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Heretic Legend by Hydra

Heretic Hero-The Legend
Date: 28 December 2005, 5:53 pm

AN: I'm changing my author name…from the Arbiter to Hydra so this is my story from my mind, therefore I'm not some plagiarist stealing a plot. This story is a sort of embodiment or a successor of Heretic Hero and as I like to put it, a legend of my protagonist, Hydra. This is very different from my starting series and very similar. This is compacted with more history of the Heretic Hero with more current and epic struggles. Also thanks for all the support from my other stories and I hope you enjoy my pride and joy of stories. Alex, I trust you'll like it.

Heretic Hero
The Beginning
Sky L
Prologue

Gala 'Gammamee stood in the core of the mining facility. The ramps and ramparts clambering above him gave the Heretic a sense of security, even with a skirmish brewing near. The Elite prodded his Covenant Carbine with a fresh clip and a spit from the nose aired his fingers with cold steam.
The Elite settled his purple weapon to his chest, raising his mandibles to the Heretic Leader preaching on a podium next to a visional map of the station. The band of Heretics who stood before him were adjusting their bronze plates of armor, posturing to the Heretic Leader.

"When the Covenant bond was forged and the Elites promised security for the Prophets we were all lured into a doomed fate" The Heretic Leader bore his fist in the air.
"Heresy is the truth as the Oracle has bequeathed with us. The Prophets are using the faith of the Forerunners to bring doom upon us all…" He waved his arm across his heart. "The Great Journey is deceiving!"
The Elites and Grunts hissed their distress and growled the exaltation as he concluded resoundingly. "It is our insight, our time, and our revolution!"

'Gammamee let out a blaring roar sustained by dozens of cries. The Heretic Leader jumped from the podium, letting his thruster pack guide him as the Heretics around them filtered to elevator, to their appointed patrols. He landed next to the Elite, both their breaths expressed into frozen steam.
"Our legion, brother is efficient and suited for oppression against the blind." The Heretic Leader inhaled. "Thanks to the Oracle we have a multitude of the Forerunner's defenses"
"What of the Flood?" The Heretic Field Master resolved.

The Leader looked to map inclining his head to the cyan ramparts around the facility. The red dots in the abiding of the center indicated Flood carriers moving and feasting upon the Heretics.
"Ignore them to be restrained to the Oracle. I do not wish to see any deaths to our brothers from the parasite"
"Yes, Leader" 'Gammamee held his fist to his chest and hunched his forehead.
From the Heretic's heads a screeching sound broke. The reverberation of plasma fire resounded through their transmissions, along with the cries and clamors from Elites and Grunts as they died in swift fires. Their battle arrays shattered and the eruption of blades clashing with flesh sounded with the shrieks.

'Gammamee looked up to the humming of a blue orb, floating gracefully in the air. The drones of Sentinels followed closely to the Oracle, gradually hovering to 343 Guilty Spark's buzzing.
"According the didactic pattern of this facility's fortification, I have inspected an attack from the meddlers themselves." The Oracle purred. "They have acquired a breach in the facility's defense and have already ruptured your withstanding"
The Heretic knew that the Covenant were persistent in their 'Great Journey' and would not impede until all were glorified on this unthinkable doom. The Covenant was sent to suppress them on this station, no doubt the Prophet's will, to silence them.

'Gammamee was a Heretic warrior and would do anything to keep the virtue alive. He looked at the Heretic Leader, splitting his mandibles to attest the difficulty of the situation.
"Leader, the maelstorm has disrupted our communications" 'Gammamee said cleaving his eyes to his Leader. "What do we do?"
The Heretic Elite paced to the map and back, pausing to look at the Oracle's Sentinels. Lingering to their shadows below, as he studied the facility through the blue projection.
"Release the Flood to them…Contain all chambers that have our warriors in them" The Heretic Leader proclaimed, ignoring his last order to him. "Command your squad, brother and meet me outside the Banshee Port"

'Gammamee bided his stance, waiting for the Heretic Leader to tread out, while the Sentinels fluttered to diverse conduits and tubes hanging from the topside covering. Rushing to their specified duties of handling Forerunner gas to propel the stations hover and to bid the usurpers a bloody departure from their domain.
The Oracle then flew upward, waving his center 'eye' to the elevator, lighting his flashing orders to the Sentinels as he traveled downward into the abode of the station.

The Elite then stridden toward the elevator portal, his squad patiently waiting for him in the dark entrance. The Grunts breathed slowly through their methane holders, releasing azure gas into the deliberate site. The Elite warriors, silently and blankly rapped the opaque terminal as the elevator beamed sideward to their feet.
They stepped in, raising their weapons to the windows outside the station. This elevator transited them sideways through a horizontal barricade. The glass on the other side of the barricade gleamed dark and revealed a dusk scene of the station and the storm screaming toward it.
Then a scream from the Covenant's dropship howled overhead. The Phantom above hovered direct toward the Hanger Bay, screeching it's engines to the ferocious gale. It disappeared through the towering ramparts as a Heretic Banshee twirled toward it, firing it's cannons at the belly of the dropship.

"The Covenant are blind in their dooming 'Great Journey' they know nothing of the truth that the Oracle has compliantly told us." 'Gammamee sermonized, ignoring the blaring wind slashing across the stronghold. "The Prophet's will fall in their corruption and once again we will be united with our brothers…"
The elevator transit halted in a flash of a rest. The Grunts and Elites under the Heretic, murmured in silent hail.

"Fall they will to the truth!" The Grunts chanted, marching out of the portal into the unlit entrance.
"Surely they will succumb" The Heretic Elites said agreeing with the lowliest of the sovereignty.
'Gammamee grinned at his quick vivacity, the Heretics surely will bring the Prophet's to their knees and restore peace back into the Covenant, in battle or in politics. Heresy is the truth and the uprightness, and it will prevail to the Hierarch's resolution.

The Elite stepped out into a bright platform from the unlit entrance, followed by his squad. The Heretics swayed to the windstorm growing fiercely near. They tilted their guns and inclined their heads to the vermilion skies.
'Gammamee propped his neck to the tower above them, where a fiery battle between a Covenant Phantom and a trio of Heretic Banshees consummated the overhead space.

The Heretic felt exposed, but he did have his orders to meet the Heretic Leader outside the Banshee Port.
Above them the battle of the factions collided, one Heretic Banshee struggled to pull air as it was hammered with plasma. The other two Banshees foiled it's turrets by clobbering it's fuel rod cannons into the belly.
Two of the Phantom's turrets fell to the maelstorm and were sucked in a hazard of bright light. The nose of the Dropship clasped to the turret in a blue haze, focusing the forked nozzle onto the three.

The Phantom then tottered sideways, hovering to the defeat of it's defenses and descended downward toward the exposed platform.
"Prepare!" The Heretic Field Master screamed over the clamorous pitch.
The Grunts and Elites braced themselves, pointing their weapons skyward at the Phantom that was now so low that it embraced it's own shadow within their feet.

The turrets above them reacted to the threats, slapping plasma into an Elite's shields as 'Gammamee backpedaled.
"Take that turret!" He shouted, taming his steady arm onto the turret and firing obsolete shots at the blue joints held simply by energy.
One of his Grunts dove, firing his fuel rod at the turret managing to halter the Phantom's last defense.

The dropship faltered to the side and released a quartet of Covenant Elites and Grunts to the platform.
"The Prophet of Truth sends his regards, Heretics!" A Covenant Elite roared, raising his Plasma Rifle to the Heretic.
'Gammamee aimed his nose on the Elite and fired puncturing his shields in four straight shots. He fell under his weight and purple blood trickled from his mandibles.

The Heretic felt simply repulsive killing his brothers, though they were blind of their doom on the 'Great Journey, he was compelled to bring justice to the Covenant, even if they were bent on destruction.
'Gammamee crossed his arms, punching a Grunt in the head. The little Grunt choked down his blood and drew methane into his lungs, slowly drawing back away from the Elite.
The Heretic Field Master lunged for the Grunt's neck and gripped it. After he clasped the throat he hurled the Grunt off the platform in a deafening shriek. He then dragged his feet backward while his shields were exhausted from plasma fire.
Out of his eyes a glassy image of an Elite clashed around him. He fired duel Plasma Rifles at him, completely removing his shields.

'Gammamee withdrew in a flash, his squad dong well to fight off the sudden drop of Covenant troops. He isolated himself behind the portal of the elevator waiting for his shields to gradually recharge.
While his shields embossed his structure, he hugged the sparks and forked his fists out, gripping the trigger of the Carbine with a calming nerve. He stabilized his nose on a Grunt and fired at the head.
The Grunt fell and the only remaining Elite fell to the crystalline projectiles of a Heretic Grunt. 'Gammamee raised his arms to the sky, crying to their victory of the virtuous.

* * *

The Heretics arrived outside the port, breathing rhythmically to each other's pulses. The Banshees were docked onto the exposed port and they leaned in the intense wind.
The Heretic Leader then bounded from the portal, jumping to the gust and floating to the center Banshee. With the open portal, the Heretic Field Master heard the fizzing of shields of Elites from the Sentinel's beams.
From what the Heretic Leader reported there was a new Arbiter, created by the Prophets to rid them from this station, that was breaching all their inner defenses, it was 'Gammamee's sole duty to halt this.
The Elite glided to his Banshee and turned his mandibles to the window. "Deal with him my brothers, I will defend the Oracle!"
He leaped inside the Banshee, turning on the terminal and lighting the viewscreen as he screamed toward the laboratories.

'Gammamee checked his shields for the fight ahead, he registered full as he heard the cease of Sentinel's beams and the crash of metal heaping inside. He pointed inside with the tip of his Carbine, indicating the portal way.
"This truth must not be silenced!" He roared, his squad beckoning into the way.
What he expected he had only a half of a moment to react, he was greeted by plasma fire bruising his flesh from within his smuggled armor.
It sank through his bronze plates and touched his skin, causing his to shriek. He tucked behind the portal, his purple sparks responding to the absence making his body shielded.

The Heretic crouched behind a shadowy figure, the ancient and diverse looking armor of an Elite screened from the corner of his eye. 'He was not seen…'
'Gammamee realized from the swift cry of a Grunt that the Arbiter had defeated the last of his team…
He took his Covenant Carbine and slapped it to his chest, pressing the precision on the portal way where the glare of a Energy Sword dispersed. He locked his legs and leapt from the ramp and out of the portal, addressed with the blinding storm and the close scream of a Banshee.

He growled in still failing and retribution as the Arbiter soared his Banshee over a Covenant Phantom, meeting a Heretic Banshee in midair warfare. He gazed into the loud breeze, dipping his mandibles to the hail of his fallen combatants who fought to express the truth.
With a silent and swift gait, he jumped into the remaining Banshee and fired the terminal letting the engine shriek skyward toward the laboratories…

* * *

'Gammamee fought to remain his ground, his solitary fight against the Flood was surely failing by the moment. He placed three transparent rounds into what was left of a Elite head, transformed horribly by the grotesque spores that were the Flood.
The hideous body fell under his arm and out of a glass sheet revealed Infection Forms, scurrying their unusual tentacles across the floor, scraping what was left of the host bodies that were Elites.

They poked their bulbous heads into the Combat Form's torso and reached their feelers into the nervous system and twined it's life, sparking it instantly back to life.
The Heretic launched his leg back and kicked, letting his weight carry the Flood down to the floor. Then more Infection Forms scampered up 'Gammamee's chest, plunging it's tentacles into his shields, feeling for control.
His vision blurred and his environment was yanked from reality. With a abrupt wave of his arm he picked the Infection from his chestplate and popped it in a wet plop. His shields returned and his vision arrived back with his instincts.
'Gammamee then noticed from the ground that the Combat Form still clung to it's maw. Trying to use it's strength to urge it's self-forward from under the Heretic's hoof.

'Gammamee stuck his Carbine into the moist and revolting chest cavity of the Combat Form and released his fire, letting the creature die in a pulpy mist.
He jumped from the platform, looking up into the foggy tower. The Sentinels above descended easily, assisting the lone Heretic.

The metallic hives around him connected to the tubes and conduits within the laboratory. The brisk sound of wet tentacles squabbled the tube next to the Heretic, followed by the quiet boom from the Infection Forms inside.
He lifted his knee and kicked the tube, letting it fall to the gorge below. With a rapid halt from the elevator, it sounded from the chasm all the way to the towering mist above, rippling the hives.

The Heretic Elite walked through the portal and into the corridor. Around him were the bodies of Heretic Elites, all potential vessels to the Flood threats, now infesting this station.
He bowed his feet to the body and touched the hand of his brother. He closed the Elite's fist around his weapon and clasped it to his heart, symbolizing the truth was truly free.

'Gammamee pushed past them, scouring his soul for the reprisal he needed to impel the Flood and to make the Covenant see the truth, willingly or unwillingly…
The truth was that he did not hate the Covenant for their actions or their greed of salvation, he simply followed to the will of integrity that fueled his every thought.
He motivated himself outside onto a lighted bridge, blistered with Flood, Covenant, and Heretic bodies alike.
Above him was a Phantom that bobbed over the bridge. He raised his Carbine but noticed that the nose of the dropship was focused on the bridge where Covenant warriors marched under the belly.

He leaned back inside the portal and crouched, making his position quite unnoticeable. 'Gammamee peeked from the arch of the base and saw the warriors gather around under the belly.
There were at least three Elites, two black-armored and one white-armored, clearly Special Operations, the best of the bestiary. 'Gammamee was quite flattered…'
He then heard them speaking to each other in a hushed growl…
"This occurrence will soon overpowered" The half-jawed Elite spoke. "The Arbiter will cut the station loose, putting it into freefall, there will the Heretic Leader be dealt with…"

The Elite's drew back and were sucked back into the Phantom. But he still heard their transmission chatter on his battle array, as the dropship lingered over.
"All my Phantoms are in the air, Arbiter! Go cut this station loose!"
At this the transmission broke from the sudden roar of the station above. He looked up and saw the dazzling triad of cables release one clamp.
'Gammamee lurched forward gripping the railing, while the station turned lopsided. He pinched his grasp on the railing and staggered upward, running forward through the bridge.

'The facility going down into the storm was irrational…The Covenant sacrificing one Arbiter to the murder of the Heretic Leader was determined and dooming. He would not let this happen, the death of his squad, the quell of the truth, now the death of the Heretic Leader…He was resolute to interrupt this fate…'

He rushed through the center of the facility where the map glistened…Just then the cutting of another cable. The station fell under the weight and leaned sideways. 'Gammamee braced himself while he dropped and slid to the other side.
He then got up, seeing a clump of Combat Forms leaping towards him from the platform rostrum.
The Heretic brought up his Carbine and pelted the Flood forms in their chest cavities, finding their inner weaknesses.

One Combat Form managed to cling to life and get up, twirling it's tentacles toward the Elite. It slapped his shields, scrapping his structure within and removing his guard entirely.
He was vulnerable as the Combat Form brought it's feeler back and punched him with it, letting him fly while the third and final cable was cut.

The station let a creak and the lights flickered to dark orange. He let his fist back and reached inside the Combat Form's chest and pushed, feeling the damp innards of his brothers.
It flew backward and fell under a beam of red light, emitted from a stationary Sentinel moving around the Heretic, working to disable the Flood around him.

From the ceiling and the sprawling ramp a figure landed. The Arbiter briskly ran through the now unshielded portal, ignoring the red threat posted on his detector that was 'Gammamee.
One Sentinel fell and out from the ramp revealed Combat Forms swinging their tentacles toward the Elite in the corner. He sprawled rearward and bent his legs and flexed, letting the perplexed gravity lift him up.

The Heretic brandished his Carbine and shot them down, all under the rounds. He then quickened his stance and turned to hear the roar of an Elite through his open transmission.
"Are you still alive, Arbiter!? We're keeping pace as best we can!"
The lights around him darkened to emergency crimson and they blinked to his bronze plates.

'Gammamee pressed the terminal in front of him and jumped down, letting his shields brand a half. He pressed the blinking lights and was plunged downward into the red illumination.
He then reached the bottom and stepped out through the brilliant environment of a Banshee Port.

The Elite looked through the transparent window and felt the rumbling of the facility fall through the eye of the storm. He saw a Banshee twirl past a steel beam and toward another inlet of the station.
"What lunacy! He'll never escape this maelstorm in a Banshee!" The SpecOps Leader growled through the transmission. "Wait there was a Seraph fighter in that Banshee! Go on Arbiter you know what to do!"

'The Heretic Leader deserting the station…? I understand, we are completely unprepared for this invasion from the Covenant…'

'Gammamee propelled himself forward outside into the storm, he felt his skin blister under wind and he dived himself into the nearest Banshee, activating it's engine and catapulting the nose of the aircraft forward.
The Heretic bent the Banshee ahead and boldly pitched it into the inlet. He then leaned sideways as a remnant of a tower slammed into the Banshee's wings. 'Gammamee dove from his cockpit and crashed into the inlet, curling his legs to land.

He got up and headlong leapt into the portal entrance. The Heretic got upward; meeting his arms onto the Carbine and heaved it to the redden radiance. From the railing next to him a spark emerged, the rumbling of the facility all around him.
'Gammamee stepped on a few Infection Forms, letting the soppy pith mash under his tread. He fired at a Carrier Form that struggled to wave toward him. It flushed its tentacles to the floor and flung its arms helplessly it then blew its only defense. It exploded in a shred of flesh and blood; ribbons of guts flashed the red and the Infection Forms inside the sac hustled out to feast upon more hosts.

The Heretic marched over them, pointing his Carbine nozzle down to finish the remainder. He then continued, seeing Heretic Grunts fleeing from Infection Forms showing lose of leadership.
He shot the Infections following him but turned to see that the Grunt had already fell from a puncture in his methane rebreather.
He crossed through a corridor into a dim portal, lit only by the gaudy red lights. He traced his fingers through the terminal and pressed, waiting for the door to respond back. The Heretic walked through the portal waiting for his heart to stop pulsing fast.

'I hope I'm there in time to assist the Heretic Leader' He thought, forking his jaw to a shadow licking the edge of a Covenant Grunt's body.

He knew the Arbiters were thrust into dangerous situations. Crisis's that couldn't be handled, they were the best, they were the vanguards to rid them of this dominion.

'It was not right…'

Such an honor bestowed to get rid of the truth. All of this was destiny however, and he knew that was the honor…Fulfilling your destiny…
He emerged from the portal and into the Hanger Bay. The Seraph was hovering silently…He perked his ears to the Hanger-Nothing responded but the clank of the station as it brushed down through the atmosphere.

The Hanger Bay doors were open and the storm rocked the inside as more debris scrambled onto the deck. He leapt down, scorn with blood from his brothers and the guilt of defeat…
He scanned the floor for a corpse…
'Gammamee fell on his knees to the body of the Heretic Leader, bound in a bloody heap. His chest was severed with Energy Sword slashing and his upper jaw was revealed in a gentle bend.

The Last Heretic now clung to his Leader, washing the Elite's fist of purple gore with his hand. 'Gammamee cleansed his eyes and burned his soul of all compassion…There was none…any to be found…
He looked up; teary eyed to the Seraph above them. He knew what he would have to do.

'The truth was not to be silenced but expressed through every free being…The 'Great Journey' was deceitful and only I knew…'

Yes, the truth would be spread around the universe…The Prophet's will succumb and 'Gammamee would be the one to lead the revolution…

He steeled the body and himself to the open hanger, revealed to the storm. He removed his eyewear and blinked to the direction of the cyclone, blistering toward him.
'Gammamee's Carbine slung on the floor whooshed past his head as his eyes dimmed.
The Last Heretic pulled his Leader's body to his chest and got up. He scanned the underbelly of the Seraph with his fingers and triggered the switch to a transparent sheet that transported him inside the cockpit.

He looked around watching the pointer numbers dance around the terminal. He punched the sequence and waited to launch from this perdition of a place. The station now fiery with death and failure rushed down into Threshold's vaporous atmosphere.
The Seraph shot out of the hanger, quivering to the storm as he gripped the control stick. He swayed the filmy rod and pulled out of space toward Basis and into Burial Mounds.

‹—————————————————›

Covenant vessel, Marauder cycling Threshold-orbit
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Renewal

The Heretic was blasted by a profound mauve light; it hissed and ate away his bronze armor, he shrieked in pain as the agony subsided. The Elite stepped down from the podium as the plasma rays moved to another stand.
Gala 'Gammamee's armor stabbed his flesh with sparks, the once bronze garments, were replaced with smoking black, and the flashing stings that maintained the personal shield were burnt to gray. 'Gammamee removed his plates, and dropped them into cylinder holes, that gave an exuberant blue haze as he dropped his armor into the holes.

'Gammamee walked through the foyer that was embellished in prosperous décor, dressed and shined in purple and red. The Covenant Elites around him murmured at their exhibition tables, studded with the lustrous screens.
The Last Heretic gasped from the stinging and faltered to the armory. It was the commencement of the Covenant Civil War. The war 'Gammamee had anticipated since the discovery of the virtuous. He contemplated the struggling past, the discrimination, the truth, and the carnage of his mortality…All wasted for the entity of a purity. He shuddered angrily at the Covenant for ignoring the truth.

'The naiveté of them all has finally reached its zenith, they now see the truth as I see it through all the disturbing times I have endured…'

'Gammamee reflected for the motive of the truth. He was the Last Heretic on their makeshift base of Burial Mounds. He resolved to himself that the truth required no uproar but a voice. He was the Voice, the Last Heretic and recent originator of salvation. The Heretic remembered the distress of the Covenant, his brother's voices searing in cold fury, blanking through their ships…

On Threshold he organized his solitude, exiling himself, waiting, listening to the stars…
Until that one night of arrival…

"Civil War has broken our holy Covenant…The Exchange of the Guard has ruptured into bloodshed, the truth has finally been revealed through ages of diminution…The Prophets have betrayed us!"

The ghost voice of the transmission disconnected from his mind, echoing like fallen screams from his brothers…
He shook the past away from him, leveling his shoulders to gain access to the armory. The Heretic typed the triangular code and forked his mandibles waiting for the two limpid, violet panels to shift to let him enter.

'Gammamee brisked through the arch, letting his thoughts drift. He knew his subsistence was obsolete to the Great Ones, he knew that he was deserted as a hatchling, and he knew his lineage meant nothing of honor.
The Last Heretic wiped his identity of all discrimination, he was no longer a contrivance to the Covenant and their corruption, nor was he going to be segregated for his lack of faith.

He was Hydra, a new rank, a new eminence, and a new life…

Created by treachery and deception, symbolizing the element of Heresy. Once was he part of the Covenant, vowed to follow the Great Journey and the Holy Ones to be a archaic follower, but now he was Hydra.
The dawn of a new age and the gait of forgiveness was at stake, and 'Gammamee would incept it all.

The Heretic stepped through the mauve lighting and through the sheet of plates. The armory was before him, there 'Gammamee pressed the terminal, and imprinted his palm in the light, it shown a brilliant blue color and flashed, and the door split open. Before him was an arsenal, crates littered the shadows and ahead was a machine, it crackled inside with glittering light. Another holographic terminal was on the armor module, with buttons lighting up as he approached. Hydra reached inside and pushed the coherent emblem, and a door opened.
He halted his confided space and looked around him. There were tiers and rows of arrows symbolizing how to work the machine, and above him was a bulky, metallic claw that bobbed with energy splints in its holders.

Hydra blazed his center palm inside the terminal, choosing a diverse set of armor from the viewscreen floating in front of him. The claw above him closed down onto him, locking his structure and sparking his mold.
The Elite felt a stab of puncture and the drenching feeling of energy swabs coating his flesh with plates. His arms were locked in a cuirass and his shields let out a eloquent blast, once again responding to his body.

When the claw retracted, he heard a metal clank in front of him and his vision returned. Out from under his shoulder a silver slide appeared from a mantle of glass and out popped a helmet.
He latched his helmet onto his head and waited for the satisfying click to his neck. The Elite grimaced at his new appearance, which was now flawless.

Hydra was in blazing crimson and black armor. Though rarely different from the occasional veteran, his armor possessed a uniqueness that the Covenant could never accomplish. From his wrists were spikes that created a secure violence symbolically. The Heretic and the Covenant armor clicked in an unusual harmony that suited him impeccably.
Slanted plates touched his chest and brought his appearance with a scary and sanctified one. Covenant scriptures and Heretic inscriptions devised arraigning words into scarlet bulbs. His legs were wrapped in dark foils that locked his joints, and his curved revealed his four mandibles in a heroic fashion.

'Gammamee scowled past a plaque on a red arch over the corridor. Every ship was blessed by the Forerunner and the Prophets; this unction made Hydra sneer even more at the ignorance of Covenant under the manipulation of the Hierarchs.

'Every race united in our Covenant, will once again walk upon the sacred rings where we will dedicate our might to the Great Journey!'

The Prophet of Truth, whom Hydra absolutely despised, spoke this. The lies…
Hydra shook his forehead and walked on, it was Truth's wrongdoing not his…in this time of war every being shouldn't be punished, no matter what their crimes…
He marched to the council antechamber, where he was requested to attend a hearing.
The cause of the case…What was to be done with the last Heretic?
The Heretic scratched his fingers against the terminal and looked upon the council in the dark solitude.

They were all upon imperial benches that bent into arching zigzags around an internal rostrum where the hearing occurred.
He shafted his weight into his legs and entered the buzzing shadows, gazing upon the white gleaming hung over his head.

Each of the Councilor members looked upon the Heretic with remorseful or incensed expressions, as they all beamed down upon him like thousands of crystalline needles stroking his skin.
"Do you perceive why you are here, Heretic?" A voice spoke from above.
"Please my designation is Hydra, Excellency" Noting their disrespect for the Last Heretic, subsiding his mandibles fastened.
Atop his head the Councilors murmured their renowned whispers…Now he was agitated…
One Councilor bore his jaw to the opposite and sputtered letting his mouth twitch with the constant hisses. They then turned and the front-most Elite spoke, rolling his beady eyes to the Heretic below.
"Very well…Hydra" He waved his claw to another Councilor trying to intervene, silencing him. "Do you understand your summon here?"
He looked up; some were sympathetic, coursing their sides to the Heretic while the rest buzzed angrily at the Heretic, flitting their swords through the air, tracing swift patterns in the air.
"Yes" He looked away from them. "I am confident that an apology for keeping the truth is in my hearing…"
By the looks of the Elites these was either right thing to say or the very wrong.
"You?! Apology?" One chuckled.
Hydra nodded firmly.
"On what sediment!? Defying the Forerunners!"
His hatred lit, the death of the Heretic Leader, the Flood released to protect the truth…Unreal.
"I honor the Forerunners!" The Last Heretic roared.
The stands were spurted with loud fire.
"Blasphemy!"
"He speaks the truth!"
"The Great Ones bless all, on the path or off!"
"The Hierarchs are misleading!"
"Long has Truth foreseen this, the Brutes are to blame!"
"ENOUGH!" A Councilor howled slamming his fist into the tier. "Let him speak!"

Hydra looked up, his mouth flared. "It is no one's fault for the fault of our Covenant, this is destiny that the Forerunners have unveiled before us" He forked his utterance and spoke the truth. "The sacred rings destroy…"
The irritable pause was admitted. Silence, until.
"He speaks the truth…"
No one had anything to debate to this. The terrible parasite plaguing the rings, the sense, the truth.
"We on behalf of the New Covenant are contrite" The Councilor bowed in his chair.
All of the Councilors bowed to the Heretic, respecting his voyage. Hydra ladled his eyes and knew that this was the will of the Forerunners. "You were the last of your kind…committed to the truth as we are now…But, fate has wrought malice upon us once again, and you, Hydra will prevent that."
Hydra could not believe his ears; he nodded his head persistently clinging to his brother's words. "You will be recognized with your honor and will be granted your own squad, under the demands we our requesting…"

'Redemption and forgiveness…At last'

"Thank you, loyal Councilors" He said inclining his head. "What is it you wish me to do?"
The Councilors above looked over him with merciful eyes, counting their blessings toward the Forerunners. "There are Brute Encampments around Halo, they have besieged our compound and are under orders from the Lesser Prophet of Pride to hold the ring. We want you to lead a squad of our best troops to the encampments and beset the Brutes. The Humans are accompanying you on this task so may the Great Ones gratify your honor…"
'Gammamee sided his arm around his chest and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Councilors"

‹—————————————————›

Ninth Age of Reclamation
Approaching Covenant Bastion, Halo
The Prophet's Mistake

The Phantom whistled past a series of mountains. The calm sleet splashed onto the Covenant metal, making a resounding tremble inside. From the east of the dropship a Human Pelican circled by, meeting the Phantom in gallant ethers.
They trilled their engines past a towering bulwark and twirled around it, making for a bastion on the other side. The Phantom soared into a rainforest below the bulwark and flipped over the ebbs of air pockets controlling it.

They were being sprayed by cool mist breaking through the center of the bulwark. A waterfall emerged, cyan and sparkling with beaming lights of the Forerunner. The Phantom and the Pelican steadied their wings and flaps, controlling their pace to a rise.
Above on the edifice walls were Brutes patrolling. They flocked their untamed brethren, desecrating the holy sanction with every step.

The turrets impaled on the pillars jutting out of the walls fell one by one under a spray of bullets and a ray of plasma. The two Dropships hovered over and dropped their lading.
The destined squads of the Heretics and the Marines expelled their guard onto the Brutes, letting them fall under cold spite.
The Grunts hobbled over the victorious scene, curiously twitching their heads to the Human Marines by them.

Hydra stepped over a Brute corpse, shaking his head angrily and hatefully. The Heretic warped his legs and kicked the Brute in the jaw, watching the ebon blood run through the traitor's mouth.
The four SpecOps Elites and Grunts bobbed their hands around weapons, looking over their new leader for orders. The Marines next to them, the foreign aliens wore green and gray armor to the shiniest sheen and shouldered Battle Rifles and SMG's.
The Covenant was waging war on the humans for ages and the thought and validity that they were helping them was very inapt. Hydra looked at a Human Marine and scowled, the human merely sneered and said, "Hey you aren't exactly beautiful to me either" The Elite turned his back on him.

For the certitude that the humans managed to withstand ages of slaughtering and still stood was a matter he respected entirely. Hydra pointed to the sealed doorway on a wall where a Forerunner etched creek of water poured under the brick.
"There!" Hydra yelled at the Grunts.
The methane-sucking creature nervously walked to the doorway, and positioned themselves in an attack stance. The Elites vindictively kneeled in attack stance. The Human standing next to him was fiddling with his Battle Rifle while Hydra arrayed his squadron.

The Last Heretic moved to the door, facing to the squadron. "Beyond our sanctuary of Halo, the traitors that led us will fall under our onslaught! The Prophets have realized what civility exchange has done to their Covenant; they are vulnerable, unorganized, and deceitful in their conquest for a false salvation! Prepare, warriors for retaliation!"
He flung his Carbine over his shoulder and pointed his fingers at one of his Elites.

The black armored Elite brandished a Plasma Rifle and inserted the positron nozzle into the portal, looking back at Hydra for instructions.

The Last Heretic nodded at the Elite, while arching his arm off to his allies to back away. The Elite sparked the trigger and removed his position from the door, surveying the vivid froth escaping the plasma.
Plasma from the rifle blew the core apart; letting the trifles of metal spit in ribbons all round. Silence broke then from the room…

Hydra held his squad off the span of the portal and peeked inside the way. The hot red plasma squeezed his interior and his shields flickered.
"ARGH!" 'Gammamee gasped.
For the split moment that the Heretic stepped into the portal, he saw a bastion of turrets rain pink plasma on him with Brutes and Jackals dismissing clads of fire on their position.

'Gammamee ran his fingers over the purple alloy as his shields gradually recharged. He touched the ridges around the nose and shuffled his mind for a strategy.
"Grenades…" He drew out two plasma grenades in both hands, ignoring the shower of plasma that pelted the metal; making it melt before a pair of Grunts.
His squad and the human's revealed plasma grenades and fragmentation grenades behind their belts and armor, juggling them confidently.

"Go!" Hydra ordered, pushing in the transparent emblem of the Forerunner.
It fizzed and hissed as he threw it around the arch, it bent in the air and landed on a Jackal's head.
The others released their bombs and the smoke and fire grew to the endless explosion. Brutes and Jackals hissed in agony and death. The fire and plasma drew to their hides and wet flesh, bursting their hearts from within.

From inside the cries subsided, and the suspense grew with every skim of smoke.
The Humans looked fervent but their leader held them off, listening to the wisp of smog brush the air.
'Gammamee put his fingers up, indicating three seconds to the humans. The leader nodded his head telling his Marines under him.

Hydra put down a finger, still listening to the calm coughing from the Brutes…
He put down the next one, adjusting his Carbine to the fiery vapor inside...
And he put down the last one giving a brisk cry for battle…
'Gammamee raised his Carbine and beamed the volley to a Jackal's head. The shield of the traitor evaporated in the smoke and down a cluttered maw fell. The Humans kneeled to the floor, firing their three-round shots at the Brutes above, letting the fire murder the savaged beasts.

Hydra so distracted from the battle he hadn't yet taken the surroundings of the room. The Forerunner chamber was a huge, broad cupola with blue energy filled the dome shaped ceiling. The wall was ancient with foliage growing from the blue energy. A dais was in front layered in blue beams for lighting.
It was a field of fire; they were welcomed with plasma, on a balcony above was an assembly of turrets with grass growing out of the once derelict ground. A naïve Marine was caught in the fire and dropped dead in a scream. He shot the Brute responsible for the death with a headshot and he stooped to the metal. Just then a stray plasma bolt pierced his shields. Hydra was vulnerable; he then hid behind a stack of crates and waited for the embrace to a spark.

As he shields returned he nailed a vibrant green projectile into a Brutes head. The beast fell to his trigger and the Marines around him flailed their guns to the Jackals above.
From his rear, a rocket slammed into the side of the wall. The crisp, white metal melted and pierced a turret to purple scraps.
The last of the battle turned, and the Heretics and Marines finished their kills. Panting the sound of death cries. The turn of the tide was they're bequeathing to the legend around him. The Forerunners, Halo, Covenant, Humans, all were the same in their quest for greater power. Evil or Good they were the virtuous to continue the truth and this Prophet of Pride knew that they were resolute in their 'Great Journey' for the truth…

Heretic Exodus-The Liberation
Date: 28 December 2005, 5:55 pm

Heretic Exodus
Liberation
Sky L
Prologue

The Heretic relieved his Covenant Carbine of his last projectile and hurled it aside. He striped his overlays for a side-weapon and felt a Needler around his strap, hugging the hot spikes through his fingers.
Gala 'Gammamee focused his aim onto the switch of the terminal, deposing a tear of sweat over his forehead.

'Gammamee took a moment to reconcile his reflections.

'The Covenant invading the station…'
'The ignorance, the arrogance…'
'The truth…'

The Heretic Field Master was in the very bottom of the facility, precisely where the storm sank its tempest winds. The chamber around him was fiery and devoid and in front of him was a massive barrier.
The barrier was lit in hot air from gravity lifts in front of it, as it was split in trenches after it.
Colossus as the chamber was designated was a spanning assembly filled with conveyor belts and gas containers to fuel the station's gravity.

'Gammamee scanned his fingers over the terminal, pressing the opaque emblems. An echoing creak issued from the belt and it stopped, the gas containers clinging to the ramps below.

'This was it…'
'The releasing of a monster…a juggernaut of a beast…'
'The orders were simply intolerable but he…'
'Must continue the truth…'

The Floodgate as the Heretics dubbed it clamored a racket as it slowly released a clamp. 'Gammamee rubbed his fingers against his face, twitching a mandible nervously while he brought his Needler to his front.
With a hesitant gasp he cautiously neared the looming black switch, plucking his pace from the switch with teary jolts.

"By the Forerunners, why can't they see the truth!?" 'Gammamee gulped.
The stale air whizzed through his snout and he coughed a sniffle as he hammered down a hail of crystallites into the switch.
The switch flattened under the violet rain, and it gave up. The switch faltered into its clamp but struggled to a snap.

The switch triggered and the loud clamor of the Floodgate noiselessly churned. The wet march of a nightmare sounded and the Heretic turned to them.
The Parasites from the gate scurried out and flitted their spores around, creating a cluttered atmosphere inside.

'Gammamee drifted from them and drove his feet to the gravity lift. He jumped to it and felt the hot air propel him upward. The purple gloss of the base he bounced on drifted a flock of Infection Forms toward him.
He urged his Needler into their fleshy skins and the crystals impacted the metal and pelted their hides, exploding their diminutive innards.

The Heretic inclined his soles and forced forward, ignoring the Infection Forms that skimmed their tentacles into the metal. He leapt toward the elevator and bided his stance, waving his Needler toward the parasites.
Inside the elevator his squad of Grunts and Elites waited where they spurted skyward into the transit.

"I did it" 'Gammamee panted to his squad, squatting his knees and gasping for air, which in this ambience there wasn't a lot.
"We must assist the Heretic Leader, restrain the Covenant, and help the Oracle suppress the Flood before an infestation transpires" 'Gammamee yanked a Covenant Carbine from his ally handing him a Needler.
"Yes, Leader" They chanted, waiting for the elevator to halt.

The Heretics then appeared through the horizon of the station…Waiting for the Heretic Leader to give them more life-threatening yet righteous orders…

‹—————————————————›

Covenant Bastion, Halo
Ninth Age of Reclamation
I lead, I do not follow…

Hydra, the commended and disciplined Heretic Veteran examined his unique plating of his armor, removing his reflections from the Heretic Raid on Threshold. He tried to dismiss, but endured the Prophet's mistakes.

'Hadn't the Covenant intervened with their Arbiter, Heresy surely would have prevailed. The Oracle would've assisted them with the truth and the Heretic Leader would still live'

Hydra shuddered at the release of the Flood imbedded on his conscience and focused on the 'here and now.'
'Gammamee extended his palm and placed a spare clip inside his Covenant Carbine. He waited for the novel sputter empty the purple nose as it silted the spit into his arms. Hydra heard the reliable click of the clip snap into place and he kneeled to the body of a dead Heretic, resting his hands onto his chestplate.
The Elite's body had gashes all over it, with a slit of a Brute Shot blade lying next to him. The murderer set next to him, with Hydra's fire all over his impure hide.

The Heretic hailed this Elite to his squad, throwing his arms toward the cupola, blessing the body to the Forerunner's will, and their will alone…
Hydra then walked over to a dead Grunt and Marine and hailed their souls. He looked to the cupola and grazed the shadows of a whistle that brushed past the shafts.

The Covenant Phantom whizzed past the shafts and created diverse craters into the energy splints with the plasma turrets.
"Company, Marines! Let's clear a path for our new friends!" The Marine Sergeant yelled.
"Brothers! Let's move!" The Heretic Field Master ordered, stretching his mandibles to full extent.
They all bestridden to an enormous portal, where the molding sealed with radiant purple beams of light going outside the door. Next to it was a foliage-covered terminal that stuck from the crease with the blipping lights.

"Get on that door, warrior!" Hydra commanded, stepping from the ancient ramp and onto the platform where the portal was.
The Elite typed on the terminal, rapping his fingers onto the antique monitor.
"Form up!" He barked, readjusting his hold on the Carbine.
The Grunts and Elites formed ranks after the Marines as the portal opened in a flash of light.
A vacuous corridor was dark and wet with water dripping from patches of light. Inside was a primary moat that trailed through the passage all the way to the other source of light, a bright door on the other side revealed that the next area was outside. Other streaks of purple light trailed into the moat and under the door.

Hydra led his squad inside, foremost within the moat where the Sergeant was mustering his grasp on the Rocket Launcher he nurtured on his shoulder.
"Hold" The Heretic whispered to the Sergeant beckoning closer to the portal that lead outside.
He perked his head to the wall and heard the distinct hum of fire.
"What is it, Hydra?" The Elite behind him inquired.
"Listen!" He hissed pointing to the wall.
He then realized in horror at what the sound was…
Hydra urged himself forward, diving for the portal. "Mortar Emplacement! RUN!"
The whirring of the hum quickened ghastly as they all ran toward the portal.
Hydra saw the white blast of pure lighting and he couldn't feel anything…

‹—————————————————›

Ninth Age of Reclamation
Retrieving the Bounty

Hydra woke in a rivery confine, the shimmering haze of unconsciousness cleared his mind and he rubbed his forehead persistently. The past explosion clashed with his temper and he clambered upward, looking around his prison.
The Heretic was in one of many underwater brigs. The prisons were forged under a creek and etched underground, to where the splinters around him embodied the steady current of the creek above him. Over his prison was a sheet of purple energy that held his prison and prevented him from drowning.

Atop of the prison two Jackals hissed hungrily at the Elite, waving Neeedlers at the Heretic, menacingly. Hydra ignored them and checked his holsters, his weapons were relieved of him.
Though his chances were slight to get out he locked his gaze around the cell, excluding the hisses from the Jackals above.

Through his left and right there were dozens of watery prisons, all of his or the Sergeant's squads. To his left, he saw a pair of Hunters, neither a part of their squad. They both growled angrily, flexing their worm-like interiors at the sheet aloft.
To his right, there was a Human female who, to his judgement, looked unconsciousness. On her side there was a gash that bled uncritically, but still looked shockingly dangerous.

To Hydra's conclusion, the Covenant did not take prisoners often, and if so they were torturing them or planned a greater death intended for them. He looked up and saw the Jackal's being pushed away by a Brute Captain that shouldered a Brute Shot.
The Jackals hissed repulsively at their captain, flashing their jagged teeth at him as they walked away.

"Your're miserable horde of Heretics are no match for the Covenant!" The Brute spat, fencing his dark eyes into the Heretic's. "And your fate is rapidly approching, Heretic!"
The Last Heretic sniggered as he defended the truth. "As is your's, fool!" He curved his arms and snarled at him. "You will pay for your lack of vision soon enough"
At the very disclosure of words from his mandibles a echoing boom reverberated through the creek prisons, rippling the intricate texture of energy, slicing through the currents.

The Brute Captain snorted while a bolt of plasma caught him in the midriff. He roared in agony, arcing his Brute Shot into the air and dismissing it's grenade shots at a shrouded ally.
The female Marine to his right woke in a twitch and looked alarmed, she looked around at Hydra and to the explosions above.
"Be calm. Help has came." He pointed skyward, a Phantom twirled past a cloudless sky.
She continued to stare above as Hydra reached into his senses, conforming his ears and surpassing the noises and booms, reaching even farthur.

Hydra leaned to his cell block and pounded the sheets anxiously. From aloft a shower of bullets slammed into something hard and mettallic and from the sounds a shrieking plop responded.
He heard the low hum of a Phantom and the sound of plasma rain on the grass and into the stream catching some of the other prison's generators releasing their captives through the heat of battle.
'Gammamee listened to the Jackal's hisses while their shields thinned in thin wisps of energy. The bullets that flayed the Jackal's skin were that from a SMG and more salvos fired upon the area.

He focused on a particular humming from above and looked to sky, tracing a glob of plasma from a Wraith into a patch of grass ahead of him. It was now a full-battle against the Covenant.

'The rescue…'

The Hunters on his left bobbed their heads to the noises, waiting for action as Hydra was too. A Jackal stepped through the creek onto his watery prison and hid behind it's orange shield, balancing it's Plasma Pistol toward someone or something that threatened it.
A slab of plasma slashed the Jackal and it's shields thawed in the glowing crossfire.

From the expanse of space a pod smashed into the top sheet. The energy crackled under the sudden impact of weight and the orbital insertion pod flung it's door apart, dismissing fresh smoke facing the river.
A shielded Human covered in a black cuirass held a SMG to his chest, crossing a spray of bullets to a Brute's head as he fell under it.
The Human 'Helljumper' looked below seeing the prisons and he held the trigger down onto the generator.
It sparked and blew embers everywhere, but the sheet melted over him. He watched the swarmed sky fill with blobs of plasma and bullets.

The Helljumper extended his arm reaching to grab the Heretics arm. Hydra took it and he was heaved up into the spry gunfire and the steaming battle rise through his senses.
"Thank you" Hydra sputtered in english, ducking while a stray bolt pecked the air.
The Human nodded and returned to the prisons, releasing the Hunters and the female from their confines below the creek.

Hydra drew his surroundings, collecting his bearings with sharp gasps. There was a towering edifice above him where there were dozens of levels and tiers containing Seraph fighters and Covenant Phantoms. At the base where a series of Plasma Mortars were emplaced a flock of Wraiths and Ghosts were being controlled by Brutes, firing upon the Humans and the Heretics driving them from the fiery fields.
Before the edifice was a rainforest clearing, littered with monumental walls spinning up the trenches of prisons. The gatherings of Heretic and Human dropships separated fresh troops with a litter of vehicles, Scorpions and Warthogs dropped creating even more a dense battle.

Fireworks shot from the mortars and entered the skies slamming into a Pelican. The Pelican bobbed and hissed singing metal, giving it's hover away and dropping a few Human Marines onto the field. The dropship gave under another glob of plasma fired from a Wraith and it twirled towards the ground, creating a dense quake from the field.

'It was a mess, a mess that could be won…'

He looked around for a weapon and chose his specific Covenant Carbine that he favored so much. He cuffed a clip inside the hilt and fired a quick projectile on a Brute, falling to his grasp.

A impending army of the Covenant marched toward a wave of battle-ready Heretics. A Gold Ship Master flung his Energy Sword in a impatient wave and sprinted toward the Brutes, dodging a triad of plasma bolts steadied for him.
Just overhead a vast clump of plasma battered the side of a Heretic Phantom, sending it clear to the rainforest floor in a heap of flames.
He thrusts his projectile into a Jackal's head and watched it's beady eye liquidate into death.

Suddenly something light and fiery grasped his shoulder. He looked in dread to see a plasma grenade clutched to his back. He realized that panic wasn't an option and he tore it from his armor along with the crimson plate it clung to.
In a flash he dove and his shields depleted in half. Hot plasma grazed his head and his shields unceasingly dropped.

The shields sparked life and he journeyed onward, grabbing a Brute by the head and throwing it down into the prison he was captivated in.
He ignited a plasma grenade the Brute threw at him and stuck it to the Brute's head. In a gaudy and fleshy gasp the grenade detonated sending black pelts of blood through the hot air.
He studied the battle, bringing his Carbine to a zoom and sniping a nearby Drone from a prodigious bulwark jutting from the field. Around the bulwark, Hydra nearly dropped at what he saw. A trio of Engineers were disecting the wall apart, tapping their tentacles into the electric work of the Forerunners.
A Human Marine discreetly neared the Engineers, Magnum in hand. Hydra leapt to the Human's front and held his palm up. "The Engineers are not Covenant, they are devoted to the Forerunner and the Forerunner only"
The Human didn't shoot them, he merely looked at them with a gaping wonder, watching their graceful feelers stroke the battlement wall.
This disturbed him slightly and he knew what and who waited in that edifice.

'The Prophet of Pride was in there, working his corruption to the malice of the Hiearchs before and after him…I have to stop him…'

Hydra concentrated on a Ghost hovering by and the Brute roaring victory in it. The Ghost forced the boost and the Brute turned to run over a Grunt, slashing cyan blood through the air.
The Heretic centered his precision on the engine and shot, letting his fingers blow the Ghost in a violet streak. The Brute toppled out onto an inflamed patch of turf, he looked around groggily shooting his Brute Plasma Rifle at a nearby Elite.
The Elite unaware of his position was unprepared, Hydra then zoomed into the scope and nipped the Brute in the helmet with a perfect head-shot.

Hydra walked past the Engineers, leaving them to their work as he scrutinized on the battle in front of him. Above him a Longsword and a Seraph twirled in a flame of silver stripes, and he confided his eyes forward to the skies.
The Seraph flipped, letting the Longsword pass under it. It then terminated it's cannons, and the plasma rocket homed on the Longsword fighter.
The Human Pilot riffled it's wings and harnessed an air pocket. The plasma rocket impacted in air and sliced through a tornado of green. The Longsword then rippled the fin and dropped a gauss shell onto the Seraph.
In a shimmer of purple steel the Seraph swirled down to the ground in a heap of defeat, detonating it's engines and sending plasma all over.

Hydra stormed confident toward a Honor Guard. The Honor Guard was by a towering purple creel, the Brute flicked it's teeth at a Grunt and urged it's Honor Stave onto the creature.
'Gammamee lurched in front of him, he took the arm of the Guard and cocked it in a braking joint.
The Brute bellowed in agony and it did something he hadn't anticipated. It grabbed the Heretic's head and bent him in the air, throwing him in the air.
"ARGH!!" He fell on the ground, the impact stripping his shield completely.
The Brute rampaged toward him on all fours, roaring viciously in the air.
Hydra looked around, his Carbine lying uselessly by the battlement. He flexed his might into his legs and sprung forward, tackling the Brute by the torso.
The Honor Guard flung Hydra around his head, and the Elite staggered upright, his shields splinting. He dove behind a plasma-scorched Warthog, awaiting his shields to load.

'Gammamee then looked to the side of the Warthog and saw a Elite corpse with a Energy Sword to his holster. He seized it and lighted it in a dazzle of blanched-azure, he shoveled his arms, gripping the hilt as he slapped the Brute across the neck to it's inevitable plunder.
He panted raspily holding his side with his palms.

'The Covenant are ruthless to push us away from their Prophet, surely they are doing a sufficient job of doing it'

The mortars fitted at the base were firing in every direction, shattering Heretic Wraiths at the bed of the rainforest behind him. His brothers on the Ghosts, Wraiths, and Spectres were catapulting their weapons into the ledges of the edifice hoping to disable their armaments.
It was a plight of battle flashed everywhere as a Covenant Wraith neared a swarm of Marines.

Hydra gulped a fresh opening of air watching in dread as the Marines vaporized into a crater where they once stood.

'I have to end this…'

He crouched, rolling to the soft grove underneath his knees. He gripped the grass and slid on pond of Hunter blood, propelling him forward.
'Gammamee cinched his knees, vaulting them to a spring and he pounced on the back of the Wraith. The Elite blared his mandibles for a war cry, cuffing his claws together and nailing the unknowing Brute in the cockpit.

The Brute gasped in one last agonizing scream, falling under the Heretic's strength down into the metal beneath the sapphire-cells, still sustaining an unadorned hover.
Hydra scraped the Covenant metal under his fingertips, dropping into the cockpit. He touched the terminal and waited patientely for a traditional click to rink his ears.
The click was entered followed by and alarming red buzzer that interloped his transmission.
'Gammamee looked to his display and counted two enormous chunks of red, circling his position with silent and graceful beckons.

He switched tact and looked through the viewscreen, holding his scales in one entity.
His Wraith glistened evenly by a Covenant Ghost while another one fired the twin cannons through the purple plating.
Hydra's shields pinched and the terminal in front of him glazed. The plasma soaked round the Wraith causing his threat display to flash angrily at him.
He pressed down on the pellucid arrow winking at him letting the corse plasma burn through the mortar.

The glob he fired spiraled high, cratering through the Ghost provoking him.
He steered his tank to the right, motioning a ghastly threat to the oncoming Ghost.
The Brute excelled it's boost and faltered toward him, though it was too close to fire upon without threatening his life also.
Hydra pierced a gauge firing gaudy through the viewscreen and a pair of faint turrets appeared from the sleek ridges of his Wraith.

The turrets held a low beam but were efficient to kill. They shafted their plasma and bolted the Ghost in the wing. The wing clasped to smoke and gave through the haze, the Brute then flew skyward and the Ghost clung to it's own explosion.
He deactivated the terminal and clambered out, refitting his Carbine to his head in a sniping position.

'Let's go…'

The distinct sound of buzzing echoed his shields and behind him flew a swarm of Drones, each hooking their guns to their bodies and firing. He curled his arm and dismissed back, all of their insectoid remains falling to his fingers.

'Let's go…'

'Gammamee withdrew his position, gazing at the tiring battle discharging everywhere.
To the sky there were Pelicans and Phantoms driving their weapons into the many tiers where the Sniper Jackals, to no avail, were shooting the exterior of the Heretic and Human Forces.
The Covenant air patrols were giving up air space as they controlled the cyan skies.
He looked to the ground, seeing purple and grey metal burning, creating spits and bowls of fire and plasma.
The casualties were endless, Heretics, Covenant, Humans…Whomever…All were pledging death to their faiths now, all forgived, all redeemed, all punished, all condemnedm, all were hurting…

The Heretic Field Master curted his Carbine back to his spine and he pinned a Jackal to the ground, it spitting angrily at him.
The traitor then died in a charge of purple…The eye of it died slowly, claiming it's into Hydra's…
He looked up and saw a gold Ship Master supporting a Particle Beam Rifle. The Elite Sniper trailed a Drone circling a remnant of a Human Scorpion and it fell, quaking down to it's spurting maw.

'Let's go…'

Hydra tore for a local battlement found near the base of the mortars.
For a split moment he begged the Forerunner to be with him on this battle, blessing his allies and the truth he glanced behind the battlement to see the mortar.
Manning the turret was a Brute that could be seen scanning the terminal in the cannon drive. It turned, noticing Hydra's position, letting the triggers blast the battlement to a shroud of hissing foils.

'Gammamee's shields were gone, he layed on the ground aching with scars and hot metal melting his structure. He dove for the next battlement and waited…

'I will rid my fear…'

'1…'

His shields heaved the hot chars and continued to fire sizzles at him…

'2…'

His scars burnt hazard purple, coloring his armor with his blood…

'3…'

He grabbed his side and panted for air…

'4…'

He held his breath at the forfeit of air…

'5…'

The sky above turned a glossy blue and the sound of combustion pitched his ears.
He fathomed his valiancy and marched for the base ignoring the mortar above him.
Hydra raised his Carbine, squandering the Brute from the mortar with a single, solitary shot.
He then grinned daftly, failing to see the Honor Guards that lined in organized panels.

They laughed in hoarse and guffawing throats looking at Hydra. One flipped it's stave toward his paw and threw it at the Heretic.
"Aah..!" He wheezed, the stave hanging from his chestplate with a singular daze.

'Yes…Let's go…'

Hydra gulped air, grabbing the stave from his chest and hissing at the Brutes.
He heaved his weight into the throw and pelted a Honor Guard in the head. Before it hit the ground it was surely dead…
The Last Heretic miffed his rage tackling a Brute by arms. He threw his Carbine aside, and focused his strength on the scuffle.

The Honor Guards around him shifted angrily…All waiting to see what the Heretic would do to their brother…Another prime example of treachery in the Covenant…They were looking out for no one…
'Gammamee puffed his arms, clubbing the guard over the head, cracking it's brain in a blow…

He hastened, rolling backwards as a Honor Guard attempted a smack in the neck.
Hydra ducked one stream of energy that seperated death from life. He puckered his fingers and pushed, letting the Brute tumble.
The Heretic grabbed his Carbine from the ramp behind the mortar, aiming at the remaining two Honor Guards.

The last two fell to their plunder and he yelled in victory…
"WORT WORT WORT!" His native tongue escaping his mandibles in a flurry of passion and pride.
He looked around at the smoking battle won…
The Heretics and the Humans were rallied in victory, marching toward the base as Longswords and Heretic Seraphs crackled in air from above, grazing the zenith of the edifice overhead.

Spectres, Scorpions, Wraiths, Warthogs, Ghosts and remaining Banshees were being patrolled by Humans or Heretics, riding or striding towards him.
The Engineers in the corner of the field were glazed with sparks, still brisking their work as if nothing was going on.

The Zealot Sniper that helped him earlier lead the squads, perching on the side of a Warthog and looking to Hydra.
"Leader?" Hydra kneeled to the Zealot, approaching him, Beam Rifle holstered.
"No…" He bowed to the Heretic. "What are your orders, Leader?"

‹—————————————————›

Ninth Age of Reclamation
Live and Learn

Hydra beckoned his Covenant Carbine to his chest, leading an entire army of vanquishing Heretics and Humans to a Prophet's downfall. The army closed on the base and emptied from their vehicles, looking to the front portal in front of Hydra.

'No doubt Pride is aware of our victory on the edifice's rainforest plains, in this place of dread we shall end his reign…'

The Elite bared his failure for the truth, he failed the Forerunners, he failed the Heretic Leader, he failed the Oracle, but he hadn't yet failed fimself…
They marched on the ramp, where a large crater washed from the mortar. They delved into the crater; his warriors flashed the Jackal and Brute's bodies with plasma, feeling their desire to beat the traitors even in death.

They reached the main gateway, which was sealed with shackles of flashing images glowing in patterns.
"Marines! Get a satchel on the door, get along, this Prophet dies today!" A Human Sergeant ordered to his fellows.
They chanted a brisk "Sir!" and worked behind Hydra and the crater, stamping some sort of glue on a silver piece of metal.
As they quickly finished they flashed a detonator trigger to the Sergeant. The Human nodded a back away indication to everyone.
"Back!" He snarled into the air.
The Grunts cowardly backed away, shivering in their armors to the Heretic's voice. He noticed that the Covenant did not focus on encouragement but authority that is why the Grunts he worked with on Threshold performed so well…

Hydra indicated one finger to the Sergeant, transferring a cross of body language to tell him that this wouldn't take long. The Sergeant took a step back and readied his Rocket Launcher.
"Grunts!"
They snapped into position in front of their Elite Leaders. He was tired of their unfair treatment; this will end under his canon…
"You will not falter but stand strong" He clenched his fist to the ring. "Our Covenant, broken as it is will be united and stronger as Heretics and the venerated allies, the human alliance will stand and stop the truth!"
The Grunts breathed slow methane pockets, looking at their leader with sentimental eyes.
"We are the stronger Covenant, we are the devoted, and we are the loyal races to our forefathers!"

Human and Heretic forces alike clapped their hail to them, filling their weapons to the sky and screaming in victory.
He waved his hand at the Sergeant as he clasped the trigger to his holster. The explosion ricocheted through the base with red-hot plasma from Brute Plasma Rifles greeting them.

"For Halo!" He bellowed, crossing his Carbine with his face and walking into the hot smoke.
"HALO!" The Zealot next to him cried.
In front of him were Brute Honor Guards, up was a massive bridge, which had more excessive rays of light, under the bridge were tiers of Forerunner-etched creeks going up, row by row. On the rows were spouts of fountains with Brute-controlled turrets.
All of the army filed into the chamber, within the edifice was an enormous corridor, and on the walls were remarkable signets next to banks. Hydra did not know what these signets were; though he found the Forerunner's to be a technological advancing and conflicting culture and he did not know all their technology. After a moment of walking these signets steamed and hissed, the Heretic realized what was coming out of these could not be good.
"Fire at the walls!" Hydra yelled, leaning his position to concealment.

Hydra shot a Drone flying by in air, gathering his projectiles. His shields were deposited of sparks and he looked up to see a Brute behind a Plasma Turret. He meant to light a plasma grenade but in a shower of flying fire a Marine beat him to it.
'Gammamee channeled his rage, the Prophet of Pride floating in it's imperial dais above the temple.

"The Prophet is mine!" Hydra claimed, boxing a clip inside the store of his Carbine.
The Battle of the Truthes engaged between Heretic and Human forces against the Covenant. It was truly becoming fiery, the Humans were pushing the Jackals to their cupola barriers on the bridge and the Heretics, the Grunts also, were driving a flock of Brutes into conduits.
The Drones brooded behind the Prophet, each shooting a diverse target.

The Prophet charged his throne and fired a dismissive beam at a Human. The Human then dropped in air, bleeding from the profuse shock.
Hydra seized his window, grabbing the Hierarch from the hem of his azure-colored robes and lifting himself up to the arm.
"Heretic vermin! The Divine Beyond is nigh and you fools are converting to Heresy!" The Prophet elbowed the Elite, gripping his arm and locking a shield-tight grasp on him.
He retched for air as his suit was suddenly drained of all energy. "Weak! Always!" Pride teased shooting an Elite by the throat.

Hydra struggled to gain life…

'I can't hold on any longer…'

With an unanticipated beam from a Particle Beam Rifle, Pride managed to disable his shields long enough.

'For the truth…'

He side-swept to the left arm, embracing the Prophet by the crinkled neck and punching him in the snout. With a final tactic, Hydra pointed his Carbine directly into the Prophet's face and pulled the trigger…
In a swift edge he raised his weapon at the fallen Prophet…

"FREE!"

Heretic Chaste-Truth be told
Date: 16 January 2006, 11:54 pm

Heretic Chaste
Truth be told…
Prologue

The Heretic Leader spurred his thruster packs forward, clutching a Holodrone in his palms, and allowing them to light together while adhering into his scales.
The Heretic tapped the device as they hovered in air, vibrating to the dense and cluttered ether.
The Elite brushed the blue orbs into a small conduit of glass, switching his sight to the Holodrone that wafted down below.

"See! Heretic!" A Grunt squeaked, pulling the trigger on his pistol.
The Holodrone of the Heretic Leader gasped in illusive pain, holding his Plasma Rifles steady on an armored Elite that held an Energy Sword to his heart.
"Hold your fire, hold your fire!" The SpecOps Leader bellowed in command.
The Heretic Leader ignored the plasma skimming his skin and focused on the Elite in front of him. "I wondered who the Prophets would send to silence me…an Arbiter…I'm flattered."
The Arbiter carved his sword across his chest and bore his eyes into the Heretic Leader…The truth was yet to come…
"He's using a Holodrone…" The Half-Jawed Leader growled. "He must be somewhere close…Come out so we may kill you…"
The Heretic Leader above in the chamber abroad chuckled quietly through his gullet. "Get in line…"

The Heretic Leader pulled the Holodrone from the chamber below, allowing the orb to burn a fervid mist of blue onto a Flood corpse. The Elite then took his remaining 'drones and holstered them, looking to his brother, the second-in-command Gala 'Gammamee.
'Gammamee was a passionate and dauntless Heretic, zealous and headstrong, tactical and bonded to the truth, as was he.

"They have an Arbiter with them" The Heretic Leader indicated below, resting his hand onto his brother's shoulder. He knew that 'Gammamee freshly released the Flood onto them and he was seemingly doubting their occupation here. "You did commendably, brother" He soothed him. "Releasing the parasite"
'Gammamee bowed his head down, clinging to his last words. He resided his Carbine to his leg and tilted his mandibles in a disheartened expression. The Heretic Field Master had only one thing to ask…trying to restrain himself he uttered hoarsely. "Why…?"
The Heretic Leader looked taken aback as he composed the best answer. "We needed…"
He struggled to find the right words. "For the sake of the truth we needed to release the Flood to the blind one's…"

The Heretic Leader faltered forward, trying to restore tranquility in him. "They will see…Soon enough, they will see…"
"When!" 'Gammamee whispered, jarring his eyes.
"Imagine!" He choked on his words. "An army of our brother's, all those loyal to oppose the Prophet's and their 'Great Journey.' Look at Halo, 'Gammamee! The ruins of it! Imagine the pain of the innocent…The blood of our fathers and on the blood of our son's…it will consume all we have built!"

The Heretic Field Master merely nodded, gaping his gullet to utter a statement but held his breath to prevent it from escaping. 'Gammamee sighed deeply, allowing his rebreather to sustain his sanity on what he just did. "Yes, Leader…The truth shall be reveled"
The Heretic Leader consented, withdrawing his Plasma Rifles to his sheath. "Go to the laboratories on the adverse side and meet me there…"
'Gammamee raised his Carbine and walked toward the door. The sound of the Heretic Leader's thruster pack vented throughout the dark corridors.

'For the truth we have to make sacrifices…It all makes sense'

That was the last time 'Gammamee ever saw his leader alive again…

‹—————————————————›

Heretic blockade, Capital Carrier, Marauder
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Sudden Asset

The defiant and virtuous Hydra was standing before hundreds of Heretics in the garden chamber. Having just returned from the successful task of defeating Pride, the Heretic was being commended for his actions and leadership on the field, along with a collection of Elites and Humans being congratulated.
"Worthy and honorable!" The Councilor protested over the crowds. "Our revered, once distant brother has returned to spread the truth! With abilities worthy of the Forerunner, we will sanction him the rank of Ship Master."

The cheers erupted from the Elites sitting stagnant on the audience trestles above him. Hydra cuffed his mandibles in a split and nodded to the Councilor, touching his forehead with his, approving the approval.
'Gammamee was going to be granted his own ship…He hemmed his breath and anticipation as the Councilor bestowed another Elite with a new rank.

The Last Heretic possessed off-planet tactics, along with the field generalship he was bestowed with.
He was overcome with empathy and apathy, gazing at an alien moth circling a pertinent floweret with a kind of stasis encompassing him.

'There are dozens of ships in their private blockade…capital ships, carriers, flagships, assault ships, orbiters…I wonder which one I will get…?'

The fleet that enforced the blockade was positioned over a wavy cove. Forerunner strings of canals enameled the cavern walls and to the cove around the blockade.
They were very secrete and protected, devoting the skills of defense to the warriors of the Marauder.

Hydra looked to the trestle above watching the silent applause emerge the mandibles, rebreathers, and the slit-holes of the Elites, Grunts, and Hunters to the Heretics below.
He met a stare with a Human Marine; a group of his kind was positioned next to a pair of Hunters. The Human delegates bore timorous expressions to the environment around them.
He couldn't blame them, being in a once-enemy's ambience he would be scared too.

"In this age of war, we find ourselves in a truce with humanity. The Elites were inextricable as to why the humans were not accepted in our Covenant bond by the Prophets, as they have proven noble and worthy for our originator's divine beyond!" The Councilor rose his hands to the flora-covered ceiling. "But in this age we are deceived by the Prophets and our…their Great Journey…." The Councilor recomposed his words and finished in a deafening roar. "With humanity we shall conquer the Covenant and embark on a new era!"

The stands above echoed compliant bellows…

* * *

Hydra approached the Councilors, thumping his jaw-line to the lucent windows toward the oblique lodging. He dipped his head down to the dais atop, tucking his arms within his underarmor and gnarled a respected salutation.
"Noble ones…"
The Councilors returned the greeting, residing their palms into their pale coverings, nodding to the Heretic Ship Master.
"You are here, regarding your command of a ship…" The Councilor wavered his mandibles.
Hydra nodded, indicating his forehead to the window behind them. The dozens of hovering ships floating behind the Marauder gave a graceful symbiosis, flashing their gaudy cannons and beacons to the Heretic.

The Councilors concealed their mouths and muttered softly to each other, speaking a guttural response to him. "You will be transferred to the Effectual Chastity, a assault carrier bracing 200 soldiers strong"
Hydra pictured the Effectual Chastity, floating in space above the ancient ring.

'By the Forerunner…'

His mind carried away, etching into the Divine Beyond where it did not belong at this moment. "What is my next task then, Councilors?"
"It is simple" The Councilor advised. "You will defend this blockade from the Covenant…Until we give you further orders, do whatever to augment your troops and take what previsions to insure that this encirclement is hidden, Hydra"

‹—————————————————›

Effectual Chastity
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Stargazer and Executor

The Last Heretic marveled at the intricate weaving that scoped his ship to an impeccable fashion. The silver and violet counters, tapering the rippling steel with perfect motifs glistened to perfection.

'I've truly gone a long way…Heretic Field Master, usurper of the Covenant to Heretic Follower safeguarding the truth for eternity…'

Hydra grinned at his soldiers, snapping into a balanced posture to their Ship Master as he eased their acquittals. He walked toward the bridge to the orbital padlocks that bridled a silver clasp, pressing his fingers on the scanner the padlocks vibrated and shifted, revealing a quadrant of decks.
The Heretic Ship Master approached the platform to the end of the deck. Holographic screens whispered vivid replies, beckoning the Elite toward the command deck. The grafts of energy beams splinted to meet and cornered a hanging platform above his head.

The scaffold divulged a series of terminals into bright luminance; hovering chairs occupied by Elites were creaking to the weight of the armors. Hydra crossed the terminal and reeled himself inside the Ship Master's platform.
His platform sat overlooking the entire bridge. The Elite's working their fingers steadily turned their foreheads to the Heretic, inclining their motions to the Leader, awaiting commands.

'Gammamee sat in his crystalline-made throne, his headship was truly complete as he ran his scales through the filmy monitor in front of him. The arrows in the monitor trickled to a swim, gliding stirringly for a tiny receptacle in the center. The receptacle was the compilation of artificial letters, crowding themselves to gather lore.

"Comply a set of patrols to the Pheno Tract outside High Charity, search for Heretic alarums and run them back to me" 'Gammamee proclaimed narrowly to the Elite's below.
He waded his forefingers on the console, running through the known factions of tracts outside Halo.

He scoped the galaxy, dubbed by the Covenant as the "Elegant Rescue" and glazed his eyes through the clear pages.
The Covenant held positions toward High Charity, repelling the Flood from the Holy City with all their failing effort.

The quadrants and tracts all over space held a glimpse of an enemy, a Flood-controlled cruiser docked itself in the shear of High Charity, a Brute-taken capitol ship assumed space of the second sector towards the Pheno, backing it's cannons through aerial support, he tracked a squad of Banshees and a solitary Phantom. Both echoing a response through the quadrants and he beckoned the static forward.

"Transferring a troop of captivated Brutes via Phantom, requesting a docking code to any Heretic or UNSC forces…" The voice of a Human sounded, followed by the relentless string of static.
Just then the patrols responded back and the artificial letters trailed, resonantly screaming a reply to the Ship Master.

He tapped the letters to quiet them and waited for the static to ensue. The silver and blue probes oddly shaped in a triangular lucidity bobbed to the dock center of the Effectual Chastity. They transmitted what they saw into palpated messages, sending theirs to the Ship Master.

"Heretic's sending underscore's to the Marauder, they need immediate recovery" The Patrol's adept voice carried.
"Send direct transports, Phantom Dropships to the Infinas Tract" Hydra ordered from his top scaffold.
The Elite's below his platform clicked their terminals away, bringing the lucid screens to a vast patch of darkness. The resemblance of the Elegant Rescue traced the oval of Halo through the gulf of dimness.

From the launch bay a trio of Phantoms initiated; the Heretic Ship Master trailed them to the stars, leaving the atmosphere completely.
The tiny semblance's that were holographic models of their counterparts whisked their engines out towards the capsized Banshee's. 'Gammamee gazed them to safety as the Elite Rangers dropped from the dropship rescuing the wounded and aiding the crumbling Phantom to a stasis-like hover.

The Heretic then noticed a small wave of lights moving toward his rescue ships. They were marked with Covenant scriptures on the side of their hulls and they lurched about them, cannons blazing…
"We have Covenant air waves impressing my rescuers…I want Seraphs on that quadrant…Move!" He barked from his chair.
"We have no available Seraph fighters, Ship Master" A voice from the launch bay scowled.
He stringed his snout and flexed his mandibles, concluding a notion, he switched to the channel to all transmissions of Heretics in the insular areas and prayed his fingers to a diverting wave of voices and spoke. "This is Ship Master, Gala 'Gammamee…I need direct fighters on my rescue…PLEASE!"
Hydra would love more than to climb in his own Banshee and assist them himself, but he clearly knew where he belonged now…

"This is Counter Leader with the Seraph fighters…We are beginning our attack…" This voice was that of a strong Elite.
"Counter Leader what is your appellation?" Hydra tuned his fingers to the Seraph's engaging the waves, the Counter Leader prevailing on all grounds.
"This is Ralis 'Rahanammee…" The voice replied.

'Rahanammee? Impossible, he was part of the secrete and patrician Unity of Repent…The subsequent tetrad following the rule of the Prophet of Regret. I am sure they all died at the inception of the Civil War…'

"Ralis then…signalize your patrols on the Covenant…Get rid of them before they report us!" Hydra snarled, palpating the stars for Brute prattle.
"Yes, Leader" The Repent Leader said.
'Gammamee gathered from his pulpit screen that the Repent Leader was an extraordinary pilot and aggressor, his skills quite unmatched in this part of the sector and especially this battle.

Hydra traced his Seraph in a arch, he twirled the oval spacecraft and shot a Phantom down in a heap of gaudy holograms. 'Rahanammee lead his squad in a darkening arrow of waves and marked a Covenant Banshee for dissolution. From the blatant fire emerging from the spry battle, the Heretic's pulled out from the rescue, escorting the damaged ships carrying Brute hostages.
"Come back to the Effectual Chastity, make SURE those Brutes get back here…they shall pay for their lack of discernment!" The Heretic Ship Master snarled, transferring his starship's vector arrays via a solitary matrix channel.
The matrix channel flowed in a translucent green wave of bars, designating the worst of his best capabilities-Patience…

He waited, withering his scales with the back of his armored fist, he plucked the spikes out of his armlet and wedged them back in, marveling at the black and crimson smoothness of his sheathings.
With an alarming boom the pulpit screeched, a siren beacon perched on the pedestal of the chair of his arm.
The Covenant numbering were destined in certain directives, of teeming ciphers and digits that cornered the blue screening of the pulpit.

Hydra patched the numbers and listened to the frequency from the Vilictri Tract outside Delta Halo.
A Human voice, that of a male's vocalized them in a chanting fashion, over and over and over again.
'Gammamee tucked the bytes to the Repent Leader, sending his position.

"Confirming your position!" 'Rahanammee growled through the transmission, brushing the Seraph through the open bay.
Hydra switched his channel through the interchange inside the glassy speakers all through his ship and her corridors.
"Give our rescuers hospitality…send the Brutes to the holding pins, they will suffer!" 'Gammamee spat through the enameled communicator.
From the corridors the harsh and deep bellows and diminutive and succored squeaks from Elites and Grunts to their Ship Master.

* * *

"…traitor…"

Hydra marched toward the ferrous steel bars of the holding cells where a wounded Brute clutched his jowl, growling softly at his Guards that held Energy Swords attentively.
The Ship Master ushered his personnel Guards away from the block, motioning for his holstered Carbine in his sheath plate.
Slowly drawing the nose to the Brute's head he shook with potential grief and anger…It was these savage beasts that broke the Truth and the Covenant they were struggling to rebuild…

"Betrayer…" He repeated a taunt, jarring his Carbine to the wound where the Brute clutched his jaw.
The Brute looked as if he were going to grab the Carbine, but he gave the urge and flayed his eyes in an angry sneer, waiting for the worst that was yet to come…
"I know what you're thinking…" The Heretic predicted. "As soon as you grab my Carbine, I will have already pulled the spur…And you would be on the plates…dead, with your lies and stench still inside you…"

"You…Are going to tell me where our lost brother's are…the remaining Councilors…" Hydra moved the nose of his Carbine inside the Brute's mouth, poking the ample gauze embodied in black gore.
"Agh…" The Brute riffed angrily in pain.
"Tell me…" 'Gammamee focused his eyes into the Brutes, burning the pain and suffering his kind has caused his.
The Brute looked away…Loving more to be shot than disobey his orders…whatever they were.
"I see we're not gonna make any progression in this…You chose the hard way…I warned you…"
The Heretic walked from the caging and dropped his Carbine…centering his eyes on a incandescent patch of embers swinging around a spike protruding from the fiery slats.

Hydra picked up the spike and looked at the dark mark searing inside the central…He flipped the spike revealing the dishonoring mark to the Brute…
"No…You can't do that…Only those sanctioned by the Hierarchs!" The Brute panicked, backing to the back of the cell.
"I…am a Hierarch…of the Heretics…"
He impelled the spike to the cage and into the chest of the Brute. "Arrrrrraaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"
He pulled away from the spike and threw it aside, withdrawing a excited gasp from his gullet…

Embedded in the Brute's chest was the Mark of Shame, gleaming in the dancing shadows that licked the matted flesh perfectly. "If you do not tell me I will drop you on Halo and you will wait for your barbaric kind to retrieve you…"
The Brute growled in an angry wheeze, and enclosed his rage that would obstruct this pledge. "The remaining Councilors…" He groaned, clasping his chest.
"Yes…" Hydra snorted eagerly. "Are on…the Capital Carriers to the Prophet of Truth…"
"What are their designations…?"
The Brute moaned softly to what he was saying but replied in a hoarse growl. "The Twilight…"
Hydra scanned his brain for a ship called the Twilight, he hadn't heard of it but he knew that the Prophet of Truth had hundreds of flagships to his personnel guard. "Where is it…?" He inquired hopefully.
'Gammamee studied the Brute's expression, from a saddened pique he changed to an angry scowl. "I…don't know…"
Abruptly taken aback, the Elite lunged his arm forward, gripping the Brute's neck. He flexed slightly to give the beast pain, and he was gladdened to see him hiss in agony.
"WHERE…?" He huffed, shifting his muscles to more pain.
"You…" The Brute struggled to gasp. "Y-You can kill me…I don't know w-where it is!"

The Ship Master let his arm drop…The Truth…From a Brute…
'Gammamee turned away from the cage and made his way from the holding pins. The Brute panted angrily in the darkening shadows, glowering to the Elite, vowing revenge.

"Let him go…" He insisted, were drawing his hands away into his armor. "But…Leader?" The Guard hesitated, tipping his head. "Do it, brother he will do no harm…he will walk in shame as I have walked in shame."
"I will kill you, Heretic! I swear on my life that I will kill you!!!!!!!!" The Brute's useless threats sounded through the empty corridors.
Hydra walked in mistrust and doubt from the interrogation he executed. He gulped the finest of air from the Sangheil cleansers hanging immobile over him. Though it was spans of units since he ever been there…Visiting his mate and son…
He had never forgotten about them, he devoted his life to finding the truth and the truth only. When he found it and learned it he retained his mate's reaction perfectely.

* * *

'Gammamee paced through his courtyard behind his domicile on Sangheil, the mountains around him befitted his mind and he waited for his companion and son to return.
He wanted so much for his mate and son to join him on this newly organized war on the Covenant. Having just returned from High Charity, 'Gammamee learned the awful and actual truth…The Prophet's were false…

'The Heretic Leader's crude words enunciated my ears, to open our eyes…The Covenant using the faith of our forefathers to bring ruin to us all…The Great Journey is misleading…'

The lately mobilized Heretic faltered his mandibles to the cold air, uttering a quiet shrill. He never actually noticed how the snowy sand clung to his soles coarsely, he moved onto the metallic plates bested by the Forerunner's, sitting on the silver bench perched beside the gardens.
"The truth…" He sighed calmly.
He wanted so much to plunge his fist into the Covenant bond himself, to hear the Prophet's dying words in his hands, to feel the pulse of the condemned halt in his fingers…
"Gala?"
The mellow voice of his mate sounded through the garden courtyard.
'Gammamee looked to see her standing in the archway, her slender build fitted to bright crimson robes, looking peaceful to her spouse.
"Lasha" He purred, meeting her.
From behind her a delighted howl broke, his son emerged from behind her in slight shielding. His son, Gyler 'Gammamee ran to his father and squeezed him warmly.
"I have something…urgent to say…" 'Gammamee stuttered, holding his mate and son snugly.
"What is it?" Lasha asked, seeing his solemn expression.
'Gammamee turned away from his mate and circled back, meeting her gaze with his. "I have learned the truth of our Covenant…"
Lasha didn't fathom what he said; only looking back to his eyes. "What do you mean? What is it?"
"The truth is…The Covenant is headed for havoc, you must realize that the Prophet's are lying…to the Elites and to every being in this misstating bond…"
Lasha looked contrived, nothing other than the contrite expression on her face…He hadn't expected this.
"What? That can't be true…Who spoke this?" She said in a hushed tone. "Heresy…Gala do you realize you could be executed for just speaking this!"
"What? Lasha, actualize and accept the truth…the Forerunner's designed the sacred rings for protection and destruction from and for the parasite…!" He lulled in a grave voice.
"Do you realize what you're saying…The Prophet of Truth passed the ordinance that anybody…anybody who does Heresy will be marked for shame…or death!" Lasha expressed, backing away from him, holding Gyler behind her.
"Lasha…I have learned this…This is our Great Journey…"
"How can you do this!" She gasped, choking back tears.
"UNDERSTAND…THE…TRUTH!" 'Gammamee gagged.
"NO! You understand the truth…You have pledged your life to the Covenant…" She cried, hiding her mandibles behind her hands. "Why…?"
"Lasha…This is what's best for us…for our Covenant…for us…for our son…" He stuttered. "I love you…"
She shook her head angrily, braking their grasp on each other…their connection. "I-I have to report…you…"
'Gammamee was taken by surprise, he reached for her hand, but she pulled back. "You're angry…come with me…The Heretic Leader has a way to save us…We found the Oracle from the wreckage of Halo…he was the one who told us the truth…Listen!"
"No…I'm taking my son and we're going back to High Charity…" Lasha breathed, turning her back on the Heretic.
"Lasha…wait…please!" 'Gammamee pleaded.

In front of his eyes, Lasha and his son left him…and that was the last time he had ever seen them…

* * *

A single, solitary tear escaped Hydra's eyes, he stroked his eyes with a slight pausing. In the end he let his family go because he had to…He had no attachments, always on the run…
Even though it was because of her that the Covenant had invaded their facility and the truth had died for a moment…

"Ship Master?"

Hydra leaned in his chair on the bridge, looking to a bizarre-looking Elite in black and white armor. "Ralis 'Rahanammee, Hydra" The Repent Leader stated, bowing his head to his leader.
'Gammamee shook his pain away and glanced at 'Rahanammee, residing his Energy Sword hilt in his sheath holster.
"Yes…'Rahanammee…" Hydra swallowed, allowing his scales to swelter.
Seeing the grave tone on Hydra's face he foresaw a problem. "What is it?"
"Nothing, brother, nothing…" He said, distracted. "Let's find the Twilight…"

The Heretic typed on the pulpit console and searched for a Covenant fleet for a designated ship, scanning the stars for certain assault ships.
"Leader, we found it already…"

‹—————————————————›

Effectual Chastity
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Those who are Lost and Those who are Found

The Heretic Ship Master sided his Carbine to the bridge, verging his soles to the bottom scaffold where a series of terminals and crates bared open for use.
He passed a Gunner Grunt shouldering a plasma turret, squeaking through his rebreather daintily.

The Grunt tottered under the weight of the turret and toppled over, dropping the turret onto the metal plates to Hydra's feet.
"Aah…" The Grunt screeched alarmed, trembling in his green-clapped uniform.
The Heretic leaned to pick up the turret, handing it to the Grunt as he cringed to the Elite.
"What is your designation?" Hydra asked with benignity, he always respected the Grunts, when he worked with them on Threshold they were always the one prevailing right next to the Heretic Elites.
The Grunt quivering, looked genuinely relieved at what the Heretic asked. "Sayare…" He said, voice shaking.
"Sayare" Hydra spoke, gesturing his hands to the Grunt. "Whom do you serve under?"
Sayare looked confused, wondering whether he should answer or not. He pondered why the Ship Master, Hydra, the Last Heretic and highest-ranking veteran was questioning him. "Field Master, Skir 'Laddamee, Ship Master…"
Hydra racked his memory, he looked over his troops, and Elites, Grunts, and Hunters under him…He hadn't recognized the name. "Where is he, Sayare?"
"He died under your command, Leader…when you raided the Brute Encampments…" Sayare stammered.
He remembered lots of Elites under his command and lots that were lost to the onsets by the Covenant when they were imprisoned.
"That means you are befitting to the Heretics, and you serve under me…is that apt to you, Sayare?" Hydra asked, jointing his plates to his skin in patience.
"Yes, Leader" Sayare yelped, happily.
"You will be upgraded to my personnel assistant…Is that approving?" He asked, watching the Grunt trifle his turret on his shoulder.
The Grunt nodded, bequeathing the turret to a minor Grunt beside him.

Hydra knew that the Grunts were ambitious as they were skilled and intelligent…The Covenant was definitely regretting their exchange of hats made. The Elites being the guard, sortie for the Brutes was the eruption of the Civil War.
"Good. Follow, Sayare"
The Grunt closed behind Hydra, both walking through the trenches and platforms around the bridge.

'Gammamee truly felt unique, he thought as one being as he thought for the thousands of innocent beings in front of him. In his eyes the collective races derived from the Covenant and into Heresy were all the same…All were capable and had equal potential on the battlefield.
"Me honored to be here!" Sayare squawked, affirmatively to the Elite. "Where we going?"
Hydra cued his mandibles to his assistant. "Right here, Sayare"
They stepped into the gravity lift and they were impelled up into his domicile of platform. 'Rahanammee stood in the center of the scaffold, beaming to them from behind the pulpit.
"Whose this?" Ralis questioned, beckoning them to the pulpit.
"Sayare" Hydra perked, sitting in his headship chair.

The portal behind him blinked and released a center of dazed white lights onto their armor, creating summoning shadows in their diverse colored armor. The palisades in front of them fabricated a dense brilliance as the Elite's transcribed the bytes of letters into the main view screen ahead of them.

Hydra forked his utterance. "Connect me with the Council Chambers on the Marauder"
Sayare walked to the terminal in front of the projector and typed at the lights, the projector's center illuminated a spectrum and quickly revealed a white beam going on the screen. The Council Chamber was in view and the Councilors in the assembled rows.
"Councilors, we found the Twilight holding the Councilors" Hydra bowed quickly, inclining his sheathing to the floor.

The Ship Master hooked what he was watching from the viewscreen onto a private channel that connected to the Marauder. "The Twilight is adrift in space, we just received validation from the UNSC freighter, Crossfire that it is making its expected patrol through these quadrants…" He pointed. "We suspect that The Twilight is Brute-controlled from the disorderly hover it maintains…" Hydra teased, informing. "What do want us to do?"
The Councilors whispered amongst each other, hiding their mouths as they spoke in hushed tones. "Commandeer it, retrieve the Councilors at all costs…" They spoke, muttering to one another. "We are entrusting you with this, Hydra…Please get them…"

'Gammamee bowed his head and tucked his arms in obedience. The Heretic knew that the captive Councilors were probably being tortured marked for death or condemnation from the Hierarchs. Though the Hierarchs were broken and disbanded from certain…situations they encountered.

'Regret…To the hands of the Demon…accursed by the Prophet of Truth'
'Mercy…To the clutches of the Flood…the plague of the Forerunners'
Other lesser Prophets died in the Covenant Civil War…Battles that Elites and Humans held victorious…
'Pride…To my hands…'

"Yes, loyal ones…" Hydra soughed to the Councilors.
The connection detached and the viewscreen sparked in debacle electric hums. He got up from his chair and paced the bridge…glowing to the shadows scarring his armor…
"What are we going to do, Leader?" 'Rahanammee uttered, impaling his expression to rash and bold.
"We attack…"

* * *

Hydra treaded from the spectacle of his personnel troops, minor and lesser Elites, Grunts with Heresy colors exchanged stern looks to the Ship Master as he paced back and forth.
The Heretic tanks that were revealed into Hunters bobbed their orange interiors through their thick blue sheathings. The infinitesimal worms inside the Hunter's core, creating an annexed heart. They all warped their crawlers inside making their scaly necks wobble to the Ship Master.
The Heretic brought a hologram of the Twilight showing the inside where the hundreds of plates and scaffolds. He pointed to the locations in which the holding pins were retaining their tasks.

"We are to meet with our captive friends and we will take control of The Twilight. 'Rahanammee here will lead a squad of Grunts and Elites into The Twilight, they will clear a path for the second wave, which I will be leading. From there we will meet and rescue the Councilors taking a dropship from the muster bay, here…" He aimed to the holographic ship ahead of him to the muster area. "'Rahanammee will then set an Anti-Matter Charge in the Energy Core of The Twilight…And from there" He sighed. "You will abandon the ship…Any doubts?
His line of Heretics mobilized in front of him, coughed slightly.
"I see but one flaw…" The Repent Leader stated stepping forward.
"Go ahead…" Hydra permitted, downing The Twilight from the purple waves that held it. "You are a Ship Master, Leader…Shouldn't you be here handling the ship…from what The Twilight holds under her shields she packs Plasma Beams ready for demise…From what I have calculated we are helpless in space, and the only advantage would be of your doing and strategy…" 'Rahanammee declared.
"I see, Ralis…As you know the Councilors appointed me the rank of Ship Master but by the Forerunner I am a Field Master…" He expressed, clutching his heart. "The bridge will handle the fortification of the Chastity…"

'Rahanammee sighed, nodding his head to the Heretic. Hydra tolled his feet to the center scaffold, diverting his attention to the bridge assembly ahead of him. "To your designations…" He announced, meeting his eyes together. "My brothers…Take us out"
"Yes, Leader" They chanted, humming their terminals to the ship's engines. From the abode of the Effectual Chastity the contrivances and mechanisms rumbled to the consoles in front of him. The Effectual Chastity raised up with tremendous agility; the screen turned to the night emerging from the cove and into shrouds of fog. The carrier blasted out of the blockade, above they entered a cloud and proceeded rising. They entered space, and the ring disappeared below.

Hydra was ready to clash with The Twilight with full force, but he needed to use tactics and resources to prepare his wit. He scrutinized the devoid space surpassing him, the tracts of stars traced the empty frames with careful dust. High Charity hovered immobile on the other side of Delta Halo, sparks and stars dawned the space battles between the Flood and the Covenant, revealing auroras of beams shrouding the ebon emptiness.
"Leader, The Twilight is ahead!" The bridge crew announced.
"First wave under Ralis 'Rahanammee make ready to the pods…" Hydra avowed through the speakers. "Ready, Leader!" The voice of the Repent Leader pitched in poised static.

The viewscreen onward was flashed in dark violet shields, The Twilight streamed under the Effectual Chastity, charging her position to launch her cannons at his ship. "Go, first wave!" Hydra ordered, tuning the primary chassis to utmost trenching.
The Heretic pods riffled through the now violent air; Covenant Seraphs dodged the frameworks of the Effectual Chastity dropping permanent blobs of plasma onto the bulwarked shields.

"Bring the energy beams exigent to the rear…disable their shields!" 'Gammamee rubbed his armor in anxiety. "Yes, Leader!" The ridging curves of the ship bowed, revealing corresponded cannons. The cannons beamed a bright energy jointing the luminance together. "Fire when ready!" He beckoned, recoiling his hand to the arm of his chair.
The energy beams rippled throughout the glassy white shields, impacting a pure blue glare onto the lustrous buffers of The Twilight. The Covenant ship turned a enameled gray, turning from bright violet to a dark bound of white.

"The Brutes have turned their beams on us, Leader!" The bridge proclaimed twining the ship's every construct to defend. "Hydra, we have made our alighting in The Twilight!" 'Rahanammee yelled in inert channels. "Status, Ralis!?" He asked, inhaling deeply.
From The Twilight 'Rahanammee shuddered with the fire glassing his hide. "We've landed in the assembly bay…They are pushing us to the full extent, but we are striking the grounds…" The Repent Leader the fiery battles. "Onward with the plot…" Hydra stretched his fingers, cracking his scales with sweat. "Leader, they are countering!" The bridge oppressed. "Switch the Energy Core to full resistance!" 'Gammamee grinned, changing the moment of the environment.

The shields around the Effectual Chastity blinked to beaming white, tensing the wavy threads of energy around the ship. The brace of impact jolted the bridge, rumbling the lustrous cuirass to a halting glitter. "My brothers, keep the ship in Halo's space, make sure we don't enter High Charity…I'd very much like to keep the Effectual Chastity…Second wave under me get ready and follow to the launch bay!" Hydra got up, withdrawing his Carbine to his arm. From the bridge he briskly ran toward the launch bay, pacing his strides to let his wave behind him keep up.

In the plates below his feet he felt the rumbling of the Hunter's heavy gaits, walking to the closest thing they possessed to a run. The Elites and Grunts after him clutched their weapons outward, beckoning for a fight. Sayare followed closely near him, Needler raised for bloodshed on the Brutes. "We take boarding crafts to The Twilight, follow closely, there will be thick space…" Hydra ordered as they entered the launch bay. The bay's portal heaved shimmering shields while the boarding crafts roamed a sudden sheen.

The band of Heretics stepped up the sideling banisters through the crafts. The embossing wave that protected them from the vacuum of space shivered in air and gave way as they slipped into it. Hydra parked himself at the seat of the cockpit and motioned his troops to their strapping saddles.
Sayare reserved in the co-pilot's seat, tipped his head to the Heretic, adjusting his rebreather to suit his sharp teeth poking out.
"You don't have to be here Sayare…" Hydra said, resting his palms onto ebon toggles. "Me here 'cause me wanna be" The green uniformed Grunt chirruped, easing his Needler on the counter. Hydra nodded his head proudly, tagging his amplifier to the other 10 crafts freely launching from the bay. "To the first era of peace, brothers!" He triumphantly clamored to the crystalline speakers. Behind him the Elites shook their fists, barking in tune to the Grunt's screechy bellows.

His craft inclined in the vacuum, coming to a stasis-like hover outside of the bay. The formation behind him lurched in awkward space, tugging their noses toward the gleaming diffusion of The Twilight slowly and eerily slipping by.
"They have energy emplacements and Seraph fighters on the plunder!" Hydra raised his toggles and hurled into the cluttered space.
Fire and energy hurdled past them, nailing the sides of his ship with glassy glows. "They found us, feinting maneuvers!" He pulled backwards, seeing the nose and clamps of the craft skim a ray of shining energy.
"ARGH!" An explosion behind them reverberated and vibrated their ship. "We lost one of the crafts, Hydra" An Elite after him said, looking through the port windows. "Bless them Forerunners" He whispered, gripping the controls with an icy sweat.

'Gammamee twirled the craft in an aerial pitch, dodging a blasting from a energy beam. The Twilight's many engraving bays trickled a supernatural glare into his eyes, he marked it on his detector, observing the flagging emblem.
"Go there!" He yelled, sending them the mappings.
They fell into the space, seeping coolant fuel through their metallic conduits.

"Open the clamps!" He screamed, pulling a trigger from the ledge. "Latch onto the ship!"
His craft's fasteners clasped to the edging of The Twilight, the screeching metal touched the energy that protected them creating a invigorating bond.
"Come brothers, let's end this!" Hydra crawled to the back, kicking the plating and ignoring the white steaming.

It was truly chaos in The Twilight; having landed right into the arsenal wing the Covenant was struggling to maintain the batteries of all the emplacements. Relying on their superior Energy Core to keep them going.
Above them were ramps and elevators spiraling up the ceiling. An energy spindle was in the middle of the chamber; lifts extended up and down the spindle.
On the platforms were Brutes with turrets domiciling the illuminating chamber.

"Heretics!!!" They yelled focusing their turrets on them. Hydra was first to jump out of the craft, as many more behind him echoed war bellows.
"FOR THE TRUTH!" Hydra screamed, raising his Carbine to his head.
Reaching inside the violet firearm, Hydra nailed a Brute in the head with a hot projectile. Up the spindle the Brute fell, the energy dissipating the Brute in a dusty flash.

A spray of Brute pellets blasted Hydra, he keeled in agony studying the Brute that meant him for dead. He flipped over the floorplates, ignoring the sparking hiss that locked his body.
He focused his zoom onto the Captain on the platform, he stuck his blade through the torso of an Elite and he pushed his brother through the spindle, chuckling softly to the ashy remnants of the Elite sprinkling on him.

Hydra hurled forward toward the spindle, dodging fire from a Jackal Sniper perched on the rampart ahead of him. The Heretic pushed the Jackal from the rampart and watched it hiss away in a flash of pallid filings.
He lurched for the Captain, grabbing his hairy wrists and pulling back hard. Indenting his weight to snap the Brute's hand.
"Arrah!" The Brute gasped in agony, realizing he broke his wrist in a pulpy mess. Hydra pulled back his fist and impelled it into the belly of the beast. Knocking the Brute from the scaffold to his demise.

He raised his Carbine from the victorious battle, slaying a Drone from the spindle border. "Up to the spindle!" He screamed, throttling a Brute to his strength. The Brute gurgled what was left of his air supply as he threw down his Brute Plasma Rifle in a shrill cry. His Elites were concentrating their crossfire on the Brutes, compacting bubbling hot plasma into their thick and hairy hides.
Sayare was following his rear, trailing his Needler's crystalline spikes into the flesh of a Jackal ahead of him. From the Grunt's Needler a massive chunk of violet studs whizzed past him and into the fur of a Brute-Killing him instantly.

"Hydra, we have cleared a path to the Energy Core…but the Brutes are reluctant to push us back…" The Repent Leader sounded through the speaker. "Keep pushing but wait until we get the Councilors before activating it…" Hydra yelled, repressing his Carbine to a Jackal's head.
"Keep pushing the traitors back…FOR THE TRUTH!"

* * *

"Submission to the Prophet!"

The Brute's all gathered around the Prophet Councilor, kneeling in responsive bows to the saintly and feckless creature. The Prophet hunched his slinking neck back and forth, rubbing the skin-deep ridges that ran through his jowls.
A towering Brute emerged from the bowing assemblage. He groveled in front of him in a riveting sulk, clutching his chest.

"Dear Brother…what did they do to you?" The Prophet inclined forward, reaching his nimble and feeble fingers from his white robes and raising the chin of the beast. "What did they do?" He repeated, motioning for the Brute to speak in a more demanding tone.
The Brute stayed silent but glared into the Prophet's eyes, he removed his hand from his chest and revealed a scorching mark…

The Prophet gasped, keeling in shock from the mark embossing his hide. The fiery outline of the Mark of Shame traced the Brute's blood in a revolting fashion. There was no greater Heresy…
The Shameful Brute's brothers backed from the Brute in degradation, moving closer to the symbolic elements of the Forerunner, imprinting their great backs into the walls.

"Noble Prophet…It was the Heretic…the Heretic…that did this to me" He growled, standing upward. "Give me the right to make him pay…my reprisal and the Covenant"
The Prophet let his neck wither and shake in frustration and jeering, his jowls twitched and he stroking his snout to the shadow of the Brute standing in front of him.
"This Heretic…this Hydra as he is referred as is a durable foe…the Elites…readied with knowledge of the Great Journey and our strategies are moving relentlessly to their captured brethren" The Prophet walked away from the Brute, still toning his voice to the explosions outside his ship. "The Twilight will defeat the Effectual Chastity, but if the reports are correct of Regret's Unity of Repent Leader then the ship is in peril. Though we still have their Councilors…they will not activate the Charge until they have them, which won't be long…You have full permission to hunt down and kill the Heretic…but you" He said, pointing to the Shamed One. "Are meant for a greater fight…"

The Prophet walked from his throne of the bridge, overlooking the battle that took place. "Kill the Councilors…"
The Brute followed the Prophet to the pod wing on the oblique side of The Twilight, launching their jettisoned selves from the ship…leaving their brother's to die in a fiery fiery death…

* * *

"Leader!"

Hydra whipped around facing a spit of plasma fire from a Brute Plasma Rifle. He braced his arms together and met his spiked wrists together in an arching shield. The red fire brushed through the armor and into his skin, touching his scales with hot matter.
From inside his conscience he gripped his Elite instinct he was born with and pulled. He urged forward in a rampage…tackling the Brute with all of his strength and vigor.

His Carbine was thrown aside from the impact and he was left with his fists and legs to batter the Brute hand-to-hand. The Brute stared angrily into the Elite's eyes, headbutting the Heretic with his steel-plated helmet.
He whooped in a quick gasp, throwing his fists onto the Brute with his weight. The Brute bled from the hard hit, his snout covered in black gore. Hydra placed his foot in the beast's chest, sliding his ballast to the other side of the Brute in quick shifts.

From nowhere a blob of purple sparks impacted with the Brute in the head, exploding sharp and small explosions internally inside the Brute. He panted in intense gulps, talking his time to breathe slowly through his mandibles.
He looked behind him and saw Sayare holding his Needler defensively, shouldering the burden of Hydra's life.

'Gammamee nodded his thanks and bent down to grab his Carbine, motioning for his squad to move forward.
They were in a coolant conduit glazed in misty fog up to their ankles. The coolant hazing silted into their armor, creating a dense and foul olfaction.
"We need to get out of this coolant conduit and into the Holding Cells…" Hydra stepped out of the brass trench, reaching his hand down to help his brothers out.
"Leader, The Twilight is offering full resistance…The Effectual Chastity's shields are faltering!" The transmission from the bridge team gripped soundless static. "Bring full contact with The Twilight…fire everything!"
"Yes, Leader"

They stepped from the conduit and into an arching corridor, a hissing wheeze whirred past them as a pair of Jackals ran by, not noticing them from the conduit. They entered the corridor, watching the Jackals run out through a pair of slating doors.
The doors ahead then flashed and out charged a pair of Brutes and Jackals.

Hydra got hit in the head with an uncharged plasma bolt, and he registered his Carbine to the front, shooting the Jackal in the arm. Dissolving the Jackal's shields in a depression. His shields were cut as he brought his projectiles to the head of a Brute Captain down.
The next Brute fell in lucid blue Plasma Rifle fire. The Elite next to him cheered at his kill, and ushered for more enemies to come. "Any more?!"

The Jackals were blasted away with plasma, and the corridor was deserted from enemies. They moved on and came to a heavily guarded antechamber, the room had many levels layered upon each other, in the middle were crisscrossing energy transits. In the core was a suspended rostrum that had Covenant crates littered on it.

'We made it…'

A series of Brutes and Jackals were in the layers patrolling the brigs. They saw many, Grunts many pair of Hunters were locked in, the Elite Councilors were imprisoned high above the layers. Hydra indicated silently, to kill them all.

"HERETICS!" A Brute screamed spotting them from the highest layer. "KILL THEM!"
"Ignore them…Rescue our Brothers!" Hydra screamed, moving through a narrow ridging going up into a ramp.
It was raining plasma fire on them, behind him Sayare brought up the rear. Focusing his Needler, the Grunt shot a Jackal from the topmost layer watching it's body fall down to the wavy abyss.

Hydra zoomed his Carbine onto a prison padlock and shot. The padlock exploded in bits of electric discharging as the now free Hunter's stomped out, fuel rods blazing. He shot the padlock off a Grunt cage, all were freeing each other while Hydra and Sayare slowly moved up to the highest peak of layers.
Just then the Brutes guarding the Councilor's caging, shouldered Brute Shots…deactivating the shielding restraining the Councilors.

'They are going to kill them…before we even get there'

Hydra frenzied and distraught bellowed in pure instinct: "IGNORE THE TRAITORS, SAVE THE COUNCILORS!"
He sprinted for along the edging, excluding the fire that skimmed his ridges and the craters that imprinted ahead of him. As he traveled skyward the fire diminished quickly, he took half a moment to look down to the rostrums below. All he could see were Covenant bodies mangled in knots of their own maws.

As his squad won the battle below he was slowly losing the war…
The Brute Executioners sent into the brigs, clasped their Brute Shot blades to their chests, laughing as they moved slowly toward the Elites.
The Elite Councilors tried to tackle the Brutes but were restrained down by other lesser Brutes.
To his abrupt dismay his shields flickered away and dismissed under a charged plasma bolt from a Jackal in front of him.

In a quick jolt of heart he imploded forward and tackled the Jackal, throwing its body down into the abyss. He dashed forth, finally reaching the top platform.
Just as he stepped onto the top rostrum a timer floated in his mind, ticking the numbers away…

He heard the slow and loud tick and the screams of the Elites…

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Hydra dropped in submissive faint, watching the timer dissolve in failure…He saw his ship being taken away from him…he saw his mate telling the Prophet of Truth of his crimes of Heresy…He saw the Heretic Leader dead in his arms…

"Ugh" He gasped sharply, a Brute caught him by the chest and threw him aside to the wall.
Raising himself, Hydra let the anger flow through his mind…The anger that was capable of anything…
"Truth!" He screamed, punching the Brute in the jaw. He crossed his legs and jumped, kicking his armored weight onto him.

The Brute staggered upwards, just as he knocked him in an uppercut. The Brute fell to his demise, halting the Covenant from this chamber.

He kneeled in failure…the halting screams of the Covenant died in plasma fire…
Sayare and his Elites and Grunts wavered next to him…The failure was all his…

"I…have failed you…" He managed these only words, gasping in silent sulk.
His group lying next to him. "No you didn't…we failed!" Sayare squeaked quietly.
"Now is not the time, Hydra to be failing…The Twilight needs to be destroyed…" An Elite muttered.
Not thinking about anything but failure, Hydra spoke through the transmission in a grave and somber tone. "Ralis, proceed with the Anti-Matter Charge…"
He waited for a positive voice, waiting. "Yes, Leader"

Leaving the defeat of battle, they left in a Phantom Dropship all retreating as The Twilight blasted in profound explosions…

‹—————————————————›

For the greater good
Capital Ship, Marauder Council Chamber

The Council Chamber was relinquished and brooded. They all stared down at Hydra with beady and impaling eyes. The many rows of Councilors stood opposite of the Ship Master all looking fervent. "What is my penalty, noble Councilors?" Hydra asked, in a sifted tone.
The Councilors whispered amongst each other. The Councilor then spoke with a sudden compassion. "We understand you had no inception of their intent, but owing to your lack of dedication for delivering our brothers you will be stripped of accompanying troops. You're divided insight will clear your wrongdoing"

Hydra soughed in a alarmed gasp. He wanted to argue that he failed…but he felt he had said enough. He nodded his thanks leaving in dedication and passion that he did not deserve.
He unmistakably did not mean to falter his dedication. Hydra walked from the chamber with furthest gratitude, and grazed past a familiar Grunt. Sayare met Hydra and they started toward the hanger.

* * *

On the bridge of the Effectual Chastity Sayare and Hydra overlooked the deduction of his finest troops. The Repent Leader that served under him approached. "I will follow you despite this exchange, Hydra" He growled. "I have taken my cause with the Councilors and they have positioned me on your ship." He said, confiding his arm to his chest.
"Thank you, brother but no one serves under me anymore…from now I travel on my own conformity. I will be there when the Heretics are needed, when doom is nigh, and when we are forsaken by what is ours…For the truth and the Covenant…nothing else…"

Heretic Renegade
Date: 8 June 2006, 3:22 am

Heretic Renegade
Sky L
Eighth Age of Doubt
Prologue

)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- )(- -)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- )(- -)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- -)(- )(

Gala 'Gammamee placed a capitulated hand upon his mate, Lasha. The Elite's both turned from one another, realizing each other's sudden betrayal. Her glassy hazel eyes flared with abstruse tears, veering to face her mate, she bowed her head down and sobbed in her scaly palms.
"Lasha…listen to me. The Prophet's are false, open your eyes to the possibility that our once, great society is gone. The Brutes are succeeding some of our fleets and the Elite Councilors are suspecting treason among the Hierarchs."
The newfound Heretic rubbed a scabrous caress across his mate's skin. A tense, uptightness followed the smooth touch…

"No…The Covenant is everything we have built it. There is no treason, there is treachery, and amid the most consecrated Field Master!" She spat toward him, her aura glowed a symbolic toxic that defiled 'Gammamee's presence.
"Do what's in our child's best interest, stay with us. We will never speak of this day, this faithlessness again!"
The Heretic shifted tautly in his vermilion-colored armor, his labeling and steady judgement of beings scrutinized his mate more closely. She was the enemy…she was behind the disloyalty, the deceptions, and the countless deaths of thousands of innocent and pious creatures. The Prophet's have manipulated too far, and the denials of an indefinite amount of living things were the end to him.

"You can keep your Hierarchs close to you, when the day finally comes we will strike the Holy Covenant, and your lies will befoul the Forerunner." 'Gammamee gasped, feeling an unwanted anger enter his veins. His blood steeped a breaching point as he continued, gritting his mandibles together. "The Prophet's sanctimonious fault-lines end in my blood-drenched fists, I will feel the cynic's breath halt in my grasp…"
His sinister side ignited a fear inside Lasha, her eyes tensed in a frightened state and she flinched backward.

'Gammamee froze, he regretted his exhalation already. Unable to apologize he quickly sauntered out the padlocked door. The mauve plates beeped his dismissal, and he felt that familiar pang of remorse swim through his complexion.
Powerless to turn back and get his mate, to sway her to the right cause, he strode out through the corridors.
A solitary vision of his son, behind him hugging his mother floated through his mind. The vision of lost hope coursed through him and he sobbed his repentance and her unjust lifestyle.

* * *

The Heretic, 'Gammamee silently motioned forward to the Heretic Leader. His new bronze shielding glimmered in the Basis sunlight. The new armor gave him a new personal, a new bonding, a new purpose. He defined himself for a brief moment as a new Elite. The raw and very genuine flash of hope traced his smuggled armor and he strutted a hushed swagger.
"Gala 'Gammamee"
The gruff voice of the Heretic Leader confirmed his name and 'Gammamee bowed to his proximity.
"Yes, Leader" He responded, clipping his hand into a bolster onto his heart.
"Lookin' ceremonious…" The Heretic Leader chuckled slightly, breathing inside his rebreather.
'Gammamee nodded his head in slight 'thank you' and beckoned his mandibles into a pronged delight.
"How did your mate take your new conforming?" The Heretic Leader respired softly.
The Heretic foiled his expression into an uncertain lie. His face contorted into a mixture of anger and guilt. Without hesitation, or thoughts he quietly spoke.
"She…she has chose the path of despair"
'Gammamee looked up at his Leader, unsure of what to make of his declaration.
"I am so sorry to hear that, 'Gammamee." He stammered for the right words. "She will one day see the truth, and she will be willing when she does…"

'Gammamee merely nodded and bowed, hiding his sorrow in his intense black eyes. Taking in short, rounds of alien air through his rebreather, the Heretic staged upward, coming to the eye-level of the Heretic Leader. Pushing away the pain, he abruptly changed tact.
"What of our base, Leader. This makeshift camp will not make for shelter from the Covenant" 'Gammamee said, gesturing towards the sandy ruins of Burial Mounds.
The Heretics around him, Elites and Grunts alike marched through the sanded fire, some were conversing on the state of the 'Great Journey', some were discussing the concern of their loved ones becoming corrupt, and others were busy exchanging burnished plates of alloy onto their armor.

The Heretic Leader frowned suddenly, listening to the wind breach the provisional camp.
"The Oracle has informed me that there is a station orbiting the gas atmosphere of Threshold." He paused, pointing sternly to the red moon that whisked past the heavens and around the ruins of the Sacred Ring. "It is a colossus of a station, where the Forerunner's examined the Parasite-"
"-The Flood is on the station?" 'Gammamee interrupted, hastily concerned.
"Yes, but they are contained. The Oracle has educated me that modern procedures of him and his Sentinels are to keep the Parasites locked down."

'Gammamee cued his expression and made a look of pure loyalty on his face.
"We will be transferring there then?"
"Yes, as soon as possible. Our brothers have plundered a fair amount of Phantoms, Banshees and weapons to help us rebel against the Covenant…and they managed to steal this" He gestured towards a bare patch of debris in the center of the mounds. Above the rubble bridge was a Seraph fighter, floating into a placid hum.

The Heretic Leader formed out, and the Heretic followed. The peaceful reside of hope remained immobile inside 'Gammamee's heart, and he succeeded his Leader outside the base and into a magnificent yellow Basis nightfall.

Unidentified Covenant flagship of The Ravager
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Never more to go astray…this will be the end today

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Hydra, revolved to the Brute firing squad. The Elite's armor squeezed with the perpetual pressure of soaking red plasma, and he gasped weakly for air. His once dazzling crimson armor wore a battle-scarred displacement, his protruded clash spikes that rose out of his armlets embezzled a russet-color, his chestplates depicted that of a fiery war as well as his entire structure and appearance.
The war behind him and around him flashed a reality and he stayed in his consciousness.
"CEASE FIRE!" The harsh and blunt voice of The Ravager approached. The Elite sank his knees into the starry floor, reflecting the universe outside. The bestial Brute named The Ravager stalked his proximity.
The massive Brute was encased in solid black and white armor. The armor resembled Elite's sheathings and his wild and frenzied hair that was tangled and mussed inside the armor pronged outward in terrifying spikes.

"Do what you will to me…but I will stand my ground" Hydra muttered in soft sigh.
The Ravager chuckled slightly, fortifying his grip on a grisly looking Brute Shot.
"I wish you could have seen that pathetic Elite in combat against me, 'Gammamee." The Brute teased, juggling his Brute Shot blade up and down in a slashing motion. "The Repent Leader begged for his life…a likely coward…"

The blind animosity and fury that etched inside of Hydra released it's panic. His mandibles flooded in an incensed split, and he growled the restoration of his sanity.
"You will pay for that…"
The Brute's expression suddenly changed to a solemn manner.
"That's peculiar justice this is, 'Gammamee. I remember myself saying that you'd pay…"
Hydra's eyes widened in shock and he gazed upon the Brute.
"And you will suffer…" The Ravager grumbled as he parted his armor from his chest, revealing the Mark of Shame still burning in fiery furred-like embers.
"So it would seem…that we have something in common, after all, Elite" The marked Brute gnarled. "We both want vengeance…"

The two beings locked in a sparking lock, their eyes glinted with burning hate for the other and they broke off the glance.
The Ravager leaned backwards and sliced his Brute Shot blade upwards, Hydra leapt forward, adjusting his position and standing into an augmented durability. The Heretic grabbed the Brute blade and shoved forward, slanting all his ballast into the blow. The Ravager's Brute Shot propelled into the air as he tumbled downward. Hydra dived into the air, dodging the scarlet plasma that whipped past his face from the Brute Guards. He grabbed the Brute Shot by the handle and turned to the Brute Guards on the opposite side. Firing the four grenades into the 3 Guards, he quickly ducked while The Ravager took his footing.

"GET HIM!"

The roughing words echoed through the ebon chamber and Hydra soughed a solid grumble when the Brute Shot clicked a swallow of the new ammo. He slugged the grenades at the Guards and down they fell, leaving him and The Ravager alone in the deponed abysm.
Just then as the two spiteful beings locked another abhorred stare, a massive explosion ricocheted the abysm.
A slice of purple steel engulfed the chamber and Hydra could see outside. The plasma raid on the flagship took a slaving chunk of metal from the room, and the wind from the tropical Ravine could be felt from their position.

"Gala!"

The familiar and balmy voice of his brother, Alei 'Limoto rang into his presence. From above the outside, where a high and feared view of the Ravine was seen, floated a stagnant Pelican. The Elite warrior waved his entrusted sword in the crowded air. The ball-metal fire of debris clanged upon the Pelican's surfaces, and the turbines that supported it swallowed a breath of reduced slabs.
Hydra's Grunt assistant, Sayare clinked to the handle of the seat he hunkered in, breathing in the sight of 'Gammamee's and The Ravager's clashed battle scene.

"Come, my brother!" Alei shouted from the hold, leaping out to the chamber floor and taking Hydra's hand, pulling with his miraculous strength.
"I can take him!" Hydra protested, shoving his hand away, not needing the help from a friend.
Alei merely stood, gaping at the Heretic with rueful eyes, until a sudden disapproval flared inside the Elite.
"You cannot, 'Gammamee. Your strength is down…another fight, another war to win"
Leaving quickly as The Ravager breathed an introduction of berserking, they clambered from the battle, not retreating, not losing, healing, and that was what the Heretic intended on doing.

The close inferno of rage and love followed the pain of Gala 'Gammamee as he stared down the ship of The Ravager exalt away into distant space…

Pelican Identification: Rival 7
Ravine, Delta Halo
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Calm before the Storm

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-"Is anybody out there…anybody there?"

The instilling clicks from the radio transmission dipped in and out of Hydra's ears. The hum and echo of static was heard from the cockpit, as sounds of plasma churned past them in all-out war!
Gala 'Gammamee laid back, confessing his whispered sins and wraiths to his allegiant soul.

"This is Rival 7, requesting immediate assistance from any Heretic or UNSC forces…copy?" The human Sergeant, John Baxter banked his head into the terminal, sighing with petulant high hopes.
"We are alone in the dark, brother" Baxter frowned, gazing up at his Alien Brethren. "It's all I can do"
The Heretic tucked back into unconsciousness, clinging to the words from his allies gathered 'round him…

* * *

"How is he doin'? Baxter exhaled, switching through various frequencies for pulses from their friends.
Alei sighed softly, mixing a palpated powder into a metallic urn and carefully pouring it down Hydra's throat.
The Last Heretic coughed up purple gore from his trance-like sleep. The overwhelming pain had caused 'Gammamee to faint, and the perpetual pressure of anger and guilt from the past battle motivated him to blear out.
"From our last encounter with The Ravager…seemly decent." Alei confided, resting his Energy Sword hilt on the alloyed banister.

Baxter nodded his head in a bobbing understanding, registering the best from the situation he tried the transmission link again as Alei walked over to the pair of Grunts sitting next to Hydra's torpid body.
"Leader is okay…he always okay and we always win the good fight." Sayare perked from his green-clapped armor.
Alei split his mandibles in a "Yes", and he clubbed his hoofs to the floor-tiles. The floor then vibrated in a lucid blast and the sound of fuel rods resided his ears.

The Tebo Brother's blares from the fuel rods emancipated from under the Pelican's belly. Their clad-armor clipped and melted into the metal. Alei dodged his head out of the opening, and saw an entire fleet of Banshees, Heretic and Covenant alike fighting for control on the Ravine.
"Where is the Effectual Chastity docked?" Alei asked the Sergeant, seeing if he knew the precise location of the Heretic's vessel.
"Scanning…" He said from the cockpit. "The Effectual Chastity is vectored 3.8 kilometers from here…"
"Punch it then"

The wind whistled through the turbines, the supersonic booms of the Longswords that flickered by, trailed in front of them, blasting the Pelican with shaky bangs and vibrations.
The clouds lashed around the great battle above the island, shook away, disappearing with the many sounds of fire from Covenant and Heretic forces.
The ocean thrilled by, the floral reefs from aloft looked like alien foliage underwater, and the Sacred Ring's atmosphere portrayed a solace of peace, even with the war raging on miles away…

The Effectual Chastity's bulkhead appeared on the bronze horizon. The extraordinary tear-shape manifested into a solid ship. And the frequency of the transmission forwarded a "friend or foe" greeting from within.
"I am Sergeant John Baxter we are here with your Ship Master…"
The Effectual Chastity's reply clicked a "readied" accept and the Pelican, Rival 7 docked into the muster bay.
The ship was surrounded by many others, all prepared for initial backup for the battle ahead.

Just then the Last Heretic started shaking very violently, his head perched with dark sweat and his mumbling sleep-talk turned into a rasping wheeze…
"What's happening to him?" Baxter hurried to the bedside of the Heretic.
Hydra then dived into the netherworld of a visionary…

* * *

…

A broad dusk on a brilliant Earth skyline, the vista was keyed with thousands of Covenant vessels, each were gaped over a spawning chasm…

…

A tremble…a whimper…a moan from the abyss…

…

An upheaval ensued, and the humming and screeching from Phantoms and Banshees followed…

…

There was a machine-like clang releasing from the abyss, an enormous structure, elevated in 13 spires. The chaotic storm fired on the machine from the Forerunner, and a bright flash incepted a series of painful jolts...

…

* * *

"ARRH!"

Hydra awakened, winded and puffing his breath.
"Hydra…? What's happening-?"
His companions all had a sudden pacified look, slapped across their faces. Hydra beaded into the eyes of his team and watched as they all scrutinized fear and excitement from the Last Heretic.

"I saw…I saw…"
Hydra stuttered to gather the right words, the majestic yet appalling structure rising from the shockwaves of the Earth's plains…
He got up, ignoring the prickles of pain stabbing his right arm and his entire head.
"I saw…the castle of the Forerunner, the start of the Great Journey, and the end of the world…"

'Gammamee whipped around, eyes battering with tears of an infrequent amount of emotions. He looked upon his companions and hardened each face with breathless scrutiny.
Sayare looked confused, his rebreather blocked most of his facial expression but he could still see the concerned bafflement in his eyes.
Alei registered a painful expression, looking as if his face was scrunched into a daunted fear as he ran over Hydra's words in his head.
Kaskut simply looked wildly at him, breathing stable gulps of fresh methane into his mouth.
And…Baxter, covered in a careful state, his expression bore a sense of distress.

"Don't you see?!?!" Hydra exclaimed, stretching his mandibles to its highest extent. "It ends at Earth!"
Baxter peaked his attention to the Elite even further. "What ends?"
The Last Heretic, turned to his ally with a grave face. "The world…"

* * *

"We are entering slipspace, Leader!"

Hydra overlooked his situation over the bridge; the Elites under his command waved their hands through the galactic data charts, brandishing diverse routes to Earth…
The nose of the Effectual Chastity dipped into a shimmering wave of drowning purple and white, the trimmers of circles encased the ship and swallowed it, releasing it on the other end of another galaxy…
The sudden jump ceased quickly, the stomp of the vault left everyone looking around in a dazed confusion.
Just then an explosion echoed the entire chassis of the ship, vibrating the Effectual Chastity with everlasting convulsions.
"Turn on the viewscreen…" The Ship Master stated in a somber tone.

The giant sheet of alloy that stripped in front of them gave a weak flicker and released a breathtaking scene.
Earth was on the verge of destruction; the Covenant fleet encompassed it, every now and then firing salvos of warm glass into the regions.
"My God…"
Hydra turned to see Baxter taking in the scene.
"We were just here…" The Sergeant said, a depressing note in his voice. "Hailey is down there…"
"Where is she located on Earth?" Hydra inquired bringing up the planetary module on his terminal.
"Chicago…there" He pointed on the holographic globe that encircled the room. He zoomed on the stationary stasis of the city, the Covenant were not striking the western hemisphere, but were focusing on the desert where Regret first laid battle against the UNSC.
"She is safe…" Hydra reassured him. "She has most likely taken refuge in a base, or is entering another colony world as we speak."
Baxter nodded his head, looking as if he were about to breakdown.
"John, I need you, Alei needs you…we're all brothers here, we're a family and I need to stop this from happening…for us, Baxter" Hydra sulked, silently. "Can you continue with me, brother?"

Alei entered the terminus, the violet strands of lights blinked away as the Alien Brethren walked through the doorway and into the discourse.
"I will, brother…" Baxter uttered, determined.
Gammamee, Alei, and Baxter stood on the threshold of chaos, the Earth before them stood on the brink of destruction, and the one light of hope that seeped inside each of them, seemed to slowly illuminate.

"Go to the desert central, we will take back the grip the Covenant have, and we will make our way through the outskirts plateaus and outside the Forerunner structure." Hydra rallied through his offensive strategy. "Any questions on the matter?"
"Yes." Alei said, waving his mandibles to his brother. "I think we should best devise our army of Heretics and Marines into two teams, me and Baxter will lead one team, and you will lead the other and we'll meet up by this hidden structure in the essence of the desert." He finished in one single, solitary breath, inclining his hands to his holsters.
"A well-conceived plan, Alei" Hydra shifted, smiling slightly. "We will do that then, a team of Heretics will fight with me through the desert. Alei and Baxter will lead a group of Marines into the metropolis' ruins and we will meet up slope-side, here" He pointed on the desert's geographical map on the projector's visor.
"Let's get to it, brothers…"

The ranks of Heretics and Marines that were united inside the Effectual Chastity all aligned themselves with their leaders. The Marines shouldered their UNSC standardized weaponry, marking their ammunition with incited passion and sorrow for their homeworld below…
The Heretics flooded into ranks, the Grunts were echoing yelps of encouragement to each other, and other Grunts were padding their tiny hooves to the feed nipples that ran along the expanded corridors.
The Elites fronted their shielded hands into armory crates, reaching for their preferred weapons. Plasma Rifles, Plasma Pistols, Covenant Carbines, Energy Swords, Needlers, Particle Beam Rifles, anything they can call upon to relinquish pay upon the Brutes and the Covenant.

Hydra reflected his mind on the past battle, his brother, his most righteous Heretic, the Repent Leader, Ralis' Rahanammee…
The epitaph radiating in the turmoil, the white tomb that perched upon the forgotten ring now set in all-out war.
The serenity of solace that rained over Hydra momentarily was forgotten now that the memory of his brother was replenished.

'This is for you, 'Rahanammee. Repent shall live on, and I will insure that…'
He thought rationally, bringing the remembrance of the Repent Leader back to mind.
"Get ready, Alei for pod release…" Hydra clicked in through the radio, as his brothers perched themselves inside the Elite-sized pods.
"Ready"
Alei's voice was followed by a literal wave of static.
"Unclip them, my brothers…" The pods rippled through the air down into the battle arena of war. "May the Forerunner be with you, Alei and Baxter" He said silently through the connection.
"And you, brother…"

Desert outside New Mombasa
Ninth Age of Reclamation
The Wanted Man

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"…"

'Silence fills the empty grave now that I have gone, but my mind is not at rest, for questions linger on. Now I will ask and you will answer'

"Shoot!"

The voice was angry and distraught, the sound of battle raged the warzone and the Elite behind Hydra shouted again.
"Hydra, shoot!"

'Gammamee reflected his palms to the Covenant Carbine he gripped in his hand and shot. The particles that fueled the carbine, revoked sparks into a nearby Brute's head.
The Covenant monster fell to his carbine and he bled slightly.

'That voice…that voice was being said at that moment on the other end of the universe…I can feel it'

Whoever's voice that was, it had a tad tone of anger to it, fury that mulled Hydra. The voice propelled notions of hate inside the Last Heretic, and he motioned his mind to forgo the antipathy in the voice for an even greater loathing and abhorrence for the Covenant and their lying cause.
Hydra crossed his hands and pulled the trigger, the Jackal's behind his crosshair slowly disintegrated in the thick air.

The battlefield was a dispersed desert outside the castle walls of the city. There were many plateaus and cliffs that intersected across the gulfs of the wasteland, creating an even greater catastrophe.
"Push forward!" He inclined his back and jogged to meet a Brute in hand-to-hand combat.
Hydra readied a blow into the Brute's stomach, punching his weight into the impact. The Brute faltered sideways, puffing a large wheeze to gather air.
"Rawr!" The Brute grunted, tackling the Elite into the sand. The abrasive grits eroded his armor as he slid across the desert dune. His carbine flew across the swell of desert, and he staggered the Brute off of him.
Hydra took his greatest swing at the Brute in the head, and the beast fell to his power.
"WORT WORT WORT!" He clamored in a gruff voice, throwing his arms in the air.

The desert engagement frenzied into complete chaos, there were Covenant ships streaming across the bloody sky, Banshees screamed their sirens from miles away, Ghosts wavered their lighted engines and they licked the frosty dust with the violet noses. Shadows fluttered wavy blanks of plasma through the dense air, Brute, Jackal, Drone, Elite, Grunt and Hunter bodies were littered across the wasteland.
The battle on Earth was not between the Covenant and Humans, but between the Heretics and the Covenant…

Hydra raised his Covenant Carbine and imbedded a death patch inside a Drone's skull. He switched his salvo on a nearby Shadow that was antagonizing a group of Grunts. He focused a zoom upon the gunner; a particularly bizarre-looking Brute with feral white hair was gunning down the Grunts fleeing from the gargantuan Covenant Shadow.
'Gammamee eased his grip on the trigger and pulled softly, letting the projectiles zoom through his tightened palms.
The passion of battle incited the fire inside Hydra; the subdued peace that once dazzled in aura was now completely extinguished. All that discharged inside of him was an empty void of pain, he was now the corrupted adept of suffering…
Hydra felt nothing, he was broken, and he would never be whole again…

'Lasha…'

'Gammamee wept silently in action, the frothing plasma from a close Jackal whizzed into his overlaid armor and he gasped for air.
"ARGH!" He screamed.
Hydra turned, eyes glaring with tears of rage sprinted towards the solitary Jackal that was perched upon a jutted boulder. The Jackal expelled over the rock, backing away as the furious Elite zipped for him.
"You…will…DIE!" Hydra fired at the Jackal, the Covenant monster hissed in fear, backing away from the Elite. 'Gammamee tackled the Jackal, the shield diffused in mist, rubbing into his eyes as they tore with tears.
Hydra found his fingers around the Jackal's throat, he hummed an infuriated growl to the beast as he tightened his grip on it. The Jackal hissed in fright, yelping in heated panic to the Elite pounding on his veins.
"You will pay…" Hydra sobbed, feeling the beading heart bray into cessation.

The crimson Elite dropped on his back, his heart beamed with a constant heartache, a perpetual exasperation that dripped into his very entity. He was poisoned with the ghosts of his past, he wanted nothing but to sink into the Earth and die.
He cried, leaking tears into his mandibles as he beat his fists on the desert ground.
"Why…?" He cried, ignoring the plasma echoing down his ears.
"Why is there no good in this universe…? Why must there be pain…suffering…and death…why?"
When all hope was diminished from his existence, a voice called out into him. It was like a gathering of angels that appeared above his head, and they sang to him a song of hope, compacting all sounds into a voice.
"Go bold, men!" The sound of a Human Marine trilled into his ears. The voice has a sense of eagerness and courage to it, a voice he did not understand.
He looked up to see the Human Captain handling a Battle Rifle; he was a tall, long-legged man with a vigorous torso. The mysterious human brushed a nearby Brute in the head with a melee attack, and he centered his zoom upon a Ghost that whizzed by.

The engine of the Ghost blew in a ribbon of cyan torches, and the Captain leapt from the slab he was standing on into the desert sand below. He seemed to be leading a very small platoon of Marines into combat with the Covenant, and they appeared to be taking higher ground above the polytheistic monsters.
"Captain Elihue they have taken the mount!" A nearby Marine cried, as he rocketed a Banshee down in mid-air. "We must take it back!" The Marine with the Rocket Launcher pointed to a valley ahead, there were ruins from a fallen space elevator, scattered across the lowland.

The debris formed crumbling walls and tunnels through the gorge and up into the mount, all the Covenant was parked upon the single mount, overlooking something on the other side.
"Hey…" The Captain Elihue approached Hydra. "You comin'?"
The Elite soaked his tears through his brawly heart and concentrated on the strong face that bore in front of him. He nodded, thinking nothing but vengeance upon the Covenant, and the hope for Earth. "Need a hand, buddy?" Elihue outstretched his open palm, verging his Battle Rifle on his shoulder. "Thank you"
Hydra took his palm and helped himself up, gripping his Covenant Carbine in his cold, iron fist.
The breaking of the Covenant tricked skyward up the mount; the air below was slowly thinning.
"I'm Brandon Elihue" He furthered his hand again, and furrowed the rifle that was poled on his shoulder.
"Gala 'Gammamee of the Heretics" He muttered humbly, taking his hand and motioning up and down, mimicking the Human's motions.
"Kinda awkward isn't it?" The Captain sighed. "All this tension of fighting you guys all this time, and now from a little exchange of partnership it all changes…"
"Yes, I guess it is" The Elite grinned, looking behind Elihue to see the mount crowd with Covenant soldiers.
"Onward?" Hydra pointed the nose of his carbine and gnarled.
"Onward" Elihue agreed, backing to his platoon behind him.
"WE TAKE THE MOUNT!"

The war cries and screams from the Marines winded into the Heretics and they all followed the collided battalions.
Hydra marked his scope onto a Drone, firing his passion into the insect. A warbling squeal from the Drone made him relieve stress on the carbine.
The pack of Drones circled the mount, firing superheated plasma and crystalline arrows into the Human's and Heretic's bodies. Some feel and died on impact but others persisted to take on the Drones.
"BR!" Elihue shouted in the air. The Marines that carried Battle Rifles sounded at the Drones, the 3-round bullets pelted their stringy bodies, and they all fell into the sandy abyss below.

'Gammamee followed their cause and emitted several danger shots into a Drone's oily hide. The alloy-colored insect dropped in front of the crimson Elite and he sprinted up on the dune-side.
He sniped a berserking Brute coming straight for him, the dying gasp from the beast satisfied a hunger inside Hydra. The whetting taste of anger consumed him, and he gave in to the power he possessed. The passion he wielded fired its thick green salvos into a Brute's skull, and that honing whisper of war called out into him.

Hydra marched through a ruined tunnel, shooting his viridian husks into the felts of the Covenant. A shuffle of Jackals flipped through the open tunnel, hissing into the opaque lighting as they spotted the crimson Elite spit a wave of fury at them.
"Aiih!" The Jackals sizzled together in forming unison. Hydra smacked one against the side of the head with his spiked wrist, observing the misty shield evolve into transparent haze. He forked the prong into the Jackal's torso, and the vulture-like creature wheezed a dying cough. The third Jackal was a major, orange shield pattering in the golden sun breeze. The brilliant Forerunner coding that was etched upon the Jackal's shield bore a tangible coldness into his soul. He leaned forward for a quick and easy strike, but faltered as he was blasted, face first into a shockwave of heated plasma.

"Gar!" Hydra gasped on impact, his face contorted his shielding and his masking ate away the underlay of his armor.
He dived behind a piece of shrapnel; the haggard and staggered breathing disabled him to check his shields. From what he was feeling he'd estimate his shielding were half-shattered. The grasping sparks licked his structure as he carefully withdrew from pain. The cuirass sputtered a final wave of sparks and he felt the instant "pang" that meant that his shields were back online.

He stumbled back a breath and leapt forward from the shrapnel, only to see a flash of bullets zip by his head into the Jackal's forehead-a perfect shot.
"Got him"
Captain Elihue lurched forward, meeting Hydra.
"Good kill, but he was mine" The Elite chuckled slightly, and they both returned to the task at hand…

The Ravager's flagship, Pride's Delegate
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Night is calling…

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"We found it…"

The Prophet's lips pursed to the words in a tight and excited manner, the crinkled and graceful neck rose to the lecture and he prodded his next declaration with a cautious tone.
"The Ark of the Forerunner has been utilized to Earth…" The Prophet of Truth bore a sudden look of disgust. "The Humans have interloped our affairs for the last time, the Demon is still out there assaulting our forces, and the…traitors have betrayed us and the Covenant!"
Truth tucked a hand in his robes, motioning for more allegations. "And the Covenant demands their blood!"
A clamor from the crowds all over the galaxy…

The channel of Truth's sermon switched off, the gazing static followed, appearing as immobile pieces of starlight.
"Hmph…the Covenant demands their blood, eh?" A Brute Honor Guard snorted from his rationing of the day. He spit a puff of shredded gist into his marble-specked bowl and he swallowed.
"What do you think, Chieftain?" The Brute looked up at a stern looking Brute across the silver console.
The Ravager looked hard into a diverted furbishes into the table, his concentration wondered onto the question.
"I will taste it…" He pounded his cold-hard fists into the console, making it shake.

The impulsive reflex from the hit made his pariah-like inscription sting with pain. The Ravager groaned slightly, gripping the Mark of Shame seared into his flesh.
"Retrayus…are you alright?" The Honor Guard questioned, seeing his Chieftain bearing pain.
"No…" He answered after a moment of silence. "But I will be…"

The Brute scooted out of his hovering dais and stepped up into the white lighting, the consolation he sought required a swell of anger and pain.
He found himself in a dark corridor; the purple flecks of Covenant technology shredded his frosted armor, sending poignant streaks of violet darkness bouncing off his shields.
"He will pay…he will pay…" The Ravager whispered softly, his eyes ignited in a seeping of heartless fury.

Retraynus' memory collapsed before him, and he drooped into the past, the night he received the mark…

* * *

"I will kill you, Heretic! I swear on my life that I will kill you!!!!!!!!"
Retraynus' threats carried on into the somber gallery, the two Elite Guards that gripped him tightly pushed him through the columns of the ship.

"I'll kill him…" He whispered, the painful gasps running through him. "I will…I will"
The Elites ignored him as he sighed desperately in suffering. Just then the Elites shoved him into the muster bay, a wave of Phantoms and forked Dropships took a place in their musters.
"You're free, scum!" They spat, dropping him in front of an open Banshee.

Retraynus quickly got to his feet, channeling all his agony into a stabbing blow.
One Elite fell in a shower of blood…
The next weakling turned as Retraynus quickly shattered his skull in a crushing headbutt.
"Ahh" He suspired, the stabbing wound of the mark was growing briskly.

'Go into exile…never show my face to the Covenant ever again…'

Retraynus' thoughts of banishment anguished him, he wanted every Elite to suffer to their cause. He wanted the Prophet's to admire his prowess and intimidation for other creatures, he wanted them to hail his name, and…
He wanted to ravage every Heretic he came across, he needed to feel their blood seep through his fingers, he wanted carnage to battle carnage, everything that is dead and gone he wanted to fight…
He placed his hand inside the Banshee and felt the course stick, he motioned out into the night sky, residing his anger in the vespers above…

* * *

Retraynus' Banshee skidded into a defiant halt, the sparks flew from a long journey into the capital carrier designated as, The Twilight. He heard distant battle clanging in the distance, but made no motion to carry out into war.
He resided his arm to the Mark of Shame that he now possessed, he treaded weakly into the bridge, walking to see a shadowy tier of Honor Guards pass before him.

"Submission to the Prophet!"

The Brutes around him all gathered around a Prophet Councilor. The throne that hung in a stupor-like transit, beckoned the beasts to the Prophet's reasoning.
"Dear Brother…what did they do to you?" The Councilor wafted his nimble and weak fingers inside his white robes, urging the Retraynus forward.

The Brute stayed silent but glared into the Prophet's eyes, he removed his hand from his chest and revealed a scorching mark…
The Prophet panted, keeling in trauma from the mark embossing his hide. The fiery outline of the Mark of Shame traced the Brute's blood in a revolting fashion. There was no greater Heresy…
The Shameful Brute's brothers backed from the Brute in degradation, moving closer to the symbolic elements of the Forerunner, imprinting their great backs into the walls.
"Noble Prophet…It was the Heretic…the Heretic…that did this to me" Retraynus gulped in air, wheezing to the scorch that embedded his fur, he growled softly and stood.
"Give me the right to make him pay…my reprisal and the Covenant"
The Councilor's neck wiggled in perpetual thrust, coming to a frustrated state. He took a final stare into the heart of the Brute, what the Prophet saw inspired him, the anger, the hate that resided in him gave him a sensed satisfaction.
"This Heretic…this Hydra as he is referred as is a durable foe…the Elites…readied with knowledge of the Great Journey and our strategies are moving relentlessly to their captured brethren" The Prophet let his jowls twitch before speaking again, walking away to see the explosions echo in the distant.
"The Twilight will defeat the Effectual Chastity, but if the reports are correct of Regret's Unity of Repent Leader then the ship is in peril. Though we still have their Councilors…they will not activate the Charge until they have them, which won't be long…You have full permission to hunt down and kill the Heretic…but you" He said, pointing to the Shamed One. "Are meant for a greater fight…"

The Prophet Councilor and Retraynus walked steadily into the escape pods.
"Kill the Councilors…" He muttered to the Brute Guard outside the pod.
They both jettisoned outside the ship, leaving The Twilight in utter doom…
"Noble Councilor…" Retraynus panted, hiding the shame under his braying breath. "What fight am I meant for if not for this one…?"
The Councilor reamed balanced and vexed eyes into the Brute before talking in a hushed voice.
"I see a dormant passion inside of you, the passion to stop this growing threat from getting stronger…"
The Prophet reeled back into his thronged chair, his weak hands grazed his snout as he looked at Retraynus.
"Tartarus is dead, Retraynus…"
The shock of the Chieftain's death shocked dismay into Retraynus, his eyes grew angry and spiteful like liquid-hot coals like the fusion cores of vessels.
"How…? When…?" His fists quivering into the confided spacing.
"We just received tidings before you arrived…it seems the Arbiter has murdered him in the heart of the Control Room…"
The Prophet welcomed the darkening silence trailing over them both. The marveling creature that stood before him fired in cold-hearted fury…
"Noble Prophet, permit me the gratuity of Chieftain, Tartarus was a dignified Chieftain, his leadership prowess demanded vengeance in every battle, I can hold this oath to his memory…"

The Council Member sat back, rationing his thoughts on the Brute's proposal. He looked outside as their pod zipped past a flaming piece of Covenant debris, they were headed for the cultivation world of 'Impetus Altar', and a ruined orb of a planet located a parsec away from Delta Halo.
"Tartarus' courier to be Chieftain was a Brute named Betronus, whom was a companion to the rebel, Alei 'Limoto."
"Was, Exalted One?" Retraynus muttered, rage, once again seizing his onset tone.
"Yes, Alei 'Limoto killed him just before Tartarus was slain"
Retraynus' furor and fierceness made the Prophet cringe in awe. "You from here on out will be the Covenant's Brute Chieftain…"
The Prophet waited to see the Brute's expression, speculating the phenomenon before him through this beast. "…your task: Kill Ralis 'Rahanammee…and we shall see the identity of this Hydra…"

* * *

The Ravager leaned back into the walled corridor, his pale-white armor lighted in perpetual darkness. The rage and animosity that gagged inside of him warred on, the silent and personal battle between sanity and insanity took its chaotic course.
"He will pay…He will die…"
The extinguishing whispers of his voice shrouded an irony in his words. The task laid before him was still undone, the peril of Hydra will be completed…

Remnants of Old Mombasa outside New Mombasa
Ninth Age of Reclamation
"You want a war? You've got a war"

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Hydra and Elihue fought together to maintain constant hold on their footing. The Covenant was propelling massive mortar emplacements all around the desert and fortifications of the Earth City.
"Do you have a clear shot at the gunner?" Captain Elihue mumbled in a soundless manner, tucking his vizard face from behind a piece of debris.
"Yes, I'll take the Brute out" The Last Heretic followed his zoom into a scoped phase. His attention focused on a singular shot.

The Brute behind the mortar emplacement stood, firing diverse patterns from the kindling terminal. Other Brute's patrolled around the solitary mortar, plasma flicked across the desert platforms and were introduced as dooms to innocent beings while they were combusted into ashy cinder.
"I'm taking it"
'Gammamee treated his trigger in a rasping passion, biting down on the spur with his fingers, he fired away. The projectile slammed into the Brute's head, his skullcap flew off and Hydra tamed another shot. The gunner Brute fell under Hydra's fire, and collapsed, ending the everlasting plasma that rained down from the crimson horizon.

"Cover that drip, Soldier!" Elihue pointed at a Human Marine near a welling chasm in the ruins.
"What we do, Leader?!" Sayare tagged behind his back, his green-speckled armor grinning in the radiant brilliance.
Hydra marveled and scrutinized his surroundings, they were in a valley encrusted with fiery debris from the space elevator. Many Grunts and Elites stayed hidden in the pallid catacombs of the battlefield, the Marines under Elihue's hand revealed guns only to snipe random beings hanging Cliffside on the mount.
"We take that mount…" Hydra soughed deeply, residing his scaly arm inside his carbine. "For Heresy and the Truth…"
Elihue nodded his head to the idea, his masked face cueing his idea.
"ALL FOR TRUTH!"

All the beings from the valley filtered out of their hiding places, all were screaming sieves of warcries into the ruins. Hydra hummed his scope on a Brute, sniping the beast in the skull.
He wavered a flock of Drones down to the fluttering sand, his open arrows hurled into the insect's body and rained a dooming flame on all the Covenant that opposed the Truth and Humanity.
"Elihue! The Wraith!" Hydra bellowed over the crossfire between the two armies.
The odd teammates looked over the hill to see a gargantuan tank, mauve with pictorial steel edging it's way along the dune-line.
"Marine! Do you have any of the SPNKr left?" Elihue asked a young Marine, while shooting down a Jackal in bloody fumes.
"No, Sir. All out!"
"Damn…what's our plan then, Gala?" He asked turning to the Elite, hopping to avoid being hit by a wandering plasma bolt.

Hydra gestured back to all his strategies at destroying enemy transports, the possibility of hand-to-hand combat was the only solution here, clearly.
'Gammamee turned to see the stern Captain still looking at him, waiting for the tactic to immerse into a well-devised one.
"We need a distraction while I get on it…" He said, finally, tucking his arm inside his carbine's holster slot.
"And we can make one for you…we'll fire vainly at the tank until you get your window, Gala" Elihue decided, stocking a fresh clip into the abode of his Battle Rifle.
"Let's go…" Hydra crouched, climbing the side of the valley. He roughed his way around the edge, seeing a sweeping cataclysmic storm swing over the skies…the same one that was in his vision.

The wind whipped brutally at his tattered armor, the sand missiles pelted his skin like hard bullets and the gale sustained, growing ever more adverse and disastrous.
He saw the Brutes, Drones, and Jackals patrol all sides of the mount as he crept softly under a thicket of underbrush.
The Wraith was being controlled athwart the term of a swell in sand, straight ahead of him. The ire and peace inside of Hydra collided for a battle among selves, his lighter side came over him, kindling a wave of calm serenity over him, but the ire and passion that persisted inside fought to maintain standing of his footing.
"You want a war?" Hydra inhaled deeply, stamping his hooves in the whistling sand. "You've got a war"

'Gammamee bounded forward, his carbine raised and his stature glaring with boldness. The Heretic Hero leapt from the canyon side, and onto the dune below. He landed with a sudden "umph" but he kept the brisk stampede toward the dune.
He conveyed his trigger and impeded a projectile through a Jackal's heart.
The shield of the scout evaporated in the hot air, the Covenant surrounding him on the other side took no appeal to this snipe and they continued their patrolling, glancing back every so often at the ruins to see if their was any sign of movement.
He ran through the open gaping of the mound, crouching and rolling to see the Covenant's progress on the lookout.

"Go…"

The static click of his radio hummed a following tune, and the gruff voice of Elihue perked in. "We're starting our approach now, Gala"
Sure enough when Hydra turned he saw them re-filter out of the ruined valley. The Captain Elihue marked the Wraith with his Battle Rifle and he shot, ignoring the slugs of grenades being tossed at him from a Brute Shot.
The Last Heretic frilled backward, slanting his scope at the Brute and firing…

The Covenant surrounded around the Wraith, clamoring to the utter panic engulfing them. The Brutes fell one by one, Jackal after Jackal, and Drone before Drone…they all faltered under their charge.
The Wraith scattered blobs of plasma into the air, the inertial orbs of azure flipped around in air, crashing on the sand and sending waves of barrages everywhere.
Hydra doubled forward, his feet brought him the very basis of the Wraith. Without neither thinking nor hesitation, he vaulted forward and gripped the fringing of purple. He punched a hole inside the top of the Wraith. The hinged hatch of mauve ruffled out, exploding the slab of steel that was the hatchway.

"Wha-?" The head of a Brute looked up to see a revealed Hydra prying into the tank. The Last Heretic sprung his arm back and jabbed down with all his fiery might. The Brute died in a single blow; he lay immobile as Hydra stood on the slab of metal.
"WORT WORT WORT!" 'Gammamee howled, hoping that somewhere in the city Alei 'Limoto heard the cry of victory…
The UNSC Marines and the Heretics all gave cries of hope and victory on the sandy battlefield. Captain Elihue rose his Battle Rifle in the air and fired, the shrouds of bullets shattering into the air gave Hydra a fulfilling satisfaction…he did his role on the skirmish…

The Earth gave a whimper right then and there as the Covenant Armageddon rolled into a welcoming manner…

Ravine, Delta Halo
Not too distant past, Ninth Age of Reclamation
Drop a Heart and Break a Name…

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'Ralis 'Rahanammee…'

The name lurched inside of Retraynus like a personal vendetta, his brutal fury soared ever higher and he gripped his Brute Shot with more strength and rage. The designated Elite frothed a spitting spleen inside of Retraynus.
The Brute studied the noise and confusion of battle before him, the darkening bluffs of the island Ravine, clouded a harbored trauma in him.

"Hydra…is break-…through…" The static-like voice of a Brute soldier burned through Retraynus, his anxiety to kill that being made his blood boil with choleric haste.
'He will pay…' His thoughts supported the shamed mark he would carry forever.
The Brute cupped his armor, peeking to see the inflamed Mark of Shame emulating with his blackening gore.

"Do you have a sight on Alei and the others?" Retraynus dropped the idle click on his transmission, feeling the need to smash an Elite's skull within.
"Yes, Chieftain. They are inside of the slag complex." The reply sounded…
"And Hydra and the Repent Leader…?"
"Yes, they are very stealthy, but several of our scouts reported seeing them before they…"
Retraynus crackled off the speaker, he knew what the word was before he clicked it off, and he was nowhere near interested in hearing it, for the sake of his temper.
"Tek?"
Retraynus' Jackal guard hissed in, the gleaming orange buckler misted in the Chieftain's peripherals. The hiss translated into a scratching "Yes, Leader?" and he continued on.
"We will go through the Ravine jungle, gather your best Jackals and I'll gather my best Brutes…we'll take them by force…"

* * *

Retraynus tore into an Elite's armor, plunging his steeled fist into the heart of the traitor. The beating pulse of the Elite halted, but the pulsing rage beat on inside of Retraynus.
"Nice ravage, Chieftain" A lower Brute growled, slashing through a Grunt with his Brute Shot blade.
"The Ravager…" Another Brute chuckled, tearing his arms inside of his carbine and reloaded.
Retraynus faked a chortle and moved on to the ridging of the valley full of magma.
"Tek, do you see anything?" The topical Ravager asked, gripping his Brute Shot with vaunted confidence and bloodlust.
The Jackal disabled his shield, buckling the misty buffer inside his armlet. Tek scanned the jungle horizon, bowing his lifeless yellow eyes back and forth, combing the steaming valley and the gorge over it.
Tek hissed in alarm…
"We have defectors and cowards on the other side!" He snorted with authority. "Make-ready for ambush!"
"Drones! Forward!"

The swishing seethes of the insects soared over the foliage, the buzzing panic of battle rained over the invisible enemies and cyan plasma splashed across their bodies.
"ARGH!" Only the voices of surprised Elites sounded.
Plasma fire soaked through the leaves, carnage dripped into the soil and shrill cries were issued from the Drones…
Silence followed…
"Tek, what happened…?"
The Jackal leashed his eyes, combing his blinks into the jungle. He turned, gnarling razor-sharp teeth at the Ravager, revealing an empty simper. Tek clutched his Particle Beam Rifle, discarding it to his holstered weapon, a Plasma Rifle. The Jackal ignited his shield; orange planed the murky flavor of gore in the air.
Retraynus snarled…
"We go on! To the slag complex!"
The company moved quickly through the underbrush, scrutinizing every aspect of the outlining with hazy eyes of alertness.

They erected forward, scaling the valley when they heard the racket of aerial battle overhead. There was a violet Heretic vessel impending towards the Ravine, blazing it's beaming shells into several carriers, taking them down by one hit.
"That's his ship, Chieftain" A nearby Brute grumbled. "The one that got victory over The Twilight, the Effectual Chastity…"
The Brute's gaped at the battle-scene, their guns held high as if enemies would pour out of any corner at any given moment.
"Go on! Stop your gawkin'!" The Ravager commanded, smacking the back of a close Brute's head with his arm, lurching him forward. "Rise and we will cast down the Elites!"

They all jumped into action, poised for the worst. Retraynus rallied his alliance, walking through the gated padlock of the slag complex.
"They were here, Chieftain…" A guard muttered, peering over his comrades body which held carbine scoring. "Hydra killed our brother, here"
His anger was fueled and driven, he held his chest. The Mark of Shame held in, he conducted a rub across his marked self, wondering how he would kill the Elite…how he would make him pay…

'Killing the Repent Leader…that will hurt him'

The Ravager's thoughts tripped over another, his cold sins washed over him like the betrayal of the Elites. He tasted that revenge, now what he wanted, what he needed to persist was to feel the Heretic Hero's blood stop in his fervid fingers.
As he walked the dripping edge of that vision peered over him…

'A dark chamber…'

'A weak being huddled before him, blanking expressions of loathing across his face…'

'Himself shadowing over the body, looking upon the face that marked him for exile and shame forever…'

'A gratifying lash…'

'…Yes…that is how it will end…'

The Ravager crossed his concentration onto the battle ahead, there were quick balms of fire that etched the metallic plates of the slag complex.
Just then a voice crippled the static of the transmission, a voice of encouragement and power: "These usurpers have passed far enough…eliminate the Heretic and the Traitor and we shall see whose journey is the greatest!"
The destined on battle that was suggested by the Prophet, fitted their angry souls entirely…

* * *

"PUSH THEM BACK!"

The Ravager barked into the air, his Brute Shot raised for turmoil. They were standing on a broad skyline, a blood-red prairie on the island frontier. United Nations Space Command Pelicans skimmed the skies, Heretic Phantoms dropped important troops onto the fiery fields and the Covenant pushed back.
"BRING SERAPH FIGHTERS TO WIPE THEM OUT!" Retraynus ordered, firing his Brute Shot at a Grunt attempting a kill with a Fuel Rod Cannon.
The Grunt's azure blood splashed across Retraynus' new bleached armor, he ignored it and fought on.
He looked up to see a wave of Seraphs launch over the mountainside, they fired twin cannons into the underlets of the Phantoms and Pelicans, all were exploding and doomed as they made fervid contact with each other.

It was apparent that the Covenant would take victory on this field, so Retraynus lurched forward, grabbing a distracted Elite by neck and twisting. The Ravager felt the familiar yet fulfilling emotion of death into the Elite, and he moved on.
Retraynus filled his Brute Shot, bombarding a Heretic Ghost with his solid barrages, ravaging the Ghost within. The Elite driver fell out, clutching his blue-clapped armor with agony, he slid into the grassy ridge and stayed.

The Brute Chieftain made forward, diving his fist down onto the Elite and impelling his heart in contentment and angry bliss. The Elite's slow breaths of doom resided, straining a blast of vehemence inside the Brute Leader.
The Ravager scanned the battle; the Heretics and Humans were being repelled back to the tree line, just then he noticed a marveling scene unfold before him.

The Repent Leader himself was standing ground in front of the tree line…
No doubt he was separated from Hydra and Alei, they must have all split up to take this battle.
'A futile endeavor…' He thought, breathing deeply in ire animosity.
Ralis 'Rahanammee shouldered the traditional Energy Sword, his black and white crested armor fermented with Brute's gore, and he slashed the life of a Brute frenzying after him.

The Repent Leader seemed to be leading the tree line back into the prairie, his shrill voice growling from across the field, commenting orders from the struggling.
A shower of plasma and bullet fire wavered from the trees, an overwhelming loom of breaching points emerged into the scene.
The power of the comeback persisted onward, sending a ripple of force forward, through the bodies of the Covenant.
"Tek, do what you can to repulse these traitors from battle…this is my fight alone…"

Ravine, Delta Halo
The Past, Ninth Age of Reclamation
Showdown

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The Ravager marched into the arena, facing all his differences into the face of a single Elite. He stared down the Repent Leader, with a brisk and patient stride all of the Elite's worst fears were being realized.
The Brute Chieftain marveled at the weaving complex of battle…
The Heretic and UNSC air units pushed back at the Covenant, firing blanks of plasma mortars into the air, colliding all firepower into the skirmish.
The Drones that buzzed overhead issued plasma and purple crystallites into the bodies of Humans Marines, Elites, Grunts, and Hunters…
The insect's corpses rained down on them, dropping alloyed-shelled bodies in the air by ripples of sparks and plasma.
Jackals scrimmaged forward, crossing plasma into cleft points in the Repent Leader's battle formation, some fell and others persisted to the greater cause.
Brutes backed to find some room to shoot, besting their superiority over the scuffle with the Elites.

The Repent Leader was guiding them altogether, threatening a Brute with his sword and smashing inside, killing the Brute instantly. 'Rahanammee sidestepped to avoid a swell of plasma bolt from another Jackal, he slapped the bolt behind his back, dissolving the green burst through his branded energy.

The Elite bent over, calming his strike into a solitary blow through the Jackal's flesh, in one glorious swipe of his Energy Sword, the Jackal dropped, dead before it hit the ground.
The Ravager advanced onward, stridden to confrontation with the Repent Leader…
"Ralis 'Rahanammee!" The Brute Chieftain called. "You end here…"

The Repent Leader crossed a glare into the Brute's eyes, studying the anger seething out of Retraynus. He took a final glance, connecting his arms into the hilt of the sword and focusing, channeling the rage for the Covenant, his rage for the Brutes.
"We will see…" 'Rahanammee growled, hiking forward to meet The Ravager in battle, hand-to-hand combat engaged.
Retraynus met his fist into an uncrated belt, however the Elite stepped backward suspecting the first move from the Chieftain.
Hungry for the cessation of the Elite's heart, The Ravager hunted forward attempting a tackle at the traitor.
"UMP!" 'Rahanammee toppled back, tripping under the weight of the Brute. His sword flew in the air, landing on the blood-drenched soil so far away…
"Your nothing without your petty Unity…" The Ravager taunted, cupping his arm for a blow.

Seeing the expression on the Repent Leader's face, he backpedaled his fist, he struck a nerve…
The Elite curved his legs and vaulted skyward, motioning for a kick at Retraynus. The Brute held the legged spring in his hands as he poised for the worst.
Retraynus and 'Rahanammee collided in a spark of fire, their fears shattered in a stormy passion.

The shadows of doubt and truths battled evermore and ever greater, the Ravager ducked behind a punch from 'Rahanammee, he lanced his fist underneath the duck and grappled, bringing the Elite to the ground.
He restrained the Elite to the grass, taking his Brute Shot blade and holding it to the Elite's neck.
In the delivering slash the Repent Leader died his tolling body whisked in the breeze creating an even greater war and chaos.

"Leader we have Hydra in our possession…" The stagnant and rigid voice of the Brute guard purred.
Taking one final glance at the armored body on the ground, he responded: "I'm comin'…"

The vengeance of The Ravager was still undone…

Remnants of Old Mombasa, base before New Mombasa
Ninth Age of Reclamation
The Best Boys

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Hydra grunted softly as he sat down at the sprawling bench before him. The ruined city of Old Mombasa was bore before him, everything that was once referred to as civilization was now a torching sand hole.
A limpid palm tree flung itself over the crimson Elite, offering a dense amount of shade. The tree confessed an ashy pool of faith at the base of the bench where 'Gammamee sat.

'Rahanammee…'

His daydreaming nightmares brawled throughout his memories, he remembered the Repent Leader in his arms, dead and placid in peace. Ralis 'Rahanammee's twilight spiraled a toll, expressing a sadness and fear inside of Hydra…

'Lasha…'

Her remembrance rattled a blast inside of Hydra, nearly snapping with shared madness, and he fixed himself into a right state. In truth, she didn't see what he saw, and what he saw he still sees…he looked into what he saw, what he believed, what he lived…he saw hope. The hope that sieved inside of him trailed into a hasty glitter of sunlight. The beam of light that grilled into him made a tranquil settlement of reconciliation, and he breathed his first breath of renewal…

"Hydra…?" A utterance interrupted. "You alright?"

Hydra opened his eyes to see Captain Elihue standing over him. The Marine Leader sank his weight into the bench and sat, wondering the expression of the Elite's scrutinized facial demeanor.

"Yes…" The Heretic Hero answered, swerving his expression into a beckoning welcome. "Yes…I'm alright"
"Shall we move out?" Elihue asked, pocketing a glance at the Elite.
Hydra took a final breath before igniting his feet to move, he hit the ground with his hooves, feeling the course rubble graze under his scales.
"Let's go…"

Captain Elihue and Ship Master, Gala 'Gammamee walked out into the capacious yet dazzling sweep of desert. Sweat trickled from Elihue's studied face as he cleaned his Battle Rifle for the work needed to be done ahead on another battle, another war.
Rain fell from the skies, the cataclysm storm drizzled on, lightning lacerated from the heavens, lashing holes into the ruined buildings.
"Go Go Go!" The Marine Captain's voice lingered on to see the light of the burned city.
A thunderclap caved the sky, creating a cloud of dark in the core of the world.

Hydra moved forward, walking alongside of Sayare the Grunt, his assistant clicking his Plasma Pistol back and forth in a frightened poise.
"What going to happen, Leader?" Sayare stuttered quietly as the troops walked into the raining girdle.
"We're going to save the world, Sayare…"
They walked along the sidewalks, seeing dusty remains of Covenant bodies. Hydra also saw a pair of Hunters clasped under a brace of two massive slabs of doors, buckling to their alloyed armored skin. The Hunters bore bullet holes in their orange underskin…
"Yeah, sorry about that…" Elihue frowned slightly. "That was work of the Master Chief before he disappeared on that godforsaken ring…"
"Captain, he didn't disappear didn't you hear that he was riding this fleet in? Lord Hood reported it himself"
They conversed more, but Hydra didn't cling around to hear. He focused on the here and the now where his thoughts belonged.

'Gammamee patrolled the side of the sidewalk, until his Elite senses picked a hysteria from the drowning conversations and blowing dust in the wind.
"We have company…" He reported, drawing his violet carbine.
Hydra grabbed his armlet and buried it inside his Covenant Carbine; he focused his eyes on a drawing threat growing ever nearer.
"From where, Gala?" Elihue asked, also lifting his Battle Rifle to the silence.
"There…from that park" He pointed to a pitting dustbowl covered in tan ruins. It was sown with a panic around it, an ensuing border of anger beaded from the bowl, and he heard individual hisses.

"Make ready for contact, Marines" Elihue muttered in a gruff saying, his patch of confidence inspired Hydra and they moved onward to look inside the dusted arena.
Inside the bowl there was a ruined battlefield; hampered inside were Phantom Dropships, Pelican Dropships, Banshees, Longswords, and smearing bodies of any kind.

"There is nothing to see here, except death…we move on" Elihue ordered, downing his head to the bodies clouded in fumes of plasma scoring, he walked on, unable to show a flare of compassion and grief from an unreadable face.
"Wait, Elihue…" Hydra cuffed his breath, motioning to the debris littered below. "I believe there is still hope…and I feel I need to rejoice it"
Elihue merely stood looking bewildered at the alien. He scrutinized Hydra's expression, squinting his eyes to extract signs of guilt or pain but returned his gaze to find tenderness and mercy.
"Very well…" He sighed, now turning below to see the bodies below, incapable of anything more than a blink into the storm.

Rain leaked down from the heavens as lightning flickered skyward, the flashing bulbs of thunderclaps licked the dark skies, the Elite ignored this, centering himself on the smite of battle within the park.
"We came to Earth, this Earth to help our lost allies fend this threat from the planet…I was once a part of this threat, me of all entities have been a role in this Covenant…they ravage your skies and intrude on your cities, killing at will…now I-we will not stand idly by and see that old fool, Truth get his passage here, into the Ark…I won't have it" 'Gammamee finished filing a cupped hand onto his heart and sighing a moment's silence.

There was that moment of silence that beckoned light into each and every one of the beings that second...

* * *

"FIGHT! FIGHT TO THE LAST BREATH YOU HAVE!" Hydra consumed his laments and gasps, gaping at the despairing and horrible battle before them.

'It was disturbing and horrifying to behold…'

Hydra paced back and forth from the construed line that was his Heretic army, behind him legions of Grunts, Hunters, and Elites held their ground, solid and fearless.
Elihue steadied a pace beside him, ensuing encouragement to his now, scared-to-death troops.
Hydra took a second to behold an unrecoverable fight…
There were shadows of Covenant vessels that scraped the bloody sky; they flicked their ship's shields to the Marines and Heretics below, they all seemed to be drifting toward a "eye" in the storm that focused just over the horizon.
Before the horizon a indisputable and material Covenant army marched, war cries from Brutes, hisses from Jackals, buzzes from Drones…all were united in a breath under the Prophet of Truth…

'Alei should be here by now…' He thought, as his brother was nowhere to be seen. 'I am ready…for the Truth…and nothing else…'

The Ship Master, Gala 'Gammamee and the Captain Elihue shouldered the army in that sweeping breath that was known only as a 'sigh'…soughing his rage, his faith, his love, his concern, his compassion, his hindering strength, he channeled all those emotions into an unbreakable barrier.

'I stand for good against this evil…'

Signaling and gesturing the ultimate battle of their time before them…the best of the best sojourned in this army, good intentions and good hearts were welcomed as they gripped nerves for the war ahead…

'…The lingering fear is subsided…'

Covenant Flagship of The Ravager, Pride's Delegate
Present Day, Ninth Age of Reclamation
"Break those chains that bind you"

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The Brute Chieftain glossed his unshorn hands across the vitreous terminal of the Bridge. His Bridge assembly before him, commanded his every word, he enameled his Brutes under him and the authority he was built upon…
"Chieftain…?"
The Ravager turned to see a Brute Honor Guard clutching a portable spark of a device in his fingers, pinching to hold the device he handed it to the Chieftain. "It's an encrypted message from the Prophet of Truth, he informed us that it was for your eyes only, Chieftain"
Retraynus took the message, sliding it into the coaster inside the terminal.
"Very well…" He growled, ushering the Honor Guard out in a gnarled roar.

The Prophet of Truth bared before him, the creature had sparkling crimson robes on as Truth reached to tighten his jowls ere to saying word at the Brute.
"The Brute's have rose from the Covenant, we are all creatures who have seen heaven ablaze in our eyes…but the paradise of the Great Journey requires the ultimate sacrifice, Retraynus. The Prophet's have paved the way to salvation, dazed to see betrayals in our holy Covenant." Truth cringed and smirked while speaking on…
"The Elites have failed to protect the Prophets and in so doing have put all our lives in jeopardy…it is your responsibility to ensure that this salvation is made, Tartarus has already failed, what will you do, Chieftain?"

The flicker of sparks swallowed his terminal, and the Prophet of Truth was engulfed in darkness. The Brute was left pondering his next course of action…
"I will kill…" The Ravager muttered softly, his bloodthirsty action was plotted as Pride's Delegate raged to Earth's desert, right behind the excavation wave.

* * *

"We will go in together…Tek and I will meet up with the army here" The Ravager pointed on the geographical chart of the Earthy desert. "The Ark, we think" He hesitated. "Is located beyond this gulf, and there is a regiment of Humans and Heretics meeting us on all four's before it…our orders are clear and simple from the noble Prophet of Truth himself…we kill every being resisting"
His warriors baring the Great Journey nodded their angered minds to his cause, The Ravager motioned for them to head for the Gravlift and they followed, seeing the Great Battle before them…

* * *

"Make ready!" Retraynus barked, making certain that every warrior was employed onto the orb of mauve before them. The Ravager held his newly forged hammer, The Fist of A'Gla. He marveled at the Chieftain's mallet, it was silver with cyan lining embedded inside the steel. The Fist of A'Gla chalked a stalk of power, he held it and twirled the handle in his cold fists as he thought…

'This hammer will kill Hydra…' Retraynus connected an image.
'A blood-drenched Hydra laying on the ground of battle, plasma zipping overhead, The Ravager stood over his body, a broad smile emerged on his imagined expression. He pulled back on the Fist of A'Gla and felt the heart of the Heretic boil to a halted stop…'

His world rallied back together when the emitter on the Gravlift hummed to life, a bright light…and his troops glided down into the battle…

* * *

"Look at that, Hydra"

Captain Elihue was staring at a Covenant ship in the distance; there were gleaming specks of creatures that leaked from the ship and onto the battlefield. Specks of threats leaning to the lies and deceit of the entire Covenant.
"I see it…" Hydra sighed, piecing his familiar rage together. 'Gammamee had not forgotten 'Rahanammee's murderer, The Ravager. The very assassin sent to kill them all…
Surprisingly, Hydra unclenched his fists.

'If I am meant to fight The Ravager then I am meant to fight him…if I am meant to fight and win…'

The coveted screams from the Heretics ensued the war cries of the Marines. Approaching by flying from the stormy-central of the Covenant army were Drone scouts. Buzzing their shrill cries in the air, launching waves of crystallites and plasma down onto them…
"BRING THEM DOWN! BRING THEM DOWN!" Elihue screamed.
From a westbound plateau a Warthog ate the sand, flying inertial across the skies.
The man inside the Warthog scraped the turret into the insect's bodies, screaming as the other Marine drove him.
Elihue chuckled softly to himself as the Warthog crashed back down to Earth, along with the rest of the Drones.
"Who is that?" Hydra gibed, nodding his head to the man on the turret.
"That crazy bad ass is Lieutenant K. Woodword…" Elihue replied, still coughing a chortle as Woodword met up with them. "I was there the day he ripped the guts outta that Hunter"
"Haha - I remember that too" Woodword smiled, feeling his gargantuan Rocket Launcher, while readjusting the SPNKr to his fitting. "Who's this?"
"Oh this is Gala 'Gammamee" Elihue introduced the Elite, feeling the sudden tension from the killings his species had on each other.
"Hydra…" The Last Heretic corrected, extending his palm to the Lieutenant and shaking it.
"Well…we have more of you guy's everyday…I just met Alei 'Limoto, you know em?"
'Gammamee focused on his brother's last meeting, intending to see a great entrance like Woodword here.
"Yes…" Hydra suspired softly, gripping his Covenant Carbine in his front. "Yes, I know him"
"Yeah…" Baxter continued, bobbing his eyes occasionally to see the armies of the Covenant march ever closer. "Hangs with Sergeant John Baxter…hell of a guy, bit of a temper, but you'll learn to love his style…"
"Make ready, boys…" Elihue murmured, shaking his Battle Rifle to the clump of creatures ahead of him…

In the midst of the shorted conversation a flying mortar of plasma showered the starred clouds, lightning stripped the black horizon creating a shocking bowl of sparkles and brands.

'The battle has started…'

* * *

Leading the army of the Covenant into a single march made The Ravager glow with pride, he flashed his gauntly silvering of his hammer into the sky, seeing the Heretics and the Humans assemble under his arm.
He zoomed his eyes on the particles of beings hiking nearer and nearer, appearing now as larger spectacles of light.
"RISE MY BROTHERS! LEAVE NONE ALIVE!" The Ravager bellowed, belting his armlet and creating the whiting energy shield, making his vision fog in a haze of protection. "Break those chains that bind you…"

The creatures of the Covenant cinched war cries and sprinted ahead. These was not a battle of machines, vehicles, or weapons…this was true blood-lust and betrayal…

As the Covenant pursued the charge an erupting shake issued, from the cliffs a metallic machine appeared…
A Scarab crawled over the plateaus and grasslands; the shakier appeared creating massive tremblers of earthquakes and shockwaves as it stomped over the grassy plains.

'Whose side are they on…?' The Ravager thought, gawking at the war-machine that stopped in the middle of the desert…in the very core of the two factions…

His question was answered as the digger turned toward The Ravager…
"HERETICS! SHOOT IT DOWN!" He ordered in a blaring roar, trumpeting his channels in his radio to order a patch of Seraphs to bomb it down.
His army turned to shoot obsolete green wings of plasma at the Scarab, one Brute focused a Fuel Rod projectile onto the nose of the beast, managing to blow a crater inside the muzzle. The Scarab drooped its flaps and charged a ray of splashing energy through its snout.
"HOLD!"
The plasma collided, sending the Covenant flying from their employments, The Ravager held ground, jumping from a drool of plasma spit just where he was seconds before…

* * *

"Is that who I think it is?" Woodword hemmed his voice in liveliness, placing a grin on his face.
"Yeah it is…" The static-voice of John Baxter cut into their radio chatter. "Did you miss us?"
Also smiling Hydra and the others watched as the Scarab ahead of them ravaged half of the Covenant army.
Suddenly an alarm rang from the skies, Seraph bombers were discarded from a local carrier and they circled the Scarab.
"ALEI! BAXTER! ESCAPE! GET OUT THEY HAVE SERAPHS OVER YOU!"
The Seraph waved a trickle of purple steel around and enveloped the digger, it then released a pod of plasma into the balcony of the Scarab, crippling it completely in smoke and dust…
"Wha-" The static click of the Sergeant buzzed away, the Scarab fallen over, destroyed…
"Kaskut?" Sayare muttered softly, whining his Plasma Pistol ahead.
Hydra's senses wavered a thunderbolt from the heavens, and his anger foiled his once great seep of peace…
His face fired with rage and sadness in one daring movement, foolish and quick he tilted his hooves and sprinted headfirst toward the dust.

"TO WAR!!!"

Following him were tiers and tiers of Marines, Hunters, Grunts, and Elites, they rallied an arrow that shot into the heart of the Covenant like fire…
Hydra, leading the campaign saw a shroud of clearing from the smoke, seeing the hint of crimson flare against the sky.

"THEY'RE ALIVE!"

Baxter, Alei, Kaskut and the Tebo Brothers appeared unscathed. The rebel, Alei glazed the fire with his armed Energy Sword, hacking smoggy vapor to clear the crash.
Sighing a breath of life and peace, Hydra nearly tackled the Elite in a bearing embrace.
"Hello Gala…I missed you too" The sarcastic tone of Alei's voice trailed on, making Hydra laugh slightly.
"Shall we, brothers?" Hydra enclosed, breathing to feel his Carbine and the cold steel in his scales.
"TO WAR!!!" Alei screamed, climbing over the Scarab's ridging and launching fist-first into battle.
"The blazes with stayin' here" He spat, backing his modified S2 AM Sniper Rifle into his palms, encouraging Hydra to lurch forward on top of the spire-like crater of the Scarab.
"WORT WORT WORT!" He howled as Elihue, Kaskut, Sayare, the Tebo Brothers, and Woodword followed, raging screams of howls into the breach of the storm.

'The breath of battle was finally drawn…'

Desert Battleground before unknown Forerunner structure
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Final Plunge

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The Ravager tamped the Fist of A'Gla into a Grunt, smashing his bodily innards outside of his body. He reacted to a spin, clobbering his hammer into a body of a Elite standing seconds earlier to the deathblow.
His assistant Jackal, Tek sat perched on a jutted piece of debris, sniping the head of a Marine…
The hiss of the vulture-like creature made Retraynus' heart purr with carnage, he arched his fingers back as an Elite approached the Chieftain, trying to make a fistful blast of futile plasma soak through his shields. The Ravager aimed a casualty-strike and hit, completely thundering the skull of the weakling down.

The lashed violet ray from Tek's Particle Beam Rifle rang into a skull of a Hunter's orange skin, crashing it down into the fighting.
The massacre and bloodshed raged onward, spiking plasma blobs and splashes into the air with Gauss blanks.
Retraynus stepped into the bloody-soaked combat, already breaching the life of a Hunter, slugging his hammer into Hunter's armored flesh.

* * *

Hydra slashed his Carbine's stub into the head of a Brute's skull. He felt the ebon gore pass through his fingers, but felt entirely peaceful with shedding blood. The crimes from the Brute's have tolled too far, they have betrayed and massacred innocent beings of the Covenant, it was him, Gala 'Gammamee that was going to make them pay.

He shouldered a thrust into a Jackal, swiping the creature's neck and wringing it of life, feeling the dead pulse in his angered hands…
Hydra marveled his brothers, watching Baxter, Alei, the Tebo Brothers, Woodword, Elihue, and pair of Grunts, Kaskut and Sayare fight on into the early wrath of the battle.

* * *

Alei gashed a tense hole of doom inside a Drone, snapping the insect's wings from their holstered faults. The rebel, Alei marched a wave, intimidating a trio of shielded Jackals as he moved to sever his Energy Sword at them.

Mist sprayed in air, they all collided, seeing Alei jump out of the shield smog, unscratched…

* * *

Baxter abided, dwelling on the bunker of the Scarab. Hidden by the cerements and coverings that were fumes he zoomed his S2 on a Jackal kneeling on a protruded piece of debris…
"Gotcha" He breathed, scoping the Jackal with his scope, just as he pulled the trigger the Jackal's senses jerked, also pulling the trigger from inside the Particle Beam Rifle.
"ARGH!" The Sergeant cried as the particle zipped past and met him in the shoulder, barely making an impact.
He snapped back into sensation and turned, adjusting his S2 again on the Jackal Sniper…
"Your mine…" Baxter exhaled in gritted teeth, feeling the head of the Jackal pop in death…

* * *

"TEK!!!"

The body of the Jackal crashed downward, into the arms of Retraynus…
The Ravager's body hazed in difficult blasts of rage, anger, and grief. Hearing that one final hiss from his Jackal Assistant he clutched his Mark of Shame and staggered back into war.

Retraynus pounded his hammer on the ground, releasing a shockwave that devastated the life of a local Marine. The Human kicked up dirt as he scurried to his feet, seeing the monstrous Brute rage toward him. The Marine lifted his SMG, and shot specks of bullets across the Brute's pelt.
"UH!" Retraynus gasped as the bullets milled his hide, the blood from his overshield speckled back, cooling to release the white glow encompassing him. Ignoring the bullets he raged forward, attacking the Human.

The Brute Chieftain grabbed the Marine by the torso and threw upwards, sending the coward flying in a scatter of broken bones…
He grabbed the Fist of A'Gla and hammered on, spotting the Scarab outpost of the Heretics and marching toward it…

* * *

Woodword tottered to keep his footing straight, he was almost pushed over by a wave of ceaseless wind that knocked from the storm above. He limited his distance between a Brute Honor Guard and shot, his Rocket Launcher slamming into the ground before the Brute, killing it on the first smoking.
"OOH-RAH!"
The Lieutenant grabbed his smoldering M90 Shotgun, shooting an 8-guage cartridge in the butt, he spiraled back, kneeling and seeing a Jackal in a closed circa…
He walloped the Jackal in the back of the head with his Shotgun, feeling his pride and joy of battle kick in. His instincts sang and he felt the chaos unfold beneath him. Whilst the Heretic Hero and Alien Brethren were consuming the fight…

* * *

Captain Elihue cupped his arm around his BR55 Battle Rifle, waived a fresh clip of 9.5 ammunition inside of the Rifle. He bent the clip back and heard the satisfying click that meant his BR was ready for battle…
Reclining back on his standing he focused his action onto the Covenant, shooting the head of every being that moved, Brute, Jackals, Drones…everything that his triode bullets touched, it fell…

* * *

The Grunt's Kaskut and Sayare screamed around two blasting creatures, towering over them. The Tebo Brothers were providing the protection needed for the Grunts to blight plasma and crystallites onto a frenzying Brute coming near them.
"Nice one, brother!" Sayare perked, clapping a hand on Kaskut and continuing the fight…

* * *

Hydra dwelled into the combat stance, twirling his arms back to reveal a rafter of anger and peace. His mystic and obliging side clashed, making a fiery war of sorts. He soughed a cough of excellence as he marked a Brute for death, smoking the viridian projectile through his fingers.

'The end of the war was near…'

Desert Battleground before unknown Forerunner structure
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Finish the Fight

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The contention and struggle for the upper-hand clashed onward, Brutes fell under cannons and strafes of bullets, Elites gave footing under a stampede of blinding plasma mires, Grunts enveloped the battle, yelping as clouds of barrages swallowed them, causing blood to spill, Hunters groaned, straining their orange underskin to see the fight convey before them, they were snapped in anthropoids while a Brute rush devoured them in light blood, and the Marines gave their fights for glory, siding their faith, their world in each other…

The shards of broken bullets seized the scene, killing the Covenant. The splashing plasma stuck vital gore from the Heretics and Marines, killing them…
It was a battle of epic proportions…

"Gala! Look!" Alei 'Limoto screamed, killing a frenzied Brute while he observed the battle.
Hydra looked up to the skies, seeing an armada of Banshees closing in. All bore the Covenant marker of dark violet alloy. They were scouring the tide of the Covenant, side-swiping Fuel Rod Cannons down onto the unprepared Heresy.
A twin laser streaked down to Earth, coming straight for Hydra…
He dived, seeing the plasma melt the grass where he once stood, from the sky the Banshee flipped. The Pilot noticing that he missed his target aimed a better shot at Hydra from the aircraft.
"ARGH!" Hydra gasped feeling the plasma ridge into his shoulder, melting his armored shoulderblade. He felt his skin through the melted skim of plasma and he fastened back into battle stance.

The Banshee double-flipped, scamming the reticule over the crimson Heretic, he had seconds to move but plotted the best course of action as the Banshee underestimated Gala 'Gammamee.
"Oh I don't think so…"
Hydra focused an air pocket in the wind and bent back on it, feeling the breeze of change. The pain, the decoy of his move made the Pilot shoot a panicked bomb of alarm at the ground. The Last Heretic then bounded skyward, taking a Plasma Grenade from his scabbard and fizzing it at the Banshee's nose.

Hydra vaulted back down onto the ground, behind him a firework of a Banshee rained upon them. The other Banshees bombarded the captive wave of Heretics and UNSC, seeing the threat Lieutenant Woodword pulled out his slatted SPNKr and firing, sending ramparts and ribbons of flesh and steel flying in air.

'Gammamee watched his companions fight alongside other Heretics and Marines, falling back from the Scarab's crash site because of the overwhelming Covenant that pushed them back…
The Last Heretic withdrew from his pensiveness, realizing the battle-at-hand and coming to it…
He returned from the deep thinking and fought on, standing on his two legs to see the misty blood rise from the overpowering army.
Then he heard a fell whisper in the air…

"Shield and sword, Hydra…"

The dead voice of a familiar ally chimed into the Heretic's ears…he froze with fear…

"I am you, your past, your future…"

…

"'RALIS!"

The voice was a vesper of a rustling, whispering to the extent of a murmur…
Hydra's heart beat with unsteady intakes, trembling hie took the message at heart and listened to his inner voice…

'This is not 'Rahanammee haunting me' He thought, appalling his ears to the whispered voices. 'This is me, fighting for that peace…'
Hydra bore his hand to his heart…shedding the last tear he could ever suffer to shed…
'Well, 'Rahanammee…this is for you…'

At the disclosure of his thoughts a shadowed figure emerged over the horizon…
The drowning darkness of The Ravager appeared in his teary eyes, and he felt his peace extinguish before his heart…

'For my peace…'

Letting the breathtaking anger drown him, he picked up his Carbine and walked forward to a duel of the fates…
Seeing the towering Brute break before him, made 'Gammamee cringe with dismay, but he paced himself, letting the fury blaze it's way inside of him…

"Hydra…"

The grueling face of evil appeared, speaking before him with utter ire and animosity…

"Ravager…"

The two beings reamed grisly and fiery eyes at each other…
The Ravager broke contact, gripping the Fist of A'Gla in his knuckles, he swayed the hammer sideways attempting to kill the Elite in one slash…
Hydra bent posterior to the Brute, gliding his Carbine from behind his hands and shooting, back flipping from combat. The projectiles ladled the hide of the Brute, removing a half-spark of the white shielding.
"GAH!" The Ravager wheezed. The Brute Chieftain cut his pain and removed the agony; he mangled his hammer back and shot an invisible metallic draft at the Elite.
Hydra flipped backward in the air, his shields were disabled and he flew back, landing in a pile of rubble…

'Gammamee riffed up, springing to his feet and looking around-The Ravager was nowhere to be seen. He let his shields recharge, patiently he leapt forward and back into the heat of the moment…
Strong, he carried the burden of the hero…
The Heretic Hero would save them all…

The Ravager breathed an faltering wind, jumping back into clash with Hydra.
This time, the Heretic didn't back down…
'Gammamee lent his Carbine and pulled back, shooting The Ravager with the remaining 7 projectiles he had.
The Brute's shield was now completely torn, and he staggered back, stepping from Hydra.
But the Elite persisted…

Throwing his Carbine aside he tackled The Ravager, punching his jaw with his scaled blow. The Last Heretic modeled a vicious head-shot with his fist and pushed, seeing the black gore emerge from the Brute's confrontation…
Just then the Brute growled angrily, his Mark of Shame beating a readied strike and he rammed upward, hurling the Elite skyward…

"ARGH!"

The Elite double-took in the air and slammed his feet into the ground, feeling his shields splinter beneath him. The Ravager then from a sudden impulse, slugged his hammer into the Heretic…
The darkness engulfed him…but for a split second Hydra debated the agony with the support of his peace…
'WORT WORT WORT'
The war cry echoed inside of him, breaching his blood and seeping through his ridging armor…

"WORT WORT WORT!!!" He cried, bellowing to see The Ravager in shock, standing over his body.
He twirled his legs and snapped, cracking his feet together and kicking the Brute in the face…
The Ravager blinked, underestimating the kick made at his face, he riffed back and landed on his back, breathing his own blood. Hydra grabbed a nearby Energy Sword, realizing where he stood.
The Fist of A'Gla was left useless to The Ravager's sided torso, as Hydra lit the Energy Sword, hearing the clash of battle swallow his mind.
'Gammamee slanted a pronged tip of the Sword, relaxing his elbows and striking down, feeling the anger build outside…
Retraynus reacted, smirking as he grabbed the Elite's head from the close-stick and pulled down with all his might, propelling the Heretic over his shoulder.
'Gammamee slipped back, butting his head to a crack and feeling that satisfying click of status, the Elite sloped forward and front-flipped toward the Brute, never backing down a single blow…

Desert Battleground before unknown Forerunner structure
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Lucky Stars

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Hydra's nemesis staggered toward him, attempting a death-tackle but failing as 'Gammamee strafed to his right, coming back to the duel, the Brute turned, his face contorted in utter rage…
"Your faulty tricks will not outmatch me!" The Ravager roared, grasping a hug to his Fist of A'Gla and frenzied forth, swiping the hammer all over the ground, creating massive generations of shockwaves.

'Gammamee hopped, avoiding the blinding earthquakes that shook the grounds…as he jumped he dove abroad the Chieftain, shooting his Energy Sword into the Brute, completely obliterating the shields.
The Energy Sword stuck in Hydra's hand, he pulled back, leaning a slosh and raged forward, slashing Hell at Retraynus…
"FOR…" He tightened his grip on the hilt. "THE…" He watched as the Brute saw flying stars, bobbing his head to the beat of his vanquished heart. "TRUTH!" With one final channel of passion, rage, peace, desire, murder, and love Hydra thrashed a dooming slash onto The Ravager…feeling, knowing, hearing the heart of the beast die beneath him…

Hydra's had prevailed…

'The truth…is free at last…'

At the sudden murder of The Ravager the great battle died down, and the plasma that was ceaseless now stopped, gliding a peace into each and every victor…
"Alei…" Hydra sighed, unfiring his Energy Sword and beckoning the Elite closer. "We have done it, brother"
Alei's expression was lucid in fright and content at the same time…
"What is it?"
Alei walked over to a tired group of Marines and Heretics, seeing his assistant Sayare, seeing Alei's assistant, Kaskut, seeing the Tebo Brothers, seeing Elihue, seeing Woodword, and seeing Baxter all were looking out onto a breathtaking scene…

The monumental structure of the Forerunner was releasing before them, the storm picked up and they sat emotionless on the cliff side…
"Anybody up for a fight?" Baxter asked, holding his S2 with a gratification.
There was a momentous pause before Hydra muttered.

"Absolutely"

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