Monica coughed once. Gasping, she tried to get the words out but her mouth wasn’t working right. She didn’t fail in anything and she would not fail in this. Spartans did not fail. Monica coughed again- and was still.

Inside Monica’s helmet, O’riley watched the Spartan’s life signs flicker and finally die, with a certain amount of sadness. He was proud of her. She’d exceeded all of his expectations and lived up to their family name.

No one could have asked for a better sister.

Another spartan, one clad in non-regulation black Mjolnir armor towered nearby, almost as large as the so-called Elites that littered the ground around him. He kicked the three-fingered hand that still gripped the energy sword that had cut Monica down, sending the blade spinning off into the distance. When it hit the ground, the sword winked out.

The gesture struck O’riley as noble, but empty. It didn’t matter that Tex was upset. He’d gotten there too late. Monica Mae Keys was dead and gone.

Maybe he was the one that was empty.