User blog comment:Kaido King of the Beasts/Wikia Colosseum: The Finals/@comment-5239749-20150509074525

Amidst the chaos of the fighting, a human form emerges from the murky depths atop a surfacing fighting fish. Twas Deez, whom the other gladiators had long forgotten about. His breathing haggard, the unfortunate soul desperately extended his arm, knowing that only moments remained before the fighting fish dived back under. What luck! Tightly gripping the ledge of the arena, Deez mustered all his strength and hoisted himself above to safety. He lay there for a while, contemplating the events that had almost led to his untimely death. A mix of emotions churned about in his mind, threatening to devour him like a mighty maelstrom. Anger. Sadness. Regret. Confusion. Longing. But most of all, a soul-crushing hopelessness. After all, he had come to this country to compete and win glory. Even if he should not win, there was still honor in death. But this? This was something different. A complete humiliation. He had been tossed aside like a rag doll, like dust in the wind. Suddenly, Deez jerked himself upright and began to weep. He knew that he could not return home. Not after having been dishonored in such a public manner. Not even his own father would accept that. Tears streaming through his eyes, Deez surveyed the arena for an escape. His arms were mangled beyond use, so he knew a sword was out of the question. Aha! A gladiator helm lay on it's side, a sharp spike adorning the top. As Deez slowly began to drag himself towards the merciful implement, the noise from the surrounding battles assaulted his ears. At last, the forlorn warrior arrived at his destination, purpose in hand. Readying himself, Deez closed his eyes before hurling his outstretched neck towards the spike. Impalement should only hurt a little, right? Alas! It was not to be. A sharp pain burrowed it's way into Deez's throat, but it did not end his life. He looked down, aghast, to see that spike had missed it's intended target. A burning hatred coursed through Deez's veins. How could he have missed such an easy spot? Was it fear that prevented him from dealing the final blow? Was he such a coward that not even death would embrace him? As warm blood trickled down his chest, the man collapsed into a heep and began shaking uncontrollably. His ambitions crumbled. His spirit broken. This was a man at his most desperate. But then! As if a light from heaven had pierced through a thundercloud, a glimmer caught Deez's gaze. Motivated not by any higher instinct other than curiosity, the poor fellow crawled to the source of the glint. What greeted him was a red potato-shaped object, polished with a lustrous sheen. But what was most noticeable was the human face adoring this ominous trinket. A mouth, a set of eyes, and a nose adorned this otherwise mundane bauble. As Deez inspected it, one of the eyes opened and cast it's gaze upon him. Deez cried out in surprise and dropped the strange oddity. At once, a voice echoed through his head, "If thou hast a strong desire, ye need only wish for it." Deez looked around, bewildered and frightened, and spoke, "What sort of spectre are you, who've come to haunt a dying man? Leave me be. I have enough woes." For a long while there was nothing, but after a time the voice said, "Do you not yearn for the things of this world? Is thine ambition so readily abandoned?" To this, Deez replied, "What know you of me? Of my dream? And of my sorrows? Speak quickly, wretched ghost, and begone with you. For my time grows short and I think not to spend it with you." The voice was silent for a time and then began, "Tell me, in this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law? Is it like the hand of God hovering above? At least it is true that man has no control, even over his own will. Man always says 'Ah, it must be fate'. No matter how terrible or unfair a deed may be, it is attributed to fate. Therefore, if fate is a principle beyond Human comprehension which capriciously torments man, then it is karma that man confront fate by embracing sorcery." Deez replied, "I tire of your rambling! What is the purpose of all this? Why are you here?!" The voice chuckled and said, "I am here... To grant you a second chance." Deez, feeling the last his body's warmth leave him, allowed a mirthless laugh to escape his lips. "A second chance! Surely you jest." "I do not deal in jests." "Prove it then", hissed Deez, his eyesight beginning to dim. "Prove that you are who you say you are, and not merely a vision caused by delirium." The voice went dead quiet for a while, longer then any of the prior pauses, and then responded. "Very well." Suddenly, Deez felt an alien presence touch his thoughts, examining them as one would a book. Information began flooding into his brain, as if a dam had breached. He saw past, present, and future, all at once. He witnessed creation and destruction. War and peace. Life and death. Multiple lifetimes' worth of memories filled his mind to the brim. The pressure built and built, until it felt as though Deez might collapse from the weight of all this knowledge. And then! Darkness. The torrent of eldritch wisdom that had been pouring out to him ceased its flow, and all was calm. In his mind's eye, the young man perceived the silhouettes of four figures. One stepped forward, revealing himself as the owner of the mysterious voice. The phantasm spoke once again, "You have seen with our eyes and now know what we know. What say you then, mortal?" Deez was speechless. His entire worldview had been shattered in the blink of an eye. Even now, with death nearly upon him, all he could think about was the truth to which he had just recently been blind to. All of the emotions that had been swirling within him had subsided. Instead a fiendish joy crept it's way to surface. Deez raised his head towards the figures and answered, "I shall accept your most generous offer. What must I do?" To this, the figure whom Deez had been addressing raised arm skyward and proclaimed, "Oh, child chosen by the laws of causality. Join us in holy communion, and become our kin. Chant the words 'I sacrifice' in your heart, and you shall be granted raven-black wings upon which you shall soar in the heavens, higher than any summit." Deez awoke from his reverie in the arena, mere moments from the afterlife. He could still hear the battles raging around him. He cared not. He had all he needed, right here. Deez grasped the Crimson Behelit in his hands and spoke aloud the words: "I sacrifice."

The sky grew dark; the eclipse has begun. As the ground began to rumble, MoM, Deva, M4NDON, Rici, JSD, Calu, Yata, and DP ceased their petty fighting to observe this strange phenomena. The landscape warped and twisted until it became unrecognizable. Corrida Colosseum was gone. The place they now occupied was a nightmarish landscape, covered in human faces. A giant hand erupted from the ground, the four members of the Godhand each adorning a finger. And Deez, in his horrible, mutilated shape, sat in the palm overlooking the eight fighters. Just as they began to wonder aloud what sort of dimension this was, Void spoke aloud, "By his will, be done. Come and enjoy this divine banquet." The brand of sacrifice is burned into each user, and the army of unholy Apostles begin to descend upon their prey. Finally, Deez is surrounded by a cocoon, where he shall be reborn. The Wikia Colosseum Final is no longer a mere contest. It is a desperate struggle to stay alive. Welcome to Fight Club, motherfucker.