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The Continuous Legacy by David Yurman
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Legacy Ch.1
Date: 6 January 2009, 10:33 pm
"Folks need heroes Chief; give em' hope."
Sergeant Major Avery J. Johnson, October 2552
Chapter 1: Kenya
December 25, 2552, Kenya/Africa/0130 hours Mission Clock
THE MASTER Chief jumped over the body of a Covenant Elite, the blood and ichor lapping at his titanium enforced combat boots. His assault rifle cackled several times, and six Grunts hit the ground running, their heads blown off and their guts spewed across the battlefield like dappled sunshine over the ocean. The scenery was bleak with despair, or it could just have been the tremendous amount of smoke in the air. The Master Chief looked around, seeing the scope of the battlefield from inside his triple reinforced helmet. The ground was covered in blood, the sky filled with smoke. The African plain had become a death zone, its victims either lifeless or screaming for never arriving help. The Chief had no time for helplessness however. He had an objective. The greatest imposing stature on the battlefield was a massive construct in the not so distant distance. It was shaped like an oval, with many massive pillars jutting from its circumference. The Chief will probably never know how such a large Covenant device appeared in the middle of what was once Kenya, nor did he care. All the Chief needed on his mind was his purpose in this battle, which was to blow up every dirty Covenant bastard and then shove their remains into the massive construct in which he will place a lethal bomb that will blow it from here to below hell. Well, that was what the sergeant had said.
Another Grunt appeared over the next dune, shouting for help at the sign of the monolithic green demon that was the Master Chief. However, the Chief wasn't in the mood for listening to this alien speaking. He pulled his trigger once and let out a three shot burst from his assault rifle.
In his mind, the Master Chief was recapping. He had landed here in a crashed Forerunner ship sent from the second Halo the earthlings had found. He took control of the ship single handedly, shattering the spirits and bones of its alien crew. Only the Prophet of Truth, the last hierarch of the Covenant, remained. Chief knew he was inside the structure somewhere, but not exactly where. The Forerunner ship had crashed several miles away. It self-destructed, sending a black cloud of smoke on the savanna. After crashing, an impossible sight became known to him; he was watching a massive war between Covenants and humans. On Earth. The only other time the Covenant had came to Earth was when they attacked with a small fleet. They had been destroyed quickly because of the Prophet of Regret's haste actions; he only brought a couple of ships. But now, things were different.
The Spartan's species were getting their ass kicked. Once the Chief arrived though, all of that changed. He wiped out half a Covenant army, which was a full day's work for him. He then found himself nearing this giant structure with tons of Covenant ships surrounding it. The Chief stared down on the structure from his cliff top perch. The structure's center emitted a massive laser beam that spanned light-years to its destination, which was the Halo that Master Chief, had just arrived from. The blast had had enormous power. The Chief, however, had survived. He had trudged to the nearest Marine outpost for further orders. And, much to his displeasure, his orders were to hike back to the structure he had just left from.
The energy burst from the structure had been seen from miles around. After much debate, FLEETCOM had come up with a theory. According to them, the beam was a remote activation, and basically the whole frickin' galaxy was going to go boom boom. Unless of course, the Chief could shut off the remote activation before it finished transmitting the firing codes to the ultimate weapon, Halo. The code took ten hours to transmit. It was crunch time.
Halo is designed as a protection against a parasitic race called the Flood, who kill people and take over their bodies. Halo, however, can't make the Flood die, it can only starve them. To do that, Halo has to wipe out all sentient life on the galaxy so the Flood won't be able to kill and eat anyone else. Who thought of that brilliant idea, right? Master Chief barely went over that detail though. The Flood weren't on Earth; that was the important thing. If they landed on the planet, the human race wouldn't have to worry about Halo blowing them up. The Flood will finish the job. So all he had to do was kill the Covenant, who were almost as bad. Almost. Oh, this will be fun, the Chief thought.
Soon after the Chief annihilated the Grunt's squad, he came upon a gruesome sight. A massive squad of Marines lay dead on the grass, surrounded by the slain Covenant they had killed. There was one Marine left however. An Elite major had the Marine in his grip, an energy sword posed right near the ensign's throat. The poor man was screeching curses; lying on the ground pinned down by the Elite's clawed feet. The Elite chuckled merrily and began to strike at his victim. Laugh at this, ugly, the Chief thought. He inserted about six rounds of lead into the Elite's four jawed mouth and watched them burst out the other end in a shower of visceral and blood. The alien's grip went slack, and his foot flew off the ensign's gut. The Marine stared numbly at the dead Elite before him, his mouth agape in surprise and relief.
"Get up soldier," the Chief said briskly. "Your gun's at your feet. Grab it and get a move on. We got aliens to kill, and I have a monument to blow up. Move it!"
The Marine was so shocked he couldn't speak. He looked in his early twenties, short black hair covered the top and back of his head. He was wearing half a suit of standard Marine uniform; a sleeve was missing, the armored vest was cut open, and he had a cut on one leg. The Marine was the healthiest looking human the Chief had seen since Delta Halo. The man grabbed his assault rifle, checked its ammo, and stood up. His green suit was covered in purple gore from the Elite that lay dead at his feet. Finally, he managed to speak.
"Th…thank you, sir. I don't really know what to say. I've never seen a Spartan before. Um… so, what do you need me to do?
"Just stay with me and keep your head down," responded the Chief.
The soldier responded with a brief nod and walked over to the Chief. He saluted, and then took his position behind the Spartan's back.
There was a civil war going on in the Covenant at that time. The Brutes, ape-like aliens, had sided with the Prophets against the Elites. The Brutes had the Drones, Jackals, Grunts, Hunters, and basically everyone else on their side. The Elites and Grunts on Earth however, knew nothing about the civil war. They had arrived before the Brute ships, and were following their orders. They had been away from the Halo for so long they had no knowledge of the betrayal that was taking place there. The Brutes had landed on Earth by now, but they were miles away from the Elites. So until things changed and the Brutes and Elites started fighting and a triangular war started, the Master Chief simply obliterated anything in his path.
The Chief and his new Marine companion trudged through the blood-stained grass of the Serengeti. Occasionally, they came upon a small squad of Grunts. The encounters were short and lethal. In a matter of hours, Chief and the Marine had left a trail of bloody bodies in their wake. In this time, Chief learned the Marine's name: Private Third Class Michael Terren. The ensign told Chief to call him Mike.
After walking through about thirty miles of grass, bodies, and assorted rubble, the Chief and Mike came upon a riveting discovery. A warthog, half buried in sand, lay in a small notch of land below a hill. The duo quickly dug out the warthog to find that it was upside down.
"Oh, great. Now how are we going to drive this thing?" complained Mike.
The Chief grabbed the side fender of the warthog and yanked, hard. The jeep flipped over, and all of the sand inside it spilled off the sides. Mike stared at the Chief in awe, his mouth wider than it was after the Elite's skull was ripped open by the Chief's gun. He turned to his Spartan companion.
"Can you teach me how to do that?
Chief chuckled and hopped in the driver's seat of the warthog. He motioned with his fist for Mike to grab the turret. After a quick check, they found that the turret was on full ammo. Whoever previously owned this warthog must have gotten killed before they could fire a shot. It was good for Chief and Mike though; they were going to need all the ammo they could get.
Inside the warthog, the two UNSC personnel made much better time then when they were walking. The massive structure came closer and closer as the jeep gained more ground. When the top of the structure was in sight, Mike cheered. Oddly enough, they were at the same spot that the Chief was standing when the structure sent out its transmition. They looked down at the structure before them. Mike let out a whoop. That is, until he saw the hundreds of Covenant bastards waiting at the bottom of the monolith.
"Oh, sh…" Mike was cut off by a fuel rod gun missile exploding at the warthog's wheel. The jeep was sent flying into the air and crashed upside-down on a sand dune. Mike was thrown clear from the hog and landed about ten meters away, unconscious. The Chief leapt out of the warthog right before it crashed and used the explosion to boost him toward a rock jutting out of the grass, all the way at the bottom of the cliff. The Spartan fell dozens of meters toward the rock and the small space between the cliff and the structure where the Covenant waited. He landed behind it and ducked down as the Grunts and Elites opened up on him, plasma spewing from their weapons. The Spartan poked his head out and lay down some suppressive fire on the foot soldiers. Several of them hit the ground, blood spewing from bullet holes all over their bodies. The Chief rolled out of his hiding spot and charged the Covenant soldiers, assault rifle cackling with pleasure at the lives it and the green-armored Spartan took. After taking several plasma shots to the chest, a red light began to blink inside his helmet followed by an annoying beeping noise.
His shields were down.
The Chief ran like hell toward the rock he hid behind before. Several shots hit him in the back, but thankfully his armor held. He jumped behind the rock, firing as he went. The bullets passed through Covenant armor and skin, and alien casualties mounted. The Spartan let loose more bullets and watched them do their job. After a couple of minutes, his ammo count ticked zero and the gun quit firing. Chief started down at the rifle for a brief second and then threw it to the ground. He whipped out his M6G magnum sidearm and began to fire. The weapon had a slower rate of fire than the magnum he had used on the ring; the Chief had found it on the battlefield. The bullets were also more damaging then assault rifle bullets, but there were less of them in the gun. The Chief exhausted that weapon and climbed the cliff back up toward the burning warthog.
The super-soldier checked around for his friend and finally found the ensign close to the hog. The Chief felt a pulse, so he knew that Mike was still alive. The Spartan quickly smacked the marine across the face to jolt him out of his toper. The soldier started but then relaxed when he saw the Chief in front of him. "I need my gun," the soldier said weakly.
"No way soldier, you're too delirious to hold a weapon. I better take it. I promise not to waste all the ammo. Rest easy. You'll be safe here; the hog will serve as shelter. Hide under it," the Chief told the marine.
Mike gave a weak nod and crawled inside the flipped warthog. He used what was once the upright driver and shotgun seat for a bed. The Chief didn't have time to check on Mike though. He grabbed his friend's assault rifle and jumped out of the shelter of the jeep to engage the enemy. What he saw left him speechless.
The Brutes had caught up with the Elites. The Chief had seen Brutes and Elites fighting before at the holy city above Halo, but not at this scale. Hundreds of the aliens charged each other, swords and guns flashing. The Brutes had been hyped up since the Chief last saw them. They now wore armor, and had plasma weapons that looked more like a human gun than a Covenant one. The weapons had two barrels and three bayonets at the bottom and sides. The Brute chieftains were armed with massive hammers that were used to crush Elite and Grunt skulls with gusto. The Elites weren't going down without a fight, though. They had energy swords, which were faster and more lethal than the Brute hammers. Black Brute blood spewed out of the holes the swords created, and Elite plasma weapons discharged balls of fire that tore into the Brute ranks.
As much as the Chief liked watching his enemies blow crap out of one another, time was running out. The signal beacon was almost fully transmitted. The Chief had less than an hour to go. He needed to take care of these guys, and fast.
"Oh, sweet salvation," the Chief said as he spotted something on the ground. A Jackhammer rocket launcher was half buried in sand. He dug it out and took off the safety. The little beauty was fully loaded.
Hu-rah.
The Chief targeted an especially large concentration of Brutes, the launcher's scope aimed at dead center. He pulled the trigger and let the rocket fly. Ten Brutes lay dead on the ground. The Chief was going to have a hell of a time.
Meanwhile, Mike was starting to crawl out of the warthog. Even though the Spartan gave an order, Mike wasn't about to miss the action. Technically, his El-tee was dead, so really, this Spartan wasn't in charge of him. He grabbed a magnum from the glove compartment of the warthog and slowly got up. He searched the landscape for his Spartan companion and saw him standing at the top of the gulch that the warthog landed in. A Jackhammer was in his hand, its two barrels ablaze with ozone and rocket fuel. The ground around him was covered in dust and blood; his armor caked with dirt.
It was a magnificent sight to behold.
Mike ran up the ridge towards the Chief, but was interrupted by a massive explosion next to him. For what was probably the tenth time that day, Mike was thrown in the air and landed unceremoniously on top of a sand dune. He exhaled as the breath was knocked out of him. The marine was searching for the source of the explosion when the remnants of a Ghost hit the ground about a meter from his face.
The ensign started and jumped back. Apparently that Jackhammer does more damage than I thought, Mike thought. He got back up and ran toward the Chief and took his position next to him, M6 pistol firing down at an armored Brute hundreds of meters down the cliff.
"Marine, I thought I told you to stay in the 'hog. Unless you want the crap blown out of you, I suggest you get back under that jeep. I don't have time for babysitting," the Chief yelled as he saw Mike coming up the ridge.
"But sir, I can help. I'm feeling much better now. I," Mike was interrupted by the Chief firing a rocket out of his Jackhammer. Mike's eardrums felt like they were going to explode. Not wanting to be deaf at the age of 23, the Marine ran back toward the warthog and crawled underneath it.
After telling the marine to take shelter, the Spartan let loose his final rocket on the Covenant platoon below him. At least a dozen Covenant lost their lives, and several more were wounded. The Chief leapt off the ridge and fell once more into the depression leading to the Forerunner monument. Wind rushed passed him, and his legs groaned as he hit the ground, but the Spartan didn't care. Some short assault rifle bursts blew out the brains and innards of the remaining aliens.
After searching several dead bodies, the noncom located a SMG and a battle rifle. Swapping both his assault rifle and empty launcher for the guns, he continued on. He briefly paused as to wonder why Covenant would pick up human weaponry when their own guns were considered better. Sensing that he would need a rapid fire weapon with more ammo however, the Chief quickly returned to the spot and grabbed his assault rifle. He slung the battle rifle over his back, and stuck the SMG in his hip holster.
It was time to kill some aliens.
The Spartan walked into the monument through a massive doorway. There were two black commando guards waiting for him when he entered. Several seconds after he entered, there were no more guards.
Whether the Covenant knew it or not, their worst nightmare had just entered the monument they had worked so hard to keep safe.
Legacy Ch.2
Date: 12 January 2009, 8:35 pm
Chapter 2: The Forerunners
December 25, 2552, Kenya, Africa/ Inside unknown Forerunner Structure/ 1000 hours Mission Clock
THE CHIEF walked through a series of fluorescent lit hallways before coming upon a large cavernous chamber. In the center was a massive control panel, and a series of walkways that led to upper levels crisscrossed above. Stairs led down to the control panel that was on a large dais. Around the stairs were about a dozen doorways that led to the different sections of the monument. It was obvious that this was the control room.
Strangely, there were no guards around the control panel. The Chief constantly looked at this motion tracker in the lower left corner of his HUD, but saw no red dots. He approached quietly, his boots clanking on the metallic floor. The noncom examined the control console, but saw no way to stop the remote activation. Although, the Chief knew nothing about this technology so it didn't matter anyway.
The Spartan heard movement. He spun around and clicked the safety off on his assault rifle. At the same time, he clicked the safety off the battle rifle on his back and the SMG in his hip holster. He would need to switch weapons rapidly, he predicted.
Three Brutes appeared out of one of the dozen or so doors around the Chief. Their strange weapons flashed and spikes flew toward the Spartan, or at least where the Spartan had been.
The Chief circled behind the control panel and dodged the strange projectiles. One of the Brutes was a chieftain, and he charged at the Chief, swinging his hammer. The Spartan had an idea. He ran back to the front of the control panel and waited for the Brute to get close.
At the last second, the noncom leapt out of the way of the charging ape-like alien and watched with satisfaction as the Brute slammed into the control console. Electricity ran through the Brute, and he made several jerking motions before standing still, dazed.
Still dodging plasma fire and spikes, the Spartan jumped on the Brutes back and buried his assault rifle's barrel into the Brutes skull. The Chief pulled the trigger twice. The super-soldier jumped off the alien and watched it topple to the ground, dead. Blood gushed out of its skull.
The Chief twirled around and let loose a steady barrage of fire at the other two Brutes. He concentrated several short bursts on the lead Brute, and smiled as it hit the floor. The Spartan rushed up towards the other one and bashed his rifle butt on the Brute's head. He then hit the dazed Brute with three five round bursts of lead. The alien flew dramatically to the floor, never to get up.
Several spikes pinged around him. The Chief looked up and saw that four more Brutes were firing on him from the catwalks above. He shot about ten shots at a Brute and then realized he was out of ammo. The Spartan slammed a fresh magazine into the assault rifle and continued firing. Two Brutes fell of the catwalks, victims of lead overdose.
The other two Brutes managed to score several shots on the Spartan. Inside his helmet, the Chief heard the bleeping noise. He ducked behind the control panel and waited for his shields to recharge. Plasma fire swept at his position.
As soon as his shields were up, the Master Chief ran out of his hiding spot and began to fire once again at the Brutes. He reloaded quickly and was about to fire when he had an idea. The Spartan ran back to the control panel and leapt on top of it. From there, he jumped up toward the nearest Brute on the catwalk, primed a plasma grenade, and stuck the blue glowing bomb on the Brute's head. The Spartan fell to the floor and felt satisfaction enter his body as the Brute exploded and sent his companion flying. Before he could move, another Brute leapt off the walkway. Groaning, the Spartan shot more than half his clip at the Brute before swinging around and letting the beast charge. He Brute tripped over the steps and toppled to the ground, and the Chief finished him with a swift stomp to the head. The Chief ran toward the wounded Brute on the ground, the last Brute, and emptied the rest of his assault rifle clip into the bastard for good measure.
The Spartan stopped only to reload.
The Chief walked through the door the three Brutes came out of and entered a narrow hallway. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but something was driving him to whatever it was. After continuing on for several hallways without any enemy attack, he came upon what appeared to be a library.
Holo-books rested on shelves, and consoles dotted the room. It was shaped roughly like an oval, with the larger shelves toward the outer edge. There was only two other doors; one directly across from the Chief, and two at the sides of the room. That wasn't what interested the Spartan though. The thing that was most troubling was the fact that there were about two dozen Brutes and Jackals lining the room. Also, the fact that they were currently opening fire on the six Elites standing in a line right in front of the Chief.
He raised his assault rifle and rested his finger on the trigger.
Back at the warthog outside, Private Mike Terren walked across the ridge towards the deep depression in which the entrance to the monument lay. As he looked around, he saw most of the bodies had been torn apart by a rocket launcher, but others had plasma burns and bullet holes. The ensign climbed slowly into the pit.
After about fifteen minutes of climbing, Terren hit the bottom. Suddenly, the marine heard movement. He quickly checked his pistol and found there was only one round left in the clip. Before he could reload, a Brute got up from a tangle of bodies nearby and charged him.
Mike raised the pistol and fired its last shot, hoping for a miracle. There wasn't one. The Brute stumbled for a bit but then got right back up and rammed into the ensign.
Mike flew straight into the air and landed in a disgruntled heap next to some dead Elites.
Eleventh time today, Mike thought as he landed.
Before he could get up, the Private was stepped on hard in the stomach by the Brute. The alien roared and lowered his plasma rifle at Mike's face.
Thinking fast, the Private primed a frag grenade from his belt and threw it… straight into the Brute's mouth. The creature choked a little bit, rolled over, and exploded. Mike covered his face and felt something hot splash across him. He looked down and realized he was covered in black Brute blood. He got up shakily and looked down at the dead ape thing on the ground in front of him.
He shook his head and kept walking.
The Chief was about to fire when one of the Elites whipped around and grabbed him by the throat. He pulled the Spartan close to him and lowered his plasma rifle at the noncoms gut. A shot at this close range would kill the Chief.
The Spartan wasn't about to die yet. He kicked out at the alien and sent him sprawling. Unfortunately, that cleared a space for the Brutes to fire at him. A Brute shot blast smashed him right in the chest. His shields failed.
The other five Elites charged the Brutes. The Chief waited until they were packed together in a melee, and then threw a plasma grenade. It stuck onto one of the Jackals heads. The sixth Elite got up and smashed the Spartan with his gun. An explosion was the last thing the Spartan heard before blackness overtook him.
Mike Terren walked into the structure, nervous. He came upon a room that he could only call a control room. Bodies littered the ground. It was obvious the Chief had been here. He looked at the control panel. It was damaged and sparks flew from it. Just as he was about to press a button, he heard something behind him. He whipped around and saw a Brute charging him.
The ape-like alien smashed the Marine head on. Mike went flying up and landed on one of the crisscrossing catwalks that lined the ceiling. The Brute leapt up to him and took out a plasma rifle. Mike fired at the Brute but it was no good. The magnum was flung out of his hand by the Brute's fist.
The Brute was about to squeeze the trigger when an energy sword protruded from his gut. He fell of the catwalk, dead.
Terren got up and saw a black commando Elite in front of him. The Elite punched him in the face, and Terren blacked out.
"Wake up, demon. We have been waiting to meet you in person for some time now."
The Chief heard this raspy voice as he slipped out of his unconsciousness. An Elite stood in front of him, no weapons in his hand. He snarled when he noticed that the Chief was awake. The Chief snarled when he noticed the aliens had stolen his helmet.
"Do not move and you shall not be harmed. You must listen to us, for what we are about to say concerns both our races," the black clad Elite said.
Yeah, right, the Chief thought. He sprang forward and rammed the Elite with his shoulder. The alien went sprawling. Five more Elites surrounded him, all in black. Behind them, a gold Elite stood, weaponless. They all were weaponless. The Chief took advantage of this. As the aliens closed in, the Spartan swept his legs in a circle and dropped all five. He grabbed a plasma rifle from one of their holsters. He charged the gold Elite and rammed the plasma rifle into the alien's shield generator, right near his heart. The noncom's finger rested on the rifle's trigger.
The Chief was about to fire when he turned his head a bit and noticed that the door behind him was open.
The Spartan bolted out, dropping the gold armored Elite in the process.
He ran outside into a hallway that he guessed was in the detention block area of the massive structure. He saw a plasma grenade on the ground near an empty crate. He grabbed the grenade and jumped in the crate.
"Where is that demon?" questioned an Elite as he came out of the cell block. "We better not lose him, call for a search party! And the Arbiter said it would be easy to reason with him."
"The Arbiter is going to have our head for this, Natamm," said another Elite.
"Forget about the Arbiter, I'm more worried about what His Excellency Zutam has to say about this. He is not exactly forgiving."
"He never agreed to the treaty in the first place, anyway. He'll probably be glad if we lost him. Zutam doesn't have a reputation for friendly politics with the enemy."
John listened to this conversation from his hiding place within the crate, amazed at what they were saying. Were they really telling the truth? Or did they know he was around somewhere and were trying to fool him into leaving his hiding spot? Unfortunately, the Chief couldn't take the risk. He leapt out of the crate and threw the primed plasma grenade at the Elite called Natamm, but it missed and hit the wall next to the other Elite instead. He fell to the ground in a blast of white plasma. Alive, yes, but wounded.
"Blast the Arbiter! However, I must ask you this if I wish to live, so listen!"
The Master Chief stared questioningly and nodded. However, he kept his plasma rifle's target reticule lined up on Natamm's face.
Before the alien could speak however, a detachment of Brutes burst out of a nearby door. The Elite turned to them and took out his energy sword.
"Run, human, and do so quickly! I will hold them off. You need to survive!"
At first the Chief didn't want to run, but after seeing the army of Brutes charging him and only being armed with a plasma rifle, he had no choice. The other three Elites ran out of the cell block and helped Natamm. The Chief didn't stop to look what happened next. He ran to the nearest door and came upon the largest room he had ever seen.
The room was probably 10 kilometers in diameter, an endless series of steps, catwalks, and in the center, a console. It was the beacon control room. The Chief walked up to the console and pressed a button. He wasn't sure why he pressed it, but it just felt right to do so.
A massive human being wearing a white robe burst out of the console. It was a hologram, but it looked incredibly lifelike, if not for the slight translucent quality it had to it. It had to be 5 meters tall, at least.
"Ah, human. Welcome to the beacon room. Judging by your mission clock it seems you have 10 minutes before Halo fires. The button to stop the beacon is next to the one you just pressed, on the right.
The Chief pressed the button. A rumbling sound filled the room, and a massive energy beam burst out of the floor in front of the console, and shut off. All was quiet.
John looked at the massive figure, puzzled.
"It is you, John," the hologram whispered, "Oh, do I have a long story to tell you."
"A long time ago, probably before this planet was formed, a race existed called the Ancients. You call us Forerunners, as do the Covenant. We looked like you, talked like you, and had emotions like you."
"We lived in a galaxy hundreds of thousands of light years away from here. After reaching the pinnacle of technological advancement in our own galaxy, we set out to explore the universe. We left our galaxy with a fleet of thousands, and conquered each and every galaxy we went to. Finally, we came to yours."
"The first planet we visited had a very primitive group of life forms, the predecessors of what you call the Elites, or Sangheilli. We didn't bother conquering them, because of their lack of intelligence. However, on the second planet, we found a race of xenophobes that you call the Flood. A massive battle followed the encounter. Hundreds of thousands of us fell to the Flood, turned into beasts. We managed to capture all of the remaining Flood and our mutated brethren."
"It was clear that the Flood would destroy everything in their path. However, our scientists believed they could be tamed, and used as tools to help our universal-wide rule. We built installations that housed them, that you call, Halos. There were seven instillations, each one holding millions of Flood infection forms."
"We all realized something could go wrong in these stations; a Flood outbreak or something. So we equipped each station with a weapon that would wipe out all life in a massive radius. When all of the instillations fired together, the galaxy will be emptied of life that the Flood could feast on."
"Before you say anything, believe me, we considered other options. After long years of studying, we found that the only way to effectively eradicate the entire species was starving them. After we fixed all of those issues, we had one last thing to do."
"We managed to treat our brethren who were Flood controlled. However, their intelligence was diminished to next to nothing, and their bodies were misshapen. For example, large foreheads, a clumsy walk, and thicker bones. Also, they lost their long life spans. Most Ancients lived for hundreds of you years, hence our name. These mutants lived only to 50 or so, with good health."
"We did not wish to kill them, for we thought they may evolve back to their normal selves. We did not wish to have them live with us either though. So we searched for a suitable planet to house them until the time they regained their intelligence. Several of the Ancients stayed behind to safeguard Halo and the Flood."
"When we were about midway through our fruitless journey to find a habitable plant for our mutated brothers, the Ancients back near the Halos contacted us. They told us that they were worried that the Ancients would die out or not be around when and if the Flood broke free. Our High Council gave them permission to construct a monitor for each instillation, a super intelligent AI, that would teach the primitive alien race (now the Covenant) what to do if the Flood broke free. We would have laughed then if we believed that the Covenant would eventually consider the monitor a 'holy relic'."
"Finally, our search ended. We found a planet that had a temperate climate and habitable atmosphere. It was already inhabited by furry creatures we called mammals. Also, it was inhabited by creatures that looked very much like us. They, however, like the mutants, had a very short life-span. Considering their likenesses, we believed interbreeding between the two species was likely."
"We dropped off the mutated Ancients, that we called humans now, and began constructing a massive relic. It could remotely activate Halo in case of emergency, since this was the only other planet we could control in the galaxy. It also doubled as housing for some of the humans, so the energy field produced by Halo did not kill them. They were safe, buried deep within the Ark's superstructure. After the rings had fired, they would be let out. You are standing inside that relic now. Some humans, in fact most, remained outside the Ark. I tracked their progress. Once we were finished on the new planet we christened Earth, all of us decided to return to the Halos. All except me. I decided to remain behind in case the humans regained their intelligence."
"Years passed. The progress of the humans was slow, unfortunately, despite the eons of intelligence stored within the minds of my mutant brethren. Perhaps the interbreeding with the others caused most of that intelligence to be lost; I will never know. About 1,500 years after the original landing, I got a distress signal from the other Ancients. The Flood had escaped! They had no choice. They activated instillation 004, and killed themselves. When I didn't die, and Earth didn't die, I began to wonder. I sent probes back to Halo, curious about my brothers' fate. The rings had malfunctioned. Only two fired; the other five remained inactive. Earth was safe. I was also curious about the other aliens near Halo. It turns out the Ancients had hid them on one of the rings, and they were spared. They were protected by a massive reinforced based on Instillation 007. I never knew why the Ancients decided to protect them. Their evolution was faster than the humans', and they began taking Ancient technology and "improving" it, building weapons and cities. However, they didn't know the damage they were doing to already perfect technology."
"As I was getting old, I knew that I was the only Ancient left. I had to keep myself alive. So I transferred my intellect into this computer, preserved for all time. I kept watch on the humans via monitors. After a while, they evolved more quickly, and eventually were able to travel in space. Once you and the other humans found Halo, I realized that the cycle was complete. I kept track of you especially using cameras on Halo and the Covenant vessels. Your progress interested me, as did your tremendous strength. I watched several humans like you over the years, like Napoleon, Caesar, and Washington. Many thought them heroes and geniuses, but they weren't. They just had really good memories. You began to uncover more and more Forerunner technology, but still you did not realize your heritage. Finally, when you arrived here, I figured it was up to me to tell you. And now here we are."
Obviously, the Master Chief was speechless.
The hologram of the Ancient smiled and said, "I realize you are confused. However, think very hard. Try to remember. You know how to use Covenant control panels because they mimic Forerunner technology. You know how to use Covenant weapons because they mimic Forerunner weapons. Is it not obvious yet, John?"
Still wondering why this thing knew his name, the Master Chief thought about it hard. In a flash of mercury in his head, similar to the sensation he felt when Cortana entered his mind, he remembered. It all came back, the technology, the heritage, everything. He had to hold his head as the flash of memory overwhelmed him. Again, he felt blackness overcome him.
When the Chief awoke, he looked around quickly. He was still inside the fire control room, and the Forerunner giant hovered over him. The memories, the flashes of light, they were gone. They still seemed to be there, however, hanging on the edge of John's consciousness, about to fall to oblivion. When he reached for them with the tendrils of his mind, they seemed to slip further from the edge. Finally, he gave up and withdrew, leaving his memories to their darkness in his mind.
When the AI realized that the Spartan was revived, he smiled.
"Glad to see you back in the world of the conscious, John," he said. "I believe, however, that it is time for you to go. The Covenant are fast approaching, and I would not have you be killed by them. However, before you go, I bestow upon you a gift. Consider it a token of the Forerunners."
Next to the massive hologram, a large cylinder sprouted from the ground. It opened in a flash of sapphire light. Inside, there stood a suit of armor.
The armor almost mimicked John's MJLONIR armor perfectly. It had the same style helmet, and body, but the arms were a bit more armored, and the gloves were totally covered with the armor. The legs were slightly longer, but also better armored. The material seemed to shine, lighting the massive room. The entire suit was a bright shade of gold.
"Touch it," the Forerunner AI commanded.
John did so, and felt a rush of neurological interfaces span his body. His own suit liquefied and reformed inside the container. However, John was wearing the pure gold suit. It fit perfectly, and when he moved, he felt faster. Stronger. Invincible.
"Good luck Spartan. Remember, the human race is counting on you. As your adventure continues, you will unlock more memories. The memories are available for access in your mind, but you must see something related to them in order to trigger them. Teach your race John. Teach the human race to be invincible again."
"Now, let me get you out of this accursed place before I destroy it."
"Destroy it?" asked John, almost sarcastically. "Why? Don't you like being immortal?"
"It is not as good as it sounds. Plus, my mission is complete. Now, it is up to you to continue my mission. Good luck, John, Spartan 117, Master Chief, or whatever they call you. Before you leave, take your old armor, you may need it." The cylinder shrunk to a small cube, and the Chief picked it up and stored it inside the suit. He nodded at the hologram and closed his eyes.
John felt his molecules dissolve into trillions of pieces as he was sucked through a wormhole. When he landed, he looked around. He was on the peak of the cliff overlooking the Forerunner structure. It began to explode.
Mike.
Oh, screw it all. Why the hell did I have to get knocked out?
Mike thought this as he ran through the endless hallways of the Forerunner structure. He had awoken several minutes ago in a cell. It was empty except for him, and he heard a rumbling noise. Soon after, all of hell broke loose. Everything was blowing up. He ran through several hallways, looking for a way out.
He came upon a hangar, and saw a Banshee inside. Good enough, Mike thought. He hopped in one and flew out of the hangar into the large hallway, pressing random buttons hoping that the damn craft would stay straight. Luckily the Banshee could fit through them. The private speeded through hallways. Soon, he saw a service ramp. He flew up it, gaining speed. Explosions followed him.
The service ramp ended in a massive gap that led to an exit. Mike gunned the engine and held his breath as the Banshee flew out of the structure. The monument exploded behind him. Mike screamed as he flew through the air.
The Master Chief looked at the sky as the structure exploded. He was searching for a Pelican or a Banshee or something that could have saved Mike. Finally, he saw a dot. He used the zoom function on his new helmet. It zoomed in much closer to the dot than his old helmet would have.
It was a Banshee. The Chief realized that the Banshee was heading straight for him.
As the air-craft sped toward the Spartan, the Chief held out his hands to catch it. The hovercraft smashed into his armored gloves and was dented inward toward the cockpit, Mike was jolted forward, and he tumbled off the side of the craft and onto the dirt.
"Fifteenth time today…" he muttered. Then he lost conciousness.
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