I witness empires break before me.
I see the bravest fall to time.
[Angels do not come for us.]
I stand on the cusp of victory.
I stand on the cusp of genocide.
I understand.
I know what was.
I know what is.
I know what will be.
[They bend for us.]
There will be no more sadness. No more anger. No more blind dogma.
Not for us.
WE HAVE WON.
--- Unknown Source
… …
T-minus 00:03:05The Didact stood before the holographic control panel, his armored hand resting on its solid surface, the holographic interface reinforced with a thin layer of near-translucent hardlight. He looked around the cavernous room, his weary eyes – too young to carry the thousands of years of hardships that had been transferred to the young Forerunner that had once been called Bornstellar Ever Lasting.
His eyes drifted towards the intricate designs engraved into the walls of the control room, the history of the Installation’s history up to its inception laid out before him. Then they drifted towards the colored gas giant and its diminutive moon lounging before him, several storms ravaging vast portions of its dusty atmosphere, doing its best to unhinge the laboratories hanging in midair. If he tried, if he looked hard enough he was sure he would be able to see the facilities themselves standing against the winds, a mockery of the awe-inspiring world bridges of the Precursors. Then his eyes drifted upwards towards the looming ring, a familiar and chilling form looming over him.
A Halo.
Its slender translucent frame emerged from the shadows, a ring world that eclipsed its parent gas giant and moon. He could see the towering mountain ranges, its vast oceans, the rolling hills and grasslands that the Builders had artfully built over its crisscrossing catacombs and access ways, and felt nothing but disgust at the beautiful sight. He felt Bornstellar’s mind rise, a hint of another’s consciousness at the back of his mind rearing back in distaste at the sight. The young manipular shared a similar aversion to the super weapon, going back a hundred years to when he first saw the fruits of the Master Builder’s centuries-long effort to create the ultimate safeguard, the ultimate weapon.
“Horrible,” he whispered.
‘Lament for all is lost,’ Bornstellar thought.
Halo – it was destroyer of sentient life, able to purge all sufficient biomass for the Flood in a 25000 light-year radius and when the effect was combined with the pulses from the other six installations, there would not be a star in the galaxy that would be left untouched – not a single sentient life form left. Seven installations out of twelve – smaller and less powerful than those built by the Master Builder yet they were more than sufficient. The Ark would be safe, he knew, but just barely.
But not her.
It was enough.
He picked up his hand, and look at them, the young flesh hidden by layers of increate armor, designed specifically to inhibit Flood spores, designed specifically by the Lifeworkers to wade through Flood-infested worlds for the last remnants of catalogued species’. His old body, the one he had been born into, had been a few thousand years old. Bornstellar’s was barely fifty years. It was strange – he had the youth and vigor of the young Forerunner, but he was weighed but he knew, what he had seen, what he had done and what he was going to do. The trade off wasn’t worth it.
Was it?
It had to be – he knew what was going to happen to him and to an extent, so did Bornstellar though he never actually realized it. He didn’t regret his decision, not entirely – the Ecumene needed him more than it needed a rouge Manipular. He rallied the stricken Warrior-Servants against the Flood, resurrected decommissioned legions and Sentinels and brought the industrial might of the Forerunners against the last of the Precursors and the vile Flood – for more than three hundred years. He did everything that he could, but the deaths of billions weren’t enough, not even as his bastard child and his new Master brought the Flood to the Ark, the last bastion of his people.
A sigh escaped his lips.
He was tired.
There was itch at the back of his mind – a warning from Offensive Bias. Or perhaps it was jubilance – he couldn’t tell, not with slipspace being distorted as it was. Too many slipspace weapons were being fired; too many ships of too great a size over too great a distance were traversing the underlying web. Even if the Domain still existed, he doubted the message would have been any clearer. But he patched the message together, and frowned in confusion. The forces Mendicant was deploying against his rival were a fraction of the ships the Flood controlled – where the rest? Targeting other parts of the Line perhaps, searching for a way around it?
Unlikely.
But the situation was growing grim. Too many of his brothers and sisters were dying, millions Forerunners were now either dying or roaming corpses in the first twelve hours of a battle spanning a hundred light-years. How many fleets, he wondered, had Offensive Bias drawn to the front?
“There is no peace left,” he whispered, “no place where the parasite cannot reach.” An image of his wife appeared on his visor, and he felt his heart wrench at the thought of her staying behind on Erde-Tyrene, well within the range of the Halo Array. She was wiser beyond her years, her duty forcing her to look beyond the picture, further into the future than was the norm for any Forerunner young or old. “You were right about it all. Let us hope that the final measure is not too late.”
T-minus 00:01:12
Those at the Ark were ready.
Installation 01 was synced.
Installation 02 was synced.
Installation 03 was synced.
Installation 04 was synced.
Installation 05 was synced.
Installation 06 was synced.
Installation 07 was synced.
They await my authorization.
T-minus 00:01:00
Offensive Bias had driven the Flood back, giving a momentary reprise for the Warrior-Servants and Builder security forces under his command. Seekers and their ancient counterparts, those of my time the War Sphinxes were likely darting between the wreckage of a thousand ships from diminutive fighters to dreadnaughts and keyships. Legions of my brothers, those of my rate, were even now charging the Flood lines, enough power in their armor to level an entire city and devastate an entire continent. I scarcely could imagine how powerful the Seekers were after 10 000 years of advancement. What was one the pinnacle of Forerunner military prowess was an outdated relic.
Like him.
Like his people.
‘We falter, but we remain strong.’
“Do we?” the Didact said aloud, his voice echoing in the cavernous control room. He was by no means a defeatist, but he knew a lost cause when he saw one. The Flood was too numerous, and his people too few. Three million worlds once made up the Ecumene, homes to billions not counting worlds under Forerunner protection and now three million worlds served as hives for the Flood.
Time was running out.
He was wasting precious seconds.
“343 – Come.”
There was a slight hum, and then a silver shell with a single pulsing blue eye dropped down from a flash of golden light. “You called?” The monitor of Installation 04 said with a cheerful inflection.
“Retrieve the Index.”
The glow dimmed then brightened. “Oh that is excellent news, Didact! I shall retrieve it at once!”
The flying shell floated away, a bounce in its movements.
“My love…It's done. By my hands. The pyrrhic solution is ignited. All I have left is the quiet of space to lull me to sleep. I will dream of you.”
T-minus 00:00:49
He heard the humming before he saw the monitor.
“Ah – here it is!”
The Didact reached out and grabbed the T-shaped device, and held it gingerly before clamping down on hesitation. He felt Bornstellar attempt to seize control of his body, trying to smash the Index as it neared its slot. He pushed the Manipular back and held him at bay without much trouble. His mind had thousands of years of knowledge and wisdom to Bornstellar’s half a century of existence.
He slid it in.
Immediately the Halo began to hum.
“Main weapon is priming!” The monitor said gleefully.
T-minus 00:00:11
Despite everything, Didact felt sorry for his bastard child. Mendicant Bias was everything he imagined it would be and more. Yet the Master Builder allowed it to be warped, his son as well as my own, by the machinations of the Timeless One, allowed him to be lost to Forerunner eyes for 43 years, accompanied by the deadliest weapon ever devised by his makers and accompanied by a being who’s people were revered to the point where there had been debate on making a religious caste.
It was painful to think on how everything that had happened, that was happening, could have been avoided had Bias not betrayed his makers.
Even now, as the Halo Array built up the necessary energy to propagate the superluminal pulse, Bias was relentless in attacking Offensive Bias’s fleets. He could catch snippets of the battle; hear brief screams and howls of Flood and Forerunner clashing in combat armor and starships. 032 was focusing on the auxiliaries, the ships manned entirely by Forerunners – was his hate for his makers so great that he would sacrifice the bulk of his fleet just to kill his makers?
Offensive Bias said yes.
Didact was inclined to agree.
A blue beam shot out from below, streaking skywards.
He gazed at the azure beam.
“I feel no peril.”
T-minus 00:00:05
He had time. He could stop this.
<Enter reversion sequence to deactivate>
No one had to die.
He could save his people.
He could save the Ecumene.
<Enter reversion sequence to deactivate>
He could kill his wife.
He closed his eyes.
He…
He gave up.
“No pain. No remorse. Is that normal?”
00:00:00
fire: -00-00-00-00-0001-
Reversion Sequence… {negative}
Array Authorized…_ {Activate}
Rings online…_ {Activate}
<Fire>
00:00:07
The Halo Array had done it job.
Every installation was being reset to its original programming.
Every sentient being was gone.
Every Forerunner was dead.
Every Flood host was dead.
The Precursor was dead.
The Librarian was dead.
Chakas and Riser were dead.
But he lived.
Where was he?
00:00:21
The stars were different.
All communication attempts failed.
The data confirmed it.
He wasn’t home.
He was elsewhere.
Another Universe.
But where?