John woke up to feel Cortana curled up around him. He struggled free, careful not to wake her. Then he picked up his helmet and put it on. He left the room and clambered down the stairs to the first floor. He went out the front door, heading towards the city's main fighting arena. He walked through the streets, ignoring the curious gazes of the citizens.
"Hey, Chief." Thomas Lasky walked up from his side. "You're really going to fight him?"
"I have no choice." He replied. "As a drunk idiot last night, I agreed to that."
"You think you can beat him?" The man asked. "He's a Spartan four and you're only a two."
"I'm aware." John glanced at him. "But I have more experience than Madsen does."
"Alright, I trust you with that." Lasky nodded curtly. "I'm rooting for you, Chief. Don't lose."
"Not planning on it, Lasky." The Spartan responded firmly. "I'm not one that usually loses."
"I know." The man gave a smile. "Good luck. See you there."
Chief gave a nod of farewell as the man walked away and began to continue on to the arena. He reached the building and went in, finding that there was a huge crowd waiting. Since it was only seven thirty, he stood out of the way, glancing into the arena.
The arena he'd be fighting Madsen in was some kind of an ecosystem. There were trees, but the ground was dirt and mud. Several puddles were scattered around the place with a pond in the middle. Bushes lined the trees, covering hidden roots. There was a gate into the room that surrounded the arena. In the room, there were bleachers everywhere. He gave a small nod. This wasn't going to be easy, especially considering that the arena was about an acre in each direction.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" A voice came from beside him.
John glanced over to see Madsen. He gave a small snort. "I guess."
"You ready for this?" Madsen asked.
"Since when have I not been ready for a fight?" He challenged. "Of course I'm ready."
"Good." The Spartan IV sneered. "We gotta be in there in five minutes so they can let the crowd in."
"Great." Chief muttered. "Are we using any weapons?"
"Maybe a couple of knives, if the referees are generous." Madsen told him.
He nodded slowly.
"John!" Cortana's voice came angrily.
"Shit." John muttered. He turned towards her. "Yeah?"
"You left without me." She grumbled, eyes ablaze.
"Yeah." He replied. "I know."
"Why?" She asked, calming down a bit.
"Had to be here early and didn't want to wake you." He told her.
Cortana shook her head, letting out a small laugh. "Good luck out there, Chief."
"Thanks." He smiled under his helmet. "I'll need it."
She vanished into the crowd. John shook his head, turning back towards the arena, ignoring Madsen's chuckling.
"Let's go." He stated firmly.
"Alright then." His opponent agreed. "I'll show you the way we're supposed to go in."
John gave a small nod. "Lead the way."
They walked alongside the arena, reaching a small hall. They turned down it and made a left turn as they reached another side of the arena, across from the way the visitors were to go in. They went through a set of double doors, entering a small room. Another set of doors stood at the other end of the room.
"Ready?" Madsen eyed him.
"Always." John replied, his voice slightly cold.
The two Spartans walked up to the next set of doors, pushing them open and entering the arena. It looked more amazing from the inside, John realized. And bigger. He heaved a sigh.
"Contestants to the middle of the arena, please." A voice rang through unseen speakers.
"Well, there's out first orders." Madsen chuckled.
John rolled his eyes. "No kidding."
They reached the middle of the ring and turned so that they were facing each other. A loud cheering erupted as the first of the crowd was let into the bleachers. After five minutes, everyone was sitting in their seats.
"Quiet down, quiet down please." The same voice rang out. Silence came. "Alright, today for this battle we have Master Chief and Spartan Madsen. Are both contestants ready?"
John gave a thumbs up and Madsen put both thumbs up.
"Three. Two. One." The crowd counted down.
"Fight!" The announcer shouted.
