UNSC: What are you lot—the Night Lords' main fleet—doing here?
And why are the Covenant here too? Don't tell me... good grief, I really have to say it—wasn't it just a minor weapons incident? Did you really have to go and become traitors to humanity?
Night Lords: Hm? Isn't this the military nerve center of this universe's human civilization—the Unified Earth Government?
So why is a Covenant fleet here as well? And they arrived almost at the same time as us... Could it be that the UEG can't hold out and plans to surrender? Or did they detect our slipspace transition signature and decide to collude with the aliens—"secure the interior before resisting the external threat"—and set an ambush for us?
Covenant: The coordinates match what our probes transmitted. They also align with the intelligence traded from the human civilization's Outer Colony rebels. As for the UNSC Navy fleet—we know them well. Old acquaintances. This is Reach, without a doubt.
But then what is that enormous mass continuously emerging from slipspace into Reach's orbital space—something that looks like a flying temple in the heavens? Its size and scale are simply appalling. Are you here as well to seize the relics of the gods—the Forerunners?
Aside from that, the Prophets within the Covenant fleet could think of no other possibility.
With minds full of confusion, the internal communication channels of all three factions began operating far beyond normal load in an instant.
From the rift in reality torn open by eerie violet-red radiance, within the colossal fleet emerging in grand formation, the most eye-catching presence was the celestial-class supermassive warship that had only half cleared the rupture.
The Nightfall.
A warship capable of rivaling the Second Legion Retributors' flagship, the Imperial Fury. Over 300 kilometers in length, its exterior was that of a standard Imperial Navy heavy battleship.
Lavishly adorned, its hull—painted in the colors of the Eighth Legion—was overlaid with armor inlaid with gold, silver, and sapphire reliefs. Lightning motifs streaked across its dark blue surface.
Its prow consisted of a massive array packed with lance emitters. Point-defense orbital cannons, macro-cannons, electromagnetic guns, plasma batteries, and torpedo launch tubes—fortress-grade heavy weapons—covered every inch of the hull. Combined, their firepower rivaled that of an entire fleet, sufficient to execute any catastrophic extermination strike.
On the Nightfall's primary bridge, within a concealed conference chamber...
In stark contrast to its magnificent exterior, the interior bore no excess ornamentation. Only pitch-black, light-absorbing and sound-dampening walls and tiles. At the center of the chamber hung a crystal chandelier, accompanied by a wide-backed chair and a simple meal set upon the table.
A towering giant with deep blue skin stood in place. His presence alone was nearly unbearable, torrents of destructive energy flickering around him.
On his hands were a pair of master-crafted lightning claws dedicated to the art of slaughter, each brimming with terrifying annihilating force. At his side stood the commanders of the Night Lords' various grand companies and the Legion Honor Guard. At this moment, all were silent and solemn.
Gazing at the holographic tactical display, Konrad Curze did not lift his head. His slightly hoarse and icy voice echoed throughout the chamber.
"A Covenant fleet. Why have they appeared at Reach?"
After scrutinizing it for a moment, Konrad Curze sneered.
"And it's the fleet of the Prophet of Truth?"
As for how he identified it as the Prophet of Truth's fleet—the answer lay in interrogation, torture, and soul-searching Covenant alien prisoners.
Fleets such as the Fleet of Particular Justice, the High Charity Defense Fleet, the Fleet of Tranquil Composure, the Fleet of Righteous Vigilance, the Fleet of Furious Redemption, the Fleet of Rigorous Prayer, the Special Task Fleet—responsible for the Battle of Reach in the original Halo narrative—and the escort fleets of the three High Prophets...
After all, the numbering and designations of the Covenant's many space fleets were hardly secrets among its member species. Any alien of slightly higher rank knew them.
Each fleet bore a distinct insignia. To non-Covenant eyes, they might be indistinguishable. But Konrad Curze not only recognized them—he understood them well. That was why he was somewhat surprised. The supreme emblem borne by this fleet was unmistakably that of the Prophet of Truth.
"Why would the Covenant's three High Prophets personally risk themselves at the war's front lines? Those cowardly, weak, long-necked aliens who can only scheme with politics—do they truly possess such courage?"
His words were filled with disdain and contempt for the San'Shyuum—the Prophets.
"Legion Commander, since they've delivered their heads to our doorstep, refusing would be rather impolite," a grand company captain stepped forward and said.
"The problem is," another captain added after organizing his thoughts, "we came here to coordinate with the reconnaissance detachment—striking from within and without—to seize Reach with minimal losses, in the shortest possible time, and with the least destruction. Our objective is to paralyze the entire central command system of the United Nations Space Command for a considerable period."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"Now that the Covenant has inserted itself into the equation, do we proceed according to the original plan? Or... do we eliminate the alien scum first? Or perhaps conduct both operations simultaneously?"
"Is that even a question?"
The black eyes burning with deep blue phosphorescent light lifted, sweeping across the room. A faint curve tugged at Konrad Curze's lips.
"Only the weak choose. I want it all."
...
Reach. On the other side of the Fleet Command Tower base, Spartan Operations Division.
Shrill alarms blared throughout the facility.
"Why are there explosions? What's happening outside?"
"What? We're not allowed to leave the operations perimeter? What does that mean?"
"You're not only disarming us—you want to arrest the Doctor immediately? Hey, soldier, do you realize the consequences of joking like that?"
Having removed his MJOLNIR exoskeleton armor and wearing only a black titanium-nanocomposite bodysuit, the dark-skinned Spartan-134 angrily shoved aside the UNSC Defense Force lieutenant colonel who had come to announce Admiral Parangosky's orders.
Moments earlier, when the base alarms had sounded, the Spartans resting in the operations division had immediately risen, preparing to don their MJOLNIR power armor and investigate. The next instant, however, a UNSC Defense Force unit had surrounded the entire Spartan Operations Division.
They claimed to be acting under orders from Fleet Command's senior leadership to take over the entire Spartan Operations Division.
Hot-tempered by nature, Spartan-134 had immediately forced back the UNSC soldiers who were about to arrest Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey upon hearing the order.
He pressed his chest directly against the muzzle of a rifle, voicing his anger without restraint. To a Spartan, Dr. Halsey's importance needed no explanation.
Behind him, Spartans from Silver Team—Spartan-028 and Spartan-125—as well as Spartans from other teams, stood up as well, blocking the UNSC Defense Force's advance. Though they did not state it outright, their stance spoke for itself.
"Please do not make this difficult for us. Admiral Parangosky has ordered the immediate removal of all duties from Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey and her arrest!"
Click.
The UNSC Defense Force lieutenant colonel leading the unit refused to yield. He racked the slide of his pistol and jammed it hard against Spartan-134's chest, roaring sternly, "This is insubordination! Step aside now, or I am authorized to fire!"
Feeling the faint pressure against his chest, Spartan-134 was utterly unafraid.
A mere sidearm—even without his powered armor shell, a Spartan had no reason to fear it. Much like the Imperial Astartes power armor approved by Selene, the MJOLNIR powered armor currently equipped by the Spartans was also divided into inner and outer components.
The outer armor plating and helmet were composed of multilayered alloys. Between the armor shell and the wearer—aside from the titanium-nanocomposite bodysuit—there was a capillary system woven by molecular tools at the points of contact with the body, commonly referred to as "artificial skin."
It was a layer of polymerized lithium niobate gel. Not only could it significantly reduce the impact of incoming rounds, but under the control of an onboard computer it could regulate temperature and even alter density to adapt to various harsh battlefield environments.
Laughable. The lieutenant colonel could not push the Spartan back at all. On the contrary, he himself was forced several steps away with casual ease.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Enraged, the lieutenant colonel emptied an entire magazine into Spartan-134's chest. Seeing that the Spartan remained completely unmoved, he became even more furious.
"Damn it! Aren't you afraid of a court-martial? Move aside!"
Without wearing the full MJOLNIR exoskeleton system, a shot to the head or eye could indeed wound—or even kill—a Spartan. But the lieutenant colonel was not a fool. There was no need to escalate that far. Every Spartan was a vital military asset of the UNSC.
Moreover, the Spartans had not resisted nor displayed aggression. They were merely exhibiting a stance of nonviolent noncooperation. The officer did not wish to invite further trouble.
"We can step aside," Spartan-134 said stiffly. "But you must explain why Dr. Halsey is being arrested. You can't act without reason. At the very least, Admiral Parangosky should give us a clear explanation."
"..."
The lieutenant colonel's expression shifted repeatedly as the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. In the end, he gestured for his men to lower their weapons.
"I don't have that authority. I need to contact the Admiral."
He immediately activated his communicator, requesting a direct link to Admiral Parangosky. But aside from the distant thunderous roar of bolter fire, there was no response.
The lieutenant colonel looked up in alarm, at a loss.
The order had already been issued. Without Admiral Parangosky's confirmation, he was stuck here—unable to advance, unable to withdraw.
...
"Doctor, you concealed some sort of arrangement with Nathaniel from us..."
Inside the Spartan Operations Division's internal conference room, the fully armored green figure of the Master Chief fixed his gaze upon Dr. Halsey, who sat calmly before him.
Though phrased as a question, his tone carried certainty.
"Yes," Halsey admitted openly.
"Why?" The Master Chief's voice remained steady and level.
"John, you are the finest soldier I have ever seen. I know you swore to fight for humanity—to protect humanity until death. But... John, humanity is not synonymous with those vermin in the Council. They only drag down the efficiency of human civilization's development and progress."
"..."
The Master Chief remained silent, offering no judgment.
"I do not want my children to continue dying in this meaningless war. They are all my life's work. You most of all."
"I am not afraid of death."
"But I am afraid of losing you."
"John, if you still acknowledge me as your superior, then do not interfere in this matter," Halsey said earnestly.
When it came to understanding the Master Chief, Halsey undoubtedly had the right to speak. If you were his superior, he would obey you. If you were part of his team, he would die for you. But if you were a threat, he would do everything in his power to eliminate you.
By leveraging Admiral Parangosky's foolish order, her own authority as head of the Spartan Operations Division, and the fact that Nathaniel was human rather than alien, Halsey successfully restrained the Master Chief here.
"The conflict will pass soon. A new order will be established across the galaxy. The entire galaxy will be unified under a single regime. The Covenant will be dealt with. I guarantee it," Halsey said.
"..."
Taking his silence as tacit consent, Halsey rose and walked toward the entrance of the operations sector.
"I am assuming command of this order. Lieutenant colonel, return to your post—regardless of the current situation."
"You—" The UNSC Defense Force lieutenant colonel instinctively raised his weapon upon seeing Halsey.
At that moment—
Beep! Beep! Beep!
"Attention all personnel. This is a planetary orbital defense platform broadcast. Reach is under attack—Covenant fleet confirmed. Highest alert status. Transition to wartime readiness. All personnel prepare for combat. I repeat, Reach is under attack..."
"The Covenant?"
In that instant, Spartans and UNSC Defense Force soldiers alike turned their gazes toward Halsey in unison.
Hearing this, Halsey quietly exhaled.
"What unfortunate timing."
The tall green-armored figure moved like a phantom, passing Halsey in a blur.
"John, come back alive." Now that she could no longer restrain his actions, Halsey said nothing more.
Holding his MA5 rifle, the Master Chief nodded once and walked toward the exit without a word.
Clap!
"Order revised. Spartans, prepare to deploy. Mission objective: eliminate all Covenant lifeforms on sight!" Halsey commanded, her hands clasped, her expression severe.
"Yes!" ×N
In an instant, the entire Spartan Operations Division burst into motion. All Spartans present—both Phase II and Phase III—donned their full MJOLNIR exoskeleton systems, armed themselves with live weapons, and ran swiftly toward the deployment bay.
Standing at the exit, Halsey watched them depart like a mother seeing her children off to war.
"Under any circumstances, I want you to cherish your lives as much as possible," she said—perhaps the final instruction she would ever give.
...
Meanwhile, in outer space, the Covenant fleet's slipspace rupture had begun to close. But the main fleet of the Eighth Astartes Legion—the Night Lords—continued to emerge endlessly from the violet-red tear in reality.
And the battle had already begun.
Countless scorching lance beams erupted from the gun decks of the Imperial Navy warships. Brilliant as miniature suns, their dazzling radiance swallowed all other colors.