*EDIT: Apparently you can't have multiple polls going on at once, so it's only one.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, if I did, it would be cannon

"So tell me again, where did you come from?" Sergeant Smith snarled, twisting the knife deeper into the alien's leg.

"ARRGGHH! Go to hell!" the Warlock screamed, and spat at the brunette soldier. The man slapped her, toppling the chair to the floor. The Awoken grunted in pain, and the soldier picked her up off of the floor. The man picked up another knife, despite the dozen that were already embedded in the female. He stabbed the alien in the shoulder, impaling her to the chair, the three foot blade sliding through her flesh, and the wood behind it, which splintered around the blade, wood chips slicing into the wound. She screamed again, roaring her pain and frustration out into the ceiling. The soldier turned away, heading for the door.

"I'll be back in a few hours, have fun while I'm gone." He called over his shoulder, sparing another glance at the battered figure in the middle of the room. "When I return, I'll bring some new toys with me, and we can have another play date. Doesn't that sound like fun?" The soldier cackled, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. The Awoken groaned, shifting in her seat. She had no idea how long she had been in the cold, wet dungeon, but knew it had to have been more than a few hours. She glanced around, taking in the cement walls, the energy-shielded doors, and the water dripping from the ceiling, but most importantly, that there were no guards or cameras around.

"Okay, we're clear." She said, leaning back as much as she could without falling over.

"Finally! Oh thank the Traveler!" The Ghost exclaimed, materializing in front of the Warlock. The orb made several loops around the tiny cell, before settling before the Awoken. "By the Light! What have they done to you?!" He asked, looking the Guardian up and down. "This could take some time to fix, especially with all of those knives still in you. Hold on, I'll try to heal what I ca-" The Ghost was interrupted by footsteps in the hall, getting closer. The Ghost stopped, and dematerialized, moments before the soldiers entered the room, dragging a familiar Human with them. The human was lean, and small. She had a round face, with orange face paint that had mostly faded, but was still visible enough to make out the pattern; two lines under her eyes, going horizontal, with an inverted triangle on her forehead, above her nose. A thin scar ran from under her left eye to above her left ear, it shone silver against her tanned skin, reflecting the meager light of the cell. She was petite, small and thin, but lean muscles still showed beneath her tattered black tank top. Her dyed pink hair hung around her ears, dirty and unruly.

"Ugh, who the hell is that?" The Awoken asked, feigning ignorance while pretending to be groggy from the torture. Actually, there was no pretending the grogginess; whoever these guys were, they really knew how to interrogate.

"Oh, you don't know? I find that hard to believe, considering they came from one of the ships that crashed with yours. Now answer my questions or she dies." A new voice, a new interrogator. A figure stepped out from behind the two guards. This new figure was tall, standing at over 7 feet, and was male.

"I'm sorry, I don't think that I have had the pleasure of meeting you yet," the Awoken spat, blood red eyes glowing through her platinum blonde hair, glaring at the newcomer.

"Oh, where are my manners?" The armored man asked, glancing at the soldiers still holding the human between them. "My name is Fred, SPARTAN II, service tag 104. I trained here, on Reach, with the rest of the Spartans in the SPARTAN II program. Now, answer my questions, or this one dies." The newly-identified Fred, if that was his actual name, pulled out what looked like a small hand cannon and pushed it up against the Human's neck.

"Ha, good luck, I have no idea who that even is." The Awoken said, feigning ignorance, hoping beyond hope that this 'Fred' would simply release the Human, but no such luck.

"Oh, okay then, well if you don't know her, then she is of no use to me, all she's doing is napping and taking up my valuable time and dungeon space. So I'll just kill her then, alright? So, in 5…" The Warlock started to sweat, looking for a way out, but couldn't see a viable option. "4…" She looked at her shoulder. "3…" Maybe if she used her super, she could get out of the bonds, kill these three, grab Delta Phantom, and run. "3…" Deciding on the course of action, she began looking inside of herself, trying to find the little nub of energy that was her super. "2…" she found it, but it was blocked, unreachable, they must have drugged her, so that if she did escape, she'd be too weak to run, either that or her injuries were clouding her brain, maybe a combination of both. "1. Well, that's just too bad." The soldier re-positioned the gun, pointing it at the top of the unconscious female's head, and squeezed the trig-

"Stop."

Another new voice, this one female, and commanding. Footsteps. Coming down the hall. Three figures strode into the cell, making it quite cramped. One was a female in a lab coat, the new voice. One of the others was Sergeant Smith, who leered at the Awoken, an expression of victory on his face. The last was a regular soldier, dressed in forest green armor, holding a solid black briefcase.

"Dr. Halsey, what are you doing here?" Fred asked, incredulous. The two grunts holding the unconscious human moved behind the Awoken, out of her visual range. Halsey stepped forward, beckoning the soldier holding the briefcase. The soldier opened the briefcase, displaying a velvet lined interior, with ten syringes filled with a glowing green liquid lined up parallel to each other.

"Well, Fred, I am simply here to make this one," here she gestured to the Awoken in the chair, "talk."

"Oh really? And how do you intend to do that?" Fred asked, moving towards Halsey and Smith, towering over both of them.

"With this," Halsey picked up one of the syringes, flicking the needle before moving over to the Awoken. "These are a truth serum I have been developing, and I figured, 'what better way to test how well they work, than in an actual interrogation?'" Halsey grabbed the Awoken's blonde hair, yanking her head to the side, and jabbed the needle into her neck roughly. The Awoken felt woozy, and began sweating profusely.

"Who are you?" Halsey asked leaning down to stare directly into the Awoken's eyes.

"G-go to hell." she said, and spat in Halsey's face. Halsey wiped the filth from her eyes, and grabbed another syringe, plunging it into the alien's neck.

"Now then, please, who are you?" Halsey asked again, pulling out a chair from somewhere, the Awoken being too delirious fighting the serum to pay attention to where.

"I'll nev-*pant*-never, ah, t-tell you." The Awoken began having trouble speaking while fighting the serum, trying to stay in control of her mind, while also trying to ignore the pain from her wounds. Halsey stood again, grabbing another syringe and moving behind the Awoken.

"hmm… you have a strong will. No one else has been able to retain control from the serum, especially not two doses, and definitely not when they were wounded as badly as you are. Impressive..." Halsey commented, talking as though the Awoken were nothing more than an insect that she had tried to drown, only to have it swim away. Halsey gripped the Awoken's hair again, jerking her head to the side, and stabbing a needle once more into her neck, and pushing on the plunger.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Halsey asked, moving back to her seat. "Who are you?"

The Awoken slumped forward in her seat, the serum finally taking its toll on her. Then, she perked back up, her eyes dull, glassy and vacant, having lost their shine, staring off at some point in the distance.

"I am Phyrra Tensai, Warlock Sunsinger, ID Delta Phoenix, Fireteam Delta's medic; I am the Eternal Flame, Silencer of Ir Yut the Deathsinger, the Awoken Rebel, Guardian of the Traveler and Wielder of the Light." her voice was flat and cold, devoid of any thought or feeling. Halsey nodded in approval.

"See? That wasn't so difficult was it? Now, who is this?" here, Halsey gestured towards the figure slumped between the two guards. Phyrra glanced over, taking in the human. She looked back at Dr. Halsey, and said,

"Sara, Hunter Bladedancer, ID Delta Phantom, Fireteam Delta's Sniper; Champion of the Vault of Glass, Killer of Atheon the Timebender, Bane of the Vex, Guardian of the Traveler, and Wielder of the Light." At the words, the human stirred, lifting her head slightly, her steel-gray eyes flickering open, and then she began to struggle, only to be clubbed in the head by Fred's tiny handcannon, falling unconscious yet again.

"Where did you come from?"

"I came from another dimension, The Last City, on Earth." Halsey seemed taken aback, as did Fred, Smith, and the soldiers. Once she had composed herself, Halsey pressed on.

"Another dimension, huh? Interesting. How did you get here? And why did you come?"

"Dead Orbit sent us, by harvesting Vex trans-dimensional tech; we tore open a Rift, a hole in the fabric of reality. The Tower deployed one of its best fireteams, Fireteam Delta, into the Rift to discern if the new universe was a viable candidate for a city-wide evacuation, in a desperate attempt to save ourselves before the next attack by the Darkness."

Halsey glanced at her companions, who seemed just as confused as she was.

"Dead Orbit? Vex? The Tower? The Darkness? What are these things? Elaborate."

"Dead Orbit is one of the three factions of the city; they are committed to leaving Earth for a new home world before The Darkness returns; they believe that the City's only chance of survival is to flee. The Vex are an ancient cyborg species linked together and governed by the Vex Minds, high-level Vex units that control and oversee a million other Vex units, The Vex have technology far beyond what the Humans, Awoken, and Exo races are capable of. The Vex can instantly warp themselves through space and time using transfer gates. Peaceful attempts have been made towards the Vex, but all have failed due to the Vex's single purpose of expanding their species throughout the galaxy, crushing anything that comes in their way. The Tower is the home of the Guardians, where they can regroup, learn, and form new alliances before venturing beyond. The Darkness is the ancient enemy of the Traveler, and the cause of the Collapse, the cataclysmic end to humanity's Golden Age." During this speech, the awoken's gaze shifted from the wall to Halsey, the Warlock still fighting for control.

"Do you intend to hurt us?"

"We didn't, but any action taken against us will be met with lethal force."

"Interesting. How many of you came across this 'Rift'?"

"Fireteam Delta consists of three members, as do all standard Guardian Fireteams."

"Three? We only captured you two. I can only assume that the third was in the third ship." Halsey stated, leaning back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. The awoken perked up at this, staring straight at Halsey.

"Delta Leader is still out there?" she asked; it was the first independent statement she had uttered since the serum had been administered.

"Yes… who is 'Delta Leader'? What makes them so important?"

"Exo Designation 7165, model 1.2, Titan Striker; Leader of Fireteam Delta, Champion of the Exos, Slayer of Crota, Hero of the Fallen Conflict, Hunter of Devils, Killer of Kings, founder of the Krotr guild, Guardian of the Traveler, and Wielder of the Light. Should you attempt anything, 7 will make your blood fall like rain, there will be nothing you can do to stop him, and he is already on his way, so you should either let us go, or die." Halsey blinked, and Fred's grip tightened around his gun.

"We are equipped for a full-scale invasion, including insurgency and planetary cataclysm. No single soldier is going to break these walls." Halsey stated, seemingly to reassure herself as much as the others in the room.

"You've obviously never seen an angry Guardian, and never met 7."

"You keep saying that word. What exactly is a Guardian?"

"The origin of the Guardians goes back to the origins of the City itself. In the wars following the Collapse, the fall of the Golden Age of humanity, Guardians were those who wielded the Light in defense of the Traveler and Humanity. The current Guardians are chosen from the ancient dead, by the Ghosts of the Traveler, and they have defended the Last City for centuries."

"Chosen from the ancient dead? Ghosts? Do you mean to tell me that these Guardians are resurrected from the dead?" Halsey leaned forward, along with the soldiers in the room.

"Yes, Ghosts use the Light of the Traveler to revive deceased Guardians." The Awoken nodded.

"We need to speed this up, she's becoming more lucid."

"So what? We can just give it another dose." Fred said, grabbing the briefcase containing the serum.

"No, she's already dangerously over the maximum dosage. Another shot could kill her." Halsey responded. The guard who had brought the serum in snatched it back from Fred, backing away when Fred rose, threatening him. Halsey waved at them to play nice. "Are you one of these Guardians?"

"Yes."

"So you were dead once?"

"Yes." The awoken nodded, and her response caused the others in the room to recoil slightly; after all, it's not every day that you find out the person you were interrogating was a zombie.

"So if you were dead, and were revived by a Ghost, then where is this Ghost now?" Phyrra frowned, shaking her head, as if there was water stuck in her ears. "Great, the serum is wearing off; she's actively fighting it now." Halsey stepped forward, grabbing the alien's jaw and jerking her head up to stare directly into her eyes, which were slowly regaining their glow. "Where is your Ghost?!" The Guardian shook her head.

"That I'll never say. The bond between a Guardian and their Ghost is unbreakable. No self-respecting Guardian would ever sacrifice their Ghost, for the Ghost is their greatest ally, and tie to the Light."

"Damn. The serum wore off." Halsey turned back to the door, and began walking out, the guard holding the briefcase following behind. Before she exited, however, Halsey turned to Fred and Sergeant Smith.

"Begin preparations for defense, if this'7' is coming, I want us ready for his arrival, just in case." The two snapped to attention, saluting the woman as she walked out.

"Alright, Sergeant, begin prepping the perimeter defenses, I'll inform the SPARTAN teams, we're gonna send out multiple groups to hunt him down before he even gets here." Fred said, heading out of the cell.

"What'll I do with her?" Smith asked, pointing to the unconscious human, still being supported by the two soldiers.

"Leave her here, and have a squad patrol the area every once in a while. Do not let them escape." Fred said, barely acknowledging the question. The two soldiers supporting Ghost dropped her, moving towards the door to help raise the defenses of the base. Smith following shortly after, locking the door and raising the plasma shield, stolen technology form the Covenant, behind him.

7 waited in the trees, watching the troop of soldiers below him. From what he had seen of them so far, these soldiers weren't anything like Guardians. Their military system seemed to be more like the Old Earth military back in his universe, before the arrival of the Traveler and the Golden Age. The majority of the soldiers were simple humans, without any powers or increased abilities. Others, he thought they were called Spartans, were super soldiers, with augmented speed, strength, intelligence, and size. These Spartans were highly militarized, obviously having been involved in the military for a while, which made no sense, as most were mildly young, the only sensible explanation was that they had been recruited while they were still children. Which sickened him; no child should grow up with the sole purpose of becoming a soldier. The Exo glanced at the soldiers below him again.

"Ghost, give me a full scan of those soldiers, I want armor, abilities, and weapon statistics." He said, turning to the branch on his right, where a brown orb rested, looking like nothing more than a giant meatball.

"This is embarrassing, I look ridiculous." The Ghost said, rising from where it was sitting.

"It's called camouflage; it'll hide you from view, as long as no one is looking closely." 7 rolled his eyes, "Now about that scan." The Orb expanded slightly, sending out a faint blue ray of light, scanning the militants below.

"Thirteen contacts, in Standard military gear, their armor's plasma and bullet resistant, but your Mythoclast should be able to punch through it. Primitive arms, utilizing metal-based ammunition, three medium-to-long ranged single shot rifles, one medium ranged semi automatic rifle, and nine medium ranged assault rifles. Scans found no augmented abilities, although they did pick up communication, visual/audio recording, motion sensors, ally radar, and HUD equipment in their helmets. We can't pick them off one-by-one, I can block their signals to each other and their over watch, but past that, I don't see how I can be useful."

"Oh, that'll do nicely, when I say, redirect all communications to me, and link me to their comms channels" The Guardian said, turning to look at the Ghost. "Alright, here is the plan…"

As I walked through the forests of Reach with my squad, I wondered why ONI sent us out, especially without a single Spartan to back us up. All of the other groups had at least one Spartan with them, one of the hunting parties even being made up entirely of the Super-Soldiers. I gestured for the squad to spread out, and they followed my orders without hesitation, spreading through the trees to look for tracks or other signs that the alien had been through here.

'What is so important about this guy anyway? It's just a single target, why all these teams and squads to look for him? It doesn't make any sense.' I thought to myself, suddenly I heard a rustle. I quickly glance around to look at the trees, which for some reason seemed much closer than they had before. I shook my head, dismissing it as just my imagination.

"Tango party, sound off." I say, activating my microphone. "Tango Leader, checking in"

"Tango two, nothing here." Jane says her audio crackling.

"Tango three, nothing to report," Jack has his microphone too close to his mouth again, obscuring his speech slightly

"Tango four, nothing this way,"

"Tango five, nothing but a couple rabbits,"

"Tango six, I haven't fou-URK!" the transmission cut off, the line going dead.

"Alex? ALEX! Tango, converge on six's position!" I shout, turning and running towards the green circle that marked where six was. When I arrived, I found the rest of my squad standing in a circle. Pushing my way through them, I saw Alex Hutcherson, there were four small holes in each of his legs; the bolts must have punched through his right leg and into his left. The holes were small and precise, the sides burning slightly, his armor glowing around the wounds, with the wounds having cauterized behind the bolts. Not lead bullets than, most likely plasma or maybe even lasers. A bruise was forming across the right side of his face, going from his jaw to the underside of his right eye, spanning from his right ear to the bridge of his nose, whatever hit him, hit him hard. I kneeled, checking his pulse. He was still alive.

"Eyes up Tango!" I shout, standing and bringing my gun up to my shoulder, putting my finger around the trigger, "whoever did this is still here, stay within eyeshot of each other, and shoot anything that isn't Tango." The squad began moving apart, but didn't get far. A large soldier dropped from the trees above us, landing on the marine next to me, knocking her out cold. The man rose, and brought his gun up; a strange bronze thing that flowed and separated in seemingly random areas, coming together in a short nozzle that glowed slightly red. The man drew himself up to his full height, standing at least a foot above me, the size of a SPARTAN II. His armor was strange, mostly black with glowing red gaps between the plating. The armor on his arms was mostly chainmail, but had plating on his forearms and shoulders, although the plate on his right shoulder was nearly twice as large and dark brown, with a long knife holder running parallel to the shoulder, jutting out nearly a foot. His chest plate came forwards quite a bit as well, with tubes running under his pectorals, connecting to a large construct on his back. The construct consisted of a large box-like structure, housing three canisters, and some wiring and piping, it had thrusters and nozzles under the construct, with flaps on the side, for directional control. If I had to guess, I would say it was a jetpack. His greaves were separated into three sections, thigh, kneecap, and calf. The kneecaps were raised above the calf armor, jutting outwards. The right leg differed from the left, the right kneecap piece being brown instead of black, and there being no thigh armor, simply being chainmail. His helmet was the strangest part of his armor, all black save for a brown visor that spanned across the top, providing a 180 degree sightline, but shaded so that one couldn't see his face, two black wings spanned from the sides of the helmet, extending over the man's broad shoulders. Around his waist was a strange belt, a hunting knife attached on the right side, running along the belt, two orbs, most likely grenades, hung on the left side, and two long cylinders were clipped onto the back right, probably flash-bangs or thermal charges. A red piece of fabric with a strange white design hung on the right side, beneath the belt, with loose chainmail hanging below it, ending at the kneecap. A side arm was attached to his left thigh, and a rocket launcher was strapped to his back. A shotgun made out of what appeared to be gray skulls was attached to his right leg, held in place by a modified back holster. One of my men on the other side of him opened fire, assault rifle blazing and bullets bouncing off of the man as if they were nothing but foam balls thrown by small children. Without turning to look, the armored man drew the handgun strapped to his thigh and shot the marine through his kneecap, a blue beam arcing across the gap between the gun and the man's leg. The marine fell, howling in agony. I opened a communications link, hailing ONI headquarters.

"This is Tango to ONI HICOM! We've found him! We've got the alien, but he's taking out my squad with ease! Reinforcements required! I need Spartans! ONI, respond!" I shout into my microphone. A metallic voice responds back, a chuckle evident in its voice.

"I'm flattered, really, that you realize how badly you are outmatched, but I'm afraid no help is coming for you. I won't kill you or your men, but know this: should my comrades not be returned to me completely unharmed, you will long for death." I stared at the man, no, the soldier before me, he who towered over me and my men, who apparently had the power to block secure channels without a second thought. We stood no chance against him, and I knew that.

"Tango, retreat! Scatter and flee! Return to headquarters!" I shout, turning and running for the bushes, firing my DMR behind me to distract the soldier. He was unfazed, walking through the high powered shots as if they were nothing more than drops of water. He laughed, shaking his head in annoyance, and once more, his voice came through my headset.

"Oh, excellent. I love a good hunt, perhaps not as much as Sara, but still enough that I find it quite satisfactory to bring down my prey." The soldier vanished, jumping high into the trees. I paused, not knowing where he would attack from, before I heard a crash and screaming to my left, followed by the sound of gunfire. I ran towards the sound, only to come into a small clearing where my men had been cornered by the large soldier. Two of them lay in the dirt. Five more soldiers firing at the man moving steadily towards them, unfazed by the bullets pinging against his armor. He stepped up to the first man, grabbing him around the middle before raising the man above his head and smashing him into the ground. The man landed with a crack, his bones breaking on impact, the man falling unconscious quickly from the pain. The second man received a kick to the shin, and went down, the soldier taking the marine's assault rifle and shooting him through all of his limbs, blood splattering across his legs, the red liquid running down his black armor.

"Ugh, messy and primitive." Came the man's voice in my helmet, his metallic speech was sure to haunt my dreams. The man turned to me, and laughed, the sound echoing around in his helmet and resounding across the clearing and through our helmet speakers. I checked my HUD, and saw the rest of Tango squad closing in on the clearing, ignoring my orders, or perhaps they hadn't even gotten them. A bullet hit the soldier in his helmet, his head bending slightly with the force of the bullet. Without even flinching, the soldier turned, sweeping low, and opened fire with the assault rifle, the bullets tearing through the flora and through the soldiers themselves, ripping through their legs and forcing them to the ground. Around the clearing, the remainder of Tango squad opened fire, bullets raining down on the man in the middle of the clearing. I brought up my own gun, firing shot after shot into the soldier. The man staggered back, falling to one knee, before struggling to his feet. He looked at me, and I could feel his gaze boring into me. He rose fully to his feet, before shouting;

"I WILL NOT FAIL; I WILL DESTROY THOSE WHO STAND AGAINST ME!" The man jumped in the air, bringing his fists down to impact the ground. From where they his fists connected, a wave of blue energy traveled outwards, staying close to the ground. When the wave hit me, I was pushed backwards, the force of the blast throwing me out of the clearing, and tossing me into a tree. As the shockwave hit the trees and the soldiers therein, the trees were pushed backwards, leaning at almost 10 degree angles off the ground, my squad of marines being knocked unconscious either by the force of the blast or from impacting the trees behind them. I struggled to my feet, trying to stand and protect my currently defenseless crew. My HUD and radar had stopped working, My helmet was still intact, but the visor was shattered. The man rose, turning to look at me, and walked over.

"Wha-Wh-What are you?" I stammered, as the man picked me up as if I weighed little more than a sack of potatoes. The man reached for his helmet, unhooked it from his chest piece, and pulled it off. I gasped in horror. This was no man, but a machine, the robot was brick red, with pale blue 'eyes'. He had a white array of lights behind what could only have been a mouth. The droid also had a large, triangular plate on his forehead, which dipped down over his eyes, Making him appear angry, as though wiping the floor with my squad of marines was an annoying chore that ruined his afternoon, when he could have been sitting at home watching TV and drinking some soda. On his cheek was a large, white '7'. His face showed signs of damage, the paint chipped and rust showing on a diagonal slash pattern that started on the top right of his face and ended below the jaw on his left. I screamed, struggling to get away from this abomination. He chuckled, and, reattaching his helmet, threw me over his shoulder, clasping his hand around my belt to hold me in place, and began walking, carrying me out of the forest and leaving my squad, most of them unconscious, but all of them wounded, in the forest.

"Wait! You can't leave them here! They're all wounded, and need medical attention! You said that you wouldn't kill us!" I shouted, banging on his armor to get his attention. The machine looked at me in disdain, probably cursing my weak humanity.

"I won't. I blocked all of your communications to your 'ONI'," here I gasped; if this thing knew about ONI... that, was very, very bad, "but I did activate all of your video feeds, on a five minute delay, to be sent to ONI base. Soon your superiors will watch what just happened, and know that I am not making empty threats. They will release my comrades, or they will be destroyed. The choice is entirely up to them." The robot looked back at me with his cold, blue eyes, and I almost thought I saw pity in his face, but that was impossible, wasn't it? This was a robot, incapable of emotions, right? I must have been imagining things. "Should ONI not see reason, I will use you as leverage, and use your knowledge of ONI to capture more hostages, perhaps even some of the 'Spartans' that I keep hearing so much about." The robot chuckled again, and we reached the edge of the forest, where he turned towards Mt. Collins, and began walking towards the looming mountain.

The Exo carried the Human towards the farm, trekking through the fields and farmland of the area. Throughout the journey, the woman was silent, most likely thinking of how to get away or get a message back to ONI headquarters. After half an hour of travel, the woman finally spoke.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked, her tone not scared, as the Exo had expected, but rather even and level. The Exo stopped, setting down the soldier, where she staggered, adjusting to carrying her own weight as the blood returned to normal circulation, leaving her head.

"I am taking you t-" the Exo stopped, remembering something. He grabbed the soldier's helmet, ripping it off of her head, allowing her long blonde hair to fall downwards, where it reached her lower back. The Exo crushed the helmet between his hands, allowing the remnants to fall to the floor. "Almost forgot to do that," he chuckled, before answering her question, "I am taking you to an abandoned farm over that way," he gestured towards the mountain, "Where I have set up a small shelter in a fallout bunker."

"Why did you break my helmet?" The marine pointed towards the warped metal and crushed glass at their feet.

"I realized that ONI might still be watching the feed. I should have destroyed it before we left." The Exo explained, "We must continue, I wish to reach the bunker before nightfall." He reached for the woman's waist, preparing to sling her over his shoulder again.

"No." The soldier stated, backing away from the Exo.

"Pardon?" The Exo asked, rising to his full height and drawing his sidearm, should the marine think to run.

"I can walk on my own. I will not try to run, and if I do, you can always shoot me." She stated, staring defiantly up at him.

"Very well, but any deviation from the course will be taken as an act of violence, and will be dealt with accordingly." The robot said, gesturing for the woman to begin walking, and holstering his gun.

"Thank you," the Human began walking in the direction of the mountain, staying in front of the alien. "So what is your name, if you have one?" she asked, turning slightly to look at the Exo, but continuing walking.

"As an Exo, we choose our names upon our creation, deciding upon what we wish to be called for the rest of our existences within the first few moments. I, however, decided not to choose a name, instead resigning to my Designation, the number given to those of my species when they are created. My Designation is 7165, although people have come to call me Exo Designation 7165, model 1.2, Titan Striker; Leader of Fireteam Delta, Champion of the Exos, Slayer of Crota, Hero of the Fallen Conflict, Hunter of Devils, Killer of Kings, founder of the Krotr guild, Guardian of the Traveler, and Wielder of the Light. A rather cumbersome name, but honor and tradition must be upheld, thus everything of worth a Guardian does is added to their Title. You may call me 7, as do the members of my Fireteam." The Exo replied, and then looked down at her, "May I inquire as to your appellation?"

"My what?!" She asked, stopping to turn and look at him.

"Proceed with your forward momentum." He pushed on her shoulder lightly, an indication that he wanted her to keep walking, then answered, "appellation; an identifying name or title, synonyms include denotation, moniker, and label."

"Oh." She said, starting forward, "My name is Rebecca Halls, Tango Squad leader for ONI Headquarters Reach, but my friends call me Becca."

"Very well Rebecca Halls." The machine said, continuing walking without pause, seeming determined to reach the bunker. A long silence followed, which to Rebecca seemed wrought with tension.

"What are you exactly?" She asked.

"I am an Exo, a self-aware war machine built in humanity's image. The Exo race was built for a long-forgotten struggle, a war that none of my race can remember. Not even we are aware of our innermost functions, and have no recollection of our creation." 7 replied, not looking down, instead continuing to stare at the mountain, and their destination.

"Why are you here? I've never even heard of anything like you; you fought like a machine, I've nev- Oh. You are a machine. Can you feel pain? Or emotions?" Rebecca asked, looking up at the robot behind her.

"My wiring and sensors detect damage to my chassis, and relay the information to my main computer, which registers as pain, although I can deactivate this at will, nullifying any limitations in combat caused by non-critical damage to my chassis. My central computer contains programs that simulate emotions, allowing me the full range of human feelings, which activate automatically to outside stimuli. So yes, I can feel pain."

"Why are you here?"

"You have more questions than a tree has leaves." 7 chuckled, looking down at Rebecca, "Fireteam Delta was deployed by Dead Orbit to seek out a possible escape route into parallel universes; we are the first Fireteam of the Tower to ever utilize the Rift in parallel universe travel."

"Alright, bu-" Rebecca began, only to be cut off by the Exo.

"We have arrived. Ghost, open the bunker." The machine said, opening out his palm, from which a small orb dispensed, seeming to materialize out of thin air. This orb flew towards a small hatch in the side of a barn. The doors to the hatch flew open, allowing entrance to the orb, which flew in. 7 pushed Rebecca towards the hatch, pulling out his bronze gun to prod at her when she hesitated. "Enter the Bunker." He commanded, and then picked her up and carried her into it when she remained still. He laid her down on one of the cots in the bunker, and sat on one of the benches to the side, opening up a hatch on the side of his head to connect it to an open cable in the wall, beginning to recharge his batteries. Rebecca stood, sitting down across from the robot, who simply looked at her. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off.

"You had best get some sleep, morning will arrive soon, and tomorrow we march to ONI Headquarters, where I will trade you in exchange for my friends, lest I crack open their stronghold like a ripe gourd, free my Fireteam, and kill everything that stands in my way."

A/N: Well, there is chapter 2, I would like to thank everyone who submitted an OC, it was hard to select only two, but I managed to do it. Phyrra Tensai belongs to N0W 0R N3V3R and Sara belongs to Mercy Smith. Rebecca will most likely not play a large role in the story; I'm thinking of killing her off in the next few chapters, actually. I have started a poll on my profile, vote for whether or not you want her to die, and how you want her to die. I'm unsure of the rating of this story, I might bump it up to M just to be safe, but for now I think I'll keep it at T. The chapter itself was (in the first draft) 6,000 words, exactly. I don't know what it is now, but what I do know, is that that number has most likely grown, making this one of the longest things I have ever written. The real question is why can't I write like this in Language Arts? Right? I mean, the one place where writing is actually important, I can't think of anything to write, and yet here I am writing 12 page chapters for a fanfiction, that probably has, at most, 14 readers. OC admissions are now closed, but hold onto those characters, because there could very well be a sequel, or perhaps a Fireteam sent after Delta. I don't know, I will have most, if not all, other OCs mentioned, but not have them appear. I don't know. I have the plot for Arc 1 ironed out, and most of Arc 2, Arc 3 is coming along, but Arc 4 is completely up in the air. There might not even be any Arcs following Arc 1. I might be splitting the arcs into separate books, or I might not. I have no idea. Actually, you know what? I'll poll that too. That's right; I have 3 polls on my page. Go check them out, and vote. I'd also like to thank all those who helped me; Cheesesack, my grammar and spelling BETA, and N0W 0R N3V3R, my accuracy BETA, actually, they are going on a 2-month hiatus, so I'll need a temporary accuracy BETA, pretty much the only requirements are they have to be willing to help and have to be well-versed in HALO lore, but iLarryyy is my temporary grammar and spelling BETA. Also, I'm still looking for that reader to help me with actual reader response, giving me an unbiased opinion on how the chapters are, and where I can improve. Wow, now that I think about it, there are a lot of people who are invested in this fanfiction; I have 3 people working directly on this, including me, with two more helping with plot and encouraging me to continue, two temporary BETAs, and if I can get that reader response helper, and the temporary accuracy BETA, that's 9, well you know what they say; it takes a village (yes I'm calling this story my child). So I'm talking to YOU now, yeah YOU. Drop me a line; give me some kind of signal that you are enjoying the fic. I know that now that I said that you're probably thinking "Oh, someone else will do it," or "now that he's said that, I won't, just because he asked and im'ma spite him," because if everyone thinks this, I won't get any feedback and be very sad, thinking that nobody likes my story, and then it'll get discontinued, and I'll be crying myself to sleep at night, and ya'll don't want that… probably. Anyway, Follow, Favorite and/or Review, and I'll see ya'll next time!