Three: The Sealed-Away Ark of Sin

Though he had never met the Forerunner in question, John now knew that the Master Builder, at least, was one vindictive son of a bitch. Getting information from the twins about what was happening was worse than pulling teeth, but at last they explained that though the ecumene had not used capital punishment for millions of years, there were other ways of "getting rid of undesirables". The Didact had been sentenced to one of them, something called a "Cryptum".

"The point of it is that if it is found, it is considered sacrilegious to disturb a Cryptum, or 'Warrior Keep', save at great need - or on the order of the Ecumenical Council," Venera nearly hissed, scowling fiercely, "Which essentially means that the Master Builder holds all the power and now can both banish and recall the Didact at his convenience." She said something else that the Spartan didn't understand, which was probably a curse.

"Have faith in the Librarian," Kenera told them both, "She can see further than any of us. If there is even the slightest chance to orchestrate the Didact's return outside of the Master Builder's control, she will find it and implement it."

None of them attended the couple's last dinner, instead electing to give them privacy for what might be their very last night. They spent the time eating their own dinner with another of their few remaining family members: another Promethean Warrior-Servant whose name also refused to translate properly, just like the twins'. She was Nethalia Noelind Hesleri, widow of one of the Didact's and the Librarian's children. When she arrived, she eyed John up and down, same as the Didact had at their first meeting, then nodded, apparently satisfied, and greeted him - not respectful, but also not hostile.

They ate and traded war stories, and before the Didact was sealed in his Cryptum, they were called in one at a time to speak with him.

John had never seen any Promethean so frail, let alone one as powerful as the Didact. He was still alive, but his body had been thoroughly desiccated by whatever medicine he'd been given; he looked more like a mummy, half a corpse, than the warrior that had laid humanity low. "I know neither of us have any right to ask anything of each other," said the Forerunner. Though they had been working towards the same end for several years now, they had been doing it away from each other, so the relationship between human and Forerunner was still strained. "But please, look after my wife. She has been known to put her studies ahead of her own health and safety."

"I know the type." Doctor Halsey had been the same when it came to crunch time, right before new iterations of the MJOLNIR were issued to the Spartans. "I'll do my best."

The Promethean managed a weak nod and even the tiniest of smiles, much to John's surprise. "Good luck, and good hunting, Spartan. May your sword stay sharp."

"And may your strength never falter."

He stepped back, and let the Haruspis associate steer the Didact's gurney from the room to the waiting Cryptum.

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After it was done and the Cryptum was taken away, the Librarian approached him. "Do you remember Boundless's research?"

"Kind of hard to forget with the Domain beating me upside the head with it every other day. But what about it?"

"I am planning an expedition to Path Kethona," she informed him, "to the Spider, to see what might be seen and to find out why she was so interested in this nebula, why the Domain favored her research on it so much. The wheels are already set in motion, so it will only be a matter of time before it becomes a reality. I would have you come with me."

That made his eyebrows shoot up. "Are you sure? I mean, there's nothing I can really do for you that another Forerunner can't do better, except maybe spreading the Flood infection."

She nodded. "I know from the terminals you saw that I will not survive the activation of the Array, but I feel it is important that someone lives to bear witness to the future on whatever we may find, if anything. Someone must bear witness, and whether your 'luck' is real or not, you have already proven yourself to be a survivor of the highest order. Your Flood DNA has already essentially halted your aging; you are frozen in time at the same age as when you went into stasis - and when you arrived here. If anyone will make it through a hundred thousand years, it will be you."

"I'm just one human, though. I don't even know what I can do for you during the war."

"When we return, we will change that."

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It was as she said. The wheels were set in motion, but it took another fifty years before anything was actually ready. John still spent the time training and accumulating knowledge, between intermittent stints in Lifeworker labs, aiding the Librarian's teams in the most careful study of his DNA imaginable. Both he and the Lifeshaper had impressed upon them the importance of avoiding direct exposure to the supercells; even though he was "friendly" Flood, he couldn't prevent someone from being infected if they themselves weren't careful.

But nothing worked. For fifty years, they tried to engineer something - anything - that he couldn't infect, taking genetic samples from thousands of worlds and recombining them in countless ways. Not even one attempt succeeded - not entirely, at least. There were some strains of DNA that were resistant, but they were so alien as to be essentially unusable for Forerunners and humans alike.

In the process, the Spartan learned a lot about both Forerunner medicine and genetic engineering, and finally met a "trustworthy Builder" by way of the Librarian. Her name was Silver-Moon-of-Fortitude, and while not quite a true friend of Librarian's, she was very much the enemy of the Master Builder, which the Lifeworker had apparently decided was good enough.

They did not return to Charum Hakkor, instead heading to another deserted world of Precursor artifacts, but the effect was the same. The artifacts stirred when he touched them, but also when he somehow reached out with his thoughts, willing them to ripple and sway. It was akin to how the MJOLNIR responded to his commands through his neural interface, save that here there was no interface; it was just mind to machine.

Or what they thought was a machine. There was no real way to know for sure if the artifacts were machines as they understood them; Precursor neural physics was about as far ahead of Forerunner technology as Forerunner was human, even in 2552. But he was able to determine the function of a number of enigmatic artifacts, including a simple weather station of all things.

There was even one on Reach.

It was small, barely qualifying as an artifact in the Forerunners' eyes; a spindly structure about as tall as the Spartan and just wide enough that he couldn't quite wrap his arms around it. "It's a tether," said John, rubbing a hand over the artifact to watch the surface ripple, "The tip of one at least. Goes all the way down to the core. The planet's so different; with only this much exposed now, I can't say I'm surprised the UNSC never found it."

"A tether?" Venera repeated, "A tether for what? To what? A star road to change the planet's path?"

"...Unclear. It was never used. Planted, and then abandoned."

The twins frowned, and so did John.

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When they returned to Far Nomdagro, the Librarian approached him. "Prepare. We will depart soon for Maethrillian, and from there to Path Kethona. The Flood was able to mutate itself, change form; can you do the same?"

"I can give it a shot."

It was a bitch and a half and painful as fuck, but he did it, adding the biomass she provided to become an admittedly small Promethean Warrior-Servant known as "Tranquility-Brings-Balance". The Librarian had already fabricated all the necessary documentation to prove his existence and included him in the crew, now numbering eight; the official reason was for "proper" security, just in case, but also that he had a sixth sense for Precursor artifacts (which he did).

Maethrillian was enormous, easily one of the largest Forerunner constructs he'd ever seen, at least in terms of surface area. The Ark was - would be - longer, wider, but this was a pretty much entirely artificial planet. The thought that some of the Didact's Shield Worlds were bigger than this, that Onyx's Dyson Sphere was bigger still?

Unreal.

Yet despite its size, the Forerunner capital was only sparsely populated - at least by biological beings. There were thousands of ancillae running everything, maybe even tens or hundreds of thousands, all working in concert to maintain the heart of the ecumene.

It will not last. They will be ours if we but reach out our hand-

Shut up.

Compared to Maethrillian itself or even a few of the Council ships docked nearby, Audacity looked tiny and plain, but here was the ship that had cost nearly as much to make as the capital itself. Here was the ship that would take Forerunners to Path Kethona again after ten million years - and one Flood-infected human for the very first time. He would have to be very careful not to accidentally infect anyone; didn't want to break his streak.

Yet as Audacity sealed up and lifted off from the planet, he murmured to the Librarian, "On this journey, I'm probably about to travel further in one trip than any human in history."

That actually earned a small smile. "Then let's make it count."

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The long jumps were unsettling in many ways. John discovered very quickly that Forerunner means of stasis couldn't completely put him under; he was always at least partially aware, which was unfortunate because he'd been looking forward to a good long rest on their journey. There was something else, too, some undefinable sense as they passed through intergalactic space that told him it was empty around them, no life or planets or stars or even diffuse gas. No shelter in the void.

There was just nothing. It made his hair stand on end, made him feel exposed, vulnerable.

After who knows how many "days" of half-sleep, he pushed himself out of the stasis bed, wrapped himself in his armor, and rose to wander the ship. Audacity stirred with him, sent its monitors to tend to him, but he waved them off, coming to sit in the observation deck. There was really nothing to see; even for Forerunner ships, Slipspace was essentially pitch-black. He let his eyes slip closed, but that only made him more aware that he couldn't settle, that reality itself felt thin and fragile.

After a time, the ship woke the Librarian to come see him. She seemed unsettled as well, pale and almost sickly. "You feel it too?"

It was only half a question, but he nodded anyway. "It doesn't like it either."

The Flood had been very quiet since they'd left the Milky Way behind, quieter than it had ever been since before his arrival in this reality. If he didn't know any better, he would have said it was dead - or afraid.

"What do you think we'll find in Path Kethona?" he asked instead, "Are you expecting to find something?"

"Path Kethona is theorized to be the origin of the Flood," she answered, "but also there are legends of a great scientific expedition made to the galaxy almost ten million years ago now."

"Could those be connected? Could some of the returners have brought the Flood back with them?"

"I don't believe so," she frowned, "But. When you say it like that... Humans supposedly first encountered the Flood as fine powder on strange, primitive and automated ships, ships that have since been destroyed so we only know of them through reports. Our technology at the time would have been primitive, perhaps along the lines of human tech then; I'm almost surprised we were able to make the journey, if indeed the stories are true.

"And... the legends are all about a journey to Path Kethona. There's nothing about anyone who came back."

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They dropped out of Slipspace in the middle of the galactic void to let their racing realities reconcile, then jumped again, this time to the very edge of Path Kethona, the Large Magellanic Cloud. The others celebrated their success, but John was silent, nursing his own restorative and observing the cluster of stars.

There was something wrong here. Déjà was feeding him the data Audacity was picking up, but his mind was tracing the shapes of distant Precursor structures, specifically at Boundless's star in the Spider, the Tarantula Nebula. His strange, apparently Flood-borne ability had never lied to him yet, but he couldn't actually see them, either with his eyes or the Audacity's sensors; it was all just empty space.

In addition, related but on a separate note, even though the Cloud wasn't nearly as large as the Milky Way, it still had an abundance of organic and inorganic resources, more than enough to create at least one small form of life, but the ship couldn't find anything at all. The entire galaxy was dead.

His skin prickled. We have been here before.

Oh? Have we?

We fled from there to here, but we were followed with fire. So we sublimated and hid… and returned there like this.

And what were we before we became 'this'?

The Beginning of All Things.

'The Beginning.'

Yes. We were Movers and Shapers, Builders and Makers. No longer. There is peace in subjugation…

If you're gonna start that again, you can shut the fuck up.

John frowned. The Librarian noticed and moved to stand next to him, silently questioning. "I don't think we're gonna like what we find here."

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Audacity moved deeper into the galaxy with additional shorter jumps, scanning the stars for any signs of life and zeroing in on Boundless's star in particular. At last, they finally moved close enough for him to say, "There are Precursor structures nearby."

One of the Builders, Keeper-of-Tools, looked up from the display, eyeing him with both suspicion and interest. "Are you sure?"

John nodded. He had Déjà call up a map and pointed to Boundless's star. "Here, I think. A great many or a single very large one, for me to be feeling it this strongly."

"There's nothing there."

"And that's why it worries me."

The ship jumped again to get closer, but the first things they found were not Precursor.

Ancient Forerunner probability mirrors were suspended in the outer reaches of the star system, five of them, colder than interstellar space. They were odd things - John at least had never seen their like - perfectly reflective but with no clear outline, light jumping both forward and back along its surface as they glided over it. "Blunt-force reconciliation," Clearance-of-Old-Forests suggested to them, "for a series of massive portals."

"'Portals,'" John repeated, Déjà already running the numbers in the back of his mind, "For what?"

"The scientific expedition of legend," one of the Builders, Keeper-of-Tools, answered, "We truly have been here before. Glory to our ancestors!"

But John shook his head. "This is a scientific expedition - small ship, small crew, doing research. With such large mirrors, and so many, those portals would have been enormous - or enormously inefficient, which I find irreconcilable with the great knowledge and skill of the Builders throughout history. So why so large and so many? Did they bring half the ecumene with them? Or is there something more to this that we cannot see?"

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The rest of the crew rested again as Audacity moved them downstar. John remained awake, and so he was the first to see the changes deeper in the system as they crossed through some unseen veil.

Sure enough, he was right. A massive network of star roads, larger than anything seen in the Milky Way, linked dozens of planets around Boundless's star, great bands of alien metal rippling and swinging through empty space. Some of them were no longer intact, had splintered along crystalline facets; even the Precursors hadn't been able to engineer balance adjustments so many thousands or even millions of years in advance. He didn't dare disturb them to see if they were active, but at his request Audacity did get close enough to scoop up a small fragment of star road, about the size of a human finger; proof of their journey and the roads' presence.

Then he woke the Librarian, and everyone else. They admired the star roads as well… until Audacity found something else further in.

"Forerunner ships," said Keeper, "I'm sure of it. I've seen their like as symbols in Builder rituals, but no one thought we would actually find them. These are dead hulks, though; no activity that we can detect."

The ships were clustered around the star roads, following their paths through the system. They were smaller than some that John had seen, more to the scale of UNSC ships than the Didact's Mantle's Approach, but the fleet itself was even larger than the one that escorted High Charity to Installation Zero-Five, at the time the largest fleet anyone had ever seen. This one numbered in the hundreds of thousands, and every single ship was sleek and deadly, likely armed to the teeth.

The others were talking, debating amongst themselves, but John knew that he and the Librarian at least were thinking the same thing.

This expedition wasn't "scientific".

'Blunt-force,' the Spartan recalled, 'Like the fleets they brought.' As Audacity moved closer, through the weaving star roads, he reached out the way he did with the Domain, with Precursor artifacts, searching for any access to the ships' systems, even though they said there was no power. But it had been so long that he didn't pick up anything, and neither did the monitors they sent out to investigate.

Still, no species mounted so great an effort except to save itself.

Aloud, he said, "This fleet never came home - too expensive, perhaps, but it couldn't have been purely automated. What became of those who manned it? Are there lifeforms nearby?"

There were indeed. The ship's sensors, their data processed by the Librarian's ancilla, detected possible life around a small rocky planet around a star ten light-years away.

Audacity jumped closer. They were Forerunners, different but unmistakable, living primitively on a small planet close by. Keeper was dismayed, especially since they seemed to have all the resources available to advance and escape the planet, if they so desired. It was unfathomable to him that Forerunners would give up their technology.

Unbidden, a snippet of old human poetry floated to the forefront of John's mind. "There is pleasure in the pathless woods…"

Byron. He had seen Halsey reading his poetry once, and asked to read it for himself. A brief interruption of his indoctrination, but she had indulged him. She had indulged all of the Spartan trainees a few vices, though nothing that would compromise them.

They surveyed the planet for many hours, then Audacity provided seekers for a landing.

The Librarian chose John to come with her, and he walked slowly alongside, unarmed but still armored, unlike the Lifeshaper herself. As they entered one of the villages, he retracted his helm plates for a moment and sniffed the air. There was something about it that pricked at his senses, a scent on the wind that was more than what he actually smelled. It made him hum in thought before he let his armor close around him once more.

He was careful to be non-threatening to these strange people they had found, but he was ready to defend the Forerunner if they attacked. Yet they seemed just as interested in the new arrivals as the arrivals were in them, gathering relatively close and peering intently. John surveyed the group in return and couldn't help the thought that these Forerunners seemed to have more in common with humanity than their own kin.

The Librarian was approached by a female, and though the Spartan called her name in warning, she waved him off, letting the woman lead her closer to the main group, while a smaller one came to John and led him off the same. The groups merged, brought them into the village, then parted to allow an old female to approach the Librarian. She seemed to stare down the rest of the group, then grasped the Librarian's hand.

The Forerunner bit her! In an instant, the Spartan was between them, but the female was already backing off. Chant-to-Green and Clearance-of-Old-Forests raced to retrieve them with the seekers and brought them all back to the landing site.

The Librarian refused treatment, though she did return to her armor, too interested in the reason behind the bite to be overly concerned with infection, as long as it was not the Flood.

It was not.

Night brought clarity, of a sort. At her request, the Spartan took the watch while the others rested, and he wasn't at all surprised when she came to him. "My ancilla tells me that the old female's bite has released foreign microbes into my system," she said, "I would like to inject some of these microbes into you, as well, if you will allow it."

John was already retracting the armor from one of his arms to reveal bare skin. "Just to see what it does?"

"A little. Mostly I am curious to see if it will help or hinder them, and if the changes will be the same." John couldn't deny that he was curious as well; the microbes didn't seem to be making malicious alterations, so what were they doing?

The monitor she used carefully drew some of her blood with a needle so small it was nearly invisible to the naked eye. Then it floated over to him and just as carefully injected it into him.

He barely felt the needle, but Déjà did detect the microbes. The Flood seemed as interested in them as the Librarian was and let them drift on through his system unmolested, its focus on them intense. The ancillae compared notes, and found that the changes they worked were similar - somehow imparting knowledge as they worked into the brain, as if they were the biological version of the ancillae in question.

They returned to the village the next day, but now John felt a strange familiarity with the place, like he had when he returned to the Spartans' old training grounds on Reach, right before the Fall. Echoes of memory through time - though now it was very different, another's memory in his own mind.

No doubt the Librarian felt the same.

She was again without her armor, and the old female who had bitten her was waiting for them. "Do you understand me now?"

"Yes," the Librarian answered, "Only, go slowly." The words were awkward on her tongue.

She eyed the Spartan. "Do I need to bite him as well?"

"No. I have already done it. He hears and understands, probably better than I do."

John inclined his head and offered a soft greeting.

She smiled briefly, then turned back to the Librarian, noting his obvious deference to her and rightly assuming that she was the leader. "The others fear you come to punish them."

"After so many millions of years?"

"Has it been that long?"

"Yes. Do you remember those times?"

"Not personally. No one does separately, but we gathered together after you arrived, held hands and tried to reach back. Some of that I have passed to you; apologies for our methods."

"You took a great risk."

"I am old, no loss. But you are older still, if I may judge."

"I have lived for thousands of years." The Librarian offered her bare arms. "Do you need another?"

"No. What we have suspected has been confirmed. Did it take you that long to travel here…?" She frowned, seeming to search for the words. Of course their culture would have no need for words or knowledge of interstellar travel, so they had fallen by the wayside.

The Librarian seemed to understand that as well, because she shook her head. "Our journey was swift, but we did not expect to find anyone when we arrived. We have come to learn, not to punish."

That made the old Forerunner relax. It seemed that she had feared punishment as well but let herself be reassured. "You understand now, and we seem to as well. I feel it inside; there are many things to pass on - old instructions, old bequests, communications… fuzzy and faded. You will likely understand better than us."

The Librarian nodded. "What is your name?"

"Glow-of-Old-Suns."

"That is very like our names. I am called the Librarian. And this is - John. He is from a kindred race, back home." She gestured to him, then in the direction of the Milky Way.

"John." Glow pronounced it better than most Forerunners. "Odd, but there are many odd things in the world. Like your name. How came you by it, 'Librarian'?"

"My teachers gave it to me when I was young. One of my greatest joys was traveling through great stores of knowledge."

"We all carry stores of knowledge here, but there is another place I think you will find more useful. I will show you."

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Clearance and Chant followed in the second seeker while John flew the first, following Glow's directions. They went low, slow and careful, so that she could keep track of where they were and where they were going.

The microbes continued their work. John could feel them improving his understanding of this world and its people, and from a glance he exchanged with the Librarian, he knew that she felt the same.

These people felt guilty. Or their ancestors had, so strongly that it was now genetic memory, rarely accessed, often sidelined, but still clearly present. The Flood felt almost pleased about that - but was less pleased now that it felt guilty itself.

Interesting. Care to share?

No. Not yet. It seemed to quote something it knew, its knowledge somehow separate but also in addition to what he knew. I speak to you of my intent, but intentions are eddies and whorls, and they change with the course of a stream. This stream becomes a river, and a cataract of logic and doubt. Who has the right to live? The light with the will to create me? Or dark with the will to consume? Sometimes might is right, and sometimes the lamb must submit to the lion. My convictions are tested, my intentions now are fey and strange. Should I pursue a pyrrhic choice, and rethink alliances, and choose a new philosophy? Right or might? Truly I do not know - but you will, soon enough. For this is where the cataract floods, and drowns the boon of higher ground.

There was anticipation building under his skin. It was waiting for something, expecting something.

Glow directed them to a valley that they had noticed from orbit, a deep gorge full of yellow-gray haze; bacteria and spores feeding on sulfur - Forerunner, not Flood. John set them down, and the old Forerunner hopped out. "We must walk naked. You need to take off your shell to receive."

John raised his eyebrows but told Déjà to do it. He tucked his armor away in the seeker, leaving him in the same loose undergarments as the Librarian.

Again, Clearance and Chant stayed by the seekers. John and the Librarian followed Glow, their feet kicking up clouds of spores. The Spartan listened while the other two spoke.

"We cannot hold all the memories of our ancestors," Glow said as they went, "We do not want them - we wish to be ourselves, with our own memories. When we need the past - rare, but it does happen - we come here, and when we return, we have what we need."

"A biological Domain?"

"I do not know that word. I have been here only once before, when I was young and there was a dispute of law and tradition. We came, and those in power saw that they were wrong. They stepped down and were replaced. No one defies what is written here."

"And how far back does the memory go?"

"To the beginning. Days ago, we saw a light in the sky, and it was you. I have a memory…" She knelt and bowed to the cliffs. "The first of us marked the cliffs with whatever they had - rocks, sticks."

John breathed in the spores, and wondered what changes these would work in him, what dreams and memories they carried.

Glow got to her feet again and kept walking. Human and Forerunner followed.

The high walls of the cliffs ahead were covered with some kind of plant growth, akin to earth moss, but they were bright orange and moved over the surface of the wall, leaving etched symbols behind, kilometers of them. "These mosses are our kin," Glow said of them, "They travel from one end of the valley to the other and back again. When wind and rain wipe the carvings away, they replace them, always the same."

He had been injected later, but the knowledge came quicker for him than the Librarian. The Flood letting the microbes work faster?

Or was it something else?

He stepped forward even as the Librarian asked, "What do they mean?"

"They tell our stories. And the greater, older story. It's coming a little slow in you, but it will come soon. He has already begun."

John understood the symbols, but he read the tale in reverse while waiting for the Librarian. The Flood devoured the knowledge with eagerness, seeking… something. When she finally seemed ready, they went to the head of the valley, where the story of this tiny world began.

Ten million years ago, Forerunners had indeed traveled to Path Kethona. They came to finish what they started in the Milky Way - the obliteration of the race known as "Precursor". They had been chased from the Milky Way to the Large Magellanic Cloud, where they were found again. Some Forerunners refused to finish the job and were abandoned by their comrades as traitors, but they at least had lived. Suicide was a crime against the Forerunner Mantle, but even so those who abandoned them had no more made it back than they had.

we were followed with fire

Ice filled his veins.

we sublimated and hid… and returned there like this

His throat was dry, his eyes wide, but still he managed, "Librarian? There's something you should know."

Now. At last you see.