948CHAPTER 1: OPERATION SCATTERED LIKE HELL
The Master Chief felt his mind returning to consciousness. When he did, he immediately began to assess the status of his body. Aside from the minor injuries he had sustained, he was still fully capable of combat. Once he had determined this, he tested all of his limbs to be sure. His hands curled into fists and then uncurled. His legs moved how he wished them to. No stiff joints. However, when he moved to stand up, he felt pain in certain areas of his body. His lower body felt especially intense. Even so, he powered through and stood up.
He was surrounded by woods and grass. Not a sign of Human life could be found anywhere around him. As far as his eyes could see, there was nothing but wilderness. This confused him. Earth had a massive population with very few places that could be designated as a natural wild environment. He knew this because on Reach, when he had trained with his brothers and sisters, the wilderness had become their hunting grounds. They had spent many days out in the wilds, learning how to survive, and even though most of the Human-Covenant War involved taking part in missions, campaigns, and operations within urban and city areas, he never forgot the feeling of the wilderness.
If I've fallen in the wilderness, than I've most likely landed in one of the many preserved areas. The Chief processed as he stood up. In any event, I should be able to get a UNSC signal.
"Cortana, can you-" Chief began, then stopped.
It took only a microsecond for him to remember where exactly he had been before he had found himself here, and when his mind came to the realization, his emotions began surface again. Subconsciously, his fist clenched and his breathing hitched slightly. To any soldier in the UNSC, there was nothing wrong with him, but the spartan knew himself perfectly. Any emotional response from himself was abnormal, and this was amongst his more blatant displays because aside from any subconscious action, he was feeling and acknowledging his emotions.
"Cortana." John whispered gravely.
For a moment, he lost himself to his emotions. He could count the number of times he had truly lost control of himself on one hand. The few times that it did happen, it either involved the deaths of his fellow Spartans or the death of Human lives, civilian or military. Human death affected him more than he let on. In no context could the war veteran ever say that taking a life was truly justified morally, but war had taught him the necessity of action over morality, even if said action was reprehensible. It was easier to let out that killer instinct when fighting the Covenant. They were aliens and they were the enemy, but Human lives? Their deaths were simply unacceptable.
Had Cortana evolved in his mind to the point that she was human? Was she more human that he was? Was that why he felt so much over her death? Was he supposed to feel this way about her?
Luck had somehow always gotten him out of places where others had failed, and it wasn't for the first time that he had come to regret that luck. He had survived when others had not, even Spartans. He was supposed to be the sword and shield of Mankind. What good of a sword and shield was he if he was the only survivor left on a battlefield when all was said and done? What use was he if he was incapable of defending those that he had sworn his life to defend? What was he if he was unable to defend the people that he considered his friends, his family?
"Have I truly failed as a Spartan?" For the first time in his life, John doubted himself. "Have I done my duty to Humanity?"
The Master Chief instinctively reached into the back of his helmet to retrieve Cortana's chip, and to his disappointment and sadness, it was no longer there. It had disintegrated when the terminal housing Cortana had disintegrated, taking his AI companion with it. He knew that she wasn't there because he couldn't feel that sensation in his mind when she was there. Every time he inserted her into that slot, her presence was instantly recognizable. At first, it was a feeling of invasion, but soon it became natural like his own breathing. That feeling soon morphed from being an annoyance to being a comfort.
Further musings were interrupted when he heard a growl nearby. Even having missed the sound for nearly three decades, he recognized that sound on instinct. Only a wolf could produce that growl. He rounded his body, and what he saw fit what he imagined yet it sent a feeling of alienation at the same time.
The thing in front of him was definitely wolf-shaped roughly speaking, but there was something wrong with it. It had white plates and white spikes lined on its body. Whatever wasn't covered in white was jet-black with not an inch of fur or hair of any kind. The only other color apparent was red in the eyes and the mask, but it was an empty red, like staring into an alert signal light. It was that red, only devoid of anything living. The final major inconsistency with wolves was that it was enormous, bigger than even he was.
Fighting instinct kicked in and the Master Chief dodged as the creature ran at him and leaped in the air. Once he had seen that, the warrior knew that this thing, despite not being normal-looking, acted like a wolf. With that in mind, he planted his feet in place, waiting for it to turn around and come back at him.
The wolf-like creature charged again, gaining some momentum, then once again leaped into the air. The Spartan responded when the jaws came within arms reach, swiftly retrieving his combat knife from its slot within the MJOLNIR Mark VI armor and rammed it into the eye, the force of his blow enough to throw it to his left. This gave him enough time to throw a fist. The result was a major dent in its head. This seemed to be enough for the thing to go limp without a trace of life.
Then came an even bigger surprise. The black monster began to disintegrate into thin air, transforming into a black mist, dissipating into the atmosphere. The Chief reached his gauntlet out to touch the creature, only to have a part break off and dissolve as well. The only thing he could do now was watch as his target disappeared into nothingness, the only traces being some black dust on the ground and his knife.
What was that? John thought, having never seen anything like this before. It doesn't look like anything the Covenant would use. Could it be Forerunner? No… it doesn't fit with what I've seen. The Flood? No, it doesn't appear to be the Flood."
In any event, he was in hostile territory right now. It would seem that his new mission was to establish contact with the UNSC while evading enemies and eliminating threats when needed. Whatever his thoughts and feelings concerning previous events would be filed away for further investigation, even if he had a bad feeling about all of this. It looked like his comms were still fully functional, but he wasn't receiving any signals on UNSC broadbands. That seemed highly unlikely considering that he should be on Earth.
Why am I not receiving any UNSC signals? The Master Chief asked himself, feeling a bit uneasy in the process. Let's try again.
"This is Sierra 117. Does anyone copy on this frequency?" His inquiry was met with silence, so he tried again. "This is Spartan 117. Does anyone read me, over?"
Nothing.
The Spartan reached to his back to retrieve his battle rifle and then also remembered that he had lost his primary weapon when he had engaged the Didact. The only thing he had left was his combat knife and his M6D magnum, so he was grossly unprepared for a fight and there was no telling if he would have to engage more enemies on his way to finding a UNSC position. While he could and would make do with what he had, he felt exposed. The feeling that he was exposed without weapons was alarming. As he had learned from his training and from reminding his fellow spartans many times, the greatest weapon that any individual had, Spartan or not, was their own body and mind.
John shook off his doubt and steeled himself for what was to come. He was better than this. He had to be better than this. No more doubt, no more second-guessing, no more reservations, no more hesitation. It was time to set out and figure out his situation. Whatever would come, he would face it with all that he had and he would win, just like always. There was no room for failure.
With his steps heavy, he armed himself with his M6D pistol, checked the position of the sun and judged north to be roughly at his four o'clock. He could be doing this for a while, so he mentally prepared himself for a long trek.
Halo - - - RWBY
As the Master Chief travelled further and further away from his place of landing, it became abundantly clear that there was something off, or rather a lot of things were off. This was a funny feeling, like the funny feelings that Kurt-051 used to have.
The first obvious clue that something was amiss were these black creatures that kept attacking at inconsistent times, but still with enough frequency to alert him that they might be native to this region at least. Never in his entire career had he ever seen any animal like this. He wasn't even sure if calling these things animals was right. They displayed the right characteristics, traits, behaviors and patterns of wild animals, but they had something no ordinary animal had: motivation. They were clearly intent on killing him, and though the Spartan was able to fight back with ease, it did make him ponder.
The second obvious clue that something was wrong was the fact that he had been travelling for the better part of ninety-six minutes and he had not received a single UNSC frequency, not even a rough signal. That said, he had received a garbled signal for a brief moment before he lost it. It had to be a civilian line though considering that he didn't recognize the channel or the brief words exchanged. There were none of the expected callsigns, rank identification, or any indicator of UNSC protocol.
The final clue that things weren't right came in the form of his own HUD showing no signs of familiar terrain that was associated with Earth. Even having only been to the human homeworld only once in his life, John had made sure to familiarize himself with the planet. He had even the clearance to survey a full 3D map coupled with details of the terrain, the wildlife, anything that a soldier would need to know in order to do their job. So far, his MJOLNIR armor wasn't detecting anything resembling familiar terrain, and although the suit was relatively dated by modern UNSC standards, it was still a useful piece of equipment.
And on the subject of his armor, much to his chagrin, his energy shields were offline, leaving him only the armor itself to protect him. By no means was he inept at understanding MJOLNIR and its systems, but he was no Catherine Halsey; he knew how to maintain the armor and do some performance diagnostics, but he wasn't capable of drastic armor repairs or software overhauls or anything that required taking the armor apart, fixing it, and putting it back together in any manner whatsoever. That meant for the time being the MJOLNIR Mark-VI was just armor and he was going to have to keep that in mind going forward. He had deactivated his shield bar on his HUD and pressed on.
John felt himself wince in pain slightly as he moved his body. This little hike of his was giving him more of an idea what his body's condition was in. His battle with the Didact had left him in quite the agonizing state. Even now he was still feeling the after effects of the encounter. Though his body was superior to that of normal humans, the pain was still there, subsiding to be sure, but still present. Sooner or later, he was going to have to figure out what exactly was his physical condition and if there were any injuries that were severe, he would need to find proper medical attention. MJOLNIR might be giving him a rundown of his body, but considering the state of the energy shields, there was no telling what other damage that the armor had sustained, hardware-wise or software-wise.
The Chief halted in his tracks as his sensitive hearing picked up more growls and roars from those black creatures, but they were coming from his ten o'clock, and they were lots of them judging by what he could hear. They weren't getting closer to him and that thought came with it a question: what were they converging on? Or maybe it would have been better to ask who were they converging on? These things seemed more likely to attack something alive than objects or things. With his sidearm in one hand and his knife in the other hand, he carefully advanced, his body and mind coordinating his stealth training and knowledge together and putting them into action.
Once he was past a thick of trees, he found himself on a high cliff edge that afforded him a view of his surroundings. Disregarding MJOLNIR's readings, his own eyes quickly scanned his surroundings. Nothing struck him as unusual or out of place at first. It was a temperate forest environment by the look of things. Nothing here indicated any form of civilization Human or otherwise.
Then his eyes spotted something close by: a column of smoke, and it didn't look like it was caused by a natural disaster.
Spartan time began to kick in and in spite of his pain, the warrior took off as fast as he could. His running start let him gain a lot of air and had him careening over the cliff. He made his body as streamline as possible, keeping straight until the time was right. With just a few seconds before hitting the ground, he activated his Promethean Hardlight Shield, using it as insulation. The impact was hard, but thankfully the shield combined with MJOLNIR's resistance allowed him to return to sprinting with no additional damage.
Then he heard what he had been hearing for the better part of nearly three decades. It was a scream, and not just any scream. It was the sound of a scream for help.
A child's scream for help.
Not on my watch. The Master Chief declared to himself.
His movements carried him to the direction that he heard the scream coming from. Judging by the intensity, he didn't have much time. He briskly whipped past the trees, the boulders, the grass. His eyes and ears were carefully focusing on his surroundings.
He caught sight of another black monster, this one shaped like a massive bear. Those familiar white platings and spikes were the same, and it appeared to be swiping at something. Another scream, and this time, the Spartan could distinctly make the voice out to be female.
John moved to engage. Thankfully, its back was turned to him, so he went to execute a simple move that would ensure a quick death. He took a running start and leaped a few meters into the air. Carefully planning his trajectory, he used his weight to off-balance the giant thing before plowing his knife into its neck. It resisted for only a second or two before weakening and being reduced to lifeless ashes. He still wasn't used to his enemies literally vanishing into thin air, so he watched it disappear before doing anything else.
Once that was done, he looked down at the foot of the tree he was nearby. Huddled between two tree roots growing out of the ground was a little girl that was probably no older that six years old. She had black hair and bright green eyes. She did not appear injured severely with only a few minor cuts and scratches along her arms and legs. That was not what got his attention however. What did grab his attention were the strange appendages sticking on the top of her head. Unless his eyes were mistaken, and they almost never were, then he was seeing what looked like a pair of cat ears on top. He could also spot normal ears as well. He was genuinely confused at this. Since when had Humans grown additional features like this?
Further questions were cut short when another distant pack of roars echoed. Stowing away his curiosity, the Master Chief sheathed his weapons, lowered himself to one knee and slowly reached out a hand. He knew that children were easily intimidated by his presence, so he needed to present the most non-threatening demeanor possible. If that didn't work, then he would play his ultimate trump card. It always worked with children.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He said softly, stretching out one hand.
"W-who… a-are you?" The little girl trembled when asking.
He thought about giving her his moniker. Everyone knew to call him Chief or Master Chief, but then he paused for another microsecond. For some reason, he felt somewhat distant from his rank, like it was no longer his identity, but rather a title meant to shackle him to a specific mode of operation.
Like a machine restricted to do what it was made to do.He could almost hear Cortana saying that now. Are you a machine or not?
Against all rationale telling him not to give anything but his rank, he disregarded protocol again.
"My name is John." He produced his other hand. "I'll protect you."
The girl hesitated for another moment before she decided to reach out with both of her hands, her caution present, but dispersing quickly. With his augmented body, he could hurt her easily if he was not careful, so with a touch as light as a feather, he grasped her tiny hands and gently lifted her into his left arm.
"What is your name?" The Chief asked her, shifting his body to keep her from being hurt by his armor.
"L-L-Lilac." The girl whimpered to him, unable to look him at his visor.
"Where are your parents?" The Spartan decided to keep her focused on something else other than himself. "Why are you alone?"
"P-Papa said to r-run!" Lilac began to sob while speaking, as if remembering something she had forgotten. "H-he said to get away from the G-Grimm!"
"The Grimm?" John asked her, not sure what she was referring to.
"T-the monster!" She blubbered. "The b-black and white monsters!"
The Master Chief wasn't familiar with the term Grimm, and judging by this girl's way of using the term, it sounded like a commonplace term to call these creatures. He certainly had never heard of the word Grimm used as anything other than an adjective to describe a situation that was bleak.
One thing was for sure now: he was definitely not on Earth anymore.
RWBY - - - Halo
The village of Vermillion was called its namesake due to the amazing sunrises and sunsets that it was known for. They were beautiful and they were unforgettable. Living away from the territory of the Kingdom of Vale was dangerous to be sure. Between bandits and Grimm that could be roaming around, it was a wonder that the village still stood strong and kept up a sizeable population. Even with the villagers all trained in some form of self-defense, it was still a rough life, but it was home.
Then this massive Grimm attack came out of nowhere. The beasts were relentless and brutal. It was rather unexpected to be sure and nobody knew how it started. As far as everyone was aware of, not a lot of people were feeling negative, thus there was no concentration of negative energy for the Grimm to be sensing. Still, if Grimm saw Humans or Faunus, then they may as well be a rage generators to the monsters.
The defenders were immediately on the case, yet the sheer number of Grimm this time prevented them from keeping them out. As good as they were in preventing the things from getting in, none of them were huntsmen or huntresses, merely men and women defending their homes with a lot of lives on the line. The reality of the line not holding was now beginning to settle in hard. There was no telling how many were dead or wounded. At this point, it was a mad dash to hold onto life.
A man was holding onto his unconscious wife, trying desperately to ignore the gash in his side. When the going got tough, he all but ordered his daughter to flee and hide in their safe spot. It was probably the most stupid thing he had ever done in his life, but it was a lot better than her being in the epicenter of the Grimm attack. If she continued to follow the path and got to the hiding spot, then she could be picked up by a traveller or maybe even a huntsman, ride out the storm.
It was wishful thinking, but he was desperate.
"Shit!" He noticed a Nevermore in the sky.
His head turned when he heard the woman close to him began to mumble something. She was somewhere between conscious and unconscious.
"May!" He called to her.
"Patrick." She called back to him, almost as if she could hear his voice.
"Stay with me!" He said to her. "Don't go anywhere!"
His adrenaline now picking up, he looked left and right, desperate to find some reprieve from this madness. He saw everyone scattered, bloody, or dead. Nothing made sense, nothing was going right, nothing was-
A Beowolf overshadowed him, and despite his instincts trying to tell him to run, a chill ran down his spine, almost freezing his body, preventing him from moving. He could only look up at the Grimm that looked at him as if he would be a satisfactory meal. Then he could only shift his own body in order shield his own wife in a vain attempt to protect her. He might buy her a few more seconds.
The blow that was anticipated never came though. In fact, in the place of Grimm he was hearing gunfire instead, but unlike the weapons fire that he was used to hearing from the patrols, this one was much louder, much more powerful, and completely alien in its sound. Following that gunfire, there was not silence, but less roars and screeches.
He looked up to witness a sight that he had never seen in his life. A massive body, an armored giant stood fighting the Grimm. The strength and speed on display could only be comparable to that of huntsmen and huntresses, and yet there was something more machine than man to the fighting style. There were no flashy moves, no theatrics, just simply efficient and effective combat meant to kill. These traits were not the marks of a huntsman or huntress. These were the qualities of a soldier.
A temporary grapple with a Beowolf, a clean knife into the side of its throat. A kick strong enough to send a smaller Ursa flying into a building. Swift and practiced evasive maneuvers to avoid a claw aimed at the midsection. Deft footwork and positioning to slay two Grimm at the same time, one with a pistol and the other with the knife. Using momentum and the weight of the body to deliver a clean snap of the neck. It was brutal, it was deadly, and it was frightening. There was not a trace of hesitation or pause. It was almost like a Grimm taking human form.
"C'mon, Pat, we've gotta go!" A voice snapped him out of his trance. "Move!"
The man looked up to see one of his best friends Cole Potter helping him up. He was one of the guards, and he looked to be in fairly decent shape. He quickly got up, checking his wife to make sure she was safe.
"What the hell was that?" Patrick asked.
"I don't know, but he's saving our asses, thank the Gods." Cole spoke in a fleeting tone. "C'mon, this way!"
It looked like the Grimm were slowly dwindling in numbers. Whether that was the efforts of the village guard or this new giant, Patrick wasn't sure, but the only thing that mattered right now was getting his loved one to safety. Then he would go find his daughter. She had to be alive out there somewhere. She had to be.
Please be okay, Lilac. He whispered a small prayer.
Halo - - - RWBY
Leaving Lilac behind had been a tough choice, but in order to save this village, he relucantly placed the girl in a small alcove that would be near impossible for any Grimm to get at and told her to not move a muscle until he came back for her.
Now he was getting to work.
The Spartan pummelled his right fist into the side of another black wolf's head, shattering its skull. He then swiftly sideskirted a claw meant for his backside, jumping into a roll, then throwing his knife into the eye of another black wolf. The creature writhed in pain and he then began to wrestle with its head. With a free hand, he grabbed the knife handle and used his strength to make a deep slice through to the other eye, effectively cutting off a piece of its head. Once the piece came off, so too did the rest of the body.
With a brief moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts, he quickly surveyed his surroundings. This village was strangely well-protected and well-thought-of for a non-military location. These people must've been used to these Grimm attacking him. This time, there had to have been something different. Maybe the monsters had gotten smarter or maybe they came with more numbers.
The Master Chief had been going through the town, saving people and killing the Grimm as fast as he could. So far, casualties looked to be relatively high when taking into account his rough estimations for the number of people living here. He had coordinated with a few of the guards and they had directed him to the area where the Grimm were most prevalent. Apparently, he had been warned that there might be some airborne species as well, which made him alter his strategies accordingly. So far, his only contact with the enemy had been on the ground, but he kept his senses sharp for any air attacks.
His motions sensors were picking up fewer dots, leaving him more time to assess the status of some of the civilians. He spotted a young boy trapped under a piece of a building. He rushed over, pulled the debris from the child's body before lifting him into his arms. He spotted a face he recognized, one of the guards that had let him into the community. Careful not to disturb any wounds from the boy, he made his way over.
"Gray!" The man was quick to receive the boy. "You're gonna be okay!"
"How many more are inside the walls?" Spartan 117 asked the man.
"There may be more at the town square." The guard pointed to their right. "Take that path, then take a left. You should see a fountain, can't miss it."
"Understood." John nodded before taking off.
The next ten minutes was spent eradicating any Grimm that tried to get in his way. He had long since stopped using his magnum to conserve what little ammunition he had left, now only engaging in straight-up unarmed combat with the occasional use of his knife. It had been some time since he had gone into battle like this, but his training had prepared him for such a scenario and he wasn't a Spartan II for nothing.
Once he saw the fountain, his helmeted head quickly scanned left and right. The Grimm here were more in numbers. There had to be a sizeable group here, but there was no sign of anyone around. They must be hiding somewhere closeby. He quickly identified ten Grimm within his immediate sightline. Two wolves, two bears, one snake, one boar, two gorillas, and two snakes. The variety was going to force him to adapt on the fly and that wasn't accounting for those that would definitely come his way.
The Master Chief felt his body scream in pain once again. This was due to the biofoam injectors in MJOLNIR applying aid to his wounds. It was painful, but he had been forcing himself to think of the battle and saving lives. He might be able to keep doing this for a while longer, but biofoam was only temporary. Plus, the more he moved, the more he agitated his wounds and risked more damage, but even so, he had a duty to protect Humanity. His injuries were something he just have to power through.
The super soldier charged into the fray to attack. The moment he did, the Grimm detected his presence and moved to intercept him. He called upon his knowledge of animal wildlife, finding himself thinking less consciously and acting more instinctually. In the first years of his training, John and his fellow Spartans became intimately familiar with all sorts of wildlife. More often than not, that wildlife had been a great source of the squad's energy and in the spirit of Spartan training, they learned quickly to observe and watch for patterns in animal behavior.
The first one, a snake, tried to bite him, but he grabbed its razor-sharp fangs with his own hands before snapping off the sharp things and shoving it into its eyes. He then propelled himself into a side kick. The combined might of his augmented body and the further enhancements of his MJOLNIR armor gave him enough force to knock the wolf trying to kill him. He then retreated into a backroll when two paws slammed into the ground trying to crush him. He then swiftly got to his feet and charged forward. His fist collided with enough force to send a bear's head reeling back. In the process, his boot connected with another head.
John's focus on destroying the enemy battled with his desire to protect the people in this village. While he was taking out the enemy with extreme prejudice, he was trying to minimize damage to the environment. With the wilderness being what it was, he assumed that these people likely would have to travel far if they hoped to reach any other form of civilization if their home was destroyed.
The sound of a screech brought his focus to the sky. From the horizon, he spotted a black figure coming in at a fast rate. It could be easily mistaken as just a bird in the distance, but with his enhanced eyes, Chief could see that it was anything but a bird. Its black and white color scheme and red eyes could make it nothing else but another species of Grimm. To make matters worse, it wasn't merely a flying bird, but a very large flying bird. Its sheer size made his pistol lackluster at best and ineffective at worst.
Looking around, Spartan 117 could see the many Grimm appearing and cautiously approaching him. These creatures seemed to realize his situation and yet there were not so foolish as to just jump into the fray after having witnessed their numbers go down quite a bit. Things were not looking too good.
One thing that's always puzzled me about Halo stories is how little we get to see the Master Chief fight by himself. Sure, his relationship with Cortana is near-unbreakable and they are great friends, but I can't help but think that John's overall importance is diminished by her being there. Let's not forget that Spartans are super soldiers, the equivalent to special forces soldiers, and these guys are no pushovers.
The other reason to have Chief as the sole protagonist of this story is to explore his humanity and see how he would operate without the help of Cortana. I believe that even without her, he is still strong and is still capable of making his own choices. Damaged though the Chief is, he is still human somewhere deep down.
So what do you all think of this pilot chapter? Leave a review and if you want to see more, please show your support.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
"The greatest gifts you can give your children are the roots of responsibility and the wings of independence."
Denis Waitley