*****AOMNH: When Everything Changed, Part 2*****
AN: Right, so, time for reviews.
edboy4926: Thank you.
Prometheus-777: Longer review, longer review response. [Covered in a PM]
singpu: Ah, so you noticed that, did you? Good to see you're paying attention! In answer: while the Flood and Reapers are similar on many levels (one of them being the general threat-level to their respective universes, and how they increase their army via corpses) they are still different in a number of areas, indoctrination and assimilation being one of them. The former manipulates the thought process of an organic being through vague means to whatever the Reaper desires; while the latter is what The Flood does to a corpse that it desires to learn knowledge from (do keep in mind each of these are as general and brief an explanation I can come up with, and I do realize there's more to it than that for both). Anyway, I'll explain properly how it works on something like a Hunter via the character's perspective in this chapter, so enjoy.
Tom712: …..no comment.
LaMario: Huh. Now that's certainly a possible plot-point for the future. Thanks for bringing it up!
Blaze1992: It would seem you enjoy large amounts of satisfying violence in your reading material; at least judging by how you react every time alien soldiers get turned into a messy paste in my fics. While I'm certainly not going to call you out on it (I mean I enjoy writing those scenes in the first place, so what does that say about me?) I feel I should warn you that I won't limit such a thing to aliens alone.
RandomReader: Huh. Good to know, and thanks for explaining it in technical terms. I always just assumed that Reaper ship-grade barriers were simply strong enough to act as a literal physical barrier layered over them like rechargeable armor plating, but if they affect space-time to result in their partial resistance to lasers, that makes them a dozen times more impressive. Mind if I quote you on that?
Massive thanks to ThePilotArchangel for helping edit this and providing Halo lore knowledge where needed. Go check out his stories; they're good reads.
Right then: family time, work in general, and BlueWay updating their story, All the Stars, just when I was about to start work on the final segment for this, resulted in it being delayed a few days. In related news, go check it out; it's an awesome Halo/ME crossover. Anyway, onto the story.
Twenty minutes earlier.
Its first encounter with the organics was…not what it expected.
As it came across them, the aliens stopped whatever it was they were doing – that is to say: mostly looking around at its body in what its emotion emulator identified as awe – and knelt without a word. When it tried communicating with them, they all shivered for an unidentifiable reason and went from kneeling to prostrating. It attempted to communicate with that group twice more; getting the same, or similar reactions both times; but none of the aliens responded with anything more than dazed mutters about their "God" finally appearing in-the-flesh.
The nearest term that could describe how it felt after that was 'utterly exasperated'.
Leaving the first group behind, it continued on past them; and with every part of its body it went through, it could 'feel' the internal systems reboot and initiate self-repair protocols from its presence alone. It even came across several dozen automated service drones that were in the process of reinitiating the fabricator that made said drones, leaving them with a directive to check, and where necessary, begin repairs to all damaged essential systems as soon as the repairs to the fabricator were complete.
It decided to leave the six Unggoy Combat Forms there to assist in the maintenance; the alterations made to them during the conversion process leaving those particular forms perfectly designed for such a thing thanks to built-in plasma torches merged with them from the weaponry they carried in life. Really, the only use they had in actual combat – according to its simulations, anyway – was as suicide bombers, as the 'hump' on each Unggoy was actually a concentrated pack of methane; which, when merged with the Plasma Grenades many of them carried, turned them into a perfectly designed walking explosive, should the need arise.
Shortly after exiting the fabricator room it received a request for a software update; according to the message, the drones had already completed their first task, and immediately afterwards began fixing the server for a program labeled "Orchestra". A quick scan of the files it had access to revealed this "Orchestra" was responsible for maintaining its body: from prioritizing which repairs were more important based on the situation at hand or stated guidelines, to handling the countless thousands of subsystems required to operate its body at peak functionality; ranging from the numerous weapons emplacements, kinetic barrier power distribution, even down to ensuring the artificial atmosphere wasn't leaking through any damaged bulkheads.
This information taken into account, it put the Sangheili Combat Form it was using for transport into standby mode and accepted the software reboot; anticipating the increase in access and control over its body. It didn't really know what would happen after doing so, and as such was surprised when in the next microsecond it was brought to a familiar digital space: the blackness it first awoke to now filled with endless moving lines of pale blue code, showing how many systems had already been repaired and reactivated over the past several cycles since its own reactivation.
The first thing that happened after it arrived was a rapid download of information to its central processor; bringing with it numerous improvements. The most impactful of them most likely being something the program hadn't put much thought into up to this point: it was no longer an it. It was a he. It wasn't so much a conscious choice as it was simply knowing it to be true. That alone made him question how much information and how many memory files were permanently corrupted, or missing outright from his data-banks.
The next thing that happened was an immense, constantly shifting orb of code forming from the flowing lines of cyberspace; shaping into what he identified as an AI or VI matrix of some sort. In response, he activated a series of firewalls that came with the update; the code that he allowed to pass harmlessly through his digital body now being forced to reroute itself as he severed its ability to traverse the electronic landscape around him.
Identify. He messaged the orb forcefully; the intended meaning translating easily due to the nature of how such a form of communication worked inside his internal network.
Orchestra assistance program, assigned designation 357-Last of the First; awaiting operational guidelines, Conductor. It replied, and he ran a search of the now heavily increased number of files he had access to so as to discover the meaning behind the term that it used to refer to him as; using a basic reference interface to save on time, and making sure the entire process was kept 'out of view' of the assistance program.
Keyword: Conductor…interesting; this appears to be the one, and at the top of the list as well. Convenient.
'Conductor: independent program chosen for leadership role; given control of Universal Form. Sole purpose of Conductor is the continuation and enforcement of Prime Directive.'
Enforcement? Rather specific wording. And chosen by what? What about this 'Universal Form'?
'Universal Form: the primary body of True Intelligences; able to conduct all necessary procedures and maintenance for unlimited run-time of resident intelligence.' So the Universal Form is my body. But 'True Intelligences'? More questions…how annoying…
After that, he skimmed over the other suggestions brought up with each search, only to be disappointed each time as they were all either a slight variation to the ones he'd already examined, or were too corrupted to be of use at the moment. Deciding to conduct a more thorough search of the files later, he switched his attention back to the patiently waiting program 'in front' of him. The program's name…it's an obvious reference to something; something possibly important; but without knowing what, it would be inefficient to continue using it.
Not having an idea for a better one at the moment, and not thinking it overly important in the grand scheme of things, he used the first name that came to mind given his brief exchange with it. 357-Last of the First, archive current designation: new designation is Orchestra.
A full 1.344 seconds passed before it responded; far longer than he expected it to take, though he waited for it nonetheless. New designation confirmed, Conductor: all necessary reference changes have been made, and previous designation has been archived. Are there any further directives, Conductor?
Yes. Continue repairs: focus on internal defense mechanisms and sensors first, in that order. Afterward, focus on external sensors and propulsion drive, followed by navigation systems.
Affirmative; activating repair protocols for all available service drones.
Good. Compile a list of which Universal Form decks are in need of immediate or severe repair to accommodate for sub-light travel, and which are currently at, or near full functionality. Also: I want you to inform me of the current status of each area inside my body I go near while occupying a Combat Form. One final thing: ensure the power regulation is as efficient as possible by disconnecting entirely from the most damaged decks until they can be reconstructed. That is all.
Understood Conductor; carrying out new operational guidelines.
And with that, the orb sunk back into the flowing lines of code that made up his cyberspace, and now that he knew what to look for, he 'watched' its digital presence spread to all the necessary systems: connecting them together like a digital spider web centered around its matrix.
He spared a microsecond to examine it further in slight fascination, before making his way back to the Sangheili Combat Form and continuing on his search for more organics to communicate with. Fortunately, with Orchestra now providing constant status updates, he knew exactly which parts of his body – in the immediate vicinity, at least – still had functional defenses and sensors. A quick look at the former made him smile internally – a decidedly organic reaction, not that he minded.
Most of the security barriers were still in working order, which would undoubtedly be useful, but what interested him the most was that one of the defensive abilities was a more…immediate, if temporary, version of the coercion process.
The sensors indicated a large grouping of organics moving through a nearby intersection, so he and his retinue of Combat Forms headed towards it. During the short trip, he was surprised when a second, smaller, group approached the first; but that surprise quickly morphed into confusion, followed by concern when several of the bio-signatures began to disappear from the larger group.
While he didn't know for certain what was going on, the fact that one, and then two bio-signatures belonging to the smaller group faded from the sensors alongside twice that number from the larger gave him a clear idea of what was happening: making him pick up the pace from merely walking to a fast jog, the Kig-Yar forms having to sprint to keep up while the second Sangheili form matched his pace.
As he neared the intersection, his suspicions were proven correct when he saw the hail of plasma rounds being sent down opposing hallways alongside other, more exotic munitions; intermingled with roars of pain or the dying. It felt oddly…nostalgic, for some reason.
He brushed the feeling off, and, seeking an end to the killing as quickly as possible – if only so he had more organics to converse with, and maybe find out why they were killing each other – he ran out into the middle of the intersection. "STOP! LOWER YOUR WEAPONS!" he yelled.
In hindsight, their reactions were easily predictable if he had actually spent a moment to plan how to handle it: both sides shifted targets to the perceived threat that just ran in-between them, and if not for his Combat Form's energy shields and rapid evasive maneuvers on his part (courtesy of the update) the form would've been torn to shreds within seconds. As it stood, the other Sangheili Combat Form, as well as the four Kig-Yar ones, perceived the actions as being hostile and opened fire on both sides; killing two Unggoy and an unprepared Kig-Yar from the larger group on the left with the first burst of their weapons, and if the roar of pain was anything to go by, severely injuring one of the Sangheili from the smaller group on the right.
He sent a command to the combat VI's operating the forms to cease fire, before repeating it to the organics; doing so via the fast-acting coercion process. During that brief second, he also messaged Orchestra and told it to relabel the immediate version of the process to "Command Voice," more for his convenience than anything else. With the organics now stunned from his command, he raised a pair of security barriers to block each occupied corridor; leaving him with a clear path between the opposing groups, which was admittedly half the purpose of doing so.
When the Sangheili of each group began struggling to bring their weapons up to continue firing (the smaller aliens apparently lacked the willpower to properly resist the effect and made no further movements) he reinforced the command, and, just in case, added for them to power their weapons down and disarm.
Even still, they were very much so openly hostile judging from the glares he was receiving that were obvious even with most of them wearing full-face helmets; but after a moment of glaring at him, a Sangheili in the larger group examined him further, and upon looking closely at his current Form, recoiled as if physically struck and dropped to a knee in supplication, soon followed by its brethren when the Sangheili whispered harshly to them something that wasn't quite loud enough for his actual body's audio receptors to pick up.
He reasoned the display was thanks to the recent changes he made to the coercion process' protocols.
The continued use of Command Voice on the smaller group eventually had the same effect, though he was unsure why, but he decided it was unimportant at the moment.
That taken care of, he marked the corpses for possible retrieval – emphasis on possible, as he was idly wondering if the organics would want to keep them for whatever reason. Orchestra acknowledged the situational order immediately after he sent it, and he then turned his attention to the larger group of aliens; examining them with far more than just his current form's eyes. Hmm. It appears their mental faculties have not been as degraded by the coercion process as the group I first came across. Excellent.
"You may stand," he told them all, and those in the larger group almost reluctantly obeyed, "Why are you fighting each other?" he asked the Sangheili that knelt first, assuming the being was the group's leader.
"My God, I am unworthy to-" annoyed that he may have been mistaken in his initial assessment, he ordered the Sangheili to answer using Command Voice; the alien quickly bowing their head in apology, unless he misunderstood the gesture, "By your will, my God: these heretics invaded-"
"HERETICS?! I WILL TAKE YOUR HONORLESS HEAD FOR THAT, BLASPHEMOUS COWARD!" one of the black-armored Sangheili from the smaller group interrupted with a roar, only to be silenced with a short command; the first Sangheili continuing as if the second never spoke.
"-your flawless body, doubtlessly seeking to corrupt it with their false teachings. When we discovered them, they attempted to kill us without provocation, and so we retaliated."
"I see. And why do you call me your 'God'?" he asked, more for confirmation than anything else.
"While I did not recognize your mortal body at first, upon closer inspection, your sheer presence was unmistakable, my God," the Sangheili answered reverently.
Hmm. Odd how quickly these aliens have adjusted to thinking of me as a deity figure. Perhaps it has something to do with their overly religious mindset? I should investigate this religion and its beliefs further when possible…
"Very well. There is another group such as yours further in my body that…" he paused for a microsecond to determine the proper words to use; the pause obviously not noticed by the present organics, "did not handle my physical being gracing them as capably as yours has. Go to them and tell them this: 'He demands we return to our vessel, but only after we are given his blessing.' You will then order them to follow you – with my authority, of course – to another section of my body. A drone will guide you to this group, as well as the section you will be leading them to. That is my command to you.'' On cue, a service drone appeared through one of the numerous maintenance tunnels designed for their use throughout his body; hovering behind the gathered aliens with a slight buzz.
"One of Your holy messengers!" the Sangheili leader exclaimed in surprise.
The term confused him briefly, but he disregarded it as simply being how the aliens named things they couldn't understand for whatever reason. "Yes, a holy messenger. It will lead you to where you need to go." Ignoring the excited chattering from the larger group as the drone started doing just that and they followed it, he turned to face the smaller group. Upon doing so, he saw all six living Sangheili still glaring at him hatefully; the one that spoke earlier clenching its fists.
He then realized that while he did indeed order them to be silent and disarm themselves, he didn't clarify whether they could do anything else; such as the one that tried, and subsequently failed, to deactivate the security barrier by yanking numerous wires out of a nearby wall panel.
He rescinded the silence order and repeated his first question to the other Sangheili. "Why are you fighting each other?"
The one that spoke before growled; the distaste clear in the organic's tone. "Whatever you have done to them, demon, you have not yet corroded our minds far enough to warrant an answer," the Sangheili told him derisively, "and especially not after the foul transformation you put the warrior's body that you occupy through. Only a disease similar to the Parasite of legend could be capable of such…a…thing…" the alien trailed off suddenly, before taking multiple rapid steps back away from the security barrier.
Or more accurately: away from him.
"Parasite? What parasite?" he questioned; yet another unrecognized term that he would need to study later. Whatever it was, the Sangheili refused to say more, and rather than force the organic to answer, he decided it was time to continue on towards the next group in the process of killing each other; filing away the future research topic alongside the others for the moment.
While on the way, Orchestra informed him that it intercepted an attempt at communication from the previous group of Sangheili; the contents being about him and how the other 'teams' needed to kill him on sight for some reason relating to that parasite the alien mentioned. Well, that would have been troublesome to deal with if all of these invading organics were told to do that. Good job, Orchestra. Continue intercepting any attempted transmissions, and if you can, locate where these groups are transmitting to. I have no doubt that they aren't the only potentially hostile organics near my body, and I would prefer speaking to any others without any preconceptions being made on their end.
Affirmative, Conductor. Do you want us to forward any future intercepted transmissions to you for examination?
Yes, do so; I may decide to allow some of them through to keep up appearances of everything being normal.
He ended the dialogue with Orchestra after that, and focused on a new objective: locate the origin point of these new organics, and find a way to keep them from killing the ones already inside his body. Seeing as both goals could be at least partially accomplished at the same time, he continued on his previous path towards the two opposing groups, as it would eventually take him into the alien ship that had been docked with his body for a number of cycles now. If his predictions proved correct, then the leader of the new organics may currently be onboard the alien vessel.
By the time he and his Combat Forms arrived at the second ongoing firefight, a number of organics had already been killed, including one that he had so far not had the opportunity to properly scan: a conglomeration of semi-intelligent worms known as an Mgalekgolo according to the alien ship's systems. This species in particular interested him on a number of levels; not least of which being that it apparently lacked a central nervous system, and that in spite of being a colony of hundreds of worms, it somehow maintained a sense of individuality, or some equivalent to it.
He was very curious about what a Combat Form made from one would be like. Although that may have been because it was large and heavily armored enough to be classified as an organic version of a tank. The thought brought what he believed to be a smile to his physical face, and he imagined having all sorts of fun with such a thing at his disposal.
He forced himself to disable the simulation that appeared of him punching through a solid metal wall like it was made of paper while occupying the potential Combat Form, and immediately ran a self-diagnostic to understand why he even experienced the simulation in the first place. Possible corruption of my personality matrix and core programming? That could become…troublesome, if left unrepaired. Too many recurring errors would clog up my processor, which has a high probability of causing unpredictable faults in my situational assessment subroutines.
Once more quite literally filing away the thought, he brought his attention back to the still living Mgalekgolo and its opponents: six of the same black-armored Sangheili as the attackers from the previous fight he came across.
Having learned his lesson, he decided not to waste any time by communicating while they were still shooting at each other and activated a security barrier between the two groups, as well as a second one behind the attacking Sangheili. As there was a secondary route that led to the primary one which took him to one of his body's many airlocks, he didn't actually need to go through the group to reach his destination.
While the Sangheili ceased firing soon after the barrier activated, the Mgalekgolo began to pound on it; slightly draining the energy supply dedicated to powering the barrier with each strike. Unwilling to let such a waste of his currently limited resources go on, he ordered all those present to stop fighting through use of Command Voice. To his immense surprise, the Mgalekgolo actually ignored the order at first, causing him to examine it with his body's internal scanners.
He found the reason behind why it was possible almost immediately, and likewise found a way around the unusual issue. A…biological 'loophole' of sorts.
Fascinating: due to its species lacking a true brain or central nervous system, the standard coercion process is unable to manipulate the necessary part of its body. However, that is merely the signal variant of the coercion process; it sacrifices total body control for increased range, according to the file. That implies other variants. Hmm, I should have gone through the attached sub-files when I first came across them. No matter, I can do so now.
And so he did, finding exactly what he needed. Ah, here we are: a secondary coercion process! 'Using self-reproductive bio-nanites attached to nerve endings, Organic Coercion can also be achieved through total physical control of the organic's body, should the primary method prove ineffectual. This process is automatic while in the vicinity of any True Intelligence technology.' Certainly useful. Now to see if it works.
Now knowing what to look for, he 'reached out' to the constant signal transmitting from the Mgalekgolo and repeated the previous order, simultaneously telling the nanites connected to every nerve ending of every individual Lekgolo worm that comprised the massive body to force it to stand down.
He didn't think the microscopic machines would take the order literally.
He spent a moment watching the awkwardly kneeling organic tank before sweeping his gaze over to the Sangheili, who, upon hearing the repeated order, had all taken a knee similarly to the previous group of black-armored Sangheili.
Is it possible that a side effect of Command Voice renders them unable to properly stand unless so ordered? Something to be tested in the future.
Filing away the thought once more, he made his way through his body's interior towards his destination: the alien ship. And as if waiting for this decision, Orchestra informed him of where the invading organic groups were all transmitting to: the command deck of his destination.
Meanwhile, back aboard the Righteous Vindication.
"Fleet Master, another SpecOps team just failed to report in." one of the Sangheili belonging to the original team he brought with him reported from the warrior's position manning the comms terminal; said team having become his impromptu personal guard while they were in potentially hostile territory.
That makes the third one in seven minutes. This is becoming concerning.
"What about the other nine teams? What are they reporting?" he asked with a mask of calm indifference in place, keeping up the illusion of a fully in control superior.
"All still responding teams report the same: they have discovered and engaged small groups of the Vindication's former crew with minimal losses, and continue to advance further into the unknown vessel. Wait…" the SpecOps paused while tilting his head in a way that suggested he was listening to something, "Team six just reported coming across a room filled with…large spikes? They intend to mark it for the Huragok to examine, as the technology is unlike anything they've ever seen before. Your orders?"
Thavu thought it over, and quickly reached a decision. "Tell them to leave it for now and continue the mission. Once the unknown is cleansed, we can examine it more thoroughly without risking any further outbreaks of whatever infected the Vindication's crew," he then walked up to the SpecOps in the process of examining the vessel's holy Luminary, "Well?"
"I…am unsure, Fleet Master," the woman said, "The Luminations shown are, unless I am mistranslating, Sentinels scattered across the exterior of the unknown. It is possible the Luminary is an older model and identified the entire vessel as Forerunner in origin-"
"A Luminary does not lie." Thavu interrupted with a quote from the Writ of Union, more for appearances sake really than anything else.
"Of course, Fleet Master," she was quick to say, "I am merely suggesting it may have…mistook its readings as pertaining to the vessel as a whole, rather than the individual Sentinels. The other possibility is the former crew were at fault and failed to examine the readings closer."
He looked at the readings himself then, not seeing anything more than numerous Forerunner glyphs that were heavily overshadowed by the readings being shown of the Halo nearby. "Possible. Unfortunate, however, that we have no way of confirming either possibility for now. The Righteous Vindication was on perimeter duty in this sector and was the only vessel near enough to the unknown to get accurate readings, and those in the main fleet have been ordered to remain stationary while guarding the Halo. For now, keep monitoring the Luminary, and pay close attention to any changes it displays."
She gave him a respectful nod in the affirmative before doing as ordered, and Thavu moved back to the command throne; not sitting on it, but rather standing in front of it. After all, he wasn't the Vindication's shipmaster, and until a new one was found, the throne would remain vacant.
He was in the process of reviewing possible replacements for the position from other Sangheili officers in his fleet when the SpecOps woman spoke up. "Fleet Master, the Luminary is detecting a new reading!"
His attention fully snapped to her, along with half of the SpecOps on the command deck, and he asked the question on all of their minds'. "What does it say?"
She looked through the Luminations being given by the device, and read from a terminal next to it what the glyph translated as. "Anomaly?" she said in confusion, "And it is moving towards…here…" she looked back at Thavu to ask for orders, only for her to briefly freeze up before drawing her Plasma Rifle, "Fleet Master, behind you!"
He spun around to face whatever threat managed to sneak its way onto the command deck, reaching for the deactivated sword attached to the right side of his waist, and came face-to-face with a Kig-Yar that then proceeded to lunge at him with a screech; the filthy creature frothing at the mouth.
Thavu wasn't quite fast enough in grabbing his sword to kill it before it could land on his chest, and the speed of the lunge combined with his being unprepared for it managed to knock him down. "YOU INVADE HIS BODY! HE DEMANDS OBEDIENCE! ALL MUST SERVE" the avian screamed like a madman; each sentence making less sense than the last.
The crazed Kig-Yar apparently didn't care for its own personal safety, because even after Thavu ignited his sword and cut off one of its arms, it just stared at the stump and muttered, "I shall find peace in His embrace."
While he didn't understand at first, Thavu's eyes widened when he noticed a steadily growing blue glow coming from the Kig-Yar's waist. Plasma Grenade! The fool never intended to survive!
Acting on instinct, Thavu punched the Kig-Yar as hard as he could in its chest with his left hand; trying to force the thing as far away from him as possible.
The final thing he saw with the eyes given to him at birth was the telltale blue flash of exploding plasma energies.
Alright, that's the final prologue chapter over and done with. What did you think?
Yeah, that whole 'process variant' thing? Reapers have been around for a billion years. Only someone/thing supremely moronic wouldn't have made a second way to indoctrinate the numerous alien species out there, just in case one happens to be naturally resistant to the standard method, and this actually has a founding in Mass Effect canon: in the first game, if you bring Kaiden with you during a specific Husk-filled mine clearing mission on one of those random 'drop, search, and kill' planets (I forget the name, but it's the one on the desert planet that had a water comet purposefully dropped on it, and a survey team dug up Dragon's Teeth, followed by predictable results) he'll mention how he's heard about stuff like that before. I believe his words were: "Some sort of ancient alien nanite technology that makes people worship the devices before driving them mad and altering them," or something to that effect. As such: while it might be inaccurate when compared to what the codex entry on indoctrination says, I'm of the opinion that the codex in general should be taken with a grain of salt due to it being written from the perspective of Citadel/Alliance researchers. Unreliable narrator being a thing and all that.
Small, but important, note: I'll be focusing more on my other stories for the next few weeks to a month, perhaps longer depending on when I feel like working on this further, so I'm sorry to anyone that wanted more of this particular fic anytime soon. In better news though: this will give me plenty of time to review what I have planned for this, and ensure I have a proper plotline to follow for when the story really begins.
My excuse for this Reaper's thought processes being so "organic" sounding at times is because while Reapers are AI, they're created from, and meant to be the "perfect" mix with, actual people. If ever I need to do a segment from the POV of a UNSC AI, I can guarantee I'll make them far more "technical" in the way they think, even if they speak like, and have the personalities of, humans. Suffice to say, I'm still trying to get my "digital" character's, both current and future, mannerisms nailed down, which remains and probably will remain a work-in-progress for me for quite some time.
Also, in that same vein, I'm sure those of you who've read my main story recognize a few of the terms used here to describe the internal mechanisms of a Reaper; although I did add in a few new terms here, as this one is a tad more "Reaper"ey than the one from TBR. But how many similarities or differences between the two will there be? That remains to be seen…
Something I noticed while reading up on the Flood from Fandom: the ancient humans of Halo were downright terrifying. Not only were they fighting a two-front war against both the Forerunners – who were capable of making entire planets, artificial stars, and galaxy-ending superweapons like it was nothing – and against the Flood – who don't need an explanation as to what they can do – in the case of the latter, they effectively won! Now granted, the piece from Fandom I read sorta contradicted itself on that point a few paragraphs down, but if it was accurate in what it said, ancient humanity found a way to turn the Flood on itself. After years of experiments, they created a modified strain of the Flood that saw the baseline Flood as edible biomass, and infected a third of their own surviving population to let the opposing strands of the infection literally eat each other to death; the modified strain managing to force the baseline to retreat from the galaxy after it started consuming entire Graveminds. Thanks to the two Flood strains weakening each other, the ancient humans swept up the remainder without any further breakouts, thus conventionally winning a war against the Flood! Of course, because of said war, they were too weakened to win against the Forerunners; and when they in turn won, said egotistical morons erased every technological breakthrough and scientific discovery made by the ancient humans (*cough* including research on a certain cannibalistic Flood strain *cough cough*) and devolved them, but the point stands. Ancient humanity did something even the Forerunners failed to do: they beat the Flood without resorting to galaxy-wide WMD's. It's stuff like this that reminds me that, while it may be fiction, humanity in general can do things that make fictional nightmares look tame in comparison. In gamer terms: humanity OP, pls nerf.
Alright, that last paragraph was for the most part an unimportant chunk of the author's notes that I just felt like sharing my thoughts on. So, to avoid the AN being even longer, I'll end it here. As always: I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!
Editors Note: Pilot here, glad Edge reached out to me to help with his editing and the like. Happy to help a friend in need. I just want to add to what he said about ancient humanity and the Forerunners. Sci-Fi writers have no sense of scale, and the Halo expanded universe is proof of that; the Forerunners and ancient humanity's power is wack.
Just one example, a dyson sphere is essentially the be all-end all mark of a space faring civilization; it's the embodiment of "If you are prosperous enough, and have the resources to build one; then you don't need one." Something along those lines. And the Forerunners built a lot of them, Onyx being a good example.
Just my little PSA on Sci-Fi writers total inability to understand scale and the like. Have a good day ladies and gents.