Isaac sat in his chair, listening absent-mindedly as Sonya talked about something he wasn't really interested in.

He was in the evening class of the day, and he had barely paid any attention to the lessons since the beginning. Not that it mattered anyway. Isaac knew all of this already. Sonya just taught the same things that only floor one inmates were allowed to learn.

He sat at his desk with his head propped up by his arm. His eyes drifted towards the empty seat next to him. It had been four days since he’d last seen Owen, and he was wondering what happened to him.

A sigh escaped his mouth, and he shook his head. "What am I doing?" he thought to himself.

The two of them weren't even friends. There was no reason for him to worry. But he couldn't help but wonder if there was anything more he could have done back at the cafeteria. Maybe if he had really tried to stop him, Owen wouldn't have been taken away like that.

As he mulled over these thoughts, an unexpected announcement came on over the intercom.

"This is a message for all the lower floors inmates. A duel has been arranged between Owen Walters from floor one, and John Dreyfus from floor four. The duel will take place immediately. All inmates are required to attend."

Sonya stopped talking as she heard the announcement. She looked over at her students with wide eyes. "A duel? For what reason?"

No one answered her, as they were just as clueless as she was.

Isaac stood up from his chair, surprised to hear Owen's name.

He glanced over at Sonya. "Can we go watch?"

"Yes, yes, all of you can go." she replied absent-mindedly, still trying to comprehend the situation.

Isaac nodded his head. "Thanks."

He turned and left the room, followed by the rest of his classmates.

The halls were filling up with people, as everyone moved in the same direction. They headed towards the arena, where the duel would take place.

Grace pushed through the crowd, walking alongside Isaac. "Do you know why this is happening?" she asked him.

"No idea," Isaac answered. "But I can guess that it's got something to do with what happened the other day."

Grace nodded her head. "You're probably right."

They followed the crowd towards the arena, which was on the outskirts of the facility. It was an open-aired structure, with seats around it and a dirt field in the centre. An orange sky loomed above them as they entered the arena. The seats were already packed with people.

"This way," Grace said, pointing towards the far end of the arena. "It looks like we can still get good seats."

Isaac followed after her. They climbed up a flight of stairs, and took their seats at the very front.

They sat down, and Isaac leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I wonder what's going to happen."

***

Kenneth sat down in his seat with a frown on his face. He crossed his arms, and leaned back. "I don’t like how much flare this has. What is it, some kind of show?"

Sitting next to him, Jason raised an eyebrow. "Flare? What do you mean?"

"Dude, why are they announcing a duel between a floor one and a floor four inmate? And why did they make us all gather here like this? It makes no sense."

Jason shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me. But maybe there is a reason for it?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Maybe they're testing Owen Walters' strength or something."

Kenneth snorted. "Testing? More like setting him up for failure. I mean come on, there's no way he can win against a floor four guy, no matter how strong he is."

"But..." Jason started. "He’s rather strong, isn’t he? That Owen guy."

They had heard about what happened at the cafeteria. The news had quickly spread around like wildfire among the lower floors.

Kenneth shook his head. "He’s still a weakling in my eyes."

"You never know," Jason said. "Maybe he'll surprise us."

"Yeah right."

The two of them fell silent. They looked around at the arena, noticing how much fuller it had become.

Jason asked, "Is that the sub-warden over there?" He pointed towards a large elevated platform near the edge of the arena. It was occupied by several figures, most of which were dressed in grey uniforms.

Kenneth narrowed his eyes, and squinted, trying to see them clearly. "No…it can't be…"

But it was. Sitting on the platform, surrounded by several officers, was the sub-warden of the facility.

Kenneth frowned at the sight. "Now I definitely know that something is up here. Seriously, why would they have the sub-warden present at a fight like this?"

***

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Mayers sat on his chair, overlooking the arena. He watched with sharp eyes as the last of the people began to take their seats. The arena was packed.

To his left sat the overseer for floor one, and to his right sat the overseer for floor four.

Jones glanced over at Mayers, and whispered in his ear. "Sir, why are we having this fight take place in the arena? We could have easily arranged for it to happen in one of our training rooms."

"You are correct," Mayers replied. "But I wanted to have as many eyes on this duel as possible."

The overseer from floor four, who had been listening in, leaned closer. "But why? Why would you want people to see this?"

Jones couldn’t help but agree with the woman. It made no sense.

Mayers looked over at her. "Because I want Owen Walters to know shame. Imagine it now, an arrogant man like him, losing in front of a large audience. It would be a humiliating defeat for him."

Jones and the overseer from floor four nodded their heads slowly.

"I see..." Jones muttered. "I understand now. That's quite clever, Mr. Mayers."

The overseer from floor four added, "If he loses here, it will damage his pride, and make him more obedient to us. His ego will be shattered."

Mayers nodded his head. "Precisely."

They fell silent as the last of the people took their seats. The stage was set. Everything was ready.

The announcer, who standing on a platform that hovered above the field, looked over at Mayers for the signal to begin.

Mayers raised his hand, and gave the announcer a thumbs up. The announcer nodded, and spoke into his microphone.

"Alright everyone! Let's get this duel started!"

***

Owen was sat inside a room. The sounds of people cheering could be heard from outside.

He sat on a bench, waiting for his turn. He was wearing his combat uniform, which consisted of grey track pants and a white t-shirt.

As he waited, he recalled the conversation he'd had with the three overseers earlier that day.

"If you win, we will grant you whatever wish you desire."

Owen clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth. There was no option for him to lose. It was either victory or death.

The door to his room opened, and he looked up to see a guard standing in the doorway.

"It's time," the guard said. "Please come with me."

Owen stood up from his seat. He took a deep breath, and followed after the guard.

They walked down a long hallway, before arriving at a set of double doors. The guard opened one of the doors for him, and gestured for Owen to walk inside.

Owen stepped through the doorway, and entered the arena. A soft breeze blew past him as he looked around.

The arena was packed. Hundreds of people were seated, watching him with expectant eyes. He glanced up at the elevated platform in the far distance. The sub-warden sat there, along with the three overseers from floor one and floor four.

The crowd grew silent as they watched him. Then the announcer spoke into his microphone.

"—and we have our other fighter! Please give a round of applause for Owen Walters!"

A half-hearted applause came from the audience. Some clapped, others didn't bother.

Owen scanned the field, until he spotted his opponent standing near the centre of the arena. Was it John something? He couldn't remember the guy's name. But it didn't matter.

His opponent looked to be in his late teens, with blonde hair and an average build. He was dressed in the same attire as Owen was.

Owen turned his head towards the announcer, who was still speaking into his microphone.

"Alright everyone! Now that both of our fighters have arrived, let us here some words from them!"

The announcer floated down with his platform, and stopped in front of John.

The microphone was held out in front of him. "John! Do you have anything to say?"

John smiled cockily. "Not much. Just that I'll put this guy in his place," he then pointed towards Owen, "the overseer promised me that if I win, he'd move me up a floor. So, Owen Walters, you’ll be the stepping stone for my rise to floor five."

The audience cheered at his words. The announcer grinned widely as he floated over towards Owen. "How about you Owen? Do you have anything to say?"

Owen looked at the announcer coldly. "What is this? Let’s just throw hands already."

The announcer laughed nervously at Owen's attitude. He then backed up his platform, and floated back upwards. He raised the microphone to his mouth, and spoke loudly.

"Alright! Are both the fighters ready?!"

John raised his fist in the air, showing that he was ready. Owen didn't make any gestures, but gave a slight nod of his head.

The announcer grinned. "Alright! Let's get started! May the battle begin!"

He shot backwards, retreating to a safe distance. John smirked, letting his essence flow through his body. A yellow aura flared outwards from him, and he stared at Owen with intense eyes.

Owen did the same, producing his own yellow aura. He flexed his muscles, and cracked his knuckles. "Let’s find out how strong a floor four inmate is."

They charged towards each other at the same time. Their fists collided with a loud bang, sending shockwaves throughout the field. Owen grabbed John's arm, and threw him up high into the air. But before Owen could follow up with an attack, he stopped himself as he noticed that electricity had gathered around John's hands.

A bolt of electricity shot towards Owen from above. He sidestepped out of the way, narrowly dodging the attack.

John landed on the ground. He raised both of his arms, and slammed them on the ground. An electrical current ran across the field, and raced towards Owen. Like an army of white snakes, it moved towards him, looking to coil around him and fry him alive.

But before they could bite, Owen moved to the left. With his essence ability, he increased his kinetic energy output, and accelerated his body speed to its maximum. His movements were instantaneous, and his body moved like a blur as he zipped across the field.

John was stunned by Owen's speed. He had never seen anyone move so fast before. But he didn't have time to ponder, as Owen suddenly appeared right in front of him.

Before he could react, Owen swung his fist into John's face, sending him skidding backwards.

Owen followed up with another attack, and drove his fist into John's chest. John gasped out in pain as he was sent flying into the air. He landed and rolled on the ground, clutching at his injured chest.

Owen rushed in for another attack, but stopped as something caught his attention. Frost was forming around his feet.

"What is–"

The frost instantly expanded, growing rapidly and engulfing his entire body. A layer of ice formed over his skin, freezing him in place. Owen gritted his teeth as the coldness bit at his flesh. He raised his head, and saw that John had got back up onto his feet.

Electricity was gathering around his hands again. Owen cursed as he used kinetic energy to heat up his body. Steam rose up from the ice, as it started to thaw away.

Though the ice didn't melt quickly enough. John launched a bolt of electricity towards him, and this time Owen couldn't dodge.

It hit him square in the chest, causing the ice to shatter. Pain coursed through Owen’s body as he was electrocuted. He gritted his teeth as he felt his nerves go haywire. If it weren’t for the defences essence provided, he would have likely been dead by now.

Once the electricity subsided, Owen immediately dropped to the ground. He panted heavily as he took deep breaths of air.

A shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw that John was standing above him. A smug look was on his face.

"I'll finish you here."

He raised his hand, which crackled with electricity. But before he could attack, Owen swept his leg, knocking John's feet out from under him.

John fell backwards, landing on his back. But Owen didn't give him the chance to get up.

He got up to his feet, and drove his fist down towards John's face. The punch connected with a loud smack, and John's head bounced off the ground.

Owen raised his fist for another punch, but stopped as icicles formed around John's body. They grew outwards, nearly impaling Owen.

He retreated backwards, avoiding the spikes. A momentary pause occurred between them.

Owen wiped some blood away from the corner of his mouth. "I guess that ice is part of your Insignia, huh?"

John with wobbly legs, stood back up onto his feet. "Damn, I thought this was going to be an easier fight."

"Sorry to disappoint you then."

John narrowed his eyes. He had around half of his essence left. He needed to finish this soon, otherwise he would run out.

Owen took a step forward, "Let’s finish this."

John grit his teeth, and raised his arm. This next move would eat away a good portion of his essence, but he didn't have much of a choice.

Owen neared closer. He raised his arm, ready to strike. But then suddenly stopped. His eyes glazed over, and he lost all focus.

John had temporarily halted the electrical signals in Owen's brain with his ability. Owen's body stiffened, and he leaned forward, ready to collapse to the ground.

John seized the opportunity. He charged forward, and ran electricity through his fist. He used most of his essence as he drove his fist upwards into an uppercut. It connected, snapping Owen's head backwards and launching him into the air.

Owen landed hard on the ground, his body bouncing up before falling still.

The entire arena was silent as they watched him. No one uttered a single word as they waited with bated breaths.

"Please, just stay down…" John muttered to himself.

Owen laid on his back, unmoving. For a second, it seemed like he wasn't going to get up.

But then, slowly, a hand moved. It pushed against the ground, as Owen began to sit up. John's heart sank as Owen stared at him with cold eyes.

Owen stood up from the ground, and glared at him. "Nice trick."

John cursed under his breath, "Shit!"

He swung his arms down in desperation and discharged electricity throughout the field. It was all or nothing at this point. If he didn't take Owen out now, he would lose.

With casual ease, Owen jumped up into the air, dodging the electricity. There, he was suspended in mid-air. He looked down at John, like a god does at peasants.

Then he shot downwards, driving his foot into John's head. It sent him crashing to the ground.

John laid on the ground, unmoving. The crowd stared with wide eyes at the sight before them. The battle was over.

Owen Walters had won.

The announcer flew downwards from his platform. He hovered above John's unconscious body, and spoke into his microphone. "And the winner of the duel is... Owen Walters! Congratulations!"

The crowd cheered loudly at the announcement, clapping and whistling in excitement.

Owen looked up at where the sub-warden was sitting. The old man wore a grave expression on his face, as he looked down at him. Owen smirked at him, he clearly hadn't expected him to win.

Owen turned to the announcer, and spoke loudly. "Hand me your mike."

The announcer was surprised, but handed his microphone over. Owen took it from him, and turned to the crowd.

He raised the microphone to his mouth, and began to speak. "Shut up. All of you."

Everyone fell silent, as they were startled by his words.

Owen then turned his attention towards the elevated platform. He glared at the people sitting there.

"Oi old man, do you remember what you said? I can ask for anything I want if I win this duel. Right? So I’ll tell you this now—" Owen pointed a finger at the crowd of inmates. "What I want, is to fight all the inmates from floor two to floor five, all in a row, with no breaks."

Silence filled the arena once more, as everyone wondered if he was serious.

Once more, Owen raised the microphone to his mouth. "Did you bastards not hear me? I said I want a damn gauntlet."