Disclaimer: As much as I wish and hope otherwise, especially in the wake of Guardians... I still don't own Halo, nor Naruto for that matter. *sigh*

The Natives

He was all too familiar with the stares. The mixture of curiosity, disbelief, and intimidation. Sometimes, even fear. At this point in his life, it was simply to be expected. His mere presence was a magnet for attention, and it was rarely viewed in anything more than a neutral light. Only in the ending years of the Human-Covenant War, after the existence of his kind was relatively declassified, had he and those he considered family been praised as something akin to heroes. However, one would have been foolish to assume all was well and good because of it. The simple rarity of men and women like him, whose enemies too considered to be perfect killing machines, continued to induce an inherent uneasiness in the eyes of their observers.

Mankind had always been afraid of the unknown, and Spartans with their highly secretive origins and often antisocial tendencies were prime examples of that very thing. Seeing one for the first time, standing at roughly two meters tall and adorned in green Mjolnir powered assault armor from head-to-toe, tended to be a disquieting experience for the average person. It was especially so for a group of people utterly clueless to the simplest concept of mechanized warfare. Those who surrounded and walked alongside the Master Chief now just so happened to strangely fit into that category.

He spared the traveling party a single glance, noticing their encompassing formation had not significantly changed since their departure from the Dawn about twenty minutes prior. Two in front, two at his sides, and four more others keeping a careful watch of his back, adding up to a total of eight men and women. Remaining outside his field of view, those behind him likely believed they would hold the upper hand in the event of hostilities. But ignorant of his armor's motion-tracking sensor, they wouldn't have realized the advantage was made void until it was too late. Not that the Spartan would have done anything to irritate the situation, nor would've his new hosts for that matter. After all, they were supposed to be his ever protecting "guards".

In reality, they were encouraging the idea this trek was more a forceful escort. Owning the numerical advantage, as well as typically being this world's top warriors on a normal basis, probably provided them a false sense of security. But he knew who owned the true power in this little caravan, and he figured they subconsciously knew it too. So, for the sake of diplomacy, he allowed them to continue indulging in their fantasies of superiority.

"I'm curious as to how technology has progressed on this world," Cortana suddenly stated aloud. As per usual, her voice echoed within the Spartan's head as if a separate personality in his thoughts.

For the sake of keeping this particular conversation discreet, and in turn the AI's existence an ongoing secret, he checked off his helmet's microphone before speaking. "These people look like they're still Pre-Industrial."

"Considering we haven't seen anything more than melee weapons, you would think that's obvious. But something about that has been nagging me. In particular, their clothing."

It took Chief only a hasty observation of his closest 'escort' to understand the issue. "The flak jackets."

"Precisely. Gunpowder is a rarity in Tier 7 civilizations, and seeing as how our new friends are still using steel blades instead of basic arquebuses or muskets, they should be wearing a kind of plate armor or chainmail."

The Spartan showed his agreement with a barely noticeable nod. "Flak Jackets assume dealing with explosive shrapnel, or low-velocity projectiles."

"Which doesn't make any sense if gunpowder isn't widespread. Arrows, crossbow bolts, and throwing weapons clearly count as low-velocity, but that level of weaponry doesn't call for alternative types of armor." Cortana's slight confusion started becoming evident in her voice. "In Earth's history, the first real flak jackets were developed in the Second World War, from the need to protect bomber pilots from the case fragments of anti-aircraft artillery. So why are we seeing them in a Pre-Industrial society?"

"Think they're trying to hide something?"

"I'm not sure, but something had to encourage the flak jacket's creation on this planet, Chief. Advancements in defensive technologies are only done when current methods become obsolete."

Master Chief quietly contemplated her reasoning. If one was to look at Human history, at least on Earth, they would have found the means to protect oneself in battle only ever advanced when there was a need to counter a new threat. When men first learned how to craft steel swords and blades, they put together leather body armor. When those steel weapons were perfected by tempering and advanced forging methods, that leather became steel plating and chainmail. When firearms and artillery made steel armor and castle walls antiquated, people learned how to dig trenches and build concrete bunkers. When tanks were introduced to the world, men ditched the trenches and picked up rocket launchers. In the 20th century, when high-altitude aircraft started flying too high for normal guns and artillery, missile systems were developed to shoot them down. This process, of what was essentially cause-and-effect, continued for centuries; a new tool of war was brought to the battlefield and a new means of defense was established as an offset.

And what was Humanity's answer, when its entire species was threatened by a malevolent alien coalition? The Spartan Program.

"I don't like it," an unfamiliar voice abruptly whispered in Japanese. It originated from behind Chief, but he chose to simply listen instead of seek out the speaker. "The metal man hasn't said a word since we left for the village."

There was an audible sigh before a second voice spoke, this one belonging to the individual who had introduced himself earlier as Kakashi Hatake. "I would have thought you prefer it that way."

"If it was a shinobi from another village we were dealing with. At least they ask for basic things like food and water, maybe make conversation to pass the time or to try distracting us." He paused as if to take a moment to quickly go through his thoughts. "This one's silence is unsettling."

There was another lull between the two men until, after about half a minute, the sound of a book being folded shut with a little force echoed from their direction. "Nishi looked him over with her Byakugan before we left the crash site."

Master Chief did not know what this tool in question was, but he hadn't remembered being scanned or studied with any sort of device. Only now learning they had apparently done so was a disconcerting discovery. "Did you-"

"No," Cortana interrupted, already knowing the question. "Unless my sensors are turning faulty, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Whatever this 'Byakugan' is, the most I can tell you is its literal translation, 'White Eye.'"

With the Spartan's interest rising, he was urged to turn his head just barely enough to finally get an eye on the gossipers. Walking alongside Kakashi was a man adorned in the same prevailing uniform: navy blue shirt and pants, open-toe sandals, and a green flak jacket, although his was a slightly darker shade. The only major difference in attire was the sash, decorated with the kanji for 'Fire', wrapped around his waist. The man's skin was a tanned olive color compared to his silver-haired companion's pale complexion, and a well-trimmed beard stretched down from his sideburns into a goatee at the center of his chin. His eyes were a light brown, and the black hair atop his head was short and styled in a spiky fashion. Sitting over his forehead was an exact replica of Kakashi's headband, albeit not covering his right eye. Chief and Cortana had learned the swirled leaf engraving on the small metal plate was the banner of Konohagakure No Sato.

"And," the man asked with a curious stare.

Kakashi acknowledged his bearded companion and the question with a simple look from his only visible eye. "She said he looks Human enough, but apparently... he doesn't have a single trace of Chakra in him."

To this, a clear expression of shock crossed the other man's face. It only appeared for a second, however, and was soon replaced with one of weariness. As he raised his left hand and began massaging his temples, the other dug into his pants' pocket and received what appeared to be a package of cigarettes. He brought the small, rectangular box to his face, pushed out a loose cigarette with a nudge, and then grabbed the edge of the cancerous stick with his lips before replacing the pack and pulling out a lighter. "She's sure of this?"

"I had Hoheto double-check, and he confirmed it." Kakashi's eye turned toward Chief, aiming a sharp look of both inquisitiveness and suspicion. And, for the briefest of moments, the Spartan swore their gazes would have locked if not for his helmet's visor. "For some reason or another, the man doesn't have any Chakra coils to speak of."

The two men quietly continued their discussion for the next few minutes, oblivious to the Spartan's enhanced hearing and, in turn, ability to eavesdrop at that distance. However, whatever said beyond that point was considered negligible, for the supersoldier was no longer listening. Instead, Master Chief was focused on this... latest information. Or, more accurately, a series of newly acquired questions regarding the nature of this world and its inhabitants.

What was this "Chakra"? How did these people acquire it? Why was it important to them? And why was the fact he lacked it considered peculiar, if not downright shocking?

Cortana's next words were, more or less, a perfect verbal interpretation of his thoughts. "They had my curiosity, but now? Now they have my attention."

Hiruzen's vigilant stare never turned away from the dirt road ahead, its path leading away from the walls of Konoha and into the wild woods of the Land of Fire. Even as a strand of sweat rolled through the crow's-feet of his left eye, he paid little mind to the heat brought on by the hot Summer day. The raising of his right hand to the triangular-shaped Kage hat atop his head was the only motion he had made for the past ten minutes. With the late afternoon sun setting low enough to signal the start of the day's evening, the slight tilting of the red and white headwear was needed to protect his eyes from its brightness. Other than that, however, he had done little more than patiently await the arrival of Kakashi Hatake's entourage.

News in the form of a returning Team Rho had come a little less than an hour ago, informing the village leader of the Copy Cat Ninja's successful communique with the green-armored man. And with word the individual was accompanying Kakashi back to the Hidden Leaf for 'diplomatic introductions', Sarutobi had thought it more than necessary for himself to be the first political representative presented. As both the leader and protector of Konohagakure, never would he have dared to delegate such an important responsibility to anyone else. Including the members of the village's Council.

"Hokage-sama."

Hiruzen grunted at the interruption to his wandering mind. He turned his head toward the speaker on his left to see one of his two Anbu bodyguards, who had been standing alongside him the entire time, leaning slightly forward in the older man's direction. "Yes?"

"Our scouts have reported in," said the voice of a young woman behind the porcelain mask. Similar to Tenzō's, the design of this particular mask was fashioned after a cat, but unlike the veteran captain's, the bodyguard's was decorated with three red, wavy stripes – one flowing down from the forehead and two others driving horizontally on each cheek. In contrast, her straight hair was colored in a rich violet as it freely fell to waist-length. "The teams have been spotted, and should be in our view within a few moments."

Sarutobi gave the Anbu a simple nod before returning his gaze to the road ahead. The accuracy of the scouts' report was soon confirmed a minute later by the sighting of an approaching group of ninja, their figures having revealed themselves from a curve in the path about one hundred and fifty meters away. In a matter of seconds, he already began recognizing the features of his most trusted shinobi – the silver hair of Kakashi, the spiky ponytail of Shikaku Nara, and even the lit cigarette of his own son, Asuma. However, his attention was unable to fully distract itself from the single most pressing detail. Standing in the middle of the group was the towering frame of a nearly two-meter-tall man, his body almost completely encased in an olive-green armor. The exception to this was what appeared to be a jet black, body-tight ensemble laying between and beneath the metal plating. When the small caravan had crossed about half of the distance, Hiruzen took better notice of the giant's helmet. And considering the older man was dressed appropriately, wearing the cloak and formal garments of his title, it was unsurprising to see the orange-gold visor staring directly at him.

For all it was worth, locking gazes with the cold and emotionless form of a glass sheet was a notably new experience.

—

This was the moment of truth. In just a few seconds, Spartan-117 was going to be meeting the man who was arguably the most powerful person on Earth. What that meant for the Hidden Leaf Village and, quite possibly, the world, no one really knew. But whatever happened next, either good or bad, was going to be remembered as one of the most historically important moments to ever be recorded. The day an advocate of a foreign society, which was by all definitions alien, met with one of the leaders of the known world.

Kakashi had, in all honesty, not expected the Hokage to be standing at Konoha's gate for his company's return. Well maybe it was not all that surprising, knowing how seriously the aging man took his role, but he hadn't thought the Council would have allowed the Third to so recklessly endanger himself. The gate of Konohagakure, reaching the same height as the twenty-meter-tall walls at its sides, was the weakest point in the village's entire defensive perimeter. For the man who was essentially the Commander-in-Chief to stand there, open to attack or assassination by anyone hardy enough to take the chance, was a daring gamble. No matter how capable a shinobi the elder Sarutobi was, invincibility had never been a mortal trait. All those thoughts mentally objecting to the scene before him, however, wasn't going to change a thing.

The Sandaime Hokage, with all his power, was not about to let anyone else provide the otherworldly visitor an invitation into his home. The expression of determined seriousness on the man's wrinkled face was proof of that. Although, when his gaze fell upon the two leaders of the Jōnin teams, his eyes seemed to soothe in demeanor. "Kakashi. Shakaku. I welcome your safe return."

Kakashi and the Nara clan head both responded with short, but respectful bows. "Thank you, Hokage-sama."

Hiruzen gave a brief nod of acknowledgement, and his lips twitched in a soft smile for a split second before turning flat again. "After the day's rather interesting series of events, I am sure your teams would like to be dismissed more than anything. However, I'm sorry to say I cannot set you all free just yet." He paused for a short moment as if to let that sink in, then continued. "With the exceptions being the two of you, everyone is to report to my office and remain there until further notice."

"Hai," was the collective response from all the Jōnin present. The shinobi standing in formation behind the team leaders took no more than a few seconds to gather themselves together and walk through the gate of Konoha, ultimately making their way towards the Hokage Tower. Shikaku and Kakashi silently watched the group move onward until eventually losing visual of them in the busy streets of the village.

The Hokage, for the most part, kept his gaze fixed on his two subordinates at his front, sparing only a single glance to his son as the younger Sarutobi passed by. After everyone had reached out of sight, leaving just his Anbu bodyguards and the two Jōnin, he finally turned to the green-armored man. And for the next quarter of a minute, the aging Kage observed the two-meter-tall giant with a cold stare, studying him like a specimen. "I am the Third Hokage, the leader of this village and its people," he declared with authority. "Who am I to be welcoming into my home?"

Seeing the need to introduce himself, the Spartan did something a bit unexpected. He straightened his back, brought his legs together, and rested his arms along his sides – positioning himself in some sort of military stance – then brought his right hand up to his forehead for a stiff salute. "Sir. Spartan-117, United Nation Space Command. Here to act as emissary of the UNSC for diplomatic negotiations."

—

As they were typically, the open-air markets of Konohagakure and the surrounding plaza were crowded by an uncountable number of people, each of whom were either customers buying or traders selling. The display was akin to a bazaar, with dozens of stands and booths lined up in rows and people behind counters advertising their various products. The loud bustling of business transactions and barters, alongside the occasional quarrels over prices or demands for refunds, filled the air in an overpowering turbulence. One would have described it all as a controlled chaos.

Native citizens of the Hidden Leaf Village were not the only ones taking part in the commerce either. There were merchants who had traveled from every corner of the continent, all handling a wide variety of differing merchandise: fresh salmon from the Land of Waves, exotic spices from Sunagakure, pristine rice from Amegakure, and even pure mountain spring water from Iwagakure. The markets in Konoha were considered by many as the best and most diverse, and with good reason.

For young Naruto Uzumaki, however, it was the same sight he had witnessed nearly every day for the last thirteen years of his life. What might have impressed a country farmer or foreign traveler didn't even encourage the bat of an eye from the adolescent. Nor did he pay notice to the small bubble of space around him that seemed to be formed by the surrounding crowd. He chose to ignore it as usual and walked onward, basking in the the afterglow of his recent training session.

It was because of this, along with the day's sharp heat, that his trademark orange and blue, white-collared jacket was slung over his shoulder, exposing his sweat-stained undershirt. His blue forehead protector normally wrapped along his hairline had also been taken off, instead tied around his left leg. It was not an odd appearance for the blonde during the Summer months. The jacket was heavier than it looked, and he wasn't foolish enough to underestimate the chance of heat stroke, likely to the chagrin of many villagers. Not the temperature, the clothes on his back, or the burning stares of the people nearby were going to stop him from enjoying a relaxing stroll. And finding his way back to Ichiraku for another round of ramen.

That was, however, prior to him noticing the large commotion taking place a few dozen meters up the street.

It started when the whispered insults and piercing glares suddenly ceased. For the first time for as far as he could remember, Naruto was walking through the streets of Konohagakure without his presence attracting a single bit of scrutiny. Instead, everyone's attention had been hastily drawn to something farther ahead. Something that proceeded to just about start an uproar among the populous. Then, without warning, the surrounding crowds began hurriedly moving in the opposite direction, as if making way for whatever had disturbed the peace. Unable to see passed the taller figures around him, the blonde-haired teen abruptly found himself faced with the threat of being trampled by the horde of villagers. Even his stubborn curiosity couldn't stop him from moving with the crowd. A full minute or two of disarray ensued before the masses managed to make a lane cutting through the markets, providing Naruto a chance to finally see the cause of all the fuss.

Now walking in the middle of the newly created path was the Third Hokage, adorned in his ceremonial robes and red and white Hokage hat. Standing at his sides were Team Seven's sensei, Kakashi, and Shikamaru's father, Shikaku Nara. The sight wasn't anything particularly strange... until the tall, armored giant following behind them, flanked by two Anbu Black Ops, came into view. It was then that Naruto went wide-eyed, his emotions culminating into a combination of awe and wonder. For the next several moments, as the Hokage's entourage quietly proceeded through the clearing, he couldn't keep his eyes off the stranger and his bizarre, olive green armor. Its design was bulky and ugly, yet also oddly marvelous and appealing. It was just so different. So... alien.

Whoever the mysterious man was, and whatever faraway place he had originated from, the juvenile Uzumaki had now made it his mission to meet the green giant. And with a little effort, it would be sometime soon.

—

Master Chief was genuinely curious. Not about the mass of civilians crowded around him and the peculiar society they represented, nor this 'Hokage' and the two masked guards now at his sides. Even the utility poles lined along the streets and their overhead power lines, signifying this civilization's use of electricity, poked at his thoughts. No, what nagged at the spartan's curiosity was Cortana and her enduring silence.

From the moment he first walked through the gate of Konohagakure No Sato, his usually chatty companion had not spoken a single word. Anyone familiar with her would have figured her to be commenting on all the new and strange sights. Instead, the AI who was normally the first in the duo to make her thoughts known was, for all intents and purposes, completely mute. It was starting to become disconcerting. "Cortana."

Her immediate reply sounded almost too innocent. "Yes, Chief?"

"You've been silent since we arrived," he simply stated aloud, his helmet's external speakers off once again. "Are you alright?"

The AI's answer didn't come until several moments, and when it did, her voice held a small trace of static. "I'm o-okay. Really. I-I've just been thi-inking."

Realizing her rampancy was acting up again, the supersoldier decided it was better to avoid bringing it up. Rather, the best course of action was to make some small talk and keep her mind distracted from itself. "What do you make of our hosts?"

Another couple of quiet seconds passed before she replied, and now with her mental processes refocused, her voice seemed to lose its electronic interference. "Bizarre. Intriguing. Unlike anything I've ever seen. That about sum up my opinions for you?"

"Well enough."

CHAPTER END

A/N: Hello readers! Allow me to apologize for such a long wait, only to be rewarded with a (relatively) small chapter. I know, I know; I've had plenty of time to right more, but life just isn't a perfect little world where everything works out the way we, and by "we" I mean "I", want it to.

I can't promise future updates won't take some time, but I am going to try making sure chapters won't take nearly as long as this one to be written and posted. In any case, however, I'm sorry, and I hope you continue to enjoy this story. Thank you!