John dodged the first punch of the fight, which came from Madsen. He kicked out and tripped the man, leaping on top of his back and pulling him over. He slammed his fist into the other Spartan's chest, sending him flying into a tree. He scrambled to his feet, just a moment too slowly. A fist hit his back and knocked him to the ground.

Chief let out a mutter of annoyance and got up quickly. He dived rolled away from a kick and got up from a kneeling position. He spotted a combat knife under a bush, not far away. He slammed his elbow into Madsen's gut and raced over to the bush. He kneeled beside it, pulling the knife out. He rose back up to face his opponent. But to his surprise, the other Spartan had vanished.

Chief looked around, not fooled. He walked into the trees, searching for Madsen. He heard a puddle splashing and looked around, even more alert than before. Then he heard rustling leaves from behind, making him whirl around. Then the tree branch above his head gave a crackling sound. He looked up sharply, seeing the Spartan holding a knife on the branch.

"Dammit." Madsen muttered.

John took a step back, yanking on the branch. It broke off of the rest of the tree, causing the Spartan IV to fall onto the muddy forest floor of the arena. The man got up, facing the Spartan II.

John held his knife at the ready and backed away a few paces. Then he charged at Madsen, slashing the knife's blade through the air. He felt it connect with the Spartan's shoulder and pulled it back, seeing blood on the edge of it. A moment later, he felt something sharp pierce the armor on his thigh and then tear his skin. He bit back a gasp of pain, punching Madsen across the side of the face.

The two Spartans pulled apart, each holding their bloodied knives. Madsen chucked his knife into the left side of John's rib-cage. As the Spartan II struggled to regain balance, he grabbed the knife and slid it across the man's chest, hearing him let out a cry of pain. He pulled the knife back, kicking the man onto the ground.

"Gotten rusty, eh?" Anthony sneered.

John glared up at him, trying to ignore the pain flaring in his chest. He felt blood leaking from the wound and onto his armor. Rahe flew through him and he kicked Madsen's legs out from under him. The Spartan IV slammed into the ground, his head hitting harder than the rest of his body. With a pang of satisfaction, the older soldier gripped his knife and climbed on top of him.

They tumbled across the ground, each fighting to be on top of the other. In the little scramble for the advantage, pieces of their armor were ripped off, revealing their black undersuits. Madsen forced the knife from John's hand, pinning him to the ground. The Spartan II had lost the armor on his left arm and his back. Madsen had lost the armor on his right leg and that was it.

Madsen spun the knife in his hand. His empty hand ripped the sleeve of John's undersuit, exposing the pale sin of his arm. The knife was forced into his shoulder, making him grunt and squirm beneath his opponent. The Spartan IV slowly pulled the knife through the skin of John's arm and shoulder, down to his hand.

An idea occurred to Chief and he headbutted Madsen off of him. He forced the knife from his grip and pinned him against the nearest tree, choking him with both hands.

"That was a mistake." He told the pinned man angrily.

Madsen managed to rip John's cut arm free from his throat and twist it, making him let go with the other arm. A headbutt knocked the injured Spartan to the ground. John scrambled to his feet, throwing in a couple punches as he did. As he glanced around for his knife, he felt Madsen's stab into the bottom of his chin, narrowly missing his tongue. It wasn't stabbed into him completely, so it didn't reach the roof of his mouth, but his chin burned with pain. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he ripped the knife out and stabbed his opponent's hand.

"Had enough yet, Chief?" Madsen taunted, tearing his knife from his hand.

"Not on your life." John breathed in reply, bracing himself.

"You sure?" The Spartan IV asked, a sneer in his voice. "You look a little beaten there."

John glanced at that pond beside him. Swallowing a mouthful of his own salty blood. "Absolutely." He snorted, balling his hands into fists. "Come at me."

Madsen barreled into hm, knocking him into the two foot deep pond. The Spartan pinned him down, keeping his head above the water. John struggled to push up, out of the water. Pain ripped through his exposed wounds. The glass of his helmet cracked and a web of cracks crossed it. Water began trickling in.

"Shit." He muttered. "Oh shit."

John clamped his mouth shut and kicked Madsen with one of his legs. He felt the man recoil a bit, but not enough to overpower him. The water had just passed over his top lip now and he was getting desperate. He's not going to drown me!

He tore his right arm free and punched his fist across the Spartan IV's face, knocking him off. John popped his head out of the water just was it reached his nose. It began leaking back out as he scrambled into the dirt on the bank.

"John!" Cortana's voice screamed from the bleachers.

Before he could move, John felt a hand gripping his left shoulder. Oh no...Madsen threw him into a tree trunk, a sharp piece of wood digging into his exposed spinal cord. Pain rippled through his whole body and suddenly he couldn't feel his felt arm. He tried to ball both hands into fists, but his left hand didn't obey. Worry coursed through him when his elbow wouldn't bend or his shoulder move.

"My arm…" He gasped out in a broken voice.

Madsen let out a raspy laugh as he walked up to the Chief. "Problems?"

John looked at his muddy, beat up armor. It certainly didn't look like it's usual gray-green now. It was brown and red from his blood and the mud. He glared up at the Spartan towering over him and balled his right hand into a fist. "You did this." He burst out angrily.

"Did what?" Anthony asked in a mockingly innocent voice.

"You know what you did!" He nearly screamed at him, rage overpowering the pain.

"I do?"

John forced himself to his feet, his breathing labored and his arm hanging limply at his side. "Goddammit, Madsen."

He tried to punch the man across his face, but his fist was easily grabbed. He kicked Madsen's ankle, but nothing happened. He kicked the exposed ankle and Madsen nearly fell to one knee.

"Not bad." Madsen growled. "But you've gotten slow in your old age."

"But more experienced as well." John added, a hint of readiness in his voice.

He pulled on his arm, yanking Madsen towards him. He hit his helmet as hard as he could against his, making his opponent let go of him. He looked at his fist and then glared back at Madsen who was getting up from the dirt.

"You think you can take me down, John?" Madsen sneered. "You can only use one arm!"

"Don't underestimate your opponent." He warned him, barreling into his side.

The two Spartans tumbled down to the edge of the water. John managed to get on top, slamming Madsen's back into the ground.

"See?" He raised his eyebrows under his helmet.

"Don't give tips to the other team." Madsen responded gruffly.

The Spartan IV slammed his fist into John's chest, sending him further up from the water. The Spartan II struggled to his feet with his good arm, only to be punched in the gut. He landed slumped up against a tree trunk. His whole body ached with horrible pain. He couldn't find the strength to get up, so he just watched Madsen approach him.

This whole fight was a mistake on my part...He thought defeatedly.

"Done yet?" Anthony asked as he reached him. He grabbed John by the gash in his chest and pinned him against the tree.

John didn't have the strength to reply or even let out a groan of pain. He just looked at his enemy through the cracked glass of his helmet. He let out a quiet huff. The crowd that had been cheering and gasping the whole time had gone silent, watching them closely.

"You know," Madsen replied, his voice soft. "I'm surprised you haven't passed out or died yet. Most Spartans would've by now, especially under that much pain. I'm sorry that I kicked your ass so hard, I-"

"Oh yeah?" John rasped. "I'm a living legend, I'll never die."

The other soldier snorted. "Wise words from a legend half dead." He dropped Chief, who crumbled to the ground with a weak groan. "You're not a legend anymore, Chief. You may have been once, but it seems that your time is nearly over. You should've been discharged from duty twelve years ago, you know. Why do you still fight?"

"Because it's the right thing to do." He murmured. "I fight to protect humanity for what's right."

"What if we're fighting for what's wrong?" Madsen suggested. "What if the rest of them are lying to us? What if the Covenant fights for what is truly right?"

"It's not possible." John panted. "They're the enemy. As long as we keep fighting, we have a chance. A chance to save humanity. A-a chance to save everything that deserves to live."

The younger Spartan shook his head. "You're wrong, John. Your decades of service have blinded you from the truth. Stowed it away. Think about it. We'll meet again soon, 117. I guarantee you that."

And with that, Madsen began to walk towards the exit, leaving the Chief crumpled on the ground.