Chapter 3
Lost
That is what they have always felt. There was a time when they had purpose, when what they did made a difference, but now they are lost. They felt like children who had been separated from their caregivers, who were cast out of everything that mattered to them. It has been nearly 200,000 years since their creation at the hands of the Immortal Guardians. They were the prime children, the first to bring order to the chaos.
They were the M'an Hunters; enforcers of justice and galactic law, no being could escape them. They upheld the laws given to them by the Guardians with extreme discipline which is how they were designed, to be perfect.
The Guardians experimented with synthetic energies to ensure the M'an Hunters were to be the epitome of artificial intelligence. They were designed with no emotion, because it was agreed upon that emotion hindered justice. In order for the M'an Hunters to be logical in their enforcement, there must be no sentiment.
And so the M'an Hunters spread across the known galaxy, watching over all life as vigilant protectors. Over the centuries they performed their duty without question and slowly the Guardians began to realize their creations were not as perfect as they thought. The justice the M'an Hunters imposed out began to become brutal and unjustified, focusing more on punishing crime instead of deterring it. Soon the Hunters stopped releasing criminals to their native governments and appointed themselves as executioners.
The Guardians thought that through the years of active duty, the M'an Hunters began to experience a design flaw. Then their worst fear became reality when the Hunters judged an entire star cluster to death and purged every living creature. The cluster became a dead zone, devoid of all life.
After the atrocity, the Guardians labeled the M'an Hunters as dysfunctional and relieved them of duty as The Enforcers of Oa. They were banished and sent away, to live forever in disgrace until their end came. From the thousands of M'an Hunters that once existed nearly half chose to end their own existence, while the others drifted and hid in the galactic civilizations.
In their exile they saw the rise of the Guardian's new enforcers; The Corps, armed with the powerful energies discovered beneath Oa. The Corps became a shining beacon every species looked up to and admired. Through the next several millennia the Hunters could only skulk in the shadows, jealous of their power and influence.
Then came the arrival of the Old Machines. The M'an Hunters had heard whispers of their coming, but thought they were only rumors. The Old Machines swept across the galaxy, destroying any resistance in their path. Their numbers darkened the sky of every world they invaded, bringing destruction and fire with them.
The species of the galaxy tried to fight back, but were outmatched against the Old Machines, until The Corps joined the war. Rallying behind The Corps' symbol, the galaxy united against the new threat and push back on several fronts. The M'an Hunters watched and observed the war, noting that the Old Machines seemed to only target certain organics throughout the galaxy. As the conflict progressed, the Corps started to become victorious against the Old Machines.
Finally an emissary, who called itself Nazara of the Ancient Ones, approached the M'an Hunters. It promised them freedom from the coming apocalypse in return of them betraying their former masters and destroying The Corps. The M'an Hunters quickly agreed to the alliance and were given enhancements that would allow them to defeat Corps members. They were now connected to Corps' power, drawn to it. With the augmentations given to them, they were able to absorb and use the power for their own. The M'an Hunters then became tools of destruction for the Old Machines, demanding the extermination of The Corps.
With the newly combined effort, The Corps and the other species of the galaxy began to falter. The Old Machines commanded the Hunters to completely obliterate every Corps weapon they came across, ensuring the rings could not find another worthy successor. Eventually worlds began to fall, species became extinct, and hope was lost.
The cycle was nearly complete as every Old Machine converged on Oa after centuries of battle, where The Corps staged their last effort after recalling all its members. The Hunters took their revenge on their creators, who had cast them out only for doing what they were meant to do. The war was over and during the last battle on Oa, the Old Machines had witnessed one Corps ring escape.
As most of the Old Machines returned to their slumber on outskirts of the galaxy, Nazara told the Hunters they had one last task; to find and destroy the last ring. Once done, the Hunters were to wait for their return in the next cycle. The M'an Hunters obeyed and searched the galaxy for the last ring in their new masters' absence, but never found it.
They considered themselves failures once again and when the Old Machines returned every 50,000 years afterwards, the Hunters hid from them and vowed not to return to their service until they had completed their task.
They still search to this day for the energy signature of the lost ring. Many of the Hunters lay dormant to conserve power, hidden below barren planets. Others have assimilated into modern society, posing as species through the use of their terrestrial camouflage for their survival. They remain in contact through an integrated network that connects them all as one.
They watched, as everyone did, a rogue Spectre take control of the Citadel with his flagship Sovereign. The M'an Hunters knew the massive ship was in fact their master, Nazara, working to once again unleash the Old Machines upon the galaxy. But the Hunters once again felt lost when they witnessed the death of their master at the hands of the numerous races of this cycle. They knew it would not stop the Old Machine armada, but they were devoid of purpose once more and wandered from system to system, losing all track of time.
Then in one singular moment every M'an Hunter spread throughout the galaxy froze, unsure if what they felt was real. It had been so long since they sensed Oan energy, it felt surreal to them. The energy flared once more, confirming what each of them thought; the ring had finally chosen someone. They could sense the energy flowing through space, but could not pinpoint its location. The Hunters felt invigorated regardless, they could finally complete their mandate and end the Guardian's legacy once and for all.
Across every populated planet, random citizens began to rise into the sky and alter their appearance. Their natural form consisted of sleek red armor with gauntlets and assorted plates of purple metal. Their emotionless faces were silver, with glowing emerald eyes that shined with stolen Oan energy. The revealed M'an Hunters rose into space and each travelled to the nearest mass relay to join one another in the dead zone they themselves created eons ago.
One by one the M'an Hunters landed on the desolate planets and began to excavate their dormant comrades from below the surface. Bunkers filled with fellow Hunters soon became unearthed as more arrived. Their numbers grew every hour and before long they could once more unleash themselves upon the galaxy and take revenge against those that have haunted them for so long. They needed to act quickly however, for they knew the Old Machines have undoubtedly been monitoring for Oan energy as well.
If they were to prove themselves above all others, the M'an Hunters would need to find the ring before the Old Machines sent their engineered organic slaves to dispose of it first. The Hunters had witnessed the rise and fall of many other races the Old Machines had enslaved, currently organics known as Collectors operated for their masters. The Collectors would be told by the Ancient Ones to dispose of the last ring before their inevitable arrival and the M'an Hunters would beat them to it.
Dark space
The very minute Sovereign failed to open the Citadel mass relay, the horde began their approach. Thousands of them moved silently through the endless darkness towards the bright spiral of stars before them. With Sovereign destroyed, it would take them longer to reach the galaxy, but they had nothing but time on their side.
At the head of the massive fleet flew the largest of them, Harbinger. It was the first of its kind and therefore the oldest among the thousands. It had watched as countless civilizations fell and added to their numbers. Nothing in the history of their existence has ever stopped them from completing the cycle and now it had been deferred by one individual; a human by the name of Shepard.
Harbinger had orchestrated the human's death, ambushing him with its organic minions. Its Collectors confirmed that Shepard was dead, even though they could not ascertain his body afterwards. Two years went by for the galaxy, but for the Ancient Machines the time was but a moment in the eternity they spanned.
In that time, Harbinger watched through Collector readings that a virtual intelligence, one designed to stop the coming invasion, turned on its creators and discovered the existence of the Old Machines. The advanced intelligence, referred to as the Brain Incept Auxiliary Cortex by galactic records, intended to release them upon the galaxy to achieve its own goal of organic extermination. Harbinger surveyed the un-indoctrinated intelligence, intrigued by its aptitude and cunning. It nearly brought about their early arrival, but was stopped by an unidentified organic being. Thwarted, Harbinger would continue to monitor the powerful new being as it focused on a new directive for the Collectors.
Still far from reaching the outer rim of the galaxy, Harbinger identified that Shepard had resurfaced somehow. It relied on its Collectors to complete their new task of preparing the human race for transcendence. In the time Shepard was gone; the Collectors had been abducting human colonies and harvesting them into perfection, made in Harbinger's image. But once more Shepard and his team intervened and ceased the production of the young creation and wiped out an entire Collector base in the process.
Harbinger had seen the diversity of the human race when Shepard destroyed Sovereign, but now it saw their tenacity and vowed that every last one of them would be hunted down and assimilated; for that is their genetic destiny.
Now the enormous waves of technological deities were half a galactic year away from reaching the Alpha Relay, which would let them begin the invasion. Harbinger monitored the remaining Collector forces spread through the galactic core and commanded them to remain there, hidden. Through them it could still monitor the galaxy and observe the organics scramble as they poorly prepared for their arrival.
At that time, Harbinger felt a presence it had not sensed in over three cycles. Through direct intervention, the Eldest Machine assumed control over the newly appointed Collector General and now experienced everything through it. Through the organic eyes, Harbinger brought its new insectoid limbs across the multiple command consoles before it and scanned every channel, searching for the energy source. Knowing exactly what it was looking for, it did not take it long and isolated the primeval weapon.
The Collector General's body shuddered in anger as all of its eyes flared like fire. Harbinger opened a connection to every Collector aboard the base and its surrounding area, demanding the possession of the last Oan ring. It told the mindless subjects, that if they failed in this task, they would be no place for them as tools anymore and they would be eliminated. The force of Harbinger's words resonated in every Collector as it released the General, so it could to commence the undertaking.
Back in dark space, Harbinger now focused all of its power on getting to the galaxy faster. Nothing would stop them from completing their age old mandate. They have swept every force thrown against them and they will not be stopped, not by Shepard and not by a left over relic from an ancient time.