A few readers have asked me to elaborate on why I think the closing scene of Halo Infinite has only one interpretation, namely that the Weapon must take the name "Cortana." For the most salient evidence, consider the fact that Esparza doesn't even wait for an answer to his own question; he fully understands what the Weapon is implying with her answer about having "picked the perfect one."
If you need further convincing, watch for yourself. I've embedded the scene above, courtesy of GameClips. We'll take it line by line just as we did for another scene in the "On Dialogue" section of the Addenda:
Esparza starts the awkwardness by asking what to call the Weapon.
Chief then prompts her for any ideas—meaning, "Yeah, what the heck should we call you?" Nothing controversial here. We can all agree so far.
When the Weapon replies, "Well..." we know that she already has an answer, but she's reluctant to share it. (Why would she be reluctant to share "Dzwaiyeuhze?" Is she afraid they're going to clown on her?)
This is an important piece of evidence for our case. She has either already been thinking of what name to take for some time (which, for the sake of argument, could be "Joyeuse") or she's been put on the spot, and instantly conjures the "perfect one."
In the latter case, the answer must be "Cortana." Even if her brain is the size of several Libraries of Alexandria (and with the Weapon the odds are marginal), it rings false that she would make a deep-cut reference to Song of Roland in front of these two slack-jawed illiterates without furnishing a crumb of context. And even if she divulged her spiffy new name, they definitely wouldn't have any idea what she's talking about.
Her answer can therefore only plausibly be "Joyeuse" if she has been ruminating on this decision for a while—but that would be foolish. In character for the dopey Weapon, perhaps, but it's a bit optimistic about her chances, isn't it? As far as anyone knows, she's still next in line for deletion. The navy is not going to recommission her and start a new production line of shipborne AIs simply because she helped the Master Chief move a sofa. (Hence why you don't let the kids name the chickens.)
What has she done for humanity to think that ONI won't simply destroy her at the next available? Yes, we all know she stopped Escharum from firing his Space Gun at Earth (totally normal behavior for "just a soldier"), but who was present to attest to that? The Master Chief, apart from being publicly declared dead several times, has been slandered as a traitor since his heyday. Something tells me the people carving "traitor" into Chief-themed propaganda might not be moved by personal testimony. So daydreaming about what to call yourself is somewhat premature for our dear Weapon.
I think this is a point for us, but we're still in the realm of conjecture. We need ironclad evidence.
She then asks him, "Do you think it would be okay?"
Listen to the tentative nature of the question and the apprehension in her voice. It's not, "Do you think it would be okay [if I named myself]?" ("Because I wanna be called 'Laser Ass!'") It's more like, "Do you think you'd be okay hearing her name for the next thirty years while they keep making these games?" She's assessing his degree of comfort with her taking the name of his ex.
That's still conjecture, but it's also the simplest conclusion based on the line read.
If she's thinking "Joyeuse," then the question must be interpreted as a request for permission. (That's how the writers justify it in a recent Halo Waypoint post, too—more on that below. If you buy that logic, I have a bridge to sell you.)
After Chief nods in response, she asks again if he's sure.
If she's only asking if it's okay to pick a name—which she would have to be if she's thinking of any name that isn't "Cortana"—isn't that a bit much? Why so much hesitation? It's like, "Yes, I already told you. What am I, your dad?" Starting to look more doubtful that she was about to whip out "Joyeuse."
The repeated question establishes that they're discussing not whether but what. She asks if he, who already knows where she's going with it, would be comfortable with her making the agent decision to take "Cortana" as her name now and forever. It's a step across the threshold. A point of no return.
The Master Chief replies, "You get to choose your name," meaning, "Who am I to tell you 'no?' If you want to make this tribute to Cortana, knock yourself out. I've grieved. I'm cool." ("Who has hangups? I don't have hangups.")
The writers are leaning on this line alone for license to deviate from the original intent, but it cannot perform the work they're asking of it, because the rest of the scene refutes this view entirely. (Please also note that he emphasizes "you" and not "get"; we're talking about who gets to make the choice, not whether she is permitted to have a name before ONI's asset team deletes her forthwith and neuralyzes everybody involved.)
After that exchange, the Weapon turns back to address Esparza—the guy who asked the question in the first place—and says, "I think I might have the perfect one." This is important! She says this to Esparza. It is a direct response to his question because they're still in conversation. Among friends, questions typically receive answers.
Tight zoom to the face. Moment of truth. The name is on her lips...
Music swells. Big smiles, high energy... Cortana.
Newp! Joy-ooze.
Come on. What the hell else are we cheering on with the triumphant music? "Yeah, my name is Ralph?"
As I've said elsewhere, the most damning evidence is Esparza's response: nada. He doesn't say, "Okay, what is it?" and fold his hands for the Powerpoint presentation on obscure Frankish lays; he guns the engines at Mach One into the rolling credits, because everyone in the bird already understands that she's chosen "Cortana" as her name.
If Esparza doesn't know exactly what she's talking about (and if she's thinking "Joyeuse" he cannot) then it is exceedingly rude for him to just leave the conversation and start up the Pelican to Chili's, no matter how soon happy hour ends.
There's no other interpretation that makes sense without willingly ignoring this inconvenient scene. The ending—and the plot action of the game itself—was obviously written to set up the Weapon to take Cortana's name, as a tribute within the universe, and as recompense without.
I don't think nominative determinism is a good enough reason to effectively "decanonize" what we all saw and experienced in Halo Infinite. I can't presume to know why they felt that this change was important (apart from not wishing to annoy some people who complained loudly enough), suffice to say that there's a distinct stink of "protesting too much" in the aforementioned Halo Waypoint post.
The writers have expressly and consciously glossed this to flex a bit of Marathon trivia. It's a bummer.
Since everyone likes a nice game-development conspiracy theory (of the "Red Dead Redemption II is about the Housers' fraught relationship" variety), watch (Pax) Cortana's final scene in Halo Infinite with this idea in mind: doesn't it sound an awful lot like she's reprimanding the past Halo writers who thought it was a good idea to kill her off and make her evil in the first place?
If it's not directly addressed to them (because that would break the fourth wall), it's at least a direct refutation of their ideas to put you, the disgruntled fan still sore about Halo 5: Guardians, at ease (emphasis mine):
"Look at us. We just keep saying goodbye, don't we? But this isn't an end. It's a chance to make amends. To rectify mistakes. And it starts here. I was wrong. I thought that I could do this on my own, but I forgot that the whole point of this, the entire reason I chose you in the first place, was that we were supposed to be a team. Perfectly suited. Perfectly matched. Perfectly perfect. In these final moments, I know what my last mission is. I need to make sure you two learn from my mistakes. Become stronger because of them. I chose well, Master Chief, I really did. Now it's up to you..." (1:38:34)
...the custodians of the franchise, not to mess with the formula again. Whoops!
(See the "On Dialogue" section of the Addendum for a discussion about the "Pick Two" problem at work in these lines. Put simply: it's twice as long as it needs to be. Not being an "end" implies a "start." Rectifying mistakes is "making amends." The "whole point" and the "entire reason" are the same thing. To be "suited" is to be "matched." In your "final" moments, you most certainly are undertaking your "last" mission. In this context, "learning" from Cortana's mistakes and becoming "stronger" (in character, as a pair) are two formulations of the same idea.)
One reader sent me this recent Halo Waypoint post, in which the writers over-explain this creative decision as part of Cortana's "continued legacy," and asked what I make of its arguments—so I'll briefly address the claims made in the "Joyeuse Exultation" section of that article now.
(I can only respond to those remarks because I haven't yet read Halo: Edge of Dawn, which I perforce regard as a flimsy candy wrapper around the "nougaty center" of a monumentally misguided decision, to see how they sneak around the closing scene of Halo Infinite. From the preview chapter linked in that post and rumblings online, it seems like they sidestep the issue entirely and proceed directly to meatballs.)
So, having now read it—can I be frank? I think the writers are being purposefully disingenuous.
The obvious intent of Halo Infinite's closing scene is to reveal that the Weapon's name is "Cortana." The dialogue affords no creative latitude to take the story in another direction. You can, of course, do anything you wish when you hold the reins, but it rightfully opens you to criticism for "retconning" something that was already established. (I'm doing my part!)
When identifying the two "key lines" that contextualize the choice of "Joyeuse," the writers are actually identifying the sources of their inspiration.
To say that this scene has been "variously interpreted" is insulting to fans' intelligences. Though Cortana did profess a mortal fear of replacement by a similar construct, we've already trod that ground. The Weapon embodies that prophetic forecast—and she's not Cortana, nor would she be even if she took on her forebear's name. The scope of Cortana's original statement is not inclusive of whether the replacement bears her name, and anything she said in the past would not preclude the Weapon from poaching her name, because doing so would not make her Cortana. This argument is a canard.
They insist on the importance of one of the Master Chief's lines ("You get to pick your name.") and the ol' "It won't be me!" as the dual fulcrum of their entire rationale, implicitly and preemptively assailing future jokesters like me—who might allege that they hadn't any damn business making the change—from the comfortable vantage of Waypoint, safely unnoticed between game installments ("See, he said it right here that it was okay!"). This defense necessarily implies that the writers of Halo Infinite were spineless twerps who kicked the can on committing to a name.
You didn't mean that, did you?
Their whole argument for making the change is bunko. As we've covered here, the Master Chief is not telling the Weapon to go hog-wild and proclaim herself Excalibur, but to perform the loving act of tribute she's actively considering. The ellipsed conclusion of the conversation (i.e., electing not to state her chosen name) is not a cowardly evasion by the original writers ("We'll just decide later...") but a contextual device.
(Assuming any of the Halo Infinite writers find themselves among the people making this change, I wish to congratulate them on repealing yet another narrative decision in response to some grumbling from a vocal minority of Halo fans. Way to thicken your skin, folks!)
You are supposed to understand from this scene that her name is Cortana. She doesn't need to say it, because it's understood by the dialogue and the visuals dazzling our little eyes that the balance has been restored, Pax Cortana is forgiven, and the Master Chief and Cortana are finally riding out together again. ("Since the beginning, Halo was about Master Chief and Cortana...")
Imagine, for a moment, that she did verbalize her choice.
You've just finished Halo Infinite. After toppling Escharum, waxing the Harbinger, and saving the day, this scene elapses, and the Weapon concludes by saying, "I think I might have the perfect one: Joyeuse."
It would land flat. It's a total non sequitur. Nothing in the game sets up this head-snapping departure. The writers don't even have the weaselly logic of "Well, if you'd read Halo: Tequila Sunrise (or collected Audio Log #37, wherein Lasky plucks his nose hairs) you would understand!"
Go back and watch the scene again. If the next word out of her mouth were "Joyeuse," the music swell would seem completely out of place—like peering into an empty hotel bar blasting Lady Gaga at two in the afternoon. It's like, "Run that one by me again? Did you say 'Joy Ooze?'"
Conversely, had she said "Cortana," the music swell fits perfectly! Of course she's Cortana! Cortana the First was just dealt a raw hand! We're going to restore her name to its former grandeur as she heads to new adventures beside her tireless knight! We go to the credits humming along with the track.
This probably accounts for the defensive tone on display in the Waypoint post. By putting out this "PR statement" a few months before the book's release, doesn't it sort of sound like they're really saying something else? "We get to pick her name—so suck it up, chuds!"
One stray line from the Master Chief cannot be cajoled into the meaning with which they've attempted to imbue it.
In literary criticism terms, the writers have done what's called "reading onto the text." Given all his fond musings about girlhood in Through the Looking-Glass, you could argue that Lewis Carroll actually wanted to be a little girl—but to prove it, you sort of have to torture context and ellipse quotations until your reader can finally only shrug his shoulders and go, "Sure, maybe." A lot of painful posturing to end the contest in a draw.
(That example was the real, honest-to-God thesis of a visiting lecturer at my university, whose book presentation summarily convinced me there was no useful work being done in literary academia.)
All of this to say, they're certainly within their rights to change whatever they please, but none of us has to be happy about it—and especially not when the change makes no sense whatsoever. Lucky for them, most Halo fans have yet to notice the change took place, but you'd better believe it's going to be a colossal shit storm whenever a "Halo 7" comes out, and a new vector for scorn from the fans who think everything after 2007 has been lousy.
But I guess I'm just stupid, right? A person inclined to "various interpretations?"
Answered on January 14, 2026.
