"Roar—! Bastards!"
As Nathaniel's words fell, before Dr. Halsey could even respond, the Brute prisoners in the other cages began stirring again.
"Humans, the High Prophets will not spare you! The Covenant will not spare you!"
Some cages had just been handed over to the UNSC Defense Force soldiers, yet the Brutes inside immediately slammed their faces against the bars, pounding them with their massive hands.
Bang! Bang!
Under the force of these half-ton behemoths, the cages wobbled violently, seemingly ready to break apart at any moment.
"Stay back! Damn aliens!"
The UNSC soldiers flinched, instinctively raising their weapons and shouting in alarm.
"Hahaha!" The Brutes burst into laughter, their mockery unrestrained as they observed the humans taking two steps back and raising their guns in a tense stance.
One particularly defiant Brute, its scarred black face lifted high, glared with undisguised contempt at the 'dwarves' before it, despite having endured endless torture at the hands of the Night Lords' interrogators.
"I can smell your fear! Cowards! You humans are all cowards! Heretics who should be purged!"
Stretching its battered body, the Brute raised its remaining three-fingered hand. Its tawny fur was matted with dried blood, sweat, and scabs, its upper body covered in the marks of torment. Yet, in its eyes, these wounds were symbols of honor.
Brutes were structurally similar to humans—two shoulders supporting a single head. Apart from their fur, the primary distinction lay in their hands, which had four fingers with two opposable thumbs, allowing them to wield both Covenant and human weaponry with ease.
Outside the cage, heavily armed human soldiers stood poised to act. Inside, the wounded, unarmed Brutes sneered at their caution. To Brute tribal culture, such caution was nothing but weakness!
"Come on! Cowards! If you have the guts, let me out and fight me one-on-one!"
Grinning widely, the Brute exposed its shattered teeth. The UNSC soldiers could clearly see the damage—its fangs had been broken to splinters, its gums mangled, and raw flesh remained where teeth had been violently ripped out.
"Hahaha, I bet you won't dare."
Looking at the Brute's arrogant demeanor and the ruckus it was making, one might have assumed it was the victor instead of the captive.
Truly, after witnessing the fate of their commander firsthand, one would think they'd be silent. And yet, they still dared to cause a commotion.
Were they just stubborn? Reckless? Loyal to the Covenant to a fault? Or were they simply unyielding even under the oppressive weight of Selene Imperialism?
The truth was much simpler.
Through extensive interrogation, dissection, and soul-searching of Covenant species, the Sacred Selene Empire's forces had gained some insight into this 'ape-like' species' behavior: they were simply brutes—literal and figurative.
Barring a rare, once-in-a-century exception, the entire Brute species was impulsive and quick-tempered. While anatomical studies suggested they possessed a theoretical intelligence higher than an average human, they lacked imagination, adhered rigidly to routine, displayed zero innovation, and were entirely ruled by instinct.
Essentially, they never used their brains—hence why they suffered heavy losses in space battles against Elites and humans alike.
And now, why were they acting up again? The reason was simple—they had already forgotten their pain.
It was as if they thought: "Hmm, the Night Lords haven't beaten me in almost an hour. Yes, almost an hour..."
After a round of beatings and torture, the Brutes might behave for a while, even showing signs of fear. But soon enough, if the beatings stopped, they would revert to their usual arrogance, believing themselves invincible once more.
In this regard, even the Astartes of the Night Lords found them remarkable. Did they have single-threaded brains?
"Are these Brutes so enraged because of our attack on their commander?"
Unable to understand the Brutes' Kig-Yar dialect, Halsey was unaware of their insults toward humanity. She shifted her gaze away from the gruesome wounds inflicted by the Night Lords and turned to Parangosky. "General, how do you plan to handle these Covenant prisoners? May I—"
"Use tranquilizer guns. Keep these alien apes in check." Before Halsey could finish, Parangosky interrupted her, unwilling to entertain further discussion.
"No need for that trouble. Night Lords, deliver them directly."
In the next instant, a fist whistled through the air.
A steel-clad punch struck a snarling Brute squarely in the forehead.
Thud!
The impact between metal and skull produced a dull, resounding crack. The Brute collapsed instantly.
One after another, with successive heavy thuds, Brutes were knocked unconscious and hauled out of their cages by the Night Lords.
"We'll deliver them for you. No rush for negotiations—you can choose the location," Nathaniel said amicably.
"..."
Tilting her head upward, Parangosky locked eyes with the towering blue-armored giant. She made a swift decision. "Fine. But only you may come. Your subordinates will take your 'gifts' to the cells."
"And surrender your weapons." Her voice remained expressionless.
"No problem."
Nathaniel complied without hesitation, removing his finely crafted explosive pistol, heat-melt pistol, tactical combat knife, and chainsword from his magnetic holster, handing them over to a nearby UNSC soldier.
Most of the weapons were manageable, but the chainsword's weight nearly knocked the soldier over when Nathaniel casually tossed it. If not for the tactical exoskeleton, he might have been crushed under its sheer mass.
Striding briskly through the base corridors, Parangosky spoke sharply, "Dr. Halsey, let me make this clear: these Covenant prisoners are under the jurisdiction of Miranda and her xeno-technology research division."
"But since John brought them back, and Nathaniel specifically stated these were my 'gifts,' they should belong to me..." Halsey insisted, staying true to her persona as an obsessive scientist. It wasn't just an act—her fascination with Covenant prisoners was genuine.
"We've been at war with the aliens for too long. Earth Command needs answers. The Brute prisoners provide a crucial breakthrough. You understand what this means, Doctor. Unfortunately, we cannot hand them over to you."
Hoping to leave some room for diplomacy, Parangosky added, "At least, not in the short term. You'll still have plenty of work assigned to you."
"Fine, but you cannot exclude me from their research and analysis."
As Halsey and Parangosky haggled, they arrived at a specialized meeting room—designed explicitly for bio-enhanced soldiers like Nathaniel.
In reality, it was more of a containment cell than a conference room. As Nathaniel took his seat, he immediately noticed the constraints—it was clearly built to Spartan dimensions, making the fit uncomfortably tight.
"No need to be so afraid. I'm human, not an alien."
Watching Parangosky and her team of advisors seated safely behind thick bulletproof glass, Nathaniel maintained his usual grin, showing no signs of displeasure.
"Ahem..." Parangosky cleared her throat, placing both hands on the table. "Mr. Nathaniel, we have only a few questions for you. We are all humans here and mean no harm. It's just that some of the younger ones seem a bit afraid of you."
"Of course, we are all humans."
With that, Parangosky gestured for one of her advisors to take over.
"First question—Mr. Nathaniel, the prisoners you brought us appear to have suffered severe torture. Why did you do this? Do you have a deep-seated hatred for the Covenant? Have they harmed your homeland?"
The advisor asked.
"Do I need a reason to torture aliens?" Nathaniel countered. "Any who dare resist must be exterminated. Besides, the Brutes eat humans."
The Brutes, or Jiralhanae, treated human prisoners as playthings, torturing some to death while forcing others to fight to the death for their amusement.
Because of this, the Sacred Selene Empire saw no reason to offer them any chance of surrender.
Extermination was the only answer!
One could only wonder how certain extreme animal rights organizations might react to this. But in any functioning nation, whether the creature was a protected species or not, the moment it was proven to eat humans—especially fresh kills—it was condemned to death.
Harming humans and eating them were two very different things. The former might allow room for negotiation; the latter left none.
For instance, Covenant species such as Grunts, Elites, and Huragok (Engineers), though responsible for countless human deaths in war, fought for their own leaders. The Empire bore no extra hostility toward them.
But Brutes and Jackals? They consumed human flesh. That alone meant they were unfit even for forced labor or cannon fodder.
The advisor nodded. "Second question—where does Mr. Nathaniel come from?"
"Beyond the Outer Colonies. In regions beyond UNSC jurisdiction," Nathaniel replied nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather.
"Alright. Third question—why did you come to Arcadia? Your encounter with the Master Chief..."
...
Question after question, Nathaniel began to grow weary. Fortunately, it was the Night Lords handling this exchange rather than the Punishers or the World Eaters.
Strangely enough, the Night Lords had become the most diplomatic of the three Legions.
Their long experience in riot control and interrogations had made them exceptionally patient, adept at deception, and skilled at negotiating with ordinary humans.
By contrast, the Punishers of the Second Legion were far too proud, valuing dignity and honor above life itself. With Parangosky's attitude, they might have executed her on the spot. As for the World Eaters, they were only generous and amiable if you were one of their own.
"Hah..." The advisor exhaled after gathering all the responses. "Mr. Nathaniel, one final question—who provided your bio-enhancement technology and weaponry? Who is your leader? Does Dr. Halsey have any involvement?"
There it was.
Nathaniel lifted his gaze, his smile slowly fading. "Dr. Halsey has nothing to do with this. It is the gift of my God-Emperor. That is all."
"God?"
"Please elaborate."
"God is God."
Behind the bulletproof glass, the advisor exchanged glances with Admiral Parangosky and shook his head. Nathaniel's abrupt shift in demeanor left them momentarily at a loss.
"Mr. Nathaniel, this question is critical. It concerns your integration and treatment under our command. Please consider it carefully."
Parangosky finally stepped forward, her tone cold, with a slight edge of intimidation.
"Pfft...hahaha..."
Nathaniel suddenly burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking so hard that the table in front of him wobbled.
"Mind your attitude, Mr. Nathaniel," Parangosky said sternly.
"Hold on a second, couldn't help myself—how rude of me."
Nathaniel slowly stood up, casting a contemptuous glance at the mortals behind the thick bulletproof glass. "Integration? You think you're recruiting me? Where did you get that confidence? Who do you think you are..."
"Mortal!!"
In an instant, all traces of Nathaniel's previous politeness vanished, replaced by an overwhelming aura of murderous intent.
The Midnight Lord's voice thundered, his pitch-black eyes exuding crushing pressure. "You're mistaken. It is not you who are absorbing me—it is I who am absorbing you!"
"Target is hostile. Authorization granted for lethal force," Parangosky ordered without hesitation.
Boom!
A muzzle flash erupted. A 0.5-inch anti-materiel round burst forth, aimed directly at Nathaniel's unhelmeted forehead.
Nathaniel merely grinned. "Metal scrap."
Clang!
"Impossible?!" The entire room fell into stunned silence.
Without their MJOLNIR exoskeletons, even Spartans, despite their immense physical prowess, could still be pierced by ballistic rounds. Yet this towering bio-enhanced warrior had just deflected a hypersonic armor-piercing round with his bare skull?
"Mortal, your turn is over. Now it's mine."
The teleportation beacon activated.
A low hum filled the air—
Reflected in their wide eyes was the sight of armored giants emerging through arcs of energy.
"For Selene!"
The next moment—Bang! Bang! Bang!
...
Large Magellanic Cloud, Imperial Navy Flagship.
"So soon? They've already reached Reach?"
Standing by the observation window, Selene frowned slightly. Learning of Konrad Curze's plan, she knew the best course of action would be to personally intervene.
The defenses on Reach were formidable, with many hardened warriors—Spartan-II and Spartan-III operatives, ODSTs (Orbital Drop Shock Troopers), none of whom would surrender easily.
Even though the Astartes reconnaissance teams had seized control of high-ranking officers within the Reach Fleet Command, expecting UNSC ground forces to surrender to an unfamiliar empire was highly unlikely.
If a full-scale conflict erupted, Selene knew her Second Legion Punishers, Eighth Legion Night Lords, and Twelfth Legion World Eaters would unleash absolute carnage.
This was, after all, a consequence of her own manipulations. As long as they weren't Imperial citizens, even if they were fellow humans, the official records of the Empire did not recognize them as "people."
Acts of goodwill, assistance—those were discretionary, left to the judgment of individual legions and commanders. But the moment hostility was confirmed, even suspected, Astartes were fully authorized to execute extermination orders.
"Perhaps I should put the Large Magellanic Cloud's affairs on hold and make a trip to Reach."
Otherwise, by the time she returned to the Milky Way, she might find that the Unified Earth Government (UEG) had met the same fate as the Covenant—reduced from prosperity to ruin under the Empire's assault.
And ultimately, it would fall on Selene to spend her resources and manpower on an expensive large-scale reconstruction effort. That would be... highly inconvenient.
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