XXxxXX

WATCHTOWER, IN ORBIT OF EARTH

Trying to remove the weapons was far more difficult than Bruce had thought. They had been literally fused into the back plate of the armour. The Dark Knight pondered whether he should get Diana to tear them off, but realized it was not the best course of action. The armoured entitles would most likely wake up.

He turned his gaze back to the containment room, where the two beings lay. He could read the facial expressions off M'gann. It was the face of someone being overwhelmed with powerful emotions.

…

"John!" It was his mother. He was playing in the sand, watching a flight of Pelican Dropships fly by. The sun was setting, and it was time to go back.

M'gann smiled at the memory. His mother was human, and it confirmed her earlier impressions. She was beautiful, with her long ebony hair and flowing dress. The Martian felt his emotions of happiness and peace.

Each memory was more than just a memory. M'gann would feel the person's emotions, and learn their knowledge, in effect; every memory was in context for her. A small glimmer of someone's memory could give her vast amounts of information, all because of context.

Delving deeper into his mind, M'orzz could see the pulsing blue streaks spread across the realm. It gave her the impression of a biological and cybernetic brain, merged into one entity. A mind like that was always more organized than a purely biological brain. Every shard of memory, every shred of knowledge, was perfectly archived and intricate in detail.

"You're in trouble!" a boy teased. This one was shorter than him by at least a head. He turned to face a woman. She was striking and elegant in appearance. Behind her, stood a man who appeared to be in the military, despite his grey civilian suit.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"John," the boy replied curtly, he held out his hand for a handshake.

M'gann could see that he was polite. But his memories, the technology, they all suggested that he was from a far more technological advanced society. The transports in his earlier memories were already a clear indication. John's mind referred to them as Pelican Dropships. But his mind did not refer to any metas. She wondered if he was from an alternate reality. May be it was a bit hasty to conclude so, but no references to metas, and a higher technological tier, would suggest an inter-dimensional traveler. Either that or that metas had been wiped out in the future, doubtful but a possibility.

"What is it?" John asked, looking at the small disc like object, glimmering in the sun. The Martian instantly recognized it as an American quarter. The fact that John was not instantly familiar with it served to confirm M'gann's hypothesis.

More memories flew by, but the next one made her blood run cold and her green skin prickle. John felt tired, but something was wrong, he wasn't in his bed, he was in a cot.

"Get up trainee!" An instructor bellowed.

John didn't move he as too tired to. He yelped and his body tensed as he felt a stun baton jam into his sides.

Conscripts, the children had been conscripted. M'gann felt her heart rate increase rapidly. Never before had she witnessed something like this. These children were going to be turned into soldiers. She felt sick, but she couldn't leave his mind, not yet. There was so much.

She gazed across the memories as he was assigned into a team of three. His memories said that his teammates were Kelly and Sam. Kelly was a beautiful girl with hazel eyes and shoulder brown hair; she towered over the two boys by at least a head. Sam was of a slightly heavier build than John, and had black hair.

"If you're team doesn't win, neither will you," Chief Mendez said.

John frowned, his team came last, and that meant that they weren't going to be getting any dinner.

M'gann watched as John endured one of the most brutal training regimes she had ever seen, even by adult standards. These kids were trained with fear, pushed beyond their limits. But there was something that set them apart from their average brethren. These children were perfect; they were smart, fast and strong. Those attributes were only further enhanced with the best education and nourishment.

"Friends?" Sam asked.

"Friends," John and Kelly agreed.

John looked at the obstacles course built into the woods. The sun was beating down heavily on the green leaves, and the winds rocked the ropes back and forth.

"Same rules as last time, first team to the bell wins," Mendez barked.

Planning his team's moves, and having a desire to win, John formulated a plan. "We need someone to get to the basket and hold it for us."

"I'm fast," Kelly said, accepting the task.

"Okay, you're up. Get to that basket," John said, assuming the role of team leader.

Mendez signaled the go and Kelly shot off. In the span of just a few seconds, she was already outpacing the rest of the group. Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran across the grass. Upon reaching the basket, she was set upon by another team's vanguard.

"Wait your turn!" Sam hissed, shoving the boy aside before getting into the basket with John and Kelly. The trio used their strength to pull the ropes and lift themselves into the sky.

Shock, horror, disgust, these were the emotions that were coursing throughout the Martian. These exercises were dangerous, there were no safety precautions, but thankfully, no one had gotten themselves hurt. As the memories flowed by, it became all the more clearer to what these children were destined to be… the perfect soldiers.

She watched as John guided the group of children through the valleys of the planet Reach, and executed military drills flawlessly. He was a born leader, and a brilliant tactician, he cared for his people and left no one behind.

John let a small grin sweep over his lips as the trap went off. The battery acid has weakened the wooden ply boards of Tango Company's makeshift base, allowing the flash bang grenades to disorientate and rain the soldiers with splinters. He quickly waved his team forward as they moved into capture the flag.

Watching Kelly take out a few guards with Narq darts, John sprinted up to the building across the courtyard, and slammed the Garrison CO against the wall, knocking him out cold. Another guard, a few dozen metres away waved his rifle at John and prepared to fire. But before he could pull the trigger, he dropped his rifle and grabbed the back of his head. Falling face first into the gravel, he thrashed about. John sent a silent thanks to Linda and her superb marksman ship.

Running back to the centre of the courtyard, John quickly grabbed the flag and stuffed it into his shirt. He had won again… well not yet.

"I think they were using live rounds that time," Sam chuckled, "I think they're mad."

Kelly smirked as she picked up an empty shell and twirled it around her fingers. "Yep."

The kids were undoubtedly perfect, by their early teens; they had bodies of 18 year old Olympic athletes. It was something M'gann respected greatly, but also appalled.

Their education was accelerated and meticulous, by age eight; they knew how to do calculus. By age ten, they knew how to do mathematical induction, and had learnt the entire history of the UNSC/UEG. It gave M'gann a clearer picture, and she finally understood.

During man's expansion, old feuds broke out. Extremists of both ends of the political spectrum were fighting each other and the centralist-democratic UEG/UNSC. It saddened M'gann greatly to see such horrific violence amongst mankind.

Men and women slugged it out in battles of attrition all over Sol System. But it was the UNSC who prevailed; they used blitzkrieg tactics to overwhelm the opposition. Soldiers dropped in atmospheric re-entry pods over Mars and Earth, and rushed into the heat of battle with their weapons blazing. All these footage and lessons had been etched into John's eidetic mind.

Humanity expanded further into the stars with the help of Slipstream Space Drives. But even though the UNSC had won, man's inner turmoil was only abated for a time. Expanding across systems, new foes arose. Terrorist attacks spread across dense civilian populations, destabilizing dozens of regions.

M'gann could finally grasp the purpose of conscripting children. It all became clear to her. Watching John's memories, she knew that it was the UNSC's last resort against the Insurrectionism. They were to be turned into Supersoldiers and pacify the outer colonies.

Hazy, everything was hazy. Doctors and technicians moved back and forth through the darkened hall. John could hear the screams of Spartan brothers and sisters. Bones cracked, skins tore, his hearing became more sensitive, but his ears hurt. He forced his eyes opened, but felt the strain. It was like a bittersweet sensation throughout his body.

He was in pain, but couldn't cry out. His body was on fire, but at the same time, under the flow of cold water… bittersweet pain. John felt as more needles pierce his skin. He heard the whine of a drill as it dug into his bones.

Indescribable sensations of pain and awe swept across him, John could feel himself fading out again. He couldn't fight the darkness this time, and decided to embrace it.

They weren't mindless, that much was clear. They were taught to think, but at the same time, they were mentally conditioned with the ethos of military life. It wasn't difficult, children are always more susceptible to indoctrination.

M'gann saw memories in context, thus she could understand what John was going through. He was being augmented with everything the UNSC had. She felt his pain, his sadness as he hears his comrades in pain, but she could feel his undying loyalty. She could guess that augmentations are most effective on a growing body. John's enhancements would grow with him, making him stronger as time passed. But there were those, who would never be able to join him.

"Soren…. I don't know what will happen to him. Desk job I guess," Kelly shrugged.

"He can always come along with us if he wants," John said.

"He might slow us down," Sam suggested, taking a drink of water.

Soren and John had a mutual understanding, and were friendly towards one another. The former was excellent in the arts of evasion; it made him one of the best for long-range reconnaissance and monitor. The later was a natural leader and brilliant tactician, able to outsmart many adversaries he came across.

Moving further on into his memories she saw their effectiveness in combat, how easily he took down ODST Soldiers. How easy it was for them to pacify an Insurrectionist Asteroid. They tore through humans as if they weren't there. But the following memories that came, M'gann began to weep. Humanity was at war with not only themselves, but a conglomerate of alien species known as the Covenant.

John's memories served to paint her a vast and intricate picture. It was a war filled with politics and religious beliefs; it was a war that was filled with so much destruction.

The war officially ended on March 23rd 2552, and in the sea of remembrance, M'gann felt John's weariness. She felt his desire for the war to end. She felt his senses that the war was going to end soon, one way or another. But most of all, she felt his loss.

However, there was no rest for the weary, and on John fought within Requiem. The memories explained humanity's rich past and power. They showed her what most movies neglected to show… the brutality, ruthlessness and speed of human expansion. Though what stood out most was the despair that filled him at the loss of Cortana.

"I'm not going back," the AI said softly, "most of me is down there, I only held enough back for you to get off the ship."

Memories of the Flood and the Forerunner surged passed her, everything that John had seen, M'gann saw in a short time frame. But the information stopped flowing. The Martian felt her grip on the Spartan's mind slacken. Lattices of cobalt blue began to intensify, forming a wall, and expanding outwards.

The Spartan's mind was reacting; it was fighting against an unknown presence.

"M'gann get out of there!" Dick urged over the COM, "they're waking up!"

Upon witnessing the last memory, M'gann screamed out a warning. "They're armed!"

…

John breathed as his eyes shot open. Bright lights assaulted his eyes as he regained his bearings. Information from his armour flooded through his neural implants whilst simultaneously splayed across his HUD.

Location, unkown. Weapons, still in repairs. Armour fully functional.

He tried to move, but realised that he was secured onto a bench of some kind. He felt a presence leaving his mind, it was like that feeling when he would pull Cortana out of his armour. John turned and saw a very human but alien figure looking at him with shock and tears streaming down her face.

She had her brown hair cut into a page-boy style. Her eyes were brown and stood out against her green skin that was dotted with freckles. From a distance, she would seem innocent, but John knew that her innocence had evaporated a long time ago. But then, for same unexplained reason, she faded from sight. He concluded that it was the after-effects of being knocked unconscious.

The suit's functionality flooded his senses; magnetic coils along his gauntlets glowed and collected superdense plasma at its ends, melting through the restraints. Quickly, John tore himself free, and lunged straight at Soren.

The Fallen Spartan had awoken and was in the process of freeing himself, when the Chief slammed into his body.

John slammed Soren into the bench repeatedly, draining the former Spartan's shields. But without forewarning, the entire chamber was engulfed in a powerful light, and soon, John found himself in a freefall to the lower levels. Apparently the Cyclops Armour packed some safeguards as well.

The two superhumans landed onto the grey metal decks with a resounding thud. John quickly noted the people dressed in costumes and the various unidentified jets docked in their bays, before launching a couple of punches at Soren.

The Spartans engaged one another in a brutal melee. Soren was stronger, which meant his style was less rapid but more powerful. John being the faster one was quick on his feet, but consistently shifted his fighting stance like Li taught him.

When Soren would attack, John would dodge and sweep aside the attacks. But when going on the offensive, he would open with long sweeping acrobatic strikes before coming close for quick rapid attacks.

The Innie sympathiser swung a right hook which barely brushed past John's faceplate. The Commander flipped back and delivered a kick to the Soren's chin. Shield's flared upon impact, but since the Chief's move carried more momentum, Soren was knocked back a few paces.

John raised both arms, allowed the plasma to collect, and fire. Ghostly blue bolts streaked towards Soren and splashed across his shields, draining them considerably and leaving crackling air in their wake.

Knowing that his armour lacked any offensive capabilities, Soren engaged his thruster pack, and launched himself towards a console nearby. It was then; John noticed that he and his former friend were standing ontop of a hatch that would allow jets to drop out quickly.

He swore as he saw Soren slam the panel, in an instant, the air around them was sucked into space, taking the two superhumans along.

XXxxXX