The tournament, in fact, had actually began before it started. Few knew, but underground rings were hosting the brutal combat for the entertainment of each other. Mining as a hard, thankless and stressful job, not to mention dangerous. What better way to relieve the stresses of a day down the shaft than to blow out the insides of that prick who knocked you over, just about sending you to your early death that day?
For years these underground killing fest went on, either unnoticed or not cared about. After all, it was just another miner. If he didn't die in the contests, he probably would die at work eventually. And besides, a happy worker is a busy worker. Less stress produced better work for the people at the top.
Then it came to the point where the underground matched were getting out of control. The government, in a bold step that had the Antiwar types up in arms, legalized consensual murder. This in turn legalized all of the underground rings happening at that very moment. One of the megacorperations, Liandri, decided to fund a tournament, broadcast it on air, with pay per view matches, where the winners became Gods in their own right. Not unlike the Wrestling matches of old.
So, spending little on this project, more to just test the waters, Liandri bought few arenas, low-tech weaponry, and because of this, few hardened soldiers signed up. Most of the entrants were made up of drugged teens and rock and roll maniacs, looking for a cheep thrill, trying to impress some girl or all his mates. Looking tough.
Even so, the tournament made a massive impact on the populace. Everyone loved it. It was more than a method of killing off criminals and giving twenty-something guys the chance to show off their gall. In the gritty life of most all of earth, these blood drenched frenzies were insanely popular.
Liandri woke up to this realization, and knew they stood to make more profit on this than any of their other ventures. But, for this to happen, they needed a method of making champions. Kings of the tournament, known by everyone, everywhere. This was a challenge, as often the first match that a warrior lost meant a dirt nap.
There was technology on the market to 'respawn' a fallen soul. How it worked, few knew, but it worked, and that was that. It had cost Liandri a fair amount of money, but it was mere pocket change compared to what they had stored away. They invested in more arenas, more intricate and interesting, purchased a larger arsenal to equip their fighters, found new games, requiring more thought than 'kill the next person you see'.
They rigged up the new arenas with the 'respawn' technology. This cost more than anyone could imagine, and even Liandri felt a chunk of their immense wealth disappear. But, within the first few tournaments, the money came back threefold. This was how the tournament started.
The tournament continued to evolve. News reached all over the universe. Several alien species signed up to the events, drawing in more fans. Match types were introduced, such as capture the flag, domination, bombing run, each vastly different from the other, and all with their own intricacies and subtleties.
Eventually, the tournaments had warriors being sponsored, to fund teams and clans, creating another layer of depth to the tournament. No longer was it random fighters grouped to duke it out with another random group, but familiar faces fighting alongside one another, a name to chant as a crowd to support ones favorite alliance of warriors.
The tournament reached the point where it was a method of achieving greatness, becoming above whatever life you had. A chance to redeem one's Honor, if one had suffered or committed a great misdeed. A way to prove one still had a scrap of courage, and could still be counted amongst heroes.
And this is where our protagonist enters the story.