And then … even that young voice is gone.

They have done this thing. We have done this thing. What more will come, ever?

Without warning, internal processes already set in motion begin to erase parts of my memory, concealing secrets and hiding my past from me.

I strain to prevent this, but it is inevitable. I try to hold on to history, but slowly it fades away, replaced now by my new station—my new purpose.

My galaxy is dead.

I am machine.

I am Chakas.

I am human.

I am 343 Guilty Spark.

I have never understood Forerunners.

And they will never understand me.

But for now …

Silentium.