"Well, this is a bloody mess we're in. I told you this was a bloody bad idea returning to this hell hole." Sven grunted as he pulp a skull.
"With respect brother you shut your whining right now or I swear in Russ' name I will bash your skull open!" replied Ragnar as swatted aside one in front of him, splattering its remains on the wall. The frustration applied to it was evident.
Ragnar, Sven and their remaining wolf brethren are being pursued by creatures in the dark. Their number was so great that even if the Wolves were to blindly fire their storm bolter, each round would find their mark. One creature shriek in pain, but the rest pushed on in rampage.
"Hah! You can try! I'll make sure to return the broken nose to you, milksop!". Sneered Sven.
Ragnar's reply was rolling his eyes. Sven was truly drunk out of his mind in their last fight to remember that it was he that fell to the floor and broke his own nose.
The fight, although ferocious was not relentless. Sven was breathing hard, not from the fatigue but from the fury still boiling in his blood. The squad pick themselves up and move on.
They pass through a dark alley. It was a cadaverous scene that only a Night Lord would appreciate with glee. Blood, guts and entrails painted everywhere from the wall to the ceiling. Bodies disembowled. Heads piled at one spot. Severed limbs on another pile, strangely still spilling blood. Ragnar ran passed a dead corpse, impaled head to gut by a protruding limb spear. The eye sockets was empty and crying tears of blood. His mouth opens to a hollow scream. Any normal men would be paralyzed in terror.
But their visitor was no normal men.
Ragnar shot the head in disgust before moving on, the explosion of the bolt round turning it into red mist.
Up ahead was the entrance to the bridge. On top of being sealed tight, there are more human corpses piling at the entrance like some grotesque barricade. At the edge of his senses, Ragnar can hear the next incoming wave. He scowls at the situation. He needed another complication like he needed Sven's complaints.
Rangar signaled the last surviving Iron Priest to open the door. The Wolves clears off the corpses for the priest and use said corpse to form a wall of flesh and bone.
They are getting close.
Devastator Wolves plant down their heavy weapons. The Wolves reloaded their half full Bolters and pistols with fresh magazines.
Closer.
Their crude defense line is done. Now they wait. The silence was deafening save for the silent buzz of the Iron Priest's las cutter melting through the door's lock mechanism.
Very close. Ragnar can hear the tap tap sound of clawed feet on the floor.
Sven breaks the silence. He revs his chainsword and shouted, "I am not bloody dying in this hell hole without a last sip of Fenris ale!" His words was met with roars of laughter by the survivors. Ragnar shook his head in amusement.
"If we do survive, I am drowning you in ale." Said Ragnar.
The first of the hordes can into view.
"For the Allfather!" Ragnar bellowed and the Wolves fired in unison.
##########
Cortana was walking through the empty space ship, the half of Forward unto Dawn. It has been 3 years since the events that happended on The Ark. She stops and turns. Icicles have formed around John's cyrotube. Her bright holographic form casts his pod in a serene blue glow. As she gets closer she can see the sleeping Green Armor man in side. She places her palm on John's tube with a rare weary look.
"I miss you, it's been really lonely." 3 years was far longer for an AI. Cortana can be said to reach the end of her service. AIs at her age would start to develop strange things as they slowly think themselves to death.
Strange things like the need to exist as humans exist and walk the empty hall of Forward unto Dawn in physical form.
Strange things like emotion. Like loneliness and sorrow.
She pushes away these things. As long as there is a single human in this vessel, she needed to function like she should. For as long as she could. She slowly walked back into the cold darkness.
Cortana approached the bridge to activate the playback distress call, the same distress call she had broadcast every hour of every day for the past 3 years. She performed her duty faithfully, but it's been so long that even she felt that this far cry for help would go unheard evermore.
That's when the alert system activated.
WARNING. BLACK HOLE EMERGENCE. PROXIMITY ALERT.
The warning came so sudden, so unexpected that Cortana's form bursts into static and needed 2 seconds to reform. As the readings flood into her thought matrix, another strange thing comes to her.
Fear.
She scrambles every power she could to ignite the engines, to blast away from its gravity polarity even when she already know the futility of her action. The ship is broken in half which made the ship inoperable at it's full capacity. Even if it did, Forward Unto Dawn still can't run away from the black hole's gravity well. The numbers don't lie, and yet she tries to defy it.
Hope.
Finally she gives up and accepts the numbers. Thrusters died. Cortana watched on helplessly as the ship was being pulled in. Space and time bend around her. She stared straight at John one last time before everything when black and uttered three words.
"I'm so sorry."
Despair and regret.
######
Ragnar makes a wide swing across. 7 of the monster was sliced to half on the torso. Another wave comes to him. He hacks left and right. In half a heartbeat Ragnar mag-locks his sword to his left hip, retrieves his Bolter on his right hip and fired four shots on four monsters crawling up the ceiling. They fell. Ragnar swaps back to his melee weapon and slice them in half horizontally even before they hit the ground. He makes three diagonal slash, killing 4 of the monster.
No shot was wasted. Every swing a killing stroke.
2 larger sized monstrosity enters the fray. It reminded him of the Nurglite. Walking on small, stubby legs and large wobbly belly. He meet their approach with equal amounts of burst fires from his Bolter at their center. They didn't fell, their fat belly absorbs the lethal impact. Ragnar kept firing.
Then his Bolter clicked empty. "Shite!" Ragnar cursed and blocks the incoming attack from one of them with it. The fat monster's scythed claw made a deep gash on his pauldron and cut the back of his head. He punches the creature in the gut. His fist went through with surprising ease right up the elbow. Something gave him pause. Through the armor's sensories he can feel some crawl and squirm around his arm. He finished the monster off with an uppercut, his arm bursts out of the monsters head, covering his face with blood and white pus.
And something else.
His arm had smaller creatures crawling around it, slipping in through the joints and chewing the softer layer of protection within. Ragnar growled and tries to shake them off. Then pain assaulted his right thigh. The monster wasn't dead. It's claw pierced through his ceramite armor when it fell. Ragnar grimaced in pain but did not scream. They will not have the satisfaction of hurting him.
From his blindside, the second monster roared in triumph and raises his scythed claw high, ready to strike Ragnar on his helmetless head.
But it never got the chance.
Righteous flame bursts forth and burns the creature. Its roar of triumph became a roar of pain as it struggled uselessly to douse the fire. The fire didn't kill it. That honor fell to the two grey hunters who both decapitated and disembowled it in a series of deadly combo.
"Ye bloody fookin' cunt! I'm getting bloody tired of looking after yer bloody arse!" Sven shouted over the din of battle, his mouth still leaving trails of remenant fire.
"I thought you enjoy nannying me, mum." Ragnar jested.
"Ye be a real bloody pain in the arse if I hafta bring Grimmar back his precious bloody pup in a bodybag." As he spat a gobble of burning phlem at a disembowled creature, incinerating it.
"Gene-seed." Ragnar corrected as he pulls out the claw. He stomps the head of the monster, killing it instantly while reloading his Bolter.
"Whatever, ya bloody cunt. Just bloody try ta stay alive."
And that was as far as 'Thank you' and 'You're welcome' would go between the two of these Wolves. The battle resumes its current ferocity. Ragnar can't be bothered with the wound. There was no time. More monsters poured through the opposite corridor, through the ventilation ducts, elevator shafts and even through the walls.
No matter how much they kill, the Wolves couldn't instill fear upon their enemy. How do you stop something that comes at you and is not afraid to die? Ragnar welcomes them with the song of Fenris singing in his soul. To him, they are the perfect opponent. And by extension, he knows his Wolf brothers felt the same. He can hear their heaving breath. He can see their movement. Their eyes burns with the fires of battle. They fought with steady rising fury.
Like hungry wolves rampaging in a cage full of lambs.
A bolt of plasma energy sailed accross the corridor. It carries the heat of the sun and immolates everything it touches before exploding in a mini supernova of bright light on a solid wall. Creatures burned in its passing. They screamed but not for long as they flesh form was cleansed to ash.
The Long Fang sighed. "Blasted Morcai, ta wolf's bane is as dry as ta desert of Tallarn." Said the Long Fang named Vkarl, and his named Plasma Cannon. The veteran gently placed his heavy weapon down and drew his Frost Axe. Despite the chaos around him, Vkarl was seen limbering up. He strode rather than charging headlong into battle. Older than all the other Wolves combined, his movement showed grace and elegance. Wasting little energy and showing little flair. But killed just as much as them. He was the most in control amongst all the others.
Ragnar had always admired Vkarl. He fights with wisdom and not with the feral rage that is in the blood of all Wolves. More than once in the practise cage did Vkarl gave Ragnar the right advice even before he lost the spar, as if he can see how the paths of battle even before the journey started.
Even this battle. He killed one after another with the passion no different than chopping meat for dinner back in Fenris. Much he had seen in his centuries of service to the Allfather made him largely inured to fury.
Ragnar wondered if the outcome of this skirmish would be different if Vkarl would take the lead instead of him. It was Vkarl that insisted Ragnar lead the squad. He is but an old Wolf, he said. It's time for the young ones to lead.
"Focus, Ragnar." Vkarl said. "Save it later for meditation."
Ragnar snaps his attention back to the battle at hand.
The trio of Grey Hunters were fighting back to back, covering each other's blindspots. Their Bolters have long since spent. There was never enough for all the foul xenos. Nevertheless, when their Bolter is silent, their melee weapon is still singing.
They fought as if they are one. Like they know what each other is thinking. When the first charged in and cleaves a big one with his power Zwihander in half, the other two slaughters the smaller ones. When the second swings high his axe, the third sweeps his power sword low. When the third hacks the chest, the second severs the arm and the first kicks it far back, the dead corpse crashing at the rest, felling them like ten-pins. When the slaughter concludes, they pulled in together, back to back once more.
Such was their bond of brotherhood. Closer than blood. Stronger than adamantium.
"Sub-commander." A monotone mechanical voice buzzed into Ragnar's vox bead. Ragnar glanced at the Iron Priest. The door is open.
And not a moment too soon.
Priority job complete. He turns to the secondary job of the moment. He draws his twin Bolter and fired a wide arc. The fusillade turned the crowd of monsters into mulch. His ammo loadout was the specialized melta rounds. Meant to destroy armored targets, it's literally an overkill when used against live targets.
One enterprising monster drops from the ceiling, his fanged maw opened wide, threatening to devour the priest's head. But the priest's powerful servo arm caught it in mid-flight and slams the body on the nearby wall.
"WOLVES FALL BACK INTO THE BRIDGE!" Roared Ragnar. The Iron Priest entered first. Then the Grey Hunters. Then Sven. Ragnar pulls a krak grenade and toss it right at the entrance just after Vkarl enters. The grenade explodes and caves the entrance, crushing the monsters and blocking it with heavy debris.
"Well that was bloody fun while it lasted." Sven huffed a single sigh. "Now we get a bloody break."
Suddenly the ceiling broke. A huge figure dropped in front of the wolves. This one was big. Bigger then the ones they faced just moments ago. It was a monstrous beast with four legs multiple hollowed eyes on multiple faces. The air ghosts with their stinking hot breath.
Looking at the creature threatens Ragnar to vomit his lunch. It was disgusting, it's very existence anathema to the physical perfection that is Man. By reflex Ragnar fires the last magazine at the creature. Some of the rounds exploded on his skin. Some pinged off of it.
None cause it to flinch, much less hurting it.
Except for Iron Priest. His anti-armor round pierced into its thick hide, exploding and burning the soft meat inside. The monster roars in anguish and charges.
"Disperse!" Under Ragnar's orders, the Wolves scatter to give the monstrosity a wide berth. One of the Wolf, Arngeir, wasn't quick enough and it caught him by the foot. Its massive arm easily lifts the Wolf overhead and slammed to the hard floor 3 times before it flings him accross the bridge, landing on an awkward position.
His brother isn't moving. Without his helmet it is difficult for Ragnar to tell for certain his condition. Suddenly he heard one of the Grey Hunter roared in blind fury, power Zwihander in hand. There's only one way this would end. Ragnar, Sven and the remaining Wolves thrusts themselves into the monster.
#########
Chief...
The voice was soft.
Chief...
No... it's not. It sounded far away.
Chief... Wake up.
Who is it that is calling? It sounded familiar. Like a lost friend.
Chief... I need you.
It is getting closer. Louder.
Chief... Wake up... Now.
Urgent. Desperate. He tries to remember but he can't. It's difficult to think. He heard this voice before but he can't quite place it. But he swears that this voice was familiar. This voice was important. It is the core of his very being.
Core.
Cortana!
CHIEF I NEED YOU PLEASE WAKE UP NOW!
His eyes snaps open at the sound of his voice. His pod was already wide open. There was no homecoming celebration. No soldiers clad in ceremonial uniform clapping their hands to help him out of his pod. No cheering or whooping.
There was only the cold, cold grey metal of the Forward Unto Dawn washed in the sweeping red emergency lights and the alarms blaring. Electric sparks burst everywhere. He takes all this in within half a second and pulls himself out of the pod. "What's wrong?"
"The ship is in a collision course towards an abandoned station! I can't stop it from happening!"
No more needed to be said. The what, where, how and when will have to wait. Cortana already plotted the course in his HUD (Heads Up Display) and he make his way to the bridge. He needed to secure Cortana's chip that is piloting the dead ship. Chief grits his teeth as he makes a mad dash towards the bridge. Pain flared accros his body, an inevitable effect of cryosleep. He was used to the pain and had numerous experience of combat action immediately out of the pod. But this was a whole new level of intensity. Just how long has he been sleeping?
The bridge was alive with activity. Computers scrolling information in fast forward. Lights blinking in various colors. Chief ignores them all and reaches for the tactical desk where hologram of Cortana stands. He yanks out the chip and slot it into his helmet. A chilling effect crawl around his skin as Cortana assumes control over his armor. There was no time for reunion hugs and kisses.
"It's coming straight for us!" Cortana shouted inside his helmet. Master Chief never sweared. Never need to. Swearing occurs when there was an outpouring of emotions. Chief have always had his emotion ordered like a well kept library ever since boot camp. But seeing a ship larger than Forward Unto Dawn meeting him so fast there is no better time or situation for Chief to say, "SON OF A BITCH!" and runs the other way. No sooner than did he hear the earsplitting screech of metal as the bridge he just vacated collides with the other ship. Looking behind the destruction was chasing after him as the other ship continues to plunge itself deeper into the bowels of his ship.
Chief's leg muscles burned. His power armor did its best to assist John's effort, maxing his speed at 50 km/h and actually outrunning the pursuing impact point.
That's when he sees the dead end. A dry metal wall. He takes the only option that is the path to his left. It led him into the armory. "Dammit!" Chief cursed. He looks repeatedly at the armory filled with small arms and the oncoming other ship tearing through his ship's hull towards him. Distance counter showed 100 meters. John's mind grinds for ideas.
80 meters.
He looks around like a trapped mouse for any escape routes.
70 meters.
A maintenance duct. A teleporter. A damn Bubble Shield grenade! Anything!
60 meters.
He looks at the oncoming ship. And zooms in on its hull. He found something that looks like a metal hatch. There was no time to lose. He quickly scavenge all that is within his arm's reach. An Assault Rifle. A frag grenade. A pistol. In the end he takes a fully loaded missile launcher. It was essential for this crazy feat he had in mind. He takes aim.
40 meters.
Chief pulls the trigger and the rocket flies straight and true towards it's target. For good measure and certainty, as soon as the weapon rotates to the last projectile Chief fired it as well. Both missiles hit its intented target, seriously denting the hatch.
30 meters.
Using the wall as boost, Chief sprints towards the crumpled hatch and shoulder-barge through. The moment he gets through he felt gravity pulls him further forward. Before he can flex his thoughts to turn on the flashlight, something hits him on the shoulder. Then on the leg. Then he felt a barrage of hits. His armor's personal shield flashes with every impact. In the rush of things, Chief finds himself disoriented. Losing control of the situation. The only thing he can think of is curl into a ball, shielding his head and hopes his armor was strong enough to absorb the fall damage. He felt himself hitting walls then sliding on a floor and coming to a halt.
His visor shows a wireframe view of his armors damage situation. But Chief dismiss it. He needed to know his bearings. Chief turns on his flashlight and his heart nearly skipped a beat.
A hanging corpse with bleeding eyes shows himself right in front of his face. The man's mouth opened wide as if in his last moments, he screamed in horror.
"That wasn't pleasant." Cortana commented.
Chief didn't reply. Natural adrenaline coursed through his veins as well as stabilizing narcotics administered from his suit. Soon he calms down. He unslings his Assault Rifle from his back and trudges down the dark corridor. The soles of his greaves make wet sounds with each step he takes on the sticky blood that pooled around him. His light sweeps left and right searching for any threats but all he sees is chunks of meat and limbs strewn everywhere. His suit did its best to filter out the smell, but John can still smell the stench of decaying flesh from the air outside his suit.
"What happened, Cortana? Where are we?" He asked a critical question.
"We slipped into a black hole. It brought us to unknown space. And now we're here."
"This don't look like any ship I have ever seen."
"It must be one of the civilian ships." She paused. "So many deaths."
He stops at one particular body. A half naked corpse of a man was pinned on the wall. Each hands outstretched and pierced with a long metal bar. His skin was cut and peeled back, revealing his organs within. It feels wrong. Everything about this place feels wrong. He had seen bodies torn apart in the war against the Covenant and the Flood.
But this looked like an occultic massacre.
Beside the pinned body was a writings in blood. "What does it say?" Asked John as he points at it.
"I don't know." Cortana answered.
"You don't know?"
"I never seen writings like these, have you?" Cortana answered with an undertone of annoyance.
"Must be a new alien species." John said. A eerie screeching sound came from behind. John turns around, Assault Rifle at the ready. His superhuman abilites made the feat looked instantaneous.
But there was nothing except body parts in his sights.
Then he heard the subtle flapping sound from above him. He looked. It came at alarming speed. It came crashing down at him. Under the poor lighting he could only see parts of the creature. Friend or foe, John squeezes the trigger but the burst of fire hit nothing as the creature swipes it off his grip. With practise ease John snatches the pistol mag-locked on his hips and fired a shot but missed it.
Sensing his frustration, Cortana switch on the night vision while turning off the torchlight at the same time. As soon as John saw it, he fired another shot and clipped the wing of the creature and fell it to the ground. It quickly recovers upright and claws its way ferociously towards John.
He squeezed another round that pulp its head. But it was still coming. The creature swipes its long talon on John. But the Spartan's heavy boot fell first, crushing it into a mess of meat and blood. It twitched twice before falling still.
"Cortana what was that? A new form from the Flood?"
"No, its bio-data does not match. Actually, I can't find shit in the archives. It's something else, something new. An indegenious species maybe?"
"Copy that." Chief resumes his march.
"That poor bastard looks uglier than than a Brute."
Cortana has been talking a lot lately. "Did you just swear a moment ago?" AIs have specific personalities. To add flavor to the interactions. Napolean. Lincoln. Washington. For whatever reason he even heard an AI with the personality of Adolf Hitler. But despite all the personalities he hadn't know that AI would ever swear.
"What are you my mom or something?" Cortana replied annoyingly.
"And now you're being sarcasstic."
"So what? Sue me. Court marshall me for all I care."
"Where's the mute button on this thing?"
"Hellooo? I CONTROL the mute button."
"I should unplug you."
"Yeah? Good luck getting your ass outta here without my help."
Chief fell silent for a while. "I missed you, Cortana. Four full years of dreamless sleep. I missed you."
The reply came a few seconds later. Her voice meek. "I missed you too, Chief. Four full years of solitude."
And for that fraction of a moment, all the cadavorous scene seemed trivial compared to the bonds that they have forged. He was a breed from desperate times. She was all that's left from the Pillar of Autumn. He was to protect her at all cost, but now she becomes an inseperable ally.
Not ally. A friend.
A roar and a rumble broke the sweet spell. "Locate." Chief ordered, having his mind full in combat mode once again.
"Done. The source of the sound came from 800m northeast and 500m below us. I have the approximate marked at your minimap."
Chief marched on with purpose. His senses was still focused on his surroundings as well in case of another ambush. But he marched on with purpose.
Towards the blood curdling roar.
"What do you think this is? A video game? You're supposed to walk AWAY from that." Cortana protested.
"Can you hear it? Over the roar." Just as he said it, there is another of that distance roar and punctuated with subtle pap pap pap sound. "It sounded like gunfire." His march became a jog and then a run. The fighting became louder and more pronounced.
Chief had the best seat to a gladitorial battle at the upper walkway of what looks to be a hangar bay. A group of armored figures were fighting a monster. At first Chief saw them as some delirious soldiers reliving the medieval age hacking their foe with axes and swords, but he saw that their group also had modern firearms. Their armor bore marks and emblems he couldn't recognize.
"How about lets leave it to them." suggested Cortana.
Chief looks around and breaks a part of a large pipe, and turns the sharp end downwards.
"Chief." Cortana called but was ignored. When opportunity shows itself he leaps off. With the weight of his body he drives the pipe a foot deep into it's armored flesh as he landed somehere below the nape of the monster's neck. The monster roared and shake its head violently to get the intruder off who was desperately trying to hold on to the pipe.
One of the grey warrior saw the newcomer and yelled, "Hold down the beast!" And jams his sword at one of the monster's foot while it was distracted. The sword nailed it to the floor holding it in place. The other's followed suit.
Master Chief draws his Assault Rifle and empties the magazine at a single spot. Pieces of hard carapace pinged off his visor with dull clack clack sound. Half a magazine later blood spattered. He throws it off and jams a pair of primed grenades into the open wound and jumps off. 5 seconds late they exploded from within the monster, decapitating it and painted the hangar floor with its blood and innards.
At the same time he holsters his rifle and jams a pair of primed grenades into the open wound and jumps off. After a 5 seconds fuse the grenades exploded, decapitating the beast and painted the hangar floor with its blood and innards.
Threat eliminated.
John stood tall, rifle in hand. When the dust settled, the Spartan wasn't sure what he was looking at.
##########
Ragnar slammed onto the wall. "Fooking beast..." He hissed with repressed anger. Warning klaxons blared at his system indicating inflicted damage on his power armor. He muted them all with a thought.
The beast came at him with its maw gaping open. Ragnar quickly drops face first to the floor as its mouth missed him when it chomps. Sven draws his power axe high and brought it down. The power fields shears off the molecular structure of the beast's tough carapace but did little else to hurt it. He follows up with another one but was swatted away by the monster's claw. He rolled on the floor and came to a halt on the adjacent wall.
Sven looks down and saw the holy aquila had been desecrated. It was hideously defaced by four claw marks and it's not recognizable anymore. Sven looks at the monster with renewed fury. This is a crime of the most dire. An afront to everything the Imperium stands for. He will not see it being insulted by this thing. "You shouldn't have done that," Said Sven in a low and dangerous voice.
The monster roared. Another Space Wolf roared back. The former was a challenge. The latter was fury and sorrow combined together. The Zwihander Grey Hunter swung his weapon in diagonally downward, cutting great gouges on the beast's hardened carapace. This got the monster's attention. He swings again and again at it. With animalistic instinct the beast simply backs off from the lethal attacks until the Space Wolf falters a bit in his ferocity.
The beast lunges at him. Its mouth closed and caught his weapon arm between its jagged teeth. The monster bites down hard on his wrist. Ceramite whined and dents at its force. The Grey Hunter cried in pain. He punches the monster's face repeatedly with his left gauntlet, desperately trying to escape. But the monster hold fast and yanks it left and right like a dog tearing a doll apart. "Brother!" The other Grey Hunter slams the flat side of his power axe on its hideous face. The monster yelped and releases its quarry.
The Grey Hunter falls to his knees staring at his right arm. The ceramite layer had large holes on it where the monster had bitten him. He could feel the numbness on his fingertips and the pain of joint dislocated at the elbow. His arm was ruined, held together in false form by his power armor.
He takes his Zwihander with his good left arm and charges at the beast once more. There was no form on his swings. The loss of his Grey Hunter brother so deep that it robbed it from him. "Brother! Don't! Stop!" The other shouts at him. But he didn't listen. All he wants was to avenge his dead Grey Hunter. "Brother!" He tried again.
The lapse of focus gave the creature the chance to pin him down to the floor. The Space Wolf swings his axe in a repeated 'X' pattern to keep the monster's mouth from eating his head. Suddenly the monster was slammed aside by the combined charging force of Ragnar, Sven and Vkarl. It drops to its side but quickly recovered.
That's when something unexpected happened.
Ragnar saw a green figure lept onto its back. The monster was quick to react and tries to shake it off. Immediately there are questions in his mind, but they escaped Ragnar when he bellowed, "Hold down the beast!" While it was preoccupied with the newcomer, Ragnar jams his sword a foot deep into the floor and nailed the creature in place. The other Grey Hunter snatches the Zwihander from his brother's amateur grip and copied Ragnar.
Firmly in place, the figure takes out his autogun and fired repeatedly at the beast before jamming a pair of grenade into his exposed flesh. A moment later, its head came off its neck with an explosion. The dust settled. Sanity asserts its rule on Ragnar's mind. The question returns. In such an abrupt meeting there is only one way to greet each other.
Both aimed their weapons at each other.
John counted at least 6 target. Not a fair fight, he thought. One of them steps up. Seeing past his poorly kept hair and beard was a poise and hard eyed stare that tells he is the leader of this squad. When he spoke, John saw large fangs.
"My thanks for your assist, guardsman. Your training saw the swift end of the beast we fought. Although I have to admit I have never seen a mortal kill like you." he spoke. "Who are you? What is your regiment?"
"Let's take this carefully." Cortana said from inside his helmet. She didn't need to tell him that. John was quiet. More than that he was confused. They are human. They look human. But they are as large as a Brute. He had been .He had been to the rotten core of the military before and was privy to their secrets. But giants? His thoughts drifted to Professor Halsey. Perhaps this is another of her experiments, a descendant of the Spartan project?
"I know you aren't mute, mortal." Said the lead giant." Answer my question or I will relieve your head from your body."
John looked at their oversized weapons. A submachinegun in their hand, a missile launcher in his. A sword in their hand, a great sword in his. An axe in their hand, a slab of metal in his. Then there was another, older looking warrior who carries an energy weapon so large that it might have been dismounted from a tank.
Cortana scanned their armor. Almost 5-inch thick of impact resistant material. That kind of protection has Cortana relate them literally a humanoid tank. And they moved fast, almost as fast as he does.
He rephrases his assessment. This will turn from an unfair fight to lopsided if shit hits the fan.
John slings his weapon to his back, mag-locking it with a dull thud. Diplomacy would be the best course of action. "I am Sierra Spartan 117, Petty Master Chief Jon, Blue Team's leader."
Blue Team Leader? What does that bloody means?" Said one of them. John's first impression from the words slurred from his lips: Lack of discipline.
One of the giants steps in. He's big and his deathmask was imposing. What made John lost his tension on him was the fact the giant looks at him with great fascination. Almost childlike. "Your armor, boy." There was a mechanical crane on his shoulder. It moves close and around but refrains from scratching John's armor. "Fascinating. I've seen power armors from the Kaskrins before. But none of them looked like yours. Are these new from the Astra Militarum?" The optic lense on his left eye whirred and clicked as it focus and refocus. "What's this now? An Iron Halo? In a mortal's power suit?" The Iron Priest said with mounting excitement.
John was getting lost in this detour of a conversation. Kaskrin? Astra Militarum? Iron Halo? What are these... people are talking about?
"I don't know what you just said, but I am from Earth's UNSC."
"Earth?" Said the foul-mouthed giant. His words echoed in the lips of another (Grey Hunter).
"Earth? You speak of Holy Terra?" Asks the lead giant.
Terra was another name for Earth so John answered, "Yes," with 90% certainty.
"What are you doing here? No... How DID you get here? Holy Terra is thousands of light years away." Said Ragnar.
"My ship was seriously damaged after destroying a Halo structure. A mishap during hyperjump had me drifting in space for almost 4 years. Then (according to Cortana) a black hole suck my ship in and here I am."
"A Halo structure you say. So you were on a mission to destroy some xeno civilization." Said the lead figure. "I never heard of the likes of them. Must be indeginous species."
"They are a galactic threat." John answered. How could they not know of the Halo structures? "Their technologies have the power to destroy all life in the galaxy to starve out the Flood."
"The Flood? What is the Flood?"
"Seriously? Have these blockheads lived in a hole somewhere?" Cortana spoke in his helm.
Then the cannon totting giant speaks. "I sensed there's a lot of confusion in this talk, Ragnar. But I think we should do this when we're in safe space."
"I would like to know more to be sure."
"We knew enough that he's not an enemy. And if he is, the boy is hardly a threat to us. We don't have time for another 10 questions."
The lead giant sigh in surrender. "Yes," He said with a nod. "Yes, you're right." The lead giant approached him. At full height, John only stood up to his chest. But stood fast he did. There was no fear in him. He, his team and every damn fine Marines in the UNSC had gotten used to fighting things that are bigger than them, had better toys than them.
"I am Ragnar Blackmane, Wolf Lord." He makes the sign of the aquila on his chest, indicating his loyalty to the Imperium. "The fool over there is my brother, Sven. Wolf Lord in his own term.
"Watch your bloody self," grunted Sven.
Ragnar ignored his remarks and gestured to the giant with the crane on his shoulder. "This is Jurgen, Iron Priest."
He gestures to the cannon wielding giant, then the Zwihander wielder and the axe wilder. "My wolf guards: Vkarl, heavy specialist. Zorix, my champion. Akletto, Wolf Shield"
"A pleasure to meet you, sirs." John replied curtly. The spirit of his fearlessness echoed in his voice. He replied as if he was talking to another human.
In that instant Ragnar was inwardly impressed. Surprised even. Humans who have witnessed a being like him would quickly falter or fall to their faces, all fighting spirits lost. They would offer fealty and, Allfather forbids, worship. They simply didn't have the mental fortitude to come to terms with what they are seeing. They coined the condition 'Transhuman Dread' or 'Transhuman Awe' depending on which side you're on.
But this man. This man before him didn't even flinch nor fear in the face of 6 Astartes staring down at him. And his little act had earned a measure Ragnar's respect.
"How is it, Jurgen?"
Jurgen shakes his head. "No good, my Lord. She is dead. We can't use her to move quickly."
Ragnar looks at the long stretch corridor of the monorail track. "Then we have to march on foot."
They have been marching almost an hour.
"We were sent here to investigate an Astrnomical distress signal." Ragnar breaks the monotony. "Upon landing we found nothing but butchered bodies. At first we suspected it was the works of Khorne Berserkers. But after venturing forward we discovered something else, worse than either Chaos or Tyranids."
"What are we fighting against?" John asked.
"We aren't sure." Jurgen said. "But what their corpses can tell us that they were... corpses."
"I don't follow, sir." He add the 'sir' so that they felt respected.
"I meant what I said, boy. They were corpses. Human corpses. From our bioscans their genetic stucture said as much. What I can speculate is that upon death most of them were transmuted to become the enemy we're fighting against."
"So we are fighting hordes of zombies." Said John. It seems that the Flood isn't the only species that could reanimate corpses. He was just about to conclude this as such when Jurgen's next words made him take an unaccounted gasp.
"We couldn't find any hint of biohazard outbreak to make them turn." Said Jurgen.
"The powers of Chaos is at work here. Look at the bloody walls." Sven points at the writings on the wall. "It's bloody damn obvious."
"They're not Chaos, Sven." Vkarl said. "I don't know what they are, but Chaos didn't have a hand in this." Vkarl said. The others didn't question the words of their Long Fang. He had seen much and lived to tell.
"They smell exactly like the dead." Ragnar continued where Vkarl had left off. "Because of that our nose can't tell them apart from those that are truly dead. Because of that too we were ambushed not long into the mission. Few of my brothers were slain by them."
Zorix and Arkletto were kneeling beside the prone form of Arngeir, mourning their loss and extracting his gene-seed.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I am a soldier, boy. Death, be it my own or one of my Wolf brothers are merely an occupational hazard. What saddens me is that we cannot recover my brother's gene seeds. Not with this strange curse befallen this ship..."
He wasn't quite sure about this curse he mentioned, but he did see Jurgen mutters some kind of prayer before Vkarl torched their remains with his plasma cannon. Religion is still a vital facet in humanity's society, even after they travelled the stars. But to see it intergrated into the army seemed absurd to him. "What are gene seed? What is that?"
"Our most sacred protogens. The seeds will be extracted from the fallen. The Apothecaries will nurture these seeds into specialized organs in their labs and be gifted to Initiates and turning them into a full fledged Space Wolf like us. You can say that the new Wolf carries the legacy of the fallen Wolf this way."
So they are posthuman soldiers like himself. Though their methods were far different than what made him. Organic implantation to go on top of enhancement drugs no doubt. That would rendered him obsolete. Even so, humanity needs their soldiers to protect their interests. Be it a giant, a super soldier, or your Average Joe Marine. It doesn't matter who is obsolete or otherwise.
"What is your current objective, sir?"
"We have seen enough of the ship. The crew is dead and there's nothing worth to salvage from this ship."
"I disagree, brother." Said Jurgen. "This ship predates the Dark Age of Technology. This might be a good opportunity to learn from it."
"I understand how you feel, my mechanical brother. But the treasure isn't worth the risk for this ship is tainted with some dark power akin to Chaos, or worse. We cannot risk it being brought aboard to another ship. It must be destroyed. We must return to the battle barge and have it send this accursed ship into Hel."
Jurgen analyzes Ragnar's explanation and find no fault in his logic. He knew Ragnar was right. "As you say brother."
"Where is your ship, John?" Asks Ragnar.
"About 1 kilometer from where we killed the monster. But mine is too damaged to ever fly again."
"I see. Ours are perched at their main hangar. It's about 5 levels down from here."
"Considering the enemy that we faced, it is a long way to salvation." Vkarl noted.
"Indeed it is. I still have two more drums for my Storm Bolter." Ragnar turns to his squad. "Brothers, how goes your armor and ammunition?"
Vkarl answered first. "I only left one more plasma reactor to feed my weapon. If the situation demands it, I can set it to overload and blast these twice dead to Hel."
Arkletto answered next. "My axe is thirsty but I can still slay our foe even without the power. 5 boltpistol clips remains, brother-sergeant."
"Zorix?" Ragnar called. "Zorix." Ragnar called again when he didn't answer. The Wolf Lord's countenance was solemn. He walks with shoulders stooped like a man walking to his execution. Ragnar looks at his sword arm. Blood had scabbed and crytsallized where the monster had punctured the armor. He was clearly broken. Physically and spiritually.
Arkletto answers in his stead. "Zorix still has 5 boltpistol clips with him. His Zwihander is still full of power, brother-sergeant."
Ragnar only nodded. Zorix his dearest battle brother is next to useless to him in the next battle. The lost of Arngeir had cut him deeply. "Jurgen? Sven?"
Sven cocks his Bolter. "Six." He aswered with a smile.
"I still have 4 melta magazines. Praise be the Omnissiah."
"And you?" Ragnar turns to John. "What have you left?"
"8 Assault Rifle magazines. 10 pistol clips. 2 grenades."
Practically in full kit, Ragnar thought. "Good. We can still fight. And we will need it to reach our ship."
The path was blocked by a sealed door. "Jurgen, break it open."
Jurgen approaches it. His servo arm moves with surgical procedure and lances the melta cutter in between the crevice of the door where the locks would be. Jurgen mutters prayers to the Omnissiah as the process take place. It seems everything was going smoothly.
That's when the cutter died. This gets the attention of everyone. Jurgen included. In his helm a picture of the servo arm flashed red.
"All is well, brother?" Asks Vkarl.
Jurgen shakes his head. "No good. My melta cutter is damaged in our last encounter with the creatures."
"Then we blast the bloody door open." Sven takes out his Bolter mag-locked on his hip. He was about to fire when Ragnar grab a hold his weapon.
"No, Sven. There's several more doors barring us from the Thunderhawk. It will be a waste of ammo. Besides, forcing the door open this way will attract more of them to us."
"If you have a better idea please voice it out, brother." Sven said with some impatience.
"Sir."
Ragnar turns when he heard John spoke.
"I think I can get it open."
Ragnar and Sven looks at each other and looks back at John. "Very well, boy. Go on."
John examines the door. Its design was similar to those he sees in other ships with the exception there was a holographic "Locked" word projected at the center. He checks the panel on the side and found a keycard slot. He takes out Cortana's chip and slots her in. In an instant the Locked sign was gone, replaced with the blue figure of Cortana.
"Arse of Russ!" Sven growled. Him and the rest of the Space Wolves train their weapon at her, their Astartes physiology make it looked instantaneous.
"Hold your fire!" John shouted. It was only at his last sentence did he realize that he had his rifle aimed at them. It was instinctual reaction.
Cortana's appearance caused John and the Space Wolves to shout back and forth at each other. He have six very large targets to choose. They had only two. His rifle switched between targets he'd feel would be pulling the trigger at any moment.
"Stand down! Stand down!" Ragnar was walking from one Astartes to another, forcing them to lower their weapons. "Do NOT fire unless I give the order, damn you all!" Ragnar bares his fangs in frustration. He didn't want to admit it, but the criticism of the Imperial Fists saying the Sons of Russ are anything but orderly rings true.
"It is a demon!" Sven shouted. "A ghost he brought with him!"
"Ghost my ass, goat-beard." Cortana said with annoyance.
"You're not helping." John said with gritted teeth. She's making this situation worse.
"What the Hel did you-"
"You heard me, asswipe!"
"I'll will end you!" Sven shouted.
"Go on! Take your best shot!"
"ENOUGH CORTANA!"
"ENOUGH SVEN!" Ragnar and Master Chief shouted at the same time. Both their patience were stretched to the limit by their unruliness.
Ragnar and John turned to each other, Ragnar gave a small smirk, and even with John's visor on, he could tell he did the same.
"I'm..." Cortana's voice was soft again after regaining her composure. "I'm sorry, John. I just..."
"I know. I know." Master Chief said calmly. She's indeed approaching the end of her service life.
As for Ragnar, he got into his brother's face. He softly, making sure that their unknown companion didn't hear. "Sven... My brother. I love you but you are making a fool of us with your rash behavior. For the sake of the honor of Russ, please stop this or so help me I will do it for you." Sven looked at his brother-sergeant in the eye and saw the weight of his words. He slowly lowers his weapon, mag-locking it to his hip. "As you say, brother. I'm sorry."
"Aye." He turns slowly to John. "Who is that you are carrying with you, John?"
"This is Cortana. She's an AI and she's a friend."
"AI? What is that?"
"Artificial Intellingece." Cortana aswered. "Man-made lifeform in cyberspace."
"Artificial- A Machine Spirit." Jurgen said with amazement. Jurgen approach, and inspected Cortana "By Russ, this spirit is almost Human, this design is much different from our tech Mechanicus."
"I was created by another human a long time ago. Aside from having human emotions, I can undestand and operate any tech like you drive a car. Please." She gestures to the control panel. Her eyes closed briefly as her programming diagnose its condition. "I see. The door isn't damaged. It appears that the door is on lock down due to power outtage. This door and the rest of it in this sector too. A standard safety protocol of any ship."
"Can you reroute any available auxilliary powers to get the door open?" Asks Master Chief.
"No dice, Chief. Nothing is is available at the moment."
"What do you suggest we do, Cortana?"
She brings up a diagram of the ship for everyone to see. "This is the ship's nuclear generator. For whatever reason it has powered down. I can't remotely turn it back on from here. Someone has to go down and manually restart it."
"I see. Thank you, spirit." Said Jurgen with unexpected politeness. "Dare I ask how we journey on the the reactor."
"Through there. The maintenance." Cortana points at a sealed door. It was smaller than the one they needed to pass through. "It's 7 floors below us. Just follow the yellow line and the signs and you should reach the reactor in no time. But..."
"The door is stuck." John said.
"The door is stuck." Repeated Cortana.
Jurgen reaches to the back of his power armor and pulls out a long cable. "My servo arm has a seperate power generator to operate. Just tell me where to feed this beast."
Under the instructions of Cortana, Jurgen gently pushes a metal panel on the wall beside the maintenance door with two points of his finger. The panel dents and screws pop out of place under the titanic pressure, revealing a mess of cable. He tears out a thick green one and hotwires it to his cable. The control panel blinks a weak green before sliding two centimeters apart before dying once more. Sven and Arkletto forces the door open the rest of the way.
"Well." Jurgen checks his melta rounds before slotting the magazine back into his bolter. "The machine spirit of this ship as gone asleep. Let's give it a rude awakening."
Without power, Master Chief and the rest of the Space Wolf have to improvise at times to navigate through the cramped space of the maintenance corridors. They had to destroy the dead maintenance elevator and climb down the lower levels. They have to cross over a narrow thin bridge one Wolf at a time because it wasn't made to support their weight.
"Blasted Morcai..."
"What..."
It was everywhere. Like cancer growing rampantly within the body, flesh matter has spread around the generator room. They almost cover the entire wall in the sector. Their color was the color of disease, like rotting flesh. Blood and pus oozed down, pooling around the floor. The stench was overwhelming. Even with the filters, Master Chief can still smell the rot in the air. But that wasn't what had them transfixed to the room.
Bodies. There are bodies everywhere. But these are different. The mass of flesh and grown over their hands and legs, trapping them in place on the walls. and ceilings.
"What kind of madness is this?" Arkletto whispered. There was no fear in him. Fear is an alien concept to an Astartes.
"This is the work of Chaos." Sven answered. "The sons of Father Nurgle is behind this."
"No, this is no work of Chaos, Sven." Vkarl answered.
"What more can it be if not Chaos!?" Sven growled back.
"If it were Chaos, brother..." Vkarl looks directly at Sven. His eyes were like silver pearls hidden under the dark sunken depths of his sockets. "I would feel its pressure like a noose on my neck." Vkarl looks at the surroundings. "This... This is something different."
Help...
Everyone spun around to the source of the voice. Weapons drawn at superhuman speed. One of the bodies stirred. A female human cranes her neck up and looks at them with weak eyes.
Help...
"She's alive!" Arkletto takes three large steps towards her. "Don't worry lass. We'll get you out!" Arkletto glances at her condition. He hacks the mass of flesh on her right. Large amount of blood spurt out from the vertical wound. The human girl screamed in pain as a result.
"Make..." She said.
"What?" Arkletto leans closer to hear better. He leans back and repeated her words with confusion. "Make us whole? What-" Tentacles burst out of her chest, coiling at his hands, waist and neck. Despite how thin it looked the flesh was surprisingly strong, stopping Arkletto mid-sentence.
"Make us whole!" The girl screamed. Her voice rings across the metallic walls of the generator room. She looks at Arkletto with eyes wide with madness. "Make! Us! Whoooole!"
Suddenly her head was gone in a burst of red mist. More weapons fire and be heard from behind and the girl was torn to pieces by a series of explosions. With a heave, Arkletto tore himself off from the loose organ that held him there. "Bitch!" He cursed as he feels his neck.
But the nightmare didn't end there. More of the dead bodies woke from their slumber. At first there were moanings. The moanings became whispers. The whispers became words. The words became chants.
Make us whole...
Make us whole...
Make us whole...
Make us whole...
Make us whole...
Make us whole...
Make us whole...
Make us whole...
"We must hurry." Ragnar urged. "This place will become a slaughterhouse soon."
"Haha!" Sven releases the safety with a click. "Battle at last! About time these bloody things start showing up!"
Ragnar nodded "Good, looks like we get to fight on lads." turning to John. I have a Thunderhawk docked 5 levels down. However everything became lock down when the monster destroyed the bridge controls, we have no way of opening any doors risking our remaining ammunition.
"I guess that's my queue, yank me" Came Cortana, voxing thru John's helmet.
John inserted Cortana's disk into the door's wall-frame.
Cortana emerged, turned and faced the console.
Judging from the entire system, the main power is out which made the lock down permament. In order to do so we need to reactive it, main power room is 7 floors down." Said Cortana as a side entrence door hissed open.
"I was able to divert what remaning power to open that door, the bridge has it's stand alone generator but with limited functions. That door will take you down but the entire way is darkened, we won't be able to see anything. I advise you to let me stay in the system to help guide however i can."
"This spirit speaks the truth, i can feel the machine spirit in this hel hole completely silenced. It would need a rude awakening" replied Jurgen as he primed his plasma pistol.
"What are the chances of meeting more of this monsters on our journey towards our objective? Asked John
Can't say, but do not take them lightly. According to record this station and its crew were completely wiped out within 2 hrs. Catiuoned Cortana.
"Wolves we go for a HUNT!" Roared Sven
The group ventured into the Darkness at high alert, guns trained and their fingers tensed. Every ounce of sound that appears jerks the entire group.
"I bloody wish they just come out already, i am getting bloody irritated with all these anticipation" grumbled Sven.
John approached Ragnar "Does he always talk like that?"
Ragnar turned "Yes, and careful lad, remember what i told you about our keen se..."
"YOU GOT A BLOODY PROBLEM HUMAN?!" Sven roared.
Right before John could reply, Ragnar stopped the group.
"Did you hear that?"
"Sounds like wings my lord" replied Akletto as he readied his shield.
Out of the darkness came the winged monsters, dozens of them.
"Wolves! Conserve ammo, single shots!"
As on the bolter fire came in sequence, felling many of them. John fired short bursts as one tried to grip his face. The wolves were carnage in terror, when bolter fire aren't enough to finish them, their axes or swords did the rest. Slicing them cleanly in half, letting the entrails drop onto the ground. Some were smashed by their oversized bolters and blood splashed against their armor.
Jurgen mechanical arms helped protect his blindspots as if they had a mine of it's own. It's limb has a surgical attachment or mini version bolter. Grabbing one and ripping it apart while firing at another. John was still amazed at their sheer ferocity and superiority
Vkarl was having a hard time, he was the only weapon specialist, his plasma cannon was running critical with each spent shot buring through the horde, melting them like butter. With his free hand he swung his energy axe, the monsters couldn't give him suffcient breathing space to cool it and to cover his brothers. He spun and decpaitate one monster, swung his cannon and smashed right into it's decapitated body sending it crashing towards the wall.
One Infector was crawling on the ceiling, slowly towards Vkarl, using the shadow as cover. Vkarl was too occupied with two slashers, blocking one attept of piercing his skull with his plasma cannon, while disembowling the other not before crushing its head with his cremite boot. Twisting his wrist to a verticle cleave towards the other, splitting it groin to skull. The Infector lunged right as Vkral lowered his guard and it's implaler reached for his head. At the last second Vkarl blocked it with his Vembrace and the impaler went straight thru, howling in rage he smashed it to the wall and fired his plasma cannon point blank. It blasted him off his feet, several metres away from Ragnar. Ragnar saw him unconscious, armor blacken and beard roasted, more necromorphs converged on him. With a rage he swiped his blade across and sliced 3 necromorphs in half, their upper bodies still moving towards him. Ragner finished them with well placed bolt shots.
More and more were coming and the wolves bolter fires were clattering on the ground.
Sven roared "If we do not bloody move! We will get bloody swamped!" as he incinerated two more infectors.
Vkarls plasma cannon was over heating, one more shot should overload it, Ragnar thought. While doing so, Ragnar kicked the gun towards a wall and fired a burst towards it.
"If you do not want your hide to get burnt, i suggest you move away!" Warned Ragnar while dragging Vkarl to a safe zone. As one, everyone moved while covering, next heartbeat the wall exploded with bluish flames.
Ragnar did not have time for Vkarl to wake up, so he gave him a hard slapp, which seem to have woke Vkarl with a startle.
"Did you just slapped me?" Vkarl ask groggily. His eyes were still rolling.
"By Russ i did, you can't be sleeping, we need killing!, cover your hide as i pull drag your hide" Smirked Ragnar and he passed him his Bolt gun.
"WOLVES! WE ARE LEAVING!". Ragnar and Vkarl were the first thru, Vkarl blasting apart any that tried to get close. John was by the hole firing at the necromorphs as the other wolves slowly backed into it.
Jurgen came to a stop on the other side, it was a cargo bay depot. He scanned the surroundings and found a crane on the other side, fortunatly it was still holding on to a large container.
"Lord Ragnar, i found a way to seal the hole, but i require time and abit of luck. I could seal that hole to buy us some breather."
"Well whatever it takes to stop those hel spawns. Do it!"
Jurgen did not wait for reply and made his way up.
"Akletto, Zorix hold that breach!" ordered Ragnar.
John was in the opposite side firing on what made thru the defense with little ammo he has left in his Rifle, he checked his inventory, 2 spare clips and 2 frag grenades.
Vkarl was back on his feet, blacken but vicious. He added his Axe to the hold.
"This is a bloody predicament we are in" Grunted Sven. His voice tired and gnarly. "Could it bloody get any worse?"
" My lord, controls are fried, i cannot fix it." Voxed Jurgen
Ragnar looked at Sven "You had to say it"
"I guess today is where make our way to the Allfather."
Akletto was getting weary and losing focus, his left arm has three impaled thorns in it, rendering his arms useless. Zorix lost his helmet and his face had a large diagonal scar, bleeding profusely.
"Cortana, are you still there? Can u overwrite the system?" Asked John.
"What am i? A potato? Activate console." retorted Cortana
"Jurgen! Get some power into the Console so Cortana can control it!" John came infromally.
Normally such informal behavior would be backhanded by Ragnar, but at the current situation he'll let it slide.
As soon as Jurgen was done, Cortana was in the system immidietly.
"Over-riding console, 30 seconds!" You boys better move back!
The crane was directly about the hole now, and detached the container.
The wolves retreated at the very last second as it dropped on any emerging necromorphs and it sealed the hole.
They were safe.
For now...
*that's it for now, taking this time to move to Australia and starting a new life, the story will continue and new horrors will appear. Cheers!*