Threads 1, 2, 3, 4, 5: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Halo:%20Spartan%202%20War%20Reports
Active Spartan Roster: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/12PTTzwcNVbQbIC101lrcrQQZKWhK3myTLWEQ0A1ybj8/edit?gid=0#gid=0
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Sven-033's Qualities: [Special] Giant, [Special] Spartan-II, Maverick, Officer [Lieutenant], Wunderkind, Inspiring.
Sven-033's Advancement Paths: Brawler: Open Hand: 5/10 Bulwark: Unbreakable: 5/10 Grenadier: Plasma Wiz: 5/10 Shotgunner: 1| Diplomat 1/6 Infiltrator 2/6 Scrounger 2/6 Tactician 2 /6| Jotun 1/4
Sub objective Progress: Artificial Artisan 3/?| Blade Breaker 1/?
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UNSC Skidbladnir (Razor Class Prowler)
UNSC Skidbladnir Crew Qualities: Eclectic
UNSC Skidbladnir Officers: Sensor Operator: Ensign Sonar Kobal, COM Officer: Ensign Kon Kiyomi. Navigator: Lieutenant Junior Grade Marisa Deluna, Weapons Controller: Lieutenant Junior Grade Valerie Faure. Pilots: Warrant Officer Bari Cook & Cadet Bernetta Coste
Spartans Aboard: Sven-033, James-005, Jorges-052. Nesta-097, Shika-108, Daisy-023. Naomi-010, Solomon-069, Malcom-059, Anton-044, Illya-077, Cal-141, and Soren-066 (Inactive/ Washout)
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<span class="mu-s"> Current Mission: Mission 5: Operation: HVITSERK....Pending Completion/Result Calculation </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Primary Objective 1: Destroy the Einherjar Fleet and prevent any ships/ systems from falling into Covenant Hands...Success </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Primary Objective 2: Confirm the termination of or Capture and Secure the Einherjar General Codenamed "Whiteshirt"....Success </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Secondary Objective 1: Retrieve UNSC property from Einherjar Hands, if the opportunity presents itself....Success </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Optional Sub Objective 1: Win the battle with minimal friendly casualties (Less than 25% of the Squadron/ 5 ships). 3/5 (UNSC Shinigami, UNSC Dogfish, UNSC Uppercut)....Success </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Secret Objective 1: [File Decrypted] . Capture Whiteshirt's Halcyon & Experimental Exo-Skeleton Power armor </span>
<span class="mu-s"> Secret Objective 2: [File Decrypted] . Reach the Bottom of the [???] Ruins and bring back a souvenir, or several </span>
<span class="mu-s"> War Effort & Personal Rewards + advancements to Preferred Candidate Sven-033's Diplomat, Infiltrator and Tactician Advancement paths pending Mission After Action Report </span>
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The smell of dried blood lingered on your upper lip as you laid flat and prone against the medical table, eyes tracking the numerous programs flashing above your eyes as the AI Rita ran what amounted to a diagnostic scan of your head, checking your brain activity and neural patterns for any abnormalities or damage. Checking yourself and Shika in to the medbay was the first thing you did once you'd been shuttled over from the Lawrence of Arabia to your own ship.
Cont

You see his face. Sharp razor slit eyes etched onto a hulking creature’s giant head, which would give children across the galaxy vivid nightmares, stare into your soul. It produces no feeling of horror or fear, nor any other natural response, because you know him. Those eyes that are locked onto yours are dulled, empty, lifeless. The vacant glare causes your heart to wither in your chest. It was you, you did this, you killed your closest friend. A man who has saved your life, and you killed him. Now his face is slack, muscles relaxed, and his eyes are barren; all that vigour and life that he carried around with him is forever gone, never to return.

It was your choice to kill him. Sith Lord Yvalok presented the options to you. During your months on Lao training as a Sith Acolyte you, Vulfstahn a child of the extinct Sith people, have shown a wild potency with the Force which is unequalled by your supposed peers. This rare talent caught Yvalok’s eyes and has him captivated with your development, wanting nothing more than to see you flourish. The ancient human decided to gift you hate through a choice: slay Urr’tal in a duel or watch as Yira gets gangraped. You gave the withered husk of a Human your answer. With a slash of your sword, you betrayed Urr’tal, ending all the myriad great possibilities he could have achieved in his prodigious lifespan.

The Sith Lord that would be nothing but a frail old man if not for his mastery of the dark side of the Force stands above you as thick red ichor spews from the Whiphid’s severed neck. Forced onto the hard durasteel floor by a burst of lightning, you are enveloped by the growing pool of your friend’s blood. His decapitated head rests in front of you, not able to steal your eyes away from the lifeless face as his matted fur stains from his bleeding. Yvalok monologues and lectures, but you can’t hear him. The unblinking eyes have stolen your world.

Your name is Vincent Cruz. You work in a shady government-backed facility in the middle of the New Mexico desert. By all accounts, you are a complete and total nobody to the Powers That Be.

You've managed to survive the last 7 days at your job. Your job, of course, involves studying and researching dangerous anomalous entities in order to make money for the Abnormality Regulation Coalition (also known as ARC).

In fact, you survived long enough to get promoted from Level 0 to Level 1. You're no longer on the bottom of the totem pole but you're still so, so far away from the top. Five more ranks to go and who's to say you'll survive long enough to reach the top?

If you're going to die here, at least you're going to die at the top. You've climbed dozens upon dozens of corporate ladders, what's one more, after all? It's the only life you've known so you might as well get comfortable with it.

As for a recap of some notable things that happened recently?

You accidently stumbled across Liz getting herself involved in office politics. While you don't care about getting yourself entangled in them, you decided to keep an eye on Liz to make sure she won't do something she'll regret.

You also learnt that one of your coworkers, Ashton, is an aberrant cannibalistic human called a 'Harvester'. For a while you thought her unconditional kindness to you was a mask for something but no, apparently she really see you as a friend. Instead of a meal, thankfully.

A dream you had last night still lingers in the back of your mind. It was the only decision you could've made, it was the only right decision, you had to leave that house.

One of your anomalies, IN LIMBO, has finally kicked the bucket. It decided that the best thing to do would be to move on. All that's left of it now is an ARTIFACT, a remnant of its anomalous power. Rest in peace, Rolle.

And lastly, an old and presumably anomalous phone you bought a while ago has been ringing non-stop during your shift. You're currently trying to negotiate a deal with a mysterious man who's offering you something that 'doesn't cost you money', whatever that means.

Your life is a surreal mess but what can you do about it? The only path you can see for yourself is doing your job to the best of your ability. You're a <span class="mu-s">wageslave</span>, born and raised to torture yourself by doing obtuse and obscene tasks all so a line goes up.

For the line must always go up.

ARCHIVE: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Low%20Rung
VINCENT SHEET/INVENTORY: https://rentry.co/VINCENTSHEET
ALLIES: https://rentry.co/COWORKERLIST
ANOMALY NOTES: https://rentry.co/RESEARCHNOTES

You are Marnie, a girl living in the Ark known as the Digital World. For all your life, you've endured a dreary existence in City 87-O, haplessly railing against a skin-deep system that denies you all but the most meaningless human experiences. You've spent years beholding the shining tower in the center of the city, and watched its guardian Digimon circle it endlessly, protecting the portal that leads out of this sunless landscape. Throughout your youth, you never thought you'd actually be able to make your dream a reality. But things have begun to change over the past few months.

A chance meeting with a Digimon has plunged you into a hidden world of wonders, filled with wild Digimon, enigmatic Code Crackers, mysterious server partitions that reveal the City's inner workings to you, and underground organizations seeking to bring change to this world. Amidst this danger is the authenticity you've so dearly craved, and you've never been happier.

Right now, you're in the middle of a mission to take down your Digimon Nemesis. You and your partner, Phascomon, have broken into the lair of DarkTyrannomon, who has taken over an entire Job District. You've made it past his lieutenants and minions and are mere steps away from facing down your foe one last time and putting an end to his danger.

Once that's done, you plan to climb The Tower, defeat its guardian, and finally claim your freedom. The real world awaits.

==

Thread 1:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6216903/

Thread 2:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6254189

Thread 3:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6297141/

<span class="mu-r">This is the end of the world.</span> It's also the birth of a new one, or an old one, depending on who you ask. Maybe it's more like an overdue arranged marriage.

You might not have been fully aware, but the world used to cast a Shadow: a separate realm of spirits, kept away by a barrier that only a certain few were ever meant to cross. Spirits are capricious, rarely logical, and often dangerous beings composed of the essence and energy of all things real; scuttling reflections with their own arcane hierarchies and motivations.

But every wall has its rats, and the barrier between your world and the spirit world was no exception. The Beshilu are a nasty manner of demon - derived from and connected to the spirit world, but fettered to the world of flesh, and gifted with many terrible abilities. They massacre and they multiply, and their only desire has ever been to tear down that wall between worlds... to gnaw at its foundations in greater and greater numbers, until the wolves could no longer keep them at bay.

They succeeded.

Too many tears. Too many crumbling wounds between worlds. The gauntlet was sundered, and when that wall crumbled away, the world of mortals and the world of spirits were merged into one. In those first terrible moments, everyone on Earth could hear a trillion shrill voices screeching out in triumph, and swarms of rats swelled across streets and forests in writhing tides.

The fabric of reality is now like a sieve, the threads wavering apart and stretching in new directions; space and time operate differently. The sun no longer rises, or sets, and light instead seems to meander from one place to the next according to whim. Places seem to stir and shift, reacting to their occupants in sometimes unpredictable fashion. The rules have changed, and will likely change more, but things will never go back to the way they were.

That was three days ago, and it would be a stretch to say the dust has settled, but you are adjusting to the chaos. You're a survivor, and while you may not fully grasp what's going on, you're not unfamiliar with the supernatural. You are determined to knuckle down and make your way in this fucked up new world....

>Cont'd

<span class="mu-b">ANTON PEAS:</span> that’s your name, don’t wear it out! Originally a mild-mannered grilljockey, a botched demonic summoning brought you to <span class="mu-b">ZORAL:</span> a fantasy world shrouded in perpetual darkness!

You get used to it!

The memory loss and everyone trying to kill you? That’s the tricky part. See, your unexpected trip landed you in one Hell of a mess: not only did you lose a huge chunk of your memories, but you also forfeit your soul to <span class="mu-r">RED</span>--you don’t know the specifics, but essentially your summoning granted you some <span class="mu-r">DEMONIC POWERS</span>, so it’s not all bad!

What <span class="mu-i">IS</span> bad is what you’re up to now: your hellish helper can restore your memories, but he won’t do it for free! The price: delivering the heads of <span class="mu-r">THE FOUR LORDS OF ZORAL:</span> tyrants and titans that rule the darklands with iron fists, claws, and… you dunno, tentacles, maybe? There’s a reason they’ve ruled for so long, however, and despite your platoon of pals and plentiful powers you can’t help but feel a little apprehensive about the whole thing!

Exhibit A: <span class="mu-r">ARCHMAGE TRIER.</span> Arriving in <span class="mu-b">UMBERAL:</span> Zoral’s very own city of tomorrow, you were swiftly introduced to the <span class="mu-r">TEKSOULS:</span> menacing magitek that follow every whim Trier can think up… and you met the guy–he thinks a <span class="mu-i">LOT!</span>

Not to be outdone, you also ran into <span class="mu-r">THE SPICE CARTEL</span>--not only is Umberal their home turf, they’re also running some kind of deal with the Archmage… as for what it is, well, you shudder to think!

Your search for leverage over the Archmage took you to <span class="mu-b">TRIMBAULT ACADEMY:</span> Zoral’s most prestigious magical academy, and whole you managed to snag some goodies and teach a surprisingly-decent class (don’t ask), you didn’t manage to find notes other mages took on their Archmage adversary! Even worse, all signs point to The Cartel snatching them up for their own perfidious plots!

Luckily you had an in: <span class="mu-b">TZAH-TZIE</span>, skilled songstress and your current beau, has an axe to grind with her musical rival <span class="mu-b">LUTZA</span>. Having saved the starlet from a kidnapping on the Umberal Skyrail, you earned your way into holding a concert in Umberal, and some of the biggest names in The Cartel just happen to be huge fans!

You were just about to plot out the details at the glitzy <span class="mu-b">CRYSTALMELT HOT SPRINGS LODGE</span> when you ran smack-dab into The Cartel’s higher-ups… and the big cheese himself, <span class="mu-r">VHALE NESSURMOS</span>.

Did we mention he’s also your girlfriend’s husband? And that she freezes up like a clam on Pluto at the mere mention of his name?

Cornered by the Cartel, THIS is where your tale continues…

https://youtu.be/1lR8VLt1Xlk

>CONTD.

in a meaningless world, a girl finds heaven in scarlet mist

Humanity has spread out into a massive sprawling empire throughout the galaxy. The edges of the sprawl remain poorly guarded and sparsely settled after all humanity throughout a thousand stars has always been alone save for their own creations which once waged war against them. This is no longer true now an unknown force has begun to attack sector 63 and other sectors and it is up to poorly supplied and desperate sailors to hold them back.


You are the Admiral of the naval fleet of sector 63 one of nearly a 100 rimward sectors on the edge of settled human space. The war has finally turned in humanity's favor the once unending horde of bird ships, who you now know are called the Argono have finally ebbed away. Your industry soars and the first of the friendly fleets have begun to probe from Mid Rim sector 63 in your own sector to hopefully soon relieve you.

You're currently on patrol facing off against a small fleet of enemy ships made up of 4 battleships, 2 battlescruisers and 12 Heavy cruisers facing off against your veteran picket line of corvettes, destroyers, and several light cruisers along with your freshly converted semi guided missile cruiser. The enemies' lasers dance around the picket line as the push forward even as your missile cruiser comes to a stop and turns to give the enemy their broadside. There's several large flashes as all 12 of its missiles fire and burn fast toward the enemy capital ships. There is some swearing over comms as the missiles zip past the picket line and your strike craft but the pilots and captains are too busy dodging incoming fire as they loose their own torpedo strikes to give too much complaint.

Could I get a 1d100 best of three please

Past Threads:https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=BrinkQM

<span class="mu-s">Monday</span>
<span class="mu-s">Grid Sector 11873, Defensive Position "Razorback"</span>

The Bradley 1A5 kept firing with it's auto-cannon at the incoming target. One of it's tracks, the left one, was damaged. The rack of guided missiles had been emptied days ago and there hadn't been the chance to refill them.

Quartermaster "Godmother" was inside the basement of a ruined house, missing it's second floor and portions of the first. The structure of plywood would provide minimal protection or cover, which was why he was underground.

Beside him was Jack Price, the Engineer from MARS Incorporated, now a Lieutenant in what remained of the Armed Forces.

Finally, if he was still alive, was Capt. Harry Grand from the Air Force.
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In the basement was a Javelin guided missile, loaded, but with no available reloads. There was also MARS MPAR, a laser guided upgrade of the FGM-172A SRAW project. That system and a single reload were bundled together. Both would require firing from outside or the precarious top floor.

The other explosive options were the drum fed, six shot 40mm Milkor MGL.... OR three disposable AT-4ERs.

There was closed crates that may or may not have additional supplies, but the three of them didn't know how to operate that many weapons outside the rocket launchers and a basic M16A4.

There was the blowtorch and Quik Patch case, if Jack wanted to try repairing the Bradley.