I don’t care if u fw the halo series or not aT LEAST THE CGI IS GOOD

An AU of an AU, where a Demon scorned becomes a Destroying Angel

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Jeanette's blood boiled.

How dare they - how dare they speak the words that came out of their soft, sneering mouths? Words that brought condemnation down on the head of one she'd come to see as a father - and beyond that, all those she'd grown to love.

Xal and Nai. Egiri and Nigatu. Ayza and Tyran.

And Khyl. At the pinnacle of them all, Khyl - who had saved her, had sheltered her, who had provided for and taught her and raised her as his own. Who, even now - bloodied and broken and brought to his knees - refused to renounce her.

And these creatures dared to speak to him in this manner?

She seethed.

Her lips drew back in a snarl and a growl rose in her chest as the three Prophets regarded her, now, with watery eyes; she could feel the Honor Guard's blade at the back of her neck, poised to strike her down at their bidding... but she felt no fear, only a roiling, scalding rage.

"Have you something to say before your execution, Demon?" The one in the center - Truth, he calls himself "Truth," she thought disdainfully - asked in that patronizingly mock-gentle tone of his.

Demon. The word burned in her veins like fire, surging along ley-lines carved into her flesh and bone when she had still been just a child.

She fixed the feeble, wormlike creature with a white-hot glare.

"You should not have done that."

The Prophets had named her Demon, and so a Demon she would become.

The Honor Guard holding her was quick, she would give him that, but he was agonizingly slow compared to her; she struck like lightning, and he toppled, dead before he even hit the ground.

And now, she was armed; the staff he had once carried was a familiar and welcome weight in her hands.

All at once, the platform descended into chaos as the Prophets rushed to retreat and their guards scrambled to put a stop to her advance. Weapons drawn, they charged as one, and she met them fearlessly, slipping past them and beneath their blows and weaving them into an intricate dance in which she was the lead and they could only follow... and fall, one by one by one, by opened throat or evisceration or impalement, spilling blood from the stumps of severed limbs and utterly outmatched by her.

Jeanette abandoned the staff in favor of a sword - and with a practiced, fluid movement she'd relieved a dead Guard of his active camouflage module, as well.

And then, she was on the hunt.

Distantly, she thought she could hear Khyl calling out to her, trying to call her back. But it was too late. It had been too late from the moment that brand had been laid to his chest. They had dishonored her father and threatened her family and for that they would pay dearly.

High Charity was vast, and teemed with guards and warriors of all stripes and species - but she was a hunter by nature, stealthy and steadfast in her determination.

The Hierarchs could hide - would hide, the sniveling bloodless cowards - but she would prevail.

***

Mercy was the easiest to find, and the easiest to kill. He was old, feeble even by San'shyuum standards, hardly a challenge.

Regret was younger, fiercer, cleverer, and had a much stronger rapport with his guards. And yet, despite his precautions and ferocity he, too, fell.

It was Truth - mediocre Truth, too-lucky-by-far Truth, running-out-of-luck Truth - who led her on the longest chase of the day, having abandoned his colleagues in pursuit of preserving himself as he fled to the safest location on High Charity.

The Dreadnought.

Perhaps he thought that the Mgalekgolo would keep her out - but she had spent half of her life learning from outstanding examples of their kind. If she could sneak up on Nigatu, what chance did these constructs have at detecting her? None.

Or perhaps he thought that the security and locks would confound her - but her dearest brother was an engineering genius like his late father, and she had learned so much from him. It was only a matter of time before she found her way inside.

And perhaps, in the end, he thought that his Jiralhanae escorts would defeat her, when his Sangheili Guardsmen failed. But she had learned to fight against brutish wild beasts on the live-fire ranges of Erebus-VII, and she had honed her skills further under the watchful eyes of distinguished warriors and Scions and her father, a Blademaster. She was as bestial as any Brute and as sharp as the finest blade and her victory was assured.

When Truth fell, with her sword piercing his withered, selfish heart, the last words he would ever hear were hers.

"You should have known better than to scorn a Demon."

Jeanette tossed the hilt of her now-inactive sword aside as she turned away from the corpse; the clatter of metal against metal echoed in the now-silent chamber; she had no further reason to remain there. She had to find her father, now, and they had to leave this place.

In the heartbeat that followed, she felt more than heard the thrum that reverberated through the air. It traveled through her as a violent shudder, vibrating in the depths of her chest; the sound-sensation felt like the hum of a Mgalekgolo's "voice" - but immeasurably larger.

She turned back, feeling ice-cold dread coiling in her gut.

A flash of blinding blue-white light dazzled her, forcing her to squint and shield her eyes, and with the light came a voice that seemed to shake the Dreadnought to its very base.

R E C L A I M E R

It said.

C H I L D  O F  M Y  M A K E R S

W E L C O M E

Salma ‘Zolakee

Salma 'Zolakee yawned in boredom, clacking his mandibles closed. He cradled his Beam Rifle close to him, giving the appearance that he was ready to jump up at a moment's notice to defend the Hierarchs. Truthfully, he was alert, but…well, he had actually only had to pull the trigger of his weapon once, when a kamikaze Unggoy had foolishly thought he could charge the High Prophets, plasma grenades strapped to his body, and assassinate them without resistance. But, that was the only instance that the sniper had to act. Day in, and day out, he sat in the shadows, waiting, watching, while nothing happened.

Today, however, his boredom was accompanied by another feeling, one of unease, the sensation that something was amiss. Salma had attempted to mark it off, but it was beginning to creep forth again. A Kig-yar ran into the High Prophets' chamber, allowing a welcome distraction from the eerie sixth sense. Salma instantly raised his Rifle, aiming it right at the avian alien, waiting, just waiting for it to make a wrong move…but it did not. Salma smirked in contempt as the Kig-yar knelt before the two present Hierarchs. Surely, he would be turned away, as were most other species so low in the Covenant hierarchy…However, the Sangheili sniper's smirk turned to an expression of incredulity as Truth looked the Kig-yar over, nodded, and beckoned the Kig-yar closer!! The Kig-yar hurried up the steps and to Truth's side, whispering something to him. Salma swore that the Kig-yar looked directly at him and sneered, but…that couldn't have been. The Kig-yar finished relaying his message to the Prophets and, the moment Truth flicked his hand to dismiss him, he was gone. Truth looked to his fellow Hierarch and nodded. Salma, mystified, tilted his head at the two and looked to where the Kig-yar had gone. What had just occurred was beyond him; only the highest-ranking officers were permitted to approach the High Prophets, yet, this lowly Kig-yar messenger had been beckoned by Truth himself…Salma decided to ignore it when he glanced to see his replacement taking up the opposite sniper position, signifying that his shift was over. He did a quick double-take; instead of the usual Sangheili Special Operations warrior or Honor Guard, it was a Kig-yar. Shaking it off, Salma stepped down from his position and knelt to pack up his belongings. None of what just happened mattered; soon, he would be home…He would be greeted by his two sons, Erot and Elto, and his clandestine wife, Eradica…The mere thought of her smiling visage banished any worry or apprehension that plagued him. He sighed happily to himself and began to rise, but paused when he realized that a shadow had been cast over him. He looked over his shoulder, curious as to what had created it…His eyes widened, but it was already too late; the Jiralhanae Major raised his Brute Shot and brought it down into the back of Salma's head, instantly rendering him unconscious. ------- Salma groaned as he slowly came to his senses. He could feel the back of his head pounding and knew what had happened. He attempted to reach up and ensure that he was not bleeding, but something seemed to be constricting his arms…Salma cracked open his eyes to see that the ground was moving beneath him…He opened his eyes a bit more and blinked, glancing to either side of him; he was being dragged by two Jiralhanae. The ground changed to a far cleaner floor: a home, perhaps? As soon as his captors stopped, he finally dared to lift his head to look around. The site that greeted him caused him to gape in horror. It was his home, the furniture thrown about, glass littering the floor, everything ransacked…but that wasn't what terrified him. What was, was his wife, Eradica, and his two young sons, all three of them plasma-cuffed, kneeling on the floor just a few mere feet from him, their heads bowed in terror. A large Jiralhanae in shining golden armor, a Captain, loomed behind Salma's cowering family, a dark chuckle rumbling from his filthy throat. "I see you're awake…Good." the Captain said mockingly, looking down his snout to Salma. Salma glowered up at the Captain defiantly, not even lifting his head to so, anger and confusion filling him. The Captain's mocking smirk faded at the challenging stare. His gaze shifted down to Eradica, a sly sneer creeping onto his maw. Taking it as a threat, Salma nearly jumped up, but was immediately caught by the two Jiralhanae Majors, earning a kick in the gut from one of them. The force of the blow forced the breath in Salma's body to come rushing out of him, causing him to cough and wheeze as he inhaled, shocked. "Leave him alone!" Eradica shouted. "Salma, are you alright??" she gasped, concerned for her husband. "I'm…fine…Just stay quiet, love." he said, recovering enough to speak, though he still somewhat wheezed at first. The Captain now barked a harsh laugh, kneeling behind and to Eradica's side, separating her from one of her sons, causing her to growl at him as he took her by the chin. "So, this is the breeder you keep as a mate? I bet she knows her way around a male…" His tongue rolled out of his mouth, dangerously close to Eradica, his disgustingly steamy breath rolling over her face, making her reel with revulsion. Salma, taking the bait, felt indignant rage boil within him. He growled furiously at the Captain, only to receive a punch to his left cheek bone from one of his pack mates. He shook his head and spat out the blood he felt gathering in his mouth. "Why are you doing this?? This is madness! The Prophets will have your heads for this!!" Salma roared, again receiving a punishing blow, this time to his chest. All three Jiralhanae began to cackle, stirring confusion in the Sangheili family. "Mom, what's going on??" Erot whispered to his mother, sidling closer to her, eyes filled with fear. "Shh, I don't know…" Eradica whispered back to him. "You fool…" the Captain scoffed, aggressively throwing Eradica's head away from him. "You're being replaced. Your entire race is. You see, they no longer have a use for you pathetic, sniveling Sangheili…We are their new guards, we are the physical backbone of the Covenant, as we always have been. They have finally recognized our loyalty, our strength, and have tasked us with your kind's eradication…We may deal with it in whichever way we choose…" Each Sangheili's eyes dilated with dread as the Captain's mouth opened in a broad grin, revealing his numerous flesh-tearing canines. Salma's dread-filled expression changed to rage the instant the Captain drew the Sangheili's own blade from his side, watching as idly looked it over. The Captain caught his glare and feigned surprise. "Oh! Is this yours…? Ah, well…It has been fun toying with you and your family, but I fear we must 'cut' this short…" Both parents saw the Captain's eyes land on their youngest child, Erot. Eradica cried out in anguish as he suddenly grabbed the boy by the neck, tossing him away from his mother. In an instant, he had decapitated the child. Salma let loose a roar of agony as his son's lifeless head rolled in front of him, staring up at him with wild, confused dark brown eyes, mirrors of his own. He again jumped at the Captain, but again, failed; the two Majors caught him by his arms and floored him instantly, beating him until he stopped struggling, a sign of submission. He shut his eyes, only able to listen as his family was destroyed. "Mom!!" Elto yelped, his hooves scuffling across the floor. "It will be alright, dear, I promise…It will be quick!" Eradica choked, barely containing herself as her other son was killed right before her. "Oh, Gods…Why??" Salma finally opened his eyes and lifted his head in time to see Eradica being lifted off the ground, looking to him with tear-stained cheeks. She reached out to him, beautiful blue eyes overflowing with liquid. "I will always love you, Salma!!" she shouted to him, but was quickly silenced by Salma's own blade; the Jiralhanae decapitated her perhaps a bit more callously then he had the children, a look of feral joy painting his grotesque face. Everything around Salma slowed as he watched her body fall to the floor. The thud that reached his ears seemed to echo throughout the galaxy; it was just so loud…But with that sound, Salma snapped. Everything suddenly sped up. Bellowing in unadulterated fury, the strength of ten gods seemed to flow into Salma. In a second, he leapt to his hooves and threw his arms at the two Majors, catching them off-guard. He struck both right in their faces, knocking them right to the floor. In one flawless movement, he rushed the Jiralhanae Captain, knocking the Energy Sword from his furry, tree-trunk arms. With the Captain distracted by the flying weapon, Salma delivered a powerful kick square in his chest, sending him back. Salma ran and caught his sword, turning still in one brilliant move to slash the two Majors in half as they lunged at him. With his two pack mates killed and left all alone, the Captain howled his loss and flew into a blind rage, recklessly charging his armed opponent. Thinking quickly, Salma ducked down and, with one swipe of his sword, cut off the Jiralhanae's legs. He glared down at him as he howled in pain, staring in horror at his bleeding limbs, now separated from the rest of his body. Switching off his blade, Salma grabbed the Jiralhanae by his head and dragged him to his home's balcony. Pausing at the edge, Salma stepped in front of the Captain, tilting his head up so he could look him in the eyes as he snarled, "This is for my family!" With that, Salma stepped to the side and kicked the Jiralhanae off the balcony, leaning over the edge to watch as he fell into the abyss below. His scream followed the Sangheili even as he walked up to a photo of his family. Eradica was dressed in a beautiful, purple silk gown that flowed around her, kneeling to embrace both their sons from behind, who were dressed in their training armor, carrying their metal training blades. Erot, of course, was laughing, fidgeting, trying to escape his mother's grasp. His brother was calmer, but just as gleeful; his grin said so. All three of them were smiling, happy…alive. Salma clenched his mandibles together, a tear finally escaping his eye to slip down his cheek. He quickly removed the photo from its frame and placed it inside his helmet, putting it back on before grabbing a Carbine from one of the Majors' bodies. With weapon in hand, he fled his war-torn home, running to Gods-knew-where and whatever fate he was destined for.