A brand-new world greeted Owen as he was escorted through the hallways. Everything felt different. It was like he had gone through a metamorphosis. He could sense things so clearly now, and his movements felt much more precise and natural.

The clothes he had asked for were now on his person, and he could feel how light they were. The black, baggy pants hung low on his hips, and the long sleeves of the black shirt he wore reached down to his elbows. The fabric was soft and comfortable, and Owen loved how it felt against his skin.

His black shoes squeaked lightly with each step he took. He had noticed how well-made these clothes were, and how much better they felt than the standard jumpsuit he had been wearing previously.

The guard led him through the halls, and into an elevator. He got on with her, and they rode up to a higher floor.

They stepped off the elevator, and made their way through the hallways. As Owen walked, he sensed vibrations from in front of him. They were faint at first, but as he got closer, they grew stronger.

Soon, Owen came upon a set of large transparent doors. He looked past them, and saw that they opened up to a large arena.

He stepped forward, and the doors slid open for him. Owen stepped inside, and took in the arena in its entirety. A double set of stairs ran up from either side of him, leading up to the other floors of the viewing area.

In front of Owen, another set of transparent doors led into the arena, which was about the size of a basketball court. The white floor was clean and smooth.

The guard motioned for Owen to step further in, and so he did. He walked past the second set of transparent doors, and into the arena itself.

Owen looked around and noticed the five levels of the viewing area. Inmates were pressed against the glass of each floor, looking down at him. They had eager expressions on their faces, as if they were hungry for blood.

Owen scanned the crowd, and noticed a few familiar faces. He spotted Grace, Will, and Isaac on the first level. All three of them stared down at him with worried eyes.

He continued to look around the arena. Opposite the way he came in, there was another entrance on the far end. That must be where his opponents would come in from.

Above that entrance, a viewing box was attached to the wall. Owen looked up at it and saw that it was occupied by the sub-warden and the overseers.

A voice came from above, "Owen Walters, you will face three hundred and sixty-seven inmates in total. They will come at you one by one, and you will have to defeat all of them. If you are unable to do so, or if you are defeated once, you will lose. Do you understand?"

Owen nodded his head.

The sub-warden continued. "The condition for winning is simple. Your opponent must say 'I forfeit', or you must knock them out. The same applies to you. If you say 'I forfeit' or are knocked out, then you will lose."

Owen nodded his head once more, understanding the rules.

"Then let us begin the gauntlet."

As the sub-warden's words echoed out through the arena, a buzzer rang out.

Owen stood still in the middle of the arena, and waited.

And then, the doors on the opposite side opened.

An inmate shuffled his way out of the tunnel, and into the arena. He looked at Owen with frightened eyes. Owen looked back at him, and frowned.

The man raised his fists, as he took a stance. But it was clear to see that he was shaking in fear.

Owen sighed. The inmates on the other floors probably forced people on the lower floors to sign up to pad out the numbers. This man was clearly no fighter.

As the man approached him, Owen decided that he would end this quickly.

With eyes that bored into his opponent, Owen spoke, "I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be the victim that filters out all the cannon fodder."

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He disappeared from the man’s vision and reappeared before him. He grabbed the man’s face with his hand, and without mercy, slammed him to the ground.

The vibrations of the impact reverberated throughout the arena and shook the glass walls of the viewing area.

The man was out cold, and lay unconscious on the ground. Owen turned to look up at the viewing box, and shouted, "Where’s number two?"

***

Isaac stood against the railing, and stared down at the arena below. Two guards came out from the far entrance, carrying the unconscious inmate away on a stretcher.

Next to him, Grace had her face pressed against the glass, and her eyes were fixed on Owen. Will stood close by, and he watched with wide eyes.

"D-Did he kill him?"

Isaac shook his head, "No Will, he didn’t. Owen provided some of his essence at the last moment, so that the man wouldn’t be too badly injured."

"He probably acted that violently just to scare off the ones who signed up because they were forced to," Grace added. "He wants to intimidate them into forfeiting right away."

The buzzer rang out once more, and another inmate walked into the arena. Almost immediately, they raised their arms out in the air and yelled out, "I forfeit! I forfeit!"

Will watched with wide eyes as the inmate ran back out the entrance.

"Wow, it worked."

Isaac looked down at Owen with a complicated expression.

"Grace."

"Yes?"

"I don’t know what he did overnight, but Owen has become overwhelmingly stronger."

He leaned forward on the railing, "And I wonder, just how far will he be able to make it into the gauntlet."

***

Mayers sat in the viewing box, along with the other overseers. His hands were clasped together, as he watched the inmate below. He gritted his teeth as he heard another one yell out that they forfeited.

He cursed, "These floor two inmates are useless drivel. They are no better than the floor one inmates."

The buzzer rang out for the twentieth time, and the next inmate entered.

Mayers continued, "I want to see blood. I want to see that arrogant bastard fall on his knees."

The floor five overseer sitting next to Mayers had his chin on his hand, as he stared down at the arena below. He spoke up, "This is what we expected. What I’m more curious about is what’ll he do once the floor four inmates start to come out."

"Some of the ones on the third floor should be strong enough to give him some trouble." the third floor overseer said.

The floor four overseer snorted. "That’s just because you’re biased towards your own floor. None of your guys will do anything substantial."

The third floor overseer gave her a dirty look, but remained silent.

Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Jones had his head between his knees. He was shaking as he whispered to himself.

"My money...oh gods my money."

***

Owen stood still in the arena, and waited patiently for the next opponent. He had crossed his arms, and his gaze was fixed on the far entrance.

The buzzer rang out, and number thirty-six entered the arena. It was a young teen boy, probably his own brother’s age. He had light brown skin, loose black curls, and a youthful face. Bushy eyebrows framed his large brown eyes.

Owen frowned at the sight. This was the first young child he had seen in the gauntlet so far. The boy raised up his fists, and got into a fighting stance. He had a serious expression on his face.

Owen sighed and asked, "How old are you kid?"

The teen replied with a firm voice, "I'm fourteen."

Owen shook his head. "Who forced you to sign up to this?"

"No one. I just wanted to try my luck."

A surprised look passed over Owen's face. But it was quickly replaced with a serious expression.

"I see." He unfurled his crossed arms, and held them at his side. "Then prepare yourself."

The boy visibly gulped, and took a deep breath. Essence covered his body, and a green aura enveloped him. He was a nature essence user.

The boy spread out his arms, and a few leaves materialized in the surrounding air. They floated in place, and he kept his hands outstretched towards them.

Owen raised an eyebrow at the sight. The boy seemed to be focusing hard on controlling the leaves.

The boy clenched his fists, and the leaves shot through the air towards Owen. But they flew out slow and wobbly. For a few seconds, Owen stood still and watched.

Was there something more to this? As the leaves got close, Owen moved. He sidestepped one leaf, and swatted another casually away with the back of his hand. The remaining two he caught between his fingers.

He looked down at them, and then back at the teen.

"Is that it?"

He was surprisingly disappointed. After all that build up, this was it? How did this kid make it to the second floor?

With a flick of his wrist, Owen sent the leaves tumbling to the ground.

"Well then," he said. "I guess I'll get it over with."

He was about to move when the sudden movement of something behind him alerted Owen. He whipped around to see a newly created leaf flying towards him.

It flew at an alarming speed, and Owen barely had time to react. He swivelled his head to the side, and the leaf narrowly missed him. It grazed past his right cheek, and left a small cut.

Blood trickled down his face, and Owen put a hand to his cheek. He turned back around to look at the teen, who was grinning confidently.

"I cut you."

Owen wiped away the blood and smirked.

"You’re a pretty good actor aren't you?"

The boy lifted his arms, and the leaves on the ground rose into the air. They shot towards Owen once more, but he dodged them easily.

As they missed him, he moved in towards the teen. He weaved between the leaves and closed the distance quickly.

The teen's eyes went wide as Owen approached. The boy tried to back away, but Owen grabbed hold of his arm.

"What’s your name?"

The teen grit his teeth, and struggled to free himself. But he couldn’t. Owen was too strong.

"My name is Lucas."

"Then Lucas, I'll make sure to remember it."

Owen held out his hand to Lucas' forehead, and flicked him lightly with his finger. The teen's head jerked back, and his eyes rolled into his head. He passed out, and Owen released his arm.

The boy fell back, and hit the ground.

Owen walked away from the unconscious teen, and headed for the centre of the arena. He stopped and turned around to look at the unconscious boy once more.

He shook his head and sighed. What was he doing underestimating and toying around with his opponents? He had been far too complacent in that last bout.

He thought about the sneak attack that Lucas had pulled off. If he hadn’t acquired his new kinetic vision, then how would he have countered that attack?

He clenched his fist tightly, as a frown formed on his face. He needed to become far more serious. This was no time to be playing around.

Owen looked up at the viewing box above him.

"Well? Where's number thirty-seven?"

***

Eighty-nine.

Owen watched as number eighty-nine entered the arena. The past two hours had been uneventful. His opponents had either forfeited, or Owen knocked out the more ambitious ones.

This inmate knelt on the ground with his hands raised in surrender. He had a terrified look on his face.

"I forfeit."

Owen nodded his head. Another one then. He walked back to the centre of the arena and waited for the next person to come.

The voice of the sub-warden came from above, "Inmate, you have defeated all the floor two inmates. We will now move on to the floor three inmates."

Owen crossed his arms and waited. A few moments later the buzzer rang out, and someone entered the arena.

For the first time today, a seething anger began to brew within Owen. It was a familiar face. The spiky haired man he had met in the cafeteria.

Flashbacks to the time the man had brought his gang to beat him up went through Owen's mind. He had watched from the side as he had taken down most of their crew. What a cowardly bastard. He didn’t even have the decency to jump in.

Owen clenched his teeth, and stared the man down.

"You. What’s your name?"