Twenty-Three: The Faint Light of Tomorrow

There had been no sign of Déjà in the UNSC. Whether that was a result of them changing history in some way or some other unknown factor, the Fleet didn't know, so while they were off dealing with the bullshit that was the collapse of the Third Ecumene, John slipped their Déjà in to take her place with instructions to monitor the Spartans and report back as frequently as she thought wise.

That wound up being about once a month, which was nice. And while they were no more pleased than the rest of the Ecumene had been, upon learning about the SPARTAN-II Program's methods of acquisition, the Fleet still cooed over the "baby Spartans" in training.

John found it weird, and the others probably would as well, but he let it be. It was his circus, but it still wasn't his monkey.

And then in 2549, another report came in from Déjà. This report was less of a report and more of a single still from security footage, of Doctor Halsey facing off against an AI, avatar nude and female and red as blood.

John hesitated for a moment, then reached out to touch the screen.

"Cortana?"