[Master Chief Petty Officer/Sierra-117/John]
[20th of September, 2528]
[Beacon Academy]
It started out as a normal day for John. Well, as normal as it can be when on an alien yet not alien planet consisting of super powered humans and another species called Faunus that fight off the very forces of darkness. So, not normal, but as normal as possible. He woke up, ate a quick breakfast (Beacon's food was the best he's ever had, although his experiences were extremely limited to UNSC cuisine and military rations), then decided to walk around the campus.
There, he found the few people he's become acquainted with, Ruby Rose, Lie Ren, and Yang Xiao Long with her partner, Pyrrha Nikos. They talked for a while (mostly to him, with him returning the bare minimal comment to keep the conversation flowing) before Pyrrha took off to take care of… Something. He didn't listen to that, he was too focused on Ruby's ecstatic chatter about his armor. But, that's where things went downhill…
Chief sighed deeply, the breath fogging up his visor ever so slightly, as he regarded his current predicament. Two girls, one tall and blonde while the other is short and redheaded, were practically at each other's throats for… Multiple reasons, apparently. All he could get from their incessant yelling was something about moms, leaving, and drunk uncles.
They've been doing it for the better part of the hour and it's only gotten more and more violent as time went on. Their voices raised, their muscles tensed, and their aura pouring out of their bodies in such quantities it was making John's instincts scream at him to act.
Yeah, he wasn't exactly having the time of his life currently. He never had to deal with family problems, so he was standing awkwardly to the side with Ren. Probably the only person he's met here who isn't insane, manipulative, or moody. For that, they got along well. Both quiet, mature males, who were more than content with standing off to the side while people dealt with their own problems, unless the situation called for their intervention.
Sadly, it looked like their intervention was exactly what this situation called for. Both men sighed and looked at each other, and, with another deep, resigned sigh, nodded to each other. "I get Yang, you get Ruby." Ren nodded and headed towards his partner while John stepped towards the fiery blonde.
He's heard of the girl's superhuman strength from Ruby, but he was positive he could hold her back thanks to his MJOLNIR armor. So, with confidence gained only from combat, he laid a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back, not noticing the strands of hair between his fingers from the action.
Only for his wrist to be grasped in a very powerful grip. John licked his suddenly dry lips but stood his ground, glaring into the young woman's red eyes with matching ferocity. He tightened his grip on her shoulder, his fingers digging pressing into her brown jacket. "Calm down. Whatever issue you two have can be settled without fighting." The brawler's glare intensified as she looked at his hand, her aura spiking up a notch with flames licking his armor plating. He grunted in annoyance and tightened his grip as she did the same on his wrist.
"I said, calm. Down." The only response he got was a shotgun blast to the chest combined with a punch, causing him to fly back into the wall of the academy. He groaned quietly and shook his head with a sigh. So, it's coming down to a fight anyways, huh? "Fine…" He stood up to his full height and stared down the clearly infuriated blonde. "Want to fight? Take it to the training area. I won't be held responsible for any damages caused to the building out here." Best to just let them fight it out, he supposed. No way was he going to fight her over something this petty.
He would be getting her back for damaging UNSC property though… This dent was going to be Hell to fix. Yang scoffed and glared even harder at him, causing him to raise an eyebrow. What did he do to get that reaction? He grunted and returned the glare with the intent to placate her or at least intimidate her enough to back off.
It didn't work. She growled and began walking - stomping was more appropriate, really - while fire spouted around her. Chief growled under his breath and reached for his assault rifle, only to grasp nothing. He looked back and growled quietly as he noticed it sticking into the wall behind him. He grunted in irritation as he reached for it, only to roll back quickly to avoid the fist of an angry blonde woman.
John didn't know what was up with this planet and angry blonde women, but he sure as hell was tired of it. He leaned back to avoid the follow-up and sighed in irritation before throwing a jab of his own towards her stomach. She batted his strike away, but was unable to do the same with his low kick. It connected, causing her to stumble and fall. John rolled away once again and stood up, grunting in irritation. "Stop right now, or I will take you down. No promises that it won't end without a few broken bones on your part."
"Shut up!" She yelled out, throwing punch after punch at the SPARTAN. He tried blocking and dodging as best he could, but he couldn't avoid all of them. He grunted with each hit that connected, internally wincing at the girl's strength. Sure, Ruby said she was strong, but damn. This girl wasn't even human! Her strength rivalled a Hunters', just more precise. Meaning this fight was not going to end well for one of them.
He scowled beneath his visor and grabbed the next fist she threw before slamming his head against hers, then proceeding to throw her into the ground in her dazed state. He tried pinning her down, but, apparently, she wasn't going to take it lying down. She put her feet on his already dented chestplate and gave a mighty push, forcing the Master Chief to fly back a few meters.
He grunted as he landed and stared at the furious blonde incredulously. Seriously, how strong was this girl? There's no way could someone kick half a ton off their body and cause it to fly as far as he did. Well, except for SPARTANs, but they'd have to be in their armor to cause it to fly! He took a deep, calming breath as he scanned the surrounding area. If only he could get his assault rifle, then he could keep her back…
He leaned his body back just enough to avoid what would have been a very painful punch, but couldn't move in time to avoid the girl's other fist. It slammed into the side of his helmet, causing a crack to appear in his visor. "... You're damaging UNSC property. That's more than enough reason for me to restrain you and take you to jai-" He was cut off as Yang fired another shell at his chest, causing him to stumble backwards with a pained grunt. What the fuck was wrong with this girl?!
Chief, deciding enough was enough, launched a quick feint towards her face. Thankfully, she fell for it and went to intercept it, leaving her abdomen wide open for a roundhouse kick, which the SPARTAN delivered swiftly. He felt a sense of satisfaction at the contact as he saw her double over with a grunt of her own, before driving his other knee up into her face. He tried following up with a quick jab at her chest, however she recovered quick enough to block the strike. The glared at each other, one's red eyes glowing with fiery fury while the other's visor displaying cold contempt.
They were so focused on one another, they didn't even notice the two members of BRRJ leave the courtyard quickly (one very, very reluctantly, yelling out about how she 'wanted to see Chief's armor in a fight').
John sent a kick towards Yang's right side, whereas she sent a hard punch towards his left shoulder. Both hits connected, and both hits hurt. Neither were holding back anymore. Yang let go because she was pissed, whereas John let go because he wanted to end this as quickly as possible.
Sadly for the SPARTAN, Yang's aura and Semblance enhanced strength beat his own augmented power. With a mighty roar, the blonde haired fighter reached and grabbed the fist he was about to throw before flinging him across the courtyard. He flew at speeds he'd never imagined from someone's throw, shocking him just enough for him to be unable to land properly. Dust flew into the air as he landed with a loud 'thud', the ground shaking from the heavy weight practically slammed into it.
Shakily, John staggered up from the small crater formed from the impact, too dazed to avoid the punch thrown at him from the livid girl. His head snapped to the side, his visor once again cracking from the force of the hit. He groaned and shook his head, fighting off the new wave of nausea that threatened to explode from his stomach. He put his training to work and dodged the next punch she threw. He ducked under it, put his fists close to his chest, and threw a feint at her stomach.
He smirked slightly when she went to dodge it, and quickly threw his other fist at her unprotected face. His armored knuckles hit with a satisfying crack before he threw another one with the same hand. He managed two more hits before Yang's senses came back and she rolled out of the way. Blood spilled down from her nose, said nose bending in an unnatural direction. The soldier bounced foot to foot, his posture that of a boxer's. He took a little pride in breaking the nose of someone whose aura was still up, but didn't tell the pride take over. This girl seemed to get stronger after every hit, after all, so for all he knew, he just empowered her to do the same to him.
He was kind of regretting not just hitting a couple pressure points to knock her out now. With a grimace he slowly opened his hands, palms facing the girl. "How about we stop this before it gets more messy? I'm pretty sure a professor is one their way here now as we speak, so it would be be-" He was cut off (again) by a punch towards his head. His head tilted to the side instinctively, the fist barely grazing the damaged helmet. Even though it barely touched it, his visor cracked even more, causing his mouth to suddenly go dry.
… She was pissed. Maybe breaking her nose wasn't the smartest idea he's even made. He dashed back, keeping his eyes on his opponent all the while. Her hair was aflame, her eyes an intimidating shade of red, and her mouth pulled into a snarl. All in all, with the blood on her face and the low growl emitting from her, she looked like the very definition of deadly. Another grimace came to John's face as he realized his predicament. They weren't getting out of this without some serious injuries, were they? He sighed, weighing his options. More than likely, he could outrun her, but… Well, he wasn't a prideful person, but SPARTANs never ran. It was against their very beings. So that left either letting her beat the shit out of him or him beating the shit out of her. Or both.
He wasn't a fan of any option, really, especially since this was the most pointless fight he's ever been in. Yang ran towards him, her expression the very epitome of furious, with her fist cocked back. He got into a defensive position, his feet digging a few inches into the dirt with his arms ready to either catch or block the oncoming strike. Her fist lashed out, as did his hand, and they connected with a resounding 'bang'. The strike completely ruined his gauntlet, the metal breaking off into tiny pieces while some chunks dug into his flesh painfully. The superheated metal started cooking the flesh on his hand, and he wasn't the only one. The titanium seemed to have dug into Yang's arm as well, if the red marks on her arm were anything to go by.
That, however was the least of their concerns, as a cold, feminine voice spoke from the other side of the courtyard, her voice slicing through their mutual anger like a high powered laser through ice. "What on Remnant is going on here?!"
Most people know that if you put an immovable object in front of an unstoppable force you'll get complete and utter destruction. From this paradox, whole planets are obliterated. Entire stars wiped out like they were simple candle flames. Galaxies flickered out like a city from a blackout. Entire universes, gone in an instant from the infinite energy released from the infinitely powerful collision.
The scene in front of Glynda wasn't very different, much to her chagrin. Holes littered the courtyard and school walls, the fountain was nothing more than rubble, and the grass and gardens in the area were all, well, gone. Replaced by dirt. Hell, she was certain even the dirt was ground up a few times and was nothing more than a bunch of brown colored sand now.
The most noticeable part, however, is the two culprits standing in the center of it all. The 5'8" blonde huntress-in-training, Yang Xiao Long, was in a grapple with the 7'2" soldier, Sierra-117. Her anger spiked at seeing the two, and she stomped her way over there, a deadly scowl having formed on her face. She passed right through the crowd that had gathered to watch the fight, the students making way for her like she was the Creator himself.
Upon reaching the center edge of the crowd, she spoke up, her voice silencing every sound, be it human, bird, or action, in the vicinity. "What on Remnant is going on here?!" She noticed both fighters stop their power struggle, both postures giving away the fact they heard her voice. She stomped her way across the battlefield - courtyard, she reminded herself - with her livid stomps being the only sound made. She saw Xiao Long's eyes wide and purple in fear, with 117's back straightening out in what she would assume is military instinct for the boy. She growled as she neared them, her knuckles white as she clenched her riding crop as tight as she could without snapping it. It was a very strong riding crop, to say the least.
They let go of each other's hand and faced her. One with his eyes forward and back straight, and the other copying him as best she could (it was actually pretty good, Glynda would admit to herself is she wasn't so furious). She glared at both of them with green slitted eyes, her teeth grinding against each other. "Why I… The audacity you two have for fighting in front of Beacon is outrageous! You!" She pointed to Xiao Long, the girl jumping a little while yelping in fear. "Have you no shame for fighting one of Beacon's guests?!"
"B-But he-" The younger blonde tried to defend herself, only to be cut off by the angry glare of Glynda.
"No buts! And you!" She pointed to Sierra-117, who responded only by somehow straightening his back even more. Any more of that, and he might bend over backwards… "You are a guest here! You don't just fight the students without permission from a professor or the headmaster! You're lucky Ozpin needs you, otherwise I would kick you out of this campus!" The soldier didn't react in any way, his back straight with his face facing forward. She wished she could see his face through that cracked visor of his; maybe get a clue as to what he's thinking. With a heavy and irritated sigh, the deputy headmistress gave the two one last glare. "Go to Ozpin's office. He'll punish you accordingly."
With that, she turned around, and strolled away, her hand still gripping her riding crop tightly.
Yang frowned as she trailed behind the not-so-jolly green giant, her previous grudge being long forgotten. With the anger gone, all she felt was guilt and irritation. Guilt for starting a fight over something so petty, and irritation that the soldier won't even look at her. Did he really hate her that much? The blonde teen let out a sigh and scratched the back of her neck, her lips quirking up. "Hey, 117... " She drawled out, waiting for him to pay attention to her.
After receiving a grunt, she perked up a little and jogged up next to him. She looked up to his cracked visor and fiddled with her thumbs in anxiety. "I just wanted to say, uh…" She sighed through her nose, causing her to wince in pain. Crap, she forgot about her broken nose… "Ow." She rubbed the area around it gingerly before shaking her head, looking over at the tall teen beside her, only to see her cracked reflection in his visor. She blinked and raised an eyebrow, noticing that he got closer than before.
"... Is your nose alright?" To anyone listening in, his voice gave away nothing, but she was certain it held a tiny shred of regret in it. Perks of fighting with someone, she supposed. She gave a shrug and a nervous laugh, waving off his concerns.
"This? It's nothin'! I had worse from my dad, really." She chuckled again, but her comment only seemed to worry the soldier more. Her chuckle died in her throat, leaving them in an awkward silence.
He let out a sigh, shaking his head. She could have sworn he said something about "this world" and "strange", but it was too quiet for her to be certain. "Sorry for breaking it." Yang gaped at the man, her mouth and eyes open wide in disbelief.
"You're sorry?! I'm the one who should be sorry! I… Kinda destroyed millions of credits of armor, and almost burned your arm off…" She rubbed the back of her head, looking away from the visor. She didn't like how guilty she looked. With a sigh, she shook her head. "It was stupid of me to fight you over something like my hair. I'm sorry." Once again, the silence came back. It stretched on for a minute, then two, then five, until Yang looked back forward towards 117. He was still looking at her, but his injured hand was held up towards her. Was he just proving her point, or what? She blinked, looking up towards his mask for answers.
"This happened because I acted like a soldier to a teenager. Because I'm not capable of handling personal issues like most people can. This happened because of both of us, not just you." He put his hand down, his other, still covered hand, reaching up in its stead. He grabbed his helmet and tugged it off, the damaged equipment being placed on a magnetic strip on his thigh. Yang's eyes widened at his appearance. She had imagined an older guy or maybe even a robot, not… This. Hell, if this was any other conversation, she probably would have purred out loud.
His head, where it was once cleanly shaved, was covered in small tufts of brown hair, about a centimeter in length. He stared into her lilac eyes with his striking blue ones, his eyebrows furrowed together in just the right way to complement his eyes. She saw multiple long healed scars, probably from blades or barely missed bullets or even fists. He sported a few new bruises and a busted lip, but it only made him look more rugged. Despite herself, she still licked her lips, but he luckily didn't seem to notice or care. "So stop guilt tripping yourself. A fight like that takes two people, not just one. We're both to blame, okay?" He held out his good hand, his eyes never leaving her's much to her secret enjoyment.
Without even the slightest hesitation, she nodded and grasped his hand, grinning widely at him all the while. "Okay, 117!" He nodded in acceptance and leaned back, to her vexation. She frowned a little but didn't let it show, and instead faced forward. "To the headmaster's office then, I guess." He nodded and they both started walking, neither noticing the pair of amber eyes following them.
Cinder smirked as she walked down the hallway in the opposite direction of the Spartan and Huntress-in-training. She smoothed out the wrinkles of her Beacon student uniform as she sautered down the hall, her symbolistic glass shoes clinking quietly against the floor all the while. Her golden eyes were narrowed in self-pleasure, her entire attitude radiating satisfaction.
She now knew how to beat one of those pesky SPARTANs without having to physically beat him. She could use the blonde haired bimbo to draw him in, and force him to her side. Whether or not it worked didn't matter; She would have her - Adam's - men surround him, ready to beat him down if necessary. Even then, she was more than powerful enough with half the Fall maiden's powers.
With a quick check, she slipped into a room and smirked at the green haired teen inside. Emerald Sustrai, a little attention whore-ish in Cinder's opinion, but she got the job done nonetheless. Such as just then, with masking her presence from the SPARTAN's radar. Even though the helmet was broken, she didn't want to risk anything. So, as a reward, Cinder ran her fingers across her pet's cheek with a proud smirk. "Well done, Emerald. You never disappoint." Like that, the dark skinned girl was putty in her hands. As always. Such loyalty was admirable, and she wished everyone was like her.
They will, though. Everyone in this damn school, the damn Kingdom, the damn galaxy. Cinder had no doubt in her mind about that, her mentor beat that out of her the minute she showed such apprehension. What used to be doubt was now the absolute knowledge of her destiny.
Cinder would win this, no matter what. She was determined to do.
She had everything to gain and everything to lose, after all. Best to ensure she gained it all, after all.
Admiral Ezra Cole frowned when he saw the bane of his existence stroll in as though she owned the bridge. She very well could if she wanted, ONI adored her and wouldn't even think about not giving her what she needed. To this day, Ezra still didn't understand that. What was there to like about her? Sure, when she was younger she was strikingly beautiful, with shoulder length raven black hair and sea blue eyes that reminded him of Earth. Sure, she was the smartest human to ever grace humanity with her knowledge. And sure, she founded the project that damn well saved humanity's ass from both the Insurrection and the Covenant.
Despite all that, she was just a downright bitch. Arrogant, bossy, easy to anger, difficult to calm down, and extremely blunt. Beauty, as they say, is mostly important on the inside, and yet Catherine Halsey didn't have a shred of that beauty in her soul.
Ezra tugged at his collar and let loose a light sigh before nodding towards the opposing woman. "Evening, Catherine. To what do I owe this pleasant visit?" His tone was lighthearted, but there was an underlying tone of rancor that made his throat clench slightly. Let it never be said that Catherine Halsey was incapable of striking fear or worry into even the bravest men. Hell, this was the woman who even the mighty SPARTANs were fearful of. She may not have been a UNSC officer, but it was very true she held more sway than even some admirals.
"You know what I'm here for, Cole. I want my SPARTANs." Her clipped tone immediately squashed what little activity was going on around them. Ezra frowned and crossed his arms behind his back, his previous vivacious tone now replaced with the professionalism and staidness only an experienced admiral Like Ezra could have.
"Sorry to say, Halsey, but I don't have your SPARTANs. They've been shipped off to quell Insurrectionists on an outer rim planet, named Kepler-443j by the 22nd century Americans, but we just call it 'Residuum', for its broken moon. You'll get them back when they finish."
"And when was this?" Her face morphed into a deeper scowl, if that was even possible.
"Roughly 28 days ago. Give or take, with relativity and all that." His response got a harsher glare from the aging scientist. He shrugged back. "I don't control how long a mission takes, I just order it how and where to be done." She grunted and crossed her arms, her glare lessening ever so slightly.
"So how are they doing, then? Are they almost done?" Her question was left unanswered by Ezra's uncomfortable look. "What is it?"
"Well..." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We haven't received word ever since we sent them there. Not a single peep. We were actually planning on sending someone over there to check on them, but..."
"But what, Admiral?" He glared at her commanding tone, but didn't act upon his irritation.
"But we've spotted the Insurrection's guard dogs. The four Horsemen are surrounding the planet, ensuring no one gets in or out unless authorized." Halsey gasped, her blue eyes widening at the mention of the infamous ships. "We believe they got there a few weeks ago, shortly after we sent Blue Team there." He frowned and chewed on his bottom lip. "Death and War are staying in defensive and offensive positions, respectively, while Pestilence and Famine are facing the planet. We fear they're going to unleash Juggernauts or, God forbid, the Titans on the planet, but we don't know why. Nor does it matter, because I sent a request for reinforcements to go and destroy those monsters once and for all."
Halsey furrowed her eyebrows, in thought rather than anger, and nodded. "Very well. Then I'll request to go with you. My SPARTANs could have damaged equipment that I can repair." Cole stared at her for a few moments before nodding with a sigh. Halsey smirked and nodded once more.
He pointed to one of the guards near the sliding doors. "Show Halsey to a guest room. Any room, it doesn't matter. You're to be her personal guard at all times and help her where she needs it. Understood?" The soldier saluted with a clear 'Aye aye sir!' before following the scientist out of the room. After the doors shut the admiral's face took on a grim appearance. "Ensign Jackson, where the Hell is Captain deGreene?"
"We don't know, sir. He was last seen in the docking room, but then he just... Disappeared." A frown marred the Ensign's face. "We've reviewed the video a dozen times, and all we see is he's there one second, then there's a red light and bam, he's gone like he was never there to begin with." Ezra sighed and rubbed at his forehead, his caramel eyes staring outside a window. "We've checked every inch of the ship, but we can't find him for the life of us. We also sent word around to keep an eye out for him, but no reports have made it back about his whereabouts."
"I see. Very well." Ezra sighed once again and crossed his arms behind his back, standing at his full height. "Patch me in to command. I need those reinforcements immediately so we can go save those SPARTANs before they're wiped out by Pestilence's Titans." The sound of Jackson's fingers touching the holoscreen sounded before the order was even finished being given. It made the admiral smirk, despite the situation. He felt damn lucky to have the finest spacemen and women aboard his vessel. Never once have they disappointed him.
He liked to think he hasn't disappointed them either, and he was motivated to never disappoint them. Especially not now. "Lieutenant Stonewall," said lieutenant looked over at him, "I need you, the ships emergency AI Lilith, and a few others of your choice to come up with a strategy on how to combat the Horsemen." Stonewall was a strategic genius, after all. Why she refused to be a higher rank was beyond him, but he was grateful she was on his ship serving with him. "Make sure its as bloody as possible on their side." He gave her a quick wink and grin, which she excitedly returned before heading off to do whatever it is brainiacs like her do.
"Sir, ONI is requesting a private server. Orders?" He nodded towards the dark skinned Ensign. "Connecting... Now." The lights immediately dimmed as four screens appeared on the window in front. Ezra stood at ease in front of it, his face betraying none of his thoughts.
"Admiral Cole, what is it you need?" A distorted voice said. Ezra mentally frowned, these people always had to be so secretive. The black figures on the screen, the distorted voices to ensure no one knew their genders, and numbers for names to seal the deal.
"I requested reinforces roughly a week ago and have received no word back. I was wondering if-"
"Request denied." The interruption was so abrupt it stopped the admiral in his tracks. His face showed surprise for a split second before going back to its neutral state, albeit with a slight scowl and frown.
"I'm sorry, but we can't take on the four Horsemen by ourselves-"
"You won't need to. You aren't going to Residuum. The Insurrection isn't our main concern right now, the Covenant is." His scowl deepened. He didn't care to disguise his displeasure anymore.
"There are four invaluable SPARTANs on that planet, sir. We must retrieve them before they get captured or killed." He held back a sigh of relief. It's about time they let him finish what he wanted to say.
"Request denied. Those SPARTANs aren't our priority right now, the Covenant is."
"You're kidding me. Without the SPARTANs, we don't have a chance against the Covenant!" Raising one's voice against ONI typically ended in very bad things happening, but Ezra was getting angrier and angrier with these fools. "Just send me a few battleships and we'll defeat the Horsemen and get back those men and women!"
"Request denied, Admiral. You want to save those SPARTANs so bad? Very well. But you will not be using any extra UNSC resources that are better off being used against a real issue. You may use your fleet and only your fleet. Any requests for extra resources will be denied. End conversation." The screen went blank and the lights brightened, but Ezra didn't notice. He was too busy glaring at where the four ONI representatives were. Those bastards!
"Orders, sir?" Jackson asked after a long silence stretched on. Ezra sighed and rubbed his temple gingerly. Honestly, damn headaches. He looked around and saw every crew member looking at him, holding the ultimate decision in his hands. He frowned, his stance relaxing until his arms laid by his sides. He looked at Jackson, to Winchester, to Huang, to Mikhailov, and at every other person in the room.
"..." He set his jaw firmly, his eyes hardening as he saw the resolve in every one of them. Pride swelled up in his gut and, with a deep breath, nodded towards Jackson. "Set a course for Kepler-443j. We will save those SPARTANs, we will destroy those damn ships, and we will shove a great big pole up ONI's ass when we do." He let a small smile form on his slightly wrinkled face as he heard a chorus of 'Hooyah!' from every present person. He nodded, his smile not leaving his face. "Thank you, all of you. If you don't want to take on this mission, you can leave now. I won't blame you, and neither will anyone else. This could very well end in disaster, and I understand wanting to live to fight another day." He waited for a few moments, waiting for someone to leave, but was pleasantly unsurprised to find no one moved an inch. "Then set course, Ensign. It's time we go save our savior's asses." With one last shout of 'Hooyah!' everyone got back to their stations, completely motivated to shove one up ONI's.
Admiral Ezra Cole walked off the bridge with a small, but proud, smile on his face. Logic told him this mission would likely end in his death, but his gut - and his men - told him otherwise. He knew without a doubt they'd make it through.
Fleet Admiral Isabelle Montez smirked as she stared out the port of her impressive ship, 'War'. One of the four Horsemen and her personal favorite, she made sure it was the most powerful ship in existence. She had even tested it out against the Covenant, and was pleased to see it annihilate them to nothing more than ashes. Outfitted with extremely high tech hard light cannons, used by an ancient species called 'Forerunners', it can tear through energy shields as though it were paper.
Of course, with her ship being an astonishing 36 kilometers long, it made sense as to the astounding power it holds. A smirk graced her lips as she thought about it. Not only was there a single ship of this power, but four. Of course, War was technically the strongest, but only because it was designed to dish out so much damage that it gave Pestilence and Famine their chance to destroy the enemy on the ground. Death was designed for large scale destruction, meaning She could wipe out entire fleets but lacked the ability to fight One on One properly. Of course, She could, as could all others, but they weren't as good at it as War.
War was best at fighting. Period. Death was best at annihilation. Pestilence was best at destroying ground forces via orbital biodegradation. Famine was best at absolutely destroying planets.
Each ship was 20-40 kilos long, and could take on fleets of UNSC ships alone. Of course, this stirred up confusion with the monkeys at ONI. 'How did they get these ships?' 'When did the Insurrection become so advanced?' And other answerless questions.
Answerless to them, at least. Montez knew entirely how. In fact, her source laid on the planet below them, hidden in the continent shaped like a dragon of old. Salem, as she went by. An ancient being, predating even the Forerunner, with more power than even these ships. Montez has only met her once, and the very presence of the pale being brought out primal, instinctual fear into her. It was... Eye opening, to say the least. She was a simple bug - no, germ, in the large scale of things. Immeasurable on the scale of power. A simple human with no outstanding abilities, not even aura or a semblance.
Originally, at least. She granted her these abilities and gave her power unlike any before her. Aura, a defensive and offensive ability that came from the consciousness, could be used to defend against any physical attack. It could also be used to enhance one's weapons, allowing them to do more damage. In essence, it created a field around one's body. Similar to water, in a way, as gentle prods like pokes or pats could easily bypass aura. But harder touches, like punches or kicks, would be protected against. Think of it in a way of a pool. You can step in and you'd go in easily. But if you fell from great heights, you might as well be landing on solid rock or metal.
But semblances, those were the true treat. A representation of one's very being, they could range from super speed to telekinesis, from illusions to conjuring fire, and even, in very rare cases, the ability to heal near fatal wounds. Everyone had one, but not everyone had it unlocked. In this case, 99% of humanity didn't have it unlocked, nor did they even know it existed. Trillions of humans, and only a fraction was aware of it. And only a fraction of that had it.
It was depressing, but it made having it all the sweeter. Montez wanted all of the Insurrection to have it, but Salem forbade it, saying it would lead to their downfall. Reluctantly, she agreed, but only when she offered her even more power.
Hence, the Four Horsemen.
She sighed in bliss as she rubbed the metallic hull of her beloved ship, her brown eyes having the look of pure ecstasy.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a meek looking boy come up to her with a datapad. She frowned in his direction, causing him to flinch, and snatched the pad away with a slight smirk. She loved the fear she put into new recruits. It was just so fun. The admiral shook her head and looked down at the pad, her smirk turning into a bloodthirsty grin as she read the report.
Apparently, the UNSC were on their way to retrieve their lost puppies. She chuckled lowly. 'Let them come,' she thought, 'They won't stand a chance against my ships.' She tapped on the screen a few times before setting it down, a small hologram coming up of a woman with a red dress. "Hello Cinder, I have some good news."
Holo-Cinder smirked and moved her ashen colored hair behind her ear, a fine eyebrow curling up in curiosity. "Oh? And what would that be, Isabelle?"
"The UNSC is on their way here to get their pets back. Seems they miss them." Cinder and her shared a chuckle, the half Fall Maiden's smirk growing more at the news.
"Good. Plan B will begin when they get here. You know what to do." Montez nodded, her eyes shooting up to the port in front of her.
"Of course, ma'am. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," Montez knew that, were they meeting in person, Cinder would surely be caressing her as though she were a lover. It made her shiver from the mere thought. "Oh, by the way, there's been a change in plans." Cinder's smirk became more menacing, causing Montez to raise an eyebrow of her own. "Make sure you give them a good welcoming party when they get here. I believe Famine would be an ideal host, wouldn't you agree?" The young Insurrectionist fleet admiral smirked in a very similar fashion, her brown eyes alight with excitement.
"Of course, ma'am. Famine will ensure their party is as extravagant as they deserve." With a quick bow, Montez ended the call, her expression not changing in the slightest.
She couldn't wait to see the look of defeat on those UNSC pigs' faces.
Kelly, Linda, and Fred reunited back at the meeting spot after the entire event regarding the ice cream themed midget and bowler hat man ended. Linda wasn't hurt too bad, save for the stab wound, and would be fit to continue her search after a bit of rest. In the meantime, Kelly and Fred decided to watch the city from afar for any sign of their missing leader. Kelly apparently heard something about a 'green giant' found up in something called Beacon Academy, but it that was about all she heard before she had to leave lest she be spotted.
Fred stored away this bit of info for when Linda and he went out again. He still doesn't trust Kelly's judgement with this side mission yet. Better keep her to finding the Insurrection than the Chief. Fred, although he didn't learn anything about the whereabouts of John, did find something extremely interesting before he had to go save Linda's ass.
There was a communications tower, the 'CCT' they call it, which allows for communications across 'Kingdoms' (Fred assumed that was code-names for bases). He told Kelly about it, and she volunteered to investigate further into it. Probably thought that might be where Chief is, Fred assumed.
He mentally shrugged. So long as she followed the main objective, then he was okay with it.
"Okay, here's the plan. Linda, you'll stay here. Kelly will go investigate this CCT tower thing and, if it is the cause for our shitty service, destroy it. I'll go check out the other side of town and look for some rebel presence. Understood?" Both female SPARTANs nodded. "Good. Got any charges Kelly?"
"Yep. Have enough here to blow up an entire base if needed." She patted the pack at her side, giving a thumbs up with her other hand. Fred chuckled and nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. Now shoo, the sooner you get there, the sooner we can focus on finding the Chief." He added that last bit as motivation, knowing she'd hurry the hell up.
Which she did. Fred had no doubt that he wouldn't have seen her even leave if he blinked just then. He waited for a few seconds before looking over at Linda, nodding towards her. "Go to this Beacon Academy place. From the sounds of it, Chief is there. Remember to keep you comm on, and tell me when you find him. Don't come back until you scour that entire place, got it?" Linda nodded and stood up, her body most likely protesting. Fred frowned behind his visor, but didn't make to help her. That would hurt her more than that wound.
"Good luck. And don't get into anymore fights, alright? I don't wanna swoop in to save your ass a second time." He quickly dodged a punch that would have hit his helmet with a laugh, but ended up getting pushed by the smaller SPARTAN anyway. She waved at him, as though she were swatting away a bug, before heading off towards the tall tower in the distance.
Fred blew out a sigh while looking towards the city. He didn't tell anyone, but he saw something that made him doubt that this was an Insurrectionist held planet. Two guys in white and blue armor in front of the CCT tower.
Definitely not Insurrection, UNSC, or even Covenant. Local militia, possibly, but the Insurrection never had that if he remembered correctly. They stationed their military on every planet, asteroid, and moon they colonize. So with no apparent Insurrection, it's only logical to assume this is an uncharted world with an entirely forgotten history in UNSC records.
Meaning they are, in essence, aliens. Which made absolutely no sense. Fred sighed and resisted the urge to remove his helmet and rub his head to stave off the oncoming headache. He started walking towards the city slowly, his eyes scanning the edges for any sign that his assumptions were wrong. They weren't, of course, which only made his headache hurt more. The impromptu Blue Team leader stopped just outside one of the many run down shacks that made up the city's edge. He peaked around the corner and resisted the urge to sigh at what he saw.
A group of kids, about 7 or 8, playing soccer. But that wasn't the strange part, no. It was the damn animal parts on their heads and lower backs. Dog ears, cat tails, antlers, scales, and a myriad of other attributes covered the kids, making the SPARTAN want to leave the planet then and there. He shook his head and leaned back behind the wall, his mind racing a thousand miles an hour for an answer.
No way was UNSC intel wrong, it always lacked info but it was never this wrong. So why did Captain deGreene say this was an Insurrectionist held world? Why did he send them here, anyways? The Covenant were the bigger problem. He could have easily just forced them to wash the deck with their tongues if he wanted to punish them so bad. So why here? Why this place filled with apparently innocent humans and hybrids?
Why the lies, the deceit? All these questions were left unanswered, and it only angered Fred more. He needed to find Chief so they could high tail it back to HQ and leave this damn planet. Fuck the consequences, this wasn't anything they should have to deal with.
He scowled behind his visor and, with a deep breath, stepped out from behind the building and strode down the dirt path towards the kids. He was getting answers, no matter from who. His eyes sat on one of the older hybrids, the goalie from the looks of it. The kid's blue eyes found his and blinked in surprise before widening drastically. His dog ears stood up and he bent his knees, as though ready to run at a moments notice. Fred frowned, but slowed to a stop. He idly noticed all the other kids do similar actions to the dog boy. He held his hands up in front of him, hoping they would calm down.
"I'm not here to hurt you. I just have a few questions, is that alright?" His deep voice calmed the hybrid slightly, but he was still clearly on edge. The boy spoke to another in a different language, but slowly walked towards him, making sure to stop at a good distance away. It made Fred smile, even slightly. This kid already looks like he'd make good SPARTAN material. "Hey there, what's your name?" He spoke softly, not wanting to scare the boy away.
"Mikael. Are you with Atlas?" His accent strongly reminded him of Spaniards, but he paid it no mind.
"Atlas? No, I'm with the UNSC. Are you with this Atlas?" The boy - Mikael - cocked his head slightly in a way that enhanced his dog traits exponentially.
"No. What is this UNSC?" Fred resisted the urge to chuckle. This kid was supposed to answer his questions, not vice versa.
"I'll tell you, but first you have to answer my questions, deal?" Mikael nodded, his form still not relaxing entirely. Seems this kid has had his fair share of tussles.
"Okay, I have quite a few. Do you know what the Insurrection is?" With his confused look, Fred sighed quietly. "Okay. Then, who runs this planet?" Another confused look, causing Fred to frown. Does this kid know anything politically? He wouldn't blame him if he didn't, they are in the slums after all.
"Well... Humans, I guess. They run everything, from food and water to where we live." His reply only brought up more questions than it answered.
"You say that as though you're not human." Of course he wasn't, but Fred wasn't just going to outright ask what he was. He didn't want to be marked as a racist, speciesist - whatever - and get rid of his only source for answers.
"I'm a Faunus, there's a difference." The hostility in his voice made the armored man regret not just asking bluntly. Sigh, damn Halsey for not instilling proper conversation conduct in their education.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend." He held up his hands. "One last question, then I'll answer yours. Have you seen a big man, about my height, in armor similar to mine?" Mikael shook his head with a small frown on his face.
Fred sighed, nodding in acceptance. "Okay. Well, the UNSC is short for the United Nations Space Command. It originates from Earth, which is far away from here. Another world entirely." Mikael's face morphed into one of wonderment, and his body relaxed entirely. It gave Fred a pause and made him wonder if the kid never even thought about other worlds. "It's the military that protects all of humanity - and Faunus," He added quickly. "To ensure we survive against threats like the Insurrection and Covenant." He noticed other kids gathering around, causing him to bite back a sigh. Cute, but it was a waste of his time. "I'm technically a soldier - or marine, whatever you want to call it - of the Navy part of the UNSC, which is the biggest sect. But instead of soldier or marine, we're called Spartans. Named off of warriors of old from thousands of years ago. Before us, they were historically the best warriors to have ever exist. Well, that's if you take out guns." He chuckled.
"The UNSC is a very powerful military, and when I go back to them I'll make sure to have them come here to protect all of you too. Deal?" They all nodded, grinning in excitement at the aspect of space aliens. It made Fred mentally facepalm, feeling incredibly stupid for making that promise. He shrugged it off, however, as he felt giving them fuel for their imagination was a good payment for answers. "Anyways, I need to go. I have to find my friend. Thanks for the answers, Mikael." The dog boy waved as he began walking away before going back to play a game with his friends.
As Fred walked, he noticed adult Faunus stare at him in wary and, for some, outright hatred. It made him frown under his visor. Were humans here really that bad? He shook his head. It wasn't his problem. He needed to find John, reunite with Kelly and Linda, and get the Hell off this world.
He was suddenly stopped by a few men in masks and hoods - with weapons strapped to their sides, he noticed. One had a smirk on his face as he looked the SPARTAN over. "Well well boys, is this one of Atlas' new projects? I sure hope it is, I'm looking forward to beating the fuck outta something." His companions chuckled in agreement. Fred frowned and quickly analyzed the three.
Two males and one female. The one speaking to him was built like a tank, for normal people that is. Likely to be built around brute strength. Second male seems more lithe, possible agility based style. The female was average, likely a jack of all trades in this group. Lithe man and average woman wielded simple swords, from the looks of it, but the brute in front looked like he used a strange looking hammer.
Fred sighed, his helmet blocking the sound from the group. Everyone here was looking for a fight, weren't they? "I'm not looking for trouble. Back up and I'll be on my way." His voice momentarily stunned the group into silence. Then, the largest masked male sneered and jabbed a meaty finger into his breastplate.
"Listen here, you waltz in our territory and order us around? No way, man." He reached for his warhammer, causing Fred to tense up. As soon as his hand grazed the surface of the hilt, he lashed out, landing a hit square into his jaw. A crack was heard, but he paid it no heed. The large SPARTAN followed up with a roundhouse kick into his sternum, throwing the bulky man into the side of a warehouse.
Fred brandished his knife quick enough to block a strike from the thin man, but was tripped up by the woman. He bit back a curse as he rolled away from what would have been a painful meeting with the bottom of her boot. Perfect, she was adept in CQC.
He smirked as he stood up, holding the knife in front of him in a reverse grip. He beckoned them to come at him with his other hand, getting two angry growls in return as they sprinted at him. He raised his free arm up in a block for the woman's chop and moved his blade in front of the other's offending red one. With a grunt he pushed them back and slashed at their chests in one swift motion. To his immense surprise, there wasn't a single speck of blood coming from his attack, and it seemed that his slash only made them angrier. He scowled and jabbed towards the man's stomach, but was blocked by a kick to his wrist.
His knife flew out of his hand but he recovered quickly, grabbing the woman's ankle before slamming her into her friend's side. He kept swinging her around even after using her as a bat until he reached a good speed before letting her go, flinging her through the warehouse where her bulky leader wa- Wait, where was he?
The CQC specialist was answered by a flash of pain in his side, causing him to stumble. He grunted and whipped around, coming face to face with a face very reminiscent of a gorilla. He scowled and wrapped a hand around said face before throwing him back, his legs carrying himself back slightly for distance. He looked at the two men - who he assumed were both Faunus now - as they advance on him. He looked between them, chewing on his lip. He reached down for his side arm, but grabbed nothing but air. He looked down in shock, only to see a feline tail wrapped around his magnum's hilt pulling away. He growled but didn't advance on it, as he was pulled back into the fight by a red blade racing towards his visor. He leaned back before slamming his elbow into the smaller man's gut, grinning slightly as the body went limp on his arm.
Seeing the warhammer come at him, he moved the man's body in the way. He didn't flinch when the hammer connected to the unconscious man's spine with a crack, and he didn't flinch when he had the gorilla man's arm in his hand, nor did he flinch when he bent the arm in an unnatural angle. He didn't even flinch as he slammed his fist into the man's throat, closing his windpipe for good.
He only flinched when he heard an unnatural scream come from the female of the group. He turned towards her, but was met with the barrel of a gun in front of his mask. He quickly reached for it, but was stunned by the loud 'bang' of the magnum and the harsh bullet slamming into his visor. Cracks appeared on it as he stumbled back, but he recovered quickly enough. He reached for it again, but by the time he even moved a muscle the feline woman fired another two shots into his visor. More cracks appeared on his visor and he felt the trickle of blood flow down his head. He scowled, knowing that last bullet lodged itself in his visor and was currently pressing into his skull painfully.
With a grunt he jumped at her, managing to grab the barrel of the gun before another shot fired off.
His grip went slack, and his visor went black. The last thing he saw was the tear streaks rolling down amber eyes, and he immediately thought of a woman he'd long forgotten.
"Mom..."
Then nothingness.
"Ah, fuck." Were the elegant words of Lieutenant Stonewall. "You mean we gotta take on the Four Horsemen with nothing more than two Hyperion-class cruisers, a single Valiant-class cruiser, three Diligence-class destroyers, two Halberd-class destroyers, and like fifteen stealth ships of ranging classes? You bullshittin' me, admiral?"
Ezra sighed and shook his head, his face grim. "Sorry, but I'm a hundred percent serious. We have about 4 carriers, too, in case you've forgotten. All but one are Poseidon-class. The lone one is a Rocky-class supercarrier, too. Not enough to mount a major offensive against the Horsemen, though." Stonewall grunted and scratched her chin, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration and contemplation.
"Give me a few hours, I should have something that could count as a possible survival strategy. But it would require months of work to get a strategy even remotely resembling a winning plan against those fuckin' cunts." The graying man repressed a sigh, favoring instead to look outside the nearest port.
"Just try, okay? You're one of my best tacticians. I need you working on the plan. If you do, I'll even give you a damn raise. If you make a winning strategy, or at least one that gets us planetside, I'll give you my damn salary. Deal?" The lieutenant was already up and out the door with a large grin on her face.
"You got yourself a deal, cap'n!" Her joyful laugh carried throughout the passageways, causing Ezra to crack a small smile.
Well, for a second. "It's admiral to you, woman!" He swore he heard her laugh louder before she went out of his earshot. He grumbled and stared out the port once again, his mind wandering.
Her words vocalized his worries ever since he left the safe orbit of Reach. How the Hell was he supposed to beat the infamous Horsemen that not even the Covenant could beat? Hell, he could barely fight back against a fleet of said alien radicals with this one. Chances weren't looking too good for him or his fleet. He thought about all the strategies he's learned over the years, all the game changing tactics that allowed him to not only beat back the Insurrection, but the Covenant as well. He narrowed them down, but quickly realized those didn't happen because of his own skill, but rather luck. Some could be attributed to his men and women, but most of them were on different ships or dead.
He pursed his lips and sighed quietly.
"What's the long face for, Admiral?" The aging voice of Catherine Halsey broke him out of his stupor. He looked over at her and immediately noticed that she looked years younger with the lighting. He quickly shot that out of his mind and instead put on a friendly face.
"I'm just planning, don't worry about me." She chuckled and sat down across from him, her hands holding a warm mug of coffee, he assumed.
"You're implying I was worried to begin with, Admiral. I was merely curious as to the cause of your disquietude." The smirk that tugged at her lips - which we lightly covered in light red lip gloss, Ezra idly noticed - was the only thing that let him know she was joking around.
He chuckled and leaned his arms on the table, his gaze playfully glaring back into hers. "That so, doctor? Well, my apologies for assuming then. Would you like me to enthrall you with an in depth version of my concerns?" Her blue eyes rolled in his direction, her smirk growing ever so slightly.
"Please, I'd rather watch engineers repair a battleship than hear your inner secrets." They both shared a chuckle, letting the small talk dissolve into comfortable silence.
Ezra stared into her bright blue eyes with his yellow-brown orbs, his small smile flipping into a slight frown. Her eyes sunk towards the dark brown color of her coffee, her lips pursed in a straight line rather than the teasing smirk she wore earlier. Ezra silently noticed the slight gray streaks in her black hair along with some crow feet at the edge of her eyes. He sighed quietly, leaning back into the metal seat.
"Are you happy with Keyes?" His question came out before even he could stop it, causing both of their eyes to widen. Halsey glared harshly at Ezra, causing him to look away in shame. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
"Good. It's none of your business." He nodded, not wanting to risk angering her further. He silently cursed himself for his rash stupidity. He, a 44 year old man, acting like a damn hormonal teenager. It was almost laughable, if it didn't screw up his relationship with the woman across even more.
He sighed and stood up, tilting his hat towards the scientist with a quick 'Have a nice day', before leaving the secluded area of the mess hall. He started walking away, but was stopped by a hand gripping his wrist. He turned and found sky colored orbs staring deeply into his. "Find my SPARTANs, and I'll make it your business." Her statement caused Ezra to blink, before he chuckled softly.
"Is that a date?"
[Admiral Ezra Cole]
[22nd of September, 2528]
[Aboard the UNSC Winter's Wrath, above Remnant]
The Four Horsemen were gigantic. Where his ship, the Winter's Wrath, was a 1.7 kilometers long, their's ranged in the 20 kilometers to the 40 kilometers. Absolute monsters, and Ezra was suddenly realizing the futility of this mission. He frowned but stood still, his posture straight and confident. He had to appear stoic and brave in the face of these devils for his men and women.
"Ensign, how close until we're able to launch our nukes?" He didn't look over towards Jackson, instead focusing his entire attention on the foes ahead.
"A couple hundred thousand kilometers sir. By that time, we'll already be in their range however." The admiral frowned and nodded, humming quietly.
"Very well. Tell each ship to arm their MAC round and launch their Longswords, Broadswords, and Sabres. Prepare each Broadsword with nuclear capabilities for when they get close. Tell them to launch at 30 thousand kilometers." The dark skinned Ensign nodded and typed away on his holopad. "When we get within fifty thousand kilometers, I want all ships to prepare their anti-air cannons for any of Pestilence's bacteria fighters." More typing. "Within 20 thousand kilometers, everyone is to fire their MAC rounds at Death simultaneously. Within 10, order the Broadswords to fire their nukes. Tell all ships to back up after that, I don't want any casualties from our own nukes." It took a few more moments before Jackson finished and showed it to Ezra. He nodded, telling the Ensign to send it.
He sighed and looked over at Lieutenant Stonewall stoically. "You're sure this will work, Lieutenant?" She nodded, giving him a thumbs up but no grin. He frowned and stared out the front port, the underlying message clear as day.
'We'll lose a lot of people.'
He took off his cap and ran a hand through his graying hair, frowning in the direction of the Horsemen. "Lilith," A green cube appeared on top of a podium next to him. "When we pass the Horsemen, I need you to locate the SPARTANs of Blue Team immediately." The cube shimmered before a young girl's voice spoke up.
"Understood, sir." Ezra nodded and pursed his lips, his teeth busy with chewing the inside of his cheek.
"70 thousand kilometers and closing, sir. We should reach 20 thousand kilometers within the minute." Jackson's voice rang out. The admiral placed his cap back on and secured it, his face morphing back into pure stoicism. "60..."
Seconds passed by like they were hours. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Ezra's face, but he didn't move to wipe it away. "50. Loading the MAC round now."
He gulped and adjusted the collar of his uniform unconsciously. "40..."
"30..."
"Sir, firing the MAC round at Death now!" Streaks of white shone in the dark abyss of space as dozens of MAC rounds raced towards the 34 kilometer long monstrosity that was Death. Winter's Wrath shook as she fired her own, but Ezra stood still, not giving any ground. He glared towards the opposing ships as though his stare was another MAC round.
"Closing in on 10, sir. The MAC round slowed out velocity to half its previous speed. We'll be reaching the 10 thousand kilometer point in half a minute." Jackson's voice broke the silence and Ezra nodded, humming quietly.
"Tell the other ships to load another MAC round." The Ensign gave a confused look in his direction. "Just do it, Ensign." Ezra barked at him, causing the officer to salute and get to it. Cole sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, watching in silent anticipation as the MAC rounds slammed into the thick hull of Death. He scoffed as the rounds barely dent the armor. He almost laughed - almost - at the hopelessness of the situation. He can't believe he wanted to take on these nearly indestructible ships.
"We're at 10 thousand now, sir. They're currently deploying their fighters, sir. They outnumber us 10 to 1." Jackson stated, his voice doing an excellent job of not shaking.
If they make it out of this, Ezra was definitely going to recommend a promotion for his unwavering bravery. "I want all anti-air cannons primed and ready for defense. I want all pilots in their fighters immediately. Get out there and beat back those rebel scum." He scowled, his arms crossed behind his back. "Let's see how powerful these Horsemen truly are."
Hello once again everyone! Yeah, so, it's been about over a month since I last updated. Why, you may be asking? Well, I lost motivation after a little while. I started writing the Yang vs. Chief scene and it just left me. I didn't know where I was going with the story.
Then school came along and my senior year is extremely busy, so I had even less time to write.
Luckily my good friend Saber016 helped me get some motivation back with his talk about the Four Horsemen. So naturally I asked if I could use them, Saber said yes, and here they are.
Gonna be using them a lot in the future. So get used to them.
Speaking of the Horsemen, there are indeed four, if you didn't read the name. That I stated multiple times.
Yeah, four. 4.
War, Death, Pestilence, and Famine.
War is purely offensive and is the most powerful in terms of, well, offensive capabilities.
Death is best for killing a lot at once. Be they ground forces or fleets.
Pestilence is, well, pestilence. Releases Bacteria fighters, which is basically just their fighters.
Famine is purely anti-ground forces. It releases the Titans (another one of Saber's inventions which I'll be using a lot (and nerfed a lot)).
You also got to see Admiral Ezra Cole (no relations to admiral Preston Cole) and the Insurrectionist's Fleet Admiral Isabelle Montez. Hopefully you liked/disliked them, respectively. Or, hell, disliked/liked. Maybe purely liked or disliked? I don't care; They're sticking. Or not, if I kill them off.
Speaking of that, Fred got fucked up. "Oh butt Astronomiae hes a spurtan u cayn't do that!1!" Shh, hold on. Let me explain.
He was tired from weeks out in the wilderness fighting off the Grimm, his armor was already in a state of disrepair, and he was likely hungry and dehydrated from the lack of time to properly eat and drink. Not to even mention the feline Faunus has aura and channeled it into the magnum, increasing its power. So, it isn't far fetched to say she could take down an exhausted, worn down SPARTAN with a few good aura-enhanced shots.
Whether he's dead or not, we'll have to see. I'm still deciding, lol.
There was a lot of POV changes, but they were all necessary (save the Glynda one, I just wanted to write hers for some reason). I'll do that, if you can't tell. I enjoy writing different perspectives rather than one or a small group's.
Anyways, that's all for now. Sorry for the long wait, and to show it I wrote 11 thousand damn words in a day. My fingers hurt and my wrists are killing me, but I did it for you guys.
Please leave a review if you enjoyed! Follow and favorite too, just so other's can see the story! The more attention it gets, the more motivated I am to write. I know, I'm an attention whore, but its necessary for writing.
Sorry not sorry.
(*Quick little update that I forgot to add*) Updates will probably be like monthly like this one. Although the quality and length should increase, the amount of chapters released, well, won't. If I can get a chapter out sooner, I will, but for the likely future it will be more like this, if not worse. Only four weeks into my senior year in HS, and I know it's going to get busier, so y'know.
Anyways! As I said review please! Any kind of review, be it encouragement, constructive criticism, or even hate is extremely appreciated! Feedback of all kinds help me grow as a writer and help my stories become better!
Until next time.
