Of Guns and Gore

I'm not a Monster

Howdy ho neighborino, been a hot second since we last spoke. I won't bother to apologize for the delay, cause it really isn't a delay if it happens every time. I'm trying my best to make this story both straightforward and complex at the same time, so please tell me if I should begin to cut out the extra points of view. Anyway, enjoy the longest chapter yet. (P.S. JT music just released an updated version of the DOOM rap, and I fucking love it. Totally recommend.)

"How is this important to the mission?" The simple-minded man trudged towards the closest access point, none-the-wiser to his part in a grander scope of things.

"It's easier to show you than to explain. A lot of big words are needed to describe your mission, and your Neanderthal brain wouldn't be able to process them."

The Slayer scoffed, but said nothing. Truth was, D.O.T. found his servile attitude appealing, even if it was because he had her inside his entire suit. His stubbornness was easily bypassed when he too had skin in the game. It just made things so much easier.

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D.O.T's leash found it's way around his neck once again, and the Slayer was pissed. After saving a few more marines and killing a small Covenant force, the A.I. had decided she wanted to go sightseeing. Seeing as she understood her leverage over him, that meant that the Slayer had been forced to act as her means of transportation.

Both Chief and Cortana had made their opinions known, saying that splitting up was stupid, but D.O.T. wasn't known for listening to reason. That brought him to his current task of walking in whatever direction D.O.T. asked, getting bitched at every time he took a second or two to try and enjoy the change of scenery. Not being in a barren hellscape or bloody battlefield should be therapeutic for a man like himself, but it was impossible to enjoy with her breathing down his neck the whole time.

It would be more understandable if this mission was of dire importance, but D.O.T. hadn't so much as offered coordinates, much less a good justification for why they were taking this detour.

"How are ya holding up?" The bitchy voice was retired for the briefest of times, and the predatory voice of sympathy reared it's ugly head.

The Slayer could've reacted to this in  a few ways. He could've answered honestly and try to pretend the question was serious, He could've drop-kicked his helmet and began to use his arms to start felling trees in a blind rage, or he could've ignored her entirely. The Slayer chose option D, and reined in his urge to strangle her completely, conducting himself calmly.

"Why are we out here, and what do you get out of it?" D.O.T. huffed.

"If you've noticed, what we stand upon isn't truly an artificial planet like it would appear." D.O.T. gestured around at the greenery around them. "All of this makes up but a fraction of the object we stand upon. Underground is an incredibly expansive cluster of information just ripe for the taking."

"I thought you were the smartest A.I. in existence?" The Slayer put a lethal dose of sarcasm in each word. "What more could you possibly wish to know oh great one?"

D.O.T.'s face deadpanned, but no rude remark slipped from her lips. "My knowledge only extends as far as human knowledge possibly could. The technology of the Covenant and the UAC are the only exceptions to that, and as far as I can tell, this ring was designed by neither."

"Oh..." The Slayer hadn't really thought about that. On the spot dialogue was easy, but he would've never thought ahead that far to think about that.

"So my hope is that this race possesses enough information to allow me to create a synthetic body. No offense, but you aren't my intellectual equal, which makes car rides with you incredibly tedious. You need everything explained to you, or you'll just beat it to hell." Gears turned within the Slayer's head, shaking the rust free as his brain came to an exciting conclusion.