Chapter 39: the Fall of Earth

-(++)-


"A Covenant Energy Dagger?"

"Not exactly. A serrated blade coated in super-dense, superheated plasma. As sharp as a diamond-coated combat knife sandwiched between two Energy Daggers. Forearm-mounted and activated by thought through your Neural Interface. Strong enough to sever alien flesh and bone, the blade allows you to attack where conventional weaponry is ineffective or unavailable. I have dubbed it…"

"Wait, you even nicknamed the equip – "

"The Spartanblade."

"…we need to talk about this new habit of yours."

- Archived conversation between UNSC CTN 0452-9 and Master Chief Petty Officer John-117

-(++)-


Earth. Humanity's homeworld, the cradle of human civilization. Returning there was exhilarating. Frightening. Humanity had a target the size of a Dreadnought painted across their name, but nothing that could stand between her and the Reapers. No vast armadas, no defence stations or automated weapons worth a damn. The Alliance's peaceful history had been its ally, but now it had condemned them.

Jane wished there was something she could do. Something practical to keep her busy, or at least distracted. She wouldn't have minded hauling boxes as this point. Chief was out doing who-knew-what and the other Spartans just departed for the Infinity. The UNSC"s biggest, baddest warship and it would likely be sitting out this entire mess.

Two years since the Reaper threat revealed itself and the galaxy was still stuck up its own ass.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," someone playfully spoke into her ear, breaking the silence.

Startled, Shepard snapped to attention and looked to her right. She still had to get used to Cortana's new ability to manifest an avatar on human scale like that.

Not that she would complain about that. She was beautiful to look at and, most importantly, happy.

"You do?" Shepard replied, more out of politeness than actual curiosity. There was no saying what new tricks Cortana had picked up here, now that Millennia had helped her back on her feet. For all she knew, Cortana really did know what she was thinking. That thought should have frightened her, but she felt a bit…detached at the moment.

"You're wondering where your awesome Forerunner upgrades are."

That came as a surprise. But, if she took a moment to think about, Cortana once again managed to pinpoint exactly what bothered her. The bigger picture aside, of course.

"Not the words I would have chosen. I guess that she didn't have much to work with, when compared to the Chief's suit," she replied, hoping that she wouldn't sound too bothered. "It's just…I can't substitute for one of his Spartans."

"Hmm. I can relate. Still, it's not that your suit is incompatible with Forerunner upgrades, it's more that Millennia doesn't really trust you. Or like you, for that matter," Cortana pointed out matter-of-factly.

Jane rolled her eyes. Great. The most dangerous entity in the galaxy took a disliking towards her. "She's just jealous that I'm more of a people person than she is."

Cortana snorted. "That's a very low bar to clear. Still, I get where she comes from – "

"Cortana," Shepard said, gasping with mock shock.

"Har har. Are you familiar with the saying "the Sins of our Fathers"? She has a connection with the Spartans, whether she wants it or not. A part of her resides within them. Within me. So, she can't trust anyone but the Spartans with her technology. Maybe she'll come around."

Shepard crossed her arms. With what she knew about the ancient AI, that only made sense. She wondered what that must be like, to be unwillingly bound together by fate. "That's alright. Can't say I blame her."

"Still, it's not very nice. So as always, I've taken it upon myself to do some digging. You're not compatible with the standard MJOLNIR, even with your augmentations. However…"

Cortana paused for dramatic effect, that little tease. "Go on?" Shepard said.

"The UNSC Infinity has a full complement of next-gen MJOLNIR suits, cheaper, lighter and easier to use than the first-gen MJOLNIR," Cortana replied. Her smirk was enough for Shepard to guess what she meant. "We haven't departed yet, and the Infinity has to drop her hatch to allow Blue team and Doctor Halsey access. With the Upgrade Seeds maintained within this structure, I could turn Joker's leather chair into a Dreadnought, let alone a new suit of armour."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Shepard said. "You'd do that for me?"

Cortana snorted. "Don't sound so surprised! It's nothing compared the things you've done for us. Consider it a late parting gift, considering I…well, let's put that behind us now, shall we?"

"Yeah," Shepard said with a grin, "Let's."

While Cortana made her preparations for stealing a suit of armour from the Infinity, Shepard did some poking around. The last few hours had been a rollercoaster of conflicting emotions. But now that she had a goal, a real mission to concentrate on, she managed to put the majority of that baggage aside. By the time they returned to the galactic fold, everything would be different. With the Reapers on the offensive, the Citadel Council would finally focus on what needed to be done. If they had any sense at all, they'd set aside all enmity with the UNSC, the quarians, the geth and even Millennia herself. She wasn't sure about the Covenant or the Master Builder, but the more guns pointed towards the Reapers the better.

Shepard sighed. Overthinking things would only cause her stress. She needed a distraction, something to keep her from losing her freaking mind over all this.

The Forerunner structure, empty and unending as it was, offered no such distractions. Shepard wandered around for a couple of minutes, constantly reminding herself that she really shouldn't be touching anything. Sometimes, she stumbled upon a place that just screamed get out at her. Other times she came upon chambers that were even worse, enticing her with whispers and images that her tired instinct was only barely able to fend off.

This place is more fucked than the Reaper derelict, Shepard thought as she stepped through another wall of translucent light or energy or whateverfuckery stuff the Forerunners built with. When she saw what this room contained, she breathed a sigh of relief.

It was 003.

"Hey," she said, announcing her presence to the Spartan. He stood with his back turned towards her, carefully cutting off locks of black hair with his combat knife, his helmet attached to a hardpoint at his hip. His skin was almost as pale as John's, but he had the same crisscrossing scars in his neck. Didn't John mention that his augmentations were different? Clearly the procedure itself must have been similar.

He seemed to perk up when he heard her, but didn't turn around. Instead, he pulled his helmet from its hardpoint and slipped it over his head,

Oh, he was a Spartan alright.

"It's good to see you're still in one piece," the Commander continued as he turned to face her. "Wasn't sure where Millennia took you off to, either."

"I see."

Jane suddenly had flashbacks to the first days with the Chief, where he acted little more than a sentient set of armour. A bit fucked up that all Spartans were, essentially, incapable of functioning in a society. That meant the UNSC really had not foreseen any form of peace in their future.

"Last time I checked, you were falling apart," Shepard continued. "How are you doing now?"

"Fit for duty, ma'am."

The Commander suppressed a sigh. "You don't need to call me "ma'am". I'm not your Commanding Officer."

"I see."

Still, "fit for duty" could mean many things. He claimed that Millennia had taken a liking to him though, she would probably be alright.

"Can I ask you something?" Shepard then said, recalling a conversation she had with John, not so long ago. "The UNSC keeps referring to you as a rogue asset. You haven't done a single thing for personal gain, nor have you done anything to harm humanity. If anything, your actions have only been for humanity's benefit. You didn't sell out, didn't turn traitor."

Three remained silent, staring at her from behind that golden visor of his.

"Which begs the question, what did you do that made them burn you?"

The Spartan remained quiet for a long time. John did the exact same thing when Cortana and him talked things through, so Shepard kept her patience.

"We're not…like the SPARTAN-II project," Three eventually said. He spoke slowly, haltingly, as if it cost him great physical effort to even speak. "We completed operations that were never meant to see the light of day, with results that would severely discredit the UNSC, specifically Naval Intelligence, if ever declassified."

That painted a vivid picture in Shepard's mind. She immediately thought of counter-terrorism, blak operations and deniability. Real morally questionable stuff.

"So you know too much, and they're scared you're going to blow the whistle on them?" Shepard said, disgusted. For all their vaults, the Systems Alliance would never burn a soldier like that.

"Possibly. Sometimes, personnel learns about our existence. Sometimes, personnel with necessary security clearance denounces our existence," Three continued. "Whenever something threatens my unit, I clean it up."

Jane struggled to wrap her head around that. Partially because she tried to puzzle Three's personality and motivations together, partially because the subject just got even darker. "What do you mean, clean it up? Did you assassinate Naval Intelligence personnel? Eliminate them before they could get frisky?"

To that, the Spartan didn't respond. He insinuated, led her to valid conclusions but never verified. He maintained deniability when it was unnecessary, or even detrimental. That suggested conditioning instead of training. Hardcore Cerberus style.

More than that, Jane was starting to realize that his entire personality seemed like a contradiction. He rarely ever spoke, but when he spoke, he would divulge more details than necessary, and never clean ones. It was almost like he…like he constructed his perceived personality solely to push people away.

No, not just to push them away. Like he wanted to make them loathe him. Make them judge him. Why?

"That might be one reason they want you dead, yeah," Shepard admitted. "I've done a lot of crazy things, but I've never put down Alliance officials." She gave it another thought. "Not when there was another way. Not judging, by the way. Just saying that the Office seems fucked up, that you feel like you have been pushed into a corner like that."

"Right."

He retreated back into his shell. He said his piece and Jane doubted he wanted to speak another word. That was fine; she understood. She wouldn't pry.

Cortana chose that moment to ping Shepard's omni-tool, uploading what looked like coordinates into the device.

"Stay in touch, Three," Shepard settled for saying. "We're heading towards Earth next. The Alliance one, that is."

He didn't respond. Of course he didn't. If he was anything like John, that wouldn't be an issue. Jane just hoped she could count on him.

Cortana guided her to a large, empty space that seemed more like an empty hangar bay. It was about five meters across and both the left as right sections were sloped, with their highest point about half a dozen meters above the rest of the floor.

The other end of the hangar bay was dominated by a large, swirling ball of energy held into place by several beams of Forerunner metal. As the Commander entered the chamber, arcs of what looked like lightning sprang forth from the energy ball, seconds before an entire UNSC Pelican appeared from within. "

"Look at that!" Cortana's voice came from within Shepard's helmet. "I'm sure the Infinity won't miss one Pelican Gunship."

"Just like you're sure Millennia won't mind you using her equipment?" Shepard asked.

"It's fine. She explained how it worked, didn't she? 'There is a balance to the eventuality of your existence, your physical evolution', remember that?"

"Uhm – "

"Didn't think so," Cortana said before Jane even had a chance to speak. "It wouldn't make sense without context. In their last days, the Forerunners made sure to set certain eventualities into motion. Macroscopic plans like the establishment of an entire second solar system at the other end of the galaxy, to guarantee the safekeeping of humanity. But also microscopic plans, like placing certain…impressions within the genes of key individuals. Like that, several well-meaning Forerunners managed to guide humanity's development. These gene alterations developed for thousands of generations, even working to this day."

"I thought that meant the creation of the Spartans," Shepard mused. "Are you talking about you?"

"Hmm…not in that way. I don't quite understand it myself, but Millennia concluded that I am her responsibility now, and I don't mind that."

Shepard crossed her arms, watching the Pelican touch down. "Right. That's not confusing at all."

"I knew I should have picked Mordin instead. Alas."

Both women shared a laugh as a small swarm of drones followed the Pelican through the portal. Cortana wasted no time in opening the Pelican up. The drones quickly swept into its troop bay and emerged with a mannequin with a suit of red armour.

"This is the COPPERHEAD-class MJOLNIR armour, named after a species of venomous, carnivorous reptiles back on Earth," Cortana explained. "It is equipped with interior systems to exploit the complex region of human and alien societies. The Copperhead was built and designed from the very beginning to be used in covert operations and other "special activities", much like the original Spartans."

The armour was way different from John's. It was much sleeker, with less armour plating and a more streamlined frame. The visor in particular stood out to Shepard. It had something elegant, something refined.

"So basically, this suit was designed for covert ops?" She asked, reaching out to pick up the helmet.

"In cooperation with alien soldiers, yes. The thing is, MJOLNIR won't synergize with your Biotics very well. Energy Shielding will block the mass effect fields emitted from your nodes, rendering your Biotics rather neutered. However…"

Shepard chuckled. It had been too long since Cortana was this chatty.

"I think I can work around that. If remove the energy shield generator and replace it by a dark energy field emitter, it should produce a field of superior quality that would amplify, not hinder, your natural Biotic abilities. Although, it won't be the same as John's shielding. Think of it as more of a…miasma that envelops your suit, redirecting or absorbing fire."

That reminded Jane a lot of the Annihilation Field, a very specialized ability cooked up by a Biotic prodigy in the N7 Fury branch. "Huh. Neat."

"You're familiar with the Chief's old suit. Everything it had, the COPPERHEAD has too. Gel-filled layer to regulate your temperature, to reactively change in density. An inner structure composed of a new reactive metal liquid crystal that is amorphous yet fractally scales and amplifies force, as well as enhancing the reaction speed of a normal human by a factor of five."

"Does John know?" Shepard asked, not particularly eager to give the Chief another surprise.

"I might have been dropping some hints that you and I were going shopping, yes," Cortana replied. "Us girls need some us-time every now and then. Right now, John is linking up with Spartan-003, exchanging data."

"Let's not keep them waiting then," Shepard remarked. "Do I…?"

"Yes, you'll have to take off your N7 suit. Don't worry, I won't peek. Much."

"Charming," Shepard grumbled.

It felt strange to move on to another set of armour. The N7 armour had seen her through everything that the galaxy had thrown at her during her time with Cerberus. She built the best team this end of the galaxy had ever seen while wearing it. It had saved her life on dozens of occasions, from Freedom's Progress as all the way to Reach.

To her, the N7 suit was more than just equipment. It was part of her identity, the culmination of an entire life dedicated to the wellbeing of humanity.

How much of herself did she give to the UNSC now? How much of that even mattered?

Shepard stood absolutely still as the drones fitted the pieces of the MJOLNIR around her, assembling them around her body like a giant, three-dimensional puzzle.

"This is going to be a quick, but precise operation," Cortana said as the armour melded to the contours of his form. "I won't have the time for more upgrades. If you could nab a cloaking device in the coming days, I can bolt that on somewhere too. Oh, you can breathe normally by the way."

The MJOLNIR felt like a second skin . . . and much lighter than she first thought it would be. It heated, then cooled— then matched the temperature of her body. She didn't even feel any different; the suit truly carried itself.

Shepard pulled the helmet over her head. Suit status indicators pulsed to life. She saw a motion sensor, a targeting reticule and an entire elaborate HUD.

"I've reprogrammed the suit's software package to scale back the reactivity and the response. You don't have the augmentations to run this suit a hundred percent the way the other Spartans do."

Shepard tried to move forwards, but found herself struggling against the suit in its movements. It was almost as if it had a will of its own.

Cortana continued, as if completely unaware of the Commander's struggles. "The normal MJOLNIR is linked to the Spartan Neural Interface, an implant that facilitates connections between organics and synthetics. It translates thoughts to movements but, again, you lack the augmentations to run that without it horribly maiming you, so I removed that as well."

"Really," Shepard muttered, struggling to compensate for the suit's wild movements. Eventually, she managed to find that sweet spot between explosive movement and no movement at all. The next twenty minutes, Cortana slowly coached Shepard through the basic of walking and moving.

"It'll be a while before you can do any acrobatics or other fancy movements," Cortana finally said. "But this is going nicely.

Personally, Shepard felt like she was finally getting used to the hand-eye coordination in the suit. "It feels seamless. Flawless. And your people began mass-producing these things?"

"Generation 2 MJOLNIR production uses a spiral-development model, allowing the UNSC and its various corporate partners to iterate and evolve armour systems much faster and more efficiently than before," Cortana explained. "This generation of MJOLNIR focuses on integrating the vast majority of the armor's vital hardware systems within the inner techsuit itself, allowing for more streamlined production and easier implementation of specialized subsystems and armatures."

Shepard imagined whole platoons of soldiers running around in this GEN2 suit. "Maybe we've got a chance to stop the Reapers after all," she said.

"Oh, once everything falls into place we'll get much more than just a chance," Cortana replied. "But that's something us AI's will worry about. For now, I'll direct you towards the Chief. We're making the final preparations now. Won't be long before we hit Earth."

On her way to the hangar bay, Shepard contacted the Chief. "Cortana and I are done, I'm heading your way now. Are we taking the Guardian or something else? Because I doubt Hackett will appreciate the sight."

"The Alliance is familiar with the Guardian's design. It will worsen our odds of success. Cortana appropriated a Pelican Dropship for our own use."

"Can your dropships travel at FTL speeds?" Shepard asked, incredulous.

"No. Millennia will insert us into your Sol system through a portal from the Guardian. It will wait outside of the Sol system on notice to move."

That basically meant the Guardian was their Carrier. Hopefully that wouldn't get in the way of negotiations. She doubted Hackett would ever want to see that thing again. "I take it Millennia has no objections to us taking her ride?"

"Mom won't notice if we return it without paint scratches," Cortana chimed in. "Take a right here, Shepard. Portal is waiting. Noble Six, Doctor Halsey and Blue Team have returned to the Infinity and about to transition to Slipspace."

Shepard sighed with relief. That was one crisis taken care of.

The portal delivered her straight into the depths of the Guardian. When the nausea and the headaches subsided, Shepard found herself standing where they first met Lasky and Palmer. She stared down the Guardian's "spine", which stretched on for more than five-hundred meters. Millennia's Mainframe was dead ahead, with her heart lit anew. The largest structure in the galaxy.

The sheer scale of it all nearly overwhelmed her.

Dead ahead stood the UNSC Pelican, though this one was different from the others. The port and starboard sides each had a large, sturdy-looking machinegun attached to it. Missiles pods were attached to the Pelican's stubby wings and it looked like the forward section was about eighty percent gun, twenty percent cockpit.

A sobering sight for sure. It just screamed UNSC at her. She wondered how much the UNSC cared about the Reaper threat, when compared to the likes of the Covenant and the Forerunners. Probably very little.

Angry and out of fucks to give. Something everybody should aspire to, these days.

"Looks like your people upgraded," Shepard said as the cargo ramp of the Pelican lowered to the metal floor. It impacted with a metal clang, revealing that the inside was lined with weapons. Shotguns, pistols, sniper rifles and more of those Assault Rifles than she knew what to do with.

The Master Chief stepped out from the side of the Pelican, attaching a shotgun to a magnetic hardpoint on his suit. "Jane," he said, his voice betraying the smallest hint of surprise at her sight.

"Cortana figured we'd need all the advantages we could get," Shepard replied, gesturing at her chestplate. "What do you think?"

He was quiet for a couple of seconds. Then…"Heavy armour accentuates you."

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest. "Uh-huh?"

And then began the verbal backpedalling. "I mean, it is heavier than your N7 suit. Which was lighter. The armour plating on your shoulders and legs – it fits."

Jane chuckled. "Charmer. So, this is going to be our ride?"

"Dual 70mm triple-barrelled autocannons, side-mounted remote controlled machineguns and missiles," John explained. "I left Cortana alone for five minutes. Now, it has shields as well."

"Seventy?" Shepard replied, raising an eyebrow. "But you guys measure your calibre in projectile width. That's the size of a krogan quad."

"How," the Chief said with utmost seriousness, "would you know?"

Jane shrugged. "Morbid curiosity. Ready to see Earth again?"

Both of them knew that it wasn't the same, but she guessed that John hadn't seen his own version of Earth in a long time. Her people barely knew a fraction of the bloodshed and hardship his people went through. Maybe seeing her Earth would go him good. It was, after all, a reminder that peace was always a possibility.

"I want to see it's safe," John retorted. "I doubt we have the time for sightseeing."

Another Slipspace portal opened, revealing Spartan-003. He had the same upgraded version of the MJOLNIR as John had, but whereas John's was still a shade of olive drab, 003's was jet black. She guessed there was a theme to be discerned there.

The Spartan silently approached the Pelican dropship, not even stopping to acknowledge Shepard or the Chief.

"Hello Three," Shepard said before he could ascend the ramp.

He paused for a second. "Yes. Hello."

She'd take what she could get.

The Master Chief and her filed into the dropship after him. John immediately climbed into the cockpit. He glanced at Shepard, who took the hint and followed after him.

Seconds later, Cortana appeared on one of the consoles, "sitting" on the edge with her feet excitedly tapping against its steel frame. "The Guardian is primed and ready, and the Slipspace portal destinations are set. ETA to Earth: about ten minutes. Stars are the limit."

Millennia's avatar manifested right next to Cortana. Her appearance was different again. She wore a flowing red dress this time, and the only fire that manifested with her avatar swirled around her feet. She looked…elegant, for lack of a better description. Shepard, having never seen the wrathful AI appear in such a tiny avatar before, let alone in such a non-threatening appearance, was very much taken aback.

"You control the Guardian Custode, but are not in possession of it," Millennia pointed out. "If you allow our enemy to seize it, our night under the black stars will become never-ending."

Cortana gestured at the other AI with her thumb. "She means it's now officially part of the "Don't Fuck With This" armoury."

"A thought of mine shall stay aboard this vessel, to offer guidance and, if needed, protection," the AI continued, pointedly ignoring Cortana's quip. "Hurry along. The galaxy has not waited for our presence."

Millennia flickered like a candle, then disappeared. Cortana's smile wavered, her expression hardening. "Right. On it."

-(++)-


Vancouver

Alliance Headquarters

"Anderson? Anderson, sound off!"

Annah's eyes fluttered open. She didn't see much. Vision too blurry. Her head hurt. Arm too.

"Come on Admiral, we gotta move!"

The rough, charismatic voice of mister Johnson dispelled the confusion and fear that took hold within Annah's heart. She carefully rolled onto her side, then climbed back to her feet. Johnson stood over David Anderson's prone body, prodding him with his boot. When she moved, she caught his eye, and he turned around to look at her.

"You alright?" He asked, a hint of concern in his hard voice.

Annah nodded.

"Can you move?"

Annah nodded.

"Come on then, help me get the Admiral back on his feet."

Annah stumbled towards the two men, but then she remembered that she forgot to look around. Always watch your surroundings, he had taught her. Three-sixty degrees.

She turned in a circle. The Admiralty Board Room was gone. A section had been completely blown away when the Reaper struck. Glass lay scattered across the floor, mixed with metal splinters and fragments of wood. A couple of bodies, too. Burned beyond recognition. The ceiling had partially collapsed, burying a large section of the floor with rubble.

Next, Annah knelt down next to the unconscious Anderson. Johnson kept a close watch on the exit as she grabbed a hold of his right arm and shoulder, intent on getting him "back on his feet".

But then Anderson groggily opened his eyes and groaned with pain. "Shep…Shepard/? Are you alright?"

Strange. The first thing he thought about was Commander Shepard.

"Wrong again Anderson. Come on now, get on your feet!"

Johnson pulled him back up and slapped a pistol into his hands. Where he got the pistol from, Annah didn't know. She wouldn't question Johnson. Better not to.

"What's our situation?" Anderson asked as he patted himself down, brushing glass and pieces of marble from his uniform.

Johnson scooped up a discarded rifle from one of the dead guards and scoffed. "Up shit creek. Comms are out, Reapers are in. Last I heard, evacuation plans were being cooked up."

"Evacuations?" Anderson said. He winced, clutching his left side. "Then we need to get to the Normandy! She's the only ship that can get us out!"

"One moment. Annah!" Johnson suddenly barked. "Make a Biotic Barrier to stop enemy fire. Anderson and I have kinetic barriers, we'll be fine."

As Annah tried to muster the focus to envelop her body with her Biotics, Anderson and Johnson checked their weapons for thermal clips and checked the dead bodies. Johnson found a can of Medigel – presumably – and tossed it to Anderson, who loaded it into a special receiver of his omni-tool and ran the device over his side. Sealing his wound.

Since neither Annah nor Johnson knew the layout of the building very well, Anderson took the lead. Glass crunched underneath their feet as they followed him to the blown-out window, where the other people had been seated before the Reaper struck.

"See that? Maintenance walkway right underneath," Anderson pointed out.

Johnson hefted his rifle. "Got you covered."

Anderson went first, sliding down the slanted wall until he slammed into the walkway below. He rolled to an awkward still against the railing, but leapt to his feet almost immediately, his pistol at the ready.

Next went Annah, who finally figured out how to move without dissipating her Barrier by accident. She landed easily, unshaken by the drop. He once told that her body was different from other people. Enhanced, he called it. Maybe that was what she experienced now?

Anderson turned towards her as if wanting to say something, but the cityscape of Vancouver caught his attention. He leant against the ceiling and glared at the sight of what had to be up to fifty Reapers prowling the city, slowly but steadily crushing everything in their way as the moved to and fro. People fought back, but the fire they put out was useless.

The things were enormous when compared to the ships she had seen before. Even Annah, who had nothing to compare them against, felt fear tugging at her heart.

Anderson shook it off as Johnson dropped, wordlessly taking them along the walkway. They barely picked up the pace when a Reaper opened fire on something, no more than ten meters away. The impact shook Annah to her bones, and she automatically ducked for cover when the building struck exploded.

"Look out!" Anderson cried, covering his face with his arms. "How do you stop something that powerful?"

"Worry later. Pick up the pace!" Johnson yelled back.

They had to take a running jump where the Reaper had struck, as a whole section of the walkway had been blown away. From there, they dropped down a couple of meters and landed on the roof of another building.

Alliance fighters soared overhead, pursued by strange, spherical objects. One of those objects nailed the Alliance fighter and it crashed into a skyscraper right overhead.

"Come on! This way!" Anderson called. They went up a ladder and vaulted over a line of ducts. "Lieutenant Commander, you read me? I'm patching you over to Johnson!"

A stranger replied. "I located the Normandy. I've got Lieutenant Vega with me, but we can't risk it. Enemy opposition is too much!"

"If the Reapers nail the Normandy, we're cooked!" Johnson barked. "Wait until reinforcements!"

"Johnson's right, we can't risk that ship! Keep your head down until we're there!"

The two men were preoccupied and didn't notice a group of human-like figures climbing their way up a building to their right. They didn't look like real humans though; these ones grey and scarred, and sounded more like wild animals than people.

"Uhm…what are those?" Annah said, pointing at the creatures.

"Husks! Waste 'em!" Johnson ordered.

As one, the two men opened fire, perforating the "Husks" as the attempted to gain access to the roof. Annah drew her hand back, summoned a sphere of Biotic energy and hurled it at the centre of the Husks. The immense Biotic energy blew them all off the face of the building, sending them plummeting to the depths below.

But her Barriers were gone again. Damn.

"Nice job," Johnson said, but Anderson stared at her like he didn't even know she could do that. Johnson caught him staring and said, "Later."

From there, Anderson took them down a ladder and down a supporting structure that connected to another skyscraper. Annah spotted a door, but it looked like it was locked. Also, there were Husks running towards it.

Before she could warn them, the two soldiers opened fire and put the Husks down with expertly-placed headshots. One last Husk charged past them and leapt for Annah, but she easily caught it mid-air and threw it to the ground.

But then she drew a blank. What should she - ?

"Stomp it!" Johnson said, raising his boot. "Stomp the son of a bitch!"

Ah. Like that.

Annah brought her boot down on the Husk's head, hard. Very hard, in fact. Hard enough that she felt its skull explode underneath her heel. The result was very messy and she didn't know how to feel about that.

"Beautiful," Johnson commented, before making his way towards the locked structure atop the roof.

Annah looked down at the decapitated corpse. Beautiful? If he said so…

She concentrated on her Biotics and managed to conjure a second Barrier. There. Now they could continue.

"Damn, door's locked," Anderson said. "We'll need – "

The awesome noise of a Reaper horn tore through the air, seconds before a white-hot storm traced up the window and cleaved into the structure, which detonated a split-second later. The windows and door exploded outwards and the wave of pressure threw all three humans to the ground. A wave of shrapnel and heat washed over them and Annah felt her Barrier repulse the tiny pieces of metal and glass.

A large cloud of dust rose from the devastated building, obscuring their vision. Johnson coughed and slowly crawled back to his feet. Anderson, groaning, managed to yell, "Are you two alright?"

"Admiral, Lieutenant Commander Williams here! Enemies are crawling over the docks! No way we can fight through."

"Dig in and hold the area!" Anderson ordered. "We're coming as fast as we can!"

Johnson grabbed Annah by her arm and guided her into the building the Reaper just blew up. "Off the rooftops, towards the docks," he growled. The man looked up, spotting the shattered wreckages of Alliance ships burning up in the atmosphere. "Nobody's coming for us. We got to fight through!"

-(++)-


Aboard Forerunner Guardian

Within Saturn's south pole vortex

Ten kilometres above the storm that raged over Saturn's south pole, a vessel emerged from a massive Slipspace rupture. Ancient and decrepit, the almost draconic-looking structure remained perfectly untouched by Saturn's tumultuous vortex. Powerful computers and enigmatic machinery projected a navigation through the interlacing webs of quantum filaments surrounding and residing within the Forerunner vessel. Within a nanosecond, the vessel's proprietress had picked a path through the subatomic dimensions. A gentle push from the Slipspace generator was all she needed to generate a field within the heart of the Guardian, large enough to allow her chosen warriors to pass seamlessly into the alternate space.

Their route would return them to the cradle of their civilization on a course with no error larger than an electron's diameter.

She would wish them a favourable outcome, but knew that the galaxy was now beyond such kindness, and settled for merely observing them. The Didact's enemies. The Librarian's children. As of today, the inheritors of the Mantle.

The Master Chief sat in the seat of the Pelican's cockpit, blissfully unaware of the machinations that once again determined his fate. With Cortana's go, he sealed the hatch and ignited the engines, immediately pushing them to full thrust, sending the four of them rocketing through the Slipspace rupture.

The transition was seamless. They emerged a hundred kilometres away from the System Alliance's Earth. Far away enough that the Alliance had time to hail them, but close enough to make it to the surface regardless of the hail's outcome.

A holographic representation of the solar system appeared. An enlarged image of Earth floated gently in its centre. A few yellow dots were scattered around the planet. Alliance ships surrounding Earth, ranging from small Fighters to Heavy Cruisers. But something was wrong, terribly wrong. Hundreds more red dots had surrounded the planet, as well as a glistening expanse of debris. Broken lines of metal and dust, shattered hulls and smouldering metal. The red dots prowled the debris fields like hungry sharks, descending upon Earth. Yellow dots blinked out of existence every time a red dot passed them by.

"Oh no…" Shepard whispered.

The hologram changed. It showed dozens of jagged, black ships descending upon Earth, destroying everything in their way. The distinctive, ominous silhouettes of Reapers. And the debris field? The remains of the Alliance Fleet, most likely.

"Alert! Reaper threat at critical levels!" Cortana cried out. "Brace for evasive manoeuvres!"

Cortana gunned it and the tiny dropship rocketed towards Earth at an incredible velocity. The Alliance presence at Earth was minimal, extremely so. Nobody bothered to contact them. The Reapers must have hit them hard. Half of their invasion force had made landfall already. Resistance was practically non-existent.

The Chief corrected himself. This wasn't an invasion anymore. The Reapers had already won. The Alliance fleets barely stopped one of these monsters two years ago. Even the USNC at its height wouldn't be able to stop an armada like this.

"Goddamn it!" Shepard yelled. "How did they get to Earth already? Where is Hackett's fleet!"

Had Millennia known? Was that why she told them to hurry?

"Jamming software running. Spoofing activated. ELEMENT Package running at maximum output!"

Cortana put the dropship into a dense region of debris, dodged a chunk of metal and dove over a gutted Cruiser. Behind them, enemy fire impacted on the debris field and missed them by miles. The Reapers' welcome wagon.

"Cortana, find Admiral Hackett, Councillor Anderson and Sergeant Major Johnson," John ordered. He vowed to act and sound as calm as possible, hoping that it would help Shepard concentrate on the mission.

"The Fleet is gone…they must have pulled out," Shepard said. "Hackett couldn't hold Earth and he knew it. He wouldn't sacrifice the entire Navy for a hopeless holding action."

The Pelican arced under the wrecked remains of a Reaper and entered Earth's atmosphere. Cortana snapped with her fingers and the display changed yet again, this time showing a three-dimensional image of Vancouver. "The Alliance communication network is falling apart. The Reapers have also put up a jamming signal, which is not helping matters. From what I've managed to put together the Reapers struck about six hours ago, late in the afternoon. Johnson and Anderson were in a security meeting when the building got hit – hit hard."

As Cortana spoke, the image closed in on one building in particular. One half coloured red and disappeared and the other half was peeled apart, revealing its internal layout and a digital pattern traced through the building.

"Any idea where they went?" Shepard asked.

"Two possibilities. Placing the map overlay now."

Cortana uploaded a map of the entire area into their HUD; the scans showed the Alliance Headquarters and two other locations. One was designated as the Normandy landing site, while the other simply stated "shelter".

"Normally I would be able to track Johnson and Anderson by their omni-tools, but I need assets in geosynchronous orbit I won't be able to zero in on those. I could hijack what remains of the Alliance fleets to do so, but thanks to someone being incapable of subtlety, that would probably cause the crew a collective aneurysm. Instead, we'll be going by the two likely locations they would have gone. The first is the Normandy's landing site. She's grounded, and Reaper forces keep her from taking off. That would be the most likely location."

The Normandy was still intact. The Reaper IFF must have prevented the Reapers from spotting it, or at least keep them from blowing it apart.

"And this shelter?" The Chief asked.

"A secondary fallback location. An evacuation centre, or shelter. If the Normandy's location became too hot, or if something bad happened to her, Johnson and Anderson would most likely fall back to this shelter and dig in."

Two possible locations for their VIPs. With the tactical situation clear, the Chief already knew how to best utilize the team he had. "Spartan-003, you will head towards the evacuation centre. Shepard and I will find the Normandy. Once the assets are secure, we'll radio in for an exfil."

"Roger," the younger Spartan replied, getting up from his seat and grabbing both an assault rifle and a shotgun.

The Master Chief held on tight as the Pelican dropship surged towards the planet's surface. Cortana had its trajectory locked in, sending them straight towards the Alliance's HQ. Hundreds of objects plummeted towards it surface with them. The Chief saw single ships, fighters and Reaper drones, as well as other objects he couldn't recognize. Hundreds, if not thousands of angry streaks slashed through the planet's atmosphere.

Visual feed of the Reaper attack. It had taken entire fleets to stop even one of them. Now, there were hundreds of them descending upon Earth, ready to tear it apart.

The Covenant fleet gathered around planet Reach. They swarmed and circled like sharks. The first of their plasma bombardments launched toward the surface. Clouds in the fire's path boiled away – it happened in a flash before John's eyes – a flashback. But then he was back in the cockpit of the Pelican, silently reminding himself that this wasn't his Earth.

Commander Shepard watched the devastation with an impassive expression. John knew that her outward calmness was a lie. He knew, both from experience as the subtle tells in her body language, that a storm raged within her mind.

"They're not going to win," John told her. When she didn't respond, he put a hand on her shoulder and gently nudged her.

Jane took a sharp breath and quietly exhaled. She clasped her helmet on and he helped her double-check the seals.

"Passing by insertion point Alpha," Cortana's voice sounded within the cockpit. "Got a positive identification on Anderson and Johnson's last location. The good news is, they were not alone. Bad news is, they're not alone. We'll have to hurry."

Shepard nodded once, then turned her back to the viewscreen and returned to the Pelican's hangar. "Alright Spartan," she said, raising her voice so that 003 could hear her. "Enemy opposition is heavy. You ready?"

The Master Chief looked over his shoulder just in time to see 003 slam his fist against the hatch's release mechanism. Cold air blasted past him as he stepped towards the opening. The Pelican's engines pulsed and screamed as Cortana corrected their course.

As undaunted as any Spartan-II, the Operator flashed Shepard a quick thumbs-up gesture before he disappeared into the night. John knew, after the Citadel and Reach, that the Spartan wouldn't let him down.

"Good man," Shepard muttered to herself. "Cortana?"

"Four kilometres and dropping fast!"

An explosion suddenly rocketed the Pelican. The two soldiers instinctively braced.

"Brace for offensive action!" Cortana called out. The radar showed that a swarm of a Oculi trailed their dropship, herding them towards another group of Oculi dead ahead.

"Cortana, let her rip," said the Chief.

Cortana manifested her avatar within the cockpit, flashing a downright sadistic grin. "Gladly."

A split-second later, the Pelican Gunship brought her teeth to bear. As its powerful energy shields shrugged off everything the Reaper drones threw at them, it opened up with its dual GAU/53 70mm triple-barrelled autocannons. With Cortana in control, every single round went exactly where it was supposed to. Dozens of rounds punctured their armoured hulls and tore through their reactors. The group of Oculi meant to intercept them vanished from the radar.

"Shit I love UNSC ordnance," Shepard said. "Cortana, can you find the Reaper IFF?"

"Insertion point Bravo is coming up. Searching. The Reapers are trying to jam the signal, but I'm pretty sure the Normandy still has her IFF. I'll try to raise her. Ten seconds."

Together, the Master Chief and Shepard made their way to the aft of the Pelican dropship as it streaked towards Vancouver at incredible speeds. They bore down on the Alliance Headquarters, but it didn't look good. A Reaper blast had cracked the structure open like an egg. It was hard to imagine anyone surviving that.

The Pelican quickly spun around and hovered ten feet above the shattered remains of the top floor. A quick scan confirmed that the structure was stable enough to hold the weight of two Spartans.

John did one final check of his assault rifle, then dropped down. As soon as Shepard and him hit the ground, Cortana gunned it, sending the Pelican towards Johnson's last know location.

"Shit," Shepard muttered, lowering her rifle to take a good look at what had once been the military headquarters of the Systems Alliance. "That looks bad."

The Chief refused to believe that something like a building collapsing could kill Johnson. The Sergeant Major had survived too much for that. "They'll make it. We'll find them."

"I hope so, John…" Shepard cast him a dour look over her shoulder. "'Cause I don't know what I'm going to do if we don't."

-(++)-


Under the cover of night, unseen by either friend or foe, Alan made landfall into the middle of a warzone. He landed somewhere in the suburbs, surrounded by gunfire. Yellow tracer fire erupted from several locations around the city, but the Reapers were undaunted. They moved through the city at a leisurely pace, crushing anything in their way with their sheer mass. Every few seconds the night sky would lit up as another Reaper opened up with its beam weapon, obliterating yet another Alliance asset.

It was pandemonium. Civilians running for their lives, screaming and crying. Confused, scattered soldiers moving from one location to the other as they took fire from all directions. Alliance fighters and transports alike tried desperately to break through the enemy's air superiority.

Alan gazed up into the sky and watched as a massive, black vessel touched down mere kilometres away, vast enough to obscure the moon. It opened fire the instant it managed to support its own weight, cutting an entire skyscraper down at its base.

That way lay home, where the ground was salted, where boiling blood bubbled with the voices of the dead. His blood throbbed and pumped in his veins. The ashen air burned his lungs, the air a singing mixture of black clouds and red starlight. Not much left. Not much at all.

It wouldn't stop. It wouldn't ever stop. Another Earth, an entire galaxy away, and nothing had changed. The Reapers would continue until every last human was either harvested or dead. If it wasn't the Reapers, it would be the Covenant. If not the Covenant, the Council species would.

Had to kill them all. The aliens. The monsters. He had to kill them all.

Shouldering his rifle, the Spartan engaged his stealth systems and went on the move. The ground periodically shook as the Reapers moved about. Their troops swarmed through the suburbs. Hordes of grotesque humanoids with sickly-looking pale-blue skin. They howled upon spotting their prey – be it soldier or civilian – and sprinted their way like wild animals. Mass accelerator fire shredded their ranks, but there were so many of them. The Alliance soldiers didn't even have the numbers to stand their ground, let alone the organization or ordnance.

His new suit filtered out their radio transmissions. They were frightened, running on their teeth and about to be overrun.

Spartan Operators were not meant as conventional units. Completing the mission was all that counted, often to the detriment of other UNSC assets or even civilians. Alan's mission objective was clear; locate and extract Councillor Anderson and Sergeant Major Johnson. Nothing else.

With that in mind, the Spartan ignored the Alliance soldiers that were about to be overwhelmed and continued pushing towards the Councillor's last known location. But the Reaper forces that bore down on the Alliance resistance were but a small minority and soon, Alan found himself having to cross completely hostile territory.

Alan pushed through a dark alley that was littered with Husks, breaking the Husk that stood in his way without them ever learning he was there. The alley then opened up into what had once been a parking zone. The burning remains of an Alliance spaceship had crashed in the middle, the impact of which must have shattered every single window in the houses surrounding it.

Many signs of Alliance activity, however. Scattered bodies, wrecked vehicles and lots of spent heat sinks. What were they doing here? This area didn't hold any tactical advantages.

The answer presented itself a minute later, as the Spartan made his way through the buildings and decided to cut through the bombed ruins of what could have once been a mall.

The scene was a massacre. An evacuation gone wrong, likely. The ground was slick with gore. Long meters of entrails pocketed the scorched ground, only barely connected to their former bodies. Loose limbs strewn out across the ground, large pools of blood and pieces of viscera. The stores had been blown apart by the fighting, the streets outside covered with bullet holes and craters.

Worse, the AO was owned by Husks. Aside from the humanoid ones, the Spartan also spotted a group of larger, hunchbacked abominations with entire arms forged from the rotting remains of humans. They had four, glowing eyes and large, gaping mouths that seemed alit with blue light. The former ones just stood around, waiting for the next group of hapless civilians or soldiers to tear apart.

The larger ones were…feeding on the remains. Tearing into the remains of humans and Husks alike and shoving large fistfuls of meat into their gaping maws, further staining their mottled hides with crimson gore. The sounds were nauseating.

"Millennia, are you seeing this?" He whispered into a private channel.

Her voice, still cold and detached, came through his COM channel. "I am. What is it you need?"

Maybe it was but a fraction of her processing power dedicated to monitoring their presence on Earth, but the Spartan still felt like Millennia was focusing on the bigger picture too much. "They're eating the fallen on both sides."

"Did you perchance believe fighting the Flood would entail pleasant sights?"

"These are the Reapers. No Flood biomass in sight."

"It strikes fear into your heart nonetheless, does it not? Malice takes many forms; the Parasite has elevated cruelty to a form of art. Watch as the Reapers attempt to create their own masterpiece."

Wordlessly, Alan took aim at the nearest monstrosity and put three rounds into its bulbous, growth-riled head. The powerful 7,62mm rounds blew its skull apart with ease and the body slumped over the remains of its victim.

Next, he highlighted all the other hostiles in the area. They moved slow, frozen mid-action. The other Husks did not even have the time to process what happened. With machinelike efficiency and practiced concentration, the Spartan put them all down. Thirteen bursts of fire rang out, echoing through the devastated suburbs. When he was done, three seconds had passed, and thirteen corpses lay in their own pools of cybernetic blood.

Alan reloaded and relocated. Enemy reaction to his fire saw another horde of Husks charging his way, this one mainly composed of those humanoid Husks.

The Spartan felt his enhanced reflexes kick in as he reentered combat. He fired his rifle until he heard the familiar click of an empty chamber. Instead of reloading, he allowed the enemy to come to him. The first Husk within range lunged for him, swiping at him with its gangly limbs. The Spartan sidestepped, grappled it with one arm and struck a lightning-fast blow, shearing off most of the thing's head in an explosion of cybernetic tissue and black liquid.

The body dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. These things were still driven by a central processing unit, likely the brain, just stuffed with implants.

Another Husk lunged for him. Alan drove his boot down against its left knee, which snapped and twisted the other way under the impact. Then, he wrapped his hands around the Husk's head and violently twisted it sideways, severing the spinal cord. He immediately darted aside to dodge a second and fourth. He swept the leg of the first one and then brought it down with its spine on his knee, hard. The creature almost folded in two around the armoured joint, its abdomen bursting as its ribs and guts exploded outwards. He snatched the last Husk by his neck and brought it down against his knee, hard.

Some masterpiece, Alan thought, wiping the black viscera from his fingers. Were these Forerunner upgrades so potent, or were these Husks so fragile?

At least there was no shortage of them. For every Husk he just put down, another ten came to replace them. He reloaded and opened fire, flicking his rifle from the left to the right as he tore their heads off one burst of fire at a time. Their bodies danced under the impact of 7,62mm rounds and were chewed apart. They thudded to the ground in twos and threes at a time. By the time the Spartan gunned down the last Husk, he was down to two magazines.

Another horde rushed around the corner and sprinted for him. Alan switched to his shotgun and sprayed the horde with buckshot. The hyperdense pellets tore gaping holes into the Husks' flesh, shearing off limbs and blowing fist-sized holes through their fragile bodies.

The sight was disgustingly nostalgic.

He kept firing, all the while advancing on the ever-diminishing horde. The barrel of his shotgun actually touched the chest of the last Husk before he pulled the trigger and the upper body of the reanimated corpse flew apart in bloody chunks, sending cable-like entrails and slime-covered metal everywhere. His boot came down on the shredded bowels of his opponents as he left the mall.

"Spartan-003, have you reached the target location?" Cortana asked him.

"Not yet," he whispered into the COM, quickly darting into an alleyway between two large houses to avoid a swarm of Oculi. He rounded the corner just in time to see a smaller Reaper land on a broad highway, crushing it under its sheer bulk. "Enemy resistance intensifying."

"You might want to hurry up. The Reapers know we're here and they're moving forces towards our location."

"Right."

The Spartan eyed his motion tracker. This area was crawling with hostiles. He cleared out the immediate threats, but according to Cortana, he was about to get busy. Over the radio, Alliance officials continued to issue orders to their disorganized troops. Orders for air strikes, assaults, retreats. Even the chain of command had fallen apart.

Of course, the enemy had no problem with organization. They came scampering from across the ruined highway, dozens of them. Those cannibal things and human Husks alike. Mass accelerator fire tore through the air even as the Reaper took to the air again. Alan took note of how cumbersome it seemed on the ground, even when compared to those larger Reapers. It took the thing half a minute to even get airborne.

The ranged Husks scattered to find cover, while the former humans rushed towards Alan's location. He didn't bother wasting his ammo on the runners, instead opting to fend them off in close combat while picking off the shooters as they take potshots at him.

Their hits didn't even seem to drain his shields, but the Spartan kept on the move regardless. He fought his way across the open ground, wasted the cannibals seeking cover in front of the collapsed highway and paused to snatch up some spare heat sinks. He was running dangerously low on ammo now, and would soon have to pilfer the enemy's weapons to keep going.

A nav pointer appeared on his HUD, along with a holographic pathway that led him through several collapsed structures and towards what looked like a large river of sorts. A seemingly inexhaustible supply of Husks came at him from every direction. He could have easily reactivated his cloak to slip away in the night, but that meant deliberately planning his movements and exercising caution. It wouldn't win him any time, and these creatures were no threat to him. Might as well thin the herd.

Along the way he paused by a feeding Cannibal, knelt down and tore its bloated head from its mutated body. He plucked a mass accelerator shotgun from the stiff hands of a soldier's remains, then stuffed in a new heat sink and continued on his way. He was getting pretty close to the evacuation centre, but the concentration of enemy forces only increased.

Alan made his way through half a kilometre of Husk-infested city, shooting and tearing through what had to be a hundred of the deformed bastards. He passed by the first armed checkpoint – what was left of it. The guardhouse and reinforced structure attached to the gate had been blown away the ground was covered with Husk bodies. No friendly casualties in sight. Reapers must have taken the bodies.

Further back lay the evacuation centre itself. It was a massive, reinforced structure, the bulbous top of which protruded from the ground. The perimeter of reinforced fences surrounding it was breached in so many places that only half the original structure was left. Half a dozen gun turret positions had been overrun. The evacuation centre itself seemed intact. Perhaps Alliance managed to get the civilians out before they were overrun?

Alan moved fast, advancing across the scorched street and making his way to the heavy set of steel doors that kept the building secured.

They were ajar.

A hint of unease creeping over him, the Spartan pushed past the entryway and stepped inside. Thousands of people had been impaled on a forest of large spiked poles, like some sort of macabre artwork. Men and women alike. Some of those people looked disturbingly small. Even here, children couldn't stray away from the battlefield.

A dozen thoughts entered the Spartan's mind and he carefully filtered the ones he didn't need, allowing him to concentrate on the important details. Something about this bothered him.

"Spartan-003 to Cortana, over," he spoke into his COM. It struck the Spartan how the Reapers had turned this place into a slaughterhouse, yet there was no blood to be found. Not a single droplet. How long had these people been lying here?

"Go ahead Three. Did you find them?"

"Negative. Reapers hit it. Hundred percent casualties, no sign of Anderson or Johnson."

Or Annah.

Cortana swore. "What happened?"

"Civilians dead. The Reapers impaled them on metal poles. Can barely make out their identities anymore."

"The Reapers use these spikes, dubbed Dragon's Teeth by the Alliance, to turn humans into Husks," Cortana explained. "They convert muscle, organs and water into cybernetic parts, then reanimate the body with an electrical charge. Get out of there, Three."

That explained the lack of blood. How long did the Reapers need to turn a human into a Husk, anyway?

"Can we destroy them?" He asked, casting an uncertain glance at the Dragon Teeth. If these things provided the Reapers with fresh troops, they had to be destroyed.

"Negative, there's no time. Shepard and the Chief are almost at the Normandy's location. It's intact, but Reapers own the skies there. I am rerouting you to our location. Drive off the enemy forces there and rendezvous at the Normandy."

"Understood. I'll – "

Sounds of creaking metal suddenly filled the evacuation centre as the Teeth collapsed, retracting the poles with the dead civilians. Then began the howling and the screeching, and the Spartan immediately raised his shotgun again.

"Meet you there," he said, before cutting off the COM and opening fire.

-(++)-


Emergency lights flickered as the building trembled again. With a UNSC Magnum at the ready, Shepard made her way down the stairs. A motion sensor in the bottom of her HUD showed a whole mess of hostile contacts. It was a relief that they inserted from the rooftop; only one way the enemy could come from.

The two MJOLNIR-clad soldiers moved with a grace that belied their weight. One by one, they cleared the rooms they passed, their weapons snapping from one likely hiding spot to another. At first, the Commander struggled with her coordination, since the ruined wreck of a building was a completely new environment when compared to the pristine Forerunner environment. But, through a combination of Cortana helping her and some good old fashioned trial-and-error, she managed to keep up with John.

"Was it like this on your Earth as well?" She asked.

"…it will get better," he replied. He stacked up against a blocked doorway, then kicked down the door.

They were greeted by the sight of three Husks clawing and kicking at a barely-recognizable corpse. The freaks barely had the time to register their presence before John put them down, two shots through the dome each.

Shepard stepped over the fallen bodies and walked towards the far end of the room. A Reaper must have sheared through the chamber with its main cannon, or simply "walked" straight the building, since the rest of the building was missing. She had a front-row seat at Vancouver's destruction. Everywhere she looked was death and destruction. Enormous, black ships towered over the tallest skyscrapers, slowly crushing their surroundings as they waked back and forth. Every few seconds one of the monsters fired on some helpless, unseen target.

Earth. Humanity's heart. The Reapers struck their heaviest blow right out of the gate.

"Our drop will get their attention," John remarked. "We can't stay here."

"Copy that," Shepard replied. "Cortana?"

Cortana wasted no time in bringing up another map of the city. "Reports say that Anderson and Johnson were meeting with the Admiral Board when the Reapers hit. If they're not here, they either moved straight towards the docks or, failing that, retreated to the nearest evacuation centre. Three's hitting the latter, designating the former now."

The spaceport. The Normandy. A stealth ship with a functioning Reaper IFF was their best shot at getting from Earth in one piece and they knew it.

Cortana's city map miniaturized and flickered to the lower right of her HUD, the same size as her motion sensor. A navpoint appeared, roughly three kilometres away. Three kilometres of Husk-infested metropolis with Reaper capital ships prowling around.

"Did Cortana program that suit with a stealth module?" John asked.

"No. Said she didn't have the time for that."

Shepard knew that that complicated matters. They had to double-time it through hostile territory without attracting too much attention.

A solution presented itself within her mind almost immediately. They could order Three to go loud and attract every single Husk in the area to his location. With Millennia and Cortana's upgrades, there was no way those things could take him out. Hell, even without the upgrades Three was a killing machine. He could pull it off.

Seconds later, Shepard dismissed that thought. If anything went wrong, there would be no way for Three to rendezvous with them at the spaceport. She didn't want to risk his life.

"You engage stealth, provide overwatch," Shepard then decided. "See those rooftops? Excellent vantage points. I'll make my way to the spaceport."

"Acknowledged," he replied. "Be careful."

Shepard huffed. "When aren't I?"

He stared at her for several seconds, during which she shrugged. "Fine. Point taken. Let's get take the Normandy back."

With that, the two of them separated again. As the Chief began making his way to the rooftops, Shepard broke into a run. The MJOLNIR once again assisted her movements gracefully and seamlessly. It perfectly translated thought into motion and before soon, Shepard had grown accustomed enough to attempt more intricate movements. She vaulted a car that had been crashed into the middle of a road, landing in a sprint. Surrounded by burning skyscrapers, dodging and weaving amongst the fallen debris, she found herself easily reaching fifty kilometres per hour. It was one thing to move herself at incredible speeds for split-seconds with her Biotics, but to actually run at such speeds herself was…elating.

Jane hadn't felt this way since she began to explore the new possibilities of her cybernetics. And the COPPERHEAD multiplied those feelings fourfold and she couldn't even run it at maximum efficiency!

The temptation to give in to vengeance was hard to resist. It was always hard to resist, but the power this suit gave her could help her more than she ever imagined…

Shepard shook that thought off. Forced herself to confront the cold, hard fact that Earth was not relevant in the grand scheme of things. Soon every world would be burning, and the Reapers wouldn't stop until everyone and everything was dead.

Vancouver crawled with Husks. They were difficult to avoid entirely. Without stealth to fall back on and with not enough time to find a way around, Shepard was forced to go on the offensive.

When she drew the Magnum again, a yellow targeting circle appeared in her HUD. She placed it over the head of the nearest Husk and pulled the trigger. Seven shots rang out and five of the bastards fell, their heads bursting like overripe fruits under the barrage of the enormous pistol calibre.

She went on the move again, constantly shadowed by John. The only indicator of his presence was the occasional shot that ghosted through the air, taking the head off Husks that Shepard hadn't even spotted yet. What little Husks did get the chance to leap up and engage her, did so in utter slowness, like they moved underwater. Shepard had little difficulty lining up her shots and doming them. In turn, her newfound mobility made her feel almost untouchable. Without ranged weaponry these things would never get close to her again.

It was over in half a minute. Shepard stepped over the decapitated corpse of the last Husk to fall on hurried on her way. :

"We knew they were coming," Shepard said as one of the skyscrapers in the distance crumbled and collapsed. Behind it, a Reaper slowly took to the skies again. "And they still…cut through our defences. Earth fell in six…seven hours."

John offered her no comment. She sensed him moving from her left flank to her right in a second, leaping from rooftop to rooftop like an overclocked geth Hopper.

They made to the river, about one kilometre from the spaceport. Every single building alongside the river had been gutted, destroyed or otherwise made to collapse. The wreckages of fallen warships provided a makeshift scaffolding across the water. Charred bodies gently floated in the water, its reflecting surface strangely tranquil when compared to the utter desolation of the surface. Jane tried not to look. Tried so hard not to look.

"Gotcha," Cortana spoke over the comm. "I've picked up traces of Johnson's Neural Interface. He's alive, and hunkered down in the spaceport. Analysing…yes, EDI's with them too, but she powered down to conserve power and prevent the Reapers from finding them."

"EDI's alive?" Jane muttered. She felt giddy with relief; for all she knew, the Alliance had found and dismantled her, or worse.

"Affirmative. According to EDI, Anderson led Avery and…that can't be right."

"What is it?" Asked John.

What Cortana said next was enough for Shepard to forget all about the Cannibals. "EDI said that Anderson took Johnson and Shepard to the spaceport half an hour after the Reapers hit."

"Can't be me, I'm standing right here," Shepard replied, feeling utterly lost. But then it struck her; when Blue Team first picked up 003, he was in the company of a woman with her face. She didn't have much time to think about it at first, what with the hostile Spartan and UNSC Black Ops team firing on her, but that definitely happened.

The question was, who in their right mind would clone her? Was that even possible, cloning a whole person? And why?

"That woman," John immediately deduced. "She was with Three. She stayed behind on the Prowler."

"And Three sent her planetside. What for?"

"I can't say for sure," Cortana said. "They've linked up with several Alliance soldiers, officers and officials and kept their heads down for five hours. Fascinating…the Reapers located them fifty minutes ago, but didn't bother wiping them out. Instead, they're sending in their Husks."

Jane thought she knew why. "Then we need to double-time it. We'll sort this mess out once we leave Earth."

That proved to be easier said than done, however. The closer they came to the spaceport, the thicker the concentration of enemy forces became. They began encountering those same Cannibal things as on that Covenant Carrier, and lots of them. Dozens. Hundreds. Too many to count. They scrambled towards the spaceport in a great hurry, pushing and shoving past each other in order to get to the front faster. Something had their attention and it sure as hell wasn't Three.

"Do not engage," the Chief warned her as soon as she spotted them. "They haven't spotted us."

"They're in the way," Jane retorted. "We have to get past them."

They didn't have much time. Every minute that passed by could result in either Johnson or Anderson catching a bullet. They had to take the pressure off the spaceport, but how? If they engaged the Reaper forces here, they'd only get bogged down.

At a loss and almost out of time, Shepard thought of Three again and her suit instantly forged a radio link between the two of them. "Three, you copy?"

A pause. Then, the gravelly voice of Spartan-003 whispered, "Roger, over."

"VIPs are at the spaceport, but it's under Reaper siege. I need you hitting it yesterday!"

"Solid copy. Relocating."

"Do you have something in mind?" John asked her, dropping down next to her position and uncloaking.

Shepard didn't immediately reply. If this failed, and she lost Anderson…the thought alone set her heart on fire. "I do. Just need to be very fast, very coordinated and very, very aggressive."

-(++)-


"Keep firing!" Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams yelled. Dozens of Husks mindlessly charged at their location, only to rush into a blanketing field of fire as the survivors repelled them time and time again. But there was no end to the enemy's forces! They simply placed more of those red, batarian-looking mutant bastards into place and had them lay down a sloppy, if effective field of suppressing fire.

Soldiers ducked as enemy mass accelerator fire slammed into the metal frame of the spaceport's outer walls. The past assaults had left the collection of buildings increasingly decrepit. Every time they showed up, they blew away more and more cover. The survivors had been pushed back all the way to the Normandy's drydock. From there, there'd be no more falling back.

An ever-decreasing group of soldiers held the line. Many of them humans but, much to Ashley's chagrin, several aliens as well. They supposedly worked in the office buildings surrounding the Alliance HQ or simply happened to visit Earth for tourism's sake. She couldn't blame them for wanting to see Earth, as humanity's homeworld was the most beautiful of them all, but she definitely blamed them for surviving when so many good humans perished when the Reapers struck.

"Come get some you bastards!" The UNSC envoy roared as he put down one Husk after another with precision shots.

The Lieutenant Commander glanced at the man from the corner of her eye, concerned. She thought he was just another diplomat, but this man was stone-hard. He reminded her of an old Drill Sergeant of hers with the way he talked and acted. He was more accurate than all the other soldiers who made it here alive, although that didn't say much. They couldn't fire their weapon without hitting something hostile.

Not that it mattered. One accurate shooter wasn't going to help them much, here. Another man gurgled as he dropped to the ground, his kinetic barriers having been overloaded by a barrage of gunfire.

"You bastards!" Lieutenant Vega yelled, swiftly taking the fallen man's place to keep their formation from falling apart. "You fucking bastards!"

"Concentrate on the Cannibals!" Councillor Anderson called out, putting a fresh thermal clip in his Avenger rifle.

Commander Shepard threw a Singularity into the middle of a Cannibal position, causing the freaks to start levitating above their cover like a bunch of freaky balloons. With three quick shots, this man Johnson blew their heads off.

Why didn't she say anything?! The Shepard Ashley knew would never have acted like this! She acted like she didn't know Anderson, didn't know Vega, didn't know her!

It was Cerberus, she knew it! When they "rebuilt" Shepard they changed her, turned her into a tool for their plans, turned her into a stranger!

And now the Reapers were conquering Earth. While the aliens just stood and watched! And where was the UNSC, who were all too happy to meddle with the Alliance's affairs before? Nowhere!

They were all alone and surrounded from all sides.

"Incoming!" Anderson yelled as several drop-pods slammed into the ground directly in front of them. Ashley didn't know how they did it, or even why they bothered doing it, but the Reapers just dropped in a shipload more troops. Their drop-pods fell apart at the landing and the Cannibals stumbled out, already roaring. Already shooting.

Ashley ducked for cover as a barrage of fire went over her head. Another soldier wasn't as lucky, and the woman screamed as the mass accelerator rounds tore through her chest, sending her sprawling to the ground.

Anderson and Johnson remained unfazed. They continued firing, the UNSC envoy lobbing a grenade in-between the enemy forces and the Councillor picking off the survivors.

"We can't hold out for much longer!" Vega yelled. "We can't stay here!"

"Negative!" Anderson immediately roared back. "If we abandon the Normandy, we'll never be able to evacuate!"

But they couldn't evacuate if they were dead. Waiting until an opportunity presented itself was suicide! How were they going to pilot the ship with just the few of them, anyway? That asari and the two salarians would be all but useless. This Johnson likely didn't know a thing about piloting and Joker and the handful of Alliance personnel still aboard the ship wouldn't be enough to pull that off. Worse, the drydock's clamps were sealed. They'd have to manually override them…somehow.

"Look out!" Someone yelled, moments before something exploded and tore half their cover asunder with shockwaves and shrapnel. Ingrained instincts threw Ashley to the ground, but some of the others weren't so lucky. One of the salarians was too late and caught a burst of fire in his stomach even as his friend pulled him to safety.

Then the Husks were upon them and suddenly, the Lieutenant Commander found herself in a fight for her life. She struggled mightily against the filthy creature that slammed into her, fighting like a varren gone mad with its fists, feet and even teeth. Ashley struggled to pull out her knife, but the damned thing was stuck!

"Shoot it!" She yelled. "Fucking shoot it!"

Her assailant was lighter than she was and she fought to put her knees between it and her. With a yell, she shoved the creature off her, gambling on pulling out her sidearm instead of gaining more distance. The weapon unfolded in her hands and she desperately pulled the trigger, but the Predator pistol didn't work. The fucking thing didn't work!

She watched in horror as the Husk pounced for her again, only for someone to tackle the husk away from her. The mottled creature groaned and attempted to climb back to its feet, but Ashley's rescuer pulped its head with a single, Biotically charged palm strike, reducing it to milky gore and bits.

Shepard didn't as much as look at her, opting to help Johnson back to his feet instead.

But with much of their cover blown away, they didn't have a choice but to retreat deeper into the spaceport. This would be their final retreat, too. Not long before the ground troops made it to the Normandy itself. They just didn't give up! Ashley had stopped counting how many times those monsters attacked. Four times? Five?

"There can be no retreat!" Anderson yelled. "If they frag the ship, we're all dead!"

More Cannibals rushed over the makeshift hill of collapsed buildings. Dozens of them. A complete barrage of gunfire erupted, tearing through what remained of their cover and forcing them all to seek cover.

The other salarian caught a round to his right eye. Ashley grimaced and looked away. That one didn't even have barriers to protect him…

"Left flank!" Vega yelled. "They're coming from the left flank! Holy hell, there's got to be fifty of the fucking things!"

True to the Lieutenant's words, a freaking army of Cannibals and Husks slowly made its way through across the outermost drydocks, moving from cover to cover as they pelted the spaceport with gunfire.

One round punched clean through Ashley's left arm and she screamed, staggering back, rattled by the sudden pain. She was vaguely aware that she had no cover left, and that she had to move.

"I'm hit!" She cried out, She spotted a trio of Cannibals throwing themselves forwards, rushing to their location as if eager for more kills. She had seen what those things did to dead – and dying – people. God, she wanted to live. She wanted to live!

Then, out of nowhere, a barrage of gunfire erupted from behind the Reaper forces at the North and tore into their flanks, followed by a whole Biotic team's worth of Biotic attacks. A Singularity field appeared within the midst of the Cannibal position and it was powerful enough to pull in and outright crush half a dozen of the freaks at the same time. Flashes of red light erupted and blew apart Cannibals that sought cover, helplessly dangling the survivors into the air. Singular Warp bolts struck those and shredded the Husks caught within.

Following that another storm of gunfire erupted, impossibly accurate, impossibly powerful .Some sort of large-calibre machinegun tore through the Cannibals and Husks with laughable ease. Three bolts of Biotic light erupted and ripped their targets to bloody shreds.

"Hell yeah!" Johnson hollered.

"What the hell, who is that? There's nobody left in this zone!" Anderson retorted.

"What's going on sirs!" Vega yelled, unable to take his eye off the left flank lest the Reaper forces blow them out. "What's happening?"

"Something…something is tearing the main front apart," Ashley replied, swiftly crawling back behind cover. "Holy shit, are they actually retreating?"

"If they're retreating, I could use a - chingada madre! Who's that crazy fucker!"

Ashley dared to peek over her cover, and saw a sight that shocked her to her very core. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She even forgot about the wound in her arm.

A massive, armoured figure had leapt into the midst of the Reaper forces. Jet-black and towering over them, the figure wasted no time in absolutely obliterating them. He shot the first Cannibal in sight at point blank range with a shotgun, sending it flying backwards against one of its brethren. Before it could even rise to its feet again, a shimmering blade made out of red light erupted from the figure's left forearm and with it he lunged forwards, slicing its head off in one fell gesture.

Before Ashley could even begin to process that, the combatant lunged for the next target. He sliced a Husk's legs off at the calves, stop-kicked it against another Husk before shooting that one's head off with the shotgun. Fast as lightning, he intercepted another Cannibal and forced its own arm-cannon into its mouth, before forcing it to fire, blowing its own head off. Another Cannibal got swiped off its feet with a single sweeping kick then cleaved in half at the waist. One Cannibal he stabbed through the head, before kicking its body away with almost contemptuous ease. This he achieved in mere seconds, all the while moving, all the while shooting. It was as if the devil himself had crawled up from the blackened pits of hell, wielding a blade forged from brimstone.

The enemy fire from the left flank stopped as abruptly as it began. The Cannibals and Husks didn't even get the chance to retreat. This unknown, armoured signature tore his way through them all, leaving not a single survivor.

It was over in half a minute. And in that half minute, the reinforcing fireteams managed to clear the Reapers' main avenue of attack completely. Thirty or so Husks, including those Cannibal freaks, all of them dead. Torn asunder by Biotics and gunfire.

To the North of the battlefield emerged not an entire platoon, like Ashley had expected, but two soldiers. Just two of them. Two large, armour-clad soldiers, nothing more. One plated just like the one on the left flank, but green instead of ashen-black and the other clad in blood-red.

Ashley's eyes narrowed when she recognized the suits. Everybody who meant something had seen this exact same power armour before, on all major news broadcasts.

Spartans. The UNSC's Special Forces. The best of the best, but one of them was responsible for Illium getting fragged, then the Citadel getting attacked. What were those guys doing here?

The two armoured soldiers approached their location. At that point, only Anderson, Vega, Johnson and Ashley herself were still alive. Three civilians had survived the fight unscathed, one asari and two humans. Had the Reapers broken through, they would have torn Joker and the surviving personnel apart. Those ensigns searching the Normandy didn't even have guns!

Anderson and Johnson stepped into view, their expressions apprehensive at the sight of the approaching…Ashley believed they were called Spartans. One of them was a bit smaller than the other, and her built left nothing to doubt. She was definitely a woman.

"Sergeant Major Avery Junior Johnson," the UNSC Envoy proclaimed. "There's only one armoured can of whoopass that allied himself with a Biotic powerhouse like that. Master Chief? That you?"

Who?

"Johnson," the armour-clad male replied. His voice was deep and gravelly. Ashley felt a chill run down her spine when she heard it, but she didn't think it had anything to do with fear or nerves.

"The Master Chief?" Anderson gasped. "But – but that means – "

The female Spartan grabbed her helmet and jerked it to the left, breaking the seal. Pulling it over her head she revealed a human face. Her skin was flawless and pale, not at all what people would expect from a soldier. Her hair was even redder than her armour and reached down to her shoulders.

Her bright, green eyes fixed on Johnson, darted to Ashley for a second, then settled on Anderson. She smirked. It was a happy, cocky smirk, one that Ashley instantly recognized,

It was Commander Jane Shepard.

"You!" Ashley exclaimed.

"Me," Shepard proudly replied.

"But, but…Shepard?" Lieutenant Vega stammered, looking back and forth between the woman they all believed to be Shepard and the Commander herself. "How are there two of you?"

Johnson huffed. He had a large cigarette on his lip and he lit it with the white-hot edge of what had once been a reinforced steel door. "I for one welcome my two Shepards and Spartans. You got a way out, or are we walkin'?"

Ashley stared at the UNSC Envoy. He was still this calm? And talking about walking? Was the man insane!

"No time to explain our plan, gotta hurry," Shepard said, suddenly clasping her helmet back on and darting inside of the ruined spaceport, brushing straight past Anderson and Johnson. "Excellent work, Three."

Ashley turned around only to see the black-clad soldier standing in the midst of their formation. She gasped; how was he able to sneak up on all of them like that, wearing armour like that? Who the hell were these people, what was going on!?

"We've got an escape plan, but it hinges on solid timing," the Commander – the real one – explained, blindly making her way towards the Normandy's drydock. "The Normandy still has her Reaper IFF, otherwise it would have been slag metal right now. If the Alliance didn't find the IFF, they didn't find EDI either. Isn't that right, EDI? You can power up now, cat's out of the bag."

A smooth, synthetic-sounding voice suddenly replied over the radio. "It is good to have you back, Commander. Your hypothesis is correct; the Reapers were unable to locate the Normandy. This will change upon moving it. We have been unable to take off for the last six hours, forty-seven minutes and twenty-nine seconds. Reaper movement patterns still do not allow for it."

"Well, I just happen to know a shortcut," Shepard simply said. She took them straight towards the drydock where the sleek and fast stealth-Frigate awaited them. Designed for infiltration, but could Shepard really pull this off?

"Commander, is that you?" Joker yelled into the radio. "You came back for us, I can't believe it! Please tell me you brought us the entire UNSC and Covenant armada?"

"Not yet Joker, not yet," Shepard said. "First, we're going to get the hell off Earth while we still can."

"Wait, we're leaving?" Lieutenant Vega suddenly yelled. "What the fuck!"

"We can't just leave!" Ashley agreed. She was acutely aware that the other two Spartans were looking at her, but she didn't care.

"No, Shepard is right," Anderson said, much to the Lieutenant Commander's surprise. "Earth is done. We can't win this fight on our own. Our forces are in complete disarray. Without someone to organize them, the Reapers will just herd them together and tear them apart. Or worse, turn them against us."

Strategically, Anderson was right. But Ashley's heart screamed for her to protest. "And what? The Council will help us? They can't even protect themselves! The Citadel is gone, where can we even go?"

A ship soared overhead and Ashley instinctively ducked for cover. But, she realized, it wasn't a Reaper ship, or even an Alliance one. It looked a lot like a UNSC dropship, according to what little information the Alliance had on the UNSC's armament.

"That's exactly why I'm here, to make sure our leaders get their heads in the game and help us get organized," Shepard said.

"But, leaving Earth – " Vega protested.

"Oh, look around you!" Shepard snapped. "Reapers chewed through our Fleets and our armies! Earth fell in seven hours Seven hours! Without help, we're fucked. I'm going to unite the entire goddamn galaxy and let it loose against the Reapers. If it's hope you want, give me two minutes and I'll show you."

The UNSC dropship touched down, much too graceful and fast for its weight and stubby profile. It looked like a fat brick with wings, yet was armed to the teeth. Two large turrets slowly swept back and forth, as if searching for targets.

"Joker, EDI's best friend is going to upload a flight trajectory. Follow this trajectory to the letter. Got it?"

"Her best friend - ? Wait, seriously? You did it? The mad man did – "

"Now, Joker! Take off now!"

"Right, got it!"

Ashley had a hundred questions, but the soldier within her sensed that time was of the essence. She wouldn't waste time with talking.

With a shudder, the two mechanical clamps that kept the Frigate under lock, opened. A tremor ran through the ship before Joker – and this EDI, whoever she was – gunned it. The Normandy accelerated out from the drydocks and rapidly ascended.

"Everyone, get on!" Johnson barked, guiding the three surviving civilians and Vega into the dropship. "Chief, Commander, let's hustle! Anderson, the hell are you doing?"

Ashley looked over her shoulder. Anderson stood rooted on the spot.

"Anderson, come on!" Shepard urged him, offering the man a gauntlet-clad hand.

Slowly, deliberately, Anderson stepped back. "I can't, Shepard. What I said about organization? Earth needs that now, more than ever. Someone to pick up the pieces and put them back together."

"David, please," Shepard quietly said.

But Anderson simply shook his head. "Someone needs to stay here, organize our forces. And you don't need me, you need Hackett! He's already gathered the fleets, saved them from utter destruction! I need to stay here and put together a resistance that'll keep Earth going long enough for you to take her back."

The Master Chief bowed towards Shepard. Whispered something at her. Seconds later, a swirling black …thing appeared behind the old Admiral. It looked like a mirror with a black storm raging within.

"…I'll come back for you," Shepard said, her voice low, but dangerously firm. Ashley knew that voice well. Jane used that voice just before people would get fucked up. "I'll bring the turians and the krogan. I'll bring the UNSC, the Covenant and all their ships. I'll even bring the goddamn Master Builder. I'll come back for you!"

Anderson looked over his shoulder and spotted the black apparition. Then. much to Ashley's complete astonishment, he smiled. His bruised face did nothing to diminish the pride he showed. "Thank you, Commander. Now get going! You've got a plan, now stick to it!"

With his last order issued, Anderson turned around and freaking jumped into the black mirror, disappearing completely.

Shepard ignored the resulting cries of surprise and protest and ordered the dropship to take off. As James shouted in protest and Johnson ordered him to calm down, the Master Chief placed his hand on Shepard's shoulder, and the black-clad Spartan turned away.

The Lieutenant Commander closed her eyes, feeling something wet and warm stain her cheeks. Jane spoke of hope, but from where she sat, she saw naught but the howling darkness.

-(++)—


"When the smoke cleared, the little steamer had reached the misty horizon, and Carrie was safe. But the Thunder Child had vanished forever, taking with her man's last hope of victory. The leaden sky was lit by green flashes, cylinder following cylinder, and no one and nothing was left now to fight them."

-(++)-


AN: And a relatively obscure quote to end the chapter on. The year 2020 ended and the year 2021 begun. We're looking at a brighter future, but we shouldn't lose sight of what's important to us. A good year needs good people. Now be safe out there, and stay good people. See you next chapter!