Adrian was never really that big into his gig.

Of course, he liked fighting. A good brawl, a nice lil’ hunt, all of that stuff was absolute gas to him. But it was often on his own terms, his own rules. Nothing to make him hold back, to allow him to fully show who he is. Fighting for sport never really did it for him, having to abide by things like restraint. However, he made a Steel Oath for Maxim.

And so, like a Golem ordered by its creator, he stepped into the ring. As he did, he felt everyone’s attention turn to him, their gazes all but hungering for spilt blood.

“Welcome our duelist! The bloodthirsty hare who’s raring for a fight! Here comes THE CRIMSON HARE!” Maxim roared from the podium, his voice whipping the crowd into a frenzy. He watched as the crowd began to chant his name, their voices echoing against the stonework.

'Let's get this brawl over with,' Adrian thought as he rolled the bat in his hand. He was probably gonna be going against a Scalehound or two.

"Today everyone, we'll be having a new fighter on the stage," Maxim announced, bringing Adrian out of his thoughts.

That's strange. He was never told about this. Was it a sudden change? Or did he do something to piss him off?

As he mentally mulled over his possible offenses, he felt the air around him suddenly become sharp. It was as if the edges of knives were placed right against his skin. Turning his gaze towards the crowd, his eyes widened at their silence. Gone was the raucous crowd he was so familiar with, eager for the clashing of weapons. Instead, it was tense, their attention all focused on a single area. Following their gazes, he was met with a…thing staring at him. Seemingly humanoid, it stood on the other end of the arena, its gaze piercing through him.

"Everyone, here's our newest Bloodletter; Zero!" Maxim said as music slowly began to come back into the arena. However, it wasn't the same booming music as before, where the very walls seemed to shake. Rather, the music was low, almost silent to the ears. However, it seemed to dig into his skin, cutting into his bone.

‘Alright, focus up,’ he thought as he tightened his grip on his bat. He just needed to give the crowd something to cheer about. Win or lose, he can still get his payment.

All that mattered was making the event bloody.

As the two of them slowly began to circle each other, Adrian watched the creature's movements, slowly shifting his grip. It seemed aware of his intent, with its gaze never leaving him. As the air slowly became tenser, he saw it.

Now.

Suddenly, Adrian bolted towards the creature, quickly closing the gap before letting off a swing. However, the creature ducked under the swing, weaving towards his side.

Strike True.

Twisting his body, he quickly shifted his momentum, bringing the swing to the creature's head. However, it hit only air as the thing dodged the strike. Feeling what could only be described as a hammer strike his body, he gritted his teeth before hopping back. However, any distance he made was quickly covered as a pallid fist came towards him. Bringing up his guard, he felt that hammer-like weight slam into his guard, his body seeming to creak like old wood. Twisting his body, he felt Zero’s hand cut through the mask’s hardened leather.

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Quickly making some distance, he watched as Zero began bouncing on its feet, seeming to enjoy the pain it inflicted. Yet, when he met its gaze, he saw nothing but a chilling focus. It was as if a dragon was staring down a mere wolf. No hatred or malice, just a simple will to fight.

Suddenly, he began to feel different.

His heart began to hammer against his chest, almost like that of a drum. The cheering of the crowd, something he pushed to the back of his mind, came roaring back, echoing through his body and bones.

It felt…exhilarating.

Before he could fully understand what happened to him, he felt himself rushing towards Zero, his weapon ready. He swung at the creature, only for it to graze against its pallid arms. Twisting his body, he brought the club back down, for it to meet the marble floor. Gritting his teeth, he dragged the weapon through the stonework, launching debris towards the creature. However, it proved fruitless as it seemed to have phased through it.

With each swing, he scarred the marble floor, launching debris towards his foe. However, it seemed to be ineffective as it simply dodged all that came towards it.

As it ducked another strike, he felt…something well up. A word that seemed to be from somewhere, but nothing that he knew. Yet, it was as if lived with him from his birth.

Ignite.

As he swung again, a wave of flame came forth, consuming the field in heat. As it did so, he suddenly felt something slam into his chest. Clutching his chest, he slowly fell to the floor, the bone under his skin shattered like glass. As darkness slowly covered his sight, he saw the flames in front of him part away as the thing stepped through the blazing heat. The same chilling gaze landed upon him once again, yet he could feel something else. It wasn’t the same as the cold will to fight, but something else. A curiosity of sorts, a showing of information that it has not seen. The last he experienced before the ever-encroaching darkness took him would be both the crowd’s raucous cheers, and the deafening curiosity from his foe.

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As Jake made his way out of the arena, he felt himself looking back at that moment. The air around his opponent suddenly changed, becoming hotter and more wild. It was less of a person he was fighting and seeming to more resemble an inferno.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our star of the night!” Jill said as she walked up to him, excitement in her voice. “How are you feeling after your first debut match? Got the blood pumping?”

“I just did my job,” Jake said, giving a light shrug. The crowd wanted something to watch. He delivered on that request.

“Oh, come on! Did you really feel nothing for that entire fight?” Jill asked, her brow furrowed.

As he looked back at the fight, Jake felt that odd drumming come back to his mind, however faint.

“I felt this…need to move, even when I knew it would serve no purpose,” he said to her. The urge to continue to move. To shake his hands, to bounce on the balls of his feet. The faint hint of drumming, not coming from his heart, nor from the music.

To move and move and move and move and move.

"Yeah, that just kinda happens. Nothing more than jitters," Jill said, giving him a small pat on the back before walking off. "You learn to live with it."

Yet, something about it seemed strange. It wasn't simply the feeling of a shaking body. Rather, it was melodic, a beating of a drum that would never cease.

Unequip.

As the pallid metal sunk into his skin, he slowly made his way out of the building, the faint drumbeat still continuing with each step. It was both foreign, yet strangely familiar.

Pushing the feeling aside, he continued home, the sound of cheering and music slowly fading into the background.

Yet, that drumbeat never fully left.