Chapter 2: The Card of Death
The flight back to the Tower seems to take an eternity. Minutes seem like hours. Hours seem like days. You wish it could go slower, if only to stave off the inevitable.
You sit in the cockpit, but do not fly the ship; instead, it is on autopilot. You look out the ship's viewport, but do not see the stars; instead, you only see death.
Outwardly, you seem indifferent, like always. Other Guardians, even your closest friends, say it's like talking to a brick wall when they speak to you. The latter know better, but they still feel uncomfortable sometimes.
Inwardly is another story. Your mind is in denial, your emotions are in shambles. Through your neural link with Ghost, you can tell they are the same. They haven't moved from their spot on your shoulder ever since the two of you took off to return to the Tower, which is entirely unlike them. They should be twirling around in the air around you, making little clicks and whirls with their shell as they perform calculations beyond your comprehension, but like you, they do nothing. Your Light fluctuates, pulsing and arcing around your body in an erratic manner, reflecting your inner turmoil.
The reason for your current state rests in the back, covered by a shroud. 'Reef-made' Petra would always say proudly, like whenever you found a weapon or some item of Awoken origins and returned it to her. But this time, though the words are the same, the emotions behind them are different. Instead of pride there is bitterness and anger. You feel the same. You know the Tower will feel the same.
The ship pitches forward as it breaks out of the warp jump. You have always hated the feeling, but at this particular moment it feels like you stomach is going to fly out of your mouth.
Another ten minutes pass before you see the Tower. A pit in your stomach begins to form. What are you going to tell the remaining Vanguard, you realize. Panic now settles in as well and for the first time in a long while your Ghost finally moves from their spot to look at you with worry.
"Guardian?" They ask. You do not answer. You fear what will come out of your mouth should you respond. Ghost reads your thoughts, and dread settles in their nonexistent stomach as they realize what you do.
It is another ten minutes before you make it to the landing bay. By this time you feel like vomiting, but through sheer will you force it down. You must stay strong for now. Mourning can come later. Then, so can vengeance. The last thought seems to settle your stomach a bit.
It terrifies you.
As you transmit out of the ship you order Ghost to keep it where it is, to turn it around and open it's hatch so you can retrieve the body. Other Guardian's look at you curiously as you sprint towards Zavala. Fortunately the Vanguard Commander is unoccupied by other business so getting his attention isn't a too much of a hassle.
He looks at you in curiosity, seeing you with your hands on your knees, breathless as if you had just sprinted a marathon. "Guardian? What seems to be the matter?" he asks. "You were at the Prison of Elders a few hours ago."
You speak one word, and immediately he stands at attention.
"What happened?"
Instead of responding, you drag him to your ship, which is still hovering at the landing bay. Surprisingly he doesn't resist. To your left you can hear some commotion as Ikora Rey comes bursting through, Guardians quickly getting out of her way as she comes to meet you and Zavala. It was your Ghost who contacted her.
"What is the meaning of this, Guardian? Why have you brought us together?" There is no hostility in her voice, but the way she delivers her words along with her tone seems to say otherwise.
By this time a crowd has gathered around the three of you, Guardians and non-Guardians alike. You can see Lord Saladin and Lord Shaxx, the two Titans stopping their arguing in favor for sating their curiosity at why there was such a large gathering. You can see Amanda running towards the crowd, no doubt having heard of what was going on and wanting to take a look for herself
Wordlessly, you step into your ship and head for the cargo bay. Off to the side, laying on a makeshift cot you made, is your package. With tenderness you carefully remove the shroud from the body and fold it up, tucking it into cold, unfeeling arms. Then you gently lift it from the cot and make your way back outside.
The crowd's reaction is delayed. For a brief six seconds, no one speaks a word. Even the ever present breeze seems to have gone still.
Then the screams and cries of shock and denial come crashing down upon you. The unbreakable aura around the Titans seems to have shattered like glass. The Light of the Warlocks fluctuate as they try to reign in their emotions to no avail. The free and wild spirit of the Hunters die as they just turn tail and run, not looking back even once. Ikora falls to her knees, mumbling "no, no, no," over and over. Zavala can only close his eyes and look away in anguish as a single crystalline tear rolls down his cheek.
Ghost comes to your side as you lay the body of Cayde-6 before the now broken Vanguard.
"In the end," they say to them, "there was only one thing he wanted to tell you."
It was a short line. Nine words, ten syllables, thirty three letters. Yet that one line was what truly drove home the harsh reality of the situation, and broke them even more as a result.
"The Vanguard was the best bet I ever lost."