"Guardian, what is my name?" The Ghost said as they walked away from the registry. He had summoned his courage to ask the question foremost on his mind since the day he was born of the Traveler.
Unexpectedly, Langston paused and put his thumb and forefinger to his chin. "An apt question. I'm sorry but I didn't give it any thought up until now." He looked pensive.
Ghost was surprised, shocked even. Frankly, he hadn't expected to be acknowledged on his first attempt. But he was willing to fight his Guardian on this. It was too important to him.
Langston snapped his fingers, "I have your name! And It's a good one."
The Ghost waited with baited breath. Or at least the nearest simulated equivalent. The Guardian looked pleased with himself. But after a second he continued to meander about the Tower plaza.
"Yes?" the Ghost asked.
No response.
"Yes, yes yes!? What is it?" He pleaded desperately. Langston sighed and rubbed his temples. "Come on now, tell me!" The Ghost was too excited to be bothered by the teasing.
"Tell you… what exactly?"
"My name! You came up with 'a good one', I can barely wait!"
"You can wait a bit longer."
"No, no I can't! Tell me tell me tell me TELL ME!" The Ghost bobbed emphatically in frustration.
"Food first, conversation later."
"CONVERSATION NOW!" He screamed.
"With that level of disobedience, much later. You obstinate lugnut."
"LUGNUT?!"
Langston smiled. He controlled what he sought in nearly every relationship, the other's sense of self worth. He took to grinding it into dust. "A type of fastener, it secures wheels to vehicles. A set of lugnuts is typically used to secure a wheel to threaded wheel studs and thereby to a vehicle's axles — "
"I KNOW WHAT A LUGNUT IS. THAT CAN'T BE MY NAME?!" The Ghost's yelling was turning heads.
"You don't have a name. It certainly isn't related to the noble lugnut, the most useful of nuts. No, it was unfair of me to compare you to such an industrious fastener. Where would society be without wheels, and the axles to which they are fastened?"
"I'm not even as good as a lugnut?" Ghost's mind was filled with attempts to calculate the societal utility of lugnuts versus literal paracausal immortality when he stopped. Unlike all of Langston's other victims, Ghost had seen his handiwork performed first hand. He burst with defiant light, "No, I'm getting distracted, you're doing to me what you did to Ban—"
Langston scarfed down a handful of almonds he'd stolen from a beggar down the street, "Definitely not as good as a lugnut."
"I'll let that pass, what do you mean that I don't have a name? You just said you made one?"
"I have one cooked up, but you haven't earned it yet."
"I haven't?! …...OOOOOOHHHH!" The Ghost boiled over with rage, red light seeped from its chassis. "How did you earn your name then!"
"I didn't, I took my name for myself. You are asking someone to give you a name."
"But it's important to me that my Guardian gives me my name… I dreamed about it for years and years."
"Yes yes yes, you sad little box-nail."
"Downgraded to a BOX-NAIL?!"
Langston tripped a blind man as he made his way to the stairs, almonds in hand, "The screw is a marvelous invention, we owe the screw so much. People have this strange idea that nails are a carpenter's best friend, but can you remember the last time you saw a nail on a piece of professionally carpented furniture? You can't, because the nail is completely superannuated by Archimedes' great invention."
Ghost tried to resist Langston's perfect cruelty, annihilating his self worth, one tool at a time. But like all of Langston's other victims, Ghost was no match for his sociopathy.
"I think… I think I need to cry," Ghost muttered.
"What a pitiful attitude, a box-nail truly worthy of a name would rise to the occasion!"
"What… what do I need to do to earn a name?"
"Something magnificent enough to match the great name I've thought of."
"Why can't you just tell me?"
"Because, wingnut—"
"W..wingnut." The Ghost was despondent.
"Because you asked to be given something. Nothing in this universe can be given. Only taken. Only when you take your name from me, through proving your worth and valor, will you be worthy of a name."
The Ghost had heard this 'logic' before in the archives. Crota. Oryx. Savathun. The parallels… please let it be a coincidence.
"I will, I will earn my name. Just you wait! You'll see the greatest Ghost in action!" The nameless Ghost bristled with determination.
"I'm sure you will continue to meet my expectations." Langston said, deliberately ambiguous to whether a backhand existed in the compliment. By now they were standing before Shaxx. The Crucible master towered over them like a man over a toddler.
"CONGRATULATIONS! Little Ghost, you've found your partner!" He bellowed.
"Yes, he was getting registered by Zavala."
"All's WELL and GOOD then." Shaxx threw a thumbs up in their direction. "What are you doing Guardian?" Shaxx asked Langston, who was circling him in a crouch. The Hunter said nothing, but continued around Shaxx, carefully inching closer. The Ghost was embarrassed, Why is he so weird?
Quick as lightning Langston plunged his hand towards Shaxx's buttox, and the wallet dangling from his rear pocket. The speed was ungodly, forged by an intimate relationship with the Light and his innate talents as a pickpocket.
In the next moment, Shaxx held the Guardian's arm aloft. It was torn from its socket.
"Guardian, I know I'm as attractive as they come! But you can't stick your hands at the legendary ASS OF SHAXX without his permission!"
The Hunter narrowed his eyes, this was going to be a challenge. His first true challenge. He dropped to one knee and swept his arm around Shaxx's waist, his fingers extended to the point where the joints popped.
THWACK!
A wet smack resounded throughout the courtyard as Langston was beaten to the ground by his own arm.
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
The beating did not stop. Shaxx mercilessly bore into the Guardian until even he was out of breath. "I hope I've made my point clear, Guardian. NO TOUCHING."
Langston's face was a bloody pulp, his chestplate was crushed in. His legs gave out.
Holy heck! The Ghost thought at the massacre before him. Before the gravity of his partner's shame hit him, he felt a bit humbled. So this is the difference between my Guardian and a legend. Maybe Langston would approach Shaxx's level one day. But he wasn't even close to ready to challenge him yet.
Langston frothed blood at the mouth. Rage pooled at the corners of his eyes. He struggled to get up, but couldn't stand on his broken legs. Between spurts of blood, he mouthed "Ghost, it's your time to shine." And he slit his own throat with a knife. The Ghost reacted before he could even think, he summoned the Guardian back from death in a pool of paracausal energy.
Before the light had dissipated Langston had flung himself onto Shaxx with his new functioning limbs, riding his back like a monkey clings to a warthog.
"You TENACIOUS SCAMP!" Shaxx laughed at what he thought was an attempted fondling. He pinned Langston's legs to his waist with one great arm. Langston reached over Shaxx's shoulder in a desperate attempt to grasp the wallet. But his arm too, Shaxx pinned. Langston's nose broke as Shaxx swung his head backwards. "Prepare yourself!" Shaxx yelled.
He jumped 12 feet into the air assisted by his titan jetpack and kicked his legs out from under him. Langston squelched into a puddle of guts as Shaxx landed with his full mass on top of him.
"Hrgghhgh," Langston struggled to pull breath into his collapsed lungs.
"I'm sorry Guardian, but you must learn your lesson." Shaxx said, standing over the broken newbie. Langston raised his arm in defiance towards the wallet. A pitiful display, but earnest. The horned Guardian sighed. "So, it's like this is it…" He stomped down on Langston's face, forcing another revive.
"Young Hunter, I appreciate the notion. Thousands wish to touch my GLORIOUS GLUTES. But I'm not interested." Shaxx looked at his wrist, where a watch would be, if he had been wearing one. Langston tried to jump and discombobulate Shaxx from the air, but the Titan grabbed the Hunter by the ankle and lobbed him over the Tower railing in a single fluid motion. Another revive.
"My time is short Guardian, and you clearly have a lot to learn about romance." Shaxx was enveloped in light, "AS DO WE ALL! It is for this reason I must go." He was enveloped in light. Shaxx was gone, teleported away. Only the words — "Mara Sov waits for no man" — were left echoing behind.
"The… the wallet." Langston whispered, he slammed his fist to the ground. He slouched over a bench, inconsolable. The Ghost didn't know what to do, his Guardian had assaulted one of the most revered champions in the Tower, and gotten exactly what he deserved for it. But the wallet was clearly important to him. Ghost wanted to pat him on the back. But alas… no hands. "There will be more… wallets. It's ok partner."
Langston swatted his Ghost away, "You have no RIGHT to call me that, Thumb-tack! WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I NEEDED YOU MOST?"
"I was REVIVING you!"
"Could you have not whisked the wallet into my inventory?" The man's desperation was hard to watch.
"I'm just trying to be helpful!" The Ghost said, finally sticking up for himself. The Guardian sighed.
"Perhaps, perhaps you're right, box-nail."
Yes! Upgraded back to box-nail.
"I assumed you would know the basic priorities, but it seems like that was too much to ask. This time, the blame falls on me," Langston said.
Is he actually apologizing?
"That however, will not save you from the sock." The Ghost's light drained of color. "Just as it was my responsibility to tell you to prioritize the wallet, so was it your error for not understanding its value. In fact —" He trailed off, his attention stolen by a loud group of people.
They were cheering, crowded around a trio of Guardians coming from the hanger bay. In the center was a Warlock with the shiniest armor, his hands outstretched in confident acceptance of the crowd's praise. Behind him walked the two other Guardians in far shabbier gear. They kept pace, heads down in silence. No one seemed to notice them.
"That Ghost, that is a man with a wallet," Langston whispered, his mouth salivating at the thought of theft. Ghost panicked. He knew of the Warlock who returned. If stealing Shaxx's wallet went poorly, then this was sure to be a catastrophe, if for no other reason than collateral damage.
"Langston, please, let's just go on a few quests... and... steal Cabal wallets!" Ghost pleaded. No response. The Hunter was already stalking through the crowd, nimbly shifting from one angle to the next. Soon, he was behind the Warlock. His wallet made a slight indent in his robes. Target sighted. Langston pounced, sure of his mark.
A Ghost covered in white with two miniature horns atop its frame appeared beside the Warlock. "INCOMING BOSS!" the machine shouted.
With the speed of a thousand practiced war crimes the Warlock spun around and muttered a single word, "Unibeam."
Langston didn't entirely understand what happened after that. There was a booming noise, a flash of light, and then suddenly he was revived on the other side of the plaza. There was a fiery hole through two walls between where he was now and where he used to be. Langston turned his head and saw the same molten hole lead all the way to the hangar, where thousands of pounds of glimmer worth of property damage had taken place. His Ghost poked him the head, clearly alarmed, "Are you ok!"
Langston spat in the robot's eye, "Again, you did nothing. You just watched. Disgusting." He rushed back to the center of the plaza, leaving Ghost behind in a puddle of his own self loathing.
Several members of the gathered crowd were doubled over in pain, their hands clutched their faces as they shouted, "MY EYES! IM BLIND!" The Warlock stood with his hands at his hips, "And that folks, is why you always steal from the poor. Because the rich have magic." The crowd applauded his nonsense, enthralled with the legend before them. The Warlock's Ghost rushed Langston, bursting with furious light.
"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU IS, WISE GUY?!" He shouted in an inexplicable Long Island accent. "DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE DEALING WITH, JABRONI?!"
Langston was taken aback. He had yet to meet a Ghost with true gumption, and like most, he had never been called a jabroni before. The machine went on, "YOU'RE LUCKY THE BOSS DIDN'T FIT YOU AND YA' GHOST IN CEMENT SHOES! The Boss is a merciful god." The Ghost rolled over in anger.
Langston's mind immediately defaulted to his second tactic, gaslighting. What he should have done to Shaxx and this powerful Guardian from the beginning. "Presumptuous of you, little lugnut— "
His own Ghost screamed "HE'S LUGNUT STATUS?"
"— presumptuous of you to speak for your God. Are any of us capable of understanding such complex thoughts? The magnanimousness of his word, you pretend to understand it better than he himself?! You might as well call yourself a God!"
"No! I… I wouldn't dare!"
"BUT YOU DARED."
"No! G..go suck on a lemon!" The horned Ghost stuttered as his reality came under siege.
"The moment you stepped in, you robbed him of the chance to chastise his assailant. You robbed him of the glory of catching the scoundrel himself. How much of his acclaim must you theive before you are satisfied!"
The Ghost was unsure of himself "I'm his right hand, he… the boss trusts me with—
Langston raised a finger at the sky, and dramatically lowered it until it pointed directly at the Ghosts eye. "YOU! In your piety trampled upon his rights! Pretending to be as powerful, no, ABOVE your master? Your hubris disgusts me." Langston held his hand to his nose as if confronted with a powerful stench.
The little horned Ghost before him quailed.
He flew back to the Warlock and prostrated himself at his master's feet. "FORGIVE ME FIRE WOLF! I'm just a pitiful goombah, not worthy to shine ya slacks! Sweet, preeminent capo dei capi, Don of Dons, I ain't worthy... I AIN'T WORTHY!"
Langston smiled, his work complete. Now this was a Ghost who knew his place. Langston's own robotic companion caught up with him and he scowled. Now for the real threat. The Warlock boomed, his distorted voice clearly that of an exo.
"You're right to grovel my friend. I forgive your presumption. Rise." The Warlock raised his arms, and in synchronicity with the motion, he began to float in the air. The horned Ghost joined his master above the plebians as the crowd applauded and cheered louder than ever, clearly unaware that flying was the simplest thing a Warlock could do. The Exo floated over to Langston.
"Greetings, peasant," Fire Wolf said. "Thank you for keeping him in his place. His passion for my reverence can be a burden, but it is a burden I admire. I pardon you for your utter foolishness as well."
Langston twisted his lips, unsure what to say or do that would secure him this man's wallet. He chose to lean further into the gaslight, "You'd better remember your place, you little thumb-tack!" He said to the horned Ghost. The machine burst in fury.
"I SHALL BE ADDRESSED BY MY TITLE!"
Fire Wolf nodded, "Ah yes, introductions. I am Jabes, the Fire Wolf, greatest Guardian who ever lived or ever shall live, praise be my name. And this is my faithful Ghost, Knight Commander Snowball, first, but probably not last of his name, and champion of the Light."
Langston's Ghost was rocked to the very core. "He has a name?" He whispered. "You have a name?"
"But of course," Knight Commander Snowball said. "Fire Wolf gave it to me on our first mission. What kind of sad, spiteful, hideous, corrupt, sinful, WASTE of a Ghost doesn't have a name."
"My thoughts exactly, little lugnut," Langston said through the side of his mouth. His Ghost dropped to the ground.
"Who is you callin' a lugnut!? I am Knight Com— "
Langston's Ghost couldn't take it anymore. "TAKE LUGNUT AND BE HAPPY! So many others would KILL for that name!"
"Silence knave!" Jabes interjected at Langston's Ghost. "Knight Commander Snowball, you mustn't forget the utility of the noble lugnut."
"But Boss, you gave me my name! He's not giving me my rightful acclaim!"
"Backtalk?!" Fire Wolf glared at his Ghost. Knight Commander Snowball lowered himself without a moment's hesitation.
"Never boss!" Snowball fell silent.
Langston looked at the obedient Ghost, and then to his own. Filled with shame. "You can't do anything right." He said jealousy.
"Well Guardian I'm not one to hold a grudge. Except against the old-guard, the newbies, crucible teammates, crucible opponents, the hive, the fallen, fallen orphans... well, let's just say you have amused me mildly with your silver tongue. You would do well to remember my magnanimous words and from now on, steal only from the poor and defenseless."
Langston knew he was beat. But only for now. He expected Jabes to continue on his way. But he did not, only standing stubbornly in the same spot.
"BEGONE PEASANT!" The Fire Wolf boomed. So Langston stood back ten feet or so. "NOT BEGONE ENOUGH!" The legendary Guardian yelled again.
Commander Snowball too was one to hold a grudge, "that's right, the whole Tower's da bosses turf! You go where he says you goes." So Langston stepped back another five feet. "Do you want to burn up again from Chaos?" The horned machine chuckled maliciously.
"That's enough Knight Commander Snowball. He has BEGONED the required distance to please me." Jabes turned to the two meak guardians he kept in tow. "We must report our glorious conquest of Novota, and the even more crucial conquest of Shaw Han's dignity to Zavala, come knaves!" The Guardians were gaunt, exhausted and quite possibly starved. Their destroyed armor and quaking knees stood in contrast to Jabe's polished gear and confident pose. The poor abused Guardians stumbled forwards, but one collapsed to the ground. "Stand you mongrel! I shan't be seen with a groundling!" Jabes kicked at the broken man. But to no avail. He didn't even have enough strength to flinch anymore. "You have failed the entrance examination for the Fuzz clan, like so many before you. BEGONE!" He waited expectantly for the examinee to leave, who only quivered uselessly on the floor.
Jabes sighed. "A shame. It appears you cannot even do that correctly. KNIGHT COMMANDER SNOWBALL!" He yelled.
"What is it boss?"
"Repossess his armor! The mods are needed for new examinees."
"Yes my liege." The Ghost stripped the Guardian of his wear by funneling it into Jabes inventory, leaving him in briefs on the cold Tower floor.
"This leaves us in a pickle, doesn't it Examinee 2." Jabes put his hands on his hips. "Technically three Guardians are required for a Strike, though we could make do by slaying Xol with just us two. You're going to have to step up your game!" He sized up 'Examinee 2' who had yet to collapse on the floor. The examinee looked as though he was slowly losing the fight against gravity, but in him was some dogged determination to join Jabes' clan, or more likely, fear of what failing the Fire Wolf would mean to his person. So he stood on his shaking legs.
"Perhaps not." Jabes sighed. "In my infinite wisdom, I believe a second examinee might be needed to pick up your slack." He narrowed his eyes. But where to find such a man.
He would let Zavala solve this problem. Besides, he had to talk to the bald Vanguard anyways. Zavala was, to be certain, always hesitant of sending Guardians to their emotional deaths, but when push came to shove he needed the results Jabes could offer. Zavala was forced to routinely play the Trolley Cart problem. Give Jabes Guardians to break, or let the forces of evil destroy the last bastion of humanity. Ultimately it was no choice, Zavala was responsible for the Last City first and foremost. He had to play the utilitarian.
The souls of a hundred Guardians he'd sacrificed to Jabes' inhumane treatment haunted him in the wee hours of the night.
He turned on his heels and strode towards Zavala's office. Examinee 2 fell in behind him.
And Langston as well, careful to maintain a 15 foot distance.
"What are you doing?" His Ghost asked. "We could have been killed, permanently! That's the Fire Wolf himself. I wouldn't put it past him to incinerate both of us."
"Surely not, he's the legendary Guardian. The Guardian. Even I know that. The civilians had nothing but praise for him!"
The Ghost was frustrated, Langston had learned a lot about the state of the world in his few days AWOL. "Don't believe the legends, horrible rumors circulate in the Towers weekly about him. They say he alone is responsible for 30% of the attrition rate for Guardians, that's higher than both the Fallen and Cabal! COMBINED!"
"Again you disappoint me nameless box nail." Langston whispered, so as not to be heard by the infamous Exo. "A Guardian that prolific must have endless funds. I saw the bulge of his wallet with my own eyes. It was as enormous as I expected."
"As you expected?!"
"From the moment I heard the legends from my orphan network—"
"ORPHAN NETWORK?"
"From the moment those rascals laid his mythos before me, I knew who my real target was." Langston looked forlorn. "But I couldn't even rob Shaxx. Sometimes I feel like I'm in over my head."
"It's good to acknowledge your own weakness, partner." The Ghost refused to give up on the word, it was how he referred to the Guardian in his fantasies for the past millennia. "After some well deserved introspection, it would be best for us to at least loosely follow the paths of other Guardians. Your Light level is still low, we need to get you equipment." Langston was silent, but he did not stop following Jabes. "Maybe, maybe MAYBE when you reach the limits of how much Light you can obtain, you can… try again."
"I hold both of us to the same standards."
"Yes, I too will strive to become better through careful introspection and practice."
"That's not what I mean. Just as I expect you to take your name through great deeds, I too must struggle for what I most desire." A vision of a leather wallet, bursting at the seams with cash filled his mind. "I can't call myself Langston Hugs if I give up now."
Jabes banged on Zavala's door. The Commander opened it, grimaced, then gestured for the legend to come inside and sat down at his desk. Jabes planted himself in the chair opposite Zavala.
"What have you done Jabes?" Zavala asked, his voice a gravelly whisper.
"Please Zavala, my title is the Fire Wolf."
"Jabes, yes you killed Navota. This I acknowledge. But the reports… How did your charges have over 600 revives apiece, when you did not die a single time?!"
"My greatness has been the study of many scientists and philosophers, in fact it is the only thing in creation beyond my own comprehension. As for my sla — *ahem*, companions, they were initiates for the noble clan of Fuzz. Needless to say they did not make the grade, although this one will try again." He pointed to Examinee 2. No sound escaped the man's lips while tears streamed over his cheeks.
"And what of Shaw Han! I've called him three times, each he just wept uncontrollably and muttered "Everyone leaves" on repeat before he hung up. WHAT. DID. YOU. DO."
"I only did what you asked me, Zavala." Jabes brows were furrowed, he did not understand.
Langston used the distraction to creep up next to Examinee 2.
Jabes went on, "I heard from you and some rare, well-minded bureaucrat over the coms that Shaw Han's day of reckoning had come. And I was cleared to deliver it! And ooh how I delivered it."
"I specifically asked you not to! And that wasn't a member of the Vanguard office, it was just some— YOU! It was you!" Zavala pointed towards Langston, recognizing him. His eyes darted back and forth. Zavala was a man of honor, and almost always took responsibility for his actions. But no matter what he seemed to do, Jabes' ethical bankruptcy put him in a position where he was complicit in one atrocity or another. In his moment of weakness he clinged to the new Guardian as a moral scapegoat.
"Little old me? I don't have any idea what you're talking about." Langston replied, poised to gaslight yet another Guardian into utter oblivion.
Zavala lost his cool "You are responsible for this mix-up, YOU were the one at the office who told Jabes to reduce Shaw Han's mind to ashes!"
Jabes side-eyed the Hunter. "Is this true? You were the kind soul who allowed me to exact my divine justice on the weak man?"
Langston took a gamble, the best gamble of his life.
"Yes. It was I. I had seen Shaw's incompetence with my own eyes, and hearing you on the radio I was overwhelmed with a sense of relief. Surely, the righteous Jabes Fire Wolf could fix this problem. Only you had the skill, the smitening power to bring Han to his current, desirable state. A state he could never return from."
Jabes snickered, "Don't think I can't see through your simpering flattery, rightfully placed though it is. However, I am beginning to like you, Guardian. You did well to overstep Zavala's authority for the greater good." Jabes turned back to Zavala who clearly didn't appreciate the comment. Jabes kicked his feet up on the desk.
"Enough of the creature that was once Shaw Han, we have pressing matters to discuss. I was contracted to slay the Worm God Xol, and due to attrition in my fireteam, of which I was not responsible, I am in need of a third man. Find me a specimen."
Zavala pointed to Langston. "You, Hunter, were complicit in the ontological murder of Shaw Han. For this, I may burn in the fires of hell, but for those actions there is no more fitting punishment."
Jabes snapped his fingers three times. "Zavala, less denigration. More vict— recruits."
"That, Jabes. That new Guardian before you is your 'specimen.'" Zavala said, his eyes narrowed as he pronounced karmic judgement upon Langston.
The Hunter's pupils dilated. Not from worry, but from pleasure. It was all over, before it even began. The wallet was his.