(Missed the start? Here’s part 1: https://www.halowaypoint.com/en-us/forums/92b5c5cfee994e7299608301a6b2eb11/topics/war-games-landfall-part-one/fbd29d38-5e6e-404e-b6da-75668c29a13f/posts?page=1)
The hammer struck the grey Spartan square in the chest and caved in his breastplate, probably shattering every rib he had, before smashing him through the wall. Spartan 666 ‘Plague’ grunted softly as he pulled free his hammer, and gave it an approving pat.
Still, there was some guilt gnawing at him. Stuart was a close friend and kind soul; killing him never felt… fun. Still, a kill is a kill, and he wasn’t planning on losing this match.
Empowered by his victory Plague ran up the stairs, hoping to encounter a new foe in the Bay’s tight hallways, but his motion tracker showed no nearby activity. What a shame. All this destructive power and no one to crush with it.
Out of nowhere something hit the back of his knee as a hand grabbed and pulled his shoulder. Plague fell down his back and had just enough time to see the transparent shape looming over him.
- The knife pierced Plague’s throat easily and reached all the way into his spinal cord, killing him instantly. The Gravity Hammer slipped out of his lifeless hands and clattered onto the floor. Spartan -Yoink!- ‘Brom’ decloaked next to his comrade, cheerfully humming as he reclaimed his knife. That was a good kill. Even Plague himself would have to agree with him on that.
After his cloaking ability had recharged itself, Brom exited Bay IV, making his way across what used to be a square at one point, but Covenant plasma had turned the lot of it into a smoldering crater. There a burst of gunfire drew his attention, and further ahead he could spot a lone Spartan emptying his clip at something inside an alley. Time to get social! Brom activated his cloak and dashed across the street, his knife gripped tightly in his hand. This was going to be good.
- Out of nowhere this bright pink Spartan slammed into the front of the Warthog, and was catapulted over the windshield like a ragdoll, nearly causing Spartan D13 ‘Drup’ to lose control of the wheel.
“Son of a -Yoink-!” Durp shouted, fighting to regain grip on the road. “Where the -Yoink- did you come from?!” But in the end he won the struggle with his Warthog and kept racing through the street, though twice as alert.
“-Yoink- cloakers,” he muttered, while heading for docks. Running someone over wasn’t nearly as fun when you didn’t even know they were there in the first place. But perhaps he could find another one of those clowns to add a matching dent on the other side of the hood. The best plans were usually the simplest ones.
Oh! There! Further ahead a figure was crossing the street. Durp hit the gas and sent his engine roaring like a beast. “Come on you!” he bellowed. “Let’s see what color you bleed!”
But Durp would never find out. A blinding flash of green blew up his engine, and sent the molten glass of his windshield splattering into his visor. Drup knew he was screwed even before the Warthog toppled over and crashed into the wall.
- Spartan BST ‘Beesting’ fired two more round from his Fuel Rod Cannon at the flipped-over vehicle, and made short work of Durp’s attempted vehicular manslaughter. The emerald explosion reflected in his visor and the purple Spartan nodded approvingly, his golden war stripes catching the setting sun.
Allowing himself a moment to enjoy his handiwork, Beesting couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t had this much fun since they attempted adding flamethrowers to the Oddball simulation, which had ended up getting them grounded for a week. Ah, good times…
Tchwick.
Tchwick? Beesting looked to inspect the source of the strange sound and found a blue ball of fire roughly the size of a tennis ball stuck to his right shoulder, whirring dangerously.
“God friggin’-”
- Attracted by all the explosions Lloyd peeked over the edge of the rooftop and found a Spartan standing next to the burning wreckage of what used to be a Warthog. It could have been Beesting - hard to tell from that distance - looking very pleased with himself and all epic like. Well, every idiot could blow up another idiot with a Fuel Rod Cannon. But could he do this?
Lloyd leaned over the edge as far as he could, biting down his tongue while pretending to do any real calculations. Then he pressed the button and let go of the Plasma Grenade. It fell for a bit and then attached itself right on target. Yes!
With glee, and no small amount of pride, Lloyd watched his friend go up in a bright burst of blue fire. That was going to up his score nicely. Maybe he could pull that off again…
But no such luck. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice declared that the match would end in sixty seconds. Already?! Boy… Play time was over. If he hurried he might be able to get back at Phil, blast a hole through his face.
Lloyd nodded purposefully while his Binary Gun assembled itself in his hands, and scouted the streets through its scope, unaware of the little red laser that had settled in the middle of his chest, growing brighter by the second.