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| - They had made it. Well, at least that’s what their coordinates told them. They had literally ran over twenty kilometers to make it here, this unknown construct lying in the heart of Minorca. Upon reaching it, they relayed to Lieutenant Commander Pomare their position, and immediately, their screens flashed bright red, and a message came in. KING UNDER THE MOUNTAIN UNSC Office of Naval IntelligenceSection ThreeRunning Title: King Under the Mountain, 06 MAR 2525 DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTECOUNT YOUR PAGES COUNT YOUR PAGES COUNT YOUR PAGES COUNT YOUR PAGES You are on Page 1 of 1. Count your pages. Report any missing pages immediately to Section Three ALL MESSAGES BELOW ARE CLASSIFIED ABOVE TOP SECRET UNDER CODE OMEGA. ANY DISTRIBUTION OF THESE MESSAGES TO ANY WHO ARE NOT CLEARED MAY RESULT IN COURT MARTIAL OR DEATH. Ma’am, we’ve found something. While surveying Minorca for strange seismic anomalies, we stumbled across a building of alien construction. Perfectly symmetrical even to the atomic level, with drawings and inscriptions of some sort. We deployed a team two days ago, they have not returned, however, they still make frequent transmissions, still having not found an end to this building. Request reinforcements [?], so we can figure out the full extent of this building. Sincerely, Doctor Jake Carson, Orion Archaeological Expedition /end file/ /scramble-destruction process enabled/ Doctor Carson has been lost for two weeks now. They had food for about five days. List him as MIA, presumed KIA. From the reports, it appears that the construct is like a large maze. We’re calling it the “labyrinth” and any and all files are hereby classified above top secret. I’m adding this to KUTM; it could be linked to [NAME REDACTED], or whoever built it. The area has been cordoned off and dubbed Zone 45, ONI guards are now alert and willing to shoot anyone on sight. Signed, Colonel James Ackerson, UNSC Army Azure Team finally realized what they were up against. Apparently, an unknown alien civilization with advanced technology constructed something within Minorca, and judging from the transmissions, it appeared to be a large and confusing maze, complete with trick passages, trap doors (presumed), and fake walls. Jamal hefted his BR55, while Gabriel picked up his M7, and Helen selected her MA5B. The trio walked into the first dark corridor, flashlights shining along the gleaming walls. Jamal stopped for a second, and looked around, and watched as after he stepped on a glyph, it lit up, and somehow, came out of the ground, fluttering around him, and soon, so did other glyphs. Jamal lifted his arms, and felt a presence, but couldn’t describe it. It wasn’t scary, however. It felt calming, comforting, much like a mother holding her child. He stepped off, still analyzing the corridors for any and all hostile threats. Behind them, Jamal heard the door close, and before that, heard the sound of a Scarab. Gabriel stared in wide wonder at what had happened to Jamal, and proceeded to step on another glyph, revealing a console off to his side. After staring at it, he noted in his log that the “letters” looked a lot like Aztec (or something like that), and strangely, he proceeded to manipulate the glyphs, revealing a map of the Labyrinth. “How did you do that, Gabe?” “I don’t know… I just knew…” “Well then, I’m guessing that red beeping light at the far left corner is us” butted in Helen. “If so, then it’s going to take weeks to clear this place out… and we don’t have the necessary equipment to do so…” “Alright. We proceed outside to the awaiting Marine platoon. We grab some backpacks, stuff ‘em with food and the like, and we come back, and we find out what’s in here, and why the Covenant want it so much.” The trio turned around, and as soon as they stepped out into the humid jungle air, the Scarab appeared before them, cannon open and ready to fire, standing in what could only be a “fighting stance”, ready to blow them to shreds. Not even thinking, but on pure reaction, Gabriel switched to his SRS and fired at the most heavily decorated beast, wearing a strange headdress. It was furry, very tall, and looked more like a large gorilla than an alien. The 14.5mm round split apart, revealing the depleted uranium bolt that took down the creature’s shields in short order, exploding its head in a large spray of red blood. After doing so, Gabriel ducked to one side, narrowly avoiding the cannon’s lethal radioactive spray. In the mean time, Helen hefted her SPNKr rocket and fired at the walker’s joints, and after running out of ammo, watched as Jamal and Gabriel leapt from a tree that they had climbed, right onto the deck of the mechanical marvel. Jamal and Gabriel, just like they had in the battle cruiser, stood back to back, weapons at the ready, staring at the strange, new enemies that were closing in on them. One hefted what could only be described as an oversized revolver, and before he fired, he was met with a deadly spray of 9.5mm bullets, and the fight was on. Gabriel literally snatched his SRS, and “no scoped” two of the monsters and beating another across the head. Turning his attention to one that was about to sneak up on Jamal, he fired; ripping the being’s head off. Jamal, finding his footing, yanked his shotgun from his back, racked the slide, and then shoved the barrel into the open mouth of one of the “oversized monkeys”. He fired, and avoiding the spray of brain matter, turned again towards another, and yet, another, killing the two within a second of each other. After the brief battle, Jamal and Gabriel found a way to disable the scarab instead of destroying it, blowing four of its legs clear from its body, as well as disabling its primary weapon. After doing so, they met up with a Marine reconnaissance unit, who at first stared at them, then began to clap in congratulations. “Grant Wallace, 427th Marine Regiment.” “SPARTAN-002.” “We saw you guys take out those two Scarabs. It was a brilliant show, gentlemen!” “And one lady.” Said Helen. “And lady” said Wallace, making a bowing gesture. “What do you need?” “We need food. Two weeks worth.” “Alright. Men, gather up your rations, pack them equally into three bags, and give them to the SPARTANs! We get to eat; they’re going into perilous territory!” After about thirty minutes, the bags were prepared, their wounds taken care of, and the three set off. After walking back through the threshold, they heard the bang of the door sliding shut, and turned on their flashlights.
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