DESCRIPTION: The breeze yelled wildly through the iron towers of the drifting Sky sword arena, high over the rough East China Ocean. Inside his confidential perception relax, Chen Lu watched the tempest’s fierceness with a flash of harmful fervor in his eyes. Following quite a while of arrangements both public and undercover, his vision was minutes from being understood. Underneath, many the world’s most noteworthy ethereal warriors amassed the airborne field in their repulsive force suits, enthusiastically anticipating the first matches to start. Much to their dismay the genuine reason their abilities and acclaim would serve today. Chen tasted gently from a woodwind of champagne, enjoying the debauched taste of control soon to come. His enemies excused his desires as whimsical; however through Bai she Aviation, he had produced the weapons and means to recover what was tragically missing. No longer would China bow toward the West and its paper winged serpents. The ability to run the skies would be theirs, exhibited before the eyes of a crowd of people soon to act as accidental observers. As the initial services initiated, Chen studied the opposition through strategic showcases, dissecting battling styles and laying out mental profiles. All potential dangers were reported – all with the exception of one. At the most distant edge of the arena, a Korean veteran got his look, developments bearing an unmistakable quiet in the midst of the mayhem. This ‘Tae-hoon’ charmed Chen, whose impulses murmurs of risk, of a x-factor equipped for upsetting everything. Regardless. Inside the hour, Chen’s ruses would change the upbeat scene beneath into an exhibit of could that would stun the watching scene. None could disrupt the general flow of predetermination – not even this neglected shadow from before. The skies had a place with the future, and that future was Chinese. Allow the games to start.