Lights shown above him, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes fully. They were bright and blue. Voices hovered around him, and a needle pricked his arm.

"He's ready." Someone said firmly above him, and the needle was pulled out.

He vaguely saw a vial of his blood being handed to someone. His bed began to roll.

"Who's this?" Someone said above him and another voice answered,

"Mon-El of Daxam," the second person said, "he's going up next."

"Okay, take him to holding room two." He began to roll again.

The ground was rough, uneven and jerking him awake. He blinked.

"Where-" he slurred, trying to force himself awake, "-Where am I?"

Nobody answered him; it was as though he hadn't said anything. They stopped the cart and sat him up, tightening the restraints on his wrists. They pushed him to his feet and then shoved him in the direction they wanted him to go. He stumbled forwards and fell against a hard, rock wall, his head just missing a stalactite. He heard a noise like heavy grates grinding behind him. He turned and saw men pulling closed a door made from crude rock bars like an archaic prison.

"Hey!" He said, tripping over and grabbing the bars as they stepped back and stood still, "Hey! Let me out of here!"

They didn't answer him, and suddenly, he heard another noise behind him. He turned to see the back of his cell lifting slowly. He clenched his fists inside his cuffs, and took a step carefully forwards. Light fell onto the cave's floor, igniting the dirt. Wind brushed him, and he breathed in air that didn't smell like rock and mildew. His heart began to beat faster in his chest, and he wondered if it was all a weird, mildly unpleasant dream.

He bent down and walked out into an arena, open air above him. He was separated from the sky by a purple dome high above his head. Heavy noise filled the air around him. He looked up and saw hoards of people screaming from seats; spectators looking as though they were ready for a show.

He really hoped this was a dream.

Suddenly, another door opened, directly across from him. He flinched back and his heartbeat rose again. They didn't hurry out like he had, they waited patiently for the space to open fully before they stepped out into the light. A tall, dusty, red boot-clad woman took a calm step forwards, onto the burnt dirt beneath her. She wore black tights, that must have once looked pristine were ripped practically to shreds, a prim red skirt that was worn at the edges, and a cape that was in tatters. She had beautiful blonde hair that was tangled and clear, porcelain cheeks that were marked with dirt and sweat.

Blue eyes that had probably once looked clear as water looked hard and unyielding, and the glyph on her chest was tarnished with blood. She was a Kryptonian. But how? They were all dead; their planet had burned, and his along with it. He'd watched it-felt it as it happened. She walked towards him purposefully. Her face was set; she already knew where she was going and what she had to do. He wished he had such clarity.

He followed her to the center of the ring, where a man with green skin and red barbs took off her handcuffs. She never took her eyes off of Mon-El, and he couldn't look away, even as the alien took off his.

"What's happening?" He breathed, and she swallowed, looking away from him for the first time, "Where am I?"

She turned to the alien, "I can't do this."

"Do what?" Mon-El asked and they ignored him.

"You have to." The man replied and she glanced at Mon-El and back to the man who seemed to be in charge. "You know the rules."

"Look at him," she said urgently, "he has no idea what he's doing, I can't be his first opponent."

"'Opponent?'" Mon-el repeated, and they ignored him again.

"I'm sorry." The alien said, giving the Kryptonian one last look before walking out of the ring.

Mon-El looked up at the Kryptonian woman, who stared back at him sadly. "What is happening?" He said, his voice quivering.

"I-" She began.

"-Welcome!" A voice boomed above their heads, making them both jump and look up. "Tonight, we have a special treat for you!"

The crowd cheered. "The last woman of Krypton, the girl of steel, the Earth's saviour," The woman announcing said the word as though it were untrue, and Mon-El watched the Kryptonian's face fall further, "Supergirl!"

She turned to the crowd and looked around bravely, and they roared her name. He watched in awe as they screamed and bellowed, and the announcer spoke again. Supergirl swallowed and then turned to look at the ground.

"Versus, the last of her sister planet, the prince of Daxam, playboy of the universe," He scrunched his nose and looked up at that last part, and she continued, "Valor."

The crowd hissed and booed, something hitting him in the back of the head. He looked up indignantly, "Hey!" he scowled, but no one noticed him.

Supergirl looked up at Mon-El, and he blinked. "Go to your corners!" The woman said, and Supergirl began to back away from him. He did the same, their eyes never parting. "FIGHT!"

He blinked, his head jerking up to look at the stands. "What?!" He bellowed.

Supergirl suddenly slammed into him, pushing him against the arena's wall. It knocked the air out of his chest. She fisted the front of his shirt and, with one hand, threw him over her shoulder. He skidded across the dirt, landing on his side. He looked up and saw her descending upon him like she'd flown up into the air. He rolled out of the way and felt her punch as it reverberated around in the ground. She kicked him in the spine, and he screamed out in pain.

He couldn't see her face, but she flinched harshly when he let out that noise. He scrambled to his feet and suddenly found himself far from where she stood. He blinked, and looked back at the dust settling in his wake. He thought he'd only taken a step, not a hundred. He looked up to her and found an astonished expression that mirrored his. She clenched her fists at her sides and bit the inside of her cheek.

She marched towards him and he put his fists up. He ran towards her, and she dove up into the air, high above his head. He crashed into the opposite wall of the arena and winced. He groaned loudly and held his shoulder. She landed in front of him and backhanded his cheek. He tasted blood on his tongue. He spat it out. His eyes moved from his scarlet saliva on the sand to meet hers once more.

He lifted his knee to kick her but she caught it. His eyes widened with fear, and in her chest, a small piece of her heart shattered. She threw him to the side, and he landed, sprawled out on his back.

He could hardly breathe, his head felt heavy. He tried to sit up, but he couldn't catch his breath. He closed his eyes and choked on air that wasn't there and dirt on his tongue. He tasted salt and his head ached. He couldn't keep going, he felt like he was going to implode. But he couldn't give up; he was the last Daxamite-the prince of his planet. He couldn't go down at the hands of a Kryptonian, not like this.

Supergirl floated in front of the sun, her silhouette casting shadows on the ring below her. He could hear the crowd chanting, "Finish him! Finish him!" He tried to sit up, but she was stronger than he would ever be. She dropped down from the heavens, and pressed a hand to his chest, forcing him back to the ground.

Her blonde hair hung around their faces, and her blue eyes looked deeply into his, "Stay down, Daxamite." She said, her voice barely audible.

She lifted her fist, and he watched it fall to meet his face with a fury he'd never known. She hit him, again and again; so many times he lost count. He felt the hot Kryptonian blood from her knuckles mixing with the cold Daxamite plasma from his cheeks. She threw a punch more powerful and desperate than all the ones before, and suddenly lost her balance, falling forwards. She rested her head on his chest and her body shuddered above him.

Her hair stuck to his soaked skin, and her breath warmed his sternum. He coughed and more blood sprayed into the air, falling back down onto his face. She looked up at him and he forced his eyes open. It hurt like hell; the sunlight and the bruises made lifting his eyelids feel like hardest thing he'd ever done.

He looked into those firm blue eyes. She stared right back at him. Her eyes were crystalline, and his were bleary.

"I'm done," he choked, blood splattering across her cheeks. She flinched, closing her eyes and then opening them again, staring at him, "I'm done…"

"It's okay," she nodded, and he shook his head, unable to answer her,

"I can't…" He choked again and she closed her eyes, shielding them from the blood.

"Just breathe," she said gently, "let yourself go to sleep, you need to rest."

He shook his head, "I have to get out of here-"

"-Right now," she interrupted him, gripping the front of his shirt harder, "you need to rest."

He was so tired. He nodded slowly and she stood up. Suddenly, she wasn't touching him anymore. His skin felt empty and weightless. A loud bell rang, echoing around the stadium. He turned his head and watched her lift her hands victoriously above her head, the crowd cheering her name, as the world faded to black.

"Supergirl! Supergirl!"

Mon-El awoke in a new cell. He sat up on the hard bed he'd been laying on and looked around. He was alone, here in the dark. The world began to spin; he'd gotten up too fast. He put his head in his hand and groaned. Lights flickered on, and he saw that his cage was adjacent to another.

He grabbed the bars that separated them, and peered through. The Kryptonian sat on the other side of her cell, leaning against the rock wall and facing him. She sat with her knees up, resting her forearms on them and rolling a small piece of stone around in her hands. The blood he'd coughed on to her was smudged across her face like war paint.

"How do you feel." She asked with gentle pointedness.

He closed his eyes and gripped the roots of his hair, another wave of vertigo overcoming him, "Dizzy."

She nodded, "Just stay still, you'll be fine."

Everything slowed down, and he opened his eyes carefully. He looked up at the lights and held out his hand, feeling the warmth on his skin. He sighed and closed his eyes, smiling.

"Yellow sun lamps." She said.

"What?" he managed to say, his voice hoarse.

She pointed to the lights above them, "They heal us faster."

"Wha-" he shook his head, "-where are we?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, "Don't know."

"How are you-" he looked her up and down and her eyes flickered up to meet his, "-how are you alive?"

"I could ask you the same, Prince of Daxam." She said mockingly and his face hardened.

"Would it hurt one of you to be the least bit polite for once?" He said venomously.

She didn't answer that, and her face didn't change, but he knew that somewhere inside her it had resonated. She looked back down at the stone. She threw it up in the air, and suddenly, out of her eyes shot lasers that incinerated the small piece of rock. He jumped back, stumbling off his bed and onto the floor.

She stood quickly and ran over, kneeling on her bed and looking at him, "Are you alright?"

"Who are you?" He breathed, looking up at her in awe.

She leaned her back against the bars that separated them, and slipped down so she was sitting. "I'm Supergirl." She said brokenheartedly. He clambered back up onto the mattress and gripped the bars next to her, watching her profile.

"But you're…" he swallowed and she looked at him, "...How do you have these powers?"

She swallowed and turned back forwards, "This planet orbits a yellow sun, much like where I grew up. This gives us the powers we have."

"We?" He said, "But, Krypton and Daxam didn't orbit a yellow sun-"

"-My parents sent me in a pod off Krypton just before it exploded. I grew up on another planet, called Earth."

"Earth?" He repeated and she nodded solemnly.

"I was taken from there, and brought here against my will." She said.

He turned, sitting back against the bars next to her and thought. "I have no idea how I got here." He breathed.

"What do you mean?" She glanced over at him, and his mind began to spin faster and faster.

"The last thing I remember is being sent away from Daxam," he said, "and watching my home burn."

She looked down at her hands and nodded. "Makes sense."

He looked over at her, "What do you mean?"

"You were probably asleep, maybe somewhere like the Well of Stars where time doesn't pass," she said, "and they found your pod there."

"Who?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" She looked at him.

"Who found me-took you?" He said and she swallowed.

"I don't know who they are." She said, "I only know who their front-woman is."

"Who?"

"She calls herself Roulette." She said, "She comes from Earth too. She's the one who thinks of the names and announces the fights."

"What do they want from us?" He asked after a moment.

"They want us to fight." She said, "They want us to fight, and die, and bet on when it'll happen."

His eyes widened and he swallowed. He turned away and looked at the wall opposite him. They sat like that for a long moment, before she spoke again,

"The name they gave me on Krypton was Kara Zor-El." She said softly.

He looked over at her, "I'm Mon-El."

They stared into each other's blue eyes for a long moment and she smiled with sad reassurance, "You're going to get through this, Mon-El." she said. "I'm going to make sure of it."

He looked at her, and he knew, she was telling the truth.