- Sergeant Murph
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- Noble Legendary Member
If they had, they certainly weren’t anticipating it any time soon. “Now!” he roared, whipping around and throwing himself upon an invisibly cloaked Brute. The stalker cursed and fired his Mauler, but to no avail, as Reth had already grappled him. The bullet screamed out of sight.
Burns made the next move, pivoting around and firing a single burst of his Battle Rifle into what would have been thin air to the naked and unknowing eye. The Brute cried in pain, and for a moment he was uncloaked and unarmed, planted stupidly in the middle of the street. Anderson placed a Shotgun bullet in his skull, and the cowardly attacker crumpled to the street.
I whipped out my Battle Blade and shuffled around, waiting anxiously for my attacker. I concentrated hard on finding the flicker of movement, but couldn’t pick out the Brute that I supposed was the last, as no others made their move.
Hot breath seeped down my neck, and I could feel angry eyes on me. Before I could react, my attacker brought his Mauler—blade and all—across my face. I dodged with incredible speed that no human could match, but the blade still caught my cheek. I cried out in pain as fresh blood pumped out of the side of my partly sliced open face. Fueled by rage, I swung erratically, hoping to slice off the Brute’s animal head. The quick movement only brought more pain to my face, and I dropped my sword and covered it with both hands, trying my best to stop the flow of my blood.
“Sol!” three voices yelled at once. Reth charged forward, but the now uncloaked Brute—readied in black steel armor and peculiar vision goggles—let loose a torrent of rounds on him. He fell to one knee and his shield generator flickered, temporarily offline.
Burns and Anderson both lunged at him, but the stalker was too strong, and shook them off like they were insects. He laughed at our mediocre efforts.
“Noble as you think you are,” he mused, “know how stupid your loyalty turned out in the end.”
He held the Mauler to my wounded cheek, taking his time to taunt me. I sucked in a breath, determined to hide my searing pain.
“You know nothing of honor,” Reth huffed, clutching the small bullet wounds in his chest. “Mongrel like you know only to destroy and to hate. Know how stupid your wit will cost you in the end,” the Elite threw back.
He barked a laugh. “I think I’ll kill him quickly.” He nodded at me, on my knees and at his mercy. “But I’ll make your death a slow one. I’ll cut you down, limb from limb…”
I could tell by the malice locked in his voice that he would have done that, two, had the devil not spoken out to him.
“Stop, incompetent fool!” a raspy, faraway voice screeched. It had come from the Brute’s helmet.
I saw his face turn from a darker shade of grey to pure white. He immediately drew away from me, eyes aflame with horror and confusion.
“Don not kill him!” the voice boomed again. Startled, the Brute stumbled backward and nearly lost his feet.
I’d heard that awful, hoarse voice before. It’s bearer outmatched evil itself. The five of us—Me, Reth, Anderson, Burns and the Brute—were lapsed in silence. It had been eight years since I’d seen the Prophet of Truth. I’d heard the voice on High Charity when the Sangheili was blamed for the death of Regret, but he sounded so different. There was a madness in his voice that—believe it or not—hadn’t been there before. Hatred leaked from his very soul, paralyzing the Brute with unimaginable fear.
“Back away from the boy,” he ordered, softer and more contained this time. It took me a moment to register: I was the boy!
Sourly, the Brute Stalker lowered his weapon and took three steps backward, half scared and half confused. I felt a touch of sympathy for him, torn between lust and demand. But then I remembered the innocent faces of those who had been damned by his kind. He was a monster, and nothing would ever change that.
“Despicable!” the Prophet accused, suddenly angry. He’d changed from calm to explosive in a matter of seconds. “You were given strict orders, and yet you disobey me!”
The Brute shook uneasily. Reth had already struggled to his feet, brushing off the last of his bloodstained armor. Anderson and Burns rolled to their feet and groaned as they stood up, regaining their breath.
“You know what you must do,” Truth pressed on. “For the good of our holy Covenant.”
The Brute nodded and closed his eyes. I could see that he was longing to wail into the sky, but somehow contained himself. Reth scowled and pulled the long silver rod from his back and activated it. The tip of the stave glimmered with electricity, looking to impale its prey through the stomach.
With malicious speed, the Elite that I’d known and hated for so long burst upward and darted toward the Brute, legs tearing the ground.
A single, squeaky blast of the Brute’s close ranged weapon went off. I swung around to see Reth standing over the body of the Brute, confounded.
“He…he killed himself,” Reth noted. I had to twist my head to see the limp body of the Brute, arms outstretched with a fresh bullet hole in his skull.
I wrestled myself to stand up and come closer to the body. A final message came through his earpiece. It was a message that he’d never hear.
“May the gods take pity on you, my arrogant brother.”
The line went dead with static.
Anderson shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t he kill us? Why would they give him orders to keep us alive?”
Burns and I shrugged uneasily, but Reth hung his head low and cast me a dark glance. “They didn’t want to keep us alive,” he bellowed. “We’re the puppets. We don’t matter to the Prophet.” He turned away, shaking his head. “They want Sol. This Brute,” he continued, prodding the lifeless body with his toe, “was given orders to take Sol and to kill the rest of us.”
“Why Sol?” Anderson challenged.
Reth shook his head again. “I know not of their plans,” he put simply, keeping his eyes locked on the ground. He walked away, and we soon followed after him.
I waited an extra second, rooted to the spot. My cheek was on fire and still dripping with blood, but I had more important things on my mind then the excruciating pain that plagued my face. The Brute that lay dead in front of me had submitted himself to death at his own hands because he’d attempted to do what he did best—kill. But why? Why was I suddenly an exception to the rest?
If I was positive about one thing, it was that Reth was hiding something. He knew more than I did about me. Once again, someone had lied through their teeth, straight to my face. I felt deceived and stupid.
“You coming Sol?” Anderson called. I nodded and gulped, taking one last look at the Brute that had taken his life because of me. Normally I’d have been celebrating that we had rid the world one less of these beasts, but now was different. It was all too much to handle.
Janerus hadn’t killed me either. But…
I was given strict orders from the Prophet himself not to kill you.
Even then, blinded by confusion, I sensed something terrible was coming. Maybe if I had reacted to my prediction, the next few hours wouldn’t have turned into such a bloodbath.