as he paid a mind to his foe. A Knight. One that wielded a shovel. This tournament had many peculiar elements, so he was somewhat at ease that this combatant was a little more down to earth.
“A shovel. Interesting choice of weapon.”
The shovel knight didn’t respond verbally, simply roasby by his shovel up high. Geralt blinked in response, reading his own sword.
“Not much for words. Fine. Let’s do this.”
Geralt was quick to lash out with a sword strike, but Shovel knight saw this coming, parrying the blow. They stood grinding sword against shovel, trying to put leverage on one another through this tug of war. Suddenly, geralt’s eyes flashed orange.
“Igni.”
Opening one of his hands, he bathed the knight with flames, torching them up and down with crimson fire. The knight panicked, trying to cool the flame, patting itself while it’s other arm swung the shovel frantically, slicing geralt across the chest. Geralt groaned, shoving the burning knight off the ledge with the butt of his sword.
The knight stumbled and fell, but grabbed the edge of the stage with a hand. Despite being on fire, they still had the resolve to hold on...as if they were fighting for something important. Geralt watched this, reluctant to finish the job.
“I know you mean well...but I’m fighting for someone too.” Geralt cringed. “Aard.”
Suddenly, his eyes glew cyan as he used a knockback power on the knight, sending them off the stage and giving him a victory. Geralt stood in silence in respect of his supposed enemy.