He's nothing more than a thief. The one who stole it all away from me.
So, I've come up with a rather simple solution.
I'm going to steal it all back.
Clara looked to her midsection, where Ghost flitted about replacing the plating on her abdomen while she sat. He'd be at it for a while, since he seemed to be aiming for extreme precision with a healthy fear of messing up.
The Hunter grabbed a stool from a corner of the room, and brought it in front of her little cot next to the fire. With a tired groan, he sat down and looked at her.
"Let's get this out of the way; I'm not telling you this story because you asked me to," he iterated. "I'm telling you because … well, I've kept it to myself for a very long time now. And it's become somewhat of a relief to have someone else know the truth."
She did not reply, but he could see the sparkle of curiosity in those blue eyes of hers.
"Before you can understand the impact of what happened, it's necessary for you to understand who these people were … and why they did what they did."
She tilted her head, and waited with anticipation.
"The six of them were known as 'the Legends' … somewhat of a fitting name for them now. Each of them had their own motivations and uniqueness that aided their contribution to the team."
His head wasn't looking directly at her; it seemed almost as if he was lost in thought, like he was trying to think of the most accurate descriptions he could. "Scorch, a Hunter. She was as young as she was headstrong. Always trying to tackle challenges far too large for her … but it only added to her character. She could be just as compassionate as she was stubborn when she wanted to be. She fought because it was her destiny."
"Aria, Warlock. Second to Scorch, she had been the youngest until the latter joined up. She was always so vibrant, and full of enthusiasm. She could get you excited about nearly anything, no matter how mundane it truly was. She was just as happy with her nose in a book as she was in the middle of a meadow … or a firefight. She fought to protect her home."
"Eager-11, a Warlock. He started out as a member of the City Task Force, back when it actually meant something. He wasn't originally a Guardian, but he became one out of necessity. I always found him to be a level-headed individual, cool under pressure and with little patience for nonsense. He fought out of necessity."
"Ash, a Titan … She …"
The Hunter took a moment of pause, and she waited patiently. Evidently, her profile was a bit more sensitive to him than others.
"… She and Matt were the first of the six to meet. From there came Aria, and then the other three. She fought out of loyalty. There's far too much to tell about her, too much for you to understand quite yet … perhaps she was the most tortured of any of them, in the end." He looked away. "Maybe even me."
She found it hard to believe that, considering what she now knew of the Hunter's history so far. But if it were true, then she did not envy the woman.
"Dawn, a clone of Ash … somewhat. Both were Exos, and Ash literally fragmented her mind in a cry for help. That fragment became Dawn, originally just a copy … but she developed her own personality, quirks, and friends. They were more like sisters than the same individual. She became her own person, and I always respected her for that. She fought because she was born for it."
He grunted. "And Matt … that Hunter I told you about."
She nodded eagerly.
"He was an outlier, someone from the past dragged into a fight that wasn't his, far in the future. But he made it his, adapting to his new life and friends as he was forced to leave his old ones behind. He was their leader … but he was not without flaws. He always tried to do too much, spread himself out too thin …"
Tentatively, she asked, "What did he fight for?"
He gave a deep sigh. "To protect the ones he loved, and never have to suffer through the death of a friend again."
A pause.
"In the end, he failed to protect them when they needed it most."
"Is that how they died?" she whispered.
He nodded. "That's how they died."
—X—
Immediately, purple energy began to flare up in Aria's hands. Eager took the hint, and allowed flames to spring up from his. Dawn seemed uneasy, and unwilling to move forward yet.
Scorch was astounded. "But … this guy died ten years ago! How is this possible?"
The Messenger gave a low-pitched giggle. He seemed to be more unhinged than the last time they'd encountered one another. "It's true, my body was nearly completely obliterated by him," he spat, his finger pointing accusingly at Matt. "But just as Guardians have the light to revive them … I had the Darkness. My soul remained, tethered to my place of death here in the ruins."
He waved his arm around at the scene of destruction around them. "It wasn't until the Fallen discovered something that I could be given yet a new chance at life. Something … beautiful." He shrugged. "Of course, that wasn't to say that it was all I needed. For starters, I needed a new body … or at least part of one."
Horror crept into Aria's voice as understanding swept through her. "Oh, God …"
Matt finally placed the pieces together. The white plates and blue eye, that was the Messenger's original body.
But that maroon plating and purple eye …
Scorch saw it too. "… Rook?"
"Did you know him? Oh, what a shame." The Messenger gave a mock expression of apology, half him and half Rook. His whole body was just one large horrific mesh of his original parts and Rook's.
Scorch's hands began to shake, and she sank to her knees in almost complete ignorance of their current situation. Matt didn't blame her. He knew that he'd been expecting to find a corpse … but not whatever this monstrosity was.
He was too dumbfounded to say anything. The disturbing nature of his new body aside, this was the man who'd nearly killed him, who'd come closer than anyone else ever had to extinguishing the light.
And he was back.
Next to him, Ash was having a similar reaction. But unlike him, she recovered slowly and took a cautious step forward.
"… Reynard?"
That smile on the abomination's face slowly dissipated. "You … ?"
She jumped on the opportunity. "We … we know the truth. We saw the tapes, the ones you made with Amelia and …" She paused, unsure of how to proceed.
"And you," he supplied, his tone changing into something more akin to hope.
"No," she confessed, "it was Sara who made those tapes."
His eyes narrowed. "What game is this? You are-"
She shook her head. "No. I am not Sara. Not anymore. She's dead. She gave her life to allow me to live when she crushed that crystal."
His discolored gaze met hers. "So … Sara is truly dead?"
It pained Matt to hear him say that; at the end of the day, both he and the Messenger were friends of the same woman, replaced with the one standing next to him. The difference was that Matt had accepted it, and moved on.
The Messenger, clearly, had not.
"Then I suppose that means that I have nothing left." His tone turned darker, and the red-rimmed grin returned. "Nothing to hold me back."
Matt held up his hands, opting to take a new approach then the one they'd entertained in the past. "Look, this doesn't need to end in bloodshed."
"Speak for yourself." Scorch's voice was low, and filled with rage. "I'll kill him if it's the last thing I do!"
"Dawn!" he called quickly, and without missing a step the Titan quickly wrapped her arms around her and kept her from charging forward as she'd just been about to. He knew enough about the Messenger to understand that even if he was potentially weakened, he was the most formidable foe they'd ever faced. He'd kill her easily.
"Let me go!" she screamed, but Dawn did not give in. Assuring that she had control of the situation, Matt continued.
"I know your reasoning, I know what you've been through." He hated him, but he was willing to let it go for the sake of everyone's safety. "I had to go through it too … accepting that she was dead."
The Messenger tilted his head. "How … how do you know of Sara?"
Matt sighed. "I'm … I'm the one she waited for. The one she left behind when she died."
The red haze around the Messenger's purple and blue eyes glowed brighter as he widened the metallic caps. "You … you're Mathias?"
He nodded.
Unexpectedly, the Messenger gave a bark of laughter. "I'll be damned. This is more than fate, this is destiny. You and I, two sides of the same coin!"
"Please, we can just-" Matt tried again, but the Messenger cut him off.
"She waited for years to see you again, only to break when she found you were dead." He shook his head. "Yet, you seem to have moved on quite well without her. You're not fit to speak her name."
Matt growled, quickly losing patience for the insane Exo. "You don't have to serve the Darkness any more! Look at what Sara did! What Amelia did! They-"
"This isn't about the Darkness any more," the Messenger cooly stated. "Every plot it's thrown at you has failed, it has given up trying to destroy the Traveler. Instead, it's set its sights on different prey."
"And that would be?"
That same red grin met them again, full of buzzing amidst the swarm that surrounded the Messenger's head.
"Revenge."
New swarms of that same red haze that surrounded the messenger sprung from his fists. They jumped at their feet, and began to form into miniature whirlwinds, crackling with red electricity.
The red clouds around them spun at ridiculously high velocities, and he had no doubt that if they touched the walls surrounding them they'd be shredded.
"You …" The Messenger began, his voice rising in volume. "You stole everything from me. Now …"
He tightened his hand into a fist. "I'm going to return the favor."
Without warning, his swarm spat him backwards onto the hard ground. He tumbled for a moment before landing flat on his stomach, and looking back at his imprisoned friends. With fear in his eyes, he looked towards the Messenger who pulled his hood forward and covered his face.
"The Fallen are just the first step. Soon, SIVA will find a home in all who serve the Darkness! And when that happens, you will know fear."
A red grid appeared, one that looked like some kind of corrupted transmat. It surrounded the Fallen, the Messenger and the other Legends as they slowly began to fade out of existence.
"If you want them back, you'll have to find them. And when you do, you'll lose … everything."
"NO!" Matt shouted, and he charged forward. But it was too late.
By the time he had reached them, they were gone.
Seraph materialized, and began rapidly scanning the area. "I can't trace them! That transmat had some kind of foreign signature, unknown. Whatever it is, it's blocking me out!"
He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
This moment had been coming a long time. No one had believed him, they thought he was paranoid. Now, he'd seen the consequences of being right firsthand.
But he was still free … which meant that the Messenger wanted him to find them. There was still a chance they could win.
He could still save them.