It started again. The cold drops of water falling from the heavens were cool relief from the burning in his chest. Always burning. He opened his eyes, his blurred vision making it difficult to discern his surroundings. He rolled to his side. Long, thin reeds of grass brushed against the bare skin of his arms, sticking to his wet clothing. "Where am I?" Spirit thought.
As he returned to reality, his senses began to come to him in snippets. Weak kneed, he tried to stand. It was slow progress, but if he tried to move too quickly, he was sure to fall again. He stood, hunched. It was dark, nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of him with any true detail. The rain was coming down harder, causing a cacophony of pitters and patters, and soaking him to the bone. He reached up toward his face, pushing his medium length hair back, trusting the water would keep it out of his way. "How did I get here?" he mused silently. The answer evaded him.
This storm was quickly becoming a monsoon. It felt more like he was standing under a waterfall than out in a storm by now. He looked to the sky, into the inky blackness of the night. "Perfect." He muttered, "Well, it can't get any worse…"
As if the gods had heard him, the earth shook with an explosive crack. A rod of brilliant white light illuminated the sky as if it was daytime. Spirit was reviled by what he saw. Humanoid figures surrounded him, staring forward. Their flesh wrapped taut around their bones like wet paper. Empty sockets gazed onward blindly; as time had taken their eyes. Jaws hung slack, as gravity had overcome the stiffness of the dead. This was a field of corpses. As soon as the light had appeared, it was gone; leaving him alone in the void.
Spirit's' eyes snapped open and he moved his hands quickly to shield himself from his mind's eye. He let out a shout, tensed up. After several painstaking seconds, he opened his eyes to look around, to take inventory of his senses. The only water on his person was his own cold sweat. There was no pattering of rain, simply the faint hum of his ship's engines. "Guardian, are you alright?" a metallic voice asked. Spirit lowered his arms to see a jagged white cube hovering about a foot away from him, its circular center, glowing blue, scanned him with what 'felt' like concern. Ghost was its name. Well, it was a Ghost of the Traveller; an artificial intelligence born of the Traveler's dying breaths. Their purpose- to seek out beings capable of wielding the Traveler's Light, and defending Humanity to their very end.
"Fine, Ghost…" Spirit groaned. He finally remembered why he was where he was. "How long was I out? What's our ETA?" He asked, looking out of the viewport in front of him. Earth was roughly the size of his fist, and the moon his thumbnail in the foreground of a sea of stars.
"You were asleep for four hours, thirty two minutes." Ghost absolutely. "We will be at earth in twenty-seven minutes, landing in the southwestern area of North America."
Spirit grunted in acknowledgement as he hefted himself out of the pilots chair, his boots making a soft click as they met the cold metal floor. He walked back to the porthole behind his chair. "I do love how chipper you are when you wake up, Spirit." Ghost chirped at him.
Spirit grunted again as he slid down the ladder to the cargo hold. He didn't feel like talking to Ghost right now, through no fault of the droid's. It was just that he needed to clear his mind before the mission set out before him. The cargo hold was spacious, enough to hold his Sparrow, a recon speeder commonly used by guardians, as well as several other guardians. Off in the corner, on metal racks stood his armor and weapons; between them stood a mirror. Arctic white with an azure highlight. The armor bore multiple scars of conflict. Pockmarked by bullets, grenades, and even a few drawing cuts from blades. It was his only shield from the enemies of humanity.
He moved into the corner, catching himself in the mirror. Clad in a black padded bodysuit, ending at his wrists and leading into form fitting black boots, the tall man cut quite the figure. The suit hid much of his life from the world, the scars from his armor wasn't enough; stories where something beyond skill or luck had saved his life. His skin was very pale, accented by his angular features and pale blue eyes. His hair was jet black, kept short. The bangs did not fall past his eyebrows, and the rest did not go past his ears. He was surprised that more people didn't mistake him for an awoken.
Slowly he strapped himself into his armor. The weight familiar and comfortable. He was aware of the automated processes in the ship that could put his armor on more quickly, but he could never do it. There was something about the process that helped him through the calm before battle. Besides, it was hardly difficult. The plates attached directly to the mesh suit. Within a few moments, he was armor clad to the neck. He looked to the final piece, his helmet. The command center for the rest of his armor. He always saved it for last. The 'jaw' of the helmet held the armored parts. The respirators, gas filters, and microphone were all contained within. The upper half was mirrored, allowing him to see outward without others seeing inward. He couldn't help but smile as he grabbed it. Fitting it over his head, it sealed to the mesh suit. He was ready.
With a slight clicking noise he felt the armor activate. Alone, he was just a man, but through the suit nearly every one of his abilities was augmented and heightened. He could hear more acutely, run faster, and hit harder. He moved to his weapons. First, he grabbed his sidearm. A handcannon that strapped to his thigh. Second, his primary weapon. A wellmade autogun gifted to him by The Speaker himself. He smiled to himself as he put the rifle onto his back.
He went back up to the cockpit and saw Ghost flitting back and forth through the cockpit, quickly, it noticed him. "Ah, Spirit! Dashing as ever, I see." he quipped, "We are over North America, and the ship is set on autopilot. Are you ready to descend?" Ghost asked.
"Yeah… Just a sec…" Spirit said, waving him off as he stepped toward the viewport. He stared down at the planet he called home. Scarred, but standing. It was still beautiful in his eyes. It was difficult to believe that in just a few minutes, he'd be in a warzone. All for a rumor. There was no use complaining about it, such was not the way of a Titan. "Alright. I'm ready." Spirit confirmed. He closed his eyes as he waited for Ghost to port him to the surface. For what felt like a second, the ground fell out from beneath him. He felt his stomach churn and the falling sensation took him. He never liked porting, but it was out of the question to try and land in such a hostile area. Every Fallen within one hundred clicks would be on them immediately.
Suddenly, he felt himself fall back into reality. Spirit opened his eyes and felt himself land on the red earth of this land. It somewhat reminded him of Mars. He peered out over the landscape for any signs of enemy contact. Nothing yet. It was flat and featureless, a few hills with sprigs of grass growing from them. There were some scattered outcroppings of rocks. It looked clear, but looks could be deceiving.
Ghost hovered up next to him and scanned the area. "According to the Speaker's message, we need to rendezvous with a Hunter by the name of Reis. He knew far more than he was able to transmit back to the City."
"And where exactly is he?" Spirit asked bluntly, removing his rifle from his back.
"Unknown. He would not say over an unsecured channel. He seemed to be trying very hard to keep his presence hidden." Ghost replied.
"Perfect…" Spirit groaned, looking out over the horizon. The sun was still high in the sky over this arid landscape. A bright yellow hole burning through the blue sky. They still had several hours to find him before night fell. "But, who would be able to accurately track a hunter? They're masters of hiding." Spirit questioned as he started walking, his gun pointed at the ground.
"I do not know. Perhaps someone adept at hunting the Hunters." Ghost mused.
"Well, I hope we find him before whoever that would be does." Spirit replied. Some part of him was getting a bad feeling in his gut. If Spirit had learned one thing during his service, it was to pay attention to those feelings.