Jack was never one for the "arcane" arts. Sure, he Bladedanced with the best of them occasionally. Every now and then, he would disintegrate someone in one shot. No big deal. Hunters were known to do that. And some of his favorite guns shot electricity for bullets and breathed fire like an Ahamkara.
But he knew his limits. The Traveler's light was an incredible power, but he wasn't so keen on delving deep into its mysteriesi. There were too many tall tales, too many missing Warlocks. Too much "time travel". He feared he would lose himself if he tried to contemplate it. He feared for his friends. Sixty-Eight was a thinker of a Titan if he ever saw one, but not one that would go off the deep end trying to tear holes in reality.
His other Exo friend, Blaze-13, he had doubts about. He would stare into the distance so much it seemed like he was trying to make it blink. Exos were already not well understood. An Exo Warlock was a whole other issue. Blaze spent too much time in his head. Contemplating everything, worrying about the "why". Jack was glad he hadn't dabbled much in the "Sunsinger" arts (Jack had laughed to himself about how silly the name was when he was sure no Warlocks were around).
Coming back from the dead was really no big deal now. Jack was skilled, but his ghost had pulled him out of plenty of disasters in the past. That was different though. Those "Sunsingers" pulled themselves back together, from utter oblivion sometimes. His ghost he trusted. It had proven itself, it knew how to put an Awoken back together. But Jack wasn't sure that he could recreate himself if he had to.
It seemed to him like every time one of them exploded forth from the void, they left behind a piece of themselves. Seeing it happen before your eyes made you wonder, how could it not?
Everyone had heard of Dredgen Yor, or Toland the Shattered. Those who were consumed by the very thing they fought. Jack wouldn't let that happen to his friends.
Sixty-Eight's name should be spoken in the same breath as Lord Shaxx or Saladin.
No one should have to hear the tale of the fall of Blaze-13.
So he prodded and pushed, always kept them on their toes. Gave them something else to focus on. It wasn't like it was hard. He scouted for them, as any good hunter would, and they watched his six. It was a mutually beneficial relationship.
The Universe was a dark and strange place. It didn't really bother him that he didn't understand it all. It wasn't his to understand. He protected those that needed protecting and gave a lot of Guardians painful lessons to mull over in the Crucible. As long as he could keep his friends from going crazy too, he could go to sleep with a smile on his face.
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