"Does it only acknowledge those with ancient human DNA?"
Clearly, this hollow triangular crystalline relic, a remnant of Forerunner technology, did not recognize Selene as its rightful inheritor.
But then again, it made sense.
Although Selene still looked human, what lay beneath was a far more complicated question—one that warranted serious doubt.
Of course, her foundation was human, and she had never denied her human identity. More importantly, no one dared to challenge her human status, let alone attempt to expel her from humanity itself—such a suicidal notion was unthinkable.
Besides, in the world of Halo, humans originating from Erde-Tyrene (Earth) were uniquely special. Their genetic sequences carried traces of something absent from other human populations across different universes and realities.
"They wiped out ancient human civilization, yet spared its offspring... only to designate those very descendants as their chosen inheritors after their own downfall?
"I will never understand the Forerunners' logic."
Selene muttered to herself as she gently traced the intricate patterns on the hollow triangular crystal with her fingers.
The Covenant was a religious interstellar empire, forged from the unification of various alien species across the galaxy.
And since it was a theocracy, it naturally needed a deity to worship.
Their "god" was not some abstract concept or fabricated myth—it was a real entity, one that had once ruled the galaxy nearly 100,000 years ago:
The Forerunners.
The Forerunners were an advanced, highly intelligent species that originated in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. By approximately 150,000 BCE, they had risen to become the undisputed rulers of the galaxy, possessing an immensely sophisticated and complete technological system.
Their most iconic creation was the Halo Array—a series of colossal ringworld superweapons.
The Covenant called them "Sacred Rings."
The Forerunners and their Monitors (advanced AIs they had created as caretakers) referred to them as "The Array."
These were not merely artificial worlds, but planet-sized bio-pulse weapons with unimaginable destructive power.
The largest Halo installations had a maximum lethal range of 25,000 light-years, releasing an omnidirectional cross-phased neutrino pulse that could eradicate all life in the affected region.
And the hollow triangular crystal in Selene's hands?
It was a key—one that activated the Halo Array.
In other words, whoever wielded it held the power to determine the fate of the entire galaxy.
Whoever controlled it would win the war.
Whoever possessed it would become the undisputed master of the Milky Way.
"Thank you, dear Forerunners, for leaving behind such a generous gift."
"I'll be sure to accept it without hesitation."
A flicker of crimson light flashed in Selene's scarlet eyes as she locked her gaze on the hollow triangular crystal in her hand.
"A civilization of galactic rulers…"
"What kind of cataclysmic force must have given rise to their ultimate downfall?
"What horrors did their collapse bring into existence? Honkai Eruption? Honkai Beasts? Herrschers?"
Her lips curled into a dangerous smile.
Sensing the crystal's resistance, Selene tightened her grip.
Then—
Crack.
A sharp, nerve-grating noise echoed through the air.
A relic capable of withstanding explosions exceeding tens of millions of tons of TNT—a structure once deemed indestructible—began to emit a series of fragile, splintering sounds.
"You cannot refuse me."
Crack… crack… crack—
Bit by bit, Selene crushed the crystalline relic, dismantling its once-immaculate structure with calculated precision.
As the artifact struggled to regenerate, its shattered edges writhing in an attempt to heal, Selene's smirk deepened.
"Take your time…"
Buzz—!
Violet-crimson high-density Honkai energy particles flared between Selene's fingertips. In an instant, within the hollow center of the triangular crystalline relic, dark blue geometric shapes of various sizes surfaced.
These shapes were inscribed with Forerunner divine glyphs, and as Selene's invasive Honkai energy poured in, an unseen ripple spread through the glyphs, subtly altering the atmosphere of the room.
Bathed in the glow of the Forerunner glyphs, the guards stationed outside the palace instantly felt an inexplicable wave of comfort. For a fleeting moment, long-forgotten childhood memories surfaced—only to vanish again just as swiftly, as if they had never existed at all.
"A countermeasure? Or a test..."
Selene remained utterly indifferent. The golden sigil of Finality flickered in the depths of her eyes as her fingers plunged deeper into the crystalline relic's core, and torrents of sky-blue data streams, embodying the Herrscher of Reason's authority, relentlessly eroded its very foundation.
"Whether it is the Forerunners' technological inheritance or the legacy of the Precursors—the very creators you turned against and slew—it all belongs to me. This is nothing less than a feast to fuel my ascension."
Crack— Buzz—!
As Selene's corruption surged, the hollow triangular relic's resistance intensified, trembling violently in defiance.
But alas, it no longer had a master.
The Forerunners had been gone for over 100,000 years. This was nothing more than an obsolete security protocol, designed to test and restrict the San'Shyuum and humanity as they slowly stumbled toward rediscovery.
Against Selene, an entity beyond the celestial scale, such defenses were laughably inadequate.
The Herrscher of Corruption and the Herrscher of Reason—a fusion of two supreme dominions—rendered all technology powerless before her will.
Peering deeper into the relic's inner structure, Selene discerned a hidden program embedded within its lowest layer.
The triangular relic attempted to activate it repeatedly, yet Selene merely smirked.
"The more you panic, the longer I'll make you wait."
As her corruption deepened, Selene gradually deciphered the meaning of the Forerunner glyphs.
A self-destruction protocol.
All the more reason not to let it succeed.
"Corruption… Synchronization… Inscription."
The Forerunner glyphs that had originally been etched into the geometric patterns began to darken, as violet-crimson corruption spread outward from the relic at an accelerating rate.
Buzz...
With the last remnants of the Forerunner control program wiped away, Selene felt the triangular relic finally submitting, its presence shifting as it actively reached out to her in recognition.
Selene couldn't help but laugh.
"I have no interest in inheriting your so-called 'mantle,' Forerunners."
"But as for the Flood—rest easy in your graves."
"As payment for your gift, I'll ensure their eradication."
Through the Forerunner data stored within the triangular relic, Selene gained a clearer understanding of the true trajectory of this universe's history.
"The Precursors, the Forerunners, the Ancient Humans, the Neo-Humans, the Covenant... What a tangled web of so-called 'filial piety' and 'brotherly affection'—a galactic family drama of power and betrayal."
The Ancient Humans, the Forerunners, and the Ancestors of the San'Shyuum (the original Prophets)—along with many other intelligent species of the Milky Way—all shared a common creator: the Precursors.
The Precursors, a unique race of lifeforms from the Large Magellanic Cloud, once walked the universe in countless different forms—as beings of flesh and blood, as immortal spirits, as primitives, or as highly advanced entities.
Some soared through the cosmos, while others toiled in fire and soil. Their evolution was cyclical—they lived, died, were reborn, and continued to explore, seeding life across the galaxies.
Among all their creations, the Forerunners and the Ancient Humans were their proudest achievements.
If one were to compare their relationship to a royal family, then the Forerunners were the firstborn heir, while the Ancient Humans were the younger sibling.
And, just as in human history, palace intrigue and bloodshed inevitably erupted between father and sons, between elder and younger brothers.
The Forerunners had been chosen by the Precursors as candidates to inherit their legacy, and for a time, their performance impressed their creators.
However, in the end, the Precursors determined that the Forerunners were unfit to fully inherit their mantle. Instead, they designated the Ancient Humans—who, at that time, were far weaker and less developed than the Forerunners—as their rightful successors.
This was...
A coup on the eve of coronation.
The old emperor deposed the crown prince at the last moment.
And the reason?
"I have decided you are unworthy."
"Your younger brother—though weak now—has far greater potential than you."
How could the Forerunners endure such humiliation?
They erupted with fury.
Why?
Why did the 'lesser' sibling gain the favor of our creators?
What did the Ancient Humans possess that we did not?
Was all our effort, all our achievements, for nothing?!
Consumed by jealousy and rage, the Forerunners struck first—launching a preemptive coup against their creators.
Thus, in a brutal act of divine patricide, the Forerunners waged war against the Precursors—and exterminated their own creators.
Selene couldn't understand it.
Compared to the Precursors, the Forerunners were practically infants.
How had they managed to overthrow their own gods?
It didn't make sense.
Had the Precursors simply grown tired of existence?
Unless they had never intended to resist at all—or worse, had allowed their own destruction to unfold deliberately—there was no logical explanation for how the Forerunners succeeded in annihilating their creators.
And then—
After killing their "father" and claiming the throne, the Forerunners entered a new era of self-rule.
Over time, they chose to erase their sins from history.
They even went as far as to forge "divine decrees," proclaiming themselves the true, rightful inheritors of the Precursors' will.
A desperate attempt to prove to their fallen creators that they were the worthy successors, that they alone could protect and uplift galactic civilization.
The "mantle of responsibility" spoken of by the Precursors—the sacred duty to safeguard all life—became the Forerunners' core doctrine, the foundation of their empire.
The new generation of Forerunners knew nothing of their ancestors' disgraceful past. With the passage of time, a lie told ten thousand times becomes truth.
The Forerunner civilization, from top to bottom, believed with absolute conviction that they were the rightful inheritors of the Precursors' Mantle and swore to fulfill their creators' will.
And so, the Forerunners flourished, advancing steadily through the technological legacy left behind by the Precursors.
But what the Forerunners did not know was that they had only destroyed the Precursors' physical forms.
The vengeance of the gods had begun!
The Flood, a terrifying species born from the shattered remnants of the Precursors, initially existed as a lethal parasitic organism that instinctively sought to infect, mutate, and assimilate all sentient life into its own.
The moment a single Flood infection spore landed on a planet, if it was not eradicated immediately, that planet was as good as lost.
From the first recorded Flood outbreak, the Forerunners sensed the immense hostility emanating from these creatures. Soon, war erupted.
This war lasted tens of thousands of years. At one point, the Flood seemingly retreated from the Milky Way, and the Forerunners became convinced that this was the work of Ancient Humanity. Already harboring resentment toward their "lesser" younger siblings, they seized this as an excuse to launch a full-scale war against Ancient Humanity.
Ultimately, the Forerunners emerged victorious, confining the defeated Ancient Humans to their homeworld, Erde-Tyrene (Earth), and forcibly regressing their technological advancements back to the Stone Age.
But later, the Flood returned.
And in the end, it proved the Precursors had been right all along.
The Forerunners were, indeed, unworthy of inheriting the Mantle.
In the end, the Forerunners, the self-proclaimed protectors of all life, personally enacted the genocide of the entire Milky Way. Even if it was an act of desperation, even if it was to eliminate the Flood—the common enemy of all life—it was still a fact that could not be rewritten.
They had spent their entire existence struggling to obtain the Precursors' sacred Mantle, making it the core belief of their civilization, only for their final act to be a contradiction so cruelly ironic that perhaps this was the Precursors' greatest punishment.
"But now that they're all dead, none of that matters anymore. Everything belongs to me—whether it be Precursor relics, Forerunner technology, or the alien constructs of the Covenant. Mine. All mine."
Casually playing with the triangular crystal, its violet-glowing lines flickering faintly, Selene muttered to herself with the air of a tyrant. Suddenly, the communications line in the study room rang.
Beep. Beep. Beep—
A towering, armored figure materialized in the high-level strategic chamber. That familiar face, along with the masterfully crafted warplate—a masterpiece forged by the greatest artisans—belonged to none other than the Supreme Commander of the Second Legion, Grand General Budo of the Punishers.
"The reconnaissance units have made contact with Humanity of Universe #177. Your Majesty, your armies stand ready." Budo struck his right fist to his chest in salute, his voice firm and resonant.
For a brief moment, Selene froze. Then, from the distance, a thunderous roar erupted like a tidal wave, voices calling out in unison. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she tossed the triangular relic into the air, then strode toward the balcony.
Gazing out into the void, streams of light filled the endless darkness, where colossal steel warships coiled like ancient behemoths, stretching infinitely beyond sight. On the palace's hangar decks below, imperial soldiers stood in formation—an uncountable mass, awaiting only a single command.
"Then let it begin."
Gripping the balcony railing, bathed in glory under the gaze of countless Imperial soldiers, Selene extended her palm forward.
"Go forth. Claim victory in my name."
"Loss can be endured! Failure cannot! Only death atonement!"
"We obey your will! For Selene—!"
"My honor is my loyalty—!!"
"For the Empress—!!"
…
Astartes Second Legion Punishers, Serial Number Conquered World—Universe 117.
Epsilon Eridani System
Reach
Towering skyscrapers loomed across the skyline.
Colossal statues of solemn majesty, enormous war fortresses, and vast hangars filled with countless battleships and dropships stretched across the landscape.
This was the seat of the United Nations Space Command (UNSC).
The capital of Reach—Manassas.
Inside the circular Grand Command Tower, past layers of armed security, lay the Spartan Operations Division.
Within its high-level strategic laboratory, the massive display screens pulsed with a blue glow, flashing red emergency signals at rhythmic intervals.
"Dr. Halsey, I believe the Master Chief and Silver Team are in trouble."
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