And the suddenly, Mendicant Bias knew what the incessant roaring at the back of his mind was. He couldn't believe it for a few moments, but realised that there was no other explanation. He turned to face an expectant Johnson.
"The Flood," he whispered, scarcely believing it. He could feel them. All of them. Every single Flood form in existence. All 3,235,731,792,080,73 of them. But the number was falling, rapidly. Many were being killed.
"The Flood? What do you mean, 'the Flood'?"
But Mendicant Bias had blocked the words of the human out, and was instead delving deep into the new-found abilities he had discovered. He could feel everything the Flood experienced like he were doing it.
[i]So this is what it's like to smell, to touch, to breathe, to bleed, to die,[/i] Mendicant Bias thought with wonder. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
And then he looked at the inactive corpse of John. He [i]truly[/i] looked, and saw them, or rather felt them. The motionless, beaten Flood cells that the Gravemind had attempted to infect the Spartan with floated absently through the dead bloodstream, pulsating with faint life.
Curiously, Mendicant Bias probed at one of the Flood cells. Gently, not knowing how he was doing it.
There! He had established the link.
It was strange. It was as if [i]he[/i] were the Flood cell, or rather it was an extension of his own self. He could manipulate it's very basic structure, and found with some surprise that he could control many at once. Tentatively, he began to move them around the body, losing himself in the process.
As they travelled the Flood cells came across vital organs which were damaged heavily, and Mendicant Bias urged them to multiply and patch the tears without even really thinking about it. And so the Flood cells swept through the body, healing. Often Mendicant Bias had to take more direct control so that they wouldn't hijack the intact cells of John's body and completely infect him.
And then, finally, John's body had been healed, physically at least. And yet the Spartan still remained dead.
"Now," Mendicant Bias spoke for the first time in minutes, looking sideways at Johnson, who was staring curiously at the scene. The Arbiter still lay unconscious on the floor, but thankfully he was still alive. "This is where the real magic begins."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
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