Chapter 53 - #112

The magnificent palace of the Khalid Dynasty stood unflinching under the scorching sun of the Saudi Arabian desert. 

Above the towers of the palaces, a blinding light shone off of their ornate golden tops that threatened to burn the eyes of anyone who would dare gaze upon it. 

The Ḥāmin Tower was one of these such towers. 

Within the tower's walls held thousands of elite Ḥāmin guards, all more than capable of defeating a hundred normal men. 

Beneath the hollowed holes those Ḥāmin called home, an elaborate and vast prison lay hidden. 

This prison consisted of hundreds of shipping container sized cells, each filled with an uncountable number of powered prisoners. 

One of the cells was labeled, "2 - 4 - 7". 

Inside these walls held Draco, who had previously been engaged in push ups for nearly an hour. Now he sat in front of his bed, counting out the number of his sit ups. 

"471.."

"472.."

"473.."

"474.."

He did these sit ups rapidly, blowing wind around his form that fluttered his loose fitting clothes. 

His face was covered in sweat, and it whipped around him with each sit up. Despite this, his speed did not lessen, and his form remained steady. 

A few seconds later Draco had finished his set.

"499.."

".. and 500." 

Draco sat up and exhaled a deep breath, stretching his arms and legs out. 

'My physical capabilities have become insane.' he thought. 

'Just a few weeks ago doing more than a hundred pushups or situps in one go would leave me half-dead.' 

He flexed his muscles, feeling his bulging abs and pulsating biceps.

Draco's body could now be seen as something surpassing even the mightiest Olympian. He had the form of a world-class bodybuilder, yet the stamina of the fastest marathon runner. 

Although Draco didn't know this, his profound strength only just put him in the range of most above-average powered individuals. 

 

Indeed! Draco was now stronger than most Ḥāmin soldiers, but the gap between the many and the few was vaster than Draco could ever know. 

This was not to mention his lack in combat skill as a whole. This very thought had Draco lost in his mind, thinking over his conundrum. 

'That Ḥāmin soldier in my last match was weaker than me in physical strength. I know my broken hand made it hard to fight, but that man still showed crazy technique.'

Draco thought back to how the Ḥāmin had bounced up after his back-breaking kick. The man had sprung himself around before he had slammed into the stone pillar, and then bounced himself back to Draco using the pillar as a springboard. 

This was not to mention his ceaseless strikes that left Draco few openings even without his injured hand. 

Draco was only able to finish the man off because he had caught the man off guard with his superior strength. 

'If that guy hadn't gotten careless before his victory, right now I would definitely be a pile of bones on the bottom of that bloody sea.' Draco thought with a shudder.

Draco understood that the only way for him to get stronger now would be through practical combat experience. 

His physical strength had reached the peak of what it could possibly be with his current level of empowerment. 

After all, even 500 pushups and situps did little but make him feel slightly fatigued. The gain in strength from his physical exercises became so small it was negligible. 

Draco thought this over while he looked out of his cell's window, his enhanced eye allowed him to see further than he had ever thought possible. 

He watched the powered individuals in the cells below him like a child would watch ants scuttle about an ant-hill. 

Truthfully, Draco himself was little more than an ant to any of the powered beings that owned this vast, white dungeon.

'I wonder who I'm going to fight next.' he wondered

'That white haired girl earlier seemed to be made out of metal, I'm not sure if that was actually the case, but their skin had to have been harder than steel.' 

Draco's eyebrows furrowed, 'I really hope I don't have to fight anyone else like her. If that girl wasn't such a twit they definitely could've ended my life before I could do anything.' 

Draco had now been in his cell for a few hours, longer than he had ever previously been. 

He leaned against his bed on the floor, anxiously awaiting his next match. 

****

While Draco sat people-watching in his cell to stave off boredom, the white haired girl he had previously encountered was laying in their bed within their own cell. 

The woman was tossing and turning in their sleep, and sweat soaked her bedsheets. 

This sweat seemed to be sizzling with heat, and it singed the sheets around her with its temperature. 

The clothes the woman had previously put on had seemingly burnt away from her body's dangerously high temperature, for little more than white rags remained. 

"Brother… no! Please.." the woman cried out in her sleep. 

Suddenly, the woman awoke with a start, and shot up from her bed. 

Panting heavily, she looked around her room. After seeing where she was she calmed down, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Ah, I'm here." she mumbled, looking at the chaotic state of her bed and her lack of clothing. 

"My clothes.. They've burnt again." The woman sighed, shaking her head.

She got out of her bed, letting her short white hair hang over her shoulders. 

As she stood her tattered rags fell from her body, revealing her naked form. Her body was slim and fit, and her curves were proportional to her small frame. 

"I wish they would give me something a little more sturdy." She grumbled, looking out of her window. 

As she was saying this, her cell began to rattle and shake, and a dark look appeared over her features. 

CLANG

Her cell started to steadily move out from among its row, heading towards some unknown location.

'F*ck, already?!' she thought, upset she only had a few seconds of calm before the storm. 

Red text began to flash over her window, confirming her suspicions. 

'AHMAR IMMINENT.' the text read, as if mocking her. 

The woman fought to hold in a yelp as her room was plunged into darkness. Even though she had seen it happen many times, it was always still frightening. 

The room's lights flicked back on to a bright red, and the room began to rock about before a metal sheet loudly slammed shut over her window. 

The cell then abruptly stopped, sending the woman stumbling against her bed. 

Regaining her balance, the woman watched as her cell door promptly slid open. 

She looked down the bloody hallway before her and sighed, walking into it with a resigned look. 

She continued to walk down the hallway before stopping in front of a wall. 

**INITIATING AHMAR # 1 - 1 - 2** a robotic voice blared, sending shivers down her spine. 

Even after numerous battles, the woman still couldn't get used to the creepy voice that so casually announced her misery.

The wall then abruptly disappeared, revealing her arena. 

Bright light shone into the hallway, forcing the woman to squint before her eyes adjusted. 

When she had regained her vision, she looked around to see what could only be described as a vast and endless desert. 

The sandy dunes of the desert continued as far as her eyes could see, and she shook her head in resignation as she walked into the arena. 

Feeling the sand under her bare feet, she looked around, attempting to find anything of note. 

She began to walk further into the desert, wary of any sudden attacks. 

She thought back to her previous encounter with Draco, and remembered the way the other man had held her down and tried to choke the life out of her. 

'Most people here are cruel, I wish they were more like that handsome man who had saved me from that nasty sea.' she thought, seemingly forgetting that Draco was the one who had initially attacked her. 

As she was lost in thought, a white figure became visible in the distance. 

The figure seemed to notice her first. It began to sprint towards her, kicking up sand around it with its movements.

Seeing this, the woman began to shake with fear. 

"Oh, no!" she shouted, turning to run away. 

She ran with a surprising speed, but when she looked over her shoulder the figure seemed to be approaching closer and closer. 

The woman felt her heart pounding into her throat, and when she turned again the figure was even closer.

She could now see that her attacker was a man, and he ran after her with a determined look on his face. 

"Please! Leave me alone!" The woman shouted, but the man paid no heed to her cries. 

Soon, the man was upon her. 

"It's nothing personal, pretty miss." The man said in a gruff tone, reaching out at the girl. 

The man grabbed the woman's white hair in a tight grip, balling it up in his fist. 

The woman shrieked, losing her balance in the sand as she fell towards the man.

In the moment that woman was falling backwards, she tried to brace her fall, but instead ended up elbowing the man in the nose! 

A loud crunch was then heard and the man recoiled away, blood leaking from his face.

The man's nose was now crooked and bloody, and seeing the sorry state of his face he became enraged.

"I was going to let you off easy, but now I need to teach you a lesson." The man said, bouncing up with a half-flip. 

"Just go away!" The white-haired woman yelled, turning back around and trying to pick up speed. 

However, the loose sand below her did little to help her traction, and she slipped when she tried to run again. 

"EAAA!" the woman shrieked, falling forwards. 

The man saw this moment of opportunity, and he stepped forward to attempt to tackle the loud girl

However, just as he was about to reach her a foot slammed into his chest out of nowhere, throwing him into the sand below. 

The woman had kicked behind her, almost like a horse would kick someone who dared get too close to its rear. 

This blow sent the man sprawling, and he was in shock at the hardness of the woman's limbs.

The man stood up shakily, and saw the woman backing up ahead of him. 

'Was she just feigning weakness?!' the man wondered, now wary of the girl's strength as he approached her with newfound caution. 

"You won't get another lucky hit like that off." The man said in anger, ready to end in her life if an opportunity presented itself. 

The woman seemed to leave many openings as she backed away, and the man realized he was worried for nothing. 

'They are surely an amateur. Although their body appears incredibly strong, they seem to lack combat experience.' he realized, relaxing a bit.

Once the man saw another suitable opening he struck out at the woman, intent on breaking their neck in one go. 

Seeing the man's fist approaching, the woman screamed in fear. 

She tried to jump away from the hit, but tripped over her own feet and was sent falling backwards.

Her foot flew up in the air ahead of her, and she watched with horror as it collided straight into the man's jaw! 

A wet squelch could be heard, and she looked on with shock as she saw her foot lodged into the bottom of her attacker's jaw! 

The man attempted to say something, but only gurgling noises could be heard as he grabbed at the woman's foot. 

Blood spurted out from the man's mouth and jaw, and his hands slipped over his own blood as he tried to remove the foot.

The blood stained his white clothing and collected in a pool beneath his feet as he fell down to the sand. 

The man now lay lifeless before the woman, with her foot still lodged through his jaw, touching the roof of the man's mouth. 

The woman was now able to remove her foot with a sickening squelch, and she looked at the dead man with dismay. 

Tears began to flood her eyes, and she looked at the man's collapsed form with utter horror. 

"I- I'm so sorry…" she cried out, futilely trying to stop the blood leaking from the man, not yet realizing that he was dead. 

Eventually, a loud robotic voice echoed over the sand dunes, causing her to drop her now blood soaked hands in defeat. 

**SUBJECT # 1 - 1 - 2 VICTORY.**, the emotionless voice blared.