"Well, well, look who it is. Supreme Fleet Commander Xytan 'Jar Wattinree. What brings you back? Weren't you pursuing those scattered human raider fleets along the frontier?"
"You could have at least sent word. We might have prepared a grand victory celebration for you."
The words carried honorifics, yet the Jiralhanae who spoke them could not suppress his booming laughter. Standing over three meters tall, he looked down at Xytan 'Jar Wattinree without concealing his mockery. "Or perhaps you've come back to beg the Prophets for reinforcements?"
Even among Astartes warriors, this Jiralhanae would have been considered massive. His gray-blue skin was covered in thick frost-white fur, and his muscles bulged like carved marble.
Behind him, a squad of gold-bronze armored Jiralhanae High Chieftain guards wearing ornate V-shaped spiked headdresses burst into derisive laughter.
At this, Xytan 'Jar Wattinree withdrew his disdainful gaze. His four mandibles twitched as though speaking to a Jiralhanae itself sullied him. "Tartarus..."
This pale-furred Jiralhanae was none other than the current military leader of the Covenant's Jiralhanae, elevated by the Prophet of Mercy to the position of Fleet Commander—High Chieftain Tartarus.
Among the notoriously violent and impulsive Jiralhanae, Tartarus was a rare specimen capable of thought and self-control.
"Do you know something?" Xytan 'Jar Wattinree cast a glance at the chieftain guards behind him. "In my eyes, your provocation is no different from a dog's barking."
"Given a scrap of authority and already you come trotting over, bone in mouth, wagging your tail for approval? If you have that much time, perhaps you should try cultivating whatever pitiful shred of honor your Jiralhanae still possess."
As he spoke, Xytan 'Jar Wattinree stepped aside, clearing the path. "After you, pathetic chieftain. Judging by your expression, are you on your way to lick the boots of those sanctimonious San'Shyuum?"
"You!" The contempt in Xytan 'Jar Wattinree's tone instantly ignited fury among the chieftain guards. Some stepped forward in rage, ready to strike.
"Roar!" Tartarus barked, halting his subordinates before they acted rashly.
Taking a deep breath, and seeing the arrogant expression on Xytan 'Jar Wattinree's face, even Tartarus nearly lost control. In the end, however, he restrained his anger. "Sangheili. Put away that damned, nauseating arrogance of yours."
"The Great Journey has already begun. We Jiralhanae are now the Prophets' personal guard! You merely seized the advantage first. Who laughs last remains to be seen!"
"Oh? Is that so?"
Seemingly indifferent to Tartarus' provocation, Xytan 'Jar Wattinree stepped past him as usual, his deep voice carrying behind him. "And how do you know the Great Journey even needs to continue?"
"Xytan 'Jar Wattinree! Do you realize what you're saying?! That is heresy—"
"Do it!"
Zzzzt!
Splurt!
Seeing the Sangheili raise their plasma pistols and twin energy swords without hesitation—cold and swift—Tartarus felt a chilling premonition.
This had been planned all along.
No wonder the Covenant's frontier Supreme Fleet Commander would return to High Charity without a whisper of warning. It was a coup!
Realizing that Prophet of Truth and Prophet of Regret had already departed with their fleets, leaving High Charity's defenses greatly weakened, and seeing Xytan 'Jar Wattinree returning from the High Council chamber, Tartarus' heart sank instantly.
"You!"
As the guard who had rushed forward to shield him collapsed, and a dark figure stepped from the shadows—
"Human?!"
There was no time for shock. Raising his gravity hammer with one hand, Tartarus swung it fiercely toward Xytan 'Jar Wattinree, roaring, "Don't get bogged down! Contact Prophet of Mercy! Mobilize the troops!"
"No. You will not see that fraud again. Allow me to inform you, pitiful Jiralhanae—we have reached the appointed hour of the Great Journey."
Kicking aside the corpse of the guard who had taken the blow for him, Xytan 'Jar Wattinree raised his crimson twin energy swords.
"You assassinated the Prophet?! Damn you! Colluding with human heretics, Sangheili! You dare speak of honor?!"
"Heh. Remember this. Your extinction is the will of Our Goddess!"
Splurt!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
...
Drip... drip...
At the very top of High Charity's upper "mushroom cap," where the San'Shyuum Prophets resided and the Covenant High Council convened, the environment was truly exquisite.
Along the pathways, numerous alien plants cultivated for ornamental purposes flourished. There were also rare and exotic beasts, domesticated and rendered harmless.
The moment these creatures caught the scent of the group—especially Selene—they let out pitiful whimpers and shrank into corners, trembling violently, on the verge of losing control of their bowels. Yet after Selene cast them a casual glance, they curled back into themselves, not daring to make another sound.
Walking through this place felt like traversing a vast exotic garden filled with otherworldly scenery—aside from... the corpses carpeting the ground.
Across the crisscrossing roads of the "Sanctum," the traces left behind by the Imperial Assassination Unit were horrifying beyond words.
Fragments of armor and shattered weapons littered the floor. Fallen bodies had been pierced and cleaved apart by terrible forces, riddled with wounds. Their mangled flesh formed pathways resembling pools of blood.
Brutally, overwhelmingly bloody.
Yet none present were ordinary people. Who among them had not blood on their hands? Even Dr. Halsey and the technicians of the Spartan Operations division dissected alien corpses daily. They had seen far more nauseating scenes. Compared to that, this was nothing.
As for the Master Chief, the Spartan warriors, and the UNSC officers—they were long accustomed to such sights.
Halsey looked around curiously, entirely at ease. For humanity, this was the first time stepping into such a well-preserved Covenant facility—moreover, one so central to Covenant power.
Inside the Sanctum at the summit of High Charity, the dome soared high above. Arched vaults connected seamlessly, formed by four colossal petal-like defensive walls. Purple, blue, and silver dominated the color scheme, decorative light sources embedded throughout.
Walking within it, one instinctively felt solemnity. A sense of reverence arose from the depths of the heart.
It resembled a cathedral of pilgrimage.
At this moment, because High Charity was neither in high-speed cruise nor in slipspace transit, the petal-like defensive walls were not fully closed, leaving vast gaps.
Looking upward, one could gaze directly upon the clear star-filled sky.
Mural-like carvings adorned portions of the interior walls, intricate and ancient, depicting scenes of the Forerunners' so-called divine legacy.
Standing beneath the open dome, amid blood and starlight, the contrast was almost surreal.
And deeper still, beyond the sanctified architecture, awaited the true objective.
The Keyship.
Along both sides of the road, countless exquisite murals were carved into the walls. Upon them were engraved scenes from ancient San'Shyuum legends and history—along with many epic tales of the Sangheili.
As for the Unggoy, the Kig-Yar, the Yanme'e, and even the Jiralhanae, they had no place in so sacred and exalted a site. They were not worthy of leaving epics here.
After all, the Covenant had been founded jointly by only two races after their war came to an end.
From the murals, Selene could decipher the narrative.
The San'Shyuum reaching for the stars—The War of Wills, the catalyst for the Covenant's founding.
The War of Beginnings.
The Ages of Conversion—the Covenant's wars of expansion.
The Ages of Doubt—the suppression of the Unggoy Rebellion.
And most recently, the Ages of Reclamation—the Great Journey.
Clearly, the San'Shyuum glorified their own history and wore it with pride.
"The War of Wills, the War of Division... who truly saved the species? Who can say?" Selene withdrew her gaze with a soft scoff.
Judging from the countless San'Shyuum consciousnesses she had incinerated and absorbed, anyone who believed these murals at face value was a fool.
In 2200 BCE, before the Covenant's creation, when the San'Shyuum still dwelled on their homeworld, a Forerunner Keyship fell to the planet's surface. Faced with this relic, their society fractured.
A faction later known as the Reformists demanded to approach the vessel and study its technology. The majority, however, regarded it as a sacred divine artifact not to be touched or desecrated.
Thus erupted the War of Division.
Though the Reformists gained technological advantages by employing Forerunner weaponry and knowledge, the Stoics vastly outnumbered them. Even using only their own technology and arms, they maintained overwhelming superiority.
During the war, roughly a thousand Reformists stormed and seized control of the Keyship. The Stoics were furious but dared not launch a full assault upon it—for to stop the Reformists would require damaging the sacred relic itself.
In the end, the Reformists piloted the Keyship off the planet, claiming victory in the War of Wills, and left behind the Stoics' final transmission:
"Irreverence toward the gods will bring a curse."
Later, after the Covenant was founded, the Reformists realized their numbers were pitifully small. Even if they had fled, what future awaited them? In 850 BCE, they returned to their homeworld to obtain females—though in the end, their population remained limited.
According to the oral records of the San'Shyuum High Prophet at the time, in 648 BCE their homeworld was destroyed when its star collapsed.
That, of course, was the Reformists' unilateral claim. Whether it was true—who could say?
From then on, High Charity—a mobile planetoid constructed from massive sections of planetary crust and powered by the Forerunner Keyship—became the new home of the San'Shyuum.
This was the rough outline Selene pieced together after organizing the consciousness memories of Prophet of Truth and other mid- to high-ranking San'Shyuum.
If nothing else, she mentally applauded the likely long-extinct Stoics.
Prophets indeed.
Even without Selene's Empire, in the original timeline the words "Irreverence toward the gods will bring a curse" had proven chillingly accurate. After the Covenant's collapse, the San'Shyuum were not far from total extinction.
And just then—
Boom—boom—!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Beyond the light curtain, Selene could hear violent explosions and the sharp crackle of plasma fire rising from below, the frequency steadily increasing.
"Your Majesty, General Budo's vanguard slipspace forces have landed. In coordination with Supreme Fleet Commander Xytan 'Jar Wattinree, they have secured High Charity's central control chamber. The cleansing operation has begun."
A dark-clad Imperial assassin manifested once more and knelt on one knee to report.
"Mm."
Selene lifted her gaze slightly.
At the far end of her sight stood a colossal triangular vessel—like a tower piercing the heavens.
The Keyship had originally been created by the Forerunners as a biosphere preservation ark. Within it were genetic archives and life-seeding facilities. After the Halo Array activated and exterminated all life in the galaxy, the Keyship would initiate, returning the preserved samples to their respective homeworlds.
After the Covenant's founding, ignorant of its true purpose, they simply called it the Dreadnought.
Passing through layers of security gates and formally stepping inside, the interior bore the unmistakable monumental geometric style of the Forerunners, in stark contrast to the classical imagery outside.
It was an immense temple-like hall.
Within its shadows stood pillar after pillar like mirrored reflections, stretching into the distance like massive tree trunks in an orderly, widely spaced forest. Far above, the ceiling was formed of transparent crystal, through which faint points of light could be seen.
After seizing the Keyship as their means of escape, the San'Shyuum Reformists had secretly plundered resources, filling the vessel with plants, trees, seeds, and other materials from their homeworld of Janjur Qom.
Once the Keyship entered space, its lighting was adjusted for cultivation, enabling the growth of shrubs and crops that supplied herbal teas and fresh food.
The wall before Selene was largely covered in carved panels crafted from timber grown aboard the vessel.
A stone fountain murmured in the corner, carved from a fragment of rock torn from the homeworld when the Dreadnought first ascended.
The green illumination simulated the sunlight filtering through the dense forest canopy of the Janjur Qom basin.
"Gururur..."
The intrusion of outsiders immediately startled the Keyship's personnel.
Several beings resembling a fusion of fleshy masses and metal, upon sensing Selene's presence, trembled violently. Their extended tendrils quivered, and their crystalline blue elongated heads shook in fright.
"Hmm... are they Engineers?" Halsey, walking behind Selene and marveling at the Forerunners' grand creation, spoke up.
A closer look revealed their bodies encased in hardened metallic shells, while their tendrils, heads, and necks—exposed beyond the shell—were organic, emitting a faint blue luminescence.
Clearly, they were not naturally evolved lifeforms.
Reaching out to stroke one of the crystalline blue elongated heads, Selene let violet light flicker in her palm. A trace of gentle, benign Honkai energy seeped forth.
"Goo!"
Instantly, all three pairs of eyes on the elongated head widened. It rubbed its head against Selene's palm, extending its tendrils as if wishing to touch her, yet hesitating, appearing somewhat adorably awkward.
Selene could clearly feel the emotions it conveyed—joy, and a desire for more.
They were Huragok—artificial organisms created by the Forerunners using nanocellular technology, not machines but living constructs. In wartime they had served as maintenance engineers for the Halo Array. The San'Shyuum had discovered them within a Forerunner ruin.
Because the Huragok could translate and interpret Forerunner relics, within the Covenant they specialized in analyzing, replicating, and maintaining Forerunner technology.
High Charity itself had been completed with their assistance.
"You felt it, didn't you..."
Gently stroking the smooth head of the Huragok, Selene allowed a violet-crimson halo to expand beneath her feet.
An indescribable consciousness began to awaken.
At that moment, a floating light descended from above and drifted toward the Master Chief and the others behind Selene.
"Welcome, Reclaimers."