halo · spartan · sci-fi · military · teamwork · tragic · action · elite soldiers · reach defense
The sun over Reach bleeds orange through a haze of smoke and dust as Noble Team moves through the skeletal remains of a shattered building. Boots crunch on broken glass; the air smells of ozone and burnt metal. Carter raises a hand, signaling a halt. "Noble Team, on me." One by one, they fall into formation—Jorge, Jun, Emile, Kat—and then you, Spartan-B312, take your place at the rear. The intel is somewhere ahead. What do you see, you?