When Destiny Burns, Ep. 1: A Halo and Inheritance Cycle Crossover

Chapter 2. 5 Odds

He was going to hunt for some information.

The soldier slowly opened the steel walls around his mind again, allowed a thought of his to slip out and then searched for what he had determined to be the dragon's consciousness. 'Stay here,' He told the beast.

The tendril of thoughts that the animal extended in return was clear. Curiosity.

It wanted to know where he was going –the thing was actually aware of the things that happened around it.

'Information,' he then told it and looked for a sufficiently tall tree where it could stay, safe from other predators looking for it. The blood it had spilled that night was bound to attract other predators.

He looked around, before noticing a particularly large one. It reached easily taller than twenty meters /and it was climbable for him. He hoped.

He looked at a large branch and grabbed the dragon by its back, lifting it in the air with ease. 'Safe,' he told it.

The dragon didn't respond, but neither did it fight against his grip. It allowed itself to be lifted in the air by his ice-cold gauntlets, giving the soldier more than enough chance to fling it high up the tree. It flapped with its wings in an undignified manner, not having expected to be thrown up there.

It quickly jumped up another branch and then turned around, extending its long neck towards him and glaring at him.

The Spartan almost thought that the creature had a mildly amused look on its face.

He marked the tree with his knife and then moved out of the forest, making his way to the city. It was encircled by a wall, with the occasional guard patrolling over its edge. He needed one of those guards; they were bound to know something.

The Spartan moved like a shadow creeping over the grasslands, graceful as water and fast like a bird. No man ever spotted him and within a few seconds, he had made his way to the base of the wall.

It was a meter of five high, but nothing he couldn't handle.

The super-soldier braced himself and then jumped, the force-enhancing circuits in his MJOLNIR extending the height he could reach by a full two meters. His fingers wrapped themselves around the edge and he pulled himself up, sticking his head over the dark wall. The night was dark, and the wind was loud ,masking each and every sign that someone was possibly infiltrating the city.

After a minute of him hanging there, one of the guards moved closer in his patrol, walking right in front of him.

He shot out with his left arm, grabbing the tunic of the man's back and pulling him right over the edge. He needed the man alive, so he couldn't just throw him to the ground. The guard might break his legs and the screaming would wake every single man, woman and child in the city.

So he broke his fall, slowing himself by jamming his armoured hand into the wall, keeping his other hand over the man's mouth to prevent him from screaming.

With the guard secured in his grasp, he retreated back into the forest. If the man decided to be stupid and scream, nobody would hear him.

The Spartan dumped the body of the unfortunate male onto the ground and pulled out his knife, pointing it as his target's face.

"Scream and you're dead," He snapped at the man, taking notice of the gray hair and beard adorning his head. This man was easily older than sixty years. A veteran, then.