Max paced the waiting room floor, his footfalls eerily silent against the ready chamber's padded flooring. The countdown display on the wall showed less than ten minutes before his match with Abigail. His ears twitched involuntarily, picking up the distant roar of the busy casino floor beyond the walls.

"[Broken Cup, you need to center yourself. Your worry is a tool that is only useful to your opponent. You need to embrace the no-thinking void.]" Musashi grumbled from his position in Max's HUD.

"[Let him pace if he wants to,]" Dr. House countered. "[Better to burn off excess adrenaline now than have it interfere with his reaction times later.]"

Max ignored the bickering daemons, focusing instead on the tactical display showing Abigail's previous match statistics. Her win-loss ratio was intimidating—forty-seven wins, zero losses. Xavier's defeat last week still stung, and the stakes couldn't be higher. If Max lost today, their casino heist plan would collapse before it even began. His team was almost ready, but he needed to survive tonight.

"[Her pattern recognition and counter-preparation are her primary advantages,]" Tesla noted, highlighting segments of past matches. "[She studies her opponents thoroughly and develops specific counters for their signature moves.]"

"[She's also unpredictable,]" Sherlock added. "[Note how she never uses the same opening gambit twice. It makes predicting her initial strategy nearly impossible.]"

Captain Cipher's digital avatar nodded. "[Her information security is impeccable. Unlike most competitors, she's only lost control of her combat drones twice in all her matches.]"

"[The statistics suggest she possesses an eidetic memory for combat situations,]" Stephen Hawking reported with slight hysteria. "[Her response time improves by 1.7% on average when facing a previously encountered attack sequence. Oh god, I'm going to deactivate now. I hate combat!]"

Max stopped pacing and took a deep breath. "[Mal, you've been very quiet. What do you think?]"

Mal's voice came softly, almost hesitant. "[She's dangerous, Max. She wouldn't be the current champion if she wasn't. She is a meticulous planner and has counters for what she knows. You may have to rely on skills she's never seen to surprise her.]"

"[The Chthonic abilities,]" Max whispered.

"[Yes,]" Mal replied, hesitation evident in her voice. "[But Max, be careful. There's something about those skills—]"

The countdown timer flashed red, indicating one minute remaining. Max rolled his shoulders and activated his pre-fight skills.

[PreCog active, OverLayer Gestalt active, Reflex active, Ballistics active, Multitask active, Bastion active, Swarm active, Gland output – adrenaline, Stealth active, Regeneration ready]

[Access link: 4,170 deployed motes, Sym-hornet drones x3, Robo-Raven, Grappler, Proximity foglets, Smart suit – light armor configuration]

[Energy 3,090/3,720], [Energy Regen 1200/min]

"Show time," Max murmured as the platform beneath him began to rise.

The arena materialized around him, and Max froze. Towering trees stretched skyward, dappled sunlight filtering through a thick canopy. The earthy scent of loam and pine-filled his nostrils, accompanied by the distant sound of running water.

It wasn't a perfect recreation of the forest where he'd first trained, where he'd come close to dying at the hands of Tyler, but it was damn close. Abigail wasn't in sight. His overlays threw a notice. Max read it quickly and minimized notifications.

[Abigail Humphrey (EuroSport) & James Zedroid (Luna AI), Type: KNOCKOUT Player v Player High Stakes Challenge (winner payout x3, loser ejected from Labyrinth), Form: Battle Royal, Location: Aboral Wilderness 13.]

"Clever," Max whispered, scanning the trees for any sign of Abigail. "They're trying to throw me off my game."

"[It appears Lachesis believes this environment will trigger psychological distress,]" Sherlock noted.

Max smiled grimly and spoke. "Their mistake. I might have suffered here, but this is where I learned to fight."

He sent out swarms of motes, establishing a perimeter grid while activating his Mask skill. His form blurred slightly, blending with the forest backdrop as he silently moved deeper into the trees.

"[It's clear that she will attempt to ambush you,]" Musashi warned. "[Her chameleon capability exceeds your own cloaking skill, Max-san.]"

"Then we don't play her game," Max replied out loud, deploying his web of tactile motes and recon drones further. "Sherlock, help me read the forest."

"[Analyzing,]" the detective daemon replied, leaning in to help Max fully utilize his pattern-matching skill in fast time. "[There—southwest quadrant. Leaf displacement pattern inconsistent with current wind variables.]"

Max snapped his K-gun up just as a shimmer of movement caught his eye. He fired a precise burst, but the target was already gone, leaving only disturbed foliage.

"Too slow, puppy," Abigail's voice echoed from seemingly everywhere. "I've been studying you. Too bad your little show at the high table failed. Are you Kane's new puppet, now that Nigel has been ousted? No matter, you need to face me now. I hope your performance is more challenging than your little pal, Xavier. That match was such a disappointment."

Max remained silent, letting his motes and drones spread throughout the forest canopy. They reported back with environmental data—temperature variances, air displacement, and subtle electromagnetic disturbances. His nose's natural ability clued him in first, upwind he caught her scent, further up the creek.

He rolled left as a barrage of enemy micro-drones burst from the undergrowth, their needle-tipped projectiles embedding in the tree where he'd been standing. The drones circled back, adjusting their trajectory to track him.

[Expose: Seeker-class micro-drones, proximity targeting, non-explosive darts, potential non-lethal poison payload 40%.]

[Expose +1, Expose reaches level 10, skill cap award +100 XP]

Max pulsed an EMP burst, dropping three of the five drones, but the remaining two adjusted their shielding and continued pursuit. He sprinted toward the creek, gathering motes into a defensive cloud and dropping nano-chaff in hopes of stymying any motes Abigail might be using.

[Focused EMP +1, Focused EMP reaches level 9, Puppeteer +1, Puppeteer reaches level 6, Nano-chaff +1, Nano-chaff reaches level 4, Radar +1, Radar reaches level 9]

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"[Too reactive, Max-san. You need to take control of the fight.] Musashi urged.

"[She's herding you,]" Sherlock warned. "[Note the pattern of attack. She wants you by the water.]"

"[I know,]" Max replied, swerving at the last moment and leaping onto a low-hanging branch. "[Let's see what surprise she has waiting.]" He shot out his grappler and quickly outdistanced the slower drones with his rapid swings and leaps, using his extra senses to track the small army of drones following.

[Stiction +1, Stiction reaches level 10, skill cap award +100 XP]

[Radar +1, Radar reaches level 10, skill cap award +100 XP, Echolocation +1, Echolocation reaches level 10, skill cap award +100 XP]

The ground near the creek shimmered as a complex web of laser tripwires activated, visible only when his gestalt vision cycled into the infrared. Had he continued on his path, he would have triggered what appeared to be a concussion trap-mine array.

"Predictable. Does she think I'm a noob?" Max muttered, using his motes to map the trap's full extent.

A soft laugh came from behind him. "Says the man dancing to my tune."

Max spun, but too late. Abigail materialized from the forest backdrop; her combat suit blended perfectly to match the dappled shadows. Her first strike caught him across the shoulder, sending him tumbling from the branch. He rolled with the fall, coming up in a defensive stance as she descended like a wraith.

Her fighting style was unlike anything he'd encountered—a fluid mixture of martial disciplines combined with tech-assisted strikes. Each time he thought he had her pattern mapped, she would shift to a new approach, keeping him perpetually off-balance.

"Musashi, I need options!" Max gasped, after a particularly brutal exchange left him with a bleeding gash across his muzzle. He backpedaled as he fought off her rain of blows, steadily retreating into the brush.

"[Her style has at least four different martial styles that I know and two unknowns,]" the samurai daemon reported. "[She seems weakest when transitioning between styles. Swapping weapons during a fight is foolish. You can use that, Max-san. It could be her undoing.]"

Max nodded, letting his precog skill guide his movements as he deliberately baited her into the specific combination. There—the tiny hesitation Musashi had identified. Max exploded forward, landing a solid strike to Abigail's sternum that sent her staggering back.

She recovered quickly, a smile spreading across her face. "Not bad, doggie. You've got more bite than your friend Xavier. But you'll be joining him soon enough."

Max growled, feeling his patience waning, and flexed his claws. Before the fight, he'd applied the chimera poison he'd acquired from the casino security captain to them. It was a potentially dangerous move as his resistance wasn't on par with Charlie's yet, but he was running out of options.

During their next clash, he managed to scratch her exposed neck with the coated claw. Abigail didn't immediately react, continuing her assault with undiminished ferocity. Max frowned, backing away to create distance.

"That should have worked," he muttered.

Abigail laughed, touching the small scratch on her neck. "Chimera poison? Really?" She shook her head. "I've been inoculating myself against every known toxin in the catalog for years. Did you really think I wouldn't prepare for that too?"

Max barely had time to process this information before she launched a devastating counterattack. A blow to his solar plexus drove the air from his lungs, and he gasped for breath. She swept his legs and side-kicked him hard enough to send him flying.

He landed hard, but before he could get up his PreCog skill screamed. Too late, he realized he'd landed amidst the mines, and he was driven through the brush with a series of explosions. He struggled to sit up when a weight landed on him and pinned his arms down.

"Give up!" she commanded, pressing the blade until a thin line of blood appeared.

"Not in this lifetime!" Max wheezed, triggering his reserve of motes to create a momentary visual distraction. He amped up his molten spray and hulk skills.

[Hulk +1, Hulk reaches level 9, Molten Spray +2, Molten Spray reaches level 4]

[Unbreakable activated to prevent disabling, Regeneration activated]

[Warning: Energy 350 / 3,372 Reduction past zero has the potential to damage your power core.]

The split-second diversion was enough for him to break her hold and fling her off. She crashed through a tree, her hair smoking under the fiery barrage, as he leaped away putting distance between them. His options were dwindling rapidly, and he couldn't afford to hold back. It was time for his trump card.

"[Mal, prepare the tesseract,]" he sent.

"[Max, I don't think—]" she began.

"[No time for debates, Mal. Lachesis is already very aware of this one. Just be sure to use the Cherenkov noise maker. We need to continue to lay breadcrumbs for our heist,]" he snapped, ducking behind a massive tree trunk.

He focused his concentration, reaching through the dimensional fold to access the weaponry stored within his tesseract space. The portal opened just enough to allow the muzzle of the stolen capital-class mazer to emerge. Max took aim at Abigail's approaching shadow and fired.

The brilliant energy beam sliced through the forest—and struck a reflective surface that Abigail had deployed at the last second. Max knew something was wrong before it happened. There was a slight smirk on Abigail's face as if she was waiting for this. One of her battle drones had instantly snapped out a mirrored defensive shield, redirecting the powerful beam back toward its source.

Max crashed backward against the tree, his combat suit smoking and his HUD flickering with damage reports. Blood trickled from his side, front and back, where the beam had burned through him. His vision blurred as his healing and regeneration stole power from his reserves to keep him standing.

Abigail stalked forward, slow and confident. "Impressive weapon, pup dog. I seem to recall a golem boss on the first floor with that type of weapon. Did you steal it?" She gestured, and her remaining drones formed a perimeter around them, their weapons trained on Max. "I've studied every move you've made since entering the Labyrinth. Did you really think I wouldn't be ready for your little dimensional pocket trick? Once I beat you into submission, I'll take it for myself!"

Through the haze of pain, Max felt a cold fury building. He reached deep inside himself, to the alien skill he'd been hesitant to employ.

[Chthonic Joining activated. Warning: Unstable noise detected.]

Max extended his consciousness outward, feeling the motes around him, feeling the digital architecture of Abigail's drones, feeling the smart fibers of her combat suit. He pulled, drawing them all into his influence, subsuming their functions under his will.

Abigail's eyes widened as her suit suddenly locked up, and her drones turned toward her instead of Max. "What the hell—"

But Max wasn't listening anymore. The Chthonic Joining had opened a channel, deeper and more profound than ever before. He felt the Tesseract node pulsing, felt something vast and ancient stirring within the hidden walls behind the Tesseract's volume. The rage of a being from his nightmares, Cthulhu, poured through the connection. The tsunami of alien consciousness flooded into his mind.

Max screamed as reality seemed to fragment around him. Pain lanced through his skull, waves of decoherence threatening to unravel his very being. His vision was filled with twisted geometries and colors that didn't exist on the prismatic spectrum.

Through the maelstrom, he dimly saw Abigail break free of her locked suit, her face set in determined lines as she manually reset her drones. They reoriented, weapon ports glowing as they prepared to fire. Max couldn't see it, blinded by pain. He gagged, blood erupted from his mouth and trickled from his eyes and ears, as he collapsed in a heap.

"[MAX!]" Mal's voice cut through the chaos. "[I'm pulling you out!]"

Inside the tesseract space, its manipulator arms extended, reaching through as the dimensional portal sprang open. They wrapped around Max's convulsing form and yanked him backward, through the portal and into the protective confines of the pocket dimension.

The last thing Max saw before the portal closed was Abigail's stunned expression as her drones fired into empty space.

In the arena control room, the casino judges and administrators stared at their displays in confusion. The contestant tracking systems showed a complete loss of signal for Max's implants and biometrics.

"What just happened?" the lead judge demanded, smacking the side of his head to try and settle what he assumed was a faulty short in his photosensors.

A technician NPC shook her head. "Unknown, sir. One of the contestants appears to have... vanished from the arena."

On the forest floor, Abigail circled the spot where Max had been standing moments before. "Interesting trick, dog boy," she murmured. "Very interesting indeed." She lashed out with an explosive EMP dropping fragments of Max's motes and foglets to the ground. She hissed as her hope of revealing a chameleon shrouded Max was dashed. He really was gone!

The match status remained pending, neither victory nor defeat was registered for either contestant. In the darkness of the tesseract space, Max floated unconscious, blood streaming from his eyes and ears as Mal frantically worked House to stabilize his condition.

Lachesis narrowed her virtual eyes in her observation space. The rules regarding the Knockout match had never covered this. With no loser to eject, her system declined to award the match to Abigail. Worse, she still didn't have that boy's damned device. She fumed. She could already feel the outrage building from the oddsmakers and bookies as bets couldn't be processed. The match's ending wasn't one that meet any wagers with no conclusion at all.

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