Mythic 1

A solar mass slowly hovered past the horizon, bringing with it the beginnings of dawn. Patches of grass and weeds litter the land that would have been otherwise barren. Rocks and boulders of sand, earth and metal laid scattered across the rugged landscape. A deep gorge carved a path that arced through, providing shade for the tendrils of flora below.

Backed up against a tall cliff was a structure. This building seemed to be alien, with a dull metal that scattered its reflected light. Closer inspection revealed that some parts were not of the same material; steel and titanium alloys were crudely yet strategically strewn here and there. Together, they formed primitive walkways and doors.

A dull buzz was heard in the distance. As the sound grew louder, a pair of lightly armored warthogs roared past, jostling their crew as they negotiated the undulating terrain. Nearing the structure, the warthogs slowed, stopping in what appeared to be a garage made of scrap metal. Their five passengers dismounted from their vehicles.

The foreman turned off the rumbling engine of his warthog, and the driver of the other vehicle followed suit. The soldiers gathered their equipment, tucked away during the ride, and began to walk back to the base.

“Ugh,” muttered one man as he retrieved his sniper rifle and ammunition from the passenger’s seat. “Why couldn’t we get a nicer piece of real estate, cap?”

“Are you going to complain every time we come back to HQ, Eagle?” retorted the driver, who was unloading the shotgun from his side of the warthog.

“Yea, I am.” whined Eagle.

A rider from the adjacent warthog picked up her needle rifle with one hand and struck Eagle in the femur. The sniper hopped around, cursing in his evident pain, before finally stumbling into a stack of supply crates.

A moment of peace persisted as the other four shuffled with their supplies and gear. As one passed by the heap that was Eagle, she kicked him with a bit of force, being rewarded with a sharp “ow!” from beyond the crates. “Hey, are you going to wake up any time soon, lazy boy?” she spat.

“Ah, leave him alone, Bertha.” replied the soldier holding the shotgun. “You know how he is about this base.”

“Alright, Viper,” she concluded. But before she walked away, Bertha took the opportunity for one last kick, which sent Eagle sprawling to the cold metal floor.

“Will you people STOP hitting me!?” quipped the annoyed sniper.

“If you did some work then maybe we wouldn’t have to ‘motivate’ you.” rejoined the soldier with the needle rifle.

“Easy for you to say, Crackshot” Eagle responded, “you don’t need to zero in every shot you take. Just three and BOOM, your target explodes!” The sniper made some exaggerated gestures to reinforce his statement.

“Enough with your lame sex jokes,” Crackshot remarked, taking the opportunity to strike Eagle in the side. “Just go and help Aura with those crates.”

“Fine…” muttered Eagle as he walked away. The final soldier, who had been struggling with some ammunition crates for energy weapons, shoved the boxes with relief unto Eagle, who grunted with exertion as he tried to balance them as he walked.

“Hey,” piped Aura, whom up to this point had remained quiet, “since when did we have six people on our team?”

“What?” responded Viper. “We only have five people on our team. What do you mean?”

“I mean that,” Aura noted, pointing at a mysterious figure that leaned against a column of neatly positioned boxes.

“Wha–” Viper and the other three suddenly stopped their unpacking and raised their weapons at this new figure.

They slowly closed in on the newcomer, weapons clacking and hissing as they readied their weapon. As they neared, Viper noticed that the helmet of this person was different. It did not seem like UNSC-issued. In fact, though he himself was not much of a forensics expert, the helmet had a distinct characteristic of a skull. Not human, nor elite… but something like both. Like some twisted fusion. There were the distinct roundness of a human skull, as were the eye sockets, teeth and jaws. However, from the sides of the skull grew four mandibles, similar to those from a sangheili. Perplexed, this only made Viper more anxious, has his index finger hovered dangerously close to the trigger of the shotgun.

Only when they were at arms length did they realize that something else was amiss: this person was asleep, evident by a subtle snoring.