Marcus Fenix says something gruffly, his squad laughs, then a horde of Locust enemies rushes the team. The hulking figure of Marcus roadie-runs towards the nearest hip-high bit of cover, slams his muscly shoulder into the concrete, and starts laying down suppressing fire with his Lancer machine gun. Enemy bodies fall apart in meaty chunks, blood spatters on the stone floor. A grey-skinned drone breaks through the defensive line and levels his Gnasher at you, finger on the trigger.