1801 HOURS, NOVEMBER 15, 2554 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)
HALO INSTALLATION: SIRCA--QOPPAN HIGHLANDS--Q-BASE

His reaction was as immediate as it was explosive. Tysiac's hands slammed onto the table, and a string of curses roared from his mouth. The mining lamps rattled against the walls from the force of his physical exertion.

Of all things that could have been added to the situation, an Index and a human carrying it in obedience to Omega was perhaps the second worst to hear.

The Chupadores all jumped at his outburst. Church and Tucker looked like the Spartan nearly scared the shit out of them as Nelson looked mildly impressed and cautious as she muttered, "Fuck. That's a first."

Tysiac breathed after he exhausted himself as he clenched his fists. Wash's expression was unnerved as he demanded, "Care to explain what the fuck that was about?"

Even Bethany wasn't ready at the sudden reaction as Tysiac growled, "I know exactly what that device is... But just to be sure it's exactly what I'm afraid of, Wash: Finish your report."

Wash fell silent, the other Chupadores still watching the Spartan closely. After a while, he replied, "It's a key to a device in Kaprime that intercepted House Correspondence was calling the 'Great Cleansing'."

And that was it. Tysiac let a snide, humorless laugh, "Great Cleansing. Then it's what I was afraid of." The Spartan leaned forwards onto the dented table as he explained, "It's more than just a key. That is called an 'Activation Index', and it's not going to a fancy weapon or some gadget, but it's a key to the Control Room."

The room grew deathly quiet as Wash was hesitant, "Control Room? To what?"

"Sirca itself." Tysiac answered, "The details may have been kept vague on purpose because I doubt Omega would've had anyone willingly follow along if they knew."

"The fuck are you talking about, pasted tin can?" Nelson demanded as Tysiac came around to where Trevor and Wash were, pulling out a holographic data slate from his satchel. To the surprise of Trevor, within a few taps, Tysiac was able to connect his slate wirelessly into the computer terminal, the screens soon shifting and displaying the ONI logo.

Within moments, windows of data came to fill the screens as Tysiac pulled up files on the Halo Array. The first thing he pulled up was the images of the massive ringworlds, all drifting in the backdrop of stars and planets, their locations absent and redacted from the screens. The Spartan's voice became low and deliberate as he started, "I'll have to give you context over the Index and the Control Room. But first, anyone care to tell me if these ringworlds look familiar?"

Constance was the first to murmur as the War Room was drawn to utter silence at seeing the images, "Those... those are... None of them can be Sicra, none of planets are right..."

"They are not Sirca." Tysiac said with a sharp nod, "But they are the same ringworlds as Sirca. Same construction, same creators. They're called Halos, or collectively, they are the Halo Array."

Tysiac tapped with the data slate and had the screens go over the details on the ringworlds. Though their locations, of course, were redacted, "The Halo Array is a network of seven, colossal, ring-shaped megastructures. However, Sirca appears to be separate from the Array itself. Regardless, they are equally as capable of acting as habitation zones, as your species have done so. But their primary purpose? Galactic Superweapons."

The ONI Spartan gave a small gesture towards Wash, "I've been hearing how there's some rumors or myths and stories that the House spreads that Omega made Sirca, but I can tell you he never did, nor would he even have been capable of doing so. Their true creators were an ancient, exceedingly advanced species. So advanced that they were mistaken for gods. Each of these Installations had multiple functions, from research facilities, containment zones, and yes as I said, habitation."

Samael, the grey Chupadore that had been working closely with Nelson, leaned against the back of the chair a little as he asked nervously, "So... We've been living on a giant space weapon that blows things up?"

Before Tysiac could respond, Grif leaned back against the wall and smirked, "Sounds like Samael's rigged to blow," he quipped.

Tucker grinned, unable to resist, "Yeah, just like your mother!"

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to Tysiac's darkened expression as both Chupadores high-fived in their humor. Without a word, the Spartan strode over to Grif, grabbing him by his fur and collar in one swift motion.

"Thank you, Private Dexter Grif," Tysiac said icily, his tone dripping with mock politeness as Grif complained and tried to scrabble against the ground and walls, "Your contribution has been valued. You are dismissed."

With that, he hurled Grif out of the room with enough force to send him skidding across the mine's dirt floor. Grif groaned audibly from the hallway.

Tysiac stared at the prone Chupa before he turned his glare to Tucker, who threw up his hands in surrender, "Hey, I'll chill! No more jokes, I swear!"

Bethany shook her head as the immature humor between Grif and Tucker had relaxed some of her internal stress. She kept her eye on Tysiac as he made his way back to the table.

Tysiac shook his head, "It doesn't blow things up, Samael. The primary weapon system activates by channeling energy to the center of the ring." He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "That energy builds to a critical point, then emits a supermassive pulsar--an energy wave so vast, it eradicates all sentient and organic life within a 25,000 light-year radius."

That brought the weight of Tysiac's knowledge down on the War Room again. Nelson's face contorted between shock and disgust. Even with her constant critical and grizzled background, the leader of Q-Base found herself momentarily speechless before she muttered, "You've gotta be shitting me... Who builds fucking things like that?"

Bethany, Constance and Tucker didn't fare much better in their responses as Tysiac watched every Chupadore's reaction. Samael's fur bristled, his voice in a hushed tremor, "That's... if there's seven of them... That's the entire galaxy..."

Church's eyes were wider, even as he visibly tried to play it cool, but Tysiac could tell this was very well unsettling as the pale Werewolf muttered, "Y-y'know... Suddenly being a werewolf isn't being a big problem anymore..."

Tysiac nodded to Samael's words, "You're correct, Samael. And they are situated where they overlap to kill the entire galaxy. I'll tell you what I can with the reason why these were created in the very first place."

He tapped at his data slate again, and with a few confirmations and authentications, the Spartan pulled up a few redacted files on a few of the screens. The titles were completely scrubbed and their classification tags blinked in yellow and red. Tysiac glanced towards Constance, both memories of the Human Constance and the Chupadore's complaints about Bethany's secrecy coming to mind.

Tysiac was right to glance at Constance, as she narrowed her eyes at the sight of the redacted and censored data. However, he needed to re-focus. Now wasn't the time to get paranoid.

"During the time period that we're still uncertain and cannot pin down yet, the ancient species I had mentioned earlier was under an existential threat. This happened even before either of our species existed outside of primitive tribes. But the threat that was faced was something that was impossible to stop conventionally. Because this was an infestation, a biological plague the likes of which devastated the galaxy and according to our records, wiped out entire species."

Ominous Forerunner glyphs, pictures of blobs of the Flood biomasses and grainy, corrupted images of twisted corpses reanimated into grotesque silhouettes appeared on the screens as Tysiac continued, "The Halo Array wasn't made to be weapons of conquest or domination, but rather meant to starve the infestation, removing its food source. Because the ancient civilization had discovered there was literally no other way."

The room remained silent as the Chupadores digested over the information the ONI Spartan gave. Nelson was the first to respond after a while, crossing her arms. Her skepticism was written all over her face as she retorted, "You're making it more and more like a campfire horror story, pale tin can. How the hell's a plague so damn bad these 'ancient civilization' shits needed to push the galaxy's biggest reset button to fix it?"

"Because it's not a mere pandemic, Nelson." Tysiac responded with a pointed look, "This wasn't some fever to sweat it out. It's not something that just kills you, it rewrites you. Both the living and dead."

He locked eyes with the paraplegic Chupadore as he pressed, "It takes your body, your mind, your knowledge and your memories."

The Spartan tapped and slid a finger on the data slate before the image of one grotesque Flood Combat Form appeared, using a Jackal's energy shield that was haphazardly attached to its stomach while it held a M41 SPNKr Rocket Launcher in a twisted and contorted hand, the other arm having nothing but razor-sharp and organic whips of bone. And it was riding side passenger in a nearly wrecked Warthog, its engine on fire but still functioning with another Combat Form driving the vehicle. Their faces were barely recognizable as faces and were held limply, as if the head served no necessary function.

That alone was enough to make the Chupadores recoil as even Church began to pale.

Tucker looked like he was about to throw up on the spot, "... T-tell me that's photoshop..." He weakly complained.

York wasn't as visceral on his reaction, but Tysiac could tell it opened his eyes to quite a lot as the bare-chested Chupadore muttered, "Fuck, I'm gonna have nightmares..."

Constance had visibly recoiled at the sight as she nearly hissed, "Those things can drive and use weapons..."

Wash was barely holding onto his demeanor, but he slowly asked, "How... how fast do they spread...?"

Tysiac didn't answer right away. His eyes locked onto Wash's, calculating as the other Chupadores were still unable to look away at the image of the Flood's sunday driving. It wasn't just tactical but a personal question. Between both Wash and the Chupadores, as well as Tysiac and ONI.

Finally, with an answer that the Spartan could give, "There are classified accounts where a ship was lost in under twelve minutes. Sealed compartments. Veteran soldiers. Fire suppression and full lockdowns. None of it mattered. Twelve minutes, and the ship itself was under the infestation's control, its crew consumed and puppeteered. That's why the Halos were created in a last ditch effort."

Tysiac gave the Chupadores relief by removing the images of the Flood from the screens, breaking them out of their horrified trances as the Spartan continued, "That's why I reacted, Wash. Because despite how the Halo Array, and Sirca, are able to wipe out all life, it requires a full procedure in order to do it. Primarily, the retrieval and possession of the Index." His eyes locked onto Wash, "To which your correspondence just revealed has already happened."

Wash's eyes turned to the Spartan as he slowly spoke, "... Which means Omega's already on his way to kill us all."

The Spartan nodded. He shifted on his armored feet, "There's still time to stop it. If the charging sequence begins, removing the Index halts the entire process. But in order to do so, we need to find the 'Control Room'. Normally, that starts with the 'Silent Cartographer', a central map archive that pinpoints every major facility on the ring."

Nelson was the first to speak up, after the lengthy silence reigned over the War Room, her tone even and not having as much cynical bite with the revelations, "How... Do we know that the House would willingly fire this thing on Sirca? Omega's been running his slaughter parade for fuck-all how long, so why the change of plans?"

Part of Tysiac supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by Nelson questioning something like this. Thankfully, he knew well enough of reasons that could slot right into it, "Religious fanaticism tends to disregard being sensible. They may view the 'Cleansing' as an ascension, a means to become gods. Or they believe that it's selective, only the non-believers are erased. Given the religion on Omega, it's the kind of belief system that makes logic optional, and mass extinction acceptable."

Constance and York had variable reactions to Tysiac's words, with York raising an eyebrow while Constance leaned forwards. As much as Tysiac delighted that she was picking things up, it was equally frustrating she was prying as she spoke up, "You're a lot more familiar with fanaticism than you're telling us..."

"That 'Covenant' you talked about back at L-Base. Those aliens that your species were at war against." York piped up, leaning back as he crossed his arms, "I'ma guess they found out about these 'Halos', and they didn't think any better, right?"

Nelson and a few of the other Chupadores besides Wash, Constance and Bethany looked between York and Tysiac, their expressions varying from interest and intrigue. Wash and Bethany themselves were starting to connect the dots as well, as Bethany stared at Tysiac with slightly widened eyes.

The ONI Spartan scowled a little as he had to respond to their words. Much as he wanted to curse the two for being so attentive, part of him couldn't blame them either, "... Yes... The Covenant believed activating the Halos would grant salvation. The 'Great Journey' they called it. They were more than wrong. And I'm already pushing the limits of what I'm allowed to tell you as it is."

Tysiac fell silent again before muttering under his breath, "ONI wouldn't want you knowing any of this, or any further than this. But if we don't act, there won't be a Sirca to debrief."

Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.