The Ghost zoomed through the fields of Vex constructs. There truly was no organic life left on Mercury with the exception of Vex Mind Fluid and
the corpse of the Master. The Ghost stopped at the clearing of constructs to scan the rectangular canyons beyond the Cliffside. That's when a
bright sleek blast fired right past the Ghost, barely bursting it like throwing a dart at a balloon. The Ghost shot up high to safer space while turning
around to see the Vex Goblin. It's brown hull perfectly still as it starred up with that haunting red Cyclops eye. No will. No real emotion of its own.
Just an extension of the will of the Axis mind that now rules these labyrinth streets.
The nature of Vex intelligence reminded the ghost of an old creature it had read about within old books called a "cephalopod". One head that
controls the many dangerous tentacles. But if one of those tentacles were to be severed, the head no longer controls it. If the tentacle were to be
cut off from the mental network and somehow be made to move independently? If something with the ability to give it a mind of its own?
The Ghost dodged the next rain of shots fired by the Vex with swift hovering. The Ghost had an idea but it would be incredibly risky. And Ghosts
were risky. Especially these unique variations.
The Ghost evaded the next series of shots and quickly swirled around as the larger machine attempted to fire a blast of energy from its hand. The
Ghost hovered up behind the Vex before slamming itself into the back of it's neck joint. The Goblin stumbled foreword. Closer to the Edge. Good.
The Ghost continued to swirl around with its clumsy gymnastics (or what a ghost would count as gymnastics) in order to confuse the vex and get it
closer to the edge until one leg missed the end. Then Due to its limited articulation, the Vex failed to land its other foot on the ledge and fell off.
The Ghost chased down immediately after. The Ghost could hear the mechanical scream of the machine as it fired downwards into the canyon.
The Ghost had to be there as soon as it smashes against the street. A moment too late and the vex network can take the unit out from known
time space to be repaired.
The Ghost made it close to the floor as the machine landed with a crash. It's milk-like mind fluid splashed with metal shrapnel exploding into
chaos all over like some deranged version of a mechanical piñata. Immediately the Ghost went to work.
The Ghost rocketed through the void and the stars like the smallest space faring ship known to life. The normal Ghost could not come close to
managing such a task. Had the stable yet stubborn ways of the tower opened its mind to new possibilities, its forces would achieve capabilities
they would have never considered possible.
After fighting the rush of a fiery atmosphere, the Ghost turned upwards to avoid burying itself more than a mile within the rusted sands of Mars
or explode in the process. Now the Ghost was elegantly soaring across the vast red planet and the half living desert. After a few minutes of lifeless
dunes, what came into view was the aftermath of a battlefield. A brutal fight between Vex under the will of a separate mind and the juggernaut
military of the cabal.
Sensing back home that one of its fellow Ghosts had chosen one from among the Vex, this one made sure it would not choose one as well.
Sweeping across the corpse littered sands, the Ghost came across what it would assume was the commander of this particularly bulky species.
And the Ghost was right. Before it laid a dead Centurion with a series of arc burns within the armour.
Healing the wounds and gathering nearby materials, the Ghost reshaped the Centurion's gear into ornate armor fit for a true war hero. And within
a moment, the reborn creature opened its now improved eyes behind the glorious helmet. It peered up upon the little machine.
"Hi there. I'm a ghost. The Seeking-Eye class. My master sent me to find you" the little light began.
A little lantern in a complex of wretched dungeons. Other than the catacombs within Mercury, the Basement of the Dreadnaught was the last
place for a lonely Ghost to be exploring. Evading the rabid thralls and abominable Ogres, the Ghost went along scanning the various prisoner cells
on the walls like a curious reader searching in a library.
Until at last, a powerful traitor was on her few strands of life remaining within her sarcophagus of a cell. The Ghost began streaming out a narrow
laser from its eye. It had to hurry soon or the nightmares nearby would zero in on his plentiful light. After cutting a rim around the lid, the metal
surface fell down with a loud slam. From a distance, the Ghost could hear the deranged cries and clicking noises of thralls and the haunting wail of
an Ogre. From the cell fell out an Acolyte who had begun to close her tired eyes for the final time in this current life.
The Ghost spied the ritual from behind a column. Members from the House of Kings gathered around the chamber to witness the Archon punish a
Vandal who had miserably failed in his recent mission. The Ghost watched in Horror as the Vandal tried to squirm away hopelessly. But two others
held him by all four of his arms. The Archon Priest pulled out a rough and uneven blade.
The Ghost turned away to avoid having to witness the Vandal screaming in agony as his lower arms were shredded off with a saw-like tool. When
the Ghost looked back, the members who had been holding the Vandal hostage were now placing metal caps where the arms used to be. What
appeared to be a fallen with half of its body replaced with machinery appeared from the crowd and melded the caps on with a makeshift
blowtorch.
About half an hour later the gathering dispersed as if nothing had happened during the day. The Ghost, however, was curious about this one
member and wanted to investigate. He found the same vandal, now demoted to dreg, separated from the rest of the Fallen. The Ghost began to
feel sorry as it watched the ashamed and humiliated creature moving into a private area, stumbling as it moved due to the sudden change in
balance. The Ghost required a dead body to use as a warrior. But it wouldn't be quite happy with the way it got what it was looking for. The Ghost
saw everything when the Dreg pulled out a dagger. The only weapon it had left, and brought it up to its throat.