nightfallguardian

[nightfallguardian]

A rumor of Ruin

The shadowy figure sits in a far booth, away from most of the light. I sit at the bar and send him a drink, specifically an Old Fashioned. He drinks, leaves.

He's left something for me on the table, a flash drive. I collect it and leave. In orbit, in the safety of my ship, I plug it in to a small laptop. A security protocol runs, before an audio file plays:

"Guardian. Its true. Between the Vex and Guardians... We should have known. Someone should have seen this coming. Ada-1, Exos, even Lord Shaxx's redjacks. Rasputin had to come to this conclusion. For all the warsats, and all the terrible destruction a Warmind can cause, nothing stands up better than a human with two feet, two arms and a pack full of ammo.

"Atheon, killed by a fireteam of six.

Crota? Same.

His father Oryx was defeated in two planes of existence by what? Oh, a fireteam of six.

The last ahamkara is repeatedly killed by fireteams of six.

The fallen warlord in the ruined city? Again. Just six people changing the universe.

"Rasputin has everything ready, I have seen it. Assembly lines ready and stocked with raw materials not for warsats, but for weapons. IKELIOS stuff we have? Prototypes. The armor we've been scrounging up on Mars? More practice runs. But thats not all. Why would a warmind want weapons and armor?

Why would it care?

"This is just an idea but hear me out. I know I'm rambling and I'm sure you've put the numbers together but I want to spell it out."

"Or more specifically, he wants a body. He wants to be one of us. A Guardian. We can't manufacture light, we can't force ghosts to keep reviving any light weilding bones they find."

"But Rasputin can do something close. Something more dangerous."

"If he makes frames, pilots them, fights with them, and they get destroyed? He is fine. He retains that knowledge. He... Keeps going. Keeps existing and fighting. Imagine an immortal squad of... What, sextuplets? Six of the same man, fighting in perfect coordination. Even without them having light, that would be devastating.

"I'm recording this for you, because he knows."

"I was on Mars, poking around Old Mars, not just the Bray area. And I came across a slaughter. Cabal units, just destroyed. Every one had shots to the helmet seals, joints, eye-pieces. I'm talking surgical shooting at their weakest points. Whoever hit these guys brought the pain. And the Cabal tried to retaliate.

"Tried."

"It looks like things got desperate and they brought in a small ship to deal with it, I found it with holes blasted out of it. At least a few hundred dead total between the ground element and whoever was manning the ship. And in the middle of all the destruction I found a coffin looking box. Flat black, angular, with burn marks from atmospheric entry.

"You know what I'm describing; Ras-fucking-putin tech baby."

"I found five. And two dead Exos, except these guys were true dead. No ghosts. No fragments. My ghost even checked em over; no light resonance. These were never guardians. Which is impossible, why would an exo jump in to a suicidal fight? Where would they even come from?

"And it hit me. It literally hit me, shotgun blast to the face. We thought the IKELIOS ones we had hurt in the crucible... My ghost had been right in front of my face. I'm dead sure it was trying to kill my ghost. Kill me. This damn thing stared at me, blown in half and with only one arm to shoot at me with I had figured it was dead.

"Glowing red orange eyes. It looked demented, all mangled and glaring, and then it spoke. It said somethimg in Russian, the same orange red glow flashing in its mouth, I didn't catch much. Just something about evolyutsiya, evolution. And then the frame kinda popped, started to burn. It melted up into a puddle of parts and garbage. So did the coffin pods.

"Rasputin was just getting in some practice. He means to join us as a Guardian, of sorts. And that worries me greatly."

"I think he might kill me, to keep it quiet. So he can walk among us, as Exos with red orange eyes. Shit I bet you he'll even make fake ghosts to go with his fake guardians. You're one of the few people I trust. Take this info and tell everyone you can. Guardians who dont use supers, who go down and seem to revive away from you... I dont know. He might already be among us. Watch out for him. Get Zavala this message too. He will understand. Light save us."

The message ends. I'm in shock. This much information in Zavalas hands would have a million Guardians storming the Warmind, even without any evidence like armor, guns or a body so to speak!

If he hadn't died on Titan... I quickly unplug the flash drive, turning to my ghost I speak

"net dobrykh del ne ostayetsya beznakazannym, tovarishch?".

I chuckle softly to my fake ghost, the Red orange flashing behind my mouth.

I crush the flash drive

[nightfallguardian]

A Warlock Wager

Feel the pull of entropy. The long slow death of every living cell in everything around you. The crushing weight of time, and the death of time itself. Reach out and touch the heat death of the universe and the failing of reality. There. Trace the connection between the ending and the now. Feel the strands, caress them like spider silk; feeling without becoming trapped.

Warp them.

Wrap them.

Bind them to your will.

Expose the truth of the strands to reality using yourself as a lense.

This is the Warlock Wager: To take the unedning hunger of the void and to feed it back upon itself, until all is but teeth and hunger; without being bitten. And in doing so you take part of that hunger and in your hands it becomes... More. A touch of your hand can make enemies explode, a kiss of void borne death can heal you. Its all in how you weave the threads you find.

Deep in a forgotten arena, far flung and without light she wages a war. A Warlock who fuels death with death. She trades mortal blows with any foe and walks away stronger for it. She weaves death into new life for herself, her ghost dead in her robes without the light. But she knows the secret. Death births light, light becomes a nova bomb, she throws it against her enemies, her prison. A little light feeds. It becomes more aware. She kills.

Weaves.

SHATTERS.

DEVOURS.

Her enemies are routed. Her prison is broken open. Her ghost blinks its purple black eye.

The shoe has traded feet.

The Guardian has resurrected her Ghost

[nightfallguardian]

A Tale for Titans

"Everyone take a knee."

The voice rings out, commanding and full of authority. Not one person present protests. The speaker stands before a crowd of sixteen, all of them Titans. All of them fresh to the city. Whatever they did before, whoever they were mean nothing. The speaker has told them this.

Your deeds, are dirt.

Your name, un-tempered in the proper fires.

As a Titan of the city you are the Wall and every brick therein.

He has said these things a hundred times. He has taught them history, tactics, teamwork. He has watched them kill and be killed a dozen times, and he has killed them all dozens more.

Glowing, Exo eyes track him alongside ethereal Awoken stares, wary human eyes study him. They have sat like this before, as he told them about constant vigilance. Midway through he killed all sixteen with a fist of havok.

Constant.

Vigilance.

But today is a lesson of a different sort. A lesson in morality.

"When you find yourself outnumbered, surrounded, without light and without a weapon, what do you do?"

The students pause, unsure if the question is rhetorically posed. A hand is raised.

"You. Speak."

The young woman stands, face stoic.

"We find a way to continue fighting. Enemy weapons, debris, even our bare hands will do."

She says this confidently.

"Wrong." Comes the reply.

She takes a knee, a look of confusion flitting across her face and the faces of many others. A Titan fights, always. Each student knows that a Titan holds to the last man, fights until the last woman falls.

"This, is the first lesson, and the last. It is something we have done a hundred times, a thousand, but can only truly do once. A paradox. And a tale. Saint-14 went forth into a vex reality to rescue his friend, his brother, Osiris. A Titan for us all to remember with respect, he was true and brave and loyal. In this far flung reality he was ambushed. The vex wrought a mighty trap."

Heads bow among the students. Everyone has heard the stories by now, but not like this.

"For immesurable time Saint-14 fought. With bullet and fist, fury and Light. And when his enemies had died by the tens of thousands, when he stood on a sea of shattered Vex and oozing radiolaria they struck. A Vex Mind had spent its existence attuning itself to his Light. And as he fought it blocked him, drained him. But the Titan did not stop. He fought until he was surrounded, outnumbered, out of light and ammo.

"And then, he died."

Silence unbroken holds the group of students, a shade of mourning on every face.

The speaker shouts, defiantly.

"That is the true measure of a Titan! Though we may die a thousand times, a real Titan will die a True Death, the Last Death! Some of you will give your final breath for the city. Some of you, for your friends. Others die alone, far from Light. That is your lesson for today, your last lesson. All of you are now ready. The fallen are massing near Twilight Gap, and we need every Light to hold them."

"Stand with me, Brothers and Sisters!"

"Stand with me, Titans!"

[nightfallguardian]

On Hunters

*Excerpt from Hunter mentor logs, Permit Num[7362728a2], purpose: practical training and knowledge test. Mentor [H1], student [H2]*

H1 "So, what do you see?"

H2 "Fallen trio. Vandal, two Dregs. Scavenging, their normal behavior. No house colors, no slidentifying glyphs or markings. Three hundred meter range, easy shot. Vandal is priority one, dregs will rout."

H1 "Eye out of your scope boy. Your assessment is correct, but youd be wrong to shoot them. See how skinny the Vandals arms are? In between the armor? And the dregs are walking skeletons. Ether starvation, these arent scavenging tech; theyre only scraping up ether empties. They're outcasts, leaderless. They'll run from the first thing they see.

"If I sent you over there with half a tank of ether they'd dock that vandals arms for it. Hell, that vandal would dock himself for it. Here, try this. Look at the wall next to the blue storefront. What do you see?"

H2, sighs and responds, "I see gouged brick, pockmarks from... Guardian weapons and possibly a fallen pike, the bigger ones look slightly melted. If we also account for the car frames and shells on thr ground it looks like a running battle between a Guardian or two, and a small group of fallen raiders."

H1, grunts.

H2, scrapes as he moves closer to H1.

H2 "What is it?"

H1 "You're technically correct. And you have some of the sharpest eyes I've ever trained. You know every facet of your weapons, and can recite most specifications on armament from any Arsenal we know of by rote. But the problem is you're too focused. Its like... Well that wall for instance. Yes, there was a dust up here. I was part of it, three weeks back. Me and another student."

H1 pauses for a few minutes.

H1 "You read the signs like a book, but look at the wall again. Look at the curve of the gouging, you see it? Ignore the holes and all that. What do you see?"

H2 "Is that... It looks like art. A servitor? No, its... Thats the Traveller. Has to be. Why?

H1 "The why isn't the point. It's... It's like this. You foucus too much on the threads, and you wont see the cloak. Too much detail and you lose sight of the picture. Try this, look over at that fountain. See the building behind it?"

H1 "What do you see, Hunter?"

*End of Section one, thirteen sections in file. Play next?*

[nightfallguardian]

Ghost Story

Everyone has fables, tall tales and scary stories. Guardians too, even with all their differences, have stories. Here's one overheard by listening equipment on Mars.

*fading in as the Guardians approach surveillence cone*

"....s....ou th.....and then? More sand. I say we just make some noise. Recon is boring, I could use a fight against some big lumbering Cabal." Says Guardian 1 (henceforth G1) in a smirking voice.

"No. Caution in all things. We talked about this on the ship, we land far far away in the fissure we saw from orbit, then go in on foot. Punching your way into trouble isnt recon." Says Guardian 2 in a weary, off-repeated-phrase sort of voice.

*rustling and clinking as presumably camp is made and camoflauge is erected*

"Camo is up. Sand shelter too. Now what?" Asks G1.

"We sleep. And hope no one finds us napping." G2 says flatly.

*45 minutes elapse, rustling and then speakong breaks the relative silence*

"Want to tell scary stories? I'm bored." G1 says, sound very bored indeed.

"I dont know any. Kinda pointless, never bothered to learn fairytales from the regular folks. Not like we would use em often anyway." Chuckles G2.

G1: "I know one. Its not from the City. Its from the moon."

G2: after a moment of silence."Go on..."

G1: clears throat. "So the Vanguard had opened the moon right? The 'Chosen one' had smashed stuff up there prettt good and they figured it was time we had more boots in the lunar dust. So we get to taking down hive, fallen and all that. More and more teams started exploring a bit, expanding on what our maps had.

"One of these explorers was a Titan. She and her ghost were mapping the lower galley and some offshoot passages, standard stuff. We've all done it for some glimmer when we're feeling the financial pinch. So shes deep in there with her ghost, mapping and marking the walls. They're so deep in the moon that the light is a little spotty. You know that flickering feeling? Or how your ghost will be a little odd, flickering and sputtering a little? That deep.

"So shes just taken a side passage, an it turns into this big long hall. Its like a storage area, theres dried out hunks of weird fungus, bones that haven't been cracked for the marrow, small mummified thrall and all sorts of gross Light damned stuff. So shes getting deeper in and again, her ghost flickers. Shes used to it by now but being in a hive cupboard of sorts has her a little edgy.

"Her ghost flickers again, a little dimmer. And she can feel the light in her skin kind of writhe. In the dim light, some of the empty eye sockets seem to be following her movements. She steps on a bone and the brittle, tiny snap sounds like cannonfire in the silence. She figures shes gotten enough Intel for one day, plus being this deep always makes most guardians a little edgy.

"So she starts to backtrack, and her poor dim Ghost is just bobbing along behind her. But the thing is, her ghost doesn't bob. Her ghost had told her a light had to be steady to be reliable. She slowly turned to face her ghost....

"There was her ghost, shining a fitful light for her; with the long jagged claw of a Wizard through its center. Three burning eyes watched her coldly as the last of her ghosts light faded. Flickering green light from its malevolent gaze was all that kept pure darkness from enveloping the Titan.

"With no light, no ghost, in the dark holes that run beneath the moon, a Titan watched as one green eye closed.

"And then a second

"And when the final baleful orb winked closed, in the blackest darkness, the Titan screamed."

*silence unbroken continues for a few minutes*

G2 "Well.. There's no way that happened for real right? Not like that." He said worried.

G1 "It did happen. Exactly. Like. That. I would know."

"I found her ghost.".

*silence for the next few hours. Sounds are observed but evaluation suggests it was their camp being dismantled. Observation equipment falls back into standby mode after several hours of silence and wind*

[nightfallguardian]

An awakening

Nothing. No sound. No sensation. No feeling or thinking.

Light. The trauma of birth, of noise, and light, color and texture and temperature; and overwhelming sensory explosion on every level. Slowly, like a radio signal tuning in, comes clarity.

The sensation below his... Fingers... Is.... Soil. He. He recognized that He was Him, and He had arms, legs, feet, hands, fingers and toes. In his mouth was the taste of sulfur and in his lungs an itching, not quite pain. The.... Air? No... Atmosphere was inhospitable. The sky was dark, blue magma pulsed deep in a crack nearby. A stream ran into its depths, the steam creating a pocket of breathable, watery air. He flexed his left hand, looking down as the thin wrapping of an old protective suit came away like sloughed skin. Metal. He knew, this was his hand. He was a man. He was a Machine Man. Exo, supplied his memory. It wasn't a name, but it was him. His race. He could remember how to think, he had memories of walking, running, completing vague tasks... He paused. Something was watching him. A single eye in the steam. Not an eye.. A lense.

"Hello Guardian, I am so glad to meet you." The Lens speaks and come forward. It hovers, exterior flexing and turning, encasing a sphere which holds the lense. He understands this is a machine too, but not like him. Alien. New.

"I am your Ghost." It calls to him as he stands and surveys the area. He notices he is at the bottom of a deep ravine. In the tattered remnants of a dead things clothes he begins the climb out.

It takes him four days to die. He doesnt need to breathe, so the lack of oxygen is not impedance. He doesn't take into account the acid forming inside his body, corroding him like a cancer. He pushes away the Ghost again. Ignoring its long winded explanations and probing questions. His memory is like a photo with the people removed. He can tell you everything about trees, places, machines and more; but no Self. Like a black and white film lacks color, so he is lacking in anything that might give him a Name or Purpose.

He seeks a [Purpose] but first needs [Freedom] from the [Ravine]. So his current [Purpose] is to [Climb].

There is no [Name] to be found here. It becomes unimportant when compared to the need for [Purpose]. His mind is foucused on the singular drive when he finally ceases to function, clinging to a ledge near the top of the ravine. The Ghost, calls forth the Light and revives him. He is whole, and notices immediately how different he feels now, compared to the slow death of corrosion. He also notices he is falling, just in time to die again. This time consumed by blue magma. It is not a quick or painless death.

He accepts the gift of Armor from the Ghost. His ghost. And that night, in the bottom of the ravine, he questions both the Ghost and himself. The Ghost tells him of their shared purpose. It tells wild tales and shares precious knowledge. The Guardian, safe in his armor, smiles. He has a [Purpose/Shared with Ghost]. He has a [Name/Guardian]. Its not His name, but it is enough. His purpose with Ghost is vague and confusing, but it exists. With Ghost he is a little less lost, so he names his Ghost.

The North Star, a guiding light. Vesper.

His friend.

It takes them a month to leave the ravine and travel close to the old Ishtar collective. They had hoped to find a ship originally, but each passing day only served to show how mercilessly the planet dealt with constructs. Every ground car was a rusted, gutted shell. And there were enemies, closer to the ruins. A week of travel separated the Guardian from the collective, and he had already been killed twice by Fallen.

Using his shock-pole as a staff he set off with Vesper, the ache of his feet demanded he rest, but the ruins beckoned. A way off planet. He needed that more than he needed feet, sore or otherwise. They never got close. A Guardian calling herself a "hidden" had found him.

She took them to earth, to the City. A wall encircled the majority of it, with people toiling hard to finish it. As they flew by he could see the Ghosts among them. Vesper had explained that Guardians as well as ghosts were helping. And Ghosts without Guardians were as well. He was lead to the speaker, a man clad in white. The Speaker was at work on plans for something, dictating needs and costs to a flock of Ghosts and carefully working on a delacate machine. A sphere of concentric rings rotated and spun madly, he dared look closer, trying to make out...

A white mask fulled his vision. He stood up straight as the speaker looked him over. Vesper hovered over his right shoulder, watching. After a conversation between Vesper and the Speaker, he was leaving the tower. Vesper lead him unerringly to a small, spartan apartment. It had belonged to another Guardian, one who had returned to the light. Vesper told him about the light, the iron lords, and the risen before them. Of dark times where the light was as much a sword as it was a shield. Where a Guardian was beholden only to his or her own conscience; and some lacked one.

Massacres. War. A period where the men and women who weilded the light did so selfishly. Dark days indeed. He spent weeks learning from Vesper, from the citizens, from any other Guardian he could find. He needed to know what was out there. Who the enemy was, where to find them, how to fight them.

Other Guardians helped him freely. They showed him pictures, taught him to shoot properly, gave him guns and a sparrow. He tried to take names and promised repayment; the Guardians all said no before vanishing in transmat. A Titan, gave him a ship. It was small, but fast and in good shape. When he tried to offer payment the Titan had laughed uproariously in his face.

"I don't care about Glimmer. I care about having another Guardian in the fight. So take this ship, and Fight!" He had said, clapping his shoulders.

And he realized that they didn't want his money not out of pity, but because they saw him as one of their own. Like family. One year after he awoke on Venus, he truly became a Guardian

[nightfallguardian]

D.7

Hello. I heard there were interviews for human/guardian relation improvements here?

(sure, is your guardian coming?)

Well, I don't have one. And I wanted to talk about what it's like, being a ghost. Most of us never appear outside of very important events or with our guardians. I think that makes ghosts kind of hard to talk to, don't you?

(Ok, we're recording, go for broke)

Thank you. I was recording it myself in case you missed anything. So. Ghosts. Most people in the city know that we coexist with guardians. The only other times you see ghosts are the ones who have taken on jobs as they see fit. Most deliver things, there's a city wide network of ghosts that handle any number of things. But I'm here to talk about what it's like, being a ghost.

A ghost can detect resonance with the Light. Even in those long deceased. We scour the solar system, and beyond, in hopes of finding a guardian to complete us. I shouldn't say complete, that makes us sound like we're broken or less useful alone. We look for a guardian to complement us. Alone a ghost is useful, as a human is useful without a ghost. But when you pair a ghost with a human, exo, awoken... You get a Guardian. As a ghost, I feel a drive to find my guardian. It's like... How would you describe something you want badly but don't have to get?

(craving? Or like hunger?)

Yes hunger. The idea that you want food, but don't need it at that moment. Not like starvation, I think. Craving sounds negative. I like the sound of a mild hunger much better. Or if your battery was low but you could still function for decades. You would want to charge as soon as it was viable, but you don't NEED to just yet. That's the pull ghosts feel.

I spent over thirty years looking. Cosmodrome, moon before it was quarantined, Mars, Venus, the asteroid belt, I never did get to Titan. I will eventually, and there I might find my guardian, my death, or nothing. Some ghosts have had luck with ships adrift in space. Others, they found their match in the city after the red war. I haven't wanted to look in those cemeteries. Can you imagine, having a guardian who's life is so freshly over? What would that do to them, and to the people that knew them? I don't really like the possibilities. Maybe in a few decades I will start to scan the graves of those we lost.

If I am very lucky, I will bring one back. It is fascinating, that even now children are born that may yet become guardians. Who knows, if you die maybe you'll be my guardian. Oh, I'm due to deliver more engrams. A fireteam just ran a strike protocol and someone has to make sure they get anything valuable they left behind. I'm not sure if talking has helped but I do hope it has shown that ghosts aren't drones or aliens. I think humans and their divergent paths are the closest thing to a family ghosts will ever have.

[nightfallguardian]

D.6

He's out there someplace. I've seen him. I suppose I should backtrack a little, fill in some missing bits for those who are missing the most. You city folks have urban legends, scary stories. Silly stuff like vaults full of ghosts being kept so there aren't more guardians, that the Earth is flat, and so on. We have some ourselves, ones like a group of iliksni guardians, of weapons that are almost magical. We also have our scary stories. Everyone has heard whispers of a dark heart in thorny halls, a labyrinth of bone and screams. Some of these places exist, some don't, others are some sort of quantum superstate in between realities. Between the light, vex, hive, darkness... There are so many things we don't quite grasp. In these places, things... Change.

The city knows these things, even in whispers and legends. None of what I'm saying is new, or troubling. Hell, you can hear about the same in bars on the weeks end. But there's a legend I hadn't heard of before, one guardians don't bring into the light often or for long. Guardians lost to us are another subject that brings up the same sort of stillness, the dying of laughter and the darkening of eyes follow some stories, some words.

I was out in the reef, since we've been allowed back I've taken a turn at the whole curse thing out there. It's unsettling, watching the whole place get torn up, killing fields of the enemy only to have nothing change week after week. Makes my skin crawl, lights truth. So I walked away from it, started poking around the reef. Easy friends and loot out there, but both will cost you a chunk of glimmer. I had bought some... Information. A little tussle had gone down outside the reef. Some hive, some fallen, some mercenary group: the players didn't matter really. It was the salvage that had eyes drifting that way. Usually weapons could survive a tussle, the odd armor bit, components mostly, and matter you could deprogram into glimmer. That was the biggest draw. Ships and armor have a lot of super fine, reprogrammable parts. Makes em able to self repair, and it makes them easy to scavenge.

I made it out to this desolate corner of asteroid belt, and there it is. Tussle is too small of a word for what I found. Tomb ships, a couple of skiffs, and a few guardian lugs all dead in space. Debris field was huge, and my palms were itching just thinking of all the junk I could scrap in the two days I had paid spider for. My ship is a small half ring affair, with field generators that give me a bubble of air and working space so I can salvage without cutting bits up and bringing them through an airlock or any other nonsense. Makes me one of the fastest being able to just skim along and place a working bubble on the most valuable parts quick and easy. My ship is mostly air tanks, storage, and those generators. High profit margins, but it cost me to build. I'm still paying on parts of it, prototype bits and such. Will be for decades probably, thank you Bray and Holliday.

So there I was, about eighteen hours in, working on the port guns of a tomb ship. The exotic coils in those sell for quite a bit. I had the bubble up, my ghost Andre was sorting and cleaning the salvage as we went, business as usual. Then Andre pinged me. One of the guardian ships wasn't too beat up, and the scans were showing some high grade alloys inside. Scans wouldn't penetrate, which means weapons, or valuable black market items. It was half jammed into a broken tomb ship. Weal passed slowly through a debris cloud, hive bodies and awoken floating peacefully in space. The salvage I was heading to suddenly woke up, swinging away from the tomb ship. It had nosed in, not been stuck at all. Lights flickered on, and a small cannon shot twice. One hit my sensor array, the other bored right into the engine cowling.

Pirates. Dark guardians, had to be. A short range radio transmission told me to shut down and wait to be boarded. I was dead in space, so I shut down. I was just about to tell my ghost Andre to flee, Rez me later, when I saw one of the bodies move. It looked like a hunter, with the signature cape. As it rotated in the void I could see his face.

Two dull yellow eyes glared through a broken exo face at the darkness. It had to be a trick of the light, he was spaced. Dead. That kind of damage had to have killed the guy even if space couldn't. If his ghost was alive, he wouldn't be here.

As the pirate ship moved in, the dead exo kicked off the corpse of a hive knight next to him, and I guess the ship noticed. Banking hard, it tried to bring it's guns up, but it was too late. The ruin-faced hunter was already on the ship, doing something. I couldn't see, I didn't want to see. I was quickly trying to fire up my auxiliary power. There was a flash of bright light, that was also dark somehow. A shockwave caused my ship to groan, I realized something exploded. It had to be the pirate ship, shooting at me or the guardian. I looked up, into a pair of yellow, deadly eyes. One flickered softly, but neither eye wavered. His face... It looked worse up close. Broken, raw edged metal thrust forward like the teeth of some nightmare beast, electricity sparking behind all the damage now and then. He pointed at me, then over my shoulder to the small airlock I had for repairs. He wanted in.

I knew that if I didn't let him in, I would probably live only long enough to regret it. I opened the exterior hatch. Once he was inside, he quickly went over my haul. Pulling components with remarkable dexterity, he had filled a little sack in about a half hour. They were parts that sold for more than triple their weight in glimmer, with broken rifles, and a host of other odds and ends. I didn't speak, and neither did he. I had a feeling speaking first would hurt. A lot. The broken faced exo pulled out a ghost, a dark shell with a red eye scanned the bag and transmatted it, glancing at us before it too vanished. The broken faced exo came to me then, looking into my eyes. He didn't go for his rifle, or his hand cannon. Instead he stabbed me, with a metal shiv broken off one of the bigger bits in my hold. It wasn't immediately fatal, but I could tell it would be. I gasped in surprise. My ghost immediately came out cursing him, trying to heal me.

Ruin-face grabbed him, I heard Andre beep in pain. He took a black knife from his chest and held it to Andres eye. Making it very clear he was in control. He motioned me to the floor, where I laid on my face, fear pumping through my veins. He set Andre right next to my face, straddling me, he wrenched off my left glove. He carved something into the back of my hand.

He said "I'm sorry, Friends. But needs must." In a surprisingly rough but sane voice. He put a slip of paper on Andre like a little hat, and transmatted out. The paper was a warning, and an invitation.

Friend.

There are secrets to be had. Fighting is good, making the enemy afraid is better. More danger comes, though not always from where you would believe. On the darkest day, find me. You will know the way.

I was found a bit later, dead on my ship. He had planted a small charge in the airlock, and a vacuum doesn't agree with humans missing helmets. Andre set off the alert beacon. Spider had a crew grab me, for a fee naturally. There was no note, and the mark on the back of my hand is gone. But I know it's there, I can feel it now and then, I could trace it in my sleep... I've brought up Ruin-Face to dozens and dozens of guardians who frequent the grey zones. The edges of safe space, where dark creeps in and light fades. All of them laugh at my silly story, the urban myth of Ruin-Face. But I watch. I have sharp eyes, it comes from scavenging. They all laugh at me, yes; but some of them laugh while rubbing the back of their left hand...

[nightfallguardian]

Destcember 5

I don't really know who I am. I uh, I was a baker? It's strange. I can walk through the city and strangers stop me. I've been to my home, visited neighbors I've lived next to for years and have no memory of. I have a name, but I still don't really associate it with me, if that makes sense. I guess I should start at the beginning. My beginning.

My name is Erro Caol. Or it was? I am a baker. I was, a baker. When the red legion hit, my shop took a stray rocket. We figure I was still inside. At least, I remember waking up in a crater. The old Erro, he was quiet. Shy. He made bread, rolls and loaves, twists and baguettes, braided fancy things for celebrations and hearty dense loaves for families. The books that survived showed that he, I, used to barely turn a profit. I barely covered running costs and materials, but I was good to the community. They were good to me. We were all a family. A community of friends who all helped the least fortunate of us, through hard winter's with tight belts. At least, that's how they tell it.

I remember waking up in a crater. There were people everywhere, cleaning up and moving debris. I woke up under a few beams, in a small depression in the earth. Someone had buried me, a temporary grave before I could be taken care of properly. It happened all over the city I hear. I had been... Too damaged to move, they say. No one wants to talk about it much, and I don't blame them. It sounds... Well awful. And to think I was all...

When I shoved aside the beams to squeeze out, my ghost was talking to me. I was confused, the light was blinding and I was still shaking dirt out of my eyes, ears, hair. As I stumbled from my shallow grave voices came toward me. I stumbled, and these people caught me. I was helpless. No one yelled, no one panicked, there was murmurings from all around, and a few soft voices we're talking to me. I wasn't afraid, not exactly, but it was comforting. Water was brought, and someone apologized for it not being warm, and these people washed my eyes, face, hands, hair. I looked over to where I had risen, and the beams I moved were huge. I was so very strong, but I was absolutely without proper coordination. These people cleaned and clothed me, what I was wearing barely amounted to rags.

I spent the next few days helping them clear the streets, lay foundations for new buildings. The lot with the crater, where I rose, was left alone. The folks there, they wouldn't touch it. They treated it like blessed land, they would gently touch my shoulders and hands, murmuring thanks. Some knew who I had been. They greeted me excitedly, calling my name and asking about things I didn't remember. They changed once they learned about what I was now. They treated me like some sort angel, everyone was so kind and helpful, but distant. Careful around me, like they were afraid of offending me. I felt an... Itch is the closest word I can think of. For something. I was restless. They pointed me to the ruins of the old tower, and told me how to get to the new tower. That was a while ago now.

Now I am a Titan of the City. I've suffered a few deaths, killed snarling nightmares. I've seen other warrior angels like me, die. I've seen a guardian walk away from the fight, too full of blood and death to fight another battle. That's where I got this (he gestures to a sub machine gun on his thigh). I go back, to visit my community. It reminds me of why I can't ever stop. These people, they need someone to keep them safe. There is so much dark out there, that every light is precious and important. My crater is now a park. I've built a few benches, a pathway near the weathered crater has turned it into a little walking route. The crater is now a small pond, everyone keeps it clean of leaves and the odd scraps of windblown garbage. My grave... They leave things there. Odd coins, notes of thank you, small pretty stones.

I make it a point to have dinner with different families whenever I can. I try to buy things to cook, but no one wants to hear about it or take my glimmer. Instead, I bring things from outside the wall, for the garden. I'll leave them by the grave, for the man who passed away so I can live. Everyone respects that I don't want to learn too much about who I was. I know I was kind, helpful, friendly. That's still me, and that I thank the light for. They could sell some of the little trinkets in the garden, things from out there fetch a high price I've found out. But they don't. Whenever I go by, there is one person standing watch. No one's demanded it of them, yet every hour sees one of these citizens giving up their time, their sleep even, to watch over the garden. My heart swelled with such pride, I cried for the love of them all when I learned of this watch. I spent the dawning there, keeping watch. I wanted them to spend it with their families, their friends, instead of protecting the little park.

The man I relieved, brought back his family. In the snow, they set up a table and brought out food. Thick, crusty bread and a hearty stew, steaming in the cold. Another table followed, the neighbors to that park on either side saw them and brought candles and lanterns. As night fell, the stars came out on a street full of people, seats, tables. Every single person came out. We laughed, ate and drank. We told stories, and everyone was surprised at how human guardians were. I left out the deaths and dark stuff, that's not dawning material. At eleven, we all shared things we are thankful for, and everyone cried. I told them I was thankful for a reason to fight, and how each of them was family, how every house felt like home. We released a few lanterns, and we all gathered into the biggest, ugliest group hug you've ever seen. We watched the lights drift to the sky, lost among the drifting parts of the Traveller.

[nightfallguardian]

Destcember 4

Warlock, anonymous. Talking about the solar system.

Hey, I was told this was the room for the... Interview? Or whatever?

(kind of, we're trying to close the gap between people and Guardians, by having you record messages that we'll share on the VanNet and UserWeb respectfully)

Oh, that's quite smart actually. Well, let me start by introducing myself. I'm (-redacted at Guardian request-) and I travel the stars. I know most people see Guardians as any number of things, from special weapons and support, to some pretty outrageous rumors. Most of it ties in to what we do, which is keep the bad guys off balance and as far away from the city as we can. It takes us all over, and it's not always fun. But hey, even a planet hopping warlock needs a hobby, most guardians have one or even several. We have long lives, so some of our hobbies might seem silly at first glance. Mine does to most people. See, I breed pigeons. It started when I saved a few from a bad nesting spot in the hangar of the old tower. I had a few little chicks and decided hey, why not raise them and let them go? Of course I did just that, but the pigeons came back to my small balcony to nest, with new birds that learned to trust me over time.

Well that all started... I want to say maybe a hundred and six years ago? Maybe a little longer. Now I raise and cross breed them to sell as pets to city children. I actually have a small shop now, nestled right in with about twenty other pigeon breeders in the city *laughs*. We trade birds and stories, a few are run by regular families. One shop is on it's fifth owner from the same family, and they all come to guardian breeders for funny stories about their parents and bird lineage. Human lifespans tripled with the arrival of the Traveler, but a guardian with good records is still a hard used resource! We talk alot about how to rear birds, when to give them freedom, if some places use trackers vs those that don't. Birds are like people, they aren't really fond of cages. Oh, I'm sorry.

I know you here in the city have a hard time, stuck behind the walls. After the red legion attack... Well, I know there has been a push from citizens to allow them outside. I agree with the citizens on this. It's your life to live, and even the safest walls can feel like a cage after a while. Now you can't go everywhere we can, some places are too dangerous, even some guardians are kept out until they prove themselves. Let me tell you about one such place.

Nessus. It's a large celestial body overrun with Vex. You've all seen picts and heard of them. Spooky robots full of milk that are crazy about simulations, and dataforming all life. Well on this hunk of rock, they've almost completed that process. It's dangerous, between the natural hazards and vex machines around, it's not a fun place to be. But even on a crazy alien world like that, there's life. Even birds! Well, sort of. See, they're more like flying lizards, small warm blooded bat/lizard creatures. They're a fascinating study because the vex don't seem to bother them. They have digitized all life on Nessus, coded everything they can, except these guys. So naturally... I started breeding them. Studying their patterns of migration, nesting and so on. And you wouldn't believe the results! The birds follow small insect swarms, their main food. These swarms congregate and mate wherever vex activity lessens, so anyplace electrical radiation dips below a certain point. Boom, swarms of bugs and the lizards that hunt them. And the clever creatures can not only sense electrical radiation, but heat as well. None of them ever try and drink from the radiolarian pools or streams, they always nest where vex machinery keeps the temperature of their nest a constant 100 degrees or near enough. That leaves the parents free to forage and eat, no egg sitting necessary!

Sorry that's probably alot of extra junk no one cares about, but a hobby is usually something you're passionate about *laughs* and I love birds and flying space lizards I guess. The lizards noticed me studying them, the nests, and so on. I watched as old lizards who were on their last legs would drink radiolarian fluids and dissolve, prompting a swarm of insect feeding. They wouldn't eat those insects, like a funeral almost. Such is the strange circle of life on Nessus. I said I have been breeding them, but if I'm honest, the first clutch of lizards was given to me. I call them Flysards, I don't know if they've been categorized and named yet but that's how I named em. Anyways, a female came and landed near my ships ramp, and started watching me. When I went to enter my ship, she walked up and followed me in, waiting by the hatch. She knew it would open. She was studying me, I felt it, these Flysards were intelligent! She followed me in, found the warmest spot in the cabin (which was my water boiler, for tea) and promptly laid me three eggs. Then she left. I waited two weeks for her to come back, she never did.

So after a month, they hatched. I used some spare parts and scrap to build a home for them and came back here to the city for supplies, books on Nessus, everything I could get. When I made it back, four full grown Flysards had moved in with the chicks! I paid a friend to run my shop while I started an experiment in breeding aliens. Six months later, I had a hidden bunker full of them. More and more keep coming. Ill place a male and female together based on traits I like such as color or body mutations, and a few months later they bring me two or three chicks! Like cats, these birds have domesticated themselves for a mutually beneficial relationship. I provide a safe warm series of nesting sites, and they seem to like my company and fresh water. They have an uncanny ability to detect incoming vex as well, they always flock off before any wander through my little sanctuary; I'd love to lease them out individually to guardians studying Nessus, as early warning systems... But I don't think the vanguard will approve of them. We aren't allowed to bring things back to the city unless it's cleared through the vanguard and passes strict testing for safety.

I had one of the Flysards stot away in my landing gear once. The hangar quarantined my ship, took the little stow away and enacted 'biological quarantine regulations persuant to earths wildlife sanctity act'. Which is a fancy way of saying they gassed and then cremated the poor guy, because he might have germs or bacteria that would be harmful to earth species. I understand the worry, plenty of data exists on non native species wiping out competition and wreaking havok on native ecosystems and the cycle that they support. I wish I had the chance to take him home first, all he wanted was to see more. Is it too late to go anonymous for this?

(no, not at all. You can edit this if you'd like before we release it, even re record the whole thing)

Good. What I'm about to say wouldn't sit well with my vanguard superiors, and I'm not supposed to be breeding space creatures, even if all I do is pair them up and they do all the rest. Anyways, what I have to say is this:

Don't let the vanguard and the city keep you from seeing more. Outside these walls, there is death. Pain. Hunger. Risks, some big ones. But out there.. that's where we belong. This is OUR world, these are OUR lives to live, to gamble with and even lose. If you want to see the sunset from behind walls every day, I applaud you. I support that choice. If you want to see the sunset from outside the walls, I support that choice as well! I am here to tell you it is your right, to demand that choice. You deserve the right to choose where you live, where you die. We all do.

[nightfallguardian]

Destcember 3

Human defender, last city.

So, why am I here exactly?

(*off camera* this month we're talking to people of the city. We want all sorts of views, ideas, things you want to tell others and so on. Kind words, criticism, it's all open topics)

Oh. So I can say anything I want? What about Shit? Or fuck?

(no censorship or editing unless you ask for it)

Wow. Alright, I'm Amara Tovien, and I'm a specialist in city defence. My job is to protect the city. That's the official job description, anyways. My actual job, is to spot for enemies and call in Guardian support. I'm a glorified spotter for our undying overlords. I'm not ashamed to say it. That's why I'm not doing this anonymously. I understand the reason we don't engage, because if we die that's it. No second chances. But this city was started by regular people, built on the deaths of many who never got a ghost. Most of the city kids dream of getting a ghost. Their heroes are Guardians, they thank Guardians for their service and so on. What about the cities founders? What about people like Hawthorn who only have one life, and spend it saving the city? I've watched guardians dive headlong into stupid fights, and still win because they can't die. I don't really care about a fair fight as long as humanity wins out, but damn. And some of these guardians are just absolutely stupid. Dancing in a combat zone? Why?

Oh get this. So I was shopping with some family, one of my cousins was turning twenty so we wanted to get her something special. Welcome to adulthood special. We ended up in some really fancy shops near the tower, you know the ones. All full of top tier stuff, from clothes to cutlery, food to furniture. The glimmer prices on some of this stuff was just, wow. But all of us could see it was worth it. Everything was geared to catch the eyes of guardians. Just absolutely over the top in some cases! We didn't have that kind of glimmer to just waste on a golden age reproduction couch, so we started to go through all the shops. I'm not upset at the cost, or how much glimmer these guys can just toss around. If they earn it, spend it. What makes me furious, is a roped off area around the base of the tower. You know what the sign says? "Beware Falling Guardians".

I've watched them hit the ground, full armor just *smacks palm on table* boom. And they Rez and keep going. I've heard them talk about it being faster than an elevator. I've heard of them just fucking around way up on their mount Olympus, falling down here and reviving up top. It's the casual waste of their lives, this immortality that absolutely enrages me. Who are you to be so cavalier about death, risks, when you can't really die?! There's an old city tale, about a guardian who was being foolish. I mean, we all get juiced up now and then and act stupid, but this one was a cut above stupid. See, they tied one on and decided to surf their ship. I can't go off planet but these fucking morons get to surf their goddamn ships. As I was saying, this Guardian starts surfing their ship, drunk, and guess what happens? Guess.

(they fall off?)

Boom, right in one. Yeah, they fall off. Big deal right? They'll just get back up, who cares. Well this Guardian fell, from about a thousand feet and some change, and landed on someone. I wasn't there, but I've heard from someone who was. They showed me pictures, of a small divot in the pavement, and the rust stain of blood around it. Just because you're immortal, doesn't mean we should be in danger. The Traveler extended our lives, yeah. That's a fact. It also brought about our so called golden age. I haven't seen a golden age so jury is still out on that. It also brought the fallen, who want the Traveller. I know it brought war. The red legion. The death of thousands in the city, when they invaded. The robot guys, who are trying to take over planets. I've heard stories about walking nightmares on the moon, what happened at Saturn...

Humanity didn't ask for this. We've been conscripted into some hellish war with who knows what, because the Traveller needed pawns. Well I'm no pawn. My mother didn't raise a fool of a girl, and I say we kick the Traveler out. And if the Guardians follow their broken little ball of a god, so much the better. if I ever die, and a ghost brings me back? I'd have this to tell myself. Shoot that damn thing, and then shoot yourself. We will not be used by that thing.

[nightfallguardian]

Destcember 2

Anonymous Titan video. Subject: the Day Light died.

There we were. *Points to the sky* rings of Saturn. Crucible match. Some guys come in for a quick bit of glimmer, maybe a few bounties for Lord Shaxx. I never liked that, personally. You should want to be there, testing your light against others. Guardians are the elite, world savior's and God slayers. If there's any way to sharpen your light, it's there. It's our duty to one another, and to the kinderguardians to give our all. To kill them, to teach them how not to be killed again.

*laughs* sorry, I'm obviously very passionate about the crucible. We can go into what it means to me and all that someday. But you asked about the day Light was captured. It's a pretty way of saying it, I guess. For us Guardians, it was like something was ripped away. It was the crushing weight of mortality so long forgotten, settling on our shoulders. It was terrifying. So there I was, with my team. Mid match. Heavy ammo had dropped, and one of blue team grabbed it. Nah I was red team that day. So we had been clashing in the center with the curved stairwells, outriders covering each side made flanking a nightmare. So it was scouts and snipers mostly, hammering across the open bit. The odd super disrupting things, sure, but we fell back into trading blows soon enough. Well I see a guy coming round with a friggin tube on his shoulder. That means rockets, and depending on the shot it could mean a bad death. I popped my rally barricade, what? Oh right, a rally barricade is light, but forced into a wall. Some guys make em short, so they can peek over them. A few guys with them can easily leap frog into more solid cover, a good tactic when fighting cabal incidentally. Anyways, I make mine tall. I'm talking a slightly curved wall, two and a half meters tall and almost three wide. I cracked it off right as launcher boy pulled the trigger.

*pop* it left the tube, and all of a sudden I weighed a million pounds. My barricade, which would've caught the rocket, was gone. This thing, it was coming straight at me. I mean helmet level. But I couldn't move, we had just lost the light, all of us. My armor was weighing me down, and without the light to help power it, I couldn't maintain a crouch. I fell down, and as emberassing as that is, it saved my life. I took some fragments. I've got scars, funnily enough. Hm? Oh *laughs* sorry, I forget this is for everyone. For you fighters without ghosts, you've got scars and stories for each one. For us, when we're hurt or we die, the light brings us back or fixes us. No scars, not bruises. That's why a guardian with scars now, is such a big deal. Either you were far from the light and ended up in a bad way, or you got them that day. I would've bled out, I think. Some Exo hunter from the other side came over, friggin guy knew first aid. I'm talking normal human first aid. *Sighs* He saved my life. I used to have some ideas about Exos being dangerous. Not being a true part of humanity. When he took off my helmet, and I saw his eyes... Exos are us. I couldn't doubt their humanity after that, and light burn me for ever doubting it before. He stopped the bleeding, stabilized me. A hunter behind me... He wasn't so lucky.

One of red team, a warlock I think, he knew the hunter. Both were awoken see, they were friends that ended up on both sides of the match. It happens more often than you'd think. Turns out, these two were close. When the hunter died, and his ghost just sat there silently the warlock couldn't stand it. *He taps a hand cannon on his thigh* put one in his own head. When his ghost came out, it just floated weakly, it's purple eye dim and unsteady. I... May I have a moment?

(in the background, a voice says something indistinct, but it sounds like an affirmative)

It was a bad day. A dark day, in many ways. The Hunter who saved me, took the bodies with him. Last I heard both have come back, but they're different. What's that? Oh I don't mean weird, or strange. I just mean dying, really dying what could've been the last death, changed those guys. You couldn't separate them for anything now. I'm getting side tracked here. The point of me doing this, recording. Interview. Statement. Whatever, I had a goal. And that is to tell you, Guardians, and you, people fighting without Ghosts; we are family. Bury your prejudice, let go of grievances. When the light dims and the night closes in, we are all that we have. We are all that keeps humanity through each night. The day the light died, it changed everything. I like to think it changed me for the better. I hope it can be used to change us all, for the better.

(The Titan human male stands, tall and proud he looks into the camera.)

I am proud of you, Guardians. You fight and die and come back over and over, never stopping to push back against the dark.

I am proud of the militia, and the people who took up arms on that darkest of days and stood shoulder to shoulder, facing down what was supposed to be our end.

I am honoured by the sacrifice made by all who fell, protecting one another, the children of the city and their families. I have seen footage of guardians, lightless, charging the enemy to save citizens. And I have seen citizens take up guardian weapons and protect those guardians who were hurt, children who saved Ghosts from cabal guns and feet and cleavers.

I am proud of the strength and unity each of you showed; I am humbled by the bravery and strength in the hearts of all people. I will carry you with me, for inspiration and strength.

*He turns, to display his mark. A white background contrasts sharply with a stylized black hand cupping a dark grey ghost*

I had this made, for that day. And now I'm not the only Titan wearing one, but I am wearing the first. The black background is to mourn those no longer with us. The hand, represents the people who protected those in need. The Ghost, is for Guardians, protectors and the protected in those dark, horrible days. If you see this mark, or a grey ghost projected with a black hand on a warlock bond, or a hunter with a hand and ghost on their cloak, ask them their story. Ask them of the day light died. This sigil is for those who were saved, those who died, and the memory of those who were taken forever. It is a scar, the mark of a story. And also, a mark of thanks.

[nightfallguardian]

Destcember 1

Cayde-6 x Reader, female.

Cayde and you, in the ruins at the start of the red war.

You are magnificent. I'm telling you, you burned with the light of a million supers; absolutely blinding. I don't mean the big, brute kind of slam a Titan pulls, or the scary destruction of a Nova bomb, or even the deadly glow of a golden gun. I'm talking pure, white light. You shone brighter than the Traveler with that stunt. Usually, I'm not one to be outshone if I'm being honest, but between you and me? You won. Just don't tell too many people, I'd be out of work.

Sshhh, I'm here beautiful. Just rest for a sec, 'kay? Moves like that are exhausting, and you don't even have a ghost. Not that a ghost... Lights acting funny with all these big space rhinos around, my ghost is basically a paperweight right now. A mouthy one. You... You saved me, you know. The building that went over back there? I was on it, the roof. Well, a big hole near the top anyway. *Kpreeeeeewwww* down it goes, and I'm riding it like a sparrow as smooth as can be...

Hm? You saw that? Ok, maybe it wasn't so sparrow-smooth. Like a spin cycle on a clothes washer? It wasn't that bad! Well, maybe it was. Point is, when I hit the street I could hardly see which way was up. It felt like a warsat had just landed on me. I see you smiling there, for the record that only happened once. I think. Where was I...

Yeah the street. There was that Psyon, just standing over me, bringing his rifle up. I felt the barrel on me, the weight of it as he lined up his shot. You've seen the streets, the fighting. You know us Guardians aren't getting back up, not like the stories. You hit that thing so hard I felt it, swept it clean off it's feet. Looked like a hammer in your hands, that bit of rebar and concrete. And when he got back up, I was scrambling for my Ace, but you already had it, didn't you? You ever fire a gun before?

Sorry, hard to hear you over the rest of this noise. First time. Well, you dear are an absolute natural. I mean, that guy started to draw on you, and you pulled Ace up like a magic trick. Just... Pop, there it is, and you pulled the trigger on him as cool and calm as I've ever seen. That round, swear on my Ghost here, went right in the eye hole of it's helmet. You know how long it took me to learn to do that myself? Blew him away and me too, really. I tried to hit the second one with my throwing knife. But I was still rattled, and I missed. Like a gunslinger, you turned your Ace on him too.

I'm sorry. I had been having a little shoot out on the roof before and... I hadn't reloaded yet. The hammer fell on an empty. That Psyon sent a shockwave at us and you... You know what I saw? Yeah it's getting dark out. Hold my hand, I've got my cloak over you. That's better. Hm? Oh right, what I saw. You saw this little monster doing something, and you looked back at me. You tossed me Ace, and spread your arms. You crazy, beautiful woman, you caught that shockwave. You caught it, and even though you don't have armor, you don't have a ghost, for a moment you were flying. My brilliant, glowing Angel, you guard the Guardians. I reloaded and here we are, cuddled up in the rubble while you get to feeling better.

Thank me? No, no, thank you. I'm sure we'll get someone by here soon and with a few bandages you'll... Please. You can make it, it's... I love you too. Just hold my hand. Cayde, that's me, what's your name. I need to know who to give the medal to. Hey. Hey... Please don't... Don't be gone. You, you were so selfless. I... I'll come back for you. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. If I could've teleported us away... Nessus.

The Ace of spades sang long into the darkness, that red night. Each shot found an eye, a throat, a crack in a wall of armor. She was guarding him still, guiding every single shot. He never got her name, but he never forgot her face.

[nightfallguardian]

Role play excerpt :

"we-" Goliath started to reply, when a faint noise outside caught his attention. He dashed to the door, a quick slide carrying him through the little tunnel. He eased out of the doorway slowly, following the noise. Two packs of cabal, and a Valus with a mini gun. As he watched, another ship left from behind the neighboring building. A pack of flamers and a large rabble of dogs came out as another dropship dropped from the sky into cover.

"clever fucking move for cabal. Malo secure our channel with Sirius and Cass. Cass, Sirius, problems. Lots of cabal. I'm looking at... Thirty or so mixed infantry and phalanx, ten flamers, dozen or so dogs and a Valus. Oh, he's got some of those Leviathan guard. Big ones with the blasters and missles. Fuck you call em? Whatever. There's six. They've been using the next building over to deaden the whine of their ships, that's why we didn't hear them landing at first."

He crawled slowly to a pillar and peeked around it, keeping his cloak up to break up his silhouette. He didn't see a single defining color, no badges. These could be sand eaters, red legion, special light-damned forces probably. Something jerked on his right forearm, hard. He looked down and saw his forearm looked aloth different then he remembered. It was almost severed, the components and wiring, tubing and everything that makes an Exo splayed out like a broken stick, or the fanned cards of a magicians trick. The pain hit as the rifle crack washed over him.

"Hhhnnng... Cass. Sirius. Stay in. Cover." he said clenching his jaw so hard it almost locked. "Psyon sniper. High power kit. Gotta be new. Think these are special operations, experimental weapons all that." he said, gasping at just how much it hurt. why do robots need pain anyways he thought to himself. "Can't heal in the open. Too bright. Hold the door open for me."

It had to have come from the other building. Otherwise he would've taken a round to the face. As he stood up, he noticed another hole, in his cape and his left thigh. Tandem shots, damn them. He tested his leg, it hurt a lot less than his arm, he'd make it. Quickly he dropped a smoke bomb off to his right, as he dodged left toward the doorway. Two shots cut whorls into the smoke, and he crashed heavily into the door frame. Guess the leg isn't that good after all he thought with a grimace.

A high ululating whine cut through the night air, and the building below Goliath spat forth a horde of Vex. Ranks of goblins phased forward, slap rifles snapping at the cabal. Phalanxes quickly took position, shields digging into the sand. A few legionaires fell, but the return volley ripped the goblins apart. Radiolarian fluid, and glittering alien metals dances through the air as vex after vex was brought down under a concentrated barrage of disciplined fire.

Like a body sensing an infection, the Vex response intensified. Goblins with slap rifles now had support goblins with torch hammers in their ranks. A few hobgoblins were deployed, quickly engaging in bitter long range warfare with the Psyons. Green and red lines criss-crossed between the buildings. The air thrummed with heavy cabal munitions, rockets leaving pockets of slowing arc energy detonating with heavy, overlapping booms counterpoint to the high whine of minotaur now deploying with trace weaponry.

Goliath saw none of this, but the sounds were there. The hum of a fight was there. His palm itched for the comforting grip of his cannon, the kick of the recoil and the smell of spent casings the helmets can't quite filter out. He pulled Malo out in the small room, as Cass came speeding to him. A pulse of light, and his leg was fixed. Two more pulses, and his arm was whole again. Flexing away the fading pain he looked to Cass as she stood over him.

"I did not start that." he says thumbing toward the apocalypse outside.