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 A deadly hush fell over the Vegas strip as a roar broke the night. Darkness fell over the once vibrant Las Vegas strip, the sun-like lights beginning to flicker before being extinguished finally.
The roar that left nothing but silence in the desert was soon followed by a low vibration, it's steady hum the only sound to be heard, reaching out into the night like an old friend looking for a lost embrace.
The strip was flooded as people slowly and silently made their way outside, all the while the hum grew, and grew.
Soon it was deafening - although, more than deafening, the hum of the vibration was inside each of us as we looked out into the desert, the sand shaking and the occasional flicker on the horizon. All of us stood there, together as the hum grew into a cacophony of thunder, the very ground shaking and rumbling as the tarmac split and the earth opened.
Out of the great chasm came a man, cloaked all in black, his hood up, we could only barely see his face, his forearms. Every inch of skin that could be made out was covered in markings, like the ink of tattoos - but something more, different. The hum came from these tattoos, like they were alive, reaching out and scanning their surroundings, feeling the air and the warmth and sucking in the moisture. Alive.
People began to run, but not me. I stood there, frozen, my gaze unwavering, hardly remembering to blink. Movement behind the man caught my attention at last, the slightest movement of my head hurt as my neck creaked and refused to obey. Suddenly the chasm was filled as bodies forced their way out of the huge hole left in the Nevada desert. Are they monsters? I remembered thinking to myself at the time. -
I chuckled to myself, remembering. The crowd was roaring now, the entrance music was blaring,the spotlights flickered and circled and the noise from the crowd set the air vibrating, reminding me once more.
They weren't monsters, I soon realised. They were men. Clad in nothing but tight boxers and gloves. They moved as one, a tidal wave of human flesh pouring out of the gaping hole left behind. Soon they were out. They stood behind the marked, inked man and waited silently.
The seconds turned into minutes, those minutes felt like hours. Soon the strip was calm once more, people had calmed and stopped running, once more gathering before the mysterious newcomers. A realisation had crept in, and everyone knew escape was impossible, if they had come with bad intentions.
And then he spoke. His voice a thunderous roar that shook the sky and the earth, the lights came to life as he spoke and the Vegas strip was once more lit up. The casinos and hotels diinging and the lights flared into one big spotlight that seemed to shine directly at him.
"I am Arlen Bales, Founder of Annihilation and Champion of the Titans. The world of MMA is about to change." and with his words spoken, this man, Arlen Bales and his Titans disappeared into the chasm they had arose from, leaving thousands of people confused. But even I could not deny it. The way he had spoken. The hum in the air and the lights enveloping everyone. I felt excitement. And even long after he was gone, the excitement filled the air, almost thick enough to cut.
Who knew? I thought to myself in the present, the wait wouldn't have been long.
I looked out across the arena, people for as far as the eye could see, a wave of screaming flesh, cheering and waving. The music still played out, the crowd moving to the beat and singing along. And then the lights flickered and the arena went dark. The music changed and a spotlight roared to life. And there, in the middle of the cage, he stood.
Arlen Bales, the Warded Man. And then he spoke.
"Welcome to Annihilation."
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