Halo: Magicka

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...

Well, that was an interesting meeting.

I knew Kurt. Better than he thinks I do. I'd known all about his unique little trait, his history as the leader of the Green Team and the absence of his younger memories. I gave him a fragment of those back.

They're probably under the impression that I have some sort of sight ability now rather than a sense. Either way, this is good for me as it will keep my abilities relatively explainable if I exceed expectations now.

I sighed, rolling my shoulders, I could finally let loose a bit more in my performance. He thinks I'm a scalpel in this case, compared to my brother,

"I'm probably a MAC cannon instead..." I mumbled.

....

"How was your meeting, Eli?" another trainee asked as I walked into a common room, a voice full of curiosity.

Owen-B096, the leader of our team, Serpent Team, was sitting on his bunk, cleaning his gear. He glanced up, offering a half-smile. Owen had always been the calm, collected type, the kind of leader who led by example rather than loud commands. It worked for him. The rest of us respected his approach, even if it did make things seem a little too... methodical sometimes.

"It went fine," I replied, shrugging as I set my rifle down on my bed, "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Jonah-B283, sitting in the corner with his arms crossed, shot me a sceptical look. Jonah wasn't the type to leave things unspoken, especially when it came to something as important as our meetings with the higher-ups. His violent tendencies weren't a secret, and neither was his tendency to pick a fight if the mood struck him.

"You sure about that?" Jonah's voice was low, "seems to me like the commander gave you a stern talking to."

I paused for a second, running a hand through my hair. He wasn't wrong. The meeting had given me a lot to think about. There were more layers to peel back than I initially expected, especially now that I was forced to confront the weight of my abilities and how I used them.

"I'm fine," I said, more to convince myself than anyone else. "Just... adjusting to the new setup."

"Adjusting huh? Well, I can take a guess what he said, pick up the slack or piss off," Jonah spoke his thoughts.

"Woah, Jonah, chill out, he's already been talked to. Why add to that?" Roland said as he tried backing me up.

"What's my problem? It's our problem! Ever since the inception of this team, all of our failures have been because of him! I'm glad that the commander talked to you, I would've been more glad had he kicked you off the programme, though," Jonah exploded.

Well. That was to be expected, in fact, knowing his character from the comics, I was surprised that he hadn't exploded at my ineptitude within the first few weeks.

Owen didn't speak up, electing to see how this was going to play out before stepping in if it got too far. I sighed as I looked him in the eye. He stared back unwaveringly,

"For all your height, strength and speed, you're the most useless trainee I know!"

The room grew silent, the weight of Jonah's words hanging in the air. His outburst had crossed a line, but he didn't seem to care. The insult was harsh, biting, and clearly meant to provoke, but it was also raw—Jonah was airing his frustrations in the only way he knew how.

Well, that was enough of that, time to let loose for real.

"Me, You. In the ring, right now," I said as I stared him dead in the eye.

You really think you can take me on, Eli?" Jonah's voice was low, but it carried a dangerous edge. His earlier anger was now replaced with a challenge, one that could only be settled by fists.

I met his eyes again, unwavering, "You've got a lot to say. Let's see if you can back it up in the ring."

Roland shot me a quick look but said nothing. Owen, however, didn't budge from his spot, watching the whole exchange without interrupting. He knew this was something I had to work out with Jonah, even if it meant things got a little heated.

Jonah cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face. "Fine. Let's settle it. But don't cry when I break you."

I wasn't worried. Jonah's strength was high, but not significant enough for me. Precision and control mattered more—something I was very good at, even if Jonah still underestimated me. Even with that being my focus, my strength is nearly 1.5x his right now.

Once our group reached the gym, I muttered, stepping toward the ring,

"Bring it, no holds barred."

Jonah followed me without hesitation, his movements fast and purposeful. The moment we were inside the sparring circle, I could feel the tension rise once again. This was going to be more than just a fight. It was a statement.

We circled each other, and I could almost feel the weight of every unspoken word between us, every bit of resentment and challenge that had built up over the past few months. Jonah lunged first, a quick, heavy strike aimed at my torso. I sidestepped, using his momentum to redirect his blow and slam my elbow into his ribs.

Jonah grunted but quickly recovered, swinging a wide arc with his fist. I ducked, avoiding the punch, then delivered a quick jab to his side. It wasn't about overpowering him; it was about keeping him off balance, exploiting his predictability.

"so that's how you're going to play," Jonah grunted, but I could see the frustration beginning to mount. He was used to overwhelming opponents with sheer force, but I was making him fight smarter—something he wasn't as comfortable with.

"Keep up," I shot back, my heart relaxed as I danced around his next attack. This wasn't about winning—it was about proving I wasn't the weak link on this team anymore.

I didn't even need to use any spells to boost myself. As Jonah swung again, his movements were faster and more unpredictable. But this time, something shifted within me. I stopped holding back and stopped trying to keep things fair.

I sidestepped Jonah's punch with ease, my footwork lighter, my body moving faster than it had moments ago. I wasn't just reacting anymore; I was predicting.

Jonah's eyes widened as I danced around him, staying just out of his reach. His usual strength was no longer the advantage it once had been. I wasn't faster than him in raw speed, but I could feel the flow of his movements, where he was going before he even decided to act.

With a sudden burst of speed, I feinted left and spun right, landing just inside his reach, my back to his chest.

Jonah's breath caught in his throat, and for the first time, I saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He had expected to overpower me, but now I was the one forcing him to play my game. I wasn't just a Spartan—I was something more.

Grabbing his arm, I hoisted his body onto my back and slammed him into the floor before standing over him.

My feet pinning his arms down, I spoke confidently,

"Yield."

He looked as if he wanted to disagree before I began putting more force onto his arms.

"Fine, I yield," he huffed.

Owen smiled at the conflict being resolved, probably also at the fact that he didn't even need to step in and could just watch.

"Finally, I was wondering when you'd stop pretending," He said, "at least now, we have a chance to go against your brother's team."

Roland looked over at Owen baffled,

"What the hell do you mean Owen?"

Me and Owen smiled at each other.

"Well, it makes sense when you start thinking about the reason that they put people into teams in general," Owen said, "Originally, I thought it truly was because they need someone to be mediocre to balance out teams. That was until we went up against Raptor team.

Roland's confusion only deepened, his brow furrowed as he processed Owen's words. "You're still not making sense, Owen. Teams are simply meant to balance out. What's your point?"

Owen leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as he grinned. "The point is simple. They put teams together based on complementing abilities, not strong and weak. Eli and I... we're not just here to fill a slot. We're meant to balance the team out. And if you really think about it, our team has the potential to challenge any of the others, including your brother's."

I couldn't help but add to Owen's explanation, leaning in just a bit, "Jon's team is formidable, sure. But they rely on sheer strength, precision, and a lot of brute force. That's not the full picture of what a team needs to win."

Jonah shot me a sideways glance, clearly not loving the fact that I was so calm now. But it was true. Strength was important, but it wasn't the only thing that counted when it came to tactics, adaptability, and coordination.

Roland looked between me and Owen, realization starting to set in. "So you're saying what... Eli is the real wild card here?"

Owen nodded, his grin widening. "Exactly. If we can get our strategy down, there's no team we can't face, including Jon's."

Jonah snorted, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes now, "Alright, I get it. You guys are playing the long game."

I rolled my shoulders, feeling the tension ease a little, "It's not about playing games. It's about making sure we're ready when it counts. And that means pushing ourselves past what we think we're capable of."

There was a beat of silence as everyone processed that, and for the first time in a while, I felt a shift in the room. They were starting to get it.

Owen and I weren't just the side players anymore. We had the potential to lead.

"So," Roland said, grinning now, "when do we start putting this plan into motion?"

Owen laughed lightly, his tone full of confidence, "Soon. First, we need to get our act together. And that means everyone pushing their limits. No more holding back on anything."

Jonah cracked his knuckles and gave a smirk. "Good. I've got a few things to prove myself, too."

"Well," I said, looking around at the team, "let's make sure we're all ready. We don't get second chances on the real battlefield."