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Fan Fiction

Zan ‘Socromee by Hank Williams

Zan ‘Socromee
Date: 28 February 2007, 2:48 am

      Zan 'Socromee walked down the long, purple hallways of High Charity, heading toward the Council Chamber. Today was a special day. The incompetent Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice has finally been brought before the High Prophets of Truth, Mercy, and Regret. Zan was to be there as the Supreme Commander's fate was to be decided. Zan knew, deep down, that the Supreme Commander was going to be given death. He was the one responsible for the destruction of the Sacred Ring, after all. Even though Zan had fought beside him before, he knew that the High Prophets would not see the strength and intelligence of the Supreme Commander. Zan was quite disappointed that an Elite with such strength would be just put to death, after all he had done. It truly was a pity.

      As Zan turned the tight corner at the end of hall, he saw his good friend, Toro 'Admaree. Both Zan and Toro were Elite High Councilors, and were to be present at the hearing. Zan looked at Toro when he came close to him. Toro slowly nodded his head, and turned around and walked with Zan down the hallway, passing a pair of Hunters. As they walked, Zan looked at Toro.
      "Toro, do you truly think that the Supreme Commander truly deserves a fate of death?" Zan inquired.
      "Do not jump to conclusions, my friend. This is only the hearing, not his execution," Toro replied, confident that no blood would be spilt this day.
      Zan looked away "if you say so, friend."
      As they finally reached the council chamber, they walked up the stairs to their seat, which was near the middle. Zan went in first, followed closely by Toro.
      "Seems we are not late. The hearing has not started," Zan said, looking around the chamber, specifically at the Prophets on the opposite side.
      "Yes, just our luck, is it not?" Toro joked.
      Zan sat down next to another Elite Councilor who was preoccupied by the Councilor beside him. Toro sat down beside Zan. Zan put his feet against the railing, leaned back, and crossed his arms. Toro sat quite straight beside him. They watched the floor below them, waiting for the starting of the hearing.
      "What could be taking them so long? Surely they know that many of us have busy schedules," Zan asked, quite annoyed.
      "Do not question the Prophets, Zan, you know that holy work must come before all else," Toro informatively replied.
      Zan turned his head away from Toro "Yes, I am sure their work is quite holy…"
      "What was that?" Asked Toro.
      "Nothing, my friend. Just the rantings of an old, tired Councilor," Zan replied, quite calmly.
      "Yes, many of us are getting quite old, friend. But we must continue our holy campaign against the humans," Toro explained.
      "Right, my friend. Holy campaign…" Zan trailed off, staring at the purple ceiling above them.
      After a minute of silence, a large sound (similar to that of a drum) rung through the Council Chamber which silenced every Elite and Prophet in the chamber. Everyone turned their attention to the head of the Chamber, where the landing slowly raised up to the surface, with the Prophet of Mercy, and a hologram of the Prophet of Regret. Mercy raised his arms and spoke, in a loud, old voice.
      "Let the hearing… BEGIN!"
      All remained silent as the door opened at the bottom of the chamber opened. In walked an Elite clad in golden Zealot armor, followed closely by two Brutes and Tartarus, and his Fist of Rukt, behind them. They walked forward, toward the Prophets of Mercy and Regret and walked past the rows of Elite Honor Guards, stopping in front of the Prophets. All four knelt, and then rose. Mercy waved his hand, and the Brutes stepped back, while Tartarus stood off to the side, leaving the lone Elite standing in front of the Prophets.
      "You know why you are here. Speak, warrior," Mercy motioned to the Elite.
      The Elite slowly nodded, "Yes, I suppose I am to blame for the destruction of the Sacred Ring, but there was only one ship."
      Regret eyed the Elite "One? Are you sure?"
      The Elite nodded "Yes. They called it… Pillar of Autumn."
      The council muttered amongst themselves for a moment, and Zan looked at Toro, who nodded.
      "Why was it not destroyed, with the rest of their fleet?!" Mercy questioned.
      The Elite continued to look at the Prophets "They fled, as we set fire to their planet. But I followed with all the ships in my command."
      There was a short silence, and then Regret broke the silence "When you first saw Halo, were you blinded by its majesty?"
      The Elite looked at Regret strangely "Blinded?"
      Regret seemed almost shocked at this answer "Paralyzed? Dumbstruck?"
      The Elite shook his head "No."
      Regret thought for a moment "Yet the humans were able to evade your ships, land of the Sacred Ring!" the anger in his voice raised considerably, "and desecrate it with their filthy footsteps!"
      The Elite, feeling regretful for what he just said, tried to restate his position.
      "Noble Hierarchs, surely you understand that once the parasite attacked-"
      He was cut off as the level of volume in the Council Chamber quickly rose from the council members that objected. The Elite looked around him, who seemed to be worried.
      "There will be order in this Council!" Mercy bellowed.
      Then, The Prophet of Truth put his hand in front of Mercy, and Regret and Mercy separated, which allowed Truth to come between and in front of them. The entire Council Chamber quickly silenced itself as he hovered forward.
      "You were right to focus your attention on the Flood. [I]But[/I] this demon, this "Master Chief"…" Truth slowly and calmly talked to the Elite.
      The Elite looked up at Truth "By the time I learned the demon's intent, there was nothing I could do."
      The Council quickly began another uproar. Zan got Toro's attention then raised one of his fingers. Toro nodded in reply, the two remained quite silent.
      Regret quietly moved toward Truth and spoke to him, quietly "Noble Prophet of Truth, this has gone on long enough. Make an example of this bungler, the Council demands it."
      Truth thought for a moment then raised his hand to silence Regret.
      "You are one of our most treasured instruments. Long have you lead your fleet with honor and distinction. But your inability to safeguard Halo was a [I]colossal failure![/I]
      Just then, one of the Prophet Councilors stood on his feet and shook his fist, and spoke his mind.
      "Nay, it was heresy!" He bellowed, ensuring to be heard.
      The councilors began to yell amongst each other, while Zan and Toro remained silent. Zan shook his head. The Elite looked between both sides of the Council then spoke his mind.
      "I will continue my campaign against the humans!" He stated.
      "No! You will not." Truth firmly told him, which shattered the Elite's position.
Truth promptly turned to Tartarus, who nodded, and barked a command to the two Brutes behind the Elite. They walked up to the Elite, and attempted to grab him, but he shrugged them off. Instead, they escorted the Elite out of the Council Chamber.
      "Soon the Great Journey shall begin… But when it does, the weight of your heresy will stay your feet, and you shall be left behind." Truth explained, calmly, as the battered Elite walked out.
      Zan turned to Toro and looked him straight in the eye, as the Council Chamber's volume quickly rose to a dull roar as the Prophet's small pad lowered it self into the ground and the top moved over top of it.
      "Toro, I do not believe the Prophets were being fair in their decision," Zan complained.
      "Well, my friend, if you wish to complain to the Prophets, I'm sure they would be more than willing to cut your head off," Toro replied, looking back at Zan, almost smiling.
      "Now is not the time for jokes, a great warrior has just been sentenced to death, there must be something we can do," Zan thought to himself for a moment.
      "Nothing can be done, friend, he is going to be executed for his heresy," Toro said with a profound tone to his voice.
      "He truly fought with honor. He shall be missed," Zan said, lowered his head, put his feet on the ground, uncrossed his arms, and brought himself forward.
      "Yes, friend, he will be missed," said Toro with a slow nod, "Now, shall we go about our duties?"
      Zan nodded slowly. Toro stood up quietly while the rest of the Councilors began to rise and leave aswell. Zan stood and followed Toro out of the Council Chamber. When the last Councilor had left, the entire Chamber was silent, which was uncommon for the Chamber, as there was usually always something going on.
      Outside, Toro patted Zan on the back, who nodded, feeling rather down at the loss that the Covenant were about to endure.
      "Toro, may I ask you a rather serious question?" Zan asked, as Toro turned to walk down the hall. Toro slowly turned back.
      "Yes, my friend, what is it you wish to inquire about?" Toro asked, trying to sound friendly, but over doing it quite heavily.
      "About the Prophets. I do not think that their decision on putting the Brutes at such high levels is such a good idea," Zan looked up at Toro, "What do you think?"
      Toro thought for a moment "It is really not our place to say, the Prophet's decisions are final. The Brutes will aid us in our fight against the humans."
      With that, Toro turned around, tired of Zan's distrust of the Prophets, and walked down the hall, turning the corner at the end. Zan watched him as he left.
      "Fool. How can he be so blind? The Brutes are going to turn on us, I know it. And when they do…"
      Zan looked around the hallway to make sure it was empty before grabbing his plasma sword and turning it on, standing in a combat stance.
      "I will behead Tartarus and all his minions along with him, and I will do it by myself if I have too…" Zan then turned off his sword, placing it back on his belt, and turning and walking down the hall in the opposite direction Toro went.

Zan 'Socromee Chapter 2
Date: 9 March 2007, 2:34 am

     Zan took another step forward, continuing down the hallway, dwelling on what had just happened the previous day in the Council Chamber. He shook his head, pitying the fact that another great warrior had lost his life. As he continued to walk down the hall, he thought about Toro, and his inability to see through the Brutes. Zan could read them like pages off a book, and the Brutes really did not like the Elites. But no Brute would kill an Elite, not with the how the Prophets view the Elites. With clarity and grace, the Brutes will be weeded out of the Covenant society, and the Elites shall remain supreme over the other races, or, that is what Zan truly hoped for.

     Zan truly despised the Brutes. Toro, however, seemed to like them. Zan was usually angered by Toro's blinded sight when it came to certain subjects. It was truly a tragedy that Toro, who was a great and excellent Councilor, was so blinded. Zan took another step, and then another. Each step rung through the hallway, which was empty except for Zan. He continued down and turned the corner, to see two Brutes standing near a door. As Zan walked closer, one Brute pushed him, and growled.
      "Step back, Elite, this is a private chamber," the Brute snarled.
      "Yes, like my most persistent desire was to enter this very room that you two were standing here, guarding. Don't touch me," Zan said, his anger showing in his eyes.
      "Are you scared, Elite? Don't want me touching you?" the Brute grinned at him, his sharp teeth showing.
      "Scared? Of a smelly beast like you? Never. I'm a Councilor. I create fear in our enemies," Zan explained, ensuring his authority.
      "OUR enemies? You make it seem like we're fighting the same war," the Brute laughed.
      "What are you, stupid? Yes, our enemies. We are fighting the same war," Zan said, surprised at the Brute's stupidity.
      "War? It's more of a slaughter than anything. Neither the heretics nor the humans can stand against the might of the Brutes," the Brute said, feeling proud and pounding a fist on his chest.
      "WHAT!? Might of the Brutes? You know that there ARE other races in the covenant, right?" Zan looked at the Brute, who looked quite dumb-founded.
      "Not as far as the Prophets are concerned," The Brute grinned again.
      "What? The Prophets would not trust the Elites on such an important mission of killing the Heretics if they thought the Brutes were better, nor would we be their guards," Zan explained, staring at the Brute.
      "You didn't hear? The Prophet of Regret was killed this morning, by the Demon. The Prophet of Truth has decreed that the Elites are unable to protect them properly. The greatest Brute warriors are replacing them as we speak," The Brute said, almost laughing at Zan's lack of knowledge.
     Zan stood there, staring at the Brute. He was dumb-founded. He could not believe that the prophets would so quickly change the Royal Guard. Zan glared at the Brute, who stood there, smiling at him. Zan let out a low growl, turned, and started walking down the hallway, passing the second Brute. He would not believe the lies of the Brute. As Zan walked away, he could hear the Brutes talking.
      "Stupid Elites. They're all fools. The Brutes are the true warriors of the Covenant," said the first.
      The second let out a growl of agreement. Zan shook his head and continued walking. He would speak to the noble Prophet of Truth about this lie, and see that the Brute is stripped of his rank. What Zan didn't understand is why he was not informed sooner of Regret's demise. He had been awake for quite a while, and usually Councilors are the first to be informed, especially for something as important as that. Zan was angry, and he was going to make sure that Truth knew that.

      When Zan arrived at the entrance to the Sacred Chamber of the Hierarchs, he saw the Royal Guard, but not what he hoped to see. Brutes in Royal Guard armor, with saddened Elites giving up the armor. Many Elites were walking away, severely struck by this blow. Zan looked at one who passed him by, and he looked up at Zan, and shook his head, looking down again and walking past him. Zan sighed and continued up the walkway, past the new Royal Guards, into the Sacred Chamber. There were the Prophets of Truth and Mercy, staring out the large window, at the second Sacred Ring that they had just arrived at the night prior. When Zan entered Truth and Mercy turned around to see him.
      "Ah, Councilor 'Socromee, was there something you required?" Truth asked, looking at him.
      "Yes, Noble Hierarchs. I am curious as to know why I was not informed of the murder of the Prophet of Regret as soon as it happened," Zan questioned, rather angrily, but trying his hardest not to show it.
      "Well, times are truly changing, Councilor, and we can not completely keep pace with all the events that are going on. We are sorry that we could not inform you sooner, but we have many things to attend too, including the changing of the guard, and the assigning of the new Arbiter," Truth replied to his question.
      "That I also do not understand. We have always protected you – why do you change so suddenly? And now?" Zan asked, getting even more irritated.
      "Because it is obvious that the Elites can not protect us. Besides, change can truly be a good thing. Look at it this way, now you'll have more competent protectors," Truth smiled at him.
      Zan looked shocked at his statement. He did not see this reply coming.
      "How can you say that, Noble Hierarch? With the Demon on the loose, can we really afford such a major change? The rest of the Council will not be ok with this, as I certainly am not," Zan stated, crossing his arms and standing up straight.
      Truth looked Zan straight in the eye, striking fear into him. Zan lowered his arms and looked at Truth.
      "Councilor, we have sent the Arbiter to retrieve the Sacred Icon. We will begin the Great Journey very soon. Until then, we must ensure that no more die. With the loss of a Prophet, the Demon has struck a great blow to the Covenant. We must ensure that another does not die," Truth turned to Mercy, who had been watching this whole time.
      "The Brutes will replace the Elites until further notice, and that is our final choice," Mercy said sternly.
      "And the final stages of the Great Journey will take place very soon, and here comes Tartarus," Truth said as Tartarus came through the door.
      Zan turned around to face Tartarus, who nodded to him. Zan nodded back.
      "I have dropped the Arbiter off to pick up the Sacred Icon. Shall we… initiate the next phase?" asked Tartarus while kneeling.
      Truth thought for a moment, and then waved his hand. Zan watched, squinting his eyes. Tartarus smiled, nodded, and stood up. He turned to face Zan, nodded and walked out. Zan watched him leave, and as the door closed behind him, Tartarus grunted to the two Brutes outside the Sacred Chamber. When the door shut, it quickly opened again, as the two Brutes walked inside, carrying their Royal Guard staffs. Zan looked at Truth.
      "What is going on, Noble Hierarch?" Zan asked as he looked at the two Brutes.
      "We have finally decided to initiate the final stage of the Great Journey," Truth said, slowly backing away with Mercy.
      "And what might that be?" Zan asked, getting nervous.
      "The greatest plan ever conceived by any Prophet…" Truth said, raising his left hand, and motioning to the two Brutes who were a few feet behind Zan.
      "And that plan is?" Zan asked, angered and annoyed as well as nervous.
      Truth eyed Zan and smiled at him.
      "Taking the Elites…" he motioned once more to the Brutes. "OUT of the picture,"
      The Brutes closed in on Zan, who looked at Truth. Zan almost smiled.
      "Your plan has a flaw, Truth," he said, looking straight at him.
      "Oh? And what might that be?" Truth asked him.
      The Brutes closed in on Zan, and were about to attack him with their staffs, but Zan was faster and spun around, grabbing his Plasma Sword, turning it on and leaping forward, between the two Brutes, and swung it forward through the first Brute's torso, cutting him in half. Zan then quickly spun around to face the Prophets while cutting the Brute in half, spraying blood across the Sacred Chamber. He kneeled with his arms spread out, and looking at the Prophets. He stood up, as Truth and Mercy watched him intently, waiting for his answer to the question.
      "You forgot to factor in your deaths!" Zan said, pointing his sword at the two Prophets.

Zan 'Socromee
Date: 16 March 2007, 3:32 am

       Truth smiled at Zan, as Mercy slowly hovered behind him. Zan stared at Truth as he raised a hand and pressed a single key on his seat. Zan knew immediately what he was doing, and jumped out of the way as two orange lines of heat spewed toward Zan, exiting from Truth's chair. As he jumped, the two lines moved past him and hit the wall behind him. Zan rolled and quickly jumped up to face the Prophets as Truth turned. The lines had left a very large scorch mark on the wall, and several drops of melted metal fell to the floor. Zan stared straight at Truth, who continued to smile, and squinted his eyes. Truth slowly hovered backwards, with Mercy behind him.
       "While we transcend on the pathway to the Great Journey, the Elites and all that who follow them shall not come with us, and nor will you, Councilor. You will not leave this city alive. None of you will," Truth spoke, his words traveling around the room as he hovered backwards.
       Truth and Mercy stopped in the center of the Sacred Chamber.
       "You do not know what you are setting in motion! Millions will die! Why do you curse the Holy Covenant? The humans are our enemies! Not each other!" Zan said, attempting to sway Truth.
       "You know nothing of the Great Journey, Councilor. None of you do. These days, all we're doing now is fighting the humans. We are not concentrating on what NEEDS to be done, and THAT is heading on the path to salvation!" Mercy said, hovering forward, and raising his fist.
       Zan stood there, looking at them for a second. "The Great Journey is a lie, isn't it? This was the plan all along. To tear the Covenant in two. And while the two parts were fighting, you would put your final piece into place," he said, staring at the Prophets.
       "Councilor, you do not understand. No one does. The Great Journey must continue, at any cost, and right now, that cost is the lives of the Elites. Good bye," Truth floated back another foot, with Mercy behind him. Suddenly, the floor opened and the two Prophets dropped, with two other pieces of floor folding over the hole.
       They were gone, just like that. Zan stood there, looking at the spot where the two traitors had just been. He clenched his fist and turned off his Plasma Sword, placing it back on his belt. As he turned to the door, he shook his head.
       "There they were… they were in my grasp… so close… I could smell their deaths approaching. But they escaped," Zan sighed.
       Suddenly, he turned his entire body around and slammed his fist into the wall. His knuckles cracked and the hardened metal dented under his powerful display of anger. Zan raised his head, bent his knees, opened his arms and roared loudly, his roar echoing around the very tall Sacred Chamber. Again, he shook his head and stood straight. Turning back toward the door, he looked up and stared at it for a few seconds, before slowly moving toward it. As he moved, each foot clanging and the sound echoed around the room. He grabbed his Plasma Sword, and ignited it with a flick of his wrist. When he reached the door, he placed his hand on it, dragging it slowly and softly down.
       "Locked. Truth knew what would happen the whole time," Zan said as looked up and down the large door.
       He stepped back and thought for a moment, looking down at the floor. Zan turned around to examine the room for something for him to use to get through. He had to rescue his fellow Councilors, especially Toro. Toro was all Zan had left to call a friend now. He looked down at his ignited Plasma Sword. Zan smiled, and threw his arm back, then thrust it at the door. The hot plasma cut through the door like a hot knife through butter. However, Zan really had to force it to get through the entire door, before forcing it downward to cut the door. When Zan had reached the floor, he pulled the sword out, and then brought up his leg, and kicked the door where it was cut. With no effect, he kicked it again, then again, and again until the door finally bent and made a hole large enough for Zan to crawl through, and crawl he did. He got on his knees and put his Plasma Sword away, and then crawled through the small hole at the bottom of the door. When he got through, he stood up quickly, pulling out and igniting his Plasma Sword. He has standing in the Council Chamber. To his disappointment, there were both Brute Honor Guards and Elite Councilor bodies littering the area. However, Zan happily counted a 2:1 ratio, in the Elite's favour. Zan nodded his head happily, knowing at least that the Councilors were not going out without a fight. As he stood there, admiring his fellow warriors, the door opened at the end of the chamber and in walked six Brutes, two with Carbines and the other four with Brute Plasma Rifles. They pointed their weapons at Zan, who stood in a combat stance the second they entered. As they stood in silence, suddenly one of the Brutes with a Plasma Rifle stumbled forward, having been pushed by Tartarus. Tartarus walked forward, in between Zan and the Brutes. Zan glared at Tartarus, who laughed.
       "Glaring will do you no good now, Elite," Tartarus spoke, his voice surrounding Zan.
       "If you think I'm afraid of you and your worthless warriors, then you think incorrectly," Zan said, attempting to strike fear into Tartarus, who just stood there.
       Tartarus's mouth slowly formed into a smile.
       "Fool," he turned to his Brutes, "Kill him."
       Zan looked up nervously as Tartarus turned around and was about to leave. Tartarus stopped and turned back.
       "Oh, and by the way, the rest of the Councilor's have either been killed or imprisoned. You're the only one left. Too bad for you, your death is going to be the most gruesome," Tartarus grinned and turned around and left.
       The Brute that was pushed went back into position, with the two Carbine Brutes on the ends of the line, with the other four on the inside. Zan looked around as the Brutes prepared to fire. He spotted another Plasma Sword lying on the ground. Zan smiled to himself, and as the Brutes opened fire, Zan jumped to the left, grabbing the Plasma Sword with his other hand, rolling and jumping up, the Plasma and Carbine rounds going through the place he was previously, hitting the wall behind him, and leaving scorches. Zan stood there as the Brutes turned, and ignited the other Plasma Sword. He stood there, with a Plasma Sword in both hands. Zan could tell that the Brutes were afraid as they stepped back a step, but they aimed their weapons quickly again. Zan laughed and then brought a Plasma Sword's blade in front of his face then pointed it at the Brutes, who just glared at him. Then, surprising the Brutes, Zan leaped forward, pushing with both feet off the ground. Like a bullet, he sped toward the surprised Brutes, heading for the Brute on the side, next to the Carbine Brute. None of the Brutes saw it coming as Zan sliced with his left Plasma Sword, which was in front of his face, while the other was at his side, and cut across the Brute's neck. After cutting the Brute's neck, and making him drop his Plasma Rifle, Zan spun in mid air, and brought his right Plasma Sword forward, and cut the other Brute's arm straight off, who was just turning around. As the Brute with the cut neck grabbed his neck, and the Brutes were turning to fire at Zan, including the one with the missing arm, Zan completed his spin, and lobbed the Brute with the slit throat's head off with his left Plasma Sword. The Brute with the missing arm dodged as Zan attempted to cut him again, moving to the side. Zan stood between the Brutes, with the headless Brute collapsing to the floor. While the other Brutes fired at Zan, Zan jumped up above them, the Plasma bolts and Carbine shots hit the other Brute with the Carbine, throwing him against the wall. Zan brought his Plasma Sword down, as he came down, on top of one of the other Brute, splitting his head in half. When Zan's Plasma Sword reached his neck, he pulled it out and stabbed the Brute in the stomach and picked him up, and threw him at the two other Brutes, who were thrown against the wall by the giant, hairy corpse of their fellow warrior. In the mean time, the one-armed Brute moved around Zan, without him noticing. Zan jumped up again and stabbed the last two Brutes in the stomach, killing them as they were on the floor. As Zan sat there, kneeling with his Plasma Swords in the Brutes, he sighed. Then he felt a very hot blast hit his back and he let out a roar of pain and stumbled forward, hitting his head on the metal wall, and leaving his Plasma Swords in the bodies. Zan had completely forgot to turn on his shields. He turned around, sitting on the floor to see the one-armed Brute pointing his Plasma Rifle Zan, straight at his head at point-blank.
       "Good night, Elite," The Brute spoke, grinning.

Zan 'Socromee Chapter 4
Date: 23 March 2007, 5:10 am

     Even losing an arm would not stop a Brute completely. The one-armed Brute smiled at Zan, who sighed against the wall, and looked at his two Plasma Swords, then looked back up at the Brute. The Brute winced in pain for a split second. His stump of an arm was still bleeding, but he would make sure that Zan would suffer an even more painful wound.
     "Scared, yet, Elite?" The Brute asked, wincing again.
     "Never," Zan said, and immediately turned on his shields and pushed off the wall.
     He head-butted the Brute in the stomach, who dropped his Plasma Rifle and flew backwards. Zan immediately stood straight and jumped for his Plasma Swords. The Brute landed on the ground on his back and skidded a few feet, then stood up again as Zan grabbed both Plasma Swords. Zan looked straight at the Brute.
     "Scared, Brute?" Zan asked, glaring at him.
     The Brute smiled and opened a pack on his belt, showing Zan nearly ten Plasma Grenades. Zan's eyes widened as he knew what the Brute was going to do. The Brute grabbed a Plasma Grenade, ignited it, ran toward Zan, and placed the ignited Plasma Grenade back in his pack. As the Brute neared the shocked Zan, he leaped toward him, hoping to pin him down. Zan jumped out of the way of the Brute, who promptly exploded in a massive explosion of fiery blue plasma. As Zan was jumping he sincerely hoped that there were no other Plasma Grenades on the ground. Much to his disappointment, there was a series of other explosions behind Zan, which threw him against the wall, causing his Plasma Swords to go flying in another direction. As Zan landed on the ground, he was knocked unconscious.

     Zan awoke to a Council Chamber that was horribly scorched with several chunks of bodies lying around, and no sign of anything living. He looked around before getting to his feet, several bones cracking. Zan felt rather soar and stretched his arms back, and then brought them forward. Cracking his neck, he walked over to his two Plasma Swords and grabbed them, stowing them away for later use. As he turned to exit the Council Chamber, he looked down at the various red Brute Plasma Rifles lying on the ground. Zan stared at them for a moment, thinking. Then, Zan's eyes widened as he bent down and picked up two Brute Plasma Rifles, one in each hand. He nodded his head, and chuckled to himself, going over to the Council Chamber door. As Zan neared the door, he expected it not to open, but it did. As it did, several Carbines, Plasma Rifles, and Plasma Pistols leveled to Zan's head, aswell as a Beam Rifle. Zan jumped back an entire foot and aimed his Brute Plasma Rifles. As he did, seven Elites, three Minor Domos, a Major Domo, two former Honor Guards, and a Zealot entered, pointing their weapons around the Chamber. The Zealot told the other Elites to lower their weapons. The three Minor Domos carrying dual Plasma Pistols lowered their weapons and looked at Zan, very pleased to see him. The Major Domo, carrying dual Plasma Rifles lowered his weapons aswell, nodding his head to Zan. As the Honor Guards entered behind the rest, they, too, lowered their Carbines, also pleased to see Zan. The Zealot, holding his Beam Rifle, motioned to Zan that it was all right.
     "Pleased to see you, Councilor," The Zealot said, bowing to him.
     "As I am glad to see you, what is going on?" Zan asked, looking around.
     Zan noticed the sudden sadness that claimed the Elites, as they lowered their heads.
     "The Prophets… they have betrayed us, Councilor. The Brutes have sided with them, still following the lies of the Great Journey," The Zealot looked at the floor, shaking his head.
     "What of the others? Grunts? Jackals?" Zan asked, moving toward the Zealot.
     "We do not know yet which side they will take – but surely the Grunts will side with us," the Zealot placed a fist on his chest. "The Grunts would be wise to do so, as we have led them for many years to glorious battle."
     "So, what do we do?" Zan asked, looking at all the Elites.
     "We… we stand… and we fight. The war that began in the Age of Conflict shall begin again… and this time, the Prophets, and those blind enough to follow them, shall all be beheaded," The Zealot exclaimed, looking to the other Elites, who all roared.
     The Zealot's expression quickly changed back to sadness. "We have lost many Councilors and many more brave warriors. This… this reason… is the one of many reasons why we must stand up against our former Hierarchs, brothers!" The Zealot clenched his fist and raised it into the air. "We will bring the fight to them, and we shall win it!"
     The other Elites all raised their fists in the air and roared. Zan watched as this was all going on.
     "What say you, Councilor?" The Zealot looked at Zan.
     Zan looked at the Zealot then down at his Brute Plasma Rifles. He looked back up at the Zealot and nodded.
     "Let us roll a few heads, brothers!" Zan said, raising one of his Brute Plasma Rifles in the air.
     The other Elites nodded and the Zealot pointed to the door. "Come! Brothers! Now is our time!"
     The Zealot ran out the door, holding his Beam Rifle, followed by the other Elites. Zan stood for a moment, and looked over the Council Chamber, and thought. Everything was coming down around his ears. The Covenant has split and the Council is dead. The newly assigned Arbiter was not even here to help them fight. Surely he was dead. Zan shook his head and walked out the door, following the other Elites.

     As Zan got outside into the large courtyard, which stretched from the far tower on the opposite side to the Council Chamber door. In the middle of the wide bridge was a fight. Several Brutes were fighting and throwing grenades at a large amount of Elites holding off the Council Chamber against them. The Elites had set up two turrets and were manning them, firing vigorously. The Brutes were attempting to simply out power them. As the other Elites that Zan was with previously ran into the battle, Zan stepped forward and aimed his Brute Plasma Rifles. He knew he could not hit a target from this distance, but that was not the point. Zan squeezed the triggers on both and fired seven plasma volleys from each weapon. The red streaks raced toward the battle, and as if Zan had predicted, a Brute stood up from behind the barricade to throw a Plasma Grenade. The red plasma bolts zoomed toward the Brute, who noticed them, but too late. He was hit with three of the bolts in his face, and two bolts hit his Plasma Grenade, which he had just turned on, while the rest of the bolts zoomed behind him and hit the ground. The Brute fell backwards, but his Plasma Grenade went off before he even hit the ground. The explosion was massive, as there were also several Plasma Grenades in the pouch on his belt. Chunks of metal and pieces of Brute, aswell as hot plasma, flew through the air. One weapon-holder flung into another Brute, pushing him against the pillar and breaking his spin. As the weapon-holder fell to the ground, the Brute slumped to his knees and crumbled to the floor. As the battle raged in front of him, Zan stared. He grinned to himself, knowing that the Brutes would not win this day. He raised his head and leveled his weapons, and ran toward the battle, roaring loudly.