Roman the Arbiter

by FUN 2 KNOW

Every Guardian was at one point just a Mote of Light and Warlock Roman is no exception. Follow Guardian Roman's struggles and triumphs in the ongoing war of attrition with the Darkness; an evil entity who seems to want nothing but the total annihilation of humanity and its mysterious protector, whom is known only as the Traveler.

Roman the Arbiter

AU: I've been playing Destiny a lot as of late and even with the addition of the Taken King DLC I thought that the first year content could be fleshed out more. So this is my attempt at adding more of a cohesive story to Destiny from the perspective of my own Guardian and his hurdles and triumphs. Bear in mind that Destiny still as of this writing has remarkably little in way of content so I'll very likely have to make up some things as I go; though I promise to make those explanation as realistic to the story as possible. Updates will likely be infrequent, though that may change depending on how much investment I'll put into the fic. Please leave a review, I really like seeing feedback from readers. Constructive criticism is welcome; it helps to improve my writing and story.

Disclaimer: I'm not entirely sure if this is something required but seeing as how nearly every fic I've read has it I'll just follow along. I don't claim to own Destiny. All rights, discluding my Guardian and any OC, belong to Bungie and Activision.

Chapter 1: Wake Up Call

...

For the record, I would like to state that this journal is for the purpose of posterity and a method that my Ghost, Tesla, recommended I use to commit any of my thoughts or ideas down. Sometimes I can't help but think the little light bulb is more human than me…don't tell him I said that; he's very sensitive about that nickname ever since our first encounter with the female Exo we so eloquently dubbed at "The Stranger", for lack of a better name. I'll have to ask for her name the next time I see her; if I see again.

Anyway, before I get too far off tangent, I guess I should start from the very beginning before I delve into our current predicament; not that we're lacking in those mind you, what with the Fallen, Hive, Cabal, Vex and god knows whatever other alien race out there that has some deep seated hatred for humanity. But I digress. It all started at the Cosmodrome near the spaceport in what is now known as Old Russia many, many years ago…

...

"Nope, not here," a heavily synthesized voice spoke. Like every Ghost conceived from the Traveler's light, the little AI searched for its destined Guardian; a person long since dead revived to combat the Darkness and its minions. As of late though, the process of finding these dormant Guardians had been steadily growing in difficulty due to the heavy pressure instilled by the enemies of humanity.

The Fallen especially had been relentless in their mad quest to extinguish the followers of the Light; going so far as to push the last of humanity back on their home world of Earth. Venus, Mars, and even Luna were lost in the crushing and ongoing campaign; leaving Humanity reduced to one last stronghold.

The single blue optic that acted as Ghost's eye gleamed brightly as a ray of light washed over wherever it looked. Emulating the AI equivalent of a sigh, Ghost continued to scan the barren landscape of Old Russia. Due to the immense need for more guardians ever since the Traveler fell into a dormant state, the Ghosts had ventured out, scavenging the verse for their partners. But with Humanity's appalling state, the Ghosts' search were restricted to certain key areas that were not lost to the Darkness.

Most of the locations that had been deemed safe to resurrect new Guardians had been nearly depleted, leaving the remaining Ghost to take their scavenger hunt into more hostile environments. Ghost had taken great pains to avoid the Fallen scouts that lingered in Old Russia.

"What's this?" Ghost nearly passed it in his hurried scans, but the signal was unmistakable. Activating his deep range scanners, Ghost's body split into several fragments which rotated harmonically around a sphere of blue light. The AI recognized a faint trail of Light that led to the old remains of a skeleton.

Upon closer inspection Ghost matched the skeletal remains to those of an awoken male whose decomposed state put his time of death right around the twilight years of the Collapse.

"I've found you." Without delay or hesitation, the Ghost, imbued the remains with the Light of the Traveler, beginning the restoration process.

...

It was like waking from a deep slumber. The grogginess was immense and the stiffness even more so. His vision was blurred, almost hazy-like. Then, like a fog dissipating to let the sun shine through, his vision became steadily clearer, until he was able to make out a peculiar shape. Idly, he realized that the figure was small and spoke with an odd chirpy accent that strangely gave comfort in its sincerity.

"Guardian, wake up."

Guardian? Why did the voice refer to him under such a title? That was not his name. He paused, trying to grasp what his true name was. A brief sense of panic swelled within his chest but then like a switch the name came to him.

"Roman. My name... it's Roman." His voice came out slow and hoarse, like it hadn't been used in years, left to atrophy.

"Easy there Guardian. You've only just been revived. Give your body a moment to adjust itself." The voice spoke calmly, as though a doctor tending to their patient.

Roman's eyes began to sharpen into focus, finally allowing him a clear image of the voice's appearance. It had a humorously small size that belayed its robust and deeply synthesized voice. Prism edges jutted out in every portion of its body, which couldn't be bigger than the palm of the Awoken's hand. A single lively blue hue of an eye shined brightly in its center mass, flickering every so often as though it were blinking.

Roman made to move but his body was slow to respond, incredibly stiff. He brought his hands in front of himself, uncurling them slowly and hearing audible pops as they stretched to their full length. His hands, he noticed, were covered in thick black greaves that connected to a black body suit. Draped over his torso, the Awoken wore a cool blue tunic-like garment with white trimmings around the edges. Even his head was outfitted with a form fitting helmet, which thankfully didn't obstruct his vision. How or when he got the armor was a mystery to the Awoken.

The little floating robot wavered around in the air, waiting almost impatiently as Roman took a moment to limber his body. His eyes then moved around the vicinity, unfamiliar with the scenery or how he got there. A sea of car cadavers were left strewn throughout the streets and a faint wind echoed in the background like a waning cry. Pockets of snow littered the scenery, indicating that he was in a colder climate.

"Where am I?"

"You're currently in Old Russia, more specifically the remains of the Cosmodrome spaceport." The Ghost answered helpfully. The answer only confused him more. He had no recollection of any of those titles the AI threw at him.

"Who are you? And why do you keeping calling me Guardian?" A distorted and unearthly screech reverberated throughout the empty lot, making Roman tense.

"No time for explanations Guardian. We're in enemy territory. First, let's get you to a safer location. One moment." Before Roman could give a retort or offer any more questions the Ghost disappeared in a wink. Roman moved his head aimlessly around, only to find no sight of the peculiar AI.

"Don't worry, I'm still with you." The familiar voice of the Ghost spoke. Roman jumped; the voice had felt like it resounded within the confines of his mind. It was a discomforting prospect. As if sensing his inner turmoil the Ghost thought it prudent to assuage his worries.

"Calm down Guardian, I'm on your side. I know that you're feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment, but let me assure you that I'll answer all of your questions as soon as we get to safer location." The Ghost paused, as though distracted by something, and then returned to speaking. "I'm sensing movement closing in on our area. The Fallen must've sensed me reviving you. We need to move, preferably now. The Fallen aren't known for being merciful."

A waypoint marker bleeped into existence on his screen's HUD, highlighting the abandoned buildings in the distance. "I'll guide you through the spaceport; move!" Without even pausing to question the integrity of the Ghost's command, Roman made a beeline for the spaceport. He didn't need any explanation to know that the origin of whatever made that sound earlier couldn't have good intentions for him.

The armor that the Ghost had constructed for Roman aided in his movements as he glided past fading vehicles and a startled murder of crows. Quickly, he made his way through a back entrance; the door had fallen apart from disrepair and years of neglect. Roman found himself in a deep and winding hallway that was dimly lit from the half closed shades by the windows. Rusted lead pipes stretched along the walls and ceiling, accompanied by the occasional leaking of water. It eerily felt like a boiler room of some kind, minus the oppressive heat, which was likely do to a lack of power.

Quick clanking noises from above made Roman pause in his movements. He could even hear the odd faint chatter through the decrepit walls. The Ghost felt it prudent to convey the obvious. "They're above us on the next floor. You'll have to be careful until we can find you a weapon."

"Could you give me a little background on these Fallen guys? I'd like to know exactly what I'm up against." An image appeared on the corner of his HUD. It was a four armed faceless creature with four pupil-less eyes that struck a menacing figure. "In short the Fallen are a scourge of alien mercenaries and pirates that have been harassing Earth's inhabitants for quite some time now. I'd advice extreme caution when approaching them."

"I'll need a weapon if I'm gonna be fighting these things off." Roman commented, looking around the area for something that he could use as a weapon.

"Right, I'll see about finding you a firearm." The Ghost agreed.

"Through this door now." Roman followed his little guide's directions, which led the Guardian to a cavernous room consumed by darkness. Visibility was practically impossible; he couldn't see more than a few shapes in the near distance. The Ghost flashed into existence beside him and Roman could feel the absence of its presence within his mind. It struck the Awoken as odd that he almost missed their connection. The light from Ghost's eye seemed more luminescent in the darkly lit room.

"I'll see about restoring the spaceport's power. The Fallen thrive in the dark, we don't." The Ghost explained ominously. Ghost drifted off to some unseen location, but Roman could see the light emanating from its eye so he was reassured that it hadn't abandoned him. Some shuffling movements and creeping noises coming from within the darkness did nothing to settle his already on edge nerves. Roman tightened his hands into fists as he was forced to wait in the dark, praying that some Fallen creature didn't swoop down and gut him unexpectedly. Strangely enough though, he wasn't panicking; almost like he had been under a similar situation before but couldn't remember the circumstances.

"Come to think of it, I can't remember much of anything," he thought.

Before Roman could pursue the surprising gap of memories that he lacked, his Ghost's voice cut in with a triumphant tone. "I got it!" As soon it made that exclamation, the ceiling lights flickered on, illuminating the spacious room. Roman was both grateful and cursing the little Ghost in that moment because he immediately took notice of a squad of Fallen troops, accompanied by their hovering mechanical technicians and hounds; Shanks. Shortly after he took in their appearance, one of the Dreg mercenaries, a disgraced Fallen member who had two of its arms amputated; pointed a clawed finger in his direction and shouted in an obscene foreign language.

Roman was already moving when he could feel the shots impact behind him, where he had been standing. The Guardian sprinted to the adjourning room, taking refuge from their gunfire.

"Now would be a great time to have a weapon." Without one, the reborn Guardian felt defenseless.

As if to answer his prayer, Ghost's voice pitched in from within his mind again, highlighting an object in the room. "There! A weapon."

Roman raced over to the weapon, deftly picking it up to inspect it. The weapon was an ancient looking rifle but miraculously still in decent condition. A small caption of text scrolled across his HUD, giving him a short description of the gun. In his hands the rifle seemed a little overbearing but he would have to make do. The Awoken hadn't the time or luxury to be particularly picky in this moment.

"It's a Khovostov 7G-02." Ghost supplied helpfully. Checking the magazine clip, Roman confirmed that it was indeed full. Satisfied with his inspection, he smacked the clip back in place and fingered the safety off.

With haste, Roman sped around the corner, only to be confronted by two Dreg scouts. Thankfully, the Guardian was the first one to react and fired a few thumping rounds into the chest cavity of the first, breaching through the armor and killing it instantly before he moved onto the next. By that time, the remaining Dreg had enough time to bring its weapon to bear and got off a few shots. The pulsing blue rounds of its strange weapon were slow but difficult to maneuver around. Roman was forced to roll to the side before propping himself into a kneed position. Quickly, the Awoken pressed his advantage and fired a few more rounds from his rifle which struck home. The Dreg made a rasping noise through its face-concealing helmet as it pawed at its wounds which leaked a dark blue color. Without remorse, Roman fired a fatal shot to its head, ending the miserable creature's existence.

Roman lowered the Khovostov as he paused to inspect the aliens that he had slain. Most of its form was shrouded by dark themed garments dotted with armor pieces in the most important areas of its anatomy. A scarlet red mohawk protruded from its angular head. The pirates mouth was agape, revealing a row of carnivorous teeth that resembled sharpened blades. The once luminescent blue-white eyes it possessed were now dead, leaving only a void of blackness.

A bladed weapon sheathed in its side-hip caught Roman's attention. Bending down, the Guardian extracted the knife from the corpse. It was a crude looking weapon with a jagged edge; fitting the image of a race consisting of pirates and mercenaries. The Awoken gave it a few testing swings before sheathing and attaching it to his utility belt. He figured it would be put to better use in his hands rather than being left behind on a decomposing corpse.

"Uh, not to rush you or anything, but we do have more Fallen on the approach." His Ghost's voice cut in warningly. Roman took the advice to heart and soldiered on to the task ahead. The Guardian passed through several sections until he reached an extremely narrow passage that seemed to split into two connecting paths. What immediately caught his attention were the thin beams of red light that shot out across the walls in crisscross patterns.

"Watch out for those beams, they're trip mines!" Ghost advised with haste before Roman was forced to dive into cover from Fallen fire. Up ahead, Roman could make out the angry beady eyes of a detachment of Dregs just beyond the barrier of trip mines. Without even looking, the Guardian fired from behind cover in the general direction of the enemy in hopes of giving himself some time to formulate a plan. Getting in close with the trip mines was practically impossible without setting the detonators off, not to mention the onslaught of rounds that the Dregs would be firing at him the moment he moved from cover.

An opportunity presented itself when a few of the overly eager Dregs attempted to close in on the Awoken's position, coming perilously close to the laser sights of the trip mines. Roman immediately capitalized on the Dregs' mistake and took careful aim at the trip mines' detonators. The charges exploded, catching a pair alien mercs in a fiery blaze that consumed them. Roman swiftly moved to shoot the other charges, setting off a chain of small explosions that sent the whole room shaking in the quake of the destruction. The Guardian pelted the remaining forces that had survived the explosives until there were no more targets left.

"Nice work," Ghost complimented, impressed by Romans's performance. "I've been scanning the area for a ship transport and I think I've got something. Unfortunately, it's on the other side of the building, past the most densely packed cluster of Fallen."

"Right." Roman sighed. He ejected the Khovostov's magazine and inserted a fresh one. Thankfully, the Guardian didn't have to worry about running out of ammunition so long as Ghost had the right materials to reconfigure a utilitarian programmable matter known as Glitter. It was the same stuff that Ghost had used to construct his armor and clothing; a tremendously useful commodity.

Roman increased his pace but was mindful of Fallen scouts and platoons. Ghost had configured his armor's sensors to detect the dark energy that all of the Fallen minions emitted. He hadn't been able to get the specifics out of Ghost but evidently the Fallen were connected to a more powerful entity known only as the Darkness. The name alone sounded ominous and Roman didn't know what to feel about it. He brushed those thoughts to the side. The matter at hand brought more than enough problems and the Awoken was still trying to piece together what happened to him. There would be more time to ponder about this Darkness after he made it out of his current situation alive.

Guided by Ghost's directions, Roman clung to the shadows, skillfully avoiding a few of the largest patrols; though not without a few close calls. Roman had no delusions that he could take on the entirety of the Fallen House on his own with but a knife and an outdated rifle. The Guardian had been lucky enough that the Fallen Dregs were so overzealous that he was able to use their own traps against them.

"Over there! There's a jumpship." His Ghost piped in excitedly. The AI was right. A worn and beaten looking jumpship was strung up in midair by loose cables and wiring on the vessel's underside which kept it suspended. Roman had doubts that the bird was capable of flight but seeing as it was his only ticket out of this hellhole, he wasn't left with much choice. What further complicated matters was that the Fallen were already there, inspecting the vessel; perhaps to dismantle it for parts and salvage. He couldn't have that.

"Watch out for that Captain over there." Ghost cautioned, his synthesized voice lowering to match the gravity of his seriousness. "They lead Fallen troops into battle and they're more ruthless and cunning than the average Vandal. It also doesn't help that their typically better armored and equipped because of their position."

Roman's HUD magnified on a particular Fallen member that stood out amongst its peers, and with good reason. It was an imposing Vandal that stood a good head taller than its kin and it was armed to the teeth with a wicked looking shotgun. A flowing crimson cape was draped smartly around its shoulders, adding to its appearance of importance. Silently it stood to the back, flanked by two other Vandal guards, seemingly supervising the Dregs picking the bones of the jumpship. Roman took a head count of the Fallen members, totaling up to half a dozen mercs, including the captain.

"I can deal with the Dregs easy enough. It's the Captain and his bodyguards that I'll have trouble with," Roman thought as he appraised the situation. He reached for his side and pulled out a thin cylinder-like object with an adhesive substance on one end. It was a trip-mine grenade that the Awoken had managed to pilfer from one of the few Dregs that he had stealthily killed. The pirates had probably meant to set more traps with the mines, but Roman had a more personally beneficial use of the explosive.

The Guardian primed the grenade and tossed the device across the room until it stuck itself to the ground right in the thick of the Captain's presence. Without preamble the tripmine's sensors picked up motion and exploded before the Fallen mercs could safely vacate the area. Both of the Captain's guards died in the ensuing explosion, but the Captain himself managed to survive the impact by way of his superior armor and reflexes. Its right side was scorched black but the leading pirate seemed more enraged than hurt. Roman didn't waste any time and snapped off his Khovostov, not intent on letting up his viscous assault.

The Captain spat out venomously in its foreign tongue and rolled to the side behind a metal beam. By then the Dregs that had been prodding the jumpship had entered the fray and opened fire on Roman. Forced to seek out cover lest he be fried by Pulse energy, Roman cursed at his inability to finish off the Fallen Captain, giving it precious time to recuperate. The Awoken made out in a quick sprint across the room, skidding across the floor until he was on the Dregs' flank side. The newly revived Guardian pressed against the steel of the jumpship, using its body as a defense.

The Dregs paused their gunfire, hesitant to damage the potential salvage that the ship would no doubt yield. Roman capitalized on their hesitance, having no qualms with taking advantage of the circumstance. He fired off a clip, hitting fatal areas that downed two of the mercs. The last Dreg, seeing his companions fall, took out dual knives and rushed Roman's position with worrying speed. The pirate came within a mere two meters until a knife embedded itself into the center of its forehead. The Awoken's outstretched arm lowered as he watched the disgraced alien fall limply to the concrete with a heavy thud.

Roman couldn't relish his victory as he heard a piercing alien war cry. Turning to the direction of the disturbance the Guardian was nearly knocked off his feet by a shower of solar energy. A shrill alarm resounded, signifying that his shield had collapsed and leaving the Guardian vulnerable. Roman was already in the processes of doubling back into a roll when another series of rounds were sent his way.

A deep and raspy chuckle met the Awoken's ears. Roman didn't need to know the Fallen's native language to understand that the Captain was aching to riddle him with holes. The Guardian blind fired a few rounds from cover in attempt to bide time for his shields to recharge. The Fallen Captain was barely fazed by the sporadic burst from the Kohvostov as it closed in on his position with clear ill intent. A mighty growl was the Guardian's only warning before the Captain lifted one leg in the air and brought it down. Roman kicked the ground beneath his feet as he slid over to another support beam.

The Captain made a grumbling noise akin to a "tsk" as it lifted its foot from the deeply indented ground. Not knowing what else to do, Roman brought his rifle up and opened fire. The Captain tossed its shotgun aside and shed two gleaming curved swords that cackled with electrical sparks. Its shields withstood for a few seconds then fizzled out of existence, yet the Captain maintained his course unabashed.

Roman immediately began backpedaling to maintain some distance between himself and the fatal looking blades, but the Fallen Vandal was fast. Before the Guardian could react the Captain simply blinked out of existence, only to reappear a few feet to the side, on his flank. Roman's auto rifle was harshly knocked out of his hands before a lancing pain jolted in his right shoulder. The Awoken cried out in pain as he fell to floor, the automatic rifle forgotten as he clutched his wound.

Roman could faintly hear his little Ghost's alarmed and harried sounding voice as blood began to seep out from the deep cut on his shoulder. Electric blue blades of energy descended upon the injured Guardian, who willed his body to move. Stumbling over his feet, Roman narrowly avoided being hacked into. He could feel his heartbeat hammering inside of his own ears, like an erratic drumbeat.

The Captain gave a throaty chortle of dark amusement as he played with his prey. A small part of Roman felt rage at the fact that this Fallen mercenary was making sport of his life, but the more sober side of him saw the opportunity that could be exploited from the alien's overconfidence. Roman grasped onto that part of his sub-consciousness; the part that wasn't prone to succumbing to base fear and getting him killed. The Guardian's eyes frantically darted around the room for a weapon that could be utilized. Perhaps the Khovostov if it was still operable.

His eyes froze on the hilt of the trench knife still embedded into the forehead of the Fallen Dreg that he had impaled earlier. Instincts took over and Roman dove for the weapon, stifling a pained hiss as his backside took a slash that he couldn't completely avoid. In a swift flurry of movement, the Awoken removed the crude knife and spun on his heel to meet the Fallen Captain in melee. At least, that was the improvised plan. Before the Awoken could raise the knife, the Captain's four digit hand held his own in a vice grip. Roman could've sworn he heard the bones in his hand creak under the Vandal's superior strength. Time seemed to crawl to an unbearably slow pace in one of those moments when you vaguely realized that this could be your last.

"This can't be it." Roman thought determinedly in his mind. "I didn't come back only to be put six feet under again in less than a day." Then, time began to speed up in a blur for the Awoken, his mind not quite registering the motions his body was moving in. The Guardian didn't question it though, as he was far too focused on surviving this kill or be killed struggle. Roman felt an almost unnatural calm chill pervade his body before an unknown yet strangely familiar power began to swell within his center, threatening to burst out in an explosion.

Using his other non-inhibited hand, Roman thrusted outward, releasing all of that pent up energy into the chest of the Fallen Captain. Being so close to the Guardian's personal space, the Vandal was unable to maneuver out of the way of Roman's counter attack. The pulsing energy flared from Roman's open palm with the heat of the sun itself, burning away at the mighty Fallen member's breast plate. An inhuman sound rasped out between the Vandal's shark-like teeth. The wounded Guardian likened it to the sound of scrap metal being churned in a blender. Instincts took over as Roman hastily moved to pick up the nearly forgotten trench knife, fumbling with it for a second before finding purchase.

Without preamble or thought the Guardian pivoted his body for extra momentum, thrusting the blade skyward until it burrowed under the chin and deep into the skull. For a moment the Fallen member twitched, and then the last vestiges of life extinguished like a match stick. The cold blue-white luminescence from its multiple eyes dimmed an unholy black and Roman knew with certainty that he had won. He pulled out his blood stained weapon with an audible wet slick.

Roman stared numbly at his good hand, ignoring the knife drenched in blood. The pyro-type energy that he'd felt and harnessed earlier had vanished, as though it hadn't had occurred, but the Guardian knew for certain that it was real.

"Are you alright Guardian?" Ghost's voice broke through the Awoken's ruminations. Roman tried to move his body and felt a stabbing pain that lanced seemingly everywhere. A subtle moan escaped his mouth.

"Some of the nerves in your shoulder and upper back are stunned, and it looks like a few of your fingers are broken. Don't worry though, I'll get you fully recuperated after we get you some medical treatment. Bring me over to the jumpship and I'll see what I can do."

Roman didn't bother with a verbal reply; just silently waddled over to the downed bird. As before, Ghost winked into existence and quickly got to work. Its single glowing eye scanned the vessel's body. Minutes ticked by but to Roman those few minutes felt like an eternity. The Guardian spent the downtime pondering what the power he had unlocked earlier was, if only to distract himself from the pain coursing throughout his body. Roman felt that Ghost knew full well what he had done, but refrained from asking, lest he somehow disrupt the AI's concentration.

There were a mounting number of unanswered questions that needed some tending to when they got out of their predicament. A chilling howl seemed to echo everywhere within the building, shaking its foundation. Roman was immediately on alert, scanning the immediate area for any sign of Fallen.

"Ghost!" The Guardian shouted to his companion, a question lingering in his voice.

"Hold on; almost got it!" Idly the Guardian noticed that he only had his trench knife on hand and went to secure the Khovostov. Roman found the antiquated rifle lying on its side, unscathed for the most part. It brought some small measure of comfort to know that he had his primary weapon in his hands once again. Though, something distinctly told Roman that he'd need more than a knife and an outdated rifle to take on whatever was coming his way.

"I got it!" Ghost's triumphant voice shouted with vigor. Life seemed breathe into the previously dead jumpship. The ship lurched as its thrusters ignited. It shook a few times, untangling itself from the vine-like wires.

"Initiating the transmat process now." A flurry of clanking footwork and muffled voices erupted from a dark tunnel behind. Instinctively, Roman turned towards the noise with his rifle poised into the darkness, the hairs on the back of his neck and arms rising in anticipation of another grueling firefight.

Four bulky arms whisked out from the shadows, griping firmly on the mouth of the dark cavern. The arms pushed foreword the terrifying sight of a Fallen Vandal; this one even larger in stature than the Captain he had killed earlier, and from a quick assessment Roman was led to believe that the alien was a hell of a lot stronger too. Two Dregs were seen on its heel but the minor pirates seemed to fade into the background when in the presence of the Fallen behemoth.

"Transmat process is complete. Pulling you in now." Roman had never felt more relief that when he heard those eight uplifting words from his Ghost. The Awoken's scenery changed as his body materialized into the cockpit of the jumpship that the AI had commandeered. "Strap in, I'll get us out of here."

The Guardian silently acquiesced to the Ghost's command, adjusting a harness over himself. A banging noise resounded against the bulkhead, accompanied by the chamber of a cannon going off. For a terrifying moment, Roman thought that the ship had somehow been breached, but his worries were assuaged by the thrum of the bird's engine as it jerked skyward. The ship exited through the gaping hole in the ceiling that was probably caused by the very ship that the Awoken was occupying.

Roman could've sworn he heard a distant outraged roar as he leaned his head back into the seat, finally allowing himself to relax for the first time since his revival from the afterlife. The thought that he had been previously dead only a few hours ago brought on a strange feeling that the Guardian didn't know what to make of. The Awoken couldn't recall his past life, but he did retain basic knowledge of Earth and a few of its inhabitants. Perhaps that knowledge was imparted by this so called Traveler that the Ghost spoke so highly of.

Ghost's body materialized next to Roman in the cockpit. "I've set a course for The City. It's the last settlement on Earth that we've managed to hold against the forces of the Darkness."

"We?"

"Yes, the other Guardians. Previously deceased Humans, Exos and Awoken that were revived by Ghost like me to combat the Darkness' forces which seek to eradicate us." The AI's single blue eye dimmed, mimicking an almost-frown.

"Before we go into explanations, let me have a look at your condition. Those lacerations look they hurt. The Fallen really did a number on you."

Roman waved his new companion off. "I'll be fine. I've had worse before." Ghost seemed slightly taken aback by his words.

"Before? You remember your past life?" Roman's brows creased, questioning the validity of his own statement. He still didn't recollect anything substantial from his past life, so why was he compelled to say otherwise? The Guardian was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he nearly forgot that Ghost had asked him a question.

"No...as far as I know I don't know anything about my personal life before you came along." Roman mutely looked out the windshield of the jumpship, gazing into the sky filled of yellowish orange, marking the time of day. A silence fell between the two occupants of the ship, leaving Ghost to monitor his new charge's condition without interruption. The Awoken didn't recall how much time had passed, phasing in and out of a state of unconsciousness due to natural fatigue and the injuries he sustained.

It became immediately apparent that they had arrived at their destination when the clouds parted, giving Roman his first look at The City. It was a wide area of neatly packed buildings, all of varying sizes, bundled together to form a larger urban scenery. On closer inspection though, it appeared as though a few of the outer districts had fallen into a state of disrepair. From the high altitude he was at though it was impossible to accurately assess the damage. To the distance near the rear was a single edifice that stood out from the rest. Other similar crafts were heading towards its direction, leading Roman to deduce that the place was of significant importance.

But the real object that garnered the Guardian's attention was the massive spherical construct that hovered over the City; its halcyon magnificence clear for all to see. "Is that..." Roman trailed off, but Ghost confirmed the unasked question.

"Yes that is the Traveler; the ethereal construct that has protected humanity from the Darkness' genocidal campaign." Roman stared, transfixed by the Traveler's presence. He only tore his eyes away when Ghost brought their jumpship in over a courtyard. The Guardian found himself dematerializing, only to reappear on the ground outside of the ship. Ghost winked in beside him as the ship took off to an unknown area; likely to be docked.

"This is the Tower Guardian. Welcome home."