The transition from Level Two to Level Three was like falling from a freezer into a furnace.
As the lift doors hissed open, Jake and Kristen were met with the smell of scorched earth and overheated hydraulic fluid.
They didn't find a corridor; they found "The Pit"—a vast, circular arena originally designed for the Master's "stress-testing" of Assets.
Above them, behind reinforced observation glass, a red light pulsed. Lucy and Chris had successfully hacked the turrets, but the Shadow had anticipated the breach. She had rerouted all local power to the arena's heavy-containment doors.
"Stay centred," Jake commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated in his chest.
He chambered a slug into his tactical shotgun, his eyes scanning the perimeter. "Don't let them pin us against the curve."
Kristen stood back-to-back with him, her twin obsidian-coated blades held in a reverse grip.
She felt the vibration beneath her boots—a rhythmic, heavy thudding that suggested something massive was moving behind the steel gates.
"The Enforcer and the Blade," the Shadow's voice boomed, distorted by the arena's acoustics.
"Jake, you were always the Master's favourite blunt instrument. You think you're strong because you protect a girl? Let's see how you handle a version of yourself that doesn't feel pain. Initiate the Goliath Protocol."
Four massive gates slid upward simultaneously. From the steam and shadows emerged the Goliaths—seven-foot-tall cybernetic juggernauts.
They weren't drones; they were biological frames encased in reinforced titanium plating, their arms replaced by hydraulic rams and high-frequency saws.
"Jesus," Kristen whispered, her eyes tracking their movement.
"They're moving too fast for their size."
"Focus on the joints, Kris!" Jake roared as the first Goliath lunged.
The impact was like a freight train hitting a mountain. Jake caught the Goliath's hydraulic arm mid-swing, his own boots skidding across the concrete floor, leaving deep gouges in the stone. His muscles bulged, the seams of his tactical vest straining as he held back a ton of mechanical force.
Kristen didn't wait. She used Jake's shoulder as a springboard, launching herself into the air.
She moved like a red-and-black blur, a whirlwind of steel. She knew she couldn't cut through the titanium torso, so she went for the sensory clusters.
Clang-shink!
Her blade found the gap in the neck plating of the second Goliath. She twisted, the obsidian edge severing the main optical feed. The giant machine let out a mechanical shriek, flailing blindly.
"One down!" she shouted, landing in a low crouch and immediately rolling under the sweep of a third Goliath's saw-blade. "Jake, 10 o'clock!"
Jake let out a primal roar. "I realised that standard ammunition wasn't going to win this." He dropped his shotgun, reaching for the heavy kinetic hammer he had retrieved from the Level One Armoury.
He swung the hammer in a massive arc, the head glowing with blue energy. It connected with the lead Goliath's chest, the kinetic discharge sending a shockwave through the arena that shattered the nearby observation lights.
The titan was sent flying back, its chest cavity caved in, sparks showering the floor.
"You want a blunt instrument?" Jake spat, his face covered in grit and oil.
"I'll give you one!"
But the Goliaths were relentless. The third and fourth machines closed in, their programming adapting to Jake's strength.
One caught him with a glancing blow to the ribs, sending him stumbling.
"Jake!" Kristen screamed. She saw the opening.
As the Goliath reared back for a finishing blow, she didn't attack the machine—she attacked the floor.
She threw a high-intensity cryo-grenade at the Goliath's feet. The sudden flash-freeze turned the hydraulic fluid in its legs to slush.
The machine froze for a split second, its momentum carrying it forward into a stumble.
"Now!"
Jake didn't hesitate. He planted his feet, ignored the searing pain in his ribs, and swung the hammer upward in a devastating "home run" strike.
The blow struck Goliath under the jaw, the kinetic energy travelling up through the skull and detonating the internal battery.
The explosion was deafening. The last two Goliaths were caught in the blast radius, their systems fried by the electromagnetic pulse.
As the smoke cleared, the arena fell into a haunting silence. Jake was leaning heavily on his hammer, his chest heaving.
Kristen rushed to his side, her hands moving over his torso to check for internal damage.
"I'm fine," Jake gasped, though the blood on his lip suggested otherwise.
"Just... give me a second."
Up in the control booth, the red light turned green. Lucy's voice crackled through their comms.
"Jake, Kristen, the path to Level Four is open. But we've lost the Shadow's signal. She's moved to the bottom floor. Alicia and Jason are already heading down."
Kristen looked at the carnage around them—the twisted metal and smoking husks of the Master's greatest weapons.
She looked at Jake, the man who had just stood against gods for her.
"She thinks she can break us by sending monsters," Kristen said, her voice turning cold and sharp.
"She doesn't realise that we've already survived the worst monster of all."
She helped Jake stand, and together, they turned toward the final elevator.
Level Four was the heart of the Nest, where the Shadow was waiting. And the three couples were finally converging.