Spread your wings. (Fan Fiction Contest)

I'll just leave this here... Two figures strode along the sand encrusted road, parched foliage casting long shadows on the coarse red dust. They had searched the place all day, hoping to find something, anything of value. The pickings had been thin. Slow, steady thumps echoed around a corner, followed by puffs of dust borne by the wind. The two hunters franticly searched their surroundings for cover. The last flicker of dusty cape vanished into the second-story window, just as a trio of Cabal lumbered around the corner, scanning the street down the sights of their weapons. Two claps of thunder rang out, echoing through the dusty cityscape. One cabal fell down clutching its face, trying to stop the controlled environment from escaping its breached atmosphere mask. Another staggered, but the round had missed the vent and impacted harmlessly against the tough helmet. It turned its gaze upward, searching for the source of the attack. As its comrade lay gasping on the ground, the third Cabal sprayed fire in the general direction of the sniper rounds, while opening a radio channel to summon backup. The hunters ducked as a burst of poorly aimed shots ricocheted around them, “Two still alive, transmission detected. This place is about to get lively.” They worked the actions on their snipers and sighted for a second volley. A pair of sharp cracks broke through the sound of the wind, causing the third Cabal to roar and drop its weapon. The second was hit again, in the dent left by the last shot, it fell over backwards – unconscious. Even as they fired, they were slinging their rifles, jumping from the window and running across, slashing at the one that had dropped its weapon and finishing off the other. “Preferred it when it was quiet – nice and peaceful”. Grimly, they counted their ammunition in preparation for the coming storm...

like it. Imagine this. Your squad's stealthing a Cabal camp for that contains a piece of technology that could really help the war effort. The Cabal already know you're there and are alert to any and all threats. It's night time and it is difficult to see targets. First, the marksman in your squad moves to a position away from your squad's designated point of engagement, the rest of the squad moves in position behind one of the Cabal. Then, you can call in an airstrike on a couple of vehicles and explosive equipment. T-minus 10 seconds. Eliminate the target in front and dispatch him quickly before anybody notices. T-minus 5 seconds. Give the signal for your overwatch to engage. His suppressed rounds pierce through two unsuspecting Cabals. Your squad moves in. T-minus 2 seconds. Sprint towards the objective. The Warlock in the group activates a short-range EMP so the door is unlocked and hostile targeting systems are offline. T-minus 0 seconds. The assault begins before a Cabal can cry a warning. Your friend from a above deploys missiles that demolish the vehicles and incinerate several Cabal. Your squad dives in and out of debris and smoke towards the objective while dodging incoming fire from all directions. The marksman kills the front guard while the Warlock activates a shield blocking enemy fire while you hack the door. You're in. The objective lays at the end of the hallway, but every inch of the way is covered by sentry turrets and Cabal who are not happy. You have limited time to make to the extraction point before your allies carpet bomb the place. Safety off. You're sprinting and shooting with your assault rifle while the Titan behind you unsheathes his sword to engage in close-quarters combat. The Warlock pulls out his dual pistols and moves to eliminate the sentries. As one Cabal after another drops, your blood races as the door in front of you starts to shut. You pour into the speed and slide under a melee strike and knife him in the groin. No time left. The Titan tosses a grenade that destroys the door controls, halting the closing door. With your friends busy, you slide under the door and into a brightly lit room. The door shuts. In the middle of the room, a small sphere shines in a strangely beautiful glow. Your heart feels lust and desire, but you shake off the feeling and listen to your mind. You slowly approach the sphere, carefully monitoring your surroundings. Your monitor says normal but your head says extraordinary. Carefully, you pluck the sphere from the pedestal. As you secure the device in your pack, it shines brilliantly then the cosmos inside collapses and shuts down. The feeling of lust subsides but you wonder why. The room shakes. That's not the Cabal. Suddenly, the roof explodes, knocking you off your feet. From the sky, a large, slender ship descends into the immense chamber. Your heart fills with dread as you recognize the symbol of the Fallen on the ship's side. Time to go.

2 noobs believed that call of duty was a good game... They played it until they raged and they killed themselves... Treyarch was sued for the incident and call of duty was discontinued... Later bungie took over the world and everyone lives happily the end

This is really well written! Your story totally drew me in! Great idea for a mission in the game.

Dust I hear you walking, still. Is my shadow there, broken, whispering in the red sand? Memory and time twist and fade in heaps of broken images. There is a city in the desert. The ancient walls shake with sound, something big moves the air above, footsteps fall in rapid percussion, a freight train hits me and I am suddenly elsewhere, weak and scraped thin. I lay in silence, calm within a hurricane’s pillar where machines of war work their terrible purpose. The Fallen are with us, silhouetted by the sky in the wasteland of our creation. There, hushed light strobes upon a fiery muzzle. I begin to fade, you disappear into the dust, distant cries echo through neural pathways and a million deafening keys rattle into locks as I sleep in pieces. I have a dream where I'm falling, flying into the earth. There is a road, open, within a limitless canopy that curves away, down, down, down. A gentle push, sudden release; I slip out the bottom and go sailing. The ground recedes high above. Up is down. I spin and tumble. There is no end. Once more, however, time reaches out in whorled spirals behind us, twisting, fading, carrying memory and shame deep beneath where all is noise and arms outstretched, I am rising. Ashes to ashes to life everlasting; the Traveler calls us back from the deep abyss, for good or ill. My body aches. Joints and flesh and wires growing, twisting, becoming whole. Eliot had it wrong again. There is no fear in this handful of dust, nothing to fear under this red rock. Dead a thousand times, to follow the path is our destiny and our curse, for we are the Guardians. I awake to the sound of your voice.

Heck i am doing this for fun i will accept(Good Writer idea guy just bad speller) if i win but doubtful as many good entry's are here. I would like to expand my story. Like how did the boy and dog end up here ? What happened before the guardians came ? What happens on the journey back to the ship after defeating the Vex ?What were the Vex doing at the Black Gardens any ways ? Is this not Cabal territory ? All good questions i have my self. Once this is over i will expand the story. Any input ?

So when can we expect to see the finalist posted?

Red sands churn and swirl as a solitary Hunter approaches his destination. He’s been trudging through the dunes, avoiding the gargantuan Cabal where he can and fighting when he must. His destination? A forgotten, ruined building that was once called the Joyeuse Center for Advancement, one of the greatest research centers on Mars. Although there has been a few probing attempts to find anything of value, no one has explored the lower underground levels. And if the Hunter’s assumption was correct, then ancient, forgotten technology was within reach. And with that came riches and a place among the most famous of Guardians. As he reaches the crest of the next dune, he sees it. His target. But there was something else. He wasn’t alone, as a squad of three other Guardians had already made it to the entrance, and they had attracted a small squad of Cabal. This wouldn’t be a problem except that these were obviously powerful Cabal, boasting large shields and quite a bit of firepower. Dammit. He had been hoping to make the journey alone, add to the bravery of the exploit. But extra company wouldn’t hurt. He lines up his rifle sight. Two Titans and a Warlock, not bad for an excursion. Bet they’re not too equipped for ranged fighting though. He hefts his sniper rifle. It’s one of his favorites, he found it on a dungeon run with a few of his friends. He loved the name too: “Gungnir”, the mythical spear of Odin that never misses its target. Well, let’s see if it can live up to that name. He looks through the sight. Six Cabal, all of their backs turned. His crosshairs settle on the leader. His finger tightens on the trigger. A smile crosses over the Hunter’s face. “I love this job.”

I'm too late to enter the contest, but I wanted to post something regardless. Words: 277 The wind blows slowly, languidly through the desolate city, a derelict icon of a bygone era, its glory shined through and rusted away. The sand shifts, and if one would listen the faintest cry would be heard, the cry of the fallen, their deathly echoes captured in their tombs, from the very rocks and walls they had once called home. And if one would watch for long enough, a shimmer might be seen, a glint of that shining golden age, a land that had once been great. And through this vision one might glimpse a horrid, dreaded, ghost which coupled with their damned voices would feel all too real as to fool the eyes and mind. As to witness the fall of mankind Take head, for this desert had once given, but the years have turned its kindness to dust, till all that remained was loss. Harden your heart, for you enter the city of the lost, Harkin now any prayer that brings you comfort, for you tread upon the ground of the hollowed. Watch your step for the sands of mars run deep and red, built up with grounded bone, and stained with rivers of blood. Load your weapon, so that you might protect yourself. For there be no safe haven in this Palace of the Sands Load your weapon, so that you might protect humanity So that the fate that befell the past, might be spared the future Load your weapon, so that you might meet your destiny. Be ready, Be Brave. Soldier of the City, Messenger of the traveler, Deliverer of Destiny For the fight is not yet won.

[b]Martian Crypt[/b] The Buried City. Former Capitol of Mars, hub of commerce. The terraforming, gone: trees and vegetation, wasted away without their human curators, atmosphere as toxic as before the Golden Age. A sandstorm howls above as a trio of guardians cautiously investigates the ruins of the old city center. “Bunker… Sealed from the outside...” the Hunter murmurs. The Titan -Exo, standing a full head over its compatriots- presses against the enormous shield blocking the door. Creak, creak, moaaaaan. “Another graveyard, then” the Warlock supplies. The shield gives way, then the door. The Warlock’s ghost flits forward to restore power to the cavernous room, revealing a massive tomb. Hundreds of skeletons litter the ground, piled atop each other, some ground into dust. Scorch marks and ancient bloodstains mar the walls. “These people didn’t starve.” “No,” the Hunter says approaching a blinking console. “They didn’t.” She accesses the most recent file. [i]My name is Clement, lead researcher of technology at the Institute: I am the last. We detected their ships only moments before they were upon us. Giant beasts, merciless. My wife. They... oh gods! They destroyed her! Survivors retreated to the city storm shelter, hoping to wait out salvation, but the aggressors found us instead. I feigned dead; thought they bought it. But no. They left me alive, alone. The last. My city burns, dead! I can’t get out. I starve. I rot. The air is rancid. Days have passed in misery, in darkness. What’s become of Mars? What of Earth? 3% power remaining. The light strains my eyes. If you find this, go to the Institute. There are powerful secrets buried deep I haven’t the time to detail. That must be why they attacked. It must be! Remember us.[/i] Silence. To honor the perished. Then, “Ready up. We’re reclaiming that Institute.”

Instinctive: A Destiny Short Story The Fallen show an astonishing level of organization and adaptability, especially for a race that has been broken apart as badly as they have. If Humanity has anything in common with them, it’s those two things. Everyday, the moment the sun rises, casting its ethereal splendor onto the husks of buildings abandoned from the days of Humanity’s golden age to the sand, a small group of Fallen exits the building they occupy, to patrol the area, hunting for prey that wanders too close. Prey being guardians, and this group has made a high enough body count that action is being taken against them. The best way to cause disorder is to cut off the snake’s head, and this snake has a head not to be taken lightly. A Fallen Captain, old, strong, and merciless, many guardians have become a victim of his. Everyday he leaves the relative safety of the occupied building to lead his patrol on a thorough search of the surrounding area. I know all this because I have been laying in wait on the balcony of an apartment across from the entrance for 7 days, peering through my scope, learning and waiting. The sun crests the hill behind me, and the Fallen leave their fortified position just as a sandstorm begins to creep into the area. Within a few minutes the group is completely blinded, and the captain becomes separated from the main group. This is a chance I have been waiting for, I stand up, fixing my scope onto the Captain as the cloud of sand breaks, and the Captain looks up. We look into each other's eyes. I am a hunter of The Last City, and I can see that my quarry knows the instinctive fear that comes from being prey.