DEATH eVADER
Space Core
- Joined
- Nov 10, 2003
- Messages
- 8,142
- Reaction score
- 19
Finally, Freeman reaches the core of what once stood the centre of city17. Now a twisted, and surreal network of hallways, it only contained extruding power cables, and illuminated pipelines, that feeds the citadels energy. All hallways lead to a central room, but this room is different.
A white, and sterile environment, it contained a small, grey marble orb, which stands on a pedestal in the direct centre. In all respects different from the dark and rusted hallways that engulfed most of the monolithic citadel, it was obvious what this room was used for. Something was unusual about this calm place that had turned out to be a teleporter, as if an unknown force was monitoring Freeman.
The marble orb starts to emit a vibrant hum, and starts to spin clockwise a few metres in the warm and ionized air. Electrical discharges strike the orb from four, distinguishable power modules. Freeman takes several steps back and raises his gravity manipulator to chest height. After fifteen years of fighting, you would think that he would be use to any encounter that he would be faced with, but still his hands were shaking like he had caught hypothermia, and sweat made its way through the hairs, which make up our hero’s beard. However, he managed to take a deep breathe, and clenched his gun firmly, because a gut feeling told him that this would be a turning point in the Combine war.
The ever so majestic Alyx had just caught up with Freeman by sliding down a ladder that appeared in a little alcove. Alyx was relieved that she was able to catch up with Gordon, until she realised something. Alyx started to run, screaming and shouting along one of the corridors, as she had caught glimpse of the sterile room in utter chaos, with bolts of electricity jumping and bouncing, as if it had a child’s mind. Before she would be able to make it to the teleporter, freeman used his manipulator to fling her back. She crashed down to the ground, but continued to slide along the polished floor, until her body came to a sudden, and bone breaking stop against a wall, causing a fracture to her hip and creating a gigantic gash along one of her arms, that she had slid upon. The sudden force made her weak, she could barely move. Freeman used this to his advantage, giving him time to close all access to the room.
As the last door was completely sealed, the energetic electrical force, which had once engulfed the room, ceased. Freeman turned away from the computer console that he had used to shut the door, and focused his dreary eyes into the centre of the room. The orb and pedestal had now been replaced by what appeared to be, a five-foot creature. It looked identical to all its other counterparts, nano-woven suit, evil looking, pressurised helmet, but there is one thing that stands out. There were two armbands that appeared on any typical combine soldiers, one on the left arm, which contained the number of the city that they were stationed in. The other armband on the right arm, however, contained some odd alien insignia. This creature, on the other hand, had no armbands. Instead, it had some unusual text on its chest mounted body armour.
Suddenly, gas started to vent from the creatures helmet. The front face panel was ejected from the rest of the helmet by a seemingly strong force. Freeman could not believe his eyes. Freeman was now face to face with a humanoid creature, which he believed had started this war. It was definitely human, but it was barely recognisable. There were too many scares, face tissue was considerably burnt, and what was left of any facial hair, was falling off. Freeman had seen this before, on a few survivors of the original Black Mesa incident. This looked like radiation sickness, and by judging the extent; the mutilated human had contracted this several years ago, when this war started.
The human looked at Freeman with a calm stare from its blood-shot eyes, and spoke with a pacific and feminine voice. Gasping for air, she spoke, “See…. must see!” and reached out her scared and blood-stricken hand. This was a familiar body gesture to Freeman. Freeman knelt down beside the Combines leader, and was shoved into a deep trance as the cold looking hand seemed to magnetised itself to Freeman’s head.
A bright white light seemed to engulf the sub-conscious of Gordon’s mind, then, slowly meld into a black and white image of what once was. He was given a bland image, an image of Combine soldiers falling in battle. This time however, they had no facemask, neither did they have helmets. They appeared to be as young as fifteen, with a glare from their dead eyes, and smoking burns from whatever fired at them. The image shifted upwards, overlooking the horizon, which seemed alien in nature, possibly an alternate Earth. Four shadowy figures appeared, getting closer and closer. These figures were dressed in grey camouflaged-uniforms, similar to the ones that dominated Black Mesa just hours after the ‘ground-zero’ incident.
Freeman had just realised that he was looking out of the eyes of the female leader when one of the marines turned to his superiors face. “What shall we do to her, Sir?” a mumbled voice mentioned. The sergeant replied with, “Any survivors that you can find send back to sector 118, and prepare them for transportation. The government wants to find out, how they would survive in a hostile environment. The dead, feed them to the Ants.” Struggling from the grasp of the marine, she was able to run a few metres, before the butt of one of the M-16’s knocked her out cold.
A low rumbling of the earth rudely interrupted this insanely real dream. “Now you know…help…join us.” Just before Freeman was able to make up his mind, a blue-suited figure transported in, and grabbed hold of Gordon. “Don’t be tempted Freeman, it is an empath, it will only show you what you want to see. We-e need to get out of here, the building is about to go.” As suddenly as he transported inside, Mr Germaine disappeared, along with Freeman.
A white, and sterile environment, it contained a small, grey marble orb, which stands on a pedestal in the direct centre. In all respects different from the dark and rusted hallways that engulfed most of the monolithic citadel, it was obvious what this room was used for. Something was unusual about this calm place that had turned out to be a teleporter, as if an unknown force was monitoring Freeman.
The marble orb starts to emit a vibrant hum, and starts to spin clockwise a few metres in the warm and ionized air. Electrical discharges strike the orb from four, distinguishable power modules. Freeman takes several steps back and raises his gravity manipulator to chest height. After fifteen years of fighting, you would think that he would be use to any encounter that he would be faced with, but still his hands were shaking like he had caught hypothermia, and sweat made its way through the hairs, which make up our hero’s beard. However, he managed to take a deep breathe, and clenched his gun firmly, because a gut feeling told him that this would be a turning point in the Combine war.
The ever so majestic Alyx had just caught up with Freeman by sliding down a ladder that appeared in a little alcove. Alyx was relieved that she was able to catch up with Gordon, until she realised something. Alyx started to run, screaming and shouting along one of the corridors, as she had caught glimpse of the sterile room in utter chaos, with bolts of electricity jumping and bouncing, as if it had a child’s mind. Before she would be able to make it to the teleporter, freeman used his manipulator to fling her back. She crashed down to the ground, but continued to slide along the polished floor, until her body came to a sudden, and bone breaking stop against a wall, causing a fracture to her hip and creating a gigantic gash along one of her arms, that she had slid upon. The sudden force made her weak, she could barely move. Freeman used this to his advantage, giving him time to close all access to the room.
As the last door was completely sealed, the energetic electrical force, which had once engulfed the room, ceased. Freeman turned away from the computer console that he had used to shut the door, and focused his dreary eyes into the centre of the room. The orb and pedestal had now been replaced by what appeared to be, a five-foot creature. It looked identical to all its other counterparts, nano-woven suit, evil looking, pressurised helmet, but there is one thing that stands out. There were two armbands that appeared on any typical combine soldiers, one on the left arm, which contained the number of the city that they were stationed in. The other armband on the right arm, however, contained some odd alien insignia. This creature, on the other hand, had no armbands. Instead, it had some unusual text on its chest mounted body armour.
Suddenly, gas started to vent from the creatures helmet. The front face panel was ejected from the rest of the helmet by a seemingly strong force. Freeman could not believe his eyes. Freeman was now face to face with a humanoid creature, which he believed had started this war. It was definitely human, but it was barely recognisable. There were too many scares, face tissue was considerably burnt, and what was left of any facial hair, was falling off. Freeman had seen this before, on a few survivors of the original Black Mesa incident. This looked like radiation sickness, and by judging the extent; the mutilated human had contracted this several years ago, when this war started.
The human looked at Freeman with a calm stare from its blood-shot eyes, and spoke with a pacific and feminine voice. Gasping for air, she spoke, “See…. must see!” and reached out her scared and blood-stricken hand. This was a familiar body gesture to Freeman. Freeman knelt down beside the Combines leader, and was shoved into a deep trance as the cold looking hand seemed to magnetised itself to Freeman’s head.
A bright white light seemed to engulf the sub-conscious of Gordon’s mind, then, slowly meld into a black and white image of what once was. He was given a bland image, an image of Combine soldiers falling in battle. This time however, they had no facemask, neither did they have helmets. They appeared to be as young as fifteen, with a glare from their dead eyes, and smoking burns from whatever fired at them. The image shifted upwards, overlooking the horizon, which seemed alien in nature, possibly an alternate Earth. Four shadowy figures appeared, getting closer and closer. These figures were dressed in grey camouflaged-uniforms, similar to the ones that dominated Black Mesa just hours after the ‘ground-zero’ incident.
Freeman had just realised that he was looking out of the eyes of the female leader when one of the marines turned to his superiors face. “What shall we do to her, Sir?” a mumbled voice mentioned. The sergeant replied with, “Any survivors that you can find send back to sector 118, and prepare them for transportation. The government wants to find out, how they would survive in a hostile environment. The dead, feed them to the Ants.” Struggling from the grasp of the marine, she was able to run a few metres, before the butt of one of the M-16’s knocked her out cold.
A low rumbling of the earth rudely interrupted this insanely real dream. “Now you know…help…join us.” Just before Freeman was able to make up his mind, a blue-suited figure transported in, and grabbed hold of Gordon. “Don’t be tempted Freeman, it is an empath, it will only show you what you want to see. We-e need to get out of here, the building is about to go.” As suddenly as he transported inside, Mr Germaine disappeared, along with Freeman.
