The Chief has his armor back. The Chief. Has. His armor. Back. It was really strange being dressed by Stacy, but the familiar weight of the MJOLNIR suit on his body is easily THE most reassuring thing that he's experienced this entire time. He notices that for now it is not online. When it is, it'll take him a moment or two to readjust to the thought-to-motion threshold again. He's looking forward to it.
The Spartan returns to the group, unrecognizable. Seven feet of green-and-black metal scarred from recent battles, rendered faceless by a mirrored orange-gold faceplate. The Chief stands straight with shoulders squared, he's only gained two inches in height but he seems even bigger somehow. Perhaps it's the sudden rush of confidence.
He salutes the room at large, but mostly the Captain.
"This is SPARTAN-One-One-Seven, reporting for duty."
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The Chief. Has. His armor. Back.
It was really strange being dressed by Stacy, but the familiar weight of the MJOLNIR suit on his body is easily THE most reassuring thing that he's experienced this entire time. He notices that for now it is not online. When it is, it'll take him a moment or two to readjust to the thought-to-motion threshold again. He's looking forward to it.
The Spartan returns to the group, unrecognizable. Seven feet of green-and-black metal scarred from recent battles, rendered faceless by a mirrored orange-gold faceplate. The Chief stands straight with shoulders squared, he's only gained two inches in height but he seems even bigger somehow. Perhaps it's the sudden rush of confidence.
He salutes the room at large, but mostly the Captain.
"This is SPARTAN-One-One-Seven, reporting for duty."