Frea was falling, but she wasn't in the Last City. White clouds surrounded her instead of the dense smoke from Cabal ships. She glanced down and saw only trees, no buildings, and no wall. The screech of a bird made her look up again and in front of her fluttered a magnificent falcon, made from pure light. It stared at her with eyes as black as midnight. Curious, she reached out for it and immediately her vision changed. Images soared past her as she flew through the sky, too fast for her to make out what they meant. She came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the forest. The trees here were twisted and burned, corrupted with dark energy, but what stood out most of all was the shard. It loomed high above the branches and teemed with light. It was a piece of the Traveler. The vision changed to white and again she was falling.

The huntress gasped as her eyes flew open, she tried to get up from the crater she found herself in, but a pain in her side made her halt. Her hand went to her abdomen and when she pulled it back, the glove was covered in fresh blood. Somehow, she had survived the fall from Ghaul's ship. Her armor took the brunt of the trauma but it now hung on her in tatters. She reached up and pulled off her cracked helmet, tossing it to the side. No bones seemed to be broken, shock might be keeping her from feeling most of the pain, but she was bleeding profusely. If she didn't get help soon, she was going to bleed out.

Frea grabbed the edge of the hole and pulled herself up, the effort bringing tears to her eyes. Her Ghost should be around here somewhere, if she found it, then maybe it could still heal her.

She gripped her side tightly and peered around. It looked like she landed on the outskirts of the City, only a short walking distance from the wall, her only chance of escape. Screams and the hum of tanks could be heard echoing off all the buildings. The Cabal were taking no prisoners. Frea's heart ached as she slowly moved forward into a drained water channel. She wanted to stay, to help, but she had no power and nothing to fight with. Her foot tripped on a rock and she toppled to her knees. She couldn't even muster the energy to walk.

Gritting her teeth, she got to her feet again and continued forward. Her body was getting weaker by the minute, she could feel the warmth of her blood soaking through her armor. At this rate she wouldn't even make it out of the City. The distance roar of an engine alerted her and she ducked behind a destroyed tank just as a Thresher flew overhead. It searchlight skirted over the ground, looking for Guardians and civilians alike. Frea hid under the tank until it passed, then pressed on. She was nearing the end of the channel where it fed out beyond the wall. Something bright blinked and chattered by the darkened gate ahead.

Her vision started to blur and she realized she wasn't going to make it. She collapsed into the shallow water.

"F-Frea!" Her Ghost noticed the sound and weakly floated over. "You're a-alive...I thought..."

Its light shined over her body and her wounds healed, the color returning to her face. She crawled to her knees and held out her palm for the Ghost.

"Are you ok?" She asked.

The little bot nodded. "Yes. I can heal you, but..." It looked away.

"You can't revive me," Frea finished.

The Ghost only nodded again.

"Alright, it's time to get out of here." She got to her feet. Her body still felt oddly heavy, a side effect from the Traveler's light being ripped from it most likely, but she could move. And for now, that's all she needed.

Three days passed since Frea escaped from the City out into the wilderness. Surviving out here was nothing new to her, she's had to many times before during patrols in the Cosmodrome, but this time she was without ammo. She didn't know where she was going exactly, only that a falcon seemed to be leading them somewhere since they left the wall. A falcon that closely resembled the one in her vision.

The huntress leapt down from a small cliff and her hand covered her mouth when she saw what awaited her at the bottom, stifling a cry of despair. She stumbled into what used to be a Guardian camp, but everyone was dead, taken out by the Red Legion.

"Oh no." Her Ghost materialized next to her, inspecting the other Guardians. "They're just...hunting us down."

Frea moved over the bodies to look at all their faces. She didn't recognize any of them. A loaded gun sat by one of the fallen Hunters. With a silent word of thanks, she took it and checked the reserves. There was plenty enough for her.

"They must have been evacuating after Commander Zavala gave his order," she said as she holstered the rifle. "They didn't even stand a chance against the Cabal."

"Guardian," Ghost called. "There's a radio."

She walked over to the center of the camp. The radio was set up high on a pole, its speaker fizzled with a multitude of voices.

"It must be picking up transmissions from all over the City," Frea mumbled and adjusted the tuning.

Once voice, patchy but louder than the rest, came through. "Help...us...Guardians nowhere to be found...Cabal approaching...Tower gone..." The voice cut out suddenly, drowned by shouts.

Frea's hands balled into fists at her side. Everything the Guardians have done, everything they have fought to protect, is now gone in one fell swoop. Are they really nothing without the Traveler's light?

A gut wrenching howl from behind made them turn around. It was a pack of Cabal war hounds, the spikes on their backs gleamed in the sunlight, a single Legionnaire handler stood behind them. He raised his gun and shouted something illegible. The hounds roared and sprinted through the snow, directly at the huntress and her Ghost.

Cursing, Frea leapt to the side and stabbed the first beast with her spare knife. It went down easily enough, but if the others got too close, she would be overrun. She pulled out her gun and took out the rest of the hounds, infuriating the handler more. He threw a fire grenade into her cover spot. Unable to react quickly enough, she held up her arms against the blast. It sent her flying out from behind the rock and she landed right at the Cabal's feet, her gun slipping from her burned hands. He stared down at the huntress with a sneer as he raised his heavy foot.

She rolled to avoid his stomp and slashed her knife against the back of his ankle. He screamed with rage and swatted at her, but she managed to move just out of his range. Mustering all her strength, she grasped her blade with both hands and planted it into the back of the Legionnaire's neck. It cracked through the armor and found raw skin inside, killing the Cabal instantly. He fell over as Frea landed roughly in the snow. Her chest heaved to breath, leaving wisps in the chilly air.

"You're hurt." Her Ghost reappeared to heal the burns covering her arms. "That was amazing."

"Yeah." She chuckled in spite of herself. "Desperation is a good motivator."

The huntress flexed her fingers, testing the new skin there. Most of her armor had either fallen off or she had to remove it to regain her mobility, replacing it all with refugee clothes she happened to come across during her long walk here. Everything was gone except for the cape she stashed in the sack slung across her back. The white and gold fabric was charred black, beyond all repair, but she couldn't bring herself to throw it away. She lifted herself off the ground and retrieved her gun.

"I'm starting to really miss being able to jump in midair." Frea grumbled as she climbed the rock face. The falcon patiently waited for her at the top, watching her every move. She wasn't sure how many days had gone by since the Cabal attack, being out in the wild can make one lose track of time. A week maybe, perhaps more.

"Is that bird following us, or are we following it?" Her Ghost asked, hovering in the air around her head.

She finally reached the top of the cliff and looked around. Wherever they were, the weather was warmer, the light snowfall from the mountains turned into a misty rain days ago. The City was merely a distance memory now. Frea's gaze moved over to the bird. It sat on a rock ahead of her, just a short leap away, and it stared with its black eyes. Normally it would have flown off by now when she got this close, but this time it seemed to want something from her. She backed away carefully, prepping herself to make the leap, and then ran forward. Her jump came up too short. The edge of the wet rock grazed her fingertips and she plunged into the valley below.

Thankfully, a lake was there to catch her fall this time. The cold water knocked the wind out of her as she sank below the surface. She didn't go far before a stranger's hand reached in and grabbed her scarf, pulling her free from the water. Frea coughed and gasped when she was back on dry land, the hand that saved her lightly patted her back as she regained her breath.

"Well, looks like we have another Guardian on our hands," a voice said overhead with a sigh. The huntress looked up to meet the eyes of a woman dressed in a worn poncho. A spiral of tattoos decorated her face and a sniper rifle was holstered to her back. Behind her hustled a group of people, loading scavenged items into jumpships. "Things must be worse than I thought." The stranger helped Frea to her feet.

"Wha-"

The roaring sound of a Cabal ship echoed over the mountains.

"That's our cue!" The woman turned around and briskly walked away, waving her hand to the others. "Let's go people."

"Wait, but...who are you? Where are you all going?" Frea stumbled behind her.

"As far away from here as possible." The stranger glanced up.

Frea followed her gaze. The falcon she had been following for the past week shot out of the sky and came to a graceful landing on the woman's outstretched arm. "That falcon is yours?"

"Name's Hawthorne." The woman nodded. "This is Louis. Best pilot we got. What about you? Fit to fly?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Good. Take this." Hawthorne tossed her a shotgun. Frea caught it and adjusted her grip, it felt good in her hands. "Time to make yourself useful, Guardian. We've got a long flight ahead of us."

It took them hours to get to their destination, where exactly that was, Frea wasn't sure. She watched out one of the portholes in Hawthorne's ship.

"Welcome to the EDZ." Hawthorne stepped up next to her.

"EDZ?" The huntress asked.

"European Dead Zone."

Something glittered on the dark horizon and Frea pressed closer to the window. Her Ghost appeared over her shoulder.

"Look! Do you recognize it?" It bounced up and down. "That's where we're supposed to go."

The fallen piece of the Traveler appeared just like in her vision. It was the same gloomy forest, the same mutated trees. Burning blue smoke billowed out from the top of the shard, snuffing out the sunlight.

"That thing?" Hawthorne asked in surprise. "That thing it the reason we call this the Dead Zone. It's not a place you want to go poking around."

Frea backed away from the glass and locked eyes with her. "I have to. This shard, or the Traveler itself called out to me, I have to answer it. Or at least try."

Hawthorne tilted her head, one of her eyebrows raised. "You Guardians are weird."

She chuckled. "Yeah, we are."