Chapter 243: Hardlight Weapon Test - "Atlas' Valuable Resources"

March 15, Halo Universe

On the sunlit surface of Shield World 0459.

It had been over six months since Vulkan and Leman Russ first arrived at the core world of 0459, made contact with the Forerunner known as Tranquil Shores, and since the Atlas fleet fully secured control of the planet's core.

During this time, the two Primarchs led Atlas' elite forces to locate and destroy a dormant Proto-Gravemind on the surface. They successfully obliterated it using a metallic hydrogen bomb. While the Proto-Gravemind had developed some tactical capabilities, without fresh "food" to evolve further, it had no means of defending against a strike akin to a tactical nuke.

With Samuel Young's identity confirmed and leveraging humanity's authority as Reclaimers, Tranquil Shores activated the "purification" protocol embedded within 0459, completely eliminating any remaining Flood spores from the planet's atmosphere.

In short, Shield World 0459's surface had now been restored to its pristine state.

Atlas had also established a large biological research center on the surface.

Zooming in, within the atmosphere.

The facility, sprawling across an area equivalent to at least twelve stadiums, was situated in a desert region on the sun-facing side. Apart from the enclosed buildings, the surrounding landscape was nothing but endless dunes. Daytime temperatures hovered between 37°C and 45°C, while at night they dropped to near freezing.

Since the surface had only recently undergone purification, it would take several years, or even decades, for local flora and fauna to flourish again. Thus, no living creatures existed around the research center.

Meanwhile, hundreds of Temple Guards hovered above the facility, serving as an additional layer of security.

At the moment, in the central zone of the facility, which resembled a simulated town:

"All Class-D personnel, please proceed forward."

With the cold, emotionless female voice coming from the broadcast, over a hundred Class-D personnel—dressed in orange versions of MACRO power armor—passed through the gates and entered the waiting area on the eastern side of the testing grounds.

"Please select your weapons."

Upon hearing this, the Class-D personnel, their helmets sealed, exchanged uneasy glances and looked toward a large equipment crate not far from them.

They knew very well that once they armed themselves, they would be facing all kinds of newly developed Atlas weaponry, especially bio-weapons. The veterans who had survived previous tests by sheer luck had passed down the phrase, "Atlas is truly heartless!" to every new Class-D.

Moreover, the better the equipment Atlas provided, the more dangerous the test was bound to be.

To make matters worse, before donning their power armor, the technicians in white hazmat suits had injected them with an unknown substance.

For these reasons, the Class-D personnel were highly reluctant to follow the broadcast's instructions, unwilling to move forward.

"This is your final warning. Please select your weapons. If you remain stationary after ten seconds, we will randomly activate your self-destruct chips."

Hearing the female voice again, the Class-D personnel realized that Atlas had issued an ultimatum.

"Shit, if I survive this, I'm going to find a way to escape! There's more to the universe than just Earth!" one of the Class-D cursed as he made his way toward the crate labeled "Hardlight Weapons."

Click, click!

He unlocked the clasps and forcefully opened the crate to inspect the so-called "hardlight weapons."

"Whoa! Not bad!" he exclaimed as he pulled out a bright white rifle about a meter long. "This looks way more advanced than the stuff the security forces use."

Seeing someone take the lead and noticing that the weapons Atlas provided looked decent, the rest of the Class-D personnel followed suit, opening the remaining crates.

They retrieved weapons labeled "Hardlight Rifle," "Hardlight Shotgun," and "Hardlight Machine Gun" on their helmet displays.

These so-called "Hardlight" weapons shared a similar design—white with long gun barrels and bullpup configurations. The Hardlight Machine Gun also came equipped with a disc-shaped drum magazine and an auxiliary mechanical arm, which could attach to the user's exoskeleton or the waist of their power armor for stability and targeting assistance.

Before long, the hundred or so Class-D personnel had all selected their weapons and stocked up on ammo.

"All Class-D personnel, please enter the simulated town and prepare for the first wave of attacks," the female voice broadcasted again. After a pause, it added a "thoughtful" reminder: "You have five minutes to prepare. If you wish to survive, work in teams and avoid splitting up."

The broadcast continued, "There will be three waves of attacks. Should you survive until the end, the company will reward you generously. Rewards include extended outdoor time, upgrades to single-person cells, access to Atlas' electronic entertainment products, or meals tailored to your tastes."

"Screw you! I don't want any of that! What I want is real food! It's been forever since I've had meat!" one Class-D shouted.

"Hey, just because you don't want it doesn't mean the rest of us don't," another replied. "I'd love to play games in a private cell."

"You… Atlas didn't say we can't kill each other, right? Don't make me take you out first!"

"Go ahead and try!"

As soon as the broadcast ended, the Class-D personnel, now armed and armored, began to argue, their confidence, ambition, and desires swelling. The group quickly split into two factions.

Even in Atlas' prison, the inmates couldn't escape forming gangs and cliques. Most humans, after all, are social creatures, dependent on interaction, cooperation, and communication with others.

"Reminder: You now have four and a half minutes left—no, 4 minutes and 27 seconds," the female voice warned. "When the countdown reaches three minutes, any Class-D personnel still in the waiting area will be considered to have forfeited, and their self-destruct chips will be activated."

!?

Hearing this reminder, the Class-D personnel immediately ended their infighting and hurriedly left the waiting area. They quickly realized that the one issuing orders wasn't a mindless program but a cold, calculating AI.

With no desire to have their words recorded by the AI, which could lead to "special treatment" even if they survived, the Class-D personnel wisely kept quiet as they entered the eastern section of the simulated town.

The simulated town resembled urban areas like Arcadia or Reach under UNSC control, though it lacked any towering structures over 100 meters high.

Despite the earlier bravado, over 90% of the Class-D personnel chose to stick together, selecting a small shopping mall as their defensive stronghold. Meanwhile, a few others, betting on luck, ventured deeper into the town, viewing their grouped "colleagues" as bait and hoping to hide in a corner until the trial ended.

The four minutes passed in an instant.

BEEP—

A sound similar to a cruise ship's horn signaled the official start of the test, something the Class-D feared deeply.

Under their helmets, their faces were all tense and serious.

"Hu… hu…"

Some of those who had been locked up for kidnapping, murder, or rape—thus earning Atlas' "special attention"—saw their heart rates spike, and their breathing became labored.

Even though their power armor had temperature control systems, the fear and tension still caused them to sweat profusely.

They were far from the hardened psychopaths or extremists; these were people who feared death more than anyone else.

But after waiting for a while, the simulated town remained eerily quiet. There was no sound of a Tyrant's heavy footsteps or the howling of Hellhounds sprinting through the streets.

Could it be a new model of cloned soldier? The Class-D personnel didn't have access to the network, but they had their own ways of gathering rumors.

When Atlas had transported them from Harvest to 0459's core world via the Ark, they had seen the tens of thousands of cloned troops marching in formation, heading to cryogenic storage at the core base.

So, the Class-D personnel had reason to believe that they were here to "evaluate" the combat capabilities of these new clones.

If that was the case, they were determined to give Atlas a hard time and fight back.

Confident in their judgment and armed with hardlight weapons, the Class-D personnel gained a bit of courage.

However…

Some of the more cunning, serial-killer types who had evaded police for years suspected that they might be the true subjects of this test.

More specifically, they believed the real experiment was on the unknown substance injected into them by the technicians, and the hardlight weapons they had never seen before.

"Gurgle…!"

Just as they pieced together this grim realization, the Class-D personnel in the shopping mall picked up strange muffled sounds, like someone trying to talk with their mouth full of water. The enhanced hearing provided by their power armor allowed them to hear it.

At the same time, their pulse scanners detected numerous moving objects, turning the radar at the top left of their HUDs into a sea of red dots.

!

Seeing this, the Class-D personnel immediately tensed, pointing their weapons toward the dimly lit streets outside the windows and doors.

"Ah! What the hell are these bugs? Help me! Someone help—!"

Suddenly, over their comms, they heard the screams of a lone Class-D who had separated from the main group.

Shortly after, his signal was overtaken by harsh static, and then silence.

!!

The already heavy atmosphere in the shopping mall turned even grimmer, and fear spread rapidly among the group.

"Bugs… he said bugs, right?"

"Shit, what

 kind of monsters has Atlas created this time?"

"Look to the north side of the mall! Goddamn, that's disgusting!"

The Class-D at the north entrance shared his helmet feed with the rest of the group.

Everyone saw an almost endless swarm of octopus-like "bugs," the Infection Forms of the Flood.

!!!

"Open fire! Kill them!"

"Blow them to hell!"

Brrrrrrr—! 

The gunfire erupted.

Red beams shot from the barrels, cutting through the air at speeds far surpassing Gauss rounds, and tore through the front ranks of the Infection Forms.

Boom! Boom! 

The Infection Forms burst like balloons.

The hardlight shotguns and machine guns were especially effective, maximizing the destructive power.

Even though the Class-D personnel were only slightly more skilled than the average person, the targeting assistance and auto-calibration from their power armor allowed them to operate like sharpshooters.

But against an overwhelming number of Infection Forms, without the likes of a Primarch or Thunder Warriors to intervene, the Class-D wouldn't last long.

Click, click!

Soon, without any proper strategy for alternating fire or providing cover, the Class-D had emptied their first magazines. Only those with drum-fed hardlight machine guns continued to fire.

"Gurgle…!"

But even with just a few machine guns, it wasn't enough to stop the flood of Infection Forms.

As the Class-D personnel struggled to reload, the Flood swarm was already upon them.

The first Infection Form breached the mall, followed by a second, a third…

There were too many to count.

"Get away! Get away from me!" 

"Don't come near me!"

Seeing the grotesque, tentacle-covered, nightmare-inducing Infection Forms approach, the Class-D personnel's defense line collapsed into chaos.

Survival instincts kicked in, and they fired their guns wildly, unloading round after round into the hideous creatures.

"Help me! Ugh…!"

The horror peaked when they saw the Infection Forms coil their tentacles around their comrades' legs, arms, and necks, then use metallic stingers to pierce their armor, injecting themselves into the victim's body.

It was a fate worse than death, and the sight broke whatever discipline they had left.

With no concentrated fire or cooperation, it was every man for himself.

"Roar!"

Soon, those whose bodies had been taken over by the Flood mutated into Combat Forms and joined the battle.

The worst part was, these Combat Forms could still use hardlight weapons. Even though their aim was poor, it further reduced the remaining Class-D's chances of survival.

Within minutes, the mall was completely overrun.

However…

"Come on! You want a piece of me? Come and get it!"

"Die! Die, die, die!"

Miraculously, six Class-D personnel survived.

Back-to-back, they continued to fight against the Flood's Infection and Combat Forms.

For some reason, the Infection Forms seemed to lose interest in infecting them, attacking only to kill.

At that moment—

Thump, thump—The ground shook as a massive figure ran toward them.

Boom! Boom!—The north wall of the mall collapsed under brute force.

A Primarch, clad in Mithril power armor and standing nearly four meters tall, wielding a massive scythe, charged into the scene.

This Primarch's armor was primarily white, with brass and earthy green accents. He swung his scythe in a wide arc, instantly wiping out all the Flood in his path.

Then, in a raspy voice, he addressed the six survivors:

"From now on, you are Atlas' valuable resources. You will not be lost. Follow me out of here."

_________________________

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