Some housekeeping real fast: First, Merry Belated Christmas. Second, hopefully, updates will be more consistent from now on. Besides a possible snag in early April to mid-May, it should be relatively the same.
My thoughts on Halo: Combat Evolved 2: Episode 7: The Force Awakens.
It's the best game of the year because every other game is a disaster.
Eh.
6/10. Was thinking of a 7 but sitting on it, there's something deeply wrong with the campaign that prevented me from giving it a seven. As the title suggested, they just took the second level of Halo CE and ran with it which is...fine. After doing like three side-mission, the loop was understandable... Though core gameplay is fun there didn't seem to be a point for it to be open world other than to pad it out. After the first three, I just ignored them.
The Coven- I mean Banished are fine. Eschareum (However you spell his name) is a bit cliched but still dope. His lil Elite sidekick is pretty cool. Harbinger is...He's there. I found it interesting they contacted Paramount to get the rights to the flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz. They're...ya, they're also there. Just Drones essentially.
The Endless are... I've seen some reddit posts, and some fuckin' 1984 logic of fanboys trying to explain it, but looking at the FACTS, no it's not Offensive Bias or whatever. It's something ELSE that's SO MUCH WORSE THAN THE FLOOD OMG THE STAKES JUST GOT RAISED SO MUCH HIGHER ASHJDI GDHIO shut the fuck up. It's fucking stupid. The whole fucking unspoken rule is the Flood is the worse thing in the universe. Idk man, I fucking hate this shit of some unnamed, unknown enemy that was oh so BAD, but was conveniently never mentioned before and it's just retroactively being applied to everything... Fuck, I hate it. Unless it's the fucking Precursors, it's fucking bullshit.
Cortana 2.- Sorry I meant Joy (yes, I also so that reddit post) is...fine. It's just quirkier Cortana.
Idk man, they retconned everything within Halo 5. I get it. Halo 5 was fucking awful. I sat down the other day and tried to think of any redeeming qualities, and the only one I can come up with is that it was short. But for fuck's sake. Quit doing the pussy thing and either do one of two things: ONE, double down and improve, dignify and justify the shit you already have, and make the fans like it (ex: the prequels and clone wars), and thus keep going with it to at least tell a cohesive story. Or TWO, literally ignore it and pretend it didn't exist and just make a direct sequel to Halo 4. As in like Halo 5 is no longer canon. Like not even that, it got completely memory-holed.
But I just look around and it's like: wtf, did I miss a game? Seems like a lot of cool shit happened.
Oh, it's also cool everyone else is literally somewhere else.
Also, STORYTELLING THROUGH FUCKING AUDIO LOGS IS NOT STORYTELLING. FUCK.
Also wtf is the Reformation? Is that just a play on the Reclamation, because it's...I get it as a use of the term, but it feels like they're retconning the entire fucking thing.
Idk, those are my thoughts at the moment. Core gameplay is good. Grapple hook, though it is ridiculous to think of a Spartan just spider-manning in the air, is fun. Multiplayer...well, everyone has their issues on that.
Either way, in the end despite all this I am legitimately glad Halo is back and on top. But I think a lot of people get this confused with "this is the best game io-dgfsa joidsg blah blah blah." This is certainly nowhere fucking near the best Halo game. It's an alright game with a story that does what it did like with the Force Awakens: takes no risks, rehashes a bunch of things and slightly rebrands them as something else, tells a small and comprehensive story... I guess. But in the end it does its job: revitalize a franchise. That's it. Halo Infinite is nothing more than a tool.
That's it. Like it's just... Eh. It's just...there.
Anyways, I may implement one or two things from Halo Infinite's story, but that's about it. Hope you enjoy the chapter.
Hallway clear. Floor clear.
Save for the dead bodies.
Cerberus standard with newly modified lead-based armaments.
He picked one off the floor and looked at the service number. Different digit pattern compared to UNSC serial numbers and no manufacturer imprint.
He removed the magazine. 6.5 mm ball. Twenty rounds. Recon styled optics. He pulled back the chamber handle. Slow cycler fully automatic. Extremely strange for what looked like a DMR styled weapon. It was like the manufacturer's couldn't decide if they were making a DMR or an assault rifle. And unlike many UNSC weapons, it wasn't bullpup designed.
He left it next to the dead body and inspected the rest of the unusual armament. 9 mm pistols, pump-action rotary magazine shotguns along with standard UNSC battle and assault rifles, and a handful of Covenant plasma weapons.
Miranda's files were beginning to make sense. It seemed that Cerberus knew nearly everything. Had access to nearly everything.
And the Master Chief had only fully realized it when he had saw… Jorge. Another Spartan that he hadn't seen in decades cased in ice. And he wasn't sure how Jorge died. Bullets. Plasma… The Chief did remember reading the causality report. How he stayed aboard the Covenant supercarrier…
Another comrade lost.
The Chief approached another set of doors, already partially opened as a dead Cerberus Spartan laid in between. A dried trail of blood right behind him, indicating he was dragged away from his comrades. Near the bottom of the door, the metal had bent, indicating he had grabbed on, trying to save himself. His exoskeleton was crushed in numerous pieces. Metal strips broken like glass.
The Chief stepped through into the room and saw the body of an Elite.
A Covenant Elite, dressed in minor dark blue armor and armed with a very old type-52 plasma rifle. He had dragged the Spartan through the door and was shot to death by…something. Large sections of his body was blackened. The Chief kneeled and saw the smooth line of charred armor and skin.
He's seen this before. Plenty of times.
Sentinel Beams.
And no Cerberus soldier was armed with it. That meant…
The Chief finally noticed what room he was in and stood up. The Spartan's head nearly hit the ceiling. The room was a lot smaller than the previous armories, cryo-chambers, and Spartan staging areas. Blue wisps of smoke spread about, surrounding a handful of cryo-pods. In the center were more tables and…
The body was sitting, propped up against one of the tables, surrounded by a dead UNSC Spartan team. Dried pure black blood painted her standard grey naval armor, covering her name tag and few rows of ribbons. Black hair smeared with caked blood; chunks pressed to her skin. She had a pistol. Chamber empty. The Chief approached, weapon still raised, and again kneeled.
He observed a single bullet wound in the side of her head, in the base of the skull where her neural implant would have been. Judging from the vector, wound-size, and so on, she had shot herself. And more than likely did not die instantly.
He remembered her as she once was. He remembered her as a candidate. He remembered for some reason she always ate everyone's left over food.
Admiral Osman's skin was pale, body was stiff. She's been dead for days. It seemed this was where she made her last stand. Her, and the other… The Chief stepped closer to one of the UNSC Spartans. IIIs. Some had died from plasma wounds, others from Sentinel beams.
The Chief tried to piece it together. Cerberus, with overwhelming force, pushed Admiral Osman and her team into this room. They locked it, tried to hold off… Where did the Elite come from?
Well, the Chief knew the Elite originally came from the Long night of Solace, but…
He looked up.
Numerous broken panels and air ducts.
They had entered from above. Ambush. And to confirm, the Chief saw another body hidden behind a cryo-pod. Another III, with stab wounds consistent with an energy sword. Right next to her was a dead Elite. Zealot class.
The Elites ambushed them, probably thinking the War was still going on. So what about the Sentinels?
The Chief turned to the end of the room. To black windows broken and glass shards spread everywhere. They must've flow in from there… At the same exact time the Elites broke in.
Too coincidental.
There was a beeping echo through the dark. It was coming from Osman.
A blinking blue light came from her hand, under the pistol grip. It was a chip. An AI chip.
He quickly pushed the pistol out of the way. And took out his empty AI chip. Cortana's chip. He protectively gripped it, trying his best to not look at the empty circle, and inserted Osman's chip into his helmet.
The Spartan's heart began to race.
Access Recognized. The words displayed across his HUD.
Sierra-117, MCPO. Dated 22570902.
Voices began to play in his audio speakers.
"Get those doors closed now!" A voice had screamed.
It's a recording… The Chief thought
"Who else made it…?" Another asked.
It's just a recording…. He lowered his head. His breathing slowed. He still kept listening.
"There's another way out, but…" the first voice said. "I think we know what's that way…"
"Out of the question," a commanding voice replied. Admiral Osman's. "Get me Lieutenant Banks, and all team commanders. FLAG orders are in affect. Burn this place to the fucking ground!"
"Ma'am…" The other voice mumbled. "Indiscriminate targeting will…."
"It'll refocus his attention," Osman clarified. "Can we get a signal back to the UNSC?"
"Ma'am! It's a huge risk. I'm not-"
"Jun, those are your orders. Understand?" Osman yelled as metal clashed in the background. More than likely, it was the other Spartans barricading the door.
"…Aye, ma'am." Jun replied. John had heard that name before… He looked around. He didn't seem to be among the dead.
"Signal team reports planetary quarantine, but we'll try," another Spartan reported. "I want a weapons and ammo count, now!"
"Anyone not in a strategic position, order them to their RVs. See if they can find a way out," Osman ordered.
"Aye, ma'am."
"How long have they been in those cryo-pods?" A different Spartan asked.
There's a break. Rumbling static. It jumped to 25570904.
"Encode. Master Chief… John…" Osman shakingly said. She was coughing, voice trembling. Her breathing was unrhythmic and sickly. And it couldn't help but surface all her fear. "Priority access. Encryption status, for Master Chief Petty Officer John Sierra-117."
"Encryption locked. It's up to you to hide the rest," another rather familiar voice said.
"John…" Osman said. The Chief realized she was speaking to him. "You're the only one I trust. You and Blue Team are the only ones I know with absolute certainty that are uncompromised.
"It was worse than you can imagine. Far worse than we could all imagine." Osman continued. Something crunched in the background. "Our scouts report a Cerberus-controlled prowler entering troposphere… John, Cortana is here, and I know you'll be right after her. Where she is exactly, I'm not sure. But she's here for now, and more than likely she'll stay for some time. This place has the only available-"
There was a scream. A gurgling scream. Another voice, another Spartan came on, "ma'am, make it quick!"
"We knew… We knew about these Relays, Citadel, Beta Humanity… Wasn't a large step to place agents. Wasn't long before we saw this Commander Shepard come along and showed the Citadel all the signals, the Reapers…"
"This is Spartan Mark-G313, logging full initiation of Cole Protocol on my mark. Date: 2557-09-04. Time-"
"The Illusive Man outplayed us," Osman said through the noise. "Outplayed me. And Shepard helped him."
"Data sanitized," the other familiar voice said. Chief recognized him as Contradiction, Captain Florence's former AI. "As for myself?"
"What about the cryo-pods?" Another Spartan asked.
"When we first met…" Osman continued. "His agents had first begun to hunt ours done successfully in droves… Ha, he thought we were some sort of indoctrinated Reaper servants. Humans with no history, no Extranet imprint… Ghosts… But we came to an understanding. We both understood the necessity of Humanity's survival…"
"Fuck it. Unlock them. Throw it at them," another Spartan replied.
"We unleashed a monster," Osman said. "And we gave him the means to go toe to toe with the UNSC. I thought we could control him, I thought…"
"Defrosting…" the same Spartan said.
"I never realized he had learned everything…" Osman said. "In the past year…"
"Holy fuck," Contradiction commented.
"Mostly. When he found the Collector based, it gave him everything he needed to know. The Collectors knew about the Halos! About the Ark, some…snippets about the Forerunners… And if they know, the Reapers know…" Osman said. She began to cough. There was a chaotic encryption of noises beginning to form in the background.
"I got movement from above!" A distant Spartan said.
"The Reapers know about the Halo locations… He found the Halo locations through the Collectors… John… I need you to listen to me…"
"This is it, boys!" Spartan Mark yelled. "Ma'am! You got eighty seconds!"
"He first visited Requiem. For some reason, he went there first. He talked to the Didact! He was smart enough not to let him out… I think the Didact told him everything… I think he found some Forerunner database, something called the Domain…"
"And with the death of the last Forerunner…the signal started… From the Relays… The signal of the beginning of the Reclamation. The same signal that lured the Legend After to the Relay near Zeta Halo. He wanted the Didact dead, John."
More chaotic sounds. More yelling. Spartan Mark spoke, "sixty seconds!"
"There's no coincidence you ended up there, Master Chief."
Osman grunted as something seemingly pushed her to the floor. There was a momentary pause as she tried to grab for the chip. Shuffling on the floor, she got it back.
"That signal, John, is not Forerunner! We don't know what it is, but we analyzed it-"
"Forty!"
"An Indoctrination signal. A similar structure sparse and weak, and so altered it has no effect on anything… But, in concentration, as for Captain Florence… I don't know why they picked him."
"Thirty!"
"Fuck…" Osman yelled. She spoke very quickly. Words nearly morphing together. "There's something the Illusive Man knows that ONI doesn't. In the last year he became more erratic, more volatile. Something in the Doman triggered it. I never saw it coming… Fuck… Under article h-tac-one-five-one of standing wartime general order zero-zero-one, I relinquish the billet of the chair of the Office of Naval Intelligence, Commanding, to Master Chief Spartan Sierra-117. You have complete command and access of ONI resources, if you can find whatever's left. Stop the Illusive Man! He wants Cortana. She's still embedded with the activation indexes from Halo, the Ark, all the memories… There's another recording here… For Commander Shepard, he'll understand. Get it to him. The Reapers are far older than we could ever imagine…. He's trying to use them. Be careful here. The Long Night crew, the survivors… Cerberus changed them… Indoctrinated them…"
"Twenty! Ma'am, Cole Protocol needs to be enforced now!"
"ONI did only what we thought was right. To protect Humanity. John… My people only followed orders. They only did what they thought was right. It's my fault. Their innocent but don't make the same mistake as them. Don't place your faith in your superiors."
"Ten!"
"Goodbye, John," Osman muttered. There was a sudden sob. "You're the only reason any of us made it through the training. I want you to know that. Thank you."
And there was a muffled, single gunshot. The recording ended.
The Master Chief carefully took the chip and placed it in one of his suit's hardcases. Taking Cortana's empty chip, he placed it back in his helmet. He stood up and looked at the dead Spartans and the empty cryo-pods.
Cerberus knows about the location of Halo. Of the Ark….
No coincidence seemed impossible, with Cortana on guard throughout all those years…alone, degrading…
Maybe impossible.
And Osman only recorded at the last second. When she knew with absolute and complete certainty she would lose. If only she recorded a minute, an hour prior… How much more information the UNSC would have…
Selfish.
"I can fill you in on the blanks, Spartan," a voice said. The Master Chief turned, assault rifle raised to meet a calm blue holograph, displaying a man wielding only a cigarette.
"You can lower your weapon," the Illusive Man said. "Unlike Shepard, I would never hurt you…no matter what you do to me."
"Where is she?" The Chief replied as he circled the hologram, rifle still raised. Nothing on motion scanners, but those can easily be tricked… He began to back up to the far side of the room, at the very least be able to see all that's happening.
The Illusive Man ignored the question, "you're the unknown variable, John… I want you to know I wish I had you instead of Shepard. I wish I had you against the Collectors. Absolutely loyal, without question…"
"What the hell happened here?" The Chief interrupted as his back hit the wall. With the rifle still raised, he reached down and grabbed a grenade he had scavenged earlier from a dead Cerberus solider. Spike grenade.
"Understand, too, I need her. Humanity needs her…
"I tried to create an army of Spartans here, among many other projects that took place in this facility. Not IVs. Not IIIs, but all modeled after you… Hyperlethal. Doctor Halsey is correct, John, I truly believe you are Humanity's next step in evolution, thus our only hope to ensure the advancement of Humanity, not just its survival."
"How do you know that name?"
"Cortana has been telling us many things," he replied.
John had no idea what to do. Shoot him was his first reaction, until in such a split-second he had to remember it was just a hologram.
But he remained silent. The Illusive Man finished his cigarette before slowly and deliberately taking another and lighting it, "the Didact never wanted us to take the Mantle, never wanted to see Humanity raise itself from the stone tools and huts they condemned us to…"
The Master Chief looked around, trying to find strategic points. He could climb above, and there was that other access way… To…whatever was behind there as that one Spartan in the recording had mentioned.
"ONI originally came to me because they knew it was only a matter of time before the UNSC made contact. They knew the Reclamation would slowly roll through, and they knew in their historical analysis, HIGHCOM didn't win the last war. You won the war. And with you gone, ONI believed with the utmost certainty that Humanity will not win the next one. The Forerunners made you destined, Master Chief. You are pure prophecy. The Librarian confirmed ONI's belief. I-"
"And I thought I liked to hear myself talk," John said as he slowly inched himself towards the next door. "I didn't win the last war. Commander Keyes, the Marines, the Arbiter and the Elites. It was all our effort."
"All because Cortana showed you the way. The only reason Commander Keyes and the rest of the Marines made it through was because of you. The only way the Arbiter and the Elites survived was because of you. You ignited High Charity, you destroyed Guilty Spark. And before that you had crushed the Elites and inadvertently created the Arbiter. You were the Catalyst for the Schism.
"Without you, none of us would be here. This is what ONI concluded with. I agree."
"Always great to meet a fan," the Chief replied. "Osman told me you want the Activation Indexes. You'll get everyone killed."
"Not everyone…" The Illusive Man said as he took a drag. "ONI wanted to stop the Reclamation, wanted to…halt Humanity's greatest achievement."
"That's what's happening, John…" the Illusive Man puffed the cigarette. "A final transfer of the Mantle… A great competition happening for eon." He took a long drag of his cigarette. "Even the Flood have their motive.
John turned back to him… He lowered his rifle.
"…What?" He barely said.
"There's were only three… 'groups' that wanted to stop the Reclamation. Two are dead. One by your hand. The last one… They were defeated once. They can be again.
"I need your help again, John."
The Master Chief circled the holograph, heading towards the door Osman and her team didn't want to go through. And the Chief was beginning to suspect why. To suspect the utter worse.
"Are they here?" The Chief asked as he readied up, as he quickly mentally reviewed old tactics. He saw an older version of the assault rifle on the ground. MA5B. Sixty rounds. He was going to need it.
"The situation's more complicated-"
"Are they here?" He saw as he quickly switched out weapons.
"It's why I need your help," the Illusive Man emphasized.
"What the hell did you do?"
"Something that requires sacrifice-"
"Stop with the antics," the Chief calmly said. He stepped closer to the door.
"Open those doors, and you may release something that can never be contained again," he warned.
"You need me to help contain it."
"No. There are more important matters-"
"There are no other matters," the Master Chief replied. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."
The Illusive Man finished his cigarette and reached for another, "I think I have a more clearer understanding than you, Spartan.
"And if you ever want to see Cortana, alive, again-"
"You need her," the Chief interrupted. "You're more dangerous-"
"I'm no more dangerous than a human protectionist group so arrogant they believe they're the upholders of the galaxy. No more than the Forerunners attempting to manipulate the Mantle to nearly be synonymous with their own technology."
He was going to continue to speak sesquipedalian, and the Chief did not have the time nor drive to play along. It felt like a distraction, especially as the Illusive Man seemingly waited for the Chief to ask more questions.
And maybe he's right. Maybe behind those doors was the hell that was supposed to be destroyed. But John had to see it. Had to see if Cerberus was as crazy as they seemed.
"Everything the Forerunners have ever done has only gotten people killed," the Master Chief said. "The Mantle, the legacy, it seems like Admiral Osman was trying to stop you from taking it."
"The Mantle is Humanity's birthright. And the Forerunners tarnished it, altered it into some religious, intangible abstraction. You now merely believe it is the Reclamation of Forerunner technology. It is far more than that.
"And it didn't…go into storage when the Forerunners died. This is all planned," the Illusive Man said.
"The other group…" The Master Chief began to realize the plan. "They're…"
"That's why Shepard's plan is flawed," the Illusive Man replied. "They're the key to Humanity's victory. And they know it."
…
The hologram faded.
They were trapped.
"Commander," Wrex said as he observed every possible point of defilade. "What the hell does he mean by contain?"
"I don't know," Shepard said. "But it seemed to worry him. Miranda?"
"No idea either," Miranda said. "Could be those Reaper constructs, intel sanitation… Can't think you can take anything he says at face value."
Shepard heard the faint patter of liquid running down the wall. Water, cyro material, he wasn't sure.
Tali and Miranda began to work on a way out in silence. Wrex slowly approached the Spartans.
"They explode," Shepard mumbled.
"What?"
"They're booby trapped. Their bodies are laced with micro-explosives."
"Fuckin' nice," he said as he skirted around the perimeter, trying his best to get a good view of Cerberus' new armament. A black rifle with the trigger guard directly behind the magazine slot. Wasn't a bullpup like most common UNSC weapons.
There was a clang. Metal hitting metal. Everyone reacted instantly, a combination of old M7 avengers and UNSC weapons aimed upwards.
The lights faded near the top of the makeshift wall. Yet the Commander could see a thin line in the atmosphere. It looked like a shield curtain, nearly the same one he saw back on Omega during the Cerberus occupation. A figure was standing on the wall directly above the area.
"Keelah…" Tali jumped, nearly firing her weapon until she fully observed the bipedal legs covered in purple armor, Its body mostly covered in shadows. Shepard could see a single green dot in the darkness acting as an eye.
Elites. Elongated, beak-like helmets and a body adorned in purple armor. At least, that's what they would've looked like. What the info stated on Elite special forces of the Swords of Shanghelios
Tali looked at the Commander, finger on the trigger of the borrowed lead shotgun. There were three in total, standing completely still, all wielding the hilts of energy swords. Shepard only noticed none of the other Elites had eye display lights.
Slowly, they lumbered back into the darkness.
"…What the fuck?" Wrex asked.
"Friendlies…?" Tali added.
"I don't know," Liara replied. "I think it's best we get out of here to find out."
The Qurian lowered her weapon, tilting her head. "Do you see the static field of particles… Little dots that float around and surround the shield?"
"I think?" Wrex replied.
"Air molecules are being incinerated…. It's a complete containment."
"So?"
"Shepard, you said Cerberus used these for population control on Omega, right?" Tali asked.
"That's right," Shepard replied. "Only specialized mechs could pass through the shield."
"It seems unnecessarily excessive, and expensive."
"What do you mean?"
"Well…" Tali said, thinking for a moment. "You can achieve the exact same population control measures with electric fields, cordons, or simple automatic turrets, or just plain walls. It's not a pressurization field, so it doesn't protect against gravitational lost…"
"What are you trying to say?" Shepard asked.
"It's a sterilization field. Almost akin to medical sanitation, just more extreme." Tali concluded.
"Well, all I got is we probably can't go through that way," Wrex said. "We should probably find a way out of here."
Shepard turned to find the way they came from blocked by the same energy field.
"Alright, scavenge what you can. Let's calmly look for a way out," Shepard replied. They were in deep, and everyone knew it as they carefully snatched away weapons without triggering the Spartans' bodies. Thermal clips seemed rare. They could be stuck in here for hours, and with older rifles at the very least there's a "infinite" supply of ammo. And with UNSC weapons, at least the ammo doesn't seem to run out.
Tali, know armed with standard UNSC shotgun, seemed to figure out the nomenclature rather quickly. After loading in one shell the wrong way, with the gun rejecting it and popping it out, she got the hang of it.
"Shepard?" Liara said as she handed him a UNSC pistol. It was black, and a lot smaller than standard. "Cerberus design, I think. I'm already running low on thermal clips for my Paladin."
"Same here," Shepard said as he took the foreign weapon. It felt strange, more angular. Seeing plenty of UNSC marines do it plenty of times, he grabbed the end of the pistol, and pulled back the slide. A small lead caliber round was in the chamber. "Weird. Looks like we'll have to learn on the fly."
"What we do best," she said with a smirk.
He looked over to Wrex, who had already scavenged a bulkier looking UNSC assault rifle. Shepard saw the ammo counter. Sixty rounds.
The Krogan turned to the wall of the local building and took a deep breathe, "I think I found a way out." And before Shepard could say anything, he ran towards the concrete wall, shoulder down, and smashed right through into a small back room. It was poorly lit, with what looked like tanks of cryo liquid lined up along the walls.
"Right…" Shepard said, "good job, Wrex."
The team needed to get out before the Illusive Man decides to close the box. Proceeding into the liquid storage room, nitrogen and other materials leaked from their caskets and onto the floor, creating a noxious – probably dangerous – mixture of gas. The air filters, working at the molecule level, kept out the dark white smoke. More than likely… Hopefully, this building ran through the entire area.
"We need a way to reach Garrus and the Normandy. The situation is…." Shepard trailed off.
"Yeah," Liara merely replied. "Those Elites… I've barely had time to study the phonetics of their language, but…"
"Could be anyone," Shepard finished. "Long Night crew, friendly Elites."
"You think there're friendly Elites here?" Tali asked.
"I don't think they really follow the UNSC's orders," Liara replied. "Whatever they are at this point."
"Just assume everything is hostile down here," Shepard said as the team approached a pressurized door. Tali began to bypass process as the rest of the team tacked up.
And once the doors opened, Tali barely mumbled 'Keelah' before Wrex yanked her into cover.
Reapers.
Hundreds.
Thousands maybe.
All huddled in the rest of the cryo-gen room. The Collector replica where Shepard couldn't even see the end of. A mere bright orange light that shadowed the endless enemy. Among the Reapers were numerous, unfortunate Elites and various other former Covenant species. All transformed into black and red abominations with dead electronic blue eyes and various augmentations that combined Reaper nanites and biological materials. Unggoy, Kig-yar, and Shepard believed he saw what were called Jiralhanae and a strange, near broken string of worms called Mgalekgolo.
They were moving towards the end of the room. Systematically and near harmonious.
"I believe we're in the Reaper cryo storage-"
"Keelah, Liara, shut up," Tali whispered back.
So, the Cerberus Spartans were trying to contain the Reapers, and the team nearly screwed it up. They were erasing their mistakes. ONI really did a number on this place.
Huddled in the corners, trying to reach for shadows, the team looked to Shepard for a plan of action. And without the option to backtrack, it seemed like the best one was to wait. Wait for them to pass and head to wherever they were going. Shepard kneeled down, and the rest of the team followed suit. Liara, right behind him, placed a hand on his back and did her best to squeeze in next to him.
They watched the horde push forward, with Reapers scarily jumping from right above the building onto the ground. They had walked right into the middle of the enemy.
More than likely all part of the Illusive Man's strange, and arguably irrelevant, plan to control the Reapers. Shepard wondered how many of them had been forcibly turned by their hands, and how many were from the Long Night. The rest… The Citadel species…were all probably refugees.
"Jesus Christ…" Shepard whispered to himself.
Luckily for better or worse, those Spartans had down their jobs – ignoring the fact they probably started it - held the line till they could contain. Or, knowing the Illusive Man, guided them in another desired direction.
Shepard wasn't sure of the state of intelligence of Reaper infantry, but he assumed their strategy was to reach some long range comm station to send a distress signal to the Reaper fleet. Bring down destroyers and capital ships to begin a purge.
Maybe they were heading off to do that. They must've escaped only recently, considering they haven't completely overrun this facility.
How the hell do they stop this? How do they find the Master Chief in all this?
Shepard tried to reach Normandy or Garrus once again on comms, but there was nothing but static.
The earthquakes above stilled continued, shaking the thousands of pods lined up along the cylinder walls and brought a few crashing down onto the floor.
The earthquakes became more frequent and constant. Something was above them. But the Reapers ignored it, pushing forward.
Shepard looked around for their next movement point. There had to be a central control room or exit hatch-
Wrex pointed it out. Something was lining up along the cylinder walls, using the pods as platforms. Something was lurking in the orange shadows…
Is that…?
"What the hell is that…?" Shepard muttered.
…
The Chief began to look for a way out. He had to get Cortana out and get a signal out to the UNSC.
And he wondered if he had to send the one signal that would scare all of HIGHCOM.
But he needed absolute confirmation. There is no going back.
He got everything he needed. The Illusive Man wouldn't answer anything, not without some elongated argument.
"I had convinced them… Maybe they can convince you…" The Illusive Man whispered.
Something moved on IFF. Forty meters out. Yellow dots.
Friendlies.
They entered into the doorway John came out of…
"John…?" A familiar voice said.
…
Something moved among the bodies.
Among the piles of missing bodies of civilians and Cerberus troops the Keepers pulled out of the battle. Kept stacking into an endless mass, mere chunks of biomass.
Something had moved.