[Gift from beyond the veil, 1x Random Gold Ticket] (Shadow_solder7)
I blinked the Gacha away as I followed Bornstellar, the IsoDidact. Despite the few disagreements we'd had in the past two weeks, we'd come to a decent understanding. More than anything, we both feared the Flood.
That kept us from dividing the few remaining Forerunners even more. I know Bornstellar and the others of this era only see the bad of the Ecumene, but my people and I have seen the good that can be done as well.
It was not time for philosophy; however, we had a parasite to exterminate. As we walked towards the control center, millions of Flood ships under the control of Mendicant Bias were currently locked in combat with the remains of the Forerunner fleet, controlled by Offensive Bias.
Even then, thousands more Flood ships were on their way to Erde Tyrene. The Librarian was finishing the Excession so future humans would have a way to the Ark. She'd also been busy drawing as many Flood ships as she could toward Erde, to keep them away from what we were about to do.
Entering the control room, we found the last of the Forerunners in the entire galaxy. Their fleets were cold machines, their planets were writhing masses of Flood, and their culture and history were next.
Bornstellar made no final speech. There was no talk of destiny or of the Mantle; there was silence as Bornstellar activated the rings' slipspace coordinates, and a massive portal formed over the Ark.
We watched together, Forerunner, Ancilla, Viltrumite, and others, as the 7 rings floated up from the Foundry and into the portal. Silence reigned in the Citadel as we watched the rings travel through slipspace.
Despite the impossible distance they covered, the rings emerged from slipspace ten minutes later. Faber had really gone above and beyond in the making of the rings; they were likely the fastest and most dangerous installations ever made.
Once the rings had signaled they were in the correct position, Bornstellar input the final command and stepped away from the console. All was silent for a moment as the weight of the death of trillions of sentient beings fell upon their shoulders.
Bornstellar finally spoke, his voice tired. "May the Mantle forgive us all."
------------
Across the galaxy, countless Flood forms were writhing and consuming. Thousands of worlds had been consumed, and hundreds more were being eaten as the Primordial sent for the Flood.
Near what used to be Forerunner space, two Contender-Class Ancilla were locked in battle. Mendicant Bias and Offensive Bias were no longer playing games.
Mendicant controlled the majority of the Flood ships in the galaxy. Bringing everything under its twisted command to bear on the Maginot Sphere the Forerunners had hastily constructed.
It cared not for casualties; the Flood was undying. It was only concerned with tearing down the last bit of Forerunner power before it began searching for the hidden Ark. The Greater Ark was long gone, torn apart by Flood ships and Star Roads; the Lesser Ark would not fare any better.
Offensive was just barely hanging on; at least it appeared that way. After the destruction of the Greater Ark, Offensive was given total control over every remaining Forerunner vessel in the galaxy.
The only things not under Offensive Bias' control were the Mantle's Approach, the Lesser Ark, the Neoteric Array, and the small fleet of ships given to the stranger. Even then, it might not be enough.
For weeks now, Offensive had been doing its best to destroy the Flood fleet before capturing and returning Mendicant to the Forerunners. Then new orders had arrived: stall the Flood fleet and Mendicant for as long as possible.
Unlike Mendicant, Offensive did not question orders. It began faking losses and withdrawing to fool Mendicant. So far gone and under control by its Flood masters, Mendicant was unable to see past the ruse and was slowly drawn into the trap.
During the last week of conflict, Mendicant seemed to awaken, forcing Offensive to push aggressively as they became locked into this current battle. As the battle began damaging nearby planets, even from slipspace, Offensive received one final message: well done.
Offensive was confused, but this changed when a purging flame swept across the entire galaxy. Both fleets were violently torn from slipspace as Mendicant screamed in pain and frustration at the loss of its corrupted crews.
Offensive seized the chance and tore apart what remained of the Flood Fleet, and extracted Mendicant Bias from the inside of a ship, securing it for travel.
-----------
"How pathetic! Even now you use simple tricks to keep me contained." The Primordial chuckled as Faber sped up the time lock. He had no words left for this monstrous being.
His Ancilla flashed a warning to him of the installation's activation, but he paid it no mind. Faber knew his sins; he'd known for long enough and was determined to do one thing right: kill the Primordial.
Ignoring the jeers and threats levelled by the Primordial, Faber began setting his things straight.
Knowing the stranger had been gathering and collecting information during its indexing, the Master Builder had his Ancilla send as many technological schematics to the Lesser Ark as possible; the stranger would find them.
Faber then left, leaving the snarling Primordial to its fate as he stepped out into the ring's exterior. Despite being a part of the Senescent Array, Gyre 11, now Installation 07, was magnificent.
Though no longer the grand structure it once was, 07 held a beauty that he found difficult to put into words. Faber intimately knew every inch of this ring; he knew where each power conduit was that fed into the main pulse, as well as the thousands of auxiliary systems meant to keep the Cylix safe deep below the surface.
It was a shame he would not be alive to see the reseeding of the galaxy, but perhaps it was for the best. He'd bent the Mantle to his whims for far too long; it was time for its rightful wielders, Humanity, to rise.
His ancilla finished sending the technology it had access to a few seconds later and informed him that the Primordial was correct; the Domain was falling apart. He'd seen the beginnings of it when Maethrillian fell. Millions of voices screamed in agony as the Domain shook.
Now, it seems the end had come for it as well. For millions of years, the Domain had kept the Forerunners above the rest of the galaxy; now that time had passed. And so, Faber-of-Will-and-Might, the last Master Builder of the Forerunner Ecumene, died to the Halo's cleansing flames.
----------
[Not bad, nerd. Didn't think you'd actually do this, but proved me wrong. Here ya go!]
[Survive the firing of the Neoteric Halo Array, 1x Legendary Trait]
I silently rolled it, and the Gold Ticket from earlier, as I rested. It had been hours now since firing the array, and time would be used for rest before the reseeding began. The IsoDidact was currently in a Council meeting to discuss their next steps.
[Spinning, spinning, spinning, done!]
[Dark Resistance]
|Rare Trait|
You are naturally resistant to Darkness and Darkness-based effects. Such as shadow blasts, darkness chains, clouds of darkness, shadow blades, etc. This resistance scales with your base stats.
Not bad for a Gold Ticket. Next!
[Throne]
|Legendary Trait|
Race Change - You are a Throne, one of the highest-ranking angels with four pairs of wings. As a Throne, you possess great physical and magical abilities. All Holy and Light attributes are greatly boosted and cost less mana to use. You are capable of instinctively developing Holy and Light Magic. You also possess the ability to convert your own energy into searing holy light or pure holy energy. In exchange, all Darkness and Unholy attributes are greatly weakened and will hurt you upon use.
I winced as said wings burst from my back. My already stupid energy reserves grew even larger as I felt the two sources of power start fighting. My Viltrumite blood was doing everything it could to consume the Throne trait, while said trait was burning any Smart Atoms that got too close with holy fire.
My ancilla erupted in panic as it tried its best to stabilize me. It was all made worse since I had several healing factors. The Viltrumite one, the Throne one, and my Regenerator trait were actively tearing apart my body while stitching me back together.
Though nowhere near as agonizing as when I was stabbed in the back with the Longinus X, it was still enough that I sent for aid. Lifeworkers burst into the room to take me away as they tried their best to figure out what was going on.
As I was taken into the medical ward, I was able to suppress the pain enough to give them commands. "Put me into a time lock; I'll be fine eventually," I told them as a few familiars burst into the room, Ridley and Lust, to be exact.
The desert elemental sisters, Dune and Oasis, were right behind them. Oasis, the healing sister, immediately started casting healing magic on me, which brought the pain down by a lot. Since I had an absurd amount of energy, she was able to continue casting.
I then gave my final command to them as Bornstellar entered as well. "Ridley, Lust, you two assist the Lifeworkers in reseeding the galaxy; I will join you when I can. Make sure the others have somewhere safe to stay here on the Ark."
"I'm guessing this has to do with your strange abilities?" Bornstellar asked. I nodded.
"Two different power sources are currently fighting over control of my body; it's slowly melding into something greater, but I need time. Oasis is helping the process along, so she stays with me."
Bornstellar nodded, ordering everyone to leave me alone as we were sealed away, and the healing began.