Silence.
That was what reigned in Kendrix's world. No jovial words of victory, no friendly beeps or whirs of metallic companionship, no pale thoughts of comfort. Not even the sound of static on his comms, though he knew they were open. He hated it, that silence. So he did to it what he seemed to do to everything he hated. He broke it.
"Oroa, I…," he began, struggling to find the right words. "...I'm sorry," was all he could settle on. Strange, he thought, since he wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for. Oroa seemed to know, though, and responded in kind.
"I hear your sorrow, little one," she spoke, her voice soft with knowing pain, clear as day even over the radio. "You harbor thoughts of pain and guilt that will not reward your kindness. Be done with them."
"But.. I lost control. I had no idea what I was doing. I could've hurt you, or even killed-"
"I said be done with them," Oroa interrupted with stern compassion. "I carry the Void in my heart, just as you do. I know its shape, the wonder and horror it can make. I know what it feels to have it swallow your wrath and spit out something worse. Do not torture yourself for its failings. You did what was needed, that is what matters. You should be proud."
Kendrix was silent, fear and guilt lashing and coiling across his thoughts. He felt a pale light grip them both and wrestle them to bed, his thanks to Proxima supplanting them.
"Besides," Oroa continued, a hint of endless vigor creeping into her tone. "The day may not yet be won. You must retain your focus while we contact our friends." Kendrix felt a soft ping as Oroa opened them up to a wider channel. "Trinity, Kendrix and I have dealt with our quarry. Do you require our assistance?" Her voice was dripping with pride at being the first to report in victory.
"Damn, even with the newbie you finished first," Trinity's slightly crackling voice replied with playful disappointment. "Unfortunately, we've got our bastard on the ropes, shouldn't be much longer. So you'll have to go play white knight somewhere else. Give Beckett a call, see if he needs your charity." Oroa let out a soft chuckle.
"As you say. Farewell for now, then." Oroa closed the channel, before smoothly switching to another. "Beckett, come in. What is your status?"
"Oroa, good to hear from you," the Exo Titan's voice replied, heavy with exertion. "You and Kendrix all wrapped up?"
"Yes, our target is down."
"Good. Mine's a bit tougher than anticipated. Don't suppose you'd mind swinging by and giving Apollo and me a hand?"
"We are on route," Oroa responded without hesitation.
"Good to hear. See you soon."
The flight to Becket's coordinates took only a few minutes. Kendrix wasn't sure exactly where they were headed at first, given it all looked like the same rusty tundra to him. Then he spotted the explosions.
Oroa must have seen them too, as she quickly pulled her jumpship into a sweeping dive towards the obvious conflict site. A nanosecond later and Nova was falling in next to her, keeping the formation with ease.
They appeared out of transmat and landed on the ground just in time to see Beckett's body go flying through the air and slam into a rusted-out car. The Exo grunted as the air was forced from his non-existent lungs, evidently stunning him. Kendrix rushed to the Titan's side, but he thankfully seemed largely unharmed.
"Focus, young-light," Oroa's stern yet joyful voice demanded of Kendrix. "Our attentions are needed elsewhere."
Kendrix turned quizzically to guess at the Titan's meaning, but upon seeing what she was looking at, he didn't need any explanation. Standing about fifty meters away from where the three of them stood was a machine unlike any Kendrix knew. The thing looked a little like a tank, but it was far too big and had far too many legs for that to be the case. Its scrappy, cobbled-together suggested a Fallen design, but did nothing to hinder the menace it mustered as it slowly thundered towards them on its six massive appendages, its cluster of eye-like lights glowing with detached spite.
"What the hell is that thing?!" Kendrix shouted in shock and no small amount of fear.
"A Fallen Walker," Beckett grunted as he pulled himself to his feet. "Now you see why I asked for backup."
The walker let out a roar that was somewhere between a metallic scream and a sonic boom, and some kind of armament mounted on its back began to glow a deep, hateful orange.
Realizing too late what the cannon was, Kendrix threw his hands up in front of his face in a pointless attempt for cover as the screaming fiery projectile came hurtling towards him. A moment later a thunderous explosion split his eardrums.
Much to his surprise, however, Kendrix didn't die. He slowly lowered his hands to see the burning half-crater imposed in front of him. And the translucent violet dome that had imposed itself between him and the walker.
He glanced to his left, where Oroa stood firm, knees bent and arms outstretched, growling with exertion as she held the shield aloft.
"We'll hold its attention here," Beckett said as he stepped up next to Oroa, fists crackling with electricity. "Kendrix, you loop around and flank it. See if you can take out any of its weapons, or maybe a leg or two. The sooner we cripple it, the sooner we can bring it down for good."
"I'm not sure I can-"
"Look, you'll be fine. These guys are tough, but if we coordinate we'll get the job done without any trouble, alright? Now move!"
Kendrix scrambled to do as he was told, sprinting to the right. He hadn't even considered that Oroa's barrier was still up, but fortunately it seemed to be selectively permeable, as he was able to walk right through it. He began to dodge and vault around and over the various bits of debris scattered in the field the walker had chosen for a stomping ground. Fortunately, the machine's ire was still firmly trained on the two Titans standing before it, and it showed no concern for the Warlock skirting around it, if it even saw him.
As Kendrix ran, he continually glanced at the walker, trying to pin down the location of any weapons systems or weak points, but even without being under fire it was difficult to determine anything with certainty.
There's the big Solar cannon on its back, and mounted on that is an Arc missile pod. It's also got a machine gun on its chin up front. Pretty standard loadout for these things, though it might have some other systems it hasn't taken for a spin yet. With the legs, joints are your best bet for taking them out.
Thanks for the tips, that's much easier.
It's what I do.
Kendrix weighed his options. Taking out the machine gun would require going back up front, exactly counter to what Beckett had ordered, so he quickly took that train of thought off the rails. The Solar cannon and accompanying missile pod were hard to miss, but he didn't love his odds of hitting them with a grenade at this distance, much less climbing up there and meleeing it, and he doubted bullets would do much. So he opted to go for the legs.
Deciding precision was more important than outright damage in this instance, he pulled his Duke out of its holster, held it with both hands, and fired a few shots at the middle leg. The first two clanged off of the walker's surprisingly durable armor, richoteing away to who knew where. The third hit its mark, though, piercing the leg's 'knee'. A loud hiss escaped into the air as the joint's seal broke, causing the walker to lurch towards him slightly as the leg started to buckle.
Suddenly the air around Kendrix was filled with blue shots, and he dove behind some debris to try and avoid them. The realization that there would naturally be other Fallen with the walker had somehow escaped him. As he glanced out from behind his cover, he saw why the Fallen had previously refused to notice him. Moving through their ranks with haphazard ruthlessness was a Guardian. Rifle in one hand and combat knife in the other, the Hunter, as his cloak suggested, dashed from dreg to dreg, cutting them down as best he could. At first Kendrix didn't recognize him, but then the details of the mission came back to him, and he realized he was looking at Apollo. The young Risen was now wearing a bright golden helmet, with two stylized bird wings sweeping up on either side of the headpiece. The flashiness of the armor seemed directly contradictory to the whole concept of a Hunter's stealth, but Kendrix was hardly a fashion expert so he tried not to judge.
With Apollo momentarily recapturing the Fallen's attention, Kendrix pushed out from behind his cover with his Khvostov in hand, spraying wildly in the hopes of catching as many of the aliens off guard as he could. The plan worked somewhat, and a number of the pirates turned to face him once again with hisses and clacking mandibles. Kendrix and Apollo moved towards each other, splitting the Fallen's attention and catching them in a pincer. When their swaths of death met, the two ducked down behind a pile of emptied oil barrels to take a breath.
"About time you showed up," Apollo grumbled as he snapped another magazine into his rifle.
"Sorry, I got all tied up almost dying at the hands of a wannabe Archon," Kendrix replied, making no effort to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"Surprised he gave you so much trouble, seeing as you handled the real deal just fine solo."
Kendrix grit his teeth but decided not to continue the bickering. There were more important things to do.
"We need to take down the walker." Apollo continued, either coming to a similar realization or just being satisfied with getting the last word.
"Beckett and Oroa are working on it."
"Yeah, well they're not going fast enough. Every second we waste here is another opportunity for the actual target to get away." Apollo glanced over their cover and blew the head off a dreg that had been sneaking towards them, then looked to the machine as it fired off a salvo of missiles. "I'm going for the big gun, cover me."
"What?!" Kendrix shouted incredulously, but the Hunter was already gone. He swung out from cover to watch as Apollo leapt up onto the walker's back leg, stabbing his knife into its knee to catch himself from falling, then scrambled up onto the walker proper as the leg started to collapse. Right as he reached the top, however, the walker whirled its missile pod around and blasted Apollo right in the chest, causing him to collapse.
"Shit," Kendrix muttered, leaping out from behind the barrels and sprinting towards the walker, ignoring the blue Arc shots peppering him as he did. He could see the missile pod charging up another volley as Apollo struggled to stand. Pushing himself harder, Kendrix jumped onto one of the walker's collapsed legs, pushing off towards the top in the same moment he landed. He couldn't jump high enough, but he willed himself to anyway.
Surprisingly, it worked. An unseen force carried him up into a glide, cresting over the walker's chassis just as the missiles targeted on Apollo began to glow a bright blue. Filling his hand with force, Kendrix slammed down on the weapon, crushing it like a tin can. It detonated in his face, nearly pushing him off the walker. Fortunately, he grabbed onto the edge of a metal plate at the last moment.
As Kendrix pulled himself back up, Apollo sprinted past, jumping towards the front of the walker. Kendrix watched in shock as the Hunter raised his hand to the sky, only for a pistol of golden flame to flare into reality in his palm. Apollo landed and jammed the golden gun into the segment connecting the walker's "head" to its main body, firing six shots in rapid succession.
The walker groaned, lurching side to side before collapsing fully with a low boom.
"Fuck yeah!" Apollo roared, turning his suddenly empty hand into a fist and pumping it triumphantly towards the cloudless sky.
As Kendrix watched the Hunter's celebration, he felt a sudden deep vibration as power surged through the walker below. He glanced down, only to see bolts of blue lightning flashing all across the dying machine's surface, building with a deep, angry hum. Realization struck Kendrix, and he jumped forward, shouting.
"Get down!"
He hit Apollo, shoving the other Guardian off of and away from the walker, seeing him hit the ground just as the Arc detonation erupted.
Kendrix awoke to the gaze of a single blue eye bathing him in white light.
"That was rather noble of you," Proxima said matter-of-factly, her voice a mixture of pride and exasperation. Kendrix groaned as he sat up. Reality caught up with him quickly.
"Where are the others?" he asked quickly, the edge of fear unmistakeable in his voice.
"In there," Proxima replied, bobbing towards a nearby structure. Kendrix pushed himself up and moved towards the building at a half-sprint, Proxima vanishing in a flash to accompany him.
When he got inside, however, Kendrix quickly realized his services were no longer required. Laying in the middle of the large, open room, was the burned and broken body of a large Fallen, clothed in the increasingly familiar garb of a Devil priest. Standing over it was Beckett, and the room was still crackling with whatever he had done to the aspiring Archon. Given what it had put in front of them, Kendrix couldn't find much sympathy for the deceased alien. Oroa and Apollo were standing at Beckett's sides as their leader huffed himself to calm. Then, he turned around and pulled off his helmet.
"Well, that went better than I expected. Good to see you up, Kendrix. Doing ok?"
"I think so," the young Warlock replied, rolling an aching shoulder as he did.
"Good. Trin, you still with us?"
"Aye-aye, captain," the Exo's voice replied over their commink. "I take it Wayway and I missed the fun?"
"'Fraid so. We'll rendezvous with you back at the Tower. We all did good work today, team. This calls for some celebration."
"Uh, thanks for the offer, but I think I'd rather just stay home," Kendrix said apologetically. He wasn't feeling very tired, surprisingly, but he still didn't think he'd enjoy "partying" with these Guardians very much.
"Not a chance, newbie," came Trinity's mischievous voice over the commlink. "You ride with the fireteam, you party with the fireteam. Them's the rules."
Kendrix looked to the others with desperation. Apollo seemed to have no interest in the conversation whatsoever, Beckett just gave him a smirk, and Oroa was enthusiastically holding two stiff thumbs up.
So it had come to this. He was forced to resort to his final escape route.
Help me.
Not a chance.
I was afraid you'd say that.
As it turned out, partying with this particular group of Guardians wasn't what he'd expected.
It was, in fact, much worse.
Things started an hour or so after they made it back to the tower. Each member of the team took some time to get cleaned up, deposit their loot, collect their bounties, and whatever other small errands the aftermath of a battle required. Kendrix took a shower, then contemplated hiding in his room until nightfall. Unfortunately, Proxima cheerfully told him that if he tried to duck out on this golden opportunity for social interaction, she'd transmat him off the edge of the Tower.
It was because of this that, some four hours later, he found himself sitting at the bar of a club deep in the heart of the City. He'd opted to keep wearing his armor, in part because it was the only nice clothes he had, and in part because his helmet was a refuge of privacy he refused to give up in such a public scenario. The team had started off the night by going to a noodle shop Trinity insisted was the best in the universe which, given the very limited scope of the current human population, Kendrix supposed could have been accurate. After sampling the ramen she convinced him to try, he had to admit to the other Warlock that the food there was phenomenal.
Once they'd had their fill and paid their tab (which Beckett had stubbornly refused to let Kendrix chip in on), they left the establishment to go to a place Trinity described as, "a real good time." Kendrix was finding it increasingly difficult to identify what sort of slang the Exo would and wouldn't use.
The club had maybe a dozen other patrons when they arrived, but given how things progressed Kendrix ultimately decided a smaller crowd was better. They started by ordering some drinks at the bar. Despite Trinity's pestering, Kendrix ultimately decided just to have a soda.
"Come on, you gotta try something!" the Exo insisted, her mouth flashing purple with glee.
"Sorry, I just… I don't think I drink."
The other Warlock gave him a thousand yard stare of disappointment before quietly muttering, "Dude, you are, like, zero fun."
"I thought a Warlock's mind was their weapon?" he said somewhat defensively, a little unnerved by someone with fantastic cosmic power losing control of their mental faculties. Trinity raised a single finger, and scrunched her face into an awkward, wizened expression.
"If some guy just carried his knife around in his hand twenty-four-seven, you'd call him insane. Sometimes, you gotta sheath the weapon," the Warlock said in a voice evoking decades of experience.
She then slammed another shot down her throat.
Deciding she was a lost cause, Kendrix moved on to observing the rest of the team. Apollo was at the far end of the bar, nursing a tall glass of beer. Beckett was sitting a few seats down from him, watching Trinity's antics with a quiet smirk on his face and a bottle in his hand. Even the uncannily reserved Wayland was partaking, standing in a corner and occasionally sipping from a silver flask he'd brought with him. When Kendrix had asked him about its contents, the Hunter had replied, "Wine of 40 Fruit" and said no more. If the liquor did anything to his mind, it never showed past his mask-like expression.
Of course, none of these individuals could compare to the storm of jubilation that was Oroa. Ale seemed to be the Titan's drink of choice, and she'd been downing tankard after tankard of the stuff ever since they'd arrived. She was currently sitting at one of the club's tables with a few of the other patrons. Even in their street clothes, Kendrix could tell at a glance that they were Guardians, given the ludicrously distinct senses of style. Oroa seemed to be telling them a story of some kind, although despite the fact that he could certainly hear her booming voice from where he sat, he could not make out the specifics.
So, deciding he had nothing better to do, Kendrix wandered over to the table to listen in on whatever tale his Titan friend was regaling them with. As he got closer and began to make out Oroa's words, however, he was surprised to find that he already knew this one.
"...and as the Devil took my throat into its hands, wringing the life from my broken body, he whispered to me in his foul tongue and smiled a smile full of fangs." Oroa related, her voice a conspiratorial whisper that just so happened to shake the rafters. "Then, when my vision began to fade and I thought all was lost, he came!"
Kendrix felt his nerves twitching as a flush crawled its way up his neck. Oroa continued on despite this, unaware he was even present.
"It was like nothing I'd ever seen. He fell like a violet thunderbolt upon the Fallen, casting the creature aside. He was the Void itself; when he moved, it moved, and when he struck, it struck. The Devil had no opportunity to retaliate, for after a single blow, it lay bloody and broken, its body forced into a crater of its own making. And when he returned to me and brought me to my feet, I caught a glimpse of the Devil, and the burning brand he had left in its heart."
Decidedly uncomfortable with this telling of events, Kendrix, against all his social instincts, spoke up.
"Oroa exaggerates. She did all the work in that battle. I just got a lucky hit on the big guy."
The Titan whirled around to face him, a smile splitting her face.
"Kendrix! So good to see you! I was just telling these good people about our heroic deeds!"
"So I heard," he replied with a wan smile hidden by his helmet.
"So you're this Brand kid, eh?" said one of the other patrons, a middle-aged woman with auburn hair and olive skin.
"Uh, it's Kendrix, actually. But, yeah?"
"Kendrix... you're the new one who killed Riksis?" said another of the Guardians, an elderly man with a thick white beard and fierce golden eyes.
"Uh, yeah."
"Your boasting skills need much practice, young-light," Oroa grumbled. "Humility is a noble virtue, but one ill-fitting to our people. You are a Guardian! Your deeds are your soul."
"Oroa has a point, kid. You've made quite a name for yourself already." said the woman.
"Yes. You'll be hard pressed to maintain such a reputation," the man added.
"I don't intend to." Kendrix replied frankly. "My luck will run out soon, and to be honest, I'm looking forward to just being another Guardian."
The woman scoffed and shook her head. "You sure know how to pick the strange ones, Oroa."
"He is strange, isn't he?" Oroa agreed with a drunken chuckle. She stood and clapped Kendrix on the back with enough force to shatter bone. "He calls himself a Warlock, but mark me, he has the blood of a Titan in him." She looked at Kendrix with a lopsided yet proud smile. The smile quickly changed to a mischievous grin, however, as her eye caught something past Kendrix's shoulder. "Now if you will excuse me, my friends, I have a lady to attend to." With that, the Titan swept herself off to the other end of the building.
Kendrix looked back to the other two Guardians, painfully aware that their attention was now focused solely on him.
"It was nice meeting you!" was all he managed to stammer out before quickly shuffling away back towards the bar. Once he got there, Kendrix sank onto the stool next to Beckett and sighed. The Exo chuckled and took a swig of his drink.
"I warned you, didn't I? About people telling your story."
"Yeah, I guess you did." Kendrix said, his eyes wandering wistfully. Beckett cocked his head at the young Guardian.
"Lemme guess. Still wound up about the Fallen?" Kendrix's eyes shot over to him.
"Oroa told you?"
"I'm team leader, kid. Field reports are part of the gig. Besides, not like you asked her to keep it a secret."
"...I guess."
"Look, you should take her advice. Stop beating yourself up over it. These powers we have… humans weren't designed to be able to do things like this. Deciding who you are with them, and who you want to be, takes time. And that's ok. Take it at your own pace, and you'll be just fine. Just don't get all guilt-ridden if something with them doesn't go the way you planned."
"It's just- I hate feeling out of control like that. I hate it. The thought that I might lose myself like that again, and hurt somebody, somebody who I don't want to hurt… it terrifies me. More than anything." Beckett gave a slow nod.
"I get that, it makes sense. That fear is a part of you, and you shouldn't ignore it. But you can't let it control you, either. It's your tool, not the other way around."
"I'll… try."
"All I ask. And if you want more practical advise, I suggest you talk to Trinity. We've all got the same Light, but the ways it shows up in Warlocks is particularly weird. She could give you some great pointers."
"She doesn't exactly strike me as a paragon of control," Kendrix said doubtfully, glancing to where Trinity was swinging herself around the dance floor with Oroa. The Warlock's loose, almost unbalanced movements showed little rhyme or reason, and sparks of Solar flame were continuously popping in and out of existence in the air around her. Despite this, Oroa seemed to keep perfect pace with her, and the Titan's footsteps shook the floor so much that Kendrix half suspected she was using the Void to empower her movements.
Beckett followed his gaze and chuckled again.
"Maybe not. But she still knows a lot, and would be happy to teach you what she can."
Kendrix watched as Oroa took Trinity by the hand and spun the Exo into a twirl, causing the sparks of fire to spin around them into loops of flame, before catching her in her arms. Trinity laughed as her fire danced in countless colors. A realization hit Kendrix, and he turned to Beckett for confirmation.
"Wait, are they…?"
"Officially? No. Neither of them has made any move on it yet. Personally, I think they're both still scared of rejection, even though they're sickeningly head-over-heels for each other. I hope they get on with it soon, though. This world of ours needs all the love it can get."
"Here here," Kendrix murmured. He watched the two Guardians dance for a while longer. Then their movements began to get more… intricate, and he suddenly discovered a far more interesting display in the grain of the floorboards.
"...annnnnnd we're getting handsy." Beckett said with a matter-of-fact sigh. "I better go calm them down before they do something they'll regret. Watch my drink, will you?" The Titan stood and moved out onto the dance floor, trying to reach his imbalanced friends before they became too public with their affection.
Kendrix watched him go for a moment, but his attention was quickly diverted as someone else slid into Beckett's vacated seat. Kendrix turned to greet the new arrival, but quickly stopped.
It was Apollo.
The Hunter stared at Kendrix, his gaze unsteady and his eyes bloodshot. He snatched up Beckett's bottle and drank the rest of it in one swig, never breaking eye contact with Kendrix. It would've been very uncomfortable if it wasn't so comedic-looking. Apollo slammed the empty bottle back onto the bar and sighed.
"You and I have a score to settle, greenie."
"I don't know what-" Apollo slammed the bottle again.
"Don't play dumb with me! You stole my kill with Riksis, you forced your way onto my fireteam, and you… you… you fucking saved me in the battle today! You… you owe me." Kendrix's discomfort was outstripped only by his complete and utter confusion. Apollo bent down to cough and retch for a moment, then grabbed Kendrix by the collar. "Tomorrow. High noon. You, me, Crucible. One on one, no holding back. We settle this." Kendrix just stared at him. Evidently, that wasn't the response Apollo was looking for, as he growled and shook Kendrix by the collar. "Hey, you deaf or something?!"
"Fine, Apollo. Alright, alright." The Hunter nodded his head and let go of Kendrix, muttering to himself as he shuffled back to his stool.
Can I go home now?
Yeah, I think that was our cue.
Kendrix glanced around and, seeing that Beckett was still occupied, went to the only other person present who didn't seem to be a drunken mess.
"Hey uh, Wayland?" Kendrix called out as he approached, giving the blue-skinned Hunter a small wave. The man looked at him, but otherwise gave no response. "I'm gonna head back to the tower for the night… mind letting Beckett know next time you get a chance?" The Hunter took a long draught from his flask, then gave a slow, methodical nod. "Ok. Uh, thanks. Have a good night." Wayland gave no reply, so Kendrix just turned and walked out of the club. It was dark outside now, and the night air was crisp and refreshing, a welcome change from the stifling celebration of the bar.
What is a Crucible, anyway?
It's the battle arena where Guardians go to train against each other. Some of them take it very, very seriously. And since death is a temporary measure, people tend to go all out.
Oh. Joy.
The walk back to the Tower was a fairly long one, so Kendrix used his Light to speed things up, jumping from place to place and letting himself glide down long spans of street. The ability took some getting used to, but he found he quite enjoyed it. It was like the Sparrow, in a way, though admittedly far less intense. He didn't see any other people out on the roads, but he could see plenty of lights in the windows of the many buildings scattered and stacked about, and would occasionally spot a silhouette moving around inside one.
The City was such a strange place. The last home of humanity, constantly being pushed to the brink of destruction by alien forces beyond mortal comprehension. And yet, through it all, it was still so certainly and proudly human. There was a warmth in its tiny lights, in the mosaic of souls that shaped it and one another, in the soft silence imparted on it. Not even the ominousness of the great sphere hanging above him could alter that. He found it comforting. He felt as though he was going to like it here.
Kendrix reached the base of the Tower some fifteen minutes later, and after Proxima passed their clearance to the security frame, he was allowed to enter. He walked over to one of the elevators and, after waiting a minute or two, stepped inside one as its doors slid open. He pressed a button and stood there for a moment, waiting for the doors to close and the machine to begin rising. After a few seconds, the doors began to slide closed. Just before they did, however, someone else darted into the elevator.
She was a Guardian, that much was obvious. Her clothes were mostly black, including the long hooded cloak that covered her shoulders and back, with tendrils of dark emerald and amethyst coiling about it all like ivy. Her helmet was a pale white with an onyx, triangular faceplate.
She stood next to him, staring straight ahead, with no motion, no voice. And just when the silence had stretched long enough to become uncomfortable, she spoke, in a voice barely above a whisper.
"I know you lied."
Kendrix tensed, then glanced at her. She didn't so much as look at him.
"About Riksis," she continued. "About how he died." There was no accusation in her voice, just blank, cold certainty. "No new Guardian could have done what you claim you did. And when I find proof, they will never trust you again."
The elevator came to a stop with a ding, and as the doors slid open the woman stepped out into the dark hallway beyond. She glanced over her shoulder, back at Kendrix, who was frozen to the spot in shock.
And the doors slide shut between them.