They flew in from the coast, three small orbs of light floating a dozen feet from the water of the Atlantic Ocean. At closer inspection, one could see objects in the center of the orbs that produced the bright glow. When they reached the sandy beaches, they stopped, seeming to inspect the area around them, the light dimming as they searched for something. The sentient machine-like objects seemed to glance at each other, as if making a silent promise before they parted ways in separate directions.

He woke up from what seemed like a long night sleep. Struggling to open his eyes, the man shielded his face from the beating sun overhead. At first, he felt cold, coughing up dust as if he didn't use his lungs in ages. After a moment, the sun warmed his body and he started to sit up. This simple motion alone was a struggle. His bones felt stiff and his muscles tight. He propped himself up on his elbows and when his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he took a look around.

He sat on a beach, but nothing around him was pleasant. Ruined and rusty boats were washed up and rusting on the shore. Scrap metal and trash was littered everywhere. And then there were the bodies. Although they weren't even bodies anymore. Dotted sparsely over the sand were the bones of people that had once….what? He couldn't remember.

Nothing made sense. Why was he here? What had happened around him? Who was he? He couldn't even remember his name. His eyes were darting everywhere, trying to remember something, anything. His breathing rate increased as he ached to stand up quickly and just get out of there.

"Whoa whoa, hold on there, Guardian!" A voice called out. It was like a mechanical voice, with beeps and chirps sounding as it spoke. Then the source of the voice flew in front of the man as if stopping him from a retreat. "You need to calm down for a moment or else you'll die again."

"Again?" The man paused before the simple question. "What do you mean again?" He asked the mechanical object. It was a small thing. A spherical object with eight pyramid like protrusions in symmetrical areas and a central eye which flashed brighter as it spoke.

"Um...this may be a bit of a shock. You've been dead for a very long time," The object said slowly, trying not to startle the man. "I've kind of...resurrected you. Brought you back to life."

The man took a moment to ingest this information….and then fell back to the ground in a sitting position. "I've been dead?" He asked, staring at the ground. The floating object said nothing, letting the man go through his thoughts. After a few moments, he looked back to it. "How long? What have I missed? And what are you?"

"Me? I'm a Ghost." The object beeped as it spoke. "Rather, I'm your Ghost. And you are my Guardian."

"Ghost? Guardian? What are you talking about?"

"I can fill you in on most of it when we get to the Tower. What's important right now is that you are a Guardian. A kind of warrior that fights for what's left of humanity. You keep the rest of humanity alive and I keep you alive."

"A...warrior….Guardian…" The man contemplated the title and looked at his hands. He was wearing gloves. Taking a quick glance at the rest of his clothes, he was also wearing a short, dark blue robe that extended past his waist with dark pants and boots. If he was previously just a pile of bones like the ones scattered around the beach, the clothes must have been the Ghost's doing.

A loud roar sounded from down the coast. The man and the Ghost looked towards the noise. "This place isn't safe," The Ghost said. "We need to get you out of here and get you a weapon. And since I haven't found a sharp, pointy object so far, I suggest we start running." The Ghost floated closer to the man. "Here, take this. It goes well with your outfit. And it could also keep the sand out of your eyes." Materializing seemingly out of nowhere, a helmet was dropped in the man's lap. He picked it up and inspected it, a full closed face helmet with diagonal slits with a glass like material for vision. He wondered how he'd be able to see through this thing.

The man put the helmet on and looked to the Ghost, nodding before rising once again to his feet and moving in the opposite direction to the noise. Surprisingly, it was as if there were no gaps in the visor. He could see perfectly.

"I have friends seeking out potential Guardians just like you," The Ghost said as he floated with the man. "We agreed to meet just up the coast. We won't be alone out here."

"There are more of you?" The man asked. "And there are more of me?" The Ghost didn't answer, letting the man concentrate on running as the Ghost tried to remember where the meeting point was. In fact, the Ghost wasn't in sight at all. The man looked around as he was running, finding himself alone.

"Don't worry, I'm still with you," The Ghost's voice beeped and chirped as he spoke in the man's mind. With so many strange things going on, he decided to ask about this little ability later.

Gun fire ahead. The man ducked low as he heard it in the distance, still moving forward at a slower pace.

"Keep going!" The Ghost said. "One of my friends must have found their Guardian as well." As they ran closer, the man saw a figure kneeling down and shooting in the direction away from him. He was wearing what looked like full space age armor, complete with a helmet that seemed more protective than his own. The man didn't know what kind of material the plating was made from, but layers of it were covering the vital organs of the person wearing it. He looked at his own clothes and felt under dressed for this stressful situation.

"You couldn't give me something like what he's wearing?" The man asked his Ghost. He looked around and knelt low behind some debris laying next to the warrior, hearing bullets whiz past him. Except they weren't bullets. They seemed like some kind of projectiles with bluish energy trailing from them.

The man risked a look at whoever was shooting back and his jaw dropped. Alien was the only word he could describe the creatures. They all stood on two legs, but some had four arms while others had two. The ones with four arms seemed to be more important, wearing armor, while the two armed dregs wore cloth.

"The Fallen," The man's Ghost said, now hovering next to him. "Scavengers from another world." The Ghost seemed to squint, trying to get a closer look. "Judging from the symbol on their clothing, they're most likely from the House of Ancients."

"Here! I found a pulse rifle as well!" Another Ghost floated quickly past the man and a rifle materialized on the ground. Without thinking, the man picked it up and aimed it at the alien creatures across the beach. He aimed at one of the four armed creatures and pulled the trigger, a short burst of bullets shooting out and striking it in the chest. Whatever armor it was wearing seemed to be durable because the creature only seemed stunned. It took another burst to completely put it down.

"Nice shot!" a woman shouted. "You may be a Guardian after all!" The man looked over and found it was the other person in the armor whom he thought was a man earlier. With armor like that, it was difficult to find the obvious features. He pushed the thought aside as bolts of energy whizzed past his head. Panic set in and he ducked back down behind the debris. He figured concentrating on survival was more important for the time being.

With a clatter of rustling armor, the woman did the same. "What a way to come back, huh?" She asked the question that the man was unable to answer. "I'm Stelia by the way."

The man raised an eyebrow behind his helmeted face. "Really?! Introductions while we're being shot at?!"

"You can call him Onikor," The man's Ghost said for him.

"Wait, why are you picking my name?!" The newly named Onikor asked.

"How about just Oni then?" Stelia asked. "Easier to call you while under fire."

"We're under fire right now! How about we deal with that!" Oni summoned his courage and sat up again, firing back at the Fallen who were starting to advance rapidly. The dregs were first in the line of Fallen moving closer to their position. Luckily, the Guardians had adequate cover behind the sand dune and debris. Oni took pot shots at the closest dregs, getting a scatter of shots to each target's body and a few lucky head shots. With each lucky shot, the dregs head was blown off with a wisp of silverish mist, as if a spirit was escaping their body.

Behind all the Fallen, Oni could see one larger one. Like the other officer-like creatures, this one had four arms, but easily towered over the rest by a couple heads length. It had an obvious glowing shield around it, probably made of the same energy that their bullets were made with. This creature was obviously the Captain of the group.

Taking cover once again, Oni looked over to Stelia, who was also dispatching each of her targets with more efficiency than he could imagine to accomplish. She was overexposed though and each shot against her was hitting its mark. Or at least they seemed to be. For a moment, they seemed to be hitting an invisible barrier just over her armor, splattering against it like bugs against the windshield of a vehicle. The shield only lasted a few moments though because one of the enemy projectiles seemed to shatter it. Taking notice of this, she ducked behind the debris.

"Shield's down! Cover me for a moment, Oni," Stelia looked to him. Onikor lifted his head and weapon back up, firing down the length of the beach. Taking a few glances to Stelia, he saw what looked like a ball of energy appear in her left hand. With a quick look, she tossed it into a group of Fallen. The ball erupted in a wave of electricity, shocking the enemies within its range. Most fell on the spot while the rest were stunned. At least three enemies dead with that one grenade-like object.

Oni's Ghost floated beside him. "You have an ability like that too," He said. "Just concentrate on doing the same thing if you can."

Oni looked to the small machine, wondering how he could concentrate to make something out of nothing in the middle of a fire fight. Sighing, he put down the pulse rifle when he saw Stelia take her offensive position again. He held his right hand back and closed his eyes, focusing on whatever power now resides in him. It was there. He felt something dark surge through him. His eyes opened and he had the urge to leap in the air and throw whatever energy he was harnessing. He finished the follow through and fell to the ground on his side. When he looked up, he saw an enormous ball of dark, purple energy flying through the sky to the Fallen. They had just enough time to scream before the energy ball hit the ground and vaporized the rest of them.

Stelia stood up and held her rifle to her side and both Ghosts seemed like they were staring wide eyed at the destruction.

"That was a Nova Bomb, not a grenade!" Oni's Ghost yelled. "You're supposed to work your way up, not start there!"

"Is that a bad thing?" Oni asked, looking at his hand that ended the Fallen.

"Well….no, I guess not," The Ghost replied, looking down in thought.

"Just make sure you point that thing in the right direction," Stelia said. "I don't want a-" She stopped mid sentence and brought up her rifle, aiming it behind Oni. He turned around quickly and saw the Captain from before bearing down on him with two large swords, pulsing with electricity.

Stelia immediately started firing at the Captain, but her rounds were bouncing off its shield. The Captain swiped one of the swords at Oni with a roar. The blade hit his own shield but it was immediately shattered as he was knocked back and hit the floor. His pulse rifle was too far away to grab and he couldn't find it in him to summon another Nova Bomb.

Seeing Oni was down for the count, the Captain started advancing toward Stelia. He raised the other sword to bring it down on her, but his shield shattered. He paused and looked around. A gunshot sounded around them and the Captain's head erupted in a volcano of silver mist.

Oni scrambled up as quick as he could, kicking up sand all over the place. He made a quick run and grabbed his pulse rifle. Both he and Stelia were looking around for whoever killed the Captain.

"Over there," Stelia's Ghost said, looking inland. The rest turned and saw a man standing up from a prone position, holding a long rifle in his hands.