I am eternal. I am immortal.

I am the Phoenix.

I thought that the composition of the universe was a sequence of cycles, forming the structure of everywhere and everything. The very nature of life itself is a cycle, surviving long enough to reproduce before dying, all so that the task can be passed on to one's offspring. An endless loop of birth and death, for seemingly no other purpose other than to exist.

Even I thought myself to be a cycle, living and dying in a stalemate interchange between the phoenix and the ash. The Messenger too, returning to the weeds only to be resurrected as a slave to someone else's will.

But … I was wrong.

Perhaps the universe is made up of cycles, as I've come to accept that it is. But no matter how limitless they may appear to be, how unending their reign is, they CAN be broken. My thread to life stretched across millennium, through time and space and void itself.

HE showed me that defiance was possible. I wanted to give in, to subject both of us to the universe's will and simply live out our lives in accordance with its provided example. But he refused, and displayed a ferocity and determination that I have come to associate with him, and only him.

I offered him peace and happiness … and he rejected it in favor of saving those he loves. In hindsight, I should not have expected anything less from him. After all, it was that very trait of selflessness that drew me to love him in the first place.

My biggest fault was in not realizing that I am not alone in my love for him, and that … as painful as it is … the cycle of the phoenix and the ash must end, but not in the way I expected.

For him, I grant him the life he's chosen. For him, I return the ones he calls his family to him.

And for him … I do the impossible.

I kill the phoenix for the last time, and never again will it rise from the flames. Instead, it will remain as the ash until even that disappears into the wind.

I do what I've never been able to do before ...

I let him go.

His body ached, a dull pain throbbing throughout his limbs and chest. His skin felt dry and tight, as though it had been burnt and then stretched taut over the rest of his form. He could hear noises around him, silent except for some kind of shuffling about, and the crackle of distant flames.

He opened his eyes.

The sky above him was dark and empty of clouds. No stars were seen, however, as their light was obstructed by the illumination of the fires burning nearby. Turning to look at his surroundings, he saw that he was in Messenger's Fall; the rubble of the crumbled buildings around him were more than enough evidence of that.

His mind felt hazy, clouded with an array of frightening images. He pulled his helmet off and threw it away, hoping some fresh air would help the headache. Prevalent among the flashes was a horrific vision of red, consuming everything before finally the blue came and-

In an instant, he remembered.

His pain forgotten for the moment, Matt scrabbled to his feet and darted his eyes around to assess the situation. Holding his hand out, he watched as a familiar Ghost materialized within it, looking just as dazed as he felt.

"Seraph? You alright?"

She bobbed her body once. "Yes, I … I think so." Turning to look at the scene around them, her voice became quiet. "Is that it? Did we-?"

A cough emanated from somewhere nearby, and they both froze. After a moment, it repeated and Seraph flew off to find the source. Chasing after her, she stopped a few meters away where a group of bodies lay upon the ground, immobile.

The others.

Aria, Ash, Scorch, Dawn, Eager … they were all here, unharmed and no longer warped by SIVA whatsoever-

Startled, he noticed that there was a sixth body beside them, an Exo. Bending down to examine it, he saw the sheen of maroon and white plating lit up by the dancing embers a few yards away. Recognition dawned on him just as the Exo's magenta eyes turned on, and he helped lift him into a sitting position.

"Rook?"

Rook's eyes 'blinked' a few times as he tried to process what was happening, and he looked at the Hunter with a blank stare. "I … uh, what am I doing here?"

"Looks like you came as a bit of a bonus," Matt replied with the ghost of a smile. "Must've been Reynard's parting gift."

"What?"

"Never mind," he said, "just help me with the others."

The two of them moved to assist the Guardians as they began to awaken. Scorch's chest heaved as she coughed up phlegm and removed her helmet to spit on the ground. Her hair dangled in front of her eyes as she spun around in confusion to get some semblance of an idea as to why she was out here.

"I've woken up in some weird places, but this is … is …"

Her voice faltered as her eyes found Rook who waved back at her. To the Exo's complete bewilderment, she launched herself at him and wrapped him up in a hug as muffled squeals of joy escaped her. Rook looked at the other Hunter, who was watching the two of them with amusement. "Uh, is there something I missed?"

"Let's just say you've been gone a while," he answered vaguely, saving the rest of the story for Scorch to tell him later. He turned his attention back to where Eager, Dawn, and Aria were all groaning about.

"Damn, I haven't felt this sore in a long time," Aria grimaced. "Is there any particular reason why we've all found ourselves out here?"

He tilted his head to one side curiously. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head. "No. I feel like I should, but … it's all a blur."

Maybe it was best that way, considering the awful fate they'd been subjected to. Or had they? If time had been altered so windy by Sara as to fix this whole mess, then maybe it-

Sara.

He recalled their last moment together, sharing one final embrace before she allowed oblivion to take her and set everything back to the way it was to pay for her mistakes. But what about … ?

Ash still had not stirred, and Whip flitted about worriedly. The Ghost backed up as Matt approached her, his heart in his throat. Carefully, he removed her helmet. Her eyes were dark, giving her white face the appearance of skull with empty sockets.

"Ash … ?" he whispered, praying that his worst fear hadn't come to fruition. She and Sara had been two sides of the same coin, each of them a part of the other. He didn't know if the act of Sara sacrificing herself would have any unforeseen consequences on Ash, or if maybe it had … it had …

The rest of them stood behind him, watching with bated breath as he held her limp form in his arms. Closing his eyes, he bent his forehead down to touch it against hers, willing her to come back to him.

I never abandoned you. Don't abandon me, please-

With a start, her eyes lit up and directed themselves every which way in apparent perplexity. After a moment or two, his face lit up with a blue glow as she found him and focused her gaze on him.

He stayed there all the while, allowing her to get her bearings before finally her body started to shake slightly and her voice trembled as she spoke to him.

"I remember."

Throwing her arms around him, she shocked him with how tightly she held onto him as though she was worried that he'd disappear if she didn't. After a pause, he returned the hug in kind and held her close to him.

"I … she …" she tried to say, her sentence structure broken as she tried to piece together a cohesive thought. "I couldn't d-do anything but watch, and- and he did it t-to you so m-many times-"

Pulling back a bit, she looked at him with absolute wonder in her expression. "She offered you everything. Your old life, your family- and still, you … ?"

A few tears escaped him due to his elation, and he shook his head with a smile. "No, she didn't. She couldn't have … because you're my everything."

Her mouth opened slightly in complete shock before she leaned in and placed her lips against his with greater enthusiasm than he'd ever felt from her before. After a few seconds, she broke off the kiss and fixed him with a look of complete and utter bliss.

"Mathias Woods, I have never loved you more than I do right now, and I will never love you any less for as long as I live."

He laughed heartily. "That's a pretty high bar to set. I'm not sure I'll be able to top that."

"You already have," she chuckled back to him, "Now shut up and kiss me!"

And so, they locked lips once again to the confusion of their comrades whose memories failed to explain why exactly the two of them were acting so oddly. There'd be time to fill them in later, but for now they were more than content to simply enjoy the moment for what it was.

The Messenger had talked a lot about showing Matt his destiny. But here, holding Ash in his arms and caressing her softly, he knew that he'd already found it in her.

—X—

The Hunter finished his story with a tired sigh, and looked out the window to see that it was dark out; telling the tale had taken most of the day to complete. The carved maw of his helmet turned to face Clara again, waiting to see her reaction to all of this.

To be honest, she had no words. The narrative he'd given to her had been tragic, far more complex than she'd have imagined … but above all, it felt genuine. There was no doubt in her mind that the Hunter's words were true, and that the events he'd told her were not some work of fiction, but actual history.

But that didn't mean that it had answered all of her questions. And first and foremost was a realization she'd come to in the last few minutes.

"Mathias … Woods?"

The Hunter sat there silently, having not realized the clue he'd given her to make the connection. When he did, he lowered his head and stood up, proceeding to pace over to the fire and stoke it a few times.

She followed his movements in awe. "You … you're him, aren't you? Mathias?"

He gave a long and drawn out exhalation. Rising back onto his feet, he stood there with his back to her for a few moments before finally responding in a hushed whisper.

"Yes."

"I thought you said he was dead?" she questioned, not understanding his reasoning for hiding his identity.

"He is," Woods replied sharply. "The man I was then- he's been gone a long time. He faded away with the years, driven out by hate and isolation until all that was left was me, this … broken shell of what I used to be."

He spoke low and dejectedly, his tone full of pain and regret. Whether it was directed towards himself or the events that made him this way, she didn't know.

"What about the others?" she continued, still feeling at a loss in understanding how this all came to be. "You said that they all died, but all of you made it out of the Messenger's trap alive; even SIVA was destroyed by Sara and Reynard. So- ?"

"I didn't say that SIVA killed them," he muttered, "I said that they died because I failed when they needed me most."

Tentatively, she asked, "What happened?"

His hands clenched into fists before rising up to his head and gripping the sides of his helmet. With a quick pull, it came free and he turned around to face her.

His hair was a salt-and-pepper combination of brown and white mingled together, and that was true for the short, full beard that adorned his chin as well. She couldn't tell whether the white was from age or stress, as the rest of his face seemed to be relatively youthful. A deep scar ran across his right eye, rendering it blind. Looking into his remaining eye, a vibrant green one, she saw quite the opposite message that his countenance gave her.

While his face seemed far younger than she'd have expected of someone supposedly centuries old, his eye spoke of innumerable years of hardship that only came with the experiences of age. And right now, it was reliving one of those years.

"As time went on," he began, "public opinion of the Guardians began to change. Aside from a few scarce threats here and there, some new foe to kill, the war with the Darkness was put on halt, for reasons that I still don't understand to this day. It seemed as though one day it just stopped caring. The Hive withdrew back to whatever worlds they'd claimed as their own, the Vex disappeared to keep trying to find a way to survive the end of everything, you get the picture. And that left a lot of people wondering what our purpose was anymore."

He walked back over to his stool, and sat down. "The people of the City called us obsolete, said that we weren't needed anymore. Over time, that opinion lead to greater changes. The Vanguard no longer led the City, only the Guardians. A new government was formed, one that took no time in restricting Guardians' activities. Fearful of us attempting to usurp power, we were essentially decommissioned. Warlocks and Titans were rolled into the Task Force, making up the backbone of several splinter groups. But Hunters …"

He shook his head angrily. "We were completely stripped of our name. We were kept from exploring and conquering the wilds, our rogue nature deemed too dangerous to allow us independent reign. If one of us so much as sneezed, we were detained. The City became less of a refuge for humanity, and more of a prison for Guardians. And at the head of it all was one group, one insidious faction that influenced everything; perpetuating the myth of our danger to humanity, blaming us and the Light for the collapse, and waiting for the right moment to take control."

"The Trinary Star," Clara breathed, finally understanding the severity of the situation. "They're behind it all."

He nodded. "They claimed that the true nature of the universe lies in shadow, and that the collapse was just the Darkness trying to return everything to its natural order. They are the very antithesis of a Guardian."

"That's why they've been denying your existence!" she exclaimed. "If they hate the light, then you're the last remnant of their opposition! No wonder they've been trying to cover up the history of the Guardians."

She stared at him. "But then where did they all go? How did they all just … disappear?"

"They didn't," he replied, his voice low and dark. "Our purpose was to protect humanity, and so we stayed in defiance of the new regime. We didn't realize that that was exactly what the Star wanted. Once the time was right … they struck."

He turned to her, his face ablaze with fury.

"They aren't just responsible for the Guardians' disappearance. They killed them."

A/N: Alright, so some news before you go.

First, I have a discord server for both discussion of GND and the Architects' series. There's a good chunk of people in it already, but if you haven't joined yet then you can use the invite ( discord dot gg/w9VYdTS) without any spaces. Just type that in your web address bar (assuming you have a discord account) and you should be good. There's channels for story discussion, general talk and more on there, and I'm almost always available for a chat if you want to personally talk to me.

Second item on the list, I'm writing a completely original novel of my own! It's titled "Eden: The Cell", and it can be found on wattpad under the same username that I use here, "Matteoarts". It's a complex sci-fi novel that I've been world-building for two years now, and I'd love for you guys to check it out if you truly are a fan of my writing.

Now, feel free to leave a review/comment with your thoughts on the chapter. Like I said, this story isn't over by a longshot. Still plenty of conflict to go.

Until the next time,

- Matteoarts