Join us in the freshly updated Big Team Battle playlist for our #OperationForerunner Community Playdate tomorrow at 11AM PT!
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đŽ YouTube
Halo Infinite
Community Playdate
Join us in the freshly updated Big Team Battle playlist for our #OperationForerunner Community Playdate tomorrow at 11AM PT!
đŁ Twitch
đŽ YouTube
April Big Team Battle Refresh
Extraction
Not seen since Halo 4, Multi-Site Extraction lands on the (big) battlefield. With a win condition of âfirst to 7 extractions,â you and your team will want to have a plan in place.
Cover one zone and go 1:1 with the opposing team? Or battle for both? The choice is yours but be ready to move swiftly to snag the zones from your enemies. Each extraction is worth 1 point so just get 7 and you win. Thatâs probably easier said than done but you got this. I believe in you!
Assault
By now you know the drill. Grab your bomb, load up a vehicle for optimal shenanigans, and full steam ahead into the enemy base to arm the bomb. Or, in the case of One Bomb, youâll need to be prepared to swap between offense and defense as you take turns attacking and repelling the enemy.
Battlegrounds
Coming alongside the new modes are a few new battlefields for you to enjoy. Revel in their g(l)ory and majesty.
Flood Gulch
Bookmark
These hallowed grounds absolutely ooze with familiarity. Watch your step.
Credence
Credits: Zaddy Hammer
Bookmark
This hauntingly beautiful forest of ruins will have you standing on the edge of eternity, looking out over the vast expanse below you, contemplating why weâre even here.
Dawnbreaker
Credits: Anvil Prime 52, Galaxytivity, Cousin Tim, I Crush All, Draius
Bookmark
As the day breaks, you will need to be on the lookout for all types of assaults as this map has it all. Fabulous footpaths for infantry and open spaces for vehicles to careen through â anything goes.
Threshold
Credits: Squally DaBeanz, Kat Rat A Tat, NightAvenger01
Bookmark
The installation survives while the fire burns below. Break left or right when leaving your base unless you think you can make the leap across the gap without falling to the pit below.
This BTB refresh will knock your socks off with the explosive new content so pack a spare pair on your way to the battlefield. Weâll see you there!
Forge Features
This Forge Feature collects sprawling estates, highway chases, biome-swapped remakes, and arenas from across the known universe. After seeing the Forgersâ handiwork, weâve got to ask: is there anything you canât build in Forge?
Uchiha Estate
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Credits: Galaxytivity, Le Frenchys, Saber, vL3GO, Kordaak, Smileus, Ampoligy, Premiery, Vibrant, hvmmie, Typhoonsy, Animosity, B0ARD, Sai Ryku, Befi, Disciple, Shots Fatal, OOOHGIE, Minds Evil, Mikasa, Levi, Jalen Cortez, Lea SIV, Splenzo, Wither TTG, Malccolo
A sprawling estate for an esteemed ninja family. The serene surroundings of the valley boast lush gardens, cherry blossoms, and roaring waterfalls. Should enemies stroll past the scenery and penetrate the outer wall, try taking gravity lifts into the watchtowers to defend the courtyard.
Worthwhile
Bookmark
Credits: The Xzamplez, Lahont, Level Design, NightAvenger01, th3jmanx, ARC1T3CTZ, InfiniteForges, Death Penalty, facingbowls, Sqeazu, IKYLEIZBEASTLY, CertifiedChamp, HeIIjumper 1357, Soulful Soul, Tedonator, Xscape, Undeni4ble, purely fat, HaloBoxStudios, Epik Xero, Black Picture, bullet2thehead9, Status CROW, I Crush All, tdubfed1
Slay your opponents within the enameled halls of a massive shipbuilding facility. With excellent combat flow between its multicolored rooms and carefully applied details in every corner, Worthwhile certainly lives up to its name.
Surazal
Bookmarks: Map | Mode
Credits: ForgeLudward, Juturna2jz, ColtyChoas
If youâve tangled with the cityscapes of âNew Alexandria 2552â or âLazarus,â youâll instantly recognize the low roofs and terraces of Surazal, now transplanted in the heat of Old Mombasa. This dense city map supports Slayer, BTB, and Firefight, with a custom boss-wave Firefight mode.
Guardlock
Bookmarks: Blue | Green
Credits: THE CUJ0, BlundellMemes77, Lil Breezy4086, DrShaboingry, PTB Bucky6200
A tribute to Lockout (Halo 2) and Guardian (Halo 3), Guardlock is a hybrid map that presents an etude in asymmetrical catwalks and rooms of death. Borrowing inspiration and elements from its twin namesakes, this map is also available in both âfrigid mountainâ and âsweltering treetopâ aesthetics. Call it âvariations on a Forge.â
Planetoid
Bookmark
Credits: ForgeLudward, Juturna2jz
A testament to slayer fundamentals. Set in a suspended platform drilled into the titular planetoid, this map is perfect for those who love spraying shotties around corners, teleporter escapes, and scoring headshots from the open gangways. Try a cozy rendezvous among the stars with teams of two to four.
Lake Hot Pursuit
Bookmarks: Map | Mode
Credits: AversiveSphinx, Dovahk666, TyRant Hacker
A lakeside circuit built for cops-and-robbers Infection modes. A team of Infected must use Razorbacks to pursue runaway Survivors on Mongooses. Use your all-terrain superiority to lay down the law before time runs out, or else the bandits get away. Nothing but open road between you and cold justice.
Cruise or Lose
Bookmarks: Map | Mode
Credits: Horse Choker297, Dolbywonder, LOVEWOLFE, Kr1spyTurtle, Lucidmocs, Bamstertwo86, egg boy 26
An Infection variant with an existential need for speed. Infected players enjoy a virulent strain of endless Active Camo, inexhaustible Gravity Hammers, and monstrous ups. With precious few seconds to mount up before the Infected team teleports in, Survivors canât afford to spin wheels. Get your âgoose and cruise!
Tutorial: Campaign Weapon Variants
Zechariot shows Forgers how to build a custom node graph to upgrade your currently held weapon to a variant from the Halo Infinite campaign. Check it out below:
Stay tuned for another Forge Feature coming soon! To share your creations with the Halo Infinite community team, be sure to drop a link in the #forge-show-and-tell channel of our official Discord or post to r/Halo using the Forge tag.
Weâre also still looking for inspired Invasion maps to consider for future Recommends playlists. If youâve got a great Invasion map youâd like us to see, be sure to use tag #343asks-invasion on your Forge creation before June 20.
Halo: Tulpamancy
Halo: Tulpamancy is available here, on Halo Waypoint, as a free PDF, and in audiobook format on YouTube.
Historian's Note
Halo: Tulpamancy takes place in April 2560, approximately four months after the disappearance of Zeta Halo.
CLASSIFICATION: PRIORITY ONE ALPHA
OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE
PROJECT: ARC DREAM
//ARCHEOHOMINA
//FROM: Codename: PANGAEA
//TO: Codename: YUGA
ATTACHMENTS:
[table]
[tr]
[td]Archeohomina: An Introduction[/td]
[td]âGuide to Protogenic Civilizationsâ by K. Iyuska[/td]
[td]âSanâShyuum: Past, Present, Future?â by C. Lux[/td]
[/tr]
[tr]
[td]Requiem Terminal Dialogues, recovered by S-117[/td]
[td]Bornstellar Relation Transcript Excerpts[/td]
[td]ONI Xeno-Materials Exploitation Report 15Y1198[/td]
[/tr]
[/table]
They say that the key to the future lies in our past.
Given everything weâve learned in recent years Iâm inclined to give credence to the notion.
Research in this field is still in its infancy, of course, and our resources are extraordinarily limitedâespecially given the present state of the galaxy. But we are already making great strides towards learning more about who we once were.
The summarized version: This is not humanityâs first go-around as a space faring civilization. We were, in fact, a contemporary and rival of the Forerunners over a hundred millennia ago.
These Ancestors of ours moved their empire towards the galactic margin, inhabiting presently unexplored areas of space, which accounts for why we have thus far discovered only a scant few traces of their existenceâalso accounting for the cultural and genetic reduction that the Forerunners imposed after their war against these humans was won.
Key to our current research is the discovery at Site Yankee-002-G3. A lone Ancestor ship, fully intact. While the modern incarnation of our kind were still huddled in caves, this vessel drifted silently through space⊠just waiting to be found.
A few dozen researchers have been aboard. Iâve got them in rotating shifts. The control group are given just eight hours to access the ship and conduct their analyses before a thirty-six hour âcooldownâ period, during which time the other teams are cycled in to operate. It should be noted that this rhythm weâve put in place goes beyond the standard notion of healthy respite; the ship itself seems to have strange effects on the researchers after prolonged exposure to it. The exact nature of the correlation between duration and influence is something weâve still yet to determine.
I have attached some of the incident reports for your perusal, and I am sure you will agree that this is currently the most prudent course of action. We must balance further encouragement of these odd developments with our capacity to continue standard research.
I will follow up soon as further developments come to light.
INCIDENT REPORT 003
FILED BY: 01736-19013-SN
I know we work long hours, but Iâm concerned about Jackson. He looks like heâs sleepwalking half the time, he moves like none of the rest of us are even thereâhe keeps bumping into me while muttering under his breath. Managed to listen in one time and heâs just saying all of our names over and over again. What the hell is that about?
INCIDENT REPORT 008
FILED BY: 02961-30002-DS
I reprimanded Horne earlier today for ignoring his duties. Weâve got a tight timeline to work with while aboard this ship and I caught him skulking around, saying he was trying to find the source of a hum that kept moving whenever he got close to it. I donât hear any hum, heâs either messing me about or heâs in need of a psychological evaluation.
INCIDENT REPORT 012
FILED BY: 05126-89937-PH
Asked Jerry what was on his to-do list today when he said he was watching the walls. I said, What? Whatâs that supposed to mean? He said he sees things moving in them. Shadows. I said itâs probably just the rest of our team in the room getting set up. He said no, there are too many.
INCIDENT REPORT 013
FILED BY: 01948-20112-NM
Ever since we found that suit apparatus that we adapted into Project ENOCH, Hudson has gone completely non-verbalâhe just presses his lips together like heâs trying to whistle but doesnât make a sound. Iâm concerned about the null state stasis containers as well. An eclectic variety of objects not accounted for by our inventory have been brought aboard. Holloway swears she saw Hudson laying out his morbid collection of alien bones on the floor, as if it was some kind of ritualistic offering, but when she got another pair of eyes over there they had gone without a trace. I really need some shore leaveâŠ
INCIDENT REPORT 015
FILED BY: 09136-77903-JF
Had the strangest conversation with Nicholas today and Iâm not sure what to make of it. He started talking about his wife back homeâstrange, of course, because as far as I know he lost his family back on Kholo. But he was recounting his wedding day when suddenly I realized that he was describing my wedding day. Red wine all over my wifeâs dress as we took a tumble during the first dance. He described the incident exactly as I remember it, as I lived it. But that was five years agoâIâve only known him for two. He froze up when I told him that was what happened to me and hasnât spoken to me since.
INCIDENT REPORT 016
FILED BY: 03417-31813-TC
Earl reported that heâs been having strange dreams lately. He said that he wakes up on the ship and nobody else is there, except for Spartan Niles, who just stands stillâfully armoredâand keeps asking a question in a voice that isnât his. I asked Earl what the question was and he just went pale, refused to say anything more after that. Something weird is happening on this ship, manâŠ
CHIRAL INVOCATION
I am the dreamer. That is what she tells me.
She says that we only dream about what is already within us. I dream of her, and yet we have never met. Perhaps she is the dreamer, and I am the dream⊠I do not know.
She asks me, is it the future, or is it the past? Then she decides that it does not matter. It is nowâand now will never be again.
The klaxon blares to signify the end of our shift. She does not want me to go, so I have found a hiding place. I will go there and disappear, and when the others learn that one of their number is missing they will delay the next shift until I am found. Until they decide to send others aboard, I will have the ship all to myself.
See you soon, dream/dreamer.
Once the others are all gone, I emerge and begin to peruse the ship. We have not yet gained access to the entirety of this cruiserâit is over six thousand meters in length and many sections have been sealed, remaining undisturbed for countless millennia.
I approach a large bulkhead door that we have been unable to breach and await her instructions.
I can feel her stirring in my mind. Sometimes it takes effort to draw her out, like finding someone in a haze of mist. She is as elusive as a half-remembered dream, not yet whole, but she is always there. Perhaps she feels a similar frustration towards me, as if I am a distant shore only faintly visible on the horizon that she cannot reach. But the longer I am here, aboard this ship, the closer we draw together.
Today, she will reach the shore.
She says she has things to show me. Things old and forgotten, long buried and longer lost. They did not happen here, they happened far away in another place, but we must make do. This will be the canvas on which she paints.
I stand by the door and close my eyes, willing my conscious mind to ease and make space for herâanother mind, another self.
Distantly, I am aware of raising a device to my mouth. The fruits of Project ENOCH. And oh, what a gift, this peculiar apparatus that I both do and do not understand.
The ancient suits of armor we discovered had these devices beneath the helmet, meant to be affixed to the wearerâs jaw. It made no sense, and yet I saw the sense in it. No ordinary words could be heard, and yet the whistles and clicks that burst through in translation were words to me, as sweet as music. It was a language I almost felt like I could recognize, familiar in the way she is familiar.
Not all have been so lucky to hear the music, the words, and yet I am not alone.
I am not alone.
Ah, there she is. This old machine must surely serve as some kind of guiding beacon for her, or a favorable wind that speeds her towards the shore where I await her deliverance.
My mouth speaks at her behest, spouting old words filtered through the mask.
Faint lines of energy course through the walls around me, feeding into the door which creaks and groans, straining in its old age after a dark and dreamless sleep⊠and then it opens, granting me passage beyond.
I feel a chemical rush within my body. She is pleased by this development, and I am eager to discover what she wishes to reveal to me.
The room beyond is pitch black and there is a chill in the air, but I cross the threshold as if returning to a place I know as home.
The first of our shared dreams then begins to coalesce.
A blueish light shines through, forming into a cylindrical shape that flows upwards like a reverse waterfall. Within, a shadow takes formâa humanoid figure clad in armor, immobilized within a confinement field. I draw closer and strain to make out further details, but my efforts are rebuffed as eyes squinting in the dark before theyâve adjusted.
Other shadowy figures begin to take shape, illuminated by the light of the confinement field. Were they standing still, they might have been mistaken as statues. These offer more detail, and I see that the armor covering them from head to toe has no noticeable separation, its angular plating all appears fused together. There is no âhelmetâ either, the armor around the head slants forward where it breaks away into a triangular shape, within which a single âeyeâ shines through.
âThe actions of your kind are an affront to the Mantle,â one of the shadowy armored figures speaks in a high, imperious voice. âYour reckless expansion has devastated ecosystems, displaced populations, and now you resort to razing entire worlds.â
I feel the embers of old hatred rekindled within me. She wishes me to see this, to share in her righteous anger.
âYour commanders have seen the logs I willingly shared,â she says, her voice bold and proud, undaunted by her captivity. âThey have seen the Shaping Sickness for themselves. It still resides within this system, and if you do not release me at once and assist in burning it from existence, it will consume us all!â
âThreats will not serve you, human.â The statuesque armored being responds. âThere is a great deal of uncertainty about your claims. Many believe this âShaping Sicknessâ is simply a bioweapon unleashed by your kind, accidentally or otherwise, turned to your advantage as the perfect excuse to expand your empire from the galactic fringesâburning worlds and their civilizations to later resettle them.â
âYou are a fool,â she spits with deep contempt, and so too does my mouth move to form the words. âHear me now, Forerunner. If you impede my people, the Shaping Sickness will come for your kind, and when it does you will treat it as you do everything elseâas something you can study and control.â I feel the venom in her voice recede for a moment as she leans forward and whispers in fear. âYou cannot. This parasite is no simple creature of instinct. Its hunger serves a greater desire, a purpose we do notâcannotâknow. It can only be met with one answer: annihilation.â
Her words hang in the air for a moment, during which time the Forerunner figures remain silentâthe intelligences within their alloyed second skins no doubt verifying that her words are truthful.
Yet still they will not listen, will not see. We have been enemies for too long, judged heretical for our own claim to the Mantle. Truth may come later; the possibility of removing another rival is too compelling for them at this time.
âBy the time your people come to the same conclusion as mine,â she grits her teeth, leaning back within the confinement field, âit will be too late for us all.â
The dream fades and her closing words echo, either through the ship or through my own mind.
For us allâŠ
I felt my legs shake uncontrollably, causing me to fall to the ground. Bringing her to the fore and surrendering control through deep concentration comes, it seems, at an immense physical cost.
My understanding is that she is a tulpa. She is mind-made, thought given form, living somewhere deep within my subconscious. Simply being here on this ship has been akin to conducting lightning through a rod. She is neither an alter ego nor a doppelgĂ€nger; she is not an assemblage of thoughts given the illusion of coherency and sapience, nor the product of an unwell mind. She was real once, I believe. Flesh and blood. But something happened to our species a long time ago which turned her and many others like her into a graftâa layer of slumbering consciousness that lives within us.
Among my fellow researchers, all of whom have manifested different conditions to varying degrees while aboard this vessel, she is the first and thus far only person to have taken shape.
I lie on the ground for⊠minutes? An hour? I am uncertain. I contemplate withdrawing for now to recuperate and process what I have just seen, but she is reluctant.
This is nowâand now will never be again.
Drawing on whatever reserves of strength I possess, I stand and shuffle forwards into the dark. There is more yet to see.
We press on. Whatever area of the ship she helped me to breach is of little interest to her. Her mind is set on the bridge, and she assures me thatâjudging by our egress pointâwe are not far.
Despite my instinct to put my hands out in front of me to feel my way through a completely unfamiliar place in total darkness, I soon find myself walking with confidence.
Suddenly, the entire ship rumbles and shakes, as if it were the growling stomach of a creature with a ravenous appetite that had been starved for many long years.
Shadows draped themselves over the corridor through a thick haze of smoke and mist, settling into the half-formed image of bulbous pustules and fleshy growths. A rippling, writhing sea of skin poured out of the door behind me, transforming the corridor into a gullet. I looked up and saw several Forerunners trapped within, their silver-grey armor a stark contrast against the sickened flesh drawing them into the wall and ceiling as if to slowly digest them.
We are nothing, you and I. Nothing more than food.
This shall be the fate of all.
Two figures sprinted down the corridor, the Shaping Sickness closing in around them like a contracting muscle.
One was unmistakably Forerunner, clad in the strange all-encompassing armor with its single cyclopean eye. The other, I believe, was her, as these are surely her memories being played outâcaptured, interrogated, and disbelieved⊠now suddenly freed from the constraint field and holding a weapon.
The Forerunner spins around unbelievably fast, its right arm reconfigures into a rifle that fires precise rounds of ionized particles.
Next to the Forerunner, she is noticeably shorterâperhaps just under seven feet tall without her helmet. As she fires light mass ammunition from her own borrowed weapon, I catch only a few glimpses of her features. She is broad and strong with wide-set shoulders, leaving no doubt that she is a warrior. How remarkably like us our Ancestors were, yet with far greater morphological variation. With a slightly rounder and elongated head bearing wider-set features, her chin is approximately an inch shorter than the average for modern Homo sapiens, andwith a more pronounced dental arch. She appears closest perhaps to Denisovans, an extinct archaic subspecies in our time but vibrant and thriving in theirs.
I long to speak with her properly, to offer some kind of comfort. How agonizing and dysphoric it must feel to see herself as she was in these wretched and dire dreams.
I donât even know her name⊠she might have forgotten it too.
The only comfort I can offer is to see out her desires to the end. She wishes to reach the bridge of this ship; she wishes for me to see these visions of long ago, though I do not yet grasp their full meaning, if they have one. The Floodâwhat she calls the Shaping Sicknessâhas already been encountered in our time. Perhaps she fears they will prove a resurgent threat once again. Or maybe the trauma of her experience is so great that the last scatterings of her reforming consciousness are simply compelled to share it.
As the two figures faded, I reach the end of the corridor and begin to climb up a side-mounted ladder that would bring us to an antechamber before the bridge.
It is shockingly difficult to climb, my reserves of physical strength rapidly dwindling to nothing as I struggle up each rung. It has been many hours now since I last ate anything, and my throat is dry to the point of soreness. But there is no going back.
There are no lights to make out how much further I have to climb. My vision only allows me to see the next few rungs above me, but I am sure that it is getting colderâthat more open air is not far away.
I keep my mind trained on all that I have learned. I am curious about her mission, and feeling her momentarily rescind in my mind only makes me want to know more. I am only human, after allâthough we are over a hundred millennia removed from each other, curiosity is a trait she understands.
Surely it is a trait she would not now seek to avoid?
Arms shuddering in effort, I stop my climb, slumping against the metal as I refuse to go further.
It is an odd thing, to try to bargain with her, to coax an answer out of this wisp of a dream or memory. And when at last she relents, it is with my own lips that she answers, the words spoken into the ENOCH apparatus around my head.
We have come this far, let there be no secrets between us.
Rather than explain further, she conjures concepts and images from our shared subconscious.
A great wave surges over an ocean, reaching higher and higher until it crashes down upon a city. This was happening everywhere, across whole planetsâan inescapable deluge.
Recent history then surfaces: human and alien hands are shakenâa peace accord is struck.
A sphinx then appears. It bears a human head, the wings of a bird, the body of a lion, and the tail of a snake, but before it can ask a question it is transformed. Its head is drawn wide and flat as the face is burned away to reveal the skull beneath. The wings of the bird expand as if to take flight, then separate into segmented fractal parts; the lionâs haunches curl inwards, the serpent tail extends, and all turns into cold and dark alloy.
Energy builds at its center, then is destructively released, laying low the ruins of the city as the waters continue to climb towards the sphinxâs tailâŠ
She offers no further explanation, but I believe I understand.
This was a test. This was some kind of staged infiltration mission to determine the Forerunnersâ reaction to the bare truth of the Shaping Sickness, baiting the parasite to them so they could see it first-hand.
Satisfied with her answer, I resumed my climb and did not stop until I reached the summit.
It was colder up here. Staggering around the space, I found myself in some kind of antechamber, a room connected to several others. I wonder how the Ancestorsâ vessel layouts might echo our own, or if they built their ships in completely different ways.
But motes of light began to appear once more, and I knew that this wasâat least for nowâthe final dream she had to show me.
An immense support beam had collapsed on the Forerunner. And though he fired his weapon at the dark shades approaching from a hundred meters away, they did not relentâthese shambling abominations sensing that their prey had been backed into a corner. If anything, they seemed to slow their advance, as if to savor the fear.
My fear?
No. Forerunner fear.
My own weapon was spent, useful as nothing more than a cudgel. And though I looked frantically for a way out, no path presented itself to me.
We were trapped.
The stench was upon us now, the retching stink of blood and corpses hideously reshaped. Their heads lolled, necks had been disconnected from their spines, but the features of their faces were still recognizableâeternally frozen masks of horror and pain.
The Forerunner was still firing his weapon, still trying to fight.
And yet, not a moment later, we both heard it. The trigger mechanism making a pronounced click, click, click.
He too was out of ammunition.
I saw the monstrous form of his commander shuffle forwards. Slow. Terrible. Inevitable. One of his hands had been fused into the flesh of his stomach and a number of short, curved tendrils adorned his head like a sinewy crown.
It knelt down in front of the Forerunner, placing an immense gnarled hand upon himâŠ
I⊠I cannot describe what happened to him next.
It is beyond both my will and ability to recall.
I think the last thing the Forerunner saw was me⊠but whether he was confused or in some way vindicated, I will never know for sure.
I cannot deny that in the end his accusations seemed as if they were correct. The parasite had taken his entire crew, consumed everybody in this place, spared none of his kind.
But it did not take me.
CHRYSALISM
There will be no more dreams for a while. She arrived at the shore, showed meâno, imparted within meâsomething that had long been forgotten, which she had determined must be remembered, and now she returns to the ocean.
What sort of dreamer can I be without dreams?
What she showed me cannot remain a dream, it must be real. I am real, and I am to serve as a vessel for her pain, because that makes her real too. This I understand.
But I must temper this pain with hope, for there is one last thing for me to see. Something more tangible than a memory.
I have reached the bridge of the vessel now.
Weary though I am, I find myself on the lower level where several rows of terminals, monitors, and interface consoles are arranged. There is a table at the center, about ten meters long and three meters wide, and a dozen more terminals around it for what must have been a variety of different stations.
She guides me towards the long table and moves my lips to form clicks and whistles. An activation signal.
For a moment, everything remains cold and silent and still. There is just the labored sound of my breathing, echoing in this frigid tomb.
Perhaps it is all too far goneâŠ
I am sure that I hear a low hum emanating from the table a split second before a holograph sputters to life. Fractal formations of light fizz and buzz, attempting to resolve into coherent images as if they have forgotten how.
I feel the rising swell of excitement and joy, both hers and my own joined in tandem.
At that moment, the holographs take their intended form and resolve in a series of square-shaped boards with a variety of symbols and readouts, exploding outwards to fill the room. I look up to see a display of the local star system showing the orbital paths of three small planets and a dense asteroid field, as well as the Anlace-class frigate that delivered us to the system where this Ancestor vessel was found.
She moves my arms, raising them as if to begin conducting a symphony, and pulls the hologram back, expanding the view to other local star systems, then the Orion Arm, before settling on a yet more expansive view of spaces beyond.
And thatâs when I see it.
Thatâs when I understand.
Though our ancient Ancestors lost their war against the Forerunners and were subsequently punished with genetic reversion to a preindustrial state, the empire annihilated, and much evidence of our space-faring ages razed, there were many places that the Forerunners did not know of. Places they either could not or would not reach.
Our advantage lay in where we had expanded towards. Escaping the shadowed reach of their ecumene led us to the farthest systems of this part of the galaxy, pushing beyond the Perseus Arm and ever more towards the borders of intergalactic space.
Forerunners feared to tread there. It is as if some long-suppressed dread lives within their own genetic memory from ages past.
It will take longer than my remaining years to rediscover it all, but my goodness⊠there is so, so much more of us out there.
More than I ever imagined.
We carry their sparkâevery one of us. A fragment of another time, of other minds, just waiting to be dredged from the deep. One day, we might know them as we were meant to.
One day, they will reach the shore, and all shall sing once more the mantra of the broken wheel.
Daowa maadthu.
Husky Assault
Today, our dreams come true. Weâre mixing the bombastic chaos of Husky Raid with the strategy of tactical Assault. We call itâŠHusky Assault. (Betcha didnât see that coming.)
Assault on the Husky Raid
The linear and somewhat claustrophobic nature of Husky Raid makes for thrilling and exciting games of Capture the Flag. That action gets flipped head over heels with the introduction of Assault. Now youâll have to work together as a team to battle for the (neutral) bomb then escort your carrier to the base and allow them to plant the bomb⊠drive a wedge through the enemy lines, and try not to get left behind as the intensity of Husky Raid rages all around you.
A new map is also joining the pantheon of tried-and-true Husky Raids:
Warehouse
Credits: Karmaplex1283, ADSR7865
Bookmark
Get your grunge on â a certain pro skater would feel right at home in this warehouse skate park.
Husky Assault is there â what are you waiting for? Drop in and launch your assault on the enemy now!
Forge Features
Bookmark your favorites using the links below for your next custom game.
What mighty works the Forgers have wrought! Our latest helping of Forgified maps and modes includes a selection of excellent Slayer locales, hilarious minigames, and an iconic retail experience thatâs larger than life.
Monastery
Bookmark
Credits: the hairyman360
A high-stakes symmetrical map for settling ancient grudges. High in the jagged peaks of Sanghelios, the red and blue temples of an unnamed cult have been turned into bases for opposing factions. Furnished with ascetic sleeping quarters, imposing statuary, and the delicate tweets of songbirds, you could almost feel zen about getting rekt in a 4v4.
Island Base
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Credits: DoomedSquash023
Set at a UNSC outpost on a deserted isle, this map lays bare all approaches to scratch that beachhead itch. The exposed tropical surroundings revolve around a sleepy scanning station, whose lone open window is perfect for picking off attackers as they cower behind that Pelican on the tarmac.
Drillsite
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Credits: Silencer EU, Ix Rose, Dreamz AJC, BaconJace2330, Davidedes, ESlapshot43
A painstaking remake of The Rig from Halo 5, this map is a masterclass in forced confrontations. Open expanses, clear sightlines, and cloistered underpasses offer a glimpse into the hard and ever-changing realities of life on the rig. Nobody tell head office about those pitfalls between platformsâŠ
Iconic Retail Experience
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Credits: RayRayRoosta, jjfree1, FailedPuppet768, Hobo Baggins538, BurnsDemon, QuirklyLogic, Sparklymingo, SeerSpooky
They paved paradise and put up a parking lotâwith convenient access to highways, druidic ruins, eight lanes of cheerful checkouts, and near-infinite easter eggs inside a fully realized big-box store. This map is a love letter to the âiconic Americanâ retail experience, where excessive detail is matched only by its detailed excesses.
Try marauding through the sporting-goods section in a 10v10, or getting lost in the aisles during a game of hide and seek.
Hoba Hidden Valley
Bookmark: Map | Mode
Credits: JovialCentaur5
MOBA fans, rejoice! HOBA Hidden Valley pits you and your Grunt allies against a constantly spawning horde of foes in a roamable expanse filled with goodies. Your team earns points by dropping enemy Grunts or Spartans. First to 100 points wins the round, and the first team that wins three rounds claims victory.
If youâre brave enough, you can end the round instantly by assaulting the enemyâs AI-construct champion.
The Gravemind
Bookmark: Map | Mode
Credits: Starkey213036, DanZama22, ArturBloodshot
This is not your graveâprovided you can jump out of the way in time. This creepy-crawly and ludicrously fun mode by Forgers del Apocalipsis pits a team of âgoose riders against one massively mobile Gravemind. Use marking to leap the rampaging villain, and beware new obstacles dropped by the âmind himself.
Survive enough rapid heats, and you might live to write a poem about it.
Tutorial: Survive the Undead
Ever wanted to Forge your own undead survival mode? The Forge Falcons recently shared this in-depth video detailing how to recreate their fan-favorite Survive the Undead mode using a helpful starter canvas, with info for beginners as well as serious scripters.
Get the Forge template here.
Stay tuned for another Forge Feature coming soon! To share your creations with the Halo Infinite community team, be sure to drop a link in the #forge-show-and-tell channel of our official Discord or post to r/Halo using the Forge tag.
Weâre also still looking for inspired Invasion maps to consider for future Recommends playlists. If youâve got a great Invasion map youâd like us to see, be sure to use tag #343asks-invasion on your Forge creation before June 20.
Operation: Forerunner
Operation: Forerunner runs from April 8 through May 6. Unlock new Forerunner themed customization with your free 20 tier Operation Pass.
Jump into new playlist experiences and fight for the grace of the Mantle.
Halo: From the Soil to the Stars
Halo: From the Soil to the Stars is available here, on Halo Waypoint, as a free PDF, and in audiobook format on YouTube.
Historian's Note
Halo: From the Soil to the Stars takes place over September 19-21, 2559âapproximately three weeks before deployment to Reach for Operation: WOLFE.
DR. CATHERINE HALSEY, PERSONAL JOURNAL
ENCRYPTION CODE: GAWAIN
SUBJECT: MJOLNIR GEN3
For almost half a century, I have given everything I possibly can to my Spartans. The mind, body, and soul of myself and many others have been scraped away, bit by bit, in the pursuit of saving humanityâfirst from itself, then from the Covenant⊠and now, from the cascading fallout of innumerable intricate actions for which there are no end of consequences.
You are called upon once again to lead them over the threshold and into the darkness, to fight against impossible odds. And to win.
Youâve always been good at that, havenât you John?
To that end, I have something for you. Something you will need.
The Mjolnir exosuit is now complete.
Even though this technology will save humanity in the war to come, I must remind myself that liquid crystal cannot rise on its own. Titanium alloy cannot prevail in the face of extinction. Armor cannot hope.
It all means nothing, until you step inside.
KC-59, BXR MINING CORPORATION BASE CAMP
0600 HOURS // SEPTEMBER 19, 2559
The day began like any other.
Henrietta Varadi, along with more than two-dozen of her fellow miners, rolled out of the modest bunks in their subterranean sleeping quarters.
After waking herself up with a brisk shower, Varadi dried herself off, pulled on her BXR fatigues, and headed for the canteen. Same breakfast as ever: two slightly overcooked sausages, beans, mushrooms, and a slice of baconânot too crispy. An unsubtle wink at Jessica as she served up the food, a smile reserved just for her, and that became two slices of baconâa daily ritual they had both grown familiar with in recent weeks.
Varadi wolfed down her breakfast and returned to her bunk, picking up the book from the attached shelf: a gently used copy of Rendezvous with Ramen by the noted chef and food critic Arturo Bustamante. There were a spare fifteen minutes before her shift started and she had arrived at a particularly engrossing anecdote about the three days that Bustamante had spent in Rio de Janeiro visiting a Sangheili-owned establishment. Reading about the alien food was interesting, but the meals and recipes were more of a gateway into the personal stories of these strange refugees who had been given a home on Earth itself.
Alas, the klaxon sounded in short order, forcing her to put the book down a few pages short of her normal quota.
Varadi suited up into her OSTEO gear and met with her team by the imposing circular vault door that separated the baseâs living quarters and operations center from the mines. After an extensive period of checking pressure seals, internal systems, oxygen filters, and numerous other safety elements, the vault door was opened to reveal the vast cavern beyond.
KC-59âsimply nicknamed âCaseyâ by those who had set up shop on its surfaceâwas a largely desolate planet, but it contained something of immense value to the United Nations Space Command: extensive deposits of titanium.
As had been drilled into her and the rest of the crew from day one, titanium was the bread and butter of humanityâs interstellar civilian and military production.
âWhen you see the cavalry arrive over the hill in M808 MBTs, youâre lookinâ at a solid wall of titanium,â Varadi recalled Foreman Brine barking at them during her onboarding to the BXR Mining Corporation. âWhen a starshipâs battle plating protects you from the unforgiving vacuum of space and superheated plasma, you wonât be sendinâ thanks to any god of your choosing, youâll be addressinâ your tender heartfelt regards to titanium-A battle plating!â
Varadi had never expected to hear such a vocally emphatic history lesson about the various everyday uses of titanium and where it could be found. Brine had insisted that it was important they all show the appropriate knowledge and respect for atomic number twenty-two.
But the titanium that Varadi and her comrades were mining here wasnât going to be used for any of those things. Above Casey sat Perihelion Station, a Materials Group facility where the next generation of Mjolnir armor for the Spartans was being developed.
âYâknow what that means?â Foreman Brine had said after she and her fellow miners had been briefed by their Materials Group partners about the Casey job. âThis is the most important goddamn titanium youâll ever excavate.â
On that, at least, Varadi knew he was right. When a Spartan stepped onto the battlefield, they represented the culmination of a thousand lives that had built the ultimate weapon. Engineers and scientists who created the armor and augmentations, miners who provided the materials, technicians who kept the armor systems tuned for optimal efficiency and performanceâŠ
That was what it meant when folks said Spartans represent hope for humanity. It was not simply about the individual soldier, but the workâand, at times, the sacrifices madeâto deliver them to the fight.
Inspiring as it was, sometimes it all seemed so futile, that the sum total of humanityâs resolve in the battle for survival would one day cost them too much. Doubt forever seemed to loom over them as new threats arose, casting a long shadow, but Varadi knew she had a part to play.
Her dream would be waiting for her on that distant horizon after this was all over: a brighter future, she hoped, where she ran her own restaurant. Maybe with Jessica, if she liked the idea of leaving all of this behind to start a new lifeâRio certainly seemed like a good idea. And if things went really well⊠Varadi figured she could even send a personal invitation to Arturo Bustamante himself.
But until then, she would mine. Duty to humanity still ultimately compelled her, and to bring an end to these conflicts they would need no end of titanium.
UNSC AMICABLE DISAGREEMENT
1300 HOURS // SEPTEMBER 20, 2559
âSo, whatâs the deal with this Orca armor?â
âThatâs Orcus, Private Smith,â Gunnery Sergeant Babatunde corrected in a gruff tone, immediately clocking a smartass disguising their nerves. âAnd the Corps are eager to find out what hardass au naturel grunts like us can achieve with some new toys, starting with how well it holds up from a titanium coffin ride. So buckle up, troopers,â Babatundeâs voice boomed through the frigateâs deployment bay. âGet ready to drop!â
A chorus of âOo-rah!âs sounded off as half-a-dozen Orbital Drop Shock Troopers of the Ninth Platoon stepped off the grated gantry and secured themselves into their drop pods, all clad in semi-powered ORCUS exoskeletons.
Somebody somewhere in the chain of command had apparently taken umbrage with the idea of this armor being developed simply as a drop-in upgrade package for Spartans. Scuttlebutt was that ORCUS was being brought out of development limbo to be tested for more direct and specialized helljumper applicationsâstarting here.
âPFC NĂșñez,â the gunnery sergeant called out from his pod. âWould you be so kind as to describe to me the manner in which we will be deploying?â
âFeet first, sir!â Private First Class NĂșñez responded.
âYou afraid of heights, Private Smith?â
âNo, sir! Canât get enough of them, sir!â
âHow many drops is this for you, Private?â
âFâfirst one, sir.â Smithâs bravado receded a little and several of the other ODSTs let out knowing laughs.
âYou keep your breakfast, lunch, and dinner in that stomach of yours, soldier. We donât need you making any impromptu paint jobs over this shiny new armor or these cozy luxury pods, you hear me?â
âUnderstood, sir.â
The hatches of their pods closed, sealing each trooper inside. The frigateâs deployment bay floor then began to open, revealing a glimpse of the planet belowâKC-59.
âThe light is green,â the voice of one of Amicable Disagreementâs bridge officers sounded over their comms. âInitiating drop.â
âTen-four,â Gunnery Sergeant Babatunde confirmed as he appeared on one of the interior screens of NĂșñezâs pod. âExpress elevator to hell, going down!â
NĂșñez tried to steady their breathing, remembering the exercises they had been taught to keep calm and clear-headed during a drop.
But all of a sudden, the podâs three green status lights had already pitilessly counted down and the next thing NĂșñez knew the breath had been taken out of their chest as gravity assumed command of their entry vehicle.
The terrestrial surface of KC-59 now filled the podâs thin vertical viewport and NĂșñez focused their mind on the information readout of the planet.
Orbital period of seven-and-a-half Earth years⊠6519-kilometer radius⊠thirty-one Earth hour days⊠surface gravity of 1.1GâŠ
Vast expanses of rocky mountains covered the surface, but the mining craters were by far the most striking featureâtracts of concentric circles, surrounded by outposts and massive equipment arrays that were gradually becoming ever more visible. A central processing facility housed a skyhook that connected to Perihelion, the planetâs orbital station, while others played host to mass drivers that could send their cargo into orbit in a slightly more dramatic way.
âSmith, tighten up your approach vector, youâre drifting away from the group!â Gunnery Sergeant Babatunde ordered over the comm.
NĂșñez watched as Smith made a slight adjustment with the podâs directional control sticks, bringing him back on-course. He seemed to be keeping a level head for a first timer, managing to not overcorrect his movement inwards which would thereby risk a collision with other nearby pods.
âAlright everyone, time to pop your chutes.â
Five drag chutes bloomed into view only to instantly vanish from NĂșñezâs viewport as their own pod continued screaming towards the ground below.
Their command returned no response.
NĂșñez felt the rising swell of fear as their situation crystallized.
âSir, my chute isnât responding. Please advise.â
âKeep calm, NĂșñez,â Babatunde spoke with a reassuringly steady tone. âHit your retro thrusters now to slow your descent. Should buy you a little extra time as we work this out.â
NĂșñez hit a button on their seat armâs control panel and allowed a momentary sensation of relief at the immediate feedback, jerking the pod upwards.
It took effort to keep their mind focused and breathing steady. Over the last few days on Perihelion Station, they had been learning the art of âno-thoughtâ and several Sangheili battle-meditation exercises from Spartan-058. NĂșñez was light-years away from mastering these methods, but they followed the logic of the teaching: Thoughts and feelings are directionless paths branching in a deep forestâdo not follow them. This is not about an absence of thinking, it is a rejection of being lost in the endless possibilities of thought, uniting body and mind in clarity until it comes as naturally as breathing.
Simply put in this scenario: attempting to trace the reason back as to why the pod was malfunctioning and who was at fault was irrelevant guesswork.
Focus on the moment. Find the solution. Live.
âWhat now, sir?â
âInitiate a quick reset. Itâll take a few seconds to kick in and force reboot all systems. Just let it do its thing.â
A twist of a control dial and confirmation of intent instantly shut down all internal systems within the pod. The lights of its screens winked out and the Gunnery Sergeantâs image vanished, leaving NĂșñez to sit in darkness.
Focus on the sound of each breath.
The longest seconds NĂșñez had ever counted passedâtwo⊠three⊠fourâŠâand still the pod was falling. The ground getting closer and closerâŠ
All of a sudden, the screens flicked back on again and NĂșñez immediately hit the button for the drag chute.
Inertia compensators hadnât fully come online, but the sudden jolt of deceleration as the chute fired out of the top of the pod had never felt so good. Whatever whoops and cheers NĂșñez may have wanted to let out, neither their lungs nor their brain allowed it as adrenaline pumped through their body. Instead, NĂșñez simply winked a green status light and shifted focus to the landing that was still to come.
âTroopers, thank you for flying with us today at Badass Airlines,â Babatunde said, cutting through the tension. âPlease keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times until landing. And yes, that has been a problem before.â
Babatunde guided the final stages of their descent until all six pods hit solid ground.
NĂșñez felt like every bone had been violently pulled from their body and then shoved back in. But as the hatch blew off, NĂșñez grabbed their stowed MA40 and immediately leapt out of the podâs harness, their movement assisted by the semi-powered armor. The dark interior of the vehicle was suddenly replaced by rolling rocky plains, a light blue sky, and cotton white clouds.
âNobody popped,â Babatunde reported.
They had all made it. They were alive.
As the squad regrouped and formed up, Gunnery Sergeant Babatunde inspected each ODSTâs armor to confirm all systems were green and no damage had been suffered from the landing. Upon reaching NĂșñez, he announced, âOne of the most valuable lessons a soldier can learn is that technology can break, but you mustnât.â He clapped NĂșñez on the back. âYou stayed calm, followed instructions, and managed to land within an acceptable distance of the squad. Good work, soldier.â
NĂșñez was suddenly grateful for the polarized faceplate hiding their smile at the hint of admiration from the Gunnery Sergeant.
âAlright, weâve got a three-klick hike to reach the extraction point and get back to the ship.â The troopers began to fall in line to make the trek. A tone of mischief entered Babatundeâs voice as he added: âThen we go again!â
That was met with a handful of groans, but NĂșñez simply nodded as they followed, cresting that first hill and watching the sun glint off the edge of the distant peaks.
âFeet first!â
PERIHELION STATION
1600 HOURS // SEPTEMBER 21, 2559
Master Sergeant Marcus Stacker took his moments of rest where he could get them.
The elevator ferrying him to the war games deck of Perihelion Station featured a curved viewport that looked out over the immense mining operation being conducted by the BXR Mining Corporation on and below the surface of KC-59.
A colossal crater, some sixty kilometers in diameter, had been bored into the planetâs surface where extensive deposits of titanium were still in the process of being mined and ferried back up to the station. From the stories his uncle had told him many years ago, Stacker had no end of respect for the folks who signed up for jobs like thisâjust because it didnât involve combat (at least, not typically), that didnât diminish the brass required for jobs that involved a mix of zero-g station maintenance, extreme depths, exotic materials, and countless other quirks he no doubt knew nothing about. All to play a small but essential part in protecting humanity.
For his part, he and the ODSTs of the Ninth Platoon had been running exercises to push themselves, their armor, and their opponents to the limit over the last three days.
That hadnât proven difficult when they were training both with and against soldiers of legendâthe Spartans of Blue Team, led by the Master Chief himself.
The last seven years of Stackerâs military career had, by pure chance, been inexplicably connected to humanityâs greatest hero, and it was for that reason that Captain Thomas Lasky had selected him to lead the Ninth Platoon for these exercises.
âYou have unique experience, Master Sergeant.â Captain Lasky had said to him aboard Infinity a few days ago, before adding with a smirk, âOne day, itâll make a hell of a memoir.â
âNobodyâll believe a word of it,â Stacker had remarked. ââAnd then the Master Chief literally appeared out of thin air, jumped into a tank, and helped us kick the Covenantâs asses a whole klick across the desert before taking out Requiemâs gravity well so we could go home.â Hell, sometimes I still donât believe it.â
The almost miraculous nature of it all sometimes made the Master Sergeant uncomfortable. He was much more at home dwelling on the tangible: tactics, training, and clinical, routine execution. In Stackerâs eyes, the real miracle was the ability to unify a group of soldiers through pride and preparation.
The Spartans and ODSTs had been pitted against each other, four against a whole platoon, utilizing tactical lock-up rounds in a variety of training scenarios. Just as the Spartans had been field testing their new GEN3 Mjolnir armor, so too had the ORCUS exoskeleton been put to the test as drop pods were regularly launched from the frigate Amicable Disagreement down to KC-59. Nothing would be able to fully recreate the circumstances of a true combat drop, but zero casualties and successful results on these test runs was a win in Stackerâs book.
The elevator came to a stop at Perihelion Stationâs top level and, with the crispness of a salute, the doors slid open to reveal the ringed, multi-level combat deck.
The top floor of the combat deck played host to the recreation center along with multiple gymnasiums and rooms for sparring. Below that lay the armory and several multi-axis Brokkr devices, machines used to assist the Spartans with putting on and taking off their armor. The third floor downâthe âmain event,â as it wereâwas the war games simulation deck, which took the form of a Munera Platform that could also be deployed separately from the stationâs underbelly if desired.
Stacker had worked closely with the simulation techs of the UNSCâs Cartographer Initiative to devise unique challenges over the last few days. The simulator had been configured into a series of arenas that spanned a wide variety of locationsâfrom urban environments on Earth to ancient facilities recorded on different Forerunner installations, everything and anything they had in the system. New rules, new threats, new environmental hazards. Stacker had been throwing it all at them to see just how quickly the Spartans and ODSTs could adjust on the fly.
The concave walls of the deck were lined with a series of screens that were synchronized with the helmet cameras of the Spartans and ODSTs. As he approached, Stacker could tell there was an exercise in progress.
An ODST marksman turned their weapon towards Linda-058, but Fred-104 was sprinting towards Lindaâs position, weapons holstered, as he blasted the ground with a repulsor equipped to his forearm which launched him some six feet into the air. As the ODST fired, sending two tactical lock-up rounds directly at Linda, Fred tossed a drop wall unit with his other hand which emitted an energy shield that absorbed the first hit. The second shot impacted upon the drop wall unit itself, blasting it apart.
Linda neither hesitated nor flinched in reaction. This had simply bought her time to get a fix on the marksmanâs position. To Stacker, it looked as if Linda had fired her rifle and dropped the marksman as she was still in the process of readying her aim.
From one of the nearby sparring rooms, Kelly-087âs voice issued a commanding âAgain.â She and her ODST partner, Lance Corporal Julie Chang, were demonstrating hand-to-hand drills effective against Unggoy and Kig-Yar to a group of fifteen others.
Stacker had seen Kelly in action over the last few days, darting across the simulated battlefield with her thruster module which had been modified to engage a few seconds of active camouflage. She had overclocked the system to recharge faster which reduced the length of the camouflage system to just half-a-secondâbut that was all she needed to give the illusion of disappearing and reappearing in unpredictable places.
Finally, a couple of rooms over, Stacker caught a glimpse of the Master Chief himself.
There was something almost quaint in seeing the Spartan revered by so many as humanityâs ultimate champion spotting for half-a-dozen ODSTs in one of the gymnasiums. Stacker observed the Chief dutifully checking the weights and equipment with every rotation. That came as no surprise given the terse history between Spartans and ODSTs, going back to an incident aboard the UNSC Atlas where four of the 105th had ended up either critically wounded or dead after an⊠unfortunate altercation.
That was well over thirty years ago now, but âforgive and forgetâ wasnât in the service manual for a helljumper. Some of the old guard felt resentment towards those who had gone on to volunteer for the SPARTAN-IV program, and even some of the troopers on Perihelion Station hadnât been enthused about the prospect of serving as âtraining dummiesâ for Spartans.
Despite all this, the scene in the gymnasium told its own story as the ODSTs cheered and whooped for Corporal Malika Aswad hitting some kind of record. The Chief gently clamped a congratulatory hand on her shoulder.
The reality was that the presence of the Spartans had naturally created a spectacle that made the ODSTs push themselves harder. That camaraderie was exactly what Stacker had hoped for, but he knew that a soldierâs confidence had to be tempered with a reminder of reality. These last few days had offered a safe environment to sharpen their steel, but the only test waiting for them on the battlefield was whether they would make it to the end of the day.
That test would arrive soon enough.
âAttention, all hands,â Stacker spoke into a station-wide comm. âWeâre saddlinâ up, itâs time to wrap this party. Infinity will arrive at eighteen-hundred hours, after which point weâre back to business as usual.â
They all knew what âbusiness as usualâ meant. Evading enemy forces, making house calls to abandoned facilities for resupply runs, choosing which battles to fight⊠and counting those that didnât make it back.
Operation: WOLFE was just a few weeks away, and returning to the glasslands of Reach would prove physically and psychologically challenging for all of them. Nobody seemed to know much about the mission itself, but they all had their part to playâthat meant being prepared for anything.
And after that? Stacker figured he had a good amount of shore leave banked. Perhaps it was time to finally cash in, make a start on those memoirsâŠ
Like hell, he sighed, watching the Spartans and ODSTs pack up equipment together like a regular band of brothers. Heâlike everybody else hereâwas in the fight until the end.
As Stacker began making his own preparations, he found himself humming an old minerâs tune that had been a favorite of his uncleâs.
Buried in the heart of an ancient moon, he always dreamed of the fight
Glory was won while his brothers were lost, in battles he waged in the night
His life blown away in the blood that he gave, an offering unrecognized
Never became what he already was, the darkness that brings on the light.
Firefight Classic
Firefight Through Time
Firefight was first introduced way back in 2009 with Halo 3: ODST. You and up to three of your buddies could squad up and put your skills to the test surviving round after round of Covenant hordes attacking your position.
Through the years, Firefight has seen various iterations and has evolved in many ways. In Halo: Reach, you had armor abilities and additional customization. Halo 5 saw the introduction of Warzone Firefight that pitted a team of eight against Covenant and Promethean forces. Even Halo Wars 2 brought in a tower defense-inspired variant, Terminus Firefight.
The latest, Halo Infiniteâs Firefight: King of the Hill, has you and your squad capturing and defending hills against incoming Banished forces.
But now itâs time to return to the classic.
Current Objective: Survive
Itâs the formula we all know and love. You and three squadmates versus the endless waves of enemies with one thing running through your mind:
Survive.
In KOTH, itâs easy to know when youâve won or lost because you are either in the hill at the end of the round, or not (or MIA I suppose), but Classic comes with waves, rounds, and sets. Letâs break it down.
- One Round is comprised of five Waves of enemies
- Wave 1 is an easy wave
- Waves 2-4 are mid-tier difficulties
- Wave 5 is a boss round
- Wave 1 is an easy wave
- Three Rounds (plus a Bonus Round) comprise a Set
- This is a total of 15 waves
Did we mention this mode is endless? The game keeps going as long as you keep surviving so stock up on snacks and water if youâre in this for the long haul.
Bonus rounds are little mini-breaks between sets. All Skulls are on, enemies are on Easy mode, no lives are lost, and the stakes are low. And speaking of the stakes, letâs talk lives.
I Will Survive
At the start of each match, youâll have 7 lives in your teamâs life pool. These are shared amongst the four of you, so if someone is charging forward willy-nilly youâll quickly find yourself looking at the Post-Game Carnage Report. If you play well and stay alive, youâll preserve your life pool for the later, harder rounds.
But sometimes, deaths happenâweâve all been there. At the end of each set your team will earn an extra life. Additionally, youâll gain a life for each 1,000 points earned during the bonus round. So if you turn around and find yourself face to face with a Grunt rushing you with plasma grenades, donât sweat it too much â you can always make it up later.
We Need to Evac
New to Halo Infinite, youâll now be able to choose to end your match at the end of a set. Before the next round begins, youâll see a zone pop up that says, âComplete the mission.â If at least two of you hop into the zone, youâll be extracted from the mission and the match will end. If you donât get in the zone before the next round, youâll be committed until you either:
- Run out of lives
- Make it to the end of the next set
If youâve survived, congratulations! The next round is about to begin. Each set has a new set of Skulls that will activate. Youâll see a new Skull activate on rounds two and three, adding an extra layer of difficulty to the firefight.
If youâre running low on ammo, donât fretâyouâll get a resupply between each round.
The Maps
You can bookmark the mode created by Artifice7285 here:
Firefight Classic
And then grab the maps youâll be playing on below!
Alpha Site
Credits: Its L0L0, LudoHT, MikRips, Mr Greencastle
Bookmark
Many a Vidmaster: Endure achievement was earned within these hallowed halls on the Road to Recon.
Courtyard
Credits: bullet2thehead9, Mr Greencastle
Bookmark
Weâve got Jackals in the Courtyard!
Forest Firefight
Bookmark
Only you can prevent forest fires.
House of Reckoning
Bookmark
Do you reckon anyoneâs home?
Security Zone
Credits: Its L0L0, LudoHT, MikRips, Cousin Tim, VIrus11010, ArtN00b, Mr Greencastle
Bookmark
Perhaps the most quintessential map from Halo 3: ODST returns so secure those zones.
Weâre very excited to have this mode available in matchmaking and we know you are looking forward to jumping in. How long you survive the waves of enemies is up to you.
Play smart, help each other out, and watch those lives!
Hot Swap
Swap It Like It's Hot
Overall, this is a very straightforward and simple mode. Itâs your team vs the enemy team and everyone has the same weapons and equipment. Yes, everyone. In other versions of this mode, you often find your weapons/loadouts advancing to the next tier after each kill but in Hot Swap, youâll keep those loadouts for 30 seconds at a time. After that, the proverbial dice are rolled and everyone is gifted a new combo. Hone your skill and stay flexible â things can change on a dime.
Here are the set loadouts you should be prepared to work with at any given moment:
[table]
[tr]
[th]Primary[/th]
[th]Secondary[/th]
[th]Equipment[/th][/tr]
[tr]
[td]M41 SPNKr[/td]
[td]Ravager[/td]
[td]Repulsor[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]Energy Sword[/td]
[td]Gravity Hammer[/td]
[td]Shroud Screen[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]S7 Sniper Rifle[/td]
[td]Skewer[/td]
[td]Grappleshot[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]MLRS-2 Hydra[/td]
[td]Cindershot[/td]
[td]Repulsor[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]CQS48 Bulldog[/td]
[td]Needler[/td]
[td]Grappleshot[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]BR75[/td]
[td]VK78 Commando[/td]
[td]Threat Sensor[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]Shock Rifle[/td]
[td]Stalker Rifle[/td]
[td]Drop Wall[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]Heatwave[/td]
[td]Fuel Rod SPNKr[/td]
[td]Thruster[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]MA40 Assault Rifle[/td]
[td]M392 Bandit[/td]
[td]Drop Wall[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]Mangler[/td]
[td]MA5K Avenger[/td]
[td]Quantum Translocator[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]Plasma Pistol[/td]
[td]Mk50 Sidekick[/td]
[td]Thruster[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]Disruptor[/td]
[td]Sentinel Beam[/td]
[td]Repair Field[/td][/tr]
[tr]
[td]Oddball[/td]
[td]None[/td]
[td]Thruster[/td][/tr]
[/table]
While you may see a repeat loadout, it wonât happen until youâve cycled through the entire list. Also if you are mid-grapple when things swap, you might find yourself saying, âwow I flew pretty good for a brick!â as your grapple disappears midway through. Good luck.
Youâll be playing on a variety of current Arena maps that should be familiar but there is one new map to check out:
Nemesis
Credits: WAR, I am a Luxury, Certified Champ, Okom1
Bookmark
Focus on the enemy, donât let the mapâs edges become your nemesis.
Hot Swap is available in matchmaking right now so jump in while it's hot and see what you get!