[Singh]

The world was nothing but a haze of pain and agony to Sadhal. He did not know how he was still alive, or indeed, why the fall hadn't killed him outright. During the landing, he thought he had felt a bone or two snap, but couldn't be sure. The pain was so indescrete, so consuming he didn't even know where it originated from.

But then it slowly and steadily began to fade away. The haze started to dissipate and his senses started to retake their foothold in reality. In that haze, he had felt little other than the pain, but as it drifted off, he could hear far-off voices. One was familiar, but he couldn't place it, while the other was completely alien to his memory. He could only make out fragments, pieces of conversation. As he came to, he slowly began to recognize it as terran standard.

Then the memories of what had happened began to return. The human, the ladder and the fall. All of it flashed through his mind, to result in a single thought, one that brought nothing but worry to his mind.

Why am I still alive?

By all accounts, he should he dead by now from the fall...and yet, strangely he wasn't.

The next thing he noticed was the foul stench that permeated the air. He nearly gagged at the repugnant odour; smelling of rotted carcasses and something else that seemed oddly familiar. Training won out and soon took over his thoughts as he slowly approached the edge of conciousness.

Realizing it was best that he get up as soon as possible, Sadhal began to move, opening his eyes and trying to take a look around in the darkness. He was on the elevator platform, and the entir floor was littered with debris of various size and shapes. Sadhal thanked his luck when  Not a foot away from where he had landed was a sharp spike

Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the elevator, he tried to look around for either the Demon or anything else. As they did, however, he was in for a big shock.

The source of the stench became immediately clear as Sadhal struggled to keep his stomach contents within himself. He was surrounded by bodies; all reduced to nothing but mere skeletons; each one mutated and mutilated to a significant degree. He recognized them as having belonged to Elites and Brutes once, but now there was nothing. However, the blood around them had a far different taint than it would normally have. Instead of being the regular purple hue that made up the blood of most elites, the skeletons were surrounded by a sickly shade of green that utterly disgusted Sadhal to the core.

How had they gotten to be like this? Had Alma missed a few survivors, and had then killed them as she found them later?

But then...why did she miss me? he thought to himself. No, it couldn't be that. Could these skeletons have been here all along, then? Yes, that must have been the answer. However, the green blood was odd...strange. And that stench...it smelt...different somehow...he had been near carcasses before, and the way the scent wafted through the air was far, far different than any normal one. In fact, it was similar to what he had sensed earlier in the corridor; the scent holding the same exact, disgustingly choking flavour.

Trying not to gag, Sadhal examined to see if anyone was alive around him, only to find nothing. The dust on the floor had been disturbed in several places, but it could have been the result of whatever had killed the elites and brutes surrounding him. Rather than question it, however, Sadhal wondered where the Demon had gone.

Has Alma taken him? the thought reverberated through his mind. He had been out for quite a while now. The Demon could have recovered and left by now. Sadhal snorted realizing that such a thing wasn't really all that surprising. Although temporarily brought together by Alma's presence, Sadhal still did not feel any sympathy for the humans. This was especially true since Alma was human – or at least seemingly, a dead one.

Considering what to do, Sadhal realized that his original plan was probably the best option. He needed to get off this ship, and onto the planet below. There may still be surviving Covenant ships around Earth itself, and if any were being controlled by the Elites, he had a chance of getting back into combat and once more being usefull instead of just another puppet for the prophet.

With this in mind, he headed towards the corner of the gravity lift that housed the ladder – the same one he had fallen from earlier. Although as he looked up at the darkness, Sadhal felt a bit apprehensive of going up all over again, he realized there was little other choice.

If he was to survive this entire ordeal, that meant that he'd need to get off this ship, and as far away from Alma as was possible. That meant getting to the seraph fighter in the hangar bay. But to that, he still needed to open the bay doors...which, sadly, needed to be done from the bridge.

Looking up at the darkness above, he only shook his head and then placed a hand on the rung. Slowly, steadily, he began to climb, his body disappearing from the dimly lighted area of the elevator and into the darkness of the elevator shaft.

This was going to be a long, long climb.

[Singh]

Back in the remains of the cell block, the storm continued to rage outside the gaping hole, while a fiery inferno danced its way across the inside of the ship. The entire block was truly a scene from hell itself; with the temperatures being nearly hot enough to completely melt the walls inside.

The fire was odd, for if one were to look carefully enough to look into the inferno, and were able to survive it’s deadly temperatures, one would be able to see that the flames simply burned. They did not consume any fuel, nor did they seem to suffer from the same lack of oxygen or medium that most normal fires would suffer from as well. Any living soul would have been frightened, indeed, nigh terrified to be in that cell at the moment.

But for the moment, at least, there was no living soul to witness the inferno as it played havoc with the contents of the room. Nor was there a living soul to witness the storm as it began to churn and boil faster than before. Immediately outside the gap in the hull, a significantly sized vortex began to form, the dark grey clouds whirling around and around in patterns and spirals that would make the average human dizzy if they were to watch it’s creation and evolution.

Soon, the spirals began to spin faster and faster, till the flames began to be drawn towards it. Lightning arced outside the tear, lighting up the entire room in white. Like before, it’s frequency increased continuously for several seconds till the entire room was filled with nothing but the sound of thunder and a blindingly white light.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, there was nothing. The light faded away, leaving behind it the still on-fire room behind it. But now, there was something different.

There was an object at the lip of the tear, or rather, a person. It kneeled on the ground, one hand balancing it. The person could be described as nothing short of a monster.

At eight feet in height, it towered over most normal humans, and could probably look over most brutes and elites with ease. Its monstrous size was almost as large as that of a hunter’s in fact, and judging from the way it looked, it was probably far, far deadlier.

The figure was dressed in armor, which had a dark purple hue to it. The armor wasn’t like any ordinary one, instead looked similar to a flak jacket made to fit it’s gargantuan size; even then it left bare the figure’s left shoulder and arm, along with a significant percentage of it’s neck. Massive boots covered the monster’s feet, while gloves covered incredibly swollen hands, while leaving its fingers exposed. The right hand and arm were grossly swollen, with the armor clearly stretching to accommodate them. Attached to the arm was what one would firmly recognize as a rocket launcher. A rather old model, compared to most UNSC devices today, it’s design was consistent to a much earlier era.

Where the armor did not cover the skin, one could be able to see mottled human skin, with many red patches. There was no visible hair, and two massive veins ran on the outside of the creature’s right shoulder structure, each one nearly as thick as a fist. The began and ended in the shoulder cavity itself, while two more snaked their way around the back of the monster’s neck, before disappearing into their chest. Underneath the shoulder vein was a red device of some sort, blinking slowly amidst a section of exposed flesh.

As deformed as the creature appeared in the flesh, it’s face was far, far different. It’s mouth was drawn back in grimace, with no visible lips, exposing a set of yellow, dirty teeth underneath. Its eyes were barely visible, being merely small, beady irises that seemed to glow an unholy white. A series of stitches ran across the centre and top of its bald, shriveled skull.

At one point of time, this figure may have been human; indeed, it may have led a normal life like any other. Perhaps within it’s mind; behind the grotesque abomination lay a trapped mind, only waiting for the right moment before it could either escape…or find some method with which to end it’s torment.

But for now, as it slowly rose it’s purpose was clear. This was a mighty foe; one that had resisted the advances of death many a time, but had eventually fallen to it. Now, its soul claimed and the mercy of an embodiment of entropy itself, the being’s purpose had changed. In another universe, and another time somewhat distant from that of the UNSC’s, this being was created at the express purpose as a bio-weapon by one of the planet’s major corporations. To some of the life-forms there, they would know the project, and the weapons as the ‘Nemesis’ project.

However, that is there, and this is now. Nemesis was no longer the great weapon of its creators, but rather, now a mere pawn of death itself. However, this fact did not make it any less deadly, or reduce its sheer tenacity.

Slowly, it took a step forwards. The flames that were on the floor and ceiling suddenly shifted, and parted. They made a path in front of the nemesis; allowing him to walk through unscathed.

Grimly, the massive form began to walk forwards through the path. It now had been given a purpose; one which it would now complete. Capable of only minor thought, thanks to the chip in its brain, it walked out of the cell block, intent on hunting down its target…one that was now climbing up the ladders to the bridge.

Sadhal. It slowly hissed the name that death had given to it. As lucky as he may be, John 117 was not the only one being hunted by death today.

[Mefustae]

Good, but why the sudden Resident Evil twist?

[Singh]

Because death needs casuality to accomplish it's deeds. Nemesis is one of those instruments of said casuality, and it is within's death's employ. And also because that's just the way the story goes, really.


The climb up was long and tedious, to say the least. The ladder rungs had been broken in a few places, and Sadhal nearly had a few close calls along the way; but he had managed to overcome each one and gotten through it just fine.

Not too bad. he thought to himself, as he got off the ladder and into the small alcove next to the door. There was a route into the main bridge itself that was used by the engineer castes for rapid transit. But it was too small for Sadhal to squeeze into, forcing him to dismiss that possibility.

If things were only too easy.

He briefly considered his options. Leaning out from the alcove, he noticed the thin ledge that ran around the wall of the elevator shaft. It was just a foot away from the edge of the alcove and just wide enough to fit his foot sideways. There were some hand-holds in the gap between the door and the alcove.

Reaching out for the hand-holds and trying his best to maintain balance, Sadhal deftly and quickly swung himself out of the alcove and onto the ledge. The holds kept their grip onto the otherwise-smooth wall as Sadhal slowly and carefully scraped his way over the edge; somewhat thankful he was facing the wall, as opposed to the dark gloom below. Sadhal was far, far higher than before, and if he were to fall now, he would more than likely die.

Best not to tempt fate twice. He thought to himself, edging closer to the control panel on the other side of the door. Sadhal went as far as he could while grabbing onto the hand-hold. Fortunately, the door itself had several places where he could forcefully grab and open it. Sadhal realized that doing so in his current situation would be close to impossible, to say the least.

As he grabbed onto the onto the gaps in the door, Sadhal exhaled the breath that he had been unconsciously holding before letting go of the hand hold. Bringing his hand about, he then proceeded to move across the door and to the control panel and hand hold on the other side. All the while, he continued to pray that the power remained out and that the door would remain closed, as opposed to detecting his motion and then opening up right now. Either the door opening or the lift coming up would kill him right about now; a fact that would simply not quit nagging his mind. Thoughts of his potential demise seem to fill his mind by their own volition; and of the suffering that he would have at Alma’s hands should he somehow manage to meet her again.

Sadhal shook his head. Focus. He was loosing sight of the objective, which was to get as far away from Alma as possible – which, in turn, was only possible by opening up the fighter bay from the bridge…which in turn was on the other side of the door he was hanging off of now.

Sighing slightly, he continued to pull himself across, making it a point not to look back and down. At least, he tried not to, but failed when he heard it. A loud clang sounded off from the bottom of the elevator shaft; resounding and echoing it’s way up to him. It was shortly followed by another and then another; almost as if someone was beating against one of the doors on the lower deck, trying to either claw or beat it’s way through. It continued on for several seconds, beating in a regular rhythm and pattern that grew steadily louder and louder.

Catching himself, Sadhal moved. Crossing the door as fast as he could, he grabbed the hand-hold and then began to work on the control panel. Fortunately, his access codes to the doors hadn’t been removed yet by the engineers, allowing for the door to open swiftly and silently. Reaching around the door, Sadhal swung into the corridor, unholstering the plasma rifle and bringing it up in case of any danger. Through the door, Sadhal could hear as the clanging on the lower door stop, only to be replaced by the loud screech of a door being dragged open.

Not wanting to find out who or what it may be, Sadhal immediately went to the panel, closing the door and then locking it. Whatever it was, if it could open a door like that, Sadhal didn’t want anything to do with it. For all he cared, it could be the denizens of hell itself rising up and claiming the ship – his main objective right now was to get to the bridge, and then getting off.

After the console beeped in recognition of his code, Sadhal turned around. There was a junction connecting three corridors here. All were bathed in the yellow color of alert sirens and emergency power. One corridor went off in front of him, while two more went off to either side and slightly behind him. Turning right, he ran down the corridor, heading straight towards the bridge. It was a straight jog; barely twenty meters before he reached the turning that led in. Judging from what he remembered, Sadhal knew that there would be a short stairway, leading up to the command deck, and from there he could get into the bridge.

There was normally a separate force field on the bridge; but hopefully, if anyone was alive he’d be able to convince them of what happened and they would lower it to let him in.

But what of the prophet? the thought hit him. If indeed, anyone was alive, so would the prophet…would he be able to convince them of what happened…of the little human girl that had somehow killed everyone on the ship. And indeed, what of the brutes that surrounded him? Would they believe him at all, or just kill him off…or worse?

The thoughts were struck clean from his mind, however, as he approached the turning that led into the access way. Although it was dark, he could feel that he had stepped into something…some form of liquid. The entire floor ahead of him was covered in it; and so too were the walls. It flowed and moved; and more importantly, it stank of charred flesh and bones; as if someone had been set on fire and just left there.

Blood. to Sadhal’s sheer shock and horror, he realized that he was standing in a rather large pool of blood; one that was still collecting even as he took a step to get away from it.

No….it can’t be. he thought to himself; struck by a wave of nausea and uneasiness taking over him. Had the force field collapsed? And if so…he could only shudder as he imagined what the bridge would be like. It would explain a lot of things, as it were, including the lack of any armed resistance thus far.

Holding his breath and taking a step further, Sadhal literally waded into the massive pool of blood; which as he got closer to the doorway, became deeper and deeper till it covered his feet almost completely.

Turning the corridor; he found it’s source, much as he had dreaded. The charred skeletons and remains of almost two dozen brutes littered the corridor behind where the force field had been; including one that was near the console itself. The skeletons themselves only had a small portion visible above the blood; indicating just how deep it was. The scene was horrendous and gut-churning. For all the Brutes had done…not even they deserved a fate as this.

At least, I don’t have to worry about the prophet anymore. Sadhal thought to himself as he carefully stepped through the remains. When he was past it, and up the stairway, he breathed a sigh of relief, and tried wiping the blood off his feet; only to give up and continue on, leaving a trail of the Brute’s blood behind him.

The access way split into a ring-like corridor that went around the bridge. Rather than go around, Sadhal took the immediate entrance in, opening the door using his codes. The room beyond was dark, with even the emergency lights being off. The only light came through from behind Sadhal, but even that was somewhat reduced.

Moving around, he felt for the light control switch. Although he wasn’t technically an engineer, he still had enough experience to know that there was back-up lights to even the backups. They were installed right next to the door, so as to facilitate easy access. Feeling around, Sadhal found the panel cover and opened it, at which point he was greeted by the soft blue glows of the forerunner control panel. Activating it, Sadhal was somewhat relieved as several blue and white lights came on all over the bridge and at the various consoles.

As they did come up, however the scene had sadly been just as he had expected; with there being an incredible amount of blood and gore all over the place. Skeletons lay thrown over consoles and chairs, while in the centre of it all lay the remains of the prophet. The chair still hovered over where it had been, forming a rather eerie sight as the prophet’s bone structure remained stuck on the chair, the expression on the skull frozen in pain and agony.

Shaking his head, Sadhal stepped into the massacre that was the bridge. Normally, this would have disturbed him greatly…but after the events of today…he doubted he’d ever be as disturbed by such gore as he had been just a few moments ago. Holstering his plasma rifle, he looked around and found the control console he was looking for at the other end of the room, past the prophet’s throne.

Creeping along the side, he closed the door behind him and made his way around the bridge. Finally reaching it a bit later, Sadhal checked the controls, and found that, surprisingly, they were still working. Thanking his luck, he began to unlock the controls to the fighter bay’s launch hanger. Although it would still remain closed, he would be able to open it manually from there itself. His task done, Sadhal breathed a sigh of relief. All he had to do now was to head down to the fighter bay, grab the last Seraph fighter, and then flee for his life. To make the journey a bit quicker, he activated the lifts as well; and brought up the elevator he had just been in up to the bridge level.

It was hardly an honorable prospect, and went against all of his training, and indeed, his very upbringing. All elites were taught to die in battle; and indeed, he truly did want that honorable fate. But to go against a foe like Alma…that was not an honorable death…that was a stupid one. Nothing he had could possibly enable him to fight her, while she in return could potentially throw him a fate far worse than death itself.

His thinking was interrupted, however, when a loud thud rang out behind him.

Whirling around, Sadhal brought up his rifle at the door. Another thud rung out, deeper than the previous one, and was soon followed by another. It’s distinctive trait was a dead giveaway for being footsteps. Looking around, Sadhal spied a brute plasma rifle next to the nearest skeleton. Brushing aside the skeleton, he dual-wielded the rifles. Taking cover behind one of the panels, Sadhal aimed the rifles at the door, ready to fire at whatever came through.

The thuds slowly started to get louder, and heavier, increasing the tension in the air as they approached just outside the door. Then something banged against the door with a loud metallic clang, startling Sadhal. The clanging grew louder and louder as something tried to make its way through the door. It was then that he could hear a muffled voice coming through the door.

Sadhal was about to move out of the cover and go out the alternative exit when, suddenly, the door opened and a Brute – a live one – stumbled into the bridge. Sadhal eased a  bit, but didn’t lower the rifles. As much as he was glad to see something other than the Demon or Alma, a Brute wasn’t really all that much higher up on the list. And judging from the ranks on this one’s flag, it was the commander of the local company. The brute sweeped his immediate surroundings with the grenade launcher before spotting Sadhal and focusing it on him.

“You! How dare you bring your incompetent into the sanctum of the hierarchs?”

The commander asked, giving a low growl. Sadhal frowned before he replied, somewhat annoyed at this. He didn’t have time for this, yet if he didn’t delay the brute here and now, he would probably kill Sadhal and take the fighter for himself.

“The human girl has killed everyone on the ship, including the prophet and many more. She is currently loose on the lower decks…what makes you believe that I wouldn’t be up here if she were down there?”

The Commander growled in reply.

”Do no show me your insolence, heretic! I bet her presence here has something to do with your kind! How did you survive her, if you have seen her?”

“My shields protected me against her. A better question, however, would have been how you survive with no form of energy shielding.”

Sadhal countered, somewhat curious as to how the Brute had survived. He purposely made sure not to mention anything about the demon, or what he had been doing so far – the situation was tense and bad enough on it’s own as it is.

The brute only grunted and didn’t reply. He looked at the console which Sadhal had used to open up the fighter bay and only nodded, giving an amused huff at the elite.

“I see your survival instincts kicked in first…it is not a wonder the prophets left you.”

Sadhal growled in reply. This brute was getting the better of him.

Unacceptable.

“Says the one that crawled into a hiding hole to save himself and abandon his squad.”

Before anyone could reply and the argument continue onwards, Sadhal heard something coming from to his right; a slight ca-chink sound – one which was very, very familiar. Then something streaked across his vision, leaving a trail of smoke behind before it impacted the Brute dead-on in the chest, knocking him backwards and blowing a massive hole through the torso. The commander let out a gurgled howl before it died out and his corpse fell against the wall behind him.

Looking at where it came from, Sadhal turned to his right…only to get the most horrific shock of his life, as he gazed upon the form that stood at the bridge’s port entrance.

The form was massive, and had clearly been human at one point of time. It was significantly deformed, however, and far more massive than it should have been. It easily towered over him and could probably see over the brute. Sadhal could easily see the mottled skin and patches of mutated flesh all along the body.

Could this be flood? No. This thing…this aberration was far, far different than any of the flood forms he had seen to date…and the weapon it carried was unlike anything he had seen either the humans or any covenant to carry.

It was now facing Sadhal, and looked at him with blank, white eyes that seemed to shine with something deeper…darker. It shook the weapon in it’s hand, and Sadhal recognized the form of a spent rocket coming out of the chamber. The same sound as earlier came as a new rocket was loaded into the chamber…which it now pointed straight at him.

Time seemed to slow as Sadhal leaped out of the way instinctively. A massive fire issued forth from the rear of the launcher as the rocket launcher and then streaked across the room. It approached him while he was in mid-leap, barely missing his shield by less than two or three centimeters. It’s trail burned the shield however, throwing the exhaust into the red as he felt the increase in heat. The rocket then flew straight into the opposite control panel, impacting in a massive explosion that pushed Sadhal off his balance as he landed, and onto his side. The blast from the explosion drove him into the edge of the console, sending a sharp blast of pain through his back and side. But Sadhal recovered quickly enough to turn around….only to watch, dumbstruck as the creature leaped through the air, almost eight meters, and land right in front of him. It drew it’s hand back – the rocket launcher mysteriously vanishing behind its back – and then brought it down. It hit the ground where Sadhal had been standing just a second ago, creating a massive dent and illiciting a roar of pain from the creature, as it withdrew its smashed hand.

Sadhal rolled away and immediately came up firing. Blue and Red plasma bolts filled the air, landing on the creature’s flak jacket and melting away chunks of its flesh. It roared in pain, but incredibly kept coming despite the attacks. It brought it’s hand back up – and Sadhal was shocked to see that the bone structure seemed to have healed itself – and then just as quickly punched Sadhal directly in the gut before he had a chance to reply.

The strength behind the punch was enormous, enough to throw him across the room and into the wall on the other side. His shields immediately died out after having taking most of the energy from it. Still, despite the shield, Sadhal nearly cried out in pain as he felt even more of his ribs break from the assault, while the already-shattered ones protested at the ill-treatment they were receiving.

Still, somehow he managed to find the energy to get up. He looked to the side and found that he had fortunately managed to land right next to the door. Taking this opportunity, Sadhal quickly ran out, hit the emergency lock, and then proceeded to run down the access way faster than he had ever run in his life.

What the hell was that thing? Sadhal thought to himself as he jumped over the bloody remains in the corridor. There was no time for respect or anything else – otherwise he, too, would be joining them. He paused and gasped at the turn into the main corridor as a sharp pain ran through his chest, however. His injuries were severe, and he doubted he had the strength to take the ladders down…and the elevator was just a sitting target if that thing blew out the top doors. He needed another way down. Remembering a series of access ramps to the far side of the ship, Sadhal looked back, only to hear the thump of heavy footsteps running and following him.

Definitely the ramps.

With that last thought, he turned and ran down to the elevators and the corridors, with nemesis in hot pursuit.

[Singh]

Meanwhile, on the lower decks of the ship, John 117 was having difficulties of his own. Gravemind was racing off ahead of him, and John could clearly make out the fact that he was actually going slow to allow him to keep up. Most Spartans – even in their armor, still ran pretty fast – faster than any unaltered human, at any rate. However, even without his armor, John doubted if he would have been able to keep up with the soldier – whom, as if to make it seem worse, had actually suffered far worse injuries than John himself. But then, he did have Gravemind, and the power of the flood infection driving him onwards.

That fact did little to comfort him, however. The soldier was easily a match for a Spartan, maybe even two, should circumstances be in his favor. This indicated that either whomever had enhanced him was probably fairly advanced, or he was one hell of a genetic freak…or was it a combination of both? Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn’t. All John knew now was that this soldier was from nowhere in the UNSC, and hell, probably nowhere in this universe or time-frame at all, if one were to judge by the helicopter that had crashed into the cell block below.

As they passed by an intersection, John began to wonder. Where were they headed? They were obviously chasing a foe that was capable of teleportation, and yet they were simply running? Or was he lost, merely moving around at random? Did Gravemind even have a plan, or know where they were going in the first place? As Gravemind stopped just before yet another intersection, John stopped and spoke up, trying to get his attention before he ran off again.

“Where are we going?”

Gravemind didn’t look back as he replied.

“To chase down death.”

“How, exactly?” John asked, somewhat annoyed at the vague response. Gravemind turned around, and seemed to smile as he replied, slowly and in a tone that sent shivers up his spine.

“By bringing Alma to us.”   

As chilling as the prospect may have been, John was more concerned about how exactly Gravemind was going to accomplish this. Alma was being chased by death through the ship now; which meant that they pretty much had no chance to catch up, hence the plan was a logical one. Save, of course, for the most important flaw: their was no reason for Alma to come to them, other than to kill them, of course. So he re-iterated his question again.

“How?”

“How do you think?”

Came the cryptic reply. John was getting frustrated at this, yet there was absolutely nothing he could do. Like it or not, he was at the mercy of Gravemind here, and if he wanted to be cryptic and offer riddles…there was little that John could do in reply. Except for just asking, and maybe playing along, perhaps.

“I don’t know.”

Although John couldn’t clearly see it behind the soldier’s gas mask, he could feel it as Gravemind’s expression changed to one of annoyance, and slight anger, with his tone matching it.
“She will come to us, because I said so. Death cannot take Alma while she is with us, but neither is she capable of defeating either of us without it. She knows this…she will come…she has to come, otherwise death will claim her…if not now, then eventually.”

John considered this for a brief second. Alma seemed perfectly capable of causing harm, even in the soldier’s presence before…but with Gravemind, it could be a different story. It did seem logical…

His thoughts were interrupted however, as his radio suddenly burst to life and crackled. John’s head snapped up as he heard voices. Human voices, to be specific. The tone was short, crisp, and more of barks of orders and than anything else. He recognized the orders though – whomever they were, they were marines. However, it was slightly different to what he was accustomed to.

Up ahead of him, Gravemind seemed to look up and notice this as well. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Instead, he slid up to the wall and carefully began to move forwards towards the intersection. He glanced back, and placed one finger on his mouth, indicating for John to remain quiet. From behind John, a flood combat form stepped forward and past him. It then went past the soldier and into the intersection.

The radio came alive once more and a single, loud voice came out over the radio. He heard it twice, though, for an echo seemed to be coming from the corridor as well.

”Hostile contact. Open Fire!”

Gunfire roared from the corridor, and would have deafened John had it not been for the automatic filters in his suit. At the same time, the combat form flew back at a speed that was simply shocking as several strange spikes hit in the chest, face and arms. The spikes were obviously High Velocity rounds, as proven by the way they buried themselves into the wall, and essentially nailed the combat form with them as well.

”Hostile down.”

A shout came from the intersection and John’s radio set. It was at this point of time that another combat form walked to both men standing there. But rather than repeat the same mistake that it’s predecessor had made, the combat form stopped in front of both the men. It was then that the Gravemind took the weapon it was wielding – a Covenant carbine. Gravemind turned back to John, and spoke to him, his tone somewhat grave.

“It appears that death has employed the Replicas to aid in its cause...Be on your guard; for these foes are nearly as tough as my vassal, and they are heavily armed.”

With that, the Gravemind turned and moved with astonishing speed. Even with John’s reflexes, he was unable to keep up as the soldier’s body disappeared around the bend, and the sound of several carbine rounds being fired came to him. In response, several more HV spikes buried themselves into the wall and the nailed combat form to his right. Looking around, he realized that he lacked a weapon – something which was immediately fixed when another combat form came up to him and handed him a battle rifle.

”Hostile Contact! Take him down!

Taking it, John checked the motion tracker and his shields, noting where the targets should be from the movement. Time seemed to slow as John took a breath, and then dived out into the corridor.

The corridor ended just around 10 meters down the intersection, but any proper assault on the position would be impossible. These ‘Replicas’ as the Gravemind called them, were firmly entrenched behind several barricades, through which they opened fire. However, despite this, Gravemind had already nailed two of the Replicas in the head with multiple Carbine rounds. Oddly, each Replica was dressed almost the same as the Gravemind himself, and were clearly soldiers of the same caliber, except more numerous. They wore different kinds of gas masks, but other than that each was identical to the other, much like clones or such. Same height, same build, same everything. There wasn’t even any rank or such identification on their arms or shoulders.

However; there was one big difference: their injuries. Despite having a hole in their head the size of a coin from the Carbine burst, two of the Replicas were still firing away, clearly conscious and in control of their motor skills. If nothing else, John had to give it to these people for being incredibly determined. John concentrated on these two first, firing off a three round burst at each. The bullets streaked across, just barely above the Gravemind’s head before burying themselves into the Replica’s head. The damage was apparently too much, and both fell instantly. However, the new target caught the remaining three Replica’s attention, all of whom promptly fired at him.

”Two Men down! We need re-enforcements!”

HV rounds flew across space and impacted against John’s shields. Although all of them bounced off, the sheer mass and velocity was enough to drain his shields completely, not to mention slam his half-ton armor right into the wall as he cleared the intersection. Fortunately, he managed to make it all the way through, despite the change in direction, and took cover. His chest and abdomen burst into pain from the injuries he had taken so far. However, it faded a moment later as the suit’s painkillers came in and dulled it to nothing. Breathing heavily, John got up and was about to run back into the corridor when he noticed something right next to his leg.

It was small, blue and round and upon closer examination was clearly a Covenant plasma grenade. Thanking his luck, John wasted no time as he lifted the grenade and jumped up. Gravemind by this time was up on his feet and already retreating back to cover. As he came around the corridor, firing away, John noticed no less than three spikes buried in his torso and arm. Gravemind seemed to noticed this as well, and simply ripped each spike out. It was a sight that chilled John to the core. No Spartan would have been able to survive such a HV round without shields, much less pull them out after being hit with them. It also scared him that they were going against such opponents. The Covenant were one thing…but this?

Pushing the thoughts away, John waited a few seconds for his shields to recharge fully. This time, however, he didn’t exactly go into the fray. Rather, he stood near the edge of the intersection, and then calmly threw the grenade in. He just withdrew his hand in time as a HV spike flew to where it had been. However, even before the grenade could land, the Replicas had reacted, as judged by their response over the radio.

”Squad down! Take Cover!”

This was promptly followed a second later by the large splash of both sound and heat that erupted from the corridor end. Snaking the optical cord around the corridor, John was somewhat disappointed to see that the Grenade had only taken one of the Replicas down, and had only taken the arm off another – who now wielded his weapon single-handed using the other.

”Pull back!

One of them shouted. The one-armed Replica opened fire with the HV Cannon, forcing John and the Gravemind to remain under cover as hurried footsteps could be heard. By the time John looked back, he could see another door sliding shut behind both Replicas.

“Come. The hunt goes on, my friend.”

Gravemind spoke from behind him, walking past John and into the corridor. There was little John could do but follow him wordlessly.

Hunting indeed.

He thought to himself, suddenly wishing that this day would end soon. After all he had seen today, somehow dying didn’t seem like too bad a prospect anymore. What would come in next? Whatever it was, John really didn’t want to find out.

[Rampage]

What happened to Paxton Fettel?  Since the Replicas are active again, is he working for Death?  And since Alma in the original F.E.A.R. storyline can connect w/ Fettel, how will this affect the outcome?

I guess we will see, but those are some points to consider.

- Rampage

[Singh]

I thought I had made it clear on that....apperantly I was probably too vague.

In any case, since its already mentioned, I might as well say it. For those who haven't read yet, warning: spoilers!

Fettel isn't 'working' for death, more than his body and mind are currently it's pawn, much like how Gravemind is controlling the Pointman or how death is also controlling Nemesis. Alma cannot dare connect to Fettel now, since she would be connecting with death itself - something she's sorta escaped for some time now, owing to her nature. Death is merely using Fettel's body and capabilities to help bring about it's objective as it hunts Alma down - namely, killing the Master Chief. It cannot chase down the Chief directly and take him - it's limited by the fact that it can only use the tools of causality, meaning the replicas will have to do the job for it to take what it wants. However, it does tend to let people slip through the gaps - as it did with Gravemind, who is now determined to basically get Alma and the master chief, protect them and use blackmail so that death claims it first.

Thats the gist of the story so far.

[Singh]

They ran for what seemed like ages, crossing the span of several rooms and what looked like research labs occasionally. They were now in one large, rather empty cargo bay, but for the most part the travel had been quiet. There were no signs of any Replicas so far, except perhaps the trail of blood the injured one had left behind. But even it had stopped after either the Replica had bandaged it, or the wound had closed enough for it to stop bleeding. Gravemind had, for the most part, remained quiet till now, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

John was still unsure where they were going to. It seemed they were crossing the width of the ship and had traveled for a significant distance already. The other end – and more than likely Gravemind’s objective – could not be far away now. The lack of Replicas had been somewhat convenient thus far. However, that didn’t change the fact that with each door they went to, both men remained on high alert.

And that alertness paid of  as both were approaching the Cargo bay exit. John took the approach from the right of the door, while Gravemind took the left. The door opened as they approached, sliding open quickly and exposing a short corridor beyond that led into an intersection and several other rooms.

“All units, fall back! Seal that route!”

The call came out over the radio and again echoed from outside and John’s head snapped to its source. Some distance from the door, he could see no less than four replicas hot-legging it away from the door and into one of the separate rooms.

John looked at Gravemind before taking a step towards the door to follow them. It was then that the second burst of static came over the radio as one of the Replicas shouted

“All clear! Fire in the hole!”

Neither of them had time to react, or even move as the signature click of a C4 or similarly sized explosive could be heard, and a massive explosion filled the corridor beyond. The shockwave erupted out from the door, lifting both Gravemind and the Master Chief off their feet, only to drop them nearly ten feet away from where they had stood. John grunted in pain as he landed on a container, further aggravating his injuries.

He dulled the pain, though and slowly got up. He looked up at the remains of the door and the corridor, which was now alight with flames and oddly…steam. The fire soon died out a few moments later as green super-coolant flooded the corridor and began to seep in the cargo room. .

Must have hit a coolant line. That would explain it pretty well, actually. He looked around, searching for Gravemind.

Gravemind had been thrown a bit farther than John had been, but had already recovered and was surveying the damage. John considered this carefully…although clearly wearing a highly protective body armor, as well as being extra-ordinarily tough, the soldier hadn’t been kitted for EVA or any space work, and hence lacking in any armor that would hold up against the super-coolant. John’s armor on the other hand, was more than suited for the task. Gravemind must have seen this as he turned to John and spoke somewhat quickly.

“Death seeks to stop our advance, and it may have succeeded to an extent…” He pointed at the door and the super-coolant before continuing.

“Go through that corridor and past the rooms beyond…it will lead you to a series of ramps that head up straight to the bridge. I will meet you there once you arrive…”

John frowned. The bridge? Didn’t they just have an objective, to chase down Alma?

“Why the bridge?”

Gravemind cocked his head to one side, as if considering whether to answer the question or not. Finally, after a minute, he replied.

“The prophet promised Salvation to his people…to save his civilization and bring them the glory beyond death…he sought out the ark, to raise it from its eternal grave using the song of time, space and the darkness of life itself.”

Gravemind paused…as if considering what to say next. His tone turned low, dark, much like it had before he had shown John death’s eyes.

“Have you heard it? Ever listened to it?”

“Listened to what?”

John asked, obviously not sure what Gravemind was referring to.

“The song of life…the one that plays as it reverberates through the very souls of your species…the very essence of your beings?”

John shook his head, not liking where this was going. Gravemind looked away for a second…as if listening to a conversation or melody that was happening far away.

“I hear it…I hear it reverberate through every human being whose mind is absorbed into my own…the beauty, the symmetry…it lasts with the human will as it fights my presence for the brief few moments before it is overwhelmed…in a select few, the music, the song remains as do their wills and minds…those few that I cannot crush.”

John’s blood ran cold as he listened to Gravemind’s words. Despite what had gone on till now, he had to remind himself of the true nature of the being he was talking to, and of the sheer mental power it wielded.

How many souls have you consumed? How many lives have you crushed to hear that song? John thought, considering what he had said. Gravemind ignored him, however, and continued on.

“The ones you called the ‘forerunners’….they could hear it too…hear it call to them across the cosmos and time itself. They reveled in it, as did their creations. They knew only a few other species had that song…that symphony within them, as it were…but not everyone could hear it. That same symphony is the basis of all their technology, which now moves to the rhythm, the movements of time and space itself. Although you cannot hear it, I can.”

Gravemind took a step towards him, and John backed up instinctively. What he had just said…could it be true?

“And just as I can hear it, so can they.”

“Who?” John asked…but he already suspected who Gravemind was referring to.

“Ah…but you know that already, don’t you?”

John could almost feel the smile through the mask.

It couldn’t be. John thought, taking a step back as the truth finally revealed himself to him.

“oh…but it is…soon, with time…you too will hear it, and witness the things I have seen, and hear the song as it is so close…unfortunately for us, when death denied us what we wanted…”

Gravemind’s tone suddenly changed. It became darker…angrier. John could feel a rage building at its base, originating from how many centuries of isolation and insanity…

“It took away the song that filled us with purpose and led us through this world. It took away what was ours…it left us alone, it left us to listen a universe that was empty and as soundless as the vacuum of space. We hungered then…we hungered for so long for that song, for the souls that once littered and filled the galaxy from one end to the other…for thousands of years we watched and waited as creatures came to us…but when we fed on them, we found nothing but silence…and then, you came.”

Gravemind’s voice changed, and he gave out a short laugh as John stepped back. Although horrified.

“Why do you think they call your species as the reclaimers, John 117? Why do you think that you were chosen amongst so many others to become a SPARTAN? Why do you think that the few guardians that were left behind recognize your word above the covenants?”

Gravemind came closer, driving John back up against the wall. There was noplace to go as Gravemind came face to face with the Spartan and spoke lowly, quickly.

“It is because we hear the songs that echo through your souls. It is because they, like us, hunger for those songs. But unlike the guardians left behind to ‘contain’ us, we have no qualms when it comes to simply taking those songs from you, till either there is none left, or till Death takes us.”

Gravemind paused once more, and then stepped back and away from John.

“The song sings very loudly through your soul, my friend…it is one of the reasons that death has not been able to claim you as of yet.”

He paused for a second, then nodded.

“On the bridge, the prophet has with him a relic left behind by the ones that came before…a relic which holds within it the songs of their race, and the final legacy of their fallen empire. Find this relic, and Alma will seek refuge near it, as it will keep Death away from her. She has already sought for it, and failed…but you may have a better chance at finding it…she will most likely stop you on the way. But you, like the vassal that I now control, are strong enough to deter her. Go, I will meet you there.”

With that, Gravemind turned and ran off towards the intact exit, leaving a very puzzled and confused John behind.

What did I just learn? he contemplated…John really didn’t know which was more frightening; what had happened thus far, or what Gravemind had told him about not only the forerunners, but his entire race.

Will the beast betray us to satisfy his hunger?

John couldn’t help but question Gravemind’s purposes in this case, and what would happen should he finally get what he want…

Will he die and bring an end to this…or will he simply become stronger, and be the end of us all?

John really didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. But something told him he’d be finding out soon enough anyway. Putting the thoughts aside, he focused on the mission at hand. Too many lives were at stake…and if there even a small chance of saving them, he had to follow Gravemind.

However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t cheat at the game. In the end, he always won, and this would indeed be no different.

As the combat forms disappeared behind Gravemind, John checked his battle rifle. He still had two full clips left, excluding the one in the rifle itself. He had, over the past several rooms, managed to pick up four plasma grenades, though, which meant that he could use them in case his ammo ran out.

Sighing, John moved out, heading towards the door. He stepped over the frozen rubble, as he waded into the coolant. The suit’s auto-temperature functions kicked in as did the now-recharged shields, holding the freezing cocld off at bay. The damage had been pretty severe here, as judged by the immense holes on the walls. A significant amount of debris blocked his way, upon which a waterfall of super-coolant cascaded down from the ceiling and through it, till it finally met the floor and the pool of Coolant gathered there.

Shaking his head, John began to climb up the pile of debris, slinging his rifle as he did so. When he reached the small gap at the top, he checked the motion tracker as well as checking for any sounds in the area. Fortunately, there was nothing beyond the pile, and as he climbed through and gracefully dropped down onto the floor, nothing reacted to his presence either.

Removing the battle rifle, he kept it at the ready, and considered which way to go. There were three doors in front of him, each probably leading a different sector of the ship. Deciding to take the most straightforward route, he chose the door in the middle, and walked in. The room beyond was small, consisting of several consoles and repair gear. A wraith tank stood to one side, inactive, along with a few of the smaller ghosts. Although using the vehicles would be tempting, in the small corridors of the ship, it would only serve to slow him down a bit.

Snaking along the wall, John checked the room and made sure it was clear before nodding and carefully approaching the door from the side. It lit up and slid open, as he approached from the side.

”What was that?” John immediately heard as his radio crackled with activity once more. Rather than wait for them to finish, he snaked the optical cord around the door’s edge and took a quick peak.

The room beyond was more of a lab than anything else, with various consoles and tables scattered all over the place. At the centre, a single glowing sphere hovered in a statis field of some sort, surrounded by several sensors and instruments, as well as consoles from which engineers or scientists would study it.

However, what was more important was what was in front of it. Several tables had been moved and knocked over, forming large barricades behind which no less than a dozen Replicas had taken cover, and all had their weapons pointed at the door. These replicas were different, though. Unlike the others, which had gas masks, these just wore a mask over their mouths, and what was obviously a primitive set of NVGs over their eyes. They held several of the HV weapons he had seen earlier, but in addition to that, he could recognize a variety of twentieth century shotgun, as well as sub-machine guns and some sort of strange rifle he couldn’t immediately recognize.

“Flush him out!”

One of them said. It was then that John saw it. It wasn’t like the other Replicas at all, but it more than definitely was one. Unlike the others, all of whom wore regular body armor, this one was dressed in a massive suit that looked like it was powered armor. The helmet had four bright blue eye pieces – two were probably for normal situations while the other two seemed to be advanced sensors to detect targets at night, or possibly through walls. The heavy armor Replica held a massive gun in its hand, significantly larger than any he’d human weapon he’d seen to date. It had a solid build, with three massive barrels in the front, similar in width and size to that of a rocket launcher’s. He stared at it through the optical scope in awe, for a second. If it was a rocket launcher, that meant that he was significantly outgunned and probably even outclassed in this scenario. He then saw one of the Replicas behind the tables duck and then come back up, this time with a grenade in hand.

“Grenade out!”

John cursed and then dived away from the door just as the grenade was thrown. The door closed, and he could hear it as it bounced off and then exploded right on the other side. The doors bloomed outwards from the explosion, physically deforming to a certain extent. The sound and pressure wave managed to make it through however, and washed over John’s shields, draining them partially.

Coming up, he held the rifle towards the door and then lowered it when he realized that it was probably jammed.

Looks like I’ll need another way around. John thought. He double-backed to the intersection and took the door to the right and entered another storage room just like the middle one, except that there were two wraiths here and no ghosts. He kept a hidden position near the closets Wraith, in case there were people in the room.

Unfortunately for him, this one was not as empty as he had thought. Two replicas exited from the doors opposite on the other side, one armed with a shotgun and the other with an assault rifle. Again, the radio crackled as an outside signal came in.

“Echo 1 and 2, note that hostile might be trying to double back and flank the main group. Keep a sharp lookout and report back every five minutes.”

A burst of static, and one of the Replicas replied.

“Roger. We’ll keep a look out. Echo 2 out.”

The situation wasn’t good. John would much rather fight Covenant. At least they were predictable and hardly ever adapted. These Replicas, on the other hand, could more than easily pose a problem for even the toughest Earth special forces. He couldn’t help but imagine how much damage they could do to the Covenant, though. Their weaponry was far advanced than what the USNC had, and the training was obviously better as well – to say nothing of their resilience. John had no illusions that if given power armor just like theirs, an equal number of Replicas could probably outperform SPARTANS simply out of sheer toughness alone.

Yet, he now had to get through probably a horde of them. He stepped closer to the wraith, and wasn’t paying attention when suddenly, his boot hit the tank, causing a soft clang as metal met metal. It was too tiny to be heard, really, and any Covenant grunt or elite probably wouldn’t even have heard it.

But these were grunts or Elites.

“What was that?”

One of the Replicas asked, and both instantly went onto high alert.

“Echo 1, check it out.”

One of them barked.

“Roger, cover me.”

****. John cursed. This wasn’t good, not good at all. He crouched, keeping his hearing up as the Replica slowly began to creep towards his position, weapon raised. The replica was on the other side of the tank now, and judging from his sound, was probably headed around the tank. However, it was then that John heard the other one coming from the opposite direction, which he double confirmed with the motion tracker. He cursed mentally. They were good…perhaps a little too good.

Thinking quickly, John quietly reached up the tank and climbed up. He successfully managed to get on to the top of the tank just as they rounded it, only to find nothing. They looked at each other for the moment, before nodding and moving off. John breathed a sigh of relief, and waited tensely as they moved off. Once they had gotten a few feet away from the tank, he began to climb off and to the other side…

At that point of time, his luck ran out when a part of his weapons containment suddenly failed, and a plasma grenade slipped out from where it was held, clattering onto the ground.

The Replicas immediately whirled around and spotted him.

“Hostile Contact! He’s trying to flank!”

One of them shouted before they both simultaneously opened fire. The roar of the shotgun was loud, immensely so. Just from the sound alone, John could judge that its caliber and raw power was far, far greater than any shotgun he had seen to date. And judging by how it and the rifle ripped through the wraith’s armor where had been just milliseconds ago, he really didn’t want to be on the wrong end of it.

John rolled off the tank and came up firing. He fired several three-round bursts at the Replicas, who were now strafing sideways and firing at him as well. The first two bursts missed as they both dived away. The return fire didn’t, however, as bullet rounds pinged off his shields, but they held out well enough and were being drained slowly.

And then John was hit by a massive punch that forced him backpedal as the other Replica pumped the shotgun and fired a shot right at the centre of his shield. A major portion of the shield went down with that single blast.

Prioritize targets first.

John thought to himself…he was doing this wrongly. He was out in the open with no cover in sight. Focusing on the Replica with the shotgun, he leaded slightly with the sight, and opened fire again. The replica reacted – but only enough to get out of the way of one of the bullets. It screamed in pain and went down as the two bullets penetrated its head, the shotgun clattering to the ground.

“Man down, Flank him!”

The remaining Replica shouted out. It was at this point of time that the motion sensor lit up, indicating another incoming contact from behind him. John cursed. What was happening to him? Why had he left his flank uncovered and vulnerable?

He fired another two bursts, catching the Replica in the torso and forcing him to stagger a bit as the armor caught it. The next nine rounds lodged themselves firmly inside the Replica’s head, killing him instantly – but not before bringing his shields down to almost none. It was then that a course of pain shot through his shoulder as a HV spike hit his shields, bouncing off and draining them completely. He dived to his left, while several more spikes whizzed by the air where he had just been. He turned around mid-air as the gun moved to follow him. Raising the rifle, he squeezed the trigger and didn’t stop firing at the Replica. The bullet rounds hit the replica right in the chest, but it didn’t waver one bit as it continued to trace and fire at him. His shields managed to recharge a bit just as a spike struck his right leg, absorbing the impact but yet twisting it from the force. The next one went right between his feet, while he was just able to raise his left leg enough that it just scraped by his calf.

His own bullets, by now, had caused the Replica to stagger and the gun went wild, and he had gotten a headshot on it. Blood splattered from the exit wounds at the back of the Replica’s head, but it continued to fire, recovering from the stagger and swinging the gun back to face John. By this time he had already landed onto the floor and was just two feet away from the Replica. With blinding speed, John recovered, got up and kicked at the Replica’s hand just as it swung the rifle around. The HV Pentrator scattered as the hand holding it broke. John’s hand swung out to punch the replica with blinding speed – only to hit air as the Replica ducked and round-housed kicked John right in the stomach. With the shields still not recharged, John felt the force of the blow and grunted in pain as it hit his still tender injuries. The kick was hard, with strength. However, John replied back in kind and brought the butt of the battle rifle to smash the replica in the face.

He failed, however, when the Replica reacted with just as much speed and leaned to the side, just barely missing the rifle. However, it was at this time that John had regained his balance, allowing him to lash out against with his feet, this time doing a straight-up kick at the Replica’s chin. The Replica saw it coming, but was apperantly too injured to move quickly as its response suddenly slowed – probably from blood loss. This time he made contact, however, which was followed immediately by the satisfying snap of the Replica’s neck breaking. The lifeless body then slumped to the ground, leaving a heavily panting John as the last thing standing in the room.

Three replicas. Just three of them had fought him, with only one coming into hand-to-hand combat, yet this had probably been one of the hardest fight in his life. How many dozens of grunts had he torn apart by his own hands, not to mention the countless elites he’d have to battle hand-to-hand and come out victor…yet, he had fought only three of these on his own, and despite having won, it felt like he was more lucky than anything else, having caught the jump on them and then also critically injuring them first. The last replica had been crippled by the bullet wounds he had taken – having injuries far worse than the elite he had fought on the Ascendant Justice, where he had nearly died in a similarly pitched battle with a single elite commander. Yet, these were just basic grunts. If he went into a similar battle with the heavy armored replicas, John had no disillusions on who would win that battle.

Still, he considered the situation. It was quiet obvious his battle rifle wasn’t enough anymore. It barely penetrated through their armor, and anything short of a headshot didn’t even hurt them. Looking around, he saw the HV Penetrator lying on the floor nearby. Picking it up, John gawked as he felt how heavy it was for its size. He studied it from end to end and then removed the ammo clip. It was then he realized that most of the weight was coming from its ammo. Each spike probably weighed around a kilo each, with a total of twenty-five spikes per clip. He glanced at the extra ammo the Replica was carrying, and realized just how lucky he was. The replica had to have been carrying at least seventy five kilos of weight in ammunition alone…and yet his speed had been insanely fast.

Augmentation or not, this weapon was not ideal if he was going to be concentrated on moving fast – the weight would only serve to slow him down. Moving back to the other Replica, he picked up the rifle there and studied it. It was long and quite slim, with the ammo barrels being exactly that – two small, cylindrical barrels that were attached either side to a common mechanism that loaded the rounds straight into the rifle’s barrel. It was an efficient design, and kept the entire frame light and slim. He put away his own battle rifle and slung this one around his shoulder, taking as much ammo off the Replica as he could.

He then turned to the last Replica, the one with the shotgun. A small pool of blood had already begun to form around it’s head, somewhat indicative of the wounds that he had inflicted onto it. Walking over to it, he kneeled down next to it, taking a brief glance at the shield indicator in his HUD as it began to recharge.

That glance nearly cost him his life. He was about to reach for the shotgun and pick it up, when, suddenly, the Replica’s arm moved  at an unimaginable speed, raising the shotgun and pointing at directly at John’s chest. It’s visor was completely cracked from the bullets that had penetrated it, and for a brief moment, John could see cold, emotionless eyes as it stared right up at him. For that brief moment, another pair of eyes stared back at it, from inside John’s own head. He recognized instantly as death’s, much as it had earlier in the lift.

And then, the Replica fired at John’s chest, point blank.

The blast was completely and totally deafening at that range – much more so than any USNC shotgun, and the force completely drained his shields, and then hit his armor so hard that for several seconds, John couldn’t breathe as the sheer energy drove his half-ton armor backwards and onto his haunches.

Combat reflexes kicked in, and a foot smashed out, making contact with the Replica’s head and crushing it. The replica immediately went limp, now obviously dead. Struggling for breath, John sat back, leaning on his arms as he checked the damage report coming into his HUD. He had already taken significant damage to the armor when Alma had hit him earlier…but now the shotgun blast had only worsened it. His right lung had come very close to collapsing from the sheer intensity of the single blast.

What was more amazing, and shocking was that he obviously hadn’t expected that at all.

But then, when you kill your enemies, you normally expect them to stay dead, rather than just playing it. It was a mistake he could no longer afford to make. These Replicas were tricky bastards, and smart ones too. He would have to make sure to take special measures to ensure they were dead, next time around. However, he really wasn’t sure how much was enough – they were almost as bad as the flood – who were notoriously tough to kill. 

Getting up, he took the shotgun and emptied the replica’s ammo pouch. The shotgun was hefty and gave him a feeling of power that he didn’t get from most other weapons. Seeing it’s effects from the wrong end sort of re-enforced that feeling, perhaps. Either way, he pumped the barrel and ejected the spent cartridge, reloading the weapons and remaining shells. John shook his head and moved towards the door where the Replicas had come from. Something told him this was going to be a long, long detour.

[Singh]

The room beyond was similar to the other lab the Replicas had barricaded, except this time it seemed…different. Something had clearly been here, upturning tables to the left and right. The panel controlling the stasis field in the center had been smashed, as if someone had jumped onto or off from the panel. The silvery sphere lay at the center of the all the consoles, no longer held up by the anti-grav field that held the sphere in the other room. The lights were all out as well, save two on the far side of the room near the other door.

John withdrew the scope, and then cautiously creeped into the room, keeping half an eye on his motion sensor while the other scanning the room through whatever working infrared sensors in his helmet and HUD. It appeared to be clear, for the most part. However, John had learned the hard way that such silences ever lasted for long. Keeping an eye out, he quickly approached the center of the room, taking cover where necessary. Their was something here…yet John couldn’t quite pin it down. None of the scanners showed him anything, and there wasn’t anything hiding behind the tables or cover either. Whoever had been here had either vacated the premises, or had been killed. The lack of blood ruled out the latter possibility – as did the lack of burn or bullet marks. However, the former wasn’t very plausible as well – the Replicas in the previous room had already radioed his presence in. There should have been more Replicas on the way here, not less, and certainly not moving away.

There was something else to this…

Ambush? John thought to himself, quickly taking a look around and searching for possible ambush points. He was at the center of the room now, the center circle of consoles between him and the door on the far side. Crouching low, he kept the shotgun at standby, pointed at the door in case it opened and revealed someone. On either side of the main door, in the corners of the lab were two smaller rooms that had a slightly different door design. These were smaller, meant perhaps for engineers or the like. However, they were mostly clear, as the interior was visible through a transparent glass.

Slightly satisfied that the room was clear, John rounded the table, keeping a sharp eye out. A table had been overturned and placed on it’s side here; and someone had clearly taken cover in it. John was about to move past, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was on the floor, lodged between the table and the consoles and barely visible. He couldn’t make out the shape properly, save for the fact that a small green light was slowly blinking on it. John came to a stop and turned around, taking a step forwards to get a closer look.

Click.

The light suddenly changed color to red, and John could hear it as whatever it was suddenly triggered. Time seemed to slow as he watched the object jump up into the air and come right up to chest level. It was at that point of time that he got a clear look at the object. It was disc-like, yet significantly thick. On the sides and top he could see the tell-tale signs of high-explosive satchels and warning signs.

Oh shi-

John didn’t even have time to finish the thought, or to react in any appropriate manner other than to bring his left arm up to shield his visor. The proximity mine then lit up and exploded into a massive ball of flame. The heat and fragments hit him with full force, draining his shields completely and coming close to roasting him alive. The shockwave was immediately after and lifted the half-ton MJNOLNIR armor up and then skidded to a half several feet away.

The world blacked out in pain for several seconds as John was left on his back. And then his senses slowly began to recover, as did his HUD, which flickered on and off due to the stray heat. However, the armor was tough, and had withstood heat several degrees higher than what he had just experienced.

But that’s when your at your peak John thought, groaning internally as his vision slowly began to sharpen. He wiggled his toes and fingers, checking to see if everything was intact. The shotgun was still in his right arm, shockingly still intact despite the ordeal it had just gone through. The smell of smoke and burning metal filled his helmet as the explosion from the mine obviously ignited something flammable.

His vision finally cleared out enough that he could focus on his surroundings…or in this case, straight at the ceiling.

And this was when he saw it.

Had it not been for the fact that John had been trained to make out the optical camouflage that some of the Elites normally wore, he probably would have missed it…and it probably would have been a very fatal mistake. A form was present on the ceiling…a human form…yet, it seemed so incredibly inhuman that John would have probably mistaken it for a new covenant race.

However, in this case it probably wasn’t. The form had no weapons, and seemed to have some strange device attached onto its back. The mask it wore was stranger, far different from the ones that the other Replicas wore. It looked back at him through it, its eyes a pair of glowing blue beacons in the darkness.

Lightning suddenly flashed across the ceiling from the device on its back, and the camouflage shimmered as the forms suddenly let go, giving into gravity and dropping right towards him, arms outstretched. John reacted first however, raising up the shotgun and simply opening fire. That single action nearly caused his hand to sprain as a the cannon roared to life, deafening him in the process. The flash of the muzzle blast was enough to illuminate the ghostly shape as it descended downwards.

Another blast of electricity streaked outwards from the suit as the Shotgun blast met it. The Replica’s armor absorbed the hit completely, and the body veered out of course and collapsed to the side. John rolled to the side, pumping the shotgun as he did. He came up less than a second later, shotgun at the ready. He pointed it at the form as it staggered and rolled to the side. John was about to fire at it when his Motion sensor came alive, and alerted him to a fast-approaching object from the side. Before he could react, the silhouette of a foot came out of nowhere, moving much akin to a blur. It reached out and kicked the shotgun upwards just as John pulled the trigger.

He lost the grip on the shotgun as another blast roared out from the barrel, forcing downwards and out of his hands. It clattered to the ground with a loud clang as John instinctively did a back-flip with all his strength, somersaulting the half-ton armor up into the air and barely missing the other kick that plowed through the air where his midsection had been less than a second ago.

It was at this point of time that the fire suppression systems came online. The sprinklers in the ceiling activated, raining water all over the room just as John landed on his feet, some five or so feet away from where he had been standing just a second ago. He spread his legs to keep his balance, and surveyed the foes that now stalked him. John could see the silhouette of one of the Replicas, clearly outlined by the drops of water that now covered its armor. The other Replica slowly began to rise from the floor, and John noted the fact that the water at it’s feet was tainted with blood.

And then, the Camouflaged Replica’s armor flashed with lightning once more as several arcs made their way across the room and through the water, either to strike the wall, ceiling or a random droplet of water here or there. The camouflage then went off, revealing the Replica’s dark suit and armor, along with the mask. Behind it, another flash of lightning came up as yet one more Replica dropped down from the ceiling and onto the floor, joining the other two.

The entire room seemed to tense as both parties simply looked at the other, the water raining down endlessly. John checked the HUD and noticed that the shield was slowly starting to recharge…good, he was going to need it from the looks of things. None of the Replicas were armed, which also worked to his advantage. John tensed, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t armed either. Looking down, he saw that his rifle was on the floor right behind the Replicas, one of whom noticed him looking, and kicked it further away.

Each of the Replicas then tensed, bringing their arms up and getting ready to fight. They fanned out in different directions; the two uninjured ones moving to flank John on either side, while the injured one moved towards him menacingly. He could see the wound was still mostly fresh, and the Replica left behind a large trail of blood. John quickly weighed the odds here; tensing and bringing his arms up as well. The next few moments seem to slow; and stretch out as John’s reflexes caught up to the situation.

Hand-to-hand, SPARTANS were more than a match for any soldier short of a Hunter or Brute. He wasn’t as strong as an Elite, but made up for it with toughness and agility. However, these weren’t Elites, nor were they Brutes for that matter. John had no illusions - these three individuals that were now circling him could probably take on a Hunter unarmed and win. In this scenario, however, the odds were fairly even...except for one thing.

As John brought his fists up, he had one thought in his mind, one that had stayed with him since his childhood…the years of intensive training, the covenant invasion…all of it.

 I always win

Be it through determination, strength or luck alone, John would win this. There was no other outcome. There had to be no other outcome, for not only his sake, but for all those that were depending on him now. 

And then the moment passed, and the Replicas charged. They leaped through the air all at once, lashing out at John with either feet, arms or fists. John reacted instantly, battle-hardened reflexes keeping up as he leapt a full three feet straight upwards, tucking his legs in to avoid the sweeping kick from the Replica on the right. The one to his left had done a flying kick to his mid-section, which John managed to block by twisting mid air and grabbing onto the leg. As he came down, he twisted again with full force with the intent of smashing the Replica against the middle one. However, the middle one moved at a blur; smashing into John with the full force of it’s body. The force behind the leap was enough to push him off-balance and made him stagger backwards.

The replicas took their chance and the one to the right punched him square in the chest, his hand a blur of movement that John could simply not stop in time. The middle one recovered from the crash and rolled to the side, getting up and into a fighting stance almost immediately. John quickly lashed out at the Replica to the right with a kick to the shins and a punch towards the face. The first blow the Replica was unable to avoid, and John could hear the satisfying crunch of the bone breaking. But with a blur of movement, John’s punch to the face missed almost completely…and was returned as yet another blur moved towards his visor from the left.

His shields drained drastically as they struggled to absorb the blow of that punch, and John could see in the form of the hairline crack that they had failed at absorbing the entirety of the blow.

The Replica to the right had only been slowed down, however, and got up on it’s broken knee, ready to attack him again. At the same time as the left Replica, the middle one had launched yet another attack, this time attempting to sweep John’s legs out from underneath him using a roundhouse kick.

However, John was prepared for it – and even as he saw the visor crack and deftly blocked another blow with his left arm, he grabbed onto the leg with his right arm and then heaved, lifting the entire Replica with a painful grunt. He continued with the Replica’s swing, using his energy against him and swinging the body around like a giant club to hit the Replica on the right as it attempted to attack him from the side again. Both of them went reeling,

This came at a price, though. He had left his left side vulnerable, and hadn’t been able to catch the Replica’s kick in time, before it made contact with his mid-section and shattered ribs. There was no shield to stop the kick, nothing to dull the sharp burst of pain that coursed through his body and mind. John gritted his teeth as the water began to run over his helmet and visor…he could almost smell it now, seeping through the crack in the helmet.

His first reaction was to grab the leg that was planted in his mid section, and then with all his force, throw it aside. It would have worked…had it not been for the fact that the Replica was almost as strong as he was, and having seen what John did to its companions, was prepared for such a tactic.

The Replica used the energy of John’s throw to get its other foot off the ground and twist in mid-air, bringing about its other foot and leg to kick out at his helmet. John saw it coming, though, and managed to move his head back just enough for it to miss. That was until it brought the hell back and smashed it right into the visor.

The Visor was graded to survive significant impacts and to be bullet proof, which meant it managed to hold up against the blow pretty well. However, it had taken a massive beating till now, and wasn’t as strong…which meant it did the only thing it could: it cracked, blocking off his vision significantly.

The blow was enough to floor John as well, and he fell down onto his back. The world seemed to slow again as he dropped down and looked onto the ceiling. He couldn’t loose.

Not here. Not Now.

John struggled to get up, to move – to do anything. As he struggled, though, one of the Replicas placed a firm boot right on his chest, keeping him down. John attempted to make out which one it was through the cracked visor, but couldn’t. Rather, he went by feel alone, and grabbed the leg with both hands. He tried pushing it off with full force…and then found to his surprise that the foot actually moved easily. John quickly rolled to the side and was about to come to his feet when he realized what they had done.

They had waited for him to come up before striking him down again, as was witnessed by the fact that another kick moved at a blur. He tried to stop and catch it, and managed to succeed, holding the foot not 2 inches from his helmet. But before he could react, another leg came out of nowhere hit his chest plate.

The pain...it was overwhelming as it coursed through his body and mind; overloading the constant amount of morphine that was being injected into his bloodstream by now…and it soon escalated as another kick came out and hit him straight in the abdomen, smashing the broken ribs even further into his internal organs and forcing him onto his knees.

Yet, still, he remained persistent, struggling to come up to his feet, forever repeating in his mind the same four words. Not here…not now. John’s vision began to fade…either due to blood loss, or due to the sheer number of injuries he had taken. And then yet another blow came out, this time it knocked him flat onto his back.

Then John’s HUD started to flicker…as did all his electronics. A short burst of static came over his radio, and he could notice out of the corner of his eye that the lights began to flicker as well. All thoughts of what he needed to do, of how he needed to persevere faded from his mind as they reeled back in shock, horror and the truth of his situation. He began to slip into unconsciousness, the vision darkening around the edges and slowly making his way inwards.

He heard it first before he saw it. The soft giggle as it made its way through the air, passing not just through his filters, but through his mind and soul itself. It was then followed by yet another burst of static that sent shivers up and down his spine. Even through the cracks in the visor, John could see her face almost perfectly as she stared back at him, standing up on the ceiling. She giggled and laughed once more…before disappearing into a pile of ashes that slowly drifted to the ground.

The last thing John heard were the sound of his own screams before the darkness finally overwhelmed him.

[Singh]

The world as he knew it was no longer existed to John; for he was longer conscious to it, no longer caring. He floated in the darkness, welcoming its warm embrace, the safety that it offered. There was nothing here but him, and the freedom that came with ignorance…the joy that came with bliss. Floating in the darkness, he remembered nothing of the past or the events that had brought him here. Gone were the memories of the little girl that had tormented him till now, the truths revealed to him by the flood, the haunting eyes of death, which seemed to have kept their sight on him for so long.

No…this was his space, and his alone. It was the very core of his being, his very essence. There was peace here, because John did not need to think of the unpleasant memories, the horrible tasks he had had to perform till now. The only thought that filled his mind, body and soul at that moment was that he was free. He was finally free…

You were never free.

A voice boomed out in the darkness, shattering the illusion, shattering the silence. John watched in distress, as suddenly, the darkness suddenly disappeared and was replaced by a bright light. It grew brighter and brighter, and filled his mind, burning through to his soul, as it were. Memories flooded his consciousness as he tried to recognize the voice…it was so familiar…so warm. John had known the voice before…so long before. John remembered…it had given him warmth in some ways, and had rescued him more times that he could have recollected…but yet…the memory of who it exactly was stayed beyond his edges, as if being restrained by some unknown factor. Other memories soon overcame that one though, as John suddenly came to the recollection of how he had gotten to be here, the events that had transpired…the horrors he had just witnessed.

The voice spoke again – but this time in a harsh whisper.
 
None of us were ever free…causality beckons, John…it beckons to you now, as it does to us all…
 
Beckons me to do what?

John asked, in reply. There was too much going on, too many questions left unanswered. Annoyance filled his mind, and suddenly the world around him changed to fit it; the light began to change and shift in patterns of red and black as he continued to float freely. Looking down, John realized he now had a form, a body and hands. But he was not in the armor that had been wearing till now. It felt somewhat uncomfortable to suddenly just feel his body and skin without it – for in a sense, that armor had grown to be a second skin of sorts.

His attention was caught by something else suddenly. It was at the edge of his hearing – a low, sad tune that seemed to play constantly in the environment around him. John initially didn’t recognize the instruments being used, or the tune for that matter…all he knew was that it was beautiful, and it seemed to be coming from everywhere. The tune slowly changed, shifted to match his mind and mood, as did the colors around him. Was this…was this the sound that the Gravemind had mentioned earlier? The music of the soul; the symphony of life, the orchestra of eternity – was this how it sounded to the other being? And if this was just John’s own soul…what kind of mighty opera were the forerunners witness to?

Then the voice spoke again.

The most important questions that most of us never dare to ask is not what causality has in store for us…

What was John feeling here? Where was he…and what was the right question? If it was not what he was supposed to do…then perhaps..

Why?

John asked the voice. The music rose in pitch and intensity to match his sudden curiosity, and the world around him shifted in it’s color patterns as well. The voice did not respond immediately, however, and John was left floating, wondering about what had happened to him…was he dead? Had Alma finally managed to catch up to and defeat him, despite what Grave Mind had said?

His thoughts were interrupted, as the voice replied. The tone was low…calm and gentle. There was a warmth behind the voice that seemed to so familiar…yet so distant.

There are many things in life one must question...and then, there are things that one must not. One of these questions is something you have been asking yourself for most of your dangerous journey, as we did during ours, as he did during his. It is simply the question of why you are doing what you are doing...for your own sake, I beg...please, whatever happens, do not find that answer, lest you damn us all. Now go, John, and finish your purpose...and save your race.

A giant face appeared in the void above him, one of a woman. The memory that had been held back for so long was suddenly released, and it came back to him. John marveled at it for a second as he whispered the name of the woman that had not just looked after him, but the rest of his SPARTANS as well. From childhood to now, she had been there for them…always. At least…till she had disappeared what had been an eternity ago.

Dr. Halsey…

With that, the face faded away into fine mist that then disappeared into the background…and then into nothingness, leaving John drifting all alone. The music in the background slowly started to die out, as did the lights. It left John with one, last parting sentence.


Our songs still play on...and they shall do so forever. We’re waiting for you, John…everyone is waiting and counting on you…don’t let us down.

And then, suddenly, he began to fall as gravity seemed to return to him.

***

John 117 looked up into the dark ceiling above him, and could feel wetness on his nose and face. A moment later, he was rather fortunate enough to realize it was, in fact, just the water that had managed to seep through the cracks in his visor.

What…what did I just see? John asked himself; unsure whether what he had just seen, felt and heard had been just a dream, or whether it had been very real. Dr. Halsey…John thought back to when he had last seen her…before she had taken the ONI ship and Kelly, and then disappeared.

John closed his eyes, ignoring his surroundings for a moment as he continued to think about this new mystery. Had Death claimed Halsey and Kelly? Or was there something else at work here?

Their songs…they still play on… John thought, realizing that what Halsey had told him was probably a clue…one that Gravemind had provided him as well.

Had the doctor figured out the purpose of the crystal? Had she found some way to use it, in essence, making her soul immortal and transcending the body, perhaps? The questions continued to rack John’s brain as he finally opened his eyes. Then he remembered what Halsey had said about asking questions, and the types of questions did ask. What deep, dark secret had Halsey found, that seemed to have condemned her? What secret would John find that would condemn him and everyone else?

There was only one way to find out…but John was torn. Should he heel the warning given by the Doctor? Or should he continue with this sudden and strange new quest, this new desire for knowledge?

No.

John suppressed his curiosity. He already knew why he was doing this…he was doing it for Earth, for humanity. He had lives to save, and save them at all costs. But then…what about death?

The Relic. John thought to himself. The relic that Gravemind had mentioned…if it was indeed as valuable as thought…

His HUD slowly came online, and John got up after what felt like ages. There was absolutely no motion on his sensors, and a dead calm was present throughout the room – only interrupted by the occasional dripping of water from the fire extinguishers. Alma was not here, and neither were the Replicas, surprisingly. He surveyed the damage and the room. The most immediate, of course, was the crack in his helmet, which was blocking a significant of his vision. Though the cracks, he noticed that there was a significant change in the room…

Reaching up, John unfastened the helmet, which came loose with a loud hiss. He held it up in his hand, inspecting the damage. As he suspected, it was far, far worse from the outside – with a severe dent in the glass as well. However, the most shocking thing was not the condition of the helmet, but what was on it. As John lowered the helmet and looked around, and got the shock of his life.

There was blood everywhere. On the walls, the ceilings, all across the floor, on him – it was everywhere,. and the fact that the water now forced it to flow all over the room did not help one bit. Around him were three charred skeletons, all of which were still smoking to a significant degree. The room was in a complete mess – partially from the explosion, and partially from the resulting fight. Deciding not to hang around in the open and exposed, John moved towards one of the corner rooms, locking the door behind him as it closed. Sitting down on the ground, he slowly studied the helmet and the crack. He couldn’t afford to go out now – at least, not like this. The helmet was completely cracked, which meant that he had limited visibility with it on. However, with it off his shield system was incomplete, leaving him vulnerable to the next time Alma came to him – or the next time he went up against Replica forces. Sighing, he looked around for any tools he could use to possibly help him repair the glass, or perhaps remove the cracked pieces, at least. It would mean he had incomplete protection, but it was still better than none.

However, after a minute of searching, he found a solution to his problem; or rather, the solution found him. It came in the form of a small cry of alarm as John was rummaging through some of the small boxes on the table, and then moving onto one of the small cabinets to the side. The room was somewhat small, and was intended primarily as a storage facility with cabinets – a rarity considering the Covenant usually used the large purple containers instead.

He was opening the cabinets when one of them seemed stuck. Forcing it open, John was somewhat alarmed and surprised when a small creature jumped out screaming at him and then floated past him towards the door. John instantly recognized the gas-like bladders on its back, the amorphous shape and the many tentacles on the creature. This was one of the covenant’s engineer sub-races, and not exactly a threat. He watched as it attempted to override the lock, but failed. Looking back at the locker, John noticed it was in a significant mess, indicating the critter must have been trapped in here for a long time. He lowered the shotgun, though, and didn’t move as the engineer turned back and seemed to study him with unwavering eyes, and a focus that seemed creepy, in a sense.

How did you survive Alma? John thought, unsure how to act or respond to it. The last time he had encountered these creatures, Cortona had managed to communicate with it, and then get it to repair his armor. He knew from experience that these creatures were the only non-combat race amongst the Covenant, and preferred to examine and repair equipment

Perhaps this was the answer to his current problems?

Looking down, John slowly and carefully placed the cracked helmet on the nearby table, and then took a step away from it. He then looked at the engineer and pointed at the helmet. The engineer didn’t say a thing and moved forward slowly as it unsure what to do with this new toy. Then as it focused on the helmet, it seemed to loose all sight or care that John was there. The ends of the tentacle split into what seemed like a million, smaller (nearly microscopic) Cilia that suddenly seemed to take apart the shattered visor with ease – along with the rest of the helmet as well. The creature’s concentration was trance-like, in a sense, and John watched it a bit tepidly as, not seconds later, it drifted away from the helmet, leaving it nearly brand new, save for a few scratch marks that couldn’t be removed.

He raised an eyebrow as the Engineer now turned to him and focused its eyes on his armor. John didn’t stop it as it slowly approached, and instead de-activated the shield. The creature’s tentacles once again split into the cilia, and it began to work on his armor. He could feel a tingling sensation on his chest, and winced in pain as the engineer forced the severely mangled armor out of his chest and broken ribs. John watched in fascination as the engineer managed to do this with ease, lifting up pieces of the half-ton MJNOLNIR armor as if it was paper, and then splitting it up into smaller pieces before re-arranging them. It was smart and careful enough that it didn’t spill any of the liquid gel that was present in between the layers of the armor; instead sealing it carefully and even repairing leaks between sections.
 
John watched all of this somewhat curiously – the last time the engineer had worked on his armor, it had been on the damaged shield generator on his back, and he hadn’t had the opportunity to see much there. But now, as he stood absolutely still, he kept one eye on the engineer and the other out the glass window to keep a sharp eye out for hostiles.

Oddly, there were no replicas around, despite the explosion and the loss of contact with the ones that had been killed just now. Had Alma killed off the nearby ones? It could certainly be possible, and plausible, but John had no way to be sure.

After around two minutes, the engineer was finished as it placed back the breast plate on John’s chest and redid the seals surrounding it. Although still significantly dented, it was in much better shape than before, and he could breathe properly this time around. With that, the engineer chattered and began to float about aimlessly. It made a curious grab towards the shotgun, but John moved it away and slung it over his shoulder.

“Thanks.” John said as he reached for the helmet and put it on. Whether the engineer understood him or not didn’t matter – it had done its task, and now John had to do his. It snapped on, and the systems check came online. He got a green light from most of the systems; and the HUD came online.

After a second, the pre-checks completed, and John recalibrated his systems. The radio receiver immediately became active, though, and John cursed as he heard Replica voices come through.

“Command be advised that we have lost contact with the Perseus Soldiers. Should we move ahead and check the vicinity?”

“Negative Bravo 1. Maintain your position and stay alert. We believe the target might attempt to breach your position and get to the hostages.”

“Roger that Command, we’ll keep an eye out. Bravo 1 out.”


John’s mind immediately raced…hostages? Why would the Replicas – or death, for that matter – need hostages? Unless… a chill went down John’s spine as he considered the possibilities…Death was determined to get him at any cost – which meant anyone was fair game. Could it have pulled people that John knew, and then forced them into this scenario, in an attempt to get to him?

John was now faced with a somewhat difficult situation. On one hand, the entire world and his friends as he knew them were being held hostage by Gravemind, who simply demanded that John help him die, else follow through and consume everything. On the other…it was possible that Death itself was now holding the same people hostage…with the possibility of them all dying.

I hate lose-lose situations. John thought as he considered the scenario. It was a choice between the lesser of two evils, in a sense…stick with dying…or suffers a fate worse than death. Either which way one looked at it, humanity lost…unless…

John looked at the engineer, and then at the door. Checking his weapons, he nodded to himself, reminding himself why he was here, and what he had gone through till now. He always won – and this would be no exception.

Keying the lock, John opened the door and stepped out, shotgun at the ready. The engineer floated behind him, but John really didn’t care much for it anymore. He had a task to perform, and help or not, he couldn’t afford to be slowed down right now. Moving back to the skeletons, John checked around them for any ammunition or grenades, finding none he instead moved to the near where the exit was. A small storage container was present here, in a similar style to the lager ones, except that it was only waist high. Going down on one knee, John opened it to expose a variety of Covenant plasma weapons…and several grenades.

“Bingo.” He mouthed to himself, taking as many as he could hold and adding to the number that was on his belt now. If he was going to have any chance of doing this, he was going to need as many high explosives as possible.

With that, he got up and approached the exit. There were no walls next to it where he could hide – the entire area was open. So rather than go in unprepared, he slung the shotgun and took out the rifle – he was going to need range here, not firepower. He held the rifle in one hand, and then took a grenade in the other.

Taking a step forwards, he entered into the range of the doors, which opened immediately. Correspondingly, the words “Hostile Contact!” rang out over his radio as well as echoing in front of him. His mind immediately perceived the situation beyond. The room wasn’t very large – at least, near the entrance. The entire room was circular, widening out from the door he was standing at, and then narrowing down into what seemed like a service lift at the end. To either side of the room was a door leading elsewhere.

The room was largely empty, save for this, at least, this and a grand statue that adorned the center, and stretched from the floor to the ceiling. It was one of the Prophet of truth; seated in his ornate chair and with hands outstretched, as if praying to some deity above. A pair of ramps curved to either side of the statue and led up to a floor that was on a somewhat higher level. Scattered around were several containers that had been stacked or otherwise upturned, and behind which no less than a dozen Replicas took cover, weapons out and ready to fire. However, off to one side, John noticed that there was not one but two power armored Replicas – one to either side of the room. They stood out in the open, obviously intent on taking damage away from the Replicas under cover. The good news was that one was armed with just a shotgun, while the other a HV Penetrator. The Replicas were split up behind four containers. Two containers were nearby the door on the lower level, while the other two were at the top of the ramps and to either side of the statue.

The Replicas all held varying type of weapons…all of which were now trained at him and the Engineer form.

Suddenly, a bright blue beam originated from the crown of the statue; where John saw that one of the Replicas had hidden behind it. The beam struck out and missed his shield by millimeters…and then hit the engineer that was behind him. John watched in horror as it suddenly let out a sharp, hi-pitched cry before it vaporized into a fine, black mist, leaving behind nothing but a few charred bones.

He cursed and armed the grenade, throwing it out towards before jumping and taking a step back from the door. Shotgun shells, different calibers of bullets and HV spikes streaked out and filled the space where he had been less than a second ago. The doors closed immediately after, and John could hear the ping of bullets bouncing off. The explosion of the grenade rang out a second later, but John already knew it had been wasted – it had flown wild due to the way he had thrown it, and more than likely hit nothing. It died down a second later.

“Careful, he might be trying to flank. Keep the hostages secure!” he heard over the radio. Cursing, John realized that this wasn’t good – wasn’t good at all. He had around 15 Replicas in the room beyond; with at least two of them being heavy armored…and then there was that new weapon. He glanced at the charred remains of the engineer. Whatever had happened had killed it near-instantly, and in a fashion far deadlier than any plasma weapon. It couldn’t have been plasma-based, simply because the bones had been left intact while the flesh had been charred off. No…there was no way to actually get in short of breaking through with a tank.

A Tank… John thought, suddenly…he looked back at the entrance and exits and wondered…how had the Covenant managed to get two wraiths into such an internal storage facility? Considering the size of the doors and corridors, it wouldn’t have been possible to fit it in there at all…unless, there was another route available.

Doubling back, John jogged towards the entrance he had come from, and into the cargo bay where he had initially fought the other Replicas, and where the Wraith tank had been. Once he entered it, however, John paused. There was something…wrong about the scene. Something had changed…and dramatically so. He couldn’t pin it for a moment…and then, realized it.

The bodies – there were no dead bodies in the entire bay area. This was very; very odd considering that he had just killed three Replicas in this room just minutes ago. Either they had suddenly become alive, or...Gravemind had gotten to them.

John cursed and looked around, keeping a sharp eye on his motion sensor. The Shotgun was up instantly and he looked into the dark corners warily. Replicas were bad enough on their own…but as potential flood combat forms, they would be absolute nightmares to deal with.

The lighting was not very bright in the room, and cast a lot of dark shadows on the ceiling. Spotting a small, illuminated control panel in the corner behind the Wraith tank, John moved towards it cautiously, making sure to check the motion sensor and go around the tank with his shotgun out. Somewhat satisfied that it was clear, he turned to the console, and studied the symbols. Again, the strangeness and the familiarity struck out to him, as it had for most consoles like this. Reaching out, John watched as his hands moved instinctively over the console, activating it.

Immediately several ceiling lights came on, illuminating the whole room. He looked up to see that, as he had suspected, the ceiling had a significantly sized hole in it – and was in fact, a false one. A catwalk was present all along the sides of the hole, and seemed to end in a large door just above the one on his current level. A low humming sound of machinery and equipment coming online reached his ears, and a ray of light emerged from the blue color hole, touching the ground in the center of the room. John instantly recognized it as a gravity beam and lift.

So that’s how they got the tanks in here. The lift must lead to a central storage or common exit… It was a point that John noted for later. Such a facility might have some use for later. He stepped away from the console, and headed to the center of the room. Looking up at the hollow beam, he wondered whether it would take him all the way, or just to the catwalk.

Either way…it’s the only route from here. John thought to himself, before taking a step into it. After around a second, the lift’s effects took hold, and he suddenly became weightless; floating up slowly to the upper catwalk. The gravity lift’s effect then stopped here, and John was able to step onto a ledge that led onto the narrow catwalk. There was a control panel on the railing – which he again used to this time shut down the lift. The lights went off, and John then proceeded to make his way around the room, and to the door on the far side. Less than thirty seconds later, he was already at it. He stood against the wall, and snaked the optical scope around the door to take a look.

The doors opened to reveal a significantly different room than the one below. Where the one downstairs had been a lab, this one was more of a control facility. Around the same size as the one below, the room was split into three levels, similar to a bridge structure. The lower most level ran around the room and was square-shaped, with the upper levels rising around six inches from the one below to form something akin to a ziggurat-like structure. Consoles lined the walls on the lowest level, while at the other end; there was a glass window that showed a view of the next room and the prophet’s statue.

The topmost level (and hence the smallest) in the room was around two feet above the ground, and had a ramp leading from it to the lowest levels in all four directions. The three levels between it and the bottom all had various types of consoles and controls in it, all of which were deactivated. John realized that this was probably an auxillary bridge of sorts, should the main one somehow be incapacitated. But judging from the dust around the place, it hadn’t been used for some time. There was a small door at the far end, between the wall and the window, which probably led out to a small balcony, perhaps.

He zoomed in to the window – which was as the same level as the ‘crown’ of the statue. Looking carefully, he was able to make out the sniper that was sitting there and keeping watch on the door below. Good. If the sniper was distracted – or even better, if the window was one-way, that meant that John had a chance to fight them from up here. He withdrew the scope and then crouched down. He slowly walked across the room, making sure to duck behind the consoles. The Replica didn’t seem to see him, which was good. He quietly sneaked around the bridge and under cover, till he was finally crouched down just underneath the window. Snaking the optical wire up, John tried to angle it downwards to see where the Replicas were. He spotted them in the same positions as before, but keeping an alert stance.

John mentally ran through his options, and then came with a plan of attack. It would be risky, but right now it was practically his only option. Sighing, he shook his head and withdrew the scope. Slinging the shotgun, he took out the rifle and switched off the safety. With his other hand, he took out two grenades, and placed them on the ground next to him. John then held the rifle in both hands and counted to three before quickly jumping up and taking aim at the Replica sniper’s head.

The Replica, to his credit, despite being focused on the rifle and the door below, noticed John appear out of the corner of his eye, and looked up to notice him.


“Hostile spo - EEARGH”

The Replica didn’t have time to finish his sentence as John opened fire at full auto, shattering the glass completely and killing the Replica instantly. He fired one shot off in a vain attempt to hit john, but it went wide, the blue beam leaving a scorch mark on the ceiling instead. John then heard the retorts from below.

“****!! Sniper down – he’s flanking from above!”

John didn’t give them a chance to react; and instead dropped the rifle. He scooped up either grenade in his hand, and then going by memory alone, throw them out the window.

“****! Incoming grenade, take cover!”

Ducking past the window, John picked up the rifle and then got up. He spotted the Replicas as they dived for cover – however, for one it was too late, as a plasma grenade had stuck right onto his chest. He screamed out in pain as the plasma burned through his armor…and then it was suddenly cut off as the grenade exploded and vaporized him instantly. The second grenade then exploded as well, but it did little or no damage. However, all this time, he didn’t remain still. Raising the rifle, he opened up in three-round bursts against the replicas on the right side of the statue. The bullets impacted on their armor and drove one of them to take cover behind the statue, while the other spotted him and opened fire with a HV Penetrator.

The spikes flew upwards, some of them whizzing by just centimeters past John’s helmet before burying themselves into the ceiling. But John didn’t relent; he swung the rifle around and opened fire at the Replica shooting at him. Keeping the gun steady despite the recoil, John watched as the Replica took several hits and staggered a bit. He continued to fire at John, however, and forced the latter to duck when a HV spike grazed pass his head, and drained a significant percentage of his shields.

“We’ve got three men down! We need suppressing Fire!”

The call rang out, and almost immediately the space where John had been standing was filled with a significant amount of lead – more than enough to overload his shields easily. Breathing hard, John sat down underneath the window, quickly reloading his rifle and waiting. The fire didn’t end, and his options were severely limited right now. He’d only managed to take out three Replicas out of fifteen – leaving exactly a dozen more, two of whom were the heavy power armored type.

There had to be some way to get out of this. Looking around, John finally found it in the form of an open weapons locker in the far corner of the room. It was what was inside the locker that was of particular interest to John, however. Glowing a bright green in color, was the large, familiar shape of a shoulder-mounted Covenant fuel rod gun. He had to get to it – one way or the other.

It was then that the suppressive fire suddenly stopped. Looking up, John was about to move when he heard a soft click come from outside, along with a single, loud cry:

“Die ************!” [/b]

With that, John could feel a slight shadow as a small object flew through the air above him. He didn’t think, he just moved, running as fast as he could along the wall and as far away from the grenade as possible. John had made it all the way to the nearby corner of the room when the grenade exploded – fortunately it did so on the other side of the throne, which took in most of the blast. Still, the explosion was deafening enough to cause a definite ringing in his ears. Before John could get up however, he heard two more clicks. Looking back, he watched as two more grenades suddenly appeared through the window and exploded in mid-air.

The shockwave hit him less than a half a second later, and John was completely deafened by the explosion. He didn’t hear what the Replicas said next, but rather let instinct guide him. Recovering from the shockwave, he ignored the next three grenades that appeared through the window, and instead got onto his knees, before launching himself for a straight run to the locker. Even as the shockwave hit, John compensated by leaning into it and just kept on running. By this time he could hear nothing but the loud ringing. Although his filters had kicked in to stop the sound, it still reverberated through his helmet and was deafening from the raw power alone.

Grabbing the Fuel Rod gun, John did a quick check before placing it on his shoulders and looking back.

There was nothing left intact in the control room – every display, every control panel had been damaged to some extent by the sheer number of grenades that had been thrown into the area just seconds ago. The only remotely intact place was in the side that John was standing – and that was only because the window didn’t extent all the way in this direction.

John could still only hear the ringing when he turned back and headed to the window, this time determined to do some damage. He saw the radio channels open and close on his HUD, but couldn’t hear what the Replicas were saying – not that he cared anyway. He didn’t go to the window this time, though, and instead went straight to the Balcony. The door slid open into the left wall, exposing the large statue in front of him, and the Replicas below. The balcony was more of a narrow ledge with little railing than anything else. It left him somewhat exposed to incoming fire…but yet at the same time gave him a significant view of everyone below.

First priority was to neutralize the more numerous replicas – especially those behind the cover. They noticed him and shouted something – again, John didn’t hear what. He didn’t wait, however, and immediately took aim and squeezed the trigger. A bright green bolt exploded out from the Fuel rod cannon, and then arced through the air, leaving behind a green trail of burning plasma as it crashed into the upper encampment of Replicas to the left of the statue, vaporizing all three that had taken cover there nearly instantly. He then turned to the right and fired another blast – annihilating the lone Replica that had hidden behind the box, and the injuring the one that had been hiding behind the statue. Checking the ammo count, John realized he had just two more shots – but by this time he was taking incoming fire too.

Bullets pinged off his shields, and a HV spike whizzed by in front of the helmet. John immediately ducked and rolled across the Balcony, using the limited cover of the ledge to protect him. Spikes buried themselves in the ledge, however, and John could feel their tips protruding through the relatively thin material. Coming up, he didn’t waste time, though, and opened fire at the lower left group – unfortunately they had seen his heavy weaponry and had already scattered. The blast only caught one of the Replicas, which went down. He still couldn’t hear anything when he pressed the trigger for the last time and caught another two Replicas in the blast. At this point of time John threw the cannon down at one of the Replicas to the right, forcing him to duck. He used the opportunity to take a grenade in either hand, which he then threw at a Replica each. By this time, his shield was dangerously low, and the HV spikes were about to penetrate them and the armor.

One of them landed right behind two of the lower tier Replicas, and exploded before they could get a chance to move or react, killing both. That left, surprisingly, just one Replica to his right, and the two heavy armor suits to either side. Rolling across the balcony to avoid a shotgun blast, John dived back into cover as his shields died out completely by now. Fortunately, the ringing in his ears finally died down enough for him to hear as the Replica shouted into the radio.

“****, he’s too fast! He just went through the entire squad! We need heavy re-enforcements!”

Taking some satisfaction that most of his work was complete; John considered what to do next. He still had two of the power armored replicas to deal with – both of which would be extremely tough to take down – especially the one armed with the shotgun. He would need a separate plan to take those down, but he was unfortunately completely out of heavy weaponry or explosives.

We’ll just have to do this the hard way then. John thought to himself as he unslung the shotgun and cradled it in his hands…there would have to be another way of doing this. Another plan began to form in his mind…this one far crazier than the last. The last had only worked thanks to surprise, and his heavy weaponry, not to mention incredible amounts of luck…this one would need even more luck to work…and would be extremely difficult to pull off, especially considering that he might not survive the initial stage, thanks to his injuries.

Only one way to find out…

John thought to himself. Looking around, he found the rifle he had been wielding earlier, which had been blown to the window area. It still seemed intact, though, and as he examined it, he was somewhat relieved that it worked. He held it up in one hand, while holding the shotgun in the other.

Leaning back against the wall beneath the window, John sat there for a few seconds and waited for his shields to recharge. He would have only one shot at this, and it was better if he went with all the protection he could get.

Once they recharged, John immediately got up and in one, smooth motion he dived out the window and onto the ledge. Time seemed to slow as he took in the positions of the various forces. The lone Replica had taken cover behind the statue, while the two power armored replicas were flanking him to either side. On his left was the Replica with the shotgun, while to his right was the one with the HV Penetrator.

He made the split-second decision required, and then leapt off the ledge and to the right. John twisted in mid-air, however, as military reflexes kicked in and his brain automatically sighted up both the rifle and the shotgun at the power armor on the left side, and then fired. But the Replica’s instincts were just as good, and John could feel the blast of the shotgun shells as it impacted against his shields and armor. And then, he felt another Impact hit his side as a penetrator round impacted, nearly draining his shield completely. Cursing, John emptied the clip at the target completely, while at the same time crossed his arm with the shotgun to aim at the Replica he was now closing distance with. The drop had been at least 5 meters, and only 3 seconds had passed since he jumped, leaving him not one meter from the Armor Replica now.

As soon as he heard the click of the rifle’s chamber going empty, he dropped it, and with blinding speed pumped the shotgun, lining it up with the power armor’s head as the Half-ton MJNOLNIR armor then impacted against the Replica at 50m/s. A blast could be heard, along with an inhuman roar from the Replica as it went down. However, it certainly wasn’t dead by any long shot. Even as John rolled off and onto the ground, he suppressed the sudden surge of pain in his gut, and raised the shotgun again, ejecting the next shell and then opening fire right into the Replica’s head again as it tried to get up.

This time, the roar was louder as the Replica writhed once, twice and then died out. John didn’t have time to think or celebrate this minor victory, however, as a shotgun blast hit him in the side, driving him onto his haunches as the other powered armor replica crouched down and opened fire at John as the latter stood over its dead companion.

Raising his own shotgun, John opened fire at the replica, throwing off its aim just enough to miss him as he dived behind one of the boxes the other Replicas had been using not seconds ago. Taking cover, John ducked and ejected the shell inside the shotgun before realizing it was empty. He was about to reload it when he spotted some in the corner of his eye…something black and metallic, which had several blue displays to one side, and the words ‘Type 7 Particle Beam’ in scripted onto the side.

John instantly recognized it as the sniper rifle that the other Replica had tried to use against him. It was just three feet or so outside his cover, and was clearly operational. Realizing it was his best shot right now, John waited a few seconds as the shields recharged a bit, before suddenly getting up and making a mad dash to the rifle. He crossed the three feet in a single leap, which landed him right next to the rifle. Scooping it up, his hands immediately found the trigger and the handle. It was rather different in the way it was held, and had an unusually heavy weight for its size. Still, he raised the rifle and pointed it at the powered armor Replica. Even as he did so, however, the muzzle flash from the Replica’s shotgun blinded him and suddenly he felt a double echo as a shotgun blast from behind hit him at the same time as the one in front. His shields drained completely, leaving nothing. Realizing that it was in his best interest to get moving, John fired off one salvo at the replica in front of him.

The beam lanced out and made contact with the replica, which then screamed in pain, but did not go down. An odd blue flame began to rise from the Replica’s body, though. The rifle clicked as the battery seemed to either switch, or recharge – John couldn’t exactly be sure which – and pressing the trigger again was useless. Cursing, he rolled to the side, still in a prone position as a shotgun blast from behind destroyed a part of the ground that he had been on less than a second ago. The heavy armored Replica in front of him staggered, fortunately, and it’s next shot went wild. By the time John came right side up, the rifle was ready to fire, which he did again, this time hitting the Replica in the head.

It let out a massive, inhuman roar which died out into a gargle before it lurched and fell backwards with a massive thump. But John didn’t have time to react, however, as he rolled again and barely missed another shot by the last surviving Replica behind him. However, when he came up and looked back, all he could see was a foot sticking out from behind the statue, which quickly disappeared into retreating footsteps as the last Replica made an expeditious retreat.

Getting up, John looked around the room as he panted heavily, exhausted from what had just happened. He realized that – from start to finish – he had survived yet another battle, and a close encounter with Death through nothing but sheer luck alone. Had it not been for that Engineer repairing his armor…or indeed, the fuel rod gun or the sniper rifle, there was a good chance he would have been dead by now.

As he walked up the ramps, John passed by a few bodies of the Replicas. After checking to make sure they were dead, he looked at them cautiously. These foes…they were tough…just too tough. And who knew what Death was planning?

Walking up the ramp and reaching the higher level, John looked around. The center just had a circular symbol imprinted on the ground, but otherwise there was nothing to note…save for the loud banging noise coming from the right door. Looking towards it, John brought up the sniper rifle, ready to attack in case there were more Replicas.

But there was something odd…something entirely different about this. The doors weren’t opening at all – despite the fact that there was someone on the other side, clearly banging on them.

John made up his mind and approached it cautiously, keeping an eye out on the main elevator and the other exit in case the one that retreated showed up with more re-enforcements. There was a console next to the door, which seemed to be lit up in red. Waving his hands over it, John manipulated the controls for a second…and then the doors suddenly unlocked, and opened. The first thing that John saw was actually the second most obvious thing in the room. It was the severely injured woman that was sitting against the wall, wearing a similar uniform the soldier had been wearing – probably from the F.E.A.R. Team. The dog-tag around the woman’s neck read the words ‘Jin Sun-Kwon’. She looked at him with a slightly weak smile and spoke. “About time we got some rescue…”

However, John ignored her completely as the next thing he saw was the absolute last thing he had expected on the forerunner ship. It was the clear reflection of his own armor in the visor of the equally surprised, and equally shocked SPARTAN that John knew as Kelly – 087.

[Singh]

The corridor was long, dark and almost completely bathed in blood. It was everywhere; on the floor, the walls and even the ceilings. As gruesome sight as this may have been, it was nothing compared to the still-smoldering skeletons that were littered to either side of the corridor. Many of them lay in positions indicative of great pain just before death. The blood seemed to run so deep however, that parts of the skeletons were submerged beneath it.

Despite being a shocking sight, the figure that ran through the blood and leaped over the skeletons now had no time to be shocked or in any way affected by it. As he landed, Sadhal grunted in pain as his ribs seemed to break even further. He only took note of the remains in the fact that they might have been one of Alma’s victims the first time she tried coming up here. Other than that, though, they were just in his way.

But rather than move them though, Sadhal just vaulted over the bones as he reached the far intersection and then turned right. He then stopped, panting heavily from the stress of running so far, and leaning against the wall as his body protested the rough treatment it had been given thus far.

That thing…its just too persistant.

Sadhal thought to himself in between his pants. After a few seconds, his breathing came under control, and the pain subsided. Sadhal couldn’t help but feel a significant amount of fear and apprehension. That creature had been chasing him all the way since the bridge, and it hadn’t looked like it was giving up at all. Despite nearly emptying his entire plasma cell at it, the creature just did not give up! It seemed nearly invulnerable against any weapons he had used thus far, and no matter what he had tried, it seemed to have his scent or something similar, as it seemed to be able to follow him with no problems at all…at least, till now.

Rather than move on though, he quickly flattened himself on the wall and took a quick glance around the corner. It was still empty – good.

Did I loose it? Sadhal thought to himself, and was about to move on when he heard a loud thud coming from the corridor behind him. His heart seemed skip a beat as fear overcame him and he looked back around the corner as a second thud suddenly came from the other side of the remains. Standing at the end of the corridor, clear as day was the creature – no the monstrosity that had had been chasing him from the bridge. It looked at him with the same white eyes as it let out a roar and raised it’s rocket launcher onto it’s shoulders.

Sadhal could only curse and then leap away from the intersection as the rocket fired, streaking down the corridor and impacting against the wall in a fiery explosion. Flame filled the intersection for a second, and like on the bridge, Sadhal didn’t have the chance to get very far from it. The shockwave from the blast hit less than a second later, lifting him off his feet and depositing him face-first onto the floor around three meters away.  Courses of pain shot through Sadhal’s body, while he could feel the bitter taste of blood fill his mouth. Spitting it out, he quickly came up, somewhat surprised to find that the plasma rifle in his hand had skittered some distance away.

Groaning in pain, Sadhal didn’t glance or look back. He could hear the loud footsteps as the monstrosity ran across the hallway and the blood, ignoring the remains almost completely.

I need to get out of here. Sadhal thought to himself as he looked down the corridor. There was a small junction of doors at the end of it - perhaps less than fifteen meters away. If he could reach it and then lock the doors, there was a chance he could escape. Reviewing what he knew of the deck layout, the door onto his left would lead down to the auxiliary elevator and localized armory, while the ones on the center to the central cargo bay. The one to the right was what he was looking for, however, as that would lead not only to the medical bay, but to the ramps as well. The route to the armory was nearest at around seven meters distant, and was probably the most logical. However, he knew that there wasn’t much in these armories that could combat a rocket launcher – especially on such a being. That and it was a dead end so it really wasn’t much of an option in any case. The one to the ramps were just 12 meters away, though, so it wasn’t very much further away.

Making his decision, Sadhal decided to make a run for it. However, even as his feet went into motion, he could feel it was too late. Time seemed to slow as he glanced back to both see the monstrosity landing at the intersection, and crushing the plasma rifle that lay there. Super-hot plasma leaked from it’s battery, but the monstrosity either didn’t feel it, or ignored the pain as  it turned to face him.

Ten meters. He was just ten meters from the right door, and five from the left. Any healthy human being was capable of running this in a second – and Sadhal was more than just a human. However, he was injured – and he didn’t even have more than a second.

He took another three steps. The distance was now down to eight and three meters respectively…yet, Sadhal knew he wouldn’t make it as the monstrosity roared once more, before bringing the Rocket Launcher up, taking aim at him.

Another two steps, and he could hear the loud click as the monstrosity pulled the trigger. It was shortly followed by the loud explosion-like sound of the rocket activating in the chamber. Sadhal’s instincts kicked in after this, and he immediately made a running leap for the floor.

The Shields flared once while the rocket’s exhaust threw a blast of heat onto his back. It streaked past just above him, missing his back by inches. The missile impacted against the far door, denting and jamming it while pieces of debris filled the corridor and space just above him. His instincts kicked in again as Sadhal heard a slightly different noise come from behind him. Without questioning it, he rolled right into the left niche of the corridor…just in time to miss the monstrosity landing right next to him, and giving a massive punch to the floor where he had been less than half as second ago. The monstrosity roared in pain, raising its-now smashed hand.

Sadhal didn’t stop to watch as it reformed – there was no time for that. Instead, he continued the roll and went right through the now-open doors before coming up onto his feet. The control panel for the doors was right next to him as he got up, and Sadhal hit the mechanism for locking it. The Monstrosity noticed this and got up, moving towards the doors as they shut. Before they could close, however, Sadhal watched in shock and horror as it caught the upper two edges, holding it open with all it’s might. He took a step back as it stared at him with white eyes and then slowly began to push the upper two sections back into the wall.

By the prophets…wont thing this ever give up! Sadhal could only curse as he looked around the room for a means of escape. The room was a large sanctuary, filled with plants and a natural environment. This was not what he was looking for, however – more specifically, he was looking for the large door that was at the other end of all of this, nearly fifteen meters away and heading to the armory. Glancing back at the now almost open door and monstrosity, he tensed his legs and summoned up the last of his energy reserves…before starting a full-out run for the far door. He panted heavily as he did so, jumping over plants and dodging the trees on his way. When he was half-way there, he heard a loud explosion from the door behind him – one that he recognized belonging to the door control systems giving way. He quickened his pace, burning up whatever he had left of the adrenaline rush to make it towards the door in front before the monstrosity behind him caught up.

The door quickly began to come closer and closer and Sadhal realized he had to slow down – lest he bang into the door before it opened. Reaching a hand out to the doorway’s edge, he used his speed and grip to make a gut-wrenching turn to the left just as he entered the armory. He slammed against the wall and was about to fall back when an arm grabbed onto the control panel and he managed to regain his balance. He didn’t look through the door, but this time just concentrated on the panel; his hands moving like a blur over the symbols as he programmed the door to lock. Once he was done, he looked as the monstrosity ran across the field, knocking down trees and pushing aside everything as he thundered towards Sadhal’s position.

“Come on..come on, close already!” Sadhal muttered to himself as he watched the doors slowly moved together. The monstrosity made a running leap towards the door – its hands outstretched and intent on catching them before they closed. Time seemed to slow as the doors raced to close before it approached. Then, at the very last second the doors seemed to surge, and they shut completely. A loud bang could be heard from the other side as the creature crashed into it with full force, causing a visible dent in the door structure. It held however – and continued to hold as the monstrosity seemed to recover, and then began to ferociously bang against the door with both fists. Sadhal took a step back from it and breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe…for now at least. But he didn’t have much time – soon, either the door would give or it would use the rocket launcher to force it’s way in, and in both cases Sadhal really didn’t stand a chance.

Definitely need weapons. Sadhal thought to himself as he turned around to look at the rest of the room. It was completely dark, with the only light source coming from the control panel near him, and another along a nearby wall. Moving towards it, Sadhal checked the controls and then manipulated it, turning on the armory’s lights.

The room suddenly lit up, blinding him partially as several rows of lights came on to reveal the contents of the armory. Mostly just a large storage area, the armory would be full of several rows and columns of weapons containers, holding everything from plasma pistols to fuel rod guns and grenades. However, right now either this armory had never been stocked properly, or it had been low-prioritized, as their were only a few sparse containers scattered about near the far wall. The large purple containers were used to store most of the Covenant’s supplies, and currently numbered around five in total. Making his way to them, Sadhal started opening them, starting from the one nearest to the right wall. The banging on the door remained constant, but it seemed like it would hold for now.

Looking at the first container, Sadhal reached around the side and looked for its control panel. Finding it a second later, he keyed in the standard combination, and the container’s exterior panel hissed before it came lose. Grabbing it, Sadhal threw it aside to reveal a container full of medical items. He smiled to himself. Now this was a stroke of luck, to say the least! Most of the Covenant forces rarely used medical items and kits, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t use them at all. It was always handy to keep a few spare in case a senior commander was in need of medical attention – even if Covenant medical technology wasn’t up to par with the humans.

Taking one of the kits, Sadhal sat down next to the container. He then opened it to reveal the two things he needed the most: painkillers and boosters. The painkillers were straightforward enough, but the boosters were a bit more complex in the sense that they were primarily geared to speeding up the healing process, depending on the species they were used on. Sadhal was in some luck that these kits were primarily meant for Elites. An injection device was placed next to both, and Sadhal quickly took it, filling its container with the blue substance of the painkiller first. Sadhal glanced at the door before nodding. He still had time for now.

Sadhal deactivated his shields before taking off his helmet and placing it onto the floor next to him. Then, carefully holding the needle next to his neck, he grimaced slightly as the needle penetrated the skin and then pulled the trigger. The pain immediately vanished, however, as the medicine took immediate effect. Pulling it out, Sadhal quickly refilled it with the other substance and injected the medicine into the other side of his neck. This time he didn’t feel the pain at all as he pulled the trigger, and felt the substance fill his blood vessels.

The effects wouldn’t take place instantly, but they would show up soon enough. Already, Sadhal could feel slightly less exhausted as the pain in his stomach and chest began to fade away. Sighing, he looked at the door again – this time the banging had stopped. Realizing that this was probably not good, Sadhal quickly closed the kit and moved on to the next container.

Opening the second container revealed several racks of Needlers. While not the weapon he would have desired, it was still better than nothing. Sadhal took one off the rack before moving to the next container.

The third container didn’t hold anything better either. My luck seems to be dying out. Sadhal thought to himself as he viewed the three racks of plasma pistols. Picking up one, he frowned a bi as he realized there was no charge. Picking up one or two others revealed the same thing – none of the pistols here were charged, making them somewhat useless.

If I find whomever packed these crates, their going to die a very slow and painful death. Sadhal cursed as he moved onto the third one.

This one was a bit more full, unlike the others. It held two Covenant carbines in it, along with two brute plasma rifles. Smiling, Sadhal dropped the Needler and picked up one of the carbines, along with two of the rifles. Slinging them onto his back, he stole a quick glance to the door – it hadn’t been knocked in by the rocket launcher yet, so he took this as a good sign. But he didn’t waste it, either, and instead proceeded to open the fourth container to reveal…nothing.

Once more cursing whomever had packed all of this, Sadhal moved onto the last and final container. Reaching along the side, he found the control panel and then began to open it. The panel slid off, as expected – but the weapons it held were the last things that Sadhal had expected to see – especially on a ship full of brutes.

Nested within the racks of the container were the hilts of four plasma swords. They reflected the light with a purple sheen that stood out from the colors of the container’s insides. Sadhal placed the Carbine onto the floor before reaching into the container and slowly withdrawing one of the heavy sword handles. Holding it up, Sadhal activated the triggers that were built into the handle, and blue-white blade of plasma immediately came to life. The blade seemed to glow with the energy of the plasma, and Sadhal could feel the magnetic field of the sword interact with that of his shield.

Swinging it through the air, he could hear the low hum of the sword as quite literally cut through it. The sword had been one of the Elite’s signature weapons to date – somewhat heavy, It was too complicated for usage by the Grunts, while the Brute’s fists were too large to use them; making them ideal either for the Elites…or alternatively, even the humans. Sadhal had never seen the Demon actually use one of these swords, but knew that he was certainly capable of it.

What Sadhal knew even better, however, was the effect that these swords would have on unarmored flesh and blood. It would be more than enough to deal with the thing that was now chasing him.

Speaking of which… Sadhal looked towards the door and nodded to himself. He took off the plasma rifle and then slung the carbine on his back. The doors hadn’t been breached yet – which meant that either the thing had left, or it was up to something. Wielding the plasma sword in his right hand, Sadhal moved cautiously towards the door. His mind was made up: there was nowhere else to run, nowhere else to hide. The only way out now was to fight his way out. Sadhal smiled; it was time to fight as he had been trained to since the day of his birth.

No more running.

Sadhal thought as he stepped towards the control panel for the door. However, he didn’t get to think – or even react – before he heard a loud click that reverberated from the other side of the door, and echoed in the room. It was followed almost immediately after by a massive explosion from the door that forced Sadhal onto his haunches. His sword dropped onto the floor; emitting a loud humming sound as the plasma blade clattered onto the floor just a few feet away. His carbine fell to the floor next to him. As he looked up towards the flaming remains of the door, however, his blood ran cold. Standing there in the middle of the wreckage was Monstrosity – which was now staring right at him. It let out a low growl, and then slowly aimed its rocket launcher at Sadhal’s direction.

Battle instincts took over as, in one smooth motion; Sadhal picked up the Carbine, brought it up, and then squeezed the trigger. It was just in time as he heard another short click and the rocket streaked out of the launcher towards him. Sadhal wasn’t sure what happened next, however. Either he was more skilled than he thought, or just plain lucky as the Carbine’s round also streaked across the air and met the rocket dead-on, not ten feet in front of him.

The explosion drove him back, but he had already been braced against the floor, so it didn’t affect him that much. However, as the smoke cleared he found that the blast had been close enough to completely peel back the Rocket Launcher’s exterior. The Monstrosity looked at it, looked at Sadhal, and then back at the Rocket Launcher. It just shook it’s arm, dropping the now-useless weapon onto the ground and revealing its grossly swollen hands. What was most disturbing, however, was the fact that there were no fingers on it at all – instead in their place were small, prehensile tentacles that writhed with a will of their own. If he looked carefully enough, Sadhal could still see the stubs of where the fingers had once been. He could only theorize what happened to them; especially after the many times that the thing had crushed its hand against either the wall, or the floor.

The Sword Sadhal thought to himself, glancing to where the sword was. It was then that both beings moved simultaneously. The creature began to immediately run towards Sadhal in giant leaps and bounds as, at the same time, he rolled to one side and reached out for the Plasma sword. Less than two seconds later, he was up with the sword in one hand and in a combat stance; prepared for the creature’s charge. It was still five feet away, but it covered the distance so fast, Sadhal had barely enough time to dodge to the right before the thing’s fist came down where his head had been only to miss air. Using this opportunity, however, Sadhal immediately twisted mid-leap and brought the sword up to where the creature’s hand was.

Superheated plasma met flesh and armor. Flesh gave way, and the sword cut cleanly through the thing’s hand – cutting it off at the wrist. The plasma was so hot that it cauterized the flesh as it went through, leaving it smoking as what blood was on the outside vaporized.

The thing looked at it and roared in pain, taking a step back. However, it was slowed only for a second as it took another step back and looked at Sadhal. This time there was something behind those eyes…something different. Sadhal couldn’t tell what exactly it was – all he knew was that it was bad

Sadhal went low into another combat stance. Combat training and years of fighting experience kicked in as he began to circle the Monstrosity, holding the sword at the ready and looking for an opportunity or opening in which to strike without injury. The thing just followed him, keeping a respectable distance. It had underestimated him once, and wasn’t going to do again.

It was then that Sadhal noticed something strange. The stump on the creatures arm exploded in a flow of purple and red blood, which dripped onto the floor. It was that it seemed grow outwards all of a sudden. Sadhal saw this, and took a step back, unsure what was happening. The skin on the stump gave way as the arm exploded outwards, revealing several long tentacles that crawled out of the thing’s arm. Sadhal just took another step back in shock, somewhat surprised at the thing’s regenerative capabilities. He had seen something similar with the flood…but not to this extent. Each one of the thing’s tentacles was at least a meter long, and they moved too fast to count how many were there. Suffice to say, this was very bad.

The thing seemed to have been waiting for this, however, as it suddenly leapt at Sadhal with a loud roar. It whipped out the new arm at him, and Sadhal grunted in pain as several tentacles grabbed the wrist holding the sword. He just flicked his wrist to the side, however. Sadhal managed to cut half of them before he realized what the thing had done – by moving his sword in that direction and angle, he had left his torso open to attack.

The thing came charging in, bringing the other hand up and punching Sadhal directly in the ribs; sending him flying several feet as his shields gave out and a blast of pain made itself felt over the medicine he had just taken. He kept a death grip on the sword even as he hit the wall and slid to the floor. Grunting in pain, he quickly got to his feet – just in time to duck and miss another assault from the thing as it tried to punch him once more.

It was then that he saw an opportunity to attack. With one swift angle, Sadhal pushed the sword upwards with all of his strength. But it wasn’t really required – the plasma blade pushed through the flesh as if it wasn’t there till it then peeked out the other side of the thing. At this point of time, Sadhal then twisted it around, creating a giant hole in the torso, while at the same time releasing a gush of blood that singed his exposed arm and hand. The creature roared in pain and then suddenly punched Sadhal again – but this time it was weaker – only causing him to loose grip of the sword and stagger backwards. The sword automatically deactivated once more, and the handle slid to the ground. The creature held its stomach as it led out another pained roar that suddenly turned into a gargle as it fell over onto its knees, and then collapsed almost immediately after.

Sadhal panted heavily as he watched the Monstrosity tumble to the ground, into a pool of its own blood. He looked at his arm and shook off the blood while keeping a vary eye on the thing. It was then that shock and realization hit Sadhal: He had defeated the monstrosity – he had won.

There shouldn’t be anything else standing between me and getting off this ship. Sadhal mused to himself. Soon he would be off this hellhole and safe…safe from these monsters, the Demon and that accursed little girl called Alma. He smiled for a second before frowning as his arm began to sting all of a sudden. Looking at it, Sadhal saw that the skin had started to blister where the blood had touched it. Frowning, he glanced at the creature and then back at the container. Holding his side, he limped to the container with the medical kits, and took out another. Injecting himself with more painkillers, Sadhal quickly cleaned out the blood from his arm and then began to move. Looking at the container that had the swords in it, Sadhal found that, oddly, the remaining three swords were now missing. Looking around, he couldn’t spot any of them in the wreckage lying around – and the one he had used was now lying underneath the monstrosity’s body. Frowning, Sadhal shook his head. No matter – he would manage with the Carbine.

With that in mind, he moved towards the exit, carefully stepping over the still-smoldering pieces of debris around its remains. Standing at the cusp of the door, just before the open space outside, Sadhal glanced back at the body and the room momentarily, before turning back to look for the door.

Then he froze.

Wait…Did I…did it…did the body just move? Sadhal thought as he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning back to the body of the thing, he looked at it. No…it hadn’t moved – it was just as before.

Must be the painkillers. he thought to himself before turning back.
 
But even as he did so, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye again. This time, Sadhal whirled around and raised up his Carbine.

No…I definitely saw something.

Sadhal thought to himself as a wave of fear went through his mind. It had to be dead – no living being could have survived such injuries like that! None had – not even Flood!

Yet, sure as day, he watched in shock and horror as a burst of blood began to flow from the back of the thing where the sword had exited.

No…that’s…by the prophets, NO!

Yet, Sadhal’s prayers remained unanswered as the entire body trembled once and even more blood gushed out. And then, suddenly, it stopped, and Sadhal could make out new skin regenerating over the hole and clearing it out. Flesh began to make itself whole again as the creature’s arms suddenly surged in size, swelling up and ripping through the flak jacket as if it wasn’t there. He watched in horror as the arms then moved; starting with the one that was still intact, which it used to prop itself up and onto it’s knees.

Sadhal didn’t stay back to see anymore, though. He made the wise decision of turning around and making a run towards the exterior door. Sadhal didn’t look back as the Monstrosity rose to its feet; and then let out a deafening roar that echoed not just in the room, but through the corridors of the ship itself. But by the time he had heard it, Sadhal was already at the corridor that had led into the room itself. Making a left turn, he headed to the door that led to the ramps, running down the length of the corridor within two seconds and then hurling himself through the door as it opened.

Sadhal didn’t stop there either, as another roar could be heard from the garden’s entrance. He didn’t look back, however, and instead focused on the ramps ahead of him. The ramps were simple enough: basically just long stretches of hallways that were inclined downwards, with a turn at the end and another stretch before it reached the next level. It went like this all the way down to the engine complex at the bottom of the ship. Right now, he was at the very top of the ramps, leaving the only way being down.

Panting for a second, Sadhal nodded to himself, and then began to run again. The hangar bay was down at least six levels. The next one down was the living quarters, and the one below that were the sub-cargo bays along with the statue of the Prophet truth. Co-incidentally, that was also the level that the lift had stopped on. Sadhal didn’t stop to consider this, however, as he turned the corner and continued downwards. As he passed the next level and turned the corner again into the ramp down, Sadhal could already hear the door opening in the level above and the loud thud of the thing’s footsteps. Wasting no time, he leapt down the ramp and around the next turn.

And then he screeched to a halt as he looked down the ramp leading to the next level.

At the bottom of the ramp was the last person he had expected to see right now – or rather, the last persons.

The Demon was at the bottom of the ramp…and was running up towards Sadhal. But that was not the most interesting thing. What was the interesting thing was the presence of the other Demon that turned the corner and moved alongside him, who was now carrying a crippled female human on the back.

Another demon? Here? Did we not kill all of them save that one? Sadhal thought to himself as he watched them run upwards. From the way they were moving, they seemed to be running away from something, though.

And that something then revealed itself as it turned the corner just behind the two.

It was massive, to say the least. Almost the same size as the monstrosity behind him, the thing looked equally fearsome despite being of a more mechanical nature. It was nothing more than the equivalent of a moving mech, though, with a dome shaped front with the words “REVE 6” painted onto it. Both of its arms seemed to hold a deadly combination of weapons that Sadhal could only guess at – and as it turned the corner, it came to a stop, pointing both of them upwards. The Demon looked at Sadhal for a second before he pointed at him and shouted something. It was at that point of time that Sadhal’s blood ran cold as he heard the thump of the Monstrosity jumping in right behind him.

It was then that he realized just how dire the situation was. He essentially had nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide, and as he looked down the Ramp and the Demon, Sadhal realized that the same was probably true of the Demon and his group as well. Closing his eyes, time slowed as only one thought seemed to ring through his mind:

We lost…we’re all dead…and now theirs is no escape.

[Rampage]

I just love the story so far.  Keep it coming?

I thought the monstrosity chasing Sadhal was the REVE 6 prototype cyborg from FEAR.  But I guess not.  Where's this monstrosity from?  I doubt it's from FEAR...

[Mefustae]

*cough-Resident Evil-cough*

It's the Nemesis, FYI.

[Deepblue]

You know, if this had been Halo:CE vs. F.E.A.R., the MC would've already kicked everyone's @rse and blown up the whole bloody place.

[Deepblue]

Bumpage w/ art.

[Singh]

Bumpage w/ story.

Earlier

For a long moment, neither SPARTAN moved, nor spoke to each other as they looked into the other’s visor.

Kelly. The fastest of all the SPARTANS, John had relied on her speed and stealth in many an operation – up to and including their first mission to apprehend the Colonel. That mission seemed like a lifetime ago, and yet, John could remember it as if it was yesterday. John would have given anything to see any of his SPARTANS once again…and it seemed like someone up there was listening in to his requests. The troubling part, however, was what had been taken for this. After all, everything has a price…up to and including good fortune.

“Sorry to interrupt this staring contest, but mind explaining what’s going on here?”

Jin’s harsh voice cut through the silence. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he noted that she was severely injured; possibly fatally so unless she could get to a medical center soon. But that evaluation took less than a second as John ignored her and instead turned back to Kelly. He wanted to say something…anything at the ghost now standing in front of him…but no suitable words brought themselves before him to express how he was feeling.

But Kelly knew, and she nodded in slight acknowledgment. It wasn’t much – just a minor move here and there, but the body language said she knew. She broke the silence as she asked the first question.

“The others?.”

John knew who she was referring to. He only shook his head. Kelly nodded. No further explanation was needed.

“Dr. Halsey?” John asked, this time somewhat curious. Dr. Halsey had taken Kelly with her just after the operation, while she was still drugged. Kelly didn’t answer immediately though, but after a few seconds of pause, she just shook her head, indicating that she didn't know. Kelly didn't elaborate further, though, and instead turned back to Jin. Turning around, he studied the corridor and lift, keeping a sharp eye out for replicas.

“Jin, this is Master Chief John 117. Don’t worry, he’s a friend. We have to move now.”

Jin only nodded. Kelly didn’t wait any further before she scooped up the FEAR agent into a fireman’s carry. Keeping a sharp eye out, John nodded to Kelly as he moved towards the lift and pressing the call button. He then moved towards where the battle had taken place, picking up another shotgun and two pistols off the dead Replicas there. Moving back towards the elevator, he came up behind Kelly and Jin as he spoke up.

“How did you get onboard?”

Kelly nodded as she took the weapons pistol, holstering it and then wielding the shotgun single-handed. She passed one of the pistols back up to Jin, who just accepted it with her free hand and placed it into the holster on her side. Finally, she spoke, replying slowly.

“I don’t know. One minute I was on the operating table with Dr. Kelly hovering above me...and the next I wake up alone on the ship. I don’t know where Dr. Halsey went…but I didn’t find remains…or anything else for that matter. The ship was in a storm of some kind; and a lightning blast hit us through the hull and sucked me out into the vacuum…which then threw me onto the ship and into the middle of a dozen replicas – not to mention a helicopter wreckage. They took me and Jin from the wreck…something about holding us hostage, I believe.”

Kelly turned to John as she then continued, her voice low.

“John...what happened to the Covenant...and where are we?”

Jin looked at John from her position on Kelly's shoulder, a curious look on her face as well. Like it not, John realized that she was stuck in the middle of all of this too, and had a right to know. Looking up at the elevator, he realized it would take some time to come down all the way, giving them a chance to talk.

Looking back at the other two, John quickly spoke to them. He filled them in on the events that had taken place after the destruction of Halo; including the covenant invasion of Earth; the destruction of New Mombasa; the chase and eventual death of the Prophet of Regret, and then the events on High Charity...and then he reached the most important part, the one where he paused and considered what information to give.

Gravemind. Should he tell them about the entity that now inhabited Jin's team member, or of the fact that the flood was now on board the ship?

John knew what Kelly's immediate reaction would be: to destroy the ship and everything on board. She would have no qualms and hassles about doing such a  thing...but he felt otherwise. Death was stalking him...and there was still the matter of Alma Wade – something which the FEAR operative would know best about.

They deserve to know.

The thought ran through his mind. It was right; they were knee-deep in this, just as he was. Telling them now would probably save their lives, if nothing else. Besides, John really wasn't all that good at lying either.

“Do go on, Master Chief.” Jin spoke up, prodding John around. He sighed internally, and finally continued from where he had left off: the boarding of the forerunner ship. He continued on, telling them about the Brutes, the prison cells, the helicopter...and then his first encounter with Alma Wade. Jin cursed once he finished.

“My God...Alma made it too? What about the point man, did he make it?”

John hesitated to reply. The point man...he was no longer as Jin would have known him...yet, should he bring up the issue at all? Realizing that he had little other choice, John only shook his head slightly.

“The point man...died shortly thereafter. I was rescued by a Covenant Elite, when we hid in the cells aga-”

“Wait. You were rescued by an Elite?” Kelly asked, her tone somewhat shocked and surprised. John only nodded. “From what I can tell, the prophets double-crossed them as well...theirs a full civil war raging on. He's the only survivor of the ship's crew right now. We got split up soon after, however...”

“Why? Where did he go?”

John again hesitated. He was unsure how to put this. After a moment, he finally continued, looking directly at Jin.

“The Point Man now belongs to Gravemind. The...condition and the flood infection on the ship became clear shortly after we encountered a different entity on board the ship...one that shares a similar uniform to yours. The being it inhabits...his original name was Paxton Fettel, from what I saw on the name tag, but...”

John paused. He considered carefully what to say next, lest the other two call him crazy. Hell, for the briefest of moments, John thought he was going crazy. The illusions of Kirk, the dreams of Alma and Sgt. Johnson. And then the physical manifestation of death that now stalked them all. He could tell from Jin's expression that she was already somewhat skeptical, but still believing it.

“But what?” Kelly pushed him on this time, noticing the hesitance in his voice. John looked at Kelly for a long moment.

“Kelly...their are four distinctively powerful entities on board this ship right now. One is Gravemind...who seems to be here out of sheer willpower alone. The other is Alma Wade, the third, I suspect...may just be something that can help us all...while the fourth...”

John paused, looking away for a brief moment. His voice turned into a harsh whisper as he continued. The lift was coming closer; but it still wouldn't be there for another thirty seconds or so.

“The fourth is a physical manifestation of Death. It appears to have caused the storm that is surrounding this ship. It brought in the Replicas, along with Alma and you.”

Jin just frowned, while John could tell from Kelly's body language that she didn't believe him for a moment. But then the moment passed.

“At any other time, I would think you were crazy...but this isn't any other time. What's the objective and who's hostile?”

Kelly asked, but as John was about to reply, the lift finally reached the ground floor. It was thankfully empty. There were no hidden traps or trip-mines on it as well, which was sort of fortunate as well. Checking the sniper rifle, John stepped onto the elevator  and activated it, taking them upwards.

“For now, the objective is to get to the bridge. We have to acquire an object from there, similar to the one that you recovered from Reach. Apparently, it has the capacity to both contain Alma, as well as keeping Death away. Consider all Replicas hostiles – they are technically working for Death. There is an Elite still alive on board the ship, however his status is uncertain. If you see flood, keep your distance – but don't engage. Gravemind's status is uncertain, but it said it would meet us on the bridge as well.”

Kelly nodded. John gave an internal sigh, but suddenly noticed that something was wrong. Kelly noticed it too, but it was Jin that actually asked out the question.

“We're ascending fast. That's odd...the lift was slow on the way down.”

John frowned. Jin was right...this was certainly odd indeed. Considering that it took five minutes to get to the ground floor, John had assumed it was a heavy cargo lift designed for the purpose. Yet, studying the control panel, he realized this was just like any other Covenant lift he had seen.

Unless it was programmed to go that way.

But then by whom?

The answer came almost immediately in the form of a radio broadcast. Kelly's radio was broadcasting it to Jin's ear peace, so all three heard it simultaneously as it echoed both over the line, and from upstairs as well.
“Tango one, this is Command. Do you have visual confirmation of the hostiles?”

“Negative command, but we have a possible contact coming up the elevator. They wiped out most of Zeta squad, but we have one survivor. The other hostage may now be working with the target and has our weapons. We need more help down here.”

“Affirmative Tango one. REV-6 support and Sierra squad is en-route to your location, ETA is 12 minutes. Hold the line as long as you can, but retreat back to Gamma if they push too hard.”

“Roger that. What is the status of the flood?”

“Gamma squad has neutralized the flood instance at Sector zero-seven-five. Delta squad is currently in combat with the primary target. Status is uncertain, but four REV-6's are en-route to re-enforce them.  Take note that Flood forms may come into your sector from zero-eight-two and zero eight-three. Those bastards are coming out of the ceiling vents now, so keep a sharp lookout.”

“Affirmative Command. Tango one out.”

John cursed internally. He knew this had been going too good. They had another twenty seconds – twenty five, tops – before they would reach the top. He glanced at Kelly, but she was already looking at her shotgun, and checking the ammo there. John did a check on the sniper rifle as well. It was still operational; although from the display it looked like he just had five shots left.

Better make them count.

“This isn't good.” Jin spoke up, but then grunted in pain as Kelly went down on one knee, before laying her to rest against the back wall of the elevator.

“Your too injured to fight, Jin. Stay here.” Jin just nodded, but took out the pistol and turned off the safety anyway. She would remain ready, regardless. Kelly turned back to John. The point was clear. Stop the lift. John turned around and manipulated the control panel, setting to lift into an emergency stop mode. It slowly groaned to a halt as the radio channel spoke up again. All three of them froze in place as the voices spoke out again, ignorant of the fact that

“Tango One, this is Sierra one, we're reading the elevator has stopped. Can you confirm or deny?”

“Confirmed Sierra one. The elevator has stopped. Motion detectors show no movement.”

“Affirmative. We're picking up the pace. ETA in eight. Sierra one out.”

“roger that. Tango two and three, recon. Tango four and five cover them.”


The radio clicked dead, leaving the three in silence. John just gave a short nod to Kelly, who just nodded back. It was time to move. Raising his sniper rifle, John looked up. The edge of the upper floor was around a meter above their heads. Normally, any other human wouldn't have been able to jump that high...but the SPARTANS were no normal human. With one breath, both he and Kelly bent their knees, before taking a giant leap upwards. The wall passed downwards in front of them as John brought the sniper rifle up, looking for a target as his other hand shot out for the ledge, his legs coming up to get a perch as well.

The room beyond was similar to the one they had just left; there were three distinct levels here; with a tree centered in each save the one they had just come up to. But at the ramps to each of the levels (the first being about six meters away, with each subsequent one being five meters distant from the top of the previous ramp), no less than twenty-three Replicas had barricaded themselves behind boxes and other equipment. Most of them held rifles and sub-machine guns, but at least four of them had shotguns, while another six had HV-penetrators and there were two snipers. At least two of these were now not six feet away from them; one carrying a shotgun, while the other a G1A1 rifle.

“Hostile spotted!”

The cry came out over the radio as both Replicas suddenly reacted, screeching to a halt and turning back. They were fast...but Kelly was way faster. By the time John had scrabbled to his feet, Kelly had already charged the nearest Replica, ramming it with her side and then firing point-blank at it with the shotgun. The blast was powerful enough that is simply vaporised the Replica's body, forming a fine mist of blood and organs that splashed over them. John ignored it, however, and simply aimed the sniper rifle at the sniper that was now taking aim at Kelly.

A blue beam rang out across the room from the top of the third level, streaking through the space where his had been less than half a second ago. John's return volley didn't miss, however. The Replica gave an unearthly scream as the beam hit...and then completely vaporized him, leaving behind nothing but a charring Skeleton. John was surprised at the result for a brief moment, but then it passed and he took aim at another Replica.

Two down...twenty one to go. He glanced over at Kelly, who was now cutting down the other retreating Replica, while moving impossibly fast herself. Speed or not, this was probably going to be the toughest battle in their entire career.

[Zantor]

To me, disclosing the Chief's first name is just insane. That should be kept hidden so people will HAVE to read Halo: The Fall of Reach, the best novel I've ever read (not cuz it's Halo, but the writing is phenomenal).

[smokeme]

To me, disclosing the Chief's first name is just insane. That should be kept hidden so people will HAVE to read Halo: The Fall of Reach, the best novel I've ever read (not cuz it's Halo, but the writing is phenomenal).

then again SPARTANS don't break bones either...AFAIK ribs ARE bones :

details are not important, seriously i don't think replicas would be faster then a SPARTAN. The story is great anyway, keep it up

[Mefustae]

seriously i don't think replicas would be faster then a SPARTAN.

You've obviously not played FEAR with the Replicas on the hardest setting, those suckers are fast.

But yes, fine details don't really come in to it when the story is this good.

[smokeme]

seriously i don't think replicas would be faster then a SPARTAN.

You've obviously not played FEAR with the Replicas on the hardest setting, those suckers are fast.

But yes, fine details don't really come in to it when the story is this good.

I admit the replicas are fast but if you read the book on Halo you should know that spartans are very fast as well...much faster then we are in the game for obvious reasons...

I'm still trying to find out where it says the suit injects painkillers etc into the body though.....i don't remember that ever being mentioned...even in the cortana letters...