-NOTICE-

Jus in case any of my followers are confused, This story was originally made up of several small chapters, but I have combined the smaller chapters into larger ones (with some editing of the chapters themselves).

"I was their instrument of fear.

My boundless strength, their sword
My ignorance, their shield
My righteousness, abhorred
My kindly heart, congealed

But now my ears make no mistake
My eyes see through their pious farce

My words shall be the stones to break
Their Covenant of Glass."

Chapter 1: Remnants of the Past

Old Russia was nothing now.

An empty shell of its former self, a barren wasteland of rust and snow.
Everywhere lay the reddish-brown carcasses of vehicles and machinery from a time long ago.
Weeds sprung out in patches, and the chrome sparkle of fresh spinmetal peeked shyly out from the darkest of corners.
The morning sun was climbing over the icy horizon, casting a spell of light that spread across the frozen ground and trickled into the dark entrances of the time-worn catacombs.

A lone Vandal scout was treading through the silent wreckage. His shock rifle sat nervously in his spindly hands, and his bony claw of a finger lay just a hair shy of the trigger.
Only the muffled noise of inhuman footsteps trudging cautiously through the snow and the soft howling of the wind through the sparsely-growing trees could be heard.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance.

The Vandal stopped in his tracks.
He lashed his whole body around and raised his rifle in the direction of the sound, his blood-red cape oscillating in the breeze and his bright blue eyes narrowing.
Nothing moved.
After a few seconds of uncertainty, he lowered his rifle slightly, not entirely satisfied that he was alone.
He took a tentative step forward.

BLAM!

The Vandal was dead before he knew what hit him.

The clank of bullet against cranium echoed out across the ice, complimented by the crack of a fragmented skull thudding into the snow.
A bloody spray of bright-blue mist erupted from the now headless neck as a corpse collapsed forward onto the ground.

The wind whistled solemnly through the clouds.

He exhaled and turned his head away from the scope,
his breath coming out as a cloud of frosty mist.
He had been out here, alone, for what seemed like months. There wasn't a lot to eat, it was freezing cold and there was hardly any shelter that wasn't already occupied.

By them.

The Bandits. The beings that challenged his will to live every day and made him wonder how long he wanted to carry on struggling for.
The crash a few weeks prior had injured him severely, maybe permanently. His back ached and his legs were numb from the cold, and his stripped-back armor revealed a myriad of cuts and shrapnel wounds.

He was weak.
They were everywhere.

No matter how many he killed, there were always more of them.
Always.
But he was as much of a threat to their existence as they were to his.
He had carved a tally into the wall, of all the ones he had killed.
He didn't even have enough space to mark it all down.

Suddenly, in the corner of his vision, he saw movement in the distance.
He quickly looked through the scope.
After some swivelling, he spotted what he had seen.
It was a small, white, polyhedral object, hard to make out against the background of snow and ice.
It floated a few feet off the ground, and drifted slowly across his field of view.
A dim blue glow shone from the thing's center, and a wireframe sheet of holographic light suddenly began to sweep across the ground in front of it.
It carried on moving until it came to a stop next to the rusted shell of a car, where it seemed to linger for a moment.
The small floating object disappeared.
Like a ghost.

He focused his aim on the spot where it had been and inhaled.

"I've finally found you! You've been dead for a long time, so... you're going see a lot of things you won't understand." a voice in her head said enthusiastically.

"W-what?" she said hoarsely, unused to the sound of her own voice. She stood up slowly and brushed some snow off her shoulders.
"Who are you?"

"I'm a Ghost." the voice replied. "Well... I guess I'm your Ghost now."

"What does that mean? What is this place?"

"Light Records tell me you're Mae F. Walker, used to be a commander in the 1st Guardian Order. You're a... high-ranking Warlock. Old Russia? Does that ring any bells?"
Her expression was one of blank confusion.
"...Not really."

"Hmm. That might be a problem. You don't seem to have remembered much. At least you haven't forgotten how to speak. Speaking of remembering... you remember that, don't you?"

Walker turned.
Miles away, sitting between the fluffy clouds, was a gargantuan silvery-grey sphere that dominated the skyline. It hovered only just above the rocky ground, but it cast no shadow. It was glowing ever so slightly, further establishing itself in her view. A feeling of power emanated from it, hitting her like a tidal wave. It wasn't sinister... it felt rather warm and it seemed to welcome her curious gaze.

"I... I don't know. It kind of seems familiar..." she began to say.

"Actually... scrap that, it can wait till later. We've got to get out of here as soon as possible. They'll be onto us any minute now."

"Who?"

"You'll see. Just remember: no-one, and I mean no-one out here is gonna be very friendly with the likes of you. Anyone who isn't you is a threat. You see, you shoot. Comprende?"

"I'll take your word for it." Walker replied. "I'm not exactly in any position to be making decisions for the time being.
You've got a lot of explaining to do."

The female's head was between his crosshairs.
She appeared unarmed, but he wasn't taking any chances.

She had short, straight chestnut-brown hair that hung just above her shoulders, and extremely piercing green eyes. She was small in stature; a greyish tight-fitting suit clung to her petite figure and a piece of white cloth was wrapped around her arm.
She had been talking to herself for the past minute, but he couldn't make out what she was saying.
But what if she wasn't an enemy?

What if she knew a way out of here?

He breathed hard.
Should he stay hidden?
She didn't look like all that much, but she was the first seemingly respectable creature he had seen in weeks. It could be risky.
Just before he had made his decision, she broke into a jog.

He would have to catch up to her.

He stood up slowly from his crouched position and slung the sniper rifle over his shoulder. His elongated spine painfully cracked into place as his armor automatically began to seal around him, and his visor hissed as it clamped down over his face. He vaulted over the the railing of the rusted balcony where he had been sitting, plummeted a few yards and landed with a thud on the snowy ground below.

He began to run.

"Quick, in there!" the voice in Walker's head directed her as she jogged.

She began to speed up. She darted over the threshold of a dilapidated entrance to a huge, metallic building; it could have passed for an old warehouse, or factory. A long, dimly lit corridor stretched far out in front of her, and at the end it opened into complete darkness.

"Weapon, 9 o'clock! Grab it and let's get going!"

She skidded to a halt. The weapon was an 8-shooter, a fat, sluggishly powerful revolver designated as the Maverick Mk.32. It was lodged firmly in the rusted wire mesh of a fence that cordoned off another branch out from the main corridor. Walker clasped it by the handle and yanked it out.

"I hope you still remember how to fight, Guardian." the little voice said tersely as she neared the end of the corridor.

"We'll have to wait and see." was her uncertain response.

Suddenly, a rusty ceiling panel swung open and a slender figure dropped onto the floor. It reared up its ugly red helmet and gazed at her with mad blue eyes, and immediately broke into a frenzied sprint. It wielded electrified daggers in both of its spindly hands, and it let loose a maddeningly ear-piercing howl of pure hysteria as it advanced.

Kabam!

The Dreg's helmeted head disconnected from the rest of its body to the tune of hissing gas and spraying blood. It clanged noisily onto the ground and the rest of its brainless cadaver toppled forwards into a heap.
Walker lowered her weapon, a wisp of smoke trailing out of the barrel.

"Or… maybe we won't have to wait and see." Her Ghost said with a hint of exasperation in its synthetic voice.

He kept to the shadows.

Showing himself all of a sudden would ruin his chances of ever getting out of here. She would either run away in fear, or try to engage him.
If that happened, then he would have no choice but to neutralize her.
She seemed to know where she was going, so he had decided to tail her. He wouldn't show himself until the last minute, when his enemies were out of range.
If he was at full strength, he would have simply got the information he needed and then he would have destroyed her.
But as much as he was against it, he needed an ally.

Sangheili or not.

"We aren't safe yet. They thrive in the dark... so they've got the upper hand right now. Stay here, I'll see what I can do."

Ghost silently materialized in the air about a stone's throw away, in the middle of the pitch-black space. He hovered up into the air, and trail of soft blue light followed him.

"I've found something! Yes! This'll get the lights on."

The sound of huge cranking and whirring gears rang out into the darkness, and a pair of feeble lights flickered in the distance.
Then another pair.
And another.
Soon, the whole room was illuminated in a dim yellow glow. It was a lengthy atrium with a slanted roof, with walls of huge, patchy metal panels that were flaking with rust.
Railed catwalks floored with iron grills ran across either side, and below lay an fatally deep abyss of metallic junk and hardened rubble.

"What is this place? Where are we exactly?" Walker queried her tiny companion as he drifted back to her.

"We haven't got time for explanations." He replied before disappearing back into her head. "Let's move on."

"Forget moving on, Mister. You can't keep me in the dark completely." she chided adamantly.

"Psshh. Fine. But if we run into trouble, it's on you, okay?" was Ghost's reluctant response. "This is The Breach. Back when people were still around, this used to be part of an oil refinery, you know, for fuel. But fossil fuels died out a long time ago. The whole damned place got overrun by the Fallen when they first arrived; they've been camping out here for decades."

"The Fallen? That's what these things are? The name... I recognize it."

"Good. Looks like your mind wasn't really gone after all. Guardians like you have been on missions here for years and years, to try and take it back and establish some non-Fallen presence. You were probably one of them."

"Then... why haven't they succeeded? These guys aren't that tough."

"It's not the strength that's the problem, it's the...-"

Ghost's explanation was cut off by the sound of a swarm of 4 dozen dark-red rotor-propelled drones smashing through a wall panel. They were blinking with menacing yellow lights, their chasses crackling with electricity, and their rotors hummed angrily at their sides.
They began flying straight towards her.

"-...number."

He was hiding behind the corner of the corridor's exit.

He had heard her talking to something, and it was talking back. The voice had been disembodied and slightly robotic, but then after a while it was gone, and she was talking to herself again.
She was out on the catwalk with her weapon drawn, but she was in a relaxed stance. She had stopped, but he was growing impatient.
When was she going to move again?

Just when he was about to reach the end of his tether, a cloud of flying enemies had loudly burst into the room from somewhere.
They were surrounding her now, moving like a noisy cloud of angry bees.
Would they kill her?
He couldn't risk that. He needed a way out.

But just before he sprang around the corner, he changed his mind. This would be a way of testing his potential ally's ability. If it got too bad, he could always intervene. If the female managed to survive the ordeal, then he would be more willing to present himself to her.
He peeked around the corner and put a four-fingered hand to his half-expended Plasma Pistol just in case things got out of hand.

"Shanks!" Ghost exclaimed. "Get out of there!"

Walker began to run forwards but was met by a huge barrage of droplets of blue energy which stung her skin and knocked her backwards.
She grunted in pain and slapped her hand to her Mk. 32, and agilely spun it from the trigger-guard into her ready hand.
She raised it and fired.

Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!

She took six shots and six Shanks fell into the abyss in a fit of sparks and noise.

Blam! Blam!

Another two crashed onto the catwalk.

She slammed in another speedloaded set of huge bullets and fired them all off in quick succession, taking down yet another eight Shanks. But they were still coming closer and still firing. She was barely dodging their blasts and her relatively weak shock-absorbing battlesuit was going into overload.
Her brown hair lashed around with her body as she fired off another eight.

"That isn't going to work! Use your Light!" Ghost shouted in her head.

Walker didn't understand what he meant, but her body moved instinctively anyway, like she had done this many times before. She raised her left hand and narrowed her green eyes in determination.
A huge burst of visible force shot from her open palm and knocked back a large clump of Shanks, sending them crashing into the wall behind.

She spun on her heels and let loose another blast.

"Snipers! 3 o'clock, other end of the hall!"

Two Vandals were standing on a catwalk with Wire Rifles raised and trained steadily on her.
"Shit!" she cried as she struggled still to beat back the group of Shanks.

That confirmed it.

She was an able fighter, but right now she was being overwhelmed.
It was time for him to step in.
He strutted purposefully around the corner and drew his Plasma Pistol.
He pulled the trigger.

And held it.

A ball of fluctuating green energy formed at the end of his weapon, and it grew in size the more he held the trigger.
He walked forwards still.
The weapon was now vibrating violently in his hand and was buzzed loudly. He stopped and adopted a balanced stance as he raised it to eye level.

He let go.

The Shanks in front of her seized up in what appeared to be a spasm of green electricity and clattered onto the catwalk, clearly out of commission.
She was confused for a second, but snapped out of it as a bright blue Wire Rifle bolt soared past her head.
It carried on and ricocheted off the catwalk railing behind her with a twanging sound.
And punched straight through the bolt that was holding up the grill below her.
The section of catwalk sank about a yard and then broke off completely.
Walker stood on air for a second, and then started to plummet into the abyss, only managing to clasp the edge of the grill as her hand shot out in front of her. She swung briefly, her legs dangling above the deadly drop below.

"Hold on, Walker, try to pull yourself up!" Ghost was yelling frantically at her.

Crack! Crack!

Rifle fire blasted overhead. In the distance two Vandal helmets shattered and they squawked in pain, and she heard their bony bodies clatter onto the ground.
Something grabbed Walker's desperately clinging arm and yanked it upwards.
She rolled over onto her knees on the catwalk and looked up.

Towering above her was a huge, armored beast of a creature, with one grey and four-fingered hand brandishing a heavy sniper rifle and the other outstretched in her direction.
She stood up slowly and took in its full appearance.

It was covered in white-colored armor plating that was sealed together with some sort of dynamic rubber-like black material.
On its head, there was a dark blue visor that was clamped down over its whole face, and small greenish lights were placed symmetrically on various parts of its body.
Though it was immensely tall and had long, disfigured-looking limbs that had muscle packed onto them, the way it was standing was suggestive of some hidden human-like quality.
But this was no human.
Walker brought her hand slowly to her hand-cannon as she stood up. In a flash, she drew it and pointed it at the being's head.

"Who are you?!" she demanded forcibly and bared her teeth slightly. "What do you want?!"

"There is no need for that, klaka." came its calm response. It had a deep, masculine growl of a voice, but you could tell it wasn't speaking its first language. "I just saved your life, did I not?"

"Doesn't mean I can trust you!" Walker still had her guard up.

"Walker... I've scanned him. He isn't Fallen. Or Hive, or Cabal... or Vex. He's something else." Ghost informed her promptly.

"But remember what you said? No-one out here is a friendly."

"Well, you can forget that. You almost died back there! The Fallen are more powerful than I expected... they're stronger than before. With him we at least stand a chance."

"We know nothing about him!"

"And he knows nothing about us. It's a risk any Guardian should be willing to take."

Walker hissed as she reluctantly lowered the Mk. 32 and holstered it, but her twitchy hand remained on its handle.
She looked up at the beast in front of her adamantly.

"So who are you, exactly?" she asked interrogatively.

"I am Tel 'Voruun, son of Sangheilios and loyal Ranger of the 5th Covenant Battalion." he said elaborately; but not a hint of pride could be detected in his gruff voice.

"Mae Walker. Former Warlock commander in the 1st Guardian Order. Apparently."

"Hey, why don't you just trust me for once!?" Ghost asked, saddened at her disbelief.
"I was kidding, Ghost."

"Who is this you speak to, when I hear nothing?" Tel asked, still unaware of Ghost's existence. "Is it an ally?"

Ghost materialized just above Walker's shoulder, like a parrot resting on a pirate.

"That's me!"

"And he is the one that is guiding you to your exit?"

"You need our help, don't you?" Walker said knowingly. "You're lost."

"For the sake of my honor, no, I am not lost."
"And if not for the sake of your honor?"

"Then I have absolutely no idea where I am going."

New OCs in this chapter:

Mae Walker (iLarryyy)
Tel 'Voruun (iLarryyy)