[Singh]

Lets see who wins.

Oh - and bloody murder! someone should increase the character limits in the arts forum! I hate splitting up nice long stories into chunks like this

****

In the depths of the forerunner ship, he looked on at the vast structure surrounding him.

His armor bruised, burned and battered, the only thing that shone anymore was the visor covering his face – and even that was so scratched up, it was surprising he could still see through it. The olive green armor that covered his entire body was smeared by several black spots where the impact of plasma bolts, shotgun shells and bullets had either singed, burned or dented it.

It was a miracle he was still alive, that much was for sure. Checking his weapon, he saw that it had been smashed significantly by the impact. Discarding it, the Master chief instead withdrew one of the pistols he had picked up from the flood he had fought on the way.

And yet, he hoped for a miracle that would ensure that the person he left behind would stay alive.

Taking an unsteady step forwards, Master Chief Jon 117 continued to look around for an opening – some sort of exit from this area. It appeared to be underneath a large engine complex of sorts – probably a storage or loading area that had been added on by the Covenant in the generations the ship had remained aboard high charity. But there was no way out of here, and the massive doors behind him were sealed shut. Not that he'd want to go out anyway – they would be about to hit Earth atmosphere now. Although the Mjnolnir armour was tough, it wasn't that tough to survive re-entry. Space wasn't any better either.

Thinking about space, the Master chief shuddered. He remembered the comrades he had lost at Reach; some of them ending up floating helplessly in space. Pushing the thoughts aside, however, he continued to look. There was a mission to complete, and he had to stop the prophet before he activated the rings. The Master Chief could only hope that Cortona was able to hold out at her end.

Finally, after several seconds, he found an exit. It was on the other side of the room; and came in the form of a ladder. The ladder appeared to lead to a door that was hidden behind several columns. He could barely see it; and had only picked it up on the Infrared sensors in his helmet. It was nesteled away quite well.

The Master chief didn't waste any time, running full-tilt towards the ladder, and then jumping on it such that he was already half-way up. Within a second, he reached the top, and then continued to run forwards. The pathway appeared hastily constructed, and had no side rails whatsoever. It disappeared into the wall however, turning a corner just a few feet in. The ceiling was quite low – he'd have to hunch to not bump the ceiling. It must have been meant for either grunts or jackals – an elite would hardly be comfortable in it, while Brutes would certainly not fit. This could prove to his advantage.

Stooping low, he waited just before turning the corner, listening for signs of activity. There were none. He'd normally just use the optical extension to scout around the corner, but deploying and withdrawing it would take time – besides, if anyone was here, they would have surely spotted him by now.

Turning the corner, pistol primed and ready, the Master Chief was relieved to see nobody on guard. Only the door was there, and it was open. The corridor that lay beyond was far, far different from the ones he had gone through on most other Covenant ships. The corridor walls were a dull grey color, however, several bright blue viens ran through them, casting the entire corridor in an eerie twilight.

It would have bothered him, but for some reason, it seemed oddly familiar – almost as if he had seen this before. The feeling kept nagging him at the back of his head as he walked down the corridor.

After nearly a minute, he approached a dead end, where the corridor split off to either side in a large 'T' junction. Looking both left and right, he saw that it was clear. But where was he going to go? Getting a map wasn't possible – covenant systems were bad enough, but forerunner systems? Without cortona to help, there was no way he could get access to the maps. He was going to have to improvise, from the looks of it.

Taking a right, he slowly moved down the corridor, keeping a sharp ear out for any hostile movement. The Master Chief noticed, however, that despite walking for quite a bit – there weren't many doors at all. The ones that he did try to access were almost always locked.

It was odd....why was the entire area empty? Normally one would expect gaurds or the like, at the very least, a few roaming patro-.

From up ahead, a noise interrupted his thoughts - the sound of slow, heavy footfalls echoing through the corridor.

Speak of the devil he thought to himself. Looking around, the Master Chief searched for some sort of cover. There was a door nearby to his right, but walking up to it produced no result – it was locked up fairly tight. Looking at the console to the right, he tried to manipulate it, working it. The controls were vaguely like that of the Covenant's. The screen behind the visor translated the symbols to their approximate human equivalents. He realized that the door wasn't locked – just not under automatic control. He set it to open manually, and then lock up immediately afterwards.

With a soft swoosh, the doors split apart, revealing a somewhat dark room beyond. Switching to night vision, the master chief realized that the room was nothing more than a supply cabinet.

Quickly stepping in, he watched as the doors closed quickly, plunging the room back into the darkness.

He had to wait for sometime as the footfalls grew louder and louder, till, finally, they came to outside his door. The seemed to stop for a few seconds just outside it, however. The Master Chief quitely removed the safety off the pistol, prepared for the worst. If it was indeed brutes, then this would be a difficult scenario indeed. But still, he had been through worse.

And he always won.
He sat there, tense for nearly a minute, about ready to pounce at the door. But then, finally the footsteps continued moving on.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the Master Chief looked around for anything usefull. There was only what looked like cleaning equipment here, as well as detergents that the Covenant might have used. The room itself was tiny; barely enough to accommodate him and all the equipment. A glowing console nearby provided the only light with which he could see in the normal spectrum.

Manipulating the console, he opened the doors, pistol drawn and ready. But when he looked out, there was no-one. Whomever it was had walked away, from the looks of it.

Taking this as a sign of good luck, the Master Chief didn't waste any time, moving as fast as he could through the corridor while still maintaining a degree of stealth.

He kept on moving down the hall, coming across a junction a few seconds later.

There were sounds here again – mostly growls and footsteps. This time coming from the left side of the junction. Snaking the optical instrument around the corner, he took a quick peek at the other side. Three Jackals had gathered here – two were wielding shields and another a sniper rifle. One of the ones with the shields were facing towards the junction, while the other was just leaning against the wall, staring into nowhere. Just past the junction was a large window of the view outside. The third jackal with the sniper rifle was looking just past this, at what appeared to be a storm they were travelling through. It was facing away from the Master Chief.

He needed a way to draw them out. But it wouldn't be easy. But then, fighting the Covenant rarely ever was. Checking the pistol, he nodded to himself. It was time to act.

Without a second thought, and with blinding speed, the Master Chief hurled himself around the corridor, throwing a punch at the jackal on the right with one hand, while using the other to shoot the other Jackal's head over the shield.

They didn't even have time to react. The one of the left crumpled almost immediately, while the one on the right barely had time to look in his direction before his punch smashed it's face in, spilling blood on the wall next to him. He brought the gun up at the last jackal, which had whirled around and was now raising it's gun to face him. But when he pulled the trigger, it only clicked.

Not wasting any time, he immediately threw the pistol up, grabbed it by the barrel, and then flung it at the last Jackal before ducking to the side. The pistol hit the jackal in the chin, knocing it's head back with a resounding and somewhat sick snap. The Jackal did manage to get off a shot, though, which barely missed where the Master Chief's head was a mere half a second ago.

Getting up, he immiediately grabbed the beam rifle as well as the Covenant's plasma pistols. They would serve to be somewhat useful in the upcoming fight.

Running down the corridor, the Master Chief ran by the window, only glancing out to try and get a rough grasp of where they were.

Then he froze. Turning, he faced the window fully, staring out at the storm.

He had just seen something – something out of the corner of his eye that, even with his reflexes, he barely noticed. It had been something in the clouds that had gathered outside. Something strange.....

It had looked like a face.

He attempted to discount it to fatigue, or just a random cloud formation. But even in that glance – even in that momentary glimpse of it...it had looked so real.

Then the Master chief studied the storm itself.

It raged outside the craft; as if the ship itself was stationary and the storm was around it. But yet, the Master chief knew – staying still would be suicide for the Prophet, and he wouldnt be so stupid as to merely stand in one place – not when potentially hundreds of anti-aircraft guns could be fired at the craft. This was no Covenant cruiser afterall – far smaller, it was probably significantly more vulnerable to such things.

But even if they were moving....the storm must have been following them, or at least be very, very large for it to remain there as long as it did. Storms would be no threat to the forerunner ship itself; but still....

As the Master Chief looked on, he could feel a chill run down his spine. He had seen some pretty disturbing things before, but none of them disturbed them as did this storm. He didn't know what it was about the storm, but it was downright creepy to even look at it. The way the clouds boiled and rumbled indicated as if they were reacting....reacting to his gaze and curiousity, almost.

Shaking himself off the view, the Master Chief focused on his mission. There was no time to go site-seeing....too much depended on him now, too many people were counting on him to win this war.

Then the entire ship lurched, as if something had hit it. The Master Chief staggered, catching his balance quickly. The lights went dim, while the veins in the walls surrounding shifted colors from a plae blue to a bright white and yellow mix. Looks like the entire ship had gone into battle stations, or something similar.

Then he heard it – a loud explosion emerging from somewhere nearby. Apperantly, someone or something had managed to hit the ship badly enough to have made a difference.

Breaking into a run, he forgot all guise of stealth and ran full-tilt down the hall. As he passed, he recognized several signs on the way. They were similar to the ones he had seen on covenant ships. The nearest one was the detention centre. He made it his choice of targets – if he could get there and nuetralize the gaurds, he'd have access to a lot more weapons, at the very least. And from the looks of it, if a Covenant computer was there, he'd at least be able to get a map as well.

Running down the corridors, he managed to avoid a few of the patrols that were running to the scene of the recent incident. Maintaning some stealth helped him as he ducked into an unused room here and there as patrols went by. It was nothing but sheer, incredible luck that not one of them managed to catch him as he made his way to the junction near the cell blocks. Here, he saw that there were two brutes gaurding the doorway. One was wielding a plasma rifle, while the other a Covenant carbine.

The odds simply couldn't get any better.

Both were located at the centre junction where three corridors met. The Master Chief was at the right side of this junction, at the end of a long corridor. Creeping around the corner, he brought the rifle's sight up and aimed at the nearest Brute before letting loose a shot that went clear through it's head, dropping it to the ground. Within a fraction of a second, he fired again on the second brute, flooring it as well. The beam rifle overcharged from the quick fire, spitting out hot steam from the plasma battery. Putting it aside, the Master Chief wielded both of the plasma pistols and then charged out from behind cover to the doors.

Within two seconds, he was already approaching the doors – however, he could see that they were opening, possibly allowing for re-enforcements to come through.

Not to be overwelhmed, however, the Master Chief pressed the triggers on both the plasma pistols, bringing them up to overcharge. As he approached the doors, he made a massive leap in mid-air, turning his body around to face the door as it flew past. The doors opened, revealing the faces of two brutes who began to step forward. Their faces grew in surprise as they saw the Master Chief fly past at unnatural speeds.

And then their faces were no longer as both the plasma bolts smashed into them, the heat causing one of them to scream and collapse onto the ground as the plasma did it's work. The other just stood there, his body limp and about to collapse.

The Master Chief didn't waste any time; he rolled and recovered from the drop, immediately reaching for and picking up a Covenant Carbine. Bringing it up, the Master Chief charged the still-standing Brute's body, smashing into it and using it as a shield as he charged into the room, expecting a hail of fire to come after him.

But none did.

Instead, he heard, as well as felt, the loud howling sound of the wind as it escaped into low pressure. Looking on into the room, for once in his life, the Master Chief was truly and completely horrified at what he saw.

The entire room was large, holding several cells on two levels. At the end of the room, beyond a large central pillar, there appeared to be an airlock that at one point of time must have been heavily gaurded – however, where the airlock doors one were there was only a large gaping hole showing the boiling and rumbling clouds beyond it. He could see the faint flicker of a containment screen as it tried to hold the atmosphere in, suceeding only partially on doing so.

What was most striking however, were two things:

The first and the most obvious, was the thing that had lodged itself firmly in the central pillar. From the databanks in the suit, he recognized it as a Terran helicopter – a motorized helicopter, and an extremely old variety, too. Nobody used things like this anymore, much less against the Covenant.

The Chopper was smashed to bits, almost – the blades were strewn over the entire room, some of the bits impaling various brutes and jackals nearby.

What was surprising, however, was that the body itself was still intact. Normally, any impact at the kind of velocities they were thinking about would have utterly vaporized the helicopter, much less only destroy it's blades. Not only had it survived the initial impact, but it had punched through the Forerunner ship's shields and armor, and then somehow stayed intat till it hit the pillar, at which point it only lost the blades, and not much else.

The second most startling thing, however, was probably the most disturbing.

In the various cells surrounding him, lay skeletons. The insides of each cell however, seemed almost entirely covered with blood – some to the point where it formed a pool nearly an inch thick. He recognized the skeletons as having belonged to Covenant grunts, elites and maybe even hunters. But what could have done this. Not even Brutes were that...brutal, so to speak. Not even they would resort to such a thing. It was almost as if the muscles and flesh of the victims had spontaneously liquified, leaving behind only the hardened skeleton.

Then, all of a sudden, a wave of static blasted through his radio. Turning it down didn't help as the Master Chief looked on. Despite turning the volume all the way down to zero, the static remained on his channel.

Then the Master Chief saw it. What it was, was a human leg, sticking out from the rubble of the helicopter. Rushing to it, the master chief knelt down beside it, placing the carbine to one side. He started digging through the rubble that had fallen on the pilot, attempting to clear as much as possible.

Eventually, after a few seconds, he was able to clear out enough to see the person's face. It was definitely a male, but the face was covered amost entirely by a gas mask. The uniform was that of no known special operations or UNSC force the Master Chief knew.

Revealing more of the person also revealed the extent of the injuries. He realized with a fair bit of grimness, that the person wasnt going to survive for more than a half hour longer, and would probably remain unconcious.

[Singh]

However, his hypothesis was proven wrong, when, in the next moment, the person immediately gasped for air, opening both eyes. He looked up at the Master Chief and wheezed.

Then, all of a sudden, faster than even the Master Chief himself could percieve,the man grabbed his head and brought it down closer to his face. The Master Chief was about to react when the man finally spoke, wheezing during the sentences as he did so..

“You have to stop her...please....I beg of you, stop her before it's too late!'

This caught the Master Chief off guard. Rather than resisting the grip, however, the Master Chief instead asked.

“Stop who? Who are you? Where are you from? What are you doing abo-”

“NO TIME! Just stop her! Alma....she can't get loose onto the rest of the planet. Otherwise everyone's dead. She'll kill everyone! And she wont stop for any other soul!”

The Master Chief was about to say something when another burst of static came through the speaker, following shortly by the low giggle of a young girl.

His head snapped up, looking around for the source. He had definitely heard that, for sure. Or had he?

Looking back down at the person, he saw through the man's visors that his eyes were wide, with shock, awe and terror.

“My God, she's here! Alma's here!” He screamed as the Master Chief, pushing him away and reaching for a weapon.

“Run! Run! Run! Run! RUN! RUN! RUN!” he kept screaming at the Master Chief,  repeating the same word over and over again.

The giggle came again, followed by a short laugh. This time, however, it was just behind him.

Whirling around, he looked for a sign of threat – only to find her.

She was a small child; barely perhaps 8 or 9, with long, black hair that covered most of her face and upper body. She was wearing a short white skirt that gave her an almost creepy aura.

She whispered, slowly, softly at the master chief. Even though it was barely a whisper, it still reverberated far louder than the screams of the person next to him.

“I know who you are.” the little girl whispered, before reaching out to touch him.

That single touch, that single moment of contact was so powerfull, it dented the chest plate of the Mjnolnir armor, and drove him back several dozen feet, to smash into the wall. He barely survived the impact, however judging from the insanse pain in his gut, the girl had probably broken a rib or two. Still, the master chief got up, looking for the girl again, and this time getting ready to follow the advice of now-silent stranger.

A second later, however, he noticed as a blackness began to form around him. It appeared to be a vortex of sorts; one that was around half his torso's size. However, it began to grow rapidly, and then duplicate itself to cover him almost entirely.The last thing the master chief felt was a massive punch to the stomach, before the world went black around him.

[Jetmech Jr.]

This is great. Keep up the great work!

[Deepblue]

Interesting.

There are some qualms however.

Master Chief Petty Officer is overused. It would help to replace many of them with "John" or "Spartan 117."

“Stop who? Who are you? Where are you from? What are you doing abo-”
This is not in character for Spartan 117, his manner is brisque and to the point.

"Thinking about space, the Master chief shuddered. He remembered the comrades he had lost at Reach; some of them ending up floating helplessly in space. Pushing the thoughts aside, however, he continued to look. "
He's jittery in space, but not because of this. It's because he's not a very valuable asset without his feet on the ground.

[Singh]

Noted and edited in my master version. I'll update the previous one soon.

In any case, more is done. And I say again bloody murder! Can someone PLEASE increase the character limit for this sub-forum, if at all possible? I hate splitting up long fiction into two posts

***

Sadhal huddled up in the cell as best as he could, trying to stay comfortable. He glanced past the forcefield at the Brutes standing guard. They ignored him, for the most part, and continued to just laze around the prison block.

Traitors...all traitors.

He thought, Looking back at the wall. Sadhal considered how he had gotten here, and of the prohpet himself.

He had been one of the chosen few that were originally meant to guard the forerunner ship. The recent changing of the gaurds to the Brutes had, surprisingly, not reached the ship yet, despite having have taken place everywhere else in High Charity. This was probably because he was meant to guard the engine room, and operate the equipment – something which the Brutes were not completely competent at.

And yet, the Prophet had ordered the Brutes to take over, and to lock Sadhal up for now. He did not know...should he be thankfull for good luck? Or, considering what the Brutes were capable of....was he really unlucky?

In either case, he was an Elite, the arm of the prophets. Even though the Prophets had betrayed him, betrayed them, they would still fight. He had to fight. For the sake of his brothers, for the sake of the fallen.

The Prophets had betrayed him...betrayed all the Elites. Vengeance would be theirs, that much was for sure. If not now...

No....Sadhal looked back up at the Brutes...he would bide his time and wait. Eventually, one of them would slip and something would happen. He would wait for that moment...that oppurunity...and then he would strike.

The ship shook suddenly, forcing him to grab the sides to balance out and prevent from hitting the floor. Looking out, he saw some of the Brutes had fallen down. Their comrades quickly moved to help them back up. Something had hit the ship, from the looks of it.

Sadhal continued to watch the Brutes as they got agitated. A few of them checked their radios and communicated with command personnel elsewhere.

And then the sirens began to ring.

Sadhal looked up. He recognized the sirens – an intruder alert. But who could have boarded the ship? There was virtually no way to know from in here. Still, he watched and waited.

The Brutes began to run for the weapons' racks, grabbing their red plasma rifles and the brute shots.

Then the ship shook again, but this time only slightly. Sadhal wondered what was going on. Could the prophet's insane plan have backfired, and the humans were actually managing to stop them? Perhaps...in either case, he watched as the Brutes looked around nervously. Around half of them went towards the door, obviously headed out to intercept the intruder.

In the events that followed, the first thing Sadhal felt – or rather heard, was a very, very strange sound.

It was definitely human, that was for sure. But it....it was so odd. It was somewhat high pitched, much more than an Adult's normally would be. From what he remembered of the Human's culture and society, it sounded like a child, a female child's. But what was a female human child doing onboard a forerunner ship?

He watched as the Brutes walked towards the doors, all of them looking around quite nervously. Apperantly they heard the sound too. As they approached the doors, however, it slid open before they got anywhere close to it.

And then he saw her.

She was a small girl, around the same hieght as a Jackal. She was dressed in a single white gown, that had smudges of red blood on it. Her hair obscured most of her face, and hung all the way down to her shoulders.

The Brutes reacted almost immediately. With a loud roar, they raised their rifles and opened fire at the girl.Visibly, she didn't move, didn't appear to speak anything. But still, everyone could feel her voice as she giggled again. Before the first plasma bolt even touched her, her body fell into ashes, disappearing almost completely.

The Brutes were confused, looking back and forth and making sweeps of the area, searching for the little girl. Sadhal got off the floor and stood, watching them.

Another laugh – and this time the girl reappeared.

That...that's impossible he thought to himself, as the girl appeared and crossed from one end of the cell complex to the other within the blink of an eye. She was definitely walking, but walking so fast that he had missed it almost completely.

What was more horrifying, however, was what happened to the Brutes.

Black vortexes began to appear around one of the Brutes, who promtpy began to scream in pain. These vorticies duplicated rapidly till they surrounded the Brute almost completely. Even more began to appear and surrounded the rest of the brutes near the door. The ones that had stood guard near his cell ran forward to help.

Another laugh, and Sadhal saw her again. He took a step back as more vortexes appeared; this time closer to him and the Brutes outside the cell. Now that they were closer, he could hear them....the screams. Ones of pain, of denial...of rage. They reverberated through the walls and the air, and in a sense, through his very soul.

From the Vortexes, several things appeared. They were vaguely humanoid in shape, but had no lower body. They flew through the air, emitting that same loud scream. They flew till they hit the Brutes, completely passing through them. The Brutes had no chance to react. They immediately screamed out in pain and fell over, dead. There had been no struggle, no chance to fire weapons.

Once they fell, however, Sadhal got a full view of the scene just beyond them.

He had seen many a thing in his lifetime, and even had the horror of witnessing firsthand what the Flood did to Covenant flesh. But this....this surpassed that in terms of sheer horror and disgust by far.

Where the Brutes near the door had been, their was only...blood. Blood and skeletons. The blood was all over the floor and the walls – there was so much that it almost seemed like their flesh had turned to liquid, and then exploded in an area around them. It was disgusting to the core, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for the Brutes.

Then the laughter came again. He blinked.

And then she was in front of the forcefield.

The little girl was in front of the forcefield. Not less than three meters from him. Slowly, Sadhal backed away from here. If she had been responsible for all this...

Then he began to back away a bit faster.

She whispered, slowly. He couldn't see her lips move, yet a voice uttered out from them.

“I can feel you....yet...I cannot touch you.”

As if to illustrate her point, she reached forwards, and hesitantly touched the forcefield.

What happened next completely surprised Sadhal. The moment she touched the forcefield, she screamed.

Her scream was so loud and so powerful, it physically drove Sadhal back into the wall, forcing him to bring his hands to his head in an attempt to block it. She continued to scream and scream and scream to no end. He could feel a pressure begin to build up as she continued. The pain in his ears were undescribable, building up almost at the same rate as the girl's.

It continued to build up till his head felt like it would explode from the pressure.

And then it stopped.

Sadhal opened his eyes, only to find the little girl gone.

So was the force field, however.

Looking left and right, he trepidly stepped forwards, unsure of what to do.

Who was that girl? How had she done what she did to the Brutes?

Questions filled his mind. The most pressing of which was was she going to return?

In either case, he needed to get moving. Staying here would not be a wise idea at all, especially if she returned.

He activated the armor's shield (thankfully they hadn't removed that) and then stepped out of the cell. Not hesitating one bit, he grabbed one of the dead Brute's plasma rifles.

Carefully stepping towards and then around the blood spattered area near the door, he ran out, not giving a single glance back.

At first, he was unsure where to go. He looked left and right, only to find the corridor empty. To his right were two more skeletons, similarly liquified like the Brutes inside.

Sadhal realized he was going to need help, whereever he went. The forerunner ship had another containment complex for prisoners. And if he recalled correctly, there were several other grunts and elite gaurds that had been on the ship when the Brutes came. They would have been held in the other complex as opposed to this one.

Turning down to his left, Sadhal ran as fast as he could. Whatever the forcefield had done to the girl, it may just have been a temporary setback, meaning she could come back at any moment. He did not want to stay in one place to let her catch him, however.

Running through the corridors, he heard it again.

The laughter was softer this time. Coming from behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, Sadhal only increased the pace as he saw the little girl walk perpendicular through the intersection he had just come through, before disappearing into ashes again.

From the direction she was going, she would head up to the bridge of the ship. Good...as long as he got as far away from him as possible, he couldn't care less.

He was approaching the cell complex now. Then, as he turned the corridor, he screeched to a halt.

Three dead jackals lay in the corridor just ahead of him. He had seen a lot of bodies along the way here, so it should not be surprising. However, what was interesting was how these Jackals had died.

One had it's face smashed inwards by a somewhat large and significant force. Another  had it's neck snapped, killing it instantly. The third however, had been shot clearly by a human weapon.

Humans...here? he thought to himself. It would explain how the Girl got here. But these jackals had not died by her hand. It meant that someone else was here and had already boarded the craft.

Stepping over the bodies, he looked out the window next to them.

Their was a storm outside the window; one that seemed unnatural...eerie, in a sense. It stayed with the ship, making it look as if it was stationary. Sadhal knew the truth however, was that the ship had to be moving. But yet, the storm kept up with them. How was that even possible?

There was definitely something odd going on here.

Wasting no time, he ran down the corridor and followed signs to the cell blocks. He came up to the intersection leading to it, and turned into the corridor outside the block.

Outside the cell block itself, he found two Brutes that had been killed in a similar fashion – except this time by Plasma weapons. They were outside the doors -  gaurds obviously. He walked down the corridor slowly, wielding the rifle ahead of him. When he reached the bodies, he squatted down, examining the marks. Both had been killed only recently, and had been sniped, possibly from the corridor from which he had turned in.

He looked up at the Cell doors themselves. Listening carefully, he could hear a low howling coming in from behind the doors. Getting up, he approached them. They opened, revealing the room beyond.

The howl immediately picked up in intensity and volume. He saw that it came from a massive hole in the wall to the other end of the cell block, where the storm was clearly visible. A force field kept the air in, but however it didn't soundproof it either. The howl of the storm, along with the occasional rumble of thunder came through at full intensity.

Then he noticed the massive object that had collided in the central column. It looked like no terran object he'd seen before. It had crashed into the pillar and caused significant damage to the power systems, cutting off the forcefields to the various cells. Looking into the cells however, brought only despair. All but one of the cells held bodies. Bodies that had been liquified just like the Brutes in the other complex.

It was obvious, that the Girl had come from here – from this object. But how had she survive the crash? How had she managed to make it out? Indeed, why had she killed the prisoners in one way, and yet left the Brutes and the Jackals the way she had?

Turning to his left, his answer soon became visible, shocking him to the core.

Sadhal simply stared at it in shock.

[Singh]

Or rather, him.

Buried almost half a meter in the wall to his extreme left, Sadhal saw the last person he was expecting on this ship, indeed, the last person anywhere near such a holy relic. He nearly dropped his rifle in surprise, but quickly recovered, raising it.

Covered with dust, the blue coolants that had spilled over his suit glimmered off the shields that covered the olive-green armor. The Visor, although cracked, obscured his face to the Covenant elite, much like it had to the countless number he had killed. However, it was the armor that the person wore that identified him to the Covenant, that gave him the name, 'Demon'.

The Demon was here.

The Demon was right in front of him.

What horrified Sadhal most, however, was that the Demon was dead – or at least, looked like it. What force; indeed, what individual could have been so powerfull as to kill him? The Demon alone had managed to destroy one of the holy rings, as well as one of the Prophets. Yet, this warrior had been fallen. But by whom?

A sickening thought came across Sadhal's mind.

The girl... Could it have been her? But why would she kill members of her own species? And if she was capable of taking the demon out....did he even stand a chance?

Sadhal noticed the beam rifle laying near the body.

Taking a step forward, Sadhal kept his weapon up. He would need the rifle, and it was best to at least check and ensure he was dead.

He stepped closer to the Demon, unsure what exactly to do. The Beam rifle was on the other side. Carefully, cautiously, he pointed the rifle at the Demon's head, ready to fire at the moment he moved. But the Demon remained still, his limbs limp. It was now that Sadhal noticed a significant dent in the chest plate. Whatever had hit him had done so with great force, possibly killing him.There were cracks all over the armor, as well as burn marks everywhere. It was quite obvious the Demon had just come from extensive combat.

The shield shimmered as the coolant continued to drop on the Demon, still remaining active. It was a miracle it was still working considering the incredible punishment the armor had taken. But then, knowing what the Demon had done and how he had done it, Sadhal wasn't really surprised.

He glanced at the Beam rifle, and then stretched over the body to reach it. He stole another glance at the Demon to check whether or not he was moving before looking back at the rifle...

...only to find himself staring right down the length of the barrel.

“Don't move.”

The demon spoke out from next to him, his voice low, yet strained.

Sadhal was about to say something when the Demon coughed, and then dropped the rifle suddenly. His hand went limp and his body visibly stiffened in pain.

Sadhal simply took a step back and looked at the Demon, the plans of the getting the rifle out of his head. Instead, he simply raised the plasma rifle and prepared to fire.

The Demon, for his part, simply looked at Sadhal for a second, before he gave a slow nod and asked.

“You saw her...didn't you?”

The question....Sadhal looked at the Demon in surprise. He was unsure what to reply at this point. The Demon – he should just simply kill him here and now, ending a major problem for the Covenant. It was because of the Demon, that the prophet had died, that the elites had been removed. It was all because of him! And yet....yet what he had said about the little girl....

“Yes....who is she? What is she?” Sadhal asked, softly.

The Demon only turned his head to look at the wreckage. He raised his left hand slightly, pointing to it. Before whispering softly.

“Her name is Alma...He knows what she is....”

Sadhal looked at where the Demon was pointing in the wreckage. He could make out a body there; one dressed in grey and white and some unknown type of uniform that he hadn't seen before. The person was half-buried under the debris, but his eyes were not visible through the mask he was wearing, not allowing it to be clear whether he was alive or dead.

“Help him...he can stop her....”

With that, the Demon's head turned back to Sadhal. He didn't move. Rather than argue the point, Sadhal simply lowered his weapon and slowly walked towards the wreckage.

Why was he helping the Demon? Why couldn't he simply kill him right then and there itself? He had absolutely no reason to help him here. Yet...he was doing it. Yet, he had not killed the Demon. And yet, he was now going to help another Terran.

He thought to himself. It was because he no longer had a reason to kill the Demon. The Prophets had led them along this journey all along, and had betrayed them at the end. The Elites had been at their side for so long, only to be cast away in favour of the Brutes...and then, all of them had been murdered in cold blood.

All the other Elites could only think of the Terrans as an enemy. But he had had time in his cell...time to think, to contemplate. The Terrans were the enemy, but now so were the Prophets. Sadhal remembered an expression thought to him by his commanders. One that had rung quite true when it came to internal politics and the like. 'The enemy of my Enemy is my friend, if only temporarily.'

The humans were determined to stop the Prophets. Maybe...just maybe, this was the oppurnity that he had been waiting for. The chance for revenge that he so desperately desired.

And then, there was that little girl.

That little girl had killed everyone.

That little girl, if let loose. Would kill everyone. But then...did Sadhal actually care anymore about such things?

Then he remembered the Brutes, and how they died. He quitely shuddered at the memory. No...nobody deserved to die like that.

But still, he had his questions. And unless he could find answers soon, he would have to deal with these humans one way or the other.

When Sadhal got to the rubble, he began to clear out the debris surrounding the human and then pulled him out. The human was unconcious, but still breathing, judging from the sound on the respirator.

Draping the man on one shoulder, he carried him back to the Demon and placed him alongside. Turning to the Demon, he spoke, asking him the question that had been burning in his mind till now.

“What are you doing here, Demon? How did you get onboard?”

The Demon, who had been looking at the door till now, simply looked up and stared at Sadhal.

Getting fustrated, Sadhal spoke louder, taking a step forward and raising his rifle, pointing it at the Demon.

“Answer me now, Demon, with the truth. If you want my help against this...Alma.”

The Demon considered this for a moment and then slowly nodded.

“I Followed the Prophet from High Charity so that I could kill him before he activated Halo.”

Straight to the point and the utter truth.

Sadhal only nodded in reply and lowered the weapon. He replied

“That is all I need to know.”

The lights suddenly flickered around them. Sadhal took a step back, alarmed. He raised his rifle.

Then something grabbed his leg, pulling him down. Looking down, he was shocked to see the human he had just removed from the Debris had grabbed it.

His grip was vice-like, and Sadhal was unable to shake it. The human simply looked up at him and whispered.

“She's coming....”

The lights flickered again. And to his shock and horror, Sadhal heard a soft, high-pitched laugh of a little girl behind him.

[Ghost]

Jesus ****, I like this. It's unnerving. I'm not the biggest fan of Halo, but I loved Fear. Keep it coming. Also, wasn't Alma's skirt red?

[Singh]

Somebody's getting pwned

”Move!”[/i]

Sadhal’s reflexes took over immediately, responding to the command and leaping to the side almost instantly.

He was just in time as a purple beam of light streaked forth in the place he was occupying a few thousands of a second ago. It struck something behind him, however, giving off a flash of heat. The laughter he had heard just a minute ago vanished, leaving only silence in the air. He smelt burnt ashes, coming from somewhere behind him.

Rolling and coming back up, he looked around, rifle at the ready. This girl…this Alma…they would need some sort of protection from her. But how? She apparently had the ability to go anywhere she wished and kill from a distance. What could possibly stop her?

Then Sadhal remembered the force field in the other cell block. It had held her off – if at least for a little while. He had noticed a cell block still operational earlier. If they could get inside and activate the force field, it could just work here.

His thoughts were interrupted however, as several black vortices began to form on his right side near the door. He could hear several screams coming from them as the humanoid forms he had seen before began to emerge.

The first one streaked across space, towards him – coming in too fast for him to react in time.

When it was just a meter away from him however, Sadhal heard a loud explosion from somewhere behind him and the thing vaporized almost completely. Glancing back, he saw the uniformed human holding a smoking pistol in hand.

The Human’s reflexes had to be amazing to get that shot off – better than any covenant Elite’s, in fact. The fact that he hit as well was quite amazing. Still, he had to press on. Turning back, he shouted “Cover me!” before running towards a nearby control panel.

To his right, more vortices formed and more figures started to come out from them. By this time, the lights above them were flickering at a constant rate, casting the entire cell block into moments of near-pitch black and then light, making it appear as though the figure were moving in slow motion. The only lights came from the gunfire behind him, and the storm outside.

Both the Demon and the human opened fire at the vortices; taking out the beings before they could get near to Sadhal. He covered the distance to the control panel within three seconds. Taking a quick glance at the cell blocks, he saw that the crash had destroyed the controls for most of the cell’s projectors – with exception of the empty cell.

Then the panel flickered on and off, and a Vortex opened to his immediate right. There was no time to react as immediately, a form came out and hit him dead on the side. It pushed him a distance, but Sadhal hanged onto the control panel. The shields flared to life, blocking the creature from going through. It simply vaporized to ashes, leaving him mostly intact. He looked at where the Vortex was and blinked. He should have been dead by now, judging from what had happened to the Brutes.

Could it be the shields had saved them till now? It could be entirely possible. After all, only the elites were the ones who used them. The Brutes realized on their in-bred toughness, while the Grunts and Jackals their superior numbers. Perhaps their failing would now be Sadhal’s advantage. However, from what the impact had felt, the shields had been knocked down a fair bit. He could survive a hit or two, but after that he would be at the mercy of the beings.

Quickly catching his balance, he continued to work at the controls, setting the force field timer to activate for one minute, and then to deactivate after thirty minutes. It should buy them some time.

Turning around, he saw that the vortices were no longer focusing on him, but rather on the Demon and the other Human now. Both were firing at the beings, whom were now pouring out non-stop. The Demon wielded had abandoned the beam rifle – it’s charge long since empty, and instead had switched to using a plasma pistol and brute plasma rifle combination.

The other human, for his part, continued to shoot with the pistol, stopping every few seconds to reload. But not one of the beings seemed to target him – those that made it past all flew over, going straight for the Demon.

Sadhal didn’t need to be told anything, and started to fire from his end of the room instead. The high pitch noise and plasma weapons and pistols filled the air in the block.

He ran towards them, firing all the way. Their seemed to be no end in sight to the Vortices, and the high-pitched scream as they emitted the beings simply got louder every second. His shields managed to recharge along the way, which was good. He stopped shooting so that the others would hear him as he pointed at the Cell and shouted.

“In the cell! Get in there now!”

The Demon didn’t look at him, but slowly began to get up. He visibly stiffened in pain as he did so, but for the most part, within two seconds he was able to stagger to his feet and was firing upon the beings once more.

Sadhal, for his part, simply lept forwards and underneath the Demon’s plasma cannon fire, coming up next to the other human that had lain there. The Human tried to get up, but was unable to. Sadhal grabbed him and tossed him over his shoulder, ignoring the cry of pain the human uttered as he did so.

He then ran as fast as he could towards the cell, with the Demon in close pursuit. They both dived into the cell nearly a second later, followed by several beings. However, the cell force field came up just before they were able to enter, cutting them off as they rammed into it, evaporating nearly instantly. Sadhal dropped the Human at the end of the cell, and then turned around to face the containment field. The Demon was already facing it, pointing his weapons at it, just in case any came through.

And then the flickering outside intensified…and the force field went off.

Much to both parties chargin, both Sadhal and the Demon cursed at the same time. It had been a good plan, but now they were stuck here with virtually no means of defense.

Then it flickered back on again. And then off. And then on again. This time, however, it stayed on for the most part. Both parties kept their weapons at bay and waited. The Vortices stopped spawning outside the force field and the high-pitched scream disappeared, leaving only the loud howl of the storm outside.

The flickering of the lights stopped, and they came on at full strength. They could now see the amount of damage they had done to the room. The walls and ceilings near the door were almost completely covered in burn marks from the plasma, and some sections of the outer wall had melted away exposing the electronics behind.

The smell of burnt metal was ripe in the air, approaching choking levels. From the looks of it, they would not be able to stay here much longer.

“Do you think she’s gone?” Sadhal asked, not taking his eyes off the force field.

“Perhaps.” The Demon replied, but nonetheless, he didn’t lower his weapon.

“What were those?”

“Unsure. Shields can stop one or two, armor is useless.” The Demon only shook his head.

He continued, stopping to take a breath.

“Will the force field stop her?”

Sadhal nodded, he lowered his weapon a bit, but kept it ready, just in case. The Demon followed suit, but neither took their eyes off the force field.

“She tried to attack me in the other cell block, but the force field apparently stopped her. It seemed to have caused her pain, which drove her away.”

The lights outside flickered again and the entire ship shook slightly. From outside, they could hear the rumble of thunder from the storm outside. Both men raised their weapons again, ready for anything.

“You were a prisoner?” the Demon asked, not missing a beat.

Sadhal paused, unsure what exactly to say to the Demon. Instinct compelled him not to give out information to this human; as was protocol.

But these circumstances were far from protocol, and after how the prophets had betrayed them….He shook his head and replied, sadly.

“I was on the ship’s engineering section when the Brutes came to take over. The Prophet ordered me to be imprisoned for the time being.”

“Where would the Prophet be?” The Demon asked.

“Assuming Alma hasn’t killed her, yes.” Sadhal looked at the Demon suspiciously.

“Why do you ask?”

“I have to finish my mission.” The Demon replied, simply.

“And what would that be?”

“To kill him before he activates Halo.”

Sadhal stepped back a bit at this.

“Activate the sacred rings? From here? How is that even possible?”

The lights flickered once more outside the cell, drawing their attention.

The Demon simply glanced back at him before replying.

“Not from here. The ark. If he activates the ring, everyone dies.”

Sadhal frowned at this. How could that be possible? From the beginning of the Covenant, the holy text had guided them and the prophets, driving them on with the promise of the great journey. How could that all be a lie? He simply could not believe it!

“But the great journey – “ Sadhal started, only to be cut off by the Demon as he spoke.

“- Is a lie. The Forerunners used it to destroy all source of food for the flood, inclusive of all Sentient life. Activate it, and everyone in the galaxy dies.”

Sadhal simply stared at the Demon, who didn’t look back. How could that be true? The texts? The prophets? Had they been lied to for centuries?

“But the prophets…the texts...” Sadhal muttered, unsure what to say.

”The Prophets have betrayed you. A Civil war is raging on high charity now between the Brutes and the Elites.”

A Civil war? Sadhal thought, attempting to grasp the entire thing. The Council would never order a civil war, especially not against the Covenant….at least, not unless…could the Council have been murdered?

The thought came by so fast, Sadhal nearly staggered at it’s implications, and of how deep this treachery really went.
 
“Those traitors…” he muttered to himself. The prophets would pay.

Suddenly, the lights shut down, plunging them into darkness and shutting down the forcefield. Both visibly tensed, raising their weapons and getting ready for anything. The Demon turned on a flashlight built into the helmet, lighting up the area ahead of them. Sadhal could make out the edge of a vortex to the side, but then it immediately vanished. One of the humanoid beings appeared and turned the corner, but immediately evaporated as both fired their weapons at it.

“Later. We have other concerns now.” The Demon interrupted him. Sadhal only nodded. This was not good.

A full three seconds later, the lights came back on, along with the force field. Other than that one, no other of the beings appeared. Sadhal breathed a sigh of relief.

“Who is this Alma? What is she?” He asked again, not taking his eyes off the force field.
 
The Demon shrugged, only nodding his head to the person behind them. “He knows. It’s about time we asked him about it, though.”

Sadhal nodded.

Much to the chargin of both men again, they turned in unison to face the unknown human. The first thing they noticed, however, was not the way the human was simply starting at them, his expression indiscernible through the gas mask. Neither was it the way he was limply seated, leaning back against the wall, both arms flayed to the side and limp.

They first thing they saw was none of that. The first thing they saw was the little girl that was standing behind them; dressed in a short white skirt which had several red smudges on it.

And then, the lights flickered again, and went dark.

[Singh]

I didn't know the skirt was red. Always thought it was white...damnit, knew I should've payed proper attention.

I'll edit the changes in when I get back home. :/

[Ghost]

I didn't know the skirt was red. Always thought it was white...damnit, knew I should've payed proper attention.

I'll edit the changes in when I get back home. :/

Heh, it's okay. Anyway... Kudos again on a good chapter. I really hate that little girl; she gave me a bunch of **** while I was playing that game.

[Singh]

*****

A bright flash and loud explosion broke the silence and the darkness, lighting up the cell for a brief second, illuminating the human that had sat there. It came from the pistol in his hand, and in the small cell, it forced the noise filters to come on inside John’s helmet.

Time slowed down for John as he saw the girl slowly evaporate again into thin air, her ashes falling to the ground, much like petals in the wind, and then disappearing before they touched it.

Then he saw the bullet fly through where she had been standing. It flew through the air, and continued on its course, uninterrupted. John followed it as it streaked by, and then ricocheted out towards the exit.

And then the lights came back on, along with the force field. He watched as it bounced off the field, coming back at an exact one-eighty degree angle. John could only watch and couldn’t move in time to stop it. The entire thing – the bullet’s speed, the reaction time – all of it, it just felt wrong in so many ways it was nerve-wracking.

And then there was the pain. The pain in his stomach, chest and back was so intense; John was amazed he was still alive, much less standing. He had already checked the vital signs and medical reports on the HUD, but pushed it aside. It was good luck, and now he had to use it.

The bullet moved back in the same path it had come, all the way back to the soldier that was laying there. Time then sped back up to normal speed, as if the encounter was over.

The bullet hit the soldier in his arm, right above the shoulder, forcing out a cry of pain as it did. The armor in the area had been tattered, badly damaged and did absolutely nothing to stop the bullet from penetrating through.

Reacting quickly, John moved towards the soldier, nodding at the Elite to cover him while he did so. He didn’t say anything, but rather went down on one knee, ignoring as best as he could the burst of pain that erupted throughout his lower back.

Examining the bullet wound, the Master Chief immediately went to work. He removed the armor around the area, and then tore off some of the soldier’s uniform and then tied the piece around the wound, using it as a tourniquet to cut off the blood flow. But it didn’t work. The blood continued to flow out of the wound, snaking around the soldier’s arms and pooling up on the floor and smearing his armor. For his part, the soldier was either unconscious, or held the pain as he didn’t respond at all.

“How is he?” The Elite asked from behind him.

Looking at the wound, John attempted to see where the bullet had gone. He saw it had managed to penetrate significantly, hitting an artery. At this rate of bleeding, the soldier would be dead within minutes.

It began to subside slightly a second later, however, as the tourniquet began to have some effect.

“Not good.”

John glanced at the Soldier. He still couldn’t be sure if the soldier was conscious or not. In either case, he had to be in great pain right now. Unfortunately, it was only going to get worse.

“Brace yourself.” He said to the soldier before looking back at the wound itself.

Making it as quick as possible, John put his fingers in and then pulled out the bullet.

Surprisingly, the soldier didn’t react at all. Either he was unconscious completely, or he was dead. John seriously hoped for the former. At least then they had a chance of reviving him.

Holding the bullet in one hand, he examined it. The caliber was far, far different than any UNSC bullet in use. Glancing at the pistol, he realized that the pistol wasn’t anything they used as well. It seemed old, too old. For the second time, John pondered for a second: where had this soldier come from?

Then the second thought crept into his mind…the aircraft they had come on. Could it be possible the question was not where…but when?

Pushing the thought aside for now, John noticed that the blood flow was cutting out. He quickly tore off some more pieces of cloth from the uniform, and then tied it around the wound. Hopefully, he should survive this engagement. But it was doubtful, to say the least. They needed a proper med bay or medical facilities and a doctor to make sure.

“Don’t bother too much tying it…” The soldier spoke up, softly. John looked at him in surprise. Had he really been conscious? How was that even possible?

Still, he didn’t question it. Rather, he turned around to the Elite that was standing guard.

“How far is the nearest  medical facility from here?” John asked.

The Elite didn’t turn back as he replied.

“Two decks down, and across the ship. We can make it there within a few minutes if we skip the lifts and use the ladders.”

John nodded and looked back at the soldier. The soldier, didn’t look back however, instead staring only at the Elite.

“Who….are you? What is he?” he asked, gasping for breath.

Those two questions simply confirmed John’s earlier thoughts. However, the possibilities that came with it disturbed him greatly. If it was true, then it meant that the UNSC was in far, far greater trouble than previously expected.

“I should be asking you the same question.” John paused, and then continued. “What was the date last time you checked?”

The soldier simply looked up at him blankly. His breathing heavy, he didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Finally, though, he asked, more than replied.

“Time travel?”

It was simple and yet, told so much more. Then he simply shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter…I don’t have long. Alma….she must be responsible for this.”

Again, Alma. John interrupted him before he could go on.

“Hold on. Start from the beginning.”

The soldier simply nodded and spoke.

“I am part of a special operations team working for the United States Army, twenty-first century, assuming the time-frame to here is correct. The unit was called First Encounter Assault Recon – FEAR for short. We were sent to apprehend a suspect and neutralize an army of cloned soldiers. Unfortunately, the suspect’s main intention was to find and release Alma.”

The soldier paused…as if unsure what to say next.

“Alma….she was a very powerful psychic. A corporation headed by her father used her in an attempt to create a psychic commander. She was taken to a vault, where she was inseminated with an embryo, which was then allowed to gestate long enough to develop and acquire her latent powers. After the second prototype was created, they shut down the project and sealed the vault.”

“What happened to Alma?” John asked. This story was fine and good, but they needed to get to the point.

The soldier looked away.

“She was locked in the vault when the life support was shut down…..the records said she died eight days later.”

John stood up and took a step back in shock, suddenly realizing the full extent of what had happened, and of what was happening now. If Alma had died….how had she come here? How was she capable of such things?

The Soldier continued on, however, not giving him a chance to speak.

“When the vault was opened up again several years later, a synchronisity event occurred, and she somehow managed to gain control of the second prototype before they locked it again. The suspect then headed back to her, in an attempt to open up the vault. But in the end, her father opened it…she was going to escape, but the Vault was destroyed. I managed to escape the vault onboard a helicopter…and then…she appeared, and this freak storm hit us. A second later, before she could kill anyone, we hit something….I think you know the story after that.”

The soldier looked back at John.

“She’s died so long ago…but the rage…the anger, the horror…of what happened…she cant forget it…she wont...and now she wants to kill everyone for it. Theirs no way we can stop her…”

John didn’t reply, but when the Soldier did not go on, he spoke up.

“You said the second prototype ‘synchronized’ with her…what about the first? Could he or she help us?”

The soldier didn’t reply, and instead looked away.

Suspicion began to creep up in John’s mind. This soldier wasn’t telling him something. Rather than waste time, he asked him straight to his face.

“It’s you…isn’t it?”

The soldier didn’t look back, but instead replied.

“What’s the first thing you remember? Is it your childhood…or the words being said as you were born…”

His tone was low, soft and filled with sadness.

“The first thing I remember…were the words uttered by Alma’s father. ‘You will be a God amongst men.’…and her screams, as she asked for her baby back…and after that….nothing.”

He finally looked back at John. And although the mask covered his face, John could feel the sadness behind those eyes, and in the tone as he spoke.

“I cannot remember my life….my journey…even though I know it was there…her thoughts…her tragedy…I can feel her mind…I can feel as she asks, as she struggles to feel mine. But she can’t…she never will….”

John just shook his head. This changed everything. With this soldier, they might have a chance against Alma…but they needed to get him to help fast.

The lights began to flicker once again, and glancing back, John saw that the force field was flickering as well. He saw the Elite had been listening in as well. But he had said nothing as of yet.

“We should get moving.” The Elite spoke, nodding towards the force field. John nodded back and turned to the soldier.

“My back’s gone – I cant walk. You must leave me.” The solder spoke, cocking the pistol and then pushing himself up with the good arm.

John shook his head.

“No – we’ll need you to help again –“

“You don’t get it, do you?” the soldier interrupted him, mid-sentence.

“She’s coming…she’s coming for me. I can feel her…if I go with you, she will follow, and then you will all die. Everyone will die.”

He swallowed, wheezing a bit. John just looked at him, unsure what to ask. Finally, he spoke after a few minutes.

“How do we stop her?”

The soldier sadly shook his head.

“We can’t stop her….”

He paused, looking outside the cell door. Then he looked to the left, in the direction of the helicopter, and the storm outside.

“….but it can.”

“And what, human, is it?” The Elite asked from behind John, obviously as curious as him about the entire affair.

“I don’t know…but I can feel it…it’s here…and it wants what was denied to it…it wants her…” the soldier replied. He was about to go on when the lights began to flicker again and then went out completely, taking the force field with them.

The soldier’s voice became nervous as he continued.

“She’s coming back…leave…leave now, before it’s too late. I’ll keep her occupied long enough for you to go…”

John slowly nodded, and took a painful step back. Every fiber of his being wanted to save the soldier, but the soldier was right, and there was little that could be done of the situation. The soldier had been right in the fact that he would have slowed them down significantly. And then there was the mission, which still needed to be completed.

“Good luck.” John replied softly. The Soldier nodded and gave a short salute.

The Elite did not say anything, instead, he cautiously moved towards the entrance of the cell. The plasma rifle raised, he peeked around the corner and then turned back to John, nodding to indicate it was safe. The Elite then turned to the soldier, and spoke.

“You are very brave to face her alone, human. A sign of a worthy warrior, indeed.”

The soldier didn’t reply, but again, simply nodded.

With that, John picked up the Plasma rifles from the ground and got up. He nodded to the Elite.

“We need a way off this ship.”

The Elite nodded. “There should be a fighter still available in the fighter bay. But we cannot open the exit it from the bay itself. We need to get to the bridge. Follow me.”

The Elite turned and ran out towards the exit. John glanced one last time at the Soldier and then followed suit.

***********

[Singh]

@#$$%!&(% Character limits!

***********

He watched them run off, leaving him alone.

The lights flickered on and off again. But it did not matter, he would wait. She would come for him, and end this.
He wondered, for a second, what the storm was. Watching as the lightning from the storm light up the block outside the cell door, he realized that he could feel it. It was at a corner of his mind, almost invisible...but he could feel the tiny impression it left.  It was just sitting there….watching...waiting…..

And then the lights came back on, bringing up the force field, and the presence was gone, as swiftly as it had come. He closed his eyes, unsure what to do. He couldn’t move, and he could hardly fight. The truth about Alma, about his past…the thoughts, the shock was still reeling through his mind.

Alma… he thought to himself….

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the lights had gone out along with the force field again.

Again, he felt a presence in his mind. But this one….this one seemed different. It didn’t feel like Alma’s. This one…it somehow seemed stronger… than Alma’s – if that was even possible. It tried to wander through his mind, reach into his thoughts, but then, for some reason, it pulled back and disappeared.

But what was it? Could it have been Alma? If it was, she must have grown stronger. But how?

Then he heard it.

It wasn’t much at first – just a low scratching noise, coming from just outside the door. Quickly raising his pistol, he brought it to bear at the entrance, prepared for anything. The scratching noise grew louder, as if something was shuffling about.

A flash of lightning light up the cell block again from the outside. With all the lights off, it temporarily blinded him, causing him to blink. When he opened his eyes, however, he saw it, standing in the entrance, silhouetted against the background of the block.

He had never seen anything like it. It was an organic creature of sorts – small, and around the size of a football. A dull beige color, it seemed to somehow hover over the ground, supporting itself on small, tiny green tentacles, much like a jelly fish. Indeed, the entire primary structure gave it the appearance of a Portuguese man of war.

It just stood there for a second, before it slowly started to move toward him.

And then it exploded as he fired at it with the pistol. Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked down, reloading the pistol and throwing the empty clip to the side.

There was another shuffling noise, attracting his attention again. When he looked up there were two more of the things at the entrance of the cell, and were rapidly moving towards him.

“What the…” he said, before raising the pistol and firing again, taking out both in quick succession. They exploded, spraying droplets of green stuff all over the entrance of the cell.

And then the shuffling sound came again - but this time it was louder. Another of the creatures appeared near the entrance and made a quick dash for him, covering the distance in insane speed.

But he was faster, and the creature exploded not two meters away from him.

More began to appear near the entrance – this time an entire group of them. Not pausing, he shot at the lead one, which exploded, which caused two of the ones next to it to explode as well. But the rest kept coming, keeping up the suicidal charge at him.

He didn’t stop firing, trying his best to take out as many of them as possible. As the bullet hit, each kept exploding, deafening him to an extent. The entire group seem to be getting closer – yet, fortunately, smaller.

They reached barely a meter away when the last one tried to leap at him – only to be destroyed in mid air. Looking at the entrance and breathing heavily, he kept the pistol at the ready, in case more showed up.

And they did….or rather, one did.

It stood at the entrance, in a pool of it’s companions’ blood. It just stood there for a second, as if considering where to go. Then, it started to rapidly move towards him. He aimed the pistol and pulled the trigger.

Click

Looking at the pistol he cursed. What a time to run out of ammunition. There was just one of the things – he bet he could’ve just punched it to death, for heaven’s sake.

Tossing the pistol in the air, he caught it by the barrel and then carefully took aim, waiting for the creature to leap at him.

It closed the gap rapidly, and then when it hit the final meter, he leapt up towards him. Using the moment, he threw the pistol, end over end straight at the creature.

And then he was horrified, as it simply grazed past and went flying through the air and out the cell block.

The thing, continued unfazed…and landed right on his leg.

It bit into the leg, but he couldn’t feel it, and instead saw it grab and dig into the leg. He tried moving the other, but paralyzed as he was, he couldn’t even reach down and hit the damn thing as it was out of arm’s reach.

Then a sharp, searing pain made its way up his back, forcing him to scream out in pain as he felt the same presence he had felt earlier creep into his mind, this time stronger than before. The presence had a voice, this time, however, and it spoke to him, its voice reverberating through his mind far, far louder than the screams did.

Your mind is filled with memories…stories of unimaginable horror and pain;
For you have witnessed the fate of things, from beyond the grave;
…….She haunts your mind and thoughts…..using them as a tool to let loose her hate;
But little does she know…..that we are all but mere tools and toys of fate;

You shall become my vassal…the instrument upon which fate plays its hand;
For the storm has come to claim what it was denied…to complete its great errand;
The fate of many…will soon be torn apart and cast asunder;
But together….we shall stop this storm’s great thunder…..


**********

[Singh]

Small update, and a note. There are elments of this, that will be seen in AJoTF later on, as they both share certain plot elements....

“Bumbling idiots, the lot of you! Can’t you get anything right?!” Prophet Truth exclaimed, as he looked at the Brutes near the control panel.

He was seated in the anti-gravity throne, right in the middle of the bridge, and things were now falling apart around him. The bridge itself was large, around 10 meters wide, and 8 long. Mostly circular, it had a dome-like structure on the top, with a bright white light at its very centre. The bridge itself was split into several sections. The outer ring as such, was the lowest, with two entrances into the bridge on one side, and a massive screen on the other. The floor was soft, and a dark blue. All around the ring here, guards were posted, and several square doors on either side led to the neighboring rooms. The consoles between the doors glowed bright blue in color.

In the middle of this was another ring, which was around two feet higher than the outer one, with some steps leading into it. It was red in color, with several consoles lining it. These glowed red as well, matching the floor quite easily. There were three steps leading up – one on either side, with exception of the screen. This ring was lined by a railing in the gaps between the consoles and stairs.

But in the middle of the entire room, another two feet above the inner ring was the centre most one. It rose towered up above the rest of the bridge, allowing for a full view of all the proceedings. It was here that the Prophet hovered alone in his chair. There were only two steps to his left and right that led up to the platform, while the rest of it was surrounded by a railing. Their once might have been a chair here, but it had since been removed, only to be replaced by a single, circular control panel.
Right now, however, he was more focused on the activity at one of the consoles near the exits, where a group of Brutes had gathered and stood at attention facing him. One of the Brutes, in particular, had a red flag attached to the harness and headdress he wore. This was their squad commander, head of the guard detail that had replaced the Elite’s.

“Where are the guards that were sent to engineering? They should have reported back by now! I demand an answer now, Chieftain, or I shall have your head for this!”

For his part, the Chieftan only bowed and replied quickly.

“Not one of them has reported back, holy prophet. The storm is interfering with all the systems and communications are down since we were hit. Their may be an intruder on board that is capable of nullifying our troops, probably the Demon.”

The Prophet didn’t say a thing, and instead turned around and looked at the screen again. The storm raged on it, constantly turning and shifting every second. How it had managed to keep up with them so far had been up to question. It had been questionable – were they even moving? Unfortunately, that answer seemed to elude them as almost every sensor system had gone out once they had entered the storm.

This damning storm! It raged and churned and boiled, threatening to destroy anything in it’s path – and yet it seemed like they were not the only ones in it. Something had hit them earlier, taking out all the internal sensors, leaving them essentially completely blind, deaf and dumb. Worse still were the power outages that kept hitting the bridge. At least they had backup power available, allowing them to compensate when the power went out.

And now there was the possibility of the Demon on board. This did not bode well for the great journey, not at all. He had to get to the Ark, and find out the truth of all this. But the Demon…he only wished to destroy it. He had killed his bumbling brother, Regret, after the latter had invaded the Demon’s home planet and then gone to the ring.

And now, oddly, Truth was in the same situation. If the Demon was on board, however, it would mean significant trouble.

“Is the force field around the bridge section still online?” He asked, not turning back.

“Yes, yes it is.” The commander replied.

“Excellent. Gather all the soldiers you have on this deck, and prepare to take a hunting party down – find the Intruder and kill him. Leave half a squad of guards behind to protect this place.”

The commander nodded and then kneeled before him.

“I will not fail you, holy one.” He then got up and turned around, heading for the exit.
The Prophet called after him, interrupting their march out.

“Do not return to me without the intruder’s head, or else I shall make sure to have yours.”

The Commander simply nodded and left.

Truth merely looked back at the screen again, and the storm. This was getting incredibly frustrating, to say the least.

He looked down at his console, at the information he had uncovered. The location of the Ark had been found from the Oracle only by his brother, Mercy. The fact, however, that it was on Earth troubled him, and troubled him deeply.

Why had the forerunners left the Ark on such a planet? The way the oracle was reported to have spoken to the humans, addressing them as the ‘Reclaimers’. It worried him deeply. Such a discovery alone was enough to shake the foundation of the Covenant, should the elites have ever found out. So far, the Covenant had gone on in the hope and belief that they were indeed the chosen ones by the gods, the one who would go on the Great journey to salvation, just as the Forerunners did.

But what was the Humans’ role in all of this? The Forerunners apparently knew the humans before they had left, and should the Oracle be believed, they were meant to reclaim the technology. But the Covenant had had the right to do so, and indeed, had done it first.

Questions continued to plague his mind as he searched for the Truth. The answers would most likely lie within the Ark itself. But according to the records they had found, the Ark had been buried in the planet by the Forerunners. They had gotten the co-ordinates by the Forerunners, so getting there had been no problem till they encountered the storm.

Now, they appeared to be stuck, their position unknown and their velocity doubtful, at best.

Truth looked at the information again, this time bringing up the information gathered from the human’s computers. He had checked the location with the data, cross-referencing with the location of cities on the planet.

Apparently, the humans had built some sort of massive structure over where the Ark was supposed to be, and earlier sensor readings had shown massive radiation readings from it all over the spectrum. No human lived their, for it had been a place of disaster, according to their history, not once, but twice, and both times it had been incredibly tragic.

Could this have been fate at play? A mere co-incidence, perchance? Or had it been something far more sinister? In either case, the location made the prophet uncomfortable as he went through the reports and pictures of humans dying of radiation poisoning, and of the devastation of buildings in the area around the incident. It had become a graveyard twice, betraying it’s people each time. Everyone that had come there had died in some way or the other…and now, they were headed there as well.

The humans called it Chernobyl, a place of disaster, bad luck, and nothing but death, where the silence that permeated the air was so powerful, it could kill by itself.

And it was here, that the key to their salvation was held…

or is it the key to our doom? the prophet thought to himself.

In either case, they would soon discover the truth, regardless of what happened.

[Grug]

LoL.

Am loving this story mate. Tis awsome.

[Cobra]

I wonder if the Arbiter and Sgt. Johnson will come into this story?

i love this story, though. nice work.

[achtung]

Singh, why aren't you writing books?

This is excellent stuff!

[Singh]

Sorry for the lack of updates - one should be forthcoming soon.

Be on the lookout for another interesting character coming in the next few parts, though.

And the reason I dont write books is because im nowhere nearly as good, or dedicated enough to do so. Writing books will only be possible for me, should I ever get myself to focus enough to finish AJoTF

[Setekh]

This is good reading. Darn Flood infection forms.

[Singh]

Smallish update, sorry.

John ran down the corridor after the Elite, ignoring the pain that erupted throughout his body. He had been through worse before, and the mission still needed to be completed.

It still mystified him, how such a small girl could do so much damage. What horrors had she actually gone through, that had led to such an outcome? It worried him, what she was capable of. He classified it as a new threat, one that needed to be eliminated before he left the ship. If Alma got off, there was no telling what damage she was capable of doing to Earth. The soldier had mentioned earlier, that there was something here...or someone, that was capable of stopping her. He had to find it.

Ahead of him, the elite turned into the corridor where John had killed the Jackals earlier. Turning into the corridor after him, John nearly ran into the Elite as he stood there.

Looking around him, John raised his rifle, ready to for anything. Looking back to make sure Alma wasn't there, he asked.

“What's wrong?”

The Elite nodded at the corridor in front.

“The Bodies. Their gone.”

Looking past him, John realized the Elite was right. The bodies were no longer there. Only the weapons and shields lay where John had left them.

“Alma must have destroyed them” John remarked, but then realized something.

“If she did....then where is the blood?” The Elite replied, indicating the lack of blood anywhere near where the bodies had lain. Instead, the Elite raised his haid and sniffed the air, frowning. John himself couldn't smell a thing – the helmet was on environmental support; filtering all the air that came in.

“That stench. It cannot be natural.”

The Elite walked forwards cautiously, the Master Chief followed, turning around to keep a sharp eye on their back.

He glanced out the window at the storm raging outside. This storm...where had it come from? What was it? It had hit the soldier, bringing not only him, but Alma here as well. It had to be here for some reason, some purpose.

Then he heard something behind him. It wasn't more than a scratching noise, but to John, it was more than enough for him to whirl around and bring both guns to bear. But when he looked, there was nothing. Cautiously, he turned back around to face the Elite and the corridor. Suddenly, the hud displays in his helmet flickered, and went dead.

Alma...he thought to himself. He accelerated the turn to look for the elite and warn him.

......only to find it gone.

He backpedaled, raising the rifles. Their was a corridor in front of him, no doubt, but it wasn't the one that he had seen a second ago.

This was one plain and long. The floor was tiled in white marble, while the walls were  plain white and made of concrete, as opposed to the alien metal he had seen just now. The sterilized smell of hospital floors hit his nostrils, despite the air filters. Looking around, he noticed that the walls had blood spattered all over them.

But what actually scared him the most, was what was at the end of it.At the end of the corridor, several meters ahead of him, was an object he hadn't seen since the days of his training.

The last time he had seen it was after the augmentation phase of the Spartan II program. Of the 75 members that had gone through it, 30 had died. During the funeral, he had seen some of the 12 of the surviving members (some of them in wheelchairs) in these vats being pulled away.

The thing was large and cylindrical. It was filled almost completely with a green liquid that emmited an eerie glow onto the corridor around it.

He took a step back. This couldn't be happening. Not here, not now.

John....

That single word, that single whisper sent chills down his spine, and brought to his mind a fear that he had felt only a few times before. He didn't hear it, so much as he felt it reverberate through his bones, through his very soul.

In shock, in horror, he stepped back. Unsure what to do, he raised his rifle and opened fire, closing his eyes and just blindly firing, screaming out at it almost uncontrollably. It only gave a laugh as it disappeared, fading away into nothingness.

And then something changed. He opened his eyes.

He was back in the corridor, just behind the Elite, looking at the corridor behind him.

Alma...it had to be Alma. She must be doing this to him. John could not help but feel a bit of fear in this scenario. He was almost helpless against Alma – she overrode all physical defenses he had, and everything they had thrown at her. To top it off, she was now playing with his mind.

Then John brought himself under control. He reigned in the thoughts, and remembered why he was here. He couldn't afford to loose control here. It would mean failing the mission, and all those that had died till now. It was something he couldn't afford. No matter what Alma did, he couldn't let himself loose control like that.

But then...that vat...what it represented to him brought only chills down his spines. Pushing away the thoughts however, he tried to focus on what the Elite was saying.

“Are you allright – you didn't respond.” the Elite turned and asked him. John simply nodded.

“Alma is getting more aggressive. She just pulled some form of illusion on my mind. We need to get off this ship.”

The Elite nodded, turned around and began to ran. Glancing back, John began to follow.
As they ran past the windows, the storm boiled and raged outside. If one were to look carefully enough, they would find the patterns extremely interesting. For this was no ordinary storm, that much was for sure.

If one were to look carefully near the window area, they would find these patterns merging and re-enforcing each other in one particular area just outside of it. Each part, each wave of the pattern was chaotic, random, yet seemingly fitting. If one were to go up the scale, and actually looked at the patterns as they came together, they would very easily be able to make out a face in the clouds. A face that moved as it followed the two individuals move past the window slowly and cautiously.

Then, as they went past it and out of sight, the face smiled.

[Singh]

In the cell block that they had left, the cell where they had left the soldier was now empty. The only traces of his existance was the pool of blood that was present where he had lain wounded, mere minutes before.

Indeed, there was no life left inside the block, with the only sounds coming from the howling wind outside, and the constant hum of the lights and other systems as they did their best to work around the damage.

Outside the forcefield that kept the outer atmosphere at bay, the storm raged and churned. The wind beat against the forcefield with all it's might, battering it relentlessly in an attempt to get in. An odd phenomenon, considering that the pressure outside would mean that air would attempt to get out according to logic, and physics.

Yet, it blatantly disobeyed the laws of physics, and battered even harder. The lights flickered on and off again and the ship shook slightly as lightning battered the ship all over.

Looking through the forcefields, one could see the lightning as it flashed by once, and then again, and then again. At first, there was one flash as lightning struck past the window, at an unknown target. And then another as it struck back in the opposite direction. The frequency started to increase. From 1 every few seconds, to one every two seconds, to one a second. The roar of the thunder increased as the strikes grew; each one rolling into the other to form a continous roar that deafened the years. The frequency grew to such proportions that no human mind could count the number of strikes per second.

And then the lights began to flicker again before coming on. Then they flickered again, for several seconds, before finally dying out completely. However, there was no darkness, as the entire block was lit up by the lightning that was present outside.

The roar began to grow in intensity, getting loud enough to shatter the few glass panels that were inside the block. Any living being inside would have had their ears ruptured by the sheer intensity, and elsewhere on the ship, anyone on the same deck would have been able to hear it as a loud explosion.

Then, in what seemed as a final act of release, of climax, a lightning bolt reached out from the cloud, touching and then going through the forcefield with ease. It bypassed it almost completely, and struck the central column square in the centre.

The power of the explosion set the remains of the helicopter ablaze, as well as driving the center of the column outwards, collapsing it and bringning down a fair part of the ceiling with it.

The collapsed remains soon caught fire, sending the entire cell block ablaze. Sirens blared out from everywhere, and the automatic sprinklers came online where they were still intact. However, they were too few and too little to do any difference for this scenario.

The flames intensied further as the wind now fueled them onwards. They roared to life, growing in size and heat as they consumed the helicopter and surrounding material. The howl of the wind permeated through the entire deck, as it blasted through the remains of the door and out into the corridors beyond. In the corridor where the master chief and the elite had just passed, the wind blew away at the remains of the shield and pistols that the jackals had left there, picking them up with a powerfull surge and then throwing them against the walls.

In the cell block itself, near the gaping hole that was now no longer protected by the forcefield, something stirred. The flames licked at it, driven back only by the pressure of the wind as it surged forwards. If one were to walk to the very edge of the hole, and indeed, peeked over, they would see only the storm raging below them. The same would be true if they looked up, past the ship's rear.

And then, beyond it itself, the storm suddenly calmed. The cloud's churning began to slow, and the raging began to subside. The edges of the cloud grew thicker as it entered the ship, the cloud mixing in with the smoke from the fire to produce a thick layer of smog around the entrance, and in that section of the cell block itself.

As one looked on, however, they could make out the outline of something that was moving in the fog. The outline soon solidified into a humanoid shape. As it moved forwards, the fires began to grow in intensity, the top of the flames now reaching half-way to the ceiling, almost. The figure's outline and features began to blur again through the cloud of smog and fire as it walked calmly through, ignoring the heat and chaos around it.

It walked through the flames itself, unaffected by them completely. The first thing one would be able to notice as it finally exited the smog in the middle of the room would have been the black boots, as well as the torn and shredded military-grade trousers that the person wore. As the figure emerged from the fog, one could clearly make out that it was male. Wearing a red shirt and a black jacket over it, the man looked ahead at the door way. He stopped for a moment as the lights came on around him, and then flickered and died once more.

Paxton Fettel's expressions grew into that of a rather evil smile.

Alma...... he whispered, to nobody in particular. His voice was soft, low and had an icy tone in it. He then took a step forward and his entire body disappeared into ashes as he began to walk forwards.