The arena was silent. A thick atmosphere blanketed the air. An uneasy feeling lingered in the spectators. Already, whispers between the inmates had started. Could it be possible? Will Owen Walters win this impossible fight?

Though seeing the opponent he was facing, most had doubts. Kenneth Gentry, a known and feared inmate, was a monster among monsters. He was rumoured to be unstoppable. So, what hope could the broken, beaten, and bruised Owen possibly have?

Barely standing, breathing tired breaths, his hands weren’t even up. They hung limply by his sides. A few metres away, Kenneth lifted his foot and slammed it straight down. With a shockwave, earth sprung outwards and terraformed the entire arena. The white surface had turned into a ground of rocks and dirt.

"Welcome to my world, Owen."

Kenneth closed his hand, and tendrils of earth shot up from the ground and targeted Owen. Before they could strike him, Owen gathered some of his remaining essence into his legs and pivoted around, allowing him to dodge the surprise assault. He smacked away the tendrils that strayed too close and weaved throughout the attacks.

As fast as he could, he manoeuvred inwards, straight towards Kenneth, all the while dodging the relentless strikes. But then his foot sunk. The ground had turned spongy under his feet. And when he tried to pull back, it pulled him down.

Like quicksand, the earth below him absorbed him, entombing him up to his ankles. From behind him, a pointed spike propelled straight up from the ground, rocketing towards his back. Owen sensed the threat and put more strength into one of his legs.

He managed to pull it free and back kick his leg right into the spike. The impact sent the earth exploding around him, fracturing into small bits and chunks.

He continued to free his other leg, just as more spikes emerged from the floor and thrust toward him. He had to tumble his body, twist and roll as best he could to avoid the attacks. He backed away, as the spikes trailed him relentlessly.

Frustrated and exhausted, he looked up at Kenneth. He seemed content to fight from a distance. Knowing that he couldn’t do anything about that, Owen kept dodging and evading.

Seeing how he was struggling to dodge the attacks, and how he had no options to launch a counter, Kenneth decided to up the ante. The onslaught of spikes diminished, giving Owen the chance to collect his bearings. But now, the area around him started to tremor.

Hands pushed out from the ground and clawed the surface. Then, rock like humanoids forced their way out from under the earth. There were dozens of them. About forty cloned humans, formed with chunks of jagged rocks, came staggering towards him.

One close by him threw a fist at him, to which Owen had a hard time avoiding. It skimmed across his cheek, chipping away at the skin. Another came from his left side, to which Owen bent down to a crouch and quickly rolled underneath. Once he recovered, several more rock warriors, charged in his direction.

Desperately, he poured essence into his arms, and punched one of them. It cracked the head of one, shattering it apart. Owen swivelled around, and fired off a hook, breaking another one apart.

But they were coming at him quickly. Numerous rock fists and limbs began their stampede towards him, and his desperation heightened. Exploding into action, his fists flurried, as did his legs. Showers of broken earth poured everywhere.

Again and again he swivelled, smashed, and crushed each of the creatures. Yet their numbers seemed endless. His body shook and ached from continuous exertion. His essence was thinning further, threatening to burn out.

Rocky hands grabbed hold of his legs and arms. They overwhelmed him, clutching onto him and slowing his movement. Their powerful grips dug their weight into his damaged skin, drawing pain as it tore the fragile flesh, and his weakened grunts that echoed throughout the arena.

Kenneth watched on in triumph. He knew Owen was no match for him. He outstretched a palm in the direction of Owen, and immediately, a rock the size of a softball formed and launched itself with extreme force towards Owen.

It tore through the crowd of rock men, shattering them into pieces as it hurtled. Owen saw the incoming projectile and went into full panic. When it was no more than a short distance from him, he directed the kinetic energy of the rock at an upwards angle.

As a result, the rock momentarily slammed into his stomach, before exploding upwards nicking his left shoulder. Not only had it carved out a good chunk of his flesh, it had broken his collarbone. In that split moment of agony, the countless tendrils of the rocky humanoid's hands became loose.

Ignoring the pain, Owen forced himself into action, tearing away the loosened grips. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of another rock shooting towards him, and he tilted his head, as the boulder skimmed by him, hitting one of the rock men.

Owen used the pain to push himself even further. He shoved his way past the ever-increasing number of rock men, making a beeline for the edge of the arena. He had to get out of this encirclement.

When he got out into a mostly open space, he turned his head around to see Kenneth. The man was watching him with great amusement. He lifted a hand, and the ground around Owen rumbled and trembled. Then, five pillars pushed up from the ground, and towered over him.

Before he could process what was happening, the pillars moved. Owen realized that they weren’t pillars at all, but fingers. Giant rock fingers. Kenneth threw his arm back, and the appendages shadowed over Owen. They threatened to squash him flat.

Without hesitation, he moved. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, giving him the energy he needed to react. He ran forward, then jumped through the small opening between two of the colossal digits, escaping being smashed beneath them.

After landing on the other side, he shot a look behind him. A giant stone fist was ascending from the ground. With wide eyes, he saw an arm following behind it. From the opposite side of the arena, another limb was emerging. The ground shook violently as a head pulled itself up from the centre of the arena.

Soon, a giant creature began forming right before his very eyes. The bottom half of its torso was stuck in the earth, with only its upper body towering above Owen. Jagged teeth lined a huge mouth, and huge hollow eyes peered down at him.

A sense of dread overwhelmed Owen. How was he supposed to fight that?

The creature lifted an arm and swung it down at him. Owen dived to the side, narrowly avoiding being squashed. The ground caved upon impact. The entire arena shook. Dust and debris filled the air.

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Owen took the chance to keep moving, weaving across the arena, as giant swipes attempted to catch him. He had to reach Kenneth. It was the only way he could win this. With his essence nearly dried up, he decided to gamble it all and use up all his essence for a final punch.

He didn’t know if that would be enough to down Kenneth, but he was willing to try. He drew in every last bit of essence from his soul, and poured it into his fist. The yellow wisps of the energy crackled of his fist.

The giant arm of the rock titan swept across the ground, barrelling after him, and threatening to scoop him up like a bug. Owen ran with all of his strength, towards the torso of the giant.

He reached it, and ran around the side. He pushed past the several rock men that were in his way. Countless swung at him as he went. Their fists made contact. Bruises, cuts, and damage riddled his body, and several drops of blood trailed his feet.

Owen neared the back of the torso. He found an opening to which he charged through. Once he emerged, he found himself not very far from Kenneth. A smirk was visible on the man.

Owen burst forward. His legs were fuelled by his desperation, and the need to win. If only he could reach Kenneth. If only he could land his attack on him. If only—

The ground underneath him bubbled. All of a sudden, a spike had shot up from the floor and impaled him through his foot. Pain wracked his nerves as he arched backwards.

Then a ring of spikes erupted from the ground and stabbed him through his abdomen. More white-hot agony rippled through him. His hand hopelessly grasped a spike as he gasped for breath. He tried to break free, but the spikes were only digging deeper and deeper into him.

Kenneth couldn’t help but laugh at Owen. Seeing his pained expression really brought Kenneth joy, and a huge weight off his shoulders was lifted. Knowing that Owen was close to running out of essence, Kenneth decided to finish him off. The massive stone titan turned around, it's gargantuan form shifting.

Kenneth spoke, making sure his voice echoed clearly. "As fun as it would be to see you slowly and painfully get torn apart and crushed, it would be so much sweeter if I just finish you off here. Owen, you shouldn’t have tried to bite off more than you could chew. Rebels like you shouldn't dream of actually winning something like this. Now, say your final prayers."

Kenneth thrust his hand downward. Owen looked up with wide eyes. The titan's massive hand was now hovering above him, casting a huge shadow.

At his limit, and knowing he had nothing left to give, he resigned himself to his fate. The colossal hand dropped like a boulder, crashing into the ground. Debris and dust shot out in every direction.

Back up above the arena, the crowd watched the match with their breaths held. Eyes were glued to the spot. Blood rushed from hearts that were nervous and restless. The last of the debris was settling. No one said a word. All they could do was watch.

Kenneth was clapping his hands slowly. A sneer stretched upon his lips. Pride and accomplishment was ringing in his heart. The only thing worrying him was if he was going to receive a punishment for killing Owen. But surely, Mayers would understand. There was no way they could let a rebel like Owen continue walking around.

Kenneth walked forward, heading for the pile of the remaining rubble. He guessed that Owen was now a pancake. But he stopped and froze up.

Cracks were beginning to form on the hand of the giant. The earthy fingers splintered and hissed as the sound of crunching and breaking reverberated through the arena. White light seemed to shine through the cracks, turning brighter and brighter the longer Kenneth watched.

More cracks formed on the arm, spreading across its entire body. It kept increasing, until finally, with a sharp, thundering sound, the body of the rock titan erupted into a colossal explosion.

Kenneth was in disbelief. His jaw hung loose and his eyes were widening. Smoke cleared from the blast point and revealed to him Owen standing in the centre, his fist raised above his head. The star mark on Owen's chest shined brightly through his tattered clothes.

Eyes full of determination, Owen looked straight at Kenneth.

Kenneth cried out in anger. How was he still alive? As the smoke continued to float in the air, Owen took a step forward, blasting away the smoke. The light on his chest was shining brighter and brighter.

"What…" Kenneth managed to whisper out, but his eyes widened even further when he noticed something. It was for a split second, for a transparent black cloak had covered the body of Owen. "No, there is no way. Is that embodi—"

A step forward had cut his words off, and sent him stumbling backwards. For the first time since entering the arena, a feeling he had never felt before crept into his bones, making his body tense and uncomfortable. The feeling of fear. The feeling of danger.

Owen stomped forward again. His steps sent shockwaves rippling through the floor. Kenneth cursed under his breath. He didn’t know how Owen was able to survive, but he needed to do something quick. He went to lift his hand, but for some reason, he was unable to move his arm.

Every time he tried to move, his fingers would twitch, and his arm would jitter, but to no avail. The rest of his body too, wouldn’t respond. Every one of his limbs was no longer responding to his call. His mind was growing frantic, and confusion mixed with fear was building up inside of him. Why was he not moving?

His attention was captured when Owen took a final step. He was less than a metre away.

"I won’t ever stop fighting," Owen rasped with a low and rough voice. "No matter what you throw at me, I will continue to stand up." His fist clutched tightly in front of him, and he pulled back his arm.

Kenneth was frozen. Out of desperation, he was mentally trying his utmost to move, but not a finger budged. He wanted to run. He wanted to cower. But he couldn't. He was fixed in place. Something was preventing him from moving.

Owen's fist moved. He swung an overhead strike. Time moved slowly for Kenneth. What could only have been an instant felt like minutes, and he followed the action of Owen's fist approaching him.

The entire arena erupted into an explosion as a shockwave emitted from the impact. The blast of air shattered the glass panels of the viewing area and sent the observers tumbling over each other and scurrying away, hoping to protect themselves.

After the dust settled and the arena stabilized, two figures could be seen. Embedded into the wall next to the entrance, was Kenneth, with an imprint of a fist imprinted on his face. Limp, his unconscious body remained motionless.

Owen's tired and beaten body stood just metres from him. Chest heaving, he sucked in a breath and let out an exhausted puff. His stance faltered, and he tumbled forward. Collapsing to his knees, his hands were planted on the floor.

Despite the impossibility of winning this, he had somehow done it. With his mind reaching the point of near collapse, he heard the sound of the buzzer go off. Wearily, he lifted his eyes to meet the entrance to the arena. Who would his final opponent be?

Not long later, movement could be spotted. A lone figure was trudging its way in. It's silhouette slowly formed and became noticeable. Broad shoulders, a large frame, and muscles that stuck out through clothing. The man's head was covered by a black beanie. A moustache framed his upper lip.

Approaching Owen, the man stopped a short distance away. He glanced downwards at him.

Owen struggled to move. The strength he had previously disappeared. He gritted his teeth. This was his last fight. If he could manage to defeat this man, then he would have won the gauntlet. In no way was he going to stop here.

With great exertion, he forced his arms to push himself back onto his feet. Shaky and unstable, his legs wobbled. After a few seconds, he managed to stabilize his centre of gravity, and stood. Slowly, he raised his fists and staggered into a stance.

The man stared at him with a blank look. After a deep breath, he spoke.

"Why would you go through this much trouble to win? Look at yourself. Don't you see how broken your body is? Does your life really mean that little to you?"

Owen eyed the man with scrutiny. Why was he bothering asking questions to him? He willed his tongue to move, to say something to the man.

"I need… to win this."

An eyebrow raised on the man's face.

"Why?"

Owen’s eyes glinted. His breaths flowed out heavily, and his legs wobbled.

"To show you all, my determination. All of you are content with being pushed around by Arden. Well, not me." He sucked in a sharp breath. He could barely keep himself standing.

"I am a warrior of freedom, and I will break your shackles of oppression."

Silence fell between the two. The man regarded Owen carefully, taking a few more seconds before he ultimately raised his hand up in the air.

"I forfeit."

The declaration caught Owen off guard. He barely managed to find his words. "What?"

He took a step forward and clenched his fist. "Don’t underestimate… me…"

Owen's vision darkened, and in an instant, he collapsed. His body hit the ground, limp and motionless. He had finally reached his limits.

Owen's fight in the gauntlet had come to an end.