High Charity had a diameter of about 350 kilometers and resembled a colossal mushroom. Originally, it was a Forerunner dreadnought, but over thousands of years of modifications and upgrades, it had evolved into a massive celestial-class space station.
Beneath its dome, High Charity housed a sprawling metropolis capable of sheltering billions of Covenant citizens. The environmental conditions within the main area were similar to Earth's surface, with gravity at about 0.95G, atmospheric pressure of 1.03, and temperatures maintained between 10°C and 25°C.
Aside from the Grunts, who required a methane-based atmosphere to breathe, the vast majority of Covenant species—and even humans—could move freely within High Charity without the need for protective suits or breathing masks.
This made it the political, economic, trade, and cultural center of the Covenant Empire.
The Sangheili, who established the Covenant, were the first to activate High Charity. During the ancient Human-Forerunner War, they were allies of ancient humanity. However, after the Forerunners activated the Halo Array, the reborn Sangheili had long forgotten their ancient history.
Today, the Sangheili, blinded by power and unscrupulous in their methods, had become corrupt and manipulative, ruling the Covenant Empire under the guise of the "Prophets" who claimed to lead their people on a so-called "Great Journey" by exploiting Forerunner relics and technology.
At this moment.
In the bridge of the Sanctum of Light, a CCS-class battlecruiser serving as Xiandel's flagship:
"Hmph."
Standing beside the control console, Leman observed the external view through the holographic screen. Stroking his scruffy beard, he remarked, "That mushroom may not be as large as a Reaper mothership, but the fleet defending it... now that's something to behold."
"Indeed, it is," replied Angron, who had his arms crossed over his chest plate, a look of concern on his face. "Even though the company controls travel-class dreadnoughts, if we were to engage in open battle, we still wouldn't have a decisive advantage."
"CSO-class..." Fulgrim, using the console's real-time feed, focused on a massive vessel marked as a CSO-class supercarrier among the Covenant fleet.
On the screen, the automatic scanning function highlighted nearly a hundred CSO-class carriers with red circles.
The key data points displayed alongside the screen, such as "Length: ~30km" and "Width: ~12km (at the widest point)," made Fulgrim's expression grow even more serious.
Half a year ago, through Xiandel, they had already gathered intelligence on the Covenant's main fleet.
The pride of the Covenant fleet was, without a doubt, the CSO-class supercarrier.
At thirty kilometers long, it could easily accommodate four Atlas-built Carthage and New Era carriers, and its ground deployment capabilities dwarfed those of human carriers.
In front of them were nearly a hundred such vessels, serving as the flagships of thousands of warships, all forming the defensive perimeter around High Charity.
When Fulgrim saw the sheer scale of this fleet as they emerged from slipspace, he pondered whether the company could ever match such power.
No matter the scenario, the outcome was always the same: defeat.
Even though Atlas had developed multiple universes, when analyzing logistics, resources, and population, the Covenant, which controlled half the galaxy, was an overwhelming force.
Thus, they had to follow Father's plan—to incite civil strife within this vast religious empire before humanity made first contact with the Covenant.
"Everyone!"
Seated in the captain's chair, Xiandel addressed the three Primarchs in fluent human language, though with a thick Elite accent:
"That mushroom ahead... ahem, is the Covenant Empire's mobile capital, High Charity.
Though it may appear cumbersome and bloated, its normal cruising speed far surpasses that of my flagship, the Sanctum of Light, and its slipspace travel speed is roughly three times faster than a standard ship."
Xiandel transmitted the "approach" command to the helmsman through the holographic panel at his right hand before continuing:
"Moreover, under the rule of the Prophets' lies, all Covenant members regard it as a sacred domain, the starting point of the Great Journey, a place blessed by the gods.
But! With my lord's leadership, we will expose the truth."
"Captain Rostaze," Fulgrim interrupted, his expression solemn as he reminded Xiandel, "from here on, you must control your emotions and avoid revealing any open hostility toward the Prophets."
"Hahaha! Don't worry, don't worry," Xiandel laughed heartily, assuring Fulgrim, "If I disrupt my lord's plan, I wouldn't forgive myself! Besides, this concerns the honor of my people, so I'll be doubly cautious."
"Good, just a friendly reminder." Fulgrim nodded lightly.
As Fulgrim watched through the holographic screen, noticing that they were about to enter the firepower range of the Covenant defense fleet, he and Angron, along with Leman, exited the bridge.
Fulgrim spoke as they walked: "Captain Rostaze, from here, it's up to you to handle the Covenant's interrogation.
If anything goes wrong, notify us immediately. The three of us will do whatever it takes to break into High Charity and rescue you.
Remember, from the moment you swore loyalty to our Father, you and your people became our kin."
Hearing this, Xiandel patted his golden chest plate proudly and said, "Thank you for your kindness. But don't let the size of my fleet fool you—I've got connections! The routine checks will go smoothly, no doubt!"
Seeing Xiandel's confidence, Fulgrim said nothing more and stepped out of the bridge.
As Angron passed the captain's chair, he nodded with a smile at Xiandel.
But Leman...
"Hey, don't forget, if you get the chance, bring me some of that good wine from your homeworld!" Leman's only request seemed completely unrelated to their mission.
"Of course, my friend!"
Xiandel responded eagerly.
During his time studying language with Melissa at the core base, Leman would visit the Elites' barracks whenever he had the chance to spar and drink with them.
Over time, Leman—despite seeming the least diplomatic of all the Primarchs—had formed the closest bonds with the Elites stationed on Shield World 0459.
In fact, Xiandel, who had been bested by Leman in a duel, regarded him as a close friend.
After all, in Elite culture, the stronger you are, the more you respect honor and martial prowess, and the more likely you are to earn their trust and admiration.
At this point.
After the three Primarchs left the bridge, the radar officer seated to Xiandel's right reported in a low voice:
"Captain, the defense fleet is verifying our vessels... verification complete.
According to rendezvous protocol, the fire control systems of the defense fleet remain active, and our ships are fully locked."
"Captain..." The communications officer, also seated to Xiandel's right, turned and said:
"The commander of the 3rd defense fleet has initiated a real-time communication with us."
Hearing his crew's report, Xiandel narrowed his eyes, his earlier grin fading, and spoke with his four-part mouth:
"The 3rd Fleet... that must be Delava. Patch him through and display it on the central console."
"Yes, Captain."
The communications officer immediately relayed the communication and enlarged the screen on the central console.
The screen brightened from black, displaying the bridge of a CSO-class carrier and a gold-armored Elite captain.
"Roar."
Upon seeing Xiandel, the other Elite let out a low growl, typical of their species, before demanding in their native tongue:
"Rostaze, explain why you and your fleet have abandoned your post and intruded upon the Sacred Domain. Otherwise... you will all become cannon fodder."
"You always did like to talk down to others, Delava," Xiandel teased as usual, then added with a hint of helplessness:
"It was my failure to properly discipline the Brutes, which led to an uprising, triggering the Forerunner relic's (Shield World 0459) defense systems. My fleet suffered heavy losses as a result.
If we had stayed in orbit around the relic, we would have become casualties ourselves, Delava. So, I had no choice but to retreat from that sector.
Moreover, I already reported the situation to the Council when we entered slipspace."
"Hah! As expected, you're as useless as ever," Delava sneered, then continued:
"Severe losses? You should be undergoing repairs at the rear.
And Rostaze, your duty was to protect the relic. Now you've abandoned your post and trespassed into the Sacred Domain. You've brought shame to the Sangheili!
How do you think those uncultured Brutes will view this? You should have died at the relic to uphold your honor. If it weren't—"
"We retrieved an important artifact related to the Sacred Ring," Xiandel interrupted Delava's tirade, his voice full of confidence as he countered:
"If we had perished at the relic, this artifact would have fallen into the hands of the Hive (Flood), which have overrun the relic. That's not a scenario the Prophets or the Council would want."
"An important artifact?"
Delava's demeanor finally calmed, and he asked:
"Is that your reason for intruding upon the Sacred Domain?"
"Of course. I also discovered the true relationship between the gods and the Hive. I must report everything I've learned to the Council
in person."
Xiandel lied with a straight face.
The so-called "important artifact" was, in fact, a star chart projector that Serenity Bank had prepared specifically to deceive the Covenant.
As for the Flood, which had overrun Shield World 0459, while the Flood were an extremely dangerous biological weapon, the Prophets falsely labeled them as "divine creations" and claimed they were a crucial part of the Great Journey.
However, Xiandel, having personally witnessed the Flood's horror, along with the Elites who understood its characteristics, regarded them as nothing more than insects or vermin.
In reality, the Elite council members had already engaged in several heated debates with the Prophets over the Flood.
But the Prophets, including the three High Prophets—Truth, Mercy, and Regret—held their ground, causing every debate to end in frustration.
This growing tension also increased the Prophets' fear of the powerful and uncontrollable Elites.
Still, Delava, who had little interest in politics, seemed to be swayed by Xiandel's words.
After all, when it came to matters involving the Forerunners, the defense fleet had no authority to obstruct Xiandel's movements. In fact, they were required to assist.
After a moment of silence, Delava's tone softened, and he said:
"I will upload this information to the High Council. Wait a moment."
With that, the holographic screen went dark, and the bridge fell silent as everyone waited patiently.
The helmsman and gunnery officers, all clad in silver power armor, nervously watched their consoles, ready to withdraw or open fire at a moment's notice.
Any mistake would result in the full force of the defense fleet bearing down on them.
After a short while, the screen lit up again.
But this time, it wasn't Delava who appeared on the screen—it was a figure with an ostrich-like face, white eyelashes and body feathers, and dressed in ornate robes—
The Prophet of Mercy.
At the sight of him, Xiandel instinctively wanted to hurl insults.
After Samuel had used his psychic abilities to reveal part of the truth to him—especially the facts surrounding the ancient Human-Forerunner-Flood war—Xiandel realized that the Prophets' "Great Journey," which involved activating the Halo Array, would annihilate all sentient life in the galaxy.
It was the height of ignorance.
Years of pent-up anger, frustration with the lies, and a growing sense of betrayal made Xiandel want to tear the Prophet apart.
But reason triumphed over emotion, and he immediately stepped away from the captain's chair, bowed deeply, and respectfully greeted:
"Xiandel Banck Rostaze, at your service, Prophet of Mercy."
"Captain Rostaze, no need for formalities," the Prophet of Mercy waved a finger, signaling for Xiandel to rise, and said:
"The High Council will hear your appeal and listen to your report regarding the gods and the Brute uprising."
"Understood."
"Good. From here, Captain Delava will handle the remaining matters."
With that, the holographic screen switched back to Delava.
"Rostaze, your fleet is to dock within the 3rd Fleet's control zone, and you are permitted to bring only your personal guard with you to High Charity's Port Six.
From there, the Honor Guard will ensure your 'safety' until the High Council is ready to receive you."
Delava then added in a different tone:
"These are the regulations—don't take them personally."
"I understand." Xiandel nodded slightly.
"I hope you can cleanse yourself of dishonor and return to fight for the Covenant."
Delava raised his right hand, palm open, offering the traditional Elite gesture of respect.
In response, Xiandel returned the gesture and said:
"For honor."
The communication ended.
Xiandel turned and headed for the exit, muttering to himself:
"Regulations, huh? What threat could my tiny fleet possibly pose? What are they so afraid of?
It seems my lord was right—the Prophets are just like Earth's creatures... ostriches."
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