Of Guns and Gore

From Ashes

(Welcome fellow Halo/Doom enthusiasts. I hope your all having a lovely Valentines day, and that my passion may help to improve it if it isn't so good. Now do realize that I am not a fanatic, and will not be following Halo's story to the last minute detail. I also own nothing in the realm of Halo or Doom. This is a decently accurate, in my opinion, retelling of Halo with the addition of Doom Slayer. I also am not the biggest fan of Master Chief and prefer Noble team so I may pay more attention to Noble Six's character. Please feel free to correct mistakes I make and I'll try to fix them, but other than that I got nothing else to say. Enjoy.)

"Negative, I've got the gun." Six felt empty inside as he forced these words out.

The lone wolf felt ice creep into the odd emptiness he was feeling, causing his chest to ache. Six had sworn off attachments but realized that he considered the members of Noble Team like family. Each member had saved his ass on more than once, with him returning the favor on quite a few occasions.

Each one had qualities that made them so much more human than him. Carter was like the stern father of the group, Kat being the bitchy mother that balanced out how serious Carter could be. Jorge was the lovable big brother that nobody could stand to dislike, with a big heart and a tendency to put others before himself. Emile was the silent badass of the group who preferred to speak with actions rather than words but secretly had a self-sacrificing nature that made him feel obligated to take up others burdens. Then there was Jun, who was always ready to spew out a witty comment no matter the situation. Compared to these Spartans he was nothing more than a robot of a man.

"Good luck sir."

Keyes' solemn expression confirmed what the Spartan already knew. He would not be coming back from this, which Six honestly didn't mind. It didn't feel right to abandon his comrades to save his own skin, even in death.

"Good luck to you Spartan." Keyes' turned towards the pilot and signaled for him to return to the Autumn.

The dull thrum of the thrusters picked up as the Pelican began to lazily drift upward into the sky. Six turned from the ascending aircraft and focused his attention on the hulking Mass Driver before him.

Spartan-B312 started up the stairs that lead to the huge weapon. His body felt unnaturally heavy as if he had an extra hundred pounds strapped to his back. This is how his story would end. Not with a huge victory or a decisive defeat, but with a massacre. His comrades died to give hope to others.

And as Six crested the stairs he came to a realization. There was nothing to be said for the fallen, but he had a choice laid bare in front of him. He could let his team die silently, or he could make the Covenant pay in full for what they took from him. And as a trio of grunts came into his line of sight, Six decided upon which choice suited him best.

Three bursts belched out from his rifle, downing the stubby Methane breathers before they had even registered his presence. They fell unceremoniously onto the ground, light-blue blood leaking from their wounds. A loud clattering of footsteps followed Six's gunshots. From the doorway came the culprit, an elite major with its energy sword drawn.

Six ignored the pit in his gut and started unloading the remainder of his magazine towards the advancing alien. His rounds bounced harmlessly off its shields, only further pissing off the alien. The snap of the alien's shields overloading accompanied the sound of his clip running dry.

There was no time to celebrate this small victory, as it was within arms reach of Six now. It swung its energy sword in an upward arc, hoping to remove the Spartans head from his shoulders. With no time to lose, Six let go of his rifle and ducked under the sword. His hand went to his waist, wrapping around the grip of his magnum, and shoving the high caliber pistol between the elite's mandibles.