A spark.

Blue in colour, it appeared in the middle of the room.

Slowly, it grew bigger. Forming a doorway for the intruders of the other side. Six figures stepped out. Four bear the mark of the Mole. Two, the Serpent. Rifles raised, they strode out of the portal one by one, with the Fireteam Leader at its head. Their SCRAMBLE goggles worked tirelessly to scan and filter any cognitohazards that may be encountered. The soldiers worked like a well oiled machine as they took to their positions. Together, they established a perimeter around the portal covering all angles. Every member had their eyes peeled in case anything popped up yet all was going well. To be sure of their safety, the Serpents sniffed the air for any sign of thaumaturgy whether it be hidden runes or whispered spells. Nothing caught their attention. The portal dissipated with the same slow rate it had appeared. After making sure all was clear, the figures relaxed and called out.

"Radio check. 1-1."

"1-2."

"1-3."

"1-4."

"2-1."

"2-2."

"1-1 to Command, do you copy?"

"Command copies. Proceed with the mission."

"Everyone check your gear. Wouldn't want anything missing." 1-1 comments as all members of the fireteam start checking their pouches and bags to make sure nothing was out of place. After confirming everything was alright, 1-1 turns to face his fireteam. "Alright Mole Rats!….. and Serpents. Margin of error is 15 minutes. Check your reality anchors and hume levels. Any intense deviations, place an anchor there. We'll pick them up as we head back to RP. Bibliographers, anything involving magic stuff is in your purview."

"We'll deal with the…. 'magic stuff'." 2-1 assures. Inwardly, he was slightly annoyed at the use of the term.

1-1 looked at the layout of the facility on the PITCH on his right forearm. The screen showed a maze of rooms and corridors around them. 1-1 sighed. This was going to take a long time. No wonder they had packed for a week of supplies. Looks like Command had the right idea after all. Nonetheless, they had a job to do.

"Alright fellas, let's move out!" With that, they began their descent.

The Foundation enters a different yet similar reality, in order to reclaim a mighty weapon from themselves.

—

Armoured and heavy footfalls bounded throughout the hallway walls. Five giants, clad in black and red ceramite, in a careful jog through the corridor. The dim, orange lighting of the place illuminated their armour, highlighting the variety of symbols painted upon it. A white crescent and star on their right pauldron. A High Gothic Numeral of three on the left. The giants had an array of weaponry, from boltguns to power lances, the grip on their weapons tight as they moved through the corridor. Their steps were deliberate. Still, they were far from slow. The pace they took was enough to outrun a sprinting mortal. Reaching a cross in the hallway, they stopped.

"Sergeant, which way shall we go?" A giant wielding a heavy bolter asked.

The sergeant took only a few milliseconds to process his surroundings. He noted a few possible landmarks around him. No doubt the others did the same. The right turn had a sign that read 'Center', while the left turn's sign read 'Armouries'. While the weapon they were looking for seemed appropriate to be stored in the armoury, the sergeant felt that whoever was harbouring the weapon, they wouldn't be foolish enough to store it in an armoury. Auspex readings were clear for now, and seeing little choice, he decided.

"Right turn. The spear holds great power. No smart leader would leave it in insecure armouries." The sergeant said.

No protests were sounded. They all took the right turn with the same jogging pace they had taken.

The Imperium sends its finest warriors to retrieve a weapon for use against the Gods.

—

Helson knew the place seemed odd. The place was located way up in North California, away from those traitors of California. The site itself was deep in the forests of the Klamath Mountains. Just by looking at the outside, it became clear just how different it was to standard prewar facilities. Maybe it was a postwar one, but the Enclave pencil-pushers are nothing if not attentive, so a place like this would've at least had some mention in their records. On the contrary, this place had no recorded history at all. This wasn't just peculiar, it was worrying. The implications were enough for the government to send a fairly equipped expeditionary force. 15 soldiers, the best of the best that Navarro could offer, along with a team of power armour infantry, assisted by three scientists in case they needed to do more than shooting and killing.

It took some time for some of the soldiers (who had experience as engineers) to break open through the blast doors of the entrance. They half-expected for the alarms to suddenly ring and for a horde of communists to disgorge on their position, but the place was awfully quiet. Once they got into the lobby, it was clear why.

The lobby itself was a sight to behold. The design was reminiscent of 21st century modernist architecture. Even the equipment seemed both archaic and advanced. This wasn't just prewar, it was pre-prewar. Interestingly, if the place was made in the 21st century, everything still held up well. The wooden furnishings hadn't even begin to rot, instead only collecting dust like the rest of the room. That wasn't what caught Helson's attention however. The multitude of bloodied corpses that littered the floors was what did it for him. The bodies seemed to be in all sorts of conditions, ranging from burnt to broken. Thankfully, the force resisted the urge to throw up. They quickly began securing the lobby while the scientists started looking around for anything useful.

Helson withheld a frown. This was getting way deeper than he liked.

The Enclave sought to rediscover a hidden facility, and to discern its origins.

—

This was no Forerunner installation.

Reinhardt figured that much when he first got here. They were in a Forerunner installation, escorting several scientists for research. That was, until the unexpected arrival of the Covenant. Those alien bastards unexpectedly found the Halo ring they were on, leading to a pitched battle between UNSC naval forces in the area and the Covenant strike force. It went just as well as one would expect. When the order for evacuation came, they were too far gone to make it back to the ships. So they were left to die. The team was forced to evade Covenant patrols left and right, hoping for some way to get out of the ring alive.

They lost quite a number of people. Of the original 12-man research team, only five remained. Three marines, one Spartan and one researcher. It all came to a head when they were running from a Covenant squad. The researcher noticed a door that stood out. Rather than the familiar design of Forerunner architecture, the door seemed….. human in nature. They took their chances however, and ventured through the door. It was the only chance at escape that they could get. That's when they found themselves here. In a place that's definitely not Forerunner in origin.

Reinhardt checked his MA5K carbine. It was still full for now. They were careful to spend ammunition seeing as they were not going to get any supplies. His Mk IV MJOLNIR armour was still in good shape. The team was fine as well, resting after narrowly escaping their deaths.

Even with his intense training, Reinhardt couldn't suppress the feeling of a pit forming in his stomach. He could not shake the feeling that maybe, they were fools for trading their deaths.

The scattered remains of UNSC forces enter the realm of nigh certain death, only for their survival.

—

First post here. Hope I didn't disappoint.

Do tell me what I can improve upon.