Fiction

343 Industries

Halo: The Third Life

Canon Fodder

Alex Wakeford

Issue 152

Canon Fodder: Didactic Discourse

Bitterness-of-the-Vanquished

Issue 151

Canon Fodder: Lorelord

Community

Community Update

343 INDUSTRIES

Women’s History Month 2024

Sundered Star

Issue 150

Canon Fodder: If They Want Lore, We’ll Give ‘Em Lore

Halo: Fireside

Book Preview

The story of the Didact is one of deep tragedy, spanning countless millennia in the Halo universe—from the apex of the Forerunners’ civilization where he served as its protector, to his descent into madness as the Flood’s ancient game of vengeance culminated in the firing of Halo.



Following his defeat by the Master Chief, the Didact’s physical form was burned away by the Composer, casting his consciousness into a vast desert. It is here that Kelly Gay’s latest novel, Halo: Epitaph, begins—and in this preview, we will see the beginning of his great journey…



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Stripped of armor, might, and memory, the Forerunner warrior known as the Didact was torn from the physical world following his destructive confrontation with the Master Chief and sent reeling into the mysterious depths of a seemingly endless desert wasteland. This once powerful and terrifying figure is now a shadow of his former self—gaunt, broken, desiccated, and alone. But this wasteland is not as barren as it seems. A blue light glints from a thin spire in the far distance…



Thus begins the Didact’s great journey—the final fate of one of the galaxy’s most enigmatic and pivotal figures.



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Halo: Epitaph releases on February 27 and is available in <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Halo-Epitaph/Kelly-Gay/Halo/9781668017531">trade paperback</a>, <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Halo-Epitaph/Kelly-Gay/Halo/9781668017548">ebook</a>, and <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Halo-Epitaph/Kelly-Gay/Halo/9781797160436">unabridged audiobook</a> formats.



And you’re definitely going to want that audiobook, as the entirety of Halo: Epitaph is narrated by Keith Szarabajka—the voice and motion capture actor for the Didact himself!



Looking to catch up on the story thus far for the Didact? We’ve got you covered with a recap of this character’s journey through the Halo universe in <a href="https://www.halowaypoint.com/news/the-story-so-far-the-didact">The Story So Far: The Didact</a>.



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Whether the warrior succeeds or fails, chooses rightly or wrongly, at least he dared act at all.



—The Mantle, Eleventh Permutation of the Didact’s Number



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He was rage and fire. Cinder and storm. Burning remnants and echoes tearing madly over a barren landscape.



Star by star, world by world Never peace, never solace, never rest



Disjointed, wailing voices darted and dove, amplified in the vast desert echo chamber of dust and sand. Embers and fragments churned and seethed, united into a molten core by a thousand centuries of wrath and resentment.



A deep shadow has fallen The light shuns us Stop this! Stop the pain!



Unable to contain the sweltering maelstrom, the molten core bloated and suddenly burst, flinging heat and light outward into the shape of a fiery figure.



The heat dissipated. Black smoke replaced flame, floating and curling and swaying around the figure’s outline, gradually settling like a living cloak over the wide shoulders of a tall, gaunt form, a few stubborn embers still clinging to life at its tattered edges.



His rage spent for now, the figure rolled his shoulders, straightened his spine, and then tipped his head from side to side, feeling the pull of thick neck muscles and the satisfying snap of tendons. Pressure in his legs and joints manifested as his weight eased down into his body.



No—not quite a body. . .



The remnant of one, perhaps. A shade. A memory. A poor imitation.



One with enough composition, however, to cause his bare feet to sink into the sand and anchor him to whatever reality this was.



Weariness came with the physical weight, burrowing deeply into sinew and bone and wasted muscle. With effort, he lifted an arm, the cloak sliding back to reveal shriveled skin and a large,



almost skeletal hand tipped with brittle, sallow claws.



Denial and disgust rose with a sharp bite, some vague recollection telling him the view should be much different. He turned his hand and arm, seeing in his mind’s eye a more powerful and muscular physique, healthier gray skin endowed with fleshy-pink variation. . . .



Despite his initial reaction, the withered skin and desiccated muscle did not trouble him much. In fact, it felt . . . familiar, as though he had experienced the similarity before and all that was required to remedy the situation was to initiate—



Initiate . . . what?



Aya. He knew it. Could almost reach it . . .



The lost knowledge seemed to teeter on the precipice of revelation before it evaporated, leaving him unsteady, as if the sandy ground weakened beneath him. He rubbed at the vague ache in his right eye, a faint tease of identity skipping through his mind, but that too faded.



Try as he might, he could not mentally grasp a single important thing. Who he was, what he was, or how he came to be here, all seemed equally out of reach.



His cloak flapped as a line of tepid wind blew over his position, drawing attention to the dust and sand caught up in the current. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but low sand dunes watched over by a dirty dull-blue sky and the bright flare of a sun hidden behind muddled clouds.



An arrogant snort flared softly through his nostrils, indicating a strong, ingrained confidence, one that told him not all was lost. Memory might escape him, but instinct and basic knowledge did not. His senses were intact, and his traits and emotions felt strong within him, some still gnawing and churning in his gut—indignation, contempt, bitterness, fury, obsession. But these he left alone for the time being.



No need to stir the serpent’s nest just yet . . .



He stared across the desolate landscape, contemplating his current situation. Had he been brought here? Forced here? Or had he fled here? Was his presence by chance or deliberate?



When weighed against the consuming rage he’d experienced earlier, one surety stood out above all others. It was certainly not by choice.



With nothing in any direction but the endless waste, his options were decidedly simplistic. Stay put or move on.



Without hesitation, he chose the latter, the sand folding over his feet as he started off in no particular direction.



The going was tedious and slow, his corporeal form stiff and uncooperative, though his bare skin on earth and the tiny grains pushing between his toes were oddly satisfying, the basic physical connection to the environment feeling very much like a novelty.



After trekking across several dunes, he paused to rest at a high point, revising his previous opinion. The sand was far from satisfying. His soles and toes were now raw, his body ached all over, and his mouth felt like tinder picked from the loose bark of the rataa trees that had once lined his family estate on Nomdagro.



The clarity of the vision struck harsh and quick. The force of it had him by the throat, stealing his breath.



Tree line. Children picking bark. A fire already smoking in the clearing by the white, chalky banks of the River Dweha . . .



The entire moment lay suspended.



His legs trembled and he dropped to one knee, gasping, struggling to keep hold of the vision, to place it in the context of his life, but it dodged just out of reach.



Disappeared. Gone. As though it had never existed.



Defeated, he collapsed with an angry growl, sitting in the sand and shaking his head, appalled at his own wretched incompetence. Heat crept up the back of his neck. Absently he rubbed the warm skin as his brow drew into a deep frown. His inability to capture the memory was discouraging, but there was also hope. It meant that his past was not completely lost. It was still there, under the surface.



More will come, he told himself, eyeing the next sand dune in his path—the tallest yet.



While exhaustion threatened to immobilize him, he was apparently nothing if not stubborn. Rousing his dwindling reserves, he got up and let gravity carry him in big strides down the dune’s long slope.



Once he made it to the next pile of sand, his head tipped back at its height. Such a menial, unnecessary, and time-consuming task when he could simply . . .



What? Wish himself to the top?



He braced against the now endless aches and pains plaguing his frail body, and with no small amount of grumbling began yet another climb—one sore foot in front of the other—until he finally reached the summit, out of breath, but rewarded for his efforts. A dark and dirty horizon stretched in the far distance, and within it or perhaps preceding it—it was too far to tell—a mote of blue glowed.



Finally, something out there in the sea of sand. Relief flooded him and he slumped to the ground.



Once down, he did not attempt to get back up. No matter what might lie beckoning ahead, it felt too good to stop and rest. Something told him that this too felt like a novelty. He pulled a foot closer to his body to knead the aching heel and arch, then cleared the sand between his toes. As he tended to the other foot, small dark specks appeared in the sky.



Instantly, there it was again, the precipice of knowledge. Along with an urge to assess the threat, to meet it with swift and decisive action. All he had to do was—



And . . . it was gone. Again.



“Aya,” he grunted in frustration as the specks drew close enough to see in detail. There were five creatures of flight with crested heads and long, imposing beaks. They were larger than him in both body and wingspan, and their dirty-brown color blended in well with the desert landscape. Double sets of large leathery wings protruded from each narrow torso and flapped rather slowly. As they glided overhead, the length of their tails was displayed and the—



Rangmejo



The word whispered with sudden clarity. He turned and watched their diminishing passage. Just as they faded from view, they suddenly dispersed into dust. Like a mirage. A dream.



He closed his eyes tightly, giving his head a hard shake, before looking again. But the avian creatures were indeed gone.



An unsettling sensation bloomed in the pit of his stomach. While he did not want to admit it, he knew. He’d known all along.



Wherever this was could not be based in the physical world. The landscape was not quite right, and neither was he—formed as he’d been from embers and emotion. His arms were wizened and old. His garb was wholly unfamiliar. Even his face, which he mapped with his fingers, felt bony and unrecognizable. He pinched his sallow cheeks and tugged at the tuft of hair on his head. The pain was real, at least. He studied his hands. All six fingers accounted for . . .



It was right, and yet not right. He felt solid, and yet . . . he was not whole.



Questions assailed him. None of which he could definitively answer. He must have had a past life, but there was nothing to prove his brief recollections were real or that they even belonged to him.



The mote of blue lingering far on the horizon was the only point of significance so far. If he had indeed been brought here, sent here, forced here—whatever the case might be—there must be a reason.



He stayed on the dune for a time, mildly contemplating his predicament while tending to his other aching foot. After his fingers grew tired, he lay back and put a hand behind his head, wondering if there had ever existed such a lackluster, dirty blue sky before.



Aya. But it was quiet here. Perhaps he should simply accept his fate, enjoy the peace, and wait for something to happen. Amusement tugged a corner of his mouth. If he did have a past life, he was certain such an inane and useless thought had never crossed his mind.



Gradually, his mind drifted. As sleep took over, he wondered in what reality he might awaken.



*



He dreamed of fire.



From flesh to bone, it ate away at him, ripping him apart one layer at a time, tearing and burning.



Stripped, pulled asunder, until even his consciousness peeled free, and he was nothing but writhing, screaming embers.

The Didact Returns | Halo: Epitaph Preview

The Didact - Origins

The Didact - Forerunner Saga

The Didact - Halo 4

The Didact - Halo: Escalation

Halo: Epitaph, the next novel by acclaimed author Kelly Gay, releases on February 27, 2024.



Ahead of the Didact’s long-anticipated return in Epitaph, set in the aftermath of Halo 4 and Halo: Escalation’s events where the Forerunner commander was defeated by the Master Chief and torn from the physical world, we have put together a summary of major appearances and events that have defined the Didact’s journey throughout the Halo universe.



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<h2 class="wp-block-heading">ORIGINS</h2>





The Didacts—both the original and Bornstellar, his imprinted duplicate—are among the most tragic characters in the Halo universe.



“Didact” is a name Halo fans first became familiar with in 2007, during the Iris alternate-reality game which connected with the Terminals in Halo 3. These texts gave us a series of glimpses into some of the events that transpired around the fall of the Forerunners’ civilization, featuring an enigmatic figure who was responsible for lighting the spark that would ignite the galaxy, burning our cosmic cradle of thinking life to defeat the Flood. In time, we would come to know this particular incarnation as Bornstellar-Makes-Eternal-Lasting, the IsoDidact.



The original—the Ur-Didact, named Shadow-of-Sundered-Star—was conceived in part by the unparalleled mind of <a href="https://www.halowaypoint.com/news/greg-bear-in-memoriam">the late and legendary Greg Bear</a>, who detailed this Forerunner’s adventures, trials, and descent into madness within the pages of the Forerunner Saga: <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Halo-Cryptum/Greg-Bear/HALO/9781982111755">Cryptum</a>, <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Halo-Primordium/Greg-Bear/HALO/9781982111779">Primordium</a>, and <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Halo-Silentium/Greg-Bear/HALO/9781982111816">Silentium</a>.



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<h2 class="wp-block-heading">THE FORERUNNER SAGA</h2>





“You are what you dare.” ~ Halo: Cryptum



The Didact’s story began for us with his fateful reawakening on Earth at the hands of the young, treasure-seeking Bornstellar—along with his two human companions, Chakas and Riser—as the existential threat posed by the Flood and the rogue AI Mendicant Bias approached its dire terminus.



Within these books, we learned of the Didact’s unconventional marriage to the Librarian and the death of their children in the war against the ancient human Ancestors. We learned of his meeting with the creature known as the Primordial; his commissioning of the shield worlds, his opposition to the construction of Halo, and the political conflict which followed with the greed-driven Master Builder.



The Didact would guide Bornstellar for a time as they investigated the aftermath of all that the old warrior had missed over the millennia in which he had been exiled within a Cryptum. They discovered that the Primordial had been released from its prison on Charum Hakkor, the former Ancestor capital world, before finding themselves in the middle of a San’Shyuum uprising that would be swiftly put down by one of the Master Builder’s terrible ringworld weapons.



Though they would end up captured, the Didact imprinted his consciousness—his memories and wisdom—upon Bornstellar, who would go on to assume command of the Forerunner military in the final years of the Flood War as the IsoDidact.



<figure class="wp-block-image size-full"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="1920" height="1222" src="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Mythos_Cryptum_Bornstellar.jpg" alt="Halo Mythos artwork by Chase Toole depicting Bornstellar with Chakas and Riser before the Didact is awakened from his Cryptum on Erde-Tyrene" class="wp-image-95465" srcset="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Mythos_Cryptum_Bornstellar.jpg 1920w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Mythos_Cryptum_Bornstellar-300x191.jpg 300w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Mythos_Cryptum_Bornstellar-1024x652.jpg 1024w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Mythos_Cryptum_Bornstellar-768x489.jpg 768w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Mythos_Cryptum_Bornstellar-1536x978.jpg 1536w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Mythos_Cryptum_Bornstellar-1568x998.jpg 1568w" sizes="(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px" /></figure>



“A deep shadow has fallen over everything Forerunner. When I was pulled up from all that, pulled out of the Cryptum and revived… I couldn’t remember. But now I do—in part. Horror brought it back. The Gravemind returned it to me. It forced me to listen.” ~ Halo: Silentium



But the original Didact was discarded, with many believing he had simply been executed by the Master Builder. He was, in fact, placed aboard a derelict ship and marooned in a region of space fully infested by the Flood. It was here that he would meet with the Primordial once more.



This beast had also assumed a new form, that of a Gravemind, and the torture it imposed upon the Didact filled him with the vengeance of the Precursors—the very beings who had seeded the galaxy with life. Millions of years ago, the Forerunners had risen up against their creators and drove them to extinction, and the survival strategies some of the Precursors sought eventually culminated in their reincarnation… in the twisted form of the Flood.



The Gravemind repurposed the Forerunners’ greatest warrior into a weapon to sow chaos during their darkest hour, and so the Didact was returned to the ecumene where he sought to find a solution to the Flood that would not involve wiping out all life in the galaxy.



Attempting to gain immunity to the Flood, the Didact performed a mutation on himself, but the failed procedure warped his appearance into a dark mirror of what the Gravemind had done to him.



And so, he turned to the Composer.



<figure class="wp-block-image size-full"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="1920" height="1080" src="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_DidactComposer.jpg" alt="Halo 4 screenshot of the Composer" class="wp-image-95635" srcset="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_DidactComposer.jpg 1920w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_DidactComposer-300x169.jpg 300w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_DidactComposer-1024x576.jpg 1024w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_DidactComposer-768x432.jpg 768w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_DidactComposer-1536x864.jpg 1536w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_DidactComposer-1568x882.jpg 1568w" sizes="(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px" /></figure>



“Didact, if the Composer is our final hope to defeat the Flood… no Promethean would resist.” ~ Halo 4, Terminal 5: Knights



This machine was capable of extracting the essence of an organic being and converting it into machine data. Of the many purposes it had been used for in the past—on the humans as punishment, on Forerunners in an attempt to achieve immortality, and on Flood victims in an effort to rid them of the infection—all saw horrific defects. But the Warrior-Servants who were loyal to the Didact submitted themselves to the device, losing their physical forms to become Promethean Knights.



Though these war machines secured several victories against the parasite, their numbers were too few to be a viable alternative to Halo. As a result, the Didact turned the Composer on the human populations that had been preserved by his wife, the Librarian, invoking her terrible wrath.



Pursuing her husband to the shield world Requiem, she convinced Endurance-of-Will—the Didact’s former lover—that he must be exiled once more. After being incapacitated by the Librarian, she imprisoned him within a Cryptum at the heart of his planet, commanded his Prometheans to guard him, and left behind a personality imprint of herself to carry out plans she had for the future.



<figure class="wp-block-image size-full"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="1920" height="1080" src="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_JanusKey.jpg" alt="Halo 4: Spartan Ops screenshot of Dr. Halsey and the Librarian with the Janus Key" class="wp-image-95649" srcset="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_JanusKey.jpg 1920w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_JanusKey-300x169.jpg 300w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_JanusKey-1024x576.jpg 1024w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_JanusKey-768x432.jpg 768w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_JanusKey-1536x864.jpg 1536w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/H4_JanusKey-1568x882.jpg 1568w" sizes="(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px" /></figure>



“This was meant for my husband to help your people, when his meditation was complete…” ~ Halo 4, Spartan Ops, Episode 9: Key



The Librarian had intended for the Didact to awaken from ages of meditation with his mind healed, whereupon he would inherit the Janus Key—a galactic cartographer for Forerunner technology. With this, she hoped he would serve as a teacher for humanity, who had been chosen to inherit the Mantle of Responsibility after the firing of Halo and the reseeding of the galaxy.



But this plan would go awry at the end of all things when the Gravemind revealed its final twist of the knife.



The firing of Halo would not just wipe out all thinking life in the galaxy, but it would burn the Domain too, leaving the Didact to consciously stew in a hundred millennia of silence and madness.



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<h2 class="wp-block-heading">HALO 4</h2>





“So fades the great harvest of my betrayal.” ~ Halo 4, Forerunner



When the Master Chief and Cortana were sent to Requiem, they unwittingly released the Didact from his prison and he resumed his efforts to reclaim the Composer and turn it on his old enemy. This was no longer an effort to stop the Flood, but to contain the threat posed by humanity—a species he deemed unworthy of inheriting the Mantle, per the plans of his wife, the Librarian.



Though he would be prevented from assimilating all of Earth with the Composer, he succeeded in harvesting seven million human essences that formed the basis of the Promethean army that Jul ‘Mdama would utilize over the next year.



The Didact, however, was sent plunging into a slipspace portal, though this confrontation would exact a heavy toll as Cortana sacrificed herself to ensure the Master Chief survived the encounter.



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<h2 class="wp-block-heading">HALO: ESCALATION</h2>





“You would fire the Halo. Just to eliminate me?” ~ Halo: Escalation, Issue #10



Returning to Earth, the Master Chief learned of Promethean activity on Gamma Halo and was reunited with his fellow Spartans of Blue Team to investigate. There, they discovered that Spartan Black Team had been slaughtered, and a site known as the Composer’s Abyss housed a portal that linked to the world of Clinquant—a forge for the Composers, where six new devices had been procured for the Didact.



Intending to unify the Composer with Gamma Halo and fire the ring on Earth, the Didact met his match when the Master Chief—with the help of monitor 859 Static Carillon—managed to trap him in the ring’s control room and eject that section of the ring, sending it on a collision course with the Composer’s Forge.



The unstable detonation of neural physics from the six Composers tore the Didact from the physical world, burning away his flesh and containing the threat he posed to the galaxy…



But this would not be the end for him.



<figure class="wp-block-image size-full"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="1942" height="1544" src="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Escalation_TN72H-Contained.jpg" alt="Halo: Escalation comic panel of the Master Chief informing Lord Hood that the Didact has been contained" class="wp-image-95972" srcset="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Escalation_TN72H-Contained.jpg 1942w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Escalation_TN72H-Contained-300x239.jpg 300w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Escalation_TN72H-Contained-1024x814.jpg 1024w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Escalation_TN72H-Contained-768x611.jpg 768w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Escalation_TN72H-Contained-1536x1221.jpg 1536w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2024/02/Escalation_TN72H-Contained-1568x1247.jpg 1568w" sizes="(max-width: 1942px) 100vw, 1942px" /></figure>



I want to ask her what it is that she wants. Not what she hopes to achieve or the responsibilities she has taken upon her shoulders, but her own desire, her heart’s wanting.



But I realize I do not have to ask this. I already know. “Can the Didact find peace?”



The sorrow that flashes through her eyes instantly pains me. “I fear my husband is beyond redemption.” ~ Halo: Renegades



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<h2 class="wp-block-heading">HALO: EPITAPH</h2>



<figure class="wp-block-image size-full"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="1920" height="1080" src="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2023/05/HaloEpitaphCoverSocial.jpg" alt="Cover art of Halo: Epitaph by Chris McGrath depicting the hooded figure of the Didact with half a broken helmet in a desert environment, the tower of Halo 3's map Epitaph in the background" class="wp-image-67234" srcset="https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2023/05/HaloEpitaphCoverSocial.jpg 1920w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2023/05/HaloEpitaphCoverSocial-300x169.jpg 300w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2023/05/HaloEpitaphCoverSocial-1024x576.jpg 1024w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2023/05/HaloEpitaphCoverSocial-768x432.jpg 768w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2023/05/HaloEpitaphCoverSocial-1536x864.jpg 1536w, https://wpassets.halowaypoint.com/wp-content/2023/05/HaloEpitaphCoverSocial-1568x882.jpg 1568w" sizes="(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px" /></figure>



Halo: Epitaph represents the culmination of the Didact’s journey—from page, to game, to comic, we have come full-circle, back to the page.



In a novel that is all about his past, present, and the future he will forge for himself within the hallowed halls of the Domain, this is a chapter of Halo universe history that is not to be missed!



<a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Halo-Epitaph/Kelly-Gay/Halo/9781668017531">Pre-order your copy of Halo: Epitaph here.</a>



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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-width="550" data-dnt="true">The Didact returns in HALO: EPITAPH, the next novel by <a href="https://twitter.com/KellyHGay?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@KellyHGay</a>, coming early 2024. Keith Szarabajka, the voice of the Didact himself, will assume the mantle of audiobook narrator. 🔥 <a href="https://t.co/DGMUPXnflm">https://t.co/DGMUPXnflm</a> <a href="https://t.co/qbxN7NzBd9">pic.twitter.com/qbxN7NzBd9</a>— Halo (@Halo) <a href="https://twitter.com/Halo/status/1716522436416397341?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">October 23, 2023</a></blockquote><script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
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Prefer audiobooks? The entirety of Halo: Epitaph is narrated by Keith Szarabajka, the voice of the Didact himself. <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Halo-Epitaph/Kelly-Gay/Halo/9781797160436">Secure the Halo: Epitaph audiobook here!</a>



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Stripped of armor, might, and memory, the Forerunner warrior known as the Didact was torn from the physical world following his destructive confrontation with the Master Chief and sent reeling into the mysterious depths of a seemingly endless desert wasteland. This once powerful and terrifying figure is now a shadow of his former self—gaunt, broken, desiccated, and alone. But this wasteland is not as barren as it seems. A blue light glints from a thin spire in the far distance…



Thus begins the Didact’s great journey—the final fate of one of the galaxy’s most enigmatic and pivotal figures.