Overcompensating (Halo SI) by Ore0man

A Guilty Spark sı it's a interesting idea

Words: 18k+

Link:

https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/16770

Part 1

I thought it was a really elaborate dream at first. Waking up as what was once 343 Guilty Spark was pretty rad. But after like the first 10 minutes of zipping around and not shoving my cyber dick into THICK Cortana, I figured something was up. I blame the whole not having physical sensation behind me being so slow on the uptake. I blasted some poor innocent sentinels with my badass eye laser for shits and giggles then decided I could have some real fun with this.

Based on Spark's internal clock and some quick maths, it's maybe a thousand years or so before the Covenant decide to use their oversized magnifying glasses to roast the human race. Unfortunately for humanity, while the Forerunners couldn't program against acts of space gods or possibly insane AI, they were pretty spot on when it came to keeping their shit where they wanted, well, when the Flood weren't involved.

Spark's, and now mine, responsibilities are to monitor (heh) the secondary activities of Installation 04. I can't be sure if his almost maniacal adherence to protocol was programmed in or just his own personality built over his millennia of solitude. All I know is I seem to have a lot of wiggle room. I can't get the ring to go anywhere because it's already in its predetermined firing location, but everything else is fair game. Honestly, the disparity between how different each Forerunner AI behaved can only be explained by their insanity. Spark could've hit the big red button at any time, he just refused to do so without a Reclaimer because they told him that was a no no. I think I remember one Monitor just ignoring everything, probably took up gardening or some shit.

Amazingly, in my admittedly short life as a floating super intelligent orb, I already contributed more to the Final Solution than any of the dumb fucks before me by simply sterilizing the fuck out of the research and containment facilities, ejecting the ring sections containing said facilities, and chucking the remains through a slipspace portal close enough to the sun to get dragged in eventually. You would think after the first couple thousand years even the dumbest calculator would have computed that they weren't getting any closer to a cure. Better to not have even a single spore of the sentient zombie fungus around.

After cleaning up my bitchin' space ring, I remembered about the gas mining platforms floating around Threshold that the Forerunners, in their infinite wisdom, also turned into Flood research facilities. 04 and the other death rings have some handy tools capable of fucking with anything within a light year, so shoving the platforms down into the atmosphere to get crushed by gravity was easier than my ex. Damn, I don't even have brain chemistry and I'm still salty.

Now, most would probably despair about basically being confined to a singular location in space with no means of emotional fulfillment in the form of other humans, waiting for inevitable death or insanity. But it only took me like three days to realize that was my previous existence already, so nothing really changed. If anything, I would say this is a significant improvement. Check out my new house, check out this fucking teleporter, oh look a library of every organic being in a 25,000 light year radius, cloning technology, and this fancy composer process.

The plan is simple. Infiltrate the dealer, find the suppl-

Wait, no. Engineer a badass body, get pussy. I have a thousand or so years to fill out the rest. Then my thicc dommy mommy will get hand delivered to me. Shit, I have to engineer a body for her too. And to have it just right, I'm going to have to wait for her organic equivalent to be born so I can get a sample. Which means I have to watch humanity and not troll the fu- I mean not interfere. Ha! This plan is writing itself, I don't have to worry about shit.

The hardest part will be remaining undiscovered, really. There's nothing physically keeping me confined to the ring. Once I get the sections I yeeted repaired, I can split some attention to designing Super Stealth Ship Supreme. Matte black required. The temptation for space cuttlefish is so high it's painful. I'll shelve that for later, plenty of time, though I do hope to be there in time for the signing of the Declaration. And watching the Brits get that ass beat. And maybe if I hurry I can accidentally bump a meteor on course to fix Taylor Lautner's face. It'll be my apology for not being able to stop the Covenant from ever forming.

It's true that I could go fuck with them instead, but barely operational or not, I'm not about to fuck around anywhere close to a Contender-class. I could try a cheeky snipe from a system or five over, but I'm not 100% on how their Luminaries function. The Forerunners neutered the Monitors' ability to interact with other facilities, one of their smarter moves if I'm being honest. The Monitor on 05 couldn't call for help, but it also couldn't bone other Ancilla with cyber AIDS. If Mendicant Bias can get talked into murdering his creators by a mushroom he knows is out to assimilate all, then I'm glad I'm not able to open a text packet and suddenly decide I really like green fleshy growths all over my shiny new ring.

That said, I do know where I can access at least two Shield Worlds nearby. Onyx in eventual UNSC space, which is figuratively down the street from me, and Shield 0459. While I have no clue where it actually is, I do know some facility on Arcadia can point the way. Huh, now that I think about it, even if the Covenant's Luminaries hadn't labeled all humans Reclaimer for the Prophets to see, they still would've been fucked. Basically every UNSC planet that wasn't immediately glassed had Forerunner structures, ships, or convenient rocks with star maps that point the way to more places for the Covenant to glass. I guess there's one way that I can help. It might be counter intuitive, but if I spread around random shit that shows up on their scanners on every human inhabited planet, it'd actually slow down the whole "you get a glassing beam and you get a glassing beam and you get a glassing beam."

Enough planning though, time to give myself a monster co- I mean engineer a perfect body, a masterpiece of synthetic and flesh, the pinnacle of evolution, the means for which to deliver heaven unto the perfect woman. Ignore her physical age, the fact she's like 5 or whatever at the time of arrival is just a technicality.