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Five minutes had passed and there was no sign of the Pelican. This was bad news for the ODSTs. Lipton pulled out his COM and opened a channel to Capt. Lee. There was a considerable amount of static and he wasn't sure if the captain would be able to hear him. As he spoke the Pelican arrived. It turned and began to land on the small growth that was as strong as concrete.

"Captain, this is Lipton, I need immediate evac. Repeat, need immediate evac. Our exit brought us up into what's left of High Charity. Lock onto my signal and send something! We..."

He never completed the message. The entire structure shook and a tremendous scream resonated within his own head. He dropped to his knees and clapped his hands over the outside of his helmet, as if he was trying to cover his ears. It was to no avail, the scream was coming from his mind and High Charity itself; coming from the Gravemind. His vision blurred and his head pounded. The Pelican slammed into the wall and settled to the ground. Containers were knocked out of the rear bay and equipment fell to the ground. The wave of pure anger was horrible. It was so powerful it overwhelmed him, he saw what the Flood saw. A massive ring rising from the clouds. A new Halo, unfinished but most definitely a threat. He saw two figures, both clad in armor. The Master Chief and the Arbiter, standing on a ledge overlooking the reborn ring. He saw the monitor sputter about gleefully.

"What will you do?" Asked the orb.
"Light it." Said the Spartan.
"Then we are agreed! A tactical pulse will completely eradicate the local infestation! I will personally oversee the final preparations," the orb said as he floated excitedly in the air before turning toward the ring and flying off, "though it will take time to fabricate an activation index, I will see to the letter to..."
The Arbiter turned to the Spartan and cocked his head.
"How will you light it?"
The two figures turned towards him, and his vision cleared.

Lipton gasped for air inside his helmet, not because he needed it, but because of how badly his head hurt. He looked around and saw the others in a similar situation. He stood and tried to clear his mind when things went bad.

"JESUS! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!" shouted one of the ODSTs.

Lipton turned and instinctively raised his weapon. They were completely surrounded by the flood. Infection forms, carrier forms, combat forms, forms he had never even seen before. They screamed and bellowed and fell under the barrage of fire the Marines produced. A flood creature the size of a hunter sent one of the Covenant equipment crates flying toward the humans. It ricocheted off of the gooey wall and struck one of the Marines who had come in the Pelican in the head before bouncing off into the abyss below. The Marine's skull was crushed and he fell limp to the floor. The ODSTs pushed forward into the crowd of Flood after they were cut off from the Pelican. Several men fell when fighting in a lowered area to the right of where the Pelican had landed. The others continued to press forward. Lipton was with them the entire time.

After what seemed like hours of fighting, which had in reality only been a few minutes they found themselves deep within the catacombs of High Charity and the Gravemind. Guzman had been forced down a corridor that remained in it's Pre-Flood form, clean of the Parasite. He backed into a passageway within the wall, incinerating everything that followed. One of the large flood forms followed him in. There were flames and a scream, then the hulking form emerged from the breach with blood on it's clawed arm. Lipton and his men were pushed further inside the Gravemind. Deeper and deeper until they found themselves within the city's core. By then only Lipton and two others remained.

Plasma fire and needles rained in from all sides. When the barrage ceased, the two men were dead, with large holes ripped in their backs or with spikes protruding from their corpses. Lipton was alone, outnumbered, and out of ammunition. He waited for the Flood to press the attack. He waited for them to come. They didn't. The sea of undead bodies simply stood there, as if watching him. This was when the voice came.

"You are not of their kind. Why do you fight for them?"

Lipton was speechless. He had nothing to say, nothing he could say.

"I will make you a part of me. You cannot escape that truth."

Lipton looked at his surroundings, looked at his enemies. Looked at his choices. He edged back towards the ledge.

"You can't have me! Mankind isn't just some kind of food for you to consume!"

"Your kind is like those who came before you. They perished and yet I endure. Their crimes are passed on to you."

Lipton guessed the Gravemind was trying to get him to submit. He stepped closer to the edge and felt himself back into something.

"I will not be denied. I have earned everlasting victory."

Behind him stood one of the tank forms. Massive creatures that seemed to be made of pure flood biomass. He turned to face it when the form brought its unclawed arm down on Lipton's head. The blow smashed the visor of his helmet and left a large dent in the top. He threw the now useless piece of equipment away and shook his head. He felt an infection form drop onto his back and felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, just below his neural implant. Without thinking he unsheathed his combat knife and stabbed the infection form, killing it. The form bulged and popped, spewing puke-colored goo over the back of his head and armor. He readied himself for another wave and prepared for a suicidal hand-to-hand combat fight.

The combat forms stayed back as infection forms swarmed him. He dodged left, right, down, up, every which way he could before being brought down under the sheer weight of the combined forms. They clawed at him and tried to infect him. Their pincers and piercing needle-like appendages waved about furiously. He rolled and kicked and punched and stabbed, killing as many as he could. When finally he felt another hot p***k at the back of his neck. Though this time something cool spread throughout his veins, calming him. He felt his muscles begin to relax. With effort he clambered to his feet and smashed the bulbous infection form against the wall, splattering it. The coolness continued to spread however, and he went limp. Other infection forms swarmed near, preparing to consume him. They crawled all over him, waiting for the paralyzing agent to take full effect.

He continued to fight as long and as hard as he could, until finally his vision blurred and failed. All sensation left him, he could feel nothing, see nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing, say nothing. It was as though he was dead. Then there came a coolness. It was soothing, welcoming. It started at the base of his neck and slowly spread through his entire body. His conscious mind understood what was happening, and despite the horrible truth of it all, he was curious. Terribly curious. There was still no sensation, he was adrift in the void of his own mind. Slowly, and with effort he brought his mind to bear. There was another presence there. Something not entirely his own. The knowledge he possessed of the creature was enough to enable him to give it a name. The Gravemind.

With each passing moment he felt himself become less a man and more a monster. And yet the transition stopped. His mind remained his own. There was no violent action, no dramatic attack, only subtle suggestions and gentle reassurance. He knew where he was and why. He knew what it knew. It was right. He was a part of the Gravemind. And yet, a part of him remained. The smallest fragment, the tiniest sliver imaginable. But he was there. The human marine who had served faithfully for so long was nothing more than a fragment of a memory. The Gravemind had allowed him to keep his mind but not his body. A form of torture so excruciating the devil himself could not have thought of it. In that brief moment of connection between himself and the Gravemind, in which the Flood robbed him of his bodily functions, he exposed a great deal of information. The Halo ring was a threat. The Spartan, humanity's savior, was a threat. And there was something else. Something incredibly familiar. Something that was reaching out to him through the connection of the Flood. Something curious. Something human.

"Who are you?"
"What are you doing here?"

Lipton was silent. He could not speak for he had no mouth. He could not articulate words, for he had no time.

"It's not safe here. The Gravemind. It... it knows so much."

"SUBMIT!"

"Help me."

Lipton was left to ponder the meaning of this for some time before he was cut off entirely from the outside world. He could not comprehend the meaning of any of the events that had befallen humanity. From the discovery of the Covenant to the discovery of the Flood. Each event had drawn them inevitably closer to destruction. For all he knew, the Covenant had already won the war. Then, suddenly and inexplicably his connection to the Gravemind was lost and his eyes were filled with light. He was on the ground, unable to move. There was an immense pain in his stomach. He felt fluids spilling out, felt unbearable pain in his spine. Air seeped through his now spongy skin, his perforated lungs trying desperately to fill the hole. He was suffocating and bleeding to death, though his body required none of these functions to live. He knew that he had become a corpse, and that he was doomed. He could no longer return to Earth. He made his peace with God in what little time he thought he had left. When he saw the source of his relief. A towering figure clad in armor. A golden faceplate reflecting what little light there was in the bowels of the Gravemind. The figure looked down at Lipton's body, paused for a moment, and unslung the shotgun on its back. The Spartan aimed carefully, and with the muzzle flash, Lipton was released from ever doing service to the Gravemind again. And yet Lipton continued to exist. The Gravemind had taken his knowledge and incorporated it to its own. The Flood held all that Lipton had once been, and casually tossed aside every piece it could not use. Condemning them to the abyss. And deep within the caverns of Flesh and bone and steel, laughter rumbled from the walls. The Gravemind had won. Lipton was a part of it, and it was immune from the Forerunner's last, pathetic defense. All that stood between it and dominion of the galaxy, the consumption of all organic life, was the final secret held by the accursed intelligence construct. It had lured her companion here, in an effort to find the truth. It would not be denied.

Captain Mendez yelled back at the marine stumbling out the back of the complex, motioning at the same time for the demolitions experts to set off their charges.
"Good! Get your a** to the RZ, marine!"

Inside the generator facility, the flood combat forms clustered and attempted to destroy the barricades left in place by the marines that had passed there. Their brute strength far surpassing that of the men and women that had passed but recently, the metal barricades flew apart under the continuous barrage of thundering blows. As they did, the claymores set into position erupted into a brutal shower of antipersonnel flechette needles. The near-supersonic rounds tore through the crowds of flood like paper, dropping more than a dozen corpses at each choke point, but the flood's numbers were simply too great to destroy by traps alone. Mines, tripwires and shaped charges all erupted at the same time, the entire generator facility went up in smoke, and for a few seconds silence reigned and only the dull crackling of dying flames could be heard.

{{POST INCOMPLETE, TOO TIRED}}

The Sangheili commander stood rapt at attention as the bodies of the honored dead were incinerated aboard Shadow of Intent. Had the cursed parasite not shown its foul head, they would have burned the bodies on the surface of the Ark. Paying tribute to their fallen comrades through quiet prayer. Their deaths had not been glorious. But they had all upheld their duties and their honor. The damage from the flood-laced debris cast off from High Charity was extensive on the starboard side. The Arbiter was nowhere to be found. The human Spartan had likewise disappeared. The human assault team that had gone beneath the ground had not returned. The last remnants of the human marines were making their way back to landing zones for evacuation. The parasite was spreading like a foul wind, corrupting the sacred Ark until it was reduced to a tomb.

"Commander!" one of the veteran warriors said quietly, "the Shipmaster wishes for you to join him in the Command Center."

Anso nodded and plodded off toward the Assault Carrier's command bridge. As he entered, all eyes were drawn toward the massive view screens and a holographic projector in the center of the room. An image of the Ark was being displayed, from their current location, far above the Flood infected ground. Safe, for the moment. The station was as majestic as it had been when he had first laid eyes upon its hallowed arms. Yet something was amiss. The ruins of High Charity bulged out from the center of the ring. A dark blemish on the tranquil surface. But that was not what held their attention.

A ring rose from its center: unfinished, vulnerable, and unmistakable. Halo. His eyes widened in both fear and elation. At last there was a way to destroy the Parasite. They had already succeeded against the Prophet of Truth. Now all they needed to do was light this new ring, and the Gravemind would be destroyed. The Flood annihilated. But how? All records indicated that an index, a holy icon, was needed to activate the rings. Then he understood where the Spartan had gone. While he had served the Covenant on the first Halo ring, during the outbreak of the Parasite, he had been tasked with discovering the location of a sacred icon which could activate the ring and secure the Great Journey. They knew the structure that held it. They found it, raided it, and killed everything within it. But they were too late. The Spartan had beaten them there. He had the icon. Or his Artificial Intelligence did. In the battle above the second Halo ring, installation zero-five, the Covenant’s homeworld of High Charity became the home of the human’s Artificial Intelligence. She had the Index. But she was not with the Spartan now. They had been separated after the Parasite attacked.

He was going after her. She must be buried within the ruins of High Charity, deep inside the Gravemind itself. He did not envy the Spartan, though he wished to be by his side, if only to strike back against the Parasite. Presumably the Arbiter was with him.

“Commander, see to the evacuation of the remaining humans. We must leave this place if the Arbiter and the Spartan are to complete their plan.”

He understood now. They were going to light the ring. They were going to kill the Gravemind, once and for all. He understood what staying would mean, and he knew that no one must be left behind. He saluted the Ship Master and left the command bridge. Rather than wear the traditional combat harness, he decided that it would be more prudent to wear a sealed combat suit; one that would offer more protection from the parasite’s attacks. His helmet was that of a commander in the special assault forces. The humans erroneously referred to it as a “commando” helmet. In truth, it was worn only by the commanders. The “commandos” in the Sangheili military wore the standard Assault or Combat harness. Now that his armor was secure, he stepped into the waiting hold of a Phantom, and began his descent to the Ark’s surface, where the humans fought valiantly below.

Jon looked back to see Devin struggling against the flood, she was a Sergeant? he couldn't believe he had never seen an officer ranking higher than him before..maybe she was new? oops...he was surrounded by flood, not the time to think about socialities.

"Mam you alright? we should get out of here before they catch up to us!" he called out to her.

"Right!" Jon yelled when he got back up next to Devin. "I'll be the rear guard, I prefer to not leave until I know my comrades are safe.
As they left told the RZ once again, Jon stayed behind Devin and made sure nothinh in-human...or only part human, caught them, making sure he used his good eyes and steady hands to shoot the flood right in the parts of their chests where they were weakes, he was lucky the database with info on the flood had been found right before they got briefed for this mission...

Jon was surrounded by flood infection forms, he took out two combat knives and sliced them as they got near him until nearly none of the bulbous little bastards remained "I'm fine" he said, sheathing his knives and pulling back out his MA5C-ICWS. "Lets go, things are goin to gey very worse very soon!"

Jon jumped and landed right next to Devin and nodded, almost any other marine would have been covered with the little bastards and infected, but his accuracy and speed saved him once again. Jon still had his knives out, so when Devin gave him a questioning look he held out his MA5C, dropped, and said. "Spent, let's go."