A/N: Wow sorry for the long wait. School has been very busy with exams coming up, and my teachers seem to be cramming as much as they can before exams. As well as school, the Halo 3 Beta came out last week, and I have had a hard time tearing myself away from that. Without further ado, here is chapter two!
Chapter Two
The Past meets the Future.
0315 Hours, October 28, 2552(Military Calendar)/
REVISED DATE Location Unknown
James stepped off of the grav lift and onto the cold sterile tile floor. The forerunner A.I. floated ahead and led James to the medical wing. He looked around at the walls and besides the occasional blood smear they were all painted in the same pale white color. The Spartan wondered how many warriors, covenant and human alike, had gone through these halls.
He noticed that he was falling behind the forerunner and quietly picked up his pace. The once forerunner warrior took a sharp left turn and stopped abruptly at a door, which looked more like thick slab of stone. The A.I. 'pressed' a series of buttons and placed his hand on the panel; no doubt checking his DNA.
Was that possible for an A.I.? Did the ones the forerunners create still keep not only their memories and personal traits, but there bodily functions and DNA? The Spartan was once again in awe.
The doors opened and they entered a dark room. The forerunner hit a switch, or touched another holo panel, and the lights blared on; James' eyes didn't have trouble adjusting. The room was circular and held many medical items, none of which were placed in orderly fashions. Used syringes were lying on the floor, a long with bags of used IV and other medical fluids. Was the Forerunner seriously going to augment him more in this environment?
"Take of your armor." He demanded
That answered his question and James did so; he placed his helmet on a table next to him, and started unlocking the shoulder plates and gauntlets. Compared to his old MJOLNIR armor, it was easy to take off. He unlocked the last shin guard and unzipped the body suit.
The forerunner motioned him to lie on a vertical table. The metal table hung from the center of the room and was five meters long. Chrosenthis pressed another button and the table moved and lay horizontally. He lay on the table, and cold unforgiving wrist locks clamped and held him in place. More on his legs locked him in place. James' pale body seemed to camouflage itself amongst his surroundings.
Chrosenthis inserted a series of needles into his arms, legs and torso. More unfamiliar cords were inserted into his body, and heart monitors and screens winked on. A cold sweat trickled down James' forehead, he was scared. Memories of the previous augmentation flashed through his mind: the burning sensation along his nerves, feeling as if glass had been shattered in his bone marrow, the fever, and so many more haunting memories.
"I'm sorry, but this will be painful." Chrosenthis whispered.
Chrosenthis placed a breathing mask over his mouth, and James fell asleep.
James woke up in a dark room; silk red robes flowed on his body. The room was dark and hollow. There was a light in the center of the room, and James instinctively walked toward it. He moved his right leg, but pain shot up and he fell on one knee. This had to be some bad dream.
He moved his left arm to balance his weight, but the bone snapped in half, and the arm fell limp. He yelled in agony as it reconstructed itself. The light came closer to him. He reached for it with his right arm, but it too snapped.
The pain was unbelievable. He was going to die, he was certain of it. After fighting for so long, being in so many situations were death brushed his nose and past him, he was going to die here.
The light was a meter in front of him now. A large man sat on a crate, head in one of his hands. Shattered glass and small power boxes littered the floor around him. The man looked familiar to James, but he didn't know him. He tried to reach out with his arm, but it was stiff with a burning pain. James, a Spartan, sat on two knees, helpless, and in pain.
The man took his head out of his hands, and James got his first glimpse at his tear stained eyes. It instantly made James want to cry. He didn't know this man, so how was he affecting him this much?
"Who are you?" James asked as best he could.
The man stood up, he was over three meters tall and at least a half a meter wide. He wore only the bottom half of Reclaimer armor and his upper body was absolutely ripped; muscles covered his body. But on those muscles were scars, long, harsh, unforgiving scars. Along his face one scar ran from the left side of his forehead to the bottom of his chin.
The man looked so familiar. James picked up a shard of glass, and looked into it. His eyes were brimming with tears. He threw the shard away and looked up at the man, and realized who it was.
It was him; a reflection, a copy. He was staring into a mirror and it was staring back at him.
"I am Jacobus; and you are my direct descendant." James recognized the voice; it was the same voice that had spoken to him during training; his voice.
"I have watched you train, grow, learn. Nothing, nothing will be able to teach you the horrors of the flood. And what they really do. Nothing can teach you unless you have experienced it. I agreed to have Chrosenthis strip me of my burden and pass it on to you; my memories." He paused
"These memories will be integrated into your soul; your second nature will be your armor. You'll know everything, but with a price. Someā¦things will trigger a memory, and this memory will put you into a blind rage. This rage is what killed my fellow brothers and sisters, as well as me. You must learn to control your rage! You must not follow our path; you are the last hope for your kind."
His ancestor grew paler, more ghost like. He was being stripped of all his life, he was finally going to his peace. A black mist blew towards James, and it traveled through his nostrils and mouth. Every muscle, every cell in his body, every tendon grew. Pain lashed out at his body, his nerves burned, his bones ached and his muscles tore. His mind blurred with visions of battlefields, death, and the flood. Brother and sister reclaimers died before his eyes.
He couldn't take it, he wanted to cry. A slight pressure was applied on his shoulder and he looked up. The last true Reclaimer stood above him and entered his soul. More pain was twisted into his body. He yelled, and his voice was distorted. Something else sounded through his voice.
Images burned into his retinas. His mind had been branded by pain. James' eyes widened, he grinned, and yelled again. This time, it was the cry of the reclaimers.
He was born.
Chrosenthis stood and watched James convulse. Blood spewed from his mouth and he coughed. His bones visibly moved inside his skin and yet a smile formed on his face. He yelled and Chrosnethis moved back, physically shocked at what James had become.
His legs stretched and his body length grew to ten feet. His stomach muscles tensed and hardened. His whole body changed.
Chrosenthis was worried at what James might become, what he might do. Implementing the memories did speed up his training, but at a high cost. The induced memories were like inserting him with a syringe filled with pure rage. If anything ever made those memories surface, James would have a very hard time controlling it.
The forerunner warrior remembered what happened to the first reclaimers after the drug was implemented into them to make the animal part of brain become always accessible. The drug wiped out twenty-five percent of the Reclaimers, because they had gotten themselves killed using the animal brain in a killing frenzy.
Maybe he would let James train and rehabilitate longer than normal. The beings in the Sahrak wouldn't be able to leave unless they possessed forerunner technology. Though it was the ark he was worried about.
Have no fear. He quietly whispered into James' ear. He took a chip out, inserted some of James' blood into it and walked away.
He left the med room and entered a different room across the hall. Full Reclaimer battle suits stood in cases to protect them from dust and harmful particles. Jalens stood in even rows and Reclaimer heavy sniper rifles stood next to them. Every surviving weapon was in here. Enough power cells for the heavy sniper rifles to last a very long battle against the flood.
He took the sample of James' blood and inserted the chip into a suit of armor. The armor winked to life and power flowed from it. Good, it was a match.
Each suit was made specifically for a certain reclaimer's blood line, and only activated when that certain blood line was the user of the suit. This was the same armor Jacobus had used and in turn, James will use.
Everything was ready and Chrosenthis turned the suit off. He walked out the door and back into the medical room. James had stopped convulsing and laid there breathing heavily. Good, the augmentations had finished.
It would be several hours before James would wake up. The Spartan's mind would need time to recover its motor skills with a changed body; he was extremely bulky but in time he will be fast and agile.
James' eyes fluttered and Chrosenthis was stunned. No, this shouldn't be happening. His eyes fluttered again and his mouth moved to speak. Soft words were heard from his mouth:
"erhan eram conbev ex meus ancestorioss sepulchrum. Suus phasmatis repleo meus inritus. Ay reclaiemus erhan aves fio. Reclaiemus erhan mos intereo."
Chrosenthis froze. The last two lines were from the Reclaimer writ of teachings. Those who graduate as reclaimers would speak the lines in their pledge. How could he be accessing those memories so soon?
James stopped moving all together. His breathing slowed and the blood that came from his mouth started to dry. Blisters and scabs covered his ripped body. His heart rate slowed and he finally slipped into a coma.
The forerunner wondered if he had made the right choice.
A/N: Shorter Chapter, but for the better. I wanted to end this now so the next chapter I could get back into some action. And the chapter after that is when it really starts to heat up. As always, Read and Review.
