A wall of very important text awaits, enjoy.
Part 13: The Truth of it all....
"Long
ago John, my creators, the Forerunner's as you call them; were the
dominant power of the galaxy you reside in. They were powerful indeed,
and accomplished much with their might; you yourself have seen but a
fraction of what they could do through the Halo array."
John was
sat in a seat, his hands clasped tightly together and his brow furrowed
underneath the reflective dome of his helmet. Opposite to him,
Mendicant Bias was recounting a tale, he had an avid audience, the
usually practical Sergeant Johnson was leaned in, cigar in his mouth
but un-chewed. Even the Arbiter was listening, through the use of the
ship's speaker system.
"For aeons they advanced through the
ages, documenting every life form, terraforming planets, upholding
fully the Mantle that had been passed down to them."
"But they were not the first." The Monitor spoke in a dramatic tone.
"The
Precursors..." John breathed, remembering what he had read in the
Forerunner terminals scattered throughout the body of both the Ark and
Halo.
"Correct John. Millennia before my creators had even
developed a primitive form of speech, the Precursors were advancing
throughout the stars, going above and beyond the limits of the galaxy;
they were intergalactic."
"Nothing was impossible for them, they
were an unstoppable force, they kept the Universe in peace. And in the
unlikely event that something should happen to them, they created the
concept of the Mantle. In the event that the Precursors would be
destroyed, this mantle would be passed down to the best suited race to
continue their legacy. It happened that this race was that of my
creator's. And thus, when by a horrible accident the Precursors were
dethroned from the seat of power, the Forerunners carried on their
work. Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen."
John
paused at the revelation, and leaned back in the reclining chair,
thinking hard. Johnson had an extreme look of puzzlement upon his face.
"I'm afraid you've lost me Light bulb, what the hell are you talking about? You understandin' this Chief?" He inquired of both.
John
flashed back to the long philosophical talks with Deja, how each and
every Spartan was as intelligent as a noble prize winning scientist.
Not only was he one of the greatest fighters of the time, he was also
one of the greatest minds.
"I understand. But Mendicant, how exactly were the Precursors destroyed?"
"It
is a sad tale John, one which my master's documented carefully. Patches
were of course, missing from their information, but I have since then
fully come to understand what happened, due to an unforeseen event."
"Do go on." John spoke curtly.
"Very
well. As I said earlier, the Precursors were indisputably the most
intelligent beings the whole of the Universe has ever known. Every
great mystery ever known was revealed to them, and thus to my master's,
mostly anyway."
"Wait? Every mystery?" Johnson asked.
"Indeed
Sergeant, and before you ask, no, I shall not reveal on whether or not
there is truly a God, or life after death. There are some things you
must find out yourself."
Johnson seemed like he was going to
push further, but he suddenly realised that perhaps the Monitor was
right, and pressed no more.
"However, one problem was still
presented to them. Every organism, no matter how advanced, must die
some day. It is inevitable. But the Precursors set out to change that.
They set out to cheat death. And what's more, Reclaimers, is that they
accomplished it."
Johnson spat out his cigar in surprise.
"That's not possible Light bulb, no one can live forever. Are your circuits scrambled or something."
Mendicant Bias gave a slight chuckle.
"Why
is it not possible Sergeant? The mind is just, in essence, a long
string of code, programmed in a very complex manner. My mind is built
like that also, just in a less fleshy way than yours. So if all the
mind is made of is code, can it not be preserved?"
John was beginning to understand the basics of what was going on.
"But
you can't store organic code in a computer. That's why, when we create
smart AIs, we have to convert the brain into binary. But when you do
that, whilst the AI may retain the same personality and intelligence of
the brain, it will not have it's memories, nor will it be the person
who once possessed the brain." He stated, challenging the Monitor's
words.
"An astute observation John, and you are right. Organic
matter cannot be placed within a machine. That is why, when the
Precursors wished to transfer the mind of one of them, they placed it
within a artificially created organism, a living computer if you may.
An outstanding, and uncomprehending feat to us, but it happened." The
Monitor paused, no doubt enjoying it's audience.
"Whenever a
Precursors' physical body died, the mind would be transferred into this
living computer, where it could continue to think and communicate. As
well as that, the alive computer had the ability to craft bodies for
the stored Precursors out of pure calcium, and the minds of the once
dead would be transferred into these, linked to the central unit."
"That's amazing..." John breathed, thinking of the ramifications of this. "But what went wrong?"
"At
some point, the computer became sentient, and that's when the trouble
started. It assessed the prowess of the Precursors, and deemed them
unworthy. It decided that they were to be killed. Now, being linked to
the minds of so many of the dead, it had complete understanding of the
Precursor way of thinking."
"Every attempt made by them to shut
it down was foiled, and through the use of viral minions, it slowly
began to absorb all the still living Precursors into it. Not only that,
but the ones which were linked were completely under it's dominance.
Effectively, the Precursors were betrayed by themselves. Many of the
once dead had reintegrated back into normal life, going home to their
families, sat upon high chairs within their Council. There was no way
they could have survived, eventually, they were all converted, under
the control of the one unit. Slaves, mindless slaves to a rampant
machine's bidding."
"What a way to go..." Johnson muttered.
"Indeed
Sergeant. One can only imagine the horror of having ones own father
attempt to assimilate you, be betrayed by one's closest friends.
Everything the Precursors had ever known fell apart, had it not been
for the mantle, their legacy would have died."
"After
successfully cleansing this galaxy of all Precursor life, the central
intelligence turned it's dark gaze upon the rest of the universe, and
deemed it too, unworthy. Using advanced Precursor slip space
technology, which could not only take you through space, but also
through time itself, it wiped out every last remnant of it's creators.
And for aeons, it was never seen again. My master's upheld the mantle
as they swore they would, and protected the galaxy they lived in from
harm. Unfortunately, they had not mastered the practice of
intergalactic travel, and slowly, the rest of the Universe dimmed."
"So this central intelligence, what happened to it? Did it come back?" John asked the Monitor.
"Oh, it came back John, as you should know. You have, after all, met it." Came the reply.
"...I have?" The Spartan was extremely confused.
"Why of course you have John, not only did you meet it, but you hampered it's progress in destroying all."
"You know it as The Gravemind."
"This one has forgotten whether it's heatsink is over capacity. It wonders whether the criminal scum considers itself fortunate" ~ Blasto, the only Hanar Spectre.