Back on the command bridge, soldiers rushed around frantically, their movements mirroring the rising tension in the air. Commander Avery stood firm, trying desperately to maintain his composure in front of his crew.
"Commander, a new message just came through," one of the officers called out.
"Dot," Avery replied, signaling his AI companion.
"Already on it." Dot pulled the video feed onto the central projector.
The image of Petty Officer Johnson appeared, his face bruised and battered.
"Johnson, what's the situation?" Avery demanded, his voice sharp.
"Sir, this... this is nothing like the Flood's first strike on Installation 04," Johnson replied, his breath heavy.
Commander Avery narrowed his eyes. "Explain yourself, Johnson."
Johnson shifted the camera to his body cam, revealing the chaos in his surroundings—Marines being torn apart, overwhelmed by the relentless onslaught of the Flood.
"Sir, it's a damn nightmare down here. I need backup, like yesterday," Johnson urged, his voice filled with desperation.
Commander Avery slammed his fist on the table. "I'm sending the Spartans now," he barked. The video feed abruptly cut off.
"Dot, inform Master Chief and Noble Six. They need to rendezvous with Johnson on planet Gravorith," Avery ordered.
Dot nodded before flickering off.
Meanwhile, in the armory, Master Chief and Noble Six were preparing for their next mission. Six glanced over at Chief, his expression uncertain.
"Chief, I know we just met, but... do you really think I'm cut out for this? Fighting alongside you, especially with the Flood?" Six asked, his tone betraying a hint of doubt.
John turned toward him, his face unreadable behind his helmet. "Six, I've read your report on Reach. I know what you went through... and I'm sorry about your team. Their sacrifice means everything to the UNSC. You're the second member of Noble Team to fight on Reach and live to see another day."
Six stood up straighter, clearly surprised. "Who else survived?"
"Ex-Spartan Jun-A266. He retired from active duty and took on a role training new recruits for the Spartan program," Chief explained. Then, after a pause, he placed a hand on Six's shoulder. "This might be your first encounter with the Flood, but trust me—you'll do just fine."
Before Six could respond, Dot materialized in the room, her tone urgent.
"Chief, Noble Six—you're needed on Gravorith immediately. Commander Avery has ordered you to rendezvous with Johnson. He's in serious trouble and needs all the support he can get."
Chief's expression hardened beneath his visor. "Who gave him orders to go there? Why would he go in alone without backup?" he asked, his tone sharp with irritation.
Dot, unfazed by the tension, replied, "Please proceed to the Pelican in the docking bay. Sierra should already be there, awaiting further instructions."
Noble Six glanced at Dot. "Sierra? She's joining us?"
Dot nodded. "Indeed. She's already on standby."
The Master Chief and Noble Six entered the Pelican, the hum of the ship's engines echoing through the bay. Sierra sat inside, already geared up, her face pale with anxiety.
"Oh, thank God you two are here," she said, her voice slightly shacking. "Did you hear where we're going?"
Chief walked past her, saying nothing, and took a seat across from her, his hyper focus had a slightly terrifying feel to it. Noble Six, however, stopped and glanced at Sierra.
"Yeah," Six said, "we're heading to Gravorith. Word is, the Flood has been reforming there. Johnson went in with a group of Marines, but they're getting their asses handed to them."
Sierra swallowed hard, her fear kicked in. "The Flood... I've never faced them before. What do you think our chances are?"
Chief leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We finish the mission. No matter the cost," he said, his voice calm but firm.
Noble Six took his seat next to Sierra, nodding in agreement. "We'll get Johnson and his men out. Whatever it takes."
