Halo: The Voi Assessment

Prologue: 30 Years Ago

"FOR EONS I HAVE WATCHED. LISTENED TO YOU MISINTERPRET. THIS IS NOT RECLAMATION. THIS IS RECLAIMER. AND THOSE IT REPRESENTS ARE MY MAKERS. I WILL REJECT MY BIAS AND WILL MAKE AMENDS. MY MAKERS ARE MY MASTERS. I WILL BRING THEM SAFELY TO THE ARK."

Malcho awoke from another despairing dream. He had many of those lately and yet he could not tell what the exactly meant. Voices in his head spoke of someone reclaiming something and an ark. Noah's Ark, perhaps? He leaned up in his cavernous lair inside the full scale replica of El Templo Mayor that he had built as part of his headquarters for the company Omak Technologies and Magical Research. He gave his feathers a fan and spread his brilliant wings out. These past few nights, he could not get any sleep. His dreams were bothersome. They were nightmares at times. He saw what looked to be a version of the Horrors, spiritual remnants of that evil monster King Ghidorah come and possess every sentient being they came in contact with. These monstrosities were deformed and some looked like they were rotting away with faces bent backwards and expressions in frozen horrified screams. Strange appendages grew out from their arms which appeared to be made of some sort of harden chitin. He saw these little, almost jellyfish-like creatures scurrying around on tiny legs with tentacles stretching out to attach themselves onto other sentient beings. As they attached themselves, they spread their horrible virus and made more of those deformed monstrosities. Malcho could sense a bit of King Ghidorah in each creature formed from this virus. He saw millions upon millions of these monsters. It was a flood of these monsters, a horrible flood with no receding waters high ground to be safe. Then, he heard that cry again…

I will bring them safely to the Ark!

Then, he saw the remaining humans following some strange looking humans with rather tan skin and platinum white hair onto a space ship. They took off into a portal and disappeared. Suddenly, a blinding, flash of light filled the sky and the monsters were dead. Malcho would often wake up right after that just like he had done now. The Great Feathered Serpent growled and shook his mane. A single solitary feather floated down from the shake and Malcho's eyes lit up when he noticed the color. The feather was not its usual emerald green color, it was platinum white, much like the hair on the strange humanoids. He caught something shimmering near him and he looked over. There they were, the Array Connection Cords, the vary things that bring him his knowledge that helped him build his company to the megacorp that it is now. Flowing down from the glowing blue-green streams of energy was the knowledge that was once thought lost when Atlantis fell. Though Malcho knew that this technology did not originate from Earth, but from 'up there'. One of the reasons why he was so insistent upon going into space was so that he could show these aliens who have endowed him with this knowledge that he could follow in their footsteps.

He heard a whisper coming from the walls and he leaned up to see where exactly they were coming from. He rolled over and followed along the walls of his lair, feeling around with the claws on his wings. The glow of the cords provided him with some light, though he did not exactly need it because Malcho possessed eyes that could see far better in the dark than any other night vision technology produced by the UNSC. The Great Feathered Serpent came to a depression in the wall and pushed it in. The wall opened up revealing a cavernous room. Inside the room, there was a cyan-colored glow coming from the center. Then, his cords began to move on their own extending out and flowing like a river of shimmering light towards the glow at the center of the chamber. Malcho took hold of the cords trying to keep them from flowing away from him. Soon, he felt another tug and something taking hold of him, bringing him towards the center. Malcho slammed face first into the enormous, monolithic, glowing crystalline structure of the Tower of Atlantis. His cords wrapped themselves around his body and the Tower, keeping him pinned to its surface.

"Caramba…" he breathed.

I am so glad you are able to come join me, Malcho, began a deep voice emanating from the Tower.

"Who are you?" he asked, peeling his face away from the glowing structure.

I am the one trapped inside this structure, the voice replied. My mind fractured and splintered, spread across space and encased in other structures.

"This Tower has never truly spoken before," began Malcho. "At least not since I came into possession of it. I don't seem to remember Manda ever complaining about a voice trapped in the crystal."

The Guardian is not of any interest to me, the voice echoed. That is why I have never spoken to him.

"I don't seem to remember any of the surviving Atlanteans complain of a voice coming from their Tower either," Malcho continued.

They may be the direct descendants of my makers, the voice noted. But even they suffered from their own demise for not properly using my makers' technology the way it was intended to be used.

Malcho's eyes narrowed: "Why speak to me, then? What is the meaning of this?"

A war will start between an alien faction that has misinterpreted my makers' messages and the Children of the Ark, said the voice.

"So, that was you?" Malcho asked. "The dreams, my dreams, over and over again. What I've been hearing—that voice was yours?"

I tried my best to stop them, the voice rumbled. Three of them know the truth now. They will do what they can now to try and destroy the Reclaimers for fear that such knowledge will destroy their own faction. This war will be a war of survival all because these Meddlers feel the need to become gods, and because of that the Children of the Ark will die.

Malcho felt the grip loosen and he slowly began to slide down the surface of the massive Tower. His cords untangled themselves and withdrew to a more comfortable length, cascading about Malcho and giving light to his silvery feathers.

You have altered yourself extensively with the technology of my makers, he said. So much that now the very Array Connection Cords are a permanent feature. You hide them to stay under the radar of the laws passed on Eden.

"Eden…" Malcho breathed. "I haven't heard this planet called that in centuries." He straightened his feathers out and picked up a bundle of his glowing cords, inspecting them. "As for these laws. The 'Reclaimers' as you call them tried to reclaim their birthright and it backfired upon them. Almost destroyed this planet in doing so. Still, it couldn't stop the Horrors from coming."

Then perhaps then was not the time, said the voice.

"Who's to say that now is?" Malcho asked. "I came to an understanding that your makers passed their knowledge down to the humans out of sympathy. Your makers wanted to save humanity from the pulse that would potentially eradicate them. You had no idea of who you were giving your technology to. As much as I care for the humans, I also find that these people have no appreciation to the gifts they are handed. They still turn a gift of peace into a monster of war." He sighed. "Which is why even I agreed that Technomancy should be banned. Take away the loaded gun before it does anymore harm."

But you still play with this loaded gun, Malcho…

"I don't play, amigo," Malcho growled. "I study. If I could find a way to make Technomancy something that the humans could use not for war but for peace, for protection against the Gold Hydra, the way your makers wanted it, then I would."

The Hydra had been released many times in the past after the Children were saved and my makers perished, said the voice. By the very Meddlers who could indeed put an end to this planet.

"On purpose?" asked Malcho, horrified.

It was an accident, replied the voice. But you can see the dilemma that I am in. When they let loose the Hydra's virus, it was enough for him to form a body and he came here…

"So, that explains it," Malcho breathed. "Twice he came back since your makers did what they did. My dreams, they were not dreams. Those horribly disfigured, rotting, animated corpses…that was King Ghidorah's virus."

Yes, now you know. It will happen again. He will return once more. My makers came here curiously wanting to know why this planet was of so much interest to him. They found the humans and made them Reclaimers, saving their lives instead of themselves from the Hydra and all his incarnations. They knew that even with the firing, it would only just hold him back for a moment. He will return again.

"One of his incarnations did return, about a century ago," Malcho replied. "Before Technomancy was banned. It took all we got to hold him back."

It isn't enough. He will return once more. But I wonder if Eden will be left to greet him.

"What do you want me to do?" Malcho asked.

Save them.

"How do I do that?"

Take then to the Portal.

"And where is that?" he asked.

In the Cradle of Life…