Chapter Text
Installation 08, Control Room
December 11, 2552 22:50 Hours
"I'm getting you out of here."
"N-No… No, you're not."
The searing pain had long given way to the odd numbing sensation of millions of prickly needles dancing around the charred cavity that used to be his chest. He used all of his remaining strength to grab Chief's hand – passing over the storage device containing Cortana back to its rightful owner.
"Don't - don't let her go. Don't...ever let her go." He coughed one final time. "Send me out… with a bang…"
After losing every part of his body to the spreading numbness, he fell limp, and for the last time in this life, Sergeant Major Avery Jr. Johnson closed his eyes.
The Master Chief stared at the unmoving body of his friend for a moment. Another comrade… a friend , had fallen on his watch. Wordlessly, the Spartan turned around, bringing Cortana to the Forerunner console. A flickering blue hologram of his A.I companion manifested towards the console, mournfully looking back at Avery's body.
"Chief... I'm so sorry…"
The Index, kept safe by Cortana all these months, was now reunited with the Control Room, completing their objective. The act however, set off a catastrophic chain reaction across the ringworld: the consequence of activating an unfinished Halo. Rumblings began to shake the Control Room. Support beams collapsed as their pillars gave way, cascading into a symphony of destruction. A cacophony of twisting metal and glass shattering echoed around the shrinking chamber. As the platform continued tilting, Master Chief sprinted past the double doors; his ally, the Arbiter, was waiting. The almost-spent Spartan Laser slid off first, the former owner soon following suit.
Johnson's part in this tale was finally over. Chief, Arbiter and Cortana would escape this place; probably take his Warthog, drive past a million exploding things towards the Forward Unto Dawn and maybe, just maybe, fly outta there before Halo can wipe out every living thing around the Ark. Especially the Flood, as intended. There would be nothing left of the Sergeant to bury, but at least he would go out in the same spectacular fashion as he lived his entire life – a huge goddamn bang.
Did he have any regrets? Certainly, but they were going with him to whatever existed after one's end. He had seen too much death, some which could have been averted.
' If only I had been a better Marine… maybe…'
As his consciousness faded, memories – both good and bad, overwhelmed his thoughts. Walking into church with Aunt Marcille in itchy, worn-out clothes hugging his small body. Crawling in the mud with the Drill Instructor shrieking in his ear. A café blowing up through the lens of a scope, right before the shockwave rocked his entire aircraft. Blankly staring at the frozen corpse of his beloved Aunt. A drunken fistfight against nightclub bouncers. First contact with the Covenant at Harvest with the Colonial Militia. That awkward, yet sensual night spent on the deck with al-Cygni. Watching Captain Keyes, Jenkins and the rest of his men being dragged off, bodies twisted and mutated beyond human comprehension. Lord Hood proudly pinning the Colonial Cross on his dress uniform. Aiming his Battle Rifle at an uncloaking Arbiter in Delta Halo's Library. Being dragged away in the hands of a snarling Brute Captain outside the third tower on the Ark. Gently closing Miranda's eyes as he cradled her lifeless corpse in the Control Room.
And now here, he laid for the final rest – at the ass-end of the Milky Way on a newly-built ancient superweapon shaking itself apart.
'Ain't that some shit.'
He no longer felt the cold glass floor and began the final plunge. As gravity took charge, rushing air bit past his ever increasingly cold body. Vertigo and weightlessness clutched his body as he fell into the howling dark…
" Do you believe in second chances…"
' Wait, wha–'
"… Sergeant?"
Blue.
A vast sea of endless blue began creeping from the corners of his vision. As he gained clarity, an all-too familiar sensation of falling at terminal velocity seized him. As he tried to shake his limbs, he felt nothing, like he was just tagging along for the ride.
Passing through white clouds, he saw it: an sprawling metropolis as far as his eyes could see. Skyscrapers dotted the horizon. A single tower with a beam of strange white light sat prominently at the middle of it all. He had only witnessed such sights while barreling through the atmosphere like an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper: only this time he felt like he was doing this without the entry pod, which in most circumstances wasn't ideal.
' Woah, WOAH, how do I even stop this thing?' He mentally screamed.
He'd realized that the approaching ground was pretty freaking imminent and that anyone who'd find him later would have to scrape him off the floor. He shut his eyes, bracing for the splat…
But it never came. As he opened his eyes again, it became apparent he came to an abrupt stop, feet planted firmly on the ground. Clean, pristine streets greeted his vision; untouched by war or Covenant plasma bombardment. Several civilians - young girls in school uniforms dotted the street, chatting, laughing carefreely, eating ice cream, carrying bags, with shotguns or assault rifles slung on their backs…
' Wait – the hell?'
Before he could fully register the odd yet concerning sight, the scene changed.
An Oriental-styled village brimming with tradition and culture. Pink petals from numerous sakura trees filled the streets as its inhabitants celebrated some kind of festival. He felt a sense of warmth which was almost an alien sensation for him at this point. When was the last time he took a liberty pass before and during the war?
' Well, that was the time I went on a bender after TREBUCHET,' Avery shamefully recalled. The scarring image of Aunt Marcille's corpse frozen on her bed flashed by again…
The scene changed again to a cobblestone town. A jeep tearing down the street: seated inside were several laughing women, and one in particular tied up, screaming bloody murder. A positively ancient-looking tank rolling after them painted this as the most bizarre chase scene Avery had ever witnessed.
A courtyard surrounded by white buildings. A lush garden could be observed from a balcony, where three ladies sat around a long table adorned with fine silverware and delectable sweets. A platinum-haired lady with large wings on her back sipped tea with all the grace and dignity of the nobility of old, as her pink haired companion suddenly laughed vicariously. All while the third, a tiny blonde with large fox like ears quietly observed the two… before turning her head, golden eyes piercing through Avery's.
A quiet town swallowed by desert, as a lone cyclist passes by on a sandy road. A young girl wearing a blue jacket over her school uniform, a bag slung along a white assault rifle on her back. He noticed a bright halo floating just above her head, shaped almost like the reticle of a Battle Rifle's scope.
Teal eyes met with his brown ones. As the two stared each other down, an odd sense of camaraderie bounced between them. Avery recognized the feeling from his days as a Drill Instructor for the Colonial Militia. The young, but determined eyes of a lone wolf, longing for a purpose –
His stomach lurched, and he felt a sudden shift in his surroundings. The bright sand was replaced by rain and darkened skies. Warning bells in his brain went into overdrive, as an oppressive sense of dread settled in, like he was caught in an ambush from all sides. Spinning his head around, he could not identify its origin. Rain poured all around the ruins he stood in. A tablet with a broken screen laid before his feet. Red beams descended from the sky vaporizing the horizon - a planetary glassing. He'd seen countless human world engulfed in a sea of fire, igniting the atmosphere and boiling the seas.
Suddenly staring down the barrel of a black pistol, he focused behind it only to see a cold, yet familiar pair of eyes with long flowing white hair framing her figure. Darkened teal eyes emanated a pang of unfathomable sorrow and regret as she stared straight through the Sergeant's. In slow motion, the flash from the muzzle grew brighter, a small remorseless chunk of steel leaving the barrel and surely making its way directly between his eyes.
His thoughts went to his beloved Aunt, hoping to see her face again…
/: Unknown Location - /ERROR/
/: Return_Timestamp - /ERROR/
/:$&* ᓀ‸ᓂ %&$%$%$$%-
" Hello?…"
" ... You were not the only one…"
"… ma'am?"
"… To try and save them from their fate…"
" Who are you?…"
" ... and to have sought you out–"
" Ma'am, you're wounded. You need medical–"
" – even though your story is over."
" ... what are you saying?"
" That's why you're here right? 48789-20114-AJ, Sergeant Avery J. Johnson?"
"…"
" Please say the words with me."
—
" We long for the seven wailings."
" We bear the koan of Jericho."
—
" You'll probably won't remember this conversation – but if you do, I have just one last request."
" Yes ma'am?"
" Don't let her go. Don't… ever let her go…"
D.U Central, Subway Station
December 12, 2021 09:30 Hours
He felt like he was waking from cryosleep – the initially cold numbness slowly making way as a comforting warmth slowly embraced his body.
A droning noise filled his ears. ' Dear Lord, what's a Marine gotta do to get some rest?' He sleepily groaned.
The buzzing continued until he became conscious enough to recognize words. Whispers, laughter, crying and a heartfelt conversation between him and someone he'd never met in his life. They had to be a dream, because surely he'd remember who they were…
" ...next stop: D.U Central Station - Kivotos… "
Dry eyes groggily revealed themselves, like they have been shut for more than a lifetime. After rubbing them open, a blurry line of chairs and windows greeted him.
"... The hell am I?"
He stirred himself awake. Looking at his surroundings, he found himself in an empty subway. Civilization. Familiar-looking human civilization, which warranted a small sigh of relief. No squid-heads or Baby Kongs to make for awkward conversations. Aside from a bit of a backache from sleeping upright, there was no trace of any injuries he sustained from the earlier battles. The bruises he got when he was captured, then on the newly-built Halo he remembered taking on –
– Guilty Spark.
"Oh Jesus Christ–!"
Hands flew to his chest, expecting the worst burns imaginable…
But nothing. As if it didn't happen. Yet Johnson vividly recalled the searing pain from the little flying shit's betrayal. At least he got the last laugh in the form of his Spartan Laser, which Chief put to good use ending the light-bulb's existence. Speaking of which, said Laser was nowhere to be found nearby, which Avery found slightly disappointing.
So why was he still not only alive, but in a completely different place was something he could not even begin to rationalize, except for either winning the divine intervention lottery, or some other force was at work. Hell, he'd explored ancient superweapons and fought omniscient space parasite zombies, what else can the universe throw at him?
Getting up, he dusted himself off and realized he was still in his standard UNSC Marine battle kit. Vest – check. Armour plates – check. Grenades; a pair of frags and even another pair of leftover Covenant Plasma Grenades – check. One loaded M6D Magnum pistol for a sidearm and several more magazines in his pouches – check. And finally, mounted to his back was a familiar friend; his trusty M90A Shotgun. Six rounds of 8-gauge buckshot loaded plus an additional 30+ shells in his pouches. Even his familiar utility cap sat snugly on his head, which he was sure he'd lost on the Ark.
What wasn't familiar was an old-school envelope tucked beneath his plate carrier. Old twine crossed over the envelope – and woah. When was the last time he'd seen one that had a wax seal? It bore the symbol of a building towering over a cityscape. Flipping it over, neat scribbles on the back greeted him.
Sensei,
Please hand this letter over to Nanagami Rin, Vice-President of the General Student Council. She'll understand everything.
GSC President
General Student Council - 'GSC' indicated both author and recipient being some kinda big shots of some school. Questions begin to pile in his mind. Why is a school the highest authority around? Was there any UNSC presence on this planet? And who was this 'Sensei'?
An almost nostalgic feeling hit him after reading the letter, which prompted him to curiously glance back at the train seats. A vague memory kept prodding his brain… a chat with a woman in a train, which felt like a distant memory. Could it be his Aunt while on the way to church all those years ago…?
"— please… help my students… Sensei —"
Couldn't be. She sounded way younger, and had a somber tone in her plea. Plus delivering this letter seemed to feel important to him, like the duty he'd sworn to the Corps. He couldn't explain it, but the words of his Aunt always rang true in the back of his mind.
" Make me proud, do what's right. Become the man I know you can be."
The throbbing in his head only intensified the more he tried to recall those precious details. So he decided to move on to more immediate matters. Letter first, then find out what planet he ended up on. Then maybe if the war was over, he'd get home as soon as possible, to let his folks know he was okay and then report back to the UNSC. There was plenty of rebuilding needed done after what the Covenant did to his home planet.
He remembered the latest model of UNSC wrist-mounted TacPads, able to receive and relay encrypted information to a shared network. This model also had the ability to measure local temperature, humidity and even detect radiation levels. Now Johnson wasn't one of those tech geeks crawling out of their dens to buy the latest gizmo; he loved his old-school tech in fact. But when the Covenant glassed Africa and blew the orbital grid to hell, he wasn't in a hurry to refuse any last-ditch equipment handouts.
The TacPad powered up and was thankfully working fine, but unable to receive any updates. Maybe he'd get a better signal and perhaps an update topside.
A smooth voice over the intercoms interrupted his thoughts.
" ... Due to an emergency, the train has been halted at the current station. All passengers are advised to follow the station staff's instructions and evacuate in an orderly manner. The Highlander Railway Academy apologies for any inconvenience caused…"
No point staying here in this stalled train: he had to get his bearings and find out where he was exactly. Hands instinctively reached for his lighter, but with it came the crippling realization that a certain right side pouch was missing something. His response was a drawn-out sigh.
"Hmm, must've forgot to pack the extra Sweet Williams. Now ain't that a real emergency?"
Mourning over the loss of his favorite cigars, he exited onto the platform and was greeted with a well-lit, clean, yet empty station. Electronic billboards were all showing the same evacuation message: "D.U Central Station - PLEASE FOLLOW SIGNS TO NEAREST EMERGENCY EXITS". He noted how antiquated this place looked, almost as if it were trying to embody the 21st century aesthetic that the lower districts of Chicago had. Not that Johnson minded; he always had a soft spot for retro things, like flip-music.
"The hell is everybody?" Avery wondered aloud after passing a recognizable ticketing hall devoid of any station staff or security. The rhythmic clanking and weight on his back reminded him that his M90A could be a cause for concern once he realized that he was back in civilization, but no one was around to protest yet. Here's hoping his UNSC uniform would be able to lessen the general public's concerns of an armed man casually strolling by.
A nearby LED display caught his attention, and he was relieved to see a fellow human on-screen. On it was a live news broadcast featuring a bubbly dark-skinned blonde wearing a jacket over what could generously be described as a crop-top barely covering the underside of those hu–
"– HUGE UPDATE VIEWERS! We have new reports of firefights – right here in the heart of Shiratori City!"
That was the most upbeat report for an armed insurrection he'd ever heard.
" It seems the Helmet Gangs are now proudly marching out in force leaving citizens fending for themselves! We've reached out to Valkyrie Police School who have offered no comment as of yet, well into the FOURTH day of the citywide riots. Will peace ever be restored in Kivotos? Find out by subscribing to the Kronos Press Bureau, reporting live from downtown –"
Helmet Gangs. Riots and chaos on the streets. Scantily-clad newshounds.
"Sounds like a typical Tuesday in Greater Chicago."
He just got here and things were already getting too exciting. After checking the chamber of his Magnum one more time, he released the slide with a resounding *click*, then made his way up the stairs.
"Also, was that a halo above her head…?"
Emerging into the streets above, eyes squinting as he adjusted to the bright overworld. When he could finally see, he whistled at the sight.
"Well I'll be damned…"
Avery had visited many systems in both the Outer and Inner Colonies like planet Reach and ventured into Forerunner worlds like the Halo rings, and finally the Ark. But this vast sea of blue he just witnessed was pretty up there.
A clean, sprawling metropolis laid before his eyes – its mind-boggling scale as he couldn't see any sign of a horizon beyond the urban jungle. Large billboards featuring branded luxuries and various mouth-watering delicacies filled the storefronts. Hundreds of paned-windows reflected one another under the bright blue skies above with white streaks trailing across. In the distance, a single building stood above all, as a beam of light seemed to fall into the tip of the tower. An odd feature he noticed were the visible rings in the sky, stacking above one another like an intricately weaved sky tapestry.
Halos. It'll be too soon if he'd ever had to explore another ringworld to fight alien freakshows. At least these ones seemed intangible – was it some kind of weather phenomenon unique to this place?
"Well, that rules out Earth or any colony I've seen…"
Speaking of which, some of these adverts featured buxom supermodels or schoolgirls holding desserts, who all had something in common – unique halos floating above their heads. Even the reporter he saw in the news earlier had one when he recalled it.
' Are those real? Or holographic projections? Just where the hell is this place anyway?' He thought as he began fiddling with his TacPad. A futile effort; as the system couldn't detect any familiar UNSC frequencies nor galactic positioning coordinates. No way to contact home or any nearby friendlies. If there were any in the first place.
Johnson began observing his immediate vicinity. A mostly empty street save for a few abandoned cars and bikes. Survival and navigational training kicked in – first thing to do when a Marine finds themselves in unfamiliar territory: get the lay of the land. In this case, since it's urban civilization, he had to find a map or simply get directions from the locals. Walking ahead, he spotted what looked to be a convenience store; ads plastered all over the windows, an 'ANGEL 24' emblazoned over the store's signage with little cartoon wings sprouting off the side. Cute.
"Hello? Anyone home?" A bell rang as he entered the lit store he began his search, starting with the staff.
Counter was empty with no other patrons inside; they'd probably evacuated already due to the riots. No signs of looting, which meant he was in a part of town still not caught up in the mess. Either that, or the citizens of this town were really on their best behavior. Eyes scanned the contents. Instant noodles, chocolate bars, chewing gum – all pretty usual stuff one might find. Then came some magazines, pamphlets, MREs (Meals-Ready-to-Eat) packs which were kinda weird. Then came the polymer magazines loaded with military grade ammo, grenades in plastic wrapping, boxes of 7.62x51mm FMJ ammo…
… Wait a second.
Taking a closer look to make sure he wasn't seeing things, he was taken aback at the sheer amount of ammunition being casually displayed out from cheap plastic boxes. In public. Even crazier was the nearby display featuring large boxes containing ancient firearms of varying calibers; all the real deal with no security measures in place. It's as if a museum donated their old collection to circus clowns for decorations, as they all had a rather liberal array of colorful paint-jobs that made Covenant plasma weapons look subtle by comparison.
"But a 25% discount for Christmas for grenades? Sounds like my kinda store."
Enough of being weirded out by the display, he spotted a brochure stand next to the magazines. Quickly going to it, he found what appeared to be a tourist guide and decided to borrow it for a bit.
"Shiratori City… D.U Ward… Kivotos… hmm, places don't ring any bells," he pondered over the details of the local map. The city divided itself into 'wards', which resembled Japanese city planning, and seemed to stretch past what the map offered. It probably was a megacity, just like New Phoenix, Mombasa or Sydney. Deciding to study it later, he pocketed the pamphlet.
"No sense to be staying here, gotta find someone to ask for directions."
As if on cue, a sudden beeping on his wrist caught his attention: his TacPad had a mission update to distract him from his current worries.
>> Report to the General Student Council Main Tower
Alright, straight to the point. It even had a nav marker and everything, just over a kilometer away. It was a curious development, since he didn't remember manually updating it nor was it connected to any available UNSC networks. Yet another mystery to add to the list today.
He left the abandoned store and made his way towards the nav marker, following the streets.
Two blocks later, he felt soft clinks beneath his feet. Looking down, several shell casings rolled around after his boots kicked them. Picking up one spent casing, he gave it a whiff.
"Hmm, normally I love the smell of gunpowder in the morning…" he remarked as the bold, fresh scent of sulfur made its way through his nostrils. Observing more bullet holes all around the sides of the nearby buildings, it finally made sense to why no one was present.
"… but street fighting ain't pretty, no matter what time of the day."
Cracks in the distance silenced his thoughts.
Gunfire . Something Johnson was all too familiar with. Giving his trusty shotgun a once over, he made sure it was functional for the fights ahead.
More gunfire echoed past the buildings, followed by a familiar noise – police sirens.
Cops. If anything, meeting up with local law enforcement would probably bring him closer to his objective. Maybe he could get some questions answered too before he'd introduce himself to whoever was in charge of this city.
D.U Central, Above street level
December 12, 2021 09:40 Hours
A single masked figure had leapt from the rooftop, landing with surprising grace on a nearby lamp post below. After dusting off her intricately weaved kimono-uniform, she pulled back the bolt of her custom Arisaka rifle and proceeded to load in a stripper clip. Looking over the horizon, the Fox of Calamity smiled.
"Ara… What a beautiful morning!"
Chaos may have reigned the streets below but up here she was having a blast! Which was a marked change from spending her precious youth cooped up in the Corrections Bureau, along with her fellow formidable inmates, often referred to by her wardens as 'The Seven Prisoners'. As if they didn't have hundreds more boorish ruffians held in the other blocks. Then again, she preferred the meager company in maximum security, that thieving cat being probably one of her least hated amongst the rest.
After those rumors of the GSC having a leadership crisis started spreading, the prison riot proved useful in distracting most of the guards. After that, escaping with her fellow inmates was fairly easy and she was finally free to go back and enjoy some well needed fresh air.
That was until her recreational time was abruptly cut short by those pesky rogue foxes from SRT Academy currently tracking her down. ' Didn't their meddlesome school shut down already?' She thought. No matter – a couple of self-righteous vigilantes wouldn't get in the way of today's entertainment. She remembered her pursuers talking about a 'SCHALE Clubhouse'. Apparently it held some connection to the Sanctum Tower; that oppressively tall building in which the GSC prattled their authority with. Maybe she'll pay both sites a visit and blow it all up first – beginning with the former.
But for that she'd need explosives. Lots and lots of explosives. Luckily for her, she knew a nearby Helmet Gang that owed her big time. But for now the fireworks show could wait; she'll lose her pursuers first and then pay those ruffians a visit first to collect her prize.
Wakamo quivered in anticipation and took off. No one else was going to stop her fun today.
D.U Central, Outskirts of General Student Council District
December 12, 2021 09:55 Hours
"What the hell kinda ONI spice-fueled freak experiment did I jump myself into?" Avery wondered aloud.
Flicking the safety on and lowering his shotgun, Johnson advanced past the civilian crowd fleeing the chaos in the streets ahead.
Well, "civilians" if he could call them that, as Avery became increasingly bewildered by the sight that lay before him. Humanoid androids of varying shapes and sizes with animated LED displays for faces ran past bleating robotically. Even weirder were the cats, dogs and birds – by which they were all somehow bipedal and wore people's clothes. They resembled a bunch of Grunts after their Brute commander decided charging straight at a machine gun nest was an excellent idea.
A nearby portly-looking android in a suit was slumped behind a lamppost, scared out of his mind. Maybe one of these civvies might give him some answers. He grabbed the robot's suit and pulled him to his feet.
"Up and at 'em, Mr. Robot! What's your name?"
Pixelated eyes widened on his LED face. "I-it's Mr. Yama… please don't hurt me!"
"Calm down citizen – just tell me what is going on down there?"
"It's the Mera-Mera Helmet Gang! They've taken over the streets ahead and are shooting everything up!" the robot pointed.
"Calm down Mr. Yama, are there any nearby police, or military forces that can help?"
"I-I saw a couple of Valkyrie squad cars go that-a-way!"
"Local PD huh?" Avery assumed. Given the size of this city, he'd expected to have some level of active civil services, including law enforcement which should be equipped to take on any local dissent. This wasn't his fight, but Avery's instincts told him however that the local police might need a little more help if they were gonna control a riot of this scale, which now looked more like a full-blown warzone.
"Alright sir; just follow that street back there," Avery directed. "... then you get some other folks with you to the nearest subway for shelter. If you see any more cops, tell them to go my way."
"Wait, you're going to help them?" the robot asked incredulously. "... You're better off following me sir – those Valkyrie Police schoolgirls are about as useful as an ashtray on a bike!"
"Just getcha' ass outta here!" Avery barked at the rotund robot, who promptly wobbled away.
How did a robot even get fat? Also, 'police schoolgirls'? He ain't never heard of such a thing.
Something then caught the edge of his vision. Turning to look at the disturbance, he ended facing upwards. There it was, a red-black blur leaping from one lamp post to another, reminding him of Covenant Skirmishers. The figure stopped on an abandoned bus and stood tall, an antique-looking rifle held over shoulder.
'Woah, girl's got moves.'
Transfixed upon the lady in a fancy red and black Japanese dress – she was in fact Johnson's first sighting of an actual human being… or so he'd thought. Black flowing locks soon gave way to a side view of an elaborate porcelain mask shaped like a fox. Then it got real weird when what he'd initially mistaken for a long ponytail was actually a big bushy tail. Which also complimented the huge pair of very real canine ears, twitching on her head, responding to every audio stimulus.
But what really caught his eye was the glowing red halo floating just above her head, a flowery sigil inside illuminating her delicate frame. The woman had an air of wildness, a defiantly untamed look at first glance, yet underneath all that was a serene demeanor which added to her mysterious aura. He almost chastised himself for gawking at her – then realized those golden orbs behind her mask slits staring straight back.
Both were frozen in place; the Marine Corps Sergeant was trying to establish friend or foe. The wolf-girl however contemplated the presence that didn't gaze at her with the usual fear or contempt – but curiosity. This was a first for the normally reserved Wakamo and it felt…
… Warm?
Another nearby explosion broke the staring contest between the two. By the time his eyes darted back to the bus, she was gone. Poof. – she had places to be apparently.
' It's like a scene from one of those degenerate old Asian cartoons his Marines would illegally download to their personal tablets,' he remarked. Marines will always be Marines; indulging in the most depraved hobbies in their downtime. Something told him that it wouldn't be the last time he'd see Little Miss Fox Lady but he had other things to focus on now.
Continuing past broken shophouse windows, ruined street signs and fallen lampposts, he eventually came across an abandoned police patrol car. Cautiously approaching it, he peered through the windows to find it empty, save for its radio crackling with static.
Getting in the driver's seat, which he noted was on the right, he gazed upon the positively ancient-looking dashboard. While there were some digital displays, they were those old analog ones you'd find in some Outer Colony backwater planet. Even more damning was the lack of an ignition button; instead, a simple keyhole greeted him below the steering wheel.
"Okay… it's been awhile… need to figure out how to hotwire this baby, if they're like any of those old models. Maybe I could – wait. Hold on a sec."
He glanced at the overhead compartment. Surely it can't be this easy. Pulling it open, a set of keys fell onto his lap.
"Typical rookies," he amusedly remarked.
The police radio suddenly crackled with a panicked woman's voice filtering through the static.
"– This is Cadet Hashigawa! We're under fire at the intersection near 21st Street, D.U Central! Helmet Gang with hostile Automatons and drones have set up a barricade; WHERE'S OUR BACKUP–"
Cadets? That explains the carelessly abandoned squad car. If they're bringing in the greenhorns to pacify civil unrest, then these cops most definitely needed saving.
The message also implied that Johnson was up against drones and combat robots. Judging from her panicked tone about the Automatons, they had to be a serious threat around these parts.
Glancing at his TacPad, he knew that the objective and the letter was an important step to figuring out what he was doing here. The radio continued to air the desperate calls for reinforcements with no one responding.
"What would the Master Chief do?" He asked himself, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Seconds passed, and he jammed the keys into the ignition. The engine roared to life and he began moving off, hoping that he wasn't too late.
D.U Central, Near General Student Council Main Tower
December 12, 2021 10:15 Hours
Ear-piercing feedback, followed by loudspeakers blared between two hastily set-up barricades on the street.
"This is the K.S.P.D! Please disperse and go back ho–"
RA TAT TAT TAT TAT! KABOOM!
"Eeeep!"
"I don't wanna go out there anymore!" A fellow junior officer screamed.
"Make it stop! Please!"
"Protect me cone-sama!" An orange-haired traffic officer begged, uselessly holding said safety cone over her head.
Cadet Kirino adjusted her Public Safety Bureau cap. "See? We really need to do something about this Fubuki-san!"
"Eh, we'll be fine," Cadet Fubuki casually replied to her partner, munching on a glazed donut. "Good thing I was prepared for these kind situations,"
"Prepared?! For what situation? Having snacks in a middle of a firefight–"
BOOM!
" – or for THAT?!"
Nakatsukasa Kirino was not having a good day. Ever since the rumored shakeup within the GSC, the Public Safety Bureau were pressed into the streets to help with the K.S.P.D's crippling manpower shortage. Since then she's lost count on how many firefights they've had with roving gangs in the past week alone. And the after-action reports kept piling up!
Today they were responding to a request made by the Public Peace Bureau to help secure parts of the inner-districts near the General Student Council and were told there would be nothing to worry about.
"Plus, we get some time to slack– ahem, I mean, rest for all the hard work we've put in all week!" Her partner Fubuki assured her.
Of course, it turned out to be an entirely different story when they got there, since the Mera-Mera Helmet Gang were somehow already occupying the street – along with a flight of drones and even Combat Automatons. Where'd they get those from? When were the reinforcements coming to help? And just how did Fubuki sneak in a fresh box of Mister Donuts while in the middle of a firefight?
"Relax Kirino-san, HQ says they're bringing in backup soon. I'm sure they'll take it from here."
A nearby explosion sent a squad car into the air, terrified cadets now running for another piece of cover. Loosed by the shockwave, Kirino straightened her cap.
"But they could take hours to arrive!"
"The GSC's just down the block. You think Chief Kanna's ever gonna let some Helmet Gang take this road like that?"
"Fubuki-san, you're too carefree!"
Fubuki did have a point. Else there'd be hell to pay from Director Kaya herself, if the rumors about the GSC audit were true. But none of that stopped more bullets from sailing over their heads.
"Relaaaax… the gangsters have their side of the street and we're safe behind ours. They're not going to risk jumping over their barricade just to –"
A metallic groan interrupted their chat.
Fubuki looked up in time to see the menacing visor of an unmarked Automaton peering over the barrier. She gasped, abandoning her half-eaten donut and fumbling to pull out her barely-maintained No. 14 Valkyrie rifle. In their hesitance, they failed to notice the Helmet Gang mustering their strength for a breakthrough. Led by the behemoth of a Heavy Automaton, several drones fanned out behind and began indiscriminately firing rockets above the police barricade.
"Me and my big mouth!" Fubuki exclaimed, tugging at the bolt of her rifle, after the trigger had predictably jammed on her.
"They're here!" An officer wailed before bullets peppered her riot shield.
"S-stop! In the name of the la–" Kirino squawked before the Heavy Shielder Automaton barreled through, shoving the concrete barrier to the side.
This was it. Kirino knew fully well her marksman scores were abysmal, yet shaking hands still held her No. 3 Valkyrie issued pistol defiantly pointed at the incoming target. Eyes shut, she began squeezing the trigger and hoping for the best…
… As a random police squad car slammed straight into the side of the charging Automaton out of nowhere, trapping the poor machine between the engine block and the concrete barrier on her left. A loud 'CRUNCH' followed by the dying wail of a broken siren brought the entire street to silence.
"What the heck…?" Fubuki said.
Kirino glanced at the newcomer. The figure in the now-wrecked squad car shook their head, still reeling from the crash.
"Goddamn automatic-stick crap," they could be heard grumbling through the broken windows.
Before she could shout if they were okay, a terrifying lurch shifted the car backwards. The Heavy Automaton tried pushing itself out of this mess.
*chuck-chk*
"YO! TIN MAN!"
POW! *chuck-chk* POW! *chuck-chk* POW!
Shotgun blasts rang out shattering the windshield. The robot collapsed once more, struggling to free itself from the wreckage by crawling. Its chestplate and visor were pockmarked with powerful 8-gauge buckshot. Before it could fully tear itself away from the engine block, the soldier dismounted by kicking the damaged door open, white pistol in hand.
"That ain't no way to talk to a lady," he said, pointing the Magnum at the robot.
A fifty-caliber high-explosive Magnum round tore through the cranium processing unit with a shower of sparks. A loud crash was heard after the Automaton crumpled onto the asphalt, ceasing all function.
Both officers stood slack-jawed at the towering figure who had single-handedly halted an Automaton; albeit by ramming a car into it, then pumping it full of lead. He wore a cap, olive armored vest and held a large white pistol one-handed. His head craned back to look at Kirino and Fubuki who stared back.
"You okay ladies?" he asked.
"Huh? We? No, you need help sir!" Kirino squawked. The drones, now alerted to the new threat, bared down upon the wrecked car and Johnson.
"Relax, I'm a trained professional," Avery calmly replied. "I got these guys."
Without skipping a beat or even looking, the man lobbed a round metallic object backwards. A soft clink, followed by a loud explosion sent shrapnel tearing through two of the drones. Following the grenade, a single aimed magnum round sent the last drone careening into the pavement with a satisfying crunch. Johnson then holstered his sidearm and lifted the shotgun from his back.
"First one's on me, now give some covering fire officers!"
Even with halo protection, Kirino would think twice peeking out while getting shot at. And this man volunteered to jump straight into battle without one?
Before Kirino could stop him, he advanced to the right side of the street, shotgun blasting away at the Helmet Gang's barricade. An Automaton wielding an assault rifle tried to jump over their barricade to intercept, and received one shotgun blast to its leg and fell face-flat. Before it could recover, the man put another shell into its head effortlessly.
"Come on tin-can soldiers, I'll show y'all how a Marine will kick your asses!"
Excited murmurs bounced throughout the police line.
"Who's that?"
"He's the reinforcements?"
"Is that an adult?"
"He's better than that; he's HOT !"
Another Automaton fell at his feet, sparks flying everywhere.
"LADIES! I ain't playing around here! Get some cover fire for me will ya?"
Now he was beginning to see why some of the civilians didn't seem too relieved when cops were on the scene. Still, there were hostiles to take care of, backup or not.
"Who the hell is this guy?!" He heard a gangster cry out.
Shoving the last shell into the breach, Sgt. Johnson returned to assess the situation. The little combat drones had been taken out, but there were still mechanical infantry in the front. Somewhere behind their lines were actual people somehow controlling them, either through direct means or possibly neural commands to AI-controlled bots. If it was the latter, it was certainly impressive, as the UNSC barely touched that kind of drone technology for ground infantry, A.I being seen as much more useful in technical roles and support, such as managing starship functions.
The battle could be over quicker if Johnson could take the operators out of commission first. Nevertheless, he'll try out diplomacy first.
"Hey, HELLO, yes you; the angry Helmet girls!"
"What?" One of them actually responded.
"Stand. DOWN! Else I've got all day to convert your toys into scrap," he barked, pumping his shotgun. "I'll even throw in the buckshot for free!"
"Oi! You!" A Helmet Gangster cried out, jumping forward to meet him. "Those Automatons were expensive! You and your Valkyrie cop friends are ruining our fun!"
"Well ain't that a crying shame!" He replied, poking out and keeping his weapon at a low ready. "Put the gun down lady; no one else needs to get hurt!"
"Just because you don't have a halo doesn't mean we won't shoot you!"
She mentioned the halos; those weird things floating around their heads. And why would not having one make her somewhat hesitant to shoot him?
"Last chance lady; put the gun down. That is an order!" He barked loudly, hoping the intimidation would force compliance.
"Screw you old man!" She defiantly roared, raising her rifle.
A loud boom echoed once more on the street.
Even before the Covenant, Avery was regretfully no stranger to fighting his fellow humans. He'd participated in numerous black operations to ruthlessly eliminate the Insurrectionists; tearing suicide bombers apart with long-range gauss rifles, mowing down bomb-makers in close-quarters or straight-up executing insurgents for the greater good. Not to mention the absolute shitshow that was Operation: SILENT STORM. His hands weren't clean any way you slice it.
So when his latest foe – a delinquent school girl pointed an assault rifle at him, his vision went red, and he'd instinctively responded with a glancing spray of buckshot to her lower leg, hoping to merely incapacitate her with a minor wound. His fingers trembled, shaky after he'd realized what he did. After decades of shooting genocidal aliens, he finally fired at another human being and braced his conscience once more.
What he didn't expect was her to quickly get back up only slightly fazed, leg not worse for wear.
"Ow – that hurt old man!" She complained. "What'd you put in those shells?"
The hell? A single 8-gauge Magnum 0000 ('quad-ought') shell should've been enough to shatter an Elite's shields at point-blank range! And he was sure she wasn't wearing that much armor.
' So what the hell is she made of?'
He put another shell into her chest when she tried to raise her rifle again, but was once again surprised when her torso didn't splay outwards with torn flesh, like there was some kind of invisible energy shield protecting her. This time she appeared winded by the shot, merely groaning in pain on her back. Judging from the trash heap's worth of robots he left in his wake, he was pretty sure his guns were shooting live ammo. So why was she reacting to a shotgun shell like she was merely smacked by a club to her chest?
Only afterwards did he notice the halo above her head flickering then eventually fading out. At the same time, she stopped moving, but was still visibly breathing, indicating a mere loss of consciousness.
"Holy shit, he shot Wawa-chan!" One of the gangsters wailed.
"Get him!" Another angrily shouted.
He didn't have more time to ponder the relationship between the halos and these kids' invulnerability to bullets, before a hail of gunfire from the remaining gangsters forced him into cover. The rest of the Gangsters halted their assault on Valkyrie, now fully focused on their newest threat – the man who'd just single handedly taken on a Helmet Gang by sheer grit.
None of this sat right with Johnson; he had no choice to fire upon what were essentially heavily-armed children. Decades spent fighting rebel humans and later aliens in a genocidal war hammered home a grim cycle of death and destruction. Shaking his head, he reminded himself that he was still in combat; he had to get a grip!
Looking back at the police roadblock, there seemed to be some progress, as one of the girls was shouting something indecipherable to his ears. Otherwise, they didn't seem to be budging and helping him out. He almost considered chewing them out right there and then, but reminded himself that they weren't his Marines nor did he technically have jurisdiction in where he was.
"Man, I did not sign up for this shit…"
Johnson decided to take the initiative again and flank. Advancing past a concrete barrier, he bumped into a surprised gangster wielding a sniper rifle. Before she could react, Johnson pulled his shotgun backwards–
" Think fast missy."
– before smashing the buttstock quickly into her abdomen.
"OOF!" She staggered backwards, not expecting a bash to the chest by a man with a gun. Johnson recovered and processed what he felt.
His weapon didn't break, that much was obvious and the melee strike did react profoundly with her body. No pushback or deflections from energy fields nor the tell-tale buzzing and heat that Covvie tech usually radiates when activated. She recovered rather quickly from the strike, forcing Avery to fire off a shell at her torso, knocking her down to the floor. Once more, no burst of electrical discharge from a broken shield was observed, but her halo disappeared, just like the previous gangster.
' Interesting…'
Which meant that this was something else – either some unknown tech was at play here, or these young girls simply had an innate resistance to physical attacks, including bullets and possibly explosions.
Looking ahead, his stomach lurched at the sight of another Automaton, this one holding a shoulder-mounted weapon; a rocket launcher by his guess. His shotgun didn't have the range for the shot, which was why his sidearm was out and ready. Firing two rounds into the chest, it barely flinched as it took aim. At that distance, he wished he brought his BR55 Battle Rifle with him instead.
Good thing those K.S.P.D cops decided to pick up the slack, because a sudden rifle round went cleanly through its cranium, a loud metallic thud announcing its demise.
"C-cadets! LETS ADVANCE!" He heard one of the cops scream as a horde of blue-white uniforms pushed through their smoke cover, guns blazing and overwhelming the enemy barricade.
"About freaking time," he said, firing his sidearm till it clicked empty, then pulling his M90A Shotgun out from his back.
As his newfound allies attacked, Avery spent the rest of the battle observing, as the cops regained control. While the robots went down rather easily, there was a distinct lack of actual bloodshed amongst the girls. He watched again as the same type of rifle rounds that easily put holes into robot heads bounced off the skull of a police officer, merely off knocking the traffic cone she was strangely wearing and causing her to kneel. After an embarrassed head rub, she just casually got up, picked up the cone and continued on her way.
Despite all this shooting, no one was actually getting killed or even wounded.
Having seen enough death throughout his career, all of it felt fundamentally wrong .
Yet… he preferred this – being able to kick ass and take names, but everyone (hopefully) got to go home at the end of the day.
He could get used to this.
After the dust settled, a messy pile of metal scrap and broken circuits were piled to the sidewalk. Several Helmet Gangsters were handcuffed or tied to one another – iron bars and uncomfortable cells awaiting their fate. As the victorious officers secured the area or tended to their injuries, one satisfied Marine sat atop the mound of destroyed Automatons. It would have made for a perfect front-page worthy picture, were it not for – in the Marine's humble opinion – the distinct lack of chewing on his favorite Sweets Williams. Ah, how he missed its warm cocoa sweetness wafting between his lips.
"Mister! Mister!"
Approaching on his right were two officers; one waving her revolver with a holstered loudspeaker on her hip and the other a rifle. Mismatched uniforms, colorful guns and non-regulation hairstyles offended his eyes which valued uniformity and discipline. They seemed pretty chipper, considering they've all just survived a combat situation.
Not to mention watching them repeatedly take direct hits from bullets, and shrugging them off like nothing. Was all this really the norm in… wherever he was?
"How y'all holding up, miss…?"
"Officer Kirno, reporting! Thank you for saving us, mister!" The one with the revolver bowed her head gratefully.
"You ladies handled yourselves well out there today. Saved my bacon too, thanks to that all-out charge." Avery responded kindly. "Coulda done it earlier though."
"Are you hurt?" The one with ponytails asked, more concerned.
"Heh, it'll take more than some walking metal scrap to take out ol' Sgt. Johnson here," he replied.
"No kidding," she replied, glancing at the pile of broken machines beneath the Sergeant. "Chief Kanna is gonna want a full report on what happened here."
"Or maybe she'll personally thank him… right Fubuki?" Kirino excitedly added, before cautiously deflating on the last part.
"Pfft… yeah right. Either way, what a pain…" The one called Fubuki muttered.
While these two seemed nice and grateful, Johnson had reservations about meeting this 'Chief Kanna' which he can only assume was their superior, or at least in charge of whatever this district was. On one hand, a good debrief could gain him a good word with this town's authority. On the other hand, it might prove to be a bigger distraction to his current objective of meeting what seemed to be the highest authority. Stepping over a chain of command was the last thing on his mind, but like during the war with the Covenant, sometimes getting info straight to or from the top was the better option for one's discretion.
"Well any debrief is gonna have to wait – right now I gotta bounce," Johnson interrupted.
"Wait, where are you going?"
Remembering the letter in his vest, he explained the situation to the two officers, who listened intently to his tale. No way he was going to tell them the part about how he'd somehow come back from the dead after decades of fighting aliens, space parasites and a floating lightbulb. Things were already crazy as they were.
"So, you're had amnesia, woke up in a train but all you remember is needing to send a message directly to Vice-President Rin?" Kirino summarized for them.
"Pretty much, yeah," Johnson affirmed.
"Where'd you find the car?" Fubuki asked, gesturing to the wreck that was the borrowed police car, now with a crushed robot decorating the hood.
He shrugged. "Ain't my fault some officer left it on the side of the road. Hope it's insured."
Fubuki eyed the wreck before brushing the issue aside, almost too casually.
"Not my car, so it's alright."
"We have a car; we could give you an escort straight to the GSC HQ!" the other officer, Kirino, suggested excitedly. "It's the least we could do for helping us out earlier sir!"
"Eh? We are?" Fubuki exclaimed, right before getting a sharp elbow from Kirino.
"Are you sure? You could get into some trouble with your superiors for helping an unknown stranger," he warned, not wanting anyone to take the heat for his actions. He was beginning to warm up to these officers.
"As a member of the Public Safety Bureau, I; Officer Kirino will take responsibility to help a friend! "
He had to give it to them. Taking up the mantle for peacekeepers despite the odds being against them was dedication. The Corps would have loved men and women of that caliber.
Besides, it's been a while and a half since he had received gratitude from others, especially from civilians or in this case, civil servants. What kind of Marine would he be if he wasn't helping others out?
"Hell, you ladies came in clutch just now," he complimented. "I'd say we're even now."
Fubuki gave Kirno a knowing look before sighing. "Eh, I guess it's fine– as long we're gone before the squad commander wakes up from the rocket she took to the chest earlier," Fubuki said.
"Is that so – wait," Avery was sure he'd heard that wrong. "... a rocket to WHAT NOW?"
"A rocket sir; her halo absorbed the blast, but she still got knocked out." She pointed in the direction of a squad van. "She's right there getting medical aid now."
He glanced over to two more officers huddling over an unconscious third. He wouldn't have believed them, were it not for her uniform being a torn mess with no visible wounds. Despite the scorch marks, she didn't appear to be burned either.
"... Is she going to be okay?"
"Why wouldn't she be–" Kirino confusedly asked, before the gears in her head clicked. "You're not from Kivotos aren't you mister?"
"Kivotos," Avery repeated the strange word he remembered from the travel brochure. "Is that the name of this planet?"
Both officers halted and stared at him like an upside-down waterfall.
"..."
"..."
"Hey Kirino-chan, I think we got ourselves an extra-terrestrial."
"EEEH? No way, he looks like a normal adult!"
"It could be like that movie with Reanu Keeves; you know, the one where the aliens took away all the electricity at the end?"
"Wha– hey! SPOILERS! I still have it on my MomoFlix watchlist –"
"Hey, hey – LADIES!" he yelled, clapping his hands. They were just kids, but he still had a mission to complete, and for now they were his best bet to get to his objective.
"Oh, erm, sorry Mr. Alien – I-I mean, Sergeant," Kirno apologized.
"Focus ladies; does the words 'U-N-S-C' or 'U-E-G' mean anything around here?" He had to know if they were aware of the United Earth Government and their colonies.
"Hmm, nope. Doesn't ring any bells," Fubuki flatly answered, but he could tell it was an honest response.
So that concludes his theory – For now, he was stranded on a planet full of bulletproof kids and plenty of lead flying around. He wasn't anywhere in UNSC territory, nor were they familiar with any government body from Earth.
If he was even in the same galaxy in the first place…
"What's the UNSC?" Kirino asked.
"Nevermind that for now, might tell you another time. Now about that ride…"
General Student Council Main Tower, Vice-President's Office
December 12, 2021 10:58 Hours
A heavy sigh escaped her lips.
Vice-President Nanagami Rin's week couldn't possibly get any worse. At least that's what she told herself this morning before receiving even more reports of more rioting within the D.U city limits. Her phone constantly buzzed, with a disproportionate amount of MomoTalk messages from her cohorts.
Several holographic screens lit up a tired face, watching the latest developments all over Kivotos. Power grid failures, road reconstructions, satellite disruptions, meteor shower monitoring, budget redistributions Aoi insisted on re-auditing and the upcoming political nightmare that was the Eden Treaty between Trinity and Gehenna. Not to mention at least a month's backlog of requisitions to go through, and to top it all off, representatives from the major schools have already arrived and were waiting downstairs for a face-to-face meeting; no doubt to personally slam the GSC's recent failures to meet the academies' needs.
"...*sigh* …Of all things, I'll have to deal with these irksome… I mean, troublesome student representatives…" Rin corrected herself. She had to maintain her neutral image above all other duties of the Student Council.
Seeking some measure of comfort, weary eyes once again fell onto a photo frame of herself standing close to another woman with sky-blue hair, the latter sprouting a wide grin. For a brief moment, a warm buzz filled her tired heart.
The President was her rock, weathering every issue that has ever occurred in the entirety of her career. After her sudden disappearance, Rin was next in the line of command. She had to put a strong front for everyone in the GSC, lest the morale of her colleagues plummet too and the whole system collapses.
She had to hold on until her President's last instructions came to fruition. A letter left behind indicated that the President had enlisted the help from a reliable outsider in case of such an eventuality; an adult Sensei whom not only would they be able to restore access to the Sanctum Tower, they would also function as an adviser to S.C.H.A.L.E: an extrajudicial club whose purpose was to resolve matters across Kivotos.
It had been well over a month since she'd read those instructions. No adult matching the description had ever shown up directly in her office as described – and the President had never been wrong.
Maybe it was time to face the music and listen to this sudden proposition Defense Office Chief Kaya had messaged her earlier today regarding security issues. It was the least she could do for the poor girl who seemed to take the President's disappearance the worst out of the council–
"Vice-Pre– I mean, Acting President Rin," her desk's intercom beeped, Ayumu's ever-flustered face occupying the video call. "S-sorry to interrupt, but there's someone outside the building, requesting your permission to enter."
Rin let out another heavy sigh – she'd emphasized punctuality for today's meeting due to her already swamped schedule. Any more sudden visits will simply not be entertained today. Pressing the push-to-talk, she began her statement of admonishment for her secretary to pass on to the latest intruder.
"As I'm aware, all of the academies' representatives who've answered have already arrived and I will be attending to them shortly. Please inform our new guest that she will not be allowed in the build–"
"T-that's the thing Rin-san, he's an adult. An adult man with no halo is waiting outside."
"..."
"... Vice-President?"
"... Patch me through the front door security feed. Now."
"Yes Rin-san, I'll keep myself on hold."
' Could it be…?'
On the screen was a tall, dark-skinned man wearing what could only be described as a field combat uniform for an old sci-fi movie. Despite that, he looked rather imposing with all that armor plating as well as a gun on his back. And true enough, he had no halo.
" ... Hello? Anyone there?" the man buzzed through the intercom.
She calmly activated her intercom. "State your name and your business, mister…?"
" Hello, hello! This is Sergeant Avery Johnson of the UNSC Marine Corps. I'm looking for a Nanagami Rin."
What was this 'UNSC' he spoke of? It wasn't any organization she'd heard of, nor was this 'Marine Corps' – maybe an unknown club from Odyssey Maritime Academy? While each academy had their own set of student prefect corps like Gehanna or armed elements like Trinity's Joint Task Force, Kivotos as a whole never had a standing military since the GSC preferred being a neutral body. The only exception she knew of was the Kaiser Corporation which has a private military branch in charge of security of their corporate assets.
"Sergeant, you're currently speaking to her. May I know what this matter is regarding?"
" ... well ma'am, I don't exactly know how I got here or why, but I think this letter was addressed to you."
The man brandished a white envelope from his vest and practically shoved it to the feed.
"..."
" ..."
"..."
"Rin…?" Ayumu on the other line called out. Rin hadn't spoken a word for more than ten seconds.
"... Sensei?"
"Rin-san, are you there? Rin? Rin! –"
She couldn't hear Ayumu anymore, as her hand went slack above her keyboard. On the security feed was a letter raised right in front of the camera, the small, yet distinct cursive writing of her beloved missing President visible on-screen. Shortly after, he retracted the letter, slowly slotting it back into his vest.
Back outside the door, Johnson's patience eventually gave out first.
"Lady Vice President. We ain't got all day," the Sergeant pressed again.
"..."
"..."
" ... Please follow my secretary, Ayumu, to my office."
"Thank you ma'am."
" There is much to discuss, Johnson-Sensei."
"Hey! It's Sergeant Johnson ma'am," Johnson questioned the sudden title bestowed upon him. Last time he checked he wasn't an expert in traditional medicines or kung fu. But he did take plenty of combat first-aid courses and hand-to-hand training during boot camp then non-commission officer school, so maybe he did qualify.
"The heck is this 'Sensei' business anyw–"
The intercom cut and went silent.
"Well shit…" he muttered as the heavy-duty doors beeped. "Open sesame at least."
Stepping back, the doors opened outwards and invited the Sergeant in. As he stepped into a distinctly white lobby, the centerpiece caught his attention; the giant-ass logo of what he presumed was the General Student Council – the same one on the letter's wax seal.
So, this is the HQ of the all-powerful General Student Council. The highest authority around these parts. Whether they'll have the answers to his questions or will they become a threat in the future, it wouldn't matter to this Marine. He had the will and determination to power through whatever they could throw at him. Not to mention his overflowing charisma to maybe appeal to their–
*CRASH!*
" Eeeep!"
A pretty blonde in white fell into a huge stack of papers. From the mess of long blonde hair, a pair of black wings stuck out lightly flapping in the wake of her fall. She glanced upwards slowly, green pupils sheepishly looking at a nonplussed Sergeant. After all he'd seen today, the black feathers on her back didn't seem to faze him anymore.
"E-excuse me… I'm here to escort you to Ri- I mean, the Acting-Vice Pres – I-I-I meant, Acting- President's office!" She managed to blurt out.
Johnson sighed.
"Well, one thing at a time," resigning himself into helping the poor woman up first.