What was that... some kind of isolation field capable of blocking communications, deceiving sight, and masking illusions...?
Staring at the violet-black curtain of light, the San'Shyuum Prophet instantly came to a conclusion. Judging by the rank of the ceremonial crown on his head, he belonged to the middle tier of the Covenant High Council.
As a San'Shyuum, even if his individual combat power was far inferior to the Jiralhanae, his knowledge was not something those muscle-brained ape-like brutes could compare to. He had a premonition that this strange field was what had sealed off the area.
"The Sangheili are trash! The Jiralhanae are trash too! Trash, all of them!"
He screamed furiously in his heart, pushing all responsibility onto the two races tasked with defending the holy city.
He never considered that if not for the scheming selfishness of the San'Shyuum themselves, their suspicion and suppression of the Sangheili, and their desire to elevate the Jiralhanae to replace them, would the uppermost defenses of High Charity have become this flawed?
Not long ago, Prophet of Regret, having reached some sort of agreement with Prophet of Truth, departed first. Besides his own Sangheili fleet, he also took many Jiralhanae legions that belonged to Truth.
Afterward, Prophet of Truth, who was in charge of the Reach campaign, also gathered his fleets and prepared to leave. But before departing, he naturally stirred up trouble once again.
At present, Regret's power had already surpassed Truth's, making him the strongest of the three High Prophets. As the habitual fence-sitter, Prophet of Mercy followed his old principle of siding with whoever was stronger, and accepted Truth's proposal to weaken Regret.
Look, wasn't Regret currently highly dependent on the Sangheili?
As it happened, the relatively independent Sangheili, whose self-awareness had grown too strong, seemed to have discovered something during the war against humanity and had become estranged from the San'Shyuum.
The High Prophets feared the Sangheili might uncover the lies they had fabricated. Rather than passively waiting for the truth to emerge, it was better to strike first.
Not only could they make one final use of the Sangheili by having them seize the coordinates of the Path to Ascension (Earth), they could also weaken their political rival Regret's faction, while preserving the San'Shyuum's unique supreme status within the Covenant.
Killing three birds with one stone.
With that plan in mind, after Truth departed, Mercy, who remained behind, officially moved against the Sangheili.
Using the excuse that the Sangheili had failed to properly fulfill their military leadership role in the war against humanity, and adding the genuine losses caused by repeated elite human raids across Covenant territory guarded by Supreme Fleet Commander Xytan 'Jar Wattinree, Mercy launched his attack.
Although the Sangheili councilors fiercely argued back and requested contact with Xytan 'Jar Wattinree so the fleet commander could explain matters personally... well...
At that time, Xytan 'Jar Wattinree had already sworn loyalty to Selene. Explain matters? Explain my ass.
Instead, through holographic projection, Xytan 'Jar Wattinree harshly rebuked the San'Shyuum Prophets in council as "amateurs," "ignorant of military affairs," and "backseat meddlers who only ruin operations."
Thus, in the Covenant High Council, the enraged Mercy forcibly announced that the Jiralhanae would henceforth share equal authority with the Sangheili as protectors and military leaders.
This greatly enraged the Sangheili councilors, who threatened to withdraw from the High Council.
Amid such chaos and fierce confrontation, the Sangheili Honor Guard assigned to protect the Prophets, under the lead of the Sangheili councilors, collectively resigned.
You want the Jiralhanae to serve as Honor Guard? Fine. We quit.
Perhaps not literally, but that was the meaning. Though the Prophets had intended a gradual transition and had not yet dismissed the Sangheili Honor Guard, the proud Sangheili made their stance clear through action. To serve on equal footing with those lowly, honorless barbarians—they would rather die.
The newly appointed Jiralhanae Honor Guard was still unfamiliar with the upper sanctum's environment and failed to promptly fill the vacuum left by the Sangheili's mass resignation.
Furthermore, High Charity's defenses were at their weakest point in centuries. Two of the three High Prophets had already departed with their massive combined fleets.
And this was exactly what the Empire had hoped for. With defenses full of holes, many methods became possible.
Cough... cough...
As long as he got outside, he could summon reinforcements and have these vile heretics killed!
The explosive potential brought by the will to survive was considerable. A San'Shyuum Prophet, famous for physical weakness, actually dragged himself forward across the floor, leaving a glaring crimson trail of blood as he crawled desperately toward the exit.
Unfortunately—
Clang!
Splurt!
A pillar of blood erupted. The raised hand dropped limply beside the headless corpse, twitching from time to time until it moved no more.
From the shadows stepped the executioner, a woman clad in a black skintight orichalcum composite nano-battlesuit.
Her figure... well.
In contrast to her sexy and graceful silhouette, not an inch of skin was exposed. The faintly glowing gauss disassembler pistol strapped to her thigh, together with the power wrist blade extending from her arm and radiating a corrosive disintegration field, both marked her as a servant of the Holy Selene Empire.
Rarely for an official Imperial department, she wore almost no decorative insignia of rank. Only the skull mark centered on her forehead, and the I-shaped scales-and-skull emblem at the center of her chest.
Its meaning was known to all who had dealings with the Empire.
The Imperial Inquisition—Assassination Unit!
The Assassination Unit was a vast department. According to differing specialties, it was divided into many branches. Rumor among Imperial high society claimed there were divisions such as...
"Stealth," specializing in infiltration and backstabs.
"Punishment," specializing in long-range sniping.
"Destruction," specializing in exterminating entire bloodlines.
"Poison," specializing in exquisite internal ruin.
"Blank," specializing in human-flesh inspections...
As for whether any of it was true, Imperial bureaucrats would only say they did not know, and did not dare ask.
Because those who got too close either died violently or vanished from the world.
Drip...
Carrying the still-bleeding head in one hand, the woman swayed away with rhythmic steps and vanished into darkness once more. Perhaps she had left. Perhaps she was still here, quietly waiting for the next destined victim.
At this moment, at the peak of High Charity's "mushroom cap," deeper within the sanctum, inside one of the three giant palaces nearest the Keyship—the residence of Prophet of Mercy.
The palace had once been dominated by metal walls glowing with purple, pink, and blue luminescence, adorned with numerous entomological structures... but that was in the past. Now, here, there was only darkness. All light had been devoured.
Thick blackness crept forward with their footsteps, swallowing every corner of the palace. Countless sinister, chilling silhouettes stood half-hidden within it, radiating an aura of utter despair.
Perhaps they were despair itself. In some sense, more terrifying than any pile of horror-laden words could ever describe.
Silence, eeriness, blood, and cold cruelty perfectly defined the slaughter being carried out by the Empire's assassins.
No explosions sounded. Soundless green beams like flashes of lightning disintegrated those they struck, unraveling atomic bonds and tearing targets apart at the microscopic level.
"Roar! Ah... roar..." There were only screams of agony as flesh was eroded and bones turned brittle.
One newly appointed Jiralhanae Honor Guard elite after another failed even to glimpse their attackers before being decapitated, dismembered, disintegrated, slaughtered.
The energy shields they wore were less useful than paper before the silent gauss disassembly beams and the specialized power wrist blades.
Once-lofty gravity thrones lay overturned on the ground. Ornate and heavy ceremonial headdresses were casually crushed underfoot. Prophet of Mercy collapsed, coughing blood.
"Pfft—! Go call more guards! Damn it! Of all times..."
At this moment, there was no trace of a High Prophet's dignity about him. His robes hung like filthy rags, not a single patch intact. Cloth and flesh had fused together under intense heat, revealing horrifying, bone-eaten sores beneath.
One of Mercy's legs had been reduced to bare white bone by disintegration. He could only desperately drag the mutilated limb behind him.
Watching his escorts diminish at a visible rate, Mercy knew that escaping alive from this situation was likely nothing more than wishful thinking.
Hiss—Bang!
A wrist blade was yanked free from the wall and hurled out along with a Jiralhanae Honor Guard. The blade, bursting with a corrosive disintegration field, pierced straight through the grotesque head of the last remaining "Brute" in the chamber with unstoppable force.
At that instant, within the room, aside from Mercy's ragged breathing, only the sizzle of draining blood and the tzzzt of flesh being corroded remained, making the silence all the more horrifying.
"Cough... cough... y-you... who are you?"
Weak and trembling, Mercy stared warily at the encroaching shadows. On the back of the leader's hand, a gem emitting violet-black radiance seemed embedded, echoing the spreading darkness around them.
"You won't escape. Kill me, and you—"
The Assassination Unit ignored him completely.
"Confirming target..."
The next second, Mercy was seized by the throat and lifted into the air.
"Khh—!"
Locked in place and forced to meet the crimson electronic eyes beneath the visor, Mercy felt the hand gripping his neck tighten. Suffocation spread through his body. He flailed wildly, terror filling his eyes.
"Confirmed. Prophet of Mercy."
The humans' voices were low and frigid, like a wind from an arctic hell whispering behind the ears.
"Mission complete. Do not let him die. Orders from above—he is to be kept alive for other purposes."
In the next moment, Mercy felt a sharp pain at his neck. A cool liquid was injected into his body. Darkness overtook him instantly.
"Contact command. Decapitation operation complete. Cargo intact. All preparations in place."
At that very moment—
Bzzzz—!
When the veil of reality was torn open, Selene stepped through, leading Halsey and the UNSC personnel, along with the Sangheili elites headed by Xytan 'Jar Wattinree.
What met their eyes was a prophet sanctum strewn with corpses.
"This... is the Sanctum?" Xytan 'Jar Wattinree's eyes widened. His four mandibles parted involuntarily as he scanned the surroundings.
As Supreme Fleet Commander—second only to the Prophets, with the authority to become a councilor at any time—he had often visited their residence to report matters. But the scene before him left him shaken.
Because he was not under Selene's identification protection, his vision could see beyond the special light curtain covering half of the sanctum.
Inside—corpses everywhere.
Outside—everything as usual.
Even though tensions between the Jiralhanae and the Sangheili had created defensive gaps around the Sanctum, to conduct a massacre of this scale without causing any reaction beyond the light curtain meant it had been completed in an extremely short time.
Even if the Jiralhanae were incompetent, shifts were still rotated.
"Your Majesty!" ×N
Shadows writhed.
Before Halsey and the others' complicated gazes—whoosh! whoosh! whoosh!—one assassin after another, radiating a terrifying aura of slaughter and bloodshed, appeared beside Selene and knelt on one knee.
"Mm." Selene inclined her head slightly and gestured for them to rise. "Bring Prophet of Mercy here."
"Yes!"
After issuing the order, Selene turned her head, noticing Xytan 'Jar Wattinree's dazed expression. Narrowing her eyes, she said, "Wattinree. Sentiment can wait. For now, focus. Such a perfect opportunity does not come often."
"No... Our Goddess."
Xytan 'Jar Wattinree shook his head and knelt on one knee.
"It is not sentiment."
"I merely sigh at this place. It was built by the Sangheili at the founding of the Covenant for our faith. Yet the San'Shyuum not only deceived us—they now intend to purge us."
As he spoke, he glanced at the corpses of San'Shyuum Prophets and Jiralhanae guards littering the ground and let out a cold snort.
"Had it been any later—had Your Majesty not intervened—it might have been Sangheili lying here instead."
Within the Empire, through soul-searching, the secret dealings between the Prophets and the Jiralhanae were naturally recorded. Thus Xytan 'Jar Wattinree was fully aware of the conspiracy against the Sangheili.
"Is that so..." Selene tilted her head and gave him a teasing wink. "Are you confident?"
"When the Sangheili learn the truth, as you said, Wattinree, they will correct the chaos."
After a pause, Selene continued, "Remember. Soon, the main Budo legion will land upon High Charity. I have already had the Assassination Unit assist you in securing all the Prophets. Any who resist stubbornly—the consequences..."
"I will personally sever their heads," Xytan 'Jar Wattinree declared firmly.
"Very good." Selene waved her hand. "Take him with you. I imagine he will be of use."
The assassin holding Prophet of Mercy appeared instantly.
"Do not disappoint me, Wattinree... my subject." She emphasized the final word heavily.
"By your command!"
While making his vow to Selene, Xytan 'Jar Wattinree turned and led his Sangheili elites toward the light curtain.
Watching the Sangheili figures vanish beyond it, Halsey rose from beside a San'Shyuum corpse.
"Your Majesty, what are we to do now...?"
"Forerunners. The Keyship."