Disclaimer: Halo is not mine.
I find the story of the Forerunner—what we know of it—beautifully tragic. We'll see where Iris and Halo 3 take us, then I may write a thing about their last and no doubt terrible war with the Flood.
"Do it." Pause. "End it."
"What?" Shock, a wave of cold and horror. "No…that…no…"
"Yes. We'll hold them as we can. Give you time."
"The ships can…"
"No. I don't want…I don't want to die waiting for it. Let me die pretending I can fight them, that there's more we can do than just lay down and die." Silence, the song of the grave they dug for themselves. "There isn't, you know. Nothing."
Anguish, deep and bitter and filled with regrets. "This can't be…"
"It is."
Neither moves, though one must descend to both destroy and save, all in one blow. Eternity passes, it seems, though it is not enough time to find another way.
"End it."
The universe closes in, all its expanse narrowing to one corridor. There is no way but forward, to victory and death. "Yes."
