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| - The warriors charged with serving as the eyes and ears of the Sangheili government boasted no grand fortress or palace as their headquarters. Their place was in the shadows, hidden away from all except those who wielded them. Deno had many lairs across Sanghelios, but his favorite by far was a large catacomb that stretched for miles beneath the rolling plains of the Vadam state. His parents were buried here amidst these sprawling chambers, along with thousands of other keepless peasants. Dozens of his brothers and friends were here, stolen away by war, disease, or the endless decay of time. Passing between their tombs, inscribed with folk poems and images from Sanghelios's long and glorious past gave him perspective on what he had sacrificed so much and so many to defend. To cast aside his honor and the chance to follow his friends to a noble death on the battlefield was the most painful trial he had ever undertaken in the service of his planet and his people. The tombs had not been outfitted with artificial lighting so as to preserve the rest of the dead. A torch-bearing warrior, one of only a handful of subordinates with knowledge of this sanctuary, kept pace with Deno's slow gait but the light he cast was hardly necessary. Deno's eyes had adjusted to the darkness long ago. Though lights were not permitted, the tomb had been wired with the best communications technology in the galaxy. A signal could be transmitted from here to the furthest point in the galaxy and never be detected. It was into this impressive broadcast system that Deno was accessing through a small headpiece that left his hands free to grip the head of his cane. "Yes," he said. "I have transmitted all the data that was recovered from the human rebels' headquarters. Much of it is encrypted, but none of it gave me much trouble. I doubt you will have difficulties with it." The spymaster paused by one tomb to examine its carving: that of a peasant laborer struggling against the burden of the crops he was gathering on his back. A lavish keep rested on a hilltop in the background, overlooking the laborer's toils. "A few things of note," he said, responding to the voice on the other end of his transmission. "Mostly the locations and identities of other groups within their movement. Some contact information on whatever Syndicate agents they dealt with. And you may find the data on the one they called 'the Reaper' rather interesting as well." He tapped the end of his cane on the carved laborer, then traced it over to rest on the image of the keep. "And there was some information that might prove useful in understanding why they chose to attack civilian targets. You will find it under the instructions they were given when hired through the Syndicate." Deno turned away from the peasant's picture and continued on his way through the catacombs. His warrior escort followed behind him at a respectful distance. "The attack on the Incumbent Wrath caught everyone by surprise," he noted to his headpiece. "My agents are being hounded by orders to discover why the Path Walkers chose it as a target. The Cleansing Blade's involvement did not go unnoticed, either." He listened to the response. "Interesting," he said calmly. "So the target was captured after all. Autel 'Vadam reported that he had been killed in the fighting. No, I'll make the arrangements to ensure the government continues to think that. "I've destroyed the original files from the human base," he continued. "I will tell my superiors there was nothing useful in them, but anything that could have betrayed your involvement is gone." He nodded. "Very well. My agents have some additional developments to report. Those will be transmitted to you shortly. Very well." He signed off and continued his hobble down through the twisting corridors, past casket after casket of those who had been taken before their time. "And now we wait," he said over his shoulder. His escort grunted. A smile passed through Deno's mandibles as he removed his headset. "Shinsu 'Refum," he murmured, staring ahead into the darkness. "What an interesting person."
*
* "You should not be trying to move," Shinsu advised the Cleansing Fire's latest guest. "Do you have any idea how much damage your body has sustained over the past few days?" The only reply he got was a withering glare. It was amazing how much ill-will could be thrown into a single eye. The human known as Simon-G294 and Mordred sat up on the cot and pushed his blankets away. He maintained his glare for a second longer before his face crumpled in pain and he clawed at his heavily bandaged chest. A hiss of pain slipped from his mouth as his lips spasmed in a wordless cry of pain. As much as he valued a stoic approach to suffering, Shinsu couldn't blame the human for his reaction. The energy sword that had impaled him had missed severing Simon's spine by centimeters. Had Pula not come across him when she had and dragged him back to a boarding shuttle, there wouldn't have been anything the Fire's medical facilities could do for him. Shinsu clasped his hands behind his back and waited patiently for Simon to regain hi s composure. The human shot him a hateful look as beads of sweat coursed down his forehead. "You have one of my subordinates to thank for your survival," Shinsu continued. "I wanted you captured alive, but some of the warriors under my command were less than informed about the circumstances." "Go... to... hell," Simon choked, slumping back against the cot. Shinsu had been furious when he had learned of how close they had come to losing their prize completely. But when he looked back on the assault, he had only himself to blame for the close call. Instead of directing the efforts to find Simon, he had gone on after the hangar. To make matters worse, he had failed to prevent a shuttle full of targets escape the Wrath. Had Simon been aboard with them, the entire operation would have been a failure. He shook his head at the thought of it. Autel 'Vadam had once again been within his reach only to be snatched away at the last minute. The Vadam heir was proving quite troublesome to kill. And Tuka. Shinsu had seen his brother aboard the shuttle as well just before it vanished. But in the end, Tuka no longer mattered. He had chosen his own path, just as Shinsu had chosen his. Apart from the infrequent reports Shinsu's agents had on him, Tuka was of no concern to the Cleansing Blade. "You should rest," Shinsu told him. "It is a miracle you were able to survive so long with the wounds you sustained before the energy sword did its work. Do not tempt fate again." Simon's prosthetic came up to pick at the greying bandages covering his left eye. "I'm sick," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Of waking up as someone else's fucking prisoner." Shinsu clicked his mandibles. "Then you can rest assured that you are not my prisoner. Once you are healed, you are free to leave this ship whenever you wish." The human's remaining eye narrowed. "Liar." "I have no reason to detain you," Shinsu explained. "And I find unnecessary bloodshed distasteful. We will even take you to the location of your own choosing." Simon grimaced, clearly still as suspicious as ever. "Then why save me?" he asked, struggling with every word. He was undoubtedly still recovering from the copious amount of blood he had lost back on the Incumbent Wrath. "Why not... leave me?" "You have something we need." Shinsu clicked his mandibles again. "Or at least, you had it." The human's eye widened as realization flooded into its grey pupil. He struggled to rise once more, sitting halfway up only to be seized by another spasm of pain. Shinsu watched impassively as he snarled and writhed helplessly on the cot. "The fortune you hoped to extract from Idat 'Ostal's accounts is no longer within your reach," Shinsu continued. "It pains me to have deprived you of something you so clearly valued, but that is reality." Simon continued to struggle, but Shinsu could already see the defeat in his eye. As much as he clearly wanted to deny it, this human saw the truth plainly. He could only run from it for a little while. "To take such colossal wealth and put it at the disposal of one such as yourself," Shinsu continued, shaking his head. "It was an impressive dream. But you must understand that the dream must disappear when the dreamer wakes." The eye burned with fury again, and in it Shinsu could see the same impotent rage that had possessed him so long ago, caught amidst the wills of those more powerful than himself, stripped of everything and incapable of doing a thing about it. How strange, to see that same fire burning in the single eye of a bed-ridden human. "Stop fighting, dumbass." A small transmitter beside the cot flickered and the holographic form of the construct known as Diana sprang to life beside her struggling partner. "He isn't lying. I had to give him the codes. By this point, the accounts have already been emptied out. There's nothing we can do." It had been a calculated risk to even keep the construct aboard the Fire. Shinsu had seen firsthand the carnage they could wreak aboard a warship such as this, and Umbra had even come close to insubordination in his opposition to his commander's decision. The room they resided in was protected by layer upon layer of potent firewalls and jamming frequencies. It was a veritable black hole, completely shut off from the Fire's key systems. As far as the rest of the ship was concerned, this little space didn't exist. A miniature life-support system had even been cobbled together to provide the room with its own airflow. Even with the safeguards, Shinsu couldn't dispel the unease he felt watching the strange hologram converse with her partner. For once his own curiosity had gotten the better of him; it was so strange how something so deadly chose to take the form of a human child. Everything about this Spartan and his insolent partner fascinated him. "How?" The anger faded from Simon's eyes. He didn't sound so much defeated as tired. "How'd they make you give it up?" "I held my blade to your throat and promised to cut it if she didn't do as I asked." It had not been the most elegant solution, but Urei had grown impatient the moment Simon had been secured. Shinsu needed to keep his new ally sated, for now. The human's lips parted in a weak sneer, but the defiant expression didn't rise up to his eye. "You expect me to believe that?" he demanded with a pained cough. "Like that would ever work..." His voice faded away and he shook his head wearily. "It did, didn't it?" "They've got my data chip too, dumbass," Diana the construct shot back. "Do you think I had a choice?" Simon looked up at the ceiling. To Shinsu, the human seemed to deflate before his very eyes. His body under the sheets went limp and his head fell back against the cot. Even his face slackened and lapsed into a look of utter defeat. "I guess I should be grateful my partner gives a damn about me after all," he muttered. "I'm all heart, dumbass." Shinsu didn't know why he was giving the former Spartan so much attention. His battle concerned the Sangheili, his own people. The affairs of one human outcast were no concern of his. But he couldn't help but be intrigued by the specimen before him. It was impossible not to see parts of himself reflected in this wretched human despite the immense gulf that divided them. To have lost everything time and time again, he mused. To endure so much pain and still have the will to carry on. Their paths were so similar, yet somewhere on their separate journeys they had made different choices that sent them off in two completely different directions. Now Shinsu stood here, commander of the feared Cleansing Blade and a grave threat to the Interspecies Union, while Simon lay before him, a beaten husk of a creature reduced to scrounging amidst the scum of the galaxy in order to survive. The construct had been right: the money from the accounts was already divided evenly between the Path Walkers and the Cleansing Blade. Even halved, the fortune was still immense. Shinsu had put so much energy into recovering it that he had barely paused to think about what he would do when it was finally in his possession. The Cleansing Blade's finances were already more than paid for by the network of business fronts and criminal investments they had set up in their infancy. Idat 'Ostal's money had never been key to their continued success, yet now half of it was theirs. This cancer eats away at our people and feeds the corruption that taints the galaxy. It was strange to now have so much of the thing that had turned the hearts of so many Sangheili and driven them to decadence and worthlessness. For now it would be stored away, preserved to ensure that the Blade had resources to fall back on should their other supply lines ever come under attack. He was not concerned about the half that had come into the hands of the Path Walkers. Urei 'Cazal might use some of it to further his own plans, but the great majority of it would be eaten up by the costs of the war that continued to rage against the Interspecies Union. The additional funds would grant the Path Walkers greater striking power against their enemies and keep the great powers of the galaxy distracted by conflict. It was the reason Shinsu had engineered the war in the first place. Urei was the one variable in the equation, the only person Shinsu knew would not move exactly as expected. His goals were clearly meant to bring about the Fallen's stagnant vision of the Sangheili's future, but how he intended to get there was not at all apparent. The Path Walkers were a means, not an end, that much was certain. Shinsu remembered Urei's suggestion that the Cleansing Blade could be used to eliminate them when they were no longer of use. The longer he sees myself and the Cleansing Blade as just another tool towards his ascension, the better. Shinsu had already lulled Urei with the idea that the Cleansing Blade was a sword that would simply fade away once the Vadam government was disposed of. That had been true, to a point, and as long as Urei believed that Shinsu and his followers were content to step aside and let him dictate the future of their people then he would make no serious plans to dispose of them as well when their time came. It was fortunate, Shinsu realized now, that he had been so vocal about his vendetta against Vadam during the time of the Fallen. So long as his enemies--immediate and future ones alike--believed his goal was simply vengeance for Refum then they would underestimate the true scope of his ambition at every turn. He looked back down at Simon, who had been conducting a hushed conversation with Diana while he had been lost in thought. It wasn't often that Shinsu dwelled on the power that he wielded, but looking down at this human who lay completely at his mercy he realized that Simon's life or death rested solely upon his own whim. So many lived and died at his whim, now that he thought about it. He simply ignored that plain fact by concealing it under his cunning and pragmatism. It was not a power he particularly relished. But just this once, faced with someone so fascinating and yet so insignificant, Shinsu decided to indulge his whim. "If it is any consolation," he said after another moment's thought. "Our government and your own people believe you dead. I will ensure they continue to believe that." Simon looked back up at him and something strange passed through his eye. Some indecipherable measure of relief, pain, regret, and acceptance ran its course across his face as he nodded slowly. "Yeah," he muttered. "I guess that's what I wanted." "I owe you a great deal," Shinsu continued. "More than you know. You will be compensated for your loss by, say, twenty million." A bitter smile flickered across the corner of Simon's mouth. "Well, that's peanuts to you now, isn't it?" He shook his head and sat up again. This time he propped himself up on his elbows without collapsing. "Who are you?" he asked. "My name is Shinsu 'Refum." Simon nodded slowly. "Oh. You're Tuka's asshole brother." So Tuka had told him of their meeting, after a fashion. This one had been with his brother on Famul, now that Shinsu thought about it. How interesting that a friend of his brother had turned out to be such a useful tool. "I suppose you could call me that," Shinsu admitted. "But you have nothing to fear. As I promised you earlier, my warriors will take you to any place you wish to go." "There's lots of places I want to go," Simon said wearily. "But since everyone thinks I'm dead..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "The Visag Keep. Take me to the Visag Keep."
*
* Only a handful of grey-armored warriors accompanied them aboard the Phantom. They clumped together in the rear of the troop bay, giving Simon plenty of space to himself near the front. He was back in his armor, which now sported twin holes where the Path Walker warrior had gutted him. It hurt to do just about anything, but at least the Cleansing Blade's medical techs had fixed him so he wasn't bedridden anymore. Your own people believe you to be dead. Shinsu's claim still bothered him, though he couldn't tell why. He might have been stripped of the fortune, but at least now he could sleep soundly so long as he kept a low profile. "Yeah," he muttered. "Because that worked so well last time." He had been "dead" before, right up until he'd wandered into the UNSC on Beta-14 and managed to kick off a war in the process. And this time, even more people thought he was dead. Tuka, Zoey, Cassandra... It's for the best, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. She had found her way back to where she belonged. He would just have been a distraction from that life. Maybe that was all he had ever been for her: a distraction. Aside from the times I ruined her life. It still hurt to think about. She had been the most important person in his life for so long, and now that person didn't even know he was alive. And it would have to stay that way for the rest of his life. But was she really the most important person? a nasty corner of his mind asked. You didn't fixate on her or dream about her every night. Venter had that slot all filled up. He closed his eye and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't escape the fact that Venter had been the center of his universe before and after his betrayal. He had been the one Simon measured himself against, the one he could never get out of his head. Venter had been his mentor and after that his enemy, and now that he was dead and the euphoria of victory had faded, it felt as if a huge hole had been blown in Simon's life. This was why he had to go back to Visag. Roni 'Visag had saved him once before, given him a home and a way to escape the pain of the past. The venerable master would do it again, Simon was certain of it. His last ties with his past life, Venter and Cassandra, had finally been severed. Perhaps now he really could find peace within strange alien teachings. Two figures stood out from the small group of Cleansing Blade warriors. Ro'nin glared over at Simon from under his battered Ultra helm. Normally he would have responded with a sneer or a caustic remark, but right now the sight of anyone that reminded him of everything he'd been through just cut Simon deeper. Kenpachus sat beside his partner, taking up as much space as three warriors. "So," Diana said in his earpiece. "What now?" "Nothing," he told her. "Nothing now." "So your plan is to just hang out at this keep for the rest of your life?" she demanded. "Maybe we lost the big score, but we've still got twenty-four million in the pocket. We've got plenty of options." "You do," he replied dully. "I don't. If Master 'Visag accepts me back, I'll stay for as long as he'll have me." He was dead now. Perhaps this was the best way to understand what that really meant. "Listen to yourself," she said with disgust. "'Master 'Visag'. Yesterday you were ready to take on the galaxy. Now you sound like a bad joke." "Shut up," he told her. "Shut up or I'll unplug you." "Just when you were starting to be interesting again," she muttered, but then did as she was told. He rested his prosthetic arm on his assault rifle and tugged at the energy swords strapped to his chest with his organic hand. Master 'Visag had given them both to him, a parting gift before he'd left the keep. They had saved his life more times than he could count. Perhaps when he finally met the old master he could find some way to repay him. Beside him, Shinsu 'Refum shifted idly from foot to foot. The female warrior who had apparently saved Simon on the Incumbent Wrath stood beside him. She followed Shinsu wherever he went and didn't seem to be big on conversation. "So why the hell are you coming?" he asked the Cleansing Blade's leader. It felt strange, talking to such a dangerous person. Shinsu might have let Simon live this time, but that didn't mean the lean warrior couldn't kill him without the slightest hint of effort. He was so incredibly different from Tuka that Simon couldn't help but wonder if one of them had been adopted. Tuka was a bundle of uncertainty and honor, as easy to read as a children's book. Shinsu radiated cold danger like an icebox and Simon still didn't know what to make of him. "I must pay my respects to Kaidon 'Visag," Shinsu explained without looking down. "As a student I studied the Visag blade style extensively. I always admired it for its grace and simplicity. Besides, this is the warrior who saved my brother and raised him as his own. That alone merits my gratitude." "Okay," Simon said uncertainly. Shinsu really was a closed book. "Aren't you worried he'll report you?" "The Visags have always prided themselves on neutrality. If I come with peaceful intentions, he will keep quiet about my appearance." Simon wasn't sure he liked the idea of an enemy of the Sangheili government paying a social call to his future sanctuary, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. He still had no idea what he'd say to Master Visag. Where the hell would he begin? He was beginning to come up with a short speech in his head when the pilot's voice sounded through the troop bay. "Commander, we are approaching the Visag keep low. But the escorts report that something is amiss." Shinsu folded his arms. "What is it? A government patrol?" "No," the pilot said. "But there is smoke coming from the compound. Magnifying... commander, significant plasma scoring to the keep walls." "Plasma scoring?" Simon demanded as every warrior in the bay stiffened. No. Too much has gone wrong already. Please, not another disaster... Shinsu turned on his heel. "Warriors, prepare yourselves," he ordered the other Sangheili. "Pilot, bring us in low. But keep watch for cloaked Phantoms." Simon tugged his helmet on and gripped his assault rifle. This couldn't be happening. It was all just some sort of accident. No one would ever think to attack the Visag keep. No one could hate someone as gentle and peaceful as Roni 'Visag. This was all a mistake. All a mistake...
*
* They leapt out of the Phantom's open side-door. The Cleansing Blade warriors immediately darted across the keep's courtyard, establishing fire zones and checking for hidden enemies like a well-oiled machine. Simon trailed behind them, assault rifle held loosely at his side. It was all so surreal. He could remember the courtyard as if he'd never left; he half expected to see Tuka and the other students off in the drill yard practicing sword combinations. The practice yard was empty now, empty save for two Sangheili corpses that lay still in the sand. Both wore plain robes; there was no sign of a weapon on either of them. "Commander," one of the warriors called. "A body in the gardening shed." "More in the garden itself," another reported. "Two are in armor." Simon trailed after Shinsu. His body felt numb. The beautiful shrubs and trees that Roni and his family had been so proud of had been set ablaze. All that remained now were their charred husks, and amidst them the bodies of the gardeners that had maintained them. He had seen carnage like this before, on Mamore and all the frontier hellholes his mercenary contracts had taken him. But on the frontier, the burnt-out houses and ragged corpses had all belonged to someone else. Even on Mamore he had focused more on survival than anything else. But this... this keep had been a place of peace. That house over there had been where the children had their lessons. It was on fire now. Half a dozen small bodies were huddled around the entrance, gunned down as they had tried to escape the flames. Here was the meditation circle. Simon had despised all the hours he and the other students had been forced to sit around it in search of inner peace. Three elders were lying here, looking as if they'd just fallen asleep while lost in thought. This was the tree where he'd once tricked Tuka into hiding stolen fruit from the kitchens. Something had ripped its great trunk in two and sent it toppling over onto the servants' quarters. A warrior in dark armor lay at its base, his chest opened by an energy sword cut. "They used heavy rounds," the female warrior whispered. "But this is a keep! No one uses such weapons against a keep!" "Who could have done this?" Ro'nin growled. The mercenary hadn't bothered to draw his plasma repeater. He just paced amidst the bodies, his hands balled into fists. "Not the humans," another warrior observed. "They used their own craft to attack the keeps." "Umbra!" Shinsu ordered. "Take two warriors and search the interior. Look for survivors!" The warriors fanned out, picking their way through corpses and ravaged buildings. The few armored bodies they found were dragged over to the center of the courtyard for Shinsu to inspect. Others vanished into the larger homesteads to search for even more dead. One warrior called out and a moment later he and one of his comrades were dragging the body of a warrior over to their commander. "This one's still alive!" Shinsu knelt over the injured warrior. He had been caught in the collapse of one of the homesteads and his armor was cracked and burnt. He coughed and struggled, but the warriors held him in place. "Did you do this?" Shinsu demanded. The warrior jerked his head. "Why? What crime merited this savagery?" Another jerk of the head. "Those were our orders..." he wheezed. Shinsu seized him by the collar and pulled his face in close. Several of the surrounding warriors backed away. It was the first time any of them had seen their commander lose his composure. "Orders?" Shinsu snarled. "You committed this monstrosity because of orders?" "They... harbored... traitors..." the warrior choked in protest. Shinsu shook his head in disgust and dropped the warrior back to the ground. "No," he said coldly. "You told the truth the first time. You killed them because that's what you were told to do." He activated his wrist gauntlet and slit the warrior's throat. "The government?" Ro'nin asked, incredulous. "The government ordered this?" "Of course," Pula spat. "Why do you think we oppose them?" Shinsu wasn't paying them either of them any heed. He looked the dead warrior over, inspecting his legion runes and identification chit. His fingers hesitated over the chit, then formed into a fist. He looked up at his subordinates, his eyes full of fire.
*
* Simon stumbled through the keep's inner workings. He had dropped his rifle several hallways ago as he tripped over yet another body. A few retainers had tried to make a stand at an intersection; plasma rounds had cut them to pieces. Walls had been ripped apart by grenades. Bodies were spread throughout dormitories and classrooms, in kitchens and washrooms. None had escaped the assault. He knelt and checked a young female wearing the robes of a nurse. A small infant was cradled in her arms. Its head had been smashed against the floor. He staggered onwards, blinded by the carnage around him. He had lived here, learned here, played here. It had been the only thing besides Cassandra that had soothed his pain after Mamore, and now it lay in ashes around him. Part of him knew where he was going. He slipped through the remains of what had once been an intricately carved door and moved on through the council chamber where the kaidon had once held court. The chamber passed by in a blur of bodies and destruction; he just kept going until he reached the door at the far end of the room. He had known that he would find Master Visag in the chapel. The small little room carved from a simple chunk of stone had always been the kaidon's favorite place to meditate. It was only fitting that he should have died there as well. Roni 'Visag had been renowned as one of the greatest swordmasters the Sangheili had ever known. Students from all over Sanghelios had flocked to the keep to study under him. They said he was a genius of the kind that only came around once a century, a master whose knowledge of the blade was rivaled by none. Yet when he died, he did not even have a sword in his hands. Simon didn't know how long he stood there, staring down at the corpse of the alien who had saved him and given him a place to call home. The master's body was slumped beneath the chapel's only bench, its robes drenched in blood and scorched from where the attacking warriors had sprayed him with plasma. But Roni's eyes were closed, his mandibles arranged in an expression of peace. He stood there and envied the master for being dead. Why live, when pain and loss were all to be had from this world? What was the point of dedicating yourself to the education of others, as Roni had done? Why bother to be good and virtuous, when in the end Roni had ended up no better than scum like Venter? Diana didn't say a word. Simon just kept looking down at Roni, glad of the helmet that kept a visor between himself and the dead master. Simon had deserved the Spartan program. He had deserved to find a father in a man like Venter. But he had never deserved a mentor like Roni. "Was it because of me?" he asked aloud. The words burnt his lungs even as he drew in the air to say them. "Did they kill you because you helped me?" "So, the old fool died in his little chapel then." Simon hadn't even heard Ro'nin approach. The mercenary stood beside him and looked down at Roni, his arms folded across his armored chest. "He always loved this place," Ro'nin continued scornfully. "So much easier to talk to the gods than with your own family, isn't it? Well, father, did the gods protect you here?" Ro'nin could have claimed to be Roni's mother and Simon wouldn't have cared. He heard the mercenary shift his weight as they both continued to stare at Roni's composed death mask. "Yes, I was his son," Ro'nin continued. "Bet you never guessed that one about me, eh Mordred?" Simon said nothing. "He cast me out, the pious fool," Ro'nin bore on, voice rising. "My uncle forced himself upon my sister, and when she took her own life I took his. But a kinslayer has no place among civilized folk, does he, father?" Still nothing. Ro'nin snorted but didn't look away. "You old fool," he muttered. "You never had a shred of good sense, and look where it got you." "A pleasant homecoming?" Kenpachus leaned against the chapel door, taking the whole scene in impassively. "Houses burned, family dead, father murdered," the Jiralhanae swordsman said with a shake of his head. "Glad all that happened to me before I left Doisac." Ro'nin grunted and ushered his partner inside. "Come on, get in here," he muttered. He pointed at the far wall, where an energy field protected a broad alcove. Within the field hung a massive iron blade wrought in the shape of an energy sword. "Find a way through the field and it's yours," the mercenary told Kenpachus. "The blade of Harka. The Visags' greatest heirloom. But I think you're the only one who can appreciate it now." "Well," Kenpachus said, admiring the hovering blade's craftsmanship. "I take back everything I've said about you people not knowing how to make a blade." "Just promise me one thing," Ro'nin muttered, turning away from his father's body. "Use it to kill the bastards who arranged all this." It was only then that he realized that Mordred was gone.
*
* Umbra never saw it coming. He had just left his warrior escort behind to investigate the security room when the door behind him slid open. Rough hands spun him around, and as he was propelled up against the wall he found himself staring into a pair of dark, furious orbs. "Umbra," Shinsu 'Refum's voice was lower than Umbra had ever heard it before. His commander's hand wrapped around his neck and began to squeeze. "You are a traitor to me, the Sangheili, and the Cleansing Blade." Umbra gasped for breath, struggling uselessly against Shinsu's relentless grip. "I am loyal," he coughed. "To the Cleansing Blade." "An odd way to show loyalty." The hands continued to squeeze. "I do not recall ordering the Visag keep destroyed, yet you arranged for it to be done anyway." "How...?" "The warriors who attacked this keep belonged to a unit that one of Deno's agents has direct control over. You are the only member of the Blade besides myself to have the codes needed to issue falsified orders to them." Shinsu's eyes narrowed into slits. "Did you really think I would not find out, Umbra?" "Not this quickly," Umbra admitted between gasps. "No." "Then why? What is the meaning of this?" Umbra fought to pry Shinsu's fingers from around his neck. "To send a message," he panted. "Another blow against the Vadams. The public will be furious when they find out what their government has done. After the human attacks..." His words were cut off as Shinsu's hand clamped back down on his throat. "You were charged with arranging for Venter's forces to strike air fields," Shinsu continued. "They were to precisely target government buildings for destruction. Yet when you handled their contract, you told them to strike indiscriminately." He shook his head. "There were many interesting things in the files Deno recovered from Venter. Some were more interesting than others." Umbra's head was growing fuzzy. A red film descended over his eyes as he struggled in his commander's grip. "Necessary..." he gasped. "All necessary..." The grip loosened and he could breath again. Shinsu slammed him back against the wall again. "Explain. Before you die, tell me why." "I accomplished more with these two blows than the Fallen ever did in all their years of war," Umbra explained, rubbing his throat. "Humans across the planet, butchering our people. The government takes weeks to put an end to it. And then their warriors are found to have butchered a peaceful clan. If we are lucky, there will be revolts across the planet within the week." Shinsu's face tightened even further. "When we sacrificed our honor, we did not let go of our basic instincts. We fight the Vadams for the crimes they have committed, not the ones we orchestrated!" "The masses need more," Umbra protested. "The government will deny this, of course, but it will not matter. The damage is already done. And now, with the plans we have in motion..." He wasn't able to finish. Shinsu slammed him against the wall again and pressed his forearm to his neck. "When you joined the Cleansing Blade, you swore an oath. I am your commander. You lied to me, went behind my back, did this!" His next few words would decide whether Umbra would live or die. He pushed back against the forearm and snarled, "I swore an oath to Shinsu 'Refum." His mind raced, but his mandibles moved as if they already knew what to say. "My commander is the Black Knight of Sanghelios. The mewling wretch in front of me now... you are not Shinsu 'Refum." Shinsu's grip loosened and Umbra finally wriggled free. He fell on his knees and glared up at his commander. "The Shinsu 'Refum I serve vowed to restore our people no matter what the cost," he continued. "He would tear down the very stars if it meant achieving his goals." "My goals do not include the slaughter of children." Shinsu's energy sword flashed to life. "Do you have anything more to say?" "Liar," Umbra spat. "Do you really think the Vadam keep will look any different than this when you achieve your revenge? When we loose Jiralhanae pirates against our cities, will the carnage be any less? What does one more keep matter, when we deal with the very future of our species?" He waited for the blade to strike, but it did not. It simply hung in the air, immobile before Umbra's throat. And he knew then that he was not going to die. "Is hypocrisy your newest weapon?" he taunted. "How do you justify this rage when your plans call for the deaths of millions of Sangheili? Everything I did, I did in service to the Cleansing Blade." "You want me to found our revolution on a lie," Shinsu said quietly. "More will flock to our banner, but only because of the lie you have created here." "No lie," Umbra replied. "A clan as famed as the Visags was slaughtered so easily. They had grown weak, just like so many others. And the rest of the keeps will see and take heed. There is no lie in that." He smiled and gestured at the blade. "You drew your blade. Do you plan to spill blood, or have you forsaken that tradition as well?" He didn't even see Shinsu move. Suddenly he was on the floor, screaming in pain as he grasped the stump of his right arm. The arm itself lay a few feet away. Shinsu deactivated his blade and returned it to his belt. "Very well," he said coldly. "I will shoulder the burden of your grand lie. Everything that transpired here rests upon my soul." He turned away. "But you will burn for this, Umbra. Very soon, you will burn." "And you?" Umbra gasped, trying to staunch the blood flow. He would need treatment soon or he would die. "I will burn as well." Shinsu stalked away down the body-strewn hall. "I am always burning."
*
* The gates to the keep had been blasted open, so Simon simply walked out the courtyard and found himself on the lip of the hill the Visags had built their home on. The sun was setting over the forest that surrounded the burning keep. He was dead. Shinsu had told him so. He'd thought that meant he had a chance to start over. He had been wrong. Not even death would let him escape the past and the horrors it contained. His helmet felt heavy on his head. He tugged it off with trembling hands and let it fall to the rocks at his feet. The last rays of sunlight danced across his remaining eye and the bandage that covered the maimed one. At one point, the warmth would have felt good, but now he couldn't feel it at all. Everything was cold and dark and silent. The gun was in his hands, he was taking aim at Emily and pulling the trigger. Over and over again, never letting up. Everyone who had ever given a damn had suffered because of him. All his posturing, all his efforts to survive, they had all amounted to nothing more than pain for everyone around him. None of this ever ended. There was always more suffering just around the corner. Always someone else to suffer and another person to spread the pain and death. There was never an end to any of it, because no one ever bothered to find the real people responsible. Pula was the first to find him. She watched silently from behind as Ro'nin joined her. Then Kenpachus ambled over and then half a dozen Cleansing Blade warriors. They all watched the Spartan's armored back, illuminated in the dying light. Simon stood there, head bowed, unmoving. The small crowd parted as one to let Shinsu 'Refum pass. The commander walked by and stood beside the Spartan. He said nothing, but Simon seemed to sense his presence anyway. "I've done horrible things," he whispered. "I deserve to suffer. But these people... these people never did anything." "And what will you do now?" Shinsu asked. "You are still dead." Simon turned his head then. Tears flowed in an unbroken stream from his remaining eye. "The government did this?" he asked. "The Vadams?" Shinsu nodded. "I want..." Simon took a breath. "I want to kill them all." No response. "You want to kill them too, right?" the Spartan continued. "Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just let me help you make them suffer." Shinsu nodded again, his eyes never leaving Simon's tear-streaked face. "And then?" "The UNSC, the rebels, all the people who do things like this." Simon turned his damp face back towards the sun, but it had already vanished behind the horizon. "I want to kill them all."
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