no subject

[ A start that Hallelujah intends to finish. Hux's shots ring out and he's off right after them, sleek kinetics illuminated by the bursts of muzzle fire in the dark. As soon as the echo of gunfire ceases, physical violence rushes in to take its place — the sickening sound of a fist impacting flesh, the crack of bone, a quick whisper of steel through muscle and the resulting gurgle of a man bleeding out. Hallelujah is indulgent but quick in his work of the men who'd been so kind as to come and greet them. There is nothing else in him but the swift, coursing instinct to survive and thereby destroy anything that stands in his way to do so. Bodies crumple, one after the other, and there's a brief laugh, the scuff of a boot on stone. ]

Sorry, there. [ Hallelujah drawls pointedly. ] But I'm only gonna need one of you from here on out.

[ A guide might be useful, after all. Even if Hallelujah's driven his dagger through the lucky contestant's shoulder to pin him for the time being. ]