Roses Born of Dust

by TallYapflip

An ONI Prowler is sent to a small system on the Southern fringes of UNSC space, just along the border with the Sangheili, to investigate strange signals coming from a planet within. He encounters strange situations, strange people, and the strangest world in the galaxy. [White Rose & Bumblebee. Rated "M" For later.] (All Re-writes complete)

43. Chapter 43: Heirs to Lost Empires

Chapter 43: Heirs of Lost Empires

June 30, 2686; 1031 Hours

Installation 07

Ivan stood up as the Pelican set down on the surface of Zeta Halo. The looks of sheer awe had yet to leave the faces of the Remnant natives. He was surprised to see two full fireteams of HELLCAT-clad Spartans waiting for them. Sure enough, Thorne got straight to work. "Lieutenant, I need your team to recover the activation index."

As the eight Spartans turned to board their Warthog to carry out Thorne's orders, everyone finally got an uninterrupted moment to appreciate the majesty of a Halo ring. They had landed on a strange 'island' of sorts, separated from several others by large, rocky chasms. This one in particular was nestled against one of the massive metal walls of the installation that kept the atmosphere in. A massive square pillar sat at the very edge of the island, backed by the installation's wall. Ivan couldn't explain it, but looking at this structure brought a feeling of dread.

When the second Pelican landed, allowing Salem and the platoon of Spartans accompanying her to step onto the soil of the installation, Ivan couldn't help but notice Ruby clutching her new cloak just a bit tighter to herself. "Is this it?" She asked, scanning over the large square structure.

"Indeed." Thorne nodded, gesturing for everyone to follow him.

As they approached what seemed like a sheer wall, Thorne produced a glove from his coat and placed his now-gloved hand against a holographic sphere, an unfamiliar Forerunner glyph appearing before him as the wall split, revealing the sterile white internals.

"What is this place?" Ruby asked, feeling the same dread as she looked inside. Everything was almost… too clean. "It feels wrong."

"Our ancestors called this place 'The Palace of Pain'." Thorne explained, removing the glove and leading the way inside. "It was a research lab. The Forerunners were… experimenting on Humans, trying to find a cure for the Flood."

As they navigated the halls of the structure, they saw piles of UNSC equipment ranging from scientific to military in nature. Eventually, they found themselves in a room similar to a Cartographer. The glass-like floor showed a seemingly bottomless pit, and Constructor sentinels prodded around the room, seeming to help a team of ONI personnel that were carrying a three meter-wide metallic device that looked like a bicycle wheel with a hatch in the center. Another group of Constructors seemed to be assembling a large containment unit just beneath the transparent floor. "The hell is that?" Ivan asked, seeing the rest of the group was well enough away.

"The only thing in the galaxy that gives us a shot at this." Thorne sighed, watching the Constructors begin attaching the device to the floor, right over the center of the new containment cell. "It's called a time lock. Does exactly what it says on the tin."

"Doesn't look Forerunner." Ivan commented, seeing the distinctly violet hues of the metal.

"It isn't. It's San'Shyuum." Thorne smirked. "Prophets were good for something after all." He accented his point by tapping his foot on the floor. "Everything beneath us will cease moving through time, but we'll still be able to communicate with these things… assuming this works."

"How the hell did you know this thing was here?" Ivan retorted, surprised that anyone other than the Forerunners would be capable of something like a time lock.

"Records left behind by the Forerunners. They found this device attached to a stasis pod on the last Human world they assaulted. Give you one guess what was in that pod."

"Christ..." Ivan muttered, shaking his head.

"Keep praying, I'm afraid we'll need it." Thorne sighed. "Join the others, we're not doing this until the ring's ready for a tactical pulse."

June 31, 2686; 0300 Hours

Installation 07

Thorne sucked in a deep breath after letting out a lungful of smoke, staring at the distant image of the Library about eighty kilometers upspin from his vantage point by the cliff's edge. "God..." He sighed, flicking the spent cigarette off the cliff, watching it quickly fade out of view. "Of all the bad ideas..."

Finally, he got the message he was dreading. The Spartans had brought the Index to the control room, and the ring was primed for a small tactical pulse, the only thing left was for him to give the order through his neural lace. With a moment of hesitation, he gave the order for all personnel still on the ring to evacuate, then sent another set of orders to the four Strident-class frigates that had joined the Eye. After confirming that the four relics were in transit, he took a moment to shove the feeling of dread down.

He began making his way back to the palace, seeing the others gathered outside, waiting for the time. Salem was still trying to use the 'magic' he had seen in both the Relic's visions and from Ivan's helmet recordings. Thankfully, that seemed to be tied to Dust as well, making its use off Remnant impossible. As he approached, he sent a silent signal to Ivan, Winter, and the squad of Spartans guarding Salem. All of them returned in acknowledgement.

As he approached, and the other began noticing a Pelican setting down for them. "What's going on, Thorne?" Blake asked, seeing the cold look on the director's face.

"You're all going back to the fleet. Only Ivan, Salem, and her guards will remain on the ring." Thorne explained. Before the others could begin bombarding him with their interjections, he continued. "I may need to fire this ring. I'd prefer it if only essential personnel remained here. Someone has to carry on my work, after all."

"And if we want to stay?" Ruby asked.

"Not your decision to make." Thorne deadpanned. "I won't let any harm come to any of you because I misjudged the situation… not again, at least. So please… do me this favor?" Seeing the sincerity Thorne was giving, everyone shared a glance and a solemn nod. "Thank you."

As everyone boarded the Pelican, leaving Thorne with Ivan, Salem, and the squad of Spartans, he let out another sigh. "C'mon… your Geas might be useful." Thorne nodded to Ivan, seeing the Pelicans carrying the relics begin descending into the ring's atmosphere. As they stepped back into the palace, heading for the control room for the facility, Thorne nodded to one of the consoles. "See if you can't lock down the structure, set the sentinels to combat stations."

At Ivan's nod, Thorne allowed the Spartan to set to work. He watched as four separate ONI teams filed in and out of the room, each of them carrying a sealed container bearing one of the four relics. The first three were dropped into the floor-mounted containment cell by the teams, with the lamp being handed to Thorne directly. He gave the teams the time they needed to return to their Pelicans before giving Ivan a nod.

As the Spartan pressed his gauntlet into the holographic interface, all of the blue accent lighting in the structure shifted to a pale orange, locking down the entire structure and bringing out a veritable fleet of aggressor sentinels that began patrolling the halls. After seeing another nod from Ivan, Thorne gingerly approached the small opening to the time-locked containment cell, taking a deep breath before dropping the lamp inside and activating the time lock.

At first, nothing happened, the relics simply sat on the floor of the containment cell four meters below Thorne's feet. After a moment, they eventually began to faintly glow a distinct golden hue. Before he really had time to consider looking away, the relics were replaced by a pair of three meter-tall figures in a blinding flash. Both were horned, humanoid figures lacking any distinguishing features aside from their color. One was a bright gold, the other a dark violet. After shaking the flash off, Thorne found both of the figures to be staring up at him, their lack of eyes in the sockets giving him an uneasy feeling, but he had become rather adept at hiding emotions.

Neither party spoke for what felt like an eternity, the 'God of Light' finally breaking the silence. "You aren't Ozma."

"Astute." Thorne nodded. He just made out the look on Salem's face, and she seemed enraged… but stable. "You told him, when you revived him, that if all four relics were brought together mankind would be judged. So… any judgements for us? Do we fit your ideals of the Mantle?"

"Ah… the Reseeding of Erde Tyrene did work." The purple-hued figure began. "It was a simple, barren rock when we passed it by."

"Pardon my brother, Director Thorne." Light added. "He's always been… combative. Before I answer your question, might I ask my own?" At Thorne's hand gesture, Light continued. "Is there a reason you went to all this trouble to bring us back, only to contain us here?"

"You told Ozma that if humanity was judged unworthy, you would wipe the slate clean." Thorne shrugged, surprising even himself with his confidence. "My job is to protect humanity, I take umbrage with threats like that to my species. We've already dealt with several potential extinction events, I'd rather avoid dealing with another."

"That was meant for his world and its people, not yours." Light responded. "You would go unaffected."

"I couldn't be sure of that. You Precursors have minds like mazes from what I understand."

"Still, it's impressive you care so much for a world you only recently discovered." Light added. "It speaks volumes of how far humanity has come. Were we to judge your people, I would say you've succeeded."

"And Remnant's people?" Thorne asked.

Light seemed… thoughtful for a moment. "I can say that great progress has been made, mostly with your people's guidance. The invasion, your war against the White Fang and its sole intent to bring peace rather than subjugate, your work to undo the generations of prejudice. Brother, your thoughts?"

Darkness spoke up, his voice sending a chill down Thorne's spine. "And you've even managed to perfect destruction… using it only when… necessary." He sounded almost exhausted when he finished that sentence.

"And let us not forget… you even managed to bring Salem here with you." Light finished, looking directly up at Salem. "This experience… both your people and hers, was a great boon for the living universe. I would consider Remnant to have passed this judgment."

"And that means…?" Thorne gestured for Light to continue.

"That Ozma, with your assistance, was successful enough." Light shrugged. "Mankind would never have been 'wiped clean' as you said. That was merely… call it 'motivation' for Ozma to carry out his task. Our goal was to have Remnant, and by extension Humanity, and by further extension all of the universe, learn. And it has learned. Remnant, our grand experiment… was successful."

Thorne was taken aback. Light almost sounded… emotional. "You used your power to create to find Remnant, your power for destruction to protect it, your power of knowledge to uncover further secrets buried within, and your power of choice to choose to continue along this path, despite knowing the dangers it would bring. For the first time in countless eons… I'm content. You have remade yourselves into a wiser, more noble species."

Thorne truly had nothing to say. He was half-expecting ceaseless talk of puny mortals and how unaware he was of their power, but they… congratulated him. "Huh..." was all he could manage.

"I understand that you would prefer we do not live among you, and that mistrust is fair." Light continued. "Another of our brothers, the being you know as the Primordial, brought nothing but pain and corruption to this universe. He considers himself the natural progression of the living universe… but he is incorrect. I can assure you… we are not the last of the Precursors, far from it. And I am perfectly content to let the grand experiment continue in your galaxy under the guiding hand of your species: Humanity. So… to answer your question: Yes… you do fit our ideals of the Mantle of Responsibility… and it is yours to uphold, as it was always meant to be."

Thorne took a moment to blink, stunned speechless by what he just heard. "What?!" Salem's scream broke the silence, drawing the attention of everyone else. The Spartans flanking her immediately raised their weapons, training them on her. Thorne couldn't see it, but Light simply waved a hand, and Salem froze in place for a moment. In an instant, Thorne watched as her skin tone went from the ghostly white to a more familiar fair complexion, and the blue returned to her eyes… she was human again. She looked down at her own now-human form in bewilderment as Light began speaking again.

"We leave this galaxy in the hands of your species, Director Thorne. And just as we left your people with choice, we leave you with a choice on how you deal with everything in the wake of this new age. Both Ozma and Salem are mortal again, and we will depart… but Dust and the Grimm will not, save one type of Grimm… the one that denies someone their choice rather than killing outright. Consider them one final task from us: use them well." Thorne watched as both Light and Darkness simply climbed out of the time-locked cell, standing on the transparent floor of the control room. "There was… one detail you missed in this, however. The time lock alone did not contain the Primordial, his stasis capsule did. Farewell, Director… and good luck."

In an instant, both beings were gone in another flash of light, leaving the room hanging in silence. Ivan and Thorne both shared a bewildered look with one another, then both of them settled on Salem, who was still staring at her distinctly human hands. "You..." she began, finally looking back up at Thorne. "You lied to me!" She bellowed, causing the Spartans to hover their fingers over their triggers.

"No, I didn't." Thorne managed. "You saw what I did, they weren't contained… they were humoring me." He managed a weak chuckle. "Spartan, you can lift the lockdown now."

"Bring them back!" Salem shouted.

"Can't, relics are gone." Thorne shrugged. He couldn't quite explain it, but this was the first time he was ecstatic to have a plan go wrong. As the orange lighting in the room shifted back to a pale blue, and the Sentinels returned to their normal duties, he let out a breath, which soon became a hearty laugh. Soon enough, even Ivan joined in.

After a few moments, Thorne let out another sigh. "Ivan, care to get a Pelican called down? I'd like to have a chat with Salem here." He sent a silent order to Ivan's neural lace, and the Spartan simply nodded and moved to leave the room.

As the door slid closed behind the Spartan, Salem and Thorne simply stared at each other for a moment. Thorne somehow managed to hide the look of disgust as he remembered everything this woman had done. The countless dead, the centuries upon centuries of enslaving the population of Remnant to fear, the death and injury of men and women under his command, and her catastrophic effect on people he had come to consider family. "So what, you think that just because I'm mortal again, that'll fix everything?"

"Afraid I'm not that naive." Thorne deadpanned, drawing his magnum and placing a single, clean shot right through Salem's forehead. The round overpenetrated, pinging off the rear Spartan's energy shields as Salem's lifeless body fell to the floor, unmoving. He waited a moment, half-expecting her body to twitch back together like he saw in her citadel, but it never did. He let out a quick sigh, tucking the magnum back into his underarm holster. "Dispose of the body." He began, his voice returning to the all-business ONI Director. "In a star if possible, but the chasm outside will do."

June 31, 2686; 0841 Hours

UNSC Baleful Eye, Sagittarius Arm

Ivan was unsurprised to see all of the team gathered in the hangar bay as the Pelican's rear door opened, letting him and Thorne step back onto the ship. The questioning looks on everyone's face when they realized Salem wasn't among them were immediately responded to by Thorne. "Salem didn't make it, I'm afraid. Byproduct of what happened on the ring."

"Good fucking riddance." Yang muttered, earning a smirk from Thorne. "What happened down there?"

"Classified." Thorne explained, his face shifting into a broad smile after a moment. "But… it seems everything went well. There's still the Grimm to contend with, but they won't have direction. I'm sure the Huntsmen and military can handle any attacks from now on. I can explain more at the debrief, but… I think we've won." Thorne allowed himself a small smile as the team all broke out into cheers.

July 7, 2686; 1931 Hours

UNSC Baleful Eye, Remnant Orbit

Thorne allowed himself a content smile as the acknowledgement blips appeared across his display, signaling that Remnant's quarantine was lifted. The others had already gone groundside, save for Cinder, but he had another matter to attend to.

After a mere few minutes of waiting, Oscar walked into his rather bare office space aboard the cruiser. Ozma was quite evidently the one present at the moment. "Director… what did you do? I feel… different."

"Solved the situation plaguing the planet, Ozma." Thorne explained, templing his fingers on the desk after gesturing for him to have a seat. "You'll be happy to know that your 'gods' are very much alive, and both you and Salem have been rendered mortal."

"Wait… really?" Ozma asked, stunned. "W-where is Salem?"

"I put a bullet in her head." Thorne responded bluntly, glaring daggers into Ozma's widened eyes. "Some long overdue payback for generations of slaughter and destruction."

"Why would you-" Ozma began, Thorne quickly cutting him off.

"Because I knew someone like you would be too chickenshit to do it!" He shouted, slamming his hands into the desk and standing upright. "You would have fed me some bullshit about being the bigger man, but this isn't a fucking schoolyard playground! I could have put her on trial, but the result would have been the same, would've just meant she had a few more years to waste oxygen in Midnight Facility. The only reason I'm not dumping your lifeless corpse out of an airlock right now is because I wouldn't be able to live with myself for cutting Oscar's life short. He had no choice here, but you did."

"You could've cut all this bullshit out at the root years ago, but you decided to send teenagers to do ONI's job. At the very least, you've made an effort to atone for what you did with Salem. More than I can say for her..." Thorne sighed, taking a seat again. "If I were you, the first thing I'd do when I got back to Remnant would be apologize for everything that's happened. You're like us now, this is your last life… don't waste it."

Ozma sat stunned for a moment, his eyes eventually looking down to the desk. "I'm sorry, Thorne… I've been fighting this war alone for so long that I forgot how to work with people."

Ozma was surprised to hear a chuckle from Thorne. "Believe it or not… I get what you mean. It's a good start, but I'm meant for war. You've got about another dozen people who need to hear it before me. Until then… get the hell outta my office." His words sounded stern, but the still-present smirk on Thorne's face told a different story.

"Thank you, Thorne..." Ozma added right before reaching the door.

"Just doing my job." Thorne allowed himself a chuckle. "And I mean it… make the best of it. This is the last life you're gonna get."

July 8, 2686, 1241 Hours

Remnant, Vale (Schnee Estate)

"Good look for 'ya, Ruby." Yang chuckled, watching her sister sputter as she took a sip of a drink she mixed. The atmosphere in the Schnee estate was lively, filled with music, friends, and copious amounts of liquor. Yang had been feeding everyone drinks, especially her sister and Jaune, the latter of which had just been convinced that a test of strength against a Spartan was a great idea.

Weiss was glaring daggers at her soon to be sister-in-law for making her fiance hack up a lung. "Seriously, Yang?" She asked, a smile betraying the murderous look in her eyes.

"Hey, just because I can't get drunk doesn't mean you guys get off scot free." She smiled her normal broad smile. "Besides, it's good practice."

Blake rolled her eyes, still nursing the very dry drink Yang had made her. Everything felt different now that they were home. The looming threat wasn't gone per se; the Grimm were still around, they were just feral Huntsmen were still needed, but it was more of a pest control job than anything if the Grimm truly lacked any direction. Thorne had already explained to them that Salem's existence would stay a secret, and that was probably for the best. The rest of Remnant didn't need to know what they had done, just that they had gotten it done. Judging by the fact that practically the entire planet was celebrating ONI's announcement of a 'major breakthrough in Grimm control methods', people were perfectly content with the half-truth.

Team JNPR was busy cheering on their leader has he was absolutely trounced in an arm-wrestle by Winter, who continually slammed Jaune's arm into the table. Yang was only half of the reason Jaune found himself so inebriated. Pyrrha kept egging him on to drink more in a very successful attempt to both make him more social and get a good laugh out of it. Ren and Nora did their best to console Jaune after his tenth consecutive loss against the white-haired Spartan.

Team CFVY were doing their best to behave, despite Coco's insistence that both she and the music be as loud as possible. Velvet was doing her best to keep her partner under control, with little effect. Fox and Yatsuhashi were happily availing themselves of the food Weiss and Ruby had prepared.

Sun and his team had spent much of the day by the pool in the backyard after Sun had tossed Neptune into the water fully-clothed, with Penny soon dragging team RWBY to the pool with her, Blake quickly shoving her wife into the water after a 'tasteless' joke about cats not liking water.

Cinder was rather content to sit on the patio chairs with Ivan and Thorne, happily sharing the bottle and box of cigars Thorne had brought with him. "So where's this fine selection that's worth more than my armor from, Thorne?" Ivan asked, smirking as he tossed the torch lighter to Cinder.

"Sigma Oh-Four, my friend." Thorne smiled, dipping the tip of the cigar into the liquor. "It's kinda' like Cuba, minus the communism, so it's the best I could do on short notice. Whiskey's just from some shop I saw that looked good, so I got it." He shrugged.

"Not bad..." Cinder nodded, lighting hers with the tip of her finger. "Both pretentious and attainable." Thorne let out a hearty laugh, coughing a moment later as some smoke had made its way into his lungs.

"Ya' know… it's weird not really having an objective." Ivan began, smirking as he watched Thorne recover from his coughing fit. "I almost don't know what to do with myself."

"Already cleared it with Lasky, you're free to stay at Beacon." Thorne shrugged. "You, Winter, and Yang are all semi-permanently assigned to the 1st Remnant Corps."

"What, we're reservists now?" Ivan smirked.

"Damn straight." Thorne nodded. "I mean, you're welcome to rejoin the fleet if you want, but there's not much to do. You can always go on patrol cruises with Bishop's fleet if you're especially interested in being bored to death."

"Point taken." Ivan nodded. "How about you guys?"

"I'm quite happy with my new career choice." Cinder smirked. "Best decision I've ever had made for me."

"Hey, you didn't have to join ONI, I just offered." Thorne shrugged.

"You said it'd expunge my record..." Cinder began, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Again, didn't force you." Thorne smirked. "Just gave ya' an offer that's hard to refuse."

"How about you, Thorne?" Ivan asked, smiling as he was made to make some room for Winter to sit beside him.

"I'll be with the Office for a few more years. Someone's gotta keep Cinder in check after all." He smiled. "After that… I dunno, probably gonna retire. Maybe buy a farm."

Ivan, Winter, and Cinder all shared a hearty laugh. "You? Farm?"

"Never done it, and it seems just low-speed enough to be a nice change from gallivanting around the Orion Arm." He smiled again. "After all, robots would do most of the work, I'd just be sitting in my house sipping scotch like a true pensioner, as God intended."

"Yeah, but who'd replace you?" Cinder asked. "ONI'd lose one of its best."

A smile crossed Thorne's face. "Why do you think I've kept you on the Eye?" Cinder's eyes went wide at that. "C'mon, you've got that whole femme fatale thing going on. You'd be like a young Parangosky, without all of the war crimes. When you make CICONI, just remember who gave you the job." He half-joked, playfully elbowing Cinder.

Ivan smiled, leaning back in his chair as Cinder and Thorne continued throwing jokes back and forth. This felt different than the other celebrations he had shared with his friends. For the first time, that looming threat wasn't there. The knowledge that something could see him donning the Mjolnir again at any moment was gone. Most importantly, his new family had made it out alright.

"Hey!" Ruby shouted from across the yard, holding her scroll out. "If you guys can take a break from being old, we're gonna take a group picture!"

Ivan shared a smile with everyone around him before standing up and jogging over to join in on the 'family' photo in front of the newest addition to the Schnee estate: the large rose garden decorated with green dust-infused stones.

A/N:

Sweet. Merciful. God. I'm happy to report that this is indeed the final chapter of the core narrative for this fic. It's been a wild fucking ride, and a MASSIVE thanks to everyone who's been here to read it. There's a reason I'm not quite ready to mark this as "Completed" yet, though. I still want to give a few characters their own chapter as a sort of multi-part epilogue, but the core of the story IS done.

Again, thank you to everyone who's been here reading. I'll see you on the next one. God speed.