HALO: The New World

I woke up lying down yet again, but not in a forest this time. I was on a marble floor, polished so smooth that it looked like glass. I was bound, but not by any conventional means. My armor was held in an aura similar to the one I saw the lavender unicorn emit, but this one was a beautiful gold, like the rays of the sun.

My world spun around me. I thought it was my body trying to make sense of where I was, but I found myself facing up towards a huge, vaulted ceiling. And as my head was forced to gaze upwards, a white face came into view. It seemed to me like the face of a goddess, for lack of any better description. Pure white fur, deep purple eyes, a gold crown, and a pastel colored mane that flowed in the air. It was the face of a mother and a ruler, and I could not look away.

I noticed something else there as well. Grim curiosity, as if I were an undiscovered species that just cried for vivisection. I did not like that look, and even less so when I saw the long, spiraled horn protruding from her forehead. It was glowing the same gold as the aura that held me, and I knew that I was helpless. My mind flashed to earlier times, and once more I heard the screams of my fellow Marines. Held in Covenant prison cells, one by one Elites would come and take one of us, and the cries of terror and pain lasted for hours. Then they would come back, dragging the mutilated bodies of my friends. I could not look away then, as the sheer violence and brutality of the moment hit me like the waves of a hurricane, upon a fragile raft of wood. The vision ended, as I was suddenly dropped to the cold, unforgiving floor.

I sat up, terrified. I had locked those memories away for good reason, and the absolute pressure to reveal them was horrifying. I did not want to remember why I wanted revenge, but I still kept that rage bottled up for when I saw my old enemies again. I wanted, no, needed to make them pay for all they had done to my men. I would never forget the lives of the men I lost, but I did wish to forget how they had gone. No remains to even be boxed and sent to their waiting friends and families, missions of such high classification that they would never even know their closest companions had left this domain…

I shook my head, now was not the time to think of this. I was in enemy territory, captured by beings of more power than the Covenant spoke of about the Forerunners, and I never even thought about my weapons. My weapons… Aha!

The goddess may have taken me, but never realised the danger of leaving a Spartan with his or her guns. Before I could even reach for my Magnum, I was held in that golden glow once more. Then the goddess spoke, in a commanding and motherly tone, “What are you?”

I was stunned. The being before me spoke perfect English, and I didn’t even have my translators active. Did this deity before me wring information out of my prone body, as I lay unconscious? I had no way of telling, until she spoke once more.

“I heard you cry out when you were held. Explain to me, what are you, and what is the Covenant?”

No. I would not relive those times again. I could not. The memories were too harsh, I could not survive them again and retain my sanity. “No. I will not give information to the enemy. I have no memory of you, or your kind, now release me.” I surprised myself with the confidence in my voice, but it was all for naught.

“Then I am sorry to say this, but I will have to learn by force. Twilight, come here. You should see this as well.” The goddess spoke, signaling with a wing towards the lavender unicorn from earlier. Only now did I notice the wings, regal appendages of massive proportions.

The unicorn’s horn lit up with her respective aura, as did the goddess’s, and they touched their horns to the fore of my helmet. I could not move to stop them, and I felt terror like I never felt before. I was a caged animal, waiting for the beating that was sure to come.

I thought no more on that, as images stretched to an indefinable horizon in my mind, before settling on a single scene. It was my first mission as a Marine, and I was deployed with my squad to New Venezuela. The mission was dubbed TREBUCHET, and we were to take down select known terrorists. I felt as though I were doing good for the rest of mankind, but I knew deep in my heart I was not. I truly felt so when I shot my first terrorist, a man no older than thirty. I had shot him with my Assault Rifle, leaving twenty oozing, bloody holes in his chest. As he lay there, gurgling with his last breaths, I broke down crying. I had killed another man, and the guilt was unbearable. He had also been the target for my squad, and we were pulled out. Later I learned that the city I was at had been nuked, killing tens of millions of civilians. I shed no tears then, the body count was too high for me to comprehend.

The images in my mind stretched again, snapping onto another scene. My second drop as an ODST, launched from orbit and falling through atmosphere. Ceramic coating peeling away from a steel alloy skeleton, I felt nothing but pure, unbridled adrenaline, and it was glorious. The Covenant had been encountered, and Harvest had been retaken. That single victory was not enough, as the Covenant pushed deeper and deeper into the Outer Colonies, glassing all opposition along the way. The UNSC secured many victories on the ground, only to have the massive, purple behemoths shunt through the atmosphere and fire boiling plasma onto the surface. I landed, and jumped out into a storm of lead, plasma, and pink crystals. I had no distinction of friend or foe, except for glowing green outlines on friendlies and red signifying hostiles, thanks to my VISR function. I fired, and fired again, with red figures dropping left and right. My ammo counter clicked zero, and I switched from my Assault Rifle to my Magnum. I continued forward, heedless of the incoming fire.

Another jump ahead in my memories. I was getting my augmentations for a Spartan IV, and my nerves burned as if from a cursed inferno. The pain raged endlessly, accompanied with the crackling of glass as a ceramic layer started forming on my bones, making them nigh unbreakable. My muscles were torn asunder, only to rebuild bigger and stronger than before. I could not help it, I could hardly contain my screams of agony, but I had to, else the entire process would halt, and I would be sent back home in shame. I could not, would not, fail my fellow soldiers. I gritted my teeth, seething at my own helplessness.

Another stretch into infinity, then a new memory. I could not help the continual advance through my mind, every barrier I had made was torn down faster than orbital glassing could melt the ground. I then felt nothing but sorrow, as the invaders came upon my memories of the destruction of New Mombasa. My home. A video came up, slightly staticy from the quality of a home video. It showed a normal apartment in a skyscraper, which translated to cramped. A tall, white man with stubble on his chin and glasses stepped back, shot black hair stiff in position, after adjusting the camera. He smiled, and sat down next to a white woman, who had reddish, curly hair, and glasses. They both smiled at the camera, then a heavy knocking came on the door. The man, my father, stood up and went to answer it, only to be dragged out by a fleshy, tan tentacle. My mother shrieked, before being silenced by another tentacle. My father stumbled back in the room, battling a strange, slimy pod with tentacles ending in red ovoids. He lost the battle, and it slipped a neural penetrator through his neck and tapped into his spine, just as another took my mom.

This video didn’t fast forward, to my horror. As my parents turned in seconds from normal, average humans to mutated monsters, I sobbed in my mind. I had lost my family to the Flood, and had the images of their pain, their horror, burned into my mind. I would never forget that video, only keep it locked up tight. I did not want to relive those moments, yet I was forced to. The sheer brutality of that which I was forced to go through, all because of these damned ponies, made me rage. I tore at my mental prison, wishing to be anywhere but here, remembering that which I did not want to see again.

The flashbacks ended, revealing a painful world. The goddess and the unicorn sat on their rears, unspeakable sadness and horror etched on their faces. I found myself curled up into a fetal ball in the corner of the vast hall, shivering in my armor. The Knight has terrified me, but these creatures, these monsters, scarred me forever. My mind had that look of grim curiosity forever paired with the worst torture man could possibly endure, and I wished them GONE. Then the deity stood on slender legs, and strode towards me. I could not help it, I instinctively tried backing farther into the corner. The goddess stopped, confused by my actions, then I gazed as the look of revelation crossed her face. She realized what she had done, what she put me through, and it horrified her. I saw it as clear as day, and it gave me a perverse pleasure. She knew what she had done, knew what hell I had gone through, and I was glad that she understood. I took that time to stumble to my feet, then bolted out of the palace as best as I could, tearing holes in doors just to escape.

I ran on and on, hour after hour, finding myself back where I had arrived in this god-forsaken hell-hole. I ended my flight there, and raged against the trees. I raved and ranted, screaming with unbridled terror and anger at the torture and suffering I had felt during the time my mind was torn apart. I lost my sanity for a time, and regained it later to find myself lying where I had lain when I first came. The trees about me lay torn and splintered, where my fists had punched through century-old wood, leaving a large radius of about twenty feet cleared of arboreal matter. I did not understand this world, but I knew that I must not stay. I did not wish for my enemies to come here, but neither did I wish to simply leave them without saying anything. The look of horror upon the face of the goddess, was satisfying, but did the lavender unicorn understand? I never knew, for she had simply lain there, tears streaming down her face, the only sign of emotion. Whether they were tears of anger or sadness, I could not tell, for the only kind I knew were tears of hatred, the crying of fluorescent blood pouring out from bullet holes in the countless Elites I had slain.

A golden glow bathed the area once again, but I remained awake this time. I saw the goddess standing there, looking for me, but I had vanished into the depths of the forest, fleeing from the living terror in the form of a pony with wings and horn, the only sign of my passing being the scorch marks from my thruster pack, and the smashed foliage at my passing.

On and on I ran, heedless of the vines that reached for my fleeing form, heedless of the sinister blue flowers that grew in patches, heedless of the mythological creatures that took anger at my presence, heedless of any life form, until I found myself in a cave, glowing with the vast amount of gems inside. I thought myself safe, only to hear a bone-rattling roar, more chilling than the throaty bellow of a Hunter, more fear-inducing than the sound of plasma preparing to lance down at a city. I heard the roar of what could only be described as that of a dragon.