And in a burst of light that blinded every angel
As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars
You felt the gravity of tempered grace
Falling into empty space
No one there to catch you in their arms
Iridescence – Linkin Park
October 21, 2958, 18:52; Near the Lighthouse, Fields of Glass, Mercury
It was evening on Mercury and insufferably hot. The air rippled with the heat rising from the Sun-baked sands. Wind whistled over lifeless stone. Just below the edge of hearing, there was the hum of Vex machinery. Azra took it all in with a silent judgement. It would remain evening for another dozen hours yet, and then the Sun would slip beneath the horizon and Mercury's long night would begin.
It hadn't always been this way. Once upon a time, Mercury had spun neatly on its axis. It was a garden world, with a day/night cycle similar to Earth's. The rotation was a clever bit of terraforming on the Traveler's part; even the most robust of atmospheres couldn't distribute the heat on a tidally locked world.
Once upon a time, even further back, Mercury had been tidally locked, one side forever boiling under the Sun's oppression while the other was left freezing and barren. But then the Traveler had visited, making wind and rain and spin, and for a few centuries at least Mercury was a paradise. Then the Collapse had come and the Traveler had fallen silent. Mercury's spin had slowed, causing the days and nights to lag on. Life struggled.
And then the Vex had happened. They rolled over the surface of the small planet, planting the seeds for their prediction engines, building spires, and poisoning the ground with Radiolaria. Azra in her youth had seen the last vestiges of Mercury's glory- golden grasses and violet trees- but all of that was gone now. The sand was lifeless, tainted with acid, and unwelcoming to new growth. The only living things here now were the Vex, a few stubborn Guardians, and some tattered dregs of the Red Legion.
And Osiris's cultists. Spark picked up a radio signal as Azra surveyed the land. Normally they would ignore it and go about whatever business they were here for, but she needed intel. These people had been living here for decades. They had to have some insight into recent events.
Spark linked them into a comms channel and a pleasant baritone greeted them. Azra recognized the voice of Brother Vance from her brief forays into Trials tournaments. "Welcome to Mercury, Guardian. The signs told me you would come."
"Uh-huh," Azra said, skepticism dripping from her tone. She unholstered Adelante and began her cautious approach to the Infinite Forest's gate. "Did your signs tell you anything about why the Vex are freaking out?"
"They say Osiris will return soon," Vance said with the conviction. "He will save us." Translation: I have no idea and we're screwed.
"I prefer we save ourselves," Spark quipped.
Azra had forgotten just how… interesting the Cultists could be. They took cast-off scraps of Osiris's writing and twisted them into prophetic truth, trying to squeeze purpose and meaning out of the random chaos of the universe. Azra got it. It was terrifying to be at the mercy of chance, of forces so far out of your control and so incomprehensible as to be God, and a God that neither knew about you nor cared. But it seemed that there were better solutions to that existential dread than throwing all your faith in one cantankerous Warlock.
Still, don't annoy Vance, Azra warned. He's our best informant on this. "Hopefully Osiris does return soon," she said for the benefit of the feed. "From what I can tell he's gotten himself into some real trouble." She paused when movement caught her eye. She brought her rifle up and scanned the horizon through its scope.
It was nothing worrying in itself, just a few Vex marching their way over the sand. Hardly a threat. But as Azra adjusted the focus, her stomach dropped. They were not the standard Sol Collective frames that should be occupying Mercury. They were plain white and shiny gold. Clean lines. The color of their eyes was washed out from the distance, but Azra knew when she approached they would glow arc-blue.
Vance spoke again over the radio, though Azra was barely paying attention. "What brings you to Mercury, Guardian?"
"How long have there been Precursor Vex on the surface?" Azra asked in return. Her voice shook a bit. This was unexpected, and unexpected things were never good when the Vex were involved.
"The other Followers began reporting this new Collective several days ago," Vance intoned
Azra managed to banish the tremor from her voice, but she could not hide the alarm. "Not a new Collective. Old. Very old. I haven't seen them since…"
Azra leapt over the sandy Vex stone. The Oracles chimed above her, but Wahida's Scout Rifle was already barking its song in reply. The Aegis glowed brightly on Azra's arm. It drowned out the reddish light of the distant past with the harsh blue of here and now. Sylas barreled along behind her. She raised the shield to cleanse Wahida while Sylas charged shoulder-first into the frame of an alabaster Precursor Minotaur.
"That's… worrying," Spark said.
"Ikora," Azra spoke clearly, knowing the Warlock Vanguard was monitoring the channel. "There are Vex types here I haven't seen outside of the Vault of Glass."
Worry broke through Ikora's usual cool radio manner. "Has the Vault regained power?" she asked.
"I don't think so," Azra said. "I was there recently." She watched a Hobgoblin stomp its way up a flight of stairs and through a Gate. "But this is still a very bad sign. I thought this was just the Sol Collective being more active, but if Vex from other parts of the timeline are here…" She slung the rifle back over her shoulder in preparation to move. "I'm going to head straight into the Forest," she announced.
"Best of luck to you, Guardian," Ikora said. "If you need anything else, just ask."
Azra was just about to leap off her stone block when her Ghost stopped her. Are we forgetting anything? He asked silently. If it's been days, then five minutes won't make much of a difference. Let's not be hasty.
He was right. Azra settled back on her heels with a sigh. There was a source of information they hadn't really tapped. "Brother Vance, does Osiris ever leave the Infinite Forest?"
"No," Vance replied. "And we keep watch over the gate. Nothing passes by our attention."
"Sagira passed by your attention," Spark pointed out. "The Hidden found her, not you."
Brother Vance gasped on the comms. "Osiris preserve us! Sagira? She's here?"
"She's… inactive," Azra said carefully. "I don't know why. I get the feeling she probably knows what's going on in there-"
Vance's demeanor on the feed had changed, suddenly full of a boyish eagerness. "Please, please, then- bring her to me!"
"I don't see much point, unless you can wake her up-"
"There are things I can try," Vance replied. "I want to see her."
Sagira was just as likely to spit in Azra's face as Osiris was, but she had to know what was causing this Vex ruckus. If there was a chance at getting her operational again, they needed to take it. And Vance seemed willing to help. Either he was a good actor or he was unaware of Azra and Osiris's antagonistic history.
Told you he might be useful, Azra thought to her Ghost.
He's still too much of a fanboy, Spark shot back.
The interior of the Lighthouse was markedly cooler than the blistering Mercury evening. Good thing, too- 70 Celsius would kill just about anyone, Exos excluded. Azra removed her helmet with a sigh of relief and glanced around. There were a couple of people gathered inside, most of them incredibly absorbed in their books and scrolls. Brother Vance stood in the place of honor on the central platform.
Though he was blind, he wasn't an easy man to sneak up on. Apparently even Azra's nearly-silent footsteps were enough to alert the him. He turned away from his tome eagerly (how could he read it without sight?) and greeted her. "Guardian, welcome. There is no time to waste."
Azra dug into her pocket and pulled out the inactive Ghost. She still felt apprehension dogging her- too aware of the secret-by-omission she held, worried that Vance might accidentally hurt the Ghost left in her charge, worried at how Sagira would react to Azra's involvement, worried at what the Vex were doing-
Worried in general. She did her best to push it aside. She cupped Sagira's shell in her hands, careful of the sharp bits, and held it out towards Vance.
The Disciple reached out, fingers barely brushing the Ghost, palms hovering almost reverently. "What has happened to her," Vance muttered, half anger and half sorrow.
Azra traced a thumb over Sagira's optic absentmindedly. There was a crack splitting the glass in half. It was hard to not look at the scratched and limp shell and not feel some pity.
But still-
Azra focused a surge of Void light and the bone crumbled into dust. The whispers ceased. She brushed her hands off and took one last survey of the space. Her eyes caught on Sagira, who hovered over her fallen Guardian.
You were my Ghost once, Azra wanted to say. You're supposed to be on my side, even just a little. How could you let this happen?
But then Sagira started gathering the Light in preparation to resurrect her Guardian. Azra left.
Brother Vance shuddered and pulled his hands away. Azra flinched reflexively, cradling Sagira's shell to her chest. How much of that did he feel?
But Vance just turned away, muttering to himself about strange times. He eschewed the books on his table and instead pulled a data pad out of a drawer.
"We have a hidden temple of Earth," he said. "The Followers there will be able to help you revive Sagira. These are the coordinates- I will notify them that you are coming." He took a breath and seemed to shake off his previous worries. "Here we must focus here on preparing for Osiris's return. All the lost prophecies are coming to pass!"
Azra slipped the Ghost shell back into her pocket and breathed a silent sigh of relief. She was forever going to be on cat's feet around Brother Vance, waiting for him to realize that his beloved role model hated her guts.
Near miss is still a miss, Spark reminded her. Let's get moving.
"I'll be back soon," Azra promised. "If something bad happens, you have my transponder code now."
October 21, 2958, 20:35 (Tower Time); European Dead Zone, Earth
It was early morning in the EDZ, dim compared to Mercury's blinding sunlit sand. At least it wasn't boiling outside.. Azra slipped in between the Fallen patrols, not wanting to waste any time tangling herself up in a fight. The sooner she could get Sagira awake, the sooner they could get to the bottom of this business and the sooner she could hand it off to someone else.
Conflict with the Fallen was inevitable, though. Vance's coordinates pointed Azra towards an old radio tower. The Fallen were swarming the place. Azra figured they were probably just on a routine supply grab. She had personally scouted this area herself during the Red War but hadn't seen any sign of any interesting features- hidden temples or no.
It'd be a pretty sucky hidden temple if you could just stumble upon it, Spark pointed out.
Azra just shrugged at that and set about clearing the Fallen. They held onto their supplies stubbornly, but once Azra dismantled their Walker and killed the Captain running the operation, most of the Vandals and Dregs seemed to realize the hopelessness of their fight and fled to their Skiffs. Azra brushed herself off, reloaded her guns, and went about searching for this supposed hidden entrance.
It turned out to not be very hidden. It was a trapdoor into the maintenance tunnels under the tower, and it sat wide open. Azra noted some cloaking tech in the area, but it had been deactivated. All of Azra's witty remarks died in her throat when she trotted inside and found out why.
Ikora tapped a pen restlessly on her desk. She had to admit, this was her least favorite part about being the Vanguard. It was intensely frustrating to sit in her office, watching the danger through someone else's eyes, only seeing what they looked at, unable to help except by offering knowledge or suggestions. She was usually quite happy to pass the duty off to Zavala or another close by in the field (at least if something went wrong they would be in a position to help). With this mission, however, there was nobody else she trusted to run ops.
Her main screen was dominated by a feed from Azra Jax's helmet. There were other readouts: scans of the ambient audio, GPS data, vitals taken by the Hunter's armor. Ikora found herself ignoring these, focused wholly on the video.
Azra stepped cautiously down the stairs, her sidearm out and at the ready. Her head turned to scan the space in steady arcs. The main room was a mess. Crates and bookshelves had been knocked over, scattering scrolls and half-melted candles everywhere. Ikora was surprised nothing was on fire.
The camera feed played across the walls, noting the tapestries and strange machines, then down to the floor where the corpses lay.
"We're too late," her Ghost said sadly. He hovered low to scan the body of a Follower. A new window opened up with his findings: low temperature, congealed blood, rigor mortis setting in. Ikora dismissed the popup. She didn't need a Ghost scan to tell they were dead.
"The Fallen got in here first," Azra said blankly. "It's a massacre."
"How many?" Ikora asked gravely.
The camera swept through the room, then looked to the door leading further into the secret temple. It had been torn off of its hinges. "A dozen at least," the Hunter reported. She stepped over to the hallway and looked down. It was in a similar state to the entrance room: splintered wood, interior lights weak and flickering, torn tapestries. Ikora made out another slumped Human form lying half-out of a closet. "There are more back rooms here," Azra murmured. "Maybe some are still alive-"
"Don't bother," her Ghost said. "They've been dead for over an hour. The Fallen had plenty of time to ransack this place." His feed cut as he exited realspace and reconnected from a vantage point on the Hunter's shoulder. "Not your fault," he reassured. "Just bad timing. They were probably already gone before Vance sent his message."
The Hunter sighed audibly. "So what do we do now?" she asked. "Fallen have been looting this place. They probably already took what we need-"
"I don't think they did," Ikora said. "That pedestal back in the main room-"
Azra's video feed swung back around and located the artifact. The Fallen had left the table-sized chunk of Vex stone behind. It was probably too heavy to be worth moving, even if it was inlaid with valuable gold and obsidian. "I don't like Vex architecture where it doesn't belong," the Hunter griped. She carefully picked her way across the room towards it.
The Ghost detached himself again to scan the object. This time Ikora did not dismiss the popup. Ophiuchus even floated over to examine the other Ghost's report on the strange artifact.
"It's clear who it was made for," Azra said, gesturing to the human-made panel integrated into the Vex stone. The Cult's eye-like symbol was painted in black. Instead of a pupil in the middle, there was a cutout fit for a very distinctive Ghost shell. "But why?" Azra asked. "And how?" The frown was audible on her voice. This was built for Sagira, specifically. Azra's Ghost would not fit in, nor would Ophiuchus.
"Well, Vance thought it would wake her up," Spark reasoned. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"Uh… it kills her?" Azra said incredulously.
There were a few moments of silence. Azra and Spark appeared to be having some internal debate. The Guardian put a hand up on the platform and tapped her fingers. Eventually she sighed and removed her hand. The camera swung down as the Hunter rummaged in an exterior pocket and pulled out the dull golden Ghost shell housing Sagira.
Azra placed the shell into the cutout, carefully arranging the magnetic bits to fit neatly into their places. "Stand back," Spark warned. "I'm going to turn it on."
The Hunter obligingly stepped backwards, pulling out her sidearm and bracing herself against a wall. Spark hit the artifact with a beam of light, made a dissatisfied noise, then hit it with another.
Several things flagged themselves for Ikora's attention. There was an increase in the background noise, an inaudible rumble that would be shaking the structure. Background EM readings spiked as well.
"Heartrate," Ophiuchus muttered. Ikora's eyes flicked over to the vitals readout and noted- yes, the Hunter's heartrate had jumped from 52 to 175 in the span of a few seconds.
A clattering noise sounded from Ikora's speakers. The Warlock glanced back over and noted with alarm that Azra wasn't even looking at the process in front of her- the camera was fixed on her sidearm laying on the ground. Had she dropped it? The video swayed drunkenly and the Hunter put a hand out to brace herself.
"What's happening?" Ikora asked. She received no answer. Nevertheless, the moment seemed to pass; the background rumble died off, the camera steadied a bit. There was a second of stillness.
But then Azra screamed, harsh and ear-piercing on the feed. The video jerked and blurred, the floor rushing up to meet the Hunter's helmet as the Guardian collapsed.