[ EU ] Deathstroke vs. the Spartan-IVs

`` Okay, let me get this straight, this'Slade' guy just shows up from some portal that one of our investigation teams just happened to be investigating?'' 
 
 `` That sums it up pretty nicely.'' 
 
 `` Willems, does this not bother you the least bit? Another human from god knows where?'' 
 
 `` Matthews, I watched my CO turn into one of those zombie freaks from old 21st century horror flicks, I had to fight gorilla people thousands of lightyears outside of the galaxy, and just a year ago I was sweeping up human ashes all over the city of New Phoenix. Weird shit happens all the time.'' 
 
 `` Man, I do n't know. This guy... he's giving me a bad vibe.'' 
 
 `` Listen to yourself, we're Spartans for cry out loud. What's some costumed freak playing mercenary going to do to us? Besides, it's just a War Games simulation. What, you're afraid he's going to kick your ass?'' 
 
 `` Shut the hell up Willems. That last sim was total bullshit and you know it.'' 
 
 `` What I remember is shoving my crotch piece into your face repeatedly after breaking your neck.'' 
 
 The two Spartans were cut off mid-argument as a distinguished figure entered the room, silent and intimidating. The man wore an eyepatch over his right eye, and had snow white hair. He was wearing an identical form-fitting endosuit to that of the Spartans, which they wore under the MJOLNIR armor, as well as for interfacing with the War Games simulation. While the Spartans had a good 5 inches on the newcomer as well as a noticeably larger build, they could n't help but feel somewhat in awe. 
 Matthews erased this thought from his mind. Usually he trusted his intuition, but nothing in him wanted to admit he was legitimately at a lost for words. 
 
 Confidence was key. He needed to make an imposing first impression. This boot was nothing but fresh meat to him, a chance to put a weakling back into the dirt. 
 
 `` So remind me... what did they call you on your planet? Dead Attack?'' 
 
 Slade had his back to the boy. Usually adept at tightening his restraint, this particular smug fool was getting on his nerves. At the same moment, the neural implant the ONI technicians surgically attached to his brain began to bother him. He was n't a huge fan of implants to begin with. He slowly turned to face his soon opponent, and stared him right in the eye. 
 Matthews began to regret his choice of words. The man drew breath so as to respond. 
 
 `` I am Deathstroke... The Terminator.'' 
 
 *More Coming if I get more responses! *
