A shiver raced across Alex Blackwell’s body, pulling him from his coma-like slumber. A haze covered his mind that made thinking impossible. He tried to push out of the haze of his awareness only to meet a piercing cold, that struck him to his core.

He subconsciously curled his knees to his chest, wanting to sink back into the darkness. The motion had the opposite effect, releasing what little heat had gathered around him. Goose pimples rose across his body as the cold sought to drive him from his slumber.

The darkness fought back shadowy tendrils reaching to pull him back into unconsciousness. As he descended back into the shadowy abyss, banging sounded sending vibrations through his body.

The mix of stomping and shouting roused him once more. His senses were fuzzy as his mind slowly processed the information. Knocking? His sister? She was trying to wake him? Couldn’t she find a better way than tearing his door down?

Taking a deep breath, he instantly regretted his simple action. His body shuttered, unfortunately not from the cold. That smell... If the cold and noise had been nudging him, then the smell had struck him out of his numb sleep.

He could feel it now, his lungs were raw, and dry eyes began watering. The tears allowed him to slightly pull his eyelids apart but that was it. He rubbed away the crust that had developed on his eyes. Did a cat sneak in and shit in his room? Trying to not breathe while slowly blinking away the blurriness in his eyes, his hands reached down to lift him from his bed. Dirt?

Why did he feel dirt? Up to this point, his blurry awareness had taken in everything separately. The cold, noise, and smell could all be explained by his unconscious mind. Now as he touched the dirt all the different signs connected together. Waking up he could no longer ignore them. His eyes snapped open, pulling past any resistance and quickly the blurriness left him.

His demeanor underwent a radical change. His eyes narrowed as he swiftly absorbed everything in his surroundings. He judged nothing simply taking the information in. After scanning the area, he scooted backward positioning himself against the cold metal bars.

In a less vulnerable position, he began integrating the information he had taken in. He was in a cell roughly five yards by five yards. Within it were ten other people, meaning everyone could have their backs against the wall with a little bit of room. One corner had no one, but there was a pile of waste that must be the source of the eye-watering smell. How long had the people been here to create a pile like that?

For now, that didn’t matter as he continued processing his situation. Just beyond the metal bars his back laid on was a dirt wall that shot up to the ceiling. On the ceiling, a dim glowing crystal cast a yellow light within the cell. Creating a small amount of visibility within the cage.

The other nine people had either not woken up or had their heads hung low, trying to not bring attention to themselves. Everyone wore gray boxer shorts, including him, which didn’t help the shiver that shook him from time to time.

To his left and right were more cells. A single yellow crystal hung above each cell, allowing him to see inside the nearest cells to him. The layout was the same as his cell. The number of people in each cell was ten and they all wore boxers with no other amenities.

His eyes followed the row of crystals on the ceiling that lit each cell. There was no end to the yellow lights, as far as he could tell. They simply continued until the light faded to the degree where he couldn’t see them anymore. Hundreds of cells? Thousands? For now, it didn’t matter.

Changing his focus from the cells on each side of him to the ones in front of him. He quickly noticed the situation was better in the cells in front of him. Just the number of people went from ten to five. Then there was a certain glow to the people in the cells. Something he couldn’t explain properly to himself, they simply seemed to be filled with endless energy.

Finally, they had comfort items, like water bottles, blankets, and a bathroom. He needed more information than this. The cold bars were drawing precious heat from his body. Leaning forward he kept his back off of the cold metal. Alex did not know what to do. His 20 years of life had not prepared him for a moment like this.

Brushing his black hair out of his eyes he turned to the old man to the right of him. He seemed to be partly of Asian descent. He had a white stubble beard and appeared to be 70 years old, maybe even older. He had white hair on the sides of his head but none on the top. The man’s body did not shake, which concerned him. Wasn’t the sign of hyperthermia that you quit shivering?

“Do you know what is going on?” Alex asked.

The old man slowly moved his head up, opening his eyes.

“Wait a moment and it will be explained to you.” The old man said weakly.

Alex frowned. The old man's response did not help his confusion in the slightest. He would have pushed it but the old man's voice sounded weak. A turbid voice on the verge of death, lacking any of the color of life. Alex knew this shade of gray well and so he left the old man alone.

He surveyed everyone a second time, his frown deepening. Their eyes were vacant staring off into nothing. Shouldn’t someone be shouting or yelling or even freaking out? He turned to the old man again. Moments before he had been sitting there with his eyes closed. Now, the old man's eyes were open staring blankly into nothing. The lack of life within the old man seemed to be replaced with something else he couldn’t place. Examining closer, he saw a small token in the man's hand.

Alex felt three different sensations at once. First, a token appeared between his fingers, a cord bound through it. Second, a bright blue screen flashed in his eyes blinding him. Third, a loud booming voice entered his ears. Even as he closed his eyes, the screen was still there. He stayed calm even at the strangeness of the situation.

Gathering himself, he noticed the voice was reading what was printed on the blue screen in front of him. Hoping to receive some answers, he listened closely to the strange voice, reading along.

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“Welcome to the Colosseum! The Creator of Gods! The House of Slaughter! I am the spirit of the Colosseum, everything within is in my control. Depending on your personality, the Colosseum will be a springboard into your greatest future or a death sentence. Over the next five days, you will fight once a day within the Colosseum. Each time you win you will receive a reward, with a special reward on the fifth day!

I, Colosseum, want you to succeed. I will provide you with the tools you need to win, survive, and see another day. While I will give you tools, it is up to you to fully grasp them. In doing so you will not only live but be rewarded beyond your wildest imagination. Each day the difficulty of your fight will increase but so will your rewards. Continue to fight and win, and you will gain the power to earn back your freedom.

There is no fighting in the cages or stealing others' possessions. In doing so, you will be directly going against me, resulting in swift and deadly action. Only in the arena are the rules kill or be killed.

The token placed within your hand has been blood-bonded with you. Right now, its uses are limited to notifications and your status screen. Notifications are my way of communicating with you and they are one way.

By simply saying or thinking ‘status,’ your status will be projected into your mind just like the notifications. I have scanned your body allowing me to see your talents. Your talents are based on your strengths, weaknesses, personality, and tendencies. They have all been laid bare before me and I have outlined a rough baseline for you to follow.

You do not have to follow what your talents are but I suggest you do. Some have succeeded in taking a path that does not align with them but most have failed. For now, I suggest you focus on your weapon talent, which will allow you to survive up to your fifth fight.

There is one opportunity waiting for you before the fight. The opportunity will appear after you have processed the information given in your status screen and notifications. Don’t forget: It’s kill or be killed. Let's find out what you're capable of, good luck!”

After he read the message he felt some of his confusion clear up. He even felt something spark within him but the feeling quickly faded. All he knew was that he wanted to quickly go through his notifications and status screen to learn more.

First, he placed the cord around his neck letting the token fall onto his chest. This token seemed important and he wanted it close to his body. Then he inhaled deeply to make sure he properly processed the information that was to follow.

Regretting that decision as the smell assaulted him but he still felt his mind was clearer after. Status. He thought. A new window appeared in front of him, pushing the other to the side. A secondary notification appeared underneath the status explaining what the status screen meant.

Fight 1: 10:36: 29

Inferior Human: Alex Blackwell

Credits: 0

Items: Tier 1 Spirit Token, Boxers

Cultivation: Realm 1 Step 0

Intent: None

“There are four types of weapon talents. The first talent is blades, including swords, sabers, axes, knives, etc. The second talent is spears, including spears, arrows, needles, daggers, etc. The third talent is blunt weapons, including maces, hammers, etc. The fourth talent is martial arts, using any part of one’s body: fists, palms, elbows, knees, legs, etc.

Your personal weapon talent is spears. Meaning, any spear-type weapons would be potential matches for you. What you choose is completely up to you.

The main 12 elements are fire, water, earth, air, lightning, ice, metal, poison, light, dark, life, and death. There are many other elements one can cultivate such as blood, bone, slaughter, nature, sun, moon, etc. The 12 main elements are always a good place to start.

You are aligned with ice, darkness, death, poison, and fire. As an inferior human, you can cultivate any elements and align with them naturally or through numerous other means. Meaning you do not have to let your elemental talents hold you back if you feel resonance with different elements.”

He swallowed, eyes focusing on a single line, his fight was in ten and a half hours. He felt his heartbeat speed up. When was the last time he felt something like this? When he fought with the fool that chased after his sister? He had felt something when he had fought him back then a faint spark. And now a similar feeling filled him. Fear? No. Excitement? Maybe. fear?

Alex wasn’t sure, they were too similar and too long had passed since he felt anything similar. He didn't understand what he was feeling, so thinking more about the topic was pointless. Whatever was communicating with him through the token had said its name was Colosseum, a spirit of the place he was in. He would simply call the spirit Colosseum then. If he didn’t adapt to this strange reality fast he would die in ten hours.

Cultivation? He was unsure of the meaning of this. Spears, arrows, needles, daggers… Daggers? When he was six he remembered thinking that being an assassin would be cool. He hadn’t dreamt of being anything for a decade though. Being an assassin may have looked cool to his younger self. But when he was stuck in a place like the Roman Colosseum and told he would need to fight and kill, maybe not so much.

His thoughts changed direction. Would he be forced to kill other humans? He scanned the others around him. Would he be forced to kill them? Would he do it? Yes. Would he care? He wasn’t sure. He never regretted ruining that fool’s hopes and dreams.

Elemental talents? This was confusing. At least weapon talents he could understand. Maybe they had analyzed his body and decided what weapons he was best fit to use. The token was easy to explain as some advanced AI. Was this some game of the ultra-rich? Did they have the technology to do this? No, there was nothing similar to this. The world had advanced but not like this, nothing even close. He could feel his heartbeat, the cold, and even the pain.

This also wouldn’t explain the cultivation or elemental talents. He took a deep breath, suppressing his pointless thoughts. Calming down he continued rationalizing, the Colosseum had said to survive he needed to focus on his weapon talent.

A spear would keep whatever enemy he fought far away from himself. Archery would do the same but to an even further degree. Yet, that didn’t feel right. He remembered the fight with the fool. The fight had been up close and personal. He had enjoyed that. Archery was far away. He had never practiced archery. If he missed his first shot or there were multiple enemies, then wouldn’t he be screwed?

A spear felt boring. Should he be looking at his situation like that? Shouldn't he look at what would help him survive not what would be boring? Yet, he knew he was inexplicably drawn to the daggers. He could feel the slight repulsion to using a different weapon. He hadn’t thought or focused on something so deeply for at least a decade.

This insane situation, being sent here so randomly, the idea of fighting an unknown being in ten hours. Each one began awakening something within him that had been dead for a long time. He was usually numb, going through life like a zombie, barely surviving. He didn’t want to just survive anymore. The thought of fighting an opponent with daggers while he was on the verge of death turned a small spark into an ember.

Was he crazy? Probably. But wouldn't it be the smartest decision to pick the weapon he had the least number of doubts about? The weapon that made him excited to live. Yes, he would pick daggers. The decisions made a rare smile appear on his face then freeze in place.

His consciousness began blurring as he was overwhelmed with thousands of images flashing through his mind. What was happening? Wait. Was this the opportunity?