I didn't know how to feel.
When the news came in. Shock, fear and sadness filled my void. Hands to my face, covering my mouth as the admiral on screen spoke. I wanted to scream, shout out that she was lying, but I couldn't.
Gasps of shock, some started crying as the others around me watched. My own tears dropped. The Chief was dead, he couldn't be! My mind and body screamed but nothing flicked my tongue to make such words.
Throat locked as sobs escaped. Hands clenched, white knuckles. A ONI drone came online, the Chief lay there. Barely moving, rubble moving onto his helmet as his body remained crushed beneath the destruction of the buildings around him.
A woman beside me broke down, my arms layed around and pulled her into my chest. The stranger in my hands accepting the comfort. A single wet tear dropped from under my eye and fell to the floor when the once golden visor, flashed into dullness. Nothing moved.
Our hero had fallen.
Everyone had stopped what they were doing. Business people to the those who hadn't had a stable job watched in shock, awe and gobsmacked. All had leaks of tears.
A young boy sat, a Master Chief toy in his hands. "Please Chief, we need you." Was all he whispered. One by one, everyone started to mutter and whisper. Each one a wish for 117 to rise. Letting the woman off my chest, I fell to my knees, the inability to hold my weight.
My face covered with my own tears. "Chief." Was the only thing to escape my mouth. The drone turned to show array of alien machines marching around. Until it turned back to Chief. "Chief!" My voice rising.
Climbing back to my feet. "We need you!" I didn't care if he couldn't hear me or those who had lost hope tried to give sympathy. A couple hands landed on my shoulders, voices of mixed genders whispered that there was nothing possible and that he was. Gone.
The thought trapped in my mind, my throat notted. I screamed again. The boy holding the Chief toy held it close to him. His own dropping onto the seemingly sad toy. The tear hit the plastic visor. My scream did nothing.
My hope was lost, "Chief..." I whispered. My eyes closed shut,tears leaking out.
A gasp, my eyes opened, the rubble moved. A black and green hand shot out, the debris fell off of the Chief. The machines turned and faced his direction. Like he heard our plea and cry for his life, the dull gold visor twisted at the drone before the dull faded.
Replaced by a luxurious gold, a screech of metal. As the Chief rose to a standing. Cheering all around me. My pained tears turned to joy as a smile crossed my face. A pair of dog-tags hang round the Spartans right hand. As he stood, my faith restored.
The Chief. Couldn't die, not yet.