Halo Novels & Stories

A futuristic design, as lethal as it is beautiful. Calum whistles. Calum Beauchamp: Should I send word to the mainland, Your Grace? Halo Noel: Not until those girls are on a plane to Arlingfell, Mr Beauchamp. In one Swift movement, Halo holsters the rifle behind him. The magnetic mechanism whirs dimly, and the perforated muzzle glows a bright blue then darkens. Halo turns to the right of the cabin, where the emergency exit blinks. Calum checks his own tech gauntlet, eyes scanning the numbers.

The cool breeze that drifted across the ocean at night ruffled my clothes, and I could taste the tangy mist of ocean spray on my tongue. When the glowing faded, Aralia stood proud. Her skin now had this silvery glow to it, like she had been dipped in liquid moonlight. She was beaming with joy, and Atlas was just—standing there. All at once, everyone in the ballroom knelt. A singular sound of everyone bowing, heads down and knees bent. “From the Hellion rivers in the North, with their healing waters to the oceans that surround our world. Rejoice, High Lady Aralia, ruler of the Water Court.”

"Eniola, bring up the rear. Jump!" ​They launched into the freezing void. ​The sensation of the HALO jump was entirely different from the drop over Marseille. They weren't just falling; they were flying, their carbon-fiber wings catching the dense, stormy air and transforming their descent into a high-speed horizontal glide. The wind shrieked against Lyra’s visor as she tracked the tiny, flashing green marker on her heads-up display. ​The offshore platform materialized out of the gloom like a jagged, industrial mountain of steel and iron. It was a massive, three-tiered structure, illuminated by harsh industrial floodlights that cut through the driving rain.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Lawson. It was an emergency, so we drew roughly 150 mL of your blood. How are you feeling now?" Before he could finish, Andre hurriedly handed me some health supplements he had bought earlier. "Cynthia, pick anything you like and take a bit right away!" I waved him off. "It's fine. I just got up too quickly and felt a bit dizzy, but I'm okay now." Vera clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Cynthia, I'm telling you, don't push yourself in this situation." She sneered. "Do you really believe they only drew 150 mL? I don't! They're definitely lying to you!"

Child of shadow and light. She who carries both shall rise… The Hallow surges. A pulse of dark energy slams through the cabin, rattling the windows, shaking dust from the rafters. Jason stumbles, grabbing the wall. “Brad...what the hell was that?!” I exhale slowly. “The Hallow,” I murmur. “It knows.” Jason’s voice cracks. “Knows what?” “That she’s the One.” The shadows coil tighter, swirling around my feet, eager, restless, alive. Jason swallows hard. “What does the Hallow want with her?”

--- SCENE 2: CODE NAME – HALO POV: Eli Navarro | Location: Naomi's Apartment Vault | Time: 9:12 AM Eli unlocked the second part of the USB Naomi left behind. A program opened. Titled: HALO. A message blinked. > “What if I told you the Navarro family was never the real crown?” He clicked play. A video of Naomi, worn from battle, eyes manic with clarity. > “Jayce thinks he’s king. Eli thinks he’s the shadow. But the real war wasn’t about power. It was about who hid Project Hollow.”

Orion opened his eyes slowly, blinking back the darkness curling around the edge of his sight. The darkness gradually cleared and the world around him came into focus. Around him, there was nothing but an endless abyss. Black stretched infinitely in every direction, swallowing sound, time, and sense. And yet, in the center of that void, a figure hovered before him, radiant, serene and untouched by the darkness around them. It was the goddess, Selene and somehow, the most innate part of him recognised his maker.

​The sky above Haida Gwaii was no longer blue, nor was it the violent violet of the shield. It was Silver. ​Millions of Sterling drones hung in a perfect, terrifying stasis, suspended by residual gravity-anchors. They looked like a ceiling of needles, a metallic fog that blocked out the sun but allowed a strange, diffused grey light to filter down onto the Anchorage. Occasionally, one would twitch—a faint, mechanical spasm as it tried to resolve the "Loss" loop Kael had injected—but for now, the Swarm was a sleeping giant.

He could lose everything, but he couldn't lose her. Malakai took Eden's halo and broke it in half creating two horns instead. The halo that represented innocence was what Malakai broke and turned it into a killer. He took an angel and turned her into a devil. But deep down, she always remained an angel. Malakai's angel. Even with her broken halo. So, like I said. This wasn't a story about heroes and villains, this was all about the villains. Because villains will always be villains if the heroes tell the story. So I decided to tell you a story from the villain's point of view.

How in the name of the beloved Goddess am I still alive? I wanted to curl up and slip into death like the other people, but then the sound of the horses grew louder. Instinctively I dived below the table we dined on only minutes ago, and tried to listen in on the people approaching. The sound of the horses stopped as the people arrived at the scene, and there was silence for a while. Then someone spoke up. "Well, well. It seems it worked." The voice sounded familiar: too familiar, it made my skin crawl.