Foreword: Already seeing people getting excited about this, which makes me feel warm and happy inside. Something I'll warn about upfront now: there may be more characters from both Destiny and Doom showing up- largely from the former- and they may be depicted somewhat differently than you might expect. Everything is being distorted through the lens of the narrative I'm writing here, and will be made to fit that framework. Special shout-out, by the way, to Dontus Powerus over on FF Dot Net, for his review, doing a pretty decent breakdown on the differences between my Slayer and THE Doom Slayer. Actually the kind of stuff I appreciate, since it will help highlight some areas that I may have to address.


CHAPTER 2: GOD SEND DEATH

Rega-7 rolled off of the girder where she'd been perched, dropping onto a Cabal Phalanx and plunging her knife into the join between its helmet and the neck-seal of its armor. Pressurized oil sprayed out of it, and the Cabal clutched at its neck with its free hand before slumping onto its face. She yanked the knife free and hurled it toward another Phalanx's shield, hitting it square in the center, collapsing its energy barrier. It had a moment to panic and try to get it working again before she got her sniper rifle up and drilled a bullet through its faceplate.

"I'm out of position," Rega warned the rest of the Guardians at Skyline. "Can't see how many they may still be sending. Anyone have eyes on?"

"We can hold out as long as we need to." This was from Reese, the other team's Titan. He emerged from around a corner, bodily driving a Colossus back with his Burning Maul, then smashing in its helmet. He turned to her. "It's just Cabal, and Red Legion remnants besides."

Rega shook her head. "Wahei said they have a Flayer on hand. That's a little more than usual. Besides that, they also have a carrier out there. Eventually they'll just turn their guns on us, and a carrier can just delete this entire building from existence." She tossed a grenade down the hall Reese had emerged from, sending a squadron of Legionaries and their Psion diving for cover.

The comm crackled. "Tower to all Guardians at Skyline. Mahal here. We've made contact with Imperial forces at the Scablands. Their firebase there is prepared to lend assistance."

"Glad to hear it, Tower," Rega reported back. "Soon as they can send it, the better."

"Hold fast, Guardians. It may take a few minutes for them to mobilize."

The Titan squared his shoulders. "You heard 'em, squad," he called to his fireteam. "Just do what we do best until backup gets here."

There was another ping on the comm. "Wahei to all Lights." Her voice had an odd note to it, to Rega's ear. There was something like awe in her voice. "Flayer is down. And we have backup already."

The Hunter blinked. "...Backup? Who?"


Creature. Weapon. Threat.

Grabbed strange alien. Breathed in its measure. Scent of knowledge, oblivion, petrichor. But also of rot, malice, acid. Green glow in creature's eye, overriding a natural orange. One who had been mind-stained by the Enemy.

Tainted. Turned. Puppet.

Began to squeeze creature's throat. Felt it scrabble at the grip, screaming defiance. Saw its eye bulge with hatred and power. Its hand lashed out and touched helmet.

Pressure. Headache. INTRUSION.

Flashes of pain and torment. Of knives carving into flesh. Heat searing over nerves. A scream of fury in the mind. Did not matter. Pain would not stop this. All things of the Enemy must die.

Choke. Squeeze. Tighten.

Creature's head loose. Pressure abating. Lingering pain, but can ignore. Dropped body and took in area. Interior, like the old labs. Worn and exposed to elements. Grit of sand beneath feet. Breathed in its measure.

Person. Nearby. Stranger?

Woman with purple skin. Swathed in robes with amulets and beads, a waxen charm hanging from a belt, a leather-bound journal. Scent of oblivion, curiosity, grim knowledge. Memory flickers.

Scholar. Lightbearer. Ally.

Scholar was chattering, looking where portal had been. Weaving a web of beaded cord between fingers, speaking into comm-link. Ignored her, breathing in measure again.

Fire. Smoke. Combat.

Marched in direction of sounds and scents. Scholar was following, still chattering away. Another creature like the mind-rotten one, but smaller. Lacked the scent of the taint. Saw it raise a hand and channel energy, unleash it in a wave.

Launched. Airborne. Threat.

Drew scattergun, toggled mod. Chain lashed out, snared creature. Dragged close, in range. Click click, boom boom. Creature fell. Stomp of feet, larger creature. Bellowing and bringing weapon to bear.

Heavy. Grim. Trooper.

Felt bullets splash off armor. Charged in and aimed gun. Click click, boom boom. Trooper howled, swung bayonet. Returned the favor. Through the chest, once, twice, thrice. Fluid sprayed, trooper fell. Another big creature, like the trooper, but carrying something.

Shield. Seasoned. Hoplite.

Click click, boom boom. Shield held firm. Hoplite planted it, deployed wider shield, firing over cover. Scholar suddenly moves. Vanishes in violet flash, appears behind hoplite. Explosion of purple light, hoplite falls. Scholar chattering, gesturing. Breathe in measure.

More threats. More Lightbearers. More fighting.


"Holy shit," Morgan muttered as he saw the green-armored figure emerge from the interior of the Skyline complex. "As backup goes, that's pretty awesome," he admitted aloud. "Bazza, you seeing this?"

Fireteam Enoch's Arcstrider, who by this point had managed to get rezzed after getting flattened by a drop pod, nodded his head. "Who's this?"

"Remember the maniac I told you about? The one we ran into in those Hive caves with the chain-witch?"

Bazza blinked. "That's him? I thought you said he was dead!"

Morgan shook his head. "Said he was good as. Trapped in the Ascendant Plane."

Korsana broke in via the comms. "Eyes up, assholes! More drop pods incoming!"

As she said this, one of said pods came down with crushing force. Bazza was unfortunately in the drop zone, but as the pod dissolved, Morgan charged in, lightning coursing off his form as he slammed his fists into the ground, the shockwave scattering the squadron emerging into crackling ash. That done, he channeled some of his Light to help Bazza resurrect more quickly. The Hunter spat curses as he got up. "Once is bad luck, twice is bloody deliberate!"

Wahei Blinked into view beside the Slayer, who was surveying the battlefield. More drop pods had crashed around the balconies, and more Cabal insurgents were spreading out. Some of them had spotted the big man. A Centurion looked him up and down, then yelled a command in Ulurant, pointing a finger at him. Two full squadrons of Cabal took aim at him.

Morgan charged over and threw a towering barricade up in front of the Slayer, who looked... nonplussed, insofar as it was possible to read any expression through that opaque faceplate. The Titan nodded to him, clapped him on the shoulder. "Glad to see you again, Big Guy. We'll have to catch up later, though."

Cabal gunfire was being intercepted by that barricade, but even this could only weather the fire for so long. "What're you thinking, Ohr? Nova Bomb on the centurion there?" Bazza inquired as he bunkered down in cover near the three behind the barricade.

The Voidwalker looked thoughtful. "Probably, but that'll still leave a lot of Cabal to mop up- oh shit!"

The Slayer had taken in the forces facing him down, then reached behind him, unslinging the weapon hanging there. It looked a little more worn than when she'd seen it last, but it still had the green-glowing crystal spinning in its cylinder on the top. The big man hefted this up, leveling it toward the Cabal, who had slowed their fire as clips began to run dry. One or two of them looked slightly worried as the Slayer swung it into position.

"All Lights!" Wahei screamed into the comm. "Brace yourselves! Ghosts, get to cover!"

The Slayer clicked the trigger, and the world went green and bright and pain. The weapon in the big man's hands belched forth a cone of energy which burned green in the retinas. Where it struck the Cabal, it flashed brightly enough to sear everyone's vision, and most of the Legionaries started screaming in agony as their armor glowed orange-hot, cooking them alive. A Phalanx tried to hunker down behind its shield, but the hard-light fizzled out almost immediately, and it fell back, thrashing as the pressurized oil burst out of the joints of its armor. The Centurion squad commander's personal energy-shield lasted only a moment against the blast, and it too fell screaming.

The Guardians standing behind the Slayer still felt the backwash of the blast, letting out yells of their own, Wahei beating out smoldering patches on her robes, and Morgan gritting his teeth against the pain in his eyes from beholding the blast. The Hunter Bazza, covered behind a planter, had not been in the direct path of the blast, but he did not escape unscathed. He, too, was shrieking in pain as his cloak burst into flames, rendered little more than bones in scorched remnants of clothing.

When the energy blast subsided, the Slayer scanned the surroundings, then stowed the weapon back across his back. He turned to look back at the Guardians, as Morgan and Wahei both recovered from the backwash. A moment later, Bazza's Ghost materialized and the Hunter was resurrected, doubled over and dry-heaving. "Bloody Nora," he moaned. "The hell was that?"

Wahei went over to help him up. "Experimental Braytech weapon the Slayer picked up last time we ran into him."

Bazza retched a bit and pulled his helmet off, his dusky face pale and his dark hair plastered to his head with sweat. "What the hell is it?"

"A big fucking gun," Morgan answered.

Wahei rolled her eyes. "Uses some kind of energy that Braytech discovered in some Hive caves on Mars."

The Hunter spat some bile out of his mouth. "That was worse than the time I fell in that acid pit on the Shore. Warn a body next time you're gonna fire that thing, yeah?" he demanded of the Slayer, who ignored him.

The giant was looking at the ominous hulk of the Insurgents' carrier. Even at a distance, one could see where the blue livery of the Siege Dancers had been painted over in favor of the Red Legion. Another wave of drop pods was incoming, and the Slayer drew his shotgun from the holster on his hip. Morgan regarded it as he did. The Slayer appeared to have attached some kind of double-pronged bayonet to the underside of the barrel, but then the big man clicked a switch, and the prongs snapped out into some kind of pincer. The pods had landed, and another squadron of Cabal was charging forth, firing their slug rifles at them. And the Slayer burst into action.

There was no reason a man that big should have been able to move that fast. He reached the first Legionary and put a slug from his shotgun through the Cabal's helmet. The next swung its bayonet toward him, but the Slayer raised his other hand, the blade on his gauntlet parrying it aside before he shoved the gun under one arm and blew a hole through the joint, which spewed blood and pressurized oil. He dodged aside from a Phalanx's lunge with its shield, reloading the shotgun as he went. The Slayer charged forward, stepping off the Phalanx's back and putting a slug through the back of its neck, then diving onto another Legionary, driving the blade on his arm through its neck. He spun around as he landed, another slug going into yet another Legionary's face.

By this point, the squad's Centurion launched itself into the air, its jetpack blazing as it trained its bronto cannon on the rampaging giant. The Slayer saw it as he reloaded, barely flinching as the bronto cannon's fire slammed into the ground in front of him. The big man raised his shotgun, and suddenly the pincer-like bayonet on the underside launched out. It clamped itself around the Centurion's throat, before the Slayer reeled in the chain attached to the shotgun, leaping into the air as the chain pulled him close enough to fire both barrels and take the Cabal's head off in a fountain of blood and oil.

And more Cabal were arriving, as an enormous Cabal Colossus stomped out of a dissolving drop pod.


Back at the Tower, the Crucible Control Center was abuzz with activity. More technicians had supplemented the crew already on hand to monitor the now-abandoned match, and runners had been dispatched to summon the Vanguard. Aunor Mahal had taken the holo-comm, from which she could address one of their tentative allies. "I understand it's asking a lot, Val Gad'dahr. But the sooner your troops can lend assistance, the better."

The Cabal officer glowered from the hologram. "I never said I would be sending my troops to aid your Lightbearers."

Aunor blinked. "Val, you said-"

"I said I would lend assistance," Gad'dahr grunted. "And I will. The insurgents' carrier will not be a problem when we are finished, but it will take us time to get in position."

The Praxic Warlock sighed, partly in relief. "Thank you, Val Gad'dahr. Your assistance will not be forgotten."

The Cabal just gave a sound like a harrumph before terminating the comm-link. Aunor turned back. "Have the Vanguard been informed of what's going on?"

"The Commander is on his way," an aide reported. "Ikora is off-world, but aware of the situation."

Aunor nodded and looked back up at the screens, pausing as she saw an unfamiliar person emerging from the interior of the Skyline complex alongside Wahei Ohr. She turned to one of the senior Redjack frames present. "Dahlia, who is that? That's not Reese or Morgan. I thought there were only two Titans in the match today."

Dahlia 99-40 swiveled her head to face her. "I haven't found any Crucible data about that individual, Aunor Mahal, but I am still pulling records," the frame reported in feminine tones. The two optics on either side of her boxy head blinked. "I have located a relevant record that may identify him, Aunor Mahal. Comparing visual records now." Dahlia's digits flew over her tablet, before holding it up for the Warlock to see.

She peered at the two pictures, one a still frame from the current feeds, the other showing him standing next to the Hunter Rega-7 in what appeared to be a derelict laboratory somewhere. "Looks like the same guy," she agreed. The second picture looked familiar. "Where's that image from?"

"Recovered from Ghost telemetry and recordings from a report filed by Warlock Wahei Ohr and her Ghost Vizier approximately eighteen months ago," Dahlia replied. "In her report, Wahei Ohr designated this individual as 'the Slayer.'"

Aunor blinked, because she remembered the incident. Warlock Ohr and her fireteam had been investigating reports of Hive activity in a section near the Hellas Basin on Mars, and during their mission had found a derelict Clovis Bray installation for their 'Utilization of Areometallurgic Crystals' project. The Hive brood that had infested the area- a heretofore unknown sect dubbed the 'Chained Swarm'- had been guarding a Hive Oubliette, which had apparently contained a dangerous warrior they called 'the Slayer.' The fireteam's battles had broken whatever seals had been keeping the Slayer locked away, and the subsequent rampage through the CB-UAC facility and the surrounding Hive caverns had all but annihilated the Chained Swarm, and culminated- according to Ohr's reports- with the Swarm's leader, an Ascendant Hive witch called KateƤk, literally dragging the Slayer with her as she escaped into the Ascendant Plane.

In retrospect, Aunor reflected, she had been particularly harsh in her accusations to Ohr and Morgan about fabricating their story. But she hadn't yet gotten a chance to review the recordings the Ghosts had recorded of their mission, and even with that evidence, the idea of some rogue Lightbearer like the Slayer doing the things he could do, all sounded preposterous, even to an experienced Warlock like herself.

She looked from the tablet up to the screens, just in time to see the Slayer heft his weapon and annihilate an entire squadron of Cabal insurgents with a single green-hued blast. There were shocked gasps from those present in the room, and even Lord Shaxx had been stunned into momentary silence. "What the hell was that?" an aide stammered.

Aunor remembered Ohr's report. "Top-secret Braytech weapon called the Blast Force Generator."

But then they were all stunned to silence again as they watched the Slayer burst into motion, and start ripping into a fresh wave of Cabal insurgents. The boom of his shotgun could be heard over the feeds as he slammed into the enemy soldiers, weaving through them and gunning them down without slowing or stopping. Another gasp went up as they saw the pincer fire out from beneath his weapon, using it to pull himself close to the Centurion to blow its head off.

A fresh wave of Cabal were landing, but the Slayer hadn't stopped, even as a Colossus trained its chaingun upon him. The stream of bullets only briefly knocked him off the path of his charge, and the giant simply dashed sideways, his bayonet slashing open a Psion's throat before grabbing the limp carcass and hurling it toward the Colossus' face. Aunor heard the big Cabal just bellow in rage before slamming its foot down with concussive force. The Slayer swayed back from the impact, then used the chained-pincer to grab onto the Colossus, launching himself up and over its head. The behemoth's armor held against the point-blank double-barreled blast, until the green-armored giant grappled onto the Colossus' helmet, swinging behind its back and jabbing that bayonet into the vents on the armor in the back. Once, twice, three times plunged the blade, before smoke and oil began to spray up from the Colossus' neck-seal. It roared again, trying to swing its cannon around to swipe at the Slayer, who just leapt over it and fired again into its face, cracking the helmet's faceplate and causing the Colossus to finally begin to collapse.

Aunor jumped as Lord Shaxx suddenly pumped both of his fists in the air. "YEEEESSS!"

"What is happening?" Both Shaxx and Aunor turned as Commander Zavala, leader of the Vanguard and de facto leader of every Guardian of the Last City, came into the room. The blue-skinned Awoken looked to the Praxic Warlock. "Mahal. I was told there's an attack on the Skyline Crucible arena?"

"Cabal insurgents," Aunor replied. "Remnant Red Legion and defectors from Imperial forces. I guess they thought they could get away with it. We're waiting for the Imperial firebase at the Scablands to respond. So far our Guardians are holding their own, with some unexpected backup."

Zavala's habitually stern face did not change, apart from a raised eyebrow as he saw the giant charging through the Cabal attackers. "Who is-?" he began, but Aunor answered by holding up her tablet, which still displayed the two pictures of him. "...'The Slayer?' I thought he was lost almost two years ago."

"I expect Warlock Ohr will have a report to file when she gets back," Aunor sighed. She regarded the screens, where she saw the Slayer cut a Legionary's arm off with his bayonet before grabbing the wounded Cabal's severed arm and plunging its own blade into its throat. "I had thought her fireteam was exaggerating in their original report. Now I see they may have been understating his capabilities."

"Indeed," Zavala agreed, dryly. "We did warn you at the time that Wahei is not prone to-"

"I'm aware of that, now," she interrupted, flushing angrily. "I'm wondering how much longer until Val Gad'dahr's forces respond. Lucan," she addressed the frame manning the long-range sat-feeds, "any sign from the firebase?"

"Nothing yet, Aunor Mahal," Lucan 99-40 answered. "Scans indicate no Imperial vehicles are mobilizing, but there is paracausal interference from the Scablands nearby."

Zavala turned to the communications tech. "Get the Val on the comms, now!" he ordered. Surprisingly, it didn't take long for the glowering shape of the Imperial Cabal officer to materialize in the holo-comm. "Val Gad'dahr, our forces are under sustained fire. We need you to send support to them, now!"

Gad'dahr snorted, his eyes narrowing. "You're in luck, Commander Zavala. We have just finished our preparations."

"Our scans aren't showing any ships taking off!" he pointed out.

"I never said I would send ships. I said I would send assistance." Gad'dahr turned to someone outside of the holo's feed. "Are we in position?"

"Yes, Val!" came the off-feed reply.

The officer nodded once, and faced Zavala. "You wanted us to send assistance, Commander? Very well." He looked off-feed and nodded again. "Send it."


Rega-7's hand cannon barked as she blew a hole into a Legionary's helmet, then spun and tossed a grenade over a Phalanx's shield as she rolled between another pair of Legionaries that tried to crowd her. As the grenade detonated and staggered the shield-toting Cabal, it collapsed completely when one of Korsana's arrows penetrated the eye-socket of its helmet. The archer rolled over Rega's shoulders and jabbed her knife into the neck of a Psion, then smoothly raised her bow and fired another arrow through a joint in the armor of a Legionary, who crumpled to a knee in agony before a second arrow caught it in the neck. Oil sprayed out as the Cabal fell over.

"Any word on when that backup is supposed to arrive?" This came from Reese, his armor scorched from his Sunbreaker flames as he conjured a Hammer of Sol in one fist and used it to uppercut a lunging Phalanx. "Even if your Warlock says we've got some, these Cabal aren't slowing down."

Rega glowered at him. "If Caiatl's forces said they're going to help, then they will. We just have to give them time." In the past year, many inroads had been made to further strengthen the armistice between the Imperial Cabal forces under the leadership of Empress Caiatl and the Guardians of the Last City. The initial conflicts had long since settled, as the Empress had used them to eliminate dissenters and potential usurpers, and she had shown the Guardians nothing but respect for their capabilities, if only as warriors. There had been a misunderstanding more recently, after the firebase had been established in the Scablands, but this had been quickly sidestepped for other concerns.

Suddenly there was a flash from elsewhere in the Skyline complex, bright and green, and all heads- Guardian and Cabal alike- turned to look in that direction, especially as the air was filled with the screams of dying men. Rega-7 flicked her optics toward her feed, a glance that her hidden Ghost quickly interpreted for her. Chaukeedar spoke quietly in her ear over their private comm, "Massive energy discharge. I don't recognize it- wait." The Ghost's soft, accented voice grew excited. "I do recognize it! It matches the 'blast force' energy from the BFG!"

It took Rega a moment for the memory to tick over. "The BFG- wait, the Slayer!?" She started laughing, and the nearest Cabal turned to her, its confusion evident in the cant of its head. "You guys are totally screwed now!"

Another Centurion thumped its fist off its armored breastplate and bellowed a command, and the other Cabal started to attack again. The Guardians continued their dance of death, running and gunning. The Dawnblades Shaman-9 and Hono-4 took to the air, flames spreading from their backs like wings as they rained literal fire down on the Cabal squadrons. Rega hip-fired her hand cannon, then tossed a knife to the side to cut down a Psion sharpshooter. But there were still more drop pods incoming from the carrier-

-until there was a flash in the air, followed by the thunderous BOOM as the carrier suddenly cracked in two, falling out of the skies. Once more, all the fighting stopped as all eyes turned to watch, hearing another distant clap of thunder. Rega-7 toggled into her comm. "Rega-7 to Tower, what the hell was that?"

"Tower to Rega. Mahal here. That was the assistance from the Imperial forces. Their firebase just fired their cannon at the carrier."

Rega gave another laugh. "Well damn. Not what I was expecting, but I'll take it! We'll mop up from here, Tower."

"Acknowledged, Rega. The Commander wants to see you when you get back. Bring your friend with you."

Clearing out the remaining Cabal insurgents didn't take long at all. Between eight Guardians and the Slayer, they dispatched the remaining squadrons and reconvened in front of the Braytech sign out front of the Skyline complex. "Any idea what got the rhinos getting frisky?" Bazza asked as they all rolled up to the site.

Wahei raised a hand. "They had a Psion Flayer on hand. Shouldn't be surprising, the Psion Conclave is spearheading the insurgency." The Conclave was a new wrinkle in the ever-present threat of the Cabal forces, one which had infiltrated every faction of Cabal in the system- from the remnant Red Legion to the Imperial Ascendancy to the disparate detachments left over from the original deployment. Things were still unclear as to their main goal, but the Conclave's propaganda broadcasts had swayed quite a few Cabal units and battalions to the insurgency. "But when I ran into it, I could tell it had been corrupted. Turned by a Hive Cryptolith into a Wrathborn."

Morgan grimaced. "I thought we took care of all the Cryptoliths in the system last year." The Cryptoliths had also been a new wrinkle in their dealings with the Hive. After most of the Lunar Hive broods had been wiped out, the remainder had forsaken their old oaths to the dead Hive god-king, Oryx, and swore a new allegiance to his sister, the Hive God of War, Xivu Arath. The War God had seeded living stone monoliths throughout the system, proximity to which could poison the mind, subverting one's will until they served Xivu Arath. Beings that had been subverted in this way had been dubbed 'Wrathborn.' Most of the Cryptoliths had been neutralized after Xivu's High Celebrant had been hunted down and executed.

"There's nothing to say that more couldn't have been planted," Wahei told him. "But while I was trying to deal with it, it used its powers and cast an incantation to open a portal to the Ascendant Realm. It was summoning an Abyssal Champion, but when the portal opened, the Abyssal was dead, and the Big Guy here," she pointed to the Slayer, "came out and killed the Psion."

The Guardians regarded the Slayer. After marching up to the group of Lightbearers, his helmet had slowly swept from side to side as he looked each of them over, breathing deep and looming a bit over them, before he shoved his shotgun into its holster and began to turn to regard their surroundings, and prod at some of the Cabal corpses with his boot.

"What the hell is he?" This came from Hono-4, the lone Warlock on Fireteam Enoch. The Exo's orange eyes looked the giant up and down. "I mean, I can sense he has the Light, but it doesn't feel like anything I've ever sensed before. He hits like a Titan, but he moves like a Hunter. Nothing that big should be that fast."

Morgan shook his head. "You're telling me. But we don't have any answers for you. Big Guy doesn't talk, do you, Big Guy?" The Slayer seemed to recognize he was being addressed, turning to look at Morgan for a long moment, and then turning away as he pulled a dead Colossus' chaingun out from underneath its corpse. They watched as he hefted it up, examining it, and then pointed it at a wall. The barrels spun up, but the gun gave a repeated, dull click-click-click as its drums of ammunition had been spent. Grunting in frustration, the Slayer hurled the gun aside.

"Commander Zavala wants us back to debrief," Rega-7 interjected, bringing their attention back to other matters. "I think I can fit the Slayer in my ship. Meet you all back at the Tower?"


Flash. Thunder. Boom.

Had felt explosion before the thunder struck. Saw troopers' ship fall from sky. Heard distant thump of the cannon. Big gun. Should find it later. Shoot it too.

Ripped through remaining troopers. Tore through shields of hoplites. Larger troopers with evident authority bellowing the rest in line. Same as the one ripped out of the air before. Tore through it as well.

Jetpack. Cannon. Polemarch.

Another big one. Sheathed in heavy armor. Carrying a heavy weapon. Roaring defiance and spewing bullets toward them all. Stomping the ground with blastwave force.

Broad. Heavy. Gunner.

Hooked in and drawn close. Scattergun to the throat. Click click, boom boom. Spray of blood and oil. Troopers and runners desperate to stop the slaughter. Lightbearers at work too. Army soon eliminated.

Stop. Release. Breathe.

Took in the measure of the Lightbearers. Scholar and soldier and scout from before, all still in one piece. Something is different. Cannot tell what. Breathed in their measure, a wisp of frost amid the other scents. Two other scholars, both smelling of embers, both beings of metal and Light, like the scout. Another soldier, also of embers, smoldering and grim. Another scout, smelling of stardust and oblivion.

Talking. Standing. Boring.

Turned away from Lightbearers. Tried to use a gunner's weapon. Ammo drums empty. Not a problem. Can reload them. Wait, cannot reload them. Light not working with gunner's weapon. Threw it aside. Annoyed. Ember-scout, from before, approaches. Chatters. Word repeated. "Rega." A name. Gestures to follow.

Tingle. Flourish. Elsewhere.

Teleportation. Something new. Aboard a small ship with ember-scout. Rega. Sterile, clean. Trophies on walls. Banners and blades. Rega's drone chatters. Sensation of ship moving. Rega chatters, not as much as void-scholar. Questions. But no answers to give.

Silent. Alone. Always.

Rega stops chatter. Realizes no answers coming. Leaves. Continue to prowl ship. Pacing. Ceaseless. Never stop moving. To stop is to die. Always keep moving. Time passes. Rega returns, chatters. Ship descending, roar of atmosphere. Re-entry. Another teleportation.

Bustle. People. City.

Brought up short. Have not seen this many people in. Too long. Too long. Far too long. Felt an ache deep in the bone, deep in the soul. Such sights had been forgotten beneath ages and ages of hate and violence and doom.

Ache. Pain. Sorrow.

People were staring. Chattering among themselves. Breathed in their measure. Lightbearers plenty but Lightless here, too. But gaze swung up to the great white orb in the air above the City.

Sky-dweller. Uplifter. Traveler.

Had not seen its like in. Too long. Far too long. Rega was chattering with the people. Calming them. Speaking repeated phrases. Tried to draw attention. But gaze stayed fixed on the sights before.

A Traveler. A City. A People.

Let Rega speak and onlookers chatter. Ignored them and drank in the sights. Breathed in the measure. Wanted to remember this. Because in the end. It would fade.

As all things did. But. Not yet.


Afterword: I think I'm going to halt this one here. Next part should be interesting. The Slayer in the Tower. And all the various meetings that are going to follow.