an ODST among Heroes.

S2-14

The UNSC First Reverie fired its thrusters, aligning itself parallel to the massive Halo ring. As its engines hummed, a slipspace rupture erupted ahead, swallowing the installation whole. The ring, along with everything around it, disappeared into the void, en route to its grim destination: High Charity.

At Forward Operating Base Alpha, hastily established outside the control room, the team regrouped. Kirishima entered the control room, letting out a low whistle as his gaze swept over the alien architecture.

“Can see why everyone’s so obsessed with this place,” he remarked.

Halsey, seated near one of the control consoles, caught a thrown nutritional drink from Kirishima. He cracked it open, taking a long sip. “More like a tombstone of a failed species,” he said.

“What were those things we saw earlier?” Momo asked, her voice tinged with unease.

“The Flood,” Izuku said grimly. “They’re... a plague. A parasite that consumes and corrupts anything with a mind. Right now, they’re preoccupied with the surviving Covenant forces. That should buy us enough time to reach High Charity, where I’ll fire the ring and end this war myself.”

Momo’s eyes widened. “Firing the ring? Izuku, what are you saying?”

Izuku glanced at her, his expression resolute. “This ring can only be fired manually. And I’ll be the one to do it.”

Momo frowned, her concern growing. “What exactly is your plan?”

Before Izuku could answer, Abject Testament floated into view, its glowing orange photoreceptor fixed on the group. “Ah, Reclaimer,” it chimed, “our destination shall be reached in approximately four of your Earth days.”

Momo turned to the monitor. “You,” she said sharply, “what does Halsey mean by firing the ring?”

The AI tilted slightly, as if considering its words. “This installation serves a singular purpose: to deny the Flood any viable biomass with cognitive capability to serve as hosts. Activation will result in the cleansing of all sentient life within a radius of 25,000 light-years. Does this clarify your query, Reclaimer?”

Momo’s breath hitched. “Destroying all sentient life? That’s... that’s mass murder!”

Izuku’s voice was firm. “And this is war, Momo. The Covenant won’t stop with this instance of humanity. Earth has no defenses left, and we both know they’ve already found it. If we don’t stop them here, if we don’t wipe them out now, everyone you know—everyone you love—will be annihilated. Every. Last. One.”

Momo froze, her face pale. “But there has to be another way,” she pleaded.

Izuku shook his head. “What way? Look around you! We’re already fighting a losing battle. Outside these blast doors, the Flood are turning the Covenant forces into monsters. It’s only a matter of time before they break through, and when they do, we’re next. Do you want to be one of them? Do you want the universe to become the planet of the living dead? Because that’s the only alternative.”

Momo’s voice cracked. “This... this isn’t right.”

Izuku’s voice softened. “I know it’s not right, Momo. But it’s the only chance we’ve got. I’ve got nothing to lose anymore. I’ll do what needs to be done.”

Tears brimming in her eyes, Momo turned and ran out of the control room.

Kirishima walked over, clapping a supportive hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “You could’ve gone a little easier on her, you know,” he said.

Izuku sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m just running out of options, Kirishima.”

Kirishima gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t sweat it, Halsey. We all know you’re doing what has to be done.”

Izuku nodded slowly, his eyes distant. “I just wish there was another way.”

“You’ll think of something,” Kirishima said, grinning faintly. “You always do.”

“Thanks,” Izuku murmured, though the weight of his decision remained heavy on his shoulders.

---

The Prophet of Truth sat motionless on his command dais, gazing at the slipspace vortex beyond the viewport. He was not blind to the tactical situation. He knew they were in slipspace, and he understood the gravity of their predicament. But none of that mattered. His faith burned brighter than any star, and his resolve was absolute.

"The humans in the control room must be eradicated," Truth declared, his voice seething with righteous fury. "We will not allow them to desecrate the Sacred Ring. They cannot be permitted to deny us the Great Journey!"

Krag’Zarak, the Jiralhanae Chieftain, couldn’t suppress a bitter laugh. With a deliberate motion, he brought up a holographic feed of the security cameras. The display showed a swarm of Flood forms choking the only passage to the control room. The parasite seemed to pulse and grow as it waited, patient and calculating.

"Hierarch," Krag’Zarak growled, his tone wary, "forcing our way through means throwing what remains of our forces at the parasite. Even now, our numbers have dwindled to a fraction of what they were. We are at the brink."

Truth’s eyes narrowed as he turned toward the Chieftain, his voice rising with sanctimonious rage. "You dare suggest we stand idle while heretics defile what is holy? Do you presume to defy the will of the Gods? I have warned you once, Chieftain. Are you so eager to court damnation?"

Krag’Zarak’s fists tightened at his sides. "Hierarch," he began cautiously, "I merely—"

"You merely question the divine plan!" Truth interrupted, his tone cutting like a blade. "Do not forget your place, Chieftain. You sinned once against the Gods when you hesitated in your service. Shall I remind you of your folly? Shall I remind your warriors?"

The room fell into an oppressive silence. The tension was palpable as the gathered Sangheili and Jiralhanae exchanged uneasy glances. Krag’Zarak finally lowered his gaze, his pride momentarily swallowed. "I will do as you command... Hierarch," he said, his voice dripping with venom.

Truth smiled, the expression cold and triumphant. "Good. Then let us proceed. The Great Journey shall not be delayed."

---

As Krag’Zarak left the command chamber, his thoughts churned with doubt and anger. The Covenant’s once-mighty armada had been reduced to a shadow of its former glory. What had once been thousands of warriors and vessels was now barely a fraction of that strength. The promise of glory had led them to this cursed ring, but what they had found instead was chaos, death, and lies.

He moved through the corridors of the Covenant warship, his heavy footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. Around him, he saw the weariness in the eyes of his warriors, the Jiralhanae and Sangheili alike. They were at their wit's end, their faith shaken by the horrors they had witnessed. The Flood was no ordinary enemy—it was an abomination, a nightmare that devoured everything it touched.

Krag’Zarak’s mind wandered to words he had once dismissed. Years earlier, Atriox, the renegade Jiralhanae, had spoken of his disillusionment with the Covenant. Atriox had warned that their tribes were being used, their loyalty exploited by the Prophets for their own selfish ends. At the time, Krag’Zarak had scoffed at such heresy. But now, standing amidst the wreckage of their so-called holy crusade, those words rang truer than ever.

Even more haunting were the doubts voiced by the human known as Halsey. Krag’Zarak had encountered the human on Doisac, where the young warrior had spoken against the Prophets. Back then, he had dismissed it as the desperate slander of an inferior being. But now, he wondered—had the human seen what he could not?

As he walked, his mind filled with questions he dared not speak aloud. What if Atriox was right? What if Halsey was right? What if everything I have believed, everything I have fought for... is a lie?

Krag’Zarak grunted, shaking his head as if to clear it. Orders were orders. He would carry out the Prophet's will, as he had always done. But the seeds of doubt had been planted, and they were growing stronger with each passing moment.

Were we wrong? he thought grimly, his resolve faltering as the darkness of his thoughts matched the darkness surrounding him.