A/N: Jennifer Hale voices Zatanna in JLU. HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THAT?

She also voices Hawkgirl in Injustice: Gods Among Us. There's an idea. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!
So to avoid confusion, this first part is in an alternate reality.

XXxxXX

"You're training Kal, Krav Maga? That seems…"
-Wonder Woman

"I'm willing to take the risk. I've seen him be hit too many times because he holds back. He needs another way."
-Batman

Wonder Woman and Batman discussing Superman's martial prowess, on the Watchtower. (Alpha Earth)

XXxxXX

NEW YORK - MANHATTAN, USA, ONE EARTH

John sat at the café, waiting for his take out order. His table was on the balcony, allowing him to enjoy the summer breeze and the beautiful skyline. Well it was beautiful, but everything changed when Superman declared himself a God. Now people lived in fear, they lived in absolute terror of the Kryptonian.

The Spartan had sworn an oath to protect humanity, to safeguard Earth and her colonies. Ultimately, he swore to uphold the interests of a democratic government which complied with all basic human rights. A cynic and a pessimist would say that John was foolish, thinking that democratic government existed, or that he as a soldier was a guardian of humanity. They would be right on certain accounts, as he was a Black Ops Project.

But those cynics and pessimists would rethink their opinions after living under Superman's regime. It was a blatant and absolute oppression of humanity. By demanding full obedience and stability, the Kryptonian had stolen man's freedom. He had stolen what defined mankind, well, what defined any sentient an self-actualised life.

"As horrible as it sounds, I never want to live in a utopia. I never want to see the day when peace becomes permanent. Because when that day comes… there's nothing left worth fighting for."

Those were the words of Arca, an Arcani Asset or ONISAD-SOG Operative that John knew back home. He had helped the Spartan track Soren down. As far as he knew though, Adrian Chen was still alive and fighting the Innies.

There was a certain irony to all this. John's entire purpose was to eradicate or at least quell the Insurrectionism, and now he was an insurrectionist. In a way, Joker had won. He had thrown the world into a twisted anarchy and unsettled a social order.

He sighed as he downed his cup of caramel milkshake. It had been Mila's favourite, and it was the last thing she had drunk before she was killed right before his eyes. John would never forget the day when Mila Evans was taken from him. Clark, no – Kal had killed her when she questioned him.

John could never prove that Superman had killed his fiancé without being marked himself. Since then, the Spartan had gone underground with Bruce Wayne. Funny how the world reacted when they realised that the biggest playboy billionaire, Prince of Gotham was actually the Dark Knight. It was absolute pandemonium, and it was like a double edged sword.

Bruce had intended the Batman to be a symbol, knowing what was under the cowl had destroyed the mysterious shroud behind the enigmatic figure. His fear factor had dropped significantly, but at the same time his ability to inspire hope had skyrocketed. The Dark Knight now stood as a symbol of unhindered and unimpeded free will, a beacon to the average person that they could make a difference.

The Spartan leaned back into his chair, eying the watch that allowed him to hide from the High Councillor and his lackeys. In the sea of New Yorkers, he was just another man dressed in a black suit and tie, bringing home dinner for him and his girlfriend. The glasses, neatly combed hair and light stubble on his jaw allowed him to blend perfectly. As far as One Government was concerned, John was dead and no longer a threat.

Oh how foolish they were indeed. The last person who could possibly give them an edge over him was dead. Miss Martian and her Uncle were both slain by the "Man" of Steel when they had protested against his actions. John's blood always boiled when he thought about his fallen friends, all of them had been killed because of their outcries.

He hated this new world order, hated it with every fibre of his being. What was once used for colourful advertisement was now used to display the oppressive messages and the emblem of One Government.

John turned his gaze skyward and saw Wonder Woman clad in Amazon livery and Champion Armour, flying overhead. He hated that woman; she was the greatest hypocrite in his mind. She sought to change a world she barely understood.

How long has she been here? She should be wiser than anyone!

She was his friend once, but that all changed when she helped Superman kill Fred and his wife, Delilah. Yes, Fred had made it into this universe. He was the sole survivor from the UNSC. No else had made it, but him. Everyone else had been killed when the Halo Array was fired. Everything had fallen apart since John left. He knew it wasn't his fault that he had ended up here, but there was no point going back now. This place, this cesspit, this poor excuse for a civilisation! Was now his home; and he was going to do everything to restore free will.

"Here you are sir, two t-bone steaks for take-away," a young waitress said. She placed the bag on the table top as John payed for the bill.

"Thanks," he said kindly. ONI had taught him well on how to blend in.

As he stood up, he draped his jacket over his bare forearm and carried the bag in the other. He walked along the boulevard, pretending to admire some of the products on display. No one threw him a second glance, not even the officers from the international law enforcement.

John reached his black SUV, and placed the food in the back seat before getting behind the wheel. He drove across Brooklyn Bridge where he reached a security checkpoint. He hated these checkpoints, they were so time consuming and easily circumvented. They were mainly just there for show. As John pulled up alongside a cinder block, the guards performed a quick sweep of the BMW X5 as he passed them his license and registration.

Upon being cleared, he gunned the engines and felt it hum as he glided down the freeway. Soon enough, the evening sky came as the high-rise gave way to suburbia. He drove along the quieter roads, and final reached Greenfields Cemetery. He slowed down as he weaved through the narrow drives.

Arriving at a hillside overlooking the entire requiem estate, John pulled over and turned off the engines. He picked up the bouquet of flowers on the passenger seat with utmost care, before stepping out of the car. He felt the soft breeze roll over his bare forearms as he walked to Mila's final resting place.

Kneeling down, he placed the flowers into the slot and gazed down at the photo smiling back at him. Mila had a heart-shaped face and full lips just like Kelly. Evans's chestnut brown hair reached her shoulders, accentuating her warm hazel brown eyes and the barely visible freckles that dotted her cheeks.

John smiled sadly as he brushed the photo. He missed her so much.

First Kelly, now Mila, he thought sadly.

He got back into the X5, and drove out of the cemetery. As he got back onto the highway, his communicator buzzed. Pressing a few keys on the dashboard, the call was rerouted to the car's speakers.

"Wilson," the Spartan greeted the Batman.

"Reynard, one of our teams has been caught. They're being transferred to a prison facility, uploading coordinates now."

"You want me to bust them out?"

"Get in, give us an opening and we'll take care of the rest."

"Got it. Rules of engagement?"

There was a pause. "The usual, try to avoid lethal force."

"And here's another thing, they have teleportation jamming equipment there."

"Does it matter?" John asked, "Any form of teleportation would show up on their sensors."

"Point taken."

The link was cut, allowing John to go back to listening to the news radio. Everything bulletin was such a white lie. Natural disaster here, house fire there, the next upcoming blockbuster movie and sports. Not a single iota about politics or the number of people being whisked away at night.

Perfect world my ass, John hissed to himself.

As he reached a town, he garnered a few looks from the populace with his car, but he didn't care. John parked the car at a motel, signed in at the front desk and paying in advanced for one night. The sun was already dipping over the horizon as rain clouds began to form.

"Room four-two-d," the young woman said with an accent, "it's up the stairs on the north end."

"Thanks," John acknowledged as he collected his keys.

He returned to his car and grabbed his bags before heading up to his room. By the time he got the door open, heavy rain began to fall.

Good, that'll make things easier.

The Spartan placed the 'do not disturb' sign on the handle before locking and barricading the door. He carefully opened his composite alloy suitcase which contained his Infiltrator Gear. It was essentially the GEN5 stripped down to be the lightest and stealthiest configuration as possible. So it was just the black contoured bodysuit and ultra-light armour plates.

He quickly removed his suit, and draped them over and armchair before donning on his gear. Satisfied that everything was in place and synchronised, John pulled the form fitting, vacuum sealed combat hood over his head and slid the visor and optics into place.

Opening the next compartment of the alloy suitcase gained him access to his weapon. The UNSC's Gauss Assault Rifle GAR12A4 and the GP24 SOCOM pistol awaited him. They had been optimised for stealth and rapid reaction, a clear favourite for infiltrators. GAR12A4 or Gary as it was affectionately called by some was a versatile weapon. It was accurate and had two modes of fire, subsonic and hypervelocity, thus saving user time between switching ammunitions during firefights. The same applied to the GP24 Pistol.

John ran through a quick maintenance check of his weapons before sliding the pistol into his holster, and attaching the rifle onto the back magnetic clamps. He opened the last box in his suitcase, it was no bigger than his palm and would be a form of last resort should he come across Superman or Wonder Woman. The Blackrock was a symbiotic life form that enhanced the host's physical capabilities, granting the ability of flight, super strength, super endurance, energy absorption; projection and manipulation. But that power came at a cost, the Blackrock would overwhelm the host, causing them to lose sight of their former self.

The Spartan performed a quick sweep of the motel with his optics to check if anyone was following him. Satisfied that no one was within the vicinity, he engaged the active camo and disappeared from sight.

…

GUARDIAN FACILITY, Belly of the Beast

When Superman took over, the world's entire premier Intelligence Agencies and the vast majority of Special Forces, all went underground. Since the days of the Metas, Governments had initiated safeguard protocols that would allow them to fight against the oppression of super powered beings. NSA and NORRAD Assets were seized unfortunately, giving the One Government unprecedented surveillance capabilities. CIA, Mossad, MI6, ASIS and ASIO, were officially disbanded, but they retained their structure as they melted into the populace.

Some technical and analytical staffs were recruited into the new regime, while others and their Field Agent counterparts went underground to join the insurgency. Intelligence Operatives new how to handle themselves, they worked tirelessly in the shadows to disrupt One Government, on the surface the Insurgency may seem like an unorganised babble. But in reality, they were just as organised and methodical as the oppressors.

The One Government Armed Forces were military forces and law enforcement all brought under one banner. The mainstay troopers were regulars, whom had committed little atrocities as a whole. The Elite Troopers on the other hand had committed enough atrocities that it made people tremble at their very name.

Guardian Facility was the training ground and Base of Operations for Superman's Elite Troopers. All captured Insurgents with identified history in the military or intelligence, were used as live target practice. The base was situated on the plateau of a very large mesa, most likely artificial. It was naturally defended by the rivers that surrounded it, and had a 200m wide killing field surrounding the walls at the top of the elevation.

There were double walls encasing the facility. A 10m concrete wall with grates ran along the outermost perimeter, patrolled by groups of guards and automated defences. The second wall ran along the inner perimeter, between it and the first wall was the killing field. It was twice as large and had virtually no seams to allow an infiltrator to scour the surface.

But for John, that wasn't a problem. Using his grav manipulators, he easily cleared the walls without being detected. Around this time, the night was closing in on midnight. The Spartan crept down the open stairway on the second wall, and narrowly avoided a six man patrol.

Although rain diminished visibility, it also increased chances of detection at close proximity. Ducking behind the barracks, John gained his bearings. It would be nice if he had topographical maps, but all government spaceborne assets had either been seized or destroyed. He'd just have to make do with the suit's sensors and penetrating scans.

"Alright," Batman called via the encrypted channels, "our men are held most likely on the northern end. Find the CP, we should be able to hack biometrics and allow you to take out the guards without sounding the alarms."

"And we can locate our pals here too."

"Precisely."

"So what's the deal with reinforcements?"

"I have a team of SEALs and MARSOC ready to create a diversion allowing you to escape. Deltas and Rangers will cut off enemy reinforcements. Once you're out, everyone will disappear."

"Sounds like people are going to be killed, you comfortable with it?"

"This is as much as their fight as it is mine," Wayne answered, "how they want to define it, it is up to them."

"So how will the diversion be created?" John asked.

"When you get into the CP and disable their defences, take note of all weak points, don't upload it…"

"Or it will be traced back to your location," the Spartan interjected. "I'll send you the coordinates via third party."

"Good."

"Reinforcements, do they have the pill?"

"Yes. They should be able to help you hold off the Metas."

"Alright, I'm going in."

"Copy, Batman out."

Five-U93R is a durability enhancer pill that increased bone and tissue tensile strength by several thousand per cent. John had consumed the pill many years ago. It made him more resistant to kinetic attacks, but just as vulnerable to DEWs. Considering his biology and alignment, he was the only person in the Insurgency who was closest to being capable of taking Superman head on in a fight.

But even then, the odds were quite stacked against him. The Kryptonian no longer held back, he fought unrestrained and aimed to take his opponents down in a single savage strike.

Looking around the base, the Command and Control was located in the centre of the base. The Secondary SATLINK was to the East, and so was the airfield with its fuel dumps.

Under the cover of reign and shadows John weaved his way through the base and easily avoided. He ducked behind crates and hugged the walls of the barracks as he approached a road intersection. Light vehicle patrols drove through the streets.

He took the time to pause behind a small kitchen while a group of trainees ran by, wanting to get out of the rain. The Spartan then panned his eyes across the CP. The building was no bigger than the average warehouse; it was well fortified and had a canteen nearby. There weren't that many people on duty considering that Guardian was a training camp. Only a few regulars patrolled the area here, and they weren't that heavily armed.

John hung 'round the back and climbed onto the rooftop. From there he used his sensors to track the EMP fields. He singled out a wire as the one that carried data on monitored biometrics. Drawing a drill from his Combat Webbing, the Spartan gently ad quietly carved a hole into the concrete with superb accuracy.

Careful not to tip any alarms, he placed the bug onto the wire and let it perform its task. Seconds later, his HUD-AR Feed lit with information. The layout of the base was updated to his tactical map, advanced penetrating scans and superimposing software allowed the Spartan to pinpoint his position.

This was a cake walk. He had been trained to infiltrate the most impregnable places by ONI. Despite the technological advancements of this universe, it was still woefully primitive when compared to his. The Spartan hacked into the communications network; he smiled when he discovered that the garrison used radio rather than networked communication. It was a training base after all.

"Biometric scan appears to be a myth," John whispered into his COM.

"What?" Wayne asked surprised. "Are you sure? Luthor said that every personnel part of One Earth has implants to monitor their vitals."

"Kent just made it up to scare him most likely. He would've learnt a lot of things from you."

"Don't remind me. Just get our people out of there."

The link fell silent again as John placed a thermite charge on the base of the communications tower. Climbing down from the rooftop, John checked the map and made his way across the fuel dump. Another team had just been rotated onto their one hour shift, giving him a large window to work in. The Spartan ducked behind the vehicle depot and stayed out of the rain as he approached the airfield.

All of the flights had been grounded at this hour, save for a few patrols. John easily avoided the sentries as he made a mad dash across the runway. Upon reaching the large vats of fuel, John gently placed an incendiary charge where no one could see it. He made a quick scan with his sensors, and noted that there was a panel nearby broadcasting the tanks' status.

He moved up to the panel and waved his hand over it, quickly overriding the system and hacking the network again. Now the panel would send false readings back to the Command Post. The next place that needed to be hit was the secondary SATLINK, and between it and him were a lot of pipes leading the fuel.

Moving up to a valve, John used his enhanced strength to release it quickly and flooded the pipes with the flammable liquid. No one back at the CP would know anything was amiss until it was far too late. The Spartan made up for lost time as he sprinted through the field of pipes and made his way towards the secondary SATLINK tower.

This one was heavily defended and judging by the guard's movements, the base of the structure was frequently checked. Well there was no way around this one; the guards would need to be taken out. Five stood in a ragged circle around the base of the tower, while two stood closer to his current position, and away from the lights.

Moving into striking distance to eliminate the two sentries, John pounced. In the span of a heartbeat, he ripped the rifle out of the first sentries hand and slammed the butt into the trooper's chin with a resounding thwack. The man fell without a cry as the Spartan spun round and bashed his elbow across the second sentry's temple. Under the tremendous force, the man's helmet cracked as he blacked out and crumbled into the ground.

"I almost felt bad about…" John said to himself, "almost."

Dragging the two guards out of the way, one from the main group walked over to him. Like his comrades, he wore a helmet without a visor.

"Hey guys…"

The Spartan quickly jumped him from behind. His left arm quickly wrapped around the man's throat, forcing the guard to drop the rifle and feebly grab at the Chief's vice like grip.

"Let's take a walk," he growled.

The guard gasped and nodded feebly, unable to utter a sound. John's HUD outlined the hostiles in red; they were still unaware of his presence.

"Think you're friends are going to shoot you?" John asked in a menacing tone. "We'll find out soon enough."

He walked into the open and moved into the optimal field of fire. In the short amount of time it took for an average person to think a simple thought, John had already figured out where to move and who to shoot. Strafing across the barricaded area, the SOCOM Pistol hissed as it sent armour piercing rounds down range. Each shot found their mark dead centre in the targets forehead and in less than a second four men lay dead in the rain, their blood diluted by the water.

"Guess we'll never find out," John whispered to his meat shield.

Making his way over to the base of the secondary SATLINK Tower, the Spartan slammed the guard's face into the metal supports.

"Hope your job has dental," he said grimly, "because that's going to leave a mark."

He planted charges onto the structural weak points, and set up a proximity trigger before leaving. According to the duty roster, no one else would go to the secondary tower for at least another 45 minutes.

John quickly left the area and moved along the rooftops of the concrete buildings. Thanks to the heavy rain and night sky, none of the sentries saw him glide silently by. Without incident, he managed to place charges which would cripple self-contained defence turrets, and sever the power grid. There was a subterranean back up power generator; one that John didn't have the luxury of time and resources to knock out. So the next best thing was cutting the wires which were just as effective.

Doubling back past the CP, John headed over to the detention centre. Much to his dismay, it was also underground, and there was only one way in. On the plus side, duty roster for the prison and the rest of the facility were out of synchronisation for security reasons.

He eyed the next replacement team walking towards the elevators, and decided to follow them under active camouflage. This was going to be the most delicate part of the plan; getting in without being caught.

Stepping inside the elevator with the relief team, John quickly checked his digital presence in the base. So far, he had effectively isolated the facility with all cross-COM chatter being kept to a minimal due to the hour.

Having Cortana here would make things easier, he thought.

The elevator's hydraulics vibrated and lowered the platform down into the depths of the prison. Guards milled around, checking the weapons while John spent the nerve wracking minutes crouching on top of crates they were bringing down.

Feeling the elevator coming to a stop, the Spartan prepared himself. Without alerting anyone, he quickly unslung his rifle and griped the weapon. The doors parted with a click and allowed the people to disembark.

Cutting communications – execute!

The AR system quickly mapped out all hostiles in the prison. Living conditions were horrid, and everyone inside were a part of the Insurgency. But John didn't take the time to car as he quickly cut the communications.

Leaping off the crates, John brought the heel of his boots into a man's skull, crushing the helmet that encased his head. By the time he hit the ground, the Spartan had put a few rounds through his buddies' chest and head.

Frantic cries surged through the cell block as the Spartan remained in cloak and fired from the shadows. His rifle hissed as it hurled rounds into its targets, painting the concrete floor in blood red. John strafed right towards the Command Unit and fired into the box, killing the Operator instantly.

"He's got cloak!" one of the guards cried.

John swung his rifle to bear and squeezed the trigger. The closet guard shook violently as the rounds punched through his armour and shredded his flesh, sending him to the ground. As the fighting intensified, the Spartan went loud. He rose from cover and deactivated camo while shooting at his opponent.

Thunderous claps echoed throughout the hall as the hypervelocity rounds ripped through the air and toppled over guards. The Chief made a beeline towards the Cell Block Controls and upon reaching the room, he opened every cell.

Prisoners rushed into the fray and overwhelmed the numerically inferior guards. Soon, everything went quiet, allowing John to restore power and send out a faux greenlight to the people in the CP. He then turned his attention to the prisoners, most were male and judging by the way they held their newly acquired rifles, they clearly knew how to handle themselves. These were the Insurgents John had been sent to bust out.

"Anybody injured?" he asked.

"No, we're good."

"Then grab their armour and I'll get you home."

Without hesitation, the former Intelligence Operatives and Special Mission Operators policed enemy armour for protection. All of them still had their multi-cam fatigues they wore on the way to the facility. It was their way of flipping off those who loved to wear the greyish blacks and the patch of One-Earth.

Seeing that everyone was ready, John led them back into the elevator. Out of instinct and second nature habits, the small number of prisoners took up defensive positions.

"Batman, we're coming out of the elevators now."

"Good, we're commencing the diversion."

Using the neural lace, John detonated all the preplaced charges. The entire night sky was lit with balls of fire as the fuel dumps went off. Flaming oil and water always mixed nicely… to create a lover inferno. The resulting explosions threw the base into disarray. The destruction of the communication towers rendered the base silent and uncoordinated, and in the ensuring chaos the Insurgents managed to slip away unnoticed until it was too late.

XXxxXX

ABOARD THE WATCHTOWER, ALPHA EARTH HIGH ORBIT

Diana walked into the cafeteria and collected two glasses of iced mocha. Regular Leaguers said their hellos and she showed them the same courtesy. Kal's attention was still demanded at a solar system halfway across the galaxy. It was something Diana really couldn't be bothered to understand. She knew that as much as Superman loved his adopted home planet, he still felt the need to help others.

At least he trusts us to take care of Earth, Diana thought optimistically, then again, it's probably Bruce he's trusting the planet with.

The day had been very taxing. After sparing with John at Elysium, Diana was recalled to the Themysciran Embassy in New York. Apparently there were talk of creating military relations between the Western Powers and the Amazons. It sounded like a great idea, but well… the World of Men preferred to use firearms, whereas the Amazons preferred to fight with swords.

Obviously the "frailties" of one faction had led to differing methods in combat. Bruce had taken Diana to visit areas of political unrest. Unofficially, she met with Field Operatives from some of the world's premier intelligence organisations. For political reasons, the Amazon Princess was not allowed to interfere, much to her dismay. But at least she got to see how warfare was truly conducted these days. It was messy. Inconsistent and went against all Amazon teachings.

She was sure that modern day soldiers would rather pick their enemies off from a distant rather than barrelling down a field of fire with fixed bayonets or swords held high. Trying to smother out the negotiations wasn't easy, as she requested that both administrations rethink their approach to this endeavour.

Now having returned to the Watchtower, she wanted some peace and quiet. Diana walked along the corridors overlooking Earth until she reached a lounge with M'gann sitting inside it. The lounge was beautiful in its simplicity and elegance, and would soothe even the most troubled person. But the overwhelming sadness written on the young Martian's face was something that could not be ignored.

"Is there something wrong, M'gann?" Diana asked as she entered the room. She gently set down the two drinks on the table before easing herself into the velvet couch next to brown haired woman.

"It's just…" she sighed, "those memories."

"John's?"

M'gann nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Desperately," she whispered, wiping tears away from her eyes.

Diana silently and quickly locked the lounge room doors and dimmed the lights for privacy. She placed a hand on the young Martian's shoulder and smiled maternally. It never seemed to work for her ward, but it certainly helped M'gann.

"So talk," she said softly.

"I-I…" M'gann uttered verklemptly, "I promised John I wouldn't give away anything. In case it might compromise the UNSC."

"Then don't, and show me."

M'gann bit her lips as tears began to stream down her face. "I never had a chance to process all of his memories. And now that I have… I-I… I wish I hadn't."

"You're good word has saved his life," Diana consoled, "take comfort in that. Right now, Batman is finding him a place to live among us."

"I know. I hear he's going to have John work for an Interpol department that works with the League."

"You're going off on tangents; now tell me what is bothering you."

M'gann gazed upon the blue green planet that glistened in the sun.

"Okay, I'll just show you what I can. But please don't tell him."

"Maybe we'll understand why," Diana said, placing both hand sin her lap. She reached over the table and picked up a glass of iced mocha and handed it to M'gann.

"A-are you sure?" the Martian sniffed. "You really like these drinks."

Diana smiled at the joke. "No, that one was for Batman. But he can wait."

M'gann drank the cool liquid greedily, savouring the flavour. Connor and the late Wally had warned her to stay away from the drink, unless she wished to become addicted to the non-alcoholic beverage.

Setting down the half empty glass, M'gann looked into Diana's eyes and reached out for her hand, and showed her the memories.

…

Bruce sat in the Senior Member's lounge, starring out onto the world passing by. He had spent the past few nights trying to come up with a way to send the Spartan back. But the way how the Supersoldier had arrived, well it was a freak accident. The clear and undeniable truth was that the chances of the Spartan returning home were near zero.

How do you replicate a slipstream space jump? It's all theory here.

Wayne recalled the letter he had placed in the file he had handed to the Spartan. It basically outlined the differences between his world's Interpol and John's. Here, Interpol had the authority to make arrests and could conduct operations independent of local Law Enforcement, albeit rarely.

He had contacts whom were open to a recommendation from the Justice League, and there was a department which worked alongside the organisation of superheroes too. Bruce could easily make a few phone calls and get John a job in that department. He hoped the Spartan would read the letter during his flight, thus giving him ample time to make his decision.

Many would ask why the Dark Knight would be so generous from an inter-dimensional traveller well-versed in the art of symmetric and asymmetric warfare. Those questions weren't without merit. Truthfully, Bruce had done this on M'gann's good word.

"He's just like you," he remembered her say. She had shown him a small glimpse of the Spartan's memories. And in those short few seconds of grief and despair that he felt, Bruce knew that John did not choose to become what he is now, he clearly accepted it, but he did not have a choice.

That was what drove Bruce to give John a new future here, because the Spartan didn't have a choice. It was clear that he was still loyal to the people that turned him into a weapon, and it was clear why. CADMUS was foolish and arrogant enough to deprive their subjects of basic human needs, and treated them like machines.

Spartans were well trained, and taught to have honour and think outside the box. That type of upbringing made all the difference. But regardless of how the Spartans were treated, Bruce was trouble by the fact that John was taken away from his family. Both of them had been separated from their families at a young age and given a greater purpose.

Bruce picked up Diana's footfalls as she entered the lounge with two glasses of iced mocha fresh from cafeteria. He noticed that one had whipped cream and sprinkles on it.

She only has sprinkles when something is troubling her or when she's really happy, Wayne pondered.

"What's wrong, Princess?" he asked with his deep growl.

"M'gann she…"

"Showed you those memories," Bruce finished.

"Yes," the Amazon Princess nodded as she set down the drinks and relaxed into the couch. "I understand why you want to help him. But he's…"

"A killer, an assassin, I know that," Wayne said flatly. "Given the circumstances, I can't say I blame him."

Diana shot him a look of surprise. Despite the Dark Knight's fearsome nature, he never wished to kill. He was abhorrent of the idea of killing, he never handled death well. To see him accept it, it threw her off balance.

"You must look at things from other people's perspective to understand," Bruce justified. "His universe didn't have any Metas. In his universe, humanity was already at war with itself before meeting the Covenant. The UNSC was fighting a war on two fronts. They are representation of humanity's ability to evolve without external interference."

"But man has shown a lust for war," Diana breathed.

"Hasn't your time with us told you anything?" Batman patronised. "Humanity can never be defined as one ideology. There will always be conflict, and it doesn't have to warfare but that's usually what all conflicts escalates into."

"Sorry," Diana apologised, realising she had struck a nerve. Under different circumstances, she would've smirked at her victory for being able to pull one over Bruce. But today just wasn't one of those days when the two could just joke around. The memories M'gann had shown them, had deeply affected them.

"Just make sure he fits in okay."

"I'll make sure of it," Bruce reassured. "It's the least he deserves."

"You're too kind," she said with a smile, hinting that Wayne should drop the playboy and become a public beacon of hope and prosperity.

XXxxXX

"Even when shit hits the fan, there's always something positive that will come out of it."
-Arca

"Such as?"
-Greystone

"Drowning, and not having to worry about the problem."
-Arca

"That's optimistically fatalistic."
-Greystone

XXxxXX

A/N: Well, what do you think? Please leave a review and let me know. I hope that "Second" Chief didn't seem to quirky. I was aiming for dark humour.