Ch 3 Chapter 3 — The Man Out of Time
> "A soldier's worth isn't measured by his victories. It's measured by what he's willing to lose for them."
— Commander Alexander-217
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The armor sealed with a hiss.
Mag-locks clicked, systems hummed, and the familiar HUD flooded his vision with green and gold diagnostics.
For the first time since Manhattan, Alex felt whole.
> "Systems fully integrated," SYN reported. "All core components online. Neural sync stable at 99.8%."
"Feels like breathing again," Alex muttered.
Through the glass, Nick Fury watched as the Spartan-II stood atop the reinforced SHIELD training deck — a massive hangar carved into the side of a mountain. Every surface gleamed with Stark tech and Wakandan alloys.
Down below, Tony adjusted his gauntlet sensors. "Okay, big guy, we reinforced the walls with vibranium weave, so please try not to punch through the planet this time."
"Noted," Alex said flatly.
Steve Rogers stepped forward, shield on his back, his expression steady but curious. "Fury said you were a soldier. That armor looks like it could stop a tank."
"It has," Alex replied.
Steve smiled faintly. "Good. Then let's see if it can handle me."
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The Sparring Test
They faced each other on the mat, surrounded by the rest of the Avengers. Natasha leaned against the railing, arms folded. Banner watched nervously from the console booth. Thor lounged nearby, twirling Mjolnir like it was a toy.
Fury's voice crackled through the intercom. "This isn't a fight, it's an evaluation. Rogers, keep it controlled. Spartan, no killing blows."
Alex's visor dimmed slightly. "Understood."
"Begin," Fury said.
Steve moved first — a blur of speed and precision that would have impressed any normal soldier. But Alex was faster.
The shield struck air. Alex sidestepped, countered, and drove a controlled knee into Steve's midsection — hard enough to stagger him back, but not enough to break bones.
Steve grunted. "You don't pull punches, do you?"
Alex's tone was calm. "I did."
He came forward again, movements fluid, disciplined — pure Spartan combat training. Steve blocked, ducked, rolled — but every strike he parried sent tremors through his arms.
Then, in one perfect moment of timing, Rogers threw his shield. It ricocheted off the far wall, rebounded toward Alex's flank — and Alex caught it mid-air without looking.
The room went silent.
Thor whistled. "He catches the Captain's hammer-disc. I like him."
Alex examined the shield — scratches along its edge, resonance vibrating through his gauntlet. "Strong alloy. But inefficient aerodynamics."
Steve chuckled and held out his hand. "You'll have to teach me how to improve my swing, then."
Alex returned the shield. "Anytime."
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A Soldier's Instinct
When the spar ended, Stark ran diagnostic readings, muttering to himself. "The exosuit amplifies his physical strength by at least five-fold over baseline Captain levels… maybe six. Energy output is off the charts. I could build an entire Iron Legion based on that system."
"Not happening," Alex said, walking past him.
Tony grinned. "You'll come around. Everyone does when I say 'nanotech upgrade.'"
Natasha stepped into his path. "You fight like a machine. No hesitation, no emotion. That's not human."
Alex paused. "I was trained to be something more than human. Or less, depending on how you define it."
Her expression softened slightly. "You sound like Steve when he talks about the serum."
"Difference is," Alex said quietly, "you volunteered. We were taken."
That silenced her. Even Tony looked up from his holograms.
Steve frowned. "Taken?"
Alex met his eyes through the gold-tinted visor. "When I was six, the program replaced us with clones. Our families buried copies. The real ones were trained — broken — rebuilt. Half died before puberty."
No one spoke for several seconds.
Banner whispered, "Dear God…"
Thor, unusually solemn, said, "Your world forged warriors as Asgard forges blades."
Alex simply said, "We didn't fight for glory. We fought so others wouldn't have to."
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The Signal
Later that night, the training deck emptied. The compound slept. Only Alex remained, sitting atop the observation tower, armor bathed in moonlight.
> "Commander," SYN's voice whispered softly in his mind, "I've completed the network scan."
"Anything?"
> "Yes. A faint transmission. Not SHIELD, not Stark, not Earth-based at all. The signal matches UNSC encryption protocols… partially corrupted, but authentic."
Alex froze. His pulse spiked. "Say that again."
> "A distress beacon. Origin: unknown quadrant. Temporal displacement — two years ahead of current Earth timeline."
"Two years?"
> "Yes. Meaning the source exists out of sync with this universe's local time. Multiversal interference probable."
Alex stared at the stars. "Someone from home?"
> "Possibly. Or something using our frequency to lure us."
He stood slowly. "Can you trace it?"
> "I'll need more data. But… there's one more thing."
"What?"
> "The signal contains an identifier code — Sierra-117."
Alex's heart stopped. "John?"
> "Yes, Commander. The Master Chief."
He clenched his fists. "He's alive."
> "Or something wants you to believe he is."
Below, silent security drones tracked his movement. Fury's office light flickered in the distance — the man never slept.
Alex exhaled slowly, battle instincts awakening. "SYN, lock down the channel. Don't let SHIELD catch wind of this."
> "Already done."
The AI hesitated before speaking again.
> "You know what this means, don't you?"
"Yes."
> "If Chief is out there… then the war followed us."
Alex looked toward the horizon, where dawn began to bleed over the mountains.
"Then we end it here."
---
Morning at the Compound
The next day, Fury called a briefing. The Avengers gathered around the central holo-table as SHIELD satellites projected recent anomaly data.
"We've been tracking dimensional distortions since the Tesseract incident," Fury said. "But something's changed in the last twelve hours. Power surges off the charts. Something — or someone — is calling across universes."
Alex stood at the back, silent. SYN said nothing.
Stark frowned. "Let me guess. Big bad alien, wants to conquer Earth, yada yada?"
Banner shook his head. "No. This energy signature isn't alien. It's… structured. Military-grade encryption."
Natasha glanced toward Alex. "That sound familiar to anyone?"
Fury's single eye shifted to him. "Anything you want to share, Spartan?"
Alex paused. "Not yet. But if this is what I think it is — your world's about to face something it isn't ready for."
Thor chuckled. "We've faced gods, titans, and monsters. What could be worse?"
Alex turned toward him, visor glinting. "A civilization that makes gods bleed for sport."
The room went still.
Fury crossed his arms. "Then I hope you're ready to teach us how to fight them."
Alex nodded once. "Just remember — when this starts, there's no retreat."
Steve stepped forward. "Then we stand together."
Alex met his eyes and, for the first time, gave a small, genuine smile. "We'll see if your world's ready for Spartan tactics."
> "Commander," SYN whispered, "incoming data — the signal just spiked again."
"How close?" he thought.
> "Very. It's coming from within Earth's orbit."
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Outside, unseen by human eyes, a faint ripple distorted the space above the planet — a fracture in reality, glowing faintly blue.
And through that crack, something massive began to emerge.
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End of Chapter 3 — "The Man Out of Time"