Chapter 40: Silentium
June 12, 3239, 0830 hours
UEG Government Building
Manhattan Island, Earth

"Now I want to be perfectly honest with you, Captain: I have your comfort at heart."

Reihner was already dressed in a sterile scrub suit – two pieces of thick fabric colored like the sea. On the front was an apron that was stained red with the blood of the men who had died before Chris. Completely limp, he could barely even turn his eyes to follow the man's progress around the room. Straps were on the table and bound his limbs to the cold surface, but they were loose. Reihner probably assumed that Chris would be far too weak to even twitch a finger. He was correct. He felt like a dreamer woken up too early; his body was still out of his control. But this was a nightmare.

"You'd like to know how I got here. I mean, the last time you saw me, I was on my way to the firing squad. Openly attacking you and Princess Sally Acorn. Mmm, not smart of me considering the circumstances, but hey – I had to give it a try, especially after TB-44110b. Ah, but you probably don't remember that. Your brain is mush. It must look like a rainbow in there. Let me try something you may remember. You remember that day you turned me in? That day back outside of Tigrin? Ah, you do! I can see it in your eyes! Remember when I could have saved those men? Remember when it was in my power to get all seven hundred Marines out of that city before it was vaporized by that nuke? Remember when you put a gun to my head and told me to stop?" He was clutching a scalpel in his hand.

The scalpel nut – a staple of horror films since time immemorial. Chris knew this trope well but now he was living it – strapped down and ready to be experimented on. But it was more to hurt him then to figure out the inner workings. The way that Reihner clutched that blade – it was to do anything but 'no harm'. Flesh was to be cut this day, and fate had demanded that it be that of the Captain.

Fate. Chris would have spat the word if he possessed the motor skills. Fate was a term he had grown to hate over the past five years. Predeterminism was a concept that meant little to him before the day they had crossed universes to Mobius. Eternal choice, but yet every possibility was accounted for. Like it or not, he was guided my an invisible hand: probability.

"You see, on Talahan, there were no rules. You like to think there were, but in war, there are no rules – only the perception of rules. Let me explain." He flipped the scalpel in his hand in a double circle before catching it easily. "Rules of engagement. You're a soldier; I was a soldier. Once upon a time. I trust you still remember the definition: the means through which one party engages an enemy in combat. Firing if fired upon. This takes restraint. Allowing your enemy to make the first move. What makes you think that your enemy will offer you the same courtesy? What makes you think that they will wait until you throw the first punch?"

Naturally, Chris couldn't say anything. The signals that was meant for his mouth never got there. Reihner was correct though. There was no guarantee that the enemy would respect the rules of engagement, especially one known to be guerilla fighters. It was the professional ethics though that mattered.

"Or shooting medics? Undeniably a crime to us. They give life; they do not take it. I watched doctors lined up and shot on that miserable fucking world. I saw them die goddamnit! I had a chance to stop them! I could have changed the course of the war all by myself!"

Chris had the strength to roll his eyes.

Reihner's lip disappeared under his mustache. He took the scalpel and ran it across Chris' lower arm. Gently.

The feeling was a paper cut. Extended and without mercy. Despite his body's inactivity, he still felt the pain. Something. Something allowed the pain to travel up his spine. His eyes twitched in their sockets. Reihner pulled the scalpel across the arm and then relinquished.

"Even drugged you're a smartass. That wasn't wise." He pointed the instrument to the man's nose. It was stained slightly with blood. "Now, I don't know if you noticed, but I put on my special eyes today." He pointed to them. Chris realized they were ice blue. They certainly didn't look like that when they first met all those years ago. "Modification of genetic markers in the brain. A simple little thing. Gives me a buzz to look in a mirror. I actually did it just after I drugged you. Child's play I know, but I was working on something big when you turned me in. Weaponization of something that I will demonstrate to you. Maybe."

He flipped open Chris' file, recalling engagements and battles. "You've been busy since I've been in prison. Says you've been on quite a trip in the past couple of years. EUS-39 they call it. Laser swords, lightning powers, telekinesis, and something called the Blood Emerald. It… says here you died. Twice. Based on your own reports. Wait, you seriously wrote that? "While it was impossible to determine the length of consciousness that was lost after being struck by the energy discharge launched by Lord Malak… it was within my reason to determine that my life functions were terminated by the event, after which indeterminable time period I was resuscitated by the initiator"." Reihner shook his head. "I want to meet this Malak guy. He sounds like he know how to run a torture session. Your subsequent two year journey must have really weakened you mentally. See I think this was where your degeneration began. Either way, it helps me get into that little insane mind of yours."

Reihner pulled out a syringe and plunged it into the crook of Chris' arm. Blood was sucked into the phial in a wine-colored whirl. Satisfied, he detached the container and placed it in a secure case laid on the side table. He then took a retinal scanner and laid it over Chris' left eye. The device was really meant to be used when a patient was unconscious, so the feeling of small grips keeping his eyes stable was to say the least uncomfortable. The flashes of light that entered his retina were slightly more bothering. They probed the iris' topography and the retina behind it. Finally, the device was retracted, and then Reihner took out something even more wicked looking. A device on a stick that looked like it was meant to grab a head. The device on front which looked like a drill was what made Chris drool in absolute fear.

What came next was something that was beyond simple words. Clipped to the back of his head, the device retrieved a microscopic sample of brain tissue. A specific selection that only Reihner was aware of. As the device worked and as the screams died before they left Chris' lips, he smiled. He smiled at the pure uninhibited pain that the young man felt. Though the brain itself had no nerves, the process was slow and definitely felt. It was too much for him. He slowly faded into unconsciousness from the absolute agony of what was being inflicted upon him.

Reihner was not a kindly physician though. At once, he grabbed an adrenaline shot from a cabinet, tapped a priming lever, and jabbed it without hesitation into the young man's heart. The burst of energy was immediate, and on the brink of blacking out, he was stimulated by a concentrated burst of epinephrine. He had felt this feeling before. Several times in fact on Talahan, and a couple of times afterwards. His back arched, momentarily overcoming the paralysis set on him, which was more than enough to make Reihner frown. His fingers curled reflexively, but then went limp once more. Chris' eyes rolled back into his head as he was strapped to this horrible machine. Then the excruciating part was over and now he felt only a constant droning pain. His vision was blurry and his mouth was dry, as if he were cast out into space again. His mouth tasted of copper. He had bitten hard into his tongue by accident.

Reihner was satisfied. He marched over and yanked the drill out. Chris' response was loud at first but then faded quickly. He didn't pass out again. A heart monitor showed that his heart was beating rapidly at over 200 beats per minute.

Reihner placed the dril's extractor into a fluid-filled cup. "You never know when this will come in handy." He placed the sample in a cabinet, locked it, and then keyed in a code he couldn't see. "You see, genetics is my forte. You saw that back on Talahan. You may notice my name is German in origin. Yes, yes, I know what that implies. I wouldn't be surprised to think that maybe… just maybe, one of my ancestors may have served under Dr. Joseph Mengele. Do you know who he is? Well, even if you don't, you know about the necessary work that he did. I'm no Nazi though, mind you. I share the need to learn. To just learn, and I want to learn about the information in that head. The information that Marshall brought me here to find. So, I am about to do you the greatest favor you'll hear. I am going to take that information out. Yes I will."

He then picked up a scalpel and then stabbed with it. The instrument went into Chris' forearm through the gap in his bones. Chris showed no signs of agony though. It had slipped Reihner's mind that the adrenaline rush briefly blocked the feeling of pain. He pulled out the scalpel and slashed at the man's face. The blade went across his left cheekbone, across the bridge of the nose and just missed his eye. Again, no pain, but Chris' mind was racing, and the heartbeat went higher. The Captain was well aware that this would become very, very painful not too long from now.

"Oh, I forgot!" Reihner said suddenly starting to laugh. He put a hand to his face as, embarrassed. "God I'm such a dunce. You're on adrenaline! You can't feel much of anything right now can you?"

Without warning he wound up and punched Chris with a right hook. To the man strapped to the table, this was registered as a dull thump, but not much more. Reihner punched again, and again.

"This is for your bitch girlfriend!" Ambrose hit Chris square in the face, causing his nose to bleed. The blood mixed with what was already there. "Oh, I'm sorry!" He pointed to his left hand. "The bitch bride to be…!"

Chris could only form one coherent thought. Don't you dare touch that. Don't touch that you bloodthirsty bastard! Slit my throat if you want it, but don't you touch that ring goddamn you!

"I'm tempted to take that ring, but that's not why I'm here. I'm here to bring your mind into balance. All of this? Ah, that was nothing." Reihner waved it away like a modest compliment. He pointed to a device that looked like a quantum computer. "This is our wetware to hardware drive. This is the engine of your salvation, Captain. This will take your memory and wipe whatever was there before. A perfect fix. This is what we use for AI construction post-mortem. We've programmed it to do something similar. Thought to image translation. You? Well you'll be a vegetable most likely, but you will be alive. For the time being." He grabbed a similar looking device to the drill. "I hope you retain some aspect of your personality and memory after this. I don't want to take out seven years of revenge fantasy out on a drooling comatose soldier."

This couldn't happen. Chris now realized now. If they took this information from him, not only would Marshall succeed in what he had set out to do, but there would likely be nothing left of him. At last he saw the woman. That beautiful face, and the beautiful blue eyes that shone like patches of sky after a rainstorm. Her name. Amidst the threat around him, he tried with all his might to remember her name. Tears flowed from his face freely. Behind the paralysis, he wept like a child. He could not remember her name.

Then the dark beings from the ether, the specters of guilt and death surrounded him. With a blink of his eyes, they lined the table, standing in layers above the other. Black clouds without faces except for white pinpoint yes all staring at him. An operating theater of the damned. They watched him, without motion or noise. Reihner kept on working despite their presence. He didn't even care if they were there! Surely he would react in the slightest! Why could nobody else see the damned things?

Then more appeared. The room got darker, and now there was a droning noise from a distance. The eyes stared, unblinking. Reihner's eyes briefly flew to the EKG. Chris' pulse was now over 200 beats per minute. Even Reihner began to look concerned.

Libraian! Chris cried in his mind. He heard his own voice though his lips failed to move. My lady! I need your help!

Nothing. The droning grew louder and now the room started to go black. A new set of eyes appeared. Neon blue. They started in the dark and then they came closer. They belonged to the woman. The beautiful woman. She stood bare, and was as beautiful as could be thought, but the wound in her chest marred her otherwise immaculate image. It was coagulated. She was angry, like an enraged goddess. She climbed up to him; above him on her hands and knees. Her face was level with his own.

"What is my name?!" She screamed at him.

"I don't know!" he screamed back.

She slashed at him. He felt claws dig at his face. He gasped in sudden pain and tried to feel the wound. His hands were still bound.

Lifeshaper! I beg of you!

Nothing. Nobody came to his aid.

"There is no Lifeshaper. The Lady cannot save you! All the time that we spent together! All of the love we shared, and in the fact that I am carrying your child and legacy, you choose to forget who I am?! What is my name?!"

She screamed this in his face. Her voice was like shrill static. Electricity poured from her eyes. He stammered in new pain that now found its way to him. The adrenaline was wearing off. That or Reihner was beginning his process.

"I… I… don't know!"

She plunged her claws into his chest, letting them sit in his ruined flesh. The man whimpered. He couldn't please the demon. He couldn't. His memory had quickly faded. Why could he remember Ryan, Johnson, and Marshall, but not this one woman? She only needed a name! Only a name!

"You remember the name of that long-dead crone! That manipulative gene-witch, but you care nothing for me?! I wanted to help you! I wanted to be the light in your life!" Her own tears now started to form. "I wanted to make a difference to you! You mean nothing to me if I mean nothing to you! I never should have chosen you! You were my ultimate error! You are not worthy me! Your child is not worthy of me! You are nothing but a mistake and a fluke! You should have died on that world!" She roared. A cry that rumbled the very fabric of existence. Even the specters were afraid.

"What is my name?!" she demanded. "If you love me you will remember!"

"Please goddamnit! Please!" Chris sobbed. "I just can't! Please don't torture me anymore! I can't remember anything! I'm not worthy of you and never was! Just please stop the pain!

The eyes dulled. They were sky blue again. She kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, my love."

Before he could question, She wrapped her hands around his neck and squeezed.

The man was powerless. Unable to move he choked. Her face was sweet though. She calmed him, cooing to him and telling to him not to struggle.

He called to the Librarian once more. She did not respond. This woman was right. The Lady could not save him. But there was perhaps someone who could.

With his last ounce of strength, he shouted, "Didact!"

The woman relented out of shock. "You're not calling… her?"

"No creature. He calls for someone who does not shy away from a fight."

The Didact stood at full regal height. His face was set in rage and in determination. Though he kept his poise and his eyes even, the general's nostrils were flared and his jaw was clenched. He stepped towards them with cape fluttering and with pieces of his armor bobbing in the air. The specters stared at him as he approached.

"Begone." He commanded. They vanished at once, leaving darkness, the restrained man, and the demon woman who was above him. She did not vanish. "He does not remember me!" She shouted to him.

"Had you spoken such to me, I wouldn't either."

She slid off the hurt man and stood at her full height with nothing to bare against the massive Forerunner Warrior-Servant. "What gives you the right to intervene like this?!"

"He calls for me. Not you." the Didact smirked. "I suppose that means he cares for me more."

The woman growled. "How dare you."

"I do not dare yet, creature. If you push me, then I shall dare. I shall dare to put you down and all who seek to harm this Human. This is the warning of the Didact."

The woman stood defiant. There was a staring contest, but then she folded her ears. She backed off. "I will claim him." She said.

"I shall see to it that you will not. Now begone!" He roared.

The woman vanished. Now it was only the Promethean and the Captain.

"I see that my wife has abandoned you to your fate. That or her role has concluded." he knelt. "You call for me not out of petty desire. You require help."

"Please." Was all he gasped. "I am about to die."

"I believe you." the memory of the Didact stated. "My wife's plan must come to pass. You have done great feats gaining everything thus far. You have succeeded in your mission to carry this data. You were a vessel. A sacrificial carrier."

Chris made eye contact. "I was never meant to live in the end?"

"Not as you are. Your devolved mind is weak. Something I curse myself for. I realize now that it was wrong to do what we did to your kind, for it is instrumental for what is to come. I doubt my true self realizes this."

"I can't let them find out about Parl. They can't learn about what I saw. They'll take it and leave me a hollow man! It's worse than death."

"I know of such things. I understand your plight and I am willing to help. It means unlocking strength within you that you will not be able to control. It means that your body will be fighting against itself. Your death will be excruciating, but you will die on your feet."

Chris convulsed. "I'd rather die than be this man's lobotomized plaything! I'd rather die on my feet than die strapped to a fucking table!"

"Then you accept my help." The Didact said. "Knowing your limitations?"

"I can't stay like this!"

The Didact rose to his feet. "I give you one more gift. One that will be the next step to defeating the Prisoner. It is a world that you will need to see to gain the knowledge you need. Seek out Requiem."

"Requiem." Chris said. "I promise."

"For if you fail, this galaxy fails. Only I can help you."

"I?"

"Now the Didact bestows this gift! Feel the strength of a Promethean! Feel the strength of your forefathers eons in slumber! Rise and complete the task that has been given. Know the pain you will feel and know your journey comes to a close. Aya!"

---

Reihner simply sat and watched as the man before him twitched. While he was fully aware that he could at any time plunge the scalpel into the Captain's neck and end it early, he was far too fascinated with the brain scans. The Prefrontal cortex and the Occipital Lobe lit up like an aurora. Reihner's eyes traveled quickly to the neural imager. The nodes snapped to the area behind the man's head would read these signals and would try to make visual translations. Dream imaging was possible, but still imperfect. The image that appeared on Reihner's computer was fuzzy. This was noise thrown around by the brain itself trying to process the image its subconscious was generating. The computer also tried to make heads or tails of it.

Reihner could see darkness, but also something standing in the dark. Humanoid and tall. No features were visible. It was only the barest indication of a creature sprung from thought. A quick tingle formed at the base of his spine. The involuntary creepiness response that came from the faceless and featureless humanoid. But then, eyes appeared – then fine details. By the time the computer, and by extent Reihner, had identified the creature as a Forerunner, the Captain lurched at once.

Reihner barely made a motion. "What have we here?" He began to motion towards the menu to begin pulling the memories into storage. Reconstructing the consciousness of the man would be damaging, but it was now within his reach to do so.

But then the man lurched again, this time breaking the bonds.

"Uh oh." Reihner realized springing to his feet.

Chris' eyes were wide and nearly all iris. Tiny holes to let in the barest of light. The boots sprang next, tearing at their own restraints. With a speed that seemed inhuman, the wounded Marine was on his feet. A combination of military training and the emergency action of the geas fueled his actions. All Humans possessed hysterical strength, accessible in times of crisis, but what the Didact had given Chris was beyond his means of control. When he lashed at Reihner with nothing but his bare hands, it was quicker than his muscles could handle. They strained at the bones as the fist collided with Reihner's upper chest.

Ambrose fell backwards off his chair, bloody scalpel now in hand. "I drugged you with high grade paralytic! Your ass should be laid out!"

The Captain said nothing, but advanced. A line of something escaped his lips. It had no meaning. Chris pulled another blade from a nearby plate. The two men now had weapons and paced around one another.

"Captain? Are you in there?"

No response. Not even an acknowledgment. Reihner believed that it was because the paralytics were still somewhat active. Something was circumventing it.

"What did that Forerunner tell you?" Reihner asked. "Does it know about the Prisoner?"

Chris slashed. The scalpel made the air hiss. It made contact with Reihner's arm and red erupted. Reihner roared and before he could adjust his stance, Chris kicked the man in the gut, doubling him over before delivering an uppercut to the jaw.

Reihner snapped back, knocking over medical supplies and electronic equipment. The geneticist grappled for his instrument and scrambled back to his feet.

"Are you even in there?"

"I'm here." Chris finally spoke. "I've just got nothing to say to you, you psycho son of a bitch."

Reihner then grabbed something from his pocket and injected it into his arm. "Oh you're going to enjoy this." Chris stopped in confusion. His right arm throbbed visibly. His fingernails grew at an alarming rate, armored and razor sharp. and skin cells multiplied rapidly to form a natural barrier. Reihner had just spawned his own spiked glove out of his own skin.

"I know this." Chris whispered.

"I know you do." Reihner ran forward and stabbed. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Reihner was fast. He parried a blow that the Captain gave and thrust the weapon into the man's side.

Chris gasped in pain. The claw had pierced his left side. He could feel them poke through on the other end. In response, he jammed his scalpel into the cracks of skin on Reihner's mutated arm. With his strength from the Didact, he damaged his target, though the blade cracked.

Reihner drew back. "It'll be fun picking apart your brain and wondering what that Forerunner did to you! I just skewered your kidney! If Marshall didn't need you alive..." With his normal hand, he drew a handgun and fired it. The bullet struck Chris in the stomach. He didn't even slow but showed obvious signs of agony. "I'd spend the next… aw…!" the second shot fired blew the scalpel apart, which was not the intended target. The distance was closed far too quickly to fire another.

Chris slammed his fist onto Reihner's skull. A crunching noise made him smile. The grin was cut short by the clawed hand going through his left wrist. Two of them went through. He snapped the others with the right hand before Reihner took his left. A quick punch to Reihner's own wrist broke the bone. His adversary recoiled in pain. The gun skittered across the tiled floor.

"After I kill you, I'm killing your whore fiancee and your kid too!" A second injection. The muscles on the right arm enhanced sickeningly. Reihner was a grotesque nightmare of genetic engineering gone wrong. No wonder Marshall wanted him to design the Hunter Killer teams. He found Chris' neck, grasped it, and thew him into the bodies on the table across from him. They all skittered to the floor. Chris was in shock and horror to find he was cradled by the bodies of dead Marines.

"If you ever lay a hand on her! A hand!"

"Which one?" He gestured. "A slow death of suffocation?" He flexed his right arm. "Or a quick disemboweling?" He flourished with the right.

The threat awoke more anger within him. However, blood was leaking freely. Before he could pick up speed, he bowled over. His body was crying in pain. Muscles tore, and wounds flared. He still moved thought out of sheer will. His falling caused Reihner to fall for an unintentional feint. The action caught him off guard and he took his chance. Despite an impaled left wrist he delivered punch after punch with his right hand, taking advantage of the man's staggered posture, driving him towards the table where he had been strapped in.

"I wonder what the inside of your twisted head looks like!" he flipped the scalpel around in his hand and was amazed to feel a burning sensation in his arm. He could feel muscles roiling under his skin. Every heartbeat was the banging of a large drum in his head. The chemicals alone gave him a natural high, but all the Captain could focus on was hurting Reihner. The other man was right. Chris didn't remember Tigrin or their encounter. That was lost in the slush of what was once his memory. All he knew was that he had seen this man before and that both wanted each other dead by the end of their meeting. He didn't even stop to consider their last meeting before he found the gun and picked it up, flicking off the safety. It had to have activated when it hit the ground. The weapon was slender and light in his hands. After a quick brass check that seemed an instant, he aimed.

Reihner didn't realize it, but Chris' entire fight had been in Conditioned Awareness. The advanced tachypsychia that he had been trained to utilize had kicked into overdrive at last. The world slowed to a crawl. With a wave of his hand, he could see the subtle motion of the slide and the wobble of the trigger resting on its spring. He had Reihner at his mercy. His own voice seemed slow in his head, and his motions seemed exaggerated. His eyes shifted in micro-movements. His brain couldn't process the heightened depth perception fast enough.

"I might not remember you, or what you did in that town, but it sure as hell didn't work. You wouldn't be working for Marshall if you were honorable."

"Took you long enough." Reihner said. He staggered to his feet. He then lunged forward off the operating table. He picked up the body of a dead Marine with his muscled arm and threw it at the Captain, who dodged it with his heightened senses. The way that Reihner regained his balance said what he should have noticed earlier. He had been trained with the same techniques. That explained why the two men seemed evenly matched. They appeared to both be moving slowly. The corpse hit the wall with a dull thud and landed on the table with the papers. Hospital gurneys were shoved aside as Chris tried to get a shot and Reihner used the area to his advantage.

Chris fired two rounds. The handgun kicked twice like an angered dog. It wasn't strong. The cartridge that ejected was small and thin. A .22 casing. Chris groaned. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be threatened or annoyed.

Then Reihner picked up Chris' rifle.

"Oh fuck me!"

Reihner shouldered the gun.

"Wow this is tacky." he commented before pulling the trigger.

In the small room, the gun's thumps were loud and thunderous. Chris' ears began screaming in protest. He was lucky though. Reihner could only fire the gun one handed due to his enhanced arm. The ONI scientist had to fight recoil as the large slugs whizzed past his target where the smashed tile, punched holes in cabinets, and obliterated necrotic flesh. The room soon smelled of gunpowder and the dead mixed together. Enough to Chris to begin gagging on the sickeningly sweet and powdery waft.

Pain. One round grazed his shoulder, but it was enough to dig a small trough that bled immediately. They were both making errors. Chris was moving far too quickly to judge his actions appropriately, and Reihner couldn't keep the gun level. Soon the bolt locked back and Ambrose found the best use for it to be a club. Chris however was still armed. He threw whatever he could at Reihner – beakers, scalpels, and even an industrial strength bone saw – most of which were easily dodged, with the exception of the bone saw which made contact with Reihner's body. It only made a small scrape, but it was more than enough for Chris to raise the gun and fire a 22 round straight into Reihner's solar plexus. The diminutive bullet hit its mark and at once Reihner arrested his motion, staggering at once.

"Don't waste ammo next time." Chris said running forward and delivering a punch that floored the man. Reihner was still. Chris thought he killed the man, but then he heard a groan. Reihner was hurt, but still alive very much. He received a boot to the skull which kept him down. He wouldn't kill the man, though he seriously considered it. "No." he said more to himself. "I'm sick of this."

Instead, Chris looked around. He found handcuffs in the drawers of the table where the dead Marine was thrown. Chris almost squeamishly pushed past him to look within the drawer. He searched around, and just as his noxious guess had predicted, several pairs of handcuffs were within. He was half tempted to beat Reihner who was on the verge of unconsciousness, but instead took the cuffs and strapped him to the operating table by all his limbs.

"Just in case you get any bright ideas..." he looked around again and felt twisted glee when he got his hands on the gigantic needle. "I've got a little something for you." Chris plunged the needle into the man's heart. Reihner screamed in pain, but soon went limp. The only indication of life were his eyes which made contact with the Captain's.

"After I get your boss, I'm coming back for you."

Chris took three steps away from the paralyzed Reihner, then doubled over. Hundreds of white hot needles plunged into his skin and he suppressed a groan. His muscles had torn in several places from the fighting. An otherwise unaltered Human wasn't meant for that. He could still move and searched for what he knew would help – drugs.

They weren't hard to find. Anesthetics and stimulants were sprinkled all over the floor and tables. The Captain searched until he gathered enough to keep himself moving. The subtle pokes of the needles were nothing compared to his fight. He was soon bolstered by more than enough syringes. His own trembling hand made it difficult to find a vein. He took cloth from a table and formed a tourniquet on his arm to cause the vein to swell.

The result was a trade-off. Absolute pain was replaced by a dizzyness that made it difficult to make out where anything was. He was now aware that he was bleeding quite seriously from the chest. However, upon discovering the wound and his stained red hand, Chris only laughed.

He didn't have much time left. If the Didact was correct, then his body was ripping itself apart with the strength of a Promethean warrior.

If I die, he thought to himself, I may as well be doped up while I do it.

He performed two final acts before leaving the room. Reihner even watched this. Chris took the same syringe he had been attacked with, and carved strange symbols into the top side of his arm. There was no feeling from this, but he watched squeamishly as the blood formed on the glyphs. They appeared in his consciousness upon thinking about it. This was the Forerunner word for the Didact's home. Requiem. Whatever that was.

The red slashes were now wine-red with blood. Chris then took a canister of biofoam and sprayed over it. The cuts immediately formed scar tissue. They were easier ways to pass along a message, but the processes in Chris' mind were not normal. He had passed beyond the realm of what was accepted as sanity.

He clicked the safety on the gun and stuck it in his waistband. Chris stumbled up the passage whistling a song with no tune. His eyes were bright and wide as he smiled widely. What he saw defied explanation and was not meant his lowly eyes. However, he was graced by its beauty and truth. He would never recall fully his vision for the rest of his life, but would want to see it just one more time.

At the first gate blocking his path down the hallway, he crouched, grabbed the security barrier and lifted. The Didact's gift allowed him to pass this, but at the cost of a vertebrae. Without Reihner to control the gates, he still went through. Driven by purpose, anger, and the closest he ever felt to divine providence, he continued while the hurt was only a small whisper in his ear. He stepped defiantly down the hallway. Nobody walked out to face him. No guns, no soldiers, and no tricks.

Chris briefly wondered where the ambush was waiting. He only thought this for a minute before his mind wandered, just as his body did. However neither were in harmony with each other. He was on a beach. He was not sure if this beach even existed, but he was in suspect of even his own existence at this point. A planet hung in the horizon, dominating the sky. The bright blue sun was setting, turning the air around it bright purple. The woman lay next to him. They were both dressed for the ocean. He in simple trunks, but she in an extravagant bathing suit. She was awake, but was slowly dozing off. He did what came natural. He kissed her on the head.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"Did I need to have a reason?"

"No, I suppose you don't. She leaned up and kissed his neck. Her hair was covered by a straw hat that fluttered in the wind. "It's beautiful isn't it?"

"It would be even better if I knew who I was sitting here with."

She looked at him. "Can you really not remember?"

"I want to. You have no idea how much I want to remember."

"I can." She said. "I do. I am you." She sat up and rested her head on his shoulder. Her arms were around his waist, but she looked straight ahead. "Do you know where we are?"

"No." Chris said.

"Neither do I." she admitted. "Maybe it's the place we always wanted to be. Maybe it's where we're meant to be."

Silence. Waves hit the beach in soft roars. Gulls called out over the water. Wind rustled tall grass on a hill behind them. Somewhere out on the beaches, a family laughed and played. As the sun dipped below the horizon, a boat out beyond sight blew its horn. "You love the sea?" she asked.

"It has appeal."

"Then I love the sea." she cooed.

"Why? Why aren't you trying to kill me?"

"In the end, what's the point of hostility? We're kids in a playground. Your love for me is stronger than your fear of the dead. That's why it's just us here. It's peace."

"So I'm going to die."

She looked at him and started to blink quickly. "I can't make that choice for you. In the end, you need to decide. Please look at me." the last part of her speech becoming broken as she started to lose composure. "No matter what happens, I will be here for you. I will stay with you until the end. I am always proud of you." She lifted her left hand. "I found the ring." It glinted. "Will we still have the wedding?" She sniffled.

"Even if my last thought was kissing you one last time."

She hugged him. "It's what we needed to do in the end, right? Balance? Do what you think you need to. Just don't be late for the vows!" She half laughed and half cried.

"I will give you a name. I promise."

"I know you will!"

In the last light of the sun, a bright flash came from over the water, and when Chris' consciousness found his body again, he was solemnly walking down a sterile white corridor covered in his own blood, clothing in ruins, and vision still fuzzy. Ahead was an elevator shaft. Chris couldn't be certain how far he had walked, but his body was numb. The shaft was closed solid, but he pried open the doors. His joints protested, but soon the doors parted. The shaft beyond was as wide as a football field. Despite being over a kilometer above the ground, he felt very little vertigo. The shaft beneath him was sprinkled with lights indicating floors, and red lights after a certain interval. In the middle was a massive support beam – likely one of many that were scattered throughout the building. He couldn't see the bottom. The lights were far too concentrated by that point, but if he fell from here it was likely to take him ten to twenty seconds to hit the ground.

"Nice." he responded to his own thought. "Guess I have to go up..."

A wind was coming from the shaft. Several cars were still speeding up and down all around the interior. Confident that none were coming around to hit him, he poked his head inside the shaft. For a brief instant, a sane thought came into his head where he was afraid Reihner would come by and push him down the shaft from behind, but that was banished by the sudden realization that the cool air was doing wonders for his skin.

There was in fact a small maintenance catwalk just inside the shaft. A recessed ladder to the side would allow him to access it. Trying not to look into the abyss, he climbed down onto the catwalk and steadied himself. He was looking for an access ladder that would allow him to reach the very top. It wasn't long before he found it. As he grabbed onto the rungs, he glanced up into the sky and found that he couldn't see the top of the shaft very well either.

"Just a small climb." he told himself before beginning his long ascent. The thought never occurred to him that just one slip would result in certain death.

It was a long and arduous thing, climbing in the dark. With the exception of a quick rush of wind from a passing car, he couldn't hear anything else. The doors wouldn't open. Someone, possibly security, had locked them. Even though the cars stopped at floors, there was no way to get in and out.

He couldn't tell how long he had climbed for. He didn't dare look at his watch. In the dark though, he could tell they were watching him – waiting for him to make a mistake. Dark figures stood all around the shaft. Humanoid, but seemingly made of empty space glared at him with red eyes. Neither male nor female, they didn't extend a hand nor utter a word. They just watched silently.

More time passed. He continued to climb until his arms were begging for release. He wanted to let go but couldn't. Even with his pain dulling enhancement, he was doing far more work than his muscles could handle, and with each pull as he went higher and higher, the ligaments and tendons in his arms became far more worn.

"Just keep climbing." the woman's voice said. "The Didact's gift will protect you until the end."

Chris wondered why the Didact would push him for as long as he had. What did he and the Librarian have in store for him? He paused to consider it and was brought to the sad conclusion that he was only a vessel – a point of transience. His purpose was to pass on information. Maybe if circumstances were different, he could have the information pulled from his brain, but his encounter with Reihner told him that there was no real way to save him. Memories were being overwritten with more information than his brain could hold.

Gunfire came from up above. That made his ears perk. Gunfire meant that there was a clash of some sort. ONI versus UNSC perhaps? It sounded like there was too much to be a small team. It was only a few floors higher. His left arm slipped and he let it fall. Against his own wishes, he looked down. He felt no vertigo, but felt fear of the ladder as it passed through dozens of floors. Chris quickly averted his eyes and found his footing. The pain in his chest was pronounced now. The bullet from Reihner's shot was still inside and caused the fractured bone to move around. One solid punch could likely break his ribs.

The shades were angry. A sound like a scraping on a chalkboard emitted from the shaft, as if the shaft itself were making the noise. The phantoms watched his ascent with obvious anger.

Floor 312. That was how high he had climbed from his point of origin. How many floors though was not known to him. The Captain got off the ladder, made contact with the catwalk, and immediately doubled over, slamming down on the grid-covered metal. His shirt was soaked through with blood that had semi-coagulated. He had lost a lot though.

No. He had a job. He needed to get to Marshall. If he bled out before he got there, then so be it, but there was no way that he would just quit. Lying on his side, he reached into one of his belt pockets and pulled out an adrenaline shot he had stolen from Reihner's lab. Biting off the tip of the syringe, he injected it into his chest.

That worked. After a moment, whatever blood was still remaining flowed, and he was on his ruined feet. What Chris did not know was that he had ripped part of his deltoids in the climb. The adrenaline would dull that feeling. Half a dozen muscles all over his body were in danger of massive damage. In fact, every step he took put him closer to being in bed for months. He pulled at the door that read 312, and a bullet ricochet caused him to snap in reflex. He pulled harder, forcing the doors to come apart. When they were open far enough, he squeezed himself inside. Before him – with their backs to him – were two ONI agents firing at people down the hall with energy weapons – Chaos Energy Rifles.

Chris snapped without warning. He pulled out the stolen scalpel and stabbed the man on the left in the back with the instrument and shattered the back of his skull with a supercharged punch. The agent dropped silently without knowing what hit him. By the time the second agent saw the crazed Captain, Chris grabbed the agent by the scruff of his neck and slammed him face first into the wall. The man's head dented the metal wall. The ONI agent raised a hand in a pleading measure, but that didn't save him. Chris slammed three more timed before letting the agent's body drop twitching.

A third agent turned and leaped at seeing the man. The pasty white skin of the man drenched further and he turned to run. Chris grabbed the fallen rifle of the man he just downed and fired three shots from the hip. The weapon barked, expelling waste heat. The bright green bolts connected with the agent's back, dropping him after the last bolt hit. If the man was alive, he had lost consciousness by the time he hit the floor.

He quickly looked over the weapon, getting familiar with it. It had the same general shape of an MA-5 rifle complete with stock and oddly enough, a bolt chamber, but bolted to the side of the gun was the Chaos Shard canister , shaped like a cylinder with the shard fastened in place. He went back to the first agent and pulled the scalpel out of the body, sliding it back into his belt. He then clicked the safety on for his gun before running towards the targets of the agents.

He was amazed to see that it was a collection of mercenaries. They wore bright orange and yellow armor. With them were three shapes he recognized – Rouge, Hera, and Reyes. They all had their guns pointed at him.

"Put it down!" The leader – a woman with hard wrinkles and a tight hair bun spoke. "Put it down or we will kill you!"

Chris didn't argue, but didn't lower the weapon. "Identify yourselves!" he roared. "Or I'll bake the goddamn lot of you!"

"He's friendly!" someone shouted. Major Hera jumped from the group and ran towards Chris. "What are you doing here?!" her mouth was agape and ears were tipped upwards. "We… we left you tied up! How did you get out… what happened to you?"

To the mercenaries, the captain was a walking corpse. He may well have been dead. Hera's hand went to the wound on his chest. "You're bleeding!"

"Badly, I know."

"You're not in pain?"

Chris looked her dead in the eyes. "More than you can possibly imagine."

The merc leader said, "We have medical supplies."

"That won't be necessary." Chris quickly countered. "I have a job to do."

"You've got a hole in your chest, you look like you crawled from hell, and you don't want biofoam."

"Nope." he shook his head. "If it's all the same to you."

"Jesus Christ, what did he do to himself?" Reyes said in a voice loud enough to be heard.

Hera grabbed Chris' arm and forced it over. She saw the deep cuts in his skin. "Please tell me you didn't make these."

"I did."

She closed her eyes and titled her head up. "Oh god, why, oh why did you do that?"

"To leave a message."

"The fuck is he talking about..." the tone basically said, 'I'm feeling uncomfortable here!'. The tightening of grips also spoke volumes.

"What message, Captain?" Hera quickly said. "What are you trying to say?"

"I don't have the words. The Didact wanted me to tell you all. He's the key."

"The Didact?" The Librarian's husband?" Hera.

"Wait." The merc leader asked. "You're talking about a Forerunner?"

"Yes. A Promethean Warrior. He's given me a message to deliver. This is the message," he held up the arm with the glyphs carved into it. "Requiem."

"What does that mean though?" Rouge asked. "Requiem! Is it a code? A person? An AI?"

"I don't know! Stop looking at me as if I have the answers!" Chris screamed. "I have nothing!"

"This is fucked." The merc with the strong accent said. "Can we just get get upstairs and hang Marshall by his briefs or something?"

"I'm with you on that." Chris nodded. He shouldered the gun and quickly looked it over. "I could blow up the whole goddamned world with this thing. I think I just might." He cracked his neck and then walked back towards the shaft.

"Oh boy..." Reyes breathed. "I knew one of us should have stayed behind."

Hera mouthed for a second searching for something to say. "Wait! Wait! I can't let you do this!"

Chris turned around and pointed the gun straight at her. "And why not, goddamnit?! Why can't I do this? I think out of all of us I deserve a bit of closure!"

"I need it too! Please! Listen to me!" Hera placed her hand on the barrel and pushed it down.

"Go call the car up. Looks like this guy opened the door for us." The merc leader said. The soldiers nodded and filed around Chris and Hera who stood alone.

"I have spent twenty years trying to find you. Please don't do this! Don't put all my effort to waste. We don't have to end it like this."

"What…?" Chris asked. "I don't understand."

"And that's my fault! I was such an idiot for not telling you earlier, but I was afraid that it would compromise you. You didn't need the stress."

"I don't! Who are you?"

Hera said it all at once. "Your daughter."

No thoughts crossed his mind. Chris turned on his heel. "I don't have a daughter."

She ran around him. "I know! I know! Please, I don't know if I'm getting through to you, but please listen!" She let her gun fall to her sling and tried to stop him. "Remember when I told you about the Prometheus? My father the Lord Captain? That was you! Not exactly, but it was you! You have to be the same! Your genetic and mine should be almost the same! Chris, I'm your daughter! Please, please look at the locket here!"

He has seen this before. The locket she carried with her hung from her neck. She quickly pulled it off and put it in his bloodstained hands. "Open it."

Chris did so. There were two photos. One of a woman – a rabbit like Hera. She had short blond hair between her ears. The left one was slightly crooked. It made the woman look cute. Her eyes were a deep shade of blue, and a pair of bucked teeth slightly poked from under her lips. A small bundle was in her breast. A baby girl was swaddled. The same blond hair was in a tuft on her hair. The baby was sleeping, but the woman was staring straight at the camera. A strange feeling went over Chris. Like he saw this in a dream. Distant echoes of something he may or may not have seen. Someone he carried about felt this feeling before. Like dreams broke barriers. He felt like he knew the woman. Something was written in a language he couldn't understand.

"Her name was Alena. My name isn't Abigail. You named me Aleneya – after my mother. You said I looked like her."

The man though was of note. The face. Going off the face, he could have been this man's twin. But the man was taller than the woman – taller than he was. He was built like a mountain in his uniform – not unlike his own dress blues, but with markings he didn't recognize, and his name was in the same script as the woman's name.

"My father's name was Kyrstef. Lord Captain of the Prometheus. His people were the Old People come back to their scarred world."

"Your father died?" Chris asked.

"Yes. By the Tyrant Queen's hand."

"I'll be joining him soon."

"Wh… what?!" Abigail said. "What are you saying?"

"I was never meant to walk away unharmed. That was what the Forerunners didn't tell me. My body's broken. The only thing that's keeping me going is the geas. The shadows are following me. I can't ignore them forever."

"But what about the extractor?"

"There's nothing to bring back. It'll wipe my memories. Someone just tried to do it to me. There will be nothing but a shell."

Reyes and Rouge were secretly listening while waiting for the elevator car. Both felt a deep sense of pity and regret. Chris couldn't see the pain in Hera's eyes.

"We can make new memories! Please, father! I don't want to lose you too! You're all I have left!"

"I'm not your father. I was never there when you took your first step. Your first words. I don't know anything about you or your mother! The man you know doesn't exist here!"

She looked at the floor. "I'm sorry." she said. "I've been looking for so long. I've been lost for so long. I just wanted someone I can look to. I just want to say 'I love you' to someone again!" She wrapped her arms around the Human and started to cry. "I'll never see her again, and I dream about her every night! I just want to hug my dad again! You're all I have!" Her tears stained his already bloodied shirt, but she held tightly. Chris found himself blinking. He hugged her back. The stabbing pain in his mind lessened, but the woman appeared.

"In the end she means nothing. You said it yourself. You're not her father."

But I am for her.

The woman was silent. Hera cried and spoke in a language he didn't know. She spoke it fluently and through tears. It sounded like song, but her tears broke the stanzas of her words.

"You can't be there for her. There is more importance for you."

Behind the woman, the Librarian appeared. She was a glow, radiating. The world around him stopped and the air whispered as she spoke. "The purpose of life is to produce inheritors. Though your mind is compromised and your damage extensive, you have completed your task in life. Your mission is complete. You have produced word of the Prisoner and the location of my husband's place of rest. He is the key to finding the Prisoner and its cradle.

"That's it? One word? One word was the point of all this? Why didn't you do this earlier?"

"You needed to have the knowledge imparted upon you! You needed to see and to feel! Only your experiences can be captured and analyzed. Now that your mind has seen what it has needed to, our task is complete. The next mission can be carried by others."

"Does that… does that mean..."

"Yes, Human. It will stop. Your purpose is completed. Do as you will. Please find my husband, and please give him patience. He has been asleep for a long time."

"But..."

The woman was shocked. Scared even. She stood and her own tears soaked into her fur. "She's stopping it? Does that mean… I'll fade?"

The Librarian nodded. "It is the way of the geas. You and the visions will be compressed. Stored and kept safe. It is the job of the Humans to remove the geas for study."

"But, I'll die!" She said, but already she was disappearing. The woman looked at Chris with sparkling eyes. "You said we'd be together! You promised!"

"I didn't know this would happen! Please don't take her!"

But she was gone. No noise came from her. The grip was gone. The sounds were gone, and no more voices pounded within his head. There was Hera, still gripping him tightly. He struggled to remember the woman, but couldn't even recall her face. He put his head to hers, and just stood there.

"What happened? What did you see?" Hera asked.

"I can't remember. I don't know what she even looks like anymore."

"Who?"

"I don't know." Chris said, frightened. "But I'm sorry. I guess I know what it feels like to lose someone then. My parents… what were their names…?

"I am so sorry." Hera said. "I just want to start over! Please, be there for me, papa."

"The… car's here." The merc leader said. "I can crack into it to take us to the presidential office and take us right there."

"That's fine." Rouge nodded. He noticed Chris walking up to them. His skin was slick with tears. "Are you alright, hon?"

"No." he whispered. "I'm not."

She blinked and hugged him, softly at first and then tightly.

"Do I know you?" Chris whispered into her ear, more of a plea than a question. "Who are you?"

"It's Rouge, Christopher. Do you remember me?"

"No." he gasped.

She kissed his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you the woman I saw?"

She wiped a tear away. "No I'm not." she said wiping her eyes. "I wish I could say I was. It would make you so happy, but I can't.

"The visions?" Reyes asked.

"They're gone." Chris said. "They're all gone."

"You're not happy?"

"I lost everything, Reyes. I can't remember. I can't remember anything."

The doors opened and the group filed inside.

"Alright Vanguards! Firearm check! Make sure we get ready to breach and I want to clear this room! It's likely going to be a hotbox of fire so watch your aim and pick your targets! We want Marshall alive! Any of his toadies are to go with him. Armed security are designated as fair targets! Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"What was her name?" Chris asked aloud.

"Whose?" Rouge asked.

"The woman? What was her name? What did she look like?"

"Sally." Hera said finally realizing. "Her name is Sally!"

Chris repeated the name to himself. "Please show me a picture. Quickly!"

Rouge nodded and pulled out a datapad. She quickly typed in documents, and pulled up a woman's face. Chris grappled for it. He held out the picture and looked at her. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. The curve of her body, the neat red hair, and her smile was infectious. Two big blue eyes looked through the screen and made contact with him. He grinned. "Wow."

"Is she cute?" Rouge asked.

He touched the photograph with his finger, tracing her cheek, then he gazed at her smile, and then he closed his eyes, imagining her gaze, and smiling when he could recall it, a gasp of joy escaping him as he thought of it again, and then again. It felt so wonderful to remember.

"Sally." he repeated, committing it to memory. It was now the most important thing in his life. This name, was now everything to him.

"Ready?" Reyes asked, cycling his rifle.

"As I'll ever be." Chris said, eyes focused and forward. "Gotta see those eyes for real."

His heart rate slowed. The world accommodated this. He thumbed the safety on the energy weapon and drummed his fingers on the weapon. A slow ding from the elevator. "Presidential Offices".

The doors slid open and the Captain filed out, weapon shouldered. He took three steps from the car doors, and was shot in the head.