The intense battle erupting at the peak of High Charity's Sanctum immediately alarmed the mid and lower districts.
On the streets below, vast formations of Covenant armored units, along with heavily armed Kig-Yar, Unggoy, and Sangheili warriors, began mobilizing under the orders of Sangheili Commanders.
Despite the growing rift between the Sangheili and the High Prophets, the Prophet of Mercy had not yet stripped them of their military authority. His plan had been to use them for war before purging them afterward. As such, while he had elevated the Jiralhanae's status, he had not yet removed the Sangheili from their posts.
The Sangheili, in turn, had only resisted by resigning en masse under their councilors' leadership.
Thus, the Sangheili military command structure remained intact.
Hearing the distant explosions, Sangheili officers rushed out of their upper-district residences, staring in stunned silence at the flashing lights and echoes of battle from the uppermost levels.
"What's happening?!"
"Why is there heavy fighting near the High Council Chamber?! Have we been attacked?!"
"Hmph! I told you—the Jiralhanae are unworthy! See? Disaster was inevitable."
As warriors clad in blue, brown, and red armor readied their troops, they exchanged heated discussions.
"Enough. That discussion ends here. Spread the word—lock down the city! Seal all sector passages. No one enters or leaves!"
Several silver-armored Sangheili councilors stepped forward, their ornate helmets marking them as superior officers. Taller and leaner than their brethren, they lifted their gaze to the fiery explosions above before issuing orders.
Due to their earlier resignation protest, a large number of Sangheili councilors, fleetmasters, and seasoned warriors had already gathered together.
"That location… is the Central Control Room! This is bad!" One councilor narrowed his eyes, pinpointing the most concentrated fire exchange. His expression changed drastically.
"Move! This isn't just about mocking the Jiralhanae—if the control room is compromised, we have a major crisis!"
"Let's hope those brutes can back up their arrogance and hold the line—at least for a while."
Drawing weapons, the mobilized Covenant defense forces began moving out under their commanders' urgent commands.
Just as the Sangheili councilors sprinted forward—
"Emergency broadcast! The Jiralhanae have rebelled!"
"This is Fleet Supreme Commander Phoro 'Mantakree. By direct order of Supreme Fleet Master Xytan 'Jar Wattinree, all forces are to suppress the Jiralhanae rebellion immediately! Anyone aiding the traitors will be executed without mercy!"
The title Supreme Commander was a high-ranking position within the Covenant fleet hierarchy, commanding multiple fleets—a vice-admiral equivalent, second only to the Supreme Fleet Master.
"This decree has been ratified by the High Council! Our god watches over you! Execute the order at once!"
The announcement shook High Charity as the booming voice echoed across its vast cityscape.
The advancing Covenant troops momentarily froze—
What is happening?!
"Phoro 'Mantakree? Fleet Master Wattinree? Weren't they supposed to be hunting down human strike teams along the Covenant's borders?!"
The Sangheili councilors stopped in their tracks, exchanging bewildered looks as Phoro 'Mantakree's golden-armored figure appeared on the massive citywide display screens.
This order… should they obey it?
From a military standpoint, exterminating an entire species was excessive—even if the Sangheili looked down on the Jiralhanae, full-scale genocide seemed extreme. Eliminating key figures should be enough.
Then, the gunfire began.
Their fellow Sangheili warriors had already opened fire.
A Jiralhanae warband was also approaching fast.
A councilor gritted his mandibles and made his decision in an instant.
"I trust Fleet Master Wattinree. Whatever the explanation, we'll ask later."
"Execute the Supreme Fleet Master's orders!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Zzt! Zzt! Zzt!
In mere moments, half of High Charity had been engulfed in the flames of war. Explosions rocked the city as plasma fire and the shrill hum of energy weapons filled every major thoroughfare.
The chaos brought back memories of the Unggoy Rebellion, but this conflict far exceeded it in both scale and devastation.
...
High Charity—Uppermost Level, Central Control Room.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bzzzt—!Zzzzt!
"Purge them! Let this land be bathed in blood! For Selene!"
"Warriors! For honor! Burn it all!"
The air crackled with disintegration fields, chainsaws tearing through flesh, and explosive rounds detonating upon impact. The Retributors pressed their relentless assault against the Jiralhanae defenders holding the Central Control Room.
Plasma bursts, thermal lances, incendiary rounds, and grenades illuminated the battlefield in a chaotic display of destruction. The very air seemed aflame, thick with the pungent scent of ozone and scorched flesh.
Even with their superior physique, energy shields, and thick fur-lined hides, the Jiralhanae were no match for the sheer intensity of the Imperial onslaught. No amount of armor layering could save them.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The streets leading to the Control Room had become nothing short of a slaughterhouse. Severed limbs, crushed skulls, and disemboweled corpses lay strewn across the blood-soaked ground. The viscous, putrid fluids of Jiralhanae fat and cellular matter painted the battlefield, while the repeated detonations left the terrain in utter ruin.
Among the advancing Imperial forces, golden-armored Custodian Guard and Silent Sisters marched forward, their numbers few yet their devastation unmatched.
SHING!
A massive power halberd met a gravity hammer head-on. There was no contest—
The moment the disintegration field activated, the Jiralhanae Honor Guard was instantly reduced to nothing but vapor.
The halberd struck the ground—
BOOOOM—!
A concussive shockwave rippled outward, annihilating everything in its path.
The sheer force of the energy blast carved a hundreds-meter-wide crater into the battlefield, erasing nearly a hundred elite Jiralhanae warriors in a single strike.
Watching the Custodian Guard unleash their fury, the Sangheili High Commanders, who had been ordered by Xytan 'Jar Wattinree to prioritize seizing the Control Room, could only gawk in stunned silence.
Their mandibles slackened in sheer awe.
Thud!
"This is going smoother than expected."
The red plume of his Aquila-pattern helm swayed as he turned. Standing beside Phoro 'Mantakree, the Custodian Prefect Hubbard gripped his ornate power halberd and spoke calmly.
As predicted by Xytan 'Jar Wattinree, once the Covenant leadership collapsed, the entire war machine fractured. Without Sangheili support, the Covenant was little more than a headless beast—disorganized, vulnerable, and easy prey.
Though the Prophet of Mercy had pushed the Jiralhanae into power, their rule had only just begun. They were still struggling to establish cross-species command structures, let alone field an organized defense.
"Commander Phoro 'Mantakree, well done."
"Oh… oh! I'll notify Fleet Master Wattinree at once."
The battle was reaching its conclusion.
Whoosh— SPLAT!
A wrist blade slashed through the air with blinding speed.
BZZZT—!
A plasma shield shattered.
Then—
The wet, sickening crunch of metal ripping through flesh.
Gurgle… gurgle…
As the corrosive, poison-infused blade withdrew, dark red blood bubbled and oozed forth, pooling onto the broken ground.
Just moments ago, they had mocked Supreme Fleet Master Xytan 'Jar Wattinree—
Now, the once-arrogant Jiralhanae Honor Guards were nothing but scattered remains, their bodies torn apart in a storm of carnage.
Splurt! Splurt!
Blood splattered onto the ground, reflecting Tartarus' enraged expression.
"Sangheili! You bastards!!"
Veins bulged across his forehead as he roared. Blood rushed to his face, turning it crimson—then an unnatural shade of blue. His thick mane bristled in rage, and foaming saliva spattered from his lips as he clenched his gravity hammer, muscles twitching uncontrollably.
Tartarus had every reason to be furious.
The Jiralhanae Honor Guards were the finest warriors of his species, hand-picked for their sheer brutality, combat experience, and leadership prowess.
Their role had been clear—to replace the Sangheili entirely.
After earning their prestige in the Prophet's service, they would descend into the Covenant's ranks, gradually assuming command of its military forces.
But no one had foreseen this—
High Charity, supposedly the safest place for the Jiralhanae, was now an all-out warzone.
And the Sangheili?
They hadn't hesitated. The moment they sensed something was amiss, they didn't negotiate, didn't scheme—they simply rebelled.
Now, it was over.
Tartarus could only watch, helpless, as the future of his species was slaughtered before his eyes.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"You speak of honor while conspiring with human heretics?! You have none!!"
His energy shields were shattered.
Multiple barbed needle rounds had embedded themselves in his chest and limbs, delivering a crippling neurotoxin.
Tartarus knew he was finished.
But he did not fear death.
"ROOOAR!!"
With a defiant bellow, he tore the needles from his body and charged.
Not at the humans.
At the Sangheili.
He ignored the Imperial Assassins slashing at his flesh, fixating instead on the silver-and-gold-armored figure standing among them—Xytan 'Jar Wattinree.
In Tartarus' mind, the Sangheili traitor was far more repulsive than the human executioners.
Hmph.
Xytan 'Jar Wattinree let out a cold laugh. He merely shifted his stance.
"A meaningless struggle."
BOOM!
The gravity hammer slammed down, blasting a crater over three meters wide and half a meter deep.
But Xytan 'Jar Wattinree had already moved.
He caught the hammer's handle, twisting it aside.
Then—
With a feline burst of speed, his dual-bladed energy sword flashed forward.
Tzzzzzt—!
Tartarus blocked.
But Xytan simply twisted his blade, feinting—
Then, in a fluid motion, he reversed his swing—slashing cleanly through Tartarus' forearm.
Blood sprayed as the Sangheili warrior spun, withdrawing his blade only to—
SHLKK!
Plunge it straight into Tartarus' side.
"HURRRGH—!!"
Tartarus collapsed, clutching his abdomen.
His guts spilled onto the floor, his body wracked with both paralyzing pain and the lingering effects of the nerve toxin.
The mighty Jiralhanae shuddered, his grip on the gravity hammer weakening.
"ROOOAR! Sangheili! Release the Chieftain!!"
A Jiralhanae warband charged up the upper-tier stairways, reinforcements rushing to Tartarus' aid.
"Retreat! Regroup with the heavily armored divisions before returning!" Tartarus bellowed.
Zzt! Zzt!
Before they could reach him—
Sharp, fluorescent flashes streaked across the stairway.
The leading Jiralhanae warriors stiffened—
Then, in an instant—
Blood erupted from their bodies as they tumbled backward, collapsing onto the stairs in lifeless heaps.
With the reinforcements eliminated, the Imperial Assassins holstered their Gauss Disintegration Pistols.
Then, as if their very existence was an illusion, their tight-fitting armor shimmered and twisted—vanishing entirely, merging seamlessly with the environment.
"Xytan 'Jar Wattinree! You Sangheili love to prattle about honor!"
"Hypocrites!"
SHLKK! SPLURT!
A pair of crimson energy blades sliced effortlessly through Tartarus' arms, severing them at the elbows.
"Honor? You filthy, mongrel apes dare speak of honor?!" Xytan 'Jar Wattinree sneered. "You truly thought your so-called 'Cleansing Plan'—conspiring with the San'Shyuum to betray us—would remain undetected?"
TUNK!
With a single, brutal stomp, he pinned Tartarus face-down into the blood-soaked ground.
He dragged the tip of his energy sword across the Jiralhanae's exposed throat, the burning blade searing flesh as he roared—
"Did those deceivers truly think my people were blind fools?!"
"Hold."
Just as Xytan 'Jar Wattinree prepared to slit Tartarus' throat, a slender yet armored hand—covered in ornate golden gauntlets—grasped his wrist.
He looked up.
The tall, imposing figure before him radiated authority even through the golden-trimmed crimson cloak draped over her gleaming power armor.
Twin Aquila emblems were engraved across her pauldrons, while a greatsword pulsed faintly with violet light at her side.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Imperial Custodian Guard, Sister of Silence."
Without further explanation, she affixed a circular device onto Tartarus' cranium.
At Xytan 'Jar Wattinree's questioning glance, she offered a calm reply:
"Fleet Master, this alien's memories may prove useful. Consider it waste reclamation."
BZZZZT!
"Please, madam! You must not do this! I must return to my Reclaimer! You are not human—you do not—"
Mere moments ago—
The Ancilla aboard the Forerunner Keyship had reactivated under Selene's power.
Upon sensing the genetic markers of Halsey, the Master Chief, and the other Spartans, it had eagerly emerged to introduce itself.
And in that very moment—
Selene had grabbed it.
"Enough with the pointless babbling. Human relics belong to me. You're not qualified to object. Activate the Star Map. Summon your Core Intelligence."
She forced the Forerunner AI fragment into compliance, her tone utterly indifferent.
"But… but this violates the tenets of the Mantle's Inheritance—"
"Violates what?" Selene cut it off, unimpressed.
"You, a fragmented consciousness that fled its Core, stowed away on a Keyship, disobeying its creators' will—and you dare preach rules to me?!"
The AI faltered.
"Besides—" Selene gestured toward the stunned Halsey and the Spartans.
"My will… is their will."
"What say you?" she asked them.
"Her Majesty may decide," Halsey replied without hesitation.
"See? Now get to work."
"But… but this contradicts the… the edicts set by the—"
"Didn't you claim to seek penance? To atone for your sins?" Selene's crimson gaze narrowed as she cut it off yet again.
The moment she uttered the words 'penance' and 'atonement,' the AI froze.
It twitched, its voice crackling with static as it stammered:
"I… am… a sinner…"
The moment Selene heard those words, she smirked.
She already knew.
After all—
If its Core Intelligence had been convinced by mere words to defect, then how could Selene—backed by divine authority and sheer force of will—
Fail to persuade a mere fragmented subroutine?
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