Megatron drummed his fingers against the throne. He was glad that his room had a throne; however, he was displeased that it was the only feature of the room. There could at least be a stasis-lock chamber. Then I wouldn't have to deal with all of this waiting, yes. The Predacon searched the room for the speaker that would announce that the challenge would begin, but he couldn't find one. The Master of Games must use some other form of voice projection.
"Megatron, you may now exit through your door. It will lead you to your prep room and your team." Megatron chuckled. So he's got my team arranged already? I guess he figures that cheating is necessary to get ahead. I won't argue with his logic, no. He stood and walked through the door to find the team from the last challenge- The demonic warrior Nightmare and his cursed sword Soul Edge; a Yautja, an alien hunter more commonly known as the Predator, and the Xenomorph- apparently something the Predator hunted once. The AI piloted robot, Nineball, was absent. They stood at their equipment racks, fitting armor to themselves and loading weapons. The Master of Games' voice echoed in the chamber.
"As you can see, I'm giving you a head start on team-building. Large mecha like Nineball have been excluded from this challenge, but I've provided you a replacement for him- you'll have to find him in the arena. He'll be a bit of a secret weapon. Now do me a favor, and don't let me down again." There was an awkward silence among the warriors. Megatron would not let it last. "You heard him. We're not letting him down again." The doors of the prep room opened, and they stepped into a thick forest. Megatron saw through the trees that there was a clearing ahead. In the center of the clearing, a man sat by a fire. He seemed to be cooking something on a spit.
Megatron turned to his team, and gave a nod to the Predator and the Xenomorph. The alien warrior cloaked himself, and the Xenomorph bounded ahead on all fours. The two approached the man, who seemed to be completely unaware. The Predator knelt just a few feet in front of the man, and the Xenomorph had crawled behind him. The Predator made a quiet clicking noise, and the Xenomorph began to rise, unleashing a terrible scream. The man didn't even turn to face the monster. Instead, he removed what he was cooking on the spit and held it out behind him.
"Well, are you hungry or not?"
The Xenomorph sniffed at the charred substance, and snatched it away greedily. It sat like an oversized dog, chewing hungrily at the food. The Predator stood and uncloaked in amazement. The man showed no sign of surprise. "Don't tell me you want some too. I'm plumb out."
The Predator scratched its head and waved Megatron and Nightmare over. As the other two approached, the man did not run. He merely stood and observed the team assembling around him. "So, you're the bunch of odd folks I was told to expect." Nightmare was confused.
"Surely this maggot cannot be our 'secret weapon!'"
Megatron scolded the demon. "Is that any way to treat an honored team member?" He turned to the man, who was brushing soot off of his home-made leather jacket. "Now, what exactly do you do?" The man stroked his short beard in thought.
"Well, I don't think I'm much of anything. Folks say all sorts of things about me."
Megatron was a little annoyed by the indirect response. "And what do these… folks say about you?"
"They say I can sing, but I doubt that's what you're looking for. They say I'm a pretty decent shot, too," he said, gesturing to a bow on the ground. Megatron looked at the bow, and back at the man. Then the answer struck him.
"Sir, what is your name?"
The man did not answer, but he did laugh softly. He picked up his bow and began to amble towards the woods on the other side of the clearing. Megatron and the other warriors followed, amazed and dumbstruck by the man.