an ODST among Heroes.

14

High Charity. June 2548

The Prophet of Truth sat hunched over his command console, his face lined with fatigue. Dark circles framed his eyes, and frustration marred his usual composure. The Wraith—that insufferable human they had named Izuku—was proving to be a thorn far deeper than he had anticipated. It had been years since the young human had fought on Doisac, surviving the brutal arena against opponents that should have left him in pieces. Yet somehow, even as a preteen, Izuku had defied certain death and emerged victorious, again and again.

The humiliation was far-reaching. Sangheili and Jiralhanae warriors—some of the Covenant’s most seasoned—had been so shaken by the experience of facing this indomitable "Wraith" that many had quietly retired, unable to bear the shame. For Truth, this embarrassment was compounded by the fact that Izuku’s influence had only grown. His rebellious spirit, and more disturbingly, his music, had infected the Covenant ranks, too popular now for even Truth to ban outright without risking unrest.

Despite Truth’s best efforts, even with the use of human spies, he had been unable to track down the elusive human. Izuku had slipped through every net, every trap, leaving only his name and his legend.

“Where is that Izuku!?” Truth’s voice echoed through the chamber, his frustration barely contained.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance,” came a calm, smoky voice. Kurogiri, wreathed in dark mist, materialized before him, holding a photograph of Izuku. “I believe this is the one you seek.”

As Kurogiri spoke, a hulking Jiralhanae warrior, Krag'Zarak, overheard and strode over, his eyes gleaming with hatred. He bore scars from his own humiliating encounter with the Wraith, and the sight of Izuku’s image reignited his fury. “Where?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “Where is the human? I’ll tear him apart myself!”

Kurogiri met Krag'Zarak’s fury with unflinching composure. “All in due time. But first, there is another obstacle in our path—a target whose removal will clear the way to the Wraith himself.”

Truth’s smirk deepened, a glint of malice in his tired eyes. He had anticipated just such a moment. Without hesitation, he reached down and pressed a button on his console. “Which reminds me…” he said, his voice laced with dark anticipation. “Bring out… Pluton.”

One of the technicians froze, fear evident in his eyes. “But… your Eminence, Pluton’s weapons are still in the experimental phase—”

“Do you think I care?” Truth snapped, his patience exhausted. “This ‘Wraith’ has mocked us for long enough. Whatever Pluton’s state, he will end this human, once and for all.”

The technician hesitated only a moment before complying. “If that is your wish, your Eminence.”

A low mechanical hum filled the chamber, and the floor split open as a platform rose, revealing a massive figure clad in dark armor that seemed fused to his very flesh. Pluton was a monstrous brute of a Jiralhanae, engineered and enhanced with experimental weapons. His body radiated raw power, a weaponized force barely contained by his armor.

Kurogiri raised an eyebrow, studying the towering figure. “This… is Pluton?”

Truth nodded, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Indeed. Pluton.” He turned to the hulking brute. “Pluton, you will accompany this man here. He will take you to the Wraith.”

But Pluton, in a blind rage, roared and charged straight at Truth, his powerful fists raised. Truth yelped, his earlier confidence vanishing in an instant as he scrambled back. “Not this way! Not this way! He’s right there!” he sputtered, pointing frantically at Kurogiri. “Go with him! That way!”