- The Speaker, Destiny 2
…
Undira Raja looked down at the carefully stacked mound of concrete amidst a small field of other makeshift graves. This one was special, however. It was the only one with something resembling a headstone, and particular care had been taken in its construction. A loaded sidearm, Awoken in make, lay at the base of the stone. He recognized it. Undira's dark eyes studied the inscription on the flat stone's face.
Here lies Kipo Oak, a friend to all.
Undira's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. The report was true.
"Prome, how long ago was this erected?"
His ghost materialized beside him, black shell gleaming like obsidian in the evening light. Prometheus spoke deliberately, deep voice almost uncanny from such a small frame. "Nine hours and thirty-seven minutes, at my estimate."
He stared at the headstone for a while longer, hands in his jacket pockets, appearing to any observer a casual graveside visitor. But his hands were clenched in his pockets. Undira's eyes picked out the detail in the inscription, the way it had been scorched into the stone like it had been etched by an incredibly fine welder. Or a solar knife. It must have belonged to that guardian she'd been accompanied with.
By the fine layer of ash on the floor, blast marks on the walls, and the dozens of Cabal killed by human firearms in the battle-torn basement, Undira knew the guardian hadn't let the girl go quietly. "He must be in a lot of pain," Undira murmured to himself. He knew that pain, of not being able to save those oh-so-fragile mortals that the Risen of the Light became close to. He removed his hands from his pockets and knelt before the pile of stones.
He thought back to his meeting with the otherworldly girl. His interest had been simple at first. Not only was she from another dimension entirely, but her enthusiasm, joy, and curiosity had all been so refreshing to his ancient soul. But deeper than her bright existence was her power, a thing far more primal than anything offered by the Light or the Dark. He'd only caught a glimpse of it, but it was enough to pique his interest, something that couldn't be said much anymore.
But now, here she was, in a grave, life taken by a Psion sniper. "Not acceptable," he muttered, standing.
Kipo Oak was special. He'd seen it, when he'd met her, and even now, in death. She was buried alongside Eliksni, and the record he'd read made it clear she'd died fighting alongside them. She'd been sent here for a reason, Undira was sure of it. And he'd know what that purpose was, even if he had to wait a few more centuries.
He looked to Prometheus. "Pull up the death report."
"Done."
"Triple its circulation range and frequency. Send personal messages to all the ghosts in our network." Undira Raja looked up, into the dimming sky. "Encrypt a message into its metadata; the Rat King requests the aid of his friends to save a child of the Light."
Prometheus paused, his azure eye regarding his guardian. "Is this a sign that you're ready to reveal yourself?"
"Those who see will see," Undira replied calmly. "This is something worth risking my mystery for." He looked down once again at the name, carved by Light into the stone.
Kipo Oak, friend to all.
"Death will not stop this Garden Child."
…
/entries/rat-king?highlight=rat+king Some reading for those curious about this "Rat King" stuff