This frantic polka involves me strafing out from behind my pillar, quickly firing off a few desperate unaimed rounds, then diving back behind the pillar to evade the flaming death tossed from that deformed left arm. I clumsily fumble to swap my ineffectual pulse rifle for my own rocket launcher in a hopeless attempt to make the uneven playing field a little less unbalanced, and so a dance begins. I move, running pell-mell towards the nearest of the pillars, bearing what I now recognise to be the Cyberdemon’s ugly visage, and slide behind it as a trio of rockets whistle past my ears. But for what? Me, obviously but what else? As I trace the progress of the wall, I run my hands over it, looking in vain for the vestiges of a hidden door – not an impossibility since many have been peppered throughout the facility – when suddenly a deafening sound breaks the silence. ‘So, it’s an arena is it?’, I think to myself. I wander to the northern wall, across the waves of black sand that blanket the ground and come up against an impervious brown granite wall. Pillars dot the landscape, each with a hideous face carved into their surface over and over again. I try to get my bearings, glancing at the blood red sky with dark clouds racing across it like a celestial grand national, the thought pops into my head, ‘That can’t be good’. Why have they opened it up now? What could need all this space? And how do I get out of here? Like an agoraphobic shut-in forced out their front door I feel a pang of panic and questions swirl in my head. Up until now this place has been closed in, space has been tight and hard to come by, suddenly this abundance of it is disconcerting and disorientating. I take a few steps and find myself in a wide-open space. A sense of urgency presses me to randomly select the northern exit and I’m met with a familiar abomination, one I have met many times before now and dispatch with practised ease, the thrum of the rifle and the crackle of the balls of lightning making short work of it.
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