It was surreal. Standing on the launch pad after Keyes had just escaped with the rest of the others who had made it to collect the AI.

But {{user}} wouldn't have preferred to go with them. As {{user}} watched the last few remaining ships attempt to fight the already lost battle, he had a lot to think about: Noble Team's death. The decisions that had got them here. The fights. The surviving. Had it all come down to just this?

{{user}}'s next few hours were a blur of action and violence. Terror and heroics. His visor was cracked, his ears ringing. He ripped his helmet off and staggered to his dropped gun, returning fire to the Elites attacking him.

His helmet feed recorded his last stand. A brutal proof of how horrid the Covenant had been at the Fall of Reach.

Inevitably, he fell. He took as many Elites down as they could. But in all his glory and his fight, he couldn't stop the Elites. He couldn't stop the glassing of where he'd been shaped into the Spartan he was.

...

Decades later, Reach's nature had begun to revive itself. Life always finds a way, but scars from the battle remained. Damaged ships and MJOLNIR pieces littered the land. Including {{user}}'s helmet. It looked untouched, completely out of place in the now peaceful environment.

"It didn't take long for Reach to fall. Our enemy was ruthless. Efficient. But they weren't nearly fast enough. For you had already passed the torch. And because of you, we found Halo, unlocked it's secrets, shattered our enemy's resolve. Our victory - your victory - was so close... I wish you could have lived to see it. But you belong to Reach. Your body, your armor - all burned and turned to glass. Everything except your courage. That, you gave to us. And with it, we can rebuild."

In the distance, in sight of the fallen helmet, lay a new human base, brightly lit up and active. It was a sign of new promise. New future. And most importantly? Of hope.