Chapter Thirty-Six: Truth or Dare

Chief squeezed the trigger, unleashing a deadly volley of bullets into the approaching combat forms. "Six, Emile, how are you holding up?" Chief had sent them out to scavenge bodies for ammo, and with such convienince, a door had closed in between them, separating Chief from them.

"Oh, we're only completely screwed, low on ammo, and outnumbered," Six replied over the comm. "We're fine. How 'bout you?"

"Standing my ground. Lightbulb went off to open the door," Chief said, ejecting an empty clip from his rifle. "Should be open in a few minutes."

Six sighed, and aimed the M90 in his left hand at the swarming infection forms crawling towards them. The scattered shot tore them to pieces.

Emile was lighting up all the combat forms, starting with the ones that shot back at them with hijacked weaponary. His Flamethrower was running low on fuel. "Almost out," he said. "I'll need my shotgun back."

Groaning, Six shot another combat form with Emile's shotgun. He was dual weilding his own and his comrade's weapons. "You sure? I can use all the ammo in your's first, then."

"Yeah, so?" Emile asked. "I'd rather use my knife. You really need to get your hands on a new one, Six." He torched a carrier form, popping it and roasting the infection forms inside. "Your old one is still stuck in a dead Elite somewhere."

"Yeah, I know," Six said. The door creaked as it slid back into the wall, allowing them to be reunited with the Master Chief.

Spark sent Sentinals to help the Reclaimers mop up the last of the Flood in the area. Their beams burned through the infected beings with extreme ease, mowing down all the Flood in the area.

Six tossed Emile his shotgun back, putting his own on his back. He folded his arms and leaned against a wall as Chief and Emile dug through the pockets of the dead Flood, looking for any sort of useful items. "How's your flamer holding up?" He asked Emile.

"Pretty good," Emile said. "It takes those zombies out quite well. The ammo's not a problem, it needs gas, and I got plenty."

Shaking his head sadly, Six face-palmed. "Think about that sentence."

Emile thought about it. "What's wrong with it?"

"Just let that one go," Chief urged, putting clips for his MA5 in various pouches on his armor.

Shrugging, Emile took lead as the walked on. It was quiet. Too quiet.

"It's quiet," Six commented. "Too qui-"

"Reclaimers." The Moniter rejoined the group, cheery sounding as always, as if there was something he knew that the Spartans didn't. "We're almost there."

"Let me guess, just a few more long, boring, abandoned hallways," Six said.

"Actaully, there not abandoned. Flood are occupying the upcoming rooms."

Six groaned. "Of course they are! Why wouldn't they be?"

"Man up, Six," Chief ordered. "Or else we might have to use you as bait."

The Spartans reached a ninty-degree corner, and Six peeked around to see what he could see. Several bullets from a BR55 hit the wall next to his head, forcing him to pull his head back.

"How many?" Chief asked, preping his gun for battle. Emile hefted up the flamethrower, ready to send as many Flood to hell as possible.

"How many zombies are in a bitch-load of zombies?" Six said, reaching for the M90 on his back. "Needless to say, this is going to suck a lot."

With a loud creak, a door rose up from the floor, cutting them off from the Flood. "Wait here," the Moniter ordered, floating off into one of the vents in the wall. "Several Sentinals will clean out the Flood ahead, so you can conserve ammunition for your primitive and quite insufficent weapons."

"Please let me shoot that flying tin can," Six pleaded to Chief as soon as the Moniter was out of earshot.

Chief sighed as he leaned his rifle against the wall. He could hear the moans and groans of the Flood as they engaged the attacking Sentinals. "We need something to do while we wait."

"Truth or dare," Emile suggested, setting his flamethrower on the ground.

Six nodded as he leaned against the wall, next to Chief's MA5, and slid to the ground. The Master Chief shrugged.

"I'll start," Emile looked at Six. "Truth or dare?"

Six smiled. He'd pick the easiest of the two. "Truth."

Emile tilted his head back, deep in thought. "What was you most interesting experience with civilians? Go into as much detail as possible."

Leaning his head back against the wall in thought, Six poured through all of his memories of civilians; evacs, evacs, and more evacs. Chief and Emile were staring at him, waiting for his answer.

"You know," Six said after a minute, "It would have to be the time I walked in on some civilians having a threesome, and-"

"Okay," Emile interrupted. "No more detail."

"Yeah, it was kinda awkward. You look up for a minute, and there is a Spartan in you bedroom."

Emile shook his head. "Chief your turn. Truth or dare?"

"As much as I hate to follow in the footsteps of Noble Six, I'll go with truth."

Emile smiled. This was what he had been waiting for. "Right after Six made his confession, and I admitted I lost someone I loved, you said you felt the same way." Chief didn't like where this was going. "Explain," Emile smirked.

"Wait," Six butted in. "The Master Chief was in love? Why didn't you tell me this?"

Reaching into his pouch, Emile removed a Coke and an MRE. "Here," he said, tossing them to Six. "Now shut up." He fixed the intimidating gaze of the skull on his visor toward Chief. "Spill the beans."

"Do I have to?"

"It's the rules," Six said, through a mouthful of MRE.

Emile sighed, and settled for getting one thing. "Just a name."

Chief rolled his eyes. "Kelly."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Emile folded his arms.

"Truth or dare, Emile?" Six asked, as he opened a private channel with Chief to discuss what Emile would have to do with either choice.

"Dare."

After a few seconds of silence, Chief nodded. Six relayed their decision. "We dare you to take off all you armor and face the Flood out there with nothing other than a tree branch," Six said, standing up and stomping on his empty Coke can.

Emile glared at him. "It has to be a reasonable dare. And where in the hell would we get a tree branch in here?"

Chief shook his head. "You lost."

Six smirked. "It wouldn't have been that hard, would it?"

Drawing his kukri from its sheath, Emile moved towards Six. "I'm gonna cut you up someday," He jabbed the knife into the wall next to Six's head.

"Sore loser?" Six asked, and getting kicked in the gut by Emile.

"Well...that was rather interesting to watch," The Moniter said, as he made his presence in the room known. "I must admit that humanity has changed quite a bit since I last saw them." He floated over to the holographic glyph in midair on the door, opening it. "I still wish I had a full company of Prometheans."

"What in the hell is a Promethean?" Six pushed himself off the ground, brushing the little dust that had gathered on his armor off.

"Oh, nothing. You will never encounter them, so it does not matter," the Moniter replied, as the door creaked open. "It is not that much farther to the Index. And then we'll head back to the Control Room to activate Halo."

"Yay," Six muttered, in a completely bored tone. "Emile, why did you give me that Coke? Now I feel hyper."

"You know that old saying," Emile said. "A Coke a day keeps the Six at bay. For a few minutes." After a pause, "Why the hell are you addicted to them, anyway?"

"Well, bacl on New Alexandria, I was feeling kinda thirsty, and I saw a vending machine-"

"Okay, forget it," Emile interjected. "I honestly don't care about your life."

Flipping Noble Four off, Six walked ahead of Chief and Emile, deciding that it would be better to be away from them. He had gotten lost in his own thoughts. He thought about Ashley, and how he would never see her again. It pained him, and that was why he decided to let his past go. His thinking processed were cut short when Emile spoke.

"That guy really got screwed over," he said, rolling a body over with his gray metal boot. The human body was mangled, torn, and completely unidentifyable.

"Oh yes, that is the first Reclaimer I had to attempt to retrieve the Index," the Moniter said, floating down to look at the body.

Chief reached for the dogtags, tearing them off the mutilated neck and reading them. "Marvin Mobuto." He glanced down at the body, seeing the UNSC standard issue armor. "He was a Marine."

"Damn," Six exclaimed, elongating the word. "A single Marine got this far, while we struggled and we're Spartans?"

"He was one tough son of a bitch," Emile admitted, treating the dead human with slightly more respect. Slightly more.

Chief tucked the dogtags into his pouches, and they continued on, reaching a large room, with a bridge leading out over an elevator shaft. In the middle of the giant hole, the bridges lead to a central area. The Index. Oh yeah, let's not forget about the nearly infinite number of Flood around it.

"Wow, that drawfs the other mobs we've seen," Six noted, pulling his shotgun off his back and over-dramatically cocking it.

The first wave hit with force. Chief fired his hijacked Rocket Launcher into a group of carrier forms, while Emile kept him covered with the Flamethrower.

Six had his M90 in one hand, and DMR in the other. It was hard to dual wield the weapons, but he was managing. He fired five shots into a carrier form several yards away, watching it pop and send infection forms scurrying around the place. A shotgun blast later, that problem was resolved.

Chief dropped the empty M41, switching to his MA5. Automatic rounds tore through the combat forms approaching from his side, while Emile was being overwhelmed by infection forms, and apparently he needed to reload, since he wasn't firing. He was kicking them, which allowed some to climb up on him, which Emile punched off.

Grunting in annoyance, Chief ejected his current clip, and loaded a new one into the Assualt Rifle, and firing twenty-nine of sixty shots into the infections forms at the III's feet.

"Thanks," Emile muttered, as he began to reload his shotgun, letting the Flamer rest on the dull metal floor.

"DMR is empty," Six informed the other Spartans, as he backed up to them while defending himself with his M90. "You know, we've taken out at least thirty, and we haven't even made a dent."

"We need better weapons," Chief stated, mowing down two combat Elites. The Spartans were taking fire, but they were out in the open, with no cover. Using the 'if it shoots at you, kill it first' method, they were holding their ground.

"Here Emile," Six handed Noble Four his shotgun, and reached for something in his back pouch.

Emile took Six's M90, holding his in his other hand. He fired both weapons into different oncoming combat forms, effectively ripping them into pieces. Chief took out a carrier form long range, sending infection forms out. "What about you, Six?" Chief asked, noting Six didn't have any usable weapons in sight.

"Remember how we would always come back from a mission with Energy Swords, and then they would dissappear?" Six pulled a hilt from the pouch, flicking his wrist to activate the plasma blades. "I took one of them."

"Give 'em hell," Chief ordered turning back to the last few combat forms running at him. A few short controlled bursts took one out, while the other two were close. Chief swung his rifle forward using it to smash the infected Elite. On contact, he heard bones breaking, which was a good sign. He executed a roundhouse kick, taking its head off. With a few bullets from the MA5, the infected fell to the floor, gore splattered around it.

The other combat form jumped on the Master Chief, dragging him to the ground and knocking his weapon away. It brought its arm up to strike, but Chief grabbed it by the wrist and tore the fragile arm off.

A kukri hit the ground nest to him, and without a second thought, Chief grabbed the knife with his free hand and stabbed the infection form on top of him repeatedly in the back. He rolled the body off of him, and stood up. All around them, dead infection forms were on the ground, motionless.

Emile held his hand out, and Chief returned the kukri. Emile sheathed it as he put his shotgun on his back. "That wasn't too bad, right?"

Chief shrugged. "I've been in slightly worse," he said, as he crouched to pick up his MA5. He looked at the ammo counter, and saw 42. Deciding that it was enough for now, he put the weapon on his back.

Six walked over, with fists covered in ooze from the infection forms. "Guess what?" Before anyone answered, he continued. "The sword ran empty half-way through the fight. I had to use my fists."

"So what?" Emile asked. He started towards the Index. "Let's get the thing so we can get out of here." When they reached the Index, the protecive barrier was still around it, preventing the Spartans from getting it.

"The energy barrier surrounding the Index will deactivate when we reach the ground floor," the Moniter informed them, as the platform began to move downwards. It was going to be a while.

"Um...Six?" Emile walked over and stood next Six. "I wanted to ask you a question."

"About what?" Six was holding his empty DMR, looking through the scope.

Emile hesistated for a second. "About Ashley." Chief looked over a them, evesdropping on the conversation. "But, if you don't-"

"It's alright," Six said. "She's dead. There's nothing we can do about that now. What was the question?"

"Nothing," Emile replied. "Is that how you really feel?"

"It is now."

Behind his visor, Emile raised his eyebrows and turned toward Chief. "Well, that's not what I expected," Chief said over a a private channel. Emile agreed with a nod.

The platform reached the bottom. The energy barrier around the Index deactivated, allowing access. "You may now retrieve the Index," the Moniter said, floating around it.

Chief reached out and took it, but the Moniter stole it away. "Protocol requires that I take possesion of the Index for transport. Your organic form renders you vulerable to infection. The Index must not fall into the hands of the Flood before we reach the Control Room and activate the Installation."

Six looked up as once more he was eveloped in a yellow light light, and teleported away from the Library. Ashley's dead. Deal with it, he told himself. Ashley is dead.

Location:Unknown

Time:Unknown

Four figures are stand on a rocky ledge overlooking a ruined city, destroyed in the war. Two of the figures are wearing MJOLNIR, indicating they are Spartans. The other two appear to be normal humans.

One of the Spartans is the only female in the group, and she seems to be the leader of this group. Her armor is orange, and is UNSC Air Assault class. She is holding her helmet under her shoulder, revealing long red hair, and her face sports green eyes.

She is staring out at the remains of the city, and sighs, lost in her memories. "Let's move," the Spartan says to the group. "They'll be here any minute." She puts her helmet on with a single thought.

There was nothing I could've done, though I tried. Six is dead.

A/N: shadowblazex22 and arbiter6784 and Dejae beta-read this chapter.

For the readers of The Journey Ahead, I am rewriting it, as you may know from the earlier post of the newest chapter. Another Day, Another War will be finished first, before I start publishing the rewrite of TJA.

Peace.