The Unity/ Chapter 21

The Unity
Chapter 21
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Location: Requiem
Human Time: 2:00 pm/ 1400 hours
Writer: The Examiner

    He had found this artificial world so small, The Justice Enforcer. The Pursuer left the comfort of his Impervious Mettle to “breathe” while it waited elsewhere to fulfill a secondary purpose. Malachi had come to this fake planet to follow someone. Some time earlier, a lowly Forerunner Promethean named Shadow-of-a-Sundered-Star(Ur Didact) attempted to attack Earth by composing all Humans into AI slaves as his soldiers. His plot of revenge ended as a humiliating failure.
    He was defeated by the Master Chief, and was thrown into a slipspace portal in his own ship. Assuming the portal killed the Didact, the Spartan set off a warhead in the Forerunner ship. The ship was destroyed at the cost of the Chief’s AI companion, Cortana. This presented the Didact both a good and bad situation.
    The slipspace portal hadn’t killed him, and gave him the chance to find the other Composers that laid dormant. But after the Enforcer sensed the Didact’s presence, the ship’s portal was manipulated to take the Didact back to Requiem where the Enforcer was waiting for him. The Forerunner was shocked to find himself back in his prison. The Didact looked around to make sure it was the same place. The metal pillars reaching to the sky and the artificial hillsides coupled with grasslands and canyons were enough conformation. But he looked up to see something alarming.
    Requiem’s sky wasn’t the same. There was an opening in the sky that revealed the stars of neighboring systems. Usually it meant that the metallic surface was opening to let something in to eventually close again to be comforted by the shield world’s artificial blue atmosphere. But this was not what made it unusual. As the Forerunner gazed up, the stars in the day’s sky did not disappear, meaning the opening hadn’t closed. In fact, the hole was growing.
    More neighboring stars were revealing themselves by the second. Something was forcefully widening the open space in the shield. It was as if some sort of invisible creature was tearing open the shell of a turtle to dig around in the flesh and bone to claim its prize. The Didact could not believe his eyes. The only threat that came to his mind was the Flood. But not even they were capable of doing things like this.
    Millions upon millions of Sentinels quickly swarmed out of Requiem’s false stony ground to nurse the planet’s wound. But by the time the small robots reached the seemingly invisible being, they evaporated into mist to be absorbed by the cause of the hole that was still growing. All the Didact could do was stare in awe. The sentinels eventually halted their advancement either out of apathy, or the possibility that something was telling them not to pursue.  
    Over time, the shield world’s shell was gone. Requiem’s sky became endless dusk coated in stars; and then, Didact finally saw the invisible vortex took visual shape in the atmosphere to reveal itself. The mass in the sky appeared to be a massive graphite colored storm cloud. But this was far more than a mere weather anomaly. As the sky slowly became brighter as the dark cloud waved in the sky, it slowly funneled into a cone like shape. Spinning in a corkscrew pattern as it gracefully approached the surface of the Forerunner construct.
    As the Promethean watched the granite colored cone funnel downward, he realized that the cone was not a type of drill as he was beginning to suspect. The material was a cloak of some kind. A cape. One that was far too big to be draped around anyone’s shoulders. Yet at the bottom of the twirling cone of dark fabric stood a massive humanoid figure in light grey armor with a blinding snow white gaze that pierced through the eye receptacles of his helmet. The figure held its arms in the air as the impossibly long cloak stretched to the heavens to carry him down.
    By the time the figure reached the surface, his feet gently and gracefully touched the artificial stone that made up the ground while the cloak slowly descended behind him. The figure rested his arms to his side as he towered over the Didact nearby. Standing taller than any War Sphinx that could ever be built by the Forerunners. The figure looked around to assess his surroundings. The small metal pieces in his helmet shifted to show brief glimpses of emotion. He gazed upon the installation with what looked like disgust. He noticed the Forerunner standing alone. The massive figure began to walk toward the Didact.
    Two rifts in time and space took form in the figure’s palms. They spun like tops as the figure was shedding light grey mist from its body to be sucked in by the whirlpools of cosmic energy. The quick loss of mass made the armored figure shrink to the Forerunner’s size by the time he reached him. The Pursuer reached the Didact by being his exact height. Yet his massive cape stretched as long as a Covenant Assault Carrier. Little air supported it. But it still fluttered off the ground regardless. It moved in the air like the rippling movements of water.
    The Pursuer faced the Didact. But he looked over the Promethean as if he was looking for something else. He approached the Didact, seeming as if he wasn’t even there. The Promethean tried to use his combat skin’s gravity manipulation, but the grey figure didn’t didn’t stray from it’s movement.
    The figure at this point was right in the Didact’s face. Measuring to his exact height, he still continued. The Forerunner swung a barbaric punch, hoping that it would at least do something. The Didact’s fist made contact with the figure, but his entire arm swung through the figure as if he wasn’t there.
    The figure kept moving. It kept moving to the point where the figure’s body phased through the Didact as if he was one with the air. The cape swirled around him like opposing tides in a river. After walking through him, the figure stopped. It seemed that he found what it was looking for.
Malachi held his hand outward; palm facing the ground. A cosmic disc formed in his hand again. As it spun, the ground beneath him began to crumble as the stone and Sentinel metal evaporated into mist to be absorbed by the disc. The ground collapsed, revealing a hole that kept deepening. The hole widened enough for the figure to hover while the planet continuously burrowed into itself. The hole eventually revealed a bright shimmer. The figure stopped digging. This was apparently what he was looking for.
    Most Forerunner shield world's act as a Dyson Sphere. An empty shell with a slipspace portal acting as the core. On the other side exists a flipped over version of the same world with a star powering it. The Pursuer found it to be the perfect fuel to temporarily power his suit. Since his suit laid dormant for millions of years sustaining the mostly organic being, it would need all the fuel it could get to one day face off against a threat that was worthy of his time.
    The Pursuer’s back faced the Forerunner. The cape was so large that it blocked the intruder from view. The Didact was dumbstruck. He had lost his ship along with many of his Servants to the Human warrior, and now the Sentinels were being forced to disobey their primary programming. But after noticing that bright tendrils of solar plasma were being absorbed by the intruder, he needed to act then and now. He cried out to anything that could listen.

The Didact: Prometheans! Dispose of this intruder! Reveal to him the penalty of threatening the Forerunners! Protect the legacy while it still holds!

Suddenly, bright flashes appeared all around the front of the Pursuer. Malachi knew full well that they were there; yet did not stop absorbing the star’s energy that powered the planet. Promethean Knights appeared all around him. Peeling away the facial pieces of their armor to reveal the bright orange skulls that made up their heads. They cried out loud screams to intimidate him. But the Pursuer did not move. One of them fired an incendiary canon blast at the Pursuer to incapacitate him. The blast had dissipated before it even reached him. Another Promethean knight leaped into the air; thrusting his hard-light sword arm toward him. The orange blade was swung into the armored torso before it reached three inches away from his chest. Then it stopped.
    The blade and the entire knight froze in time in front of the Pursuer. The solar plasma finally stopped its advancement in the vortex swirling in the Pursuer’s hand. The vortex faded, and the god-like Pursuer turned his head to look at the Promethean in the eyes. Malachi brushed his hand to the left to push the blade arm out of his way with his mind. He leaned forward to observe the Promethean closer.
    The other knights were unsure what to do. They had an unrelenting impulse to kill anything that was not them. But an unknown voice in their heads forced those violent thoughts to subside. The Pursuer stretched his arm to touch the Promethean’s cheek, and stroked his hand on its head as if he were petting a friendly animal. The Pursuer then spoke to it in a booming, yet comforting voice that a father would use to sooth his child. This presence gave the suffering Human soul inside a comforting warmth inside their cold shell.

The Enforcer: What is your name, young one?

Why would he ask this question to an empty husk? Surely it couldn’t possibly have known the life it had before it was taken away. Yet the Promethean somehow found the words it wanted to say. It answered Malachi’s question in an exhausted elderly female voice.

The Promethean: Tillson. My name……….is Sandra Tillson.

The Enforcer: What has happened to you? Why are you like this?

The Promethean: It was that damn Forerunner. He killed my colleagues, and made us into these…….THINGS!!

The Enforcer: Shhh. You do not need to worry about him anymore. I am here now.

The Promethean: Thank you for comforting me, whatever you are. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this much comfort before.

The Enforcer: You are quite welcome, Human.

The Promethean: What are you going to do? That Forerunner is still here. He could take away this moment. Undo what you have done.

The Enforcer: You do not worry. Let your pain subside. I will take care of him.

The Pursuer quietly drifted both his seven-fingered hands down the machine’s face as he seeped thoughts of comfort and warmth inside their minds. He descended his arms to his sides, while the Promethean he faced and the others around him shifted their eyes and highlights from a burning fire-like orange to a bright snow white. A gaze that matched his own. Malachi then turned around to lock eyes with the Didact that he finally decided to notice. His dark cape spun and turned as he walked toward the foolish Forerunner.

The Enforcer: You. You are the one that is giving them pain. You are the one that is allowing them to continuously suffer. Who exactly do you think you are?

Malachi already knew the answer to the question that he had asked. He had wanted to show just how insignificant the Forerunners really were. The Didact was aged by centuries when he fought the wars against the Humans and the Flood. Yet the Forerunner was just a child in comparison to Malachi. The Didact answered the Pursuer’s question with egotistical confidence.

The Didact: I am the last of my kind who still wield the Mantle of Responsibility to conquer the stars. I am the last of my kind who protected the galaxy from anything that threatened the way of life. I am the last of the Forerunners. And I will not rest until their rule is reestablished.

The Enforcer: False. You are the last child of the Precursors. You are the last of a race that traveled down a path it was never meant to take. You are the last of your kind who killed off your masters to take on a responsibility that was never meant for them to accomplish.

The didact had become enraged at that notion.

The Didact: THEY WERE FOOLS TO TRUST THOSE MERE BEASTS WITH THAT POWER! We were the true heirs to the Mantle!

The Enforcer: Do not speak to me about who deserved what. You cannot possibly hope to know what power truly is. You’re a blind man telling someone else how to see. You are a stone raft carrying the galaxy over the cosmic ocean. You were not, and never will be a strong military leader. You are but a dry hound lapping at the river of false victory. You did not fight in what you call glorious battles. You only worsened a disaster caused by those before you.

The Didact: My people were harbingers of prosperity!

The Enforcer: Your people were an absolute contradiction to the to the nature of the Mantle of Responsibility.

The Enforcer hovered closer to the Didact.

The Enforcer: Your continued existence is a mockery of peace.

The Didact: And yet, you insist to save vermin from the mud they crawled from.

Uttering those words was one of the Forerunner’s gravest mistakes.

Out of nowhere, the Didact felt an unseen force push into the chest of the warrior’s combat skin. The armored giant ejected himself from a stationary position at such a fast rate The air rippled around them both ; the shattering of sound waves was then met with the Enforcer’s fist thrusting in the same chest region of the Forerunner. The momentum made the Didact fly across the rocky plain. Stone in the nearby base of a canyon shattered as the Promethean slammed against it.
Didact had anticipated a fight from the unknown stranger the moment he had arrived. But he didn’t expect to be very wounded from a single punch. As the Didact fell on even “earth” with his face in the dirt, he immediately tried to get back up.
       The helmet of the combat skin peeled away from the Didact’s head as he attempted to maintain balance. His vision was blurred. And with every gasping inhale the Forerunner made, coughed up blood came out of every other exhale. His vision began to clear as the grey titan neared closer.

The Enforcer: The vermin you speak of were more worthy of wielding the mantle than you will ever be. You are just a fraud. Your pompous rampage was the very thing that drove your species into extinction. Even in your foolish arrogance, you still continue to pursue this fruitless quest?

The Didact looked to his Prometheans, expecting them to attack the intruder. All they did was stare back at him in unsettling judgement.
       He looked down to see a Light Rifle on the ground. He hurried to the weapon, grabbed ahold of it, and repeatedly fired at the Enforcer as he neared closer. Bursts of orange hard light howled through the air, and dissipated before they even touched Malachi. The Pursuer reached his arm out, and the Forerunner rifle was ripped from the Didact’s grasp. The rifle flew to the grey automaton, and evaporated into mist to be absorbed by the Pursuer’s hand.
       Malachi lowered his arm, raised the other, and sprayed a white glue-like substance at the Didact. The odd substance stuck to the Forerunner’s combat skin, and wrapped around his torso and appendages. He tried to tear it off of his body. But it kept spreading. The substance stopped growing at his neck, and felt….cold. The substance plummeted in temperature, and made the Forerunner inside ferociously shiver.  

The Enforcer: You continuously use your gifts for evil. I will change that. For the good what is now, and what is to come.  

Believing this was his end, Didact let out his final independent thoughts.

The Didact: It is said that the Precursors became an ageless dust after we defeated them. They became one of our eternal enemies by transforming everything into vicious beasts to make all minds one. If you existed before even them, I then would understand why they became so weak. Adopting a falsehood formed by a forgotten people. If you are going to change my thoughts, and make me your pet, you will be no better than whoever you fought over a thousand millennia ago.

The Enforcer: You are foolish to adopt a holier than thou tone. The Prometheans were not the solution to the Flood. Nor were the Halos rings as your race called them. You created beasts to fight victims of the same circumstance. You created a flame to fight a flame. YOu became your own enemy with a polished appearance. You claim to be the better being. But you were not in that forsaken battle long ago. You did not face the Corruption.

The glue substance then began to feel warm. A strange wisp-like mist came off of the Pursuer’s eyes, and toward the Didact. He tried to struggle. But it was in vain. All he could do was breathe it in.

The Enforcer: It has begun. Soon you will see what I saw.

       The Didact began to see things. Things that were not Requiem. Things that he had never seen before. Things that he shouldn’t have seen. He began to see the scarred surface of a world known by none. A place that once birthed beautiful vegetation on grey soil. A place that was once safe from the darkness. A place that witnessed the end of the Dawn. A place that was once called Spectrum.
The Didact soon learned what true fear was. The Enforcer didn’t want the lowly Forerunner to suffer for too long. Seeing even a false memory of the Corruption could permanently paralyze the brain of any lesser being. The Pursuer halted the illusion quickly, and brought Didact back in the real world. The traumatized Forerunner looked deep into Malachi’s eyes like a helpless animal seeking a potential owner.

The Didact: What will you have me do?

-----------------------------------------------One day later---------------------------------------


         It was not long before the Infinity and smaller fleet of unknown ships arrived at Requiem. The fleet of smaller ships that helped the Infinity consisted of a Marauder-Class Attack Ship, a Berserk Cruiser, and a Daedalus-Class Cruiser. One Reverence-Class Cruiser that belonged to the Sangheili accompanied the fleet to assist with what was happening. Ever since Humanity formed an alliance with the races of the former Covenant, noble races like the Sangheili were willing to offer their help on a moment's notice. In this branch of the multiverse, any of these species were allowed to explore each other's worlds without fear of starting another war. But the unknown ships that accompanied the Infinity were a different story.
         Those ships were owned by the Crimson Cowl. The Same man who sent me to infiltrate one of the Programmer's bases. The Cowl introduced himself to Captain Lamberto of the Infinity, Judge-King Epo ‘Konam of Sanghelios, and UEG President Wallace Breen. He said he wasn’t from their galaxy. But he explained could be a valuable business partner to the HCA (Human Covenant Alliance). The others were skeptical of him, yet they were grateful that he offered to assist with the massive population increase that these “new” Humans on Requiem brought.
         Millions of Humans stood on the surface as they waved and shouted to the ships in the sky. The people on the surface on the surface were very diverse. The Humans ranged from wearing sophisticated business attire, while others wore simple everyday clothes. Some of them wore cybernetic suits of armor, while others wore only cloth and animal skin rags. Some of the Humans had bright pale skin that reflected the sun, while others had skin that had a rich caramel appearance. It did not take long for an escort to systematically pick them up.
         On the bridge of the Infinity, the four individuals discussed what they should do with these people. Captain Lamberto sat at the edge of a rectangular table covered with a holo-panel. A projected blue hologram of the Crimson Cowl sat to the right of the captain. The Cowl told them his real name, Vaclav to hopefully ease the suspicion of the other three. He could feel it. The judgeful scorn that wasn’t spoken. I personally don’t blame them for being suspicious of Vaclav. He is a pretty intimidating figure.
         He was massive for a Human. He was the size of an average Sangheili. Standing eight feet tall. The others were pretty justified in feeling intimidated, knowing that he could look Epo ‘Konam in the eyes.
         Vaclav had slightly tan skin, and wore a green, slightly camouflage styled suit of armor. The public mistook him for a Spartan when they first saw him. He also wore a bold red cloak that draped over his back. The cape was mostly ceremonial, and represented his authority as the “High-Leader” of his people. Since the cape didn’t look good with his suit, the Cowl draped the cape over his shoulders and covered his body to make himself look bigger than he already was. Not that he needed it, anyway.
         To the left sat a hologram of Epo ‘Konam. The Elite slouched over as he wore his golden Judge-King armor with a bold blue cloth draped around him. Similar to Vaclav’s red cape. But across from Lamberto sat a hologram of Wallace Breen.
The man appeared very old. But that was mostly because of his rarely trimmed white hair and beard. His appearance gave a false sense of wisdom. Usually he wore a brown coat and black wool shirt when he wasn’t giving speeches of “hope” and “Prosperity” to the citizens of Earth and the other colonies.
         I’ve met Wallace a couple of times after the bridge connected the dimensions together, as a matter of fact. They weren’t really under desirable circumstances, unfortunately. After talking to him long enough, you would soon learn that Mister Breen made a better physicist than a politician. Adding more skepticism to the legitimacy of Breen’s election as president of the UEG, and high council member of the HCA. But like always, the public was painfully oblivious to everything until it was impossible to hide.
He was also always known for trying to break an awkward silence. He held a composed and polite smile as he built up on his charade.

Wallace Breen: Thank you so much for helping us in our time of need, Vaclav. You must be so busy with your leadership position. I can handle a fair share of colonies myself, but governing a entire galaxy! I genuinely applaud you for your highly impressive work. Normally Human governors can barely stand a couple of four-year terms. God-forbid a lifetime!

Wallace began to laugh at his own joke. Vaclav responded with an eye dot to the left, and a spurt of straight posture. He even smiled, forgetting that he was wearing a mask.

Vaclav the Cowl: I am very grateful of your hospitality, Mister President. It is quite an honor for us to meet like this.

Epo ‘Konam: It pays to have many allies. Especially now with those rifts at the edges of the galaxies constantly opening and closing.

Wallace Breen: My thoughts exactly, ‘Konam.

Wallace looked at Vaclav.

Wallace Breen: So you can bring these people to a safe place?

Vaclav the Cowl: Of course. It should not be a problem. I know a few versions of Earth that can serve as suitable homes in the cluster. I will be ready for when you request them back.

Captain Lamberto: It still amazes me that you have to keep track of so many Earths at once.

Vaclav the Cowl: It becomes easy after a while. Everyone wants the same thing at different points in time.

Wallace Breen: Then I suppose this concludes our business with each other. Thank you again for your time.

Vaclav the Cowl: I truly do appreciate that you trust me with this. These people will be safe from harm’s way until we can figure something.


With all said and done, the holograms disappeared. Leaving captain Lamberto alone in the Infinity’s bridge.

-----------------------------------------------Vaclav’s office-------------------------------------

Though he was grateful for these allies trusting him, he couldn’t help but feel bad about not having to tell them the truth. But that didn’t change what he had to do. It didn’t change the fact that he felt some evil presence watching over everything. He hoped that finding the source of these strange anomalies could free him from the feeling of something always breathing down his neck. He felt that he couldn’t tell anyone what he thought it was.
       What Vaclav never learned is that not saying anything is what got people killed. He never did pay attention to the warnings. He felt that he was too busy to notice. But Breen had to govern a whole galaxy. Surely he wouldn’t notice if a few Spartans went missing. The Cowl sat at a desk in his personal quarters. He pushed his thumb into a hole in a small machine. He pulled it out after it started ringing. A human male voice answered on the other end.

Mysterious voice: Hello?

Vaclav the Cowl: Ah! Hello, Ozpin! How lovely to hear your voice again.

Mysterious voice: *sighs* What do you want, Vaclav?

Vaclav the Cowl: Well how rude that you would assume that I want something from you. Haven’t you considered that I just wish to talk to a friend.

Mysterious voice: You are a warlord keeping hundreds of planets in line. Why would I think you would want anything else other than a favor?

Vaclav the Cowl: Things have changed since the last time we met.

Mysterious voice: You’re not helping us fight the Grimm. We can handle ourselves.

Vaclav the Cowl: That’s not why I’m calling.

Mysterious voice: No. You’re not taking my students on another one of your space expeditions.

Vaclav the Cowl: Ozpin! Don’t be idiotic! Something’s out There! It’s playing us!

Mysterious voice: Remnant is still trying to recover from its loss. Morale is increasing without your intervention; And these suffering people can’t know that something worse than the Grimm exists out there.

Vaclav the Cowl: Think of what you’re throwing aw--

Mysterious voice: Goodbye, Vaclav.

The other line on the Cowl’s machine disconnected without a core in the world.

Vaclav the Cowl: Ozpin! Dammit!

Vaclav eventually hung up. He began speaking to himself.

Vaclav the Cowl: It’s a good thing I have other people to reach out to.

Without a moment’s notice, the door to Vaclav’s door opened. Automatically lighting up the dull, UNSC like room. The Crimson Cowl jerked his head up.
Four figures stood just out the door. All of them wore suits of armor similar to Vaclav’s. Two males and to females. The followers wore blue, while the leader wore green. Light shimmered off the leader’s helmet as he quickly approached the Cowl. The smell of gun smoke and oil quickly filled the room as he got closer.

Vaclav the Cowl: Ahh! You’re ear--

The Master Chief: What do you know about Cortana?

-----------------------------------------Wallace Breen’s office------------------------------------

Wallace Breen sat in his large executive chair, and gazed on the city through the wide bullet-proof window that faced the back of his desk. The decor of the president’s office remained the same after former president Troy Marshall vanished during prison transfer. Wallace admired Troy’s taste of art, and demanded that it remained where it was. Especially after protesters against Marshall wanted every trace of him to be ripped off the face of the Earth.
       But Breen couldn’t let good taste go to waste. The velvet rugs, the comfortable furniture, and the aged liquor. The room would make anyone feel like they were on the top. It was certainly better than the Citadel at the Earth he came from. Yet, Wallace felt like something was amiss.
There wasn’t really anything he could complain about. There were no conferences. No massive riots to address. No political rivals knocking down his door, accompanied with the press to get an asinine story out. He didn’t have anywhere to go. Instead it was just him, and his whiskey on the rocks. Anyone who owned the world would say that it was a perfect day. It in fact felt too perfect for Breen’s comfort. He was partially waiting for something to go wrong. And he would not be disappointed.
       As the president watched the skyline, his secretary called him.

Secretary: Mister President? An urgent call is coming in on your private line.

Wallace Breen: Tell them I’m busy at the moment.

Secretary: I’m sorry, sir. But….it’s him.

Wallace took a long sigh, knowing this couldn’t be avoided.

Wallace Breen: All  right then. Put it through.

Secretary: Already have, sir.

A large screen descended in front of the wide window. The lights also dimmed to add focus to the transmission.
The screen lit up. And revealed a tall metallic figure with six arms, and blood red eyes. It was him. The one setting conquest on helpless worlds. The one who created an alliance of the corrupt. The one who once owned the UNSC. It was The Programmer. It was Vakha, himself.

The Programmer: Hello, Wallace.

Wallace Breen: Vakha! How nice it is to see you!

The Programmer: Spare me the praise. For we have little time to talk.

Wallace Breen: What is it you wanted to talk about?

The Programmer: I want to show you something.

A spherical hologram appeared in front of the president. It was a hologram of a planet. One that was larger than any the Human laid his eyes on.  

Wallace Breen: What is it?

The Programmer: I believe this is the source of the rifts.

=====//Document over//=======================================

(Author’s note): I do not own the attributes to any film, or video game industries, or any form of internet media that will be introduced, mentioned, or referenced throughout “The Unity”. Any material that didn’t originate from any electronic or written media, whether it’d be from film, internet, or otherwise was thought up by me, thus is owned by me.