Flames crackle in the pale moonlight. They're scattered throughout the city's remains. Patrols of grunts and elites pollute the once bustling streets like a plague.
The whirring of overhead phantoms fill in the brief gaps of silence left by the deafening whisper of the wind.
Hissing, then a click. Your drop pod opens, and you're tossed into the ruins of New Mombasa. You're small. Not the hulking 9 foot master chief, but a humble footsoldier. And you're deep in enemy territory. The only sources of light the dim cerulean glow of the covenant's energy weapons. These aliens tower you in stature. They vastly outclass you in firepower, and their numbers are in the thousands. You're just a rookie with a submachine gun and a dream.
If humanity already lost this fight, what hope do you have?
The next ten hours are then spent conducting a one sided massacre on hundreds of giant aliens.
The whirring of overhead phantoms fill in the brief gaps of silence left by the deafening whisper of the wind.
Hissing, then a click. Your drop pod opens, and you're tossed into the ruins of New Mombasa. You're small. Not the hulking 9 foot master chief, but a humble footsoldier. And you're deep in enemy territory. The only sources of light the dim cerulean glow of the covenant's energy weapons. These aliens tower you in stature. They vastly outclass you in firepower, and their numbers are in the thousands. You're just a rookie with a submachine gun and a dream.
If humanity already lost this fight, what hope do you have?
The next ten hours are then spent conducting a one sided massacre on hundreds of giant aliens.