Cerulean stood before a massive pit on the Moon, gazing down to the thick, swirling white for that obstructed their view of the bottom.
"This is it," Franz said.
"Today, Crota falls," Rorick said, going back to the hive plate they had passed to get a look into the pit itself. "I don't know what will happen. I'll stand on the place, but I need the rest of you to stand back and cover me. Be prepared for anything."
The plate began to glow under his boots and Wren tensed, ready for Hive to pour from the rocks around the top of the ridge, to force them down the slope and into the abyss. Instead, a pale green mist swirled over the pit as a bridge began to form, solidifying into a stone path that extended halfway over the opening.
"Ladies first." Franz joked, giving Sisre a playful nudge.
"I'd throw you in," she replied with a tilt of her helmet.
"I'll go," Rorick said.
Flak took a step back as Rorick dropped and Wren took the opportunity to outdo him in any small way and jumped after their leader. She could hear Beorn and Franz arguing over who would go next, but Wren was preoccupied with the drop.
"She felt almost weightless despite being pulled downward. It wasn't quite like gravity, but more like being pushed along by a stream. Below she could see Rorick and soon the light of the fog faded and turned to darkness, sparks of light only flashing by here and there like fireflies.
"Jump! Rorick warned and she boosted to land lightly on a stone plate a few feet from him. It was lit by a circle of four pillars, but the light didn't extend far into the darkness. He Rorick gave the same warning to the others as they neared and meanwhile Wren walked to the edge of the plate where the darkness was like a wall. Water reflected what little illumination the pillars gave, and the space was dead silent. It was like death, only she knew she wouldn't find Cayde here.
"I see light," Beorn said and Wren turned to see him motioning toward a lantern. Without a gauge for distance, Wren couldn't tell its size of how far away it was. "Can I assume it leads the way?"
"Seems a bit convenient," Sisre said.
"Perhaps, but it looked like our best bet," Rorick said. He took one step outside the circle only to pause at the familiar shrieks and scrambling of Thrall.
Cerulean ran for the lantern, Thrall closing in on them. Every step in the darkness made Wren feel heavier, like her boots were weighted with lead. They neared the lantern and it continued to get bigger until Wren realized it was nearly ten feet tall. As she sprinted up to it she became lighter and within a few feet of it, the lantern became brighter.
She turned and fired into the mass of Thrall though there appeared to be no end to them. Where one fell, two more surged from the shadows. Cerulean fought back in the false security the light offered until it began to shift to red.
"That can't be good," Franz said.
"Run for the next one," Rorick demanded and Cerulean took off toward the next lantern now visible in the distance. The one behind them exploded, sending pieces flying past Wren where she had fallen behind the rest of her fireteam.
Thrall were hot on her heels from one lantern to the next. Cerulean was unable to kill enough Thrall while waiting for the weight of the darkness to leave them and the flood of them kept coming.
Wren was beginning to think they'd been lured here as a trap. They would never escape. Cerulean would spend the rest of their lives in the darkness, fighting an ocean of Thrall from lantern to lantern until they ran out of ammo or worked themselves into exhaustion when the Thrall would be free to rip them limb from limb. Death. Entrapment. Would Cayde be there? Without being able to revive, there would be no "home" for him to lead her back to.
She'd lost track of how many lanterns they'd passed. The path to the next was longer than the others and her taller teammates put distance between themselves and her before the weight began to affect them. Wren, however, was already feeling the weight pulling her down. Her knees began to buckle and before she knew it, she was falling.
The pit had barely been a shadow in the near complete darkness and she landed at the bottom with a sharp crack of her ankle. She cried out as she fell over, the Better Devils skittering away from her. Despite pain shooting through her leg she scrambled on her hands and knees, collapsing only once the hand cannon was safely in her grasp once more.
Above, Thrall rushed around the mouth of the pit, no longer concerned with her. She tried to climb out of the pit but the walls were slick and damp with nothing she could use as hand holds. Still, she hobbled around the circle, wincing whenever the toes on her injured leg touched the ground.
"Rorick," she said. "Can you hear me?"
His voice came back over comms but it was distant and broken.
"Where are you?"
"I fell in a pit. I can't get out."
"What?" his voice crackled.
"I heard her," Flak said and Wren's heart dropped.
"I don't trust that," Kiran said.
Soon the light on Flak's gun shone down on her, blinding her temporarily.
"Do you have rope or something?" she asked.
"Nope," he said and she could hear the dark smile in his voice.
"Stop aiming that gun at me. I can't see."
"How do you think I'm going to get you out?"
Wren paused. Surely, he didn't intend to kill her. What if he did and just claimed to never have found her? She'd be trapped in the darkness forever. He fired the first shot and it hit to the left of her with the ping of a ricochet. Bits of stone crumbled over her shoulder and she moved away.
"Don't!" she cried out. "Sisre! Beorn!"
"They're too far and can't hear you. Now shut up and stand still."
Wren closed her eyes tight, the shot rang out, and there was darkness. She wasn't there long enough for Cayde to make an appearance. Instead, she fell through to land on her feet at the top of the pit. Flak wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close.
"Get off," she growled, pushing against him.
"Did you find her?" Rorick's voice came over comms and Flak jerked back, letting Wren go. The signal was still broken and riddled with static, but Wren had never been so glad to hear her fireteam leader before.
"I'm out," she replied before Flak could speak. She looked around, then saw the flashes of gunfire far off. "I'm coming."
Darkness settled in on her but despite her boots feeling heavier with every step, she pushed onward toward the safety of her team, Flak trailing behind. She could hear his heavy breathing clearly walking this close to him and it made her cringe.
"Are you alright?" Beorn asked as she finally caught up with them, the weight lifting from her as she made it to the lantern. She nodded and helped them fight off the Thrall.
They had found the end. The lanterns weren't, in fact, a ploy to lure them in and trap them for all eternity. There was a plate glowing white under Rorick and Sisre, their backs to a cavernous expanse where a bridge was forming as it had before they'd dropped into this light forsaken place.
Far off in the distance was a hallway, impossibly tall, with broken pillars that faded into blinding light. They held off the Thrall until the bridge formed and Rorick gave them the signal to run. There would be no clearing this place. The Thrall would only continue on endlessly so they gave in and fled across the bridge, scrambling claws clattering on the bridge behind them.
Wren could hardly see as they sprinted into the light. The other members of her fireteam became mere blobs of shadows, blurred as they ran for the unknown at the end of the hallway. As she ran the light became brighter until it was all consuming and with one final step she felt as if she was being pulled into somewhere else. She held her breath and closed her eyes, then her feet touched solid ground again and the rushing feeling stopped.
Franz stumbled forward onto the platform; the blinding light gone. They had been teleported, taken somewhere else. A room so vast it was like being outside. The structures here were like Hive built castles, complete with wide, sweeping balconies, staircases, and spires.
Down on the floor in front of them were three plates, each glowing with a pale white circle of light. One was closest to another drop off and if it was as the ones before, it would form a bridge to the other side. The other two on either side of the room sat under floating black masses that dripped onto the floor below.
The two plates on the sides weren't like the one to build the bridge. The liquid that dripped from the floating pillars above seemed to absorb into a swirling liquid mass under a glasslike surface.
Rorick descended the stairs and made his way cautiously to the bridge plate and stood on it, but nothing happened.
"Franz, Beorn, go to the left side plate. Wren, Flak, go to the right. Sisre and I will stay here. Keep on those plates and we'll see if we can get this bridge to form."
Wren gritted her teeth and clutched the Better Devils as tightly as she could before accepting Rorick's orders. She stood on the swirling plate, feeling a sense of icy cold emanating from it. The chill penetrated her armor and sent chills down her spine.
Once they were in place, the bridge plate began to glow and they knew they were on the right path. Until the scream echoed from the stairs toward the back of the room where they had come from. More Thrall.
"Stay on your plates," Rorick demanded. "When the bridge is formed I'll go over alone and scout the way."
The Thrall here were more manageable and soon Rorick said the bridge was formed and he would cross. It wasn't until he took his first step onto the bridge and Sisre called out his name, did Wren realize anything was wrong. She turned to see Rorick had dropped dead at the start to the bridge. Sisre was barely able to reach out from the plate and lend him her Light to revive and when he rose it took him a moment to orient himself.
"There must be something else," he said as he took his place on the plate once more, staring across the expanse as Sisre held their ground.
"Ro, look," Franz said pointing toward the steps at the rear of the room where a Swordbearer had emerged from the shadows, glowing sword held aloft. "Think that has something to do with it?"
"Perhaps," Rorick mulled, then ordered Sisre to stay put as he went to defeat the Knight. The sword hovered in the air over its owners' ashes instead of burning like most of them did and Rorick took the sword in his hand. He approached the bridge once more, sword clutched tight and with a deep breath he put his boot on the bridge.
Nothing happened. He exhaled and wasted no time sprinting across the bridge to the other side.
"What do you see?" Beorn asked.
"There are plates here as well," Rorick answered, his comm crackling a bit. "I believe we have to send one person over at a time to stand on these and keep the bridge open. Wait, there's a Gatekeeper."
Wren could faintly hear the distinct sound of a Hive sword slamming into the Gatekeeper until Rorick claimed the Knight was dead and the sword was turned to ash. It was decided that Beorn would go across next, followed by Flak. The three of them would hold the bridge open while Sisre, then Wren, then Franz would cross and they could advance.
"I hate that this feels like a game," Franz grumbled.
"I think I prefer games that don't have death as a penalty," Beorn said.
"There's a Swordbearer," Sisre said, breaking out her sniper to help Beorn down the Knight and take the sword.
They continued this way until the first three were across and on their plates. Sisre was getting ready to go when Rorick told her to stop. Two Ogres had burst through the doors and they weren't able to remain on their plates as they fought. Flak held ground against the Thrall while Sisre and Wren used their sniper and scout rifles to shoot at the Ogres from afar.
Wren was certain her scout wasn't doing nearly as much as needed to be helpful, but she didn't want to sit back and watch as Rorick and Beorn were pushed back by an Ogre's blinding purple eye blast. They killed the Ogres, regained their plates, and the bridge began to form once more. Only now, the room had gone quiet. The Thrall ceased to spawn though the Swordbearers kept coming, slower now.
The last of them passed over the bridge and they took a moment to reload their weapons and allow their Ghosts to give them the best first aid they could manage in such dense Darkness. Wren checked the throwing knives at her belt and noticed a new rip in her cloak, right along the bottom hem where a Thrall's claws had caught her. And a bullet hole. Was that from Flak? Her stomach soured but Rorick called them to move and she did.
Cerulean raced through the next hallway, hardly touching the ground except when necessary. Rorick's rockets whistled through the enclosed space and into the blazing purple "eye" of Shriekers as below the Thrall and Cursed Thrall were so thick, the floor was barely visible.
Wren leapt from broken pillar to stone to wall to avoid them, taking a few shots at Cursed Thrall to set off explosions, killing Thrall close to them. The others were doing the same as well as dodging or trying to outrun the death blasts given off by the Shrieker.
Flak had run ahead and managed to slide through a door that was closing and wedge it open. The others followed, hoping to take refuge from the last death blast and being presently surprised to find a chest.
"Well, would you look at that," Franz said as Sisre pried the chest open. "Even cowards can be useful."
Flak raised a fist to hit Franz, who accepted the challenge by stepping up on him only for Rorick to put an arm between them.
"Enough. If you have a problem, you can handle it in the Crucible," Rorick said. "I don't have time to deal with this childish behavior."
Flak and Franz continued to stare each other down for a solid five seconds before Flak scoffed and walked away.
This chest, like the one they had encountered before, was full of Guardian gear. Ammo, rusted weapons, trashed armor, Glimmer, and parts of dead Ghosts. Cloaks, daggers, grenades, trip mines, boots with the soles ripped off, all littered the floor as Sisre pulled everything from the chest.
Cerulean divided the equipment they wanted and left the rest. Wren only wanted the daggers and ammo, though she felt guilty for leaving the poor, empty Ghost shells. Still, she had no way to carry them all back. Her fingers gently brushed one of them and Beorn put a hand on her shoulder.
"It's time to go," he said.
Wren stood and watched as Sisre put the last of the Glimmer into a pouch at her hip to be split as soon as they were back to the Tower. She toyed with one of the daggers, then dropped one that was too rusty before Rorick led them back into the fray.
A massive lighting feature hung over a pit and had it not been Hive made and dripping some strange substance, Wren would have said it was impressive. They dropped into the pit and landed knee deep in the puddle of whatever was dripping from the chandelier. It was thick, black, and slightly sticky.
Wren stepped out of it and it slid off her boots and back into the pool, as if it had a mind of its own. She shuddered and caught up with the rest of her team, falling in behind Beorn.
"Oh, I hate that," Franz said as they walked through the doorway to the open space beyond that Wren couldn't rightfully call a room.
They seemed to be standing on a ground floor, of sorts, with stairs curving behind them on either side, leading up to an open second floor that surrounded the first. The ceiling was missing, opening up to an expanse similar to the room with the bride.
All of this was quick, secondhand observation as the first thing they noticed was what loomed over them. Overhead something burned in the distance like a gigantic eye, watching them. A shiver ran down her spine and she gripped the Better Devils close.
Two Knights emerged from either side, near the stairs, and charged at them but were quickly taken down. They made their way to the second level, Rorick ordering them to split up and kill the Knights that had emerged in towers to either side before they would regroup and explore more of this seemingly dead end.
Behind the center, opposite the eye, was some sort of glass chamber with a jagged black rock. Wren could hardly see it through the grime of the glass.
"It looks like that middle area is closed off," Rorick said. "Sisre, take Wren and Beorn to the other side and see if you can enter that doorway over there.
Sisre nodded and led her half of Cerulean to the left side of the room where the doorway was indeed open. The complex of rooms was rather small and from left to right side seemed to have three identically sized areas with the middle area blocked by green flames, swirling like they were in an invisible wall. Wren could see the other half of the team in the room opposite them.
The middle of the room they had been sent to investigate had a pillar in the dead center with rows of lights up the sides. Hallowed Knights charged in and the three of them made short work of them when a scream from behind made them back up and retreat to the door.
Where Wren had been standing before, a Wizard now floated, shimmering black mist surrounding her.
"Do you guys have a Wizard?" Franz said.
"Sure do," Sisre said, tossing an Arc grenade into the Wizard's chest when she finally flew free of the mist. Wren dodged behind the pillar while Beorn took the high ground and found a suitable place on an outcropping over a door.
"Ours is down," Rorick announced.
"Yeah, yeah," Sisre said, firing a few more shots before the Wizard fell into ash. Immediately after a small rift opened and a Shrieker took the Wizard's place. "Shit," Sisre grumbled.
"Kill the Shriekers," Rorick ordered. "I'll put a bubble in the middle of the top platform. When you kill it, take cover there."
"Rodger," Beorn said, hopping down from his place as the Shrieker concentrated fire on him. "You know, maybe I need a rocket launcher."
"What, so we can have two trigger happy rocketeers running around?" Sisre said while Wren backed up beside her, the two of them combining their shots with the scout rifles.
"I am not trigger happy," Rorick corrected. "I use my rockets conservatively. They don't just appear when I need them, you know."
The Shrieker exploded and Sisre's half of the team ran for Rorick's bubble, Wren falling behind only to slide in at the last second before the Shriekers' death blasts could light up the surface of the bubble in splashes of energy. They didn't remain in the bubble long, however, as Beorn pointed out that he could see through the dingy glass, the flames that had created the barrier into the room with the black rock, were gone.
"Keep together," Rorick said, leading them into the complex once more. Knights swarmed in, swords swinging in wide, broad strokes. It was as if they were trying to herd the fireteam into the middle and soon Wren realized why.
A Wizard waiting for them there, but no normal Wizard. Her appearance was more like Omnigul; her size being slightly larger than an average Wizard and with the tall horns that protruded from her head. Spikes and blood adorned her robes and the instant she saw the Guardian's she began to sing, her eerie voice more an unintelligible scream with the faint memory of what humans considered a song. Still, the sound pierced into Wren's very bones.
"I remember data about her from Eris Morn," Brix saif. "She is Ir Yut, the Deathsinger. Kill her before she can finish the song or you're all done for!"
"How long do we have?" Rorick asked, loading a rocket while his team started in on the Deathsinger.
"That isn't in the data."
"Of course," Rorick replied coolly. "Wren, is that Golden Gun ready?"
"Yes."
"Good. Right after the rocket, I want you to hit her with it. Make it good."
"Right."
Wren crouched and moved closer, only stepping out once the rocket exploded against the Wizard, knocking her back toward the jagged black rock. Still her voice didn't stop. Not even when Wren got her shots off with the Golden Gun and once the warmth of the Solar weapon left her, she felt a cold she hadn't noticed before. A subtle but growing buzzing settled in her ears and all she could hear clearly was the song of the Deathsinger.
Was this is? Was her song about to conclude? How would it kill them? She couldn't help but consider the irony. A lullaby to death.
Ir Yut wasn't given the chance to finish her song. It was broken by a scream as a bullet from Sisre's sniper rifle ripped through her neck, nearly decapitating her before her body burned away, scattering on the surface of the rock.
When they were able to get closer, Wren realized it was like the rock they had encountered before when the Wizards attempted to summon Crota. It pulsed with a sickly green color from within and the closer she got to it, the heavier she felt. However, when Beorn touched its smooth surface, it reacted to him, glowing slightly brighter with his touch.
"What next?" Franz asked.
"This rock must do something," Beorn said.
Franz approached him and the rock glowed a bit more. "Maybe we should stand close to it."
"Sounds like a trap," Flak said.
"What, too chicken to touch a rock?"
Flak huffed and put his hand to the cold black surface. The others joined and the floor began to rumble under their boots. Outside of the barriers that had once again blocked them from the other rooms, Hive were forming groups. It was only a matter of time before those barriers would fall and the hoard would be upon them.
"Get up high," Rorick demanded and the team took places on the deep doorframes Beorn had gone earlier.
A blinding flash of light caught Wren off guard and she shielded her eyes, blinking against it to see a dark figure had materialized outside at the far end of the area. Crota? She couldn't be sure. The barriers dropped and chaos ensued as Cerulean killed every Hive that rushed them.
"It's him," Rorick said. "We have to get back outside."
They ran through the left room and out into the open where they got their first look at Crota. Opposite them, between two golden horns that rose from the far end of the higher platform, framing the "eye" that watched them, was a Hive Knight, emanating a bright green light. A sword hung heavy in his right and the left reached out to point at them.
This was it. He was coming for them. But it chilled Wren for a different reason. It was difficult to look at the Hive and see them as anything more that shambling insects, attacking with no regard for their own safety, but this… all of this, was a sign of their intelligence.
The Deathsinger, Omnigul, Crota… there was more to the Hive and Wren had simply missed it. They wouldn't be underestimated again.
"Hey, we got Boomers," Franz said.
"Wren, Sisre, Beorn, take them down," Rorick ordered, his faceplate still staring dead ahead at Crota. He loaded a rocket and shot it into the Hive Knight, but he only laughed, a crackling guttural sound that made Wren feel uneasy. Rorick helped the rest of the team kill the Boomers, keeping an eye on Crota, who didn't seem willing to move from his position. Was he sizing them up?
The familiar scream of a Wizard caught their attention, and she began attacking them before they could react. Wren dodged to the side, a bolt of energy slammed her thigh and sent her rolling away. A few headshots from Sisre's sniper rifle and the Wizard was down. Wren nodded to Sisre and leapt up, running to jump the distance between the platform where they stood, over the stairs, to the left side tower.
"I'm going to keep an eye out for more Wizards," she said, trying to ignore the dull pain in her leg.
"Ro, we have a Swordbearer down there," Franz said.
"Go kill it. Flak, assist him."
The Hunter and Warlock dropped from the platform to follow orders. It didn't take them long to drop the Swordbearer but Wren couldn't see them from where she stood.
"Ro," Franz called up. "The Swordbearer's sword is just…. Floating here. What do you want me to do with it?"
"Leave it," Rorick replied, jumping down and out of sight.
Wren, Beorn, and Sisre took aim on Crota, unsure of what was about to happen.
Rorick took up the sword and ordered them to fire on Crota to distract him. They did and it worked. Crota raised his sword and began to stalk toward them. His body began to glow brighter, and Wren could swear some of his armor began to crack. He took a few more steps, then dropped to one knee, supporting his weight on his sword as Rorick snuck around behind the jumped onto the platform and slammed the blade into Crota's back.
Repeatedly he attacked Crota until at last the Knight had enough and backhanded Rorick with a mighty roar. Rorick stumbled back, dropping his sword which skittered over the edge before he could fall off the platform into shadows.
"Flak, go get him," Sisre demanded and Flak was gone, arching wide to the right on the lower floor to find Rorick. Hive poured in on them, pushing them back toward the room they'd come from.
"I found him," Flak said. "He's up but dazed."
"I think Crota's shields are damaged again," Sisre said. "Grab that sword and get ready to attack!"
Flak went silent a moment, then gave a weak confirmation. Wren threw a grenade from the left side tower, drawing Crota's attention to her before jumping down to her team. Crota pursued, swinging his sword down in a powerful strike that shook the ground under Wren's feet.
Shards of the platform exploded in all directions with the force of the hit, a gouge not split in the stone, tiles shattered in jagged pieces that dripped away from the blade as he rose it again.
"Get him down!" Sisre yelled and Wren turned on her heel, firing the Better Devils into Crota's face. He raised the sword again and Wren knew she was too close. She kept shooting until the hammer clicked and nothing happened. The sword began to fall toward her and she boosted back away from him as one of the Warlock's grenades exploded against his throat. The momentum of the sword suffered as Crota dropped to his knees.
Wren reloaded her hand cannon as Flak ran forward, sword in hand. He got a swing or two in before dropping down below and Wren gritted her teeth. Coward! He wasted precious time! Crota's claws tore at the floor as he raised himself once more, heavy feet pushing against the stone to lunch at Cerulean. They barely had time to retreat to the room with the black stone before they realized that for whatever reason, he couldn't follow them.
Like a lion in a cage, he paced the doorway, emitting strange noises from deep in his throat. He limped side to side, yelling things in the Hive tongue that none of them could understand.
"Go out the other side," Rorick said. "I have the sword but I need backup down here. Wren, get down here. I'm sending Flak back."
"Me?" Wren questioned.
"You've destroyed Crota's sword before. You have experience with them and I need you."
"I'm coming."
Cerulean followed out the right-side doorway. Wren took the stairs down, hearing Flak boosting onto the upper platform, avoiding her path. Good. He should be ashamed. She found Rorick standing beside a boulder in the rear of the space, sword in hand.
"I just need you here incase something happens like before," he explained. "Flak panicked. I need to know that you won't as well."
Wren thought about death. So far it had always been quick, nearly painless. And Cayde was there… for some reason that took most of the fear out of it. Though that in itself made her feel like running…
"Wren?"
"Sorry, I was listening. No, I won't panic."
"Good. Now cover me. I'm going to jump up and wait for them to stagger him again."
"He's limping."
Rorick nodded. "I saw his armor crack before he hit me. I don't know how much damage Flak was able to do, but I can't imagine it was much. Do you have that Golden Gun ready?"
"Not yet. It's been slow in here."
"Too much Darkness maybe… Don't worry about it. I'll put a bubble here for you to go through." He jumped onto the boulder and looked over the edge, watching as Wren picked off smaller Hive that she could see from her position. "Be ready," he said, popping the bubble, then he bolted over the edge.
Wren could hear his sword slamming into Crota, then an enraged roar that set her teeth on edge. Suddenly her comm was full of yelling, everyone talking over one another in chaos. She boosted to the top of the boulder to see for herself what was going on.
Rorick had stayed too long, trying to get another swing in on Crota before he rose, but the injured Hive Knight wasn't about to give up easily. Something had happened, though she wasn't sure about the details, it wasn't necessary to know. Rorick was dead and Crota was crushing his body into the stone platform, his roar casting saliva onto Rorick's corpse. The sword had dropped nearby but it was too close to Crota for her to grab.
Crota was severely injured. His back was split open, his fused armor splitting and breaking off in chunks. Rorick had been able to deal a great amount of damage, and Wren wasn't surprised. The swords themselves were powerful and destroying the Princes with one had been enough to show Wren what they were capable of. In Rorick's hands, it was even more deadly. He could apply force Wren couldn't, but she was still willing to try.
"Get him out of here!" Wren said, cutting through the arguing voices of her teammates. Franz still cursed and muttered but the others did well to stop yelling over one another. "We can still beat him. Get him out of the middle, down him, and I should be able to grab the sword and get him while his back is turned.
"I'm going for the Ogre," Beorn said and she saw him round the corner into the complex of rooms through the left doorway. "We need the area for when he comes after us."
The others drew Crota forward where he dropped Rorick's broken body to the lower level where Wren could no longer see him. Her stomach threatened to spew its contents into her helmet, and she felt the nervous desire to run for the sword. She held onto the top of the platform so tightly that her fingertips throbbed. Her eyes were wide, her heart pounding in her ears until at last she saw Crota stumble. Before he could hit the floor, she was over the edge of the platform, sliding in to grab the sword before boosting high over Crota. She focused all of her energy into the first slam which hit as soon as Crota's knee touched the floor.
His body cracked and groaned, splintered and crunched under the blade and the feeling sent shock waves through Wren's bones. As she continued to swing furiously into his back he began to crumble and Cerulean spoke over each other once more about focusing fire on something in the sky above her. Whatever it was, each shot effected Crota. His body lurched and the intimidating roar turned into a deep gurgling sound.
A flash of blinding green light illuminated the area and Wren felt Crota crumble under the final sword strike. She fell to the marred platform where his body had been, the sword she'd carried disintegrating. Wren blinked away the spots in her eyes and when she was certain that she wasn't in any danger, she fell onto her back, sprawled out and panting. Adrenaline raced through her, her heartbeat against her rib cage like it wanted to explode out of her chest, and the distinct taste of bile tinged her mouth.
Beorn and Franz celebrated as Sisre went to revive Rorick. Wren closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. They'd done it. She'd done it. Crota was dead. Wren smiled to herself and listened to her team talk about what this meant for the City.