Heart thumping away, I crept through the hall and doorways of the tower. Sortan and Alicia were probably at the command consoles by now, though the ensign hadn't said anything over the comm.

So far, I hadn't met any Flood – we had already taken this path, so those that were left over from their little "march" were dead. Still, every time I entered one of the artificial valleys I panicked.

Finally, I entered the grav lift room, and sat down on the curved architecture. I felt sick, and wondered what a Covenant lavatory looked like. There were many different species . . . If there was a different bathroom for each . . .

Suddenly, something beeped, and I jumped, my heart racing again. I reached for the comm. After finding it, my finger pressed the correct buttons and I raised it to my ear. Alicia immediately said, "Okay, my console is good. Is the grav lift working?"

I glanced at the circular hole in the floor of the room. "Nope, not yet. Maybe Sortan hasn't finished yet."

"Maybe," Alicia said. I could detect the slightest hint of fear on the edge of her voice.

"Seen any Flood up there? Everything alright?"

"Shut up, Nathan. I'll be there in a few minutes." Testy, testy.

Sortan didn't have a human comm., of course. Hopefully he would show up before Alicia arrived. He was probably finishing up just now . . .

No such luck. Ten minutes later, Alicia entered the room hurriedly, grasping the BR55 Battle Rifle. Immediately on task, she asked, "Where's Sortan?"

"Dunno," I replied, studying her face in the darkness. I could make out a grimace. She turned, and paced back to the doorway.

"I'll head to the second console, then."

Alone. Again, I thought despairingly. "Okay," I said aloud with a blank expression.

She trotted off, and I sat quietly once more, listening to the sounds of the darkness. The spores in the air were increasing – I could feel my breath getting shallower. Breathe masks, or something, would be incredibly useful right now, I thought, examining the ceiling.

More of the greenish-grayish blobs were forming throughout the tower. They were probably used for the Flood to manufacture Infection Forms. Excellent, I thought sarcastically, just as the lights blinked on overhead. A glow came from the grav lift shaft, like something was ascending it very quickly. The light reached the top, and soon a purple glow filled the room.

Picking up my comm., I asked Alicia if she had found Sortan. No answer. I tried again: no answer. Finally, I put away the comm. Hesitantly; feeling panic starting to well up, I distracted myself by glancing down the shaft. As I did, a sort of wavy-like noise came from the grav lift, and I could see something rapidly ascending it.

"Crap!" I said aloud, stumbling away from lift. A moment later, as I rushed to ready my assault rifle, a Carrier Form spurted from the shaft with such force it hit the ceiling and bounced onto the ground, already swelling up. I cried out and backed away as it exploded.

I knew the small Infection Forms were lethal to humans, since I didn't have a shield generator. I held down the trigger of the assault rifle until the little bastards were dead. Exhaling with relief, I sat down again, just as two Combat Forms were thrown out of the lift. While they struggled to stand up, I turned and ran.

Unluckily, they caught sight of me before I dashed away into the next chamber. Once the two Flood forms had separated themselves from each other, they began running after me at such speeds I was a tiny bit envious. But that was the suicidal tiny bit, and I continued on.

It took about three chambers of running for them to wear me out. Spinning around, I raised my assault rifle and fired on them; one went down, but the other leapt and its tentacle-infested arm slapped me in the chest. With a whimper of pain, I went down, but raised me assault rifle and depleted my clip into the thing's body.

In pain and terror, I studied my wound. Three lashes, visible through my torn fatigues: bleeding badly, and with a slight green touch to the edges. Scrambling around my belt, I found a medical disinfectant. Closing my eyes tightly, I sprayed the stuff of nightmares onto my wound.

Arrgh, I thought. Through the blinding pain I watched as the green tint on the edge of the lashes melted away.

Exhausted, I lay me head back and drifted away into unconsciousness . . .