Location: Installation 04, Flood Containment Facility
Time: Late Afternoon
The swamp was like a living nightmare, thick fog coiling through the trees, wrapping itself around the landscape like a suffocating blanket. Every step I took sent a cold shiver down my spine, the feeling of being watched—hunted—ever-present. The air was thick with moisture, making it hard to breathe, and the ground sucked at my boots, slowing my progress as I trudged deeper into the unknown.
Cortana's voice broke the silence inside my helmet, the static in the comms making her sound distant. "The last known transmission from Captain Keyes' dropship originated from this area. That was over twelve hours ago. When you find him, signal for extraction, and I'll notify Echo 419."
"Roger that." My voice sounded hollow against the eerie quiet of the swamp. Twelve hours. Too long. Keyes and his team were either captured or worse. I gripped my Assault Rifle tighter, moving forward cautiously, scanning the shifting fog for any sign of movement.
There was a strange absence of sound here—no birds, no insects, nothing but the distant croak of swamp wildlife muffled by the fog. It was unsettling. The deeper I went, the stronger the stench of decay became, mixing with the heavy scent of wet earth and something… foul, like rot.
I came upon the charred wreckage of a UNSC dropship—Victor 933. The distress beacon still looped weakly in the background, a reminder that the people who had been here were long gone. The area was littered with discarded weapons and Covenant bodies—Grunts and Jackals mostly—but no sign of the Marines.
"They didn't stand a chance," I muttered to myself. Cortana remained silent, likely piecing together the grim puzzle herself.
As I pushed on, the silence became deafening, only broken by the faint squelching of my boots in the muck. My motion tracker flickered with erratic blips, but they vanished as quickly as they appeared. It felt as though the swamp itself was alive, watching from the shadows, waiting to strike.
The deeper I moved into the fog, the more the landscape felt wrong. The Covenant had clearly been here, but something had shaken them. A grounded Spirit dropship lay ahead, half-submerged in the swamp, with a scattering of terrified Grunts and disoriented Jackals milling around it. Their confusion was palpable, as though they were caught between fleeing and fighting, not sure what to be more afraid of.
They spotted me and reacted instinctively—plasma fire arced through the fog toward me. But their shots were erratic, unfocused. I took them down quickly, noting their wide, panicked eyes. They weren't relieved to see me; they were trying to escape something else.
My gut twisted as I passed by the downed Spirit. I crossed a narrow log bridge, the swamp around me now feeling more like a trap than a landscape. Shadows darted at the edges of my vision, and my motion tracker continued its maddening dance of fleeting contacts.
Gunfire cracked through the mist—automatic fire. UNSC. I picked up the pace, rushing toward the source of the sound, hoping to find some of the Marines still alive. As I approached, I saw them—a group of Covenant troops running, fleeing from something deeper in the facility. They weren't fleeing from me. They were scared, truly terrified.
The Covenant don't run. Not like this. Whatever was chasing them was worse than anything I had ever seen them fear. And now, I was heading straight toward it.
Location: Inside the Containment Facility
Time: Early Evening
The entrance to the facility loomed ahead, cold and foreboding, its alien architecture a stark contrast to the natural chaos of the swamp. The lift descended into the heart of the structure with a low hum, the darkness of the facility closing in as I was swallowed whole by its depths. The temperature dropped, and the air smelled of mildew, metal, and something I couldn't quite place—like meat left too long in the sun.
As I stepped off the lift, the shadows of the containment facility pressed in from all sides. My rifle was up, ready. The further I ventured in, the more the walls and floor were stained with dark, sticky smears. Blood—both Covenant and human. The bodies were torn apart, ripped open by something savage. This wasn't the work of plasma or bullets. This was something else. Something far more brutal.
The echo of distant movement broke the silence, the faintest of sounds in the cold, damp corridors. Grunts and Jackals huddled in doorways, twitchy and afraid, waiting for something to happen. They were trapped here, too, whatever courage they had drained away by whatever was hunting them.
I pressed on, coming to a wide chamber with shattered glass and scorch marks lining the walls. A lone Marine sat slumped against a wall, a pistol trembling in his hands. His eyes were wild, darting around the room as if expecting the shadows themselves to attack.
He looked up at me, panic flooding his face. "Stay back! You're not turning me into one of them!" His voice cracked, and he raised the pistol, hands shaking violently.
"Easy, Marine," I said, lowering my weapon slightly. "I'm not one of them."
His eyes never settled. "The monsters... they took everyone." His voice was a hoarse whisper. "They're everywhere. They're inside! Oh God... they're inside!" He rocked back and forth, clutching the gun like it was the only thing tethering him to sanity.
I stepped past him, knowing he was too far gone to help. His mind had broken, lost to the horrors of this place. Whatever had happened down here, it had driven men to madness.
As I moved further into the complex, I found a helmet lying on the ground, the name "Jenkins" barely visible through the grime. I knelt and removed the recording chip, inserting it into my HUD.
The feed flickered to life, and I saw it through Jenkins' eyes—the same corridors I was walking now. The squad moved cautiously, Captain Keyes leading them deeper into the facility. Then they found the bodies—Covenant, mangled beyond recognition. Something had torn through them like a force of nature.
And then it came. The Flood.
Squid-like creatures, swarming over Jenkins' squad. They latched onto the Marines, infecting them, transforming them into twisted, grotesque versions of their former selves. The squad's attempts to fight back were futile, and Jenkins' recording cut out as the Flood overtook him, his body crumpling to the floor.
I ejected the chip, the weight of what I had just witnessed settling heavily on my shoulders. The Flood. That's what had been unleashed here. That's what had wiped out the Marines and Covenant alike. And now, they were loose.
Before I could process further, the doors behind me burst open, and the Flood poured in—just like in the recording. They moved with horrifying speed, their infection forms skittering across the floor, leaping at me with terrifying precision.
I opened fire, the roar of my Assault Rifle echoing through the room as I cut down wave after wave of the creatures. But there were so many of them, too many to hold off for long. I backed toward the elevator, but it had gone offline. There was no way out.
"Cortana, the elevator's out!" I shouted, the Flood closing in.
"Find another way, Chief!" she urged, her voice tense. "We can't let them spread!"
I fought through the swarm, my mind racing. If the Flood escaped this facility, it would be the end for everyone on this ring. I had to contain them. I had to survive.
Deeper into the facility, I found another lift and rode it upward, cutting down more Flood as they swarmed from the walls and ceilings. Each encounter left me more battered and weary, but I pushed on, my focus solely on reaching the surface.
Location: Outside the Containment Facility
Time: Evening
When I finally emerged back into the swamp, the world had taken on an even more ominous hue. Fog rolled in thick waves across the ground, and the air was heavy with the stench of decay. My HUD flared to life as Foehammer's voice crackled through the comms.
"Chief, is that you? I lost your signal when you went inside. What's going on down there?"
I took a moment to catch my breath, wiping blood and grime from my visor. "You don't want to know," I muttered, eyes scanning the swamp for movement. "Prep for extraction."
The fog parted just enough for me to see a group of Marines pinned down by the Flood, their faces pale with fear. They had been fighting for hours, holding off the creatures with what little ammunition they had left. When they saw me, hope flickered in their eyes.
"Sir! We've got to get out of here!" one of the Marines shouted, his voice shaking. "Those... things... they're everywhere!"
"Fall in," I ordered. "We're heading to extraction."
The Flood swarmed from all directions as we made our way through the swamp. I fought with everything I had, cutting down the twisted creatures as they closed in on us. The Marines fought valiantly, but I could see the exhaustion in their eyes. We had to move fast.
As we neared the extraction point, a strange blue light descended from the sky, cutting through the fog. Machines—floating, humming, and glowing—appeared out of nowhere, slicing through the Flood like they were nothing. The creatures fell in droves, but the machines ignored us completely.
"What the hell are those?" one of the Marines muttered, his rifle trained on the strange machines.
Before I could answer, a bright golden light enveloped me, and the world around me dissolved.
When the light faded, I found myself standing atop a massive tower, a strange blue orb hovering in front of me.
"Greetings," it said, its voice calm and mechanical. "I am the Monitor of Installation 04. I am 343 Guilty Spark."
I raised my rifle, unsure of the floating machine's intentions. "What do you want?"
"Someone has released the Flood," Guilty Spark replied. "My function is to contain them. But I require your assistance. Follow me."
Before I could protest, the world around me shifted once more, and everything went dark.