PROLOUGE

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EPOLOCH  - REQUIEM

Covenant Supreme Leader Jul ‘Mdama could scarcely believe what he was looking at. Despite being tasked with dealing with the ongoing human threat within Requiem, the Forerunner commander known as the Didact had requested a private audience with him. The Didact, a living member of the once-thought-extinct Forerunner species, who were revered as gods by the Covenant, had recently been freed from his imprisonment within the shield world. While truly released by the unintentional efforts of a human demon and his AI companion, the Didact quickly brought the Covenant into his fold to aid in their crusade against humanity.

For the most part, the Didact was comfortable remaining in his cryptum, a spherical construct which had once been his prison but now served as a mobile command center. Occasionally orders would be delivered to Jul and he would carry them out, but the Didact was ultimately a distant master. Therefore it came as a surprise when the Didact requested the two leaders meet face-to-face before he was to depart from Requiem aboard his flagship, the Mantle’s Approach.

He had arrived aboard a Phantom dropship and was dropped off alone as per the Didact’s instructions. At first, all he saw was a thick, lush jungle foliage that surrounded a large dome of blue energy that his scanner told him stretched out around 1km in circumstance. The barrier was not solid, however, so he phased through to the other side. What he found on the other side instilled a surprising sense of nostalgia for him as its semi-arid environment within reminded me of the deserts of Sangheilos, down to the presence of reddish-orange stones and sand. Somehow, even the air around him smelled and tasted like that of his homeworld. It was almost as if a portion of Sanghelios had been lifted from the planet and transplanted here on Requiem.

While a fleeting thought, he quickly believed there may have been some truth behind it when he saw the mural wall at the very center of the dome's geography. He had seen murals such as this during his brief visit to the state of Vadam, the home of the Arbiter Thel ‘Vadam. Pictoglyphs etched all along the wall to tell a story, though the symbols providing the finer details were in a language completely unknown to him. They resembled archaic Sangheili glyphs but were those of a forgotten age no living Sangheili had memories of.

The outlines of Sangheili figures were obvious enough to identify, their saurian features and four mandibles easily recognizable. Yet scattered at various points was a humanoid figure pigmented in blue and wearing simple garb. It could not have been a human. True, while humans came in various colors from dark brown to ghostly pale in complexion, he had never seen one like this.

“What do you make of the mural, Sangheili?”

Jul turned to see the gargantuan form of the Didact advancing towards him, his armor emanating the burning colors of a purifying fire. To Jul it felt as if his two hearts were going to violently rend themselves from his chest. He had previously only seen the Forerunner from a distance as he first emerged from his cryptum. Now, the true scale of the Didact was plain to see as he nearly stood twice Jul’s height.

Jul quickly tried to collect his composure. “It is a beautiful mural, your holiness. I am afraid to admit that the meaning of the glyphs eludes me, however.”

The Didact clasped his arms behind him as he studied the mural as well. “I would imagine so. The writing system and the events described in etching are well over 100,000 years old.”

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“I am humbled to be granted an opportunity to view back into the time when the gods walked the mortal plane.”

The Promethean sighed and, in an act that caught Jul off-guard, placed a large gauntleted hand on his right shoulder. “I would ask that you drop the façade you have maintained thus far with your followers.”

Panicking, Jul tried to protest. “Façade? Surely you do not doubt my faith, holy one!”

The Didact gripped his shoulder tighter. “Lies are the imperfections that ruin the blade of a warrior’s resolve.”

That was a Sangheili proverb, thought Jul, how could the Didact know it?

“I’ve known you were not one of faith since the beginning. When I first emerged from my imprisonment I called your collection of warrior’s beasts. While the rest continued to bow in worship, not hearing my words amidst their fanaticism, I saw you. My words troubled you. A god holding a low view of their adherents is easily rationalized by the faithful, but it cuts as a sharp blade to the unbeliever.”

It was the truth. Jul had long abandoned the Covenant’s belief in the Forerunners as gods whose activation of the Halos propelled them to paradise along the Great Journey. To Jul they were mortals just as he was albeit with far more advanced technology and understanding of the universe. When the human Office of Naval Intelligence, or ONI, kidnapped him and tried imprisoning him in a different shield world he learned of the Didact. Records at the other shield world implied the Didact was alive and carried with him a bitter hatred of the humans, a common belief the two shared. Once freed, Jul made it his mission to recruit the Didact in his crusade against humanity, a crusade predicated on the belief that they would seek retribution after so many humans were killed by his species' hand in the War of Annihilation.

“Your silence tells me I struck true. I hold no judgment against you for it. Faith in something greater than oneself can motivate even the most debased rabble into a force that can turn the tide of certain defeat into victory. For me, it is the Mantle, the responsibility of the Forerunners to protect and safeguard all life in the galaxy, that motivates me. We both recognize the humans as a threat to this and in my absence you have been waging the fight I began over 100,000 years ago even if you did not know it.”

The Didact finally relaxed his grip, continuing, “However, I can tell the deceit which you bound these fanatics to yourself with eats at you. Your loyalty to your people in the face of aggression is commendable but I am sure you are constantly at war with yourself to maintain the illusion of a fervent leader of a faith you don’t believe in. One who is at war with himself can never hope to triumph over an enemy that is at peace.”

Jul finally spoke up. “Ever since I freed myself from human captivity I’ve been walking as if I was made of glass. Without the Covenant, I have no force to oppose the humans and one wrong step may shatter their perception of me. Either I will be left worse off than when I started or I will be dead, branded a heretic and strung up on my entrails.”

“Then perhaps it is time to find your faith and place it in what you know for certain. I will finish my campaign against the humans and your Covenant will be one of my instruments to quell their arrogance.”

“Are you saying to put my faith in you?”

“Faith. Trust. Hope. You are free to call it what you wish.”

Jul balled his left hand into a fist and struck his own chest. “I place my faith in you, Didact.”

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The Mantle’s Approach had departed hours ago along with the human ship that had formerly been trapped by Requiem’s gravity well. All that remained on Requiem were the bulk of Jul’s forces and a detachment of Promethean Knights, though the Didact assured him more aid would be coming. He stood before a cylindrical-shaped device believed to contain a digital imprint of another Forerunner, the Librarian. The Didact tasked Jul with casting out the imprint from the device housed within the structure known as the Librarian’s Rest.

Yet it was the parting gift given to Jul that he clutched in his hand that occupied his mind at that moment. It was an object no Sangheili would fail to recognize: a curveblade. Precursor to both the Type-1 energy sword of the Covenant and the burnblade pre-Covenant Sanghelios, the curveblade was a traditional Sangheili weapon. What made this particular curveblade special was that it was nearly 100,000 years old yet looked as if it was forged for battle today.

Along with the blade itself, the Didact had left him a portable terminal with instructions to play what was found within during moments of contemplation while holding the weapon. He gazed back at the weapon towards the ceremonial inscriptions along the side of the blade itself. While it was written in the arcane script of a Sanghelios lost to time, a translation was provided for him.

“You are what you dare.”