#like the man they called cayde?? gunslinger?? keep of voices?

[theforsakenprince]

the forsaken ost did not need to go that hard but I'm so glad it did

[the-gunslock]

Hiver 2 - Gunslock

This is the story of how I got this title months ago, and why I stuck with it.

At the dawn of a new day, Hiver and her two Hunter clanmates, Selene and Reyla, were off to seek their allies in the Tower Courtyard, joking the whole way. They are immortal, but they love to make every second count.

“…Hawthorne went ‘Dead Orbit?’ and I was like–”

“Gunslock.”

They heard someone shout. All of them got confused and tried to find the source of the call. Turns out it was two Hunters who were loitering near the railings, looking at Hiver’s fireteam. They approach them. Selene, although confused, decides whatever they have to do for the day is more important than these two.

“Uhm. Can we help you?” She asks in annoyance, hoping to get it over with soon.

“Yeah, this one Warlock here…she made a name for herself around her fellow Strike fireteams. You, as Hunters, oughta be ashamed of it.” One of the Hunters, an Awoken, replies to them, scratching his chin, voice full of venom.

“What does Gunslock even mean.” Hiver questions flatly.

“It means,” the second one steps up, replying beneath his rusty greenish Prodigal Mask, “that you’re doing a better job at being a Gunslinger than actual Gunslingers.”

Hiver’s hand unconsciously floats over her thigh where her cannon is stored.  “A… Gunslinger… Warlock?”

“Ya think just because you got a Cayde’s fancy Hand Cannon,” He points towards her replica of the Ace of Spades, “and can shoot some heads, it means you can try to step into our turf?” He asks, his body language smug and accusatory. It almost feels like a challenge.

“I’m better than them?” Hiver turns to her friends, puzzled. “…Am I better than you? I know I was revived a bit earlier, but…” Both shrug. Hiver turns back at the Hunter, eyebrow raised.

They trade looks, impatient. The Awoken one transmats on his white Floating Cowl helmet and makes a proposition. “How about a showdown, smartass? Braytech, Mars, one hour. Bring your best cannon.”

Hiver shrugs at this situation. “Sure, I think. Just gotta do our thing here at the Tower.”

The Hunters transmat away, into their ships. The clanmates go get their bounties and soon they’re also on their ships, on their merry way to Mars.

“An actual ‘standoff’. I thought these only existed in fiction.” Trinity, Hiver’s Ghost, comments, bobbing beside her in the ship’s cockpit.

“Something’s not right. They felt crooked to me.” Reyla states, thinking out loud. “These guys are weird. Hiver, be careful.”

Trinity looks at Hiver in worrying. “Do you girls mind watching my back?” The Warlock indulges, arms behind her seat’s headrest.

“Sure. I’ll keep them on the other side of my scope.” Reyla replies, loading her Long Shadow sniper.

“Selene?”

“I’ll do the best I can.” The other Hunter loads a clip into her Jade Rabbit scout rifle. “Joan,” she whispers to her own Ghost. “Patch through to Ana. Send that footage, tell her that this could be dangerous. Just in case.”

They exist Slipspace and quickly enters Mars’ orbit. The three guardians meet in front of the BrayTech Futurescape, right beside Rasputin’s Escalation Protocol pillar. Ana is looking on from inside her headquarters with her optic enhancements.

Hiver, laid back, left hand on her belt and right one near her thigh, is facing the first Guardian, the one with the Prodigal Mask. His stance was alert, almost predatory, and his gauntlets were crude, with metal crooked and bent in all directions; If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought it was just improvised armor. 

However, her miserable Crucible matches made her aware that these bent blades were a piece of Exotic armor – Shards of Galanor. On his leg, a black gun with green lights, one she didn’t immediately recognize.

But she had a hunch. One that gave the duel higher stakes if she was right.

Trinity was out of sight, playing an old, pre-Golden Age song. Intense, instrumental, said to be a theme of a famous movie about duels of old Hunters. Perched in the unused trains to the east, Reyla sat with her sniper at the ready. Peeking from around a corner, Selene was ready to run in at any sign of danger.

The Hunter’s companion was nowhere to be seen. Hiver’s Eye of Another World helmet highlighted an enemy behind her, so she could only assume it was him, and not some stray Hive Acolyte. Escalation Protocol was not active. It seems they went a great length to clear out the showdown area.

The music only got more intense as time went on, and the Hunter spoke.

“You shouldn’t get that close, lady.”

“I’m like ten meters away from you.” Hiver said, her hand begging to draw Ace at any moment.

“No.”

The other Hunter, using his crisp-white Sixth Coyote vest, has managed to quickly close the gap behind the Warlock, putting her in a full Nelson hold.

She can’t move.

He’ll probably break her shoulders or neck. She silently panics for a while, while her clanmates are listening in on the comms, trying to understand just what is going on.

The first Hunter takes some steps towards them and takes his gun, fiddling with it. “Looking for his cannon too, are ya? You do not know what you’re getting into by going after ‘every Hand Cannon that exists.’” He said, nodding at her leg where Ace was holstered. “Think you could convince that foolish rat with his little game at the Tower into turning a blind eye to your ‘collecting’? He prolly did.”

He twirls his bulky gun in his hand before turning it towards the Warlock’s head. It reeks of death.

“But we didn’t. You’re gonna have to get this one eventually. And when you do… you’re sealing the deal of who you really are… Dredgen.”

Trinity sends a sign to Reyla. At the same time she shoots the cannon out of the Hunter’s hand, Hiver unleashes a Thunderstrike out of her hands into her captor, who is staggered and lets her go. She elbows him in the face and notices the Prodigal Hunter leaping into the air, channeling Solar energy to his knives. The white-armored hunter behind her is trying to grab ahold of her again, this time with his knife in hand.

Selene jumps out of cover and manages to shoot his chest with Jade Rabbit and cause him to flinch, giving Hiver the chance to blink forward as the Prodigal Hunter launches his Blade Barrage, mistakenly hitting and killing his ally.

Mirroring Cayde’s performance in the Prison of Elders, Hiver uses her blink momentum to slide under the airborne hunter and shoot him in the chest and throat with Ace, causing him to lose all chance of a smooth landing and crashing near his friend, almost dead.

The Warlock catches her breath and examines the Prodigal’s gun as she walks past. She recognizes its luminescent, arcane smoke. The otherworldly fear that this one gun represented – just now pointed towards her.

Thorn.

It’s back. She didn’t even know.

She holsters Ace and walks up to their bodies. The first Hunter, who wore white armor themed after the Trials of the Nine, laid deceased and his body bled from where the Prodigal Hunter’s knives hit. The other wasn’t dead, but was choking and struggling to breathe.

“Shadow.” She said, her voice full of spite over almost ending all her lives to the hand of two insane, power-hungry vermin.

He coughs. “Yeah… So what?” He tries getting up, but simply doesn’t have the strength. “You think yourself a hero, like… like the Man with the Golden Gun?” He points towards his fallen Thorn. “D’you dare to use the Dark… if it meant you got what you wanted?”

Hiver remained silent. He continues. “You two… are just as foolish. We… we do. It’s… heh– incredible. Addicting. And… there’s…” wheeze “so many more. You think… you can out-shoot us all?”

Having enough of this man, Hiver plants a foot on his chest and puts one of Ace’s bullets through his head. She twirls it and puts it back on her leg. Even though she has that wish to grant herself – she doesn’t dare touch the Shadow’s Thorn. Her connection to the Light feels rotten by even coming near it.

Reyla and Selene are slowly coming to rendezvous, guns still in hand. Ana has contacted the Vanguard and is reporting the situation to them. Trinity pops out of transmat near Hiver’s chest. “You know, they are Guardians too. They can just come back after you if they have Ghosts.”

With that, the squad hears the characteristic summoning of a Golden Gun. They all look back to see the bandits’ Ghosts being destroyed in two fiery explosions, the last one shattering the corrupted cannon on the ground.

Looking around, they spot the source. A meddling Gunslinger, wearing battered, outdated armor. But he stood with pride, and it showed, even though his face was covered by his visor. And, under it, perhaps a layer of satisfaction.

“Warlock. Hunters.” He greeted. His voice was deep, almost guttural. She greeted back with a thankful nod.

“Hello.”

The Hunter eyed the ashen bullet-hole that his Golden Gun left on the ground where Thorn was. He quickly turned to the fireteam, and all he uttered was a slow, very clear “Nice work”.

The Fireteam was ready to leave it at that and go on with their day.

That is until the Gunslinger turned around to leave and, under the swooshing motion of his tattered cloak, the women spotted the glint of a golden hand cannon on his leg.

[sapphic-scylla]

Cassus, The Devil of the Reef: Prologue and Forging of a God (Chapters 1 & 2)

(This is a Mass Effect/Destiny crossover so keep that in mind)

Prologue

Before the Traveler came, several races came together. One man investigated a beacon on a human colony on the outer rim of council space. What he found would kick start a war between the races of the Milky Way and a race of sentient machines.

This man was my great grandfather. Zachary Thomas Shepard was a Commander in the N7 Alliance Navy. Now, the timeline may sound fucked up, but that’s not true. As the war fell to a close and Zach’s decisions lead him to a crossroad, his gravitation towards the protection of the galaxy gave him the ability to destroy the Reapers once and for all.

Not without heavy casualties, the races began to rebuild. Before the war, the humans, asari, quarians, krogans, turians, and the rest of the races sent out a vanguard to the far off galaxy of Andromeda. This led to the colonization of a new civilization.

After the war on the Reapers, a new arrival caused the universe to flourish. A Golden age was upon them as a god had graced them with its blessing. This huge white ball called the Traveler. This ball blessed us with amazing tech, incredible healing abilities, and to many people it deemed worthy, immortality.

As this Golden Age settles in, my great grandfather fell in love with a quarian who was my great grandmother. Tali Shepard vas Normandy was a strong woman and a main inspiration for most of my life. Each of the heroes of the Citadel was gifted with that blessing of life and, with that, they decided to travel to Andromeda to protect and defend as well as start families.

Generations continued and, while in Andromeda, our family progressed to where I was born. As I grew I learned from all different sources until I turned six. I know my great grandfather and my extensive family is out there somewhere watching and praying for us as they watch from Andromeda.

My father eventually married my mother, coincidentally also a quarian, who was to be the last of her kind in the Milky Way.

Eventually, a small group of people desired to see the fruits of the Traveler more thoroughly. Several humans wanted to return to the Earth to begin a new life. Unfortunately, that was the plight of my grandfather as well as my father.

The rest decided to stay in Andromeda. Thanks to modern technology, she and my father were able to have four children together. I was the youngest and somehow was the only one to gain the traits of both races. Human in nature, but my eyes flowed a deep blue.

As my grandfather and the rest of our family stepped on a return ship leaving our great grandfamily behind, several years passed as we sat in cryosleep. As we reached earth.

Unfortunately, the god we had was also running from someone or something. That something was already there

Eventually, the universe began to take notice of where the Traveler was. The Earth and Solar system was attacked by heathen races vying for the Traveler. As we ferried into the atmosphere, we were shot down, thankfully with no casualties. As we bunkered down in Manhattan, we began to learn the history from the few that were left.

The Fallen scavengers attacked first. Then, the ritualistic Hive rained down nature’s vengeance, which just happened to be the ones that shot us down. They were followed by the time-traveling Vex and the relentless warmongers, the Cabal. With their attacks, they pushed us to the last remaining city on Earth, Vostok Russia.

I continued to grow up in the MDZ, or the Manhattan Dead Zone, as it became known as. Time moved forward as we defended our city and settlers. I eventually lost my grandparents in a raid by shadowy doppelgängers of the other races attacking we learned all too late were named “Taken.”

My father and mother became part of our small sectors leadership as descendants of the heroes of the Citadel. More details about life growing up will come later, but let’s just say life until I was 23 formed who I was as a man.

As we tried to push them back, the Traveler began blessing thousands and thousands of people with Light. These men and women were known by many names. Most of them were risen from the dead to aid the fight. These men and women became known as Guardians. As these demon forces began attacking our final city, this is where my story begins and ends and begins again.

Forging of a God

I’d always admired heroes. I never was one. I hid a mask of light over the shadow that consumed me. I always knew that my flip side would consume me one day, but most people like me had a lifespan. I did not. I was gifted immortality. Leader, savior, hero...all names I was saddled with. The only one I knew fit was killer.

I was one of the people that flocked to the mercy of the Traveler. Me and my best friend, Dredgen Yor, looked to it as a start of a new life, a change from who we were. We were 24 year olds who lost a sense of where the world was going. We knew our settlement was doomed and got what people we could out. We got as far as we could and thought we were safe. Just not as safe as we hoped.

We reached the outside of the wall when we were ambushed. Guns went off and explosions shook the ground. I yelled for people to get inside the wall as we held them off. As we fought off these demon creatures, I was shot in the leg and I knew it was over. Dredge died quickly. He was impaled and it was over. Me? They tortured me, left me to die, and all I saw before I blacked out after 3 days of the worst pain I’d ever experienced and the severing of all four of my limbs was a three-eyed swordsman from Hell, laughing as my head rolled away.

What feels like seconds later, I wake up in an unfamiliar skin. My limbs are all there, but a few feel metallic and rough. All except for my torso and the stumps of arms and a leg I had left were pure steel, parts, and stuff I can't explain. My face felt mechanical and strange.

I look up to see a pale, little box telling me in the most frantic yet sarcastic voice that we need to get inside the wall and that’s how I met Sapphire, my loyally sassy ghost. She’s a goofball, bubbly, and a weirdo most of the time, but she’s a nerd at heart and god help her, she knows more about me than I do and yet she loves me regardless. Strange, I don't remember the wall being that big.

As we move forward, I hear the foreign mumblings of what seems to be anger and interest. She finds me a Kvostov. Not my wheelhouse as I preferred pulse rifles and handcannons but I could never turn down a machine gun. As we took off in a derelict ship with not much more than guesses and questions as to what came next, I flew towards what felt like the right way.

I walk into the tower to see the first familiar face. Cayde-6, my old mentor, was waiting and somehow knew me from this new face. I guess considering he was an Exo now, an AI with the memories, emotions, and senses of a human, I shouldn’t be talking because I was in the same position. Guarantee he lost a bet to be saddled with tower duty. He was always a free spirit.

I guess all “Exos” had their own distinct personalities and mine stuck out like a sore thumb to him. He explained what had happened to me and filled me in on the beings in the wall. Fallen. Never heard of them, but they weren't who I was looking for. Cayde, being Hunter Vanguard, passed me a good hand cannon (he knew me too well) and said we have some work to do.

“These are gonna be just like your Hellfire days, dude. Only this time, you will actually be making a difference as actual heroes, not vigilantes. Do what you do best, Guardian. Welcome to the best of the best, the Hunters.”

Hellfire was a nickname I had gained in the MDZ. They said I could shoot a demon square in the face from a thousand miles away with a pistol. I wondered about the whole badass flaming pistol thing. I had always been a gunslinger by choice due to my weapon expertise and pinpoint precision, but with that and all of the throwing knives and grenades I could ever ask for, all of this could not be more amazing and perfect. I grew accustomed to these new powers, I began to wonder more of Dredgen and what of him.

“There are rules to being a part of the city’s Vanguard that you would do well to remember.” Zavala droned on.

God, this tour was long. I mean, I’m ADHD and overly hyperactive in my head at that, but, Jesus, it’s like Father Time was dragging a boulder the size of a krogan around with him. And why the hell were Titans so big. I felt like I needed a Sparrow to keep up with him.

“First, no researching past lives unless authorized by the Vanguard. You also must fill a patrol quota each week to make sure that everyone does their part.” He said, sternly.

I figured as much. That being said, my curiosity could kill nine lives off of the world’s luckiest cat.

“Also, only the Vanguard’s majority vote authorizes high-priority mission. We choose fireteams unless we trust the person’s initial choice. Any questions?” He finished.

“What is the capital of Assyria?!” I said in a witchy voice.

He literally just sighed and moved on. If he had to deal with Cayde, I can’t imagine how many of these jokes he had heard.

“On a serious note, where do I live?” I ask, honestly.

“We give glimmer for bounties, missions, patrols, and a finder’s fee for new tech, weapons, materials, and relics. You can use that to buy an apartment. We’re not picky as to where you stay as long as you report to the Vanguard regularly.” Zavala said.

“Fantastic.” I responded.

“Forge your light. Master your abilities. The more powerful and trustworthy you become, the more missions you get sent on and the more specialized weaponry we trust you with. Ever heard of a Gjallerhorn?” He asked.

“Wasn’t that, like, a rocket launcher forged by that old army of warriors?” I said, wondering where this was going.

“Correct. Gain our trust enough and maybe we will allow you to create your own. But not today. Good luck, Cassus. Make us proud.” He said as he trudged off.

A year passes and I guess a perk of being a guardian is that I’d be staying 24 forever. My body was already 30% armored steel but I wouldn’t be aging anymore, which is good. All of those mortal wounds didn’t hurt anymore which was brilliant. The Traveler had remade me and for that I’d be forever grateful.

Eventually, curiosity overtook me and, with permission from the Vanguard, aka Cayde signing me off ‘cuz he’s my bestie, I spent days in the Tower archives, digging out the remains of my past life. I spent hours, searching through pages and pages of scouting reports, histories, and biographies until I broke through. My brothers had been guardians. Pahanin and Praedyth. In fact, Pahanin’s old HMR was the first Exotic I’d been allowed to own. But his history was a different story completely.

Several decades ago, Kabr had been sent with my brothers into the Vault of Glass to investigate at the orders of none other than Osiris. Just when I thought I had avoided him for good. The Vex were the enemy that had attacked our town and forced us to evacuate. Their attempt at a foothold on Earth had lasted for a good year. Assault after assault we held them until they finally broke and forced us to make a run for the Last City. I had been split up from my brothers and my father. All I had was my best friend, Dredgen, and the very few refugees we could help escape. Until now. All of this was Osiris’ fault.

Osiris was a fanatic. He was unnaturally obsessed with the Vex and everything about them. Their networking, their hive mind, their terraforming, every aspect of them was something he wanted to dissect. He was also head of defense for our zone. Because he was eccentric, he was consistently dressed like a fucking Egyptian bird. See what I mean? So overly dramatic and egotistical.

What really bothered me was that he always put knowledge and curiosity before everything and everyone else in his life. He never gave a second thought to his own actions or the consequences. All he wanted was unlimited amounts of pure knowledge and if that meant risking a few humans’ and loved ones’ lives, so be it. However, the worst of it came about three years before my death.

The attack came when I was 21. It was a perfect summer sunset evening. I was about to switch out for the evening. Dredge and I matched schedules, so we would be meeting up soon for my “second job” as the city’s police force. Crisis and chaos can turn people nasty as all hell, so Dredge and I kept the piece the best way we knew how: through fear. As I walked in to Osiris to report on my watch, I found him tinkering with a Vex Hobgoblin.

“Osiris, what the hell are you doing?! This is not ok! This is going to end like the last time and someone else important is gonna die.”

“How will we know if we don’t study this?”

God, was he eccentric… “First of all, I am not a scientist, I am a bounty hunter. Second off, THIS” I said, shaking a Vex arm at him, “puts lives at risk! Great grandma Tali would not be ok with this! Shit like this almost destroyed the Migrant fleet! Society is crumbling. My mother died the last time you pulled a stunt like this!”

“But I’m so close! If I can backtrace to the main neural netw-“

“Osiris, the Vex have hive mind, if one of them got captured-“

I never got to finish.

For those of you who have never heard a Vex Mind scream, it is not something I can describe perfectly. It is a demonic screech of a vengeful machine god louder than anything you have or will ever hear. There are only a handful of things that were worse than what I heard that night. I ran out to see a Minotaur ten feet tall leading an army of other Vex, marching towards us in the distance.

“Evacuate…..EVACUATE!!!” I yelled at full volume.

“I can control them. If I use this unit-”

“Osiris, look outside, you ignorant bosh’tet! You can’t control that!”

“We can’t kill them, but if we can coerce them to fight for us, we can take back this planet! Our honor depends on…”

“DEPENDS ON WHAT EXACTLY?! Your obsession has saddled us into too many life risking situations already and for what!? Your own personal interest?! This planet or so you say?! My mother lost her life because YOU thought she could harvest their radiolarian fluid! And you think this is about HONOR?! Remember Javik’s words, Osiris? Stand on the mounds of hundreds of dead civilians YOU caused and ask them if honor matters. The silence is your answer.”

Those were the last words I said to him before we died. Words I had learned from the very last survivor of a an ancient dead race. I let those words echo in his brain before I stormed out to save the civilians.

That day, we lost everyone but the few families that Dredge and I could save along with a few orphans. Pahanin and Praedyth were nowhere to be seen. I learned from the Tower that the Vex in that town had been destroyed about a month after by Rasputin, the AI Warmind. He launched an attack, eliminating any chance for a Vex foothold on Earth. The Warminds were more active then.

After we escaped, it turned into a 3 year journey searching for civilization. Every place we reached was empty. We lived outside of Manhattan and we walked west. Cities, the whole country, was just gone. We knew the MDZ was gone, but we didn’t realize it was this bad. Eventually we reached the city and you know that part of the story.

That being said, a lot of lives were lost because of Osiris’ carelessness and lack of restraint. He was dead to me and he always will be and no action he can do will change that.

[alterautomata-blog]

Destiny Fanfic: Lost Days

Author’s Notes: Destiny fanfiction set months before House of Wolves, featuring my Hunter OC, Ashe Winters, an awoken who begins to question the Speaker, the Traveler and the shadow it casts, even her own paracausal existence.

AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10342830/chapters/22857783

Tags: Angst, Existential crisis, Snark, 

Chapter 1: Fire and Ashe

“I don’t know why you insist on doing this every morning,” a Ghost whined, it’s internal circuitry grinding with irritation.

“You know for an AI, you complain a lot.”

Year 2631, 0600 hours, Tuesday morning.

Earth’s orbit.

Space’s grasp was vast and everlasting, and its view had remained even greater than that calibre for the last eternity. It was an interstellar spectacle of distant worlds, and star stuff, which, even when broomed through thoroughly, not even the most seasoned of space explorers would find every nook and cranny of this all-omnipotent being.

Just off the coast of the distant Planet Earth, not so far from it’s atmosphere was a Guardian class jumpship, floating off in the embrace of space. Inside it was what one would expect; a Guardian herself—Hunter class—and the Ghost who oft criticised her of the many unhealthy decisions she dared to make.

Ashe Winters was very enthusiastic about the sunrise, and viewing it from space at that.

Her Ghost, who she had cleverly given the name of Blink—an odd name from a being from some Golden Age program used for children’s amusement—was barely accepting of her latest escapades, mostly the ones that would land the both of them in trouble with the Vanguard. He would often advise against Ashe’s rash decisions, but alas, she never even considered the consequences. But that’s how she was on leisure time. On missions, the Hunter was often compared to Cayde-6 when it came to getting things done.

She didn’t care how she did it—as long as it was set and over with.

If anything, Blink was the voice of reason in these types of situations, that Ashe had no intention to listen to anytime soon.

The Ghost floated near Ashe’s head, whirring it’s gears in irritation and worry while the Hunter had a big smirk plastered on her face.

“So tell me; are you insane? Because Zavala tells you, personally, time and time again to not linger outside of Earth’s orbit—due to the fact that Fallen ships could easily pick you up on their scans, and are oh-so eager for Guardian blood to be spilled.”

“So?”

“And yet, you continue to do it!”

“Uhuh.”

“Why!?”

Ashe turned her gaze out of her ship’s port window, a resolute curve of her lips still plastered on her face. She appeared to be amazed, enveloped in the type of awe that a child would have. She directed her Ghost’s attention out to space with a point. “Because on Earth, you’ll never get to see something like this.”

The black and white patterned shell turned, and his single eye blinked for a moment.

Through the ship’s window, the sun glared, reflecting from the very surface of the large blue planet before the two. It’s golden view were like brightly shining arms made of pure light, wrapping around the sky. This sight enthralled Ashe; brought out expressions from her no other Guardian or Ghost would ever hope to coax. It was a simple thing to be so fixated with, yes. But in times like these, the small things were all a person—even a Guardian—could ever want before everything turned to shit. It wasn’t out of the ordinary at all, especially for a Hunter, to have an interest for something of nature and science. Warlocks were often the same, even more with science, however, and Titans with their trinkets—items from a distant time before The Collapse that managed to maintain their shape and form.

In particular, Ashe was interested in the sun, and strangely enough, she was hardly a Gunslinger.

The Awoken woman sighed with elation in her voice before her hands reached over, and touched the controls of her ship.

“Sit tight. We’re going back.”

The Traveler.

It was practically within the grasps of those who beheld it’s somber-like presence. While yes, life no longer stirred within it, it remained a moniker of hope to those who beheld its glory—a metaphorical and funnily enough, literal sigil of Light, which spurred on the desires for peace—to drive Guardians and humans alike to fight for the day where Darkness would no longer lust for their lives.

At least, that was what everyone’s beloved Speaker would tell them. And repeat like a mantra.

In truth, the Traveler was only a facade. A lie, and the Speaker along with it. It was only a gargantuan floating ball that smelled faintly of vanilla; casting an overbearing shadow on top of The Last City.

While, yes, it did well to stave off the Dark; as ever-growing and infinite as a plague. With as much as the concept of Light was deconstructed, only to be revealed as something so morbid, Guardians—those who are lost to natural causes, who defy death constantly—it was a necessary evil. Knowing so, must such a wonderful falsehood be broken?

Would it even be insulted to be called something wonderful?

These were Ashe’s constant thoughts, day and night. In space. On patrols. Even on supply runs, such things would not leave the Hunter’s mind, that she figured someone such as her might as well had been a Warlock. Funnily enough, not even their kind questioned this very way of life. Instead, they had their heads buried in a book, wondering why the Moon wasn’t made of cheese, or something along the lines.

Was everyone content with this life, though? Constantly fighting, while knowing that even something as majestic as the Traveler casted darkness as well? Maybe they didn’t know, and continued to go about life as normal.

Was that the life Ashe wanted to lead? Would she had rather been as ignorant as any other Guardian?

A neon glare turned over towards the Hunter, from an Exo from the same class. Rather it was her mentor, a member of the Vanguard, Cayde.

She pretended to not notice him at first, and Cayde pretended to actually be angry. He knew Ashe’s schtick better than anyone else did, that and he had to put on a good show for the other two Vanguard members.

“Look, I’m not saying that you can’t handle yourself,” he began, his geared jaw illuminating for every time a syllable sounded. “But we made it clear that Guardians aren’t allowed to linger in orbit like that. We wouldn’t want you getting fried by the Fallen or, whatever is out there. You’re too valuable an ally to lose, Ashe.”

There was an inkling of a moment where her eyes turned to the Exo, then passed over to Zavala who wore that eternally stern expression, and finally to Ikora, forever to be carelessly buried in her collection of pre-collapse books and ancient texts of dragons and whatnot.

“Is that why you’re sticking me with a permanent fireteam? For the fifth time?”

“Sixth. Franz was only one man, but we thought he could really…” Cayde’s eyes darted behind him so indecisively as he could feel the tension rise. “Keep you in check. Zavala’s words. Not mine.”

As if on cue, the Titan stepped forward and stood adjacent to Cayde, looking down on the wayward Awoken Hunter who quirked an incredulous brow back at him.

“You are a menace to those around you and yourself, Winters. That Ghost won’t last long with this continued behavior,” the big blue statue according to Cayde bellowed. “Show more pride as a Guardian, and perhaps this would be a permanent fireteam for you. But time and time again, your lack of tact either drives them away or worse, get them—”

“You act as if I want to be on someone’s leash.”

She didn’t realize it before, but the negative effect of her reflexes were showcased right there. Ashe was already standing up, staring down the Commander.

Me and my big mouth, the sensible part of Ashe thought, grimacing.

Zavala wasn’t phased however. That stoney-faced Awoken didn’t even flinch when Ashe engaged in a stand-off with him.

If Cayde had sweat glands, he would’ve been soaked.

And there was Ikora, still immersed in her books, a care spared not.

For a moment there, Ashe thought she was going to find her entire body rocked to it’s core from a Storm Fist—and then the Tower would have a fight on it’s hands—but she knew Zavala better than that. He wasn’t your average, everyday Titan, mindlessly punching things that provoked them.

“Your team will be issued to you tomorrow, Winters. In the meantime, you’re dismissed.”

Fuck you, the irrationally angry side of Ashe wanted to say. She really did. With a click of her tongue, she turned on a heel and stormed off.

As the Hunter reached the hall, her Ghost materialized next to her, following the hastened pace she walked, giving her a look of counsel that said a lot without words.

Don’t give me that, Ashe looked back.

“That could have went better. You know Commander Zavala is like a rock on this sort of thing.”

“I know he has more authority than he does brains, and throws that around mindlessly.” She continued walking, towards the Tower’s hanger where she passed by overhung logos, riddled through the place, used as daily reminders to what she was brought back from the dead to become.

“You and I both know that isn’t true—and where are you going?”

“The Cosmodrome.” She let only a second pass before speaking again, not enough time for Blink to ask why she was going to such a place. “I need to blow off some steam.”

“Oh, nothing says blowing off steam like firing lead into the filters of a Fallen Captain’s Ether mask.”

“The ship, Blink.” Ashe’s voice was laced with impatience. She walked past the floating AI, and it in turn whirred with exasperation at her soiled countenance.

With a sigh, the Ghost soon phased out of existence. Ashe did as well once her all-around grey jumpship revealed itself in the hanger, rising up along the platform as if being offered to her by a mechanical host within the Tower. With a pull of the throttle and a few flips of a couple switches, the engines roared to life and the ship took off, the Cosmodrome of Old Russia in mind as it’s destination.

[sapphic-scylla]

Cassus, Chap. 2-The Vault of Glass

I grew very quickly in training. My work as a soldier, bounty hunter, and assassin only improved my class skills and refined my ability. All of these were a mix of things taught by my extensive “family”, past and present. I learned everything from close-quarters from my great grandfather to sniping from my great uncle, Garrus, to technical tinkering from my great grandma and mother to silent quick kills and knives from Aunt Kasumi. It was ingrained into my brain at a young age and only because I was willing to learn and practice. I also took lessons from Cayde, as he passed through our little camp in Manhattan back then. He filled in the gaps.

Eventually, I had mastered these new powers as well. The Traveler’s gifts were like being in a new relationship. You have no idea how it works, but somehow, You already know what you’re supposed to do. Eventually, I became so proficient that Cayde offered me the most challenging of the subclasses: the Nightstalker.

I had always dabbled in bows, in fact, I thrived in using them, but this was so much different. I had always respected the use of a bow and arrow. It had an elegance that my gunslinger heart had always been jealous of. It required a calm I struggled to possess. It took me almost two years to master and it drove me to the point that I wondered if I’d ever get it. Little did I know, it would become my greatest advantage and my greatest strength.

I spent days sitting in Bannerfall practicing, trying to hold the tether in form for more than a second but it proved almost impossible. As I sat on the edge of the tower, exhausted from use of light, a booming voice nearly knocked me off. “GUARDIAN!!”

“Shaxx, what did I say about yelling when I’m sitting. You are gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Sorry, but I haven’t seen you in the crucible lately. You love the Crucible. Cayde said you were here.”

“Yeah. This Void thing, Shaxx. I’ve been trying and I don’t know how Titans and Warlocks wield it so easily.”

“Ahhhhh. It’s why Cayde is the only Nightstalker this tower has at the moment. He was waiting for a student.”

“But how? It takes far more skill than he thinks I possess. Maybe it’s just not me.”

“Guardian, as your combat mentor, we’ve talked a lot about your fire for battle, but that is not the point of using Void. Both warlocks and titans...have you seen them use it? It’s not about unleashing something, it’s about focus. Reigning in the darkness for your control.”

“But I am ADHD? How do I use focus when I can’t even finish a game of poker?”

“Guardian, a bow is much like the hand cannon you carry. You can’t just fire and hit something. You of all people know that.” he said as he walked away. “The Crucible beckons, guardian! Will you answer?!?”

Shaxx had taken a special interest in me. As I had walked into the Tower on the second day, still unsure of all of this, I found myself drawn to wielding this new power, but I wanted to protect people. Most people had always wanted to pit their light against each other, but I wanted to be a force of good to counter my more aggressive side. As I asked to join the Crucible, somehow, Shaxx had seen this and immediately took me under his wing and taught me himself. It was never easy. God, that Titan didn’t give a single inch, but I’m glad he didn’t.

As I pondered his words, I formed the bow in my hand. I felt all of tension and mistrust fade into a bow. This wasn’t darkness though. Void had a perfect combo of light and dark, each vying for domination, but blending perfectly. My heartbeat slows and darkness swirls to the arrow tip as I pull back. I fire the arrow and the tethers spring to the targets pulling them to me as I bullseye each and every one.

“That was so much cooler than I could have ever done it. And that’s saying something because I am awesome.” Said the snarky voice of my mentor.

“Cassus, my favorite Guardian, you have far exceeded my expectations and if I could leave the tower, I would want you on my fireteam.”

“Technically, you’re always welcome, Cayde.”

“Yeah but apparently I am a pivotal part of the Vanguard.” He mocked the Tower Commander in his not-as-deep voice.

“And Zavala said this, did he?”

“Maybe. I can never remember. Come to think of it, it might have been Ikora, actually, and with a lot more crying and much more undaunted respect.”

“Hilarious.”

“Keep at it, Cassus. You’re gonna do great things.” He said as he walked away.

“Cayde?”

“Yes, Cass?”

“Thank you for teaching me how to wield a bow.”

“Cass, I may not remember much about my past life, but I will always remember those days. That’s why I trust you completely with this bow. You’re the one I want at my back in a fight. You have more promise than anyone and you’re damn good in a firefight like when we faced the Cavanaugh uprising.”

I laughed. “That was a fun fight. Still have never seen someone put three people down as quickly as you.”

“What about you, my man? 28 headshots in a row! Not even I in all my glory have that good a precision.”

“Love you, dude.” I said

“You’re the best, dude. Always remember that. Or I’ll have to kill ya.” He said as he walked out.

Cayde knew better than most the shit I’d been through. Cayde had been my father figure for who knows how long. As a child, I’d been an active learner. I had to be prepared for anyone and anything. I studied fighting as I had a penchant for violence. By the age of ten, I had learned swords, pistols, sidearms, bow staffs, short knives and throwing them, archery, and especially hand-to-hand. All of those were refined and personalized by Cayde. He was known as the Ace of Hearts then, but he has been rebooted a few times since. He was a gunslinger by trade and had lived in our town and used it as a place to hang his hood before he left for god knows where. When I turned twelve, he said “Cass, no one is going to protect you or anyone else but themselves. Be someone people can count on.”

Those words rang true to this day. At 15, the town began tearing itself apart. People were stealing from people, murders were sky high. When the end of the world came about, people didn’t take it well, so me and my best friend Dredgen became the law. We kept people sane through fear. We made the hard decisions. We became vigilantes. Hellfire and Thorn. My parents never found out. Eventually, when we had to defend the wall, I juggled the two duties. No one ever figured it out except Cayde. Before he left, he said “That’s what I’m talking about. You are going to be great. People may think of you as a criminal or a bounty hunter, but Hellfire is who you are and those instincts will be crucial one day.”

It’s been years since I thought about those days, but two things were true. He was right and that it was time to return to the crucible.

I could never be beat in close-quarters combat. Crucible showed that as the Last Word I had acquired and I dominated in stealth and melee. That's not to say I was the best, but as it always had been, people fell like flies within five feet and people learned distance was best. Sniper rifles helped me close the gap and fusion rifles helped me cover the in between.

I became adept in all of the weapon classes and as I moved higher, Shaxx applauded my efforts. Zavala eventually called me to Vanguard headquarters to my surprise.

It was a cool October day. Years didn’t matter at that point and, honestly, I just couldn’t remember. I was just getting back from a patrol and I was about ready to keel over.

“You really shouldn’t be pushing yourself this hard, ya crazy.” Sapph said. Snarky ghost.

“I know, but I hate being cooped up in the Tower all day. It’s bad enough I’m relegated to known areas only, working with this piece of shit is the worst.” I said, holding up this old hand cannon called Ill Will. Clunkiest damn thing I’d ever used and it handled like a brick of solid iron ore counted as a pistol.

The Tower armed us with Vanguard issue gear until we prove ourselves worthy of stronger gear for the field. Materials were hard to come by.

“Oh come on, you only missed that dreg by a couple hundred meters.” Sapph laughed.

“The gun jammed! I can’t work with this junk! I need me a real weapon!” I grumbled as I dismantled it.

“Cassus Shepard, please report to the Vanguard immediately.” Zavala said over the intercom.

“You’re in for it now, you engram-stealing, sweet-talking ass BITCH!” Sapph laughed and giggled as I shuffled my way into the Tower.

“It was ONE TIME!!! Ok, two...maybe three tops, but that fucking cryptarch talks like a goddamn New Monarchy rep. I could spill a boiling hot coffee on the guy and he’d have an aneurysm because the colors didn’t match.” I ranted.

I walked in to see the Vanguard all standing together.

“Cassus, we’ve brought you here with an offer of assistance.” Ikora said, emotionlessly as always.

“We’ve opened some old files and recorded some happenings on Venus and we’ve discovered the Vex are up to something. We’ve sent fireteams, but none have reported back. The last time this happened, the Tower commander was exiled for overextension of authority and bad judgement, so we are taking every precaution in this decision.” Cayde-6 said in all seriousness, which was totally a first from him.

“What do you need from me?” I said, interested.

“Are you familiar with leadership, Cassus?” Zavala said, authority practically oozing from his armor.

“I’m solid enough for whatever you need from me, sir.” I said, even though I loathed running with big groups.

“Then it’s settled. A week from now, you will be heading a team into the Vault of Glass. The main objective is intel and possible elimination. Infiltrate the Vault and assassinate any and all high value targets. Take this relic in with you. I hope it serves you well.” Zavala said, passing me some kind of Vex shield…? I don’t know what it was. Don’t ask.

“I won’t let you down, sir.” I said, nervously.

“Go talk to Banshee when you have a sec. He’ll have some new gear for you. And study up as much as you can. We have little but hopefully it helps.” Ikora said.

“And of course, good luck. We don’t know all of what’s down there, but we trust you’ll handle it. Light go with you, Cass.” Cayde said. And with those words, I was dismissed.

I'd studied late into the night to learn all there was to know about the vault. It wasn't much. Apparently, Kabr’s fireteam was obliterated by the oracles and, while Pahanin was the only one that had survived and he forgot the trauma and practically became a tortured soul. Kabr, the Legionless, he became known as, sacrificed his life and his free will from the Vex collective to ensure that someone could lockdown the rituals they were performing. Praedyth had gotten trapped in the everlasting loop of time and was doomed to an eternal “fall” as all time exists all at once. Praedyth and I were never close, but he was the smarter of us three. As for Pahanin, I had come across info that Dredgen had killed him. I did not stand to believe it. Pahanin and I fell from the same tree, but he was a million times more cautious. Dredge knew that. And yet still…

Something must have happened and eventually, I would find out that story. They say Shin Malphur killed Dredge in a shoot out, but Dredge was the fastest draw I had ever seen outside of Cayde himself. Something felt off about the whole thing and I didn’t know what.

This info even spoke of Osiris and his time as Warlock Vanguard and that bastard could rot in hell for all I cared. His obsessive personality eventually got him exiled from the tower. A terrible fate, but that’s not to say he didn’t deserve it. The Vex and his interest in them had become too much before. I would be a fool to say he had changed now.

Before we left, I stopped by the gunsmith to arm myself and do a final check through. Banshee pulled me aside and said that as I had mastered the three subclasses and partly because I was his favorite and loved spending time weapon crafting, he presented me with the pride and joy of his creations.

It balanced perfectly in my hands as a hand cannon and the mechanics moved smoothly and flawlessly. I was a risk taker and being as much of a gambler of life as I was at cards, the name Ace of Spades suited it and me well.

As I tested the firing on the range, the first shot I took, a headshot, led to the combustion and incineration of the target.

“What the FUCK?!” I said, jumping as far back as a thrall could lunge forward.

“The light a guardian has not only extends to physical ability. Weapons forged in light gave unique abilities to the user depending on their style.” Banshee said in his usual dead pan.

“Mine is explosions?! Why the hell did I...ok I guess that does make sense…” I said, realizing mid thought.

“Your gun is rewarding precision and accuracy. It must sense you have a steady hand.” Banshee offered.

Now that you mention it…

“Like you wouldn’t believe, actually.”

This weapon and I would become very good friends.

I slid it into my holster. The next four days were spent studying and preparing. Days and nights flowed together and eventually the day came.

Two titans, two warlocks, and a hunter. All geared up and ready to go at the crack of dawn.

“Orders, sir.” One Titan saluted. It made me cringe oh so badly.

“First up, no formalities. No “sirs”, ok? Good. Guys, our job is intel and elimination. Watch each other’s backs, trust each other. Our ghosts will have limited power due to Vex countermeasures, so remember to keep your heads on a swivel. I want to see each of you fine ladies and gentlemen alive at the end of this, ok?”

“Ok!” They all said, eager and ready. God, I loved these people.

“Then what the hell are we waiting for, my friends?” I grinned. “Everyone, to your ships! Let’s get this show on the road!”

As me and my fireteam pushed our way to the Vault, I felt a heavy sense of foreboding. Venus was lost to the Vex years ago and the fact that the place was still this much of a mystery scared the hell out of me.

As we opened the Vault, the Vex obviously tried to stop us, but with little success.

“That seemed a little too easy…” Sapph muttered.

“Glad I’m not the only one thinking that…” I agreed.

The huge door shifted open and we moved inside, quietly as a group as the lights slowly flickered into an eerie darkness.

As we proceeded further, the ring of pieces of architecture and potentially creatures fading in and out of time chilled me to the bone or what little I had left. We had heard of a vengeful Hydra aptly named the Templar, but when and where it would show up, we hadn't the foggiest idea.

We come to a big platform only to discover that we were blocked by a heavily encrypted door. The Vault of Glass was not one vault but several.

“Maybe they are taking a coffee break…?” The other hunter offered.

“I hope so. Last thing I want is Minotaurs grumbling at us because Starbucks wasn’t open yet.” I remarked jokingly.

Without warning, a hellish mechanical screech, the likes of which I have never heard before nor since, shook the earth.

“What the actual hell!?!” I yelled, more annoyed than anything.

After all of us recovered from being deaf, we looked up to see the most decorated yet the most menacing Hydra I’d ever seen floating near the next Vault door. With what looked like a vengeful stare, his blocky shield turned green and started fluctuating to reveal conflicted and dozens of drones started rushing to sacrifice themselves for the cause. We immediately began shooting them to stop their advance.

All of us knew what this was. The Templar War Machine and his demented trials were upon us.

We were told of the trials of the Templar: the confluxes and the oracles, but we were treading new ground beyond that. As we destroyed the final oracle, with a demon cry, the Templar unleashed its weaponry as it charged at us.

Without warning, as I dived aside, a relic fell from who knows where to where I was in cover. I picked it up and without really knowing how to use it but somehow embracing its strange familiarity, I activated it’s defense protocol, defending my team before wielding it as a weapon against the shields as the rest of my team hunkered down and loaded every clip we had into that thing. After what seemed like forever, the Templar crippled and exploded opening the way forward. From now on, we were in unseen territory.