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Evanangel by Jinkaiden-XI
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Evanangel (part 01)
Date: 5 October 2003, 12:12 AM
Prologue
It is the year of our people, AD 2589. For fifteen years, humanity has been enslaved. Children are left hungry and homeless. Tens of thousands are murdered monthly, part of some Covenant idea of a holocaust.
When the revolution began in 2575, the Covenant had occupied all of Europe and most of Asia. The Americas had remained untouched. But for the most part, nobody was safe. And now people are forced to watch their loved ones be sacrificed, only to join them once the gunfire ceased and the fires settled down, having burned away their victims. But the revolution lives on. Large groups of rebel fighters, alongside what remains of the great armies, marched out of hiding and faced their opponent. They would have done good to stay where they were. If the Occupation didn't find them, their warheads would.
And so rages the revolution. The human population has dropped almost sixty million in number since the Covenant arrived in their mighty warships, all grouped in their vast armada.
But perhaps there is something out there. Something, someone, who can save all humanity and restore the Earth to its former glory.
_________________________________________
Hidden Eve
A round of gunfire. A fiery burst of light against the black skies. A shower of sparks, another soul lost. A child screams in terror, but nobody hears her. She is alone, kept away in the Hidden Eve.
The Hidden Eve is the last remaining operational structure in Angel Mesa. The once grand city, forever mighty of golden skyscrapers, now lies in ruin. The survivors of the continuous assaults sleep together in the shelter, hoping it will end soon and then they can leave to find any others that may be left. So far, they have found not one soul alive.
For now, they can only hope for a savior to drive away the seeping menace.
_________________________________________
Evanangel
In the heavens above drifts a graceful vessel among the stars. Before her lies the enslaved planet Earth, and the night is illuminated with the bright bursts of explosions. But still she hangs there, floating like a cloud in the tranquility of the night.
She is the warship Evanangel, a vessel of unknown origins. Nobody has ever known where she comes from or to whom she belongs, but she is a mystery indeed.
For those who believe in Evanangel, to say the savior of our universe is a warship is not fitting. One would simply laugh at this statement and dismiss it. But they are right. Evanangel is not simply a grand vessel, one that appears in awkward moments and delivers her message and is gone. To be more accurate, nobody is sure what Evanangel truly is. Some say it is a concept, others a state of mind. Some believe that the word represents an army of sorts, a force of unstoppable proportions.
But only time will tell. It will require patience and understanding before humanity can accept Evanangel for what it really is.
_________________________________________
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune system
Within a temple at the base of Mount Perihelion, a loyal servant of the High Priest approaches the God's Throne. He kneels, his robes draped over his shoulders and caressing the smooth marble floors.
"Your Grace, we have received word that the planet of the Spartan has been occupied by the Covenant armada."
A tired voice responds, "Truly? Then the Third Prophecy was correct. The Spartan faces dark times."
The servant raises his head to face his King. "But, Your Grace, the Spartan has yet to return to the planet. Surely he does not know of the situation."
The High Priest props his head up against his hand. With the other, he drums his fingers on the armrest of the throne. He sighs, then answers, "The Spartan shall be notified immediately. I cannot let him drift amongst the ignorant any longer."
"Yes, Your Grace. It is understood."
_________________________________________
Sol System
"You know, Cortana, I thought you had launched us into an Earth-return trajectory. What happened?"
Cortana snaps back, "It was not my navigational failure, Chief. I don't recall you doing much to assist me during the launch phases."
John, legendary Spartan project, leans back in his seat. For the past few years, he has spent much of his time aboard his fighter in a cryogenic hibernation. He no longer worries of the Covenant, the Flood, or Halo for that matter.
John sighs noisily. "Cortana, I'm so bored. Can't you do anything to get us out of this ship for a while?"
"I'm working on it, Chief. I'd say we only have enough fuel to reach Phaethon if we start now. The fuel cells are going to take quite a beating, though."
John is eager to get onto solid ground again. He replies, "Make it so, Cortana. Phaethon it is."
_________________________________________
Hidden Eve
The child cries harder. "Mother, where are you?"
Nobody steps forward. Nobody claims the girl; no one holds her close.
Above the rumbling Hidden Eve, resistance fighters push forward in a rage against the invading Covenant Occupation. The two forces collide directly above the shelter, striking terror in the hearts of the remaining population of Angel Mesa.
The resistance fighters quickly use up their ammunition. Having their guns and cannons useless, they all reach to their sides and unsheathe ornate blades. They are not like that of the Covenant energy swords, but simply long blades forged of strong metals and irons. They cry out, their voices shatter the dark air. The stars mix with the flames in a fiery and vibrant reflection that is given off the swords.
In a moment they charge, having their weapons in hand and hungry for the taste and smell of blood. With a series of sickening sounds, the resistance meets the Occupation and their blades pierce the enemy through. The Covenant soldiers react immediately, raising their plasma weapons and savagely countering their assault. Plasma grenades exchange airborne glances with fragmentation grenades as they rocket towards the opposition. And so they brutally fight, living creature against living creature, with nothing on their mind but victory.
_________________________________________
Sol System, trajectory bound for Phaethon
John the Spartan rests peacefully while Cortana manages the Long Sword. She too is peacefully tranquil, not uttering a word since she and John last exchanged thoughts. John wearily closes his eyes, hoping for a little sleep for the time being.
He is about to doze off when a ringing sound pounds his mind. Cortana switches the sound off, and then scans the communication link.
"Chief," Cortana calls, "we're receiving a communication signal. I'm intercepting now."
John sits upright in his seat, so to look presentable for his unwanted guest. "Very well. Activate the communication panel."
Almost instantly, a hologram screen flickers on before John's eyes. It shows a blurry image of a servant, perhaps even a knight, standing tall and mighty. He seems to gaze directly into John's eyes.
"I am Commander Glyvaennan of the Perihelion Temple. Greetings, Spartan."
John is immediately alert. Not once has he been contacted by a representative of the Phaethon government or armed forces. He assumes that something highly important has come up.
"Greetings, Commander. It is an honor to finally meet you, but I must admit I am puzzled."
Commander Glyvaennan nods gently. His tone is soothing, but very powerful at the same time. "Formalities will come later. Is your AI on board at this time?"
John gets an image of Cortana, who would probably be somewhat confused herself right now.
"Yes, Commander."
Glyvaennan seems to dismiss John at once. As if to face Cortana, he calls out, "Mistress Cortana, good to see you are doing well. I assume you are questioning the details behind my intrusion."
Cortana replies hastily, "Yes, Commander. For what purpose have we been contacted?"
"I come at the order of the High Priest. I apologize for such a rushed attempt to inform you of the situation on Earth."
John leans forward. He has become greatly interested. Cortana does not respond. John glares at the screen, knowing that his eyes cannot be seen through his visor. "Elaborate, please, Commander."
"Spartan, sometime between the years of AD 2570 and 2575, a mysterious Covenant armada arrived on Earth and quickly began dominating the planet's major cities and nations. I regret to inform you that over sixty million human lives have been taken by force or by sacrifice."
John's glare vanishes. His eyes open wide in shock and terror, in disbelief and fear. He is pained by the idea that his people are dying at this very moment, and here he sits, aboard a lone fighter in the middle of nowhere.
"What is being done about it?"
Glyvaennan does his best to look at anything but John. He can feel the sorrow and anger carved into his face. Whatever he must say will hurt the Spartan terribly, and it will hurt him to be the one to say it.
"Since then and to this day, humanity has fought a brutal and seemingly endless war against the Covenant. I salute them, Spartan. Yours is truly a gallant race."
John is devastated. He, for so long, dreamt of being free to live his own life as he so desired. And now it is too late; the Covenant have stolen that dream and dashed it to the floor.
"Thank you, Commander. I have ordered a course for Phaethon to be taken immediately. Please greet me when I arrive, as I shall be there shortly."
Commander Glyvaennan nods. "Very well, Spartan, it is to be done. We shall be waiting for you in the main docking bay of the Twilight Angel Sector. The best of luck in your journey."
"Thank you, Commander."
The window vaporizes and Glyvaennan's image fades away. The cockpit becomes dark again and John simply allows it to consume him. "Cortana, make sure we get to Phaethon as soon as possible. We have no time for delay."
"Sure thing, Chief."
_________________________________________
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune System
"Your Grace, the Spartan and the Mistress Cortana have been notified. They have set a direct course to this planet."
The High Priest nods. "Good, Commander. They are to be greeted honorably. Make it so, would you?"
Glyvaennan bows slightly. He raises his head and responds quietly, "Yes, Your Grace." With a turn he strides away, heading for the main docking bays. Upon arriving, he notices a great number of attendants preparing for the Spartan's arrival. Mooring cables are readied and a docking station is cleared and made somewhat noticeable. An officer walks by, causally monitoring the progress.
"Lieutenant!"
The officer spins around and salutes Glyvaennan. His green body armor shines in the pale light. "Yes, Commander?"
Glyvaennan steps forward. "Are these preparations indeed for the Spartan?"
"Yes, Commander. Word went out a few minutes ago that we were receiving a visitor. It was among my orders to make sure these preparations were complete in due time."
Glyvaennan gazes past the Lieutenant's shoulder and watches the attendants, who continue on as if nothing had changed. Numerous armed guards step forward and onto the platform, each with a long plasma rifle leaning against one shoulder. They are dressed ornately in battle uniforms, each stiff and skin-tight over their armor.
"Very well, Lieutenant. Notify me when the Spartan arrives. It is among my own orders to escort him to the God's Throne."
The Lieutenant salutes again. "Yes, Commander." He then swivels around stiffly and shouts orders to a group of attendants who have been slacking off. The attendants burst into action in a rush of surprise.
Glyvaennan watches for another minute or so, then turns away and heads for the control center.
_________________________________________
Hidden Eve
A chorus of prayers rises from the group of survivors as they all kneel before a cross that has been set up at the front of the room. A minister preaches from the Bible, reading from the Old Testament as the women and children weep. Between sermons, several hymns are chosen and the people all hold together while they wait for it to end. And then, as the third sermon of the evening ends, a moment of silence falls among the survivors.
All at once, a banging sound interrupts the silence. The main doors, which were cleverly hidden, vibrate slightly as a fist pounds on them roughly. Gasps escape the women's mouths and the children crawl into their mother's arms in fear.
"Hey, I think I found something!"
The survivors stop cold. The words are of a different accent, something that could not have been human. It must be Covenant, which would imply that the battle at Angel Mesa has been lost.
The pounding grows louder, this time as if several fists are slamming against it. Then there is quiet. The people within the room hold their breath, hoping for the best.
A plasma shot explodes across the steel door. A small hole melts away instantly, allowing a head to peer inside. "There are humans down here!"
The head pulls back and three more blasts burn away at the door. The women and children all begin to cry, some of them screaming, for they know they cannot be saved.
The door melts away at last, and six Covenant troops storm into the room. The minister raises a rifle and fires once, taking down a single Covenant soldier. The other five gun him down, which terrifies the children and makes them scream harder and much louder. The women clutch their sons and daughters closely as they back up against a wall.
One of the soldiers shouts, "There is a large group of humans down here. They appear to be unarmed. What shall we do with them?"
A voice from the doorway calls back as it attracts the attention of other soldiers. "A human is a human, weapon or no weapon. Kill them all. Spare nobody."
The women cry out in terror and fear, as tears stream down their faces. The five Covenant troops fire on five people, who are all killed instantly. The others leap from the floor and run for the second doorway, but they too meet a gruesome fate. They collapse to the floor in a heap as four more plasma rounds explode through the air.
The remainder of them leap from the floor and bolt for the entrance. They make it halfway up to the doorway before another group of Covenant soldiers bars their path. Within the next second, the ground is covered in lifeless, innocent women and children. Outside, fires rage over the ruins and the pale moonlight casts a cool glow on everything.
_________________________________________
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune System
As if to no delay, the tiny Long Sword fighter pulls up alongside the massive Phaethon satellite Somnus. The satellite is actually a major defense station, while also serving as a multiple purpose facility. It is from here that the eastern hemisphere of the planet is carefully monitored, and the third of eight moons can be seen at all times from the large bay windows that form many of the grayish-white walls.
As the fighter closes in on the satellite, two massive, hidden doors begin to pull apart from one another. They revealed a vast docking bay filled with large vessels and small ships. A great deal of commotion can be seen even at this distance, as if the crew was ready all along.
The Long Sword slowly drifts into one of the several hundred docking stations, and a crew dashes up to the ship and connects numerous mooring cables to the designated locks. Eight armed guards approach the fighter and stand at attention while Commander Glyvaennan waits for the loading ramp to slam down onto the thick steel platform.
At last the ramp touches down and a billowing cloud of steam and air formed by the pressure pours out and caresses the floor, sweeping past Glyvaennan's feet. John the Spartan steps out and onto the ramp, fully clad in his battle armor. His golden visor shimmers in the light.
"Greetings, Spartan. Glad to see you once more."
John nods as he cautiously heads down to the platform. His attention seems to be more focused on his surroundings than it does his reason for being here. "Thank you, Commander."
Glyvaennan quickly goes on, "The High Priest is awaiting your arrival. Shall I escort you to the God's Throne?"
John peers out at the distant planet Phaethon. "I thought the God's Throne was on Mount Perihelion."
Glyvaennan smiles. He gestures towards the door and indicates for the guards to follow. "You will see."
Evanangel (Part Two)
Date: 16 October 2003, 12:40 AM
The continuing drama of Evanangel...
"Sir, we've received a communication signal. We were informed that the Hidden Eve has fallen. Angel Mesa is lost." The Captain grips the armrest of his chair with increasing strength. Spread out before him is the eternal enigma that is the universe. He ponders through this window as if he has known this place for a long time.
"Thank you," he responds. For a moment he considers returning to Earth. However, he comes to his senses and realizes the uselessness of the idea. "Can we increase vector speed anytime soon?"
The operator is silent. After the silence spreads across the room she answers, "Perhaps. However, I would not recommend it, Captain. I cannot confirm how much the vessel can take."
The Captain drums his fingers on the armrest of the seat. With his other hand he props his head up on the other armrest.
"Captain?" the operator calls.
The Captain sighs. He has lost his immediate will to push harder and further than the ship was designed to handle. Defeated, he slumps in his chair and answers, "Maintain current speed."
"Yes, sir."
"Let me know if we come across the Spartan. I have a few words I'd like to share with him."
The secondary thrusters power down. The vessel glides smoothly past numerous red planets. As it passes through one of the planet's orbits, the vibrant light of its sun casts a brilliant glow on the ship. The word 'Evanangel' can be seen on the side, just before it passes into the shadow of a moon.
Phaethon Defense Satellite Somnus
Aboard the massive defense station Somnus, one of several satellites in Phaethon's orbit, John the Spartan strides down one of the hundreds of thousands of corridors. Before him walks Commander Glyvaennan, a representative in the Phaethon armed government.
At last they approach a door among several hundred. Perhaps even thousands. On the door is inscribed, T.N.04 - Travel the distance, do not fear the mountains on the horizon - T.N.04 door inscription.
John studies the words. He seems confused by their meaning. Commander Glyvaennan notices his expression and says, "We believe that inspiration is best before a journey."
Although without words, John agrees. He has always considered preparation to be the very best. Now he wonders about his beliefs, now that he has been confronted with a new perspective.
Without further delay, Glyvaennan enters a code into a small hologram keypad that has flashed on near the door. The numbers, or letters, are in a strange language and John is completely thrown off by their design. Many are a deep orange in color, while others are blue and gold. From here he can see that they constantly change their appearance, seeming to alternate positions.
"You must be quick to decipher this code, Spartan. The symbols are always changing, and in order to keep up you must understand their meaning," Glyvaennan speaks to the befuddled John.
The door hisses open, revealing a long, narrow chamber identical to human lifeboats. Sixteen seats, all horizontal, line the walls. At the opposite end is a control panel, which appears dormant.
Glyvaennan enters the chamber. "Come, Spartan."
John cautiously enters the chamber. Behind him the door slams shut and locks. A series of lights flicker on overhead, reflecting off his visor. An intercom system comes on, and a soothing voice pours into the chamber.
"Welcome aboard, Commander."
Glyvaennan responds cheerfully, "Thank you, Mylira. I have the Spartan with me, please make the launch phases quick."
"Yes, Commander."
John is busying himself trying to climb into one of the many horizontal seats of the chamber. He turns, with one leg placed into the chair, and calls over to Glyvaennan. "Commander, would you mind explaining how I should go about this?"
Glyvaennan chuckles. "Be patient, Spartan. You'll find out soon enough."
And indeed he does. Almost instantly, something changes and John's legs slowly lift from the floor. Glyvaennan also begins to float above the control panel. "Commander...?"
"I assume you have experienced zero gravity before."
Not to be taken for a fool, John answers confidently, "Of course. I was just surprised by the sudden change."
Glyvaennan faces John. With a questioning tone he asks, "Surprised?"
"They usually tell us when they're going to shift over," John explains sheepishly.
Glyvaennan nods and returns his focus on the control panel. The sound of a mechanical shift can be heard from somewhere outside the cramped chamber, and the whole room rocks gently. Through the front window, the very edge of Phaethon and three of its moons can be seen. Beyond that is the everlasting beauty of endless stars.
All at once, the room begins to tilt forward, as if slipping away from the satellite. The moons and stars rise above the chamber and Phaethon takes full control of the window. The intercom activates again, and the voice identified as Mylira returns. "Commander, we're initiating the final launch phases. I'm going to need the target coordinates."
"Mylira, set target for Mount Perihelion. The Spartan is a guest of the High Priest."
Mylira is silent for a moment, and Glyvaennan waits for her return. After a few seconds, the launch pod jolts to a stop. Phaeton consumes the entire window. "Commander, the coordinates have been set. Good luck on your journey."
"Thank you, Mylira."
John, now lying sideways against the wall and held to the seat, waits impatiently for the launch. Glyvaennan takes his seat and activates the pod's thrusters. John whispers, "You ready for this, Cortana?"
"Absolutely," Cortana replies with a defiant tone. A mere second passes and then John is forced into his seat. The pod breaks free of Somnus and rockets violently towards Phaethon. John says to himself as the cockpit heats up, "I wish I was."
Evanangel
Aboard the mysterious warship Evanangel, the vessel's crew debates their next move.
"I cannot determine which side to fight on, Jydlin," the Captain mutters in an annoyed tone. "The humans are defending their lives and the Covenant have their religious beliefs. Tell me; which side is pure?"
The one called Jydlin ponders this. In a matter of purity, both sides can be considered equally true in their execution. In a matter of determination, which side can be considered destined to claim victory?
Perhaps this is where Evanangel comes in to the picture. The true power of Evanangel is what can change the balance between humanity and Covenant ideals. But the question is, what side will Evanangel control?
"I refuse to allow this to drag on," the Captain says loudly. "We must make this happen. At this rate, both races will totally destroy each other."
Jydlin interjects, "You don't consider the events on Earth to be a sign?"
"I feel that those incidents are irrelevant to the outcome of this conflict," the Captain replies. "In the end, I believe that both sides will perish. I can and will not allow that to happen."
"And you desire to choose the side of true purity and honest determination."
"Yes."
"Then I must leave that choice to you. I'm afraid I cannot determine the better decision."
Evanangel drifts peacefully among the stars. The peeking sun illuminates the vessel for a split second, and in a flash the ship is gone.
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune System
With a series of metallic sounds, the pod identified as T.N.04 screams out of reentry and approaches Mount Perihelion. Upon nearing the ground, the vehicle roars to a halt. Several vertical thrusters are exposed from the underside and all at once the burst into life. A ring of dust billows from the ground as the pod gently approaches the dense forest below.
Beyond the pod is Mount Perihelion, whose peak is hidden among the clouds that shelter the heavens above. A single ray of sunlight filters through and casts its warmth on the vehicle. The mountain fades into shadow.
John exits the pod stiffly. He is slightly dazed from the violent ride to the planet and must stand in order to regain his balance.
Glyvaennan follows him out of the pod. John, having been able to see clearly once more, gazes out into the distance, where the mysterious mountain of Perihelion reaches for the eternal heavens above. Without facing him, John asks Glyvaennan, "Commander, how is it you manage to reach a grace such as that?"
Glyvaennan removes a key from around his thin neck. It is a translucent key from the years of the Ancient times, one that is forged of rare materials. It bears a golden orange color, a color that grows more vibrant in the sunlight.
Upon catching the sun's direct rays, the key begins to shimmer magnificently. Pure light has been created.
A stone column rises from the soil. Halfway up the column is a keyhole, one that matches the crafting of the key itself. With the sound of a click, Glyvaennan inserts the key into the column and twists it once. Accordingly, The trees that bar the path to the mountain begin the shift. "Blessed is the land of purity."
All at once, the leaves that cover the ground in brilliant color vanish. Beneath them lies a stone path that weaves in and out of the trees. The trees themselves withdraw their roots from the disturbed soil and retreat into the forest. The sun peers round the mountain and the path is illuminated softly.
John is fascinated by the sight. He turns to Glyvaennan, who is focused on the walkway that has been formed before them. He removes the key and returns it to its place around his neck. "Shall we continue, Spartan?"
John is speechless for another minute or so, as he takes in the wonder. He places a boot on the path, then the other. With confidence he faces the mountain and nods, "Yes, Commander. Continue we shall."
Planet Earth
What remains of this planet is not important at this point. What matters is what will remain when the end comes. For the inhabitants of the planet, this may never come. Their desired savior has yet to arrive. How long will they wait?
The Covenant have abandoned this land. They will march in their columns and they will fight in their own name, but what is this land to them? This rounded rock is filth to their hands, and stained as they be with blood, nothing can cleanse them of this wretched soil.
A preacher of the Elder Gospel caresses the burning ruins of the once mighty cities. His hand is wrapped in sacred beads, and no mortal flame can burn them. He clasps a handful of dirt into his palm and overturns his hand so to allow it to pour through his bony fingers.
In his other hand he carries a loose copper pot. Through the cracks in the aging metal erupts a white smoke. The preacher kneels and removes the beads from his hand slowly and with great care. When in a straight line the beads measure up to two feet in length. Gently he lowers them onto the soil and forms a crude ring out of them. In the center he places a wooden cross. Then he lifts the copper pot and places it nearby to allow the smoke of the holy flame to rise beside the sign of the cross.
He stands and performs the sign of the cross. Then, gazing down upon the markings he has made, he chants:
Behold thy grace,
Where art thou, sire?
Will I lay me?
Will I stay me?
Bless this land with fire.
The preacher watches the smoke rise from the copper pot for a few moments, then turns and walks away. As the night darkens he can be seen walking through the endless abyss of flame.
Evanangel
The starship Evanangel breaks out of its trajectory and returns to a stable speed.
"Captain," calls Jydlin, "we have returned to the orbit of planet Phaethon. I can see no hostiles, sir."
The Captain nods. Again he drums his fingers on the armrest of his chair. "Phaethon...this is where the Spartan is?"
"Yes, Captain. The Spartan is with the one called Glyvaennan down on Mount Perihelion. What shall we do about it?"
The Captain ponders his choices carefully. After a minute of silence, he speaks, "The Phaethon armed government has chosen to side with the humans in this stage of the conflict. Can this be considered a problem?"
"I can't be sure on that, sir. Whether or not the armed forces of Phaethon choose to fight alongside the humans is irrelevant to me."
"And why is that?"
Jydlin turns to gaze out the main bay window. To this he replies, "We don't take sides, sir. If we are going to indeed alter the course of this conflict, then I suggest we do it intelligently."
The Captain studied Jydlin's face. Jydlin stared right back, directly into the Captain's eyes. "Then what, Jydlin, do you propose we do?"
"I cannot make that decision."
"It will most likely work out like this: Both sides will fight relentlessly until the other falls. I believe that both sides will lose in the end, if the war is to continue the way it has."
Jydlin continues to watch the little movement outside the ship. As they wait in silence, the satellite Somnus comes into range. The planet's sun shines onto its metal sides as it drifts peacefully around the edge of the planet. "Can it be decided in a matter of certainty or purity?"
"I suppose. It can work that way, if the purest side triumphs."
Jydlin nods. He folds his hands in front of his chest and mutters loudly enough for only the Captain to hear, "Do you consider religious beliefs to be purest?"
The Captain responds immediately but not on the same tone. "That depends. If it involves a revelation then I have no objection with it. If it involves the destruction of an innocent race, then I may raise my hand and make a comment."
Jydlin smiles. "We're all equal here."
"Then let's start acting like it."
Jydlin nods with the same grin on his face. "Do you think the humans are getting in over their heads?"
"In a way. They're making offensive moves that they can't handle, and they know they can't."
Jydlin rises from his seat. Turning to the pilots, he said, "Be ready to enter vector 180." The pilots nodded and entered the coordinates. Jydlin turned to the Captain and studied his expression for a moment. The Captain stared at Jydlin, unsure. "We'll give them a wake up call. Then we'll see what they do."
The Captain agreed, and approached his control panel. With his right hand he graced the control panel carefully. "It is done."
Outside Evanangel, the defense satellite Somnus swings gently around the brighter side of the planet Phaethon. Inside the satellite, the lead operator, Mylira, studies the hologram panel before her. A small object, seemingly foreign, hangs motionless five kilometers away. Before she can speak, a bright light pours into the room.
The mysterious warship Evanangel glows with an intense light. In that second, the vessel fires as one continuous weapon. Inside the ship, the Captain mutters to himself, "My message to the Spartan."
The beam of energy blasts through the hull of Somnus cleanly. Clouds of debris break away from the satellite as the weapon burns through the steel structure. The beam fades away and the sound dies with the light. For a moment, Somnus hangs still, shocked and thunderstruck. Almost immediately, a brilliant mixture of orange and yellow engulfs the satellite completely as Somnus violently implodes. Evanangel is nowhere to be seen.
My message to the Spartan...
Evanangel (Part Three)
Date: 23 October 2003, 12:33 AM
The continuing drama of Evanangel...
In a single passage, the recent events recorded in history can be described as simply as follows: The message for the Spartan, beware of Evanangel. Will it help you? Will it end you? Question as you might.
Now that Somnus has been destroyed, we return to the state of John the Spartan, who has witnessed the satellite's destruction from the solid ground of Phaethon. He gazes upward at the skies, in hopes of absolution.
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune system
As John traverses the stone path so cleverly hidden by the touch if nature, he randomly feels a strange urge to return his sight to the heavens above. In an instant he feels unsafe.
A light, one identical to those seen by shooting stars, screams silently across the sky and passes on over the horizon. At the same moment, what appears to be a star vanishes in a small flicker of light. A split second passes, and a magnificent burst of light appears and disappears. John can almost feel the passing of Somnus' crew.
Glyvaennan senses something amiss as well. "Mylira," he stutters. Within his own thoughts he prays for the others as well.
John turns to him. In a gentle tone he questions, "You can feel them?"
Glyvaennan drops to his knees. Silently he answers, "It is among our connections between us. I can feel only the ones closest to me, but when I do, it is like a strong pulsing inside your heart, as if you've known something all along. And when they perish..."
Glyvaennan stops there, and John thanks him without words or expressions. "It weakens me."
John cannot last any longer. He ponders what to do; how to go about this new situation. He sees the way Glyvaennan is destroyed by the door that has just been opened. The door they were to pass through has closed, and now one of undesired choice has opened in its place. A light of darkness greets them on the other side. And suddenly it strikes him: he must press on now, and he must continue to try and save the innocent and punish the guilty.
He peers down on Glyvaennan, the commander he once assumed was unbreakable. But in this new time of reality, John sees the side of the strong that keeps them from what they do not want to be. It is what keeps them who they are. "Come, Commander. Let us journey onward and put our troubles behind us. They can still be saved."
Planet Earth
Assuming that the revolution sees no rest, a battle being fought endlessly in another place is more than possible. It is inevitable. And on this day there are no more cannons or guns, bombs or vehicles. It is living warrior against living warrior on this day, and the peaceful plains of this valley are to be no more.
In the hands of the humans are ornate swords, identical to the ones that now lie among the lifeless at Angel Mesa. Carved into their metal blades are inscriptions of guidance and of inspiration. God has such liberty to the hands of man.
In the claws of the Covenant are the infamous energy blades, these forged of the power of plasma. Some of the lower class soldiers carry katanas and spears, while still some sport normal, steel formed swords. The two forces stand opposite each other on twin hills that rise within the grassy mountain valley. A strong wind picks up as a storm rolls in.
And, without warning, the Covenant main battle force charges the human lines. The human forces stand their ground. Following the center column, the two side columns burst into the battle. Wielding their energy blades and katanas, they combine with the main force and become a regiment of unstoppable proportions.
Despite this new obstacle, the human lines remain still. As the Covenant soldiers flow down the base of the hill and into the valley, a human commander raises his sword into the air and shouts an order. All at once, the humans raise their blades as well and brace themselves for the charge. They understand how it will be. This battle will result in one of the bloodiest, most savage events in human history. Neither side is clad in any special armor nor do they carry shields of any kind. The side which offers the higher price shall be triumphant.
The final second passes. The Covenant battle force collides with that of the humans and they begin a savagery like none before.
Evanangel
With what pride does this crew seek the death and destruction of innocent bystanders? How does a creature manage to murder thousands, so to give just one a message?
With Somnus destroyed and its crew slain, the vessel's captain begins to wonder if this has truly done what it was intended. The one known as Jydlin has thought of his actions as victorious and just, but this does not strike the Captain as pure.
With a defense satellite obliterated by a foreign power for no true reason, he fears that the people of Phaethon will arise and become involved in the conflict. Perhaps this sudden attempt to end a war has simply given birth to an even stronger one. Jydlin does not see clearly, as he should. Instead of seeing what he may be unintentionally creating, he sees what is in fact meant to be.
Likewise, in the case of Somnus, Jydlin saw what he wanted to be done, not what was destined to be done.
In a meditated connection, Jydlin intercepts these thoughts. "Why do you question what I have done?" he asks.
"I fear we have created a bigger problem in believing we were eliminating a smaller one. I should have realized that sooner."
Jydlin sighs. "I never saw this in you, Captain. What makes you ponder such things?"
"The fact that it is the truth," the Captain responds in an irritated tone. "The Spartan is not subdued and the revolution rages as we speak. I should never have been so foolish as to allow this to happen."
"You worry too much. The Spartan has not had time to consider his options and the people of the planet Earth have not been told of these events."
"I believe that the Spartan has already considered his choices and has already made a decision. As far as I'm concerned, he's about to become a danger to us," the Captain answers.
To this Jydlin makes no reply.
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune system
After a seemingly endless journey, John places a foot on the first of a hundred steps that will take him to the Perihelion Temple. Glyvaennan, unwilling to stop for fear that he will sense the emptiness in his heart, begins the ascent to the temple without resting. John, amazed by his determination, gathers his strength and follows him.
Glyvaennan, who at first was unwilling to speak, nods to John. "I fear now that we face a new threat because of your presence here," he says softly. "But I will not stand down. You won't either, will you?"
A fierce look of confidence overcame John. He speaks as he watches the skies, "As long as my people suffer, I will never stand down. I will fight until the day I die if necessary." John suddenly realizes that he was speaking the truth at this point.
"Then let us fight alongside one another. I am certain we can overcome any troubles we may have if we fight as one."
"Truly," John interjects. "Yes, it shall be most wise to do so."
It was agreed. Upon reaching the God's Throne, Commander Glyvaennan and the Spartan would unite their forces as one and become the savior the humans desired so heavily.
Planet Earth
With a clash of steel and plasma, humanity collides with Covenant on the stormy plains of a hidden valley. Hundreds are slain in the first minute, and the numbers only increase from this point. A human sword pierces through the Covenant with ease. The same is for that of the plasma blades and katanas, and before long the battlefield, a once peaceful plain, is a bloody valley of chaos.
The battle rages for a matter of minutes, and soon the clouds roll in and bear down upon the land their payload. The rain pours down on the soldiers, each clad in a shimmering armor. Lightning reflects off the metal blades and thunder cackles everlastingly. And so they fight, slashing at one another as though tomorrow was never to come.
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune system
Before the God's Throne kneels the Spartan and the Commander Glyvaennan. The High Priest graces the Throne with a mighty touch of its armrests. "Spartan, I give you my deepest sympathies, as I have heard of your situation on Earth."
"Thank you, Your Grace, but I have not come for sympathy. I am confident that mankind will stand boldly against those of whom we despise," John replies respectfully.
"A soldier of many honors, and he speaks by the word of truth," The High Priest responds almost cheerfully. "And what can I do for such an honorable mention?"
"If you would, Your Grace, I would like to request an immediate bearing of arms against the Covenant."
The High Priest booms in response, "Ah, and so he reveals what he desires. For some time I have known what you seek, Spartan, and now I shall do my part as to fulfill it."
The High Priest turns to a servant and orders, "Have our finest warships ready for action as soon as possible. Have the captains set direct course for planet Earth."
The servant obediently nods and hurries away. "Please," The High Priest nods to John and Glyvaennan, "escort these two to the great bays." The servant agrees and leads John and the Commander down a long, seemingly endless hallway lined with marble columns and arched ceilings. Every twenty feet or so is an elegant chandelier.
But John is blind when it comes to beauty; he sees only the simplest of things: the problem, the choices, and the solution.
Evanangel
I was right.
So it seems, yes.
What are we to do now? We've created an entirely new flame of war.
We can only do one thing. The one called Jydlin must be eliminated, and we must stop this from growing into something more.
Into something more? What more can it become?
The end of our and their existence, for starters. Something must be done to end this now.
It all starts with Jydlin.
A uniformed officer strides down the narrow corridor and approaches a single door of several. With three heavy knocks on the metal hatch, a figure opens it and exchanges glances with the officer.
The officer is the first to speak. "Are you the one called Jydlin?"
The figure appears confused. For what reason is this happening? "Yes."
"It has been determined that you are a danger to the crew of this vessel and every living creature on Earth and of Phaethon. You have been found guilty of the destruction of the Phaethon defense satellite Somnus, of which seven thousand nine hundred and twenty-one souls were lost."
Jydlin's eyes open wide. He tries to back away and slam the door shut, but in a flash of brilliant, shining metal, the officer unsheathes his sword and with a sickening thud Jydlin's head strikes the floor. "Your sentence has been served."
"Sir, we have received word from the barracks that the one called Jydlin has been executed by an official of this vessel."
The Captain grimaces. I have come to know you, Jydlin, even as you were but a child. And as I have done, your death was under me. "Very well."
"Based on the Council's judgment, the anomaly's termination is a signal to proceed as planned. Shall we set course for Earth?"
The Captain nods simply. "We are to intercept the Phaethon warships at that location. Make it so."
Planet Earth
It is at this point that the battle has ended and all lives are lost. Countless bodies are scattered to rest among the wild flowers and grasses. From their flesh protrude the blades of the enemy, which have been handed to the victim as a final farewell.
One soldier, this one human, rises from the grisly scene and manages to stand. He reaches for something in his abdomen and removes it. The hidden item was a dagger, eleven inches long, stained with his blood. He drops the blade and clutches the wound tightly. His clothes are torn and shredded and his armor lies in shambles on his shoulders and chest. Cuts mark his face and arms. He knows he is not going to last through the hour, perhaps not even the next few minutes. Each step is agonizingly painful and he stumbles with every movement. In his breast pocket is a picture, and he removes it with the last of his strength. On the ripped piece of paper is a picture of his loving wife and young child, each of whom are likely to be sitting at home right now, fearing for his safety as well as their own.
He squeezes the photo one last time, and falls to his knees and collapses in a heap to the ground. The picture flutters away, carrying a trace of blood and a memory.
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