You SING. Just sing and sing and sing! It's beautiful and strong and different, and the life you could have had becomes a reality for just an instant. You see your parents, your friends, everybody who would be proud of the way you're finally singing.\n\nBut when you look outside, they aren't your friends. They're the little marsupials that will [[end your life|Death]].

The doors to the Colloseum swing open in front of you, and the light is blinding. But soon, the world comes into focus, and the ground itself is swimming with wombats. Little marsupials with no purpose but to make sure [[you die..|Death]]

hah lol ur just fukin crazy in here\n\nu die

What did you think was going to happen in Wombat Combat? \n\nYou're dead, the end.

You begin to sing, quietly. Shaky and unsteady, you remember the melody that defined your childhood. You always wished you could [[sing it well]], but you've always known aren't [[good enough to sing.]]

AHAHAHAHAHAH! YOU DON'T NEED TO THINK CLEARLY ANYMORE\n\nDON'T NEED TO BE SCARED\n\nDON'T NEED TO BE HAPPY\n\nDON'T NEED TO BE PROUD\n\nJUST NEED TO SING.\n\nsing so loud you forget what's around you, and just become [[something different..|crazy]]

You stay quiet, knowing that it's time to focus. Time to [[focus on what's in front of you]]. Or maybe just [[get your own head in order.|crazy]]

You never anticipated resistance, but here it is. At first one arm, than four. Before you know it, you're pulled back into the small platform of the elevator, and the doors slam shut climactically.\n\nYou could [[struggle]], but there's not much to do now but [[wait|let your future wash over you]].

You wail and belt, letting loose the tension you've held your whole life by singing the song of your people. The walls themselves seem to tell you\n\t"SHUT THE FUCK UP."\n\nYou become aware that guards are all around you, keeping you where you are.\n\nYou are something more than human though, something prouder. Something more ready. Something stronger. [[Something that has become one with their ancestors..|crazy]]

It's the longest wait of your life, but once it's over you just wish you could've chosen something different.\n\nThe doors close, and the platform creaks to life. You remember the hymns and songs of your old town, and the way they used to [[be so happy.]]\n\nBut it's for you to [[grow up|focus on what's in front of you]].

This is Wombat Combat. A fear washes over you, as those words play back in your head over and over again. The crowd is going wild in the Colosseum above you, and it's almost time for your fight.\n\nYou will be raised onto the stage by a small elevator any second now, but the doors haven't shut quite yet.\n\nIt's tempting to [[make a break for it]] and try your luck, but perhaps if you stopped now and [[let your future wash over you]] it would be easier to let it end[[.]]

You can be free. You KNOW you can! You can do it, if you just [[KEEP GOING|FUCKING LOUDER!]]

You're proud of who you are, damnit! You sing and sing and sing until your breath starts to draw short. When the light from the colloseum floods your little platform, you feel [[ready to die|Death]].

The song gets [[louder.]]\nand [[Louder]]\n\nand [[LOUDER]]\n\n\nAND [[FUCKING LOUDER!]]

Your resolve drops for an instant, before this confidence comes over you. You're halfway through the door before a pair of strong arms wraps around your shoulders.\n\n[[Fuck]], there are GUARDS? It can't end this way! [[You won't let it..|.]]

Self assured, your song resonates in your head as the doors to colloseum swing open. [[Time to die..|Death]]

A test of intrigue, deception, and murder most foul.

Anonymous

You punch out and kick and scream, making sure your captors feel every moment they resist you.\n\nYou know it's [[futile]], but you don't want to [[give up|let your future wash over you]] yet.