 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
Concept Art
Halo Bulletins
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
ARG Forum
Links
Admin
Submissions
Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Evanangel (Part Three)
Posted By: Jinkaiden-XI<Nolimits4csk@aol.com>
Date: 23 October 2003, 12:33 AM
Read/Post Comments
|
The continuing drama of Evanangel...
In a single passage, the recent events recorded in history can be described as simply as follows: The message for the Spartan, beware of Evanangel. Will it help you? Will it end you? Question as you might.
Now that Somnus has been destroyed, we return to the state of John the Spartan, who has witnessed the satellite's destruction from the solid ground of Phaethon. He gazes upward at the skies, in hopes of absolution.
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune system
As John traverses the stone path so cleverly hidden by the touch if nature, he randomly feels a strange urge to return his sight to the heavens above. In an instant he feels unsafe.
A light, one identical to those seen by shooting stars, screams silently across the sky and passes on over the horizon. At the same moment, what appears to be a star vanishes in a small flicker of light. A split second passes, and a magnificent burst of light appears and disappears. John can almost feel the passing of Somnus' crew.
Glyvaennan senses something amiss as well. "Mylira," he stutters. Within his own thoughts he prays for the others as well.
John turns to him. In a gentle tone he questions, "You can feel them?"
Glyvaennan drops to his knees. Silently he answers, "It is among our connections between us. I can feel only the ones closest to me, but when I do, it is like a strong pulsing inside your heart, as if you've known something all along. And when they perish..."
Glyvaennan stops there, and John thanks him without words or expressions. "It weakens me."
John cannot last any longer. He ponders what to do; how to go about this new situation. He sees the way Glyvaennan is destroyed by the door that has just been opened. The door they were to pass through has closed, and now one of undesired choice has opened in its place. A light of darkness greets them on the other side. And suddenly it strikes him: he must press on now, and he must continue to try and save the innocent and punish the guilty.
He peers down on Glyvaennan, the commander he once assumed was unbreakable. But in this new time of reality, John sees the side of the strong that keeps them from what they do not want to be. It is what keeps them who they are. "Come, Commander. Let us journey onward and put our troubles behind us. They can still be saved."
Planet Earth
Assuming that the revolution sees no rest, a battle being fought endlessly in another place is more than possible. It is inevitable. And on this day there are no more cannons or guns, bombs or vehicles. It is living warrior against living warrior on this day, and the peaceful plains of this valley are to be no more.
In the hands of the humans are ornate swords, identical to the ones that now lie among the lifeless at Angel Mesa. Carved into their metal blades are inscriptions of guidance and of inspiration. God has such liberty to the hands of man.
In the claws of the Covenant are the infamous energy blades, these forged of the power of plasma. Some of the lower class soldiers carry katanas and spears, while still some sport normal, steel formed swords. The two forces stand opposite each other on twin hills that rise within the grassy mountain valley. A strong wind picks up as a storm rolls in.
And, without warning, the Covenant main battle force charges the human lines. The human forces stand their ground. Following the center column, the two side columns burst into the battle. Wielding their energy blades and katanas, they combine with the main force and become a regiment of unstoppable proportions.
Despite this new obstacle, the human lines remain still. As the Covenant soldiers flow down the base of the hill and into the valley, a human commander raises his sword into the air and shouts an order. All at once, the humans raise their blades as well and brace themselves for the charge. They understand how it will be. This battle will result in one of the bloodiest, most savage events in human history. Neither side is clad in any special armor nor do they carry shields of any kind. The side which offers the higher price shall be triumphant.
The final second passes. The Covenant battle force collides with that of the humans and they begin a savagery like none before.
Evanangel
With what pride does this crew seek the death and destruction of innocent bystanders? How does a creature manage to murder thousands, so to give just one a message?
With Somnus destroyed and its crew slain, the vessel's captain begins to wonder if this has truly done what it was intended. The one known as Jydlin has thought of his actions as victorious and just, but this does not strike the Captain as pure.
With a defense satellite obliterated by a foreign power for no true reason, he fears that the people of Phaethon will arise and become involved in the conflict. Perhaps this sudden attempt to end a war has simply given birth to an even stronger one. Jydlin does not see clearly, as he should. Instead of seeing what he may be unintentionally creating, he sees what is in fact meant to be.
Likewise, in the case of Somnus, Jydlin saw what he wanted to be done, not what was destined to be done.
In a meditated connection, Jydlin intercepts these thoughts. "Why do you question what I have done?" he asks.
"I fear we have created a bigger problem in believing we were eliminating a smaller one. I should have realized that sooner."
Jydlin sighs. "I never saw this in you, Captain. What makes you ponder such things?"
"The fact that it is the truth," the Captain responds in an irritated tone. "The Spartan is not subdued and the revolution rages as we speak. I should never have been so foolish as to allow this to happen."
"You worry too much. The Spartan has not had time to consider his options and the people of the planet Earth have not been told of these events."
"I believe that the Spartan has already considered his choices and has already made a decision. As far as I'm concerned, he's about to become a danger to us," the Captain answers.
To this Jydlin makes no reply.
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune system
After a seemingly endless journey, John places a foot on the first of a hundred steps that will take him to the Perihelion Temple. Glyvaennan, unwilling to stop for fear that he will sense the emptiness in his heart, begins the ascent to the temple without resting. John, amazed by his determination, gathers his strength and follows him.
Glyvaennan, who at first was unwilling to speak, nods to John. "I fear now that we face a new threat because of your presence here," he says softly. "But I will not stand down. You won't either, will you?"
A fierce look of confidence overcame John. He speaks as he watches the skies, "As long as my people suffer, I will never stand down. I will fight until the day I die if necessary." John suddenly realizes that he was speaking the truth at this point.
"Then let us fight alongside one another. I am certain we can overcome any troubles we may have if we fight as one."
"Truly," John interjects. "Yes, it shall be most wise to do so."
It was agreed. Upon reaching the God's Throne, Commander Glyvaennan and the Spartan would unite their forces as one and become the savior the humans desired so heavily.
Planet Earth
With a clash of steel and plasma, humanity collides with Covenant on the stormy plains of a hidden valley. Hundreds are slain in the first minute, and the numbers only increase from this point. A human sword pierces through the Covenant with ease. The same is for that of the plasma blades and katanas, and before long the battlefield, a once peaceful plain, is a bloody valley of chaos.
The battle rages for a matter of minutes, and soon the clouds roll in and bear down upon the land their payload. The rain pours down on the soldiers, each clad in a shimmering armor. Lightning reflects off the metal blades and thunder cackles everlastingly. And so they fight, slashing at one another as though tomorrow was never to come.
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune system
Before the God's Throne kneels the Spartan and the Commander Glyvaennan. The High Priest graces the Throne with a mighty touch of its armrests. "Spartan, I give you my deepest sympathies, as I have heard of your situation on Earth."
"Thank you, Your Grace, but I have not come for sympathy. I am confident that mankind will stand boldly against those of whom we despise," John replies respectfully.
"A soldier of many honors, and he speaks by the word of truth," The High Priest responds almost cheerfully. "And what can I do for such an honorable mention?"
"If you would, Your Grace, I would like to request an immediate bearing of arms against the Covenant."
The High Priest booms in response, "Ah, and so he reveals what he desires. For some time I have known what you seek, Spartan, and now I shall do my part as to fulfill it."
The High Priest turns to a servant and orders, "Have our finest warships ready for action as soon as possible. Have the captains set direct course for planet Earth."
The servant obediently nods and hurries away. "Please," The High Priest nods to John and Glyvaennan, "escort these two to the great bays." The servant agrees and leads John and the Commander down a long, seemingly endless hallway lined with marble columns and arched ceilings. Every twenty feet or so is an elegant chandelier.
But John is blind when it comes to beauty; he sees only the simplest of things: the problem, the choices, and the solution.
Evanangel
I was right.
So it seems, yes.
What are we to do now? We've created an entirely new flame of war.
We can only do one thing. The one called Jydlin must be eliminated, and we must stop this from growing into something more.
Into something more? What more can it become?
The end of our and their existence, for starters. Something must be done to end this now.
It all starts with Jydlin.
A uniformed officer strides down the narrow corridor and approaches a single door of several. With three heavy knocks on the metal hatch, a figure opens it and exchanges glances with the officer.
The officer is the first to speak. "Are you the one called Jydlin?"
The figure appears confused. For what reason is this happening? "Yes."
"It has been determined that you are a danger to the crew of this vessel and every living creature on Earth and of Phaethon. You have been found guilty of the destruction of the Phaethon defense satellite Somnus, of which seven thousand nine hundred and twenty-one souls were lost."
Jydlin's eyes open wide. He tries to back away and slam the door shut, but in a flash of brilliant, shining metal, the officer unsheathes his sword and with a sickening thud Jydlin's head strikes the floor. "Your sentence has been served."
"Sir, we have received word from the barracks that the one called Jydlin has been executed by an official of this vessel."
The Captain grimaces. I have come to know you, Jydlin, even as you were but a child. And as I have done, your death was under me. "Very well."
"Based on the Council's judgment, the anomaly's termination is a signal to proceed as planned. Shall we set course for Earth?"
The Captain nods simply. "We are to intercept the Phaethon warships at that location. Make it so."
Planet Earth
It is at this point that the battle has ended and all lives are lost. Countless bodies are scattered to rest among the wild flowers and grasses. From their flesh protrude the blades of the enemy, which have been handed to the victim as a final farewell.
One soldier, this one human, rises from the grisly scene and manages to stand. He reaches for something in his abdomen and removes it. The hidden item was a dagger, eleven inches long, stained with his blood. He drops the blade and clutches the wound tightly. His clothes are torn and shredded and his armor lies in shambles on his shoulders and chest. Cuts mark his face and arms. He knows he is not going to last through the hour, perhaps not even the next few minutes. Each step is agonizingly painful and he stumbles with every movement. In his breast pocket is a picture, and he removes it with the last of his strength. On the ripped piece of paper is a picture of his loving wife and young child, each of whom are likely to be sitting at home right now, fearing for his safety as well as their own.
He squeezes the photo one last time, and falls to his knees and collapses in a heap to the ground. The picture flutters away, carrying a trace of blood and a memory.
|
