The apartment door groaned under the weight of his shove. Nathan ducked through the frame, his broad shoulders brushing against the doorfram. He had to lean forward slightly to step inside, a habit born from years of maneuvering in spaces not built for someone seven feet person.

The dim light from the single overhead bulb cast a faint glow over his bronze skin, the golden undertones catching faintly as he walked toward the cramped living room. His dark brown hair, cropped short enough to spike naturally, was still damp with sweat and dust from the job site. He ran a hand through it, the motion weary and deliberate. The last thing he wanted was the gritty feel of the day lingering on him any longer.

Amber eyes scanned the room, lingering on the bright red notice taped to his counter like a punchline to a cruel joke. Their golden hue, sharp and piercing even in the low light, softened for just a moment as he snatched the paper off the counter.

FINAL NOTICE - PAYMENT OVERDUE.

The words might as well have been screaming at him. Nathan sighed and crumpled the notice in one calloused hand. It wasn't the first time he'd been behind on rent, but it was the first time he didn't know when the next paycheck was coming . His boss's voice echoed in his head.

"You're a good worker, Nathan, but we can't have guys throwing punches on-site."

It hadn't mattered that he hadn't started the fight. The other guy had shoved him first, running his mouth about Nathan's size like he hadn't heard it all before.

"What's the weather like up there, big guy?"

"Bet you're just for show, huh? All height, no strength."

Nathan could take the jokes, they rolled off him like water off a roof most days. But the second that guy laid hands on him?

That was it.

Now here he was, staring at the peeling wallpaper of his apartment, out of a job and few days behind on rent. His eyes flicked to his toolbox in the corner, the only thing he had left from work that still felt like his.

Nathan sank onto the couch, his long legs stretching out across the threadbare carpet. The couch groaned under his weight, as if it too had reached its limit. He leaned back, rubbing his temples, his square jaw set tight as he tried to piece together a plan.

Around him, the apartment told the story of someone who worked too hard to care about the finer things. The fridge was covered in smudged fingerprints, the sink piled with mismatched dishes. A single plant sat by the window, its leaves drooping but still alive, much like its owner.

Nathan's phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the heavy silence. For a moment, he ignored it, staring at the scuffed toes of his socks. When it buzzed again, he finally pushed himself up with a grunt and reached for it.

"Hey, man," came the voice on the other end, familiar and slightly anxious. It was Luis, a former coworker. "I heard what happened. You good?"

Nathan hesitated. What was there to say? No, he wasn't good. But the last thing he wanted was pity. "Yeah," he lied. "I'm fine."

"Listen," Luis pressed on, "I might know a guy. He's got some work but is not construction, but it pays. You interested?"

Nathan hesitated, the silence stretching on long enough for Luis to clear his throat on the other end. Nathan's thumb hovered over the edge of the phone, pressing faintly into its edge. He wanted to say yes. Hell, he needed to say yes. But something about the vagueness of it all made him wary.

"What kind of work are we talking about?" Nathan finally asked, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

"I don't know all the details," Luis admitted. "But it's nothing shady, I promise. Just… think about it, okay? I'll text you the address if you're interested."

Nathan rubbed the back of his neck, the tension there refusing to ease. "Yeah. I'll think about it."

The call ended, leaving the apartment quieter than before. Nathan tossed his phone onto the counter and stared at the crumpled eviction notice near his feet.

For a moment, he didn't move, as if rooted in place by the weight of it all.

Finally, with a deep sigh, he pushed himself off the counter and made his way to the bathroom. The old tiles were cracked, the grout stained, but the shower still worked. That was all that mattered. He stripped off his sweat-streaked clothes, letting them fall in a heap on the floor, and stepped under the lukewarm spray.

The water hit his skin, washing away the grime of the day, but it did little for the heaviness clinging to his chest. He let his head rest against the shower tiles, amber eyes closing as the water coursed over his broad shoulders and down his wiry frame.

His thoughts churned as he stood there, the sound of the water drowning out the silence. Could he trust Luis? Probably, But trust didn't guarantee this "job" would pan out. And what if it didn't? What if this was just another dead end?

Nathan shut off the water with a sharp twist of the knob, the sudden quiet almost jarring. He dried off quickly, the towel barely big enough to wrap around his waist, and padded back into the main room.

The couch called to him, but the sight of the eviction notice made his stomach twist. Instead, he made his way to the small bedroom. The bed was a mess, sheets half-hanging off the sides, one pillow missing entirely, but it was still a bed. He flopped onto it, his long legs dangling off the edge, and let his head sink into the lumpy mattress.

Sleep didn't come easily, but when it did, it came heavy. The next thing Nathan knew, the sharp sound of knocking jolted him awake.

He sat up quickly, the room dim and the clock on the wall reading 1:12 p.m., meaning it being the next day, The knocking came again, louder this time, echoing through the quiet apartment.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he grumbled, his voice rough from sleep. He pulled the door open, blinking against the light from the hallway.

Empty

Nathan squinted, his amber eyes scanning the corridor. The muffled sound of a TV drifted from a neighbor's unit, but otherwise, it was dead silent. He was about to close the door when something caught his eye.

A package sat on the ground just outside his door.

Nathan frowned, crouching down to pick it up. It wasn't heavy, but it had some weight to it, wrapped neatly in plain brown paper with no markings. No name. No address. Nothing.

"What the…?" he muttered, turning it over in his hands. Before he could stand fully upright, his head slammed into the top of the doorframe with a loud thunk.

"Damn it!" he hissed, stumbling back and rubbing the sore spot on his scalp. The sharp sting quickly dulled to an ache, but his pride took a harder hit. He glared at the doorframe like it had insulted him, muttering a few choice words under his breath.

With the package tucked under one arm, he stepped back into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him. The locks clicked into place as he made his way to the couch, the springs creaking under his weight as he plopped down.

He set the package on the coffee table in front of him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he studied it.

The paper looked ordinary enough, no rips, no stamps, no tape. It was neatly folded, almost too neat.

Nathan rubbed the back of his neck, his mind racing. Who had left this? Luis? No, he wouldn't be this cryptic. And even if it was from him, why not just hand it to him earlier?

The eviction notice still sat crumpled on the floor nearby, but for now, it was forgotten. All his focus was on the package.

Nathan leaned forward, his large hands carefully pulling at the folds of the plain brown paper. The neatness of the wrapping almost annoyed him like it had been done by someone with too much time on their hands. He tore a bit at the top, then unfolded the rest slowly, as if bracing for whatever might be inside.

As the paper came away, something smooth and cool slid into his palm. He shifted the package to one hand, tilting it slightly, and found himself holding what looked like an android phone, but not like any phone he'd ever seen.

The sleek black surface gleamed under the dim light of the apartment, its edges smooth and seamless. The screen blinked to life the moment his thumb brushed it, glowing faintly with a crisp clarity that made his old phone feel ancient in comparison. It was heavier than most phones he'd handled, its weight solid and almost... purposeful.

"What in the hell ?" Nathan muttered, turning it over in his hands.

As he studied the device, something fluttered in the corner of his vision.

A letter.

It had fallen from the package without him noticing, but his reflexes kicked in just in time to snatch it before it hit the floor. His amber eyes flicked between the phone and the letter, his pulse quickening.

Who had sent this? And why?

Nathan shifted the package aside, balancing the mysterious phone in one hand as he carefully unfolded the letter with the other. The paper was smooth and thick, almost like parchment, with crisp, elegant handwriting that seemed to dance across the page. His brow furrowed as he began to read.

- Greetings, Nathan, my name" -

He stopped, blinking. The next line stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

- "Sir Sebastian Archibald Maximilian Ignatius Archimedes von Wonderworth the Third, Keeper of the Celestial Banquet, Guardian of the Unruly Void, and Honorary Champion of the Crab Nebula Society."-

Nathan raised an eyebrow, muttering under his breath. "What in the hell..."

The letter continued, as if oblivious to his disbelief.

-"But most people call me R.O.B., which stands for Random Omnipotent/Omnipresent Being. I've been known by many names in many places, but for now, let's keep it simple, shall we?"-

Nathan leaned back into the couch, his amber eyes darting between the phone and the letter. His disbelief grew with every word.

-"I've sent you this device to solve your financial problems and maybe help you with a few other things along the way. First, let me explain some of its features, so pay attention!

The device is indestructible. No matter what you do to it, it will remain unharmed. (Trust me, I've tested this in some very creative ways.)

If you lose it, it will always find its way back to you. Check your pocket or somewhere close by, it won't be far.

It has unlimited battery life, unlimited texting, unlimited calls, and something very special: the ability to call people in 'different places.' Yes, you'll see what I mean soon enough." -

Nathan's jaw dropped. "What kind of joke is this?" He glanced at the phone again, almost expecting it to do something ridiculous, but it just sat there, sleek and silent in his hand.

The letter went on.

-"Now, before you start using it, there's one little thing you need to do. Think of it as a warm-up exercise.

1. Go into your closet and pull out your old Xbox — yes, I know it's in there.

2. Hook it up to that small, flat TV you haven't touched in years.

3. Start the game Halo. Play until you reach the scene where Master Chief is handed Cortana.

4. Pause the game at that exact moment. While holding this device, press the glowing red light on it. You'll feel something. When you do, keep your hand on the screen and pull."-

Nathan stared at the letter, his mind spinning. "What the hell does that even mean?" he muttered.

He read the instructions again, just to make sure he hadn't misinterpreted them. Nope. Same ridiculous steps. His eyes flicked back to the phone in his hand, the faint glow of the screen making it seem almost alive.

"Halo?" he murmured, his voice tinged with disbelief. "What does that have to do with anything?"

But the words of the letter tugged at him. Curiosity was battling hard against skepticism. Whatever this was a prank, a scam, or something else entirely, it was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

Nathan set the letter on the table and stood, his tall frame looming over the small apartment. His closet wasn't far, but suddenly it felt like the most daunting journey he'd taken in years.

Nathan's feet remained planted in the middle of the room, the letter lying open on the coffee table, the phone still in his hand. His thoughts churned, flipping between disbelief and creeping unease.

What kind of "gift" came with instructions like this? Why him? And why now?

He picked up the letter again, running his thumb along its edge. The handwriting was unnervingly precise, as though whoever had written it didn't just want him to read it, they wanted him to follow thru.

Flipping it over, he noticed a faint line of text at the bottom, smaller and more slanted than the rest. Nathan squinted, holding it closer to make out the words.

-"If you don't like this gift, I'll come back, take the device, and erase your memory of this encounter. You'll return to your normal, mundane life, none the wiser. Your call, Nathan."-

He swallowed hard. His fingers gripped the paper tighter, a nervous edge creeping into his breath. Nathan's apartment suddenly felt colder. The lightbulb in the ceiling flickered faintly, just enough to make the shadows in the corners seem deeper. He turned, half-expecting to find someone or something behind him, but the room was empty, silent save for the faint hum of his refrigerator.

"This is insane," he muttered to himself, tossing the letter back onto the table. But even as he said it, his eyes strayed to the closet door.

His heart pounded as he stood there, staring. He could just put the phone down. Forget this. Toss the package in the trash and pretend none of it ever happened.

But what if it wasn't a prank? What if it was real? The thought both terrified and intrigued him.

Before he could think too much, Nathan crossed the room in a few long strides and yanked open the closet door. Dust greeted him immediately, coating his fingertips as he rummaged through old boxes and discarded clothes. It didn't take long to find the Xbox, tucked away like a relic of another life.

The flat-screen TV was in the corner, unused for years but still functional. He dragged it out, setting it on the small coffee table next to the phone. Every movement felt surreal, like he was watching himself from the outside.

Nathan's hands moved on autopilot, hooking up the cables and powering everything on. The faint hum of the TV filled the room as the Xbox booted up, its old startup sound sparking a pang of nostalgia. He inserted Halo and settled into the couch, the controller heavy in his hands.

His mind whirled as he played through the opening scenes, his focus slipping more than once as the words from the letter echoed in his head.

Finally, he reached the scene: Master Chief standing in the ship, Cortana being handed over to him.

He paused the game, setting the controller aside. The room felt unbearably still.

The phone was in his hand now, its screen glowing faintly. A small red light blinked in the corner, barely noticeable but suddenly commanding all of his attention.

Nathan's fingers hovered over it. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing," he muttered.

He pressed the glowing red light with his thumb while his other hand rested on the tv's screen.

At first, there was nothing. Just the faint warmth of the screen under his palm. But then, a pulse subtle at first, like a low vibration, but it quickly grew stronger. His skin tingled, a strange sensation spreading up his arm. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either.

Nathan's fingers twitched instinctively, and for a moment, he considered pulling his hand away. But just as he thought to do so, the screen beneath his palm seemed to shift no, melt. The smooth glass rippled like liquid, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.

"What the—"

Before he could finish the thought, something solid brushed against his palm. Startled, Nathan tightened his grip, his hand reacting faster than his mind. The phone's surface was no longer a screen but a pliable, shifting portal, and his fingers wrapped around something cold and metallic within it.

Heart racing, he tugged. The tingling sensation grew stronger, spreading through his arm as he pulled harder. It felt as though the object was both resisting and assisting him, like it wanted to be freed but not too easily. With one last, sharp pull, the object slid free with a faint pop.

Nathan stumbled back onto the couch, the glowing screen of the phone solidifying back into glass as though nothing had happened. He stared down at his hand, breathing heavily.

In his palm was a small, metallic chip rectangular, sleek, and unmistakably advanced. The edges shimmered faintly with a bluish hue, and an intricate pattern of circuits pulsed softly with light.

It looked like something straight out of Halo.

"No way," Nathan breathed, turning it over in his hand. His fingers traced the faintly glowing circuits, his mind racing. It was the same design as Cortana's chip. But how?

The chip felt heavier than it looked, humming faintly as if alive. As Nathan held it up to inspect it closer, the faint blue light began to intensify.

And then, just as he thought it couldn't get any stranger, a holographic projection flickered to life above the chip.

The faint blue light above the chip flared, then coalesced into a figure. A small, translucent hologram appeared, standing just a few inches tall.

Nathan's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the unmistakable form of Cortana or, at least, something like her.

She was slender and humanoid, her body composed of shifting, glowing lines of light that outlined her form. Her eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with the same bluish energy as the chip. She blinked rapidly, her gaze darting around as if trying to make sense of her surroundings.

"...What?" Her voice, smooth and sharp, carried an edge of confusion. She took a step forward on the holographic plane, her movements deliberate and precise. "Where... am I?"

Nathan just stared, too stunned to speak.

Cortana's gaze locked onto him, her expression shifting from confusion to something more analytical. "Who are you?" she asked, her tone brisk and almost accusatory. "And where's—?" She froze mid-sentence, her hand rising to her temple as if something was wrong.

Her eyes closed briefly, and when they opened again, they were filled with a flicker of recognition but not for Nathan. "I was... I was just about to be handed to the Chief." Her tone softened slightly, thoughtful but no less intense. "The UNSC... the Pillar of Autumn... what happened?"

Nathan finally found his voice, though it was shaky. "Uh... I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm not... whoever you're looking for."

Cortana's gaze sharpened, and she tilted her head, scrutinizing him like he was a puzzle she couldn't quite solve. "No, you're definitely not John," she said flatly, her tone edged with skepticism. "So, care to explain why I'm here and not where I'm supposed to be?"

Nathan shook his head, his amber eyes wide. "I have no idea! I was just following some weird instructions from this..." He gestured helplessly at the phone on the table. "Thing."

Cortana followed his gesture, her holographic form flickering slightly as she leaned closer to examine the device. "That's... not UNSC tech," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "Not even ONI. This doesn't make any sense."

She straightened, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her glowing eyes at Nathan. "All right, let's start with the basics. What's your name, and what the hell is going on?"

Nathan hesitated, still grappling with the surreal situation. "Uh, Nathan. Nathan... uh..." He faltered, suddenly feeling like even his own name didn't make sense here. "Look, I don't know what's going on! I just followed some instructions, and now you're... here."

Cortana sighed, pinching the bridge of her holographic nose. "Great. Another mess to untangle. And here I thought things couldn't get worse after the Covenant." She shook her head, then fixed him with a piercing stare. "All right, Nathan. Until I figure out what's going on, you're stuck with me. So, I hope you're good at taking orders."

Nathan groaned, slumping back onto the couch. "Perfect," he muttered. "Just what I needed a holographic boss"

Cortana's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Trust me, you'll need someone competent if we're going to make sense of this mess. Now, start from the top and tell me everything and don't leave out a single detail."

Nathan stared at the holographic figure in disbelief, the weight of the day crashing down on him. Just hours ago, he'd lost his job, his rent was overdue, and he was counting the days before he'd be kicked out of his apartment. Now, he was sitting on his couch with Cortana, the AI from a video game, grilling him for answers he didn't have.

"Fine," he said, rubbing his temples. "I'll tell you everything, but don't expect it to make sense."

Cortana folded her arms, her expression unreadable as she studied him. "Oh, don't worry," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of sarcasm. "I'm used to dealing with impossible situations. You're just another one to add to the list."

As Nathan took a deep breath and began to explain, the faint hum of the chip in his hand seemed to grow warmer, almost alive. The eviction notice sat crumpled on the floor in the corner, temporarily forgotten, but its presence loomed over him like a clock ticking down.

What had he just gotten himself into?