Half-Life 3: Guardians

[atomicmonkey]

Hello, this is my first post, which is selfish since I'm posting my own work before I've read everyone else's. I was annoyed with the ending of Half-Life 2, so I decided to write this version of Half-Life 3, which either ties stuff off or skews the plot entirely. If you care to read it, I tried to work some symbolism in their about the Steam network and the "Half-Life Theology", and It would be funny if anyone spotted it. Anyway, I'm here in the forums to stay, and am looking forward to reading more great threads, and perhaps being bored enough one day to write a second chapter to my fan fic. :E Enjoy!

By the way, if you wonder about it later, I have a theory that G-man needs his briefcase to teleport. Also, I converted from a Word document to .txt, so it might be formatted funky. And of course it has errors.

 

[atomicmonkey]

yup it was formatted weird. just hit word wrap in notepad.

 

[Shamrock]

Too long. I don't feel like reading that.

 

[atomicmonkey]

oh, blah. let me divide it into pretty little sections, heehee...

 

[atomicmonkey]

Chapter One, Section One: "The Arrival"

AtomicMonkey notes:

Spoiler

In a subway station, the G-man (or is he?) buys gyro sandwiches every day (welcome to insanity). He sees Gordon get off a train, and flips out.

"Now Approaching, Refuge District."

With​

a rhythm long memorized by the citizens of this area, the 12 o'clock train burst dramatically through a cloud of steam, which hid the approach of the train with its intricate and opaque veil until the moment it arrived. It was a modern train, fabricated from brilliant cobalt metal, with gleaming wheels screeching the rusty tracks, squealing against the old rails until the rails could be grinded by someone to match the strongly forged grooves in the wheels. The sound of the heavy trains had once startled the citizens of this district; but now the cacophony surrounding the arrival of these elaborate behemoths was only briefly regarded.

Aside​

from the steam constantly produced there, and the grinding fanfare of arriving trains, the Refuge District was a typical metropolitan station: dim, musty, and resonant. The station was shaped like a T, with two escalators located at the end, a sandwich shop built into one wall, and a service elevator across the from the sandwich shop built into the other. The escalators both traveled upward, one from below, the other towards the ceiling. The downward one was constantly full of travelers, who swiftly and indifferently went straight to the second escalator, the elevator, or benches along the tracks.

Every​

now and then a person would travel up the second escalator, briefcase in hand, and as they left sight, a green flash would come from wherever the escalator led. The great majority of people going up the second escalator had briefcases. These people carrying briefcases were also pale and stiff, as if they had lived underground their whole lives.

The​

owner of the sandwich shop had seen many odd people traveling in the subway, but the pale ones were by far the strangest. He would have left this station years ago because of their cold imperviousness, if not for one of them, a man wearing a blue suit, who came to place a large order of gyros at 12 o'clock, every single day. The loud approach of the train had come to symbolize for him the approach of the blue man, as much a behemoth in his disturbing silence as the train was in its great-but at least bearable-screeching.

This​

day was no different: as the train hummed on the tracks, the man in blue came around the corner, just like he did every day, ordered the same package of sandwiches he did every day, and began to leave-following the exact path he took to the shop until turning onto the upper escalator.

The​

doors of the train hissed open, and something stopped the man in blue. He was seized by a spasm as though shocked with electricity: the sandwiches dropped. The blue man continued to convulse, although no one paid particular attention to him. After a few seconds, he finally stopped, and leaned against the wall trying to steady himself. He did not gasp or wheeze, but just stood there, straining quietly to stay above the ground. With an apparent pain, the blue man slowly and awkwardly turned his head around to look at the train.

A middle-aged man​

, wearing glasses, an orange suit, and a beard, emerged from the train.

 

[atomicmonkey]

wow i need to get indents to work... how do you indent?

 

[atomicmonkey]

Chapter One, Section Two: "Men in Blue Suits"

AtomicMonkey notes:

Spoiler

The giro man (known as the D-man) is threatened by Gordon, runs into the real G-man, and is sent to escalator hell for his insolence (ugh it sounds truly weird writtien as a synopsis)

The blue man's eyes stared at this new arrival, and then​

suddenly seemed to lose focus, looking past the bearded man. He seemed to be thinking; he did not move for a moment, not even to look at his sandwiches on the ground. Then his head jerked back in recognition.
Gordon Freeman is arriving at Refuge Station at 12 o'clock, during the third shift.

He remembered his orders now. He was supposed to change his​

shift to fourth: he was not supposed to be here today.

As the blue man was realizing all of this, Dr. Freeman had​

stumbled out of the train. He seemed dazed: even in the dim light of the station, he had to shield his eyes. He nearly tripped over a bottle, sending it careening onto the tracks, which discharged some of its energy and shattered the bottle into pieces. Freeman silently cursed, but watching the bottle roll across the station, he finally seemed to realize where he was. He instantly became taut, and stood straight, looking around quickly. He immediately saw five potential weapons; there didn't appear to be any apparent threats in the station; and then he saw the blue man.

Fear was briefly on Freeman's face, fear of the memories of his​

exodus from the Citadel. The fear was brief, however, and rage quickly overcame Freeman's face. He began to push violently through the crowd in the subway toward the blue man. As he got to the sandwich shop, he burst through the stream of people like an animal, focused only on the blue man. He grabbed a broken bottle from the ground and moved against the wall so he could avoid the pushing crowd, which was totally ignorant of what was happening in the station. The blue man backed away from Freeman, holding up his hands, and and as his passed the corner he blindly collided into a man coming from the escalators. To the blue man's surprise-although the expression was ineffable behind his gaunt face-Freeman stopped still, staring in amazement at the man past him.

He looked behind him. He had run into a pale man in a blue suit;​

the two men were totally identical. As when he had seen Dr. Freeman, the blue man with the sandwiches seemed to be thinking about this unusual encounter, then jerked in recognition and began convulsing. However, this time it took twice as long to calm his body. After nearly a minute he stopped, and leaned against the wall weakly. He made an attempt at composure, stood on his shaky legs, and slowly stuttered, "Hello, version G."

The G-man frowned at the word "version", as if being​

called "version" could cause his already dour face to worsen. The G-man nodded brusquely, and said, "Hello, D. You are not supposed to be here, so I presume you are leaving." The D-man, averting his eyes from G, turned, picked his sandwiches up from the ground, and walked past the G-man and toward the escalators, picking up speed to get away as quickly as possible. However, at the last moment, the escalators stopped-this time surprise was clear on the D-man's face-and reversed direction, going down. He whipped his head towards the G-man, his surprise frozen on his face as if he were a doll. "You weren't supposed to be here during the third shift," said the G-man simply. Convulsions rippled across the D-man's face, and he turned and stepped onto the lower escalator. As he descended into the darkness, he finally seemed to be resigned to his fate, and calmly stood straight and composed. He disappeared from view, and a red flash was all that could be seen of his departure.

I truly hate indenting.

 

[atomicmonkey]

Chapter One, Section Three: "Welcome"

AtomicMonkey notes:

Spoiler

Truly the highlight of my fanfic, you shouldnt read the notes on this one. After all, in the conclusion of chapter one Gordon fights the G-man, is brought into the Seraphim project, and you get to see headcrab zombies drinking lattes and reading the newspaper!!! WHEEEE!!!

No more &^%@ indents!

The G-man watched the escalators for a moment, scowling at the thought of his "predecessor's" carelessness. Then he twitched and convulsed in recognition of something, less than D but still noticeably. His lips turned upward into a sneer, and he turned toward Dr. Freeman.

Freeman had lost his strength from this spectacle, and was leaning against the wall much like the D-man had. "Dr. Freeman," the G-man said in a surprisingly elegant tone, "Welcome to our side. It took some time on our part, and some pains on yours, but now my employers are convinced of your potential." Freeman stood away from the wall when the G-man said "time", his face darkening with anger once again. He raised his hand, preparing to strike the G-man with the broken bottle he had held tightly to. He was an instant from slaying the man he hated above all the horrors he had seen. He swung the bottle; the G-man stood still, sneering.

A green flash blinded Freeman. In his subconscious, Freeman wondered sardonically where he had just been transported. But to his surprise, the G-man and he were still in the station. However, the station was totally empty. Everything and everyone had disappeared, including the broken bottle; Freeman's empty hand whizzed inches from the G-man's face, and losing his balance, Freeman fell to the ground ingloriously. His ears rung from the impact, screeching in his head. He was amazed at how hard he had hit the ground, to put such a loud roar in his head. But then he realized the sound wasn't his ears. A train was coming. The screech of the train was even louder in the emptiness of the station as it once again exploded from the steam and settled into the station.

"Now Boarding: H-Line to Guardian District"

The G-man's sneer grew as Freeman frantically climbed to his feet. "That our train. Let's hurry on," the G-man said. Freeman stared at the G-man in disbelief; he realized why the other man in the suit had submitted so readily to the G-man's power. There was no way he could escape the subway: the sandwich store had been locked when the flash happened; the elevator was locked, and Freeman had a feeling he didn't want to ride the escalators to some final fate. So slowly, he got on.

However, if the doors hadn't closed so fast, Freeman would have jumped right back off the train: it was full of headcrab zombies. He pressed himself against the doors, raising his hands to block any attack. But there was no attack. The zombies just sat in the seats. Freeman noticed they all had clean, pressed suits on, with shined shoes and watches and all the decorum of the average business man. Some were reading newspapers; others were lifting themselves of the neck of their host, exposing the grotesque human face of its victim so it could pour coffee into into the disfigured but functional mouth. Freeman was unable to speak, but the look he gave the G-man sufficiently communicated, "What the heck?!?" The G-man seemed to be relishing in Freeman's amazement so far. "Isn't it amazing what a little time can do? " he said with a laugh, totally uncharacteristic of his usually fractured speech. "In the time it takes for this train to reach its destination, we could teach these creatures to do what you do, what Vance and Kleiner do, what I do. However, I think my employers were correct in taking their time to cultivate a zombie like you, one of the countless human scientists working pointlessly towards a brand of destruction not unlike that of these xenofauna."

A few zombies looked up, gave the highly pitched equivalent of an irritated grunt to the G-man, and haughtily turned back to their papers and phones. The train began to move forward, grinding the rails. It accelerated and left the station, entering a dark tunnel.

"Time is what makes greatness both grow and crumble. For example, we wouldn't have to be here among these workers, your former enemies, if I had my suitcase; we could have instantly traveled to our destination, placed a large weapon in your hand, and sent you to merrily romp through a war zone, letting you destroy our enemies with your usual, hmm, 'tact'. But my suitcase drains my power, and consequently my voice. And I wanted to be grand, poetic, legendary when I gave you this message from my employers..."
The train had been accelerating since its departure, and now was traveling at a tremendous speed. Freeman couldn't tell how fast they were moving through the dark, but he surmised it was faster than he had ever traveled. He looked at the G-man, who stretched his arms up dramatically, facing the direction they were travelling. Suddenly, another green flash filled Freeman's vision. However, this flash came from outside the windows. The train had left the tunnels, and was now traveling on a rail underneath...

Freeman slumped to the floor.

The train, the subway, a whole city of buildings was built underneath a humongous organic platform. They were under one of the purple pods of Xen.

As the alien light of Xen diffused into the train, the G-man's sneer turned into a grim smile. "Welcome to the Seraphim Project, Dr. Freeman," he said. "You have been designated 'Arbiter G', free to do whatever you want, with all the time you care to have."
From the floor, Freeman looked up. What does he mean, Arbiter G? Why that letter? The G-man kneeled on one knee, and said with another sneer," Now that the time for great introductions has passed, what do you want to do now, boss?"

 

[atomicmonkey]

End Of Chapter One.

 

[eatbugs]

whoohp

 

[TwistedUranium]

Coolbeans