Authors Note: At least, the next arc in the Zendou storyline has begun. I apologize for the delay, though I imagine many of you understand the pain of writing muses being a PITA. Anyway, this will be updated weekly, unless I manage to finish the last storyline prior to the last chap: I'll bump up the posting schedule to twice a week if that happens *fingers crossed she does not have writers block like that again*. Oh and this one is the longest of the series so far at 20 chapters (which includes this prologue).

For newcomers to the series: reading the previous four Zendou arcs is not required, but it is recommended, so you'd know what went on in Zeno's life prior to this story.

Unfortunately, this one I have to have rankd as mature due to content, specifically: slash pairing, implied rape, abuse and probably a couple other things I am forgetting atm.

Thanks to my beta for proofing this.

Disclaimer: Halo, Sangheili, Rtas, Thel/Arbiter and other canon characters belong to Bungie Studios/343 Industries. However, Original Characters, like Zeno, belong to me.

Prologue

The room was large and circular, roughly thirty feet in diameter, the walls made of stone which where finely cut: the floor was also stone, but covered with a layer of dirt and dust. Adorning the walls were torches, evenly spaced in a single row around the room, seven in all, which was barely enough to see in this dim, dank place. Above was a high ceiling from which iron chains of various lengths hung, the top of the ceiling he could not see, for the light did not reach that far. On one end of the room was a heavy, cast iron door, with only a small window from which to see beyond the room.

He could not see much through this window, but he knew what was beyond this door: freedom. However, the door was locked with a heavy padlock, keeping him from opening the door. On the padlock was a tear shaped symbol, which was obviously the type of key he needed to find. Yet, no matter how hard he searched, he could not find this key, leaving him trapped in this lonely room.

Then it came.

Oozing though window and the gaps around the edges of the door, came a giant amorphous blob. There was no color to it from what he could see and the torch light glinted off its slimy mass. Long tentacles protruded from this mass, probing and searching for him. He knew what it wanted and he kept as much distance as he could from it. However the blob, once fully in the room, easily took up three-fourths of the floor space, leaving him with little space to go. Indeed there was only one place he couldgo: up.

He ducked under one waving tentacle, before leaping upon one of the hanging chains and started to climb. The blob though, somehow sensed where he was going, the tentacles reaching for him. He kicked at one, keeping it from grabbing hold of his leg, but while he was distracted with that tentacle, another grabbed his other leg. It started to pull, trying to drag him down into its slimy mass, yet he found it wasn't that strong and that he could keep his position on the chain easily. However, he could not afford to attempt prying it off, not while other tentacles were seeking to get a grip on him.

So he focused on keeping the rest of him out of its grasp. The problem though, was that this thing didn't seem to tire, while he already was. Eventually, his other leg was seized, followed shortly by his waist. His grip was starting to slip by then and no amount of yelling and struggling improved that. Finally, his grip failed and he was pulled into the main body of the blob. He screamed in terror as he was sucked in, screamed until he was completely within it and the air in his lungs ran out and he started to drown….

Zeno woke up screaming, jolting upright in his bed. Wide-eyed, he looked around to confirm he was in his quarters on the Cairo and not in a medieval dungeon with a cheesy B-movie monster devouring him. Not again… he thought, rubbing his eyes. It was the second time this week he had this particular nightmare, a nightmare that had been reoccurring more frequently since he started having it about a year ago. He wished he knew why he kept having it: was the human food he had been eating since his assignment here finally getting to him?

With a sigh, he looked at the time. Dammit, it is only 1am, he grumbled. Way too early for him to be up. Worse, he knew he was likely going to be unable to fall back asleep, not without help that is. Sighing once more, he got up and headed for the small kitchen in his suite, ducking under the too low human sized doorway frames out of pure instinct. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and frowned at how much was left: only a forth of a bottle.

Human alcohol did not have nearly as much alcohol content as Sangheilian brews, though Zeno did not drink it to get drunk: just enough to dull his senses so he could sleep again. Hopefully what he had left would be enough to fulfill that purpose, as he certainly did not want to resort to going to one of the human bars on the station. He remembered when he used to do just that, until his friend Luke McGuire advised him that it wasn't good for his image as Sangheili ambassador. Since then he had kept his own stock in his quarters, which he made a mental note to see about refilling after his duties for the day were done.

Zeno downed the contents of the bottle, not bothering with a glass this time. It tasted horrible, as always, but he didn't drink it for the taste after all. After a couple of moments he got the familiar buzz that told him he had enough to help him sleep. Leaving the bottle on the kitchen counter, he returned to his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Within moments, he fell into an alcohol induced sleep….

All he could hear was the soft humming of the ships engines and the occasional muffled announcement on the intercom system that he could never make out. What light there was in this place was dim, barely penetrating the slight opening in the lid of this cargo crate he was in. All he could smell was the musky scent of the agyat hides he had been using as his bed and he had long gotten used to their pungent scent.

How long have I been in here? he asked himself. There was no means of telling how much time had passed since this one way trip started. Only the dryness of his mouth and the hunger pang in his gut told him that he had been in here for some time. At least, some time since the last time he dared to search for sustenance. Sustenance he knew he would need to hunt for again very soon, if he was to survive long enough to see this plan through.

He didn't know if it was the hunger and thirst, the darkness, or the crushing loneliness, but he was starting to doubt himself and this plan. A plan born out of desperation: to escape the life that he had, a life where he had no control, no sense of self-worth. It was cowardly to run away, but what choice did he have? Nothing else was working and there was little those that actually gave a damn could do for him. So he was in this crate, going to where ever this supply ship was going. Once there, he hoped to blend in with the local populous and find what he was looking for: a new life, a new purpose….

Himself.

Until then, he had to stay in this crate. He knew that if the was discovered, they would send him back. Send him back to that hell, that pain, in a cycle that never ended. A cycle he so desperately wanted to break, hence why he was here now.

You think you can do anything without me? A voice said in his head, a memory of what he was trying to escape from. Though the owner of those words was not here, he felt himself curl into a ball of fear regardless. HA! You are nothing! Nothing without me!

"Shut up…." He whimpered, holding his head.

You know I am right, you worthless little worm. You know I am the only one that cares a lick about you.

"SHUT UP!"

He froze instantly, all too aware that his outburst may have ruined everything. Nervously he lifted the lid of the crate and stared out into the dimly lit cargo hold, watching and listening for any signs of the ship's crew. Nothing was stirring and after several tense moments he breathed a sigh of relief: he was in the clear.

After putting the lid back down, he curled up once more, this time not out of fear but of desperation. I will not go back. He told himself. I will never go back.

He kept telling himself this, over and over again.

A/N: I know, short, but prologues usually are no? I promise the rest of the chaps will be longer. :)