Inconceivable
There were whispers of a demon.
Rumors were rampant throughout the Covenant of a demon, a human who decimated the holy ring. It was… inconceivable. Many pondered if this was possible, a human, honestly. Of all races, a human was considered to be the bane of the mighty war-machine that was the Covenant. The Grunts cowered in fear, the Jackals fled behind their energy shields, and the Elites snarled in rage and contempt. Each held respect for this manifestation of evil, this demonic figure. Only few had witnessed his awesome might. Garbed in metal, standing at almost eight feet tall, had might that even surpassed the superior Elites, it was inconceivable.
He was a titan among men. Besting even the gods, it was a nightmarish thought to the alien races of the Covenant. The thought of that blank, amber face staring at them, with the light from Threshold to illuminate the last thing many a soldier would see. They paled at the thought of encountering this demon. It was said, that he had even fought an entire army of the wretched plague that was the Flood. The Flood was yet another wrench in their plans to conquer, to carry out their God's whims. The thought of the grotesque parasites crawling over their bodies, overpowering their senses and controlling them. That sickly, horrible screeching that signified their presence haunted those who heard the stories, not to mention those who had actually encountered the vile creatures.
But, the Demon had conquered them as well. It was inconceivable.
Who could possess the strength to defeat them, and the Flood? Surely not a human, many thought he wasn't human, but a Deity of war. Maybe the mortal form of the human's Ares. They heard the god was bloodthirsty, a thunderous force unlike anything else that existed upon the plane of men. It was rumored that the demon had killed Special Ops Elites with nothing but his hands, or the butt of his weapon, crushing their spine or crushing their skull. Taking down the mighty Hunters down with naught, but the human version of their pistol. The thought of a Hunter falling after being assaulted with only a simple projectile was humorous to the naïve, but terrifying to others. What if the Demon was armed with a deadlier weapon? What if their enemies had managed to acquire one of their weapons, especially the coveted energy sword?
The Covenant realized that they could be defeated. It was inconceivable.
They couldn't be defeated, by humans no less. No, one human. It baffled them. One man, one god, one… force, could infiltrate the sacred ring, defeat all encamped forces, the Flood, and destroy the sacred ring. The Hierarchs soothed and cooed that this wraith, created by the imagination wasn't real. It was just the Flood, there was no demon. But eyewitness accounts and detailed reports that included him in it from their captains would sway their reassurance. Many a Grunt would fall asleep while on watch, and wake to find all of his comrades dead, many dispatched with a single bash to the head or back. Either that, or wake to a firefight that ended them with a bullet in their tiny skulls. It was frightening… Patrols would hear explosions, the staccato of the human's guns, and the sounds of their plasma weapons. Then proceed to investigate the area and find not a single human body, only the bodies of their brothers in arms. Scorch and bullet marks would decorate the room, signifying a battle. It was as if a spirit had destroyed their forces. A vengeful one. It wasn't scary, it was absolutely terrifying. You couldn't tell from the emotions displayed on the faces of the Covenant. With the exception of the Grunts, the others didn't seem phased by this revelation that one man could utterly destroy the Covenant. The Jackals' faces were always the same, conveying no emotion of any sort. But they way the crouched even lower to the ground if they caught of the sheen of sage metal. Green was a loathed color among the races.
It represented their enemies, the Flood, and the Demon. They spat upon the despicable color. The Demon's race was considered weak, even to Grunts. Their dated technology was nothing compared to theirs. Plasma versus their simple projectiles, the plasma was to win every time, their bullets were weak. Even a swarm of Grunts can topple a Hunter, as a hail of bullets could fell an Elite. Their ships were light-years ahead of the human's. It didn't add up. They still hadn't defeated the pitiful race, or managed to activate a sacred ring.
The Brutes entered the Covenant. Their powerful builds were intimidating. The Demon would even cower before them, or so many thought. Their sunken eyes, their tousled white manes, their sinewy muscles, they were even thought to be able to defeat the Elites. The Brutes also entered a frenzied rage if their comrades were killed; it was horrifying to face a Brute while they were engaged in this bloodthirsty mood. Even the Demon couldn't defeat them, could he? No, no, of course not, especially their leader, Tartarus.
Reports from the invasion fleet en route to Earth told of more than one demon. Five to be exact, one was killed though. Even in death though, it managed to destroy several Elites and the Grunts under their command. But even then, they managed to obliterate almost the entire fleet. Only a few ships remained. It was also said that the Demon had defeated several Brutes, one even with nothing but his gauntleted hands. He overcame it, not with only mind, but also with muscle. He was a hurricane, a storm of incomprehensible power. Ripping through forces as though an energy sword through a Jackal's tender throat, it was unnerving.
It was inconceivable.
While the Prophets sat in their chambers, tapping their chins, the Demon destroyed their forces, razed their fortifications. The Elites were being usurped by the newcomers. There was unrest within the Covenant. The Grunts were loyal to the Elites; they would follow if they seceded. There was the overwhelming possibility of a Civil War. They would tear each other apart; they would destroy themselves from the inside out. The Demon would surely act on this and finish the self-destruction process. The Elites and their followers would side with the humans… The Covenant could fall. No, at this rate, the Covenant would fall. Were they destined to be defeated? The series of events set off by the accursed Demon would be their downfall; they were in the midst of realization. It seemed that they were spiraling down the path to defeat. They would lose this war, it seemed.
It was conceivable.