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Chapter 5 - Death (XIII)

Evans walked a few paces behind the Sangheili as they moved through the eternally dim, and never ending halls of the ring's lower sectors. The division they were entered in had been determined to be the shortest route to the Index Chamber; Evans had started off the morning in a heated exchange with Solitude. In the night Solitude had scanned the Mjolnir armor to learn more about its functions, Evans biology and his augmentations. Solitude noted the impressive build of the Mach-V armor, but saw that many systems within it had been damaged, including the crushed breast plate, shattered deltoid plate.

On the back, the fusion generator had not been entirely destroyed but was rendered unrepairable by the force at which Eyth 'Kha had slammed Evans. Solitude remarked it was beyond him how the human had endured the trauma. Having a Sentinel technician used in Ring Maintenance with him, he spent over an hour dismantling the armor piece by piece, and then catalogued it. Evans awoke the following morning in frenzy and startled Ze'ev, accusing him firstly, before arguing with Solitude who apologized incessantly.

Now, as he walked in his black bodysuit, he felt overly naked, and miserably cold. Ze'ev, ahead, kept his eyes affixed on the light blue hallway, listening to every detectable sound, and always being weary of the shadows. Evans looked up at the back of the Elite, and then looked away past him to see a smooth stairwell that led to an upper level.

"Where is the next location?" Evans asked.

"There is a cryogenics chamber we will need to bypass," Ze'ev calmly answered.

"All right." Evans answered, glancing up to the monitor who shown out a bright light ahead of them, due to the dimness of the place. He asked about it, and the monitor explained that an asteroid had damaged one of the Fusion Reactors over a thousand years ago. He shut down over a thousand kilometers of the Ring for power conservation, but due to the Sentinel bay being lost, he was unable to replace it.

"Sounds frustrating. I know if my house had a hole in it, I'd be livid."

"Oh yes, this is very devastating to me! Had my creators been present, I surely would be decommissioned!"

"It is not your fault," Evans assured him, "Besides; you're too cheery to toss into a garbage bin!" He patted the Oracle on the top of its head who made an almost worried sound at the prospect of being dismantled, and therefore unfulfilling its duty of igniting the ring!

Ze'ev kept his eyes focused ahead and to him-self he spoke under his breath on occasion, in thought about the path ahead. So long as they could manage to prevent Eyth 'Kha from firing the ring, or could trap him on a part and detonate it, they were in luck at stopping him. Secondly, there were no means of traveling off the Ring that Ze'ev knew of, so he felt confident for the time being. Evans had been informed by Solitude of their objective, and divulged all the information as he had to Ze'ev; Evans, more than anything, was very prying about the topic.

It will take at least fifteen hours to cover a third of the distance, Evans thought with utter disdain. If I had my armor on, I could cover it in half hat time! God dammit--I need some music, or something. I wish I had my fucking helmet. Fuck!

Ze'ev seemed to walk but a fraction slower, and Evans sped up to move beside of him. The Sangheili glanced down at him but seemed either displeased by his presence, or awkward to be walking next to a human. The air grew colder as they had neared a less insulated part of the underground, and Evans could feel the draft coming through, singing his skin. Ze'ev noticed the human shivering constantly.

I presumed that their bodies could handle this temperature after augmentation, Ze'ev thought to him-self. Seems they're too reliant on the armor.

"Aren't you cold, being in just that cloak?" Evans began, looking over at the old cloth.

"I am very cold, yes." Ze'ev admitted, looking down to the human, "And you, being in that body suit, must equally be cold."

Evans nodded, "Yeah, pretty damn miserable."

They traveled another thirty minutes or more in silence, covering almost 2 miles; their advancement was delayed be rising, lowering, corkscrew ramps and doors that took too long to activate. Evans had begun sweating but did not show signs of distress, though the damage he took from Eyth 'Kha had left him covered in bruises, and especially on the back of his head. He had developed a headache and rubbed the back of his neck, cracking it and felt only a moment of relief, before the vein behind his eyeball began throbbing again. It was crippling like all of the ones before, they were legendary in scale, and Evans was beside him-self in the pain that his eyes and the back of his head felt. Evans moaned under his breath and cussed about how much it hurt, trying to rub his temples and scalp to ease the tension, which felt like a coil wrapped around his skull.

_He has been rubbing his head for some time. The injury must be more than I expected--_Ze'ev looked over the human unsurely.

"Evans, if you require a sojourn to heal, then there is no objection."

"No, I am fine." Evans replied immediately, straightening him-self up and separated his teeth from grinding them together.

His skin had become increasingly pale and his eyes developed a reddish tint as the minutes passed, and Ze'ev, having never seen this before, was confused by the changes in pigmentation. Within half another half hour, the burning, stabbing throb of veins behind his eyes and the back of his neck left him feeling as if he had been shot. He recalled that it was almost similarly as painful as the augmentations he had endured when he was twelve; he placed his hand over his eye. They rounded a corner and he could see fallen wires, and collapsing parts of the roof, and it appeared that the ring had been neglected for thousands of years. The air grew colder as they went further, and it was beginning to inhibit his movement, as he fell behind Ze'ev.

God dammit--seriously, right fucking now? Uggh, fuck--fuck my head hurts so god damn much! That bastard fucked me up hard! Evans closed his eye for a moment, leaning against a door way as they stopped at a sliding door, with a ramp leading upwards. Evans did not know how far below the surface they were, but he could feel the cold wind still kissing at his skin, which only amplified his headache. Ze'ev led forwards into a dark green room and down a single, short flight of stairs to a tunnel that led left, or right. Along the center on a raised platform where transparent cylinders housing bright spectral lights, connected to the roof; Solitude explained this was one of the many generator rooms, through each sector.

"We will rest here now," Ze'ev stated. He dropped a pack that he carried over his shoulders onto the floor, which supplied enough nutrition for him and Evans to last for over a week. He saw the human lean against the wall and then sit down, and he worried the human may have contracted some kind of contamination. Evans leaned his head back against the cool steel wall and closed his eyes; cover his eyes with his hand.

"What is wrong with your eyes?" Ze'ev began gradually, "If you are suffering from a hemorrhage, you must not lie about it."

Evans sighed under his breath and looked between his fingers to the Elite, "Trigeminal autonomic cephalalgias; or cluster headaches."

"I do not understand either term," Ze'ev replied at hearing the odd terms, "It is something to do with your head?"

"Basically--take the feeling of being shot, apply it to your eyeballs, and then let the pain last about 2 hours a day, daily, every day of your life. Sometimes it is the neck, the jaw--doesn't matter." Evans leaned forward with a wave of hot fatigue, "Every fucking day."

"I do not wish to imagine this," The Sangheili answered, feeling bad for him. "I admire your perseverance; do others suffer a similar illness?"

"Some do, but I don't meet many guys with this shit." Evans muttered partially, trying to crack his neck, but finding it impossible! He sighed and cussed, "Doesn't matter, let's just keep going."

Ze'ev was concerned by this as it sounded incredibly sever, and he sifted through his pack to find a potent encephalin to prescribe to Evans. It was in the form of a liquid incased gel capsule, which he handed to Evans who looked at the cherry sized ball with uncertainty, but promised he was fine. He cracked his neck for a third time, proudly not allowing him-self to be nurtured by anyone, except him-self. Ze'ev, not wanting to offend the Soldier's pride, placed it back into the pack; and he proceeded to sit down across from Evans against the railing.

"It has been like this all my life; can't seem to fix it." Evans muttered, "Even the augmentations weren't able to stop this. It is like--a wild animal is chewing on my brain; you know what I mean?"

"Perhaps I do, yes." Ze'ev nodded partially, "Though, I have not heard this phrasing. It humored me."

Ze'ev almost smiled but did his best to hide it, and Evans looked over at him, having noticed it. Man this guy is stiff as a board, and he speaks like a scholar.

He watched as the Elite retrieved two containers from his pack, handing one to the human and nodded to him passively and sipped the water, giving the human time to recover. Ze'ev closed his eyes, letting his mind wander off into the visions that occurred. He felt peaceful evermore and lowered his head, breathing in and out calmly. He appeared to be meditating almost, and Evans was intrigued, asking him if he was doing so, to which Ze'ev gave off a polite nod. The Spartan nodded and thought to him-self, tapping his chin, and then looked to Solitude.

"Hey little buddy," Evans began quietly, "You downloaded the data from my helmet, right?"

"Yes I did!" Solitude chirped happily, "It was quite bland however!"

Evans cocked his eyebrow, "Yeah well, it was not meant for you. Anyways--wanna do me a solid?"

"A--solid? This request is denied out of my uncertainty as to what you want." Solitude replied quickly, "your colloquialisms have always confused me, but I am interested in learning what this means!"

"What I mean is--uggh--play me some music, please."

"What is the specified file?"

"Start with Kamal. Play Quiet Earth, Tides of time, please."

Ze'ev had opened his eyes at the mention of the word music, an ancient human custom he had never witnessed or understood. But he was interested now why the human had suddenly suggested it. Solitude lingered for a moment, and then it began to play.

There was a soft blowing of wind, he presumed a field recording, and he sat his rear back against the control panel and listened. The wind seemed to fade left and right--until the sudden striking of an object, and it faded away. Then slowly--a sound began to emanate from the surrounding walls, a climbing and descending series of tones on two apparatus that sent a shiver through his veins and flesh. He had never in his fifty years of existence heard a tone that communicated sadness and peace simultaneously.

"What--what is this." Ze'ev whispered as he sat forward, his eyes widening as his mouth almost hung open. He brushed his hand over his head and felt at his heart, as this feeling of ecstasy had begun to effloresce through him.

"Oh--uh, this is some music by Thom Brennan." Evans answered slowly, nervous by the Elite's behavior now.

Sporadic impulses of a celestial, high frequency hum seemed to decorate the repeating tones; as if space had breathed into him, or the nebula had been sublimated. He felt ebullient with a level of joy and peace that never in his life had he experienced, as more sounds filled his hungry, naked ears. They ascended and descended, singing to him as shivers washed over his skin and at his eyes, tears had begun to crawl down his cheeks. The celestial breaths deepened in pitch and he fell to his knees with them, staggered by the awesome experience of this unnatural combination of tones.

He wrapped his arms around him-self as the strange tones repeated as they had done before, with the trickling sounds of the oceans that reminded him of his home world. As this file had neared its completely, ten minutes later, the next file seemed to seamlessly play from the last one congruently. A new series of tones, like the tapping of wood gave way to a steady, ataraxia inducing experience. High pitched, scintillating tones, like the singing of stars decorated the file, and the reverberating, bubbling tones made his brain recall the beautiful landscapes he had grown up around.

As the music shifted in tones and layer, so did he sway, and sob gently as he clung to these nostalgic memories. He did not know what he would call this that he listened to, but if anything; it was the ancient lore of rebirth, transmuted into sound. He heard a quiet laughter so oddly placed, it resembled that of a child, and he gasped loudly as it stung his heart with memories of his own childhood. Time had then begun to fade, and an hour passed before the album had come to its close; without wasting a moment, Ze'ev hungrily choose the next album before him, christen as "Shamanic Healing." And just as before, these alien tones and landscapes of sound brought his soul into a resplendent universe, where all his past, and troubles, had seemingly vanished.

"Human--human, this music--I am without words!" Ze'ev replied almost as if he had just awakened from a coma. His voice was slow, low even, as if he were under the influence of a soporific. He thanked Evans for this, and Evans, who was still captivated by this behavior, nodded to him.

"It is fine--I guess you've never heard it before. It might not be much, but you can have my collection, as thanks for saving me."

Ze'ev looked down at his hands and closed his eyes, "I am sorry for the loss of your team--I had not expected any of this to happen. I however am grateful for this exchange--thank you, Evans."

Evans gave a confident, "Spartans never die, didn't ya know? I'll be fine, even if I am kind of--stuck here. I got you keeping me company, anyways!"

Ze'ev fell silent and did not reply immediately, and Evans studied his face, seeing that he visibly distraught. Evans remembered that when he and his team had entered the fray in the beginning, they had fought before the covenant emerged. He apologized quietly, but Ze'ev stopped him, holding up his hand and reminded him that the event would have unfolded in much the same way without their presence. They fell silent as they grieved for their lost ones, and Evans sighed quietly under his breath, wondering where he'd be now if he had never gone with them. But he brushed that longing aside and moved up to sit beside the Elite, deciding to pass his reservations aside.

"I have a duty to stop that guy, like you do." Evans looked over to the Elite, "But if my friend looks even half as sad as you do, it is my job to make sure they're all right."

"Friend?" Ze'ev spoke in surprise, sharply turning his eyes up as this word was almost foreign in its connection to him. "You consider me one?"

"Well I have to. You saved my life, offered me water, and aren't even going to hold me prisoner!" The human laughed with more ease, "So all in all, you seem like a nice guy."

Ze'ev nodded unsurely, "I have fought many battles, and predicted many movements of my enemies. You however--are very different from how I imagined a human to behave."

Evans laughed proudly and leaned back against the railing, shivering again and gripped his fists tightly. Ze'ev asked him again if he wanted something to ease the pain, but Evans told him "Fuck no," and demanded they continue to move. They traveled down the right side of the generator tunnel and conversed more casually with one another; they discussed previous battles, customs. Evans described types of food to Ze'ev that, based off his fervor, Ze'ev felt almost little in comparison as the culinary skills of his species were neglected. He was told of dishes that were combinations of textures and flavors that seemed almost alchemical at best that even made him begin to salivate.

He briefly touched on movies, and when he described the story lines to them, Ze'ev could not resist laughing at the atrocity of the literature that was created! A film was described amidst the laughter of Evans, who struggled to express a plot line to a film described as a "black comedy" which Evans had to further explain. As he reenacted scenes verbally, Solitude was almost in a tantrum at the need to document and catalogue these films; he wondered why the forerunners never did so! Ze'ev heard rumors of other films of atrociously bad acting, and his eyes remained wide in shock as he learned aspects of human culture that were indescribably bizarre.

From the hundreds of rituals celebrated yearly, to rites of passage that bordered on being redundant, he noted the celebratory style of humanity. He thought back to his own planet briefly and their short existence. He expressed to Evans the many styles of combat that his species developed, and Evans demanded to be taught them, in exchange for promising to show the elite a bad movie. Ze'ev was confused by this arrangement, but Evans explained he would laugh at the atrocity of the film, but Ze'ev could not comprehend the tradition.

"This exchange does not sound fair," Ze'ev mentioned with a laugh, "A terrible tale, in exchange for combat tactics?"

"No. Laughter, in exchange for combat tactics!" Evans corrected him, "Laughter extends your lifespan, didn't you know?"

? ? ?

When it had been over ten hours of travel, they settled down in an enclosed Research Sector that was dedicated to Botanical Observations. You could still smell the essence of plat life, and in various windows were overgrown foliage that could survive the cold; dried vines, and hanging roots made certain tunnels verdant, and impassable. Evans was immediate in securing the perimeter, instructing where they would move in the case they were attacked. He did not know how or when Eyth 'Kha might make his move, or if he was anywhere remotely near; Ze'ev did not risk this. They settled in a large steel room with virtually no lighting that was to the east side; it seemed to have been abandoned in the middle of the night.

Heat was not to be found, and Evans lay out his sleeping away from the doors, across from Ze'ev's after he ate more of the strange food that the Elite provided. Solitude provided light for them to dine, and the soft music that had not since stopped playing; when it came time to sleep, Evans was more hesitant. The cold was miserable to him, but he covered him-self up to his ears and doubled it under his feet.

Man this guy is fucking enormous, Evans thought to him-self as he looked him over. I mean fuck me running, he's got some serious quads--damn, man.

Evans moved onto his elbow as he studied over the musculature with attention to the creases the cloak made to his bulky appendage. His arms were beyond thick, and though he seemed relaxed, the triceps were cut, and his shoulders were very well sculpted. If this were a normal guy, he'd be all over that in a heartbeat. He turned his eyes off of him when Ze'ev had moved to his bedding, and lay down flat on his back.

"Z," Evans began, "Can I ask you something? It might seem personal--if you don't want to answer, that is fine."

Ze'ev nodded once, "What do you wish to know?"

"Well," Evans looked over as he lay on his right shoulder. "I just want to know why you look so different. Are there different races of Sangheili?"

Ze'ev opened his eyes and frowned at the corners of his mouth, breathing slowly but held his gaze at the ceiling. He did not wish to divulge the information to Evans, and lied that he was a part of a different race of Sangheili, fabricating that their skin was darker. When Evans asked him why he had never seen one before, Ze'ev lied that their under armor sometimes hid the colors of their flesh, to make them uniform under the covenant's control. Evans further more asked about the Covenant, and Ze'ev regretted provoking his curiosity, and simply compared the Covenant to an Eclipse of Freedom that they were what crushed, and killed his people.

"So a 'heretic' is just a freedom fighter."

"Freedom Fighter--yes, I like that term." Ze'ev confessed, "It sounds less pervasive than Heretic. Thank you Evans."

"Hey, no problem. Cultural exchange, you know?" Evans chuckled a bit and rolled onto his back, yawning, and then closed his eyes. He drifted off into sleep not long after, whilst Ze'ev took longer to sleep, as his mind wandered.

"Ze'ev," Solitude leaned down beside his face, showering him in a light green hue. "Do you feel comfortable, lying to Evans?"

"Silence!" Ze'ev ordered him immediately in a harsh whisper.

"On the topic of your biology, I do not find it prudent to lie." Solitude scolded him, "I may not perceive feelings--but lying can cause distrust."

Ze'ev grumbled and turned his face away, muttering under his breath, "It is a shame that is not to be shared. How did you even know, Solitude?"

"I have no information on you but I am fully versed on every species in this galaxy. And your genetic makeup indicates that--"

"Enough!" Ze'ev growled threateningly.

Solitude lingered for a moment but then floated away, and Ze'ev was left to close his eyes, and finally drift seamlessly into the world of sleep.

He rolled on his shoulders periodically as he fought to attain a restful sleep, still drained from the night before; it was almost a pleading cry to his brain to calm it-self from the visions, and conversations that took place. Periods of unconsciousness were the most blissful, until he became more and more aroused by the old memories that still tormented him. The memories did not play back scene by scene--he was instead given the vague hallucinations and impressions of what occurred. He felt the fear and anger he felt the day that his position was overthrown by Eyth 'Kha which led to his imprisonment. Blackness paraded behind his eyelids, while in a space above his head--as if fleetingly suspended over where he slept, he could feel and sense the horribly dread of his past.

Ze'ev fell backwards in time as various faces would flicker in the dark space of his mind like a candle; wide eyes of enemies that seemed to chase him as he tumbled through the gulf of dreams. He twisted around to end up behind where he had been standing, as if in a dark forest. In the distance he saw a bizarre figure of great deformation, one of his own, subjected to the flood's infection. It turned to look at him, and he felt him-self thrown forwards in time and lay on his back, staring up at the bloated, ebony body as it towered over him like a colossus.

Cries of terror were attempted and Ze'ev could feel the half-reality of being asleep, but not able to wake up. A cold sweat washed over his flesh and his heart beat faster, but the weary dreams had not released their cruel grip from him. He felt his arms attempt to shield him from the arms of the beast that clawed away at him, the familiar face of it staining his closed eyes.

Ze'ev weakly muttered. Another wave of dreams with great impulsion had sent him back to where he originally had slept for so many months prior. He felt a heaving of nostalgia that froze his nerves as he lay on his bedding, succumbed to a great fear and grief. Before him on the floor was the frozen carcass of a deceased kin, and when Ze'ev lifted his face up to view it entirely, it was gone. The floor turned into the roof, as he now lowered his head from it in a state of nausea-inducing vertigo. Physically it was like being thrown into space, spinning, falling and levitating with your organs attempted to freely drift inside.

There was a strange light from across the room that he could not place, and he fell forwards, landing near it. He looked up and could see a vaporous body behind it, with two more approaching at a slow pace. He attempted to communicate with them and tried to stand, but he suddenly fell onto his back with a roar of thunder that deafened his ears. He fought with trembling hands to try and roll over, struggling with his legs to free him-self; fog began to consume all that he saw, a deep charcoal mist that obfuscated his eyes, and induced tears. It was uncontrollable as they formed at his eyes and streamed past his eyelids, down his cheeks and onto the foam bedding. He felt the avulsion of a feeling of protection that was cold and in his chest, drifting up wards, and his eyes partially opened now.

Hypnagogia had left him paralyzed as he could faintly make out the shape of the room he lay in; but he did not recognize it, not sure if he had still been in his dreams. Green light was blurry and geometric from the tears that resided in his eyes, and he saw now the looming, monstrous aphotic shadow that stood at the base of his feet. He tried to shield his eyes but fear restricted the movement of his arm, and he moaned out in fear, a slow, animalistic cry from primordial terror! Then he saw it--in that single cataclysm of horrid memory he witnessed the most gruesome of murders that he had ever encountered. As if seen from a foggy window, he watched as Skae cried out in a shrilling agony while he was disemboweled; Ze'ev felt the weight of hands holding him back, and he screamed out for someone to help him! He shouted and cried in devastation, begging them to stop but it had been too late; the smell of blood was so real now, and his own body perceived his life was in danger, alerting Evans through wails of fear!

Evans shot up, his eyes opening wide as he heard an alien cry from the dark! He retrieved his weapon and held it up, jumping onto one knee, panicking for a moment. He saw nothing within the room save for the green glow of Solitude, who from above, politely informed Evans that Ze'ev was suffering from a nightmare. He saw the elite to his left, struggling and trembling at the lips, and he quickly moved over to him to wake him up.

"Z, Ze'ev! Wake up man!" Evans grabbed the Elite by his shoulder, shaking him several times as the alien continued to cry out into the dark room. It grew louder and more painful to hear as it was unlike anything he had before heard, and Evans shook him more fiercely, nearly yelling at him! Ze'ev finally opened his eyes wide and he shot up instantly and grasped at Evans by the wrist with a vice grip and he pant as he came to.

"Calm down buddy, you were having a nightmare." Evans assured him quietly. He could see the male was shaking, and he heard Ze'ev mutter something incoherently as he returned to a partial state of consciousness. Evans retracted his arm and then pushed Ze'ev back down by the shoulder; this wasn't the first time he had to deal with someone having night terrors. After their augmentations, many of his original team Stigma had suffered from nightmares for days after.

Ze'ev faintly spoke under his breath, and Evans disregarded it and told him to just go back to bed, promising that he'll stay up if it will help him feel better; Ze'ev thanked him, but only in a whisper. He felt weak and trivial, staring at the dark metallic roof silently; he looked over at the human who was sitting up with his arms on his knees. Ze'ev closed his eyes and kindly asked Solitude to play him music, and he obliged, continuing from the sounds of rain where they had left off previously.

That poor guy--fuck knows what he has been through. Shit--after today, I wouldn't doubt that he's seen more than me. After what that fucker did to my team, I'll murder that son of a bitch--just need to make sure Z over there doesn't have a panic attack.

"Evans," Ze'ev began under his breath.

"Yeah Z?" Evans replied, "You ok?"

Ze'ev nodded once and sighed through his lips, his mandibles shivering very slightly. "I am fine--but the persistence of these dreams is attenuating my resolve."

"Reoccurring nightmare?" Evans said unsurely, and Ze'ev nodded, proceeding to sit up, and then lay against the wall, unable to sleep just yet. He looked over to the human, suggesting for him instead sleep for which Evans refused to, until he knew Ze'ev would be all right.

"I feel utterly embarrassed by this--it is dishonoring to me, to be so easily subdued by my own fear." Ze'ev scoffed at him-self in disdain and rubbed his hand along his face. It felt almost as if he had been back in that room, chained to the wall--months had passed, and he forgot how torturous it was. He dared not tell the human about this circumstance, though he also felt an odd level of trust in the human. He was too kind.

"Z, these kinds of things happen." Evans tried to calm him down, "Not everyone is a hundred percent intrepid. If I didn't have someone like you here right now--I'd be scared shitless man. I mean look at this place--something out of a horror movie!"

"That is not a film I would enjoy seeing." Ze'ev muttered, "I appreciate your words--Evans, I do. It has been a long time since I experienced benevolence."

"Really? Why is that, man?"

Ze'ev frowned deeply and shook his head, "It is nothing of importance. We have a great deal of walking ahead of us--good night Evans, thank you."

Ze'ev immediately moved down to sleep, rolling onto his side and placed his back against the wall, closing his eyes tightly. Evans wondered what was wrong with him, but he decided to ignore it for now and he relaxed onto his back. Ze'ev did not sleep for some time, and at one point he felt the staggering paranoia of being watched in the dark room. He had lifted his head up, glancing past Solitude to see if there was something perhaps lurking--but he could see only the faint visage of the room. Deciding he would drive him-self mad, Ze'ev forced him-self into an unpleasant sleep.