Pike had shuffled into the arena with apprehension. Though he would never admit it, he was frightened. Owen's display against those lowly floor two inmates had been more than enough to terrify him.

The odds were stacked against him, but he couldn't back down. If he did, his buddies would shun him. And with the embarrassment they had faced at the hands of Owen over a week ago, this was the perfect opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of Kenneth and the rest of the crew.

Pike steeled himself, and shuffled closer.

Owen stared daggers into him. Just the sight alone made Pike tremble, and his breaths became shallow.

"Are you deaf? I asked for your name."

Those words were spoken with such venom. Pike started to regret being here.

He gritted his teeth. There was only one thing he could do at this point.

Pike clenched his fist, and gathered every ounce of courage that he could muster. Essence flowed through him, and a red aura washed over his body.

Without another word, Pike charged forward. With his two fists raised in front of him, he flew like a wild bull.

There was only one thing going through his mind as he moved. He just wanted this to be over with quickly.

He didn’t want to be dragged out and made a fool of. But deep down, Pike knew what was coming.

Owen watched the man rush towards him. Pike charged fast, but Owen saw the impending movements before they even happened.

Pike threw a wild fist out, which Owen ducked under. Owen shot his fist upwards, directly underneath Pike's chin.

Pike's head jerked upwards, and blood splattered from his mouth. He stumbled backwards, and clutched his mouth with his hand. Blood was gushing down his lips, chin, and hand.

With an angry glare, he swung his other arm in an outward horizontal arc, hoping to at least connect a grazing blow.

Owen simply stepped out of the attack's reach, and watched as the punch blew by without ever being able to make contact. He stepped back in and landed a hard body blow that made Pike hurl.

He gasped for air and spit out a mouthful of bile mixed with blood. He fell on his knees, and choked as he tried to catch his breath.

Pike wondered why this fucker was so strong without using his essence.

As Pike struggled to move and catch his breath, Owen took a step closer. He reached for the back of Pike's head, but froze as he noticed something peculiar happening on his back. Small needle like objects were spouting out under the fabric of Pike's jumpsuit.

A second later, they burst through the grey jumpsuit, and launched towards Owen. The sharp silver projectiles shot at an alarming speed, and aimed right for his face. He blocked with one of his forearms, and the needles pierced the flesh.

Owen jumped back, and looked down at his arm. The long, small, but sharp needles hung out of his skin. One after another, he pulled the needles out and flicked them to the floor.

He looked back up and turned his attention towards Pike. More needles, no, quills, had sprouted all around his body. They were huge, and some stretched out a foot long. Black fur appeared around the nape of his neck, as Pike's transformation progressed. It spread to the rest of his body, and he hunched over while the transformation completed.

In the end, he had become a humanoid porcupine. Pike, whose face had an expression resembling that of a rat, let loose a series of low guttural grunts. The quills on his back shook, and then pointed upwards.

Beast essence users gained a massive boost to their physical capabilities while in their transformed states. Furthermore, they gained some special abilities, depending on their type of beast, aided them in their fights.

With speed and strength much greater than his previous form, Pike once again rushed at Owen. He swiped his sharp talon-like claws at him, but Owen leaned back and dodged. He sidestepped Pike's incoming arms and launched a kick into his side. It only staggered Pike for a second, and he returned to slashing away with his claws once more.

His durable skin and thick fur dulled the damage to Owen's kick. Meanwhile, Owen was forced to play defensive, avoiding the swipes and clawing fingers.

Noticing the change in Owen's tactics, Pike increased his efforts. He became more wild, and slashed erratically. On more than one occasion, Owen was almost caught.

Owen narrowed his eyes at the swipes and followed Pike's movements. Then, the opportunity came. There was a narrow pause between swings, leaving the underbelly of Pike wide open.

Catching the gap between swings, Owen sucker punched Pike in the stomach with as much strength as he could muster. It dug deep, and knocked the wind right out of him. A second later, Owen grabbed him by the scruff, held his neck up, and headbutted him straight in the nose.

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Pike scrunched his eyes shut, and groaned at the pain. His claws went up towards his face, clutching it. While Owen pushed him away, he jumped up in the air, twirled, and ended it with a back kick straight in Pike's mouth.

Driven with the force, Pike rolled across the ground, bleeding and groaning. He lay flat on his stomach and clenched his fists against the ground.

A moment passed. And then another.

Slowly, and groaning, Pike struggled to his feet. His face twitched with each movement, and his gait was uneasy.

Owen stood away from Pike and was rolling his arm, loosening it up.

"Are you done with your temper tantrum?"

Pike glared at Owen and grunted. A damn temper tantrum? All that effort and it wasn't even enough. Why was this fucking bastard so strong?

He had planned to make Owen use his essence against him, hoping that would help him score points with the floor five inmates. Pike figured that Owen was saving his essence for the upper floors, and would only resort to using it if he was backed into a corner.

But it seemed all his hard work had been for naught. Was there no way to goad Owen into using his essence?

It was too bad. He had already used his main attack in the hopes of gaining an advantage. Using his insignia would drain him of all his essence and render him useless. But, if he didn't do anything, he would lose without having accomplished a thing. Pike ground his teeth and dug deep.

Owen watched as Pike rose to his full height, ready for more. Instead of attacking though, he watched as he clasped his claws together. He started vibrating, and concentrated.

With raised eyebrows, Owen watched another Pike begin to materialize. The duplicate, an exact copy of the original, stood beside the first.

The two Pikes moved into action at once. They moved in opposite directions, flanking either side of Owen. They stopped on both sides of him, and turned around revealing their backs. Their quills raised and floated in place, the tips facing towards Owen. They vibrated rapidly, and the already thousands of needle quills doubled in number. The Pikes arched their backs, ready to launch them all.

Owen narrowed his eyes, and analysed the situation. Even if he tried to evade, he wouldn't get out unscathed. Dodging to any one side would be met with a rain of spines, while attempting to jump over them could put him in a dire position.

The Pikes flexed their backs, and the projectiles launched in unison. The barrage flew towards him at blinding speed, the number so great that they could be mistaken for smoke. Owen for a split second, considered relying on his essence ability, when at the last moment, decided otherwise. This was a good opportunity to train his new sense.

He closed his eyes. Like raindrops, the vibrations the quills emitted came crashing in. From every direction, he was met with the threat of potential death. At the forefront were two quills coming straight for his head. He grabbed for both of them with lightning speed, and let his instincts take control. With the quills in each hand, he parried away each oncoming attack.

His hands became a blur, as a chain of actions took place without conscious thought. In a way, it was almost like dancing. He was spinning, parrying, redirecting. The danger was all around him. Yet, he saw through it and acted accordingly.

When it was all over, Pike's quills lay scattered about the floor. Owen let go of the few quills he had managed to keep hold off, and they clattered to the floor.

The two Pikes fell on their knees and keeled over. The Pike behind Owen began to deform and break apart, slowly losing shape. The other also reverting to the spikey haired inmate that he once was.

Owen walked over to Pike's crouched form, crushing a handful of fallen quills underneath his feet as he did. They began dissipating, turning translucent, and eventually fading from existence. Owen stepped right in front of Pike, and grabbed him by the hair.

He leaned in close, and whispered harshly, "I want your name."

Pike, his eyes darting about, searched for a way out.

"I–"

Owen’s hand covered his mouth. He frowned, annoyed, before tightening his grip on Pike's hair. Pulling him up, Pike was forced onto his knees.

"If you mutter the word forfeit, I will break a finger for every letter that is in that word."

The threats rang clear and crisp into Pike's ears. Fear bloomed inside him, and he found himself shaking.

"P-Pike, my name is Pike."

Owen grinned from ear to ear, "see? That wasn’t so hard. Alright Pike, I’ll have to thank you. If your guys hadn’t tried to jump me, I wouldn’t have found out what these Arden guys were doing to my family, and I would have taken my sweet time getting out of here," he patted Pike on the cheek. "However, what I cannot stand are damn cowards. So I’ll tell you what. If you were somehow ordered by someone else to attack me, then I’ll split my anger evenly between you and them."

Pike didn’t know what to say. Back then he had gone to Kenneth for help, in a desperate attempt to solve his issues. While Kenneth did say he should go back with his own boys to jump Owen, he hadn’t exactly taken part directly in it.

Owen stared down at him and suddenly asked, "Well? Do you want my anger to be one hundred percent directed at you, or fifty fifty with the guy you serve?"

Pike cringed, both options horrible. Does he sell out the second-strongest guy on the lower floors, or does he remain the target?

He sighed deeply.

"The boss' name is K-Kenneth."

"What floor is he from?"

"H-He's on floor five..."

With that information, Owen stood up straight.

"Alright, you can point him out for me."

"What?"

Without warning, Pike was lifted into the air. He was floating in front of Owen's palm, as Owen levitated him. Owen too floated, moving upwards. Pike with wide eyes was shocked that Owen had used his essence ability so easily.

He had to ask. "Aren’t you saving your essence for the later rounds?"

Owen scoffed. "Who said I was saving it? For these past ninety fights, I just felt like I didn’t need to. But for things like this—" Owen grabbed the side of Pike's head. They were up near where the floor five inmates were viewing from. Owen slammed Pike's head against the viewing glass, causing the inmates that were pressed against it to move away.

"—I think it’s necessary. Now, say stop when you see him. I don’t want to go around another lap."

The squished face of Pike was dragged along the glass, causing a squeaky sound. Inmates with shocked and appalled expressions watched the scene unfold.

After going around half the arena, the meek voice of Pike was heard.

"S-stop... I see him."

"Where? Point him out."

Pike cringed, and jabbed a finger towards the glass. An angry looking man, with cat like eyes and long brown hair was staring daggers at Pike.

Pike flinched, and withdrew his finger.

"I-it's him. Th-that's Kenneth."

Upon seeing the target, Owen grunted in satisfaction. "Alright, I guess I don’t need you any more."

He heartlessly dropped Pike, and the inmate tumbled down hard onto the cold floor of the arena.

A stare-down transpired between Kenneth and Owen, across the glass. Silent words of hatred communicated back and forth.

"You’re the top guy in here, huh? Wait for me because I’m coming for you."

***

From the viewing box, the sub-warden and the overseers had watched the fight in silence. The floor four overseer spoke, "What a barbaric boy. Did he really need to go that far to humiliate his opponent?"

The floor five overseer shook his head, "What do you expect from an egotistical rebel like him?"

Mayers clicked his tongue in distaste, "The pride in Owen Walters is insufferable. We’ll quickly need to stomp it out of him."

The other overseers agreed.

The floor five overseer spoke up again. "I just wonder if he’s going to blow past the third floor inmates like he did with the second."

The third floor overseer scoffed and chimed in, "these next three opponents of his, individually they have nothing on his strength. But for something like this, their insignias will work in tandem and cripple him, mark my words."

***

Owen stood at the centre of the arena, and watched as a skinny weakly old woman walked out from the tunnel. She was maybe in her fifties or sixties, and she hobbled about as she walked. Grey, wispy hair flowed past her shoulders, and her small frame looked fragile.

Owen's first impression of her was not that she was a threat. But then again, appearances could be deceiving. He remembered the kid from earlier and dared not make the same mistake twice.

The woman shuffled across the ground and instantly drew out her essence. A blue aura formed around her body, and she raised her head up to look at Owen.

She was a spirit essence user. Owen prepared himself, and took a fighting stance.

An incorporeal elongated hand emerged from the centre of her chest. Its ethereal grey fingers, clawed outwards. An arm followed, then another. An upper body followed suit, until Owen was faced with an otherworldly being.

The spirit stood a few feet taller than her mistress, and was grey and translucent. Its face was bandaged, leaving only two black circles for her eyes. It’s elongated limbs gave off a foreboding image, and the sharp fingernails it had, spelled ill will for its targets.

The woman held out one of her arms. Owen readied himself and watched for any sudden attack. But the next thing that happened was not something that he had expected.

The spirit grabbed onto its masters right forearm and snapped the brittle bone. The messy crunch echoed throughout the arena. Bone and blood protruded through the open flesh of the broken arm.

Shock was painted on Owen's face. Why the hell would she injure herself?

He stepped forward to check up on her but froze. His own arm had started to feel numb. Then soon, a second later, a bone crunching sound occurred. He looked down, and found a bone protruding through his arm.