ARES:Gods of War

The Eagle and Snow White

Lost Sectors

Kelly and her unit had decided to leave Commander Keyes to her own devices back at the Outpost, since they still had work to do. As they approached a Crossroads on the tracks through the Lost Sectors, the Spartan commented, "... And the UNSC Signal split into two properly... Closest one is to the right and is fairly strong. Which do you want to hit first, lads?"

"Best to take the closest one, ma'am," Johnson replied as he leaned against the console, too, "Rather not hoof it back without supplies, considering the rough estimate for the farther one is a few dozen miles extra," only to watch Kelly shift gears to the right, toward the closer Ark. As they did so, Johnson got a chill up his spine that made him straighten up. A nagging feeling at the back of his head told him they were venturing toward something familiar. And familiarly horrifying, at that.

Kelly looked to him, wordlessly asking if he felt it, too. The man nodded, then slowly turned back toward his Marines, watching as a couple of them grabbed their heads in pain. God damn, of course they'd feel the vibes as well. Johnson checked his ammo and made sure he had buckshot loaded into his shotgun, murmuring a prayer to himself despite having not gone to church for several years at this point. Auntie Marcille didn't raise no godless heathen, after all.

As the tram pulled up to the Ark station, Andersen spoke through the radio, "Be advised, Chief Petty Officer, the Alva particle concentration in that specific Ark is massive. Expect no contact or reinforcements until you're out of the AO," and she could almost hear the unspoken apology in the rapidly-distorting radio signal. She tapped her com twice to signify an affirmative answer, before drawing her shotgun, gently pulling the pump back to do a check and seeing the slug she had loaded hang for a moment. Slamming the pump home and thumbing the safety on, she grabbed the rest of the gear they needed to contain any items of interest they'd find here.

Exiting out into the streets, they found the place unusually destroyed. From rubble that covered destroyed electric vehicles, to shards of glass crunching beneath their boots and whole buildings, freshly constructed and under construction, bearing the marks of battle and the scars of energy weapon discharges. Even the sky-dome above still glimmered an eerie, glitching blue that cast a disrupted light over the entire area.

"Got a bad feeling about this..." Mendoza murmured.

Johnson glared back and shot back, "Boy, if you don't shut up..." with an anger that he was keeping down. The platoon instinctively formed into a wedge as they pushed down the massive main boulevard, the debris below crunching under their feet. There was no marks telling of the dead, no desiccated bones or abandoned homes. The few pristine buildings glowed an eerie glow...

And Kelly noted both through her motion tracker and through her own enhanced eyesight that there were Rapture units trailing them and flying above them, mixed with the layer of faux-clouds up above. Their oculuses peered down on the squad, though they didn't engage. Were they tracking them for some reason? Were they trying to keep them in check?

"Sarge, we ever been to abandoned cities before?" Mendoza inquired as he swept the area around with his MA5, flashlight on as he peered into destroyed would-be shops whose shelves were completely empty, still in rows and waiting to be filled. He had a nagging feeling they'd faced something similar somewhere, but didn't know what and where. Maybe another planet, maybe the Halo ring.

"Damned if I know, Mendoza," The Sergeant replied, "All the places we fought in that were made by our folks meld together after a while. Except Voi. Damned I be if I won't be remembering that place for a while..." and he looked to Kelly, who was rather obviously running on instinct, scanning everything around them. He asked her warily, "Take it you saw the drones as well?"