Bad Memories

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May 10, 2012

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Within the vast emptiness of virtual space, James and Queen stood side-by-side above the realm containing the Halo universe. Down below, only viewable due to their position of authority and the nature of this place, millions of players could be seen coming online and awaiting the start of the highly anticipated tournament.

Sparing a glance to her left, the AI once again took in the sight of her creator's new look and couldn't help but comment, "The Six Eyes are really quite something, they make even myself slightly envious."

And it was true. Despite not changing his looks in any drastic manner, James now possessed a gaze that drew in everyone around him. It was almost hypnotic in a way, especially when he used his Elder Blood and they glowed that beautiful teal color.

It was made even worse by the fact that he didn't need to cover his eyes most of the time like the original wielders, his Archeohominan brain possessing hardware more than capable of compensating for such side effects. Though, she could do without his ever-present smugness whenever he caught her stealing a glance.

She really wanted to give herself a pair and she would've, if it wasn't for the fact that he would've never let her live it down.

"Hmm," James nodded with a knowing smirk. The envy of his companion hadn't escaped his notice and he was enjoying every minute of it, "They are, aren't they?"

A small, annoyed scowl flashed across Queen's face for the briefest of instants at his ignoring of her insinuation. With a huff, she turned away and pulled up a screen that displayed the happenings below.

"It is time, Master James," she announced after a moment to regain her regal bearing, smoothly changing the subject to something that he couldn't use to irritate her. "I've locked down the queue so that others can't join mid-way and moved all those present to a single lobby."

The man would've liked to tease his AI a little more, but knew that it was now time for business and so shelved those plans for later.

"Hold on one moment," he said, pulling up a screen of his own. He searched through his files for a few seconds, before finding what he was looking for and sending it over to Queen with the flick of a wrist, "Here, use this for the map instead. It's something that came to mind after I saw how the news was ignoring the whole nuke fiasco and I just couldn't let them get away with that."

Queen pulled up the file and rolled her eyes after seeing its chosen layout, "And traumatizing millions with PTSD is just a minor inconvenience to you having your fun, I'm sure."

*Hmph!*

"What do you know?" he replied uncaringly. "I'm sure a lot of them will be thankful at being able to work through their fears in a healthy manner. Look at the attached file, I even included a way to make it more realistic."

She pulled it up as well and had to forcefully hold back a sigh, "Sir, some may claim this is in poor taste. I don't really think it's a good idea."

Now it was James' turn to roll his eyes, "Who cares what some whiny cunts say about it in the beginning, Queen. After this tournament, we'll release the map and settings to the public so they can play it whenever they want.

I give it less than a month before the internet's singing our praises for allowing them to confront their trauma head on. By then, our naysayers will just look even worse than they did before."

*Sigh…*

"Very well, sir. I hope you're right."

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"Kyah! I'm so excited!"

"Looking to team up, have 3!"

"Woah! There's so many people!"

"Buying GF…"

Tony Stark looked around at the insanely large gathering of people with distaste. In his mind, he was thanking Pepper for suggesting he hide his username in the tournament beforehand. Sure she'd done so with the intention of preventing him from being targeted once the fights began, but not being swarmed by the unwashed masses from the get-go was a far from unappealing byproduct.

For the next half hour he stood off to the side, keeping to himself while the horde of random strangers desperately tried to form groups and enclaves for the coming battle, obviously not having read the tournament details and knowing they'd all be teleported to different starting positions. It was a smart decision on ASTIR's part in his opinion, as anyone with a bit of money could've brought in thousands of players to serve as valuable meat shields.

He'd obviously thought of such an idea beforehand as well, the prize being too tempting not to, before being promptly informed by JARVIS of the unfeasibility of such a plan. Still, there was nothing in there that prevented him from letting the world know that Stark Industries would purchase the BP rights for double what anyone else was offering afterwards.

It was just one of the many contingencies he'd put in place on the minuscule chance that he was the one to be infected first. Obviously, that was the only way he could see himself losing.

In the midst of his musings, his surroundings erupted into raucous cheers, forcing him to look up and notice the giant countdown timer floating above them all. As the numbers started to decrease, people began counting aloud with eager enthusiasm, the noise echoing through the air like a deafening roar.

""5!""

""4!""

When it reached 3, the now-iconic Halo tone sounded out, only serving to rile them up even more. Despite himself, Tony had to exert some effort to keep the grin from creeping across his lips. The atmosphere was just too infectious.

""2!""

""1!""

And with a blinding flash of light, they disappeared.

•••

When Tony reopened his eye's, he let out a gasp of shock. Swiftly, he pulled up his system menu while his heart threatened to beat from his chest.

After verifying he was still in game, he got up on shaky legs and walked over to where he knew a mirror would be. Unsurprisingly, he found it, where it always was whenever he awoke in the morning. Only, instead of a dashingly handsome man looking back at him, it was his game avatar reflected on the glass, dawned in the standard UNSC Marine Battle Dress.

In a daze, he headed over to the nearby window a glanced up.

"Son of a bitch…" he muttered as his body started to tremble. He clenched his fists in both fear and anger as the sight of a massive blue portal shown down on a burning cityscape he was all too familiar with.

Though there were no giant monstrosities flying through the air, nor swarms of identical figures descending upon helpless citizens, a glance at his bedside clock still showcased a time he desperately hoped to forget.

Below him, he could just barely make out thousands of players in identical armor to himself, wandering the streets in both confusion and shock. That had cemented it, he was back.

Back to a time where his worldview was shaken, to where his dreams had brought him every night since. Though he was in a different location than where he'd been originally, there was no mistaking what was about to take place…

And then the sirens started to blare.