Kain finishes applauding after seemingly having his eyes elsewhere on some other match, and looks down over the arena where Trubbol and a human in gaudy robes and jewelry. He wipes a tear from his eye, looks at the two fighters, and explains "Oh, what a glorious match. Too bad you'll never see it. BUT FOR NOW -"
The demonic figure sweeps his hand across the arena in front of him, pulling up giant pillars with mirrors all across their surfaces. Many of them are cracked, dirty, and bloodcaked, but still can reflect the ground, the fighters, and even other pillars.
"While some of you may have read up on Trubbolsworth, we bring to you an older fighter, one who has survived and left once before!" Kain cries out. "Hailing from Britain, 1818, in the greatest of alternate universes, the Gods bring you Phonay, the Grand Illusionist, with mastery of combat and trickery alike!"
Phonay grins to Trubbol and waves yet another mirror at him, one reflecting a red laser.
"FIIIIIIGHT!"