THURSDAY
LOCAL CALENDAR: MAY 21, 2026
MILITARY CALENDAR: SEPTEMBER 20, 2552

I awaken early in the morning with the rising sun and squint to see the clock - 07:00. I’ve already lost sleep and the four-day festivities haven’t even begun… but that’s of little consequence when I’m this excited. I quickly slip out of bed and – being the true boomer that I am – crack open my energy drink of choice. As the first drops of citrus goodness hit my tongue, I feel the rush of God’s most glorious elixir bring life to these old bones. Just a few sips later and I’m in the shower, washing away the sin and guilt of breaking into His chosen nectar so early in the day.

Clean of conscience and spirit, I emerge and immediately resume the work - organizing and prepping the equipment and materials. I’ve been planning this event for months; you’d think I’d have completed packing by now, but these things have a habit of creeping up last minute. I’m checking my manifest and marking off items as I do so, with the quiet whisper of “you’re forgetting this thing” slowly fading into the background noise of my mind.

Suddenly, the time is 11:00 hours and I’m traveling to acquire cargo transport; the nine-foot UHAUL van that I’ve reserved it ready and waiting. I notice a ping from the Discord server we setup for the event –

“Supply transport on the move.”

Excellent. My brother in arms (Revenant) and his wife (Fembot) have begun their great journey south-by-southwestward. I smile and appreciate the terminology as I approach the rental location, my excitement growing more and more. I’m home again and loading by noon; boxes of varying size and shape now fill half the once spacious compartment and I realize that I neglected to purchase securement straps. No matter – I’ve stacked boxes professionally in the past and have mastered the art.

As I continue to load, I’m accosted by a phone call from my father; he wants to wish me well on my travels and impart some last-minute wisdom. What’s promised to be some quick words expands to fill the entirety of my hour-long loading process, with inquiries ranging from the contents I’m bringing to the feelings I’m having about the event. I chuckle internally and carry on the conversation while carrying on the packing; my dad’s excited for me and just wants to share in that. Mid-conversation, I notice another ping –

“Refueled and on the road again.”

A photo of the newly-opened Buc-ee’s location in Ohio rests below the text. A southern treasure, I’d heard the legend of Buc-ee’s but wasn’t aware at the time just how much it would factor into our festivities. That’s a story for later, though. Half an hour later, I’ve finished loading the van, locked the rear and side doors, and prepped for final departure. I smirk and decide to carry on the theme on Discord –

“Pelican Bravo-53 outbound! Somebody order heavy lift gear?”

As I escape the city limits and enter the open road, the sun is high and the sky is bright; an absolutely beautiful day for traveling. The rather uneventful yet peaceful drive sees me pass Indiana University in Bloomington, and the great plains give way to the gentle hills and rock wall outcroppings of southern Indiana. Nearing closer to the lodge we’ve booked, I cruise through a narrow road section between red-brown rock wall – and for just a heartbeat, I’m transported to my own little gulch and ponder why we’re here.

I’m the first to arrive and momentarily hit an impasse; the GPS coordinates state that I’ve arrived, but there’s nothing in sight. I’d reconned the location via Google Maps beforehand, but that was several weeks ago and I remembered the roads orientating slightly differently. I did remember the listing stating the property was on a hill, so I spot the nearest gravel road and decide to let fate take the wheel – passing between stone pillars (eventually marked with a florescent cross for better navigation) and forward unto my destiny.

I am not prepared, however, for the sudden turbulence. The van’s hydraulics sway and rock as I bounce across multiple cracks in the narrow road – perhaps traveling just a tad too fast for comfort – and the engine groans as I floor the accelerator to ascend the sudden steep hill. As I crest the worst of the incline, I let out a gentle sigh as the recognizable red silhouette of the lodge appears in view.

“Bravo-53 on-station; DZ clear. I'm settin' her down!”

After introducing myself to the oddly curt groundskeeper/brother-in-law of the property owners (whom is working at the nearby shed for reasons unknown) and performing a preliminary inspection of the property, I resume the work – pulling the van around to the rear door and unloading the delicate goods within. All the while, I can feel the prying eye of my groundskeeper guest, probably wondering what type of tomfoolery these damn city folk went to the trouble of renting a UHAUL van for.

It's not long before Discord pings again –

“Supply transport has landed.”

Through the rectangular windows of the event room, I catch streaks of orange and white flash by as Revenant and Fembot rumble past in their own UHAUL van. I immediately drop what I’m doing and move for the rear door to greet them. I’m met outside by two sunglass-sporting figures – Revenant in the driver seat with one midwestern elbow hanging out of the window and Fembot in the co-pilot seat. We exchange great hugs and great tales of the land of Buc-ee, then open up the large garage door at the rear of the event room. As we team-lift numerous boxes, large televisions, and even larger plastic totes into the event space, the groundskeeper’s car idles at the far end of the parking area. We can’t see his face through the shadowed windshield, but we all instinctively feel his leering eye upon us again. We eventually finish lugging everything inside and secure the garage door closed; the groundskeeper’s vehicle roars to life and speeds off down the gravel road, kicking up plumes of heavy dust as it grows smaller in the distance.

As we unpack and plot out the intended setup, the Discord pings chime off and on for an hour or so –

“The curved arrow will leave the ancient bow tomorrow at approximately 06:00.”
“Albatross Sierra November 058 inbound. ETA 120 mikes. Coming in heavy - need a clear LZ.”
“Unloaded troop transport STBM01 en route to temporary holding area Bloomington. Picking up stragglers on second leg.”

– until I receive an incoming call; it’s my friend and old-school Halo teammate, KG. Facing the same directional dilemma while trying to find the property, he’s continued down the wrong road and run smack-dab into a very creepy-looking, chained-closed cemetery gate – with seemingly no path forward or out. Eventually, after some navigational discussion, he’s found his way back to the stone pillars and braves the deathly ascent of the steep hill.

I welcome KG with a massive hug, as he is a massively tall man and deserving of a hug befitting his stature. As I begin to inquire about unloading his bags, I catch a glimpse of the shimmering equipment in the rear of his hatchback and pause; the mad lad has brought an entire mobile kitchen including a car-battery-powered cooler, a mobile cooking range, and his own freakin’ propane tank. He questions my incredulousness and declines my offer to help haul equipment inside, so I return to the lodge and at least identify the nearby bedroom as his personal staging ground and accommodations.

Within an hour or so, the remaining members of the pre-event crew arrive – our resident shutterbug Korny Munky and our local giggle-factory Syndrome. We put a pause on our activities to exchange welcomes, hugs, and tales of their great expedition north. Syndrome reveals that she’s woven friendship bracelets sporting each person’s gamertag for the event, and hands out those of the early arrivals.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening, we continue again the work – we outline the gameplan for the final setup, we stand and align tables, we station televisions and Xboxes, we wire ethernet cables and tape power cords to the floor, we erect frames and lights, we unfurl and hang signage, and slowly... the vision we’ve dreamed and collaborated on for months becomes reality. But for now, only a taste –

As the sun begins to wane and clouds roll over our heads, we break – our resident master chef begins dinner preparations while the rest of us take in the scenery (and mostly get out of the way to let the man cook).

We sit down in the rather spacious dining room, tired and slightly sweaty after hours of lifting and building, and are greeted with the heavenly aroma of delicious Korean Fried Chicken. What becomes a reoccurring theme and unanimously-held opinion throughout the weekend, chef KG presents us an immaculate meal with all the fixings and explains each dish. I do my best to pronounce Korean words. Revenant laments Korny filming everything. Syndrome explains her excitement with guttural cave-woman grunting. I’m content just being in the presence of family.

After dinner, there’s still much to do and we resume the work… albeit at a slightly more relaxed pace. Eventually, as the night grows darker and longer, and our eyelids become heavier, we say our ‘good nights’. I wander back to my room and, after grabbing a hot shower, collapse into bed. I drift off to sleep with a smirk on my face, dreaming of the secret event I still have planned for Saturday… one of which I’ve disclosed to very few persons.

FRIDAY
LOCAL CALENDAR: MAY 22, 2026
MILITARY CALENDAR: SEPTEMBER 21, 2552

My eyes slowly curl open to meet the hazy beige tint filtering in through the room’s skylight. I immediately recognize that, once again, I’ve awoken too early in the morning after going to sleep so late – more sunken cost toward my sleep deficit. I rise and shuffle toward the kitchen, my muscles slightly stiffer than I care to admit after the prior day’s construction. I find the kitchen door closed and with great care to avoid any squeaking, carefully rotate its handle to creep inside. I’m hit with the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and the sight of Fembot nursing her own cup. We sit in each other’s company and gentle discussion for a short while until each of our compatriots slowly shuffle in and breakfast becomes the pressing topic.

Meanwhile, both myself and Revenant slink off to continue the work – there are still last-minute furnishings to be built and finishing touches to be applied. While Fembot manages the kitchen, KG joins me in assembling additional seating before we both assist Revenant in setting up the last of the televisions and consoles. Throughout the morning and early afternoon, the Discord pings continue –

“The penguin has cooked the bacon - finding the elusive bird in 3 hours.”
“Be sure to level the grease flow on that bacon operation; we don't want our goose cooked prematurely.”
“Roger - the grease must flow.”
“You've got ODST reinforcements inbound on vector I-70”
“Good to hear, soldier. Stay on that vector; report any anomalies or deviations.”
“STBM01 - rolling heavy. ETA approximately 1 hour.”
“Good copy, STBM01 – stay on this frequency and keep the FOB updated.”

First of the day’s arrivals is Killhammer, brother of Bones and fellow early-day HBO forum lurker. After the traditional brotherly embrace, I whisk him off on a tour of the property and urge him to quickly claim one of the available bedrooms – lest he be relegated to the bunk-bed room with the child-cage, which is a story for another paragraph. We return to the kitchen area, and I use this opportunity to pass out a couple remaining ‘pre-event packets’ that weren’t able to ship ahead of time – which include an embroidered lanyard, multi-pass keycard, metro transit pass, and official travel orders.

The early morning quickly turns to early afternoon as I rush to assemble the ‘stage’ section of the event, consisting of my behemoth PC that I’ve lugged along from home, the lodge’s projector system, a large subwoofer and two connected speakers, and two controllable LED lamps. Amidst my construction efforts, two ne’er-do-well scallywags slip inside under my radar; having no time myself for their mischievous merrymaking, Revenant distracts Nart and Schooly D with his shiny wares. Once I’ve found a satisfactory stopping place – and am delivered a stern yet loving reminder from Fembot that I need to eat to continue surviving – I grab a bite of her melt-in-your-mouth pulled-pork sandwiches and break to welcome the dynamic duo.

[

Though I dare not show it, I’m ecstatic on the inside and I’m fighting to keep the boyish-glee from spilling out of me and onto the floor. In the past, both myself and Schooly have invited each other to gatherings over the years, but the timing and travel never seemed to work out. Now, I’m finally meeting the legend in the flesh. I’ve prepared for this moment; I’ve studied the appropriate material and I’m confident in my ability to execute. “Well, if it isn’t Schooly D,” I announce and accept his handshake, followed through with a manly embrace. I feel some slight hesitation, but I decide to commit for full shoulder-to-shoulder contact with a two-second hold to demonstrate that, though this man may not fully understand yet, he’s just become my brother and I care for him. That said, meeting your heroes is always a double-edged sword; I can’t help but momentarily echo the sentiments of a certain Spartan IV.

A short time later, the rear door adjacent the kitchen swings open and a wild Cadet appears, brandishing his UNSC cap and several large bags. A dedicated member of the 405th cosplay community’s Midwest chapter, Cadet carries with him the last puzzle pieces to complete our event setup. Unbeknownst to myself, however, he’s brought far more than the originally discussed items – the man has hauled an entire prop armory along with his cosplay. I drop what I’m doing to assist, and together we unpack and arrange the finishing touches.

As the afternoon passes into late afternoon, the sky darkens and a light rainstorm envelops the lodge – an omen of the approaching storm. Under the cover of dampness, another vehicle arrives and out disembark the trio of Stabbim, Malagate, and HBO’s own frontpage foreman Pixel Fox (fuchsdh). With greetings and great hugs established, the group settles their sleeping arrangements after the obligatory tour and settles their stomachs after some delicious grub. Revenant performs some preliminary testing and wrangles Microsoft account authentication issues. Malagate regales me with his recent Marathon raids. Schooly and Nart check the estimated worth of their most recent business ventures.

Stabbim
“One of my favorite moments was walking into the lodge and seeing so many familiar faces – many of whom I'd met, and a few I'd only seen pictures of online.”

Before long, I receive ‘the signal’ from Revenant; a gentle nod from across the room indicates we’re ready for action. We sequester our guests in the kitchen, so that we may capture final event setup photos and perform video run-throughs before the ‘official reveal’ and we unveil the blinding majesty upon them –

[

NOW ARRIVING
NEW INDIANAPOLIS, 2552
After a long inter-system journey aboard your civilian charter transport, you’ve touched down at the Great Lakes Spaceport located inside the Greater Chicagoland Industrial Zone. As an exclusive member of the invitational ‘Vidmaster’ program, you’ve traveled first-class and are quickly escorted to the high-speed rail platforms. Presenting your transit pass to the automated system and scanning your multipass ID badge at the entrance, you’re seated aboard Train153-B, bound for Circle Station in beautiful New Indianapolis – the heart and crossways of the Sol system. Stepping off onto the platform, you’re once again guided to Concourse A inside the station, and confirm your lodging accommodations at the Circle Station Continental Inn & Suites. Your luggage stowed and credentials once again verified, you wander out into Concourse A’s VIP lounge – baristas brew espresso at the nearby coffee shop, bartenders mix drinks and wrap warm pastries at the attached café, an ODST recruitment officer beckons visitors over to his enlistment booth, and Vidmasters browse the various exhibits while enjoying the event’s provided snacks and MREs.

STATION 1: MONITOR DISPLAYS AND FIELD TERMINALS
• 4 – 43” Televisions
• 4 – 55” Televisions
• 8 – Xbox Consoles

STATION 2: CIRCLE STATION TERMINAL
• Circle Station Navigation Directory
• New Indianapolis City Signage
• New Indianapolis Transit Authority Disposal Containers
• Coffee Shop & Café Display Signs
• UNSC Motivational & Enlistment Posters

STATION 3: BENCH & DISPLAYS
• Terminal Bench
• Terminal Planters
• Club Errera Advertisement
• HuCiv Advertisement
• Jotun Advertisement

TABLE 1: VIDMASTER GOODIES
• UNSC FMS (Field Meal Supplement): Individual Combat Rations
• Bottled Water provided by HiNOS Corporation
• UNSC ‘Anomalous Pink Rock’ Candies
• Event Cookies provided by the Neon Moon Midnight Café

TABLE 2: UNSC ORDNANCE & MILITARY LIBRARY EXHIBIT
• UNSC Field Terminal with AI-Data Chip Integration
• UNSC Type-14 Magnetic/Anti-Tank Mine (Deactivated)
• UNSC AI Display Pedestal
• Captured Covenant Type-33 Needler (Deactivated/Inert)
• Captured Covenant Type-25 Plasma Pistol (Deactivated/Inert)
• Captured Covenant ‘Grunt’ Totem
• Halo Warfleet Technical Manual
• Halo Encyclopedia – Civilian Reading Material
• Halo Community Evolved – Civilian Reading Material
• LAN Party – Civilian Reading Material
• Halo 405th Documents – Civilian Reading Material
• Personal Journal (C. Halsey)
• UNSC Heavy Field Crate

TABLE 3: ODST RECRUITMENT BOOTH
• ODST BDU/MK2 Amor Display
• ODST ‘Dragonflies’ Information Displays
• M808C Scorpion Tank Model
• ODST Recruitment Pamphlets
• ODST-branded Pens
• M7S Submachine Gun (Firing Pin Removed)
• M6C/SOCOM Handgun (Firing Pin Removed)
• MA37 Assault Rifle (Firing Pin Removed)
• ODST/MK2 Combat Helmet
• UNSC Medium Storage Crates
• UNSC Light Storage Crates
• Flood Infection Form

TABLE 4: UNSC ARMORY EXHIBIT
• Mjolnir Mark V Helmets
• Mjolnir Mark VI/RECON Helmet
• MA5C Assault Rifle (Firing Pin Removed)
• BR55 Battle Rifle (Firing Pin Removed)
• UNSC First Aid – Health Pack
• UNSC First Aid – Biofoam Canister
• Captured Covenant Type-1 Energy Sword (Caution: Active)
• UNSC ‘Legendary’ Display Plaque
• UNSC Mjolnir Mark V Statuette

Schooly D
“I'll never forget walking into the lodge for the first time and realizing this wasn't just a LAN; it was an event. Everything was so well-constructed and thoughtfully produced – from the custom signage to the props to the branded snacks/rations to the meticulously-arrayed battlestations. It was like stepping into a love letter from the fans to the fans, and I was awed.”

Stabbim
“I noticed the ‘New Indianapolis Waste Management’ custom trashcan graphics and realized the true extent of the effort put into this event!”

Traditionally, when hosting our previous LANs, the first day usually ended with very little actual Halo being played, serving instead as more of a travel and relaxation day ahead of the festivities. However, with network connections humming and Microsoft accounts properly drumming along, both myself and Revenant can feel the growing itch in the crowd. So, despite missing a few guests, we decide to play some ‘test matches’ to satiate the collective hunger, lest we be consumed instead. Doing so, we conclude, would allow us to get a proper skill-baseline for balancing teams, too. I decide to begin at the beginning, and load up free-for-all Slayer in Halo: CE. As I press the button to begin the countdown, I realize that I haven’t played Combat Evolved’s multiplayer via system link in close to twenty years.

Almost immediately, I can feel myself having fun. Though not wholly unexpected, it is a strange realization. I’ve played Halo for twenty-five years now, but there’s still something innately magical about the system-link experience; catching an unaware Schooly D with three rounds to the face, and seeing his brow furrow across the room, activates some dormant neuron in my brain to release what is certainly an unhealthy amount of oxytocin. Everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves just as much, but I don’t care – I’m too enraptured with trying to sneak up on and back-smack Revenant. I want to see the shame and humiliation in his eyes; payback for that damn hologram of yore.

After several games, we decide to break and begin dinner preparations. Myself and Stabbim use the downtime to take a few photos with props, Revenant and Fembot laugh at Instagram memes, and Nart discovers a secluded corner where he can find some peace. Shortly thereafter, we’re joined by the esteemed humorist Professor Bonkle.

The growing storm outside gathers and rises to a crescendo – a thunderous clap, announcing the arrival of the last of our scheduled guests; Padraig and Snipe emerge from the berth. I’m giddy and terrified at the same time; if you’ve never met Paddy, he’s less a man and more a force of nature. If you have, you understand these words innately. And yet, greater men than I couldn’t help having fallen in love with his beautiful chaos. To borrow a quote from our dear Revenant, “No HBO LAN is complete until Paddy arrives.”

As the welcoming party swarms for hugs and laughs, I frantically search among the boisterousness for my promised prize. After claiming to do “literally whatever it takes to make this happen” the prior week and driving over 10 hours in this single day, Padraig delivers the most elusive of prey; Snipe steps out from behind the entanglement of bodies.

In as deep a register I can muster, I shout his name and embrace him – for this is a momentous occasion. From the humble beginnings of our group’s first gathering, every year for four years did we attempt to persuade his Snipeness to travel south from his ivory tower and bless us with his headshots… and every year did we face disappointment. But alas, standing before me now in his appropriately-branded Xbox vestments did remain proof of the Guardians’ good graces.

[

As the group settles in and swaps tales of travel, we again provide the obligatory tour and eventually gather in the bunk-bed room with the aforementioned child-cage. A seemly-quirky addition to the lodge, a low-ceiling playpen lays beyond the bedroom through a tiny door and overlooks the kitchen area. While laughing and cracking jokes, I reveal my discovery that the tiny door locks on the outside – and the mood turns slightly sour as we decide we’d rather be elsewhere.

As the day marches into evening, we break for the classic all-American dinner of chips and cheeseburgers – pre-smoked on the home grill of KG’s generous father and finalized on the local grill by the master chef himself. Seated round the enormous wooden dining table, discussion drifts back to the HBO forum – how we came to find each other online, first posts and first impressions, old forum members and hilarious posts of the past, the Schrodinger-esque existence of the ‘Front Page’, and of course the copious memes that have arisen from such a hive of nerdery and scum.

Schooly D
“I'll remember the first dinner Friday night fondly, too – when all the attendees sat down together and swapped stories and experiences. I felt immediately familiar with people I hadn't met before, owing to our shared love for this game and the community that surrounds it. Going into the event, I expected it would be a fun weekend… but during that dinner, it was confirmed.”

As dinner plates empty and conversation comes to a resting place, I assist KG with clearing the tables while Revenant ushers the group to the event space seating; I’ve prepared a little activity of my own for this evening. Instructed to split into three teams, I arrive to find the following groups ready –

Red Team
Revenant, Killhammer, Cadet, Bonkle, & KG

Blue Team
Schooly, Snipe, Paddy, & Nart

Grey Team
Pixel Fox, Korny Munky, Malagate, & Stabbim

– for Halo Jeopardy! With my two judges of Fembot and Syndrome primed on the rules, I pass out personal buzzers to each of the team captains. With the click of my mouse, the screen displays the first-round categories:

WHAT’S THIS?
Identify the proper name of the Halo object shown on screen.

CUT CONTENT
Identify the clue from questions based around content cut prior to the series title’s release.

FINISH THE PHRASE
Identify the remaining unfinished lines of the famous Halo series quote shown on screen.

MULTIPLAYER MAPS
Identify the name of the multiplayer map based on an image that represents its title.

ACTIONSACK
Identify the clue from a grab-bag of random questions without a specific category.

COMPETITIVE
Identify the clue from questions revolving around Halo’s longest-lasting and clearly most important community

As the first team selects their category, I smirk and chuckle to myself. While researching and assembling the questions for this little game, my primary goal was to provide entertainment; I didn’t want the questions to be so difficult as to kill any opportunity for enjoyment or success. Still, the little goblin troll that roosts in the depths of my soul must be, at times, satiated. And thus, I devised what I believed to be some deliciously devious clues.

It had been almost ten years since our last gathering, and for some of us, the Halo universe had fallen to the wayside – never forgotten, but certainly not residing at the same level of engagement. However, knowing that many of the assembled forum-goers had, at some point in the past, an encyclopedic knowledge of the Halo games and universe, I did my best to balance the difficulty as the point-values increased.

As I read off the first question, my mind is tense with the excitement of seeing how close to the target my estimation will land. My heart hopes dearly that the spirit of competition will result in tense discussion and joyous outbursts. My little goblin troll waits anxiously to feed on their confusion and dismay upon realizing their ill-begotten mistaken answers.

No part of me is left wanting.

The first round sees Red Team squeak out an early lead with some solid answers in the ‘Normal’ and ‘Heroic’ level values –

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

– only to be to slightly overtaken by Blue Team and Grey Team mid-round. Grey Team pulls ahead with several high-scoring answers in the ‘Actionsack’ and ‘Finish the Phrase’ categories, including immediately matching the Gravemind quote word-for-word, of which I was positive would stumble my contestants –

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

– but Blue Team gains some ground toward the end of the round by clearing most of the ‘Competitive’ category and cleaning up multiple lower-to-middle scoring questions across the board.

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

Much to my chagrin, Blue Team’s Schooly D and Nart fail to identify the correct competitive map, while much to my absolute surprise and shame, Snipe instantly name-checks what I thought to be one of the most difficult questions of the entire game!

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

In what becomes one of the prevailing memes of the entire LAN, I’m given the answer “Covenant Light” to the following question. Having done hours of extensive research, fact-checked myself with numerous Halopedia articles, and previously decided to be mildly-pedantic in acceptance of answers, I humbly and earnestly request the contestant to “please be more specific” before waiting just a heartbeat and generously deciding to accept the given answer. Well, bless my starships, would you believe the level of incredulousness and sarcasm that did arise from this crowd! You’d think they’d never had to defend their position in a debate before!

I’m certain the authors of the Halopedia article would have sided with me; the Covenant weren’t just vacationing on the ring, after all.

Again to my chagrin, all three teams – comprised entirely of men – struggle far too long with the following clue; the two female non-contestant judges squirm and wriggle in their seats unbearably, unable to help their clueless compatriots.

(Click the image to see the answer.)

My inner goblin troll tastes his first meal of the evening; after an initial round of three incorrect answers from the teams, I offer half-points and allow another round of attempts. One contestant meekly postulates the map ‘Ascension’ as the final answer, and my goblin slurps up the tears when I relay the ‘incorrect’ verdict. “You fool! You’ve fallen right into my trap!” he croaks, “You think I’d choose Ascension for the Mythic-level question?!” Quite the ruckus erupts when the answer is revealed.

(Click the image to see the answer.)

The peanut gallery begins to rabble, boasting and celebrating too early for victories not yet achieved – until I reveal that the game is still afoot, for the much harder second round is upon them. A deafening silence falls over the room as the teams lock-in for the challenge ahead. My goblin licks his lips.

The categories are thus revealed.

CUT CONTENT II
Identify the clue from questions based around content cut prior to the series title’s release.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS
Identify which Halo character spoke the on-screen quote before their demise.

WHO’S THIS?
Identify the name of the Halo character shown on screen from a series of choices.

CAMPAIGN MISSIONS
Identify the name of the multiplayer map based on an image that represents its title.

WRITER’S MIND
Identify the clue from questions regarding the Halo novelizations and lore.

IWHBYD
Identify which Halo character spoke the on-screen voiceline quote.

The second round opens with teams going for the throat; they believe they’ve caught-on to the category gimmicks and rush the higher-level questions on the board – only to realize too late the spike in ‘Mythic’ and ‘LASO’ difficulty. Several questions conclude without a correct answer despite offering clues and half-points, and teams double-back to the ‘Normal’ and ‘Heroic’ questions to gain ground.

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

Despite some valiant point attempts from Red Team, including Revenant almost immediately nailing a ‘Campaign Map’ clue I’d thought would be punishingly difficult –

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

– Grey Team shoots ahead in the early game, cleaning up solid-scoring questions in the ‘Writer’s Mind’ and ‘Who’s This?’ categories. However, much like the first round, Blue Team remains in hot pursuit of their score and manages to overtake them by mid-round.

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

(Click the image to see the answer.)

Much ado in vein of the previous ‘Paradiso’ debacle, Blue Team quickly and decisively buzzes in with the answer to the below ‘Campaign Missions’ clue; anticipating easy points and a quick return to the category board. The poor sods are immediately dumbstruck – some might even say blinded – by the firm retort of ‘incorrect’ that I hand down to them. Bewildered, the foursome tries to reason, try to wrestle with the reality they now find themselves within; I witness in real-time the five stages of grief processed in a matter of seconds as their blunder overwhelms them.

A wave of clenched facial muscles and upturned expressions washes across the group’s faces, roiling for several moments more. My goblin licks the sweat from their glistening brows.

Suddenly, a buzzer from across the room breaks the unnerving silence – Red Team. Stealing both their points and their dignity, they snatch the clue away from Blue Team with the correct answer. The room explodes in a cacophony of swears and groans. Paddy and Snipe bemoan the injustice of our world, Schooly tries to appeal to my reason, arguing the semantics of what constitutes a campaign mission. Nart threatens legal action. They are all sorely disappointed when the judgement stands.

My inner goblin howls. “You know you’ve done something right,” he assures me, “when you rile up Nart enough to curse you out!”

(Click the image to see the answer.)

After some high-scoring back-to-back steals, Blue Team has rallied from their earlier humiliation and shot ahead of the pack, positioning themselves in a comfy place to wager on the Final Jeopardy question. The final category is revealed and the teams scribble down their bets.

(Click the image to see the answer.)

As the three-columned list of starship names cascades down the screen, my gaze wanders over to the gallery of illuminated faces; eyes widen, facial expressions stiffen, and a soft ‘oh shit’ drifts from one of the contestant’s lips. I announce the beginning of the round and start the 90-second timer; as each team huddles to confer, hushed discussion fills the room. The Halo Encyclopedia displayed just so serendipitously on the nearby table, brimming with an entire glossary of UNSC Starship names, remains undisturbed.

Surprisingly, all three teams manage to identify two of the three imposters, but with all three correct answers, the Final Jeopardy question is won by Blue Team. And, having had the points to wager large, their final score places them far and above the rest of the pack. With clapping and congratulations abound, Blue Team wins only applause and admiration – mostly because the thought to award prizes for this completely friendly and non-competitive activity never occurred to me. I vow to be better prepared in the future.

Bonkle
“My favorite moment was actually all the little moments in-between together. Whether it was a multitude of new LAN memes popping up or the laughter ringing throughout the cabin as we all enjoyed each other’s company again after what felt like ages.”

Per earlier request, I concede the stage to Paddy and find a nearby seat. He’s prepared a special treat for everyone, what he admitted to me in private as “his best work yet” and one which continues a legacy of previous ‘hype videos’ (featuring a progressively more and more unhinged storyline). As he leans over to start the video, I make peace with the fact that I have absolutely no idea what to expect –

(See the full, high-resolution video here.)

As the night winds down, several guests say their ‘good-nights’ and head off for their beauty sleep while others break out into smaller groups for late night chit-chat. Much like any good ship captain touring his vessel before battle, I perform the rounds to ensure the property is secured and everyone is accommodated for the night. Satisfied, I retreat to the far side of the lodge and back inside the attached secluded suite; command has its privileges and its own bathroom. I open the walk-in closet and perform a cursory inspection of the classified materials therein – everything seems to be in place and ready for the next day’s evening. I am satisfied once more, flick off the light, and crawl into bed underneath the covers. Through the wall, I can still hear the muffled laughter and chatter of guests with more resilient constitutions than myself; I smile and am thankful that everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. I feel the weight of my eyelids begin to burden my facial muscles and I stop resisting; I allow the hypnotically-rhythmic chorus of ‘Bones Indy LAN’ to lullaby me into a gentle dream.

SATURDAY
LOCAL CALENDAR: MAY 23, 2026
MILITARY CALENDAR: SEPTEMBER 22, 2552

In an instant, I’m awake and alert. The room remains shrouded in darkness, the only sensory input being that of the little chirping birds beyond my window. I exhale an exasperated sigh, for I know this dance all too well; my body has decided I’m awake and there’s no reversing that decision no matter how much I beg and plead. I fumble for my phone in the blackness, find purchase, and squint through the blurriness filtering to my eyeballs – 06:00 stares back at me. Yet more hours donated to the sleep deficit jar.

I rise in acceptance of my fate and conclude that I might as well use the early hours to my benefit. I waddle out to the mini-fridge in my suite’s adjoining room, crack open a cold can of caffeine, treat myself to just a few decadent sips of the forbidden nectar, and head back to my spacious personal bathroom. After a leisurely shave and a long morning shower, I return to the vanity and – with the precision of a surgeon – trim my moustache to military perfection. I have an important date with destiny tonight, and I want to make damn sure I look my best.

The morning hours see me organizing and prepping prizes for the day’s events, reviewing the gametype playlist with Revenant, enjoying some wonderful breakfast and conversation with friends, and locking down food preparations for lunch with our resident chefs. With all guests in attendance in a mostly coherent state, we gather everyone in the event room and review the day’s schedule. I expand upon the narrative and lore behind our event and outline the first activity – spending some time soaking in the sweet details. Inspired by the Halo: Outpost Discovery installations hosted by Microsoft and Halo Studios, I wanted to offer a similar if not smaller experience with our setup and decorations. Along with just playing some great games together, I wanted to give my guests a slice of that universe.

And with that, we’re back in New Indianapolis, the entrance to Circle Station’s ‘Concourse A’ welcoming its guests to the event space. Sounds of the bustling terminal fill the room – the laughter of friends, the cries of children, the rolling of luggage along the floor, and the warbles of intercom announcements echo in the background. The station’s display monitor on the far wall rotates through its content packet of promotional and advertisement material, and the recruitment officer at the nearby ODST booth lures visitors in with the promise of free swag. Myself and a few fellow cosplayers sport our New Indianapolis Transit Authority polos, ushering our very important persons to explore the exhibits, inspect and handle the props, pose for photos and selfies, and share laughs.

Eventually, Revenant gains some high-ground and uses his ‘big boy’ voice to heard everyone outside for the customary and ceremonial group photo.

With Revenant’s continued dedication, I wrangle everyone back to the seating area for a special message from our sponsor – myself. My effort is two-fold; I want to ensure that everyone knows each guest’s gamertag (in the off chance they weren’t able to meet and chat with everyone the previous day) as well as take the opportunity to essentially glaze everyone with compliments, with stories about how I met them, and with appreciation for their attendance. “Why,” you my dear reader may ask, “why shower love and affection, after allowing my inner goblin troll to absolutely devastate their fragile emotions the evening last?” Why is there darkness between the light? Why do thunderstorms bring life-sustaining rains? Why do my enemies’ hitbox not register my perfect headshots? Balance – balance, in all things, my dear reader. After aligning the group’s chakras into a most harmonious state, I lower the lights and play the actual ‘special message’ for which I’d gathered everyone together.

With cheers abound and the mood appropriately set, we rise and assume our battlestations. Nestled on the far side of the table, host and co-host confer with their playlist gameplan and begin again with Halo: Combat Evolved.

I must confess – much of the afternoon after this point becomes a blur; controller-clenching firefights, inventively-colorful insults, eclectic meme callbacks, escalating shouts of enemy locations, and the gentle repetitive ‘doot-doot-doot’ of the respawn timer counting down swirl in my memory. As with any well-planned event, the playlist we’d agonized over compiling weeks ago is almost immediately thrown away and cannibalized for the most memorable map and gametype combinations. Though far from a complete record of the battles raged across the ringscape that afternoon, I’ll do my best to put words to the carnage that occurred and share a memory from each.

Halo: Combat Evolved
FFA Slayer Pro on Prisoner
I spawn low on the first floor, tucked just inside one of the alcoves, and immediately press the ‘Y’ button. The hefty, metallic ‘cha-chunk’ of my Spartan racking the M6D’s slide floods my veins with adrenaline. While others might consider sixteen players on Prisoner to be confining, it’s nothing but a target rich environment for yours truly. I scan my surroundings ahead and immediately find my target on the second-level catwalk. Three rounds later and I’m beginning to remember the subtle intricacies of the venerable hand cannon’s feel on local network; the silky-smooth trigger cadence and gentle reticle lead begins to feel second-nature again. Bodies drop and grenades fly, sending the numerous corpses that litter the ground flopping into the walls. The arena becomes a meat-grinder as many players switch to the assault rifle and charge, hoping they can outpace bouncing grenades and close for the melee. Some are successful, many are flung on graceful arcs to the floors below. In the end, Snipe or Nart or someone else eeks out the win, probably due to spawn-camping or grenade-spamming or whatever.

Snipers Only on Boarding Action
I spawn with rifle in hand, and am immediately scanning the opposite decks for movement. I quickly sight my first target two floors above and land a round to their chest; I’m momentarily surprised when the rifle recoil doesn’t so much as cough and my reticle remains mostly on target. I finish off my long-range ambush with another round to their chest and, much like our resident namesake sniper, decide to go for kills rather than headshots. I spend the rest of the match firing two-round groupings, enjoying the cat-and-mouse vibe of the match as players scramble between teleporters and navigate the ladders.

2-Flag CTF on Blood Gulch
In what becomes possibly the standout match of the weekend, I’m assigned to Blue Team and spawn at the far end of the gulch – in an instant, I’m home. Untold hours spent in this box canyon come surging back all at once, rushing from my amygdala to the pre-frontal cortex; I’m maneuvering through the hills toward the center in attempt to control rocket spawn and callout any encroaching ‘hog rushes. I hear the staccato cracks of sniper fire and spot Schooly’s contrails drifting overhead; he’s cleared the canyon wall and surrounding grasslands for me. I’m slinking toward the rocket spawn, being careful to maintain concealment by keeping the lone brush between myself and the teleporter exit. I’m within arm’s reach of the rockets, seconds away from scooping them up to deliver fiery death upon the incoming warthog trio and –

– I’m gunned down in half-a-second flat by two Red Team campers hiding in the shadows of the canyon-side, their pistol muzzles belching smoke as my lifeless corpse whirls to the dirt. I exclaim a cuss.

After multiple failed Warthog runs, brutal give-and-take advances along both Blue Team’s cavern and Red Team’s cliffside, and several flag pulls from both sides that crushingly end in swift returns, Revenant’s gaze catches mine and we discern that perhaps we’ve balanced teams too well. Somewhere in the distance, Schooly astutely remarks that the match has evolved into our own version of ‘Epic CTF’ – the famously timer-less version championed by the TSD community back in the days of Reach. The absence of the Scorpion, Ghost, and Banshee vehicles, eschewed in favor of a more classic vibe, has limited the likelihood of large swings in combat flow, too. That is, until a dastardly charlatan on the Blue Team blows the dust off an old chestnut straight from the grifter’s playbook.

Malagate
“One of my favorite memories has to be blocking the teleporter on Blood Gulch to secure the CTF win!”

After heroically fighting off multiple attackers to hold the middle, I respawn on the top of Blue Base and gather my bearings. I triumphantly rally my compatriots and make for the teleporter and – nothing happens. I sincerely believe for several moments that my console has frozen or the network connection has failed; I sit patiently awaiting the black screen that’s sure to follow and anticipate the groans that will fill the room. Bamboozled, the shifting dazzling lights at the bottom of my screen rouse me from my stupor; my teammate KG is still engaged in a ruthless brawl near Red Team’s teleporter exit.

“They’ve… they’ve blocked the teleporter,” spills out of my incredulous lips. In the far-flung recesses of my dusty old braincase, a forgotten book breaks through its cobwebbed netting and falls open on the creaky floorboards, the pages flittering before finally resting open; the words scribbled on the page laid bare detail the ancient ‘legitimate strategy’. I’m immediately enraged by the sheer disgusting guile, the insidious treachery of the act. Who needs enemies with guests like these?

I can’t dispute the effectiveness of their duplicitous tactic, however, as map control shifts favorably toward Red Team and pushes the majority of combat engagements to the large hill and surrounding areas around Blue Base. Despite several attempts to dislodge it, the Warthog remains firmly in place for much of the remaining match; only too late is the obstacle finally removed and a few half-hearted runs attempted.

As the thirty-minute timer hits zero, we end the match – much to Malagate’s mistaken memory – in a resounding draw. I’m both physically and mentally drained after such a white-knuckle affair; the compulsory blood sacrifice to the capture-the-flag deities is spilled early in the event. We decide to break for lunch and indulge in the incredibly delicious White Chicken Chili that’s been marinading in the slow-cooker into the afternoon. It’s life-giving proteins and hearty spices both heal my spirit and mend my broken fingers.

[

Meanwhile, Paddy and Bonkle clandestinely inflate what will eventually become our LAN mascot. Nart proclaims aloud passages from the good book of Buc. Schooly supplements his lunch with questionable side-dishes. We all devour the remaining donuts, save for one very important pastel pastry. Killhammer returns to his station with a most exotic drinking flask, unaware of the associated deep lore from past HBO LAN events.

[

Halo 2
FFA Slayer BRs on Ascension
As with Combat Evolved, we begin our foray into the sequel with another free-for-all match to knock off the rust and warm-up our dormant muscle memory. Much like Prisoner, the carnage is fast and fierce with this many players crammed into the map, but there’s a beautiful chaos to the action. With my respawns relegated to the lower bridge and low-lying surroundings, I spend most of the match attempting to storm the tower – which remains an absolute meat grinder of bullets and grenades.

2-Flag CTF on Containment
Per special request by Revenant, we load up our own heavies-variant on one of the title’s best downloadable content entries. Brimming with Warthogs, Gauss Hogs, Banshees, and Scorpion tanks, the map intends to offer the very best of the Big Team Battle experience. The round begins and I’ve spawned at the base of the barrier wall, the large ramp leading up to the Banshee spawn looms before me. I ascend to board the alien death machine and immediately gun the boosters, arching high across the ice fields and hugging the rock outcropping along the edge. I utilize the Banshee’s hover to basically cling to the rock face; an iridescent spider awaiting his unwitting prey. I hear the low rumble of four treads plodding just beyond, so I swing the nimble aircraft around the cliffside and perfectly align my crosshairs on the enemy Scorpion – my thumb hammers the ‘B’ button and spits fiery green death upon the cornered combatant. Except, nothing happens. Dumbfounded for a moment, my Banshee drifts lazily through the air on a direct collision course with the tank. I smash the button twice more before the realization collides with my befuddled consciousness – Halo 2’s incarnation of the Banshee doesn’t have the fuel rod cannon in multiplayer. I thrust my joystick backward and throttle my boosters in attempt to escape, but the Scorpion’s turret has already pivoted and blows me out of the sky.

Team Slayer BRs on Lockout
In an attempt to inject some variety into our weekend’s playlist and appease our competitive spirit, we split into two separate four-versus-four matches several times throughout the day. In this particular instance, I convince Revenant to join me in a fool’s errand; I know that the TSD boys have been secretly clamoring to ride into glorious battle together, and we’ve been forcing them apart to balance teams. We decide to ‘let the dogs have their day’, and fudge the team numbers for this match-up. Inevitably, it’s ‘Team Hardcore’ versus ‘Team Mid-core’ – Schooly, Nart, Snipe, and Paddy take on Revenant, KG, myself, and Cadet.

I spawn low in the grav-lift room, my least favorite location, and immediately clamber toward the three-story tower. The battle rifle bursts come fast and hard, but I’m able to hold my own and escape thanks to some clever footwork. I surprise even myself by surviving a few encounters with Schooly and Nart, and my team is able to gain a foothold on the tower rooftop and surrounding walkways. We succeed in pinning Team Hardcore near the sniper tower for a short time, using our tower’s walls to bait and evade sniper fire, but are eventually dislodged by a successful flank. Once we lose the three-story tower, we never gain it back and spend the rest of the match eating rounds from above. Ultimately, by the time the scoreboard posts our ratios on-screen, those darn rotten TSD boys have us beat by at least fifteen or so kills.

Stabbim
“I’ll never forget winning a battle rifle dual against Schooly once; he killed me pretty much every other time he spotted me, but still!”

In-between the commotion, two more guests arrive for an afternoon visit – InvertedJoy and Vondey. Foundational members of my family’s local Halo crew, the combined hours we spent playing campaign co-op and split-screen are innumerable. As I greet them and briefly show them around between matches, my mind flashes back to our younger selves spending hours performing Warthog launches across the Silent Cartographer Island that would make Randall Glass proud.

1-Bomb Assault on Terminal
I spawn in the maintenance garage with the rest of Blue Team and beeline for the Warthog. As I shoulder the heavy burden of both inspiring team leader and essential bomb carrier, I astutely identify the very important, very deadly enemy Wraith tucked into the rear corner of the courtyard. With plenty of time to swing his Gauss cannon abroad, I politely inform Paddy to cover his left flank as the Warthog swings around the bend – and continue to watch in horror as he first shoots an unmanned, parked Ghost and then unloads rounds into the nearby enemy wall.

The alternating offensive and defensive rounds see a variety of strategies evolve to break the opposing team’s onslaught. Snipe becomes an insufferable menace by camping the higher-level defender spawn zones. Schooly and myself attempt to rally our team and retake the parking garage’s upper floor. InvertedJoy and Bonkle turn the underground passageways into a butcher shop with their energy swords. Korny Munky sneaks into our base on multiple occasions, spying on our tactical positioning and thwarting our bomb defusals with timely callouts. Syndrome is splattered by high-speed commuter travel.

Nart
“For me, my favorite moment would be loading into the best Halo game (Halo 2) for a match of the best gametype (asymmetric objective, in this case, one bomb) on one of the all-time greatest maps for the best gametype (Terminal) – hearing the slightly syncopated buzz of the ambience coming from sixteen gamers on eight screens, the woosh of the train in the pre-round preview screen, the announcer telling us what to do, and the chatter of teammates trying to organize a gameplan. Then, the old neural pathways firing up and somehow still remembering where that pile of grenades is, how to make that jump, the best ways to actually win the damn game, and how amazing it is that this much fun was actually just right there waiting for us all to make time to go have it.”

Team Phantoms on Backwash
While my heart believes this combination to be a remnant from Halo 2’s ‘Action Sack’ playlist during the Xbox Live heyday, my brain can’t seem to conjure a concrete memory as such. Regardless, this ridiculous match-up found new life when we attempted to play during our first HBO LAN back in 2012, but ended up being a stuttering mess due to poor Xbox 360 emulation. When brainstorming the playlist for this event, I knew this might be my last opportunity to rectify past mistakes – and how! With blinding bolts of blue and red plasma fire streaking through the darkness, the murky swamp slowly transforms into a dazzling kaleidoscope of death and yet the framerate remains buttery-smooth.

Emerging from the forerunner structure’s recessed ramp, my teammates circle left around the edge of the bowl-shaped bog while I duck between the bulbous trees and charge the center. The eerie silence is broken just as I secure an additional brute plasma rifle and swing in from the flank; I’m momentarily stunned by the volley of flashing light and strain to discern friend from foe in the crossfire that’s engulfed the gloomy trench. My answer is to just start blasting into the fog and sort it out later, which proves successful in stopping the enemy’s initial push with only a single fatality from my friendly-fire. I deem that a price I’m willing to pay.

Team ‘Noob Combo’ on Colossus
Serving as one of the prize rounds later on in the day, I task the group to choose a partner for Multi-Team Slayer. The catch? One member of the two-person team can only use the Plasma Pistol, while the other only their Battle Rifle. I’ve chosen Fembot as my battle-buddy and volunteer to spearhead the charge (literally) with my trusty green bolt-caster.

Despite some early pains with a few dubious duos – who were allegedly confused on their weapon assignments – and threatening to “turn this LAN around”, the match proceeds to be much more chaotic and entertaining than I’d originally imagined. In a turn of amusement, Fembot and myself end up being thrown around and separated whilst fighting amid the large central gravity lift, attempting to reconnect between all the incoming battle rifle bursts and laughter.

Halo 3
2-Flag CTF on Valhalla
I spawn with Red Team near the lakebed beam tower and jump into the grounded Banshee. In an attempt to apply early pressure on Blue Team, I hit the boosters and arch into a tight turn. I soar around the cave entrance and over the crashed Pelican, leveling out only to make slight adjustments in trajectory before hitting the boosters again. Anticipating the incoming barrage of missiles, I’m unfazed by the incessant ringing of the warning alarm indicating the enemy’s missile pod is locked-on. My hands tense as I spot the incoming plumes and prepare to execute the lateral flip maneuver that will dodge the initial salvo. I hold for just a heartbeat and then press the ‘A’ button with immaculately-timed precision – only to execute the laziest of sluggish rolls, gently turning end-over-end, only able to watch in utter dismay as the missiles course correct toward me. It’s only as the flaming canopy falls to the dirt along with my tumbling corpse do I remember that the Halo 3 Banshee’s aerial acrobatics pale in comparison to the speed and gracefulness of its Reach counterpart.

Team Slayer ODST on Waterfall
Spawning on the frigid balcony of the research station’s upper deck, I splinter off with several other teammates and advance along the outer walkways; we brandish our suppressed submachine guns and suppressed magnums, checking corners as we clear rooms. With no shields, no motion trackers, and the headshot damage multiplier disabled, we’re forced to prioritize flanking, team-shooting, and effective communication to win engagements. In the distance, three of the distinctive red ‘X’ icons flash across my peripheral vision and I frown; we won’t be receiving any respawned reinforcements in this single-life gametype and the odds might have just stacked against us.

After catching two opponents off-guard and dropping them at distance, I duck behind an alcove and wait. Just above the rushing sound of the nearby waterfall – an apt name for this originally ‘Halo Online’ map that was later ported into the Master Chief Collection – I can make out the clanging of heavy boots on metal grating. I prime and toss my single grenade, bouncing it off the adjacent wall and into the other room. One rattling explosion and two flying corpses later, I round the corner and pre-fire as I cross the threshold – caseless rounds ricochet off the corner struts before finding their mark and cutting down the last enemy contact. Alternating muffled coughs from my squadmates’ magnums discharge off to my left and a sharp yelp rings out in the distance. “Round over,” announces Steitzer.

Donner Party on Avalanche
On several occasions throughout the afternoon, the muffled chant of ‘don-ner-par-tee, don-ner-par-tee’ rises above the ambient commotion between games. Eventually, Revenant and I decide to indulge and pass the party leader responsibilities to Schooly D. Unknowingly, we’ve signed-up for several rounds of an Infection-based scenario amongst the snowy drifts of Avalanche; the survivors must make a desperate break across the open ice fields to reach the lone defendable outpost, all the while pursued by the slightly faster and slightly floatier undead. With shocks and laughs abound, the gametype was so nice we decide to play it twice.

Halo 3: ODST
Floodfight on Lost Platoon
Splitting into two eight-player firefight lobbies, we decide to engage the Flood en masse and appreciate two of the best features that Halo Studios incorporated into the Master Chief Collection. As myself and Revenant configure the settings and begin our matching sessions, several protests bubble up through the chatter –

“Floodfight? What’s that mean?”
“Wait! Stop the countdown! We haven’t split into teams yet!”
“What? We can play with eight players?”

Indeed, my sweet summer children. As my screen fades from black to the putrid green haze that permeates the African air, I volunteer as wheelman and jump into the driver seat of the nearby Warthog. Tearing across the terrain and through combat forms alike, we carve a path around the perimeter for several rounds – that is, until the flood pure forms and ghost-driving combat forms start showing up. After getting chewed up by high-speed barb fire from ranged forms, I recklessly execute a sharp turn around a corner to escape and drift right into the waiting carrier form. One explosive ‘pop’ later and our once indomitable machine of death is now careening through the air, tumbling end-over-end before striking the concrete wall and spewing flames. Those not immediately crushed by the collision are cut down as they attempt to limp away from the writhing blitzkrieg of flesh popcorn.

Halo Reach
Invasion on The Hushed Apprentice
Listen, everyone knew this was coming – you don’t host your own event and not play the premiere and arguably best Invasion experience available in Halo Reach. I have standards. What everyone may not have known, however, is that I’d impressively improved upon perfection and reworked several capture zones, as well as adding an additional flanking route near a common chokepoint, all in celebration for this occasion.

As the round begins, I’m pleased to hear that someone notices and is left impressed by the Pelican dropships I’ve added to the attacker spawn, giving off that little extra bit of ambiance. I’m less pleased that no one seems to notice any of the other stellar additions I’ve made, and I’m even less impressed by my team’s performance; we’re barely able to hold off the enemy from capturing our core. To add insult to injury, we’re skunked at the last minute during our attack despite myself holding-off most of the defending team single-handedly. I make a second vow to institute some sort of TrueSkill rating system prior to my next shindig.

Invasion on Sangheili Don’t Surf
In honor of legacy hosts past, I queue up an ol’ Bluerunner original and favorite Invasion entry from the days of Reach. In anticipation of the ‘great forge map migration’ that occurred when Halo Reach launched for the Master Chief Collection, I made sure to save a copy to my fileshare for automatic conversion to the new formatting. Thankfully, my preparation proved fruitful and we were able to enjoy this modern classic again seven years later.

It appears that Father Time has done nothing to aid the group’s memory strategy-wise, though; piloting the Falcon for the attackers, I dominate the skies with my two door-gunners and effortlessly evade the slow-moving plasma bolts from the stationary turrets. It seems that I’m the only player who remembers the location of the hillside Plasma Launcher – which I wield with impunity on defense to cut down three or four enemy Falcons before they catch on. While we were ultimately stonewalled while trying to arm the second-phase bomb on offense, my team returns the favor and then some by skunking them during our defender round.

Paddy
“Rarely in this life do you get to dream fondly of the past and then get to see it just as it was all those years ago. My kill-death-ratio may tell you I haven't played Halo in a long, long time – but the cheers and jeers of my true friends would tell you we haven't missed a beat. It's sad they stopped making Halo after Reach...”

With the sands of Forge Island successfully defended, we break for dinner. With plenty of mouth-watering pulled pork and white chicken chili leftovers, along with additional food brought by Syndrome and Korny Munky, I leave the group to graze and withdraw back to my suite to gather prizes and make final preparations for the evening’s surprise.

[

I return to the event space and turn on the lodge’s projector once more. In continuation with the in-universe storyline alluded to with my announcement back in December, I allow a small crowd to be drawn in by the sights and sounds of these special messages –

While the original concept involved spacing these alerts out throughout the afternoon and in-between Halo games, keeping everything running smoothly thus far has occupied much of my time and I resort to playing them back-to-back here. It’s less ideal than I’d hoped and leaves behind some of the tension and atmosphere that I’d wanted to build, but I remind myself that hosts must remain attuned to their audience’s needs. The city alerts conclude and I double-click to start the ‘second course’ of my narrative experience, gently increasing the volume nob on the speakers as the video appears.

The hustle and bustle inside Circle Station suddenly drop and give way to hushed tones, which are eventually overpowered by the rising emergency sirens that crescendo in now deafening reverberance. The station dims dramatically before backup generators kick-on to power emergency and egress lighting; the sky outside follows suite, as black clouds swirl menacingly and darken the horizon. The large display screen flickers to life; the city’s Superintendent-AI ‘Skully’ displays a direct feed from the CCTV systems stationed around New Indianapolis. The station’s guests can feel the dull, bellowing vibrations before the rumbling echoes reach them – sounds of invasion. As the UNSCDF garrison stationed ground-side engages the enemy, the city’s defensive batteries and cannons open up –

To cap off the day’s regularly-scheduled gaming, we participate in several ‘party-themed’ prize rounds for the next hour, with both winners and losers scoring prizes ranging from Covenant-themed sticker packs to high-quality prints to signed copies of Leviathan’s recent novelization cover art.

As the light outside begins to wane and I check the clock on my phone, Fembot and Revenant approach me with serendipitous intent; the time has come. We quickly delineate each person’s required tasks, after which I quietly slink away and abscond back to my quarters once more. Despite the last few days’ worth of sleep debt having rapidly caught up with me, my heartbeat quickens as I open the closet door and begin reassembling the aforementioned classified materials.

Back in the event room, my co-host gathers our unwitting guests and proclaims that three team captains shall be chosen. Murmurs begin to accumulate and questions form on the tips of the throng’s tongues, but these are quelched by a stoic Revenant. Schooly, Nart, and Snipe are selected and carry out a school yard-style draft of the remaining players, eventually culminating in the following teams –

TEAM SCHOOLY
Schooly D
Killhammer
Korny Munky
Bonkle

TEAM NART
Nart
Malagate
Stabbim
KG

TEAM SNIPE
Snipe
Syndrome
Pixel Fox
Padraig

With my secret preparations achieved and finishing touches applied, I hurriedly guzzle another shot of liquid caffeine in attempt to stave off my growing weariness. Standing at attention in the mirror, my eyes scan the reflection in one last visual inspection before I lean down to splash water on my face. I towel off and begin heading toward the entryway, just as Fembot appears in the door frame; she informs me that the group is growing restless with excitement. I nod and instruct her to announce my entrance. As I take my mark just beyond the side door to the main event space, I take a slow relaxing breath and allow myself to slip into character. As Fembot’s booming announcement of “CAPTAIN ON DECK!” cuts through the idle chit-chat, I grip the door handle and twist.

OPERATION: GRIDIRON
CITY OF NEW INDIANAPOLIS
MILITARY CALENDAR: SEPTEMBER 23, 2552

In keeping with the tradition I started during my first HBO LAN back in 2012, each gathering has seen us compete in a similarly-themed firefight event. We split into teams of four, select the map we most fancy, set fifteen minutes on the clock, give teams a little time to discuss their gameplan, and essentially play ‘score attack’ with the winning team earning matching prizes and bragging rights. With this iteration’s theming, I’d decided to lend a little more narrative weight to the scenario and really go the extra mile.

I conclude the mission briefing and once again snap a crisp salute to the men and women I’ve just sent to their deaths. As Fembot graciously finishes passing out each team’s ‘tacfilm planners’, I bring up the lights and team leaders begin reviewing with their squads. While Revenant works out the rearrangement of player accounts to accommodate team seating, I remain on-station and in-character to answer any questions the Spartans may have for Captain Helm. In a moment of carelessness, I mistakenly crack an ‘out-of-universe’ joke and Schooly scolds me on the spot. “Don’t break character now! This is great!” he reprimands his commanding officer. I decide that a military tribunal would be too much of a hassle at this point and let the insubordination slide.

Pixel Fox
“Some of my favorite moments were Bones coming out in that damn fine UNSC uniform, the commitment to the bit throughout – from the snacks to the low-fi war beats to relax to – and looking over the Firefight map to consider our strategy. I’ll remember Snipe beginning to draw his deployment idea in such a deadpan manner that it takes the rest of us a moment to realize the plan just so happens to be phallic-shaped!”

Syndrome
"Hands down, my favorite moment was watching you walk inside in complete uniform with your glorious and beautiful ‘stashe. I had goosebumps. The files shown on the big screen and the storytelling were absolutely incredible. I replay it in my head just to relive the magic – and the genius idea with the planning folders! It really helped build the camaraderie between us again and to get a feel for what kind of squad we were. Although our plan didn’t look impressive on paper… well, size doesn’t matter! It’s how we performed, and God did we bust ass!”

With the mission preparation phase drawing to a close, the stage is set – my custom generator defense gametype on Halo Reach’s Beachhead map, heroic difficulty, twenty minutes on the clock, and one life per player with no respawns per round. Rather than highest scoring, the team who survives the longest will be crowned the winner.

I grant my Spartans just a little more time than the initial planning allotment, then announce the mission status as ‘green’ and order the participating players to man their stations. As each squad hunkers down in their seats, the room grows quiet and the countdown chime ticks off. An inquisitive Fembot leans over and queries in a hushed tone, “What if more than one team survives the twenty minutes?” I turn my head slightly in response. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry,” I reply, “Wait until you see the Elite wave.”

The Spartans spawn on high ground inside the recreational complex and begin to execute their gameplans. The standout loadout seems to be the ‘Marksman’, with eight of the twelve players choosing to spawn with DMRs and three others choosing the ‘Grenadier’ selection. An interesting note of strategy, Snipe selects the ‘Air Assault’ loadout for its versatile jetpack and swaps his assault rifle with Pixel Fox’s designated marksman rifle while Paddy supplements his anti-armor loadout with the nearby Spartan Laser.

The opening waves ramp up slowly, with initial swarms of Grunts and Jackals supported by Wraith tanks taking firing positions in the rear flanks – the Sangheili Commanders are probing each team’s defensive lines with fodder infantry. Team Nart discovers just how tenacious the little buggers can be, though, and lose one of their generators within the first 90 seconds.

Schooly D, Killhammer, and Bonkle all take up firing positions near the elevated walkways, covering Korny Munky in hijacking and commandeering the lone enemy Ghost. Team Nart’s own Stabbim and Malagate are the only players to utilize the Rocket Warthog, circling the perimeter and engaging enemy armor. Team Snipe sets up a perimeter and directs their efforts around Generator A’s surrounding ramparts.

As Covenant bodies hit the dirt, heavily-loaded Phantoms swoop in to drop reinforcements – waves of Grunts give way to veteran Elites escorting Jackal squads, formations of Jackal Snipers, fuel rod-wielding Spec Ops Grunts deployed via drop pods, and a fast-attack blitzkrieg of Skirmishers. In an unfortunate incident, either from an unseen pinpoint plasma mortar round or a fortuitous plasma grenade, Nart shuffles off this mortal coil and is the first casualty of the night. Without their namesake leader to rally their spirits, Team Nart is eventually routed and cut down in a hail of plasma fire.

Team Nart
Score: 8,634
Mission Time: 8m 16s

While still in the fight, Team Schooly and Team Snipe haven’t found themselves in any less dire straits. The Covenant escalate their ground strength by deploying Hunter kill-squads supported by Jackals, hot-dropping bloodthirsty Brute infantry wielding concussion rifles, and ferrying additional Wraith armor onto the backfield. The increased pressure begins to mount as each team loses at least one generator and is forced to redistribute their positioning and switch up their tactics to compensate; fireteam comms begin to sound a touch more harried, with slight undertones of desperation breaking through the terse callouts. Syndrome attempts to fall back to higher ground and is suddenly caught between overlapping fields of enemy fire; her shields and armor melt away from the scorching onslaught. She drops to the ground, still firing her rifle in one last gesture of defiance.

The Sangheili Field Commander has grown impatient – it’s time to end this little game. As planned, the Phantom dropship deployments have bought time for his Sangheili warrior detachments to covertly maneuver just outside the engagement grids. He strikes the transmit icon on the comm node’s control pad and the signal goes out. Twenty-two elite Sangheili airborne operators thruster down from the sky and descend upon their prey. Just beyond wait another twenty-six Majors, Officers, and Ultras, their plasma and needle rifles bristling with energy, eagerly anticipating the follow-up order to attack. The rear-vanguard – another sixteen warriors supported by eight cloaked assassins – laugh in alien tongues at their enemy’s futile display of bravery.

The sudden and sheer ferocity of the alien ambush catches both Schooly and Killhammer off-guard; their shields are quickly overwhelmed by the volley of fire and collapse. Dozens of needle shards pepper Schooly and he detonates in a blinding pink blaze. Killhammer is gunned-down by plasma repeater fire from three separate angles. With their flanks exposed, Bonkle and Korny Munky can no longer defend their objective and the remaining generators are swiftly destroyed.

Team Schooly
Score: 19,069
Mission Time: 14m 3s

Rattled by the battlenet reports of their teammates’ fate, Team Snipe struggles to regroup after Syndrome’s unceremonious death. Valiantly, the three Spartans leave no quarter and fight for every inch the alien devils take, but are eventually battered against the rocks by the crashing wave of the Covenant war machine and the generators fall.

Team Snipe
Score: 24,642
Mission Time: 15m 59s

Thunderous applause resounds as the last of New Indianapolis’ fallen heroes lay down their controllers. After a short series of congratulations to everyone and sharing of standout moments, I call forth each team to receive their prizes and (posthumous) awards.

In third place, for their bravery in the face of overwhelming odds, Team Nart is awarded two enamel pins – the Legendary Difficulty Crest and the ODST Insignia. As I present the pins to each contestant, I repeat the words “Thank you for your service” before gently placing them in their open palms. When finished, I return to the head of the formation and snap a crisp salute. “Dismissed.”

In second place, for sheer tenacity and dedication to the mission, Team Schooly is awarded the ODST flag, tucked and folded to military regulation with the seven customary folds. Again, I thank each recipient for their service to the UNSC. Again, we salute each other and the flag. “Dismissed.”

In first place, for unwavering resolve and sacrifice to New Indianapolis, Team Snipe is awarded our highest honor – four M1 Combat Knives specially crafted at Misriah Armory. Both myself and Revenant share the proper handling etiquette and history behind the blades before presenting each to its new owner. “Thank you for your service,” I reprise as I look them in the eyes. “Dis-missed!”

With one last accolade to be awarded, I call for the group’s attention once more and raise the reward – a lovely-scented, crackling candle labeled ‘Eau de Filthy Casual’. As the first Spartan to fall in the Battle of New Indianapolis, the candle is bequeathed upon his scrubbiness, Sir Nart.

Revenant’s voice suddenly resonates from behind me and I wince in embarrassment; in my weary state, I’d completely forgotten that my co-host-in-arms has his own series of awards to bestow. I usher the group over toward the table at the end of the room and join them as Revenant takes the spotlight. Two rows of golden Mark V helmet trophies – celebrating both our event and Halo’s 25th anniversary – are meticulously laid out with associated placards. Along with the standard issue plate, Revenant has emblazoned some special accolades to distribute. Padraig wins the ‘Gauss Boss’ label for most kills with the Gauss Warthog’s turret, Stabbim the ‘Friendly Fire’ award for most betrayals, Korny Munky the honor of ‘Rustler of Jimmies’ for his general trolliness and commentary, Syndrome the prestige of ‘Accident Prone’ for most suicides, Nart the decoration of ‘Flag Collector’ for most captures, and Schooly that of ‘Sniper Lethal Vector’ for most headshots. We all tease Snipe with ceremonial ‘oooohs’ until Revenant reveals Snipe’s award of ‘Hyper-Lethal Vector’ for the most kills across all games, upon wherein the ‘ooohs’ switch to tease Schooly and we all laugh.

As the energy and excitement wind down, I spend the next half-hour or so posing for pictures in my uniform and enjoying the conversation around the room. Team Schooly dedicates their flags to Lord Buc, and I even salute His Buc-ness in a sign of respect. Schooly D and company jump into some matchmaking games and are summarily punished for being too good.

Eventually, I implore Revenant to handle any guest accommodations for the evening and excuse myself. Having returned my uniform to its hanger and protective cover in the closet, I sit down on the edge of the bed and collapse – I am utterly exhausted. I click off the bedside lamp and slowly shut my eyes, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. I smile as I begin to drift away, thankful that everyone seemed to enjoy the little slice of pageantry I’d concocted. I whisper to myself, “I think… I think you done good, buddy.”

Bonkle
“If it were up to me, this would have been a LAN week and not just a LAN weekend.”

SUNDAY
LOCAL CALENDAR: MAY 24, 2026
MILITARY CALENDAR: SEPTEMBER 23, 2552

Slipping out from underneath the warm blackness of slumber, I become aware of the weight of my corporeal form and already know that I’ve slept in late – or rather, later than the rest of my stay thus far. A small moral dilemma burdens me, weighed between rolling back over or rising to spend more quality time with my friends. After some short but intense deliberation, the latter wins. I don’t bother looking at the clock, and saunter out past the closed doors of several bedrooms to see whom else might have awakened. A paltry few have summoned the strength to arise after such a late night, and we share chit-chat and breakfast as our resident sleepyheads stagger in one-by-one for coffee and company.

In keeping with our traditional LAN schedules of past, Sunday usually sees much more unstructured fun – whether that be visiting nearby tourist attractions, participating in unforeseen ‘death march’ hiking excursions, or in this case the simple joy of playing some other titles with each other.

Malagate
“I’ll never forget rediscovering my love of Mass Effect 3’s multiplayer mode, and playing some good ol' Iron Brigade with Pixel Fox, Revenant, and Stabbim.”

The late morning sees bouts of other games break out, as well as a couple campaign mission run-throughs and firefight sessions. Team Schooly D dives back into matchmaking for the chance to redeem themselves now that their ban has expired. Malagate throws biotic missiles as an adept Volus in Mass Effect 3. With the help of my co-host and several other guests, we begin preliminary breakdown of the display tables and associated props, prepping them for transport the following day. After a short time passes, however, I begin to feel a change in the wind and the air grows heavy – I realize the time is nigh. Sequestered away in the rear of the dining room beyond, the whirring and ratcheting sounds of power-tool construction dance into my eardrums and beckon me to investigate. I obey and am surprised to find my co-host Revenant similarly entranced when I arrive. With a knowing gaze and subtle nod of concurrence, we return to the event room and gather everyone to their gaming stations.

PADDY CUP 2026
LODGE OF THE EAGLE’S CREST
LOCAL CALENDAR: 5TH YEAR OF THE ROBOTNIK

In accordance with a tradition that claims roots stretching all the way back to the Kentucky Fried LAN in 2013, so again does Padraig host his own lovably-deranged series of eccentric mini-games with equally esoteric prizes. This year, however, no one expects what breaches the doorway; the man from the City of Steel erects his own iron contraption – a freakin’ spinning wheel standee. I can only provide these eye-witness accounts of the madness that ensues but rest assured, dear reader, the ridiculous laughter and merriment were far greater even that what’s depicted here –

Contest: ‘Sanic Race’ on ‘Despetagon’
Description: A thrilling mongoose race along a custom-forged Halo Reach map created by Padraig back in 2011, featuring diabolical shortcuts booby-trapped with landmines that even the architect himself doesn’t remember creating.
Winner: Nart
Prize: Three-Tier ‘Sanic’ Trophy!

Contest: ‘Rocket Rat Race’ on Breakpoint
Description: A slightly-less thrilling but no less explosive round of Rocket Race around the frozen slopes and winding tunnels of Halo Reach’s Breakpoint!
Winner: Schooly D
Prize: The ‘Halo 3 Rat’ Sticker

Contest: "What Halo Quote Am I Thinking Of?”
Description: Exactly what’s on the wheel – try your best to guess which quote is bouncing around in the ephemeral chaos that is Paddy’s brain!
Answer: “Sir, finishing this fight.”
Winner: Snipe
Prize: ‘Sir, Drinky Me Slurpy’ Sticker

Physical Challenge: Hug Contest
Description: Exactly what’s on the wheel – give Paddy your best hug and he will totally judge them impartially and not immediately cave to the woman who sweet-talks into his ear!
Winner: Syndrome
Prize: ‘Hold Me, Baby’ Sergeant Johnson & Elite Legendary Ending Sticker

Contest: Best LAN Host
Description: Exactly what’s on the wheel – be the best host! Suck it, Revenant and Bluerunner!
Winner: Bones
Prize: The Golden Bone

Contest: What Halo Skull Am I Thinking Of?
Description: Exactly what’s on the wheel – try your best to guess which particular Halo modifier skull that just so happens to be bouncing around in Paddy’s own hollow bone!
Answer: Cowbell Skull
Winner: Bonkle
Prize: Miniature Cowbell Skull Keychain

Physical Challenge: Best Scream
Description: Exactly what’s on the wheel – scream your best scream and you’d better make it mean, because Paddy only wants the best of the best!
Winner: Stabbim
Prize: Golden Goku Figurine

Contest: Most Hungry Award
Description: Participate in a match of Halo 3 FFA Slayer and achieve the most kills, try-hard!
Winner: Bonkle
Prize: Hamburger Art Canvas

Contest: Least Hungry Award
Description: Participate in a match of Halo 3 FFA Slayer and achieve the least kills, loser!
Winner: Cadet
Prize: Small Plastic 4-Piece Chicken Nugget Meal

Contest: Name the Most Recent Meme
Description: Exactly what’s on the wheel – try to name the most recent meme and Paddy will vet the creation date of your answer via the website knowyourmeme.com, if his wireless service loads the page that is!
Winner: Schooly D
Prize: Wax ‘7’ & ‘8’ Birthday Candles

Contest: Winner of Game
Description: Participate in a match of Halo 3 FFA Slayer and win the game, sweaty-mcsweats!
Winner: Pixel Fox
Prize: Miniature Halo 3 Game Case Keychain

Contest: Save One Bullet Award
Description: Participate in a match of Halo 3 Infection and survive the longest, coward!
Winner: Korny Munky
Prize: Large Bullet Casing-Shaped Water Bottle

Eventually, the manic triathlon of absurd gametypes, intense cognitive thought experiments, and demanding physical challenges comes to a finale and we break. Sadly, so does our time with two of our guests, with Pixel Fox and Malagate needing to head out early to catch their flights home. Stabbim has ever so graciously offered to drive them to the airport, so after lining up for manly hugs, we give them a hero’s farewell and chant their names into legend.

While Revenant continues with event teardown, I conscript the ever-faithful KG to assist with procuring nourishment. I’d originally promised myself that I’d take the higher road regarding the weekend’s nutrition and wouldn’t order pizza, but I cave and soon we’re driving off to collect from the local Papa John’s establishment. The drive to the nearby town and back provides a brief respite from the duties of host, and I’m able to appreciate the beautiful scenery of southern Indiana’s springtime. Returning with cheesy-goodness, the group’s hunger is appeased and I employ two supreme intellects to lower the projection screen.

Indulging in a short respite after lunch, conversation drifts back to old forum posts from the before-times and ancient customs night write-ups; Nart guides us through the convoluted web of forum posts and dead links until we find just the right video to tickle our sensibilities.

For the next several hours, our bellies full and spirits high, we continue the ‘un-work’ of dismantling and repacking the various display items and returning the furniture to their rightful storage locations – leaving a small number of consoles and screens available. After months of gentle prodding and encouragement, never once succumbing to underhanded name-calling or bullying, I finally persuade Revenant to give Managed Democracy a chance and he joins me in Helldivers II. With KG providing expert advice from the sideline, we manage to recruit both Fembot and Stabbim unto freedom’s wings, as well. I look up toward the sky with a whimsical expression and a twinkle in my eye; I have done Liberty’s will and fulfilled my recruitment quota for the week.

As the evening turns to night and the last throes of sunlight wane in the distance, I notice the remaining guests have gathered on the front porch to enjoy the cooler weather. After making myself an absolutely stacked deli sandwich, I grab a chair from the dining room and join. The conversation drifts from sharing memories of PAX and other LAN events to our first posts on the HBO forum to Schooly’s existential crisis after being killed by The Guardians to our unfiltered thoughts on the Halo television series to our deepest, darkest desires for the future of Halo. Syndrome distributes some gifts of her own that she’s just finished up during the event – crochet plushie engineers! Once again, I’m grateful just to be sitting in good weather, good conversation, and good company.

With the sun having set and the mosquitos beginning their attack runs, we head back inside for some additional matchmaking in Halo, some eleventh-hour helldives, and an amusing round of BOLL’s own Warthog Launch flash game. As a last-minute order of business, myself and Revenant bestow two special awards – the custom-crafted and hand-painted 11” Master Chief statuettes. For not only tackling the herculean task of cooking for sixteen people but serving absolutely divinely-tasting dishes, the first is awarded to his culinary kingliness – KG. For braving the wilderness of the lands outside his hometown and enduring the combined twelve-hour car ride with Paddy, the second is awarded to ‘Mr. Headshot’ himself – Snipe.

MONDAY
LOCAL CALENDAR: MAY 25, 2026
MILITARY CALENDAR: SEPTEMBER 24, 2552

I’m stirred from the restful depths once more and, in obedience with my waking ritual, thumb the side button on my phone and peer through crescent slits to see the time – 07:00. With still so much ‘unwork’ to complete, I throw off the bedsheets and drag my obstinate body under the warm running water. Emerging refreshed and re-dressed, I’m welcomed by an absolutely beautiful morning of sunshine.

With the check-out deadline of ten o’clock looming, I don’t have much time to be wistful – though that’s sure to come later. I scarf down a small breakfast of chewy granola and liquid caffeine and return to boxing up the remaining equipment and supplies. As the rest of the crew surfaces from their dwelling places and begins congregating in the kitchen, we hold a quick pow-wow to itemize the remaining action items and assign tasks. While a majority of the squad handles refrigerator clearing, kitchen cleaning, and trash disposal, I enlist Cadet to assist with the lifting and loading, promoted by virtue of being the most conscious and lively; being of gentle and endearing character, he obliges.

Becoming one of the lesser memes of the LAN, the clean-up crew discovers that a singular donut has survived – earlier dubbed the ‘Team Schooly Donut’. Tempting both fate and intestinal fortitude, we take a moment to employ some good ol’ fashioned peer-pressure and convince Schooly to devour his namesake confectionary. Seemingly unperturbed and having dutifully completed their assignments, the boys enjoy some last-minute table tennis and foosball, interrupted only by one last photo-op with Snipe.

With all vehicle loading complete and the property swept and secured, we gather for the final time in the kitchen to sign the guestbook and revel in some last laughs.

We exchange another round of goodbye hugs and mount up. As host, I decide its only customary to see each guest out, so I take position next to the road leading toward the hill; as each vehicle passes, I snap one last crisp salute. Korny Munky and Syndrome document their exit and sing the event’s namesake tune –

Until we meet again, Vidmasters...

First.

Sounds like a lot of fun! Sorry I wasn't in the country.

It was an incredible event, and I appreciate seeing more of the behind-the-scenes on how you all did a hell of a job bringing it together.

- No text -

Really wish I could have made it. I have a stack of stories for the next time.

(mad jelly)