I died once, a fault of my mortal form, only to be reborn as metal and circuit.
I died twice, abandoned and prejudiced against; I was given a new life through shadow and darkness.
I died thrice, forced to watch as everything was stolen from me.
My careful planning failed. The attack crumbled and fell apart. My family, those who I'd taken care of and had trusted to return the favor … they turned on me.
Yet, I live again.
Why?
Why am I not permitted to feel the bliss that comes from fading into nothing? Why must I endure this god-forsaken experience known as life, the hellish plane that most cling to because it is all they know?
I know.
Vengeance.
It would appear that my only purpose in life … is death.
He shot out of bed before he fully realized what was happening. He brought his arm back, knife at the ready for whatever disturbed him-
No one was there. The room was empty save for him and Ash, the latter of whom was stirring from the commotion.
Wondering what had possibly woken him up, his query was potentially answered with a resounding boom far off in the distance. Turning towards the door, he was now able to pick up on the muffled gasps and low voices that could be heard outside the door, presumably from other Guardians who had been stolen from sleep like him.
He checked the time. Two in the morning. Whatever was happening right now, it wasn't supposed to be.
"What's going on?" whispered Ash, her blue eyes shining in the shadow of the room. He paused, unsure of how to answer her. He had a few ideas … but better to play it safe first.
"I'm going to check it out. Be ready, just in case."
She nodded, and slipped out of bed so that she could dress herself. Following her example, he pulled on the closest pair of pants before quickly exiting the room and making his way down to the tower courtyard.
Upon stepping out onto the balcony, Matt was surprised to see a gathering of Guardians standing near the railing of the courtyard and looking out at the city. With haste in his gait, he jogged down the steps and joined the throng of people to see what was the matter.
At first, his eyes didn't register what was happening. Then, he spotted a peculiar sight accompanied by another boom similar to the one he'd experienced earlier. A blossom of orange and red far off in the distance, near the memorial district in Messenger's Fall.
Explosions.
Now, his first instinct was to declare a state of attack; but he knew how paranoid many found him to be after his experience with dealing with the Darkness. More than likely, it was a few callous citizens who were messing with unauthorized ordnance they'd either stolen or crafted illegally. That meant that someone was going to have to deal with it.
"Seraph," he muttered, and watched as the Ghost materialized in front of him. "Notify the Vanguards of the incident, and let them know that we'll be handling it."
She pulsed once. "Done."
After she disappeared once more, he raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke into the interface. "Alright team, we've got an unknown situation down in Messanger's Fall. Explosions. Probably just some kids looking to have some fun in the memorial site, but I'm not taking chances. I want all of you geared up and ready to leave immediately."
"Already done."
"Copy that."
"You got it."
"It's too early for this …"
"On our way."
Sighing, he lowered his arm again. He truly hoped that it was just a mild disturbance that turned out to be harmless.
For everyone's sake, he hoped his gut was wrong.
—X—
Cautiously, he stepped through the rubble of several ruined buildings. The other five followed closely behind, though spread out to better prevent an ambush if one came.
He never came here often; while the site had been named 'Messenger's Fall' in light of the Darkness' defeat during the Battle for the Traveler, the Exo hadn't been the only one to die here. The memory of that rebar stabbing through his midsection was forever etched in his mind.
Most of the time, he thought of the place like his own grave, just waiting for him to return so it could claim him again. That kind of thought didn't sit well with him.
As they walked, thunderous noises continued to echo in the air, cracking and splitting the peace of the night. Glows of orange dimly lit up the black sky whenever one happened to occur.
They were getting close.
"What do you think it is?" whispered Dawn over the comms.
"I don't know," Eager replied, "But I've got the Task Force on standby if we need them."
Matt remained silent, letting them talk. He'd told Eager to refrain from sending in the force quite yet, and while the Exo had been somewhat unhappy with the arrangement, he'd agreed. The last thing they needed was to overreact and cause a scene that would only further everyone's view of him being a delusional victim of PTSD.
Finally, beyond the last remaining wall of a long-destroyed structure, he heard and saw the explosion firsthand. From this close, being just on the other side of the wall, it didn't sound like a 'boom' anymore; it was loud to be sure, but it was more akin to a gas stove turning on while next to a megaphone.
The point was that it sounded more like something was igniting rather than simply combusting.
Raising his fist in the air, he made a gesture for the others to stay quiet but follow closely. Leaning against the dilapidated wall, he pressed his head against it. There were noises, a cacophony of chattering like insects. It sounded distorted, but there was no mistaking it.
"Fallen," he relayed over the comms. He saw acknowledgement lights wink green, registering that they had indeed heard him and understood the situation.
That led to another question; what were the Fallen doing here? How had they gotten through the wall without anyone knowing? The idea of them coming here to do nothing other than the equivalent of setting off fireworks just didn't make sense to him. The Fallen were crafty, greedy; they never did something unless either something was in it for them, or it furthered their goals in some way-
"Finally … after all this time … I'm most enthusiastic about your arrival."
That wasn't Fallen; that was definitely a human voice … but it sounded garbled, like it was emitting through a broken speaker that distorted it. Who was it speaking to? The Fallen? Or some other unseen entity?
After failing to hear another voice respond, he was left confused. They wouldn't just be talking to themselves would they? And what was that about arrival? He hadn't seen anyone come … other than …
The gears turning in his head, he flashed a red light to the rest of the team. "Abort, they know we're-"
Before any of them could react, Fallen leapt out of hiding places they'd created in the rubble and debris. Within seconds, they were completely surrounded.
Leveling their weapons at the Guardians before them, they kept the Legends from defending themselves. One wrong move would trigger them into action, and that was not what he wanted them to do. Especially upon noticing the differences between them and the Fallen he was familiar with.
The ones before them wore the garb of the Devils, the most prominent and public of Fallen Houses on Earth. But their bodies had been corrupted, changed in horrific ways.
One Dreg was missing the lower halves of its legs, replaced with spindle-like protrusions that made sharp metallic noises when they scraped the ground. A Vandal's eyes had been removed, and replaced with cybernetically enhanced ones that glowed red through hexagonal filters. A Captain no longer had any hands, but rather had converted them into extendable blades that hummed with a red glow of energy.
Each of them had black plating and caps over their form, replacing the lackluster armor that they usually wore. It was pointed, spiked, unnatural. The Fallen were known to be pirates … but this wasn't just the look of scavengers.
They looked evil. Truly evil.
Whether their personalities had actually changed or not was to be seen, but one thing was for certain; this was something new, something they hadn't encountered before.
"Bring them to me."
Chittering angrily at them, the Fallen gestured towards the other side of the wall, where the mysterious voice was coming from. Without any other choice, they obeyed.
Upon stepping through the collapsed foundation, they found themselves in a relatively open area, free of most of the debris and litter that occupied the majority of the memorial district. Finally, he was able to get some kind of look at their host.
A single figure stood there, their back facing Matt and the others. A black hood and robes covered the majority of what he could see, but there was one thing he noted with unease; an aura of red surrounded them, almost like a small cloud of flies hovering around their head. The image before him screamed of the Grim Reaper, awaiting its time to rend the souls of the living.
And right now, they were its next target.
"Why are you here?" he questioned it, hoping to get some answers from this particularly unusual situation. "What is it that you want?"
"I wanted you," the figure replied coolly. "I apologize for the delay … but I was not yet ready until tonight to summon you. A few fires and eruptions … like moths to a literal flame, you came scampering like I knew you would."
Their head turned and glanced around at their present location. "I believe they call this place 'Messenger's Fall,' right? How fitting."
"And why's that?" Aria called.
With a warped cackle that raised the hairs on Matt's neck, the figure slowly turned around and revealed their horrifying likeness to them.
A blending of metal, not all meshed together properly. Maroon plates met white ones, shoved together with pieces sticking out at odd angles intermittently. Whatever wasn't securely fastened was held together by tendrils of a black and red polygonal material that strapped across them like organic rope.
A glow emitted from under the hood as a pair of mismatched eyes met them all. One amethyst, one blue.
His blood froze at the sight, realizing what exactly he was seeing.
The figure grinned, their eerily deformed smile easily visible from the red light produced by the swarm around their face.
"I may have fallen here. But it is from the ashes that I rise again."
The Messenger had returned.
A/N: How many of you thought this would happen?
Short chapter, work and school is hitting me hard, you know the drill. Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, I've obviously been focused on other things.
Next chapter should be out much sooner than it took this one to come out, and it should be longer too.
Until the next time,
- Matteoarts