Believe,
Lone Wolf.
A testimony to Heaven or Hell. Waiting for the fate of what a lightless, and sudden end could take you in your final hour. To Noble 6, nothing more than a small, overwashed feeling of watching that giant, beautiful ship take off into the orange dusk of a sky, was more than enough to cancel fear.
Instead of watching rhe dawn set downward, six found themselves peering upwards, watching as humanity escaped the Covernant onslaught again with the skin of their teeth. But nothing came, at least, not in this war without a price.
But the small clank agains their armour caused the Spartans head to fall from the sky, the stars, and to the future, to the assault rifle tapping gently at the armour of their leg. This ground right now, this planet, this present, was theirs to become, the history of a great War, and the defying elements to overcome what seemed like an impossibility.
Yes. This was it.
No matter what, even if you saw a Spartan fall from a bullet, a sword, explode on a ship, felt their lifeless body in desperate search of a weak pulse.. Even if you could confirm it with your own eyes; Spartans never died. They only went missing into the howling darkness, and lost their way.
Six did not delude themselves with a simple stutter of hope; getting off this planet alive, fighting another day. This was their ground, their mark in history. The burning torch of hope flew into the worlds beyond upon that ship. And now? Now was the time to face their fate like a Spartan.
The silent hum of engines, powered by something otherworldly, but strangely, familar entered the field. Six was already upon a high standing ground, with turrets laying about at their side.
So.. This is how it all ends.
A plasma bolt whizzed narrowly across their helm, followed by majestic colours of Pink, sharp insicions and green blobs of lazy Plasma, the Spartan ducked instantly for cover. There was always a saying amongst marines, to save one bullet for yourself. Don't let those bastards get the pleasure of killing you when the odds are down.
But who will decide when your hand is going to be trumpt? That is soley up to the person, and a Spartan, is always against those odds. For a few brief moments of thought, Six turn from their cover, and bolted short, but well placed shots from their Assault Rifle. Six would man the turret, if they could, but the chances of no fire and the overwhelming numbers gathering for just one person seemed more like suicide.
For the briefest of moment, Six seemed to have the upper hand. Shooting grenades out of the small aliens hands to blow up parts of the small army forming between them. But the numbers where endless, and the bullets where limited. And sometimes... our luck just runs out.
It didn't take long, for Six to be completely out of bullets. The bodies piled up and soon, wave after wave of covernant forces climbed over their bodies towards The spartan. Could a Grim Reaper die?
For a few moments, plasma burns and fatigue began to weigh the single Spartan down. Six felt the heavy burden of living upon their shoulders, but one less covernant force, means one less death for the future.
A small crack, his the right side of their visor. Not enough to distort vision, but even their armour was beginning to fail against them. Each passing second was a second of borrowed time. Elites, finally deciding not to allow the cannon fodder to take any more tolerable deaths, flicked their fingers to produce energy swords. There was a number of them, running towards six.
It all seemed so rushed, Six had fought for at least 15 minutes now. Their HUD was flickering, another crack produced upon their visor. but there was no way, in this life, would they take it rolling over.
In a sort of commemoration to Noble 5, Six took off their helmet, letting it fall to the ground. The recoding was still going, asthe assault rifle in their hand slammed into the split Jaw of the elite. it fell, crippled upon such a force. But within seconds more elites powered the Spartan to the ground.
Six knew, starung upwards, despite their kicks, their final insults to the enemy that hated them so much, that this place is where they would disappear into the dark. The sword glinted, the pain was already in their side before they knew it was going to hit. The only thing to be produced from this, however, was a smirk.
Thats right. Make me feel the pain of being alive. Let me know in these final moments.
I am alive.
UNSC / / Log in.
Password: ***************
...
Granted.
Query: Noble 6.
...
SPARTAN - III
SPARTAN - B312.
Rank: Lietenant.
Status: MIA.
Notes: ...
**EDIT**
"Believe."
AN: Not supposed to be amazing, Just finished Reach, thought I'd write a small monument to Noble Six. Notice i put "They" or "Their", since Gender is not confirmed. The Gender is totally up to you, the reader, the player.
I hope you enjoyed Reach as much as I did, thanks Bungie.
I'll miss this.