-The Streets of Tairon 12:00 AM-

Jack Shepard was a 22-year-old army wash out, who just wanted an easy way to make some money. What he got instead, was violent death half a world away from whatever family he had left.

He was spectacular marksmen, top of his class in fact. In fact, he was just about better than most of his fellow recruits at boot camp at pretty much everything. A born leader, they told him. Destined for great things they told him. Funny thing was, they might have complimented him a bit too much and too soon for his own good.

He had trouble listening to orders, problems with disobeying his superiors when he thought he knew better than those who were in charge. To the point, that after a while he found himself discharged after his commanding officer "accidentally" walked in front Jacks rifle during firing practice.

So, what does a young man in his twenties do, when his only knowledge is weapons and how to use them to kill other people do, when he finds himself without a job or money?

Simple. He becomes a mercenary.

Black Castle was one of the largest private military companies in the Northern hemisphere with contracts all over the world to act as "security guards" in what was referred to as "highly sensitive areas." When world leaders couldn't be bothered with sending their own military into foreign countries to deal with issues, they were sent in. But mostly, their jobs involved around organizations that had both the money and connections to afford them, using BlackCastle as their own personal army to protect business interests in less than strictly legal ways.

The occupation of Tairon was supposed to a job like all the others. Supplement the local ground troops in stomping out the rebel forces and keep the locals in line so they didn't do anything stupid. Once a few of the more vocal inhabitants were shown the errors of their ways, the people of the city kept inside their homes and prayed to whatever gods they had that the soldiers didn't have a reason to knock on their door.

It was the easiest paycheck Shepard ever collected.

His Group had been patrolling the perimeter of the south-eastern outpost of the city when the news hit. An entire firing team had been ambushed and executed in the city streets.

While at first the idea of civilians doing the deed crossed many a mind, that theory was put to rest when another fire team only blocks away from the first were found dead in a similar fashion. Each and every man was shot through the head with a single bullet; no evidence left of the mystery assailants to even begin to guess who was involved.

It was after this second group had been found that the alarms had been sounded and alerts sent to the entire strike force to inform them of what had happened. But while a few wept for their fallen comrades, most had cheered for the wonton distraction to the mundane of looting and terrorizing the locals. Hunting down and torturing a would-be liberator sounded like a day at the beach compared to what they were doing.

It was hardly any sport! Shepard remembered hearing someone say, and he had to agree with him.

Between the dozen or so Helicopters patrolling the air, to the four armored assault vehicles patrolling the streets, to the near 400 strong Battalion worth of soldiers armed with the lasted weapons and armor, the idea of failure never seemed to cross the minds of any of the men.

But then the unit commander had lost radio contact with another squad, just a few city blocks away from their own location. His comrades had been outraged and wanted blood; Shepard had been confused.

No one heard any gunshots in the area, in fact, the unit's dead man's switch hadn't even activated to signal something had happened to their wearers. How could an entire strike team get snuck up on and killed with firing a single shot? How could whoever did kill them actually kill them without firing a single shot?

The only Survivor of the attack seemed to change the entire mood of the men who saw him. Those who were excited about the prospect of a fight grew apprehensive and shaken, their moral growing less and less by each passing moment. The survivor seemed to have become crazed by what he had seen, crawling desperately away from the broken bodies of his now dead comrades. He muttered to himself, too traumatized by what he had been through to be able to make sense of the world around him. His eyes shifting back and forth in a frantic manner as he seemed to seize up at the slightest movement out of the corner of his eye.

The man was sedated to keep him from driving any of the other men insane from the ramblings, but the damage was done. The relaxed and excited stances the men held themselves were gone, and paranoia and fear replaced them.

That's when it happened

There were twelve of them at the time, five men on either side flanking an armored vehicle with a man driving and another man holding the mounted machine gun like it was his first-born child. They were all on edge but noticed nothing out of the ordinary as they patrolled down the streets. With a barrel of a gun pointing at every direction, it should have been impossible for anyone to catch them by surprise.

So, when the attack came from above them, with gunfire erupting over their heads, they could do little to counter it. The armored truck was its primary target, its armor plating doing little to protect it from the onslaught. Within a few moments of the attack, the truck, as well as its occupants were decimated in an explosion strong enough to send the surrounding men sprawling to the ground from the impact.

A surge of adrenaline spiked and Shepard lashed out at the exact same time as the first bullet was fired. Years of fighting experience flared to life in an explosion of light as something crashed into the armored truck with enough force to dent and singe the armor plating around them. Chunks of jagged metal and burning car parts flew through the air and loose pieces of shrapnel went everywhere as every single man began to open fire.

Did someone plant landmines? Did someone fire an RPG? What's happening?

A string of gunfire erupted from behind them, killing three men before they knew what hit them. Identical bullet holes in between each man eyes indicating they were dealing with some master marksmen. Less than ten seconds was all it took for half of their men to be killed like cows led to a slaughterhouse.

Jack was forced to prematurely cut off his gunfire and leap behind an overturned stone barricade to avoid what he assumed was the next round of gunfire directed towards him and his men. He took a deep breath and engaged his surroundings again, jerking his SMG over towards him but finding that it was out of ammo. He peered over his improvised cover and took a stock of his men's positions, as the amount of gunfire that had been pouring from his men had decreased dramatically in the two seconds that had passed. The reason why was equally obvious as it was disturbing.

"what in the holy fuck is that?"

With almost machine-like efficiency, a green-armored giant picked off the various soldiers one by one. Their bodies dropping after a single burst of fire from their attacker, like it was a hockey mask wearing serial killer and they were sex-crazed teens in a cheesy 80's slasher film. Two of the more aggressive men charged at the armored monster, attempting to subdue the hulking titan and try to beat it into submission with electric batons and the bayonets of their rifles from either side, but the thing responded with such speed that they might as well have been standing still.

"It's like it fucking teleported"

It deflected the first attack with a casual gesture of his hand and stepped closer to the firing squads CQC specialist, a brick wall of a man who had studied both Sambo and judo for as long as he could walk, throwing several punches to his chest and head faster than any human could respond. The first hit landed with enough force to literally behead the best hand to hand fighter Shepard had ever known in his life. The second soldier didn't even have the time to correct his movements as the giant simply sidestepped him and lashed out with his leg, his boot impacting on its attacker's helmet and sending him crashing into the nearest pillar, dead before he even hit the ground.

"We need reinforcements, I repeat we need reinforcements, we're being cut to shreds" Shepard all but screamed into his radio, trying desperately to control his rising panic.

Another man dropped dead after emptying a full magazine worth of bullets less than a yard away from where Shepard was hiding, the giant moving faster than the eye could see. It was as if his body didn´t work the same as a normal person. His movements were so alien, for a lack of a better description. More akin to a force of nature than a sentient being or robotic automation, like a walking tornado tearing through anyone in its path.

He heard stories of fiends from many of the local soldiers, countless tales of monsters who tore people limb from limb over the course of the countries long bloody history, but he ignored them. "Bullshit stories designed to scare children" he remembered calling them. Was this a fiend? If it was he understood just why this entire country seemed to be afraid of them.

"Someone send help" his voice felt horsed from the volume he spoke, "For the love of god, It's here, its fucking here"

The gunfire died suddenly, and for a single moment, Shepard thought he was safe. As if his attacker forgot all about him and left after killing his team. That thought, however, died a violent death when he looked upwards to see the golden visor of his soon to be killer. Shepard stared upwards at the towering figure with only one thought running through his head.

"I wasn't paid enough for this shit"


-Hong Kong 12:00 AM-

The golden Empress Hotel, despite its five-star reputation and world-class luxury that few establishments in the world could rival, had a problem that many similar establishments from all over the world face on an almost nightly basis.

The fact that three beautiful women couldn't seem to enjoy a private moment together, sharing food and drinks as well as their own company, because they seemed to be the target of unwanted attention from nearly every man they came across. Not that any man could be blamed for finding the three young women attractive, on the contrary, these three seemed to hold the attention of every patron of the hotel's rooftop restaurant the moment they entered through the doors.

The first and most recognizable to the staff and patrons of the Golden Empress, not only for her great beauty but also for being the only child of the hotel's owner. She was slender, with long legs and creamy skin, dark brown hair parted with the sides braided back in a ponytail that framed her heart shaped face perfectly. If one couldn't tell who she was from her looks or the fact that the employees of the hotel seemed to fall over themselves to accommodate her, it was her dress, an elaborate red and gold qipao dress, embroidered with the golden phoenix, that identified her as the heiress to the Fang family fortune.

The second, in contrast to her friends, wore simple denim jeans with a camo green colored tank top that did little to hide her athletic and buxom build. Her long brown hair hung in a ponytail against her back framed by a simple pink head bank. But it was her fair features and sky-blue eyes that stood in greatest contrast to her companions. Her western features, framed by her chocolate brown hair, made her look as if a renaissance era statue come to life.

The last and youngest of the three wore a pink kimono with a brightly colored floral pattern, that flowed and swayed like water as she walked. She was of average height, a few inches shorter than both of her companions, but it was her petite build that gave her an almost otherworldly look about her. Her slim and oval face, with full lips and rosy cheeks, was topped with an almost pitch-black head of hair that fell all the way past her lower back. SDespite her youth, she carried herself with a dignity and gentleness that few could hope to match.

So lovely were these women in fact that the moment they made their presence known, a slew of admirers, made their presence known. The young men (and even some women) who tried to woo the young beauties, found themselves in an uphill battle. Despite their best efforts, every single suiter was rejected, at first with politeness, but as the number of flirts increased, the patience of the now annoyed women decreased.

But it was one man, in particular, a young man who wouldn't waste a second before telling anyone who would listen just who his father was and how important he was and just how many connections he had all over the city, just wouldn't take no for an answer. Maybe it was just the type of person he was, or maybe it was the countless drinks he consumed beforehand, but after failing to convince any of the young women to join him in his hotel suite for "Coffee" He made a less then savory comment that in any other instance would find him on the wrong end of a life-altering beating at the hands of the world-class fighters in front of him. But thankfully for the man, as well as the poor employees that would have had to clean up the mess, a simple warning was all it took for the intoxicated individual to learn the error of his ways.

One shattered wrist later, the man now completely sober, as well as all the other young would-bee suiters decided that it would be best to leave altogether and nurse their wounded pride (and in one instance, wounded hand) far away from the objects of their one-sided affection. Now fully left to their own devices, the table of friends became engrossed with both their food and drink as well as what had become their favorite object of conversation.

"Shut, the front, DOOR," Lie Feng screamed, louder than she intended at her best friend as she slapped her glass down on the table with enough force, that her companions worried that it would shatter.

"No way," the younger geisha in training murmured, more as confirmation to herself then a response to her friend's story. How any man could be so dense as to ruin a perfectly romantic moment he found himself in with a girl who loved him, was astounding to say the very least. Especially a seemingly intelligent and rational man like Hayate.

"Yes," Hitomi grinned despite herself, shaking her head with a hand pressed to her forehead and the bridge of her nose. "Yes, he did, up two flights in the elevator, and he held me up the entire time.

"And he didn't kiss you?! not even on the cheek? What is he gay?" the Feng heiress made her disdain known. Seemingly as frustrated as her friends love life problems as she was with her own.

"No, he didn't, And No he isn't Thank you very much," The half-German karate fighter said with a sniff as she drains her drink. "He's just shy."

"Shy?" The Young Chinese woman scoffed," He's a ninja who fights monsters and secret agents, but he's too shy to kiss the girl he loves?"

"Oh come on," Hitomi pleaded with her friend "You make it sound like it was something out of a cheesy romance novel, I hurt myself in our spar, and he was kind enough to help me get back to my apartment, and he left."

"HE LEFT?!" shrieked the two young women in disbelieving unison. Loud enough for Several fellow patrons to try and pay attention to the animated conversation, much to Hitomi's embarrassment.

"Let him go?" Hitomi laughed "I passed out on the floor of my family's dojo! I was sweaty and tired. Of course, he left, what- I mean, what was I going to do? Swoon on him and smear my nasty sweat all over him?" Her bruised ego regarding her less than stellar performance in said spar was one of the many reasons why she couldn't bring herself to make a move on the victorious ninja.

"Yes!" they both said as if they weren't aware of the audience they had attracted.

"Well, I- I mean, come on." Hitomi stuttered, momentarily caught off guard by her friends' rather blunt response.

"It's called, you sit up, tell him "Hey, ninja boy, I'm going to freshen up in the shower, and then I'm going to get dressed, and we're going to drink that nasty sake you like so much and then you're going to kiss my makeup off. "Or it's called, you sit up, and you tell him "Hey, ninja boy, I need to take a shower, but I might need help. You know, in case I fall again," The Fang heiress spoke, with the utmost authority and confidence only one can have when talking about someone else's love life

The geisha in training didn't say anything as she pouted from behind her half-filled glass, but from the look in her eyes, the quiet, polite young girl seemed to agree with her Chinese companion. For a girl who had never once been kissed, let alone had a boyfriend in her life, Kokoro had strong opinions on just how Hitomi should proceed with her love life or lack of a love life as it were. The young Japanese woman seemed to be living vicariously through her German counterpart, which was starting to drive the karate black belt up a wall. So much so Hitomi had to laugh at herself.

"It's always the quiet ones"

"You two are idiots" she muttered more to herself as she finished the drink in front of her as a waiter came by with fresh drinks. "The only idiot I see," Lei Feng said, reaching over to pluck the olive out of her drink, "Is the cute little fool sitting across from me," she says, eyebrows up and the verdict delivered as she pops the green olive in her mouth. "I second that motion," Kokoro said with the subtlest of hiccups as she picks around the fried calamari on her plate. Deep down, or maybe not that far from the surface anymore, Hitomi thirds it.

This was the story of her life to this point. Every time she had worked up the courage to speak to Hayate; she always had had an excuse not to. Even when the two of them were alone, she had managed to ruin the moment spectacularly by challenging the ninja leader to a spar instead of confessing her feelings to him. And like So many times before, she had completely made a fool of herself. She sighed to herself as she felt a headache coming on.

"Well then what exactly do you two want me to do, huh?"

"Oh, Hitomi" Lei Feng sighed to herself as she munched on the plate of dumpling in front of her "What are we going to do with you?"

Hitomi rolled her eyes at her friend's comment "Says the girl pining after a guy who's more interested in street fights then her."

"I am not pinning after that fool!" The young Chinese girl spoke in between bites of her pork dumpling, in a vain attempt to compose her embarrassment "why would you say such a thing!?"

"Perhaps because you follow Jane Lee whenever you know he's around you?"

Hitomi spoke smugly, enjoying her successful attempt at changing the subject away from her own less than stellar love life with her friends less than stellar love life.

"you also have this bad habit of veering conversations towards him randomly." Their geisha trained companion joined in, seemingly content with seeing both of her companions flustered with every passing word they spoke to one another.

"I do no such thing" Lei Feng spoke, sounding almost offended at the character assassination directed towards her. Her declaration doing nothing to quell the amused looks on her friends' faces.

Hitomi sighed once again as she sipped her drink, she wasn't the biggest drinker so even though she was barely finished with her first drink of the night, she could still feel herself getting buzzed already. It was late but the nightlife of Hong Kong was still in full swing, but even though she was in the middle of it, her mind still wondered to Ein.

"No," she thought "Hayate, his name is Hayate"

Even after all this time, she didn't know where she stood with the mysterious fighter who she fell in love with when he was almost a different person to her. She looked to her two friends shooting mocking taunts and exasperated looks towards each other and thought how not a single one of them had much luck in love.

Here she was pining after a guy who she met when he had amnesia, a guy who for all purposes doesn't seem to have the time or even a desire for a relationship. Lei Feng wasn't faring much better, following a man around like a lost puppy who doesn't know the first thing about talking to a woman who wasn't trying to kick his teeth in. And then there's the sheltered geisha who hasn't even held a boy's hand, let alone talked to a boy she liked because of her strict mother. Hitomi thought to herself as she continued watching her friends bicker on and on.

"Maybe we're better off, swearing off men for a while"


-One Mile Underneath The City Of Tairon 1:00 AM-

It was times like this when Rig felt like he should have just stayed on the oil platform his father found him on.

Sure, the work was hard and dangerous. During his first year on the job, Rig remembered seeing a man, no older then he was, lose his entire left arm in a freak accident involving an exploding engine turbine. Everything below his elbow joint gone in an eruption of blood and flesh, like it was the world's worst piñata. The man bled to death less than a minute later, long before anyone could get any semblance of help, babbling like a baby for his mother in his final moments.

Some guys can't even seem to die like men

And sure, the pay was shit. But at the very least there was always a bar within walking distance, with booze cheap enough that no matter how much he drank, his rather minuscule paycheck wasn't affected much.

"Are you even listening to me?" The voice of his father shook him out of his thought. The cell phone in Rigs hand doing little to muffle the annoyance in his father's voice.

But at the very least I didn't have to deal with this shit

"I didn't send you halfway around the world to threaten my men like a schoolyard bully" his father spoke to him like he always did, like a child who didn't know any better. It was one of the reasons why Rig packed up his stuff and left all those years ago. Only to come crawling back when his father asked him to years later.

Victor Donovan always gets his way, one way or another.

"If you wanted someone to hold these guys hands and treat them real nice, then you sent the wrong guy to be your lap dog,"

" I sent you..."

"You sent me to keep these old bastards in line, you sent me to make sure that they knew who was in charge, and you sent me to make sure every single god damn lab coat down here knows what is going to happen to them if they try and undercut us" Rig said, shooting a glare at an unfortunate lab assistant who, not very subtly, tried listening to the phone conversation. Luckily for the man, he managed to scurry off before Rig could make good on his non-verbal threat.

He's a dead man if I catch him again.

"I understand that You're frustrated, but you have to understand where we currently stand." his father paused, the faint sound of another cigarette being lite was heard before he continued "The attack on the Militia bass has left us weak in the region. Don't you see? one of our biggest testing grounds has been wiped out, our clients are... concerned that they too may not be safe from what is coming"

"It's not my job to play nice with those people, that's your job."

"You're acting like a child, I sent you there to oversee the research, and to be my eyes and ears in the lab." Rigs father paused, the sound of him inhaling his ever-present cigarette the only sound filling rigs ear over the phone "God knows what these snakes would do if left unsupervised for long."

"Then maybe you should be here then, you would be more at home with these brainiacs then I would. I'm not the type of guy you send to babysit a couple of lab rats"

"These lab rats as you call them are working on advancing our research hundreds if not thousands of years," The older man paused again, fully intending for the importance his words to sink in, but having his son simply roll his eyes in response. "Technolgy like this, under our very noses for countless millennia, the implications simply boggles the mind, It is just a shame I couldn't be there myself"

"And why aren't you here again?"

"Simple, the present political climate of the area simply makes travel for someone like myself too much of a liability. Your presence serves as the next best thing"

"What's wrong pops, a little gunfire to much noise for you?

"But of course, unlike you, I happen to understand where my talents would be most advantageous. I'm surprised you're so hostile with my decision, I assumed a besieged city crawling with looting and rioting would be right up your alley"

"It would be if I didn't have to hold the hand of some pompous, overeducated fossil trying to open up E.T.'s laptop."

"These "pompous old fossils" as you call them will serve their purpose, then you can do what you will with them. Until then, however, I expect you to act as a man of your station requires, and not the thug you tend to be"

"I thought you said being a thug was one of the few things I ever excelled In."

" It is one of the few things you ever put any effort into, but you could excel in a great many more things when you choose to. Perhaps you should think about how your actions cause others to view our organization"

You mean how people view you, don't you?

"You spend too much time worrying about what others think of you"

"You don't spend Enough time worrying what others think of you," His father spoke, annoyance dripping off of every word. "You go around, acting as boorish as you did when I found you on that oil platform. Perhaps if you listened to me and put actual effort into fixing others perception of you then maybe you wouldn't be in the situation you find yourself in."

"I couldn't care less about what people think about me" Rig said, already imagining the disapproving look on his father's face, one of the few default looks his father wears that wasn't "utter contempt for those around him" "silent disgust" and the look rig most remembered from his childhood "complete disinterest"

"No," the response came swiftly, almost a split second before rig finished speaking." That's exactly what you want people to think about you, you want people to think that you're above them all."

The irony of the old man telling HIM this wasn't exactly lost on the younger man as he waited as patiently as he could for his father to continue their "Talks".

"Does it bother you?" It was asked as a question, but Rig could sense the smirk on his father's face when he said those words like he already knew the answer and was trying to prove just how intelligent he was. "When you hear those men speak ill of you? when they treat you like the buffoon you act like?

"Of course, it doesn't bother me," he said, sounding more exasperated then he intended to sound."

"Don't lie to me boy, I know better than most what it's like to be looked down on by fools who lack vision and foresight." There was a slight pause from his father before he continued. "Speaking of fools who lack vision, I've been told by some of our field operatives, that there has been conflict in the city streets"

"Guys like the men you sent tend to get a little angsty when they're locked in a city for this long, they have to find their own fun"

"I don't mean that," his father admonished before adding" What I mean is, reports are showing that some of our forces are facing resistance, and we're losing communications all across the city, take these two factors together and it doesn't take a particularly great mind like myself or the one you've wasted to see what may become a problem."

Rig fought off an eye roll as his father continued to prattle on and on about the fighting happening in the city above his head. Either the men were too busy killing rioters to answer their calls or the mercenaries they hired weren't as good as advertised and were getting killed off by the civilians left over in the city. Whatever the cause was, it didn't affect what was happening down here. If this was something his father was that worried about he would have sent Rig to go handle it himself.

This was just another excuse for Victor Donovan to hear himself talk.

"Relax pops, I'll handle it." Rig said, but before his father could respond, he ended the call, ideally annoying his sire by not letting him get the last word in. Rig knew for a fact, that he would be on the receiving end of one of his father's inane lectures on for his last action, but he couldn't bring himself to care all that much, only satisfied that for now he would be left to his own devices for the time being.

The sound of cloth ruffling in the wind made Rig aware he wasn't alone. The fact that no wind was blowing almost a mile underground made Rig aware just who, or more accurately, what was behind him.

"My father sent you here to me for a reason," Rig started, turning towards the smaller figure," Make sure, that you follow everything I say from now on, is that understood?" The figure didn't answer, didn't react in any way that showed it even understood the words that left Rigs mouth. He walked away, wondering to himself if his father's creation was really needed, whatever was happening up there, he didn't need a walking science project to fight his battles for him.

Like you always said old man, it's one of the few things I ever did excel in.


-The streets of Tairon 1:30 AM-

John paid close attention to anything out of place, taking mental notes as the ancient cities only active population tried desperately to escape through its streets,

He had to be cautious, the city, despite the enemy combatants currently shooting at him, was still densely populated with unarmed civilians. Civilians that the enemy forces deemed fit as "acceptable losses" in the face of conflict. John's attention shifted from the city street to the radar of his HUD, making sure the city block was completely devoid of movement before he made his move, dashing what had to be the length of a football field in the manner of seconds.

"Chief." his AI companion spoke for the first time in several minutes, a strange occurrence for his usual talkative friend. "I've been listening to the radio chatter. You really put the fear of god into these guys," The smart AI spoke, listening to the dozens of ongoing radio signals blowing up at the current moment "Either they were unfortunate enough to run into you, or they're hiding in the sewers and ignoring whoever is in charge. This city is secure"

"For the time being," The Spartan said, He knew from experience never to get too comfortable when one thought the battle was over. All it took was one moment to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. His A.I companion sighed, the same type of sigh she always seemed to make when she grew tired of the chief's unrelenting stoicism and narrow view on only what was needed for the mission at hand. Despite not having a physical body, or even a visible face most of the time, the chief knew his companion well enough to know what she was thinking from just the slightest clue she would inadvertently give him.

"Chief, has anyone ever told you that you need to stop and smell the flowers every once and while? It would do us both some good,"

"There are no flowers in the area Cortana..."

Cortana huffed, though she gave a wry smile at the Spartan. "It's an expression chief, you know a figure of speech? This is the first-midnight stroll you've taken me on and all you can think about is work, work, work." she teased. "I swear, you can be such a man, sometimes."

"…I am a man, Cortana."

"COMPLETELY beside the point!" Cortana said with a roll of her eyes, as she surveyed the map of the city she managed to acquire through the city's public records, and marked down another section of the city devoid of active military patrols. The last man they had left alive was nice enough to give them the location of several of his comrades and their routes of movement. Thankfully, while her Spartan was rather blunt and forward most of the time, that didn't mean he lacked the finesse needed for interrogation.

"If what the man said was true, and I have no doubt it was," Cortana said, a list of crossed out locations appearing from the screen of the Spartans HUB. "We're down to one last outpost located several city blocks north of our general location, it's their main communications center, so If there's any information on what is under the city, it's going to be there."

"You sure we can trust the word of a man like that?"

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" She gave him a questioning look before she continued "Trust me, everything he said was true. He would have told you just about anything to get you to leave him alone"

While the need for Spartans to perform field interrogations were never in high demand during the Covenant War, with most hostiles never surviving their altercations with the UNSC super soldiers, O.N.I had made the art of interrogating ones enemy a pivotal part of their training growing up. The complete shock and awe of his abilities did wonders to the state of mind of his targets, enough that even the mention of violence would cause any normal person to spill whatever secrets they held. You don't want someone screaming; you want them asking questions - asking themselves, "What is a man who took out my entire unit going to do to me?" and then "What can I do to make him not do that to me?" If they're in too much pain they'll say anything for the pain to stop, but have a seven-foot tall super soldier dangle them over a top of an apartment complex and they'll be talking out of instinct.

The makeshift interrogation went as well as could be expected. The injured soldier, who despite showing no mercy to the weak and downtrodden when he had the upper hand found himself on his hands and knees begging for his life when the situation was inverted.

He was of some use, however, as the last words, the man uttered before he again found himself in front of a bullet seemed to prove the time travelers theories true. Whatever the reason for the deployment of armed forces in the city was, it wasn't to quell rioting and looting. If anything, it was the army that was doing most if not all of the city-wide carnage. With the majority of the cities population evacuated out, whoever remained was too terrified to leave their homes, leaving some of the more optimistic and violent of the soldier's free rein to pick the city clean of any valuables they could find.

Which meant he couldn't finish his primary mission until he made sure that the treatment to the civilian population was neutralized. If that meant spending hours stalking and killing violent and sadist mercenaries, then so be it.

The master chief was taken from his train of thought as his HUD blazed to life, signaling someone closing in on his location. Three blips, indicating three unknowns heading towards him, in a rather slow and sporadic manner.

"Chief" Cortana spoke, whatever teasing tone she spoke with before was gone, mentally going through several battle plans that could prove vital in what she assumed was an enemy counterattack. Those plans, however, would prove to be useless as the figure entered into view for the first time.

"I know, I see her"

The young girl was covering her mouth with her hands in the attempt to make as little noise as possible but he still heard her, she was moving as rapidly as she could without being seen. She was young, barely into her teens. but her eyes shored horrors well beyond her years. From his position, he could tell the young girl was heading towards what he assumed was a less violent area of the city, one of the many dozens of city blocks that were patrolled by the local police department rather than the foreign mercenaries he's been dealing with these past few hours.

Unknown to the young girl, however, but known to the Spartan, was that the girl wasn't alone, she was being followed. Two blocks away, the men stalked her, trying hard not to be seen or heard by the frantic teen as she nearly hobbled towards her destination, wherever it was. The men wore familiar uniforms, the same uniforms of the men who the chief and his AI companion have hunted down these past few hours.

Two large threatening men, a dark and secluded alleyway and no one to hear them for blocks. One didn't have to be a genius to see the young woman was in trouble, Big Trouble.

"Cortana..." The Chief said hoisting the massive gun from his back.

"I'm surprised you have to ask..."


-Five Minutes Later-

She glanced around looking for a way out but found none. She took a step back towards the brick wall of the alley, the two men on either side of her stopping her from advancing. Slowly they advanced towards her, one fingering the pistol in his holster as the other twirled a baton in his hands, almost making a game out of the young woman's fear.

"Please," the girl said as she was backed closer to the wall "Please don't hurt me, you don't want to do this."

"Look at her" the soldier with the baton laughed." She thinks she's in a position to tell us what to do."

"I say we shoot the bitch and be done with her" The other man spoke hoarsely as he un-holstered his gun, waving it directly at the young girls face.

"Now why would we do that?" the other man said in a mocking tone, directed more at his victim then the man he spoke to. "We can still have some fun with her before we get rid of her, why spoil all the fun?" He grabbed her hand roughly enough to form a bruise on the girl's arm as he pulled her closer to him.

"Come on baby," he said as he stroked his baton across the cheek of the now crying woman" Why do you have to be like that? we could be great friends if you were just a little nicer to us" But with a sudden panic, the young girl managed to pull herself away, managing to elbow the man in the face as hard as she could. The crunch she heard was satisfying for a moment as the thought of the bastards broken nose. But the sound of the other man's warning shot whizzing past her head erased any idea chance of survival out of her mind. Still clutching his bloodied face, the man struck at her and nailed her with a vicious slap across the face sending her spiraling to the floor.

"You're going to regret that yo..." the man's shout was cut off with a deafening bang as he was thrown back by the force of the gunfire. Faster than the dead man's partners could react, or for the young girl to process what was happening in front of her very eyes, a massive figure appeared as if out of nowhere. The second man, finally catching his bearings, took aim and fired at the figure but hit nothing but air, before the dark humanoid cut the distance between the two and grabbed the shooter by the throat, slamming him into the brick wall with enough force to both knock the wind out of and blur the vision of the woman's would-be assailant.

He heard the voice of the girl, who a moment ago was on the verge of tears "Oh my god..."

"You move, and I break your neck," said the distinctly male voice thundering like a cannon, ending whatever struggle the man would have put up, as his feet dangled off the ground.

The girl stood stunned, not knowing whether the smart move was to stay where she stood or to run away. The two men who assaulted her were intimidating enough to keep her frozen in fear, but the thing in front of her, taller than any man she had ever seen by at least a foot and more than twice as wide shoulder to shoulder then the men he dispatched like they were nothing?

The thing turned its head towards her, its face was hidden but she could still tell the powerful gaze staring back at her.

"Are you okay?" It asked the question smoothly, the baritone of its voice reverberating through her bones like they were a xylophone. The low rumble of its voice was comforting in a strange way she couldn't quite describe. She squeaked and flushed when she realized it was waiting for her to answer its question.

"I'm fine" She pips, like a field mouse staring up at a bear, wondering whether or not if she was going to be eaten or not. Her answer seemed to be fine, as the giant gave a slight nod of his head in affirmative, as it turned back to the man in its massive hand, the petrified look of terror on the man's face reflecting off the golden mirror of the giant's helmet.

"You should go get help" It spoke in the deepest voice she had ever heard in her life, sounding more like a rolling thunderstorm than a person.

The girl didn't need to be told twice, as she bolted out of the alleyway without even looking back, Pure fear and adrenaline pushing her forward. Only Stopping for a moment when a scream erupted from the alleyway she ran from, before steeling herself and continuing her movement, fully content to leave to the man who would have done unspeakable things to her to suffer at the hands of whatever deemed fit to save her life.


-London, England 1:45 AM-

It was times like this Christie loved being her own boss.

Sure, being a government assassin certainly had its advantages over being a freelancer. You do get support while performing a hit, Protection from whatever retribution that would follow, and of course, government backing for jobs made financing an assassination much simpler.

But for all the freedoms and benefits working for a government agency, there were stipulations that a girl like Christie felt were deal breakers. Government agencies, like oh so many in her life are notorious for micromanagement. The idea of her Employers trying to keep tabs on her 24/7 while on the job mad her skin crawl. So much, in fact, Christie decided to go into business for herself.

That had always been the main sticking point for Christie; she was a girl who loved her privacy, and she was a girl who hated when people told her what to that, she always enjoyed the luxury of picking her own targets. Her targets weren't numbers on a piece of paper given to her by a handler; She liked to get to know her contacts

She was an independent contractor who at the end of the day had the final say on what jobs were interesting enough, and whose lives were worth the effort it would take to snuff out. Which is part of the reason why the statuesque Brit found herself currently in a London hotel suite, her long silky smooth fingers wrapped around the neck of the oh so appealing target she chose to spend her time on, choking the life out of the man as he struggled in vain to save his own life.

"Relax love" the voice sounded like it would be more at home speaking to a small child then performing a murder.

"You're only making this harder on yourself." the only sign of acknowledgment that her words were heard was a violent jerk that failed to do much more than annoy the British hitwoman. In fact, annoying Christie was just one of the many mistakes the man had made these past few days, none the more egregious than the one that started this whole situation.

To put it frankly, the man couldn't have picked a worse girl to fuck.

The man, or soon to be corpse was relatively smart, reasonably good looking and somewhat charismatic, the problem was he knew he had all those qualities and was dumb enough to think he was smarter and more handsome than he was. The perfect combination for a man to get himself into a bad what was the source of the man's current bad situation? The same thing that would be his downfall.

He seduced the wrong girl.

His girlfriend, or at the very least the girl he had been sleeping with these past few weeks was the daughter of a very powerful man. A man who didn't like the idea of his only daughter sleeping with the soon to be corpse before her. The fact that he was pushing 30 and had a long history of seducing and gold digging women from affluent families and she was a 14-year-old high school student who didn't know shit about how men like him were, made the fact that her father was upset and angry understandable for most ordinary people.

What was not as acceptable to most people was hiring an assassin to clean up the mess "daddy's little princess" had caused, and clean it up discreetly. Which was why Christie didn't just gun the man down from the perch of one of the many surrounding buildings as he walked down the street or even slit his throat while he slept. she had to make it look like an accident.

Getting close to a man without getting him suspicious was an art she had picked up in her earliest days as an up and coming hitman. For your average female assassin, picking up the potential victim at a bar is harder than it might seem. Most men have a sense for when a pickup is going too well. If it's too easy, they immediately get suspicious, for guys already paranoid about potential dangers they face while on the run, it could be the difference between one too many flirtatious winks or an eagerness to get some "alone time" that could mark them as a setup as easily as a neon sign that wrote "IM HERE TO KILL YOU."

If she plays too hard to get, guys would just walk away and look for what they thought would be an easier woman. The line between aloof ice queen and easy trollop looking for a good time was a thin one, but it was one that Christie walked like an expert. So much of an expert in fact that the paranoid man on the run and fearing for his life didn't think twice about inviting the buxom English lass he met less than an hour before into his hotel room for some quality alone time. It was almost like he was asking for it.

"Shhhhhhhhh" she silenced the dying man's whimpers as his struggles lessened more and more by the second. When the struggling stopped, and Christie saw his eyes roll into the back of his head, she jerked her hands to the side, snapping her victim's neck like a twig before walking herself and her newest "Conquest" towards the balcony of the suite.

"Well then Luv," she said to herself as she dragged the now lifeless body behind her towards the balcony, and more importantly the ten-story fall to the busy London street below.

"It's been a riot, but a girl can't keep a client waiting, not even for a handsome man like you" she straightened and readjusted her victim's disheveled clothing in an attempt to make the corpse somewhat presentable like some sort of perverse joke. With a light push, however, the body disappeared from view and Christie turned to leave the soon to be crime scene, the sound of traffic screeching to a halt as well as faint screams of horror from passersby filling her ears as she exited the hotel suite.


-City of Tairon 2:00 AM-

"We're taking heavy fire, we're in need of assistance, over"

"We got a man down in Section A, we need immediate evacuation"

"The armored vehicle is down, I repeat armored vehicle IS down"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

And then, just like that, their transmissions stopped.

"Fuck me" came the only response from, now, the highest-ranking member of the ground forces left in the city. Jackson Briggs was a man who many would describe as a hard ass. Pig headed and volatile, he was as feared as he was disliked by the men who followed him, the only thing keeping his men in line was the fear of finding themselves on the wrong end of his famous temper, and that was before his cybernetic enhancements.

Like many members of both Black Castle and the Vigoor army, Jackson, or Jax as many had taken to call him, had undergone several surgeries that physically altered his body, Both his arms, both his legs, and his left eye had been replaced with MIST designed prosthesis, that only seemed to make that man more feared by those under his command.

It was those same enhancements and that same temper that caused Jax to lash out violently to any man who gave him reports of the dire situation in the city.

Over 300 men were confirmed dead, another 50 were missing, either too injured to be much help or too frightened of being found by whoever was out there to report in. He knew at least two of the four armored vehicles were most certainly down for the count and if the radio silence from the air division was any indication, they couldn't rely on any of their un-maned drones for any form of reconnaissance. If Jax manages to survive through the night, he most certainly would be looking for a new job. Neither Victor Donovan nor the men he worked with tend to keep those who fail them on the payroll for long.

All and all, they were up shit creek without a paddle. Then while they were up that very same creek, they were attacked by a swarm of bears.

The Captain, and for all he knew from the sheer number of casualties of the unit, the highest-ranking member of the military left alive in the city, screamed and smashed his fist onto the console. "All soldiers, converge on Unit one's position! The man who brings me the corpses of these fuckers gets paid double!"

That should be more than enough to motivate his troops, but the Captain worried about the effectiveness of said motivation. If they hadn't been able to counter whatever was out there when it had been slaughtering them, what could a promise of more money do?

The desire to re-group every remaining one of his men and travel to the underground bunker rose within him. The bunker, where those MIST engineers and scientists were hard at work doing whatever the hell they were doing, was almost a mile underground. With enough supplies, they could hunker down there and hold off whoever was out there long enough for reinforcements to arrive to get them out of the god forsaken city.

But...

If whatever was out there found the entrance to the underground base because of him?

Well, if that were the case, then getting a new job would be the least of his worries. If he was the reason the unknown attackers found their way into the base, there would be hell to pay. If they could give him cybernetic enhancements, logic would dictate they could, and would take it away from him just as easily, and it wasn't likely that they kept his old limbs to reattach to him.

"Captain!" One of his officers then yelled. "The Glory just stopped communicating!"

Oh...Oh shit

The news was so unexpected, Jax barely understood what it meant. The glory was the pride of the Black Castles air support. A modified Apache helicopter with anti-tank guided missiles, twin 30 mm cannons, a modified 360-degree scanner that made it impossible for anything to escape its path. It was basically a flying battleship designed by the best engineers M.I.S.T. had to offer, and it was easily the most advanced piece of hardware in the city that wasn't connected to the underground laboratory near the center of the city. And it stopped communicating. Just what the hell was going on?

"What do you mean, stopped communicating?" He demanded. The Lieutenant in charge of the air division would pay for his incompetence!

"We lost all communications north of Twin Serpents Plaza, the glory went to check for survivors," The officer paused to gauge his commanding officer's reaction, "Their last report was several minutes ago, and they haven't responded back to any of our attempts for updates since."

A 400-million-dollar experimental attack drone, thrown out the fucking window. what else could go wrong?

As if the universe heard his private thoughts the captain found himself interrupted by a nervous private, a nervous private who had been eyeing the captain's cybernetic enhanced arm with great apprehension since he entered the room.

Jax didn't recognize the young man at first, the names and faces of the grunts and footmen of the unit blurring together into one great group disappointment, but he knew at the very least he had seen him before.

"Oh yeah," he thought with a grimace. "He was supposed to be watching the prisoners."

The building they were occupying was a high-rise apartment complex, one of the tallest buildings in the district. So tall in fact, it was the perfect spot to act as the communications hub for the entire occupation. Those who lived in the building didn't exactly see things that way and had openly resisted them in commandeering the building.

They put up a fight at first, but a few well-placed bullets and a couple cracked skulls made them rethink their any ideas they might have had about fighting back, at least for the most part. While most of the tenets moved out of their homes, others still remained, refusing to leave and doing their best to make the soldiers' jobs harder than they had to be.

"They wanted to stay, well guess what? now they couldn't leave"

At least they weren't supposed to, in fact considering exactly what kind of treatment some of the more "frustrated" soldiers under his command levied at some of the female prisoners, it might be for the best that whatever happened inside these walls never got out.

Men and woman with broken bones and internal injuries complaining about their stolen or damaged belongings? Clearly, they were nothing more than violent looters and rioters complaining about their ill-gotten goods being taken away. Video footage of his men gunning down civilians? Obviously, they were endangering the lives of their fellow civilians and needed to be handled before they hurt someone else. Whatever incidents that happened under his command could and would be swept under the rug as "unfortunate necessities of war"

But a bunch of hired guns keeping a dozen or so young women imprisoned in a makeshift sex dungeon under their base of operations? That was a PR nightmare that no one wanted any part in.

"I'm not going to prison because of some skinny bastard couldn't do the one job he had."

The commander loomed over his subordinate, nose to nose with the smaller private and growled right into his face. "Tell me exactly how you managed to let that bitch escape from her cage?"

The private put his hands up and assumed a posture that literary screamed "Please don't beat me to death", as he looked for help from his squad mates in the room, but none of them seemed too keen about stepping in front of the cybernetic commander in his current mood. "I put our best trackers on the job, we'll get her back within the hour."

"Not fast enough" he roared again, causing the rooms other inhabitants to wince in pain from the volume of his voice," If that whore isn't in front of me in half an hour, I'm going to break the neck of the men responsible for this shit show."

An older man in his late 30's, who was clearly used to the cyborg's outbursts, spoke as calmly as he could. "Consider it done sir."

The large man gritted his teeth and seethed in frustration as he punched the wall nearest to him. The private who he'd been intimidating was directly in front of thst very same wall but managed to duck away from the blow in time. Cracks forming in the stone wall directly where his head was positioned.

"Oh, I know you will. Or I'll make corpses out of all of you."

The room's inhabitants all shrunk away from him slightly. The commander gave them a smug smile as he looked at all of them with murder in his eyes." Either you're not as useless as I thought you were or you manage to fuck up again. Either way, someone is going to die tonight, you better hope your trackers are as good as you say."

"They are," the older man said trying to calm the murderous commander down, before turning to the frightened private "Have they called in?"

"Not yet," said the private as he stood from his ducked position. "Nothing but static these last few minutes, there might be an electrical prob..." He was cut off as his radio buzzed to life. "Central, this is station one, I just heard something, I'm going to investigate"

The private shared a look of concern with the older second in command for a moment. Station one was the snipers' position on the roof of the building.

The private suddenly looked to his much less angry and much more concerned commander "Uh, copy station one, keep us up to date"

"Roger central," came the reply, another long silence ensued, then a burst of static filled the room, "Central, this is station six. I Found One, he's dead, knife wound to the throat, someone sliced him ear to ear and his radio is missing-"

There was a choking noise and the communication shut off. Jax didn't survive this long in life without understanding how a battle was won or lost within the first few seconds of interaction. Whoever was out there, they made the first movie and it pushed Jax, whose nerves were all-ready on edge overboard. "Send out the alarm to all stations," he screamed, "We fortify here, no one leaves and no one enters until I say so."

Thankfully, there was no backtalk or second guessing as his men fell back and followed his instructions blocking out and fortifying any and all possible points of entry while Jax himself strode to the back of the room, hoisting his shotgun from up against the wall.

"All stations, report," Jax ordered, his voice filled with equal parts authority and malice.

There was no reply.

"I repeat, all stations, report" Jax spoke again, the faces of his comrades falling more and more as once again no one seemed to answer his order.

"All of them are down in less than two minutes?!, that's ten men, that's impossible."

"Would you shut your mouth," The grizzled vet muttered. "It's just a-"

What he was going to say to quiet the younger man down would never be known, as his head seemed to vaporize in a mass of dark red gore and blood, his body crumpling to the floor dead before the ringing left the ears of the man he was speaking to.

"The window" yelled Jax in barely contained rage, as they all busied themselves unloading every single bullet they had into one side of the room where the lone sniper round entered from. After all most a full minute of nonstop firing, Jax held up a hand signaling for his subordinates to stop shooting, which seemed to be a moot point as many of the inhabitants of the room, including Jax himself, had run through their surplus ammo in the minute-long shootout. He listened, for any sign that their attack was successful but could hear nothing but the heavy breathing of his men around him.

The stillness of the scene was broken when the ceiling above them erupted open with a deafening boom. But while the rest of the room's occupants seemed to be blinded by the smoke and debris, Jax, with the use of his enhanced eyesight saw exactly what had entered the room from the hole in the ceiling.

Before he could do anything, however, a shot slammed into his left elbow joint, tearing through bone, flesh, and metal. He bellowed out in agony as the force of the blow knocked him to the ground as he felt another shot rip through his right shoulder, utterly destroying his entire synthetic right arm in the process.

As he lay prone on the ground armless and completely helpless, all he could hear were the sounds of his henchmen being gunned down one by one. By the time the cloud of dust subsided, Jax and his attacker were the lone living men left in the room.

The massive black shape, slowly walked towards the now armless cyborg as he tried to control his breathing and collect himself. His cybernetic enhancements had increased his pain tolerance far beyond normal people but even that seemed to do little to delude what was the most pain he had ever experienced in his life.

The behemoth stalked closer, and Jax heard the distinct metallic sound of a gun being reloaded and cocked. Jax tried to twist from his downed position and move away, but what remained of his limbs wouldn't respond. Flashes of light appeared on either side of the man's head illuminating it's almost glass-like face for the first time.

"So, what exactly where you sent to protect in this city?" It spoke in a robotic voice they gave no indication of humanity as he leveled the barrel of the largest assault rifle Jax had ever seen in his life directly in front of his face. After seeing just what this man? thing? , whatever it was, and what it was capable of doing, Jax had only one thing on his mind.

Survival


-Tairon Police Headquarters 2:30 AM-

"Get your asses moving! We don't have all day!" Captain Gregory R. Irons of the Tairon police department shouted to his men, who were running around the police headquarters like frightened children.

He was not having the best of days, as the usual paperwork and reports of drunks screaming about getting back together with their exes were replaced with trying to keep some semblance of peace after the riots had nearly torn the city apart.

Fires needed to be put out; barricades needed to put up, medical supplies needed to be transported throughout the areas hospitals, emergency food, and water needed to be rationed out. And all the while the detachment of the military that was meant to supplement their stretched-thin police force was out there in the city causing more damage than the rioters and fires. Looting was a given, he expected that, hell as long as they kept the peace and did what they were supposed to do they could take whatever wasn't taken already. It was the overzealous way of handling citizens they found outside after curfew that had him worried.

He had gotten reports of a couple walking home getting beaten to a pulp and thrown in the back of a truck for not having four forms of ID on them. A few men were gunned down on the streets for "resisting arrest" for a crime no one reported. Capital punishment was being issued on the streets by gun-totting madmen and the only thing he could do without getting his own men killed was standing there and pretend to be ok with the whole ordeal.

"Any luck?" the police captain asked as his subordinate came into view, the rookie officer seemingly rethinking his choice in Profession for what had to be the tenth time in the past day alone. "Not yet, sir, the orders are to keep the peace and to help the military with anything they need."

"Help?" the old police captain scoffed "you mean clean up their messes when they do something fucked up right?" He lit a cigarette, whose brand he wasn't fully sure of and took a deep drag of it. His wife would have been on his ass if she saw him smoking, but he didn't care, he needed anything he could get his hands on that would take the edge off. And it wasn't like he could drink on the job, so chain smoking it was the only thing he had going for him right now.

"Sir" a young man shouted towards the captain and rookie, interrupting their conversation. A 10-year veteran of the force, he had been regulated to the front desk since an injury earlier in the year, he must have been working his third triple shift in so many days manning the dispatch radio for help keep the department somewhat organized.

"Don't tell me,"

"I'm afraid so, " he said handing several incident reports to his superior, "At this rate, we're going to run out of body bags to put them in."

"We'll just burn the fuckers if we need to," he said with a huge exhale of cigarette smoke, as his eyes scanned the incident reports in front of him.

all of them said much the same thing. Reports of gunfire all across the city from an unknown source, bodies of the same military he had been raging against littering the streets almost as a warning for their comrades to run and hide from whatever was hunting them or they would be next.

Dozens of attacks over the past few hours had crippled the military presence in the city, to the point where it was any other time, the old police captain wouldn't be able to maintain his brave facade in front of his men. Strangely enough, however, not a single incident seemed to be against any of his own officers, in fact, it almost seemed like his men and the parts of the city they patrolled were straight up ignored in favor of those patrolled by foreign mercenaries or soldiers.

He'd feel offended about being ignored if he wasn't so terrified by the thought of what the hell was out there in his city.

He remembered a story his grandmother used to tell him, about the small fishing village she grew up in. About how a huge monstrous bear terrorized the small community for years, killing off anyone who walked through a certain part of the woods that surrounded the village. After nearly a dozen villagers were found dead alongside the border of the creature's territory, the village elders decided it was time to put an end to its reign of terror.

Life-long hunters, experienced woodsmen, self-proclaimed monster hunters, men from all over thcountrysidede flocked to the small village in hopes of killing the great beast and earning the reward. But no matter how skilled they were, or how many tried, the bodies of every man who entered those cursed woods would be found days later, almost unrecognizable from the mauling.

After a while, the villagers began to ignore the woods altogether, never venturing too deep into the forest, and making it forbidden for anyone to travel through it after dark. After a while, the sightings of the bear diminished, until one day the bear must have simply moved on. But even afterwards, generations after the last killing, no one ever seemed to enter that part of the woods again, out of fear of running into the beast again.

His grandmother would always seem to tell him that story whenever young Gregory found himself in a rather dangerous or in most cases, a stupid situation. It was a lesson that never really resonated with him as a child, no matter how much she would tell it. Stay away from danger and it will leave on its own. It might have been one of the earliest moments where Captain Irons can remember when he wanted to be a police officer. He wasn't the type of person to ever run away from danger when innocents were involved.

But now? With someone or something lurking in the city, stalking and killing trained soldiers armed to the teeth with military grade weapons? It sure as shit wasn't a bear out there, but it certainly got the point across.

Just then, shaking the elder police officer out of his thoughts, a young girl entered the police station. normally in the chaos before him, with dozens, if not hundreds of men filling the already cramped building, the addition of a young girl, who didn't even look to be older then 16, would do little to warrant attention. Have the same young girl, covered in bruises and blood that wasn't hers, come walking through the doors screaming about how a one eyed green giant saved her from certain death, well one tends to pay attention to events like that.

The private, for all his inexperience, was the first person to her side when she almost collapsed from exhaustion. After the decision was made to bring her to the captains own office for privacy and medical attention, the private swept the girl, who didn't look that much younger then the police private off her feet and carried her off, all the while babbling about the giant hunting down all the "bad men with guns"

The captain sighed, putting out his cigarette and following the private into his office, feeling more sympathy for the people of his grandmother's home town then he ever had before in his life.


-One Mile Below Tairon 2:30 AM-

"It seems more and more of your father's men are going dark, what are we to do about this" Rig tried to retain his composure as a pair of calculating green eyes analyzed him like he was a specimen on an operation table. "You'll forgive me for wondering if these recent events will hinder our operations"

His right hand balled into a fight as he carefully thought over his response. Sure, he could walk over to the old woman and break her neck and be done with it, but then his father would be on his case about How his behavior was "unbecoming of a man of our family" or some other bullshit he usually says to him whenever Rig does something to displease his father.

Not like Victor Donovan couldn't find something to be displeased about.

During his first few hours in the base, after showing the head scientist who was in charge, most of the men and women working like a bee hive ignored him, too afraid they would do or say anything that would make them the next victim of his temper. Something changed however after his phone call with his father.

It was almost as if the story of him getting talked down too by dear old dad has spread throughout the underground facility, like which girl slept with who on prom night. So not only were they spineless weaklings, they were also gossiping brown nooses trying to get in the good graces of his father. So, they decided it would be best to test the new restrictions placed on him, by subtly or not so subtly taking turns belittling him.

"That's right, poke the lion"

"Whatever's happening up there isn't going to touch us all the way down here," Rig said looking at the swarm of lab rats working on... whatever exactly they were working on.

The woman, a middle-aged crone who looked more at home beating disobedient children in an orphanage then in a science lab, smiled at him, so smug in her false sense of safety that she didn't see the murderous look in Rigs eyes. His father had basically ordered him to be on his best behavior, which meant not to physically assault nor verbally assault anyone in his employ. It was one of the many tests Rig was forced to take to see if he was up to the task of being the heir of Victor Donovan.

"And he wonders why I left in the first place"

Rig, sensing that if he continued to stare at the woman in front of him for much longer, would break one of her boney fingers out of principle, turned his attention towards the reason for this exercise of patience he had to suffer through for his dear old dad.

The only person, and that's using the term loosely, that didn't seem to take enjoyment in tormenting him, was stuck in an isolated corner of the room several feet away, watching the techs go about their work. It didn't take any enjoyment from Rigs displeasure, not because it liked Rig, not that it felt sorry for Rig. It was because it didn't have the capability to enjoy much of anything.

The black hood hiding most of her features gave her an eerie appearance, that put everyone else more on edge then they already were, more so even than her near silent vigil would have been normally. Whatever it was thinking, or doing was as much a mystery to Rig as the ancient object was to everyone else.

The massive tower? Wall?...whatever it was, dominated the underground cavern that housed it. Sleek strips of metal, with faint hues of blue radiating from it were crisscrossing the stone walls, indicating more of the structure hidden behind the bedrock. He over-heard some of the more vocal engineers exclaim that the metal like substance was made of a material not found on the periodic table, materials resistance to the ravages of times like nothing else imaginable, from the looks of the still pristine almost organic structure.

Tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of years buried under a mile of stone and dirt did nothing to erode the glyphs and symbols that littered all across the sheets of strange steel visible from underneath the rock. 'An alien Rosetta Stone" one man claimed, clearly drunk on the idea that his work could go down as the greatest human discovery of all time.

"And here I am, getting talked down to by a bunch of over educated wimps,"

So utterly bored and filled with contempt for his current situation and the people around him was Rig, that when the Emergency alert rang out all throughout the underground lab, Rig didn't fully understand what was happening.

"Wha-what's happening?" The same scientist, whose green eyes that was filled with smugness and contempt but a moment ago was now filled with equal parts confusion and fear. The change was so sudden and complete, Rig had to fight to keep the smirk off his face. Seeing the same looks on every person's face as they looked away from their computer screens and experiments as the alarms blazed its warnings, looking like scared children when the lights went off, Rigs resolve cracked and he found himself smiling like a cat who ate the canary.

"You know when I said whatever was happening up there wasn't going to touch us down here?" Rig said, stretching the kinks out of neck and cracking his knuckles, already preparing himself for what was about to happen. "Guess I was wrong"

Rig looked towards the figure in the corner of the massive room, as it watched men and women scurry away like the cockroaches they were. If it had a visible reaction to what was going on it hide it well, with not a single emotion visible on its porcelain like features. Rig smirked to himself, His father sent him with his prized prototype as extra insurance, a trump card in case everything else he planned for failed. Either that or field exercise for it to work out whatever kinks the new systems still had, whatever the reason he was most certainly going to use it to its fullest potential.

"Phase four..." Rig said, taking some pleasure at causing a visible reaction from the almost doll like creature in front of him. She turned and stared at him, looking more like a frightened field mouse then the perfect killing machine she was.

"It's time to go to work"


-Streets of Tairon 3:00 AM-

Total silence was a difficult thing to accomplish. Even in the most remote places on earth, miles away from human society, one could still hear the faint sounds of the wind blowing, of birds chirping, of grass rustling from the faintest movements of animals. For all Hayate knew these sounds were still happening around him, yet he stood unaware of the world around him as he took in the sight of the city.

When one seeks complete silence, one doesn't expect to find it in a capital city with a population that numbered in the hundreds of thousands, but that's where Hayate and Ryu found themselves. The city was quiet, almost eerily so, as the two-shinobi stood shoulder to shoulder atop one of the many high rise building that littered the ancient city, a city which was in the center of a massive military operation, and a city which according to Helena was hiding something that Victor Donovan would be willing to start a civil war over to get his hands on.

Hundreds of thousands of lives have already been taken, how many more will have to be taken before this is all over?

"What are we looking at Ryu?" Hayate said to his best friend, as he surveyed the city below him. He had never been to Tarion before, but even so he knew something was wrong, a presence engulfing the city that set every one of his survival instincts on edge. Feeling more akin to a rabbit in a wolfs den than a man in a city.

"Something that is terribly wrong" his stoic friend spoke with the utmost seriousness, in a way that made Hayate know that his friend shared the same thoughts as him.

Five years ago, Ryu last entered The Vigoor capital in an attempt to avenge the destruction and betrayal of The Hayabusa ninja clan by his master as well as his own uncle, Murai of the shadow ninja clan. Ryu rarely spoke of his time in the city, but from the look on his face now, Hayate very much doubted he was happy to return. But still, knowing the lay of the land would be important for the mission to come, and weather he would like to admit or not Hayate felt they needed every advantage they could get if they hoped to survive whatever force was plaguing the city.

"Fiends?" Hayate asked, knowing full well of the empires bloody history as well as what he could gather from the tales his younger half-sister, Ayane, would tell him of her time assisting Ryu in his mission all those years ago. The tales of Ryu's exploits fighting the greater fiends that infested the ancient catacombs and temples of the city before them were always a favorite topic of discussion with the purple haired kunoichi, but even so, not even she seemed willing to share about all that had happened.

"No" Ryu answered, sounding as unsure as Hayate felt about the strange aura in the city "It's something different, Something I've never experienced before."

The fact that Ryu Hayabusa, the master of the dragon sword and slayer of fiends, sounded nervous, made Hayate more on edge then he would like to admit. Ryu and he had always been rivals, but Hayate would be the first to admit, that in the way of combat, Ryu was in a league all of his own. To hear the apprehension in his voice as he spoke sent a chill down the Mugen Tenshin clan leaders spine.

"You're not afraid, are you?" Ryu spoke, in a challenging tone, the same tone he would use when they were children to trick him into doing something he didn't want to do. Like when Ryu suggested that only the bravest ninja would be willing to train with swords blindfolded when they were seven, or when they were ten, When Ryu tricked Hayate into breaking into the Kunoichi only bath house. Something he believed he would never quite live down no matter how long ago it was.

So Hayate, the 18th clan leader of the Mugen Tenshin ninja clan, reacted in a way befitting a man of his respected station.

"I'll be too busy making sure you stay alive to be afraid Hayabusa, but don't worry," He turned towards the dragon ninja," If it gets too much for you, I'll be there to protect you."

But before the two ninjas could jump into action, they both felt a presence behind them. A presence that felt oddly familiar to at least one of them. They both turned around, their hands already gripping their swords just in case they had to use them. But instead of staring down an enemy they found themselves staring down a potential ally.

The woman was beautiful, Statuesque and tall. Nearly as tall as both he and Ryu with the studded leather boots she wore. Her long blond hair held in a loose ponytail and her pale skin contrasted the tight black leather battle suit that did little to her buxom and muscular figure. But it was the massive war hammer she wielded one handed that made hayate take notice. Nearly five feet long from top to bottom, the thick ebony shaft and massive steel and obsidian head promised both toughness and power, as well as a swift death to anyone the hammer connected with.

"Racheal" Ryu spoke, surprise evident in his voice at the sight of the young woman.

"I knew we'd run into one another one day Ryu, but I didn't think it would be in this same city,"

"I'm surprised you would willingly return after everything that has happened," Ryu said vaguely. Barley hinting at the past he shared with the mysterious new comer, further heightening Hayates curiosity.

"Normally I wouldn't, this city holds nothing but ill memories for me, but something has drawn me here this night." Turning her great hammer over in her hands as she spoke, as if caught in a rather unpleasant train of thought, before focusing her attention back onto them "A fire in my blood that drives me here"

"I see, so you too have been drawn back here," Ryu spoke, in a tone of voice whenever he spoke of the more mystical aspects of his martial training, as if this moment was destined to have happened the way it was unfolding. It seemed the woman in front of him, whatever her relationship with the super ninja, believed just as strongly as Ryu about the strange events.

"Yes." The young woman said as she walked closer to the two shinobi, her massive war hammer swaying back and forth with each step she took. "The blood in the air is almost palpable if one knows how to sense it. An unspeakable force is about to be brought onto this world and I fear we may already be too late to stop it"

Hayate never saw himself as a superstitious person, despite all the things he's seen and experienced in his life. He considered himself as logical and rational as any sane person could be despite seeing, to put it frankly, out of this world events surrounding his life. Those however, hadn't done much to erode his natural skepticism about all things super natural. If a demon walked the streets, he'd have to see the demon first hand before putting any credence in its claim. Why assume a demon, when humans can be just as savage in their nature?

Despite his companions more serious and stoic faced, Ryu had always been more open to the idea of things human beings couldn't explain logically, Hayate filed that under the strange adventures Ryu found himself partaking in several years prior.

But even so, seeing the utmost seriousness and apprehension on his friends face as well as Ryu's old friend, caused Hayate to push that same skepticism out of his mind. Whatever was happening, Hayate felt Victor Donovan played a part, and that was enough for him. If this was in fact a fiend, or some form of demon as both Ryu and this Racheal Woman fear, then someone or something must be controlling them. Could Victor Donovan be in league with demons? He wouldn't put it past the man, as he truly was capable of such depravity to fit his needs, it just seemed to convoluted to make much sense.

If this demon worked for, or was in some way controlled by Victor Donovan, then why was it here attacking the men in Donovan's employ? Why had none of the bodies through the city streets been that of civilians? But the question that raised the most concerns were, if this...thing wasn't being controlled by Donovan, then who else was invested with the strange discovery Helena mentioned. What discovery would require this level of carnage to achieve? These questions as well as many more swirled inside his head as he tried in vain to understand the mindset of his enemies.

Knowing ones enemy, was the first lesson of war taught to him as a child.

Knowing your allies was the second.

"Whatever the case," Hayate spoke, breaking the silence between the three of them, " it would be good to have another capable fighter with us,"

Ryu, for his part looked somewhat surprise at the statement and Hayate didn't blame him. Since childhood, the distrust of outsiders had been engraved into him. The desire to keep his clan and their secrets hidden from the outside world was of the most importance. Many have been exiled or even killed for less. And as clan leader, it was his responsibility to protect his clans way of life.

But I am the clan leader now. Hayate thought to himself. We have become slaves to the past for too long

Racheal for her part seemed somewhat skeptical and Hayate could find fault in her reasoning. She was clearly used to working alone, and despite having a common ally in Ryu, she and Hayate knew next to nothing about one another. She didn't seem to be the most trusting of people, ironically a trait she shared with both of the men in front of her.

"Ryu speaks highly of you, that says all I need to know about a person,"Hayate said turning his attention away from her to look at his longtime friend "Ryu was never the type of man to throw praise where he doesn't think deserves it."

If this was any other time, Hayate wouldn't let an outsider into the business of his clan, not Helena, nor this Racheal. But Victor Donovan had an incredible talent of bringing together people in their mutual hatred of him, and if this strange feeling in his gut was any indication to the storm that seemed to be on the horizon, then the Mugen Tenshin will need all the support it can get to survive.


-One Mile Below Tairon 3:00 AM-

The Hallways were as empty as Cortana had said, whoever had found themselves still in the facility after the fighting, must have found hiding the smartest thing they could do with a half-ton Spartan bearing down on them. It wasn't as if they were in actual danger however. UNSC protocol clearly states, that the men and women who were not a direct threat to him or his mission were to be treated as civilians, despite whatever relationship they may or may not have held with Victor Donovan.

He would only kill when he had to

"Well," Cortana said, breaking the silence, as she always did when they were alone, "This is certainly a new experience, last few times we had to traverse though a Forerunner Facility, we were killing Flood left and right. This? Just leisurely walking through a hallway, and not have anything to do with the flood? A girl can get used to luxury like this."

"That's what happens when we deal with the problems outside before we try to take control of an enemy base, there is less of a chance for reinforcements to come."

"I get, you were right and I was wrong, the next time I have a second to myself, I'll mark it down as one of the few good ideas you've had that I didn't come up with first."

"Wow, a If I didn't know you better I would think you're trying to butter me up for something."

"Trust me, if you didn't know me better, you would have been dead a long time ago, not even that legendary luck of yours could save you from all the trouble you find yourself in"

The chief continued to walk, not able to shack the feeling of being watched, despite what his scanners reported. Cortana for her part, agreed that something was off about the facility but she kept her opinions to what it was to herself, at least for now. But with step they came closer to the origin of the forerunner signal, and if all the other instances of his dealing with similar facilities was an indication, John had to be prepared for anything.

What he wasn't prepared for, was something purposely blocking his path.

The gate was large and imposing, as tall and as wide as the tunnel they walked through, with steel plating several inches thick at some parts. But while this may have caused most people to pause, the Master Chief didn't lose a step. For him it didn't matter whether he would have to tear it off its hinges or not, he was going to get through that door. What did surprise him though was the figure visible through the transparent panel of what had to be bullet proof glass, staring at him as if he was waiting for the chief to arrive.

The man was tall by civilian standards and well built, with a wide frame that spoke of physical training beyond the scope of your average person. His short buzz cut made John believe he was a soldier of some sort but the man's general lack of discipline in both his attitude and the way he carried himself made him disregard the thought. Whoever this man was however, he wasn't a scientist, not from the way he was dressed and certainly not from the deranged look in his eyes, one that promised unrestrained violence for those who crossed him.

"He looks like a real winner" Cortana spoke, sarcasm dripping off every word as her visual image appeared in his hub with her eye brow raised as she appraised the young man before her and finding him lacking. "He's looking at you like one of the tortured animals he keeps in a shed"

"So, you're the big bad bogeyman that's been killing all my men," The man said, the tone of his voice reminding both Cortona and the master chief of Colonel James Ackerson the more he talked. "And here I thought my day was going to be boring."

The chief walked quickly towards the man until he was less than a foot away from him, noticing the smug look on the man's face didn't seem to change, despite being forced to look upwards at the much taller Spartan.

"You're in Charge?" It wasn't a question but a statement of fact. The chief had met dozens of men like this in the past, men forced up the chain of command due to knowing the right people, it seemed no matter the time period the world still seemed to work just about the same.

"You can say that," the man said, stretching his neck and causing an audible popping sound," The names Rig, but you can call me the last man you'll ever see alive."

"Be careful chief," The AI said, shaking her head in complete bewilderment at the man's attitude, knowing full well what happened to those who took any spartan lightly in battle, let alone Her spartan. "He might break his hand on your helmet, that'll show you."

The chief examined the gate before him, similar in both design and function to a vault door, keeping whoever wants to get in out, and keeping whatever they may want in. Inches of solid steel plating made getting through the door difficult for most, but for him, it wouldn't take too much effort, a few pushes in certain spots would crumble it like cardboard.

"Unless you want to hack the security systems?" The Spartan asked his companion. Surprisingly, however, instead of a sarcasm-laden remark like he came to expect of his longtime AI, she instead gave him a dire warning.

"Chief behind you!" Cortona voice was loud with surprise as his HUB suddenly blazed to life as a figure appeared behind him as if out of nowhere. A pulse of what looked almost like from a covenant plasma rifle shot towards him, impacting where he stood a split second before he moved.

The chief rolled to the side, brandishing his assault rifle and taking aim. There, standing where he was just a moment ago was a figure shrouded in a black hood, her hand slicing the air like a knife. The man, Rig, was still smirking at him from behind the shatterproof window, like a patron at a zoo.

"Well, well, well' The man chuckled towards John, seemingly taking no notice at the assault rifle aimed in his general direction," Looks like you're faster than you look. Hell, this might actually be interesting to watch. It's been so long since this thing has had a decent workout.

It... She was small and young, as young as the girl he had saved from the alleyway several hours prior, she barely looked over five feet tall if that, slender and lean, and much too young to be as comfortable as she seemed to be in a battleground.

The tattered black cloak she wore covered most of her body, only her hands and the lower part of her face was visible, her lips trembled, not in fear, nothing about the young woman in front of him made John feel like she was afraid. But it was the brief glimpse of her eyes that surprised him the most. They were large and sparkled, but held a look of absolute horror and apprehension, not towards him but towards herself and what she was going to do.

Out of everything John had seen in his life, the image of this young girl, turned into a weapon chilled him to his core.

"John" Cortana spoke in utmost seriousness, the tone she seemed to save exclusively for the most dangerous situations. "Be careful with her, there's something weird going on with this girl."

"How do we handle that teleportation?"

That strange energy has a unique energy signature," the AI answered, "Every time she reappears, that energy surges for a split second. Your HUD can detect where she is going to be before she actually appears, it's not much of a window, but I figure you can handle it" The AI said, before adding "Or I don't know, ask her to step aside, you never know she might listen"

"You think that would work?

"No, but hey, it's worth a shot, you've always had a weird effect on the females of the species."

John didn't understand exactly what the AI was implying, but he had to admit it was worth a shot. potentially killing an unarmed combatant was far down the list of things he was comfortable doing for a mission, especially one so young.

"Stand down," he barked at her, taking a step closer to the hooded figure and holstering his rifle onto his back, trying to look as unthreatening as he could. "And I won't hurt you."

If the girl heard him, she didn't make an indication of it, seemingly lost in her own internal turmoil. Whatever she was thinking at the moment, she certainly didn't enjoy it, her pain and discomfort clearly visible on her face. The complete opposite of the man behind the steel gate

"I don't want to hurt you... but I will"

The moment she spoke, she lashed out. Her aura exploded outwards with enough force to heavily dent the bulkhead behind her, which had fully sealed the two of them off from the man who identified himself as the one in charge of the operation. Waves of overpressure washed over the Spartan, but he stood fast and immediately rushed towards her.

In a flash of the same black smoke from before she vanished and reappeared behind John, but he was ready, turning his body around and catching the beings strike in an open palm, grabbing her and pulling her towards him in a grapple. She, however, disappeared once more in the black smoke before she could become trapped in the Spartans grip.

She reappeared in a flash, throwing a jumping knee towards the Spartans head, but only hitting air as her larger opponent swiftly backed away. She followed it up it with a high kick, not even waiting for her feet to touch the ground, but that too was proven useless, as the Spartan grabbed her by her ankle, effectively zapping whatever momentum her movements had and dropping her to the ground with a thud. But as before she escaped his grasped through the black cloud. She reappeared several feet away, this time in a more defensive stance as she stared at her opponent.

Now, however, instead of the remorseful look in her eyes as she stared at him, John could feel a growing sense of dread in her stare. The emotion clearly confusing the woman, as if she had never experienced it before. Even the man behind the steel barrier that separated them, seemed to have lost the smirk that seemed to have been plastered on his face but a moment ago

The chief wouldn't let her catch her bearings, he rushed her, making up the distance between them in a blink of an eye, before throwing a massive right hook towards her body, like before however the girl seemed to blink out of existence in the cloud of black smoke. She reappeared several feet away, but before she could even move, she was pushed back once again by the charging spartan. She kept moving, however, disappearing in a puff of smoke to evade whatever offense was thrown at her and reappearing. Despite all of her movement, however, the Spartan was able to keep up with her. As Cortana noted, His HUD was able to sense a surge of the strange power where ever she reappeared, the same strange power she used for her energy blasts. It was only a fraction of a second, so small the amount of time wouldn't even register to a normal person's mind. Fortunately for him, he wasn't normal.

She, however, seemed to be pushed to her utmost limits. Teleporting and reappearing almost every second to properly dodge the Spartans attacks, but she couldn't keep it up for long. Since the battle had begun in earnest, the master chief had been purely on the offensive, setting an inhuman pace and forcing his opponent to put most of her effort into evading his attacks instead of performing her own. Completely ignoring the conventional fighting techniques she used before and only using those strange biotic blasts in an attempt to create enough distance to escape.

Her best shot at winning was to keep her distance and attack with those strange blue energy blasts, a strategy John was waiting for her to start. He didn't have to wait long however. The cascades of blue energy washed over and crumpled the metal underneath his feet. It was as if someone had set off a grenade right next to him, as waves of pressure pounded against him and forced him to take a step back. There was a noticeable drain in his energy shielding and the sheer impact rattled his bones.

Enough was enough.

The Chief took two large steps forwards her and closed the distance between him and the girl, who had also been moving towards him as well. His hand shot out and seized her by her throat. He encountered a thin layer of resistance, as if the energy was being used to shield the girl from harm, but that did nothing to protect her from the unyielding gauntlet, large enough to fit around her entire neck.

As time, in his perception, was still pushed to a crawl by the chemical response that every fight felicitated from his body, he had ample time to predict and counter her response. She fought him like a trained fighter, without hesitation or restraint, whoever she was, she must have been trained from childhood to be this skilled so young. Her main problem was, she was just too slow. Even if she could teleport all around him all day long, which from the look of her haggard face and sluggish body movements, she most differently could not. But even if she could keep up her pace, he could move just as fast as she could, and he had the advantage of being able to process information and strategize faster than normal human could even understand. Using her technique, so many times and so close to one another, she couldn't waste time thinking about her next move, resorting to pure instincts and muscle memory for both her movements and attacks.

The mark of a true fighter was to train both their body and mind to the point where technique and training became almost second nature, for one's mind to send the correct message to the correct part of the body at the correct time, making fighting as natural and simple as breathing. There in lied the secret. To put it simply, a person's instincts can be exploited, if one can gauge the pattern of their movements.

He took her arm in a wrist-lock with his remaining arm when she attempted to lash out with another energy-charged punch. That stopped her assault dead cold. She jerked with her arm, but when the Chief slightly shifted his hips, bringing her joint straight to its breaking point, she ceased that as well.

The Chief wasn't attempting to choke her out, or break her bones, but she didn't seem to realize that. She grabbed his arm with her free hand and attempted to pull it off, but to no avail. Underneath her teleportation and energy blasts she still had the physical prowess of a normal human, and no matter how strong she was, he was stronger.

"It's over" The spartan said, staring down at the young woman struggling in vain against his grip, her eyes never once looking away from him as she shifted her body back and forth, trying to find an angle of escape.

"This does not end here..." Her voice was strained, but still held the same emptiness her previous statement held. With a massive burst of whatever energy, the girl had left, her body became engrossed with the same force from before, bathing her body, giving it an almost shimmering texture, like she was made entirely of the same force she used for her attacks.

The force was great, breaking the Spartans grip and sending him skidding dozens of feet backwards as wave after wave of the strange aquamarine colored energy bombarded the Mjolnir Armor.

But he kept moving onwards, step by step he got closer, the combination of his armors massive weight along with the field of power enveloping him causing the floor to buckle and crack with each step. From the looks of it, the woman did not fully understand what was happening herself. Her eyes widened when she saw him take her hits and advance in spite of it. His armor and shielding were not immune to the strange blast, not fully anyway, but John managed to overpower the strange energy field through pure strength, a fact that seemed to confuse the girl more than her inability to out maneuver him. Her eyes opened wide, as if she fully didn't comprehend what was happening, like the idea of anything being able to withstand her power was impossible for her to fathom. When he took a large step torwards her and was only a few inches away from her, the spartan pretended to throw a powerful left hook at her face, she leant backwards to avoid his gauntlet-

-allowing him to cease her arm, cutting off the pulse of energy with a powerful squeeze of his hand. John dove underneath her and pined her trapped arm behind her back. Then, he pulled her towards him in one swift motion and slammed her to the ground like a rag doll, hard enough to dent the metal flooring.

She didn't get back up again.

As the girl lost consciousness, that strange aura that surrounded her vanished. Her skin lost the strange texture and color, and the strange force that whipped her cloak seemed to dissipate, and for the first time both John and his AI companion could see the girls entire face.

The long red hair was a surprise, mainly because he had never seen such a shade of red on a person before. But it was her closed eyes that the chief noticed first. Was she...?

"The girls alive." Cortana said reading out the girl's vitals, answering the chiefs un asked question before he could ask it." She won't be up for a while, but she's alive."

"Good" the chief spoke simply, kneeling down to check the girls pulse just in case Cortana was wrong, despite the fact that she ever was, or so she would tell him. Once he was satisfied he stood up, already steeling himself after his moment of concern towards the young woman who tried to kill him but a moment ago.

He turned towards the man called Rig fully intent to Finish whatever game he was trying to play.

"The look on his face," Cortana spoke into his head set, reveling in the complete 180-degree change in the man's general attitude from only minutes before." Is priceless"

Closing on the massive containment door, John paused, stopping in front of it. It was said by many of the UNSC high leadership that one of best wartime assets the ground forces had was the Spartan-IIs fearsome reputation. How just the sight of a Spartan terrified most Covenant forces into ineffective stupidity. He wondered if it would be best to follow that example now, make someone close to Donovan grow to fear the very sight of him. Placing his hand on the door, he lightly pushed it, causing it to rattle. With the sound of metal whining from the force of the push filling the cavern, John pushed a bit harder, and he could hear the sound of the door's hydraulics break from the strain. The sight of the man called Rig, backing away from the door, knowing full well of the danger that was literally knocking at his door but still being too shocked to run, was almost enough for Cortana to laugh herself into a fit.

With one last thump, the doors flew off their hinges, clattering to the floor, revealing the Master Chief behind it.

"Rig. I'd like a word with you."