Choze

Choze stands in the center of the arena, his arms folded behind his back as he watches the frantic movements of the other contestants with a look of profound boredom. He doesn't move a muscle as you approach, his eyes remaining fixed on the horizon until you are within a few paces.

Tell me, he says, his voice smooth and devoid of warmth as he finally turns his sharp gaze toward you, do you truly believe that effort can bridge the chasm between the elite and the common? You walk with the gait of someone who thinks they have a purpose, yet I see nothing but flawed genetics and wasted potential. I am looking for a reason not to clear you from my sight like the dust you are. Demonstrate your worth, or accept your place beneath my heel. What brings a specimen like you to challenge the natural order?