- Wolverfrog
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- Fabled Legendary Member
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They had arrived out of nowhere.
For hours, the Master Chief and his strike team had been travelling through the crystalline confines of the Citadel for hours, encountering only a few lone Flood patrols. And now, suddenly, they were surrounded. Hundreds of Flood soldiers had sprung up, one by one. Shepherding them in, until with a curse John realised his team had been trapped within a ring of Flood.
"Well this is just fantastic," Fred muttered sarcastically, drawing two long bladed knives from sheaths at his hip. Fred had always loved his knives.
"What now?" the Arbiter demanded, activating his violet energy sword, and powering up his golden armour.
"Just wait for my signal," John told them calmly, even though inside he was terrified of the Flood approaching. And he knew that Cortana could tell he was frightened.
Don't be afraid Chief, just do what you do best, Cortana consoled gently.
I'm not afraid! John snapped back, even though he knew it was futile to try and hide his thoughts from someone who shared them.
That's the spirit John, the AI enthused. John just decided to let it go, and focused on the matter at hand. It was possible they could be killed. Maybe. At a pinch.
"Now you see! You have merely been digging yourself deeper into the graves you so carefully crafted for yourself! And now, at the point where success seemed most probable, you shall die." the Gravemind taunted, using a Flood form as a mouthpiece. John frowned, drawing out his assasult rifle.
"You underestimate us, Gravemind," he called, shouting at nowhere in particular. "We are not average soldiers. You will die today, once and for all."
And then there came the most chilling laugh John had ever heard. It cut deep into his body, filling him and his companions with dread.
"Ah, the mighty children my enemies are not so omniscient after all. How disappointing. Did you truly believe I would be so easy to best? You have delivered the only means of my destruction right into my hands," the Gravemind told them smugly. John turned to Mendicant Bias, who looked taken aback. "Do you not understand? I let this invasion of my domain happen. You have fallen into my grasp. Did you think I would have allowed you into my Citadel had I not wished it? Even the naval battle high above, which your comrades so fiercely wage, is merely bait to hook you and that traitor you call Mendicant Bias in in."
John was staring around him with a sick feeling. Flood were practically oozing out of the walls now, blocking all means of exit.
"You're lying. We're going to cut a path through your pathetic army, and then we'll destroy you, Gravemind," John replied, keeping his voice level somehow. He could feel the back of Galenus trembling.
"Hundreds more ships sit dormant beneath this monument to your destruction. When I give the order, they shall ascend and cleanse the skies of your filth. My legions shall swarm out from catacombs long hidden, and shall overwhelm the armies that wage war on the surface. And you, my hated enemy: I shall not assimilate you. Instead, I shall make you watch as everything you have ever known and loved is burnt, and reduced to ashes and bone. And you will die an empty husk of a man."
And then, as if a switch had suddenly been thrown, the Flood surrounding them surged forward. John immediately began firing his rifle, but it wasn't enough. For every one he killed, ten more took their place. Eventually, the strike team was caught in a surge of Flood. John found himself stretched to the limit, and knew that he would not last long. His weapon was knocked out of his hands, sent soaring through the air. And yet still the Spartan fought, ripping Flood soldiers to pieces with gauntleted hands. Then, he felt himself falling. John tumbled to the ground, sprawling out on his back, dozens of eager, hungry Flood forms looming over him hungrily.
Suddenly, the south wall of the Citadel smashed, shattering into millions of shards of crystal, sweeping away scores of Flood in a shredding wave. A bloodthirsty roar cut through the air, one that was not of the Flood.
"Die, you parasitic es oh bees!" a distinctly familiar voice cried from atop a large, reptilian creature which John recognised as a Sharquoi. He had to be dreaming.
No, you're not, Cortana informed him, sounding as stunned as he felt. The Flood forms which had been just a few minutes ago about to kill him were swept away with one huge clawed arm. Countless more were incinerated by a continuous jet of plasma fired from the Sharquoi's mouth.
A figure jumped down beside John, shooting rounds from his Designated Marksman Rifle, executing maimed Flood who were attempting to scramble to their feet. Two grandly garbed Elites jumped down after him, taking out Flood as quickly as any Spartan.
"Johnson?" the Master Chief had almost learnt to accept that the Sergeant had an uncanny way at turning up when all hope was lost, but this was unexpected, even for him.
"Sorry we took so long, Chief. That Sharquoi ain't exactly the brightest thing around," Johnson apologised, putting a tired hand on his shoulder. Most of the Flood soldiers had been wiped out by the Sharquoi and the reorientated strike team -- they were now fleeing or being torn to shreds if they attempted to resist.
"We need to get to the Gravemind as quickly as possible," John said, scooping a Spiker rifle off the ground. "This has all been one huge trap. Everyone is in danger."
"Well, let's get moving," Johnson said, turning to the Sharquoi. "Thanks for the lift. Stay here; don't let anyone follow us. Understand?"
John may have been hallucinating as a result of fear and pain, but he could have sworn the gargantuan creature nodded.
John looked back at his weary strike team. His Spartans were doing good, the Arbiter and Jahl seemed tired but still eager to fight, the two Brutes looked pumped up and almost seemed as if they were about to berserk, and the two Elites -- Lights of Sangheilios, by the look of it -- who had just arrived were standing proud and ready for a fight. Johnson was already moving, looking back at him as if he were wondering what was taking so long.
"Mendicant Bias, is what the Gravemind said true?" John asked the Grand Monitor.
"It's hard to say, Reclaimer. The Gravemind is as close to omniscient as possible, however, so it is wholly possible that this has all been one big trap. I was a fool not to see it," Mendicant Bias answered miserably.
"Never mind, dwelling on the past doesn't do anyone good. Trap or not, this abomination has to die. Move out!"