On the first day of Destiny 2,
My true love gave to me;
A brand-spanking new Iron Lord!
There were good days. There were decent days. There were Thursdays(which never made any sense). And then, there were bad days.
Shiro-4 had had what one might call 'a bad day'.
Now, he never really thought he fell under the term 'assassin', but then again, he'd never shied away when someone used it to describe him, either. The number of Fallen leadership he'd put in the ground, some without ever being spotted, shot at, or even suspected, might certainly testify to that, in combination with some of the sneaky methods he'd been known to use.
He'd once turned an entire House against each other by shooting an Archon with a wire rifle, and planting evidence of a coup... resulting in an actual coup. He swore, he'd once caught a glimpse of the Kell of Kings after following a Baron for three weeks. He'd made weapons out of scrap, forged devastating guns out of spare parts he found on his enemies, survived more than even Cayde-6 knew... for there would always be, as a Hunter, stories you never told, never would tell, never could tell, not even in your final moments.
This, he reflected, might be one of those stories.
He tried to move, but his body wouldn't obey. Things had been going smoothly; go in, kill the Splicer priest, get it done. He hadn't counted on the Hive being here... or that they might decide to try and bring the entire tanker down on top of him. He didn't think he would fall where Lord Colovance fell. He supposed the Hive had spent months digging tunnels under the Plaguelands, getting ready for this, getting ready to bring it all down... he wondered if he was just an unlucky bit of collateral damage, or if they'd known he was key in the Guardian operations going on here. He wondered who else might be trapped like he was.
"Shiro, do you copy?" Saladin's voice demanded from the comms. "Repeat, do you copy? Shiro?"
He tried to answer, but something moved in his throat, a piece of metal perhaps, when he tried to speak, and he wound up gagging and coughing instead. Saladin doesn't deserve this... He had to get out of this mess, if not for his own sake, then his friends'. Saladin... had a bad tendency to push people away. Shaxx, Zavala, Tyra, all up until a very sickeningly stubborn Exo who still couldn't tell a hand cannon from a sidearm decided 'you know what? I'm going to FORCE you to be my friend'.
And the Titan hadn't been able to get out of it. Shiro was still slightly smug about that. For years now, he was certain he was the only person close to the Iron Lord, though that had started to change recently, with the threat of SIVA being neutralized day-by-day, and the new Iron Lord that needed training. Shiro didn't mind; it was good for Saladin. But a death would probably send all that progress down the drain.
"Shiro, confirm position, we're coming in for pickup." Saladin asked. Shiro tried again to drag himself away from the rubble, and failed. He dared to look down, at his legs, which he could feel but couldn't move. The entire lower half of his body was barely recognizable, twisted, shredded, crushed metal and armor that that would certainly need replacing.
"Saladin, it's Kara." His Ghost carefully peeked out from within his hood. "He's awake, but barely, I'm sending you our coordinates. The Darkness from the Hive really took it out of us, please hurry!"
He tried to wrap his cloak around himself for extra warmth, but it was shredded, too. It's going to take me forever to find replacement cloth for this pattern... He'd used Baron cloaks to make his own, as they had specific markings that he'd found make for a nice pattern when stitched together in the fashion his cloak was in.
"Just hold on, Shiro!" his Ghost begged him. "Help's on the way, I'll fix you up, soon!"
He managed a nod, before letting his body relax as best he could. Exos weren't affected by the cold, but they could still feel it. And it burned against his face, against his exposed metal flesh and wire. The bit of metal in his throat, caused no doubt by the debris that had crashed into his chest and neck earlier, made it a little more difficult to breath than he would like. But maybe his luck wasn't all out, completely; his chest piece, though smashed in, had held up. If it hadn't, he'd be dead.
Everything was slow, and his vision kept flickering out like a bad vid signal, by the time he heard boots in the snow. It was so hard to stay awake... Exos didn't have blood, but there were fluids, white as the snow beneath him, that were just as vital, and he'd lost a certain amount, unfortunately. His Ghost would be able to fix him up once they got out of the Darkness-laced area... or so he hoped.
He heard metal and stone shift above him.
"I found him!" a body slid in next to him, a hand gripped his shoulder. "He's in bad shape, not sure it's safe to move him..."
Oh, please, he would pay all the glimmer in the world to be moved! He just wanted out of here, so badly, he wanted out of here... he wanted to go home, he wanted to be back at the Peak...
Odd. When had the Peak become 'home'? Hunters had no homes.
"His Ghost can help him when we get back." He thought that voice might belong to Saladin, and maybe the heavy thud of someone else joining them in the cramped rubble, but he couldn't be sure. Everything was slow, muffled. His vision failed as an arm wound it's way under his torso to try and lift him out of the debris, and all other senses soon followed.
Shiro's eyes shot open as the sharp alarm cut into his strange, Exo dreams. It had been almost a week since the Plaguelands collapsed, and he was back to fighting fit. A good thing, too...
Because that alarm meant the Peak was in danger.
He jumped out of bed, his repaired and new armor on within the space of two minutes(thank goodness he wasn't a Titan, or it would've taken longer), grabbed the Trespasser, and ran out into the halls. Nobody was up, or it was a slow night. Guardians rarely spent the night here, anyway.
"Kara, which beacon pinged?" he demanded.
"Main temple, whoever it is, they're inside!" his Ghost told him. He nodded. Whoever it was, was about to meet a nasty surprise. As he came up on the entrance to the Memorial Hall, he slid up along the wall, flicking the safety off on Trespasser, finger near the trigger, ready to pull. Taking one deep breath, he kicked the door open, and rolled into the room, dropping to one knee and immediately scanning the area around him... to find nothing of interest.
Unless he counted the way Lady Kirzara was dangling his alert beacon out in the open from one hand, both her and Saladin looking overtly amused at his display. He clicked the safety back on with a sigh. Of course it was a prank.
"Told you he'd come running!" Kirzara, the first Iron Lord to be named in centuries, teased. She tossed the beacon back to Shiro, and he caught it with all the dexterity his class was gifted with. The Warlock grinned, and Saladin shook his head with a bemused smile.
"Yeah, nice trick. I was just... you know, sleeping. Not too terribly important." Shiro turned the beacon off. Great, now he'd have to set it up again...
"Yes, you can get back to that later, old friend. But there was something I wanted to discuss with you. A conversation, in hindsight, that has been long overdue." Saladin told him. He cast a look at Kirzara, and she walked away at the unspoken request to take her leave. The Titan met his eyes. "It's about your place here, at the Peak."
If he had a gut, it would have twisted. What does he mean? Had he done something wrong? Was it the beacons, were they bothering somebody? Was it because he spent too much time talking with Efrideet when she was around? His room used to be Lord Gheleons(filled with strange prizes that he'd learned to ignore, for he thought Saladin might find it disrespectful if he moved them), did Saladin want him to pick a different one? Was... did the Vanguard want him back? Saladin gave a bark of laughter as he saw all the question flit across Shiro's face.
"Oh, you aren't in trouble." He made his way over, clasping one hand on the Exo's shoulder, leading him towards the twisted tree that grew at the forefront of the Hall. Despite the fact the human was smiling, Shiro still felt nervous. "I just wanted to talk."
"About what?" he holstered the Trespasser. He'd have to get back into the field sometime, find some more Kings Fallen so he could repair his cloak.
"About you." the older Guardian admitted. He let out a small huff of amusement. "You have shadowed me for decades, been a friend at my side... sometimes when I didn't want you to."
"Since when have you known Hunters to do as they're told, right?" Shiro offered with a metal smile. Saladin nodded smiling back, but then frowned, eyes darkening.
"And last week... that was almost over." He shut his eyes lowering his head.
"Don't go getting teary on me; sure it was a close call, but it worked out in the end, didn't it?" the Exo reasoned, placing a hand on the Titan's shoulder. "No more Splicer priest... and apparently, no more Plaguelands to boot, even if it was the Hive pulling the strings."
"I'm old; I worry. And, yes I suppose... but things don't always work out." the Iron Lord's eyes flitted towards the solemn statue of Jolder, as they often did. "It made me realize there is something I should have done a long time ago."
Shiro had to bite back a gasp as he pulled out a long knife out from the folds of his mark, and presented it. It was about the length of Shiro's forearm, a tanto with a blade that captured the firelight with a spiraling damascus pattern, carvings of curling tree branches in the hilt and grip. At the ricasso and along the heel, like with the sword Kirzara wielded, was the insignia of the Iron Lords.
"I know swords have never been your strong suit." Saladin gave him a wry smile, holding the knife out. Shiro, in a slight daze, took it up by the hilt, and twirled it in his grip. It was light, but he could feel the strength behind the blade as well. It's balance was superb; truly made by a master of the trade. He looked up at Saladin in shock as the moment truly hit him.
"Don't tell me you're making me a... holy Traveler's underpants, you are..." he breathed. The Titan laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.
"You have worked rigorously, and sometimes without question. You have done as much, maybe more, to neutralize SIVA than even I was able to accomplish, Shiro." he told him, looking him dead in the eyes. "If there is any Hunter more worthy of the title 'Iron Lord', I have not met them."
Shiro took a few breaths trying to take it in. Finally, he managed to ask, just one question. "So... does that mean I can move Lord Gheleon's butt-ugly, knife-covered Kell head out of my room?"
When one heard the booming laughter of what was previously the last Iron Lord echoing through the halls of the Iron Temple, it was a sure sign that things were looking up to be a good day.
And here we go! We're off, off into one final adventure with our beloved D1 characters! At least... in the cases of the ones who don't make it, at least. Some of you may remember last year, when I did this same thing before Rise of iron dropped. People really liked that, so I'm going to do it again for Destiny 2. If you haven't read 'Twelve Days of RoI', I seriously recommend doing so, because I might continue some stuff from that in this.
That, and... wow, only TWELVE days? This fic kind of puts things into perspective, doesn't it?
If you really start to think hard about it, Shiro does actually deserve to become an Iron Lord. We know he and Saladin knew each other before RoI, and if you notice, he never asks questions about SIVA during the first few missions... implying that he already knows about it. That in and of itself speaks to how much Saladin must trust him, combined with the fact he brought him in on the SIVA Crisis. Also, I think we deserve to have a legitimate reason as to why an area covered head to toe in SIVA is no longer of interest to us, not just'it's a new game', so I took a bit out of my sweet time... to break the Plaguelands. It also made for a nice opening.
Like with Twelve Days of RoI, I'll be posting a final chapter the day Destiny 2 drops, those of you who are doing the math; thats how I do these, twelve one-a-day one-shots, and one follow-up after the release... usually not on time. But this time, I'm going to try to stick to the scedual; for both RoI and Mass Effect; Andromeda, I had school to worry about, but for D2, this is not the case. I started writing early, and I managed to get up to chapter four. Sadly, though, the humor doesn't start until what I have planned for chapter 5, and I think you guys are going to like it.
Look up to tomorrow! We take a peaksy at two of the new kids to the Destiny block...
Read and Review!