Impressive didn't even begin to describe the building. The grand swooping arches of bright white wood, their decorative curves and curls that seemed equally caved and naturally grown, the stone steps worn smooth by thousands of footsteps from excited spectators, the tiles of the roof matching the maroon leaves of the surrounding trees, and the lanterns, tucked away in their corners that would, when lit, make the building seem to glow from within; all of it was elegantly beautiful. It all stood in stark contrast to the displays of violence that took place inside.

"And you keep all of this a secret from your mother?" Zac asked.

"Umm, yeah," Sett answered, "pretty much."

"Huh."

Zac continued to marvel at the structure before him and found himself wondering how it was made. He could see no metal, no glass, no rivets, or pipes, or crucial air ducts, or anything really that was needed to construct something in Zaun. But as different as their construction methods had been, one thing about this building was just the same as many he had seen back home; it radiated wealth and power.

"It's much prettier," Zac said, "but it's like something a chem-baron would build. How did you afford it?"

"Let's see. It was a lotta hard work, a lotta pain, and a lotta knocked out teeth."

"Teeth?"

Now it really did sound like something a chem-baron would own.

"None of them were mine though," Sett reassured, "I've still got my winnin' smile."

"You do have a nice smile," Zac said as he tapped a finger to the jagged shapes he formed to mimic a mouth, "I still need to work on mine."

He had once managed to get the shape of his mouth to more closely resemble human teeth but not only did that take more conscious effort to upkeep, but the appearance had also been described to him as "uncanny."

"Then keep practicing. Lots of stuff to smile 'bout, especially in there," he gestured towards the massive building, "excited to get inside?"

"I am."

"They always are."

Zac followed Sett into the lobby. The curious architecture of both grown and carved wood continued into the spacious lobby. Support pillars looked as though they were grown up through the floor a large counter looked like a tree root curling protectively around an alcove. Behind it though was a slate board in a carved wooden frame. On the board, names and odds were listed.

"This board's been updated," Sett said with an approving nod, "I'll check on the other two later. I want you to meet the rest of my crew first."

"Is that who these people are?"

Zac pointed to a line of posters hung up on the wall. Each one showed a different fighter, posed in a fierce or triumphant way and all brandishing their favorite weapons before them. Zac was drawn to one in particular of an extraordinarily muscular woman with curled black horns and purple skin. He admired the detail the painter had put into it, noting the texture of her fur cape and ridges on her horns.

"Those are my fighters," Sett said, "but you won't be meetin' them all today. Most of 'em are home restin' up. The people here are the rest of the staff. Just as important, but not as flashy. They also don't have egos as big, which makes em more pleasant to be 'round as well. Those two other Zaunites are gonna be joinin' em and I wanna make sure that's goin' smoothly."

"Good," pulling his attention away from the posters, "I also wanted to check on them. I missed not having them around last night, but it was a nice evening with just the three of us."

"I won't argue 'bout that, Got nothin' against the kid, but I needed a break from him."

"Do you still plan on introducing them to your mother?"

"Course I do. Told her 'bout both of them in my letter to her. Just need to remind 'em that they absolutely cannot mention this place to her and ask the kid to not pick at that little scab he's got on his cheek durin' dinner. That's just poor table manners."

Sett led Zac through the building, passing other root like countertops set up to be betting counters or bars. There were plenty of places where a spectator could grab a drink, relax, and talk with others before returning to their seats, and no place was out of view from one of the many slates posting the odds of the night's fights. It seemed as though most of the first floor was made up one continuous lobby, stretching like a horseshoe around the building. At the end of one of the horseshoes was the first closed door Zac had seen in the building. There had been curtains and areas roped off, but this was the first real barrier.

"Here we are, backstage. It's not where the magic happens but this is where the important stuff happens, like making sure the coin is all accounted for."

From his pocket, Sett produced a key and opened it.

Zac cautioned a peek into the room. Around two dozen people, both humans and Vastaya, were chatting amongst themselves in several groups. As Sett had mentioned, most of the people did not appear to be fighters, save for one group in the corner that contained the purple woman from the poster Zac had been admiring. He was pleased to see that the two Zaunites Sett had hired to be fighters were standing alongside the others, participating in whatever conversation they were having.

He continued to search the crowd for the other two, spotting Mairead speaking with an elderly looking Vastayan, clearly interested in comparing how the Vastayan's clothing was tailored to fit additional limbs and how it compared to her past work making augmentation accommodating clothing, and Izzy nervously talking to woman with an irritated expression on her face. Even over the mixed chatter of the crowd, the young man's heavily accented Ionian could be heard stumbling through a sentence.

"I would be liking a red fruits please."

"Ah," an exasperated sigh responded, "the pronunciation is off and you made it plural. Come on kid, the Shuriman speaks better Ionian and she lost half her tongue last month!"

"Hey," Sett called as he entered the room.

At the sound of their boss's voice, the people gathered in the room turned to face Sett.

"Good morning boss,' the woman who had been admonishing Izzy said in a far friendlier tone, "How are you? I was just working on improving the new hire's Ionian. He sounds like an overly formal toddler right now. Trying to fix that."

"Appreciate it," Sett said, "and I'd appreciate it more if you weren't so harsh with the kid. He's new to the whole Ionian thing. Language is tough. How's your Piltovan?"

"Flawless, sir, as is my Shuriman, Noxian, and Demacian. It's why you hired me as a translator."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I. Didn't hire him as one though. So please, you do your job and he'll do his and if there's time after that you can help him go from being an overly formal toddler to an overly formal child."

"Alright, boss, alright," she said, "just thought that since he's going to be here, he should at least know how to ask for food."

She gave a quick nod to Sett and went off to stand back with others in his employ.

"Don't mind her too much," Sett said as he went over to Izzy, "Piltover is a bit of a sore spot for her right now. 'Bout two months ago her lover ran off with some Piltovan across the see."

"I am not Piltovan," Izzy said.

"You speak the language though and right now, I think that's enough to get on her bad side."

Izzy sighed.

"She'll get over it," Sett said and gave Izzy a clap on the back, sending the much smaller Zaunite stumbling forward, "but she's right that you should still practice your Ionian."

"I will be, boss."

Sett strode to the front of the room.

"Alright, listen up, everyone" he said, "got an announcement to make. Got some new folks joinin' the crew. I like to think most of you have all been nice and met 'em already, so I'll keep introductions short. They're all from Zaun. There's Mairead, she's gonna be our seamstress. She'll help with rips and tears and getting' the blood outta your clothes. Izzy is gonna help out with the augments things I mentioned before. And Lena and Gillis, they'll both be fighters. That'sa 'bout it. If you want to get to know 'em better, talk to 'em."

"Excuse me, boss," the purple woman spoke up.

"Yeah?"

"What's that?" she pointed towards the door, "Keeping surprises from us?"

"I was getting to him. I said I was done with the new crew members. He's not one of 'em. He's a guest, so be nice, alright?"

Sett waved Zac over.

"Every one, this is Zac."

"Hello," Zac said.

He stepped into the room, taking in the various expressions of those gathered, as he went to stand by Sett.

"I'm Zac," he continued, "it is nice to meet you all."

There was a mixture of hushed responses, but much to Zac's relief, he sensed no fear in the crowd, but instead curiosity, surprise, and excitement.

"Woah," the fighter from before chuckled, "where did you find this guy? He's huge!"

"I'm from Zaun," Zac answered, "and Sett didn't find me. I found him. There were thugs bothering Izzy and Mairead. Sett was trying to protect them. He looked like he needed help, so I stepped in."

"Is that so," the fighter said, a smirk crossing her broad face, "you needed help, boss?"

"They outnumbered me, yeah," Sett said with a shrug, "but it was still going to be an even fight."

"Uh-huh," she nodded, "So, uh, Zac you said your name was?"

"Yes."

"Name's Kolo," she said.

She held out her hand and Zac took it to shake. Her grip was strong and Zac could feel the rough bumps of callouses and knobby bones that had been broken and healed many times.

"She's one of the best pit fighters here," Sett said.

"And I'm proud of that," Kolo said, "Now, back to the conversation we were having. You said that you fought alongside the boss, right?"

"I did."

"And he's a fantastic fighter," Sett added.

"So is he gonna fight in the pits?"

"I don't know yet," Zac answered.

"Why not?" Kolo asked, "Boss says you're a good fighter, which is good enough for me to be convinced that you should fight, and on top of it, you could make a decent amount of money, afford a little taste of the high life."

"I don't like hurting people."

"You don't? Then why did you come all the way from Zaun with the boss?"

"To take a break from the city. I wanted some peace."

She blinked in surprise.

"You followed Sett, looking for peace?"

"Yeah."

"Now please don't take this the wrong way but," and she barked out a few hardy chuckles, "I'm sorry, but it's just funny. He's the least peaceful person in Ionia I know."

"That's good to hear," Zac said approvingly.

"Huh?"

"If he's the least peaceful person in Ionia, then this is a good place for me to rest."

Sett smirked.

"Just like I said it would be and maybe there could still be some time for one or two bouts in there between all the relaxin'?"

"I'm still thinking about it."

"Maybe think less and just act," Kolo said, "tomorrow night we open back up and I can feel that it's going to be a big crowd. You absence was made them hungry, boss, why not serve them something exotic from abroad?"

"I hired two people from Zaun to fight, Zac isn't one of 'em," Sett said, "as much as I would like him to. It's his choice."

Kolo turned to Zac.

"You should," she said, "imagine it, hundreds of people, all focused on you."

"Hmm,"

Zac's body rippled as he hummed. This idea flew directly counter to everything he had tried to practice in Zaun; stay hidden, stay safe, and only fight when you need to and Baron Takeda won't find you.

"And all these people will be cheering for you."

Now that was something that did appeal to him: positive emotions being showered down upon him. But, wouldn't there also be negative emotions from those who would want the other fighter to win? That thought once again left him feeling unsure about the whole thing.

"I'm still thinking about it," he repeated.

Kolo's brow furrowed, still unsure how anyone like him could resist the allure of the pit, and she looked like she was about to make another attempt at convincing Zac, but Sett cut her off.

"Fights are still a day away," he said, "thoughts can change. Right now, maybe you should get some extra trainin' in, eh Kolo?"

"Yeah, I suppose. Zac, hope to see you around."

"Good-bye."

"Alright," Sett said when she had rejoined the other fighters, "follow me. One more place I want to show you."

Sett led Zac up a staircase secluded away from the main hallways of the building and onto a private balcony. It was sparsely furnished, with most of the space being occupied by a single throne draped in plush fabric.

"Best seat in the house," Sett commented as he went to stand beside it.

Zac walked to the edge and gently gripped the railing as he looked out over the arena. The grand architecture of the building's exterior was replicated again here, with the strange white wood warped so that its limbs braided like a garden terrace, forming railings and balconies for the spectating alcoves. Banners of maroon and gold were tied to the columns, forming a brilliantly colored canopy among the living structure. The pit itself though, was brutally simple by comparison; just a flat floor of pale sand.

"And if you think it looks good now," Sett said, "I can promise you, it looks even better when it's packed."

"I can imagine," Zac agreed.

"People from all over, all walks of life, gathered together for their shared desire for blood sport."

For a second time that afternoon, Zac found himself to have conflicting opinions about the place. On the one hand, people coming together to enjoy a common thing was a good thing. On the other hand, that thing was blood sport. So his response was a very neutral "huh."

A vibration through the railing turned Zac's attention to next to him. Sett had come over and was drumming his fingers over the wood.

"You gonna tell me what's on your mind?" he asked.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You don't make many facial expressions, but I think I caught your uncomfortable one once or twice back there. So, what's on your mind? Is it the crowd?"

"No. They weren't afraid of me so I didn't mind being seen by them."

"So was it somethin' else?"

"Yeah."

Zac focused his thoughts for a moment on the grain of the wood under his hand, letting the smooth texture of the bark calm his mind before speaking again.

"This is not the first arena I have fought in. Deep in the Sump, I had been moving through drains when I overheard a person screaming. Sound can travel very far through some pipes. I followed the noise back and found myself in a large floor drain. I peeked an eye out and saw that I was in the corner of pit with high walls. And then I saw the blood stains on the floor."

"I heard the scream again and a large door was shoved open on one side of the pit. Two people with weapons were dragging out the screaming man. He was beginning them to let him go and promising that he could get the money he owed them. They punched him in the gut so hard he threw up and dropped him. Then another man jumped down into the arena. He was much bigger and had an arm augmentation and several injection pumps on his shoulders. He told the smaller man that if he beat him in a fight, his debt would be absolved. If he lost, he would be killed."

"Not too different from the kid's story, huh?" Sett commented.

"It's a sad pattern in Zaun," Zac nodded somberly, "I couldn't let it happen, not when I could stop it. I pushed myself through the grate and into the pit and I attacked the thug. I punched him in his augment and let my body turn runny. I slipped it through the gaps in his augment, gumming up the machinery so he couldn't move the arm. Then I shifted more of my mass into it and burst it from the inside out. He screamed a lot and I got his chems and blood mixed into me. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't pleasant."

"I suppose that makes sense," Sett said, "You're made of chems, so getting more into you probably feels, I dunno, normal? But blood or somethin' else organic feels what, sticky? Slimy? Ah, just not right."

Zac nodded.

"It was okay though. I saved the man. He ran off afraid, but he was safe. The other gangsters weren't. That place was full of so many bad feelings and they all sunk into me. I got mad, real mad. I crushed the others, stomped them and smashed them, threw them into walls and against each other. I even killed one of them. And the more I fought, the more those bad feelings filled me. I really became like a monster. I am afraid that will happen again and that I might damage your nice building or hurt someone too badly."

An enraged Zac fight would certainly be a sight to behold. Sett remembered how fierce he had been in Zaun and how that had been Zac in control of his emotions. It would be quite the spectacle for the crowds, he had no doubt, but he understood why Zac wouldn't want to put that side of him on fully display. There were many things he had done while in a rage that he was not proud of. He tried to ease Zac's worries.

"I don't think that will happen," he said, "you withstood my anger when it was at its worst. Nothin' that happens in this arena will be as bad as that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"One, nothin' and I mean nothin' in Ionia is angrier than me when someone insults my momma. Two, my pit, it's not some Noxian Reckoner arena or some shady Zaunite gang's execution hole. Nobody is here cause I'm forcin' them to be. They're here because they want to be. Might not always like what happens to 'em once they get in the ring. Some bite off more than they can chew. Some even lose their lives. But they all step in on their own."

"I believe you," Zac said, "Your personality can be forceful, but I do not think you would ever force someone into your arena. You're too kind for that."

"Kind?" Sett said in a hushed hiss, "you hush with that 'round here. Got a reputation to uphold. Can't have people thinkin' I'm soft and kind. You can all me fair though."

At this, Zac smiled and the tension (if his gelatinous body could ever really be considered tense) finally relaxed.

"Okay," he said, "you are a very fair person."

"That's better," Sett said with a nod, "In all seriousness though Zac, I ain't gonna force you to fight if you don't want to. I'll respect your choice."

"Hmm,"

Ripples spread across Zac's body as he thought. He believed that Sett would respect his choice, of that, there was no doubt. However, he could feel Sett's eager hopefulness that he would agree to fight. It was a strong emotion and though was clearly trying to mask it with humor and feigned anger, Zac could still sense how strong his friend's desire was. He had a choice to make. Do what he wanted and avoid conflict and actually try and relax on his vacation or fight and make his friend happy as a thank-you for bringing him here? Zac did what he thought was best.

"Alright," he said, "I'll fight a round."