The burn of a Sangheili Energy Sword as it pierced his chest and lungs was the last thing he knew. The hiss of burning flesh, and the agonizing sting that sizzled and cauterized his insides was all that was in his mind. But he did it. Humanity has a chance now. He wondered if the Elites he took with him to the grave was where he was. In a pitch black darkness. Left with only his thoughts, and nothing else.
What was he meant to do during his last moments? He spoke no sentimental last words. SPARTAN-B312, or better known as Noble Six, was the farthest thing from sentimental. Coldly rational is what he was. He stayed quiet until he took his final breath, concentrating only on taking out his enemies with him. Not on coming up with final words of wisdom. Words of wisdom wouldn't help the survival of humanity. Sacrifice and fighting does.
Sacrifice.
Jorge, Kat, Carter, Emile… Possibly even Jun for all he knew. Their actions gave humanity a fighting chance, not their words.
He felt… saddened by their demises. But not regretful. No. He was no more regretful about their deaths than his own. Their deaths had purpose, which is more than most humans killed in this war had.
His thoughts froze. He could… think, he realized. He knew, but he did not think on it. Could everyone when they died? Despite all the progress of humanity's intellect and technology, no one had an answer to the ever persevering question, "What happens when you die?" But it seemed the only way to find out was to die. It was now Noble Six realized how foolish it was to ponder over such things. It happens to everyone, and it will, sooner or later. They would find out. Why ask questions if you'll find out in the end?
All thoughts of death and the afterlife were stayed when he felt his eyelids open. Not to see a paradise of heaven, his few friends around him to welcome him, or an apocalyptic hell, with dreadful flames melting the meat off you and charring your bones. But rather… to see a blue clear sky, spotted by white clouds. He could see elms of trees around the corners of his eyes, and he felt the mud seeping into his back. He was filthy, as were his clothes.
Wait, clothes? He was wearing his Mjolnir Power Armor moments ago. He felt exposed, naked, without his armor.
He noted how his vision was not obstructed by his helmet's HUD. He quickly sat up and scanned his surroundings. He was in a forest. A swamp, more like. He quickly stood up and moved to dust himself off, only to see that he wore civilian clothes. A pair of black jeans and a red tank top. Surprisingly, they fit perfectly. Though they were stained by dirt and mud. His black shoes sunk into the mud beneath him. Noble Six's hands scoured his waist for a holster, only to find none. He was unarmed.
He saw his arms, dirty and covered in dirt and grime. As he moved his facial muscles, he could affirm, thanks to the feeling, that his face was covered in the same dirt.
Once again he scanned his surroundings with keen eyes. He had no idea where he was. If this was the afterlife, then he might as well start walking. See where it gets him.
He wandered for about 9 minutes and a quarter, all the while the forest around him seemed silent. Too silent. No human sounds, no rustling of trees and bushes other than the ones he caused, himself. What truly confused him was the lack of sounds from any animals. At all. He had been to many planets, he had yet to forget the sound of a single animal from any of them. He looked up at the sky to get an idea of what planet he was on. There was nothing too telling.
'Guess I shouldn't be surprised at the lack of sounds. If this is the afterlife, animals probably got their own. Just wonder what sort of afterlife would have you wake up covered head to toe with filth and mud.'
It didn't take long before his eyes spotted the ground rising up to a hill.
No, not a hill. A… road. He made his way to it, his strong legs taking him up the slightly steep ground with extreme ease. He stepped over the side railing and found himself amidst a sea of vehicles. What stunned him on the spot was that none of them looked modern in any way. If anything, they were all antiques. He had never laid hands on the steering wheel of a civilian car, but he had seen enough with his own eyes during operations. The design these had were… old, to be generous.
But everything was abandoned. Not a single person in sight.
Before his thoughts continued, he heard the sound of two whispering voices, one of them old, "Look, T-Dog. Walker."
The other man, now named T-Dog, spoke deliriously, "What… the fuck kind of walker is that? You seen the size of him?"
"Kind of hard to miss. His clothes are clean though. Well, not clean, but they're not torn up. And he walked pretty normal for a walker. Look, his back's straight."
"You really gonna judge him for a walker or not based on how straight 'is damn back is? I mean… he's already dirty enough to be one."
Before the old man could respond, Six turned to his right and spotted them with keen eyes. An old man wearing a bucket hat with… another antique? He bore a hunting rifle strapped on his shoulder, though not one used these days for hunting. Thing was still made of a wooden stock. Though he couldn't judge the two for their clothes, even he knew they were outdated. T-Dog was a black, bald man. The first thing Six noticed about him was the bandage on his arm.
When they realized they were spotted, the old man hastily plucked his rifle from his shoulder and aimed it at him.
Six quickly yet calmly raised his hands.
He heard T-Dog whisper, "I don't think a walker was ever afraid of a gun before."
The old man hesitated before calling out, "Are you one of the dead."
A short silence came before Six's answer. 'So this is the afterlife, huh?' His voice was fairly young, yet had a hint of baritone behind it, as he called back. "Yes."
The old man lowered his gun with a relieved expression. His inhuman ears once more picked up T-Dog's whispering, "Real funny, asshole." Once again, confusion crossed Six's mind. Did he say something to warrant such hidden aggression?
"The name's Dale," the old man called back. "I'm not a threat to you unless you are to me. Are you alone?"
"Yes."
Dale commented quietly on Six not being a talker, but continued his interactions with him, "Come over here, I'd rather not shout any more and attract more walkers."
'What are these walkers he keeps mentioning.'
Six did as requested and calmly made his way to them. T-Dog whispered his doubts of trusting Six, and Six himself was beginning to doubt where he thought he was. Dale's stance was still alert. "That's close enough. What's your name?"
"I'm not ready to divulge that information, sir."
They both looked at him oddly and glanced discreetly at each other before Dale faced him again, "Are you military?"
"Yes, sir. UNSC."
They were clearly perplexed when he mentioned the UNSC, but did not think much of it. "You got a title we can call you by? Look, we can give you our names. Like I said, I'm Dale, and this is T-Dog… I mean Theodore Douglas."
He paused before answering, "You can call me Noble."
T-Dog spoke, his voice still drowsy, "Noble? Ain't never heard of a title called Noble. That your real name?"
"Yes, sir," Noble Six lied.
"What rank are you?"
"Lieutenant, sir."
"Alright… Well, listen, Mister Noble. We got a group nearby that are… searching… You can stay with us until they return."
He looked around. Not a single living thing in the woods and no one else to be seen for miles around him except for the two in front of him. Something was going on that he didn't know about. He had to find out what it was, and preferably he'd do it discreetly.
"I'd appreciate your hospitality, sir."
Dale chuckled, "Hospitality? We're out here in the middle of a road filled with cars and I'm offering you to stay with us. That's decency. Hospitality would be to offer to invite you to my home."
Six ignored the last comments as his eyes flicked to Theodore's arm, "You're wounded, sir."
He chuckled tiredly, "No shit? I hadn't noticed."
"Have you received proper medical attention?"
"If I did, you think I'd talk as if I was high as a fucking kite?"
Dale turned to Theodore with a scolding look before returning to Six, "I'm so sorry. We haven't been able to find anything for his infection. We're looking for antibiotics, but to no success."
They're unable to contact an ambulance? Something extremely odd was going on around SPARTAN-B312, and he would find out. But for now, he'd act along. "I can help in your search."
"I'd appreciate that very much, Noble. You don't mind if I call you by your first name, do you?"
"Not at all, sir."
Dale smiled, "If so, then I can extend the same courtesy. Call me Dale."
T-Dog impatiently commented, "If y'all done kissing asses, I'd appreciate if we could start lookin'. Startin' to feel a little more than woozy."
Dale glared at him, yet Six could see the concern in his eyes for his friend. Six stayed Dale's embarrassment, "Of course, sir. I'd advise you to take a seat while I look around. It shouldn't take long."
They were both surprised that he'd attempt to find medicine on his own. Dale protested. And Six responded with what little information on the situation he had."Sir, I'd feel safer if you would be on the lookout for… walkers, while I look." They had kept mentioning walkers with caution, as if they're afraid. Maybe the Walkers were a gang.
In the end, Dale conceded. And as Noble turned around, he heard T-Dog call out after him. He turned around and saw the man sitting on the stairs in an RV. "Hey, man. Sorry for being an asshole. I 'ppreciate you helping out."
Noble stared before nodding, "Don't mention it, sir. Rest for now."