When your stylist dresses you for the arena, you can already make assumptions as to what lies ahead long before you feel the sun shining down on your cheeks. A tight, sleeveless wetsuit covers you from ankle to collars, leaving your arms free for motion. A singular diagonal stripe of colored cloth runs across the front, protecting the zipper from snagging on anything that might get in your way. Waterproof socks fit snuggly against your skin, clinging to the tops of your ankles. Black, rubber-like shoes promise to be durable against the environment but not heavy enough to drag you down. Despite your questioning, no jacket of any kind has been provided for you. Instead, a small black bag made of a waterproof material is added to your ensemble. Inside of it, you'll find nothing more than a plastic sheet and a book of matches. 

As the platform rises, you can already feel the humidity rushing against your face. Your body is sticky with sweat, but the material of your wetsuit seems to absorb the bulk of it. Your hair clings to the sides of your face, the thick air making every breath you draw in heavier and heavier in your lungs. The brightness of the arena blinds you, making you squint in the sun. Sand gathers in piles around your platform, stretching for miles across the rocky and uneven terrain.

The arena, as you'll soon come to find out, is an island. Surrounded on all sides by ocean, there isn't far you can run from your other competitors. Thick, yellow sand fills the beaches and clear waters promise hidden depths to any who dare underestimate them. The bulk of the island is dense green jungle, providing the only shade you'll find within the arena. Wild and exotic animals dot the forestry, their bright colors easy to spot. The uneven terrain and sudden drops will make travel difficult, but not impossible, and with the dark colors of your clothing, you'll be practically invisible come nightfall. Staying on the beach is not an option. At high tide, the waters will rush in to every camp placed along the sand. If you leave the island, you'll find small coves in the water that promise safety and isolation to any who can swim out that far.  Fish are abundant within the currents, but be warned that not everything you catch may be safe to eat.

Water will be your biggest adversary. With the high humidity and the blazing sun on your backs, dehydration is a real and deadly factor. Rain is possible, but the chances of it being safe to drink are unlikely. 

Instead of a Cornucopia, you will find a small wooden shack less than a hundred yards away from where you rise onto the beach. Broken and leaning, the shack is piled high with rotting wooden crates. Supplies can be found there, including the water you will come to cherish, but whether or not they've expired is yet to be seen. Any weapon you find will be ravaged by the effects of the sea as if it had washed ashore and made its home on the island long before you arrived. Not all the blades will be sharp. Not all the steel will be polished and free of rust. Edges will be jagged and corroded with time, perfect for ripping into flesh. 

***

Want to know what the other arenas were?

Choice Red was a snowy mountainside.

Choice Blue was a blistering desert.

And, if you had all failed to vote or voted with other choices (such as purple), we would have dropped you all at the base of an active volcano.