As Konrad Curze, lord of the Night Lords, departed, the oppressive presence like a primordial beast finally vanished. Halsey and the others could breathe again, the stiffness in their bodies fading as control returned to their limbs.
They could move freely now, yet even so, neither Halsey nor the Master Chief relaxed.
The terrifying giant's attitude had already made everything clear. The Empire was not the Unified Earth Government. Though Empress Selene appeared gentle, trying to push your luck before her would be sheer stupidity.
That might be true, but one still had to show the proper attitude.
When the gap in identity, status, and strength reached this extent—like an unbridgeable chasm— even battle-hardened Spartan heroes had to tread carefully and speak with deference to Selene, the seemingly delicate woman who looked as though she could barely truss a chicken.
After all, even if they did not fear death, their "mother," Dr. Halsey, was here. Their countless comrades on Reach were still alive. And judging by the situation, the Empire's advance into the Solar System was only a matter of time. There was no benefit in provoking the Empress' displeasure and inviting unnecessary calamity.
"The Covenant capital... High Charity..."
Murmuring to herself, understanding flickered across Halsey's face. She gave a wry smile.
"That makes sense. If Reach has fallen, there's no reason the Empire would leave Covenant worlds untouched."
"What do you require us to do?"
Fixing her gaze upon the Empress' face—soft yet faintly aloof—Halsey asked.
Rip—
Another iridescent black rift tore open. Selene's pupils shifted slightly as her gaze slid aside. Among those left behind from the Reach UNSC garrison, it was clear that Dr. Halsey of the Spartan Operations Division stood at the forefront.
Not fools, at least. They could see that what Selene valued were the Spartans and the technical officers of the Spartan Operations Division. The mid- and high-ranking UNSC officers stood stiffly at the back of the formation.
"Descendants of the ancient humans of Erde-Tyrene. I require you to unlock the Forerunner Keyship imprisoned within High Charity by the San'Shyuum, and obtain the coordinates of all hidden Forerunner relics throughout the galaxy."
Selene spoke calmly. Her beautiful, refined features and crimson diamond-cross pupils emitted a faint glow, revealing an inhuman, otherworldly charm.
"Erde-Tyrene? Ancient humans? Your Majesty, are you referring to us?"
Connecting to the Imperial sub-fleet stationed in the Large Magellanic Cloud, adjusting the exit coordinates, stabilizing the trans-spatial webway, Selene nodded. She herself could roam freely through Imaginary Space, but Halsey and the others were ordinary humans.
Without Selene's protection, even a slight surge of energy in Imaginary Space would shatter them into dust, leaving nothing behind.
"Erde-Tyrene is Earth. And you are the descendants of ancient humanity whose genes have degenerated."
Leaving Halsey and the Spartans behind was partly to satisfy a certain personal curiosity—but more importantly, for practical reasons.
After the collapse and extinction of Forerunner civilization, their vast number of relics across the galaxy were placed into dormancy.
They had hoped that when new humanity rose again, step by step journeying from their homeworld into the stars, they would inherit their technology and their mantle of safeguarding all life.
Among the Forerunners' highest leadership, the Librarian—the supreme leader of the Lifeworker rate—before her death, implanted mysterious genetic directives known as Geas into human DNA during indexing, allowing humans to be recognized by Forerunner systems and guides.
The Librarian: the most revered and respected member of the Lifeworkers. In Forerunner history, aside from the Librarian, only three others ever attained the supreme title of "Creator."
In simple terms—she was extraordinarily formidable, a figure of immense status within Forerunner civilization.
This laid the groundwork for humanity's eventual right to inherit Forerunner power after their technology was sealed away. It was also the reason the San'Shyuum feared and despised humanity.
Within the Covenant capital of High Charity existed something exceedingly rare and precious—even to the Forerunners themselves—a powerful artificial intelligence... or rather, a fragment of its consciousness.
By its original will, it had intended to travel to Erde-Tyrene to guide humanity's development and atone for past actions. Instead, it had accidentally fallen upon the San'Shyuum homeworld, Janjur Qom, and lapsed into silence.
Later, the San'Shyuum launched it into space. In the process, the vessel tore up a massive portion of the planet's surface—this became the foundation of High Charity.
Selene's objective was to have these humans bearing Forerunner Geas make contact with that artificial intelligence, then receive the entire Forerunner legacy intact and without loss.
Spartans were selected through strict genetic screening. They were the elite of the UNSC. If even they failed to gain recognition, there would be no point choosing others. At that stage, Selene would have no choice but to use force.
As for unforeseen resistance—Forerunner guidance systems retaliating, initiating self-destruction, or deleting their data—such outcomes were impossible to predict.
The UNSC's mid- and high-ranking officers? Merely incidental.
"Come."
With a casual wave of her hand, Selene ignored any potential objections. She seized control of them and strode toward the rift she had torn into reality.
Vrrr—!
Halsey and the others felt their vision blur. The starry sky vanished, replaced by an endless violet-red firmament.
In the distance, multicolored radiance flickered. Nebulae surged like ocean tides or towered like mountain ranges, shifting endlessly...
Nearby, distorted motes of light stretched into elongated crimson streaks before dissipating...
"Glory to the Goddess!" ×N
Most crucially, Halsey saw a large group of fully armed, fully intact Covenant Elite warriors suddenly emerge from a gateway directly ahead, saluting in unison.
"Mm." Selene gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.
With a flick of her wrist, the gateway linking to the Imperial sub-fleet in the Large Magellanic Cloud sealed itself as though alive.
"It's Elites!"
Many Spartans and UNSC officers instantly became alert.
Especially the commanders at the front of the Elite formation. They wore heavy, ornate silver, gold, and red armor, large curved commander helmets, thick angular chestplates and pauldrons adorned with decorative light sources.
Years of war had made the UNSC well aware of Covenant hierarchy. These Elites were either fleet commanders or warship commanders.
We're not being set up... are we?
The thought flashed through many minds—only to be dismissed almost immediately.
Impossible!
If the Covenant truly possessed such strength, humanity could never have endured for so many years. They would have been wiped out long ago.
"Demons!"
The Sangheili also noticed the Spartans under Selene's control. The angular yet form-fitting exoskeleton armor was far too familiar. They immediately responded in kind.
"I care not how deep your hatred runs. For now, you are allies."
"Remember this. Your enemies are only the San'Shyuum, the Jiralhanae, and the Kig-Yar."
"They shall atone for their lies and crimes through destruction."
With a languid pause in her voice, Selene spoke indifferently. She made no attempt to reconcile the hatred between the two races. She merely designated new targets for them.
Without waiting for any reply, Selene drew the returning Sangheili forward as well, deliberately arranging them side by side with the humans of the UNSC, forming two parallel ranks.
...
In silence, amid an awkward atmosphere thick with mutual hostility, Selene carried both races—stiff and uncomfortable—rapidly through what seemed like endless Imaginary Space.
They might have been awkward. Selene was not. She even split off a portion of her consciousness to watch the spectacle with interest.
At last, she broke the silence.
"Supreme Fleet Commander Xytan 'Jar Wattinree. You will exterminate all San'Shyuum and Jiralhanae, and persuade the Covenant fleet stationed at High Charity to surrender. Are you prepared?"
"Do not disappoint me. I do not wish to cause unnecessary slaughter."
Unnecessary slaughter...
Truly, given Selene's own methods, such lofty and absurd words coming from her mouth sounded almost ironic.
"As you wish, Our Goddess."
The one who responded stood taller than any other Sangheili present—nearly eleven and a half feet in height. He wore unique silver armor overlaid with golden Forerunner glyphs.
"I look forward to it."
Selene met the gaze of the highest-ranking Sangheili currently surrendered to the Empire.
The title of Supreme Fleet Commander was the Covenant's highest naval authority, commanding all Covenant fleets—the equivalent of a grand admiral.
That Xytan 'Jar Wattinree had once held this position demonstrated just how exalted his status was among the Sangheili. He had commanded the "Combined Fleet of Righteous Purpose" along the Covenant frontier.
As for why such a figure—second only to the High Prophets—had been stationed at the border, it was because his prestige had grown too great. Some even believed him superior to any Prophet.
Merit overshadowing the throne.
For that reason, the High Prophets exiled him to guard the far reaches of the Covenant's vast interstellar territory.
Yet this had conveniently benefited the Empire. After an Astartes fleet strike and the deliberate exposure of the San'Shyuum's deceptions, Xytan 'Jar Wattinree learned the truth of the "Prophet" race's lies.
Especially after being personally transferred before Selene—who was still sweeping through the Large Magellanic Cloud—he became utterly convinced that the Prophets had deceived everyone. He formally swore loyalty to Selene and, on behalf of the Sangheili, renounced his former faith.
Thanks to his cooperation and assistance, the Imperial Navy was able to perfectly seal off communications and temporarily deceive the Covenant intelligence network.
"I will not fail."
Selene nodded in satisfaction and finally shifted her attention to Halsey and the UNSC personnel.
"Before we reach High Charity, I trust you have many questions. Speak. I will answer what I know."
With a casual wave of her hand, Selene appeared surprisingly amiable.
Halsey froze briefly, then—
"Your Majesty, ancient humanity—why do you call us that? What connection do we have to them? What does genetic degeneration mean? Where exactly is High Charity? Why are the Elites here? And the Forerunners and the Keyship you mentioned—what are they...?"
Already overwhelmed by confusion, Halsey seized the opportunity. Questions burst from her like gunfire, rapid and relentless—more than a dozen in quick succession, and still increasing.
"Stop!" Selene cut in hastily.
She hated trouble. Was there not a lazier way to handle this?
Answer: yes.
"Cortana."
Before Halsey's expression—one of utter disbelief—Selene's lips curved upward.
"Your Majesty, I am here. What are your orders?"
A luminous blue holographic projection materialized before Selene. The figure bore a striking resemblance—six or seven parts out of ten—to Halsey in her youth. Slender and graceful, Cortana clasped her hands behind her back, tilting her head with playful curiosity.
"Initiate explanations for Dr. Halsey and the Master Chief."
The Authority of the Herrscher of Reason activated. Pale blue streams of data flowed around Selene, linking into the projection at Cortana's feet.
"I have granted you access to the Imperial Navy fleet database."
Selene glanced sideways at Halsey.
"An excellent concept. After detecting her framework, I accelerated completion of your work. The results appear satisfactory. Forgive the unilateral action, Doctor."
Halsey forced a faint, complicated smile.
As if I would dare object...
"Thank you."
Yet inwardly, her unease deepened. Not only could the Empress alter the laws of physical reality—she could infiltrate and control electronic networks as well...
"Doctor, hello. My name is Cortana. It's a pleasure to meet you."
With a bright smile, Cortana appeared before Halsey and the Master Chief.
"Regarding your questions, according to the data I have accessed from the Imperial Navy database..."
...
Outer Orion Arm, within a certain sector—at the apex of High Charity.
Squelch!
This was the inner sanctum where the San'Shyuum resided, near the Keyship—the sacred core of their city.
Now, its former tranquility was gone. Blood spattered across the immaculate stone floor. One pampered San'Shyuum after another lay fallen amid the shocking assault.
One of them sprawled on the ground, the ceremonial headdress marking his priestly rank hanging askew atop his head. There was no dignity left. Behind him, his luxurious robe had been torn open by a vicious blade wound, blood bubbling relentlessly from the gash.
"Damn it! Damn it! Are the guards outside deaf?! How could the Sanctum be invaded?! Why is no one reinforcing us?! Damn it..."
Struggling upright, he stretched a trembling hand toward the exit less than ten meters away—only to find it sealed by a thin veil of violet-black light.