Deeper within the subterranean labyrinth beneath St. Petersburg, the rhythmic thud of Spartan boots echoed through the damp, cold air. The thirty Spartans, a mix of Hoplites and Stratos Infantry, moved with relentless purpose, their internal lights cutting through the oppressive gloom. Behind them, Major Anya Petrova, her UEDC unit a silent, watchful presence, followed closely, their own flashlights struggling to pierce the darkness the Spartans effortlessly illuminated.
Suddenly, the lead Spartan raised a gauntleted fist. They had arrived. The tunnel, long and rough-hewn, opened into a vast, echoing cavern. At its far end, a massive, crudely reinforced alien door, a patchwork of dark, unknown metals, blocked their path. Guarding it were three exceptionally large and tall Krills, easily dwarfing the regular Krill encountered so far. These were not the disorganized remnants they had been purging; these were elite guardians, their posture radiating a grim, unwavering resolve.
