Looking out from Mercury's endless metropolis of Vex constructs and blindingly bright Horizon was what the Tower of Earth would call the
Lighthouse of Caloris Spires. It was here that a Warlock had brought His followers, where they would openly explore questions and philosophy
that would be considered rather controversial in the place much like this but far more habitable.
While Disciples scattered outwards across the Solar system to spread their new ideas and wisdom, the centerpiece of their cult remained on
Mercury. And it was here that the master had made a choice.
There was only one sound that gave company to the stone halls of the Lighthouse. A gentle hum that echoed throughout the building once in a
while. In these times the gates to the throne room would open. Or at least what the cult referred to as the "chamber of light". Within this massive
circular room stood a throne. And upon this throne sat the brittle husk and armour of the master himself. When the gates would open, Disciples
would take this opportunity to worship or make requests of the master.
But the mummified figure who forever sat frozen in time upon the stone throne was mere decoration now. It was the pit behind the throne in
which the true power sat. It was the beacon of light that would fire out into the sky whenever he awoke and with it a humming noise that
drowned the lighthouse. This here, the spirit of the master who had become something more. The warlock who had become the very light of the
Lighthouse. Light itself. It was here that he awoke to a dread. And when there is something lurking about in which a god dreads, there is reason to
join the god in dread.
Another rumble awoke him. It was getting stronger down there. He believed that his ascendance into the Vex network would be strong enough to
keep the beasts at bay. But the more undisturbed they were far below the surface, the more time to build strength they had.
By entering the network and abandoning his mortal body in the process, he had become the axis mind of the vex of Mercury. Tralion, the former
Axis mind had been forced out of the network and shut down in the process somewhere in the ruins. But the creatures he kept locked beneath
had built up enough strength to strip him from his control over the vex. Tralion had become active once more and reclaimed its position as Axis
mind. However it was still not powerful enough to overthrow the master and his undying light.
The lighthouse was all that was left for the master to control and all within it. His thoughts swam in the oceanic beacon of light that cut the sky.
He had many disciples and sent forth many of them down into the catacombs to slay the beasts once and for all. But each had never returned.
Failed. And he understood why. As loyal and powerful as his disciples were, they were all of the same thought. If only they could transcend like he
had done. The vex were such creative thinking minds. He had left the tower for a reason. And it seems like his own proud warriors who had
proven themselves in endless battles within crucible, patrolling, and so many other trials seemed indifferent. All the same mentality.
So it is here that the master made a decision. From the well in which the light rocketed out from, four little machines gently hovered out like
newborn fireflies. Each a meek white hull with a little yellow eye. And with directives, each Ghost blasted into random directions to seek their
target no matter how far. The beacon vanished and the stone gates to the Hall of Light closed once again.