He was here.

She wanted to cry out, to urge him to run far from this hell, but her voice had been stolen by the red.

All she could do was watch as he approached the red's vilest lair, unable to forewarn him of the plot that was yet to unfold if he continued. The trap had been set with them as the lure.

The Messenger had never intended for there to be a solution, he only wanted to sweeten his victory through the Hunter's failure.

There was no happy ending possible, she knew that now; the only conclusion would be one of devastation. There was no way to win, no reality where they would come out on top-

Out of the red appeared an anomaly, a- thing- that did not belong here. It whispered to her, fed her words that warped her mind and clouded her thoughts. She felt that this anomaly was familiar, though she could not place how …

A little blue light.

…

No. There was a way. Or rather, there was a reality where every outcome resulted in triumph.

Reaching out through the tendrils and bonds that tethered her to the red's many conquests, she found machines of time and reality, altering themselves to enhance their prowess tenfold. But even they did not realize the power they could wield through the combined efforts of thought and the red …

As mere machines themselves, they formed no real innovative goals; all they wanted was to survive, even through the end of the universe itself. They didn't think out of curiosity, only out of necessity.

She did not have that limitation.

She barely had the framework of an idea, let alone a real chance of accomplishing it. But she had no choice other than to try; the others had all but succumbed to the coaxing of the red. She could feel them with her, connected to her just as every other extension of the red.

Why was she left? Was she simply stronger than the others? Or, as she began to suspect, had she been chosen specifically for this? But what WAS this?

Destiny.

She had to work quickly if any hope of survival was to remain; the red asserted one mind over them, but she did not conform. She was permitted to retain her sense of individuality, her own reasoning. She did not know why, but she would certainly take every advantage she was offered here.

Who was she?

She was an Exo, one who had defied what was expected of her and fallen in love with a human.

She was Ash, one of the Legends sworn to defend humanity from all forces of the Darkness.

But she was certainly not another goddamn tool for the red to manipulate and control.

As it anticipated the Hunter's arrival, she began to spread herself- to multiply and grow just as it had done. She had no chance of expanding herself as much as the red had, but she could simply convert that which it had taken over.

She only hoped that he would buy enough time for her to succeed.

The floor illuminated wherever he stepped, one large chamber of emptiness. His footsteps echoed off the walls, the only sound in the silence beside his beating heart.

In the center was a hole, a cubic shaft that led down into open air. Below, Matt could see a dimly lit area of some kind; it wasn't much to go on, but at least he knew there was a floor he could land on.

Stepping forward, he let himself fall through the air to the ground below. Redirecting his shields once more, he absorbed the impact and landed in a kneeling stance for ultimate stability.

He'd barely had a second to regain his breath and begin to stand upright before he heard a loud, slow, and emphatic clap emit from several yards in front of him. Where it came from was pitch black, but he had a good enough idea to guess who it was.

He was proven right as a figure emerged from the shadows, sporting a crooked grin that spanned two separate sets of facial features. Those glowing red eyes stared at him with with contempt and dark satisfaction at the Hunter's arrival.

"What a creature you are," the Messenger remarked. "After stealing your loved ones, challenging you without any disguise to my intentions, and even after I personally assured you that you'd fail … here you are."

The horrifically meshed Exo laughed. "You're such a slave to your emotions, to your desire to help. I presented you with an enemy, and you came running like the simple-minded lapdog you are."

Stepping forward, he aimed a punch at Matt. It connected hard with the side of his helmet, just as the two of them had known it would.

For as long as the Messenger had control of the situation, he couldn't do anything if it meant jeopardizing the situation.

Raising his head calmly, he faced the servant of the Darkness once more.

"Is it really some ridiculous sense of altruism that drives you?" Another swing forced Matt's head to snap backwards, stunned by the power behind the blows. "Or is it a more selfish need to have some kind of threat for you to conquer? A narcissistic desire to be the center of your own story, a compulsive need to fight because you can't stand the true nature of a peaceful life?"

One final blow knocked him to the floor, head rattling and his vision swimming. Still, he said not a word.

The Messenger sighed. "You're pathetic is what you are. I can't believe-" he tried to say, but fell into a chuckle. "I honestly can't believe you're the same Mathias that Sara spoke of. You were her whole world, you know. The entire reason she even agreed to become an Exo; all so that she could share the rest of her life with you."

Matt tried to remain silent, but he found himself groaning from both the physical and emotional pain being thrust at him. He shut his eyes tightly, wetness beginning to from in their corners.

"The way she spoke of you, one would have pictured you to be some monumental giant, a light to which others could aspire to be." Looking down at the shaking Hunter on the ground, he sneered. "But you're none of that, are you? You're just a weak, pitiful excuse for a man who could never hope to be worthy of her affections."

Bringing his leg back, he directed a kick brutally into Matt's side and sent the Hunter rolling. Feebly, he tried to raise himself off the ground but was forced back into it by the weight of the Messenger's foot on his back.

Leaning down, the Exo whispered, "You didn't deserve her. And you don't deserve this life you've built for yourself."

Instead of continuing to beat him, the Messenger finally walked back towards the shadows as he talked. "She never forgot you for as long as she lived; not when we left the Clovis Bray facility, not when we were harassed by the rest of humanity for our inorganic nature, not when we were resurrected by the Darkness, never. Yet, you've left her behind in your past and even advised me to do as you've done. What was the phrasing you used- 'accept she's dead'?"

Groggily, Matt tried to stand back up as his rival glowered.

"Well, maybe you'll think differently when your new life is the one being torn apart." The Messenger raised his arms, and the lights flickered on to illuminate their surroundings. Clutching his abdomen, Matt looked on in horror.

He'd thought that the two of them were alone; not because he hadn't expected others, but because he hadn't believed it possible for so many beings to be so silent in the darkness.

He stood on the median of three levels of platforms; in front of him was the Messenger on the bottom level, straight in the center of the gargantuan chamber. The two other platforms to his left and right shared the same level, stretching forward and to the sides of the room. And covering almost every foot of them were SIVA-infected minions. Counting them was useless, they were innumerable.

Fallen. Various Hive. A few lumbering Cabal soldiers. Waves of Vex.

All of them swarming with clouds of red nanites, infecting every pore and nerve of their bodies.

Were they even themselves anymore? Had every example here willingly converted? Or had they been forced, as was the way that the Darkness tended to move things along?

"Don't worry," crooned the Messenger, "they're not here for you. No, their job will be made quite apparent once you've been properly dealt with. Instead, I have a few friendly faces for you to meet."

As he finished speaking, digitized flashes of red light began to appear around him, figures materializing within them. As the lights disappeared, he looked to examine them with renewed horror.

It was them.

The SIVA-fied Guardians said not a word, instead remaining completely silent and stationary. The Messenger wanted to savor this moment, to relish in Matt's most colossal failure and feeling of hopelessness.

To his right, he recognized Aria's armor, covered in those cubic-buds that were so signature of SIVA. Red tendrils and cable covered every inch of her form under the large pieces of metal that had otherwise been corrupted by it. Little worm-like tentacles waved around her head, stretching into the air like demented plant-life in bloom.

Looking around me, he saw more of the same. Behind him, Eager and Dawn. To his left, Scorch. And in front of him-

"Ash," he whimpered.

She did not respond, silent just as all the others. Her helmet had cracked apart, and through a split in the visor he could see one of her eyes staring out at him from within. It was wide and a sickening red, just like the Messenger's. More tendrils stretched around it, spanning across her features. He could only imagine the horrific sight that awaited within, if it were openly exposed.

"Where are their Ghosts?" Seraph asked fearfully to him from within. "I- I don't-"

He had no words of comfort for her, knowing that the worst had happened.

The Messenger had been right. There was no hope here. They were all gone. Not quite dead, just doomed to a life of corruption at the hands of a thinking plague, destined for nothing other than to be its puppets.

He wanted to sink to the ground, to give in and let whatever happened happen. He had no resolve, no strength to fight anymore.

All was lost.

—X—

She watched the will to fight leave his body, replaced with despair and a wish for to all to end.

She had no voice, and yet she screamed against the red. She screamed with every ounce of effort she could muster, what little of it she had left from what had been taken from her.

Reaching out to feel the new additions of her mind that she'd annexed and wrested from the red's control, she felt the presence over her slowly grow less suffocating.

She worked fast, once again setting to work in taking back control of what was hers, as well as going even farther and spreading herself throughout the connections that tied them all together, creating adjuncts that weren't even hers initially and manipulating them.

He couldn't win this fight, it wasn't possible. But she prayed to whatever entity was listening for him to hold out just a while longer and provide her with enough time to turn red to blue.

If he couldn't win, then she would.

—X—

He stood there, staring at the twisted husk of his wife that held his gaze with one of its own. That red eye stared back at him, sinister and flickering-

Flickering?

He caught his breath and watched it more carefully. As he looked on in morbid curiosity, he was startled to witness it alternate between being dim and illuminated until finally it did something he had no reaction for.

For the briefest of moments, it became blue again.

It only lasted for a second before reverting back to the crimson glare of the SIVA that inhabited her form, but he was sure of what he'd seen. There was a hint of her still in there- was it in all of them?

"Matt?" came Seraph's voice, looking to him for both comfort and confirmation of what they'd just observed. He drew in a deep breath, tightening his fist as he did so.

The Messenger watched him carefully, his gloating expression replaced with one of surprise. After all that had just transpired, he was still going to fight?

Matt thought back to what was at stake here. His family, the City, all of humanity should the Messenger unleash SIVA upon them like he'd done to the armies of the Darkness. Even if he was doomed to fail, giving up would get him nowhere. There was no other option.

In one quick motion, he drew the Hawkmoon and fired.