"Only those with ancient human genes are acknowledged as authorized contacts?"
It was obvious that this hollow triangular crystal—an artifact left behind by Forerunner technology—did not recognize Selene's right of inheritance.
Then again, although Selene still looked human on the outside, whether she was truly still human on the inside was a question that warranted a very large question mark.
Of course, Selene's foundation was humanity. She had never denied her human identity, and no one with a death wish would dare propose stripping her of her 'human status.'
Moreover, the humans born on Erde-Tyrene—Earth—in Halo were extraordinarily special. Within their genetic fragments remained something absent from the humans of other universes and worlds under the Empire's rule.
"Wiped out the ancient humans, yet preserved their descendants. And after your own extinction, you designate the ancient humans' offspring—the new humans—as your heirs... I truly don't understand you Forerunners."
As Selene gently traced the patterns along the hollow triangular crystal in her hand, she murmured to herself.
The Covenant was a religious interstellar empire formed by multiple species gathered across the cosmos.
And since it was a religion, it naturally required a god.
This god was not some vague abstraction or fabricated idol, but a civilization that had truly existed in the Milky Way—an interstellar hegemon that ruled the galaxy around 100,000 BCE: the Forerunners.
Originating from the Orion Arm of the galaxy, the Forerunners were a highly advanced intelligent species whose civilization rose to galactic dominance around 150,000 BCE.
They commanded a complete and extraordinarily sophisticated technological system.
Their most representative creation was the Halo—also known as the Halo Array. The Covenant called them Sacred Rings, while the Forerunners and their artificial intelligence constructs referred to them as Installations. They were colossal ring-shaped superweapons.
They were biological pulse weapons of unimaginable destructive power. A single Halo had a maximum effective kill radius of twenty-five thousand light-years. By emitting devastating cross-phase neutrino waves, the Halo Array possessed the terrifying capability to extinguish all life in the entire galaxy.
And this triangular crystal was one of the keys used to activate the Halo.
It could be said that whoever truly mastered it would seize victory in a universal war and become the ruler of the galaxy.
Thanks for the generous gift package you left behind, dear Forerunners. I shall graciously accept it.
"What kind of Honkai Eruption, Honkai Beasts, and Herrschers would be born from an interstellar civilization on the scale of a galactic hegemon?"
Her crimson eyes fixed intently on the hollow triangular crystal in her hand. Sensing its rejection of her, Selene bared her teeth in a smile. The next moment, her fingers tightened.
Crack!
A grating sound rang out. The crystal—capable of withstanding the explosive force of millions of tons of TNT without a scratch—instantly emitted strained creaks under unbearable pressure.
You cannot refuse.
Crack... crack... crack...
Grinding it apart bit by bit, feeling the writhing regeneration beneath her fingertips, the smile on Selene's lips only deepened.
"Slowly..."
Bzzzz—!
High-density violet-red Honkai energy particles ignited between her fingers. In an instant, within the triangular hollow at the center of the crystal, countless deep-blue geometric shapes of varying sizes appeared.
They were covered in Forerunner sigil-runes. As Selene's erosive Honkai energy poured in, an indescribable wave spread through the room via those sigils.
Bathed in the light curtain emitted by the Forerunner runes, the guards stationed outside the palace immediately felt an inexplicable sense of comfort. Long-forgotten childhood memories surfaced briefly in their minds—only to vanish again as though they had never existed.
"Countermeasure... or trial?"
Selene paid it no mind. Golden markings of Finality flickered in the depths of her eyes as her fingers pierced deep into the crystal's structural framework. A stream of azure data symbolizing the authority of the Herrscher of Reason continuously washed over the triangular crystal's foundational architecture.
"Whether it is your Forerunner technological legacy, or the legacy of your creators—the Precursors—whom you betrayed and annihilated... it is all mine. A splendid tonic to strengthen myself."
Crack—bzzzz!
As Selene's erosion intensified, the hollow triangular crystal's resistance grew increasingly violent, trembling fiercely.
Unfortunately, it no longer had a master.
The Forerunner civilization had perished over a hundred thousand years ago. A rigid program might suffice to set a threshold for the re-emergent San'Shyuum and the new humans—but against an extraordinary lifeform like Selene, whose power was wholly integrated into herself and surpassed celestial bodies, it was utterly powerless.
The Herrscher of Corrosion combined with the Herrscher of Reason—together, their authorities were the natural bane of all technological creations.
Examining its internal condition carefully, Selene glimpsed a segment of 'programming' embedded deep within the crystal's foundational structure.
Time and again, the triangular crystal attempted to activate that segment. Selene merely thought, The more urgent you are, the less I will allow it.
As the erosion deepened, she gradually deciphered the meaning of the Forerunner runes.
A self-destruct protocol.
All the more reason not to let you succeed.
"Erode... synchronize... imprint."
Including the Forerunner sigil-runes engraved upon it, the deep-blue geometric patterns radiating outward from the triangular crystal in Selene's hand were increasingly consumed by violet-red corrosion. The erosion spread faster and faster.
Hum...
With the final segment of Forerunner control programming extinguished, some time later, Selene felt the triangular crystal in her hand begin to convey a sense of closeness toward her.
She could not help but laugh.
"I have no interest in inheriting your so-called 'mantle.' But Flood—rest peacefully in your graves. As payment for acquiring your legacy, I will deal with them thoroughly."
Through the information left within the triangular crystal, Selene gained a clearer understanding of this universe's developmental lineage.
"Precursors, Forerunners, ancient humans, new humans, the Covenant... What a tangled 'family drama' of paternal kindness and filial piety, of brotherly affection and respect."
Ancient humans, Forerunners, the ancient Prophets—the ancestors of the San'Shyuum—and many other intelligent species of the galaxy shared a common creator: the Precursors.
The Precursors, a peculiar lifeform species originating from the Large Magellanic Cloud, once walked the world in many forms—flesh and blood, or beings of pure spirit. Primitive or advanced. Soaring through space or tilling fields with stone tools. Evolution cycled endlessly—death, rebirth, exploration—scattering the seeds of life among the stars.
Among the creations of the Precursors, both the Forerunners and the ancient humans were considered masterpieces.
Their relationship was akin to the 'eldest son' and 'second son' within an emperor's household.
And precisely because of that, the kind of blood-soaked intrigue so common in imperial histories—between 'father,' 'eldest,' and 'second'—erupted.
Although the Precursors had chosen the Forerunners as candidates to inherit their 'mantle,' and though the Forerunners' performance had increasingly satisfied them, in the end the Precursors judged that the Forerunners were unfit to fully inherit it. Instead, they designated the ancient humans—whose strength and level of development at the time lagged far behind the Forerunners—as the true successors.
This was akin to an old emperor deposing the crown prince on the eve of his ascension. And the reason was so absurd: I unilaterally judge that you, the 'eldest,' lack sufficient ability. Do not be fooled by how incompetent the 'second' appears now—his potential surpasses yours.
After serving as crown prince for sixty long years, how could the Forerunners possibly endure that?
Resentment surged from the heart. Malice rose from the gut. Why?
Why should the 'second,' inferior in every way to me, earn your favor? What about me? In what way am I inferior? Were all my years of merit and toil meaningless?!!
Dissatisfied with the Precursors' intention to cultivate the ancient humans as heirs, the enraged Forerunners chose to strike first. Thus unfolded a twisted tale of 'filial devotion'—patricide for the sake of ascension. They launched a sudden assault upon the Precursors and exterminated their creators to the last.
That was precisely what Selene could not comprehend. Compared to the Precursors, the Forerunner civilization had still been immature. By what power had they successfully ambushed and annihilated their creators? It made no sense.
Unless the Precursors had grown weary of living.
Unless they had never intended to resist.
Unless it had been deliberate.
Otherwise, there was no explanation for how the Forerunners managed to slay their own makers—the Precursors.
Thereafter, having succeeded in patricide and risen as the new galactic hegemons, the Forerunners underwent a period of self-development and gradually chose to forget that unpleasant chapter of history.
They even forged a 'divine decree,' proclaiming themselves the chosen inheritors of the creators' mantle.
They wished to prove to their blind 'father-emperor' that they were the most suitable heirs—capable of protecting and advancing the flourishing of galactic civilization.
The so-called 'mantle' spoken of by the Precursors—the responsibility and conviction to safeguard all life—was regarded by the Forerunners as the foundational faith of their state.
The newly risen generations of Forerunners knew nothing of their ancestors' ignoble past. Under the erosion of time, a lie repeated ten thousand times became truth.
From top to bottom, Forerunner civilization believed—and swore—that they would inherit the mantle left behind by the Precursors and not betray the expectations of their creators.
Thus the Forerunners advanced steadily, building upon the legacy left by the Precursors.
What they did not realize was that they had destroyed only the physical bodies of their creators.
The creators' vengeance arrived.
The Flood—born from the ruined remnants of the Precursors—emerged as a horrific species whose initial form was that of a lethal parasitic organism. By instinct, it infected and assimilated all sentient life into itself.
If even a single infectious spore appeared on a planet and was not promptly discovered and eradicated, that world could essentially be declared subject to Exterminatus.
From the moment the first Flood specimen was discovered, the Forerunners sensed the profound malice these creatures bore toward them. Soon, war erupted.
The war lasted tens of thousands of years. During that time, the Flood briefly withdrew from the galaxy. The Forerunners concluded that humanity was responsible.
Already resentful toward the 'second son,' they seized this as a pretext and launched war upon the ancient humans as well.
In the end, the Forerunners were victorious. The defeated ancient humans were confined to their homeworld, Erde-Tyrene—Earth—and their technological level was forcibly regressed to the Stone Age.
And then...
The Flood returned.
The final outcome proved that the Precursors had not been mistaken.
For the Forerunners were indeed 'unworthy' of inheriting the mantle.
In the end, the Forerunners fulfilled expectations in the cruelest possible way—they personally slaughtered all life in the galaxy.
Even if it had been done out of desperation, even if it had been to eradicate the Flood—the common enemy of life—they had done it. That fact could not be altered.
After fighting desperately to obtain the mantle of safeguarding galactic life—and enshrining it as the core will of their race—their ultimate actions were so ironic and agonizing.
Perhaps that was the greatest punishment the Precursors had bestowed upon the Forerunners.
"Though if everything is dead, all the better. It is all mine now. Precursor ruins, Forerunner technology, Covenant alien constructs... mine. All mine."
Turning the triangular crystal traced with violet-red luminescent lines in her hand, Selene muttered with the bearing of a tyrant.
Suddenly, the communication device in the study rang.
Beep, beep, beep—
A towering armored figure materialized as a projection within the high-level strategic chamber.
The familiar face—and the resplendent armor forged from the collective mastery of artisans—belonged to none other than the Lord Commander of the Second Legion Retributors, Great General Budo.
"The reconnaissance forces have made contact with the human civilization of Universe No. 117. My Empress, armies stand ready." Budo struck his right fist to his chest in a respectful salute, his voice steady and resonant.
Hearing his words, Selene paused briefly. Then, as though echoing from afar, thunderous cries of acclamation surged into her ears. A faint curve formed upon her lips.
She tossed the triangular crystal lightly in her palm and strode toward the balcony.
In the distant void, streams of light flowed endlessly. Countless colossal steel behemoths coiled through space without boundary. On the palace's landing decks below, dense ranks of Imperial Army soldiers stood assembled.
"Then let it begin."
Resting her hands upon the balcony railing, bathed in glory beneath the gazes of innumerable Imperial warriors, Selene extended her palm.
"Go. Seize for me the glory of victory."
"Loss is permitted! Defeat is unforgivable! Only death awaits failure!"
"We obey the will! For Selene—!"
"Our glory is loyalty—!!"
"Victory everlasting—!!"
...
Astartes Second Legion Retributors.
Serial designation: Conquered World—Universe No. 117.
Epsilon Eridani II.
Reach.
Here stood towering skyscrapers piercing the clouds, solemn and sacred colossal statues, mighty war fortresses, and vast docking fields densely packed with countless warships and spacecraft.
This was the headquarters of the United Nations Space Command—the capital of Reach: Manassas.
Within the grand circular command tower, past layer upon layer of security forces, lay the Spartan Operations Division.
Inside the high-level strategic laboratory, the wide display screen glowed with blue light, red warning indicators flashing continuously.
"Dr. Halsey, I believe the Master Chief and Silver Team have encountered trouble."