The Colosseum's newest gladiator stepped out into arena and began walking to its center. The minute he was outside, he began to find himself hating the stark contrasts to what he was so used to for the past few days. The cold stone of the living quarters' floor gave way to scorching sands. The dimly lit torchlight of the prison cells was dwarfed by the blinding visage of the sun, a sight the gladiator had not seen since before imprisonment. He did, however, appreciate the change from the thick, stagnant air of the cell blocks to the natural warmth of the air outside.

The two guards that were accompanying him both grabbed his shoulders and forced him to stay where he was. The gladiator raised his head and turned to the guard on the right, who nodded in the direction in front of him. The combatant then looked ahead to find a massive wheel planted in the center of the arena. Its dark, iron stand plunged into the ground and the massive circle it held was colored over into 17 sections, each one a different color. At the very top of the wheel rested a needle being held on a post completely different stand than the wheel itself.

Standing in front of the wheel was a small man in battle raiment. Though he was obviously very old, his well-toned body and the many scars that covered it made it clear he had been in the arena for a very long time. He smiled at the fresh meat with a look of both curiosity and amusement. In his hands he held two items, amusingly different in condition. In his left hand, he held a shabby spear, its handle splintered and unpainted, its edge stone and barely sharpened. In his right, he held a bronze cuirass with leather shoulder pads. The leather was clearly fresh and the bronze reflected the sun's light as clearly as the sands they stood on. The elderly man held up his arms and presented the armor and weapon to the gladiator. He quickly took the armor first and carefully put it on, being sure not to let the heated metal scorch his flesh. He then promptly took the spear, found an area of the handle that wasn't splintered and tightened his grip on it.

"HA!" The old man grinned. "Ya look good in that armor, sonny. Let's hope you get to wear it for long, eh?"

Erasmus looked at the man with disbelief. How could he be so jovial in such grim circumstances? He pondered a moment whether or not to reply, as talking out of turn usually resulted in getting struck by the guards, but his curiosity overruled his worry.

"Why am I here?" He asked flatly.

"Tax evasion, according to what the guards told me. Pretty dumb reason to get tossed into the damned COLOSSEUM, of all places, but hey, I guess they're desperate for competitors." The elderly man noticed the gladiator's position slack a bit and frowned. He slapped the man on the back and smiled. "Hey, don't worry about it. Better than being a rapist or murderer like everyone else, right? What's your name, sonny?"

"Erasmus."

"Erasmus… nice name. Not very fitting if you end up being a good fighter. Name's Kronos. I handle all the new kiddies that get tossed in here." The seasoned gladiator smiled and shook Erasmus's hand. "Here's hoping you develop into something greater and not into just another mangled corpse, eh?"

"Um, thank you." Erasmus looked around at the crowd, then back to Kronos. "Why are we getting so much time to just stand around and talk? Shouldn't the crowd be getting angry?"

"Don't you worry about that, sonny." The old man pointed to a balcony behind the wheel. On it was a robed man speaking vivaciously to the crowd. "Old man Caius is keeping the crowd busy with one of them 'lively speeches' he loves giving. Let's me tell any new guys what's what."

"But why are you being so friendly to me? A criminal?"

"Criminal? You? Didn't you hear me when I said that the usual bunch are murderers and rapists? You got here because of TAX EVASION, a.k.a. 'Oops, sorry, I'm too poor to pay my taxes,' and from what I hear, you used to be a damned farmer before you got here. You're as much a criminal as I am a Sicilian whore. I'm glad to finally have a technically innocent person here. Being a gladiator requires honor, something the dogs I've been given don't have. Luckily, most of the filth I get are killed within the second day. They're used to killin' defenseless plebes, not the beasties WE have. Heh."

"Umm… Beasties?" Erasmus queried, but before he could be answered, he heard the booming voice of the man in the balcony.

"NOW, ENOUGH TALK! KRONOS! SPIN THE WHEEL AND LET THE NEW COMBATANT. TEST. HIS. METTLE!"

Kronos sighed and nodded at Erasmus. He then walked to the giant, iron wheel and placed his hand around one of the 18 metal bars protruding from it. Then, with one large gesture, he spun the wheel, creating a brilliant, rainbow-colored circle. After about a minute of spinning, the needle landed on the orange section of the wheel. The crowd erupted in bloodthirsty shouts and squeals, while Kronos and the two guards began to leave the arena. When Kronos passed Erasmus, he planted his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Good luck. And if things don't go so well, say 'Hi,' to Pluto for me, would ya?"

Before Erasmus could glare at him, his attention immediately turned to the sound of metal gears grinding. He turned and saw a massive, steel gate beneath the balcony the man named Caius was now sitting in. The door was grimly colored with rust and blood, and was marred with scratches and dents. It rose slowly, but when it was only halfway up, two giant orange flashes dashed from underneath it and quickly arrived in front of Erasmus. When they stopped, Erasmus couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Two colossal dogs stood before him. They had the most peculiar fur color, brilliant orange, with black stripes and beige muzzles and manes. They were twice Erasmus's size easily and had easily identifiable muscles underneath their fur. To Erasmus's horror, the larger of the two, who was most likely the alpha male, snorted fire from his coal-black nostrils. He and his partner then began to circle around Erasmus in opposite directions. They prowled around Erasmus, circling and eying him hungrily.

Erasmus shook his head. The main thing he had to was not let them intimidate him. Though their size and apparent strength was formidable, as well as their ability to harness fire, if Erasmus let that get the better of him now, he'd surely end up being merely a toy to them, a disposable nobody to be killed off near instantly for the crowd's amusement. He would not allow that.

As soon as the smaller beast stood in front of him, Erasmus dashed to it and lunged his spear at its torso. The large dog, surprised by his aggression, could only leap away fast enough for the stab to only puncture the back of its hind leg. Despite the seemingly minor hit, the canine howled in pain and limped as soon as it was grounded from his leap. Immediately, a large amount of blood gushed from the wound, no doubt due to hitting an artery, though Erasmus, who hadn't the slightest idea how the body works, simply figured it good luck. Regardless of the reason, he saw a moment of weakness. He charged at the weakened foe, pulling back his spear-bearing arm to lunge again, but was quickly rammed into by the alpha male.

Erasmus was pinned to the floor by the leader's massive paws, but was still able to move his head back and forth in order to dodge the clamping of his foe's massive jaws. Fortunately, his grip on his spear didn't falter when he was knocked down, and with an impressive display of multitasking, he was able to dodge the beast's lunges gripping the spear near its edge in order to stab the canine's paw. He waited until the dog reeled his head back to bite again when he sunk the stone blade into its left ankle.

Immediately, the dog's paws were lifted from Erasmus's shoulder, and he quickly took advantage of the situation. He grabbed the beast by the bottom of his lower jaw and proceeded to stab every bit of its neck that he could. Blood splattered onto Erasmus's face, but he continued his siege. In fact, he persisted and pushed against the monster's torso, placing it on its back. As soon as the new position was established, Erasmus hunched over the sprawled out creature and continued, now advancing to other parts of the body, such as its chest and belly. Yelps and whimpers of pain were being let out by the now helpless beast, though as its attacker continued, they got weaker until they transitioned from faint whispers to an eerie silence. Finally, only after a few seconds, but still with bloodstained forearms, Erasmus straightened his position and looked down at what he had done. Its beautiful fur was ruined by cuts, stab wounds and bloodstains to the point where he almost regretted destroying its coat's perfect sheen. Erasmus sighed in relief and celebration as he stood up. He took out the bigger on and only an injured subordinate was left. And best of all, he thought, he was still relatively undama-…

It was at that moment Erasmus's thoughts were cut short by a searing pain in his chest. Before he could look down to see what had happened, he was already being sent sprawling to the ground by the force of whatever had hit him. The disgruntled fighter, now on his back, lifted his head to see the barely-alive dog panting and leaning against the stone walls between them and the crowd. Erasmus could see a trail of smoke coming from its jaw. He then focused his attention to his chest and the sight that greeted him almost made him wretch.

The bronze cuirass had been easily penetrated by whatever blaze that hit him, a giant hole having formed, letting Erasmus easily see the damage the attack did to his body. The skin on his chest was black and dead, already peeling off to show the blood and muscle beneath. The repugnant smell of burnt flesh was torturous to say the least, but the pain he was experiencing easily undermined any other unpleasant sensations.

Erasmus let his head rest on the warm sand of the arena. He shut his eyes to protect them from the blinding sun and sweat on his brow. He slowly began realizing just how tired he was. The seemingly relentless assault on the alpha male, the avoiding of its vicious bites and now having been taken out by some kind of fire blast its kind is capable of using. All of it had made him so tired. So weak. He couldn't find any strength. He had done well, at least. He was so close to victory. So close to seeing another day. And yet, it seemed to be all for naught. It seemed the Gods wanted him to fight a spectacular battle, to face such a struggle and to go the distance, only to pitifully fall with the first hit. There was no way he was destined for such a fate, no way to go so far only to fall so short. He needed to pull through, he HAD to make it out of here.

Slowly, Erasmus lifted himself up, every nerve in his body receiving either pain or overwhelming fatigue, every fiber in his being telling him to simply lay back down and die. However, he managed to stand, and even more astonishing, he lifted his spear-wielding arm and drew it back, tightening the muscles in his bicep. The beast snorted angrily at the stubbornness of his foe and began to charge at him. This time, however, a blaze began to surround it, a swirl of fire engulfing its body, but obviously not injuring it. Erasmus gulped in a moment of nervous fear, but the imminent danger only strengthened his resolve. He narrowed his eyes, took aim at the massive beast and chucked his spear at it, praying that he would hit it, and even more importantly, praying that he'd hit it in time for the attack to not reach him.

And yet, at that moment, almost all the sounds in the Colosseum ceased. The growling of the dog, the cackling of its fire and the roaring of the crowd, all of these sounds silenced by the short, almost sickening sound of the spear's edge penetrating flesh and bone. After he threw his weapon, Erasmus closed his eyes in both fear and prayer, and when he opened them, he saw his foe lying right in front of him, critically injured and bleeding even more profusely than before. And there, wedged into the dog's forehead, was Erasmus's spear. The gladiator sighed in relief and fell to the ground, sitting on the floor and no longer caring about the sand's scorching heat. However, before Erasmus actually rested, an idea popped up in his head.

With a smile, he scooted towards the most recently slain beast, not daring to attempt getting up again. Though it took a bit of effort, he managed to pull the spear out of its head and began skinning it, starting by creating an incision above its ribcage and carving out a massive rectangle of fur. When he finished, he slowly stood up, once again taking great effort to do so, and wrapped the skin around his waist. It dangled down to his ankles and covered the sides and back of his legs, as if it was an unfinished dress or tunic. Regardless of its odd appearance, Erasmus was quite fond of it, both as means of clothing and a trophy. At the very least, it beat just wearing a loin cloth.

Erasmus looked over to the gate he came out of to see Kronos running towards him, donning the most prideful, elated grin he'd ever seen. As soon as he arrived, he put his arm around Erasmus's back, an invitation to be used as support that he happily accepted. Kronos began walking back to the gate, but Erasmus resisted and momentarily pulled away to face Caius's balcony. He pointed his spear at him and bellowed, with all of his might:

"You now see what happens when you sic your beasts on me. You ALL have seen what happens when I've been pushed to my limits, when I've been driven into a corner. Know this: I, Erasmus, will NOT die in this place. I will NOT be a corpse created for your amusement and I will NOT be an exposable pawn for the sake of a laugh or cheer! But I implore you, if it means my freedom, then let them come! Unleash upon me any man, beast or machine you have! Bring them to me! Be they made of flesh, fur, or the mechanisms of Pluto himself, it matters not. Regardless, I promise you…"

Erasmus planted his spear into the ground and shouted, "THEY WILL ALL BE BROUGHT BACK TO YOU IN PIECES."

And with that, he turned around and followed Kronos to the gate, once again using his new friend as support. As they walked, Erasmus relished in the screams and fervor of the crowd. To be honest, he didn't really know why he said what he had. Perhaps it was to concrete the resolve he had that he wouldn't die. Perhaps it was just to make himself feel better. It might have even been him bragging that he was still alive and using arrogance to cover up the fact that his luck may very well not last long. Regardless the reason, he didn't care, not at the moment anyways. All he wanted at the moment was to fall asleep on the first thing he could, be it the pile of hay that came with his cell or the very floor itself.