Welcome back guys, hope you like this new chapter, not entirely sure what to think of this yet but I wanted to upload it regardless.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2 – No Rest For The Wicked

The concussive blasts of salvos echoed through the air, his heaving breaths were barely audible over the outcries of "DEMON!" The terror clearly evident in their cries. Another burst of green flames scorched the earth behind him. His advance accelerated as he darted through the empty shell of a barracks. His attention solely focused on the window a mere few feet away. He plummeted headfirst through the inferior glass, casting his eyes upon the adversaries below. Time ceased to move as the Spartan analysed the enemies.

Three elites, two Minors and an Ultra. Dread was painted on their faces as they tried to draw arms upon the descending threat in obvious futility. The Spartan withdrew his kukri in mid flight and collided with the Ultra, feet first upon its shoulders. The division of bones occupied the air. His instincts kicked into overdrive as he jabbed the blade through the helmet of the alien officer. The feeling of appease faintly drifted into the back of his mind but was later kicked out as he turned his sights to the frozen elites.

Before they could snap back into reality from seeing their veteran officer dispatched so quickly, the Spartan travelled as a blur before their very eyes. Six had closed the distance between him and his opponents in a mere few seconds, delivering a kick full of locked up fury to one of the elites, into its chest plate, causing it to instantly collapse under the superior force. The elite's life abandoned its body within a few seconds of engaging its eyes towards the incoming attack and flew across the desert floor. The other elite managed to collect himself enough to deliver a pathetic swing of his weapon. The Spartan ducked beneath the weapon and plunged into the elite. The wind was vacated from its lungs as it felt what was like a ghost ramming into it at full speed. The drawn blade soon found itself buried within the jugular of the elite.

Six found himself frozen in place as his senses slowly returned, his grip still crushing the handle of the blade. He plunged his other hand onto the helmet off of the elite to hold it steady while he tore the knife from its resting place. He stomped one foot to the ground while he collected himself and returned to his full height. A moment of silence followed as the massacre had reached its end.

The silence was shattered by an eerie sound passing through the surroundings. It wasn't until he looked up that he realised what it was. The green blaze contrasted against the orange sky as it cascaded towards the armoured individual. He threw his weight backwards in an attempt to avoid the incoming barrage of flames. But the explosion connected into his chest and cast him even further away. His shields roared with claxons, crimson seeped through the edges of his visor. A burning sensation clouded his mind, alerting him to the damage.

He took a moment to scan the damage. The chest plate had done its purpose; it had taken the full brunt of the assault. It now coloured shadow black, revealing a gap of amour dripping with his vital fluid. That did not limit the Spartan in the slightest during his next action. The Spartan sprinted onto a pile of crates and bound upwards to the battle stained roof. He glided across and leapt once more, this time he smashed into the air bound adversary. His view was obstructed by purple as his head was embedded within the craft.

Six jerked his head backwards while trying to maintain his balance as the Banshee initiated somersaults and twists in the air, to remove the unwelcome guest from its presence. A hand soon found itself to the side of his belt to only emerge with a plasma grenade. The charge was primed and the explosive was punched into the interior of the vehicle. The Spartan ceased all intentions of holding on and dropped from the sky to land on one knee. An explosion of blue brilliance soon followed after, casting a white flash across the surroundings. He looked to the plummeting twisted forms of metal as they impacted into the ground near him, sliding to only stop a few feet before him.

His dropped to his knees and thrust his hand forward to the ground to stop himself from falling head first into the ground. His breathing was now ragged; his chest was pumping frantically while his heart tried to calm its pace from the incident. His side soon found itself against the floor to only be shifted so his back now took its place. Two and a half weeks of no rations, no rest but never ending combat was now taking its toll on the super soldier. All strength now sapped from his joints. All he could do was look to the sky in hope of him being able to collect himself before any new "visitors" showed up. Black veins flowed into the corners of his eyes until all he could see was pith black, his mind drifted from consciousness to deliver a well deserved rest to the Spartan

Static shot through the silence, evoking a sudden jerk from the slumbering giant. He looked left and right to pin point the location of the sound and with little effort determined its location. He heaved himself up and jogged to what was left of a bunk house, noticing the doors ripped off its hinges and the red stains running across the floor and onto the beds. He departed through the door way and into a hall way to find the command centre.

There he saw the radio and found himself trying to tune to all channels. At one point what sounded like a voice broke through the static to only be gone again as abrupt as it had arrived. Again it broke through a few minutes later and the Spartan had recognised the message, a distress signal requesting all remaining Spartans to converge on CASTLE base. By the end of the message of the Spartan was no longer there, he had long left after that line had followed, if there was a chance any of his brothers were still alive he had to take it, no matter the risk.

Six stared into the overview of the fort from the safety of the cliff face, scanning for any movement what so ever in hopes of finding survivors. His heart brimmed with the chance of re-uniting with his fellow brethren. But that hope was shattered. Suddenly the doors of the research centre swung open with huge force, slamming into the walls causing it to dent the exterior of the building. A huge humanoid figure followed soon after in mid flight, stopped only by the opposite building. Out of the doors came two beings of similar proportion but definitely not human. The dark blue armour reflected the sunlight as they revelead themselves, hunters. Unlike other hunter though they held no weapons or shields, they wore huge gauntlets which were likely used to pummel the resistance out of any prisoners. They stomped across the floor to the human stuck within the wall and tore him from his location. Only then did Six realise who the figure was.

It was a Spartan, but of a larger scale. The man easily competed with the heights of the two hunters. His helmet was that of the Gungnir variant, scorched with black marks and crimson red across the face. The man's arms were colossal to say the least which reflected the danger of approaching this individual let alone trying to handle him.

His thoughts were interrupted as his auditory emulators picked up the giant speaking. "Fuckers" he spat towards the hunters locking his arms which only provoked one of the hunters to punch him in the stomach. The man cursed in response which only later turned into laughter. His chuckling made the hunter look to each other in confusion as for some reason he found this situation funny. Suddenly he thrust his right arm forward, dragging the hunter forward to only be pushed back by the collision of his elbow. The blow was enough to knock the hunter down but it recovered quickly to deliver a backhand to the Spartan. To which the Spartan grunted and continued to laugh "That all you got Buttercup?"

Six found this man to be insane to try to provoke the hunters. But the man was of a height standing at around 7"8 and looked like a human scorpion (the tank) so he could probably take the punishment. To his puzzlement the hunters didn't react, they only stood to attention, facing the doors they had previously left. There six and the other Spartan noticed another presence, an elite standing, clad in bronze like armour which shone in brilliance and pride of its workmanship. "Well who is this?" the immobilised Spartan questioned and looked to the hunters expecting a reply. They only kept their attention forward and he swore they had tensed all of a sudden, they were...afraid? Who exactly was this?

Thank you for all the reviews, I have taken some ideas to heart and I would like to clarify some things.

Halo and Mass effect are of different universes not dimensions so it would not complicate matters, also OCs are small temporary characters, they will most likely not be main characters in this story, I only want you guys to have a chance at being a part of the story.

That being said this new Spartan is an OC from a viewer who will be properly depicted in the next chapter.

Thank you all once again for the simple views and reviews.

Until next time!