//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: MIA // by Gravitys Rainboom //------------------------------// Prologue “Don’t deny me this.” Noble Five clasped his hand around that of the gray armored Spartan in front of him. Lifting the super soldier with ease, the seven foot behemoth slowly made his way to the edge of the hangar, where the abyss fell before them. The orange Spartan looked at his gray companion’s face, only to see the reflection of his own visor on Noble Six’s helmet. Noble Five closed the distance between them and the edge of the platform at a painfully sluggish pace. Despite this, he still arrived much sooner than he would have liked. “Tell ‘em to make it count,” he grunted as he threw his brother-in-arms out of the hangar and into the cold emptiness of space. Noble Five watched as Noble Six floated off to the surface of the planet below them. Smaller and smaller he got, until he was completely engulfed by the green sphere behind him, leaving the orange armored soldier truly on his own. The human slowly raised his head and looked at the planet that had once been his home. The continents were obscured by white clouds that, from the Corvette’s perspective, looked like nothing more than wisps of white smoke, dancing and swimming over the surface of the planet. Massive hurricanes formed and collided with swirling seas of white and dark menacing storms. The flashes from their lightning carried so much raw power that even from orbit they were a frighteningly beautiful sight, demonstrating the destructive force that nature possessed. The planet was also covered with enormous bodies of crystalline water, which shone in the sun’s rays like oceans of diamond. Noble Five knew that these seas were home to some of the most breathtaking and diverse ecosystems in the known universe, but from his distance they looked no more magnificent than puddles after a light drizzle. The continents themselves were various tones of bright or muddy greens, demonstrating just how much vegetation still covered the planet’s land formations. Millions of acres of forest carpeted the orb, creeping up the planet like a vine’s tendrils, before being stopped by the pure white of the Reach’s frigid poles. To complete the sight, the planet was located near a turquoise nebula, which shifted and wisped its way around the orb, giving the entire thing an aura similar to that of the famed Aurora Borealis back on Earth. The entire sight was almost enough to distract one from the fires that burned on the planet’s surface… …almost Half of the planet was engulfed in an orange inferno, which threatened to turn the surface, and everything on it, to glass. To the unbiased eye, the sight itself may have held a sort of haunting beauty, as the dark side of the sphere was aglow with red and orange light, which provided a nice contrast to the blue and green of the rest of the planet. To the soldier looking down at it from the corvette however, there were few sights more horrifying. Still, he managed to tear his gaze away from the destruction long enough to admire the magnificence of the planet for what he assumed would be the last time. “Köszönöm,” he whispered softly to himself as he looked at his home for the last time. He slowly turned his back on the planet, and picked up his helmet from the floor. Placing it back on his head, the soldier stopped for a moment to take in the scene in front of him. The hangar of the ship was an utter mess. Dozens of corpses, both Human and Covenant, littered the colossal room, and gore spattered almost every surface of the smooth and previously pristine docking bay. Out of the half of dozen troops sent in to clear the ship, only Noble Six and Noble Five had managed to survive. Fighting in such close quarters had been intense, and the results were far from pleasant. The Spartan took a deep breath, and examined the carnage. Near the Pelican, a few feet away from him, were the remains of a Marine, whose chest had been torn open by a direct hit from a fuel rod cannon blast. Nearby, her crimson blood pooled and mixed with the purple bodily fluids of a Sangheili Ranger, who had the unfortunate circumstance of being right next the human soldier when the explosive hit. The Spartan remembered that particular Sangheili. Its legs had been torn to shreds by the collateral damage of the fuel rod, and Noble Five had unceremoniously crushed its head with the heel of his boot. The soldier looked down to his feet, and sure enough, his right foot was still caked with the Ranger’s now dry blood. A few feet to his right, lay the disembodied head of another jarhead, his body mere inches away. The stump of the neck was cauterized with the signature burns of a Sangheili energy sword. The Marine’s expression was contorted in a horrific expression of anguish, the same he had no doubt worn seconds before being killed. His cold, lifeless eyes stared at the Spartan, who gazed back. “Why do you get to live?” they seemed to ask. “I don’t,” sighed Noble Five to himself. He tore his gaze away from the slaughter, and attempted to focus his attention on something else. The hangar itself was very spacious. It had two energy fields facing each other, behind which lay the coldness of space. In between both were two entrances that led to other parts of the Corvette. These doorways were surrounded by platforms and walkways, each featuring weapons lockers and plasma turrets. The entire room had a very symmetrical feel. The center of the cavernous docking bay was noticeably sparse, save for three massive Pylons that rested in its center. The room was composed of various shades of blues, greens, and reds. But one color was present above all others. “Purple,” growled the Spartan to himself. “I hate bloody purple.” For many humans, purple had become synonymous with the Covenant. It was the color of death. The color of genocide. The color that flashed out of the corner of your eye, and which usually meant instant death. The soldier was snapped out of his musings by a synthetic voice emanating from the Pelican beside him. “Thirty seconds to impact remaining.” Noble Five turned his attentions away from the hangar, and towards the gray troop carrier. Taking a deep breathe, he began making his way towards the modified Slip-Space Drive attached to the back of the ship. His steps echoed across the room, and shattered the deathly silence of the hangar. *Thump* *Thump* *Thump* Time seemed to slow for the Spartan as he neared the makeshift explosive. He was so concentrated on the task before him, that he failed to notice the sweat that beaded his forehead and trailed down his face. *Thump* *Thump* *Thump* Soon, his heart began mirroring the loud stomps of his steps. The world became muffled as blood pounded in his ears. *Thump* *Thump* He quickly found himself standing at the back of the Pelican, staring at the device that would be the cause of his demise. The most expensive and technologically advanced thing ever created by humanity, and he was about to blow it up for the sake of his home planet. There must have been some sort of irony in that, he thought. The Shaw-Fujikawa was a sight to behold; at the very least, he was using something visually impressive to kill himself. And it was only fitting that he, the heavy weapons expert of Noble Team. be the one to activate it. Maybe that was the irony of the situation? He didn’t know. The Spartan took a deep breath, and lifted his armored arm. Slowly extending his finger, he neared the detonation switch in anticipation: It was, un-ironically, a big red button. The Spartan couldn’t help but crack a very faint, and somewhat nervousness, grin at the cliché. It was always a big red button. As his finger grazed the tip of the switch, a blue spark shot out from the device and shocked him. The static traveled up and down his spine, and there was a fuzzy after effect that kept the hairs on the back of his neck erect. The soldier recoiled from the drive and examined it with confusion. Discounting the fact that the Slip-Space Drive was not supposed to be emitting sparks (much less shocks of electricity), he should not have felt the jolt through his armor. The human leaned on the Pelican and released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. A cold pang pierced his chest. He looked back at the piles of mutilated corpses that littered the hangar. The soldier tried swallowed, but his throat had gone painfully dry. “Fifteen seconds to impact remaining.” He turned around and gazed out through the force-field behind him, and towards the Reach. The planet looked larger now, but colors were less vibrant. The clouds looked less lively, the continents less lush, and the oceans less crystalline. Everything appeared to be washed in a dull, gray, ash-colored hue. Everything, except the fires, which burnt brighter than ever before; their hellish flames glowing maliciously as dark tendrils of smoke slithered from the surface. The Spartan’s fist tightened in anger. He straightened himself, and faced the Slip-Space Drive. “Ten” His foot echoed a final time as he took a single, last step forward. “Nine” He raised his hand once more… “Eight” …gently placed his finger on the big red button… “Seven” …and closed his eyes. “Six” His breathing was steady. “Five” His heart rate was slow and tranquil. “Four” His muscles were completely relaxed. “Three” He took one last deep breath, making sure to savor the filtered and artificial air. “Two” “Búcsú,” he whispered. “One” *Click* The Spartan was instantly blinded by a white light that erupted from the machine. He felt like he had just had a flash bang go off in his face. He was utterly blind. Suddenly, as quickly as the light came, it was gone; only to be replaced by an expanding dark sphere that was heading straight for him. Pain was all he felt as the darkness engulfed him. It was as if every single molecule in his body was trying to shoot off into every direction at once. The soldier felt cold, so cold it burned. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn't feel anything but the searing pain that now wracked his body. He tried to scream, but there was nothing to scream with. It was as if his body was no longer there, and was instead vaporized into oblivion, while his mind was forced to linger and suffer in this dark hell. The pain continued for what felt like hours, never letting up. The agony gradually began to intensify. The Spartan was long past the point where he cared about anything. All his wants, his emotions and desires were gone, along with his body, and all that was left was this torment that was afflicting him. At last the pain reached its crescendo, and, as suddenly as it had started, the pain ceased in a final flash of white light. And then… …nothing. Jorge was gone.