"Ares Team. Simulation concluded. Gear up. We have a live fire mission."
The Spartan's voice, devoid of inflection, cut through the comms system of the training chamber with the finality of a death sentence. For a moment, the four members of Ares Team stood frozen, the simulated victory against the Minotaurs forgotten. The exhaustion on their faces was replaced by a mixture of stark terror and grim determination. This was it. The moment their brutal, relentless training was to be put to the ultimate test.
"You heard him!" Lyd's voice, now a confident bark of command, snapped them back to reality. "Move! Armory, now!"
They scrambled out of the combat chamber and into the main workshop, which now also served as their armory. Spartan-001 was already there, standing before a series of weapon lockers that had been fabricated along one wall. His own Mjolnir armor was gone, replaced by the simple, dark fatigues he wore within the base. It was a rare, unsettling sight for the recruits to see him without his helmet, a man whose face was a mask of cold, handsome features and eyes that seemed to see everything.
"This is not a simulation," he stated, his voice somehow more intimidating without the electronic filter. "Your opponents are Hellhounds. Fast, aggressive, and they breathe fire. Your BDU's have a low-level thermal resistance, but a direct hit will incapacitate you. Your lives will depend on your training, your discipline, and the soldier next to you. Do not disappoint me."
He turned to a workbench where their equipment was laid out with surgical precision. It was far beyond what they used for training.
"Your crossbows will be loaded with Mark-4 explosive-tipped bolts," he explained, holding one up. It was a wicked-looking projectile with a small, pressure-activated charge at the tip. "They are designed to stagger, not kill. Use them to disrupt the enemy's charge and create openings. Each of you has three. Use them wisely."
He then pointed to their sidearms, rugged pistols that looked like simplified versions of his own Sidekick. "These are your primary killing tools. Kinetic bolt projectors. Slower fire rate than my weapon, but the projectiles are heavy and will punch through a Hellhound's hide at close range. Headshots are optimal. Conserve your ammunition."
Finally, he gestured to their helmets. "Your comms are live. I will be your command element. Cortana will provide real-time tactical data. You will listen. You will obey. You will survive. Gear up."
The team began to equip themselves with a practiced, nervous efficiency. The air was thick with the sounds of clicking buckles and the snap of magazine locks.
"And you, Chief?" Cortana asked on their private channel. "Going in with the full kit?"
"Affirmative," he replied. He stepped toward a large alcove in the wall. Panels slid aside, revealing his grey and cobalt Mjolnir armor, held in a maintenance frame. With practiced, economical movements, he began to don the half-ton war machine, piece by piece. The process was a symphony of hissing pneumatics and the heavy clang of interlocking plates. Once the final helmet was sealed, the world went silent for a moment before the HUD flickered to life, bathing his vision in its familiar blue glow.
He mag-locked the MA40 Assault Rifle to his back and the MK50 Sidekick to his thigh. From a separate locker, he retrieved two M9 Fragmentation Grenades and two Type-1 Plasma Grenades, attaching them to his belt. He was no longer a trainer. He was a weapon, fully armed and operational.
"Ares Team, move out," he commanded, his voice once again the filtered, baritone rumble of a machine of war.
Their descent into the Dungeon was a silent, professional procession. They moved in a staggered file formation, a ghost of a UNSC fireteam in the fantasy world's depths. They bypassed other adventurers with a wide berth, ignoring the stares and whispers their coordinated, silent movement attracted.
"Passing the fifth floor," Cortana reported over their private comm. "Eina's intel was accurate. The lower floors are unusually quiet. The Irregular spawn is likely drawing monsters from the surrounding levels."
"It concentrates the threat," the Spartan noted. "Efficient."
They reached the entrance to the 10th floor. The air that wafted up was unnaturally hot, carrying the acrid smell of sulfur and burnt flesh. Distant, panicked screams echoed up the stairwell, cut short by savage howls.
"Ares Team, sound off," the Spartan commanded, his voice a low whisper over their comms. "Ares One, ready," Lyd replied, his voice tight but steady. "Ares Two, ready." "Ares Three, ready." "Ares Four, ready."
"Remember your training," the Spartan said. "Control your breathing. Control your fire. Execute."
They descended into hell.
The 10th floor was a scene of carnage. The phosphorescent moss on the walls was scorched black in places. The ground was littered with the smoldering bodies of monsters and, grimly, several adventurers. At the far end of a large, open cavern, a small group of survivors—four adventurers in the distinct livery of the Miach Familia—were huddled behind a makeshift barricade of overturned rocks.
Surrounding them, slowly tightening the noose, was a pack of a dozen Hellhounds. They were terrifying beasts, the size of large wolves, with shaggy black fur, burning red eyes, and mouths that dripped with glowing saliva. One of them opened its maw and belched a torrent of fire, which splashed against the rocks, forcing the adventurers to cower.
[MISSION UPDATE]
[OBJECTIVE 1: Descend to the 10th floor - COMPLETE.]
"That's our window," Cortana said. "They're distracted."
"Ares One, on my mark, you will fire one explosive bolt at the rock formation above the main pack," the Spartan commanded, his HUD highlighting the target. "The impact will create a diversion. Ares Two and Four, you will target the two hounds on the right flank. Three, you have the left. Fire for effect. I will handle the primary advance. Execute… now."
Lyd's crossbow came up. He fired. The bolt streaked across the cavern and struck the ceiling. The resulting explosion was not large, but it was deafening. Rock shards rained down on the center of the pack, causing the Hellhounds to yelp and scatter in confusion.
In that single moment of chaos, the rest of the team fired. Two hounds on the right staggered back, their sides peppered with heavy kinetic bolts. The one on the left collapsed, a lucky shot having pierced its eye.
Then the Spartan attacked.
He didn't charge. He flowed. He moved from the shadows of the entrance into the green cavern light like a phantom, his Sidekick already in his hand.
CRACK. CRACK.
Two precise, thunderous shots. Two Hellhounds in the center of the pack dropped, their skulls exploding in a spray of black blood and fire.
The remaining hounds, their confusion turning to rage, finally spotted the new threats. The alpha, a beast a full head taller than the others with scars across its muzzle, let out a piercing howl and charged directly at the Spartan.
"Ares Team, engage your targets! Do not let them reach the survivors!" Lyd commanded, taking charge as he was trained.
The battle erupted into a maelstrom of fire and violence. Lyd and his team moved with a discipline that was shocking to the cowering Miach Familia. They fell back in a controlled retreat, laying down fields of fire, covering each other's movements. An explosive bolt from Ares Two detonated near a charging hound, sending it tumbling.
Ares Three, the recruit who had failed the simulation, found himself facing down a charging hound. He froze for a fraction of a second, the memory of his simulated death flashing in his mind.
"Three, fire!" Lyd's voice crackled in his ear.
The recruit snapped out of it, raising his bolt projector and firing. The heavy projectile struck the beast in the shoulder, staggering it but not stopping it. It lunged, its fiery maw open.
This time, the recruit didn't hesitate. He dropped to one knee, letting the beast fly over him, and fired two more shots into its soft underbelly. It crashed to the ground behind him, yelping as it died.
Meanwhile, the Spartan was a whirlwind of death. The alpha hound was impossibly fast, its claws leaving deep gouges in the stone floor as it lunged. He met its charge head-on. He sidestepped its fiery breath, the heat washing over his armor, and slammed his fist into its side. The impact, which would have killed any lesser monster, only made the alpha snarl in pain and fury. It spun, its tail whipping around like a bladed club. The Spartan caught the tail, his armored fingers digging in. With a roar of straining servos, he lifted the massive beast off the ground and slammed it into the cavern wall, cracking the stone.
Before it could recover, he was on it, his combat knife in hand. He drove the blade deep into the beast's neck, severing its spine. It let out one last, choked howl before its burning eyes went dark.
He didn't rest. Two more hounds were charging Lyd's position. The Spartan unslung his MA40. The roar of the assault rifle was a terrifying, alien sound in the Dungeon, a continuous thunder that drowned out everything else. A stream of 7.62mm rounds tore into the beasts, ripping them apart in a spray of gore.
Silence fell, absolute and sudden. The entire pack was dead.
[SIDE MISSION COMPLETE]
[MISSION: Trial by Fire]
[All objectives met.]
[REWARD: +10,000 System Points, Title: [Crisis Responder], Unlock Option for Schematic [M392 Designated Marksman Rifle].]
Ares Team stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily, their BDUs scorched, but they were all alive. They had held the line.
The Miach Familia adventurers slowly emerged from behind their barricade, their faces pale with shock. They stared at Lyd's team in their strange gear, then at the mountain of steel that was Spartan-001, who stood over the corpse of the alpha.
"What… what are you?" one of them, a woman with braided hair, stammered.
The Spartan turned his head, his visor fixing on his team. He ignored the question completely. "Ares One, report. Status of your team."
Lyd, snapping back into his training, did a quick check. "All members combat effective, sir! Minor equipment damage. No casualties!"
"Good," the Spartan said. He then turned his gaze from his victorious team and looked toward the dark, foreboding passage that led deeper into the Dungeon. The mission was over, but the war had just begun. This victory was not an end. It was merely the end of the beginning.
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A/N:
Hello everyone, and thank you for joining Spartan-001 on his arrival to this new world!
Your support is the fuel that keeps this journey on course. Every Power Stone you send helps the story grow and reach more readers, and for that, I'm truly grateful.
I love reading your theories, impressions, and reactions to each chapter — they are a constant inspiration to keep creating. If you have any suggestions for future chapters, please share them. And if you notice any issues with words or spelling, don't hesitate to let me know so I can improve the story for you.
With this chapter, we officially close Volume 1 — the introduction, the spark that lit the fire, the foundation of everything that is to come.
Now, we move to the next stage: Volume 2 — Project Prometheus.This volume will be longer, more intense, and far more ambitious. It will focus on the rise of Spartan-001 from a lone soldier to the leader of a faction, the building of his base and his legion, the forging of alliances, and the clash with the greatest powers of Orario.
Expect epic duels, the awakening of factions, the return of warriors once thought lost, and the revelation of Valerius Steele before gods and mortals alike.
The calm is over. The best part of the story is about to begin.
Thank you for being part of this journey — the next mission will take us deeper than ever before.