Spartans never die. No matter how many times you see them fall from bullets, swords, explosions, or even if you had the chance to desperately check for a pulse that's no longer there – they are always alive. They've paved the way for humanity and its future. Their names unknown, but their success never forgotten. Without them, without the Noble, our world would have fallen to the hands of the Covenant a long time ago. So remember, Spartans never die. They just fall into a fowl pit of darkness, lost in their way.
Time – 17.00
Location – Shipyard
Planet – Reach
Mission – Success
It was if it was just like yesterday that Noble Team had set out to deliver the package. Memories flooded Six's head, faces of comrades that had died. Out of the six that had began the journey, only he remained.
Watching the ship fly off into the dusk sky was neither hell nor a haven for him. For the intimate death ahead was already planned. Only a small feeling of success surfaced through the toughened shell he had built through the excruciating journey. He turned away, looking at the ship would do him no good.
Fight.
Yes, that's what he had to do. In memory and respect for his fallen comrades. In honor of Noble Team, he would fight till his last breath. Just little did he know of the intimate death he would soon face. Passing by Emile, only seconds could he swallow in the sadness and pity before moving on. Staying in one place was never safe. Especially if the enemy was already there invading it.
The sky above him turned gray, then slowly – black. Little specks of light gleamed, night was upon Six. He sauntered towards the savaged field, remains of buildings scattered about. The ground beneath him tattered with spots of dead grass and dirt. The haunting memories weighed him down. He was alone now. The only Spartan left to fight. A rustle behind him alerted his senses. He swiftly turned, pulling the trigger of his Battle Rifle and killing the ugly Grunt.
He sighed and looked up at the sky. It was a source of beauty, something reminding him of what he was here for. Seconds passed into minutes before he snapped out the trance and continued his quest, wherever that would lead him. As long as the Covenant existed, he wouldn't rest.
He would fight till the end just like the others.
Time – 17.43
Location – Unknown
Planet – Reach
Mission – Survive
Approximately forty-three minutes had elapsed since the departure of the ship and his last comrade. Six was slow in his pace, no enemy had confronted him for a while. All was silent, yet the destruction continued. Explosions sounded off in the distance. Every time a big one blew off, Six would flinch. Then all of a sudden, a lazy plasma scarcely hit him.
He swiveled, whipping out a gun. He aimed, then fired. A perfect shot.
More enemies, namely Elites came at him. All Six could do was fight. But his gun soon ran out of ammo. An Elite shot his arm, he elbowed that one away while using his hand to grab the gun. Another bullet hit his helmet this time, then another, and another. His death was undoubtedly soon to come. Six turned at the direction of the shot and fired. He kept on shooting, making sure not to let any bullet come to waste. Many enemies fell, but they just kept on coming.
Finally, he took off his helmet, finding his vision blurred by the multiple cracks. He dropped the helmet on the ground and ran into battle. More bullets pierced his armor, and then lastly, an Elite pinned him to the ground. Air barely getting to his lungs, it was the end of the last Noble. It was the end of Noble Six. He tried to struggle free, kill one more Elite before it was the end, but with the lack of oxygen, the task was impossible.
A flash of light took over his sight. The unbearable weight crushing him dispersed. He felt light, free. 'I'm dead. . .' , he thought. But nonetheless, after days unending, he finally smiled. He died alone, in an unthinkable death. Yet he never cared for that. As his body was being ripped apart, his black eyes gazed at the sky. Six could rest at last. His time was over. . .
Many years had passed, and Reach had finally been left behind. A monument had been built to honor the Noble Team and its members. Words of praise and respect spoken about each. Yet if you visit one certain place in Reach, a place were grass blossoms in its verdant glory; you will spot a worn out helmet. Cracks and damages indenting the once fresh gear. It is one of many that the Spartans on Reach had left behind as memorandums. Others had left tales of glory, some had imprinted scars on the planet. But just remember, those Spartans are still there. They have never left us, they have never left Reach. Just as Noble Team's commander had said,
"Spartans never die, Jorge, their just Missing In Action."