The sunset was mesmerizing. Embattled and drained, I was ecstatic to finally see clearly again. Blood dripped from the various wounds on my body, leaving a trail on the crisp green grass that I walked through. I stopped moving when my feet hit the sand. A nice, cool breeze soothed my body, as the sticky mixture of blood and sweat poured onto the grass. I felt as though the conflict was finally over; upon deriving this, I dropped the pistol from my right hand. I unslung my battle rifle and threw it next to my pistol. My combat armor, knife, and what was left from my grenades followed. I removed my helmet and set it gently in front of me. The gash in my right shoulder made all of this rather strenuous.
With blood still dripping from my wounds, I stepped into the sand with my boots. I felt weaker with every step, but I continued to advance further onto the beach. The sound of the water crashing onto the white sand soothed my mind, as after these past few days, I finally felt sound. We managed to drive the enemy back to where they came from, at the cost of many lives; many lives that will never be recognized or celebrated. It was 2148, and Humankind was on the brink of extinction, yet only a few hundred or so out of the billions alive were aware of what was going on. I was the last from my combat unit. I survived the horrors brought forth by this entity, a mere probe for a more devastating invasion force.
The scriptures on the epitaphs of the Prothean ruins on Mars spoke of an unspeakably evil force called the Reapers. These Reapers brought about the extinction of all living sentient beings in the galaxy every 50,000 years. Mars and another planet called Ilos were the last remaining Prothean colonies after the Reapers invaded during their time. The scientists suggested that upon realizing the genocide of their race and the hopelessness of the situation, that the few survivors of the invasion left behind clues about the Reapers' existence, hoping to prevent a future species from having the same happen to them. Then there was some strange gateway and technology that the Protheans left behind; its secrets were never revealed while I was still around.
The Reapers sent a small reconnaisance contingent to the Solar System. The United States' NASA and the European Space Agency both had their eyes on this small fleet. The Reapers spent about four months wandering through the Solar System until they finally targeted Earth. Sensing humankind's first encounter with an alien species, every measure was secretly taken by the American and European governments. Firstly, not a single civilian was made aware of their presence. Diplomatic rehearsals and role-play became a round-the-clock thing between the governments. Most importantly, my Black Ops unit, codenamed Phantom-2, was tapped to prepare for possible hostility from the aliens. Should that be the case, my unit's mission would be to neutralize the enemy and cover all evidence up. UFO sightings were not a concern; they could easily be dismissed.
Unfortunately, that is what it came to. Our governments sent encrypted messages to the aliens, determining a meeting place and agenda. The diplomats and negotiators awaiting the aliens were the first to die. Upon landing on Earth, on this remote island in the middle of nowhere in the Pacific Ocean, these Reapers unleashed hell. In an extremely bloody battle, my team valiantly fought them and died, not before ultimately helping me find the Reapers' weakness. Their sacrifices allowed me to expose the Reapers, and I hit them where it hurt. Their real strength was not in their massive ships; it was in the shock troops that powered them, and without them, the ships themselves were useless.
The shock troops were the true incarnation of pure evil; they were biomechanical beings of incredible strength and speed and utterly proficient in combat. The odds seemed impossible, but I survived gritty, seemingly suicidal situations before. Four straight days and nights were necessary to combat their shock troops with my Phantom-2 platoon in the steamy jungles. I was the only survivor. Over a hundred of the world's finest, most battle-hardened, and elite soldiers lost their lives protecting the planet.
I advanced into the surf, the saltwater stinging my wounds. I stopped and stared at the lifeless Reaper ship laying directly in front of me in the water. Moments later, four black helicopters, special forces laden appeared and landed directly behind me. A few of my comrades assisted me back to one of the choppers, warning me of the impending nuclear strike on the string of islands. As if on cue, the four Reaper ships disintegrated right after they informed me of this, leaving no trace of their incredibly advanced technology behind. The nuke would wipe out the islands, anything left by the alien race, and every bit of evidence of conflict. In the world's eyes, this never happened.
I was immediately ferried to Papoose Lake, more commonly known as the staging grounds of "Area 51". Being the lone survivor of physical contact with the aliens, I was deemed and unexplainably vital asset to U.S. interests. Because of this, I was taken against my will during my debriefing to a cryo-chamber, where my body was tested for any traces of alien material. Upon coming up empty-handed, the government decided to put me in cryostasis, and indefinitely separate me from the life I knew. They ultimately decided to leave me there until my knowledge and experience was needed…