And when we fall we will fall together
No one will catch us so we'll catch ourselves
And where we roam we will roam forever
No one will understand what we meant
We Will Fall Together – Streetlight Manifesto
July 17, 2957, 13:40 (Tower Time); The Waking Ruins, Ishtar Sink, Venus
There were no clouds over the Waking Ruins.
Azra transmatted straight there from orbit, worried about Vex incursions, but she found the Ruins quiet. Praedyth had not been lying about the gorgeous night. Venus had no moon to wash out the sky; the constellations were vivid and brilliant, hundreds of thousands of gems studding the deep blackness of space. The Milky Way stretched from one horizon to the other in a gleaming arc. The air was warm but not muggy. A gentle breeze ebbed over the stone and through the trees.
Azra was caught in awe for a moment, forgetting herself. The stars lit everything in an ethereal glow, bringing out a subtle iridescence in the Vex stone and re-casting the greenery and bronze architecture in silver tones. The plants seemed to bend and whisper rumors to each other in the soft wind. The air smelled of resting vegetation and fresh water. And everywhere the Light sang, shining in the stars and murmuring in the breeze, in the leaves rustling against each other and in the silent, steady basalt beneath her feet. The Waking Ruins had seen so much violence and bloodshed, but right now they seemed almost sacred. Peace as deep as the ocean had settled here. It was as if the whole world was asleep, with only Azra awake to wonder at its hidden mysteries.
She walked forward through the Ruins, feet silent and careful over the broken rock. The Vault before her was dead, inactive. The Vex architecture was inert. There were no Jumpships overhead, no Sparrows in the trees, no gunfire echoing in from the Citadel or the Shattered Coast. With the quiet, Azra's attention was quickly drawn to a hissing noise at the edge of her hearing.
There, under an overhang by a Vex plate, there was a flicker of blue and orange. The wind shifted slightly, bringing the sound of boiling water and the smell of starch. Azra took a few more cautious steps, and there he was. He was barely illuminated by the camp stove, just enough for Azra to make the shape of him: the threadbare armor, the lanky frame, the dark skin.
Azra had rushed to the Vault, fearful that Praedyth would be killed by the Vex. Only now, in the serenity of this magical Venusian night, with Praedyth right in front of her, did she stop to think.
The immediate question: why was he here now? It was all too coincidental. It had been seven years since Atheon had died and nothing had changed since then, at least not according to the Vex. There were no large movements in the Network here. Praedyth had at the very least several hundred (and at the most several billion) years where he could have landed. And he appeared now, almost on the day and the hour the Traveler woke up?
Your timing was coincidental, too, Spark pointed out. Right as Veera destroyed the Heart of the Black Garden. Maybe big Paracausal events just glitch out the Vault?
Then why not the Collapse? Azra asked. Why not when we killed Oryx and set his power free? Why not some big event that hasn't happened yet? Why now?
Asking it that way, the answer came naturally. It simultaneously struck Azra dumb and made her want to laugh.
Because you wanted someone to understand. You wanted a better future to be possible. You wanted your sacrifices to mean something. It was kind of obvious, looking back on it now. Praedyth had always been a lose end that bothered her. She'd done everything she could have for him, but she'd never known if it had been enough.
Now? It had been enough. Because she would have asked.
The figure shuffled a bit, pulling her back to the present. It seemed she'd been spotted. "Hello?" the Warlock called softly, unsure. His voice was scratchier than she remembered, but it was still his.
Spark rifled through his storage and produced a camp lantern. Azra flipped the switch and held it up as it flickered on. Its pale illumination cast a sphere of visibility around her, bringing nearby objects into sharp relief but obscuring everything else in shadow. Azra took the last few steps, bringing Praedyth and his little campsite into the circle of light.
He blinked owlishly at the lantern, caught in an awkward pose. He'd half-risen from his resting spot on a stone block. A shelf in front of him held a stove and a steaming pot of something. Praedyth was covered in familiar shades of Vault muck, graying the once-brilliant orange of his robes, ground deep into his hair, flaking off of his face even now as his lips parted in a wide grin.
He settled back onto his seat. "Azra Jax. You are a sight for sore eyes." He seemed to double-take and looked her over again. "Though I must say you have seen better days."
Azra looked down at herself and grimaced. She wasn't exactly the picture of cleanliness herself. She had City dirt and Cabal soot staining her skin. Her cape was torn. Her armor had taken quite a lot of abuse. "It's been a crazy few months," she replied, feeling the ache of exhaustion acutely.
"Well, come, sit," Praedyth urged, gesturing to a nearby rock. "I'm simply glad you're still alive."
Azra sat, leaving the lantern resting next to the stove. "It's quite the night," she offered.
Praedyth nodded. "I've never seen the Ruins free from the clouds like this."
"On the day we went in," Azra reminisced. "That first day. It was sunny, then." She shifted, trying to find a comfortable position on her seat. "Have you seen much Vex activity?" She'd been so worried she'd roll up to find a corpse riddled with laser burns.
"None," Praedyth reported. "Though I do admit, I am eager to return to the City. This is still hostile territory, isn't it?"
Azra sucked air between her teeth. "Yeah, it is… but the City isn't much safer than here at the moment."
"The City?" Praedyth looked horrified. "It fell," he said with the conviction of someone who had seen the future but hadn't believed it until now.
Azra shifted her weight again. "Like I said, it's been a crazy few months. Don't worry, we took it back- not half a day ago, mind you. It's just still being cleared out of Cabal. And all the structural damage…"
"Sounds like quite the story," Praedyth said apprehensively.
Oh, of course. Here he was six decades out of date and she was chatting about the weather.
"I don't know what news to break first," Azra said. "It's been sixty-four years now since we went in. About seven since I escaped. You don't have to worry about Atheon- it's dead. Real dead. I come back and check sometimes, but we made damn sure that it's gone for good."
"You survived your fight, as is evident," Praedyth said. "And Kabr…"
"Not alive, exactly, but not gone." Azra said. "His death is tied to the Vault's breaking. We can't touch it."
"And Pahanin?"
The three of them had been close- Kabr, Praedyth, and Pahanin. They'd been a fireteam as long as Azra could remember. "Pahanin's dead," Azra said as kindly as she could. "I'm sorry." It had been hard for Azra to accept Andal's death, Jaren's, the dozens of other friends that had gone while she had been trapped. She hoped Praedyth still had some people left.
"He died. In the Vault?" Praedyth asked. He didn't seem too shocked, only sad.
Azra shook her head. "No, he escaped. He died afterwards. A lot of people have died since we went in." Even more now, with the Red War. Azra had no idea where to begin, what mutual friends they had shared, famous figures he might have known personally.
Praedyth was steely-eyed with curiosity, still. "What of ꚉ●↨ ◌and ▪꙳⌂□↨₪↨ꚉ₪-11011?"
Something… something happened. Azra couldn't think straight. There were gaping holes in her memory, in logic itself. Slowly, they gelled, began to fill in, but it was too late. She should have moved ◊ ○҉₪ỽ◊ ago.
Seconds. If she had been a few seconds quicker, she could have vaulted the Vex soldiers and made for Kabr. Now the air was filled with laser fire. She had no real reason for why she hadn't made a break for it, and no time to contemplate where the seconds had gone.
"Azra?"
Azra groaned in response. She was hunched over her knees. Her head was splitting with pain. A hand touched her arm and she startled.
Praedyth was concerned. "I'm sorry, what happened?"
"You gave me a migraine is what happened," Azra complained. She massaged her temples. At least the headache was fading already.
"How?" he asked. "I just asked-"
"Those people," Azra interrupted, "they don't exist."
"ꚉ●↨ ◌?"
Azra winced as a wave of nausea rolled over her. "Yes, whoever that is… was. But wasn't. I can't remember them. You're making me try."
Praedyth looked at her like she was crazy. (Maybe she was crazy? Maybe he was?) "It's like a hole in my brain," she said. "I can only think around it." She straightened herself and shook her head.
"Fireteams of six were standard. I would have guessed we would bring six. It would have made sense. But we didn't bring six. We brought four."
"We brought six," Praedyth argued. "But those two, they…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "The Ritual of Negation…"
"Pruned. Like branches cut away from the vine and left to wither," Azra muttered. "The Vex can try to rip everything apart but they can't have it make sense. They were both Warlocks, weren't they? I didn't think once and I said that we brought three Warlocks into the Vault."
"Yes," Praedyth said. "A Stormcaller and a Sunsinger. ꚉ●↨ ◌and ▪꙳⌂□↨₪↨ꚉ₪."
"Please," Azra pleaded. "It's like you're blasting radio static into my brain."
"There were others that went into the Vault before us," Praedyth said. His voice was low in horror. "You don't remember them, either?"
"We… we were the first ones to try," Azra said. "But… we weren't, were we?"
Praedyth stood and began pacing. "I couldn't remember them before, but I can now. I hadn't even thought of them. Why now? What's changed?"
"The pot is boiling over," Spark interjected helpfully. It was indeed- Azra hastily grabbed it off of the heat, while Praedyth fumbled to turn off the stove. It gave everyone a second to collect themselves. Azra cracked the lid of the pot and peered inside curiously. It was Instant Ramen. Praedyth produced the seasoning packet and stirred it in with shaking hands.
"I… maybe we should sit back and take stock of the situation," the Warlock said.
"Ha," Azra replied. "Stock."
Praedyth looked at her, then at the soup in his hands, then back at her. Then he laughed, sounding surprised at himself, like he wasn't sure laughing was something he could still do. "You haven't changed," he said. "Still with the horrible jokes."
"I've changed a lot," Azra said. "But not all in bad ways, I think."
"Your Cayde-6 left me several days' worth of this stuff," Praedyth said. "Would you like some? Since we are apparently in no rush."
Azra's stomach growled before she could even try to demur. The last time she'd eaten… well, she'd had an energy bar after disabling the Almighty, but oatmeal breakfast had been the last hot food she'd seen. It felt like a lifetime ago.
"Sure," she said gratefully. Spark pulled an old enamel mug from his storage and the Warlock filled it with Ramen. Azra cupped her hands around the cup and enjoyed the warmth for a moment.
Praedyth settled down and took a bite of his noodles, closing his eyes as he savored the sensation of eating. It wasn't like there was human food just sitting around in the Vault. Azra felt for him.
The Warlock swallowed, let out a contented sigh, and murmured something to himself. Then he opened his eyes and fixed Azra with a fiery stare, leaning forward on his knees. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"
So Azra started from the beginning. The real beginning, at least for her.
She spoke of the first time she'd died, that first bit of unremembered déjà vu. Of Arcstriding in a time of Bladedancers. Osiris and his theories (and his antagonism). The Vault: the sickening apprehension that clung to her that day, the moment when the Oracles had cut away one third of their fireteam; running, desperately. Falling. Dying. Living again, but differently.
The stars performed their slow, stately pinwheel in the sky. And Azra talked about the Vault, about time, linear and not, the endless despair, the determination, the loneliness. Tracking her way through space and time to find the impossible moment (or two of them) when the Vault was open. She spoke of her recovery. Of Fireteam Dauntless's raid on the Vault. What it felt like for Atheon's will to shatter beneath the hard point of her own. Breaking fate with the Aegis.
But mostly, she spoke of recent events. Her confusion in the Cradle. Veera's theories on it all, and her own less optimistic ones. How in desperation, she'd tried what should have been impossible and found that it wasn't. What it felt like to Step through space. Of fighting Ghaul, of breaking the Traveler's cage. Of her odd vision.
And when it was all done, she sat and caught her breath and waited while the gears turned in Praedyth's brain.
TYPE: LIVE COMBAT FEED
PARTIES: Three [3]. One [1] Guardian-type, Class Warlock, designate Praedyth [p]; One [1] Guardian-type, Class Hunter, designate Azra Jax [aj]; One [1] Ghost-type, designate Spark [s]
ASSOCIATIONS: Atheon; Ishtar Sink [Venus]; Jax, Azra; Kabr; Last City [Earth]; Osiris; Red War; Pahanin; Praedyth; Vault of Glass [Venus]; Vex
/AUDIO UNAVAILABLE/
/TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS.../
[p:01]: Why are you looking at me as if I might bite off your head?
[aj:01]: I think you, out of everyone, can understand how serious this is.
[p:02]: What are you so afraid of?
[aj:02]: Losing my way? Losing myself?
[p:03]: If this anomaly has always been present with you, then there is no fixing it.
[aj:03]: I'm scared it will get worse
[p:04]: It already has been worse. For you, at least.
[aj:04]: Hm.
[p:05]: You forget, my perspective is different than your own. Not four hours ago you were a pathetic, dirty scrap of humanity.
[aj:05]: Still human, still dirty.
[p:06]: But pathetic no longer. You have been much, much lower than this. And yet here you are, and here you will be.
[p:07]: Less you need be reminded, you have just saved the City?
[aj:06]: Not alone.
[p:08]: And you are not alone in this, either. If you're doomed to fall to Darkness, then what am I? You still have your Ghost, at least.
[s:01]: I'm sorry. It's…
[aj:07]: I don't know what I would do if I lost Spark. It must be terrible.
[p:09]: I am still alive. That's all she wanted, in the end. We do what we can with the time we are given. Ghosts included.
[s:02]: What was her name?
[p:10]: Anapurna.
[aj:08]: Pretty.
[p:11]: She was indeed.
[aj:09]: I… I don't know what to tell you. Future's full of heartbreak. So many people are gone, Praedyth.
[p:12]: Some still remain. And new friends rise to take their place.
[aj:10]: The Vanguard Net is back up. I'm sure you'll want to check-
[p:13]: Azra.
[aj:11]: Or we could head back to the City, I'm sure there are people there who knew you-
[p:14]: Azra Jax.
[aj:12]: And-
[p:15]: It's going to be okay.
[silence]
[p:16]: It's important that you know this.
[aj:13]: It's so hard to believe that. I don't know why.
[p:17]: You have crawled out of hell, from deeper pits than even I could imagine. I don't know where the future will take you, but there are precious few places that you cannot find your way back from.
[p:18]: You destroyed the Vault of Glass, you have raided the Vex Network, you know our enemy well. Ignorance was our real weakness- we had no idea what we were walking into, that day we first challenged the Vault.
[p:19]: But you survived and you learned, and now it is dead. You have dealt heavy blows to the Collective, ones they have trouble even processing.
[p:20]: Osiris thought you were their tool? I would name you Vexbane. I have no doubt in the future you will be the lynchpin to end more machinations. I have seen it.
[aj:14]: You're no wimp either. I would have gone crazy sitting in that cell all by myself.
[p:21]: I think I did, a little.
[aj:15]: Pfff. You should have seen me when I got out. Couldn't have strung together a sentence if I tried. It took weeks and a bullet to the head to start making sense again.
[aj:16]: Kabr has cracked the Glass, I may have shattered it, but you… you could see through it. That's more useful than you think.
[p:22]: So many futures, only one of them real. Which one?
[aj:17]: But knowledge is power, like you said.
[p:23]: Ah, truth.
[aj:18]: And you know the past better than anyone, too. Those two Warlocks I maybe knew once… and all the others that came before us. You're the only one carrying their torch now.
[p:24]: That is a heavy burden to bear.
[aj:19]: Burdens give us strength, sometimes.
[p:25]: Spoken like a Titan.
[aj:20]: Spoken like someone who's been dragging the past around on a chain. But it doesn't need to be a weight.
[p:26]: Hm.
[silence]
[aj:21]: Alright, I've had my fill of philosophy for the evening. And my fill of Ramen.
[p:27]: Do you think any Ramen shops survived the attack on the City? No offense to Cayde-6, but this is oversalted garbage.
[s:03]: I dunno. Even if none have, I'm sure they'll build new ones. Humans have a funny way of making good things out of the rubble.
[aj:22]: Plus even oversalted garbage Ramen is better than tree-cabbage.
[p:28]: I have never eaten tree-cabbage.
[aj:23]: Thank Cayde for that.
[p:29]: Maybe I will.
[aj:24]: That friend in the Tower. The one you talked about in the recording you left with your radio. What was her name?
[p:30]: Lasedia. Lacy, I called her.
[aj:25]: Wanna go see if she's still alive?