Planet : Vahrian
Unsc + UEG YEAR : 2571
21st Century ModernWarefare Time
Year : 2009
Modern Earth Time
Year : 2019
JULY 20
. P.O.V.
Five
It wasn't long before the Spartan and his comrades finally reached their intended destination. From the deck of their vessel, they could see hundreds of folks sprawling, bustling land teeming with life. The skies buzzed with airships of all shapes and sizes weaving intricate routes in their daily business.
Despite the congestion, Captain Varick remained unfazed. His reputation preceded him, and he knew full well that those below would make haste to clear a path, unwilling to risk their lives against the steel and timber of his formidable ship.
"Lower the flags!" Varick's voice echoed, steady and commanding.
"Aye, sir!" The crew responded in unison, springing into action. Their movements were swift yet purposeful, as they understood the importance of this seemingly simple task. The flags bore the insignia of their intent-an unmistakable symbol of trade and diplomacy, meant to avoid unnecessary conflict.
Below deck, another hive of activity ensued. Crew members were busy assembling crates filled with vital supplies-food, water, seeds, and medicinal plants. These items were both a lifeline and a currency for their journey, each crate packed with care. Nearby, passengers prepared for disembarkation, eager to plant their feet on solid ground after days spent suspended in the heavens.
Among the passengers, one group in particular stood out-a collection of individuals drawn together by fate as much as by circumstance. Near the ship's edge, Collon gazed downward, his expression a mixture of awe and trepidation.
"I gotta say," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engines, "this isn't something I'm used to."
Morgan, standing nearby with her arms crossed, arched an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean by that?"
"These skies. This world..." Collon hesitated before continuing, his eyes fixed on the chaotic beauty below. "For as long as I've been here, since the day I first stood on that hill, I expected something-a realm of revelation, maybe. But this... it's all so new to me. Magic, for one. It's not something you just adjust to overnight."
Morgan smirked faintly, her expression softening. Carly, an oni agent with a contemplative demeanor, let out a sigh as she listened. Collon's words seemed to strike a chord, bringing her thoughts to the surface. She reflected on her own life, shaped in the aftermath of the Human-Covenant War in 2553-a time when stories of destruction and survival permeated every corner of humanity's collective memory.
Her musings drifted to humanity's journey through the stars. In an age of spacefaring, colonization, and expansion, humans had claimed world after world, system after system. But with progress came strife-centuries of conflict among their own kind, driven by irreconcilable beliefs. And then came the first contact with alien civilization. What had once been distant tales of otherworldly beings became a brutal reality: an enemy bent on humanity's extinction.
Carly's gaze shifted to the horizon, her thoughts heavy with the weight of history. In this vast and complex of what she guessed was her universe, survival itself was an act of defiance. Yet here, in this vast world of vahrian, they were standing on the precipice of an unknown future.
The descent to the bustling cityscape was smooth but deliberate, the airship threading its way through the lanes of airborne traffic. As the ship's altitude lowered, the details of the sprawling metropolis sharpened-markets thrumming with activity, neon signs glowing faintly in the haze, and people bustling between various craft and platforms in an organized chaos. The energy of these part of town was palpable, a vibrant heartbeat of beastkin, humans and dwarves intertwined with the ancient mysticism that permeated this realm.
Captain Varick stood resolute at the helm, barking orders as his crew worked in seamless harmony. The insignia-emblazoned flags now fluttered prominently, signaling peaceful intentions and trade. Below deck, the crates were meticulously organized, the contents secure in preparation for bartering. The captain's meticulousness was a testament to the challenges that awaited in this peculiar city-a place where alliances could shift as easily as the winds.
"This place..." he murmured again, his voice filled with quiet reverence.
"Looks alive, doesn't it?" Carly's voice brought him back to the present. The oni agent stood beside him now, her hands resting casually on her hips, her crimson eyes scanning the scene below.
Collon nodded, his thoughts drifting. "Alive, yes. But unpredictable. There's something about it-something beneath the surface of its looks."
Morgan joined them, her stance as sharp as her tone. "You think every place has some hidden darkness, don't you? It's always shadows and secrets with you."
Before Collon could answer, the ship jolted slightly-a signal that they were nearing a docking platform. A sudden flurry of activity erupted among the crew, their movements efficient but purposeful as they secured the ship to its berth. The passengers braced for the transition, their anticipation evident in their hurried preparations to disembark.
The city's docking platform was a marvel of engineering, crafted from gleaming metals intertwined with weathered wood and ancient stone. It floated suspended in the air, tethered by chains that glowed faintly with an energy almost otherworldly. Merchants and workers bustled about, unloading goods and bartering with an air of urgency. Above them, towering structures stretched skyward, their spires adorned with flags, runes, and the occasional shimmering crystal.
The group stepped off the ship, their boots meeting solid ground for the first time in days. Collon glanced back at the airship, its sleek design a stark contrast to the chaotic beauty of the city. "A ship like that, flying above a place like this... it's surreal," he mused aloud.
Morgan smirked faintly, her gaze shifting to the throng of activity ahead. "Surreal or not, we've got work to do."
As the group began to weave their way through the bustling platform, five attention was drawn to an unusual sight, a woman, cloaked and hooded, slipping through the crowd with a fluidity that seemed almost unnatural. She moved swiftly but deliberately, with his focus unbroken. Five frowned, instincts honed by years of experience prickling at the back of his mind.
"Something's off," Carly muttered.
Collon turned to her, his curiosity piqued. "What is it?"
Carly didn't answer immediately, her gaze locked onto the figure next to her. Gesturing towards five, caught up to her right away. "Five here has gotten something."
"Stay sharp. Keep your eyes and ears opened out to anything strange you see or hear." The spartan said to the group.
"Copy that." Carly responded.
"We shall heed your warning when we have the time, sir five." Morgan responded as she led the way.
As they moved deeper into the platform, the group couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched-by eyes that didn't belong. The city, alive as it was, seemed to hold its secrets tightly. And somewhere in its labyrinthine depths, a spark was ready to ignite.
_______________
A
s the wind swept over the vast expanse of grasslands, carrying with it the chatter of bustling townsfolk below, she tilted her head toward the Spartan. A single thought flickered in her mind, unbidden: *What would their world look like if he-and his brothers and sisters-had never existed?* The Spartan-IIs had been humanity's shield, their existence a crucial bulwark that made it possible to fight back against the alien onslaught with tooth and nail. Without them, what hope could there have been?
Her gaze drifted downward, settling on the lively town nestled amidst rolling fields. The townspeople moved with purpose, unloading carriages brimming with goods, their lives untouched by the specter of the Covenant. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of children chasing each other through the streets, merchants bartering over wares, and the hum of a world unburdened by interstellar horrors.
The Spartan at her side shifted his stance, the subtle creak of his Mjolnir armor betraying his unfamiliarity with such scenes. His presence alone-a towering figure clad in green, an icon of warfare-seemed almost an anomaly here, amidst the mundanity of peace.
The captain's voice boomed from the deck, rallying the passengers. "Prepare for disembarkation!" One of the crew members lowered the ship's ramp with a heavy groan of wood and iron, granting passage to the waiting earth below.
The Spartan-designation Five-stepped forward, ducking instinctively as a burly crewman passed by, hoisting an unwieldy rectangular crate above his head.
"Man, height's a son of a b****, ain't it, big fella?" chimed Zallar, the ever-cheerful dwarf, craning his neck to glance up at Five.
"On occasions," Five replied, his tone as dry as the plains they'd flown over.
"Come on, boys and girls!" Varick's voice cut through the din like a ship's whistle. The old man, ever the taskmaster, waved his crew forward with a sense of urgency. "We've got to keep up! Can't have the other airships showing us up, now, can we?"
Melvinia, watching the proceedings from the sidelines, chuckled. "The old man's always been a competitionist," she remarked, nudging Morgan lightly.
Morgan smiled faintly, her eyes distant for a moment. "He can be. You'll get used to it."
Carly tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her expression. "Sounds like you've known him a while."
"You'd be right," Morgan replied, her tone tinged with something unspoken. "I was just a girl when my parents first introduced me to him. To me, Varick was like an uncle-a steadfast figure who always put others' well-being first, even at his own expense."
Before anyone could respond, Zallar stretched his arms upward with an exaggerated yawn, his movements as theatrical as ever. "Well, I'll say this, Lady Morgan-I'm mighty glad your dear uncle offered us this free ride. By the light, it'd have taken us three days on foot to get here!"
Carly smirked, glancing around the lively port. "So, what's the plan from here?"
Morgan descended the ramp with the practiced grace of someone who had long carried burdens heavier than her travel bag. She paused at the bottom, raising a hand to point toward the horizon.
"That," she said simply, gesturing toward a towering structure in the distance-a building of formidable stone, its spires clawing at the sky.
"What, some sort of noble's home?" Zallar quipped, squinting at the edifice.
Morgan shook her head. "No. That's where we're headed. From there, we'll get the best view of the new arrivals."
"The new arrivals?" Carly's brow furrowed. "Care to elaborate?"
Morgan sighed, her weariness barely masked. "One of the individuals arriving here is an advocate from one of the nations of Vahrian. Their presence will undoubtedly complicate things."
Zallar, ever the optimist, clapped his hands together. "Then let's snag ourselves a good seat before the prime spots are gone! I want the finest view of our soon-to-arrive 'guests.'" Without waiting for a reply, he hurried off, his enthusiasm contagious.
___
The twenty-sixth floor of the grand building thrummed with life. Extravagant chandeliers cast their golden light across the vast room, illuminating the chaos of voices, clinking glasses, and spirited laughter. Though the floor housed plenty of rooms for travelers seeking rest, few came here for sleep. Instead, it was the promise of the finest ales, strongest spirits, and an escape from the monotony of life that drew the crowd. This wasn't just an inn-it was *the* alehouse for those who wished to drink until walking home became an impossible feat.
In the center of the room, a boy with tousled dirty-blonde hair weaved his way through the throng. His small frame struggled against the sea of legs and backs to folks far too large for him to squeeze past. Pausing mid-step, he clutched the strap of his tattered satchel, counting to himself silently. *One... two... three...* At ten, he lunged forward, darting through a narrow gap in the crowd and landing in a tumble on the other side.
Rising quickly, he brushed dirt from his patched trousers. But his eyes were fixed on his true target-*the roast chicken.* Sitting on a table laden with food, it glistened invitingly, its aroma wafting through the room like a siren's call.
The boy's movements turned calculated, his mischievous smirk betraying his intent. Ducking behind barrels and creeping along walls, he moved with the skill of one used to skirting the edges of notice. Finally, he slipped beneath the long banquet table, his heart pounding as he positioned himself just below the platter. Inch by inch, he rose, his fingers stretching towards the steaming chicken.
"*What do you think you're doing, boy?*" The sharp voice made the boy flinch, his hand freezing mid-reach.
Looking up, he met the piercing gaze of an old man whose stature matched his own, yet radiated a presence that far exceeded his size. The man's weathered face crinkled with displeasure, and his hands rested firmly on his hips. His withering stare made it clear the boy's antics were far from welcomed.
Before the boy could stammer out an excuse, the heavy oak doors of the room swung open with an audible *thud*. Heads turned, conversations hushed, and a group of figures entered with an air that demanded attention.
Leading the group was a dwarf, his broad shoulders bristling with axes, hammers, and-unusually-a musket slung across his back. Beside him walked a hooded girl whose sleek bow and quiver marked her as an archer. Her sharp eyes scanned the room from beneath her cloak, ever watchful. Following them was a girl with silken black hair, a wooden staff in hand and an odd, catlike creature perched on her shoulder. The creature blinked lazily at the crowd, utterly unimpressed by their stares.
Then a man, standing at an average height of around six foot, outfit being one that closely reminds the folks of that of a cloaked figure, all tattered and cut around. The man held with himself a vibe of pure confidence as he strode along with his group.
Behind them strode a woman clad entirely in black, her dark robes flowing with every step. She carried herself with the silent menace of someone accustomed to power, her presence amplified by the two figures who flanked her. And then a second, a woman dressed in a green and black UNSC military combat uniform, looked as though she'd stepped out of another world entirely. The armored vest across her chest bore scratches from battles hard-fought. Beside her stood a man in camo green sleeves and faded brown jeans, his boots worn but sturdy, a testament to endless miles traveled.
But the final figure was the one who stole every gaze. A giant, clad in armor that shimmered faintly under the chandelier's light, stepped forward. His imposing height cast long shadows across the room, and his every movement was deliberate, each footfall resonating like a drumbeat in the silent tavern.
"Kid!"
The boy froze, his heart hammering as a hand tapped firmly on his shoulder. Turning, he saw the old dwarf looming above him. Despite the elder's short stature, his presence filled the room.
"Yes, sir?" the boy stammered, his nerves as evident as the dirt smudges on his cheeks.
"You're lucky I care too much for you, lad." The dwarf's voice was gruff but carried an undercurrent of warmth. Reaching over, he handed the boy the bowl of roasted chicken. "Here, take it. Feed your friends. I've got some guests to meet."
The boy's face lit up with unrestrained joy. "Thank you so much! You won't regret this!" Clutching the bowl like a treasure, he dashed off, weaving through the crowd and skimming past the newcomers who had just arrived.
The old dwarf, clearing his throat, adjusted his tunic and peered up at the group before him. "Greetings! Welcome to my humble, old tavern. What can I do for you?" His voice boomed over the din, catching the attention of nearby patrons.
The group exchanged glances, silently electing their spokesperson. Morgana stepped forward, her presence composed yet authoritative. "Greetings, sir. My companions and I have just arrived in Everolden. We're seeking rooms-preferably on the thirteenth floor or higher-for a two-night stay. Do you have any vacancies?"
The dwarf stroked his beard, pondering her request before ducking beneath the counter. The sound of shuffling papers and clinking mugs filled the brief silence, until he emerged with a thick, leather-bound ledger. Flipping through its timeworn pages, he muttered to himself before looking up.
"I'm afraid most of the upper rooms are taken. The lower floors have space, but those rooms only fit two or three folks."
Before Morgana could respond, Carly leaned over the counter, shoving Collon aside in her eagerness. "We'll take anything on the fifteenth floor," she declared. "Surely the seven of us won't mind squeezing in, right?"
"Uh, yeah... sure," Collon replied, shrugging.
"Works for me!" Zallar grinned, nudging Purlan, who giggled and high-fived him.
All eyes turned to the Spartan, who gave a silent nod of approval. That settled, Morgana turned back to the dwarf and tossed a jingling pouch of coins onto the counter. "This should cover us," she said with confidence.
The dwarf's eyes gleamed as he weighed the pouch in his hand. It was a fortune by any measure. With an appreciative nod, he stashed the coins in a sturdy chest below the counter. "Milady!" he called, his voice carrying across the room. "Come show these fine guests to their room!"
From the shadows of a side path, a dwarven woman emerged. Her French-braided hair shone beneath the warm lights, and her attire-somewhere between that of a waitress and an adventurer-hinted at someone capable of far more than serving drinks. Muscles bulged subtly beneath her sleeves, and her gaze was sharp as steel.
After placing a final mug in front of a patron, she approached the group with a no-nonsense air. "Hun, the keys, please," she said to her husband.
The dwarf handed her the key ring, muttering, "Don't forget to get the staff to serve our guests some food."
"I'll stay here for a bite," Collon declared, already eyeing the steaming platters being delivered to other tables.
"Same here," Zallar said, slapping a hand against the Spartan's armor. "What about you, big guy?"
All eyes turned to the Spartan once more. Five's unreadable visor reflected the tavern lights as he contemplated. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, Deha's voice chimed in, bypassing him entirely.
"Say yes, Koa. You haven't eaten in days." The AI's tone was equal parts exasperated and maternal.
"I have eaten," Five retorted quietly.
"MREs don't count. Just because you *can* survive on plastic-wrapped food doesn't mean you *should*. Your taste buds deserve better," Deha countered. Her argument was bolstered by the Spartan's own fatigue with the monotony of military rations.
Relenting, Five exhaled heavily. He gave Zallar a curt nod, signaling his agreement. The dwarf's grin widened as he led the Spartan, Collon, and Purlan to a nearby table.
As they walked, whispers spread like wildfire. Patrons glanced their way, some in awe, others feigning disinterest but clearly watching. Five's towering form drew the most attention, his armored frame both alien and commanding.
"Why do they look at us like we're strangers?" Purlan asked, her voice cutting through the quiet tension.
Zallar chuckled. "Because, little one, we're practically celebrities to these folk."
Settling at the table, the group waited eagerly as the aroma of roasted meats and fresh bread filled the air. Five remained standing, his imposing figure a sentinel among the seated.
The waitress arrived swiftly, balancing platters laden with steaming dishes. She placed the food before them with practiced grace, her curiosity clearly piqued by the eclectic group. "You folks new here?" she asked, her tone warm but probing.
"Yeah, you could say that," Collon replied, tearing into an unfamiliar cut of meat with enthusiasm.
The waitress turned her gaze upward, addressing Five. Her neck craned as she strained to meet his visor. "And you, sir?"
Without a word, Five reached for a bowl of soup, lifting it with ease. To the group's astonishment, he grasped his helmet and twisted it slightly, breaking the seal with a faint hiss. He raised it just enough to expose his jaw, keeping the rest of his face hidden.
The waitress blinked, startled but composed. Collon tapped Five's side, nudging him. "Hey, man, she's waiting for your answer."
Setting the bowl down, Five finally spoke. "I am new here," he said evenly. "What else do you wish to know?"
"Why, you and your friends here for trouble?" the waitress asked, her voice steady, with not a hint of fear.
Five regarded her quietly, his respect for her boldness evident in the deliberate softening of his tone as he replied. "No, ma'am. My group and I are looking for someone. Someone... important." He paused, his visor reflecting the tavern's dim light as his gaze flicked to Collon. The man's exaggerated expression of incredulity was impossible to miss, but Five ignored it, instead focusing on the task at hand. His voice remained even as he continued. "A child. About four foot three inches tall. Brown hair, light brown eyes, brown skin. She wore a silver bracelet on her left arm."
The waitress tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing as she sifted through her memories. After a moment, she shook her head with a sigh. "Sorry, mate. Can't say I've seen any child like that. As you can see, there's plenty of kids runnin' about this part of town, but truth be told, I spend most of my time here, serving customers. If she's been through, she didn't stop long enough for me to notice."
"Waitress! A drink! Hurry it up, will ya?" a man slurred from across the room, his words carrying the distinct edge of drunken impatience.
She groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose with evident frustration. "How about you get your own this time, Balian?" she shot back, her disdain clear as day. Turning back to Five and his companions, she forced a tight smile. "Apologies. Those Balians are a bloody nuisance-always sticking their noses where they don't belong, doing whatever pleases 'em. By the light, I don't know why the lady herself even allows those scoundrels-"
Her sentence trailed off as she caught herself, her lips pressing into a thin line as if she'd already said too much. Her eyes darted briefly to the side before focusing on the Spartan again. "Anyway," she said, clearing her throat, "if you're lookin' for someone, you might want to ask around the marketplace. Just be careful-things've been... tense, lately."
Zallar, who had been quietly observing the exchange, leaned closer and muttered under his breath, "I'll bet the Balians are part of it."
Five, ever perceptive, noted the shift in her tone and the guarded look that crossed her face. Her mention of "the lady" and her hesitance hinted at an underlying tension in this otherwise lively town. He didn't press her further, though his mind filed the information away for later consideration.
Unfortunately, as hopeful as five and his group was looking forth for a non confron'al quarrel's against anyone, the same man that had called out to the waitress got up from his seat and started walking over to where the spartan and his companions are.
"Oh boy, here we go again!" Uttered deha already seeing the expected steps of where this route was about to go.
"You and me both." Five said replying to the A.I.
With barely any strength to help keep stable himself on a straight walk, the man continues on forth to the point where he almost fell to the floor. Luckily, one of his colleagues held him by their shoulders.
"Aren't you a little too drunk to be walking?" The waitress says crossing her arms as she didn't expect anything different from the man and his friends.
The man, having been able to gather himself, simply stepped forth with a finger pointed at her. "Who are you to talk to me like that huh!?"
The tavern's warmth offered no comfort, its fire crackling weakly against the heavy air that hung over the room. The waitress stood her ground, a tray clenched tight in her hands as though the pressure might keep her anger at bay. Her eyes locked on the balian man, unyielding, fiery. The room stilled around them, patrons frozen in anticipation of the storm brewing between the two.
"You can talk however you like, but don't forget-this isn't your turf," she said, her voice sharp as a blade. "Everolden isn't home to the likes of you."
The balian man tilted his head back, his snicker growing into a cruel, booming laugh that filled the room like thunder. His companions grinned, mirroring his insolence. Slowly, he raised a hand and gestured toward her with mocking flair, as if bestowing some gift.
"You know, it's funny you say that, woman," he began, his voice thick with patronizing amusement. "You've clearly forgotten-or maybe you're just too blind to see-that soon, Everolden and all its precious little treasures will belong to us. Why do you think Lady Pelkan herself is eager to meet the royals, hmm? She knows what's coming."
The waitress stiffened, her breath catching for a moment as his words cut deeper than she cared to admit. It was true-the mayor's grip on the town was faltering, and the steady trickle of townsfolk disappearing felt more like an ominous tide than a mere coincidence.
The king, the husband and partner to his queen, mayor pelkan of Everolden.
Pelkan having to be queen and mayor of her hometown was both quite disheartening and arduous'ly severe, not because she can't help her hometown, but her having to have a crucial amount of time in the work of gaining aid in times like this.
"A Woman of her status wouldn't stoop down to such a scoundrels like you and your goon of a king." The waitress told the Balian man in pure abhorrence.
"Ha! King, a king." The Balian man repeated again, as he then leaned forth face three feet in length close to the waitress. "Wheres yours at huh, where's your king, huh! I tell you where he's at, dead, six feet on the grounds of alnus hil-
The man could not get the chance to finish his sentence as before his bottom and upper lips touches each other again, a fist coming from a straight left hand of the woman sent the balian man crashing through a couple of people that were watching the scene. The two other balian foot soldiers were shocked by what just occurred, not only have they been enjoying themselves in on the commotion going between their friend and the woman, but it was just so unexpected, that one of their own was sent crashing just from a single punch of the woman.
Luckily, they were able to catch on how she was able to demonstrate such feat from a single hit of her fist. As they glanced down, their eyes widened slightly out of pure delight.
The waitress, upon observing the actions of the two men, swiftly retracted her hands and covered them with a piece of her clothing. She is aware that her actions were unusual, but upon hearing the remarks made by the other man she sent rolling regarding the king, she became overwhelmed by animosity in that moment and acted out of anger. The anger she wished she had control in spite against the bastard she had no sympathy of striking.
"You bore the same magic as that of our slaves." The depraved Balians told the woman, as his hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword. "You have either two choices, surrender yourself to us, or two, you give us the honor of removing your filth from the face of this world, just as we did your people." The balian knight spoke in detest towards the waitress.
Before the second Balians could've pulled his own sword out, a mug came flying over and struck him on the face. The man having his face being burnt by the hot liquid of the drink simply brushes aside the brown liquids of the hot alebeer and turned to face two newcomers who stride forth and stood beside the waitress.
"Well at least you don't have to step in this time." Deha concurred pleased that her spartan doesn't have to put himself infront of others this time.
"Somehow I doubt that." A Nonchalant five told Deha but doubt that her statement to be of any truth at all on the situation at hand.
"You wound me." Quipped a derided deha, responding mockingly to her carrier's words.
"I Do not need any rescue from you two." The waitress said to zallar and collon.
"Don't tell me that, I'm just following in the footsteps of old gramps over there." Collon replied to the lady as he had hands balled up into a boxing stance.
Meanwhile zallar was questioning whether he should use his ace to cut down these ill malevolent Balians, but deduced that idea, as it wouldn't fair pretty well for him. Deciding to go with another choice, the dwarf snatched a nearby broom, broke the head, separating it from the rest of it, afterwards he started spinning it around like a bowstaff.
Snickering at the scene infront of them, the Balians soldier was somewhat hesitant, but then surely out of pure luck, more of them joined in on the action.
"YA Think you should join in?" Deha said speaking to the Spartan.
"No, not yet." Five told her.
"You, I know you!" One of the newly arrived Balians soldiers says finger pointed at the Spartan.
Sighing deeply to himself, five was wishing to eat and finish his soup without even intersecting with the other two fools, but seeing as how one of the Balians recognized him, it immediately made five recall back to the past few days, back in the city of Arenian.
"Remember this guy." Deha said as she made a holographic photo of a certain individuals, ones he's met before.
"The ones back in lady nasder's shops. Yes I do." Five replied to the A.I. "Looks like I won't be finishing this soup."
"Finish it later, fight now." Deha told him as she gave a cheer onward, with a sudden change of mood, glad her spartan was about to indulge himself in on the action.
Both collon and zallar turned back to the Spartan, seeing that the he was joining them in on the fun, the two with a smirk on their faces the turned back on the numbers of Balians surrounding them in a circle.
"So, you ladies wanna attack first or w-
"We will!" Zallar said cutting the agent off as he leaped upward and headbutted one foe in the forehead.
"Nevermind." Collin said sidestepping back and then to his left, allowing an attempt spear stab to pass by him. "Miss me buddy."
Before the Balians could've responded to the next attack, he was suddenly struck in the exposed area, right where his neck was.
"Smart move, I suggest attacking the exposed part of their armor is the best way in breaking them down, slowly." Five uttered while also giving a word of compliment to the man.
"Thank you big green. On your left!" Collon warned as he dodges another attack.
With a curt nod, Five's armored arm surged upward, his movements fluid and calculated. The enemy scarcely had a chance to react as his sword was ripped from his grip, clattering to the far side of the room with a metallic ring. His surprise was palpable, a fatal pause that Five capitalized on effortlessly. With a sharp shove, the Spartan drove him backward—not with brute force, but with enough precision to unsteady him, forcing him into an awkward stumble.
Five's voice reverberated through the room, firm and unyielding. "If you Balians value your bones intact, the door's that way," he commanded, gesturing briefly to the exit. His tone, cold as steel, left little room for debate. "But if you're stupid enough to keep going, step forward and make peace with your regret."
Amidst the tension, one of the Balians staggered to his feet, wiping blood and sweat from his battered face. His gaze burned with defiance as he sneered, "Strength doesn't make you invincible, Spartan. You're not the only one full of surprises."
Five's muscles tensed as a ripple of unease swept over him. His instincts flared—a heightened awareness that made every detail in the room sharp and vivid. He searched for movement, for sound, for any sign of the promised attack, his senses alive yet unable to pinpoint the threat. His grip tightened slightly, unease gnawing at the edges of his focus.
Then, the glass shattered.
Dark purple lightning sliced through the air, its violent crackle like the growl of a storm. The shards fell like jagged rain, their glittering edges refracting the chaos in the room. Five moved without hesitation. In one swift motion, he hurled himself toward Purlan, his armored forearms raised as a barrier. The lightning struck with ferocious impact, dancing along the surface of his suit and sending waves of distortion rippling through his armor.
"Shield capacity: ninety-eight percent!" Deha's voice blared in his ear, urgent and sharp. "That's not good!"
"Handling it," Five grunted, snatching a wooden table and hurling it out the window to intercept the next wave of attack. The explosion came with deafening force, rattling the very foundations of the room. Screams erupted from outside, cries of panic echoing through the chaos.
Purlan shielded her face instinctively, crouched low behind the Spartan's imposing figure. Five stood steadfast, unwavering against the blast. He turned sharply, catching sight of Zallar, whose frantic yell sliced through the noise like a blade. "Five! Behind you!"
Confusion flickered in Five's eyes as he glanced toward Zallar, only to catch sight of it—a swirling green energy at his feet, circling rapidly like a predator closing in on its prey. Above him, another identical ring appeared, humming ominously. Five's breath tightened in his chest as he realized what it meant. Without hesitation, he scooped up Purlan and lunged to safety, his movements precise and sharp.
The magic circles collided in a flash of light and vanished into nothingness. Five's mind raced, recalling the exact same phenomenon he'd faced during the hunt for the basilisk—a transportive spell, a trap conjured by a witch or wizard. Not for harm, but to displace. Five gritted his teeth; magic was the one variable he could never fully control, yet he knew the lesson well—adaptation was the key to survival.
As he rose up from the landing after he had jumped out of the harms way, the Spartan glanced around at the surrounding Balians, while some were dealing with zallar and colon and that of the waitress, most the other Balians foot soldiers surrounded him and purlan. With swords, spears and weapons of any kinds were raised towards the two of them, the Balians all the rushes both five and purlan.
However, to their misfortune, a shadowy smoke of chains started appearing from all over the taverns walls, floor and ceiling. Some even appeared from any corners that harbors even the smallest shadow.
Groans of those restrained in place was surfacing all over the tavern as Balians were attempting to free themselves, yet due to their current situations, they were sadly not able to break away at any given time.
Familiar with this kind of work, the Spartan moved his head as his helm faced where morgana, Carly and melvinia were walking. The magic as five can see was eerily different then the ones he's witnessed, however, he guessed that there are far more to this mythical abilities then he knows of. Seeing as how he notices any of the restrained Balians soldiers were all forced to get down on their knees by just a simple gesture of Morgan's hands.
Sighing in appreciation, five bowed his head towards Morgan in thanks for her help. He didn't wanna have to force himself to face these Balians, but after what had previously happened, he'd just got no choice but to indulge himself in on the fight.
While walking next to the Spartan, purlan waved at her mother morgana in a cheery mood. "Mommy, look, I just got into my first bar fight."
"I Can see that sweetie." An Elated Morgan spoke pleased to see her girl unharmed.
Regrettably for the mother and daughter pair, despite the beauty of their moment together, the spartan had little to no opportunity to evaluate their environment before Deha's voice interrupted once more.. "Five! New energy signals forming—this time, there's six!"
The circles appeared in rapid succession: two flanking his left and right sides, followed by two others that appeared in his front and back as well, and then as he last expected too late, two more above and below, and finally the last two sealing off his escape in front and behind. The trap was tightening. His pulse surged as he acted on instinct, his thoughts quick as lightning, with this many circular energy at this close of a range, five understood that it would be far too late for him to escape it. And so with his last act of quick valance he immediately done what was necessary. With a swift movement he grabbed purlan lightly and tosses her on over an incoming green circular energy and towards Morgana, his grip firm enough to ensure she landed safely but soft enough to avoid harm.
The circles converged, closing in on Five as their energy swallowed him whole. In an instant, the Spartan vanished, leaving only the faint hum of magic lingering in the air.
The room fell eerily quiet. The Balians froze, the sound of battle replaced by a tense stillness. Morgana's expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on the spot where the Spartan had stood. Purlan, stunned but unharmed, looked up at Morgana and whispered, "Mommy, is he coming back?"
Morgana, feeling apprehensive, was uncertain about the reason for her fear, yet she was somehow frightened by the Spartan's whereabouts. The man was of the same looks as that of her father, she guessed that with their similarly, it made her concern for his safety.
"Mom! Can you hear me!?" Purlan said calling out to Morgan. "Are you okay?"
Shaking her head for a short time, Morgan then looked down at her daughter. "Yes sweety, I'm okay. And yeah I can hear you."
"You think the man will be okay?" A Worried purlan asked once again.
Stepping past her, Carly went and bent down to survey the very spot five was once in, before he dissappeared that is.
As she was checking the floor, she noticed a flickering light of blue that beeps once every few seconds. A Smile crept up in her face. "Smart bastard."
Morgan and the others saw the oni agent and were interest in what she was doing. Trekking towards her they got a closer look at what Carly had in the palm of her hand.
Collon seeing this utter the first words in an inquiry. "What you found Carly?"
Seeing no harm in it, the oni agent spread her right hand flat and simply spoke. "You can come out now, it's alright. Deha."
Wondering on why the woman was speaking to a blinking metal of blue light, the group were a bit confused as to why the oni agent was doing it.
"I Don't get it, why are you speaking to a chip for?" Questioned Collon.
Seconds later, after a few moments, what transpired next caught everyone off guard. From the very palm of carly's right hand a small sized holographic form of a woman dressed in a cowgirl outfit, holding what seems to be a long double barrel stood.
"How do you know my name?" Deha said face forward as she stated directly at Carly.
"Wait, what the he** is that!" Uttered Collon in disbelief wondering if what he was seeing is true or not.
Carly glanced at Collon seeing the expression he and the others were sharing. "This is Deha, she's a very important figure. And she will help us locate where five had just been sent to."
Using the long barrel shotgun as an imaginary staff to hold herself while standing, deha kept her gaze on the oni agent. "Carly, you need to call the others, call those in the unsc base."
Morgan, Melvinia, Zallar, and the others, all gazed at Carly, questioning the direction of the conversation, of where this is going.
"Why?" Carly said asking deha out of interest.
Before deha could've spoken, she paused in place and scoured each and every faces in within the tavern. Not wanting to speak of something this crucial, at this much of eyes and ears around them, the A.I. sent a message to carly's wrist coms.
Carly pulled up her left sleeve, and the words displayed on the screen of her wrist com captured her immediate attention.
"Innies are here. They are watching."
"Excuse me!" Carly said as she walked off and away from the morgana and the group.
"Carly wait!" Collon said calling after her as he and the others followed after the oni agent.
__________
Carly stepped into the dimly-lit back room, her grip firm on the flat, rectangular device. The sleek screen glowed faintly as she tapped through encrypted layers to find the number she needed. The air felt charged, thick with urgency, but her concentration didn't falter.
Before she could press "dial," the heavy doors burst open behind her. Morgan strode in, flanked by Zallar and the rest of the team. Their expressions were stern; their eyes sharp, seeking answers.
"Zallar, lock the door," Morgan commanded. Her voice carried the weight of authority.
The stout dwarf complied without hesitation, bolting the heavy wooden door. "Alright, lass. Spit it out—what's the matter?" His gravelly voice filled the room.
Carly's eyes narrowed. "It's none of your concern. The information I have is classified. Please, understand that this is confidential."
Zallar huffed indignantly, but Collon stepped forward, his presence calm yet probing. "Classified? Carly, I've dealt with enough classified matters to know how to handle them. Don't patronize us. What's on that device of yours?"
Before Carly could reply, the screen flickered. A small, glowing figure emerged—a translucent image humming with faint energy.
"Name's Deha," the voice declared, cutting the silence like a blade. "That's what y'all can call me."
Melvinia stepped closer, wide-eyed as she studied the shimmering form. "What are you… some sort of fae?"
Deha tilted her glowing head slightly, a spark of indignation in her response. "No, kid, I ain't no fae or fairy of any kind. I'm what you call artificial intelligence—or AI, for short. Let's keep it simple."
The room stirred uneasily, the weight of Deha's words settling on them. Morgan crossed her arms, her gaze unyielding. "Do you know where the Spartan was sent through that portal?"
Deha lowered her head, her flickering form dimming. "Wish I did, ma'am. But I don't. That portal—it was magic. And where it took Spartan Five… well, that's beyond anything I can trace. When the portal began to close, I managed to pick up a signal. But as for who or what is responsible… I can only share that with ONI Agent Carly. Sorry."
The group muttered amongst themselves, tension thick in the air. But before they could press further, a voice crackled into the room, slicing through the stillness.
"This is Malcolm Davidson," the man declared from Carly's device. "What've you got for us, Agent?"
Carly exhaled sharply, her voice filled with urgency. "Malcolm, I need to speak with the Vice Admiral. Something significant's just come up. Can you patch me through?"
"Affirmative," came Malcolm's swift reply. "Stand by."
Clicks and tones filled the room as the transmission bridged—an uneasy prelude to the unknown. The group watched Carly closely, their shadows stretching against the flickering light.
__________
Greenforst Village Town
P.O.V.
Miranda Keyes
As she was strolling alongside Sandra and two members of team wolf pack, Miranda they were admiring the beauty that the town had.
She figured this is what it's like in many of the colony worlds back on unsc UEG space. Of course mainly because some worlds chose the farming life, and not wanting to dwell themselves with that of their people on technology.
Besides her left was Elizabeth who was apparently speaking with the farm elven man. "You two seem to be quite fond of each other." Miranda says interrupting the two lovebirds.
Elizabeth shouldered Miranda lightly with her elbow. "Hey let a girl have some fun. We can't all always be alone forever."
"So where exactly are we going to ma'am?" Spartan jane-A203 inquired as without breaking her sight from any of the surrounding areas.
"We are going to be meeting up with some of the twenty first century folks. Harrow, a very nice lady had asked that I meet with her fir- speak of the devil, there she is!" Miranda uttered as she saw Jane harrow making her way towards Miranda along with a few people beside her.
"Greetings admiral, it is good to see you again. Oh!" Harrow said noticing two new figures amongst Miranda and her family. "And to who might you two be?"
The Spartan tapped on his left chest armor. "Spartan Robert, A057 ma'am."
"And I am spartan jane-A203." The female spartan said surprising harrow in the process of her introduction.
"You'll have to forgive Jane here, she's not used to meeting big giant robots armored ladies. I am Troy, this here is frank Woods, that over are Russell, sevati and lastly Felix, our team cooks." Troy said in slight humor.
"Nice to meet you ladies and gentleman." Spartan Robert said in a remark.
Seeing as how they've already introduced each other, Miranda turned to Troy and harrow. "So, to what reason did you gu-
She couldn't even finish her sentences as a ringing sound transpired, cutting her off. Feeling a bit irritated, Miranda pulls out her phone and answered. "Yes, this Miranda speaking, who's is this?"
"Madam vice admiral, you have a requested phone call from one of the oni agents that across Vahrian, she wishes to speak with you ma'am." Malcom, the transponder technician at the UNSC base, responded to her.
"Put me through, I'll see what she has to say."
"Gladly ma'am." Malcom says in an instant as he did what was asked. "Aaand there it is, your all good ma'am."
"Hello admiral, this oni agent Carly, can you hear me."
"Yes, I can hear you very clear agent Carly. Tell me, what's so important that you have to call me on my day off?" Miranda question as she was expecting to relax herself in one of the very first place she actually loved.
"Apologies admiral, but I'm afraid your vacation is gonna have to be postponed." Carly responded back in earnestly as she paused for a moment and then spoke once more. "Ma'am, they are here."
"Who the Covenant, or the banished?" Added Miranda with slight concern, fearing either one of the two have already made their way here.
"No ma'am, luckily. I'm glad either one of those two are who I'm referring to. No, instead, the insurrectionist have somehow made their way down here on this planet." Carly told Miranda uncertain of how the vice admiral would react to the news.
"The insurrectionist are here!?" Miranda said loud enough to where harrow and her family, as well as the two spartans could hear her.
"Insurrectionist, what are they doing here!?" Sandra spoke gaining the attention of the twenty first century's.
"Wha- are you sure about that agent Carly?" Miranda says a bit off by the bomb of a news.
"Yes ma'am, I'm afraid so."
"How do you know of this. How did you manage to get this info?" Questioned Miranda with uncertainty in the tone of her voice.
"Ma'am, it was Spartan Koa, Sierra Zero Zero Five A.I. partner who informed me, and I assure you, she is telling the truth." Carly said speaking while Miranda could hear deha's voice coming through Miranda's wrist com.
Those of Sandra Lopez, her family, spartan Jane and Robert, plus harrow and her group all heard the voice of the A.I. Speaking.
"Good evening ladies and gents. Hello vice admiral, it is good to see you again." Deha said talking in a texant accent modified by her choosing.
"Good to see you again Deha." Miranda said in reply as she turned to look at Sandra. "Mom, this is Deha, your son koa's A.I. Partner, she's been working with five for as long as I can remember."
Sandra being the calm person she is doing didn't know what to say, at first she was willing to just stand by and listened in on the conversation, but after hearing what Miranda had just informed her of, Sandra closed herself into the vice admiral and held her arm as she then spoke.
"Hello Ms. Deha, I'm Sandra, koa's mother. Is he with you now?" Sandra asked with the hope of speaking with him at this moment, as she was uncertain about his response. "I'd like to speak with him, please."
"Im Sorry, he is not with me. He, he was takened."
"Takened, what happened?" Miranda and Sandra both said at the same time.
"It's kind of hard to say. You see, Koa was just with me not just long ago... But, unfortunately, something had happened, Koa was swallowed whole by some sort of magic portal. Now I know that sounds ridiculous, but that's exactly what happened. Though I do not know where he's at, but I can say that he'll do just fine on his own."
♤~ ♡ ~♧