"What do you mean by that?"

"What?"

"That 'atrocities' thing."

"Oh. Well, it's pretty simple to explain- when things are bad, people often think that things can't ever get any worse. But that's only because they lack imagination."

"How does a lack of imagination factor into this?"

"People like to apply situations to their own rules and understanding, try to make sense of it. They say that things can't get worse because, just maybe, they'll start to believe it if they say it to themselves enough times. But the sad truth is that reality is a very creative thing."

"… Isn't that what most people say is the least imaginative thing? Keeping it realistic?"

"That's because other people are stupid. If they used their brains, they'd realized that nothing would exist if it weren't for reality- and we've got all sorts of things that people never would have dreamed possible. The Traveler, the Darkness, all those races of aliens who sought to kill us so long ago … all of them existed in reality, did they not?"

"Yeah, I guess they did."

"Now you're getting it. Keeping it 'realistic' doesn't mean to limit your expectations; it means to broaden them to a point where you can prepare for the worst nightmare that reality's imagination has to throw at you."

His eyes told him plainly what had happened, but his mind refused to truly process it. He couldn't accept the Messenger's truth that everyone was dead, the moment he did was the moment hope was finally extinguished-

"Oh, I never get tired of seeing that face," sighed the Messenger contentedly. "Defeat isn't something you're familiar with- it's always great to see the magnitude of your failure catch up with you."

He heard the Exo talk like a dull echo, one that he wasn't paying much attention to. He was reeling, completely overwhelmed and unsure of what to do next. There was no goal to progress to, no people to save, no … purpose.

With a start, he realized that perhaps the Messenger had been right- maybe he had turned his purpose in life into protecting others, into taking on the role of a savior. Why? Did he just feel guilt over her, the one he'd failed to save in his past life? Or, as the Messenger suggested, was it more selfish in nature, born of a desire to achieve importance when it wasn't necessary?

Either way, he had no reason to live anymore. He'd failed to save his family in his previous life; Sara, Lucas, the twins, all lost with the sands of time and the Traveler's influence. And now, he'd watched as the only family he'd known in this life had been turned into perverted machinations of SIVA and the Messenger.

"Finish it then," he whispered wearily, resting on his knees as the Messenger stood next to him, turning to stare at him as he spoke in the voice of a broken man. The servant of Darkness chuckled mockingly.

"I thought you never give up? That you always have something to fight for, that hope is always just on the edge of the horizon-"

"I found hope in people," he muttered, "in the futures they strove to create for themselves. I took it upon myself to protect those dreams- to be a Guardian to them."

He waved his crushed hand towards the singularity. "But there are no more people. There's nothing to fight for, nothing worth giving my life to protect. You've seen to that- all that's left is to end what you began with me."

The Messenger's red eyes, one of his old blue ones and one of Rook's previous pink ones, watched him carefully, gleefully. He seemed content to simply enjoy his victory and savor it rather than mercifully ending it. "You'd like to think it's that easy, wouldn't you? That eternal peace is just a brief flash of pain away? Not so, Mathias."

Hearing his name come from the Messenger's mouth was like swallowing poison. Still, his mind was conditioned to find the root of a problem and this new development seemed worthy of its attention.

"Why?"

"I told you," he crowed, "the Darkness and I want to watch you fail over and over again, much like you've done to us at every turn. And with both SIVA and the Vex at my disposal, we can do exactly that."

As the Messenger spoke, Matt's mind continued to work out everything the Exo had said throughout the encounter …

Not the first time you've tried that, yet you still hope one day it'll get me. Ah well, I'll just let you get into it. This is my favorite part …

I'd rather be able to enjoy what comes next rather than trying to explain it to a bag of flesh like I've had to in past iterations …

You're lucky that I'd rather you be in better condition than they usually leave you; I prefer you to be coherent as you watch everything come to an end …

Allow me to show you your destiny.

He looked at the Messenger in horrified realization as a knot formed in his chest. "What did you do?"

"Finally figured it out, huh?" he cackled, his maniacal grin once again present on his warped metallic features. "You've been losing for a long time."

He began to circle Matt like a shark as the truth was revealed. "You've never had any chance for victory. From the moment you arrived, your fate is sealed. You're forced to watch as everything is stolen from you; your family, your leaders, your people, and your purpose. And then, once you beg for death at my hand … we begin anew, the cycle repeating as though it had never happened at all."

He stopped in front of the Hunter, directing his attention to the singularity. "Vex technology has never been so precise- sure, they've always had control over timelines, but not with such a web of intricacies! I've made the timelines comprehendible to those not of their nature, connected it to each and every servant perfected by SIVA! My army is eternal, stretching their influence into both the past and future!"

He placed one hand on Matt's shoulder, displaying an obviously mendacious act of camaraderie. "It's all worth it, just to watch you suffer."

Matt looked at him, hate seeping into his voice. "Go to hell."

The Messenger laughed and rose back up onto his feet. "I thought we just established that you're already here! Think about it- a perpetual loop of defeat as you watch everyone you've ever known get slaughtered for all eternity? Give me some credit, I can come up with one hell of a … well, hell."

In that moment, Matt didn't see the Messenger. He didn't see some vaguely mysterious Exo with a dark past and pretentious title- he saw Reynard. The mannerisms of the person he'd been before were still there, a sense of jovial nonchalance in the face of such a serious situation that Matt had seen in those logs Reynard made with Sara and Amelia.

What did it mean? Did it mean that the Messenger was still capable of redemption, or was it just a title for Reynard's conscious decision to obey the whims of the Darkness?

"How many cycles?"

The Messenger shrugged. "I've lost count. You and I have gone through this so many times- ironically, for as much control as I now have over time, I have an awfully difficult task in making sense of it. As near as I can tell, who knows? Maybe we've done this for years, maybe decades, even centuries. Does it matter? When time is infinite, then this has happened, is happening, and will happen for all eternity. Why worry about it?"

"Has it brought you solace?"

The Exo sighed. "If you're trying to find redemption in me, I'm afraid that we've had this many times before. As harsh as it is for you to hear this, I take far too much enjoyment in tormenting you."

"I didn't hear a 'yes'."

The Messenger- no, Reynard's eyes narrowed, and glowered at him. "What peace will I ever have? Even since I was human, I've never known rest. I died as a man killed by the light, and was brought back as an Exo. I died as an Exo abandoned and shunned by humanity, and was brought back by the Darkness to be a servant. I died by your hand, killed as a servant who failed to carry out centuries of the Darkness' planning. And yet, here I am once more to complete another's schemes."

For the first time since he'd met the Exo, he witnessed a brief moment- or at least a shred- of humanity from him. Sighing, Reynard sat down and stared at the singularity.

"It seems that I'm always brought back from oblivion to fulfill the will of another. For the entirety of my existence, I've lived as a servant. There's nothing to redeem within me because nothing I do is ever of my own mind. Even my body is merged with the parts of another, no longer truly belonging to me. The closest thing I've ever come to calling something 'mine' is this cycle of torture I've created for you, and-"

Silence descended upon them as Reynard stopped himself, seemingly unwilling to continue. Matt knew what he'd been about to say.

"And … Sara."

The Exo's fists clenched tight, and Matt expected another beating for speaking her name- but instead, Reynard just nodded. "And Sara."

"You loved her."

"Yes."

"Did you ever tell her?"

"How could I?" he rebuked the Hunter, scorn prevalent in his tone. "I cared for her, watched over her, did everything I could to keep her happy- but her heart always belonged to you. You were the entire reason she even became an Exo, all so that she could come back from the dead and live out the rest of the life she'd lost with you. Who was I to stand in the way of that?"

He could hear the pain in the Warlock's voice, something he'd never have heard the Messenger display- but this was no longer a duel between a Guardian and the Messenger. This was a talk between Mathias and Reynard.

"Then I died …" Matt said aloud, working through the pieces of the puzzle.

"I'd never seen anyone so distraught. She had a complete breakdown, destroyed lab equipment, and shut herself away for days. Amelia and I did our best- but she was never the same after that." He forced an artificial snort. "Ironically, the fact that you were out of the picture was worse than if you were alive. Any chance I had to reveal my feelings for her died with you."

"Out of respect?"

"Out of respect."

That put the situation in a significantly different perspective. "I …"

"There's no need to say anything, you've likely already said it."

"We've had this conversation before?"

"At least once or twice, a long time ago. We don't often get to this part, usually I'd have restarted the cycle by now."

"… So why haven't you?"

"I don't know."

His admission led Matt to believe that perhaps Reynard did know- he just didn't want to come to terms with it. He looked at the singularity, the view of the City in ruins, hordes of SIVA running amok while they sat here, high in the clouds and staring at Venus' horizon.

If there was any hope for a future … this was it.

"If the cycles have lasted as long as you say they have, then I'm sure I've probably said just about everything I can before, right?"

"Just about."

"Then ask me about something I haven't said."

The Exo looked at him. "What?"

"I'm predictable- I can't remember what I've said in past cycles, but you can. I can only say something new if you prompt me to do so. So- what can I say that you don't know? Tell me."

Reynard realized what he was saying, and stared at the Hunter for a few moments as he mulled it over.

"… Why you and not me?"

"What do you mean? You talking about Sara?"

He shook his head. "No, everything. Yes, Sara is a part of that- I did everything I could imagine to make her happy, yet she'd never choose me over you. But that's not all; why were you resurrected by the light while I was left to the clutches of the Darkness? Why did you succeed in the battle for the Traveler while I failed? Why did fate deem it fit to bring you back a second time from death after we killed each other, but left me in the rubble for years until I could be cobbled back together?"

He looked down frustratedly. "It was incredible chance that the Darkness revived the three of us to do its bidding. But the possibility that you, of all the dead to choose from, would be selected by the light to rise again? Astronomical. Every time the two of us are pitted against one another, you come out ahead. I don't know whether you're special or just have fate's blessing- but those are the facts. And I fail to understand why."

"You feel inferior?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Matt thought about that, how he'd feel if he was consistently outmatched in everything he ever strode towards in life. "Fair point. I … I don't know. Maybe the light chose me, maybe it was just dumb luck that my Ghost happened across me. But I don't have an answer for you."

The Warlock nodded, accepting that. "Perhaps neither of us ever will."

They sat there for another minute or so until Reynard came up with another question.

"Who am I?"

"Again, I don't know exactly what you mean."

"I told you already, I have nothing to call mine. Even my name, 'the Messenger'- it's just a title to describe one who relays the orders of another. I'm a servant of the Darkness, and a murderer. But … those are what I am. Are they who I am?"

"Before I answer that, why are you asking me this?"

Reynard blinked, staring at him as though the answer were obvious. "Anyone who cared about the person I was before is dead, and I'm not enough of a fool to believe the Darkness uses me because it's fond of me- I'm a tool I serve a function and nothing more. A means to an end. So I want to know who I am to you; my greatest rival, and the only person alive who possibly understands me."

It was surreal to be having this conversation at all, but Matt was going to answer seriously for what it was worth. "When we first met one another, you were an enemy to be defeated. But you became the very face of evil in my mind, someone so ruthless that they'd commit unspeakable atrocities to accomplish their goals. You weren't just in my nightmares; you were my nightmares."

He gestured at their surroundings with his good hand. "And a few minutes ago, you were the one who stole everything and everyone I ever loved from me, and forced me to watch as they were gutted like animals."

The Exo turned away, likely having been expecting that. But he wasn't done.

"Right now, though … you're just Reynard."

His gaze snapped back to the immobile Guardian. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Those words you used to describe yourself … you've murdered good people, and spent centuries in the servitude of the Darkness. But we are what we choose to be." He pointed at himself. "A Guardian is not who I am- I'm Mathias. What you are is the kind of person you choose to be- and I chose to be a protector, someone who would give their life to ensure that others wouldn't have to."

He jabbed a finger at Reynard. "Your past does not define you- what you choose to be now does. Whether it was because you wanted to or because you followed the others, you chose to pledge yourself to the Darkness. But if you aren't happy with what you are right now … then you can always make a choice to change that."

The red eyes staring back at him narrowed. "And what exactly are you suggesting?"

Matt sighed resignedly. "Reynard- I can't beat you. Not this time. You could simply restart the cycle, and I'd never know unless you told me again. You could continue this eternity of hell you've trapped me in if that was what you truly wanted. For once, you've come out on top- but I can tell that you don't feel like you have."

Reynard said nothing.

"You served the Darkness because Sara chose to. And now you serve it because it's all you know how to do. You say that you want a mind of your own, but you always allow others to choose your destiny instead of forging it yourself. Even now, you've let your hatred of me drive you to create this prison for me- and you know it."

Groaning, he reached up with his good hand and took off his helmet. Blood dripped from the various cuts and bruises he'd acquired from being battered around by the perfected Guardians. He wanted to look Reynard in the eyes with his own for this.

"If you want to change who you are, then choose to do so. There are only two ways this ends- either you let the cycle continue, or you break it."

"If I break the cycle, then you'll have won again," Reynard muttered stubbornly, though his argument didn't have nearly the confidence in it that he'd displayed earlier.

"No. If you let the cycle continue then neither of us wins. I will always be a prisoner to your torture, and you'll always be a prisoner to the Darkness and your own hatred. If you break the cycle, then that's your choice. You will have acted in your own interests rather than those of someone else."

The Exo became silent, legitimately considering the Hunter's logic. If he was still unconvinced …

"Reynard … I have no power here." The Warlock turned to face him again and was surprised to see the sincerity in Matt's eyes. "I can't force you one way or another- I'm completely at your mercy. If there was any hope I had of doing this by myself, I'd take it in an instant- but I can't. The hard truth is that only you can fix this."

He looked over at the perfected Guardians, those who had been his family only days before. Reynard followed his gaze, and then looked back to see a tear run down his face.

"I'm begging you, please. Please don't let your hatred of me consume you. For their sake and your own … I need you to forgive me."

For a moment, it seemed like the Exo would flat out reject him. His mouth opened and his eyes seethed with the memory of all the wrong Matt had done to him.

Then he closed it again, and looked down at the ground.

"… I'm afraid that it is I who must ask for your forgiveness."

Reynard looked out at the brightly illuminated refraction of the sun's light across the top of the clouds. "You're right. I let my hatred consume me. Not just now- but for centuries, I let my mind become forfeit to those who would use me for their own machinations."

He clenched his fists. "No more."

He stood up, and looked down at Matt as he sat unmoving on the ground, completely in awe of what had just happened. Unexpectedly, the Exo grinned.

"I was a good man once. It's time for me to be that man again."

He extended a hand down to Matt, waiting for the latter to take it. Almost in a daze, the Hunter automatically accepted and let himself be helped to his feet. Reynard looked at the army of perfected around them.

"I still have control over them, but that won't last long now." He turned to Matt. "The Darkness has been using SIVA as a conduit for its own mind, giving it thought and purpose."

"I kind of suspected as much," the latter confessed, remembering his and Seraph's time in the Sanctum's server farm. "So what now?"

"I'll have to purge this timeline," the Warlock said, thinking aloud. "That will reset the cycle- but unless I go back far enough, then it won't matter. It won't save your family." He looked over the the perfected Guardians with concentration until an idea struck him.

"Unless … yes, that should work." He looked at the singularity, and seemed to become engrossed in thought. "The timeline is like a code now, just bits and segments of data for what exists and what doesn't. Take one out, and it affects the whole stream. No SIVA means no transformation. It also means no army of perfected waiting to strike from beyond the city walls, so that kills two birds with one stone."

He looked back at Matt with another expression that he'd never seen on the Exo's face before- regret.

"It also means no more me- SIVA's just about the only thing keeping me alive right now. Without it, there won't be anything left of me for the Fallen to put together."

The Hunter stared at him blankly. "You … you'll die?"

"Don't act like it's something new for me," Reynard said jokingly. "Besides, you and I both know that there are things far worse than death- like living a life for someone else."

He became quiet and thought about what to say before changing his expression to one of pride. "I'm not sure that I can redeem myself for all of the lives I've taken- but I'll die knowing that my last act- an act of my own choice- was to save everyone else. Maybe it will even come close to one of the many stunts you've pulled."

Matt was nonplussed by the show of selflessness that Reynard was about to commit. He said nothing, waiting for the latter to get everything he wanted to say out of the way.

"One more thing; when I do this, I'm not sure if anyone else will recall all this. Maybe not even you, though I'll try. On the off-chance that you do remember what I did, do me a favor."

"What?" asked Matt, sincerely intent on fulfilling it.

"Remember me as Reynard, not as the Messenger. I know the City has 'Messenger's Fall', but …" He looked around at the gorgeous view they had atop the citadel. "I'd like to think that this is where the Messenger truly died, and Reynard was reborn."

Slowly, Reynard turned back to the singularity and began to focus on the red orb of energy. The view of the city disappeared to be replaced with a pure blinding light, slowly growing larger and larger in his field of vision. Brighter, brighter, and-

Just before it enveloped every corner of his sight, it started to dim. The orb shrank until it was back to its previous size, sitting there as though waiting for instructions.

He looked around confusedly to see Reynard still standing there with an expression quite similar to his own on his features.

"What? That should've-" He froze. "I'm locked out- something else has control."

"Something else?" Matt repeated, stunned by the new development. "Like what?"

Me.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, manifesting directly in their minds and all around them. They looked at the singularity to find that, instead of red, it was now a bright blue. It began to spin, energy arcing and crackling all around it.

I have waited across void and time and space for this moment, patient for the inevitable. But what will happen has already happened, and is happening … so here I am at last.

The familiarity of the voice could not be any clearer to Matt- this was the voice of that same orb that had helped him down in the abyss of Crota's throne world, presumably the same entity that had assisted Aria in killing Skolas and haunted Ash's dreams. He'd forgotten all about it, having last heard from it years ago.

And now it was in control of the entire timeline.

"Who are you?" he called loudly to be heard above the noise of all the lightning emanating from the singularity.

I am the Phoenix, and I am eternal. I burst into flame with spectacularity, reduced to no more than ash. Now, out of the ashes, I rise again. I am become immortal.

A particular strand of lighting struck the ground several meters in front of them, and surged violently as it branched off into a complex web of electrical streams. Slowly, it began to take shape- the main bolts formed a humanoid skeletal figure while the little ones became nerves, sinew, muscle and tissue. As they watched with both interested and horror, pale skin began to grow and cover the muscle, spreading over the form until finally the form was fully materialized.

It appeared to be a nude woman, one who raised her arms into the air and took a deep breath with a gasp as though she was feeling her lungs for the first time. Her breasts heaved along with her chest as it swelled to compensate for such a large inhalation as the one she'd taken. When she was satisfied, she released the air from her body and let her chest fall back into place.

Then she opened her eyes and stared at the two of them as they stared back at her dumbfounded. She looked at herself carefully before letting a smile emerge.

"Almost."

At that word, more energy surrounded her body. Garments appeared to form out of nothing until she stood there wearing potentially the strangest thing he'd seen all day, given the context of the situation; a navy blue turtleneck sweater and a pair of faded jeans. Her feet remained bare, and she clenched and unclenched her toes rapidly as though to experience the sensation of tendons and ligaments again.

Where she had originally been bald, short black hair now covered her scalp and hung just above her eyes.

Her eyes …

"Who are you?" growled Reynard, not used to seeing something so unknown unless he was the source of it. He clearly didn't recognize her. She regarded him with distaste, but let her eyes wander over to Matt where she regained her smile.

"I think he knows."

Indeed he did. It may have been years since he'd last seen her, but that face and those eyes were unmistakable. A cool electric blue, just like the ones in her past life … and the ones of who she'd become.

"… Sara?"

A/N: CHOO CHOO BITCHES, THE PLOT TWIST TRAIN HAS ARRIVED

Things to get out of the way; obviously Destiny 2 is her at last. And, just as I predicted, it's disappointing. To me, at least; maybe you guys will have more fun with it.

Other than that, I wanted to say that back in July we passed the two year anniversary of this series' existence, and I forgot to mention it. I'm amazed that I'm still here after all this time, and even more amazed that it took this long to get to this point in the saga.

So the orb has been revealed. Its (her) plot is upon us. And now, the only question is what will happen now that she's here?

Stay tuned to find out. Better have those tissues I told you to grab.

Until the next time,

- Matteoarts