Author's Note of Noteworthiness

I digress, I rushed this chapter just a bit so if you spot any mistakes (which I'm sure there probably are), please let me know and I will correct them. I believe you know the drill by now, I'll see you at the bottom...

Oh and...

Act III: Cinders

Chapter 11: Into the Pit Pt. 1

Above the safety of the emptiness of silent space sat a ship in orbit, contained in the rock's thin atmosphere by nothing but weak gravitational rowing and the glint of ship fumes. It would end quickly by the stroke of a hand on a T shaped lever once the moment was declared acceptable. As such, the moving vessel began a steady decline into the thin layer of compounded particles, creating streaks of rushing winds as the creases in the ground grew in size and detail. Somewhere in the distance was a misshapen structure forged into the lower chin of a rift carved by the lords. That was the intended target area, though immediate infiltration was least valued approach. The best tactic, as decided upon before the departure from slipspace, was to somehow engage any presence from above the exterior of the ruined base. Such a move could have been deemed foolish and a waste of time.

Both Titan's agreed for once on that matter but what other choice did they have? Ram their ship into the entrance and go in, guns burning a raging trail without question, vigor driving them to submit to their class's most animalistic instincts? They could use their heads to crack skulls and punch through explosive projectiles till they chipped a nail, but how would that answer up to the grand mistake of forgetting what the end goal was? Time was placing bets on the one gem that shined the brightest. They had to work quickly and effectively to determine the cause of their friend's ailment. Another agreement, though spoken in symbolic fashion.

The cloaked ship landed without incident, emitting no trace of its appearance on the lunar soil. Thrusters activated as normal to a stand by status in the event that a rapid recovery was called for. Ship functions died down as lights remained lively, keeping the inhabitants surrounded by a visage of contrast and direction. The world outside the protective hull was at a lost for color, untouched by the stroke of an artist's bright brush. The grey lands tended to melt into the still image of the bright dots against a black frame, it made for a relaxing fixture. To the occupants in the helm, it mattered little what the skies had in store. Their objective was clear as day.

The Striker placed his helmet on and whizzed around in his chair to meet the figure walking up to him. The soft glow of the lights left a dulling impression on his cream white armor plating, all while his lone black satchel strip secured itself to the man's chest. The bags that hung at his waist were littered with utilities and supplies considered tools for critical missions. The blind stare of his Holdfast helmet was beaming a menacing glare at the Titan in the pilot's seat. Behind him was a large machine gun, prepared to rip apart any foe to shreds with little effort. He looked ready to single handedly weather a storm of all the Traveler's treacherous enemies.

The Defender stood silent, waiting for the Striker to rise from his hold and gear up for an expedition into the deep. "Let's get moving."

"No need to get too pushy Esmond, but you are right. Could you so kindly inform me as to what exactly we could be dealing with?" Grant nicely questioned the Exo as he slid by him to reach the small armory in the back of ship.

"The Saplings; they're ritualistic prophets with unseen abilities and well versed in unconventional matters related to the Darkness. Their powers has had its influence on Hive weaponry and technology, they're not to be underestimated."

"I got that much already. I want to know what will be dealing with down there." Grant rephrased his question while strapping on a rocket launcher.

Esmond shook his head, "How should I know?"

"Really?" Grant finished his preparations with after pulling out a heavily outfitted shotgun. The gun choked loudly on a round once he triggered the slide underneath. "So be it. Are we really going to play this game?"

The Defender made no motion to answer the Striker's question, instead opting to open the hatch in the hangar. The pressure of the door supports hissed with an intimidating anger, most likely upset at the silence of the lunar landscape. The two Titan's walked out of the ship and made their first contact with the natural satellite that guided them from the shadows of night on Earth. They followed the incline up until they reached the edge of the cliff and peered over. Nothing met their gaze from below or anywhere around the abandoned base. Without little warning, Esmond made the first move by stepping off. Grant watched with some shock as he plummeted to the ground, slowing down considerably due to his lift ability. Once he made his safe landing, the Titan motioned for the other to join. Grant followed suit and fell, reliving the motion when he launched a peculiar warlock into a Fallen ship. The experience was similar in that the rush he felt by the absence of all other forces was possibly what Leynna herself felt. He could only imagine that that was how she saw it, as a chance to leave behind all the negativity in exchange for a short moment of release. At least, that was how he saw it. They were doing this for her when she would surely do the same for one of them.

Grant landed after his lift brought him to a safe descent. Holding onto his shotgun, he rushed in the crumbling building.

-o-0-o-

Decrepit; their first steps into preserved history were to be duly noted. Walking past the ancient relics yield no response from the Striker, as he was used to seeing such ruined sights during his adventures as a newly revived guardian. Still, a faint sensation tickled him whenever he took the briefest seconds to just observe. No doubt the Hive have had a hand in keeping most of the front offices in mint condition. Their ode to the preservation of man's earliest achievement was apparent with the clusters of green crystal pillars scattered around. The light source provided created some sort of trail that lead to a gaping opening near one the walls. Strangely enough, the whole place was trapped in some loop of time, frozen under the right circumstances and modernized with features from the present.

At the threshold of the hole was Esmond, prepared to venture down without Grant. Even under the thick helmet and rough extension, Grant could sense the urgency the Exo possessed. In a way, the metal man was prepared to steamroll him over if he failed to keep up. His seriousness was overwhelmingly oppressing but such emotions were something Grant never fully understood.

Something about this felt off to the Striker.

"Hurry." the metal man pressed forward into the dimly lit tunnel. Both men's ghost appeared and from their center came a light in the dark. The reflective beams were absorbed into where the darkness reigned, leading to the gradual decay of colors.

"Our lights seem to be fading. They are being pulled in by the walls." Esmond's ghost spoke. The Exo just nodded, letting his heavy footsteps voice his annoyance.

Eventually, they were right back where they had started, surrounded by the dark and the tense feeling of sapping. Sapping? The Striker questioned his thoughts. This constant tugging of his power was confusing him. Was this ambiance something to be worried about?

From behind, Grant was pushed forward by an unseen force. When he turned to aim his weapon, the shadows of the Exo loomed over him. "Lead."

Esmond's command was met with a twitch of Grant's brow. "Are you serious!?"

"Go now." the Defender's tone was kept relatively angered and earnest. Grant moaned silently before working the nerve to keep his feet busy with movement.

The tunnel led into the lower bowels of a complex operation, deep down below the old base. The influence of the Hive had reached further than Grant had originally believed. It was interesting to see the power of Hive architecture. Large pillars surrounded hanging ceiling cones, threatening to slip under the right conditions. Steps lead down to a group of patrolling Thralls. They were completely unaware of the danger lurking at the hollow entrance. Grant watched closely to the enemies' movement patterns and begun to coordinate an elimination plan. He took cover and double checked his shotgun, then counted for a couple seconds before peaking up. His jaw dropped; the explosions flashed by as the Defender devoured the lackeys with little effort. His rifle crackled with curiosity to watch their product cripple their targets. Each shout sent shockwaves that shuffled to a dangerous tune. Within the short timing that Grant found it in himself to focus, Esmond had managed to dispatch the foes. Roars and shrieks lead the sudden charge of troops sent to investigate the stings of loud noise. From unseen corners came a few Acolytes with feeble weaponry.

Grant saw no need to help the Defender, but his body automatically rushed to take part in battle. His position was compromised the second he stood out from the small oriental cover. The minions of the dark let loose a parade of lights onto the Striker, who let his shields take the brunt of the attack. Meanwhile, the rapid spewing repetitions of Esmond's machine gun riddled the small space with thunderous declarations. Grant immediately took random shots at those who threatened to touch the indispensable powerhouse and somehow found his way to the back of the monster in mere seconds. The room began to spin in a wide circle as enemies seemed to pour out from all directions, they were attempting to surround them then overwhelm them with brute force but the two guardians were not having that treatment. A lasting testament to endurance was being tested.

Straight carnage littered the room like a foul stench, pretending to pose as the sweet sense of gunpowder and ethereal energy. Grant's radar was frozen in place as the amount of dots continued to fill up the little circle. Interestingly, he found himself unable to hide his excitement and let a wide smile creep up on his lips. They were surrounded but miraculously held their post, only allowing for their enemies to come within seven foot radius. They worked in sync to pick each other up when other began to deter. This teamwork expanded once Esmond released a Ward of Dawn for their own protection. The Hive troops, which now added Knights to the mass, angrily shook their weapons in disgust. The pair took this opportunity to reload once more and observe the circle of undead fighters. They need to push through the group and continue their journey down into the pit but endless waves of the damned were truly trying their patience. Time was against them in this fight but Grant could feel another factor combating the very friction of their delicate operation.

Without warning, Esmond leaped into the crowd, as though he had sensed Grant's growing doubt. Sword Knights mangled their way through the crowd to strike first. Soon, the group had forgotten about the Striker standing in the bubble shield and diverted their forces towards total submersion of the Defender.

Had he fallen to ways of old? No no, he's makin' a statement, to me. Grant watched the Hive swallow up Esmond. His thoughts scrambled when trying to come up with an explanation for the Exo's reckless actions. It was true that his metallic mind and soul were in right place and Grant could agree that there was once a time in which he cared that deeply for another, enough so to throw themselves at any giant if it meant safety for others. A burst of wind propelled the Striker forward into the crowd of hollowed dry bones and black hearts; a fistful of blinding energy directed with an extra payload for assurance. Blue lightning rippled through each and every soldier, creating a linking gain of electricity and painful cries. Like deadly snakes, each stream strangled their victim until they dissipated in the invisible cloud that spawned them. The field cleared instantly with Grant's expanding waves from the Fist of Havoc he had been storing up. Just like that, the room was as empty as it had been, minus the mounds of miscellaneous body parts.

Esmond was down on his knees, one arm place firmly on the ground held him in place. He was enveloped in a veil made up of a purple hues and dark undertones. It seemed as though he conjured up the shield at the last moment for protection once he realized what kind of danger he had carelessly thrown himself into. Grant began speculation on what would had happened if he didn't step in; would the grief stricken Exo have handled the situation differently? Why was it that Esmond was acting so foolishly that he willing would toss himself to his death? Grant's curiosity got the better of him.

"Pitiful. Have you no rational left?" Grant pumped a round into his shotgun behind the Defender. Esmond quickly rose to his feet and said nothing. Seeing as how the Exo made no motion to respond to the questioning, Grant continued. "You're not making this any easier for yourself or me. You want to save Leynna; you gotta drop this idiotic attitude."

"Nothing is wrong." Esmond muttered back. "And I don't need your help."

"And within that lies the destructive factor. You should really spend less time trying to figure out my motives."

"Why!?" Esmond turned to face Grant, obviously annoyed any in an aggressive state.

Grant pulled the shotgun up and aimed for Esmond. The Defender had little time to react as the Striker quickly pushed him out of the way with one hand and fired the gun with the other. The short lived scream of a Thrall was indeed cut short once the bullet severed the creature's vital functions. It collapsed in midair as it fell down and landed by the two Titan's feet.

"Because you'll lose sight of what's important. I'm on your side, I want to save Leynna just as much as you do but going at it like this isn't the way to do it." Grant explained.

"Don't lecture me, I know what's important!" Esmond shouted angrily.

"Besides, acting rashly leads to sloppy mistakes and crudely missed critical observations."

"What do you mean."

"Haven't you felt this feeling, like a draining sensation? And did you notice that some of the enemies began to collapse on their own, like they were being robbed of their life?" Grant asked intuitively. Esmond quickly shook his head, instantly denying the words that came out the Striker's mouth.

"Let's keep moving." Esmond brought back out his rifle and instructed Grant to lead once more. The two Titans started up again like an old motor, functioning solely on the most basic of machinery. The conversation was dropped by the sounds of rhythmic chimes far beyond. It was an eerie bitterness that spun the two's imagination as to what waited for them in the inner chambers.

It was time to find out.

-o-0-o-

Following the demonic chanting landed the two Titans to a set of large sliding doors. Esmond's Ghost manifested and began working on a way to break the encryption holding the door shut. Grant's Ghost joined the other in helping to open the door, while the two guardians hovered near.

Grant watched indirectly as a pair of eyes burrowed into him. Esmond was staring him down like prey, ready to pounce when given the perfect chance. It angered Grant that his unpredictable counterpart was attempting to read him. Esmond's anger was clearly reaching its climax; his machine gun was aimed in Grant's general direction, eager to rage if the Striker made one error.

The door suddenly opened itself without the assistance of the Ghost. As the inner workings cranked the mechanisms of the door, the ritualistic screams grew in intensity and raw power. The Hive energy wrapped and tangled itself within the very air, adding on a thick layer of eroded musk on top of a strong draining feel. Grant lifted his head up to listen and to watch as a faint reddish trial weaved its way into a large circular pit. The whole room was overlooking a giant hole made to function like a chimney of sorts. There were more floors with the same circular design going vertically up and down, with each floor having to withstand the flow of energy and putrid horror that was lost to the dark ingenious of the Hive. Walking inside, Grant's radar lit up once more like before when they had been surrounded earlier. Stopping to a closer look showed that Knights and Acolytes were looking down from the above into the pit. The same was true for the cluster of soldiers looking down from Grant's level and the rest glaring down from the levels below. They turned to see the Striker looking back at them in a trance state of amazement.

"Close the door." Grant heard the command but had little time to react. He spun around to see the large door closing with Esmond standing on the other side, possibly grinning in anticipation. Grant raced to escape through the slim opening but the gunplay brought about by the Knights halted his movement.

"Esmond, what have you done!?" Grant shouted furiously. Esmond's stone cold stare was enough of an answer, one that spelled out his intentions. Even as the large door closed, Grant continued his chatter though trying to reach the Defender now was futile. "You would betray me and live up to the Vanguard's doubt? You are a bigger fool than I expected!"

"You cannot be trusted. I'm doing everyone a favor."

"Damn you Esmond! You will answer to this!" The link was ended by Grant's final comment.

From the other side, Esmond listened in as the shrieks of the Hive echoed off the door, followed by the rumbles of weapons discharging. Grant was never to be trusted, especially with the life of someone so divine and powerful. Esmond had played his role quite successfully and in his victory against the Striker, he was now ready to divert his attention on saving the downed Sunsinger. She would surely lose it if she heard of the stunts he pulled here but it would not be so hard to convince her that it was for the better good.

Esmond finally chuckled to himself at the thought. He would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do once this mission was over.

End of Chapter

R&R if you feel compelled to do so or let me just say this; I am looking for two OC's for a future episode or two. I have not established a deadline for submissions and there is no limit to the amount of submissions. Criteria includes Name, Gender, Subclass, and a brief description. Have fun with this and good luck! Goodbye for now...