“It just had to be Will Season this week,” groaned Izuku as he and his team stepped off the transport and onto the bustling deck of the UNSC First Reverie. The crew moved with purpose, a distinct tension hanging in the air.
“Will Season?” Uraraka tilted her head in confusion as she followed.
“Required Annual Personal Information Update week for the entire UNSC,” explained Izuku, his tone flat. “Everyone has to update their records, and it’s mostly called Will Season because we’re required to write our last will and testament and submit it by the end of the workweek. It’s mandatory.”
Uraraka’s eyes widened. “Yikes, that’s… morbid.”
“It’s reality,” Kirishima said, trying to lighten the mood. “Still, it sounds like a bummer.”
Suddenly, Kirishima pointed at a figure weaving through the bustling crew—a woman in a sharp, charcoal-gray business suit clutching a digital clipboard. She was stopping crew members left and right, handing out pamphlets and starting animated conversations. “Whoa, who’s she?”
Izuku let out a long sigh. “A life insurance agent.”
“Quite accurate,” the woman said as she approached, her polished demeanor practically radiating efficiency. Her UNSC-issued badge read NovaGuard Insurance - Liaison Officer. With a smile as practiced as her pitch, she added, “Good day, officers. Would you folks be interested in learning about the comprehensive life insurance plans we offer? We’ve got fantastic coverage for combat personnel and even some tailored options for those serving aboard high-risk Assault ships like the First Reverie.”
“Uh, thanks, but no thanks,” Kirishima replied awkwardly, stepping back slightly.
“Yeah, I’m… just here for something to eat,” Izuku muttered, already heading for the mess hall, clearly wanting no part of the sales pitch.
Undeterred, the agent turned to the remaining group with an earnest grin. “Are you sure? Our Combat Operations Rider is one of the most affordable in the fleet and offers enhanced benefits for personnel involved in active engagements.”
“I think we’ll pass,” said Uraraka, grabbing Shoto’s arm and steering him toward Izuku.
As the team walked away, Kirishima muttered under his breath, “Man, they really don’t miss an opportunity to cash in, do they?”
Uraraka stifled a giggle. “Yeah, but I guess it makes sense during Will Season. What better time to sell life insurance than when everyone’s thinking about their own mortality?”
“Talk about timing,” Kirishima said, shaking his head as they followed Izuku. “But hey, let’s grab some food before she tracks us down again.”
-----
Katsuki joined the group, his usual scowl firmly in place. He crossed his arms and grumbled, “That old hag sweet-talked me into buying a premium plan. Said it was ‘tailor-made for heroes with explosive careers.’ What a load of crap.”
Both Momo and Mei burst into giggles, earning an irritated glare from Katsuki.
“Well, it’s your call, Katsuki,” Izuku said, shrugging. “At least you’re covered if anything happens.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Katsuki muttered. “Just don’t let her corner you next.”
Kirishima, always one to keep things moving, chimed in, “So, what are we heading in for this time? Something big?”
“Investigation,” Izuku replied curtly, his tone leaving little room for follow-up.
“Let me guess—classified?” Mei asked, a knowing smirk on her face as she adjusted her goggles.
“You got it,” Izuku said with a small smile, keeping his expression neutral but giving a quick glance around the busy corridor, ensuring no one was eavesdropping.
“Figures,” Mei quipped. “You’ve got that ‘top-secret’ look all over you.”
“Doesn’t matter what it is,” Katsuki interjected, cracking his knuckles. “Whatever trouble’s waiting for us, we’ll blast right through it.”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” Izuku said, his voice tinged with both determination and a hint of caution. “We’re here to find answers, not make a bigger mess.”
As they made their way toward the debriefing room, the air grew more serious. The team understood that “classified” didn’t just mean secret—it meant dangerous. And if the UNSC was calling them in, it wasn’t for something trivial.
---
The massive Phoenix-class assault ship slipped gracefully into orbit around the wreckage field. From the command bridge of the Purity's Hand, a 50-kilometer-long Fortress-class Forerunner dreadnought, Impending Purity observed the human vessel with detached curiosity. His photoreceptors—five piercing crimson lights glowing ominously against the polished metal of his towering frame—focused intently on the data feed streaming across his display.
The human ship was primitive by Forerunner standards, a crude amalgamation of steel and firepower, yet it piqued his interest. Despite its rudimentary design, it ventured boldly into a field littered with the ruins of Covenant vessels, the handiwork of none other than Impending Purity himself.
His directive in this galaxy was, by and large, academic. Impending Purity had no interest in conquest or domination; his interventions were reactions, not intentions. These Covenant vessels had fired first, and his response was swift and calculated—a testament to Forerunner superiority.
Still, this human vessel was different. It wasn’t just any ship—it bore markings identifying it as the one carrying the Halsey, or "The Wraith," as the Covenant had dubbed him. A human of considerable interest.
Impending Purity’s musings were interrupted as the sensors of his dreadnought flared to life. The human ship had detected his presence. Their primitive scanners swept over the Purity’s Hand, and within moments, an alert rippled through his system.
“Reclaimers,” Impending Purity murmured, his voice resonating within the cavernous interior of the dreadnought.
His photoreceptors dimmed slightly as he processed the situation. For all their inferiority, the humans had one undeniable trait: tenacity. If they’d come this far, it was clear they wouldn’t retreat without answers. Diplomacy, while distasteful to his clinical mind, was the logical next step.
Adjusting his vast neural network, he prepared to initiate contact. The shimmering light of a holographic interface materialized before him, a calculated blend of Forerunner elegance and functional design.
“Time to be diplomatic,” Impending Purity remarked dryly, though the phrase carried an edge of amusement. If nothing else, this encounter would add an intriguing chapter to his academic pursuits.
YOU ARE READING
an ODST among Heroes.
FanfictionFive-year-old Izuku Yagi is thrust into a world of chaos and heartbreak after losing his mother to the collateral damage caused by the Hero Endeavor. In the wake of tragedy, he encounters two enigmatic young women whose presence hints at something e...
