Diminishing Halo’s Mythology

The desire to explain too much can vanquish the awe and wonder we once felt

Halo then. A word that asked a thousand questions. Halo now. A word that answers far, far more. In 2001, Halo: Combat Evolved introduced a gameplay sandbox unlike no other — one that extended beyond the linear hallways of its corridor-crawling siblings. The premise: use its arsenal of weapons and vehicles to forge your own path on developer Bungie’s intergalactic highway — go where they want, but have some small say in how you get there.

That highway was an ancient one, too. A storytelling sandbox littered with vast monoliths and symbology of a civilisation no longer with us.

And it was full of unanswered questions.

Call it mystery, call it awe — the name doesn’t matter: that sense, that feeling of the unknown is just as crucial to the Halo sandbox as guns, grenades or melee. But this part of Halo’s sandbox has slowly diminished since its debut 19 years ago — and why it feels fundamentally different now. The trinity remains intact, but the master it serves feels indescribably transformed.

Halo’s menu screen expertly captures that feeling. A gargantuan relic hanging in space scored by a gregorian chant that feels transcendent, religious and unknowable. That’s how Halo…