(Fireteam Horizon: Oliver)
After Evelyn dispatched me to locate the Chief, my quest led me to scour the landscape for any edifices crafted by the ringworld. Upon discovering a substantial facility, I diligently combed through its dark eerie corridors, my senses attuned for even the faintest trace of the Master Chief.
As I stumble upon tracks left by a Jiralhanae, I instinctively pursue their trail, eventually arriving at the gruesome sight of the Brute's lifeless form sprawled before me. My gaze ascends to behold a lengthy corridor strewn with the remnants of sentinels. "What force could have wrought this devastation?" I muse, undaunted by the chaos surrounding me.
Navigating the path of the corridor, I am swallowed by a vast, open room stretching into countless branching halls. Opting for one at random, I press forward, my senses tingling with an unsettling anticipation. Yet, as I traverse the corridor, an eerie crawling sound slithers along the outer walls, its presence like a sinister whisper haunting my every step.
As I finally breach the end of the hall, I step into a vast chamber that emanates an oppressive aura of dread. It resembles some form of stasis laboratory, though its purpose remains obscured in the dim light. Strewn across the floor are the lifeless forms of Banished troops, their twisted limbs and vacant stares casting a chilling pall over the room. Pressing forward through this macabre scene, my gaze lands upon a solitary terminal, its surface aglow with an ominous cyan hue that seems to pulse with malevolent intent.
As I approach the terminal, my heart quickens with a mixture of apprehension and dread. The screen flickers to life, revealing a dire message: "Flood containment facility status: Flood contained, Flood active. Facility power fail-safes offline. Facility outbreak protocol absent. Flood containment status: deteriorating."
Stepping back from the terminal, I struggle to comprehend the gravity of the situation. The Flood, ancient horrors of the galaxy, were active on this ring, and the facility lacked the necessary protocols to contain them. What implications would this hold for us, for all life aboard this ring?
Suddenly, the ominous silence is shattered by the heavy thud of footsteps behind me. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I dash down the corridor to confront the source, only to find a Brute hastily fleeing the scene. Allowing it to escape, I realize that my priority must be to ensure that the Flood does not spread beyond the confines of this ring.
As I approached the terminal, its eerie glow cast shadows in the dimly lit chamber. With a cautious tap, the screen flickered, revealing ominous text: "Flood containment north: breached, Flood containment east: crumbling, Flood containment west: secure, Flood containment south: breached." A shiver crawled down my spine.
Contemplating my next move, I hesitated before pressing the screen again. "Deactivate Flood containment?" I whispered to myself, my finger trembling over the pulsing red button. With a grim resolve, I pressed it.
Instantly, a surge of warning lights illuminated the chamber, their frantic flashes echoing the pounding of my heart. "Flood containment failing, initiate Ring lockdown?" The screen's icy cyan button beckoned ominously.
Fighting the urge to flee, I steeled myself and tapped the button. The terminal hummed with malevolent energy before abruptly shutting down, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence of the forerunner facility.
As the terminal powered down, a chilling silence enveloped the chamber, broken only by the sound of my own ragged breaths echoing off the metallic walls. A few seconds passed, each one feeling like an eternity, before the stillness was shattered by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering behind me.
My heart skipped a beat as I spun around, my eyes widening in horror as I beheld the nightmarish sight before me. Emerging from the darkness was a twisted figure, a Flood infection form, its bloated form writhing with grotesque appendages. With a guttural shriek, it lunged toward me with unnatural speed, a malevolent hunger gleaming in its soulless eyes.
Instinct took over as I reacted with lightning-fast reflexes, my arm swinging out in a desperate arc to intercept the airborne abomination. The sickening crunch of impact filled the air as my strike connected, pulverizing the loathsome parasite into a grotesque smear against the cold metal floor.
Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I wasted no time in fleeing the accursed chamber, my footsteps echoing like thunder in the empty corridors. Every shadow seemed to twist and writhe with unseen horrors, and the oppressive atmosphere pressed down on me like a suffocating weight.
As I raced through the labyrinthine corridors of the Forerunner facility, a sense of dread gnawed at the edges of my sanity. Behind every corner lurked the unknown, each step forward a gamble with my very life. Yet, with every heartbeat, I pressed on, driven by the desperate hope of escaping the clutches of this forsaken place before it consumed me whole.
As hours dragged on, I found myself ensnared within the depths of the facility, a vast metallic chamber echoing with the ominous hum of ancient machinery. The air grew thick with anticipation, every shadow pregnant with the promise of lurking horrors. Behind me, the door that once offered solace now stood as a grim reminder of my confinement, while ahead, another portal beckoned, its siren call laced with the whispers of the damned.
Suddenly, the silence shattered like glass as the Flood descended upon me with ravenous intent, their grotesque forms contorting in agony as they poured forth from the darkness. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, a harbinger of the horrors to come. With each step they took, the ground trembled beneath their relentless advance, a testament to their insatiable hunger.
Panic clawed at my throat as I beheld the carnage unfolding before me, the metallic clang of combat ringing in my ears as I fought for my very survival. But it was futile. The Flood's numbers were endless, their ferocity unmatched. Before long, the chamber was awash with the twisted corpses, a grim tableau of suffering and despair.
Exhaustion weighed heavy on my limbs as I collapsed amidst the carnage, the cold embrace of defeat wrapping around me like a shroud. And as the Flood closed in around me, their unearthly howls reverberating through the chamber, a chilling realization dawned upon me — I was but a pawn in a cosmic game of horror, destined to be consumed by the darkness that lurked within this forsaken ring.
I lie there, my body paralyzed, ensnared in the grip of the Flood's insidious tendrils. It feels as though my very essence is being torn asunder, my thoughts fragmented like shards of glass scattered across a desolate landscape. "Where am I? Who am I?" I scream into the void of my own mind, the questions echoing endlessly with no answers forthcoming.
Time slips through my fingers like grains of sand as I struggle to piece together the shattered remnants of my identity. "Why am I lying here? What is to come for me?" Each question is a dagger to my sanity, carving deeper into the recesses of my consciousness.
And then, as if from the depths of hell itself, a voice reverberates within the recesses of my mind, its words dripping with malice and contempt. "A suitable host indeed, no need to change you," it hisses, its sinister tones sending shivers down my spine.
I feel a surge of terror course through me as I realize the true horror of my situation. I am not merely a victim of circumstance; I am a vessel, a pawn in a game far beyond my comprehension. The Flood have taken root within me, their corrupting influence spreading like a cancer throughout my being.
Every fiber of my being screams in agony as I feel myself slipping further into darkness, my identity consumed by the ravenous hunger of the Flood. And as the last vestiges of my humanity fade into oblivion, I am left with but one chilling certainty — I am no longer myself.
Lying there, my body rendered inert by the excruciating pain, I am still able to discern the oppressive walls surrounding me, the lifeless forms strewn across the floor in a tableau of horror. Questions assail my mind in the silence of the room: "How have I come to this place of agony? Whose lifeless forms now litter the space around me?"
After a brief pause, the steady rhythm of footsteps echoes through the exit I had momentarily overlooked. Suddenly, a formidable procession of Spartans emerges, their imposing figures casting shadows over my prone form. Despite my incapacitation, I frantically attempt to voice a warning, but my cries remain trapped within the confines of my mind, echoing futilely.
"Oh my..." A Spartan's voice quivers with disbelief. "Is that..."
"It's Oliver," another Spartan states, his words laden with a grimness that I can only recall as such.
Pausing, I ponder, "Who's Oliver? Why are they all staring at me? Could I be Oliver?" My thoughts scatter in a desperate quest for understanding.
"It's a tragic loss," the next Spartan begins somberly, a familiar voice echoing in my memory. "But we cannot linger. Secure his dog-tags swiftly and maintain our momentum. We cannot afford to falter in the face of this horror." The name 'Master Chief' flashes in my mind, triggering a surge of recognition. Summoning all my remaining strength, I strain to move, yet my efforts yield only feeble twitches of my fingers.
As Ava moves towards me to secure my dog tag, I feel something is crawling inside me, rearranging my organs with unsettling precision. The pain surges, overwhelming me with its intensity, yet I am immobilized, unable to do anything but lie there, a captive to the agony coursing through me. As Ava inches closer, an abrupt crack reverberates through me, as if my arm bones snap in an instant, moving with a speed that defies comprehension. Before I even realize it, my hands coil around Ava's head, swiftly silencing her with an unexpected and chilling grip.
The Master Chief's voice barely audible, he commands, "Activate protocol 'CORRUPTER". In a blur, my body springs into action, hurtling toward the nearest Spartan. Despite her attempts to evade, the Flood's control redirects my movements, and with a single, decisive blow, her visor shatters, sending her crashing to the ground. As realization dawns, the Flood surge, their numbers multiplying as swiftly as my victims. Amidst the chaos, most of the Spartans engage in a fierce battle against the encroaching Flood. Through sheer determination, the Master Chief subdues me, and through strained breaths, I manage to rasp, "Thank you," acknowledging his intervention.
My body, on the brink of collapse, remains locked in a struggle with the Master Chief. The Flood relentlessly pushes me towards overcoming my own allies, the voice booming within my head once more, "You are a pawn to the Flood, your struggles are in vain." Nevertheless, I continue to resist the Flood's full strength, hoping to provide the Chief with the upper hand.
Amidst the ongoing struggle with the Chief, an Elite Zealot suddenly intervenes, coming to the aid of the exhausted Spartans. With swift determination, he urges them towards the doorway from which I had entered. Before anyone can react, a monstrous shadow looms large from within the Flood ranks—an Abomination. The Spartans swiftly repel us, unleashing a barrage of firepower upon the colossal monstrosity. My body strains to maintain itself, the insidious control of the Flood still lurking within my mind.
As the tendrils of the Flood tightened their grip around me, I could feel their corrupting influence gnawing at the edges of my consciousness. My vision blurred, my body felt momentarily relieved as the pain of the Flood's tendrils faded from my nerves. Then, everything blackened, sealing my fate within these wretched halls.
Awakening within the vast expanse of my own consciousness, I find myself enveloped by an oppressive darkness. I had believed my existence in this life to be at its end, resigned to the consuming void. Yet, from the shadowy depths of the expanse, a resounding voice booms forth, piercing the silence with its ominous presence, "In your mortal coil, you persist, not yet consumed by the embrace of oblivion. Your corporeal vessel relinquishes its dominion over your consciousness, a vessel deemed unnecessary by the Flood's design. Here, within the recesses of your own mind, you find sanctuary, a realm where the tendrils of the Gravemind extend, nurturing the burgeoning intellect that shall soon meld with its own."
Memories of my life begin to materialize within the expansive depths of my consciousness, each recollection unfolding like a haunting echo of the past. It's as if I am traversing the corridors of my own mind, reliving precious moments that once defined me. Yet, as the memories unfurl, I notice a distortion, a darkening veil cast over them, as if the Flood's influence has tainted them, claiming them for its own.
I reach a pivotal moment—the time of my augmentation—a memory filtered through the sinister lens of the Flood's control, its essence suffusing every detail with an unsettling aura. Even my earliest recollections, those cherished memories of family and home, are marred beyond recognition by the Flood's insidious grasp.
As the memories fade from the corridors of my mind, I am struck by a chilling realization—the Flood knows me intimately, its tendrils intertwining with the very fabric of my existence. In this realm, within the depths of my own consciousness, there is no sanctuary from its relentless pursuit of dominance.
As the darkness of the Flood's influence tightens its grip on my consciousness, a chilling revelation dawns upon me. In the echoes of my own thoughts, I come to a haunting realization—I am not just an observer in this shadowy realm; I am a part of it.
The memories, once mine, now twisted and corrupted, serve as a grim testament to my entanglement with the Flood's malevolent grasp. With a shiver coursing down my spine, I utter the words that seal my fate, words that echo through the vast expanse of my mind with a sense of ominous finality.
"I am the Flood."