“You are my children,” I whisper, and they respond in many tongues. I am ready now. I know they will not lie to me. They will tell me what they were told, and I will know the truth of it, or not. “I listen, Forthencho.”

He struggles to give voice to so many alien thoughts—in the language he knows, using the words he is familiar with. “The Precursors lived in many shapes, flesh and spirit, primitive and advanced, spacefaring and locked to their worlds … Evolved over and over again, died away, were reborn, explored, and seeded many galaxies … This I was told. I understand little.

“We are your children, Librarian. But we are also their children. And what they learned across many billions of years they stored in this galaxy. We do not know where. The Gravemind tells us something impossible to understand—that most of what has been gathered comes from before there were stars. We do not believe in such a time, but the Mind insists … The life-patterns and living wisdom of a hundred billion years.

“They tell me the immense field projected by this reserve is known to Forerunners, was once accessed by them. Is that so, Librarian?”

The Domain! I tell myself. He is describing the Domain. Could that possibly be true? The Domain was created by Precursors?

Forthencho’s Warriors clamor hoarsely. Their decaying hands reach out to stroke my armor, touch me directly, touch my flesh. I do not withdraw. I reach out to the crumbling cheek of the Lord of Admirals.

“I’m listening,” I tell him.

“The Gravemind no more understands the whole truth than we do. It is past all our understanding, from the greatest to the smallest. This reserve was wrapped in Precursor architecture, protected for many billions of years. Out there.” He lifts his arm and points to the bright blue sky. “Perhaps if there were enough time, we could find it. But when the Halos are fired, not only will sentient life across the galaxy vanish, but all that knowledge will vanish as well. The greatest treasure of all will be destroyed.”

The Organon! The Domain is the Organon!

A wonderful truth, about to be turned by Forerunners into an awful truth. And not far away, outside the circle, Catalog is listening, to this accusation, this testimony regarding what may be the greatest crime of all.

If the Halos fire, we will kill our own soul!

“I will send a message,” I tell Forthencho.

His lips crack as he attempts to laugh. “You don’t understand me, Librarian. The effects of Halo radiation are already felt.”

I stare around the circle of wretched humans. I refuse to accept this.

Lord of Admirals holds up both of his hands, holding on to me, then lets go and falls to his knees. He tries to smile. Blood streams from the cracked corners of his lips. Not a kind smile. Like the grin of a wolf.