Halo Artbook Novels & Stories

Strange energies lingered in the air that made the place feel so magical. As they passed through several shelves, Arth was amazed by the thousands of old books around him. Even the entire wall had been built with shelves that extended up towards the high ceiling. One would need a ladder to get into the higher sections. Looking up, a huge chandelier hung from the high ceiling. But then Arth furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed the ceiling painted with different symbolisms; weapons, people, animals, and more … but they’d been all dominated by a triangular symbol at the center.

His pristine silver robes were shredded, revealing the soot-stained skin of a smith underneath. ​"The medical pods on the moon... they were cages, Elara," Harl whispered, kneeling by my fused legs. "They didn't cure us. They just... filed us down. I saw the archives. The Surgeons didn't want a backup drive. They wanted a 'perfect' specimen they could copy until the original didn't matter anymore." ​"Did you... bring the Ledger?" I asked, my eyes tracking his movement. ​Harl pulled the scorched, lead-bound book from his belt. "I kept it. It’s the only thing that’s real. The rest of it—the silver towers, the 'refined' life—it was all just a high-frequency hallucination."