Grimoire: Legend - The Black Garden
I am Pujari. These are the visions I have had of the Black Garden.
The Traveler moved across the face of the iron world. It exerted its will on reality, and the planetary dynamo began anew. An atmosphere was revitalized. The sky was closed, allowing life to grow. In so many things, there is symmetry. Do you understand? This is not the beginning but it is the reason.
The Garden grows through time, into the past and the future. The bloody flowers are always blooming.
There are gardeners now. They came into the garden in vessels of bronze and they move through the groves in rivers of thought. The home of the Garden is never fixed, pushed and pulled like flotsam on the currents of a vast sea. This means that whirlpools will draw it close, you see? The iron world had been one such vortex; however, an even greater maelstrom drew it closer.
This is the vision I had when I leapt from the Shores of Time and let myself sink into the sulfurous waters:
I walked beneath the blossoms. The light came from ahead and the shadows of the flowers were words. They said things but I will not write them here.
At the end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a Ghost. I reached out to pluck it and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was Light.
The Ghost said to me: You are a dead thing made by a dead power in the shape of the dead. All you will ever do is kill. You do not belong here. This is a place of new life, of grand possibility, and eternal glory.
The Traveler is life, I said. You are a creature of Darkness. You seek to deceive me.
But I looked behind me, down the long slope where the blossoms tumbled in the warm wind and the great trees wept sap like blood or wine, and I felt doubt.
I then looked ahead even further, beyond where the path ended; there were more flowers, with different shapes. I believe that some of these blossoms were other Guardians, being drained of their Light in perpetuity.
Those glowing streams flowed like water towards the center (that great whirlpool, a punctured wound in our world) where it intermingled with a Black Heart, pulsating with a power that was dark and primordial.
I could not tell whether this Darkness was devouring the Light, or embracing it.
When my Ghost raised me from the sea, there was a thorn-cut in my left hand, and it has not healed since.
xxxx
One month had elapsed since the House of Zeruel had rebelled, and Skolas had proclaimed the rise of the Eliksni Confederation. Fallen activity was on the rise everywhere, and the Vex of the Sol Provocative were reacting harshly to those who trespassed into the Anomalous Zone. As always, the Cabal maintained a steadfast control over their territory, and had only dug deeper into the Moon.
But the Guardians of the City and the Awoken of the Reef were up to answer the call.
xxxx
/Outskirts of Hakone, Old Japan/
Vell Tarlowe yelped, backing away from the swipes of the tiny Israfelim that were swarming through the forests surrounding the Hakone region. The tiny green and orange humanoids, bearing faces of blank bone and hunched shoulders, were unbelievably acrobatic. Armed with shock daggers, the waist-high Fallen were nasty pests to deal with. "Seriously now," he dropped a Suppressor Grenade, which promptly exploded and blinded the pursuing Israfelim, "this is just ridiculous! Why the hell have they gotten so aggressive?!"
Adela, firing her Vestian Dynasty sidearm rapidly, chuckled bitterly at the approaching opposition. "They are bolstered by the other Houses." She wiped a hand through gray hair and over pale blue skin, wiping away sweat. "Case in point-" Her words were briefly punctured by a backwards heel drop onto the face of an approaching Israfelim. "-that Zeruelus!"
The Fallen in question was barking at the Israfim in a guttural tongue, calmly approaching on stubby legs and thin limbs that sliced through trees in the blink of an eye.
"Hang on." He raised a rocket launcher and opened fire.
BOOM.
The projectile smashed into an A.T. Field, blocking all damage, save for a scant bit of residual force that pushed the Zeruelus back by a few inches. "Damn it," said Vell. "At this rate, they're going to breach the Hakone Caldera." A small outpost had been established in the ruins of Hakone, largely staffed by workers from Nerv; their goal was to try and excavate the old site, to reclaim anything of use. Although they had a number of Frames to provide protection, along with a couple members of the Cryptarchy who were well-versed in Hive arcana, the emergence of the House of Israfel had been unexpectedly swift.
"You sound like quite a worrywart," said Adela with a scoff, her violet and black uniform bearing a couple of tears from 'lucky' shock dagger strikes. "The Queen has tasked me with defeating any Fallen I see, and that's what I'll do!"
"-mineminemineminemineminemine-"
The Awoken paused. "What's that sound?"
"-mineminemineMINEMINEMINE-"
The Titan paled, quickly grabbing Adela by the shoulders and pulling her down. "Duck!"
"-MINEMINEMINEMIIIIINE!"
Wei Ning - thundering down the forested slope in a dead sprint - vaulted towards the Zeruelus, her right fist surrounded by orange octagons.
KRAKOW!
The Soulcrusher-empowered Storm Fist broke through the Fallen's A.T. Field, and sheer momentum carried Wei Ning further down the mountainside.
Adela's jaw dropped at the sight of the Striker using the Zeruelus's corpse as an electrified battering ram, plowing through the Israfelim that were still approaching. "By the Queen..."
"And by that, you mean the Queen of Punches?" Vell quickly got to his feet, reloading his Hex Caster ARC auto rifle. "Come on lady, let's get the stragglers before they can regroup!"
xxxx
/Skyshock, the Cosmodrome/
The regional defense array - once connected to distant missile silos all throughout Russia, which had long ago emptied their devastating cargo during the final days of the Collapse - had been ravaged by the Hive during the horde's resurgence over half a year ago. Even now, the derelict Seeder Ship remained a sign of the undying army's taint.
It was from the innards of this defense array that the Fallen had once again emerged: forces from Bardiel, Ramiel, and Zeruel had solidified their control over this portion of the Cosmodrome, breaking the City's uncontested hold - and oh, how brief it had been! - over the ancient spaceport.
BOOM.
A multitude of Walkers were arranged around the Skyshock, firing vociferously upon the Guardians and Awoken that were trying to contain their new incursion.
Romana ducked within a corridor, moments before a Walker's main gun thundered.
BOOM.
The Awoken soldier cursed, fumbling with a new magazine for her sleek Vestian Reign pulse rifle. "Their numbers seem inexhaustible...!"
The Walkers from Ramiel were embedded with Ramielim, which provided additional anti-infantry defense with pinpoint lasers. The Walkers from Bardiel - controlled by hardy Bardielus, bony spikes quivering within blue goop - lobbed tightly bound Bardielim like artillery into their ranks, all with the intent of trying to possess anyone within reach. The Walkers from Zeruel, colored a foreboding mix of black, gray, and orange, also unleashed mines...except instead of bursting with Arc energy, they burst into a shower of metal rods and spikes, impaling everything within their reach.
Romana stepped over the splattered corpse of a dead Ramielim and past the skewered body of one of her comrades; the Awoken had established multiple barricades from which to attack, whilst the front lines were comprised of Titans - mostly Defenders - that tried to soak up as much of the Fallen's attention as possible. She slid along the ground, coming to a stop by a Warlock clad in dirty robes of blue and brown. "Are you out of ammo?"
"Technically, so long as I have Light, I never run out of ammo." The Warlock stoically tossed a Vortex Grenade over the battered barricade, hitting a Bardielus with pinpoint aim. "But in terms of my main weapons? Yes. Yes I am."
Romana handed him a spare ammo block, right before tossing her own grenade - an oblong stick, with a head that pulsed with a purple light - into the ranks of the Fallen. It stuck with a magnetic thunk against the hull of a Zeruel Walker, and then promptly exploded, unleashing a burst of energy that warped and tore at the matter around it. "For so many Fallen to keep coming...this must be the work of that Archon, Aksor."
"The intel reports said that one was from House...Leliel, right?"
"Yes."
"You'd think that Aksor would eventually get tired!"
And that was the thing; even Aksor had limits. There was no way that he could maintain a steady stream of reinforcements like this!
xxxx
/Three Weeks Ago/
/The Prison of Elders/
Nixis looked quietly at the scene before him, before speaking. "Are you done with your reunion? There is much work to do."
"...a moment," growled Aksor. The Lelielix's body flickered with white and black lines, a sign of agitation. Hovering around the Archon Priest were a dozen Lelielim: tiny orbs of black and white which chirped. Four Lelielus - floating geometric figures with no orientation, for they folded into themselves without end or direction; their black and white coloration gave off the appearance of distant constellations - floated above their Archon. "Your Kell's cause may be righteous...but you are not on death's door like my House is. Let us mingle."
Nixis grunted. That was a fair point; standing before him were the last remaining members of House Leliel. None would ever exist again...conventionally, that is. "Will you be able to serve in the capacity that Skolas needs?"
Aksor raised his head, blank face staring directly into the Zeruelix's deathly face. "...do you truly believe that he can do it?"
The Archon Priest of House Zeruel wasn't truly sure. The plan that Skolas had shared...was ambitious. Seemingly impossible, and the stuff of fantasy. And yet it was not his place to question their direction. T'was the Kell's to lead, the Prime's to give life and guidance, and the Archon's to be the bridge between the two. "Once we gain the knowledge and the means...he will have the power to restore your House." He would have the power to restore them all.
"...then yes. With my brethren...I will be able to more effectively and efficiently form pathways through Leliel's Sea. We will only need sufficient ether to do so."
"I will commune with Kaliks Reborn; you shall have your ether."
xxxx
/Skyshock, the Cosmodrome/
"Well, the reality is what it is," murmured the Warlock.
BOOM.
The duo briefly cringed as the corpse of a Titan went flying above them, launched by an explosive salvo from the advancing Walkers. The dead Guardian's Ghost swiftly emerged, scanning the Titan's body diligently before beginning the transference of Light. The sight of the dead rising over and over was something that Romana was still getting used to.
"...uh oh. You might want to cover your ears."
Romana looked curiously at the Warlock, whose gaze was focused upward. "Why...?"
"Because the cavalry's here."
The Awoken soldier glanced up, blinking at the sight of a dark-skinned woman with closely-shaven hair and elaborate robes of purple and red. "Guardians! Soldiers of the Queen! COVER YOUR EYES AND EARS!" With a burst of electricity, the female Warlock was consumed by the Stormtrance. A matrix of glowing orange octagons manifested around her hands, which she aimed straight at the ranks of the Fallen. The Arc storm was siphoned, channeled...and amplified.
Even with her head to ground - eyes shut and ears held tight - Romana's senses were bombarded by thunderous cracks and bright flashes. The smell of ozone was pungent and sharp.
When the white noise began to fade, she slowly rose, gazing over the barricade; the entire front line of the Fallen had been devastated, with over a dozen Walkers reduced to smoldering wrecks. The very soil was rife with molten streaks, formed by fifteen lightning strikes - true bolts of power, as if from a great storm - that had erupted in quick succession.
The source of this unbelievable display slowly floated down, coming to a rest on the other side of Romana. "If those Titans are worth their salt...they'll quickly advance."
Sure enough, the Guardians at the front quickly did, opening fire on the Fallen infantry that had been attacking from behind the front wave of Walkers. Shanks and Servitors began to emerge from within the defense array to bolster their lines.
"...so. Ikora. That's what the Spirit subclass can do for you, huh?" asked the Warlock.
"Indeed."
"...I'll have to sign up for the next session with that Suzuhara kid." The Warlock chuckled, reloading his scout rifle. Slowly rising, he continued, "Well, no time like the pres-"
Voom.
The wire rifle of a Tracer Shank promptly one-shotted the Warlock, who went down without a head.
Romana resisted the urge to blanch, even as the man's Ghost manifested.
Ikora settled for rolling her eyes. "Youth is wasted on the young, it seems."
"...you lot are very odd."
"We have very odd enemies. It comes with the territory."
Fair enough.
In a flash of Light, the male Warlock once more stood, cursing loudly. "Damn it all, it keeps happening-!"
Voom.
Down he went again.
"...I shouldn't want to laugh," said Romana. But by the Queen, how she wanted to.
Ikora lightly smirked, patting her on the shoulder. "Go ahead. Maybe mockery will finally make him learn."
xxxx
/The Anomalous Zone/
Over the skies of North America, various squadrons of jumpships flew, analyzing whatever they could. Composed primarily of Ceres Galliots from the Royal Armada, these scouting missions were accompanied by the occasional Guardian's jumpship, if only for the different perspective. The operational framework and simple logistics involved with living in the Reef meant that the Awoken had a keener grasp of what it meant to have an organized aerial and deep space naval force.
For this one particular squadron, they were accompanied by an NS44 High Water jumpship, keeping in formation beneath the main squadron of Galliots. "Anything of interest?" asked Shiro-4.
"No," replied Petra Venj. "Nothing." She quietly glanced at one of her smaller monitors, showing the landscape far below; the sprawling field of endless metal was foreboding in a way that she couldn't quite describe. "So this is what the Vex are capable of."
"Hard to believe they've been on Earth this whole time."
That was putting it mildly. Currently, the most frenzied activity was occurring on the east and west coasts of North America, where the House of Iruel's holdings were strongest; day after day, the microscopic Fallen launched new waves into the Anomalous Zone, testing themselves against the Vex legions. Oddly enough, the Vex had not deployed their Gaia Minotaurs since Unit-02's initial incursion; perhaps they were of limited supply. Or maybe the Vex deemed the forces of House Iruel insufficiently threatening to justify the use of such resources?
"Tell me; you've had more experience with the House of Zeruel than any other Guardian. Is this sort of behavior typical for these Fallen?"
"...Skolas was a terror during the Reef Wars. Vicious, unrelenting...and yet, that made him predictable. Such is the way with a rabid dog; hence his title of the Rabid."
Shiro-4 huffed. "Sounds pleasant."
"That's why this turn of events is...concerning. All Houses save Tabris, united under his hand...and yet he has not tried to overrun your City with overwhelming numbers. His entire strategy has changed."
"Well, from what I heard, he was in the prisons of the Nine for decades, right? That much time in isolation can change anyone...even a Fallen."
"Fair enough." The further westward they flew, the more overcast the countryside became. The pallid mist that blocked their view seemed...unnatural. "My sensors are losing signal integrity. I can't penetrate it."
"I'll fly in lower, try to boost my deep scanners." The High Water jumpship slowly separated from the group, descending towards the ghastly clouds. "Starting to get something now..."
With frightening speed, the metallic hand of Gaia Minotaur erupted from the clouds, swiping the jumpship hard. An entire wing - broken and shattered - was sent flying, and the vessel began to spiral out of control.
"Damn it! Losing altitude! Mayday, mayday-!" The moment Shiro-4's jumpship fell beneath the mist, his signal vanished.
Petra Venj blinked, bewildered by the sudden violence. Just like that, the Exo was gone. "...damnation."
One of her wingmen quietly asked, "Lady Petra...shall we pursue?"
"...no." Regretful though she may have felt, there was no point delving into the unknown, not when they lacked the vital intelligence needed to actually breach deeper into the Zone. "Make for a northern heading. We need to keep gathering intelligence. And stay away from those clouds."
"Copy."
For the time being, Shiro-4 would be marked as missing-in-action.
xxxx
/Rusted Lands, Old Russia, Eastern Flood Zone/
Long ago, during the Cataclysm and the Collapse, entire countrysides had been so ravaged that the land had sunk, their very foundations crushed by the pressure of greater powers. Russia had been no exception; vast portions of the region once known as Siberia - particularly those near the winding rivers - had been reduced to wetlands, which froze and thawed during the climactic extremes common to the area. The corpses of old towns and cities, reduced to skeletons of rust, dotted the entire area; like parasites that had long bled their host dry, the remnants of ancient Hive Seeders remained.
It was into these areas that Unit-02 now stepped, into the heart of the territory of House Bardiel. But now...they had reinforcements.
"RAAAAAGH!" roared Asuka-3; with a flash of lightning, Unit-02's fists smashed into the ground, unleashing a wave of electricity that vaporized the Fallen all around her. With a synthetic snort, the Exo glared forward, seeing the proverbial legion that still awaited her. "They just keep coming!"
'Well, you did volunteer to dive into enemy territory.'
"Mari."
'Yes?'
"Shut up!"
Unit-02 groaned as large Shamshelus erupted from the hardy soil, tongues lashing out towards the Evangelion's limbs; the serpentine appendages glowed a pale pink, crackling with energy and burning at the Giant's wrists and ankles. Although the pain was irritating, it had the greater function of keeping her pinned.
Walkers, Skiffs, and distant Ketches unleashed a terrible payload upon the Evangelion.
Asuka-3 snarled; her A.T. Field was strong, but the sheer bombardment's force was bleeding through. With a defiant howl, she flexed her arms and swung.
Unit-02's roar shook the Earth, and the two Shamshelus that had bound its arms were lifted into the air, becoming free-flying bludgeons that crushed the nearest Skiffs and Walkers. With its arms freed, the Eva quickly punched the giant serpents that had pinned its legs, pulping their skulls.
"EAT THIS!"
Unit-02 flung the two serpents at the nearest Ketch; the weight of the serpents caused dents in the Bardielship, and it began to list under their weight.
'Okay, it's been ten minutes. Let's go!'
Fine. Asuka-3 snorted, and Unit-02 quickly turned heel and retreated, leaping in great bounds across the landscape.
This had been the pattern for the past month: storm deep into the territory of the Fallen Houses, wreak havoc, and then quickly retreat. Anything to take pressure off of the front lines. Where to next?
'I believe the House of Arael is making advances in the European Dead Zone.'
Feh, I hate those things. They always give me a damn headache.
'I've seen some Guardians that were targeted by Araelim before. Trust me Princess, a headache is getting off LIGHTLY.'
...fair enough.
xxxx
/Yamagishi's Line, Oceanus Procellarum, the Moon/
'Based on what records we have, the development of this accelerator was spearheaded by a Pre-Collapse engineer named Mayumi Yamagishi. Even while the Cataclysm was occurring on Earth, the fledgling colonies on Mercury, Venus, and Mars used accelerators like this one to maintain a steady supply chain.'
"...I see."
'...is something wrong?'
"Just thinking, Peter."
'...your name was a part of you, friend.'
"A part that I forgot. Must not have meant much."
'I...don't think that's how it works.'
"Maybe. But the parts I remember...the 'me' that remains? Those must be the most important things, or else they wouldn't be here."
'...I suppose that's a fair assessment. So...what should I call you?'
He quietly stepped away from the decrepit lunar rover, its old solar panel serving as a mirror of sorts. His blue and gray gear was nothing special, and his dark Journey Hood only went down to the middle of his back. Even so...he felt confident. Assured. "...I suppose my job will do."
'...just Guardian? Nothing else?'
"Is there something wrong with that?"
'It's just...generic.'
"It fits." The Exo Hunter calmly advanced up the ridge, gazing into the small crater below the long accelerator; various Fallen from the Houses of Matarael, Ramiel, and Zeruel were striking at a Cabal encampment. The lines of the massive aliens stretched further back towards the source of the accelerator: a squat and open complex that had long been exposed to the lunar elements. Legionnaires of the Sand Eaters fired with discipline at the lines of the Fallen, even as their position was being peppered by acid, lasers, and shrapnel. "...hard to believe this all used to be ours."
'Maybe one day...it'll be different, Guardian.'
"...you said that there was another Guardian whose signal vanished, right?"
'Yes. They were on a scouting mission, to try and investigate the Cabal's lunar territory. Their Ghost's signal vanished somewhere around here.'
"Then let's find them."
'Those are a lot of enemies...shouldn't we let them wear each other down?'
"Each second is another second our fellow soldier could be in trouble."
'...that doesn't change the fact that there's a lot of enemies.'
"True..."
xxxx
/One Week Ago/
/Sector 618, the Cosmodrome, Old Russia/
A cavernous portion of the Cosmodrome's great Wall had been cordoned off for use by the Crucible. Currently, a six-on-six match was underway, and the mayhem was as constant as always. As per usual, the Redjack frames that monitored every match carried automated subroutines, which activated depending on a Guardian's proximity and performance; the voice of Shaxx would play, communicating his pleasure or lack thereof.
The Guardian's hand cannon barked - taking down a nearby Titan - and he tossed his knife into the distance, wherein it embedded itself into the skull of a Warlock. And that makes ten straight.
"FIIIGHT FOREVEEER, GUARDIAN!"
It took all of his self-control to not destroy the robotic Redjack that had practically shouted in his ear.
xxxx
"...but I've had plenty of practice." He withdrew his recently-acquired hand cannon - a blue-and-orange Palindrome, a hard-won prize from a Crucible Control match - and his dagger. Without hesitation, he charged into the fray.
First flew an Incendiary Grenade, which fell among the ranks of the Cabal. Veering off towards the Fallen that were closer, the Guardian's left fist barreled down onto a Ramielim; with a brief flicker of his A.T. Field, his fist shattered the crystalline creature. As the Fallen quickly turned their attention towards him, his hand cannon fired rapidly. Each bullet was accompanied by a flash of orange; A.T. Field-enhanced bullets blasted into the enemy's weak spots, dealing fatal damage with great precision. A Zeruelim snarled, opening fire with a shrapnel launcher; rolling to the side, the Guardian flung his knife at the Fallen's face, piercing deeply into the skull. The beast wailed as fire began to lick away at it, only for its cries to be cut short by a bullet to the head. A Swarm Grenade was next, shattering against the dusty terrain and seeking the crowded Fallen; it provided just enough time for him to get away and reload.
By this time, the Cabal had finally deemed him worthy of notice; dozens of microrockets from the Legionnaires' slug rifles bombarding his position, kicking up gray rock and rubble.
Not to be deterred by his new foes, the Guardian let the fire roar within him, manifesting into a Golden Gun. As he took aim, a ring of orange octagons rotated wildly around its barrel.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Each shot - bolstered by his spirit, extending his Solar aura even further - was accompanied by a massive explosion, which vaporized many Cabal and Fallen, and sent the others flying. As the explosive clouds of dust scattered amidst the low lunar gravity, the Guardian quietly took in the sight of unmoving foes.
'...well, you certainly haven't changed.'
"I take it that this sort of thing was common?"
(The Evangelions - those fabled war machines that were supposedly mankind's only defense against cataclysmic terrors - were scattered, fighting Ahamkara in distant countries. However, there was a wyrm here - now - and it had seduced an entire throng of Vassals to cause a riot in his hometown. Something had to be done...someone had to act. And so he quietly rose from his chair, looking sternly at the security officials who were guarding the building, and said something very simple: "I need a weapon.")
'...let's just say that you were someone who got things done.'
"Then let's keep that trend going." And thus did the Guardian move on to the next battle.
xxxx
/The Lost Oasis, Valles Marineris, Mars/
Within one of the many canyons that comprised the Mariner Valleys on Mars, Princess Nula Sov quietly analyzed the ancient Vex ruins, nestled amidst flora that was both living and petrified. Far in the distance, floating constructs - seemingly incomplete, or broken - crackled with Arc storms. "...hmm."
Aria Yamine quietly kept a hand on her pulse rifle, keeping an eye open for any potential threats. "...odd. For there to be no Vex or Cabal presence here."
"...hmm."
"...you are known as the Mistress of Secrets, correct? Perhaps you have a guess?"
"...this place could support three separate ecosystems. This place is comprised of the same location, pulled from different junctures of spacetime...as to the particular motivation...I am unsure." Ostensible small talk, between an Awoken Guardian and an Awoken of the Reef. Simple, and nothing to be concerned with.
A mere facade, since they - along with Aria's Ghost - were iterations of the same soul, and could commune their thoughts with ease. But appearances were still necessary, even away from the Vanguard and the rest of the Royal Family. This place...it bears familiar marks.
"A testing ground. A place to apply what has been learned. Layered with subtle filters, to render it as a place without worth in the eyes of the Cabal. Left empty of Vex, to not attract undue attention."
And far enough away that it wouldn't result in any negative feedback loops, or chronospatial interference.
"You can feel it: the change, and the difference."
Yes. Within a week's time, this place would probably look even more chaotic and jumbled, as different portions of time and space were patched and bridged. The changes echoed across the fabric of existence...and the source was millions upon millions of miles away. An isolated outpost, in which the Vex can experiment, and measure the effects of the Vault of Glass.
"We must be swift about finding the Vault. If this is how swiftly Atheon is progressing...then how long will it be until we start seeing the likes of Oracles? Or Gorgons?"
That would not do.
A throaty gasp of pleasure broke her internal conversation; the Princess turned, seeing her erstwhile father approach. He was drinking heavily from a canteen marked with various stickers and postage stamps. "Fresh Martian water: brisk and embracing!" He held it out towards her, an offer to drink.
"No thank you. I am fine." A brief pause. "Besides, I do not have a Ghost to revive me if the local water is...disagreeable."
"Oh well, your loss." Fenchurch took another swig. "Well, I think we've been here for quite long a while! Ready to continue our tour?"
"...a little while longer. I am still trying to figure some things out." Perhaps if she focused hard enough, she could triangulate the source of the echoes with her other iterations on Earth, and potentially triangulate the Vault's source?
"Suit yourself, my dear!" He turned on his heel and started heading back towards the oasis on the other side of the Vex ruins, talking to himself about whether a woman named 'Tess' would be able to market Martian water.
"...he is quite rambunctious," remarked Aria.
Nula Sov's lips quirked into a small smile. "His idiosyncrasies are a reminder of why we're doing this. Much like that mission to reclaim SIVA was a reminder to you." She looked up, staring into eyes as red as her own. Working alongside Ikari-kun was...difficult, wasn't it?
Aria narrowed her eyes, and her thoughts were clear: I would never threaten our work to indulge in such brief pleasure.
Nula's eyes glittered with brief amusement. No matter how much you wanted to?
Aria glared: Of course. I wouldn't dare.
"As well you shouldn't...after all, all of this is for his benefit."
Indeed. The Mistress of Secrets turned her gaze back towards an incomplete Vex gate, letting her fanciful thoughts float idly in the meanwhile. The humanity that Ikari-kun fought so hard and so thanklessly for...everything we've worked for, everything we've yet to do...is to ensure their survival. No matter what the cost may be.
"And so it must be."
xxxx
/Vanguard Headquarters, the Tower/
Cayde-6 tapped the table wearily, looking grimly at the whole theater of conflict occurring throughout the Inner Planets; on each planet's projected image, every glowing dot represented an ongoing conflict with Fallen. Unsurprisingly, Earth was the most colorful, with various dots clustered throughout Asia, Europe, and Africa; there were a smattering around the Americas, and even fewer on the Moon, Venus, and Mars. Every battle meant at least one Guardian, fighting against the enemies of the City.
Oh, how he wanted to be out there.
"The House of Zeruel is certainly...aggressive, in their tactics," said Osiris, looking quietly at the sites of battle. "I find it interesting that such disparate Houses have willingly allied themselves to Skolas's banner, especially when their own leadership is still intact."
"Harsh reality," answered Saint-14. "The leadership of Ramiel was completely gutted; only the Kell of Bardiel remains; and Matarael has only the Prime Servitor remaining out of their original triad; I wouldn't be surprised if the Kell of Zeruel convinced the other Houses that, eventually, they would also lose a war of attrition against the City."
"...I doubt that it's that simple." The Vanguard Commander peered intently at footage from the Ironlands, showing Lady Katsuragi cleaving a Zeruelus in half with her Battle Axe. "These attacks...are frenzied, and rampant. No opposing force can keep up this pace. Not at these numbers. There's an underlying motive...a goal. But what could it be...?"
"You know, we do a lot of talking. Maybe we could be classical, act like generals on the frontlines. That used to be a thing, right?" Osiris and Saint-14 both turned towards him; he could already tell that the expression on their faces was of the 'oh Traveler, he's talking again' variety. "Maybe we could all go out, and actually do something."
"We are doing something," retorted Saint-14. "We have a big picture view of everything that the Guardians do; with every new piece of data that comes in, we can more effectively coordinate our military strategy." He briefly paused, and then kept on going. "Cayde. I know you miss field work...but if you didn't want the job, then you shouldn't have taken the Vanguard Dare."
"...s'not my fault that Andal died."
"Nor that you're a compulsive gambler?" wryly said Osiris.
"...okay, that one I won't deny." He liked gambling! It was all part of the thrill that was dealing with the unknown!
Osiris sighed wearily. "Cayde, I'm sure there are at least some Hunters of good reputation who wouldn't mind taking the position."
"If I were still capable of drinking, I'd be doing a spit-take right now," groused Cayde-6. "Hunters hate standing around in one place for too long." He huffed, glancing back at the ongoing theater of operations...and paused, noting a high-priority data feed coming from the Moon. Huh. It's from the new guy. He idly opened it up...and paused at the image that manifested: a Ketch with very familiar colors, hovering over a Hive structure of some sort. Heh...I knew there was something about that rookie. "Looks like Taniks, the Scarred has been sighted in the open again..." He glanced knowingly towards Osiris. "I'm going."
Saint-14 snorted. "Honestly Cayde, we just had this discussion."
"Very well."
The Titan Vanguard whirled towards his Warlock counterpart. "...what? But-!"
"Try not to die," remarked Osiris, cutting off Saint-14's objection. "Replacing you at this juncture would be...inconvenient."
The Exo Hunter chuckled. "Dying ain't on the schedule, I'm afraid." How else would he be able to enjoy the sweet taste of revenge?
xxxx
Grimoire: The Vanguard Dare
"I regret all the bets I lose. But very few of them actually hurt."
It was an odd thing to review his internal diagnostics and see a '6' instead of a '5'. Apparently, Andal had been a closer friend than he had thought.
"My condolences for your loss," assuaged the Vanguard Commander. "If you need some additional time to grieve, I understand the need."
Cayde-6 looked up towards the enigmatic Warlock. Osiris had always given him an odd feeling. Probably why he always tried to con or swindle Andal into meeting outside the Tower, whenever he had felt the need to bug the bearded jokester. "Nah. I'm not much for moping. Doesn't really accomplish much." There was one thing, though, that was burning within him. It was hot and raw, like a welding torch, this need to know what had happened. He briefly wondered if this is what curiosity felt like for Warlocks. Would definitely explain a few things. "What happened." It was not a question, or a request: it was a simple demand.
Osiris, thankfully, obliged him. "A report came in from a Hunter out in the Old Norden, about an impending Fallen attack on a major settlement. Leinonen."
The Old Norden: what remained of the Nordic countries following the Collapse. A good chunk of its western portions fell within the European Dead Zone, dominated by the House of Arael. The areas that did not...well, it was a hard life. But it made for a hardy people; Andal had been a testament to that. "Couldn't leave his hometown hanging, I take it."
"Got into his jumpship and took off without telling me or Saint-13. When I found out, Lady Katsuragi and Asuka-2 offered to go investigate. They found a ruined town, two crushed Ghosts, the corpses of two Hunters, and a slew of dead Fallen that we had never seen before. It was only after additional research that we determined that they were of the House called Sachiel."
Sachiel. Yet another odd name he'd have to memorize. "Who did it."
"A Sachielix named Taniks. Judging by the words of the Awoken who have left the Reef, his reputation as a freelance Fallen pirate is notorious. He bears the title of 'the Scarred'."
"...so why Leinonen? It had nothing of value, other than people."
"I can only speculate. But from what the fragments of the Ghosts revealed...I would say it was done for 'personal amusement'."
"...I see." This is why he hated the Vanguard Dare. Sure, somebody had to be a role model for Hunters...okay, maybe not a role model; that would be how Zavala would describe it. 'Relatively stabilizing influence' was probably more in line with what ol' Saint-13 would say. Then again, now that he thought about it...the Dare said nothing about there being additional terms. "I'll be the Hunter Vanguard. But on one condition."
Osiris arched an eyebrow.
"If we ever get a bead on this Taniks...I'm going after him."
It was the least he could do, to get back at Andal for making him take the Vanguard Dare. Bastard wasn't even around to collect his winnings from their bet...no offense, Andal.
That would normally be the point where Andal would mockingly play it up, and then provide a pithy, yet humorous gag; everlasting silence - never to be broken again by his wild stories, told with a slight slur after one too many shots of vodka - made for a horrible punchline.
...this job already sucked.