Not long after.
The 3rd Defensive Fleet, led by the CSO-class super-heavy carrier and consisting of over a hundred warships of various classes, surrounded Xian Del's fleet.
Visually, Xian Del's Holy Light Advocate and its four 300-meter-long CRS-class ships seemed minuscule compared to the massive CSO-class carrier.
At this moment, a fork-shaped Wraith transport ship emerged from the Holy Light Advocate's hangar.
Simultaneously, the CSO-class carrier launched a large number of beetle-shaped Siren fighters to escort and secure the Wraith transport ship.
This aerial formation broke away from the fleet and headed directly towards the planetary-scale City of Charity.
It quickly crossed the dark void of space, empty except for the Covenant warships, and arrived at the "stem" of the giant mushroom-shaped structure, navigating into the airlock zone of Port Six.
The port's fixed defense cannons immediately locked onto the Wraith transport, while the Siren fighters turned and withdrew, heading back towards the CSO-class carrier.
Once the Sirens had departed, the airlock zone emitted a purple glow as the force field took control of the Wraith, slowly guiding it toward the docking bay.
Inside the Wraith's cabin:
"Cowardly trash, hmph."
An elite guard, clad in orange armor, looked outside the window at the display and sneered in disdain.
In the past, they would have considered the stringent defenses of the Holy Realm as proper protocol, with pilgrims arriving here subject to all forms of inspection.
But now, it seemed purely like the prophets were scared out of their minds.
Of course, before they learned the truth from Samuel Young, they had waged countless wars of extermination under the prophets' claims that "they are traitors!" and "blasphemous heretics!"
Without their elite race, the prophets wouldn't have been able to secure their current ruling position.
Even so, the Covenant's internal divisions kept emerging.
Though they had their doubts and dissent, when the prophets pulled out their rhetoric about "defying divine will brings dishonor," they ultimately chose to remain silent.
However, when the Covenant absorbed the Jiralhanae, the Brutes, those creatures began gradually replacing them in leadership roles.
From squad leaders to the supreme commanders of fleets.
As a result, the already strained relationship between the elites and the Brutes deteriorated further, turning into rivalry and outright hostility.
In the past, no race besides the prophets could challenge the elites' status.
Even if they were politically slow, most senators and fleet commanders could tell the prophets were deliberately stoking conflict between the two sides.
After all, the prophets had no real combat ability and could be killed by even a Grunt.
This made them highly dependent on the elites for protection, and the Covenant's rank-and-file soldiers only recognized the elites as their true leaders.
The only thing keeping the elites in line with the prophets was the intangible concept of "honor." If the elites realized that the Great Journey was a lie, the entire religious empire built by the prophets would collapse.
Thus, the Brutes became the prophets' perfect tool for maintaining balance.
Also a warrior race, the Brutes had lower intelligence and emotional maturity, akin to primitive "ape-men" straddling the line between civilization and savagery.
Although they lacked the fleet command capabilities of the elites, they were good enough.
On the other hand, the elites didn't consider violently eliminating the Brutes as a threat to their status but instead aimed to prove their worth to the prophets through more victories and honors.
In hindsight, it was kind of "stupid."
"Keep your emotions in check," Xian Del reminded his men after hearing their grumbling. "No matter what I say later, all of you—keep your mouths shut, understood?"
"Yes, sir."
The elite guards all nodded in agreement.
Thud—thud!
Suddenly, the landing gear made contact with the metallic deck.
Whoosh—whoosh!
The two side doors of the Wraith transport opened, allowing Xian Del and his twenty elite guards to step out into the atmospheric and gravity-controlled hangar.
Waiting for them were a hundred honor guards, holding plasma beam spears and clad in expensive armor.
These honor guards, masters of swordsmanship and marksmanship who served the prophets, never saw the Brutes as a threat.
Born into nobility, these guards underwent rigorous family training from birth to become the prophets' top protectors.
A captain of the honor guards, wearing a red cloak over his armor, stepped forward and said with a hint of disdain in his voice:
"Captain Ross, according to the holy code, you are not permitted to carry any weapons. Additionally, please hand over the important item you mentioned. We will secure it."
"No problem."
Xian Del calmly removed the plasma sword hilt from his waist and a silver metallic cube the size of a ping-pong ball, handing both to the honor guard captain.
Seeing this, the twenty elite guards behind Xian Del also handed over their plasma spears and sword hilts to the honor guards surrounding them.
"Thank you for your cooperation. Follow me, please."
The honor guard captain, with a sweep of his hand that made his cloak billow, turned and headed toward the interior of the City of Charity.
Xian Del and his guards, now under the escort of the honor guards, passed through the gates and entered a corridor where the walls and floor were painted a glossy purple.
They then boarded a hover train that traveled along the edge of the city, arriving at the prison block for high-security prisoners.
After disembarking from the train and walking through the corridors between cells—
"Well, look who it is, the almighty Sangheili."
"Skinny wimps. Shame about the armor you're wearing."
Xian Del and his group were taunted by Brutes who had been imprisoned for violating religious rules or for fighting with the elites.
"Roar!"
Several elite guards growled in response, clearly irritated.
"Pay no mind to that trash," said the honor guard captain. "They're all condemned to death anyway, not long for this world."
Though the captain looked down on Xian Del for abandoning his post, they were still of the same species, so naturally, he favored them when the Brutes mocked them.
With that, the captain personally unlocked the energy gate to a large cell, turning to Xian Del and saying:
"Please wait here until the High Council convenes."
"Thanks for the escort, buddy!"
Xian Del chuckled as he entered the cell, casually picking a fixed bunk and removing his helmet before lying down.
The twenty elite guards followed his example, entering the cell without saying much to the honor guards.
Seeing this, the honor guard captain reactivated the high-energy barrier and led his men out of the prison block.
Not long after, two more elite warriors came to visit.
One wore a Berserker's armor, dark red with glowing purple lines, while the other wore silver-white armor, the symbol of a shipmaster, a rank just below Xian Del's gold-tier.
"Hey, Xian Del."
The shipmaster, speaking in their native tongue, grumbled:
"What kind of trouble did you get yourself into? You're a fleet commander now, with a bright future, but you had to mess with those Brutes?"
"I just wanted to get some sleep. Is that so hard?"
Xian Del, pretending to be disturbed from sleep, slowly sat up and scratched his bald head before reluctantly getting off the bunk.
He approached the energy gate and sarcastically said to the shipmaster:
"Brother, we haven't seen each other in so long, and the first thing you do is scold me? Really, Atas?
And you, Tir," Xian Del turned to the silent Berserker, teasing him, "I've warned you so many times—following Atas won't bring you any luck, but you never listen."
"You bastard!" Atas, the shipmaster, was furious at Xian Del's flippant attitude, shouting:
"I came all the way here to check on you, and this is how you act?"
"All right..." Tir, the Berserker, was much calmer, raising his hand to stop his angry friend. He then asked Xian Del:
"What exactly happened at the artifact?"
"Just as the report said, the Brutes rioted. You'll understand everything once the High Council convenes," Xian Del replied, not revealing the truth to his childhood friends, knowing this wasn't the right place to talk.
Atas' full name was Atas Vadam, and Tir's was Tir Vadamee.
According to the timeline of Halo 2, Tir Vadamee was the elite character controlled by players, the supreme commander responsible for attacking Reach and pursuing the Pillar of Autumn.
After Master Chief crashed the Pillar of Autumn and destroyed Installation 04 by overloading its engines, Tir Vadamee was stripped of his rank by the three prophets and branded a heretic.
Later, Vadamee was named the Arbiter, tasked with carrying out suicidal missions.
As for Atas Vadam, he was the "Half-Jaw" shipmaster, famous for his battle cry, "Perfectly matched, unleash everything!" upon learning the Brute fleet outnumbered them three-to-one.
However, at this point, both of them were still young elites, having left their homeworld just over a decade ago.
Xian Del, who had trained with them on their homeworld since childhood, was their close friend, sharing similar personalities and ideals.
The only difference was that Xian Del had a sharper tongue, while Atas had a shorter temper. Tir, the most skilled in combat
and strategy, often played the role of mediator between them.
At that moment.
After hearing Xian Del's words, Tir clearly didn't believe the official report that his friend had been forced to return to the City of Charity because of a Brute riot at the artifact.
Lowering his voice, Tir asked, "Is there any way we can help?"
"Help?" Xian Del pondered for a moment, then grinned:
"If possible, I'd love some fine wine from home. Can you guys make a trip back?"
"Wine? You're still thinking about wine at a time like this? Seriously..." Atas shook his head in disbelief.
"Is that all?" Tir, however, sensed a deeper meaning.
"Oh, right. Also, let our elders know there's no need to worry about me," Xian Del added.
"Understood."
Tir nodded, instantly grasping Xian Del's intent. He then tugged on Atas' shoulder armor and began walking out of the prison block.
"Huh?"
Atas was momentarily confused, clearly not understanding the cryptic conversation between his two friends.
However, being a well-trained elite, Atas knew that Xian Del wanted them to return to their homeworld.
Though he didn't fully grasp his friend's true intentions, he trusted Xian Del far more than the Covenant's official reports.
Meanwhile.
Under the dome of the City of Charity, within the tallest building in the inner city, there was a vast meditation plaza reserved for the three prophets.
The space was vast, featuring holographic projections of gardens, even with a gentle, pleasant breeze.
Honor guards stood at the plaza's edges, vigilantly observing both inside and outside, ensuring the absolute safety of the prophets, Truth, Regret, and Mercy, who were here discussing important matters.
The captain of the honor guard who had escorted Xian Del entered the plaza, holding the silver metallic cube in his hands. He crossed the bridge over an artificial lake and arrived at the island in the center.
The three prophets, seated in floating chairs, looked like fragile ostriches, their species having become overly reliant on technology, leading to severe physical degradation.
The captain knelt before the prophets, raising the cube in his hands and respectfully said:
"Honored Prophets, this is the item handed over by Captain Ross."
Upon seeing the cube, the Prophet of Mercy's clouded eyes immediately lit up, and he moved his floating chair forward, eager to take it.
However, the Prophet of Truth acted faster, using a gravity device to make the cube float directly into his hand. He then addressed the honor guard captain:
"You may leave."
"Yes, my lord."
The captain bowed and left the island.
"Hmm... by the looks of it, this is indeed made with Forerunner technology," the Prophet of Truth remarked arrogantly as he examined the cube.
The Prophet of Mercy's eyes briefly flashed with resentment before he returned to his usual calm and said:
"Based on the information provided by Captain Ross, this appears to be a guide."
"A guide to lead us to the sacred rings, perhaps? Hahaha."
The Prophet of Truth placed the cube on the armrest of his chair, glancing at the honor guards standing around the plaza, and said:
"Regardless of whether Ross's words are true, this is an excellent opportunity to weaken the influence of the Sangheili. It's time to fully support the Jiralhanae."
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