Oliver stepped into the arena just in time to hear Weber's intro. He had a bag tied at his waist, the weight of Anna's gun heavy in it, but it was closed and not easily accessible. He was, for all appearances, unarmed. He wondered idly if that was why Weber had said this wasn't a fair fight. Or did he really know as much about them as he was implying? From their earlier conversation, he had a feeling that he did.

But he knew that was neither here nor there at the moment. Weber wasn't going to do anything to stop this fight, and as Oliver saw the hourglass start to run, he quickly turned his attention away from him. He couldn't waste time. If that hourglass ran out, everything would be lost.

Oliver took a deep breath, focusing on his opponent. He tried to block out the sounds he could hear from the stands. Mu had been right; he did wish that the circumstances of this fight could at least be different. He didn't want to think about the people watching. He had friends up there, and the idea of them having to watch him die was even worse than the thought of dying. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

For a moment, he wondered if Robespierre would act right away--if it would just be over, maybe in a flash of magic. But when it became clear that his opponent wasn't going to make the first move, he opened his mouth to say something. Unfortunately, he found it had gone completely dry. Swallowing hard, he tried again. "Robespierre...what do you want to do?"