Wham! The building fell like a tree in the forest. And yes, it did make a sound. Dust flew into the air, a mini whirlwind in the desolate remains of the city. The two marines that were on patrol whirled like tops, looking around for whatever had dropped the towering structure. No sign of any hostiles, but enemies could spring from nowhere like seeds, and be gone like a dream before one could reload or take aim. The marines kept their rifles ready as they trekked across the wasteland, their trail of footprints like a path to Armageddon. The younger of the two spoke up. "I can't stand it here. Walking around this desert of a city is like finding your old house demolished; all you can think about is how it used to be. Before the Covenant came, anyway."
The senior officer nodded. "I know, son. I know." He was about to say more, but a low thrum, like that of a vast hummingbird, filled the air. Both marines turned, weapons trained at the sky like the rifles of bird hunters. A strange craft flew overhead, its purple frame glinting. Twin lasers on its wings fired, and blue beams erupted forth, coming at the marines like angry bees. Both soldiers ran, ducking and weaving through the concrete jungle, shots flying all about. They hid behind what looked like a ruined semi truck, pausing to catch their breath. The younger marine dropped his rifle, and pulled his rocket launcher from its holster on his back. He rolled out from behind the semi, firing at the attacking ship. The rocket flew like a hawk, but with considerably more firepower. The rocket slammed the ship's power source, sending the attacking craft smashing into the ground, where it exploded. The older marine rose from hiding, with a smile like he had just won the lottery. "Not bad, kid." he said, clapping him on the back. "You've dropped your first Banshee. That should teach the alien scum not to mess with the Fighting 878th."
Spoken to soon, as it happened. A hail of laser fire rained on them like arrows of old, fired by a group of aliens that were in the process of charging the marines. "We got Brutes! Run!" yelled the old marine, drawing his rifle like a sharpshooter and dropping one of the invaders. The other man hesitated. "I said go!" yelled the senior, firing again, but missing. The other man gulped and ran like a gazelle. As soon as he was out of sight, the senior pulled out a grenade from his belt, a dangerous glint like that of a rodeo rider in his eye. "For good old Mother Earth." he said, and pulled the pin. As the attackers reached him, it detonated, and a blast that echoed like thunder ripped through the desolate streets of what was once New York.