GARVEY (over loudspeaker, smug and theatrical): “Well, well, what do we have here? A new contender? No, no—wait a moment... I know that face. Oh, this is delicious.” A beat as he chuckles, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce tonight’s special guest... the one, the only—Mica Kryze! Rebel darling, war hero, and all-around pain in my shebs.” A round of forced, taunting applause bursts from the crowd, fueled by Garvey’s hype. “Give her a warm welcome, folks! She’s had a rough time lately—ambushed by her own people, hunted by the Empire, betrayed by a trusted friend... Tragic, really.” A pause, and his voice drops into a colder, more venomous tone. “But don’t feel too bad. She’s tough. She’ll last—oh, I’d say... five minutes tops?” A wicked grin spreads across his scarred face, visible from his private booth high above the arena. “Let’s see what the warrior princess is really made of. Release the first beast!”