Location: Halo Ring Installation, Interior of the Library
Time: Unknown, Likely Late Afternoon
The moment I rematerialized inside the Library, the air turned heavy, oppressive, like the facility itself was suffocating me. The stench of decay lingered, a reminder that the Flood had been here far too long. The sterile Forerunner architecture around me seemed alive—breathing, watching. Every wall, every corridor, pulsed with a malevolent energy. This was no place for living things. This was a tomb.
343 Guilty Spark floated beside me, humming his ridiculous little tune, his voice cheerful and detached. "We must collect the Index before we can activate the installation!" His voice grated against the grimness of our surroundings, oblivious to the danger closing in on all sides.
I scanned the dark, endless hallways ahead. Every fiber of my being screamed that something terrible was coming. The Library wasn't just a maze of Forerunner technology—it was a trap, a death sentence. And I was marching straight into the heart of it.
The first wave of Flood hit before I'd even taken five steps. They came from everywhere—bursting from walls, ceilings, and floors, writhing masses of infection forms, their spindly legs clicking against the metal surfaces. Behind them, combat forms lumbered forward, grotesque parodies of the soldiers and Covenant they once were, their limbs twisted and bloated by the parasite.
My assault rifle barked, cutting through the infection forms like a scythe through grass. But it wasn't enough. There were always more. The Flood were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless. Each wave crashed into me harder than the last, forcing me to reload faster, shoot straighter. I switched to the shotgun, its powerful blasts tearing apart combat forms that came too close. But no matter how many I killed, the tide didn't slow.
And then there was Spark, hovering above it all, oblivious to the carnage. "Oh, look at that! Marvelous!" he chirped, as though the flood of horrors surging around us was some sort of fascinating experiment. I grit my teeth, barely restraining the urge to fire a round straight through his metallic shell.
"We must keep moving, Reclaimer!" Spark urged. "The Index is still far below!"
"Right after I deal with this nightmare," I muttered under my breath, firing another round into the nearest combat form. The thing collapsed in a heap of rotting flesh and broken limbs, but its companions didn't slow. They kept coming, faster and more aggressive with every step.
I fought my way forward, deeper into the endless maze of identical hallways. Each one felt like a twisted reflection of the last—cold, dimly lit corridors filled with death and decay. Wave after wave of Flood surged from every corner, as if the Library itself was spewing them forth to slow me down.
Sentinels flanked us, their energy beams slicing through the Flood, but even they weren't enough. The Flood overwhelmed them in seconds, their organic bodies tearing through the floating machines with savage precision. The metallic corpses of the Sentinels clattered to the floor as I reloaded, knowing it was up to me now.
"You know," Spark hummed, still disturbingly calm, "the Flood's ability to adapt and repurpose genetic material is quite elegant."
Elegant. He said that word as though this endless slaughter was a fine piece of art, and not the grotesque horror that it was. My shotgun blast cut through the spine of another combat form, sending it tumbling across the floor. Elegant, I thought bitterly, suppressing the urge to yell. Sure, Spark. Elegant.
The floors blurred together as I ascended deeper into the Library. Each level felt the same—more corridors, more darkness, and more Flood. There was no end in sight. Just the same suffocating monotony of death.
The next wave hit harder than the last, combat forms charging toward me with terrifying speed. I dodged one's wild, flailing arms and fired a point-blank shotgun blast into its chest. The creature exploded in a cloud of decayed flesh and yellowed bone. Behind it, more infection forms scurried toward me, their tiny legs clicking against the floor in a frenzy.
I reloaded the shotgun with shaking hands, sweat dripping down my brow despite the cold, sterile air. Keep going, I told myself. Just keep moving.
Another wave. More Flood. More twisted shapes of what were once Marines and Covenant soldiers. My body moved on autopilot—shoot, reload, repeat. The endless grind of it all began to wear down on me. How long had I been fighting? Minutes? Hours? It was impossible to tell in this nightmare.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I reached the fourth floor. Spark floated beside me, still humming, still seemingly unfazed by the carnage I was wading through. "The energy barrier surrounding the Index will deactivate when we reach the ground floor," he explained, as if I hadn't figured that out by now.
"Great," I muttered, my voice hoarse from exertion. "Can't wait."
The Flood surged again, pouring out from the walls and ceiling like a dam had burst. I fired my shotgun, watching as combat forms collapsed in heaps of flesh and bone. But more kept coming, faster and more determined.
The Sentinels swooped in again, firing their energy beams into the horde. For a brief moment, the tide slowed. But only for a moment.
"Reclaimer!" Spark chirped. "The Index is near! Hurry!"
I gritted my teeth, blasting another combat form in the face before sprinting toward the next platform. The constant grind of battle was wearing me down, but I couldn't stop. Not yet. The end was close, but every step forward felt heavier, every corner filled with more horrors waiting to pounce.
The platform lowered, and there it was—the Index. A glowing green rod, encased in Forerunner technology. It looked so small, so insignificant compared to the horrors I'd just fought through.
I reached out, my hand inches from the Index when it vanished in a flash of light.
"Protocol requires that I take possession of the Index for transport," Spark's cheerful voice echoed beside me. "Your organic form renders you vulnerable to infection."
Of course. Why did I even bother?
Before I could say anything, Spark vanished, taking the Index with him.
"The Flood is spreading!" his voice called out from the ether. "We must hurry!"
A flash of light enveloped me, and the next nightmare awaited.