When you're a war journalist, you see a lot of horrible stuff. All the stories I've done,

I've seen the absolute worst of humanity, but I've also gotten to see the best. Six years ago,

I saw him, the greatest, most mysterious hero of our time, up close in action.

I witnessed firsthand what he did that day, and it changed everything for me.

Anyone listening to this knows exactly who I'm talking about.

The guy who saved us, Saved Earth, saved mankind.

Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan 117.

Whom we now know is simply the Master Chief.

A few months ago, I was hired to do an in-depth profile on the Chief.

Exclusive access, the whole thing.

Since then, I've gotten to talk to a lot of people

who claim they know the real Master Chief, the boy, the soldier, the hero, the traitor.

See, I've always known where a story was going before it started. I'd known exactly the story I

wanted to tell

for years. The story all of us wanted to hear. Glossy, inspiring, the Blockbuster Hero

Biography. That's all this was supposed to be. But the truth isn't always that clean. When I pulled

that first loose thread, something broke.

Now everything is caving in and I find myself stuck with all these ugly questions, questions

I never intended to ask.

Fabricated histories, people who aren't who they say they are, cover-ups of cover-ups,

that steady drumbeat of theories that used to sound insane now they don't seem so out there.

And these disturbing rumors, reports of anomalies, something big is happening in deep space,

...