The Master Chief laid on the hard stone ground, still in his Mjolnir armor. His vision was fuzzy, and his HUD was dark.

'Am I dead?' He wondered if his many repeats of crashing headfirst from dangerous heights had finally killed him. The last thing he remembered was a Scorpion slamming into his faceplate, the everything going dark, disproving his question. He was very much alive and well. The Spartan tried to sit up but felt an immense weight.

"Damn it. Hydrostatic Gel must be locked up." He muttered as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, calling upon his natural strength. When he stood up, he could only see darkness around him, the area of his surroundings devoid of light. In response, his augmented eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, giving him some vision of his current dilemma.

In the darkness, he saw moldy brick and stone. Dark and grey, without any form of color whatsoever. In front of him, a layer of metal rods line up before him. He was in a jail cell, not like a UNSC or Covenant cell, but a regular cage made by his fellow humans.

Confused, he slowly picked himself towards the metal cell, still groggy in his wake, and tapped the metal bar with his knuckle to test the material. He expected it to be titanium at least, but instead…

"Iron?" The Master Chief was confused. Instead of an energy barrier or one and a half meters of solid Titanium, standing between him and freedom was a set of metal bars. Paper mache for a Spartan. The real question now lingered in his mind. How did he arrive here? Who captured him? Why lock him up in iron if his status as a Spartan was public knowledge? As he stood up, his HUD powered up. But his shield bar remained dark.

"Hmm?" The Master Chief's confusion grew stronger. What had taken his shields out? The massive blunt force would've at worst dented his armor plating. The Chief shrugged, he'd have to hope they reboot at some point. He didn't think it would be too much of an issue. After all, he spent most of his career without shielded armor anyways.

"This is Spartan 117 of the UNSC. Can anyone hear me?" He called out into his comm, one of the few systems currently functioning. The Spartan patiently waited for twenty seconds, hoping for a response from the other end only to be greeted with irritating static. He let out an irritated sigh.

"This is Spartan 117 of the UNSC can anyone read me?!" He called again.

Static alone greeted him.

The Spartan slumped his shoulders, taking in a deep breath and let out his agitation. He looked around his cell, seeing essential commodities like a bed, but severely degraded. He checked under the rusted bed and in the corners of the room just in case, looking for his weapons, but to his expectations, they were absent. After that, he pondered on his next course of action. Like he'd done dozens of times in the past when he lost contact with his allies. He would seek out armaments, sneak past any potential hostiles, then search for his allies.

As he surveyed the outside of his cell and any other parts of the building he was in, he caught a few skeletons in the cell directly in front of his. He frowned upon seeing flies circling patches of necrotic flesh and torn fabric.

"Terrible way to die." He muttered. He'd seen this before in Insurrectionist prison camps. He took a look at their death scenes. Judging from the condition of their bones, they were continuously beaten before, evident by the cracks on their forearms and spine. However, the primary cause of death was mostly from either starvation or illness at best, since he could not see any dried blood splattering around the cell.

The Spartan was now getting an idea of when he could be. Though this did nothing to ease his confusion. The environment around him was very reminiscent of a dungeon in Middle Ages Earth. The clothes and furniture did not even bear the logos or pin numbers. There is not even a camera overlooking his cell, or any wires to provide power to the hidden cameras as well. Had he been sent back in time? The Chief shook his head, dismissing the thought. That was ridiculous. Could he have been captured by a Splinter group of the Covenant or an insurrectionist Cabal that happened to have a Medieval dungeon? Equally unlikely. John knew his questions wouldn't be answered just by standing around.

Without a word, he grasped two adjacent bars of his cell, easily bending the metal until the gap was wide enough for his escape. However, the iron screeched, echoing across the mossy stone walls. He had to move fast. Already he can hear faint breaths of a man down the dark halls. It ominously echoed down the dark hallway in front of him, getting closer.

Without hesitation, he quickly exited the cell and then sprinted down the hall towards the sound until he saw a split in his path, and then started to climb the walls of the hallway until his helmet can touch the ceiling.

Despite weighing just under 1000 pounds in his armor. Like all Spartans, John was an expert when it came to stealth and espionage. He clamped tightly onto the ceiling, digging his fingertips into the stone surface. The Chief hung there, as a man carrying a torch sprinted by, failing to notice the man-sized brick holding onto the ceiling. Inspecting the man, as he passed by, he was a guard, one dressed in attire far behind modern times. At least lease he confirmed himself to be in a medieval setting at least.

'This can't be right.' He thought. Maybe he was dead and living in the last few minutes of brain activity? The Spartan had no time to question his existence. He had a potential threat to his stealth to neutralize.


The guard assigned to the prisoner sprinted for his life. Under the orders of Esdeath herself. He does not want to imagine the pain she will plan for him if anything should happen to the prisoner.

Panting in overexertion, he sprinted down the dark, moldy halls with a torch in hand, heading towards the strange sound he heard in the hallways. He hoped it was his imagination, but the reality proved otherwise when he arrived at the cell…

"No… no no no no no no. This can't be happening." The guard shivered as he saw the bent iron bars. He then started running out the way he came from, as it was his duty to inform his superior of the prisoner's escape. But when he turned to the left, he saw the hulking man in the armored casket standing silently, looking down at him.

Before the man could blink, he found himself in a chokehold. The cold metal worn by the creature stung his face, while his windpipe felt like the jaw of a hound was tearing it off.

'So fast!' He thought, panicked. He remained there for a few seconds, then the creature spoke.

"Speak. Where am I?" It spoke in a deep voice. The kind of voice that belonged to a being of conflict.

The guard gagged as he flailed his arms into a haphazard right hook, hitting his helmet with all his might. Only to break his fist on the metal. He tried to scream, but the man's grip tightened to clog his vocal cords from doing so.

"You have ten seconds to speak. Or else you will end up like those guys." The creature motioned to the skeletons rotting in the cells. The guard felt the pressure on his windpipe lessen, enough for him to breathe and speak.

"One… two. Three." The creature started counting, but his pace was already quickening with each count.

"Okay okay, I'll talk… just, please. I have a family!" the man shouted.

"You're lying." The creature said in response.

"Eh?" The man uttered in bafflement.

"One more time, and I will break your neck. Eight. Nine-"

"Alright! You're in Esdeath's personal prison!"

"Explain. Speak in less than twenty words or else I will kill you." The creature asked. The guard's brow arched in confusion. How the hell could someone not know Esdeath?

"Y-You're scheduled to be tortured by Esdeath herself! She wanted you to be awake for her when she returns and-"

"Who. Is. Esdeath." The creature threatened as his grip tightened again. The man gulped.

"T-The empire's greatest general…"

"The empire?" The creature now sounded confused. But the man was even more confused. How could this... thing be so ignorant?

"...never mind. Where's the way out? Are there more of you?" The man asked, changing the subject. The man shakily raised his arm in the direction he came from, a dim light shining through the darkness.

"Good. Now, where are my weapons?" The creature asked.

"Weapons?" The man did not know. He was assigned as a guard, but...

The last thing the man knew, was a sharp pain at the back of his skull before his world went black.


The Chief slammed his head back first into the wall, knocking him out before he turned to the direction the guard pointed.

"...what the hell is the empire?" the question lingered on in his mind. Questions for later. Escaping the crazy person's prison cell was imperative.

The Chief felt terrible for the guard back there. He never meant his threats. But when it came to gathering information, he always did what was necessary. The Spartan hastily rushed across the dark hall, the light growing stronger and stronger. He sped up the stone stairs, the thunder of his mass against the stone echoed up and down the hallway. Within moments, he reached the outside. He flinched as the sunlight blinded him, instinctively raising his hand to his visor. He then lowered it as his HUD compensated for the light.

When the light died down, the Chief took in his surroundings. Overlooking the vicinity was what appeared to be a castle made of polished marble, with wooden roofs painted green. The day was partly cloudy. And in his immediate vicinity were well-maintained lawns and stone paths crafted with utmost precision. Whoever built the place would've been wealthy, modern of Medieval. The Chief took a few steps forward, carefully scanning the environment.

He was outside a garden of flowers and white stone. With the birds chirping and the plants covered in dew, he contemplated on the person's sanity, because this Esdeath established the garden beside the cell where the corpses lay to rot in cells. The Spartan clenched his hands, testing his grip. He smiled in satisfaction upon feeling no resistance. The armor lockup was gone.

Shrugging his thoughts, he started running to the walls, hooking his fingers into the polished stone and climbed up with every pull. Following the roads would lead to disaster, as he needed a clear sight of his path to freedom. As he climbed over the walls, he saw a large court filled with decorative plants and a fountain in the middle. But what caught the Chief's attention were the guards stationed at various points around the area. They were dressed similarly the guard who he dealt with earlier.

Not only that, his biggest concern was the massive wall surrounding the palace. The height of the walls rivaled that of the Great Wall of China.

'What the hell…' He doubted he could climb over those walls without being caught. He would need another route outside if possible. They must have paths leading outside the walls. The best bet is the underground sewers, where no one will dare pass through.

Now… he will need a guide. The question is, where can he find one?


Esdeath hummed to herself, walking with Prime Minister Honest beside her. When she informed him of the intruder that crashed from the sky in her garden, the fat man was jubilated when he received the details of the man's armor. Very hard and heavy, but indeed durable. Not even her sword could scratch the surface, which made it even more valuable than ever as Esdeath's sword was created by the finest metals known to the Empire.

"General Esdeath. It's my understanding that you wish to interrogate the armored being correct?" Esdeath chuckled a little in sadistic glee.

"Why of course. A hole doesn't just appear in the sky, and foreign debris starts falling through."

"I am more interested in the other objects that made it through. Dr. Stylish…. naturally took it all for himself. But even he is having difficulty understanding the objects."

As they chattered, they made their way down the stairs to her dungeon.

"You don't suppose it could be an Imperial Arms? I mean….. My blade couldn't even scratch the damn thing." Esdeath said.

"If it is, it would make a fine addition to my personal collection, my dear. But first, the big question. Can we separate the armor from the man?" Honest asked to the point.

"It seems we will have too if I wish to get started on it. Dr. Stylish has his work cut out for him." Esdeath joked a little. The two continued walking along the dark corridor in the direction of the prisoner. Esdeath's brows arched in surprise when she saw a downed guard, right next to a misshaped cell.

"..." Esdeath made the cells from the most excellent iron money can buy, yet…

"Esdeath… I thought you had the prisoner secured." Honest said, frowning upon seeing the shattered cell and unconscious guard. Esdeath slowly approached the downed guard, touching his neck. There was a pulse, Esdeath smiled. She'd have fun with him for his failures later.

"He should still be here. I doubt he can escape the palace in that armor." His armor was heavy, meaning it should be loud.

"Indeed. Such a vessel should weigh at least 400 kilograms by the look of it." Honest said.


"Talk. Quietly." The Master Chief said as he held what looked like a noble by the neck. He was dressed in pompous attire that would make him question his ancestor's fashion sense, with the baggy clothes and white frills protruding from the sleeves.

Little did he know, he was in where the nobles congregate, where they chatter, and some indulge in their debauchery, mainly the slaves for the corrupt.

As the Chief interrogated the man, two older men dressed in noble outfits stepped into the room. They froze in surprise upon seeing the Chief, holding what seems to be a broken wood as a dagger to the poor man's throat.

"What-." Before the man could utter another word, the Master Chief already dashed in, tossing his hostage aside and grabbed the two men by the throats and slammed their heads together, then dropped their bodies down, not caring whether they live or not for now.

"Now where were we… Where are my weapons? Scream, and you will die."

"Y-you are the metal man who fell from the sky?"

"Stop stalling. Answer. Now. Or I will break your neck and leave you to rot." The Master Chief responded.

The Nobleman gulped, as his heartbeat.

"Uhhh ummm…. I heard that some of the objects that fell from the sky are being held in Dr. Stylish' lab."

"...where is it?" The Chief asks. He wanted to question who in the world named himself 'Stylish,' but he will do that later.

"I-in the military sector… underground somewhere."

"Somewhere?" The Chief asked, threateningly with emphasis on the word.

"I- I don't know. I'm a man of nobility. Only Prime Minister Honest or the Jaegers should know…"

"Explain. Please. Who knows how long until I have to kill you." The Master Chief asked as the noble started babbling for his life.


Thirty minutes later, the men were found unconscious by a working maid, the culprit already long gone from the scene. The maid, panicked ran to warn one of the guards, or better yet one of their local Teigu users. The Jaegers. She ran to the nearest room owned by a Jaeger. Kurome. The maid pounded on the door, only to receive silence. She hit again, this time asking for permission to enter due to an emergency. When she received further silence, she opened the door reluctantly… only to find Kurome on the bed, sleeping…

When she entered, the sleeping beauty slowly opened her eyes, and then sprang up with her hands to her hip as if drawing a sword.

"Where is he?" Kurome asked as her eyes darted around the room.

"U-Um…"

"Where is the armored man?" Kurome demanded as she no longer felt her sword at her waist. It was gone…

Twenty minutes earlier….

The Master Chief hastily walked through the halls of the palace, heading towards the door where the Jaeger supposedly reside. He then knocked onto the door three times, before he heard, "Who is it?"

The voice was young. Too young. From what the noble said, the Jaegers are bloodthirsty killers under Esdeath's authority. The best of the best.

But what irked the Spartan the most was their implied age. The Noble had described most of them as teenagers and young adults. It reminded him too much of his situation, but that was classified.

"There is a disturbance in the halls. Some prisoner broke out of his cell and is on the loose in the palace." The Master Chief informed with his voice, laced with urgency. He did not lie in the slightest. A prisoner did break out of the cell.

"Sigh…. Why can't Wave deal with this instead." The Chief heard the girl mutter in her room. "Alright, where are they now?"

"Unknown. We have yet to locate the prisoner, so I was ordered to come to inform and lead you to General Esdeath for further orders," The Master Chief replied as a matter of fact. He heard the rustling of sheets in the room, along with the sheathing of a sword.

"Is that so?"

"Correct."

"Hah… how bothersome."

The girl behind the door opened the door, expecting to see a guard in uniform. But the moment she saw the man in the casket, she stood paralyzed from shock.

In one fast motion, the Chief reached in to grab the girl. But to his shock….

He felt a strong force against his gauntlet, along with the clang of metal against metal.

'What?' The Chief thought in utter disbelief. The girl not only managed to react to him but also somewhat resist his strength. He pushed against the blade with more force, forcing her back. She had the power of an Elite minor by his guess, despite her fragile frame. But it was still not enough to his standards, and he then grabbed the blade and gripped her throat with his other hand before she can react. The Spartan lifted the girl up into the air; she instinctively clutched at the armored hand.

"Now then, I was wondering if I can question you, but…" The Chief then knocked her out with an elbow to her neck, at the spot where her nerves are most clustered. The result was less effective than suspected as he can still see some light in her eyes.

'She is…. Impossibly strong.' The Chief deemed her too dangerous to interrogate and then proceeded with the traditional headbutt.

After knocking her out the old fashioned way, the Chief searched her room for clues, though he regretted it a little when he found what seems to be her panties… he shook his head, purging his head of any thoughts regarding his image, as he continued searching for any information. He searched and searched, but was unable to find anything worthwhile in the end.

Sighing, he decided to book it… but not without getting rid of the evidence. First, he set the girl back to her bed, covering her with the sheets gently to make her look like she was sleeping. And then…

"...I do need a weapon." The Chief decided to make due with her sword. It was too thin for his taste, and his ingrained muscle memory was more used to the plasma swords of the Elites, but it will do. In fact, he was more worried about accidentally shattering the blade. After that, he then proceeded to search for the other Jaegers.

Now back to standard time….

The Chief was already in the room of Esdeath where she gathered the Jaegers for missions and the like. He was in there, as he noticed another one. This time, called Wave as he heard the Guard called out to him before, and then followed him to the other room.

The room was elegant, paintings and art decorating the walls of the room, with a rectangular table of royally carved stone, with the light of the sun dawning the room from the window. Wave sat down at one of the six seats, placing his elbow on the table while resting his head on his arm. He sighed, his eyes wandering to the light of day basking the room in holy light, wondering why Esdeath summoned the Jaegers for a meeting.

It was already enough with being punished for allowing Tatsumi to escape, and she was still sadistically tormenting him without mercy.

As he thought this, the door behind him creaked, as he heard faint footsteps entering the room, the sound of them a little heavy, reminding him of Bols'.

"Oh, hey Bols." Wave greeted without bothering to look behind him. As he said this, his eyes then wandered to the paintings out of boredom. He could never get used to the room, how it was lavishly decorated ostentatiously to match the noble status.

As he looked at the glass-framed painting, he saw the reflection of Bols… or the person he thought was Bols, casually walking up behind him as if it was natural. It took Wave two seconds to react given the man's appearance and gait.

"Huh… Huh?!" a red exclamation can be metaphorically seen above his head as he fell out of his chair and scrambled away from the man.

"Tch. You saw me." The man's voice was masculine, deep, a tone that gives him the impression of a scarred warrior. Regardless, he was an intruder, and he must be put down like one.

'What is he doing?' The chief thought as the man took an odd looking sword, dark blue.

"So you're the thing that has Stylish all worked up." Wave said. The Master Chief remained silent, carefully watching his movements. If Wave was anything like Kurome, he had to be careful. Wave looked at the blade in Master Chief's hand.

"That's… Kurome's weapon…" He muttered in a low, angry tone. The Chief remained silent, gripping the katana. He and his other Spartans were never trained in Sword to Sword combat. In favor of the far more common gun battles that took place. The Chief had no doubt he could handle Wave without any weapon at all. But his gut told him there was more to him than at a glance.

"What have you done!? What damage have you caused, freak?" Wave shouted. The Spartan again did not respond. Wave shook his head in exasperation.

"...do you know the girl?" The man asked with genuine curiosity.

"Of course I do. I don't know how you have her weapon. But I'm taking it back!" Wave drew his sword. In flash of white, his body now donned in full armor. It was dark blue, like his sword, and had some vaguely draconic features. Wave held a massive dark blue spear as well. Master Chief's eyes widened slightly.

'What?' He does not know how he managed to get armor to appear out of thin air like that. He knew that for any suit of armor, even for primitive Medieval gear, it would take a decent amount of time to slip the armor. How did he appear with it? The Spartan dismissed the thought as he lowered himself into an iai stance, his right hand already gripping the hilt tightly. He had a new threat to defeat. Wave reared back his arm, pointing the spear towards one of the openings in the Chief's armor. Master Chief saw the attack as less of a threat and more of an opportunity to disarm him.

'Rookie mistake.' He thought. Wave was conveying his intended movement far too obviously. So when he lunged with his spear, Master Chief abandoned his stance and grabbed the spear tip, wrenching it out of Wave's grasp with a strong pull and kicked his stomach with a stomp kick. After knocking Wave back, the Spartan threw it a reasonable distance away.

"Why you!" Wave charged at Master Chief like a bull. The Spartan ducked, moving to the side, and countered with a devastating straight punch to Wave's chest, imprinting his fist on his chestplate. The Chief then grabbed him by the helmet, slamming his head into the marble floor, crushing it, and then proceeded to rest his knees on Wave's shoulders, pinning his arms to the floor while he positioned his arms to break Wave's neck at any moment's notice.

The Mjolnir armor amplified John's already superhuman abilities to even higher levels. With just a light squeeze he could've easily crushed Wave's inferior metal helmet along with his skull.

"Listen closely. You will tell me where this…. Stylish' lab is. Got it?"

Wave grunted angrily.

"And if I don't, you walking casket?"

The Chief responded by increasing his grip on the helmet. The sound of metal crunching filled the room, threatening to be ripped apart to shreds. Wave was trying his best to keep an image of a fearless warrior, but on the inside, he was shaking. What kind of monster was this thing to not only do… whatever to Kurome. But also damage Grand Chariot so easily?

"Ughhhhh…. Underground…." Wave muttered weakly.

"Where? Give me details." He demanded.

"The first room on the right."

"Where are the stairs to the basement?" He asked.

"On the bottom level. It is near the Throne room."

"How do I get inside? How many guards? Are there any more like you?" He continued.

'So many damn questions!' Wave thought, both irritated and scared.

"Speak." Master Chief added, before applying pressure to his skull.

"Urrghhh. There's like a dozen of the Emperor's finest down there. And one of them has a key."

"Hmm… which one?" He asked.

"I…. don't…. Know."

"..." The Master Chief then contemplated in silence. He needed something to distract the people there, but he cannot think of a way to do so. Not without help at least.

"I have a job for you, then."

Wave grimaced behind his helmet.

"If you don't, I will not tell you what happened to your friend. She is close to you, yes?" He followed with a threat he cannot ignore. Wave ground his teeth. He almost didn't want to know what this thing had done to Kurome. But at the same time...

"I will give you a hint. She is alive. But I cannot guarantee her safety if you idle. Who knows where she may be, or what her condition is." He continued adding verbal poison to push Wave's thoughts, making him come to a decision.

Wave felt like crying but held his tears back. "FINE, I WILL DO IT! ARE YOU HAPPY?!" He screamed.

"Good. Here's what you'll do…"


Within the imperial throne room, lies a plethora of imperial guards guarding the room. The throne was empty today, without any event scheduled for the political parties of the empire. The Emperor was away, dining in his private quarters as of now in this quiet time. However…

"Big trouble! A prisoner has escaped one of Esdeath's cells, and he is seen around the Emperor's private quarters!" Wave barged in shouting to the guards within the palace. The guards all turned to Wave, murmuring among themselves. After all, it wasn't every day one of the elite Jaegers was paying direct attention to them.

"Don't just stand there! Get moving. No telling how many he's already killed!" Wave shouted. Without another word, the guards all scattered, exiting out the nearest door they could find until the room is empty.

After all the guards had disappeared from the room, Wave heard a loud thud landing behind him. It was the armored man dropping from the ceiling. How someone like him moves so stealthily in armor like that, he does not know.

"Well done." Master Chief complimented as he walked up to Wave.

"Your friend is in her room. As for her condition, you can see for yourself."

Wave nodded, running off away from the mysterious creature.

'Now then…' The Master Chief then started walking to the room leading to the basement. However, as Wave said, it was locked. So he had to improvise somehow.

The Chief could've tried bashing it in. But the door appeared to be made of solid steel. Depending on how thick it was, he would either merely dent it or shred it like paper. The former was more likely.

'Hmmm… Hm?' During his musings, the Master Chief felt a mental pull, as if something was calling him. He looked at the other flight of stairs leading up as if something was calling him up there. It was a strange feeling…. Yet familiar. It was the kind of pull he'd felt many times.

Forerunner…

In the midst of his thoughts, he heard a faint sound behind him, forcing him to turn around to see a lunging blade aimed for his visor. In reflex, the chief grabbed the blade with his protected hand, seeing the tip of the sword already close to scratching his helmet.

"Well, well, well…" The Spartan found himself face to face with a…. Blue haired woman. Not blue like his AI companion, but more of an icy blue. She was unbelievably young. She was beautiful as well, her features like a delicate angel crafted from ice itself. Her clothes reminded him of a German's white military uniform, with thigh-high bleached heels and white military jacket and a cap to complete her appearance.

"To think you would've made it this far. I must say, you sure know how to surpass my expectations, man of heaven." The woman said.

"Identify yourself." The Chief demanded. He could feel the woman's presence. It was… almost overwhelming. But it came packaged with a hatred only rivaled by the most bloodthirsty of Jiralhanae. The Spartan clutched the blade in his hand. His augmented muscles flexed, trying to disarm the woman in front of him. Yet she smirked, resisting his strength.

'She can't possibly be this strong. How?' The Chief thought. Her Strength was easily comparable to that of an Elite Zealot.

"Hoh, you're a strong one… let's see if I can cut through your armor this time with my new rapier!" She said as she pushed forward, forcing step by step, to ram her blade into his visor.

The Chief knew this was no ordinary Human. He'd have to bring out the strength generally reserved for Elites and Brutes. The Spartan grunted as he forced the Rapier away from him, and back towards Esdeath as her boots skid with harsh friction against the floor. The General ground her teeth, taken off guard by the creature's strength.

"So I underestimated your strength. But!" Esdeath then activated her Teigu, the Demon's Extract as the temperature around her started to drop rapidly.

Meanwhile…..

The Forward Unto Dawn sat halfway in a lake, a trench behind it had dug for many kilometers. While most of its crew of just under 800 personnel, was reduced to merely 200. A skeleton crew. The ship, however, was stocked full of munitions before its final journey to fire Installation 04B and destroy the Flood.

The Arbiter, Thel Vadam slowly stood up. The Bridge of the Forward Unto Dawn slowly came to life. Some of the few remaining crews stirred, groggy from the hard landing. The bridge of the ship was the size of a large room, with a large viewing screen in front. Miranda Keyes, who was unconscious sat in a char in the middle of the room.

The Arbiter stumbled over to the console. The Sangheili limped, his leg must be fractured.

"Hmmrrrph." He grumbled. The Sangheili turned to the commander, grabbing her uniform, shaking her.

"Commander, wake up. We have a situation." The Arbiter said. The Commander slowly opened her eyes, groggily surveying the room. Before looking back at Thel.

"What…. Happened?"

"A slipspace accident happened," Cortana spoke through speakers in the ceiling. The Arbiter looked around the room for the source of the voice. But Cortana materialized on a pedestal adjacent to Commander Keyes' chair.

"Thrusters went dead the second we exited Slipspace….. But the real question is why here….?"

"...W-where is here exactly?" Miranda Keyes asked, now fully awake.

"I'll need some time to triangulate our position from the stars….. But as for how and why we ended up on some earth-like planet…. I am stumped, Ma'am." Cortana said. The Arbiter felt uneasy. He'd been aware of the power and intellect of Human AI, even before the Great Schism. The fact that Cortana of all beings was stumped troubled him much.

"What about the Chief? Any-"

"Gone, I told you already." Cortana snapped at the Commander. Keyes jumped a little, not expecting this sort of response from the usually cool Cortana. The Arbiter lowered his head a little, clenching his mandibles.

"Rest well, Spartan," He said softly.

And….. that is it for Chapter 2 everyone. I hope you all liked it. Review/fav/follow if you want. They're much appreciated.

Know that I wrote the majority of the chapter this time, I, I4MD347H, have slaved over this chapter finishing it in two days. Two days! Remember it, or I will trap your souls with the Power of the Dark Side!