Yo, wazzup? Anyway, Shimmerstar1212 here with another fantastical story! (Hopefully…)

Allegiances:

The Cagers:

Fighters(cats who fight in the Cage)-

Flashstar- tall yellow she-cat with white speckles and green eyes. Master- Shard

Wildcry- black she-cat with orange splotches and amber eyes. Master- Crow

Adderclaw- gray tom with blue eyes. Master- Broken

Blaze- russet tom with gray markings and blue eyes. Master- Peak

Char- dark gray she-cat with black paws and amber eyes. Master- Flint

Ghost- pale gray tom with dark gray tabby markings and green eyes. Master- Wraith

Crest- dark brown tom with creamy markings and green eyes. Master- Pyro

Futures(cats in the market to become Fighters)-

Reaper- huge dark gray tom with thick black stripes and amber eyes

Smoke- pale gray she-cat with blue eyes

Longscar- pale yellow tom with silver tabby stripes and green eyes and a long scar snaking from his shoulder to the base of his tail

Frost- black tom with a gray tail tip and amber eyes

Holly- red orange she-cat with white splotches and blue eyes

Masters(cats who own the Fighters)-

Shard- black tom with white stripes and blue eyes

Crow- black tom with green eyes

Broken- creamy brown tom with green eyes and a broken foot

Peak- brown tom with blue eyes

Flint- gray-blue tom with amber eyes

Wraith- gray she-cat with white paws and blue eyes

Pyro- red orange she-cat with green eyes

Prologue:

"Crest! Crest! Crest!" Cats of all different colors and sizes surrounded the metal bars of the Cage, fur bristling with excitement as they chanted the Fighter's name.

A dark brown tom crouched low in the center, green eyes narrowed in concentration. A ginger she-cat stood opposite of him, tail lashing in anger and fear.

With the cheers of the crowd booming in his ears, Crest lunged forward, catching the she-cat in her left eye and slicing her shoulder with his free paw.

With an agonized cry, she was thrown back, slamming hard into the metallic sides of the enclosure.

More yowls of approval echoed from the gathered cats as he pinned her down, eyes glittering with malice.

"Finish it!" a gray tom shouted, pressing up against the sides.

As if seeking guidance, Crest swept his gaze out to a small group of seven cats who were on the opposite side as the onlookers, each assessing his every move and breath.

A tall red-orange she-cat nodded, her expression monotone.

Grinning, Crest snapped his head down, latching his teeth into his competitor's neck and pressing in until he felt the bones begin to crack.

Without so much as a grunt, the body flopped to the ground, lifeless as the cold metal it was surrounded by.

The crowd roared, hungry for more, much to Crest's disgust. He hadn't wanted to kill that cat, but it was necessary for his own survival. All that mattered was surviving. And there was no way in hell that he was going to lose while Pyro was his Master. He'd really be risking his neck, then…

"Crest!" The commanding yet emotionless voice sounded form behind.

The tom whipped around to see Pyro stalking towards him, green eyes portraying nothing as usual.

"We need to leave. Before the crowd becomes any crazier," she meowed, flicking her tail.

He merely nodded, stepping in line behind her and obediently following like a lost kit.

They weaved in and out among the cats, destination in mind. He stared blackly ahead, avoiding the gaze of some of the other Fighters.

"I forgot to mention," Pyro growled as they neared the tiny, run down Twoleg building that served as the Fighters' quarters, "you have a few new roommates. Have fun."

She left him without another word, tail lashing.

Now curious, Crest warily padded into the building, head low.

"Let us go!"

His ears perked as an angry screech came to his ears on the breeze.

A muffled reply met the cat's words.

"Weak? You risk your tail when you call warriors of Nightclan weak!"