It was going to be a magnificent arena. Lorenzo was sure of it. With his tattoo magic, he would craft a place so incredible that the elites would flock here for brilliant entertainment like moths to a flame. Little did they know, they would be the gladiators out in the centre, fighting for their lives.
There was no doubt that this plan would work to perfection. After all, one thing the elites of the city lacked was entertainment. They’d take any opportunity to have a bit of fun. That was the brilliance of Gideon Nightshade’s plan. Infiltrate their homes, lure them away, and then cause the complete collapse of elite society.
Lorenzo worked almost absent-mindedly, sitting atop a large hill, overlooking the stadium he built with the magic infused in his tattoos. The ink he’d once gotten from a tattoo shop close to Brisbane had long ago faded, now replaced by Gideon’s new tattoo artist. The intricate designs were chosen specifically for this task, every inch of his body covered runes that gave the power of geomancy and metallurgy, allowing him to build a magnificent stadium using only his mind.
Sometimes, Lorenzo did miss that old tattoo shop he used to frequent, back on the surface. The one with the Japanese tattooist Brisbane residents could trust with their lives. But life had moved on, particularly because the surface was no longer habitable. He served Gideon now, for the man had given him a new chance at life in the underground.
It hadn’t always been easy, given the things he’d had to do. Lorenzo did enjoy the irony, however, that despite how much Gideon hated Lorenzo’s tattoos, he always had a use for them. Gideon’s plans would never succeed if not for the ink across Lorenzo’s body.
The project would take weeks and several new tattoos, Lorenzo knew. He’d be exhausted by the end of it, building an entire stadium on his own, but it would be worth the time and effort in the end.