A/N: my apologies to any Russian linguists if I messed up the Russian in any way, I'm relying on translation programs to get not only the Cyrillic but the English phonetic pronunciations.

Also, trigger warning for the end of the post.

There were questions then, of course. So many questions, most of which swirled in Minerva's mind but were asked by Kalina, or Gen.

Min had sat down in a nearby chair at some point- she wasn't entirely sure when. Likely it was about the same time that Ikora had started to explain to them about the 'Ascendent Realm'.

An extradimensional hellscape, a twisted realm formed by the wills and imaginations of those who ventured into it, ruled- as far as Min could tell- not by physics but by something called Sword Logic. Or was that merely what the Hive believed in, some twisted idea of religion? Min wasn't sure; she was hardly following half of what Ikora and Gen were discussing.

Somehow, she was meant to go into this place. She would have to find this 'Crota', probably hiding in a world born out of his own mad insanity and guarded by a wizard who could kill Guardians with her voice alone. Even if Min managed to get there, to navigate that place, and somehow take down this Deathsinger- she'd then have to somehow wrest Crota's own sword from him and kill him with it.

Why me? she wondered, not for the first time. There were other far more seasoned and talented Guardians. Min was all right- she did pretty decently in the Crucible, and she had enough of an idea of her own self-worth to respect her accomplishments and capabilities for what they were. But 'all right' was a far cry from what she needed to be in order to do all of that. So many others were better suited. Hell, mad as she was, Min felt that even Nara was a far better choice to go into some extradimensional plane and slaughter a Hive God. Eris had survived five years on the moon, surrounded by the Hive. She, even without her Light, was a better choice. Toland absolutely had been a better choice.

So why her? Why was she able to resist the Deathsong when those much more accomplished and knowledgeable than she was were not? Why was she at the center of this dark and confusing hurricane?

She looked up from her seat, watching the others for a moment. Rahool, Ikora, and Gen were deep in animated conversation- the Cryptarch was talking about something to do with paracausality in the Ascendent Realm that was beyond Minerva's ability, at the moment, to absorb.

Kalina and Eris were the only two not actively participating- Kalina was a few feet away with her arms folded, her head half tilted as she listened. She had a look on her face that Min had seen before, an almost adorable thoughtful frustration. Minerva didn't miss the fact that even in her distraction, Kalina had put herself between Minerva and Eris, the latter of which had retreated toward the counter again.

She, too, seemed to be listening to the others, torn between their words and her own thoughts. What those thoughts were, Min could not have guessed at. She looked like a woman on the cusp of a migraine, complete with a hand against the forehead of her cowl.

"Lev, do you know why I can resist the Deathsong?" she asked the Ghost hovering at her shoulder. He turned to look at her.

"I don't," he said, speaking softly. "I really wish I had more answers for you."

"I know you do," she said quietly. She warred with herself briefly, then came to a decision.

"What about my past?" she asked, looking up at Ikora and the others for the first time in several minutes. Rahool still talking about paracausality in the Ascendent Realm, stopped mid-sentence as he, Gen, and Ikora looked at her with surprise. It was almost as if they'd forgotten she was even there.

Kalina and Eris as well looked around, but neither of them had the same expression of surprise. Both, rather, just looked uncomfortable.

"Minerva?" Ikora asked.

"I understood from Saladin that the Vanguard had found something out about my past," Minerva said. "Is that true?"

"It is," she said kindly.

"Min, are you sure you want to know?" Kalina asked.

"I want to know what's behind all this," Min said. "I want to know why…the why behind all of this. Maybe there's a reason in that life, or maybe it's a dead-end. I don't know. But I have no idea where else to look for the answers. If I have to go to this extradimensional reality alone to-"

"Not alone," Kalina said vehemently, but Min kept on as if she hadn't heard it.

"-face that Deathsong again and kill this Crota, I'd at least like to know why, if that's at all possible."

Ikora measured her silently for a moment before she exchanged a look with Rahool. The Cryptarch turned wordlessly back to the counter and shifted a few more books, taking out a small case and bringing it over to Minerva.

She got to her feet as he drew near and held it out. For a long while Minerva just looked at it, before she finally reached out and took it.

The case had clearly seen better days. Most of it was made of metal, badly dented and tarnished. It looked like it may have been through a fire at one point as well. Originally, it seemed to have been hinged at the back and kept closed with a front clasp, but the clasp had broken and was missing, and one of the hinges had lost its pin.

The top of the box also had been engraved. Time had worn this engraving down to a mere ghost of itself, but as she shifted the box a little and it caught the light, she could just make out the Cyrillic letters.

частный первый класс Минерва Анасова

"Chasné Pervée Klas, Minerva Anasova," she said aloud, and heard Lev reply in her own voice to the others: "Private First Class, Minerva Anasova."

Somewhere in her head, though the man was not present, Min could hear Cayde give a bark of victory.

I knew she was military!

As if to fill the silence as she regarded the etching on the box, Rahool began to speak.

"This was found in an area that was called 'Letnee Place' during the Golden Age, or 'Novomoskovsk' PT. The area was levelled during the Collapse, and…are you all right, Titan?"

Min's eyes refocused, looking up at Rahool. "Hmm?"

"You were humming a song," he said.

Had she been? Yes. She had been. The moment he had said 'Letnee Place' a tune had popped into her head, a soft and airy song that she recognized and yet could not place or name.

"You said it was levelled?" she asked.

"Yes, it was destroyed during the Collapse, we're not entirely sure as to the cause. About sixty years ago this box was found among the ruins. It was brought back by the Guardian who found it and has been sitting on someone's mantle in the City- apparently the Guardian gave it as a gift rather than having it logged in the Archives, or we would have found it almost immediately. We're currently researching other information in the Archives that came from the same area."

Kalina had moved over so quietly that she almost seemed to appear at Minerva's shoulder. Min felt the Hunter's hand on the small of her back as she, too, looked at the box. The connection seemed to bolster her confidence a little, and she carefully eased the battered lid open.

Other than that airy song when she'd heard the name of the place in which the box had been found, Min had felt no recognition of the box itself. When she opened it, however, there was a small jolt in her stomach, and for a moment she was seeing the contents as they had been when they were brand new.

The box gleamed in the morning light as she carefully lifted the lid. Displayed on deep black velvet, the gold and onyx medal reflected the sunlight into her eyes with a flash. Nastya laughed. "I do hope you like it. It shouldn't be buried in your sock drawer. What you did was a great thing, Minerva."

"It was a failure," Minerva replied, gently closing the box again.

"What was a failure, Min?" Kalina asked in almost a whisper, and Minerva realized that she had spoken out loud the same words she'd said in that far away time. Looking into the box now, the black velvet was long since gone. Someone, possibly whomever had displayed it on their mantle, had replaced it with a patched piece of denim. The black and gray ribbon of the medal, like the velvet, had long since gone. The medal itself looked as scratched and battered as the box did, though it did seem as though an effort had been made to clean it up and give it a polish. She closed the rusty box and, almost as gingerly as if she were passing a sickly newborn into his keeping, she handed it back to Rahool.

"Give it back to whoever had it on their mantle," she said. Her hands were getting cold again, her entire body. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest, feel the pressure beginning there in a burning ache. She didn't dare look over at Eris. She feared if she did, she wouldn't be able to breathe again.

Then, she wasn't sure that would matter in a minute or two, as she felt the panic attack slowly closing her in its vice.

"Min?" Lev asked worriedly, noting that her pulse was starting to rise.

Just stay calm. You're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you here, she told herself, but it wasn't working. The cold was sinking into her bones, her airway felt narrowed to a thread.

If I breathe, I die. If I breathe, I die.

"Mini?" Kalina sounds as worried as Lev, darting a glance around to Gen who started their way.

"Guardian, are you all right?" Ikora said, but she sounded very far away. They were all starting to sound very far away.

As calmly and with as much dignity as she could manage, Min turned and walked to the door of the Archive.

I will not run. I will not run.

And she didn't. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Numbly, distantly, now fully holding her breath, she opened the door and stepped through. Her eyes were blurring, her movements stiff as she felt encased in ice. Distantly, although they had to be immediately behind her, she heard Gen and Kalina slam out through the door.

"Minerva!"

Kalina, don't look.

Min couldn't speak. To speak would mean to breathe, and if she took a breath, she would die. So, she willed those words as hard as she was able, hoping that somehow, Kalina would hear them and understand.

"Min, you need to breathe," Lev said, his voice an underwater drone that Min didn't even register. "You're all right, you won't die if you breathe!"

Gen would be fine. Gen wouldn't turn a lash, but Minerva didn't want to do this in front of Kalina.

Don't look. Please, Kal. Just don't look.

Of course, Kalina did not turn away, gently catching hold of Minerva's arm from a warm and lively place a billion miles away from the cold hell the Titan was in.

Min had no choice, if she didn't do this fast, she didn't know if she would be able to.

Kalina, look away!

She was still wearing the new armor that Lev had put on her before leaving Felwinter, sans helmet. Most of her weapons were still digitally carried by Lev but she had the habit of keeping a pistol at her belt even when she wasn't in the field. A habit she had probably picked up in the military, just as she had her habit of calling those with any authority around her 'sir'. She couldn't say so for certain though; she didn't remember.

Gen said that they do it to see visions. I guess when some of them die, they get visions of their past lives.

She didn't remember. She didn't want to remember.

I need to remember.

If I breathe, I die!

Her lungs were aching, her eyes burning madly, her body so painfully cold.

Kalina, don't look!

Her hand found the pistol at her belt and as she drew it, Kalina noticed the motion and looked down at her hand in worried confusion. Then, fast as a viper, Gen grabbed hold of the Hunter and gave her a firm yank. Taken off guard, Kalina stumbled a little and half turned, gaping at Gen.

The warlock's eyes were on Minerva's, understanding.

With the broken motion of a rusted puppet, Minerva lifted the pistol to her temple and pulled the trigger.