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  • Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War
Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War
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Posted by: l XGCxReaver l
Ahh the anticipation is killing me man... you know some people open presents Christmas Eve. You should probably help these people out and go ahead and post this new chapter now...


It's in germany and other mainland european countries (obviously not all) that they open presents on xmas eve.

Because bungie keep american time this post will prob. show as the 24th of december, but actually over here in UK it's allready xmas day, so happy christmas every1, and u guys r lucky as i'm techinically gonna have 2 wait another extra day 4 clark to post.

  • 12.25.2006 2:25 AM PDT
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Hey Clark, I know I haven't posted in a LOONG time but thought I would on such a good day. Post or not I think that we should all be happy that this thread and story have gone on this long.

Merry Christmas All.
-kokiri-

  • 12.25.2006 8:34 AM PDT
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You've all waited a long long time for such a moment. And I am here to tell you that your waiting has paid off! This is the ultimate chapter! Read it and let your love flow!


The End of a War

The Forerunner Chronicles

Part Three

The Stillborn Universe

When they came, the night was dead and the nomadic tribe had been asleep inside their makeshift dwellings for some time. A storm earlier in the evening had halted their progress and they set up camp in a outcropping of rocks near a cliff-face. giving them cover from the rain along with a sense of safety from the terrible cries of the Gods in the sky. Food was cooked and eaten as best as could be managed with the heavy rain. Eventually the storm died, but the hour grew late, so the tribe settled in, agreeing amongst themselves that they should wait until morning before moving out again.

When they came, the children were awake. The day’s efforts were wasted of them as they had eaten and promptly fell asleep exhausted, but now they were awake and restless. Slipping out from beneath the elder’s attention, the children scampered down the rocky hillside and back out into the great field. Some of the older boys still slept, but the rest of the children joined in on the games they played on the damp grass. The boys wrestled and struggled with one another in the mud, while the girls searched for flowers with which to gather; they kept their exuberance to a minimum as they did not wish to awaken the elders. They would have been scolded for their actions, as the elders would see them as reckless and dangerous. The lands were not well-known, and any number of dangerous creatures could be lurking about.

When they came, the boys had finished their game of dominance, and the girls had gathered what sparse flowers they could find. One of the younger boys came running towards the returning girls the moment they reappeared, to see what they had found. He had bested the other boys at their game quickly, and was excluded from the rest of the games because of his strength, so he viewed the returning girls as far more interesting than the squabbling boys. The younger girls shyly showed off what they had collected to him, and he studied the flowers with interest, smiling grandly as he did so.

When they came, the boy was looking at the last girl’s flowers, and he stayed by her side once he was finished.Together they hung back from the group of children heading back for the temporary camp set up, and they were pleased to be alone.

When they came, the children never noticed the approaching danger until it was too late. The shadows of their pursuers appeared as the first of the boys fell, struck down by forces unseen. The girls looked about frightened, while the boys shouted in surprise. A flash of lingering lightning showed off their attackers; impossibly tall figures, covered in flowing robes that could not be pierced by light. The children screamed as the figures dashed forward to collect their downed prey.

When they came, the boy saw them before the others. He was young, but clever enough to understand the ominous figures did not mean anything good for him or for his friends. The girl at his side clung to him, even as he pushed her down into the tall grass, hoping that she would go unnoticed. He shouted a warning just as the first boys fell, and felt something behind him immediately. He turned, awkwardly because he was careful to not hit the girl now lying prone and frightened beneath him. Looming over the two children was a lone figure, two arms stretched forward to grab the boy. The boy struck at the creature, swinging his fists wildly in a vain attempt to scare it off. The figure reared back momentarily, and the boy thought he had succeeded, until the figure’s robes shook, and something struck the boy in the chest. His senses failed him instantly and he toppled to the ground, falling atop the prone girl. She screamed as he did not move, and the creature reached down towards the boy once again. The girl clung to the boy’s body, refusing to let the creature take him away while she screamed for help. Help did not come, and the girl felt something pierce her neck, causing her to lose control of her body in the same way as the others. The looming figure leaned down and picked the boy up, then as if it were an afterthought, picked the girl up as well.

When they came, no child remained. There were no signs of a disturbance.

When they came, the adults slept.

-----------------------------------------

How much time had passed? An eternity it seemed to Fasul, his eyes listless as the expanse of space drifted by. There were questions, yet no answers within him, and he had long since became accustomed to the silence.

What force kept him tied to this life?

Everything that had once been gentle, was now deformed.

Where can the mind wander when it has been released? It meanders in purgatory, returning forcefully to the memories hidden within it's shadow. Thoughts buried will rise, old wounds reopened with a brutal force.

Fasul could see them, flashes of days long past. Tortured gaze, broken bodies, pleading eyes, dying gasps, and blood. The screams of those that could live no more, and wished not to leave this life as wisps of wind. Together their voices became a great cry of grief, such that one who listens shall weep unendingly.

But in time, the mind refocuses, the memories are plunged back into the deep and the pain is hidden for a little while.

A scowl twisted his face, and he turned from the observation deck, which overlooked the nearby planet of Obsilian, resting place of all Majal. A planet dedicated to death and grief, one that fit his mood perfectly, however greatly he may wish it didn't.

The crew of the ship (though the vessel be more of a city than a ship) were at ease for the first time in over a year. The Half-Breed's had discovered a planet inhabited by several base life-forms that they could feed on. The brutal slaughter of the entire species of creatures was enough to buy the Majal time to prepare a defensive strategy.

Fasul had no place within this floating city. He gave no will to fighting the Half-Breed threat, and instead spent his days wandering the city as a hollow being. There was no shortage of those that had lost everything at the start of the war, so his disposition was not something that stood out. Many walked with the same emotionless face. Those that still found the strength to weep and bemoan their fate, were different. They held onto the belief that there still existed a universe to weep for, while those like Fasul had understood long ago that there was no hope.

For thirty years the Majal had fled, mere blinks of an eye in the life span of a normal Majal, but those thirty years had been the longest span of time any had ever experienced.

Since that dark day when they emerged, the Half-Breed race, the Majal had taken up a lost cause. Containing the Half-Breed's proved an impossible task, yet one that needed to be taken regardless. Majal sacrificed themselves, fighting creatures that did not tire, did not weaken, and refused to relent. Perhaps cruelest of all, these Majal knowingly fought against those that they once knew, and maybe even loved. There could be no discrimination in the heat of battle, yet as they lay dying, waiting to be devoured, it could not be any less painful to know those that took their life, had once been their friend. A war of sadness, no matter the outcome. To fight is to die, to flee is to delay an inevitability that would only prove more disastrous for the universe.

As technologically prepared as the Majal had been, advanced weaponry proved inconsequential. The Half-Breed's possessed ships as powerful as the Majal, and could build the same weapons. Battles in space became stalemates, until the Half-Breed's superior numbers could be brought to bear, either destroying the Majal defenders, or forcing them to retreat, abandoning planets and creatures that would be destroyed by the Half-Breed. Any Majal forces unlucky enough to face the Half-Breeds in ground combat were decimated. The Half-Breeds, while genetically similar to the Majal, possessed incredible regenerative abilities, as well as greatly increased muscle density. They attacked with a savagery that even the most dedicated Majal soldiers could not match.

Fasul was no soldier, and had never encountered the Half-Breeds, aside from the night when they were born, as such he could not attest to the accounts of those that were lucky enough to return alive from a battle. There was little doubt however, on the Half-Breeds skills. For every battle the number of Majal returning would decrease, the corpses of those that had fallen, becoming vessels for the Half-Breeds use. The true terror of a war with the Half-Breeds was such that for every loss the Majal incurred, the Half-Breeds gained another soldier, through use of the Flood, their genetic forefathers.

Time has passed, and we are nothing. There are no leaders for our people, only self-appointed military officers, who believe they can device methods of stopping the Half-Breeds once and for all. Plans are devised, Majal are dispatched to fight, they die, their families mourn, talk of war recedes, and finally the process begins once more. How pitiful.

The artificial city, a world of steel and metal, it was the constant reminder of terror. Of the night when the universe became doomed, it's horrible screams would echo throughout it's halls for all eternity. Until the day the Half-Breeds finally tore down the walls of this artificial city, there could be no peace; how unjust that peace could only come from annihilation, and the dooming of a universe. Glorified city of steel death; it was their home, and their grave.

  • 12.25.2006 11:30 AM PDT
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“So dark, comes this day.”

The voice came from afar, and Fasul turned his head toward the noise, expecting to see an apparition from his past, yet instead found himself confronted by a demon of the present.

“Gan Ful,” Fasul spoke, his throat parched, not from thirst, but from disuse.

“You've wandered far today, have you been infected with the spirit of exploration?” the elder Majal asked.

Fasul did little to hide his disdain; Gan Ful was the Majal given charge of the prefect that Fasul inhabited, and he saw fit to hound the younger Majal and attempt to get him involved with the other Majal families living within their sector.

Once the city of steel was built, it became necessary to ensure a measure of order was kept within the population of civilians, which measured in the hundreds of thousands. While it was unheard of that any Majal might actually cause unrest within the civilian population, after the rise of the Half-Breeds nothing could be assumed any longer. Thus was the Thebian Guard born. Not a police force, they were more mayors of their small sectors of Majal, entrusted with passing on information from the self-appointed military leaders. Gathering volunteers for military exercises, or subjects needed for experiments conducted within the centre of the city, within the forty-fifth sector, where no unauthorized civilians were permitted.

Gan Ful was a zealot, obsessed with assisting the military leaders, who were dubbed “Lansink” the Majal term for righteous leaders; his time was spent suckling at the teat of those in higher positions than him, wishing and dreaming of the day that the Majal would crush the Half-Breeds. His delusion however, was borne from his own mind, a way of escaping the reality that was in stark contrast to the lies his mind created. The Lansink did nothing to perpetuate those erroneous thoughts, in fact they never proclaimed anything. They were tight-lipped, unwilling to divulge even the most basic information.

“What else is there to do, than to wander about this hollow world?” Fasul responded.

“You should come with me one of these days,” Gan Ful went on, proposing the thought, for what was likely the thousandth time.
“I have no desire to consort with those that dwell near the forty-fifth sector,” Fasul declined, for the thousandth time, “There is little I would concern myself with that might be spoken of.”

“Better to dwell there, than to walk alone,” Gan Ful returned, “Days spent in these deserted sections, with nothing but the ruminating thoughts within your mind to accompany you, will drive you to even further seclusion.”

“I have spent these past thirty years alone, what is one more day?” Fasul scoffed.

“What is one more second?” Gan Ful shot back, “It is an eternity! We cannot afford such thinking, Fasul. Our people are teetering upon the brink of oblivion. One misstep will mean dooming the entire universe. Determination is what will see our perseverance.”

“Determination?” Fasul asked scathingly, “That is what will right all the wrongs of this universe? I knew you to be naive Gan Ful, but I had thought you to be above blatant stupidity. Regurgitating such an overused cliché, you disgust me! Were we not determined when we lived upon our home world? Did we lack the sense of mind to prevent our beloved families from perishing on that day? You may keep your determination, you naive fool, I will have nothing to do with it.”

His retort delivered, and mildly astonished over the emotion he had summoned, Fasul turned away from Gan Ful.

“I am indeed naive,” Gan Ful spoke after a short pause, “I believe in possibilities that are impossible, but who are you to tell me that I am wrong? You, who have shunned his own kind for the past thirty years and become a hermit, shrugging away from the kind hand offered to you. Is your way of living, any better than my own? I have accepted this new life we are forced to live, and I do not shy away from the truth of our circumstances.”

Fasul's back remained stoic, and he acted as if Gan Ful had already left. The other Majal shook his head and sighed deeply, expelling the breath as if he were removing every last impurity from his body.

“When we arrive at our next destination tomorrow, I ask that you visit the forty-fifth sector. The Lansink will announce where we have docked this ship you find so inhabitable. If you have any desire to heal yourself, you will come. If not, then I will finally accept your intention to stay here, trapped in the past, becoming nothing more than a memory of our darkest time.”

“Leave me,” Fasul said dispassionately, resuming his solitary journey through the ship.

“YOU SILLY -blam!-!”

The triumphant roar struck Fasul, and he tumbled to the deck. As he reoriented himself, he turned to see Gan Ful staring at him with eyes that burned as if they were a thousand coals of fiery fire.

“Fickle Fasul falling forever from friendship,” Gan Ful alliterated. “You turn down my request? Even when I'm being so generous! How rude!”

“Gan Ful? What are you doing?” Fasul asked, frightened, like the little girl he really was.

“You are so depressing! When you walk by my home I feel as if you've dragged the weight of the universe passed my window! That really kills my mood you know? Don't be such a downer you bastard.”

“I've lost everything in my life, what more can I do?” Fasul wept, crocodile tears streaming from his eyes.

“Is the baby crying now!?” Gan Ful demanded. He reached behind his back and pulled a large dagger from nowhere, which is just left from somewhere.

“There, you're such an emo whiny girl, that you should just kill yourself!” He shouted, thrusting the dagger to Fasul, who accepted it and in one smooth motion plunged it into his chest. The blade pierced his heart, and he died in an instant, but his soul was strong enough that his emo feelings refused to let go, even in death. Thus, his spirit transformed into an artificial life form, because that was the closest thing to making sense at the moment. Or maybe the furthest.

“I didn't expect that,” Gan Ful admitted, staring at Fasul's crumpled dead body, and his new form as an A.I entity.

“Same,” Fasul said. The two Majal stared at one another before shrugging, then both went their separate ways.

That was the way the universe ended, with a really stupid ending that nobody liked.


-----------------------------------------

....psych!

Haha, sorry, I just had to mess with you guys one last time before I finally end this story. I really wanted to do a fake chapter back on last April Fools, but I didn't have the time. The next best thing is a fake present on Christmas Day!

I'll post the real chapter when my Holiday fun ends, until then, I hope you decided to laugh instead of getting mad. I know I did.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!

  • 12.25.2006 11:31 AM PDT
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Merry -blam!- Christmas!!

I love you man

  • 12.25.2006 11:53 AM PDT
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Ahh Chirst man that was messed up.

Still love ya tho, for at least giving me some entertainment on this rainy christmas

[Edited on 12/25/2006]

  • 12.25.2006 12:05 PM PDT
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you little -blam!-! lol good job

  • 12.25.2006 1:06 PM PDT
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Why do we bother?

  • 12.25.2006 1:11 PM PDT

Official Town Drunk of Sandwichia. Nation of the Flood.
MBT - Impossible Just Happened
* How is it that "Fat Chance" and "Slim Chance" mean the same thing?
* If you choke a Smurf, what color will it turn?

XBOX User Space profile

burnzorz???


lolzord???

  • 12.25.2006 1:42 PM PDT
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wow,that story got me interested and then when i read the end i realized that i waited months for that?you are still a great writer mr.clark and you keep me interested in the story.and whats with "emo whiny girl" in the story,anyways merry christmas clark

  • 12.25.2006 2:13 PM PDT
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I will always place the mission first.
I will never accept defeat.
I will never quit.
I will never leave a fallen comrade.

lol wow Mr. Clark you fooled all of us you silly -blam!-

anyway Merry Christmas everyone

[Edited on 12/25/2006]

  • 12.25.2006 3:00 PM PDT

Posted by: LIME31
I got his sarcasm...one person has to implement sarcasm and then you get a pile of terrorist chipmunks crashing your party, not fun at all..

I thought something was wrong toward the end. Forerunners can't become emo. Everyone knows that emo's were created when goths sided with the grunts in the secret grunt invasion of our moon.

  • 12.25.2006 5:07 PM PDT
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whats with the emo -blam!-? are you making fun of me?

  • 12.25.2006 9:14 PM PDT
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im actually kinda pissed now. not even gonnna lie bout it...

  • 12.26.2006 2:24 PM PDT
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lol very nice Clark.

I was like....wtf?! I'll admit I was ready for a big sit down chapter, but it made me laugh no doubt. Well played Clark =D

  • 12.26.2006 5:57 PM PDT
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I agree with kokiri. Very well played, Monsieur Clark.

  • 12.26.2006 6:01 PM PDT

Phoenix is dead, long live Phoenix!
Is it?

Posted by: Asmodeus
Why do we bother?


I really don't know.

Posted by: thunder_bolt
whats with the emo -blam!-? are you making fun of me?


Probably.

  • 12.26.2006 10:28 PM PDT
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Posted by: C0unt Crakkula
im actually kinda pissed now. not even gonnna lie bout it...


I think i agree, but what irritates me even more is that people are being rather hypocritic; i.e. a few weeks back they were rather put out with clark, but now after he posted his........early april fool, evry1 is really pleased and is back to licking his boots - that just irritates me.

I'm afraid Clark that an analogy of you is the Clark shotgun on BF2142, Short range and short time between posts = brilliant, long range and long time between posts = major frustration.

I could be really cheeky now and say that the above is constuctive critisism, but that might be going a tad too far.

A lot of people might hate me now 4 calling them hypocrits, but then again i suppose that you just have to decide on whether or not that applies to you (and lets face it you've probably been called worse).

  • 12.27.2006 2:12 AM PDT
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Although I have attempted to remain objective, and more often than not, silent on what has happened in this forum, I feel I must respond to Asmodeus's comments...

I couldn't agree more with your hypocrit accusations. I would first off like to say that you should never be afraid nor feel regret for saying something you believe. People need to grow up and start being able to take criticism and stop living in the "holding hands" world where if you say something that hurts someones feelings, you are snubbed by all. I have a high respect for someone who can speak their mind in the face of great adversity and still hold their chin high so long as their intentions are noble. So to you Asmodeus I say very well put.

And just to comment on the return of Mr. Clark, whom I have waited patiently for...

Mr. Clark, it pleases me to see that you are in good spirits and great enough of a mood to feel you can still mess with our heads while we wait for the ultimate chapter. My only adverse feelings would be that I realize now I have forgotten much of the story in detail and will probably have to go back and read it all over again. However, I am greatly pleased to see that I will be concluding this long awaited journey soon enough. Amazing work sir and much respect to you.

[Edited on 12/27/2006]

  • 12.27.2006 5:13 AM PDT
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Did I kill Christmas?

..... :(

  • 12.27.2006 7:48 PM PDT
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No, you didn't. Just made it a bit of a cliffhanger.

Are we going to see the chapter posted here first or on your FanFic.net archive?

  • 12.27.2006 9:47 PM PDT
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Here first. I'll do my typical posting the story here, along with a link to the fanfiction.net version at the start of the post.

Which I should be doing soon, I'm still suffering from holiday working hours (seven shifts in a row..sob..), and the chapter is annoyingly split up into about thirty different files.

Ever since I switched over to Macs, I've been dallying about, looking for the perfect writing program. I started with Word for Mac, but it was cumbersome, so I spent the next few months sampling a metric tonne of other programs, resulting in my writing being disjointed, so I've got to put it all back together like a big wordy puzzle.

That is actually how that fake chapter got posted, its actually a small bit of the start of the actual chapter, but after I'd gotten that little bit fixed and formatted, I was so annoyed I gave up, and made that last bit up in about thirty seconds.

So there you go, blame Apple, and Microsoft for making Microsoft Word not cool for Macs.

  • 12.27.2006 10:36 PM PDT
Subject: Next chapter = next year

Phoenix is dead, long live Phoenix!
Is it?

I thought that the first post was proper.

As to spoiling Christmas. Nope. I didn't read it until two days later.

But that was really unfair.

Is it me or are the ones blaming the hypocrites being slightly hypocritical?

  • 12.27.2006 10:53 PM PDT

Posted by: MLG Cheehwawa
Posted by: A Fatal Sock
PPL DONT DRIVE TANKS
What do we do? Hump them?


You can believe anything you want. The universe is not obliged to keep a straight face

Posted by: Master Kim
I'd love harming my enemies to death with butt strokes. XD

Clark..that was slightly mean... I mean, it starts off pretty good..then it degenerates into emo stabbings..I kinda liked that, lol.

  • 12.28.2006 8:14 AM PDT
Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War
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Dude you're an awesome writer, When I read the chapter I was like

This is BLAM awesome.

If you have like good grades in english class, I wouldn't be surprised after reading this.

  • 12.28.2006 9:02 AM PDT