“No it’s not. Step into it if you don’t believe me. You won’t rise up; you’ll just stop the Energon™ flow. You’re shield will be temporarily disabled due to the sheer power of the thing, but you won’t ascend.” Chef approached the pillar (of light), eying it apprehensively. “Couldn’t I just stick my arm in it?” “No. Your arm isn’t wide enough to stop the flow.” “Fine!” Chef grumbled. He stepped in and felt a warm, soft flow of Energon™ around his armour, and then heard a buzz as his shield went offline. As he stood there with his eyes closed in the serenity of the pillar, a group of Sent-‘n’-alls came into view. “Chef?” “…Mmm…” “Chef?!” “…uh…?” “CHEF!!!” “Z…z…” A laser beam swept across Chef’s armour, scorching it and waking him up. “Aaargh! There were these two boys and…” “Chef, destroy those Sent-‘n’-alls!” “I’ll probably miss,” he moped, “wasting precious rockets.” “Fine! Just get out of here!” Chef ran through the door, punching any Sent-‘n’-alls that got in his way, and made it outside to where the Sent-‘n’-alls bizarrely didn’t fire on him. Chef looked down to ravine floor. “Now about getting down there…” From out of nowhere above the platform, a Banscreen dropped and landed in front of Chef. “How…?” “Don’t worry about it, just get in!” Chef shrugged and clambered into the craft, which was once again frustratingly hard to pilot. “Where’s the second generator?” “It’s in the next part of the canyon.” “So we only have to go down to those doors on that snowy rock bridge to get to it? Not much flying?” “Well, no, not at first. But once…” “That’s good enough for me!” Chef grinned, pivoting the Banscreen down to face the bridge. “Now all I have to do is…” He pulled the acceleration trigger and accelerated. How unexpected. The craft moved down towards the bridge and Chef felt as though he had gone far enough. He opened the top of the craft and popped out. And then fell. Having winded himself after falling such a long distance, Chef decided to take a break and stood on the bridge for a while, regaining his breath. “Chef! Come on!” urged Cort. “We have to keep moving! What’s more important, the whole of mankind’s survival, or you regaining your breath?” “It’s okay,” Chef replied, inhaling sharply, “I’m good to go…” He took a few steps before falling over. After Chef had been out for a few minutes, Cort decided to do things on her own. She attempted to take control of the muscle enhancement systems in the suit. After another minute or two, Cort managed to make the TARTAN-II suit move on its own. “Damn I’m good!” she said to herself. “Well, that’s what you get for being developed by Microsoft!” Movements in Chef’s arms woke him up. He was standing on the same parallel bridges he had walked along earlier, firing on Mud zombies who were firing on Coverup troops who were firing at him. “Wha…was I sleep walking?” “Hmm? Oh no, I managed to take control of your suit. This is me doing the shooting.” “That’s…that’s impossible!” spluttered Chef. “So you could just do anything with this suit without me?” “Pretty much…watch out!” A Mud zombie leapt over to Chef, saying something along the lines of “RFLRDL!” Cort manoeuvred the suit to avoid the zombie, and then squeezed the trigger on the shotgun Chef now realised he was carrying to blast the zombie into the precipice. Wait, no, I mean over the precipice. Yes, that’s right. Chef, jerking his arm out of the position Cort had it, said, “I’ll take that, thank you!” A L33t spotted him, running at him with an Energon™ Sword. Chef turned and fired the shotgun. And missed. Cort took control again and shot the L33t before it could move any closer. “And I haven’t even had training!” They continued out into the next part of the chasm, with Chef giving Cort a long lecture about how he should control his suit. “If you keep on using it to its maximum, you’ll waste all the power.” “You have to push yourself,” Cort insisted. “The power comes from me! You’ll wear me out!” “Push yourself!” “I’m not going to have this argument,” argued Chef. “Just let me control my own body!” “Fine!” moped Cort. “It was fun having a kinetic presence in the world.” “You sounded like the Assistant then,” remarked Chef. “No, the Assistant is just an annoying substitute for a stapler. I’m a sassy chick.” “A sassy fat chick.” “What?” “Nothing! Where’s the second generator?” “Up on that ledge,” replied Cort. “We need a Banscreen.” Chef scanned the area while shooting the Coverup group approaching him. “I don’t see any.” “Have a look behind that building,” said Cort as Chef’s suit started walking. “I’ll do it!” said Chef, pulling his leg back, then putting the same leg forwards. “Gonna do the Hokey-Cokey?” (How do you spell that?) “No, just regaining control of my own body.” “Right…oooooooh the hokey-cokey!” Chef’s body started to dance. “AARGH!” He ran forwards, trying to overpower the slightly-unhinged computer program’s movements. “Hurrah! A Banscreen!” He ran towards the vehicle like it was long lost relative or friend and literally kissed it, the freak. Flying up into the sky, he leaned out and directed the Banscreen onto the platform and hopped out. “Do you reckon there’ll be more Sent-‘n’-alls in there?” he asked Cort. “No, probably the same amount.” Chef rolled his eyes and walked in. “RFLHRD!!” “I think I just wet myself again.” “Alright,” sighed Cort. “Stay still and I’ll dry it out.” Chef felt air blow onto his crotch and then jumped as the Mud made its way towards him. “Stay still!” “Hurry up!” Chef whined. With the blowing not stopping and the Mud closing in, Chef decided to just run for the Energon™ Generator anyway. He stood in it for a few moments, the waves trying to lull him into a sleep once again, but he resisted the urge to get some warm milk and ran back out to the platform. “Chef! Why did you run?” asked Cort, annoyed. “The Mud were gaining on me.” “Now that ventilation system is broken!” “I just hope I’m wearing that self-ventilating underwear,” said Chef, confusing one of his dreams with reality. “And I just hope that a Banscreen randomly materialises again. Where did it go?” “It’s right here,” said Chef, climbing into the vehicle. Flying back down to the ground and disembarking, Chef asked Cort the location of the last generator. “It’s back the way we came,” said Cort, now getting the grip of how to say sarcastic comments. She’s better than me. “Right,” laughed Chef, heading through to the next tunnel that led to the last canyon, “you mean it’s this way?” “No,” Cort drawled, “it’s the way I said.” “Hehe! You’re getting the hang of this sarcasm lark.” “No, this me telling you the truth,” she said, once again sarcastically. “Really?” she added hopefully. “Definitely! When we get out of this, write a parody of it and call it “Halo”. It’ll be great!” Chef continued to walk down the tunnel, realising that they had had transport this time, chapter 5. “Where’s that tank got to?” said Chef looking around, crossing a bridge and firing into a group of Coverup simultaneously. “I think it got destroyed,” replied Cort. “That, or commandeered by the Mud.” “Shh! They’re not supposed to know about that yet!” “What? Oh, yeah! I mean it [i]probably got destroyed after the Mud assaulted it[/i].” She said this slightly louder, indictated by the italics, as if to convey its meaning over something else. As they neared the exit, Chef started yet another conversation, as he had only one “person” to talk to, and they were both on their last ideas on what to talk about. “Is it me, or is it much darker now than it was a few hours ago?”