A/N: So. This chapter's a bit of a different one. I was halfway through writing the aftermath of the Yang/Izanagi fight, when I realized... I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. That was fine, back when this shit was some dumb fanfic I cranked out in two hours for some of my friends to laugh at. But now... I've invested dozens of hours into writing this shit, and I don't know where I'm going with the story or why. And I want to change that. So I scrapped the chapter and decided to write this... monstrosity. So consider that chapter on hold until I plan out the story a bit more. No idea how long it will take, but Exodus Yellow will still update every week. It just might be more flashbacks like this, for a little while.

Anyway, I'm pivoting the tone of the story a little bit. I'm going to start writing and taking this shit a lot more seriously (like, maybe half-seriously), and I figured I'd start with Izanagi's backstory and how it differs from the plot of the games. Before you ask, I haven't touched the story since the release of Shadowkeep, and I don't know anything about what the fuck happens in Beyond Light save for some minor details, so consider both to be non-canonical to this story until I've had time to sort them out.

This chapter is about the final battle with the Winnower, and provides some details/context for Ozpin's and Izanagi's little interaction at the tower. As well as his character in general. A lot of the shit I'm writing about in this chapter simply isn't mentioned or explained on the wiki or ingame, so I've had to pull a lot of names and details out of my ass. I've never tried to write something like this before, so please let me know how it went.

Chapter 15: The Great Confrontation

(0126L, Beacon Ballroom, The night before Initiation)

"So… I've heard Oh talk about you defeating the Winnower before, and I just wanted to know…" Jaune trails off.

"Know what?" I grunt.

"How'd you, you know, do it? I mean, wasn't it the strongest being in the universe?"

"Well, yes. It was. What, did you think that could stop me?" I ask.

"…"

"Fine. Listen closely, Guardian. It all began about a year and a half ago, back in the Sol system…"

(The Last City, Consensus Crisis Council, 1434 Hrs.)

Alarms flash along the hallway, red emergency lights casting deep shadows across the deck as klaxons blare. Shouldering past a group of marines, I step through a closing blast door, into the Strategium. Dozens of people, humans and Guardian alike, are hard at work here. Even so, the atmosphere is panicked. Managing the defense of an entire solar system is not a simple task, even for veterans like the Vanguard.

Speaking of… "Zavala!" I shout, trying to make my voice heard over the din.

"Speaker!" Looking to the left, I see Zavala standing next to a large table, along with the only other member of the Vanguard. Ikora perished just days ago, during the Scouring of Pluto, and no Warlock has yet stepped up to the position. Striding over, I share a brief nod with the ancient Titan, before turning my attention to the documents scattered across the table.

"Brief me." I command, grabbing a report on the Jovian shipyards. Hm. Looks like the Ilyushin and the Hope Springs aren't going to be repaired in time for the next engagement. We're going to have to tow them back to the Inner Planets before we lose the Cis-Jovian theatre.

Zavala grimaces. "As bad as could be expected, Speaker. All fleets report crippling losses, and Battlegroups Sparta, Nectaris, and Jove have been destroyed entirely. Guardians from across the system are trying to hold the line, but at this rate, the Outer Planets will be lost in nine solar hours."

I sigh. "What about Saber Green? Any effect?"

"Almost nothing," Zavala says bitterly. "Bounced right off the Apex Pyramid, left a six-meter hole in the plate. Nothing else we've thrown at it has so much as scratched it."

"One more card down." I mutter, poring over reports on fleet deployments around Mars. "We're running out of options here. What about the Last Laugh?"

Zavala hesitates. "The work has been delayed by several attacks. We believe the enemy knows what we're trying and are doing everything in their power to stop it. It'll take several days for our engineers to salvage the Almighty's primary array and move it into position."

"Days we don't have." I remind him. "This needs to be prioritized."

"With all due respect, Speaker… does it? Wouldn't our effort be better spent on something more tangible?" Zavala asks. "Even if we manage to force the sun to go supernova, would it be enough? The Cabal have used this tactic before. It didn't save them."

"You don't understand the nature of the beast," I say. "The Winnower is, fundamentally, afraid of us. Afraid of the Light. Even a shadow of a threat to itself will force it to act more cautiously. We might even be able to bluff it into retreating from the system. Granted, we'd still have to deal with the other thousand threats on the board, but at least the biggest one would be off the table."

"As you say, Speaker." Zavala concurs. "But even if it did, it wouldn't be enough. The withdrawal of the Apex Pyramid would free up battlegroup Augustus… Which would delay our demise by five hours."

"Traveler damn it." I say. "Traveler… wait, Traveler. What's the Traveler doing?"

Zavala seems unsure. "I don't know. It's been silent ever since the Apex Pyramid reached the heliopause. I don't think we can rely on it saving us again."

"We may have to." I say gravely, leaning down and planting my hands on the table. How did it come to this? For almost twenty years, I've fought for humanity. I've gone further than anyone before me, defeated civilizations and beings the Traveler itself struggled to merely survive against.

Is this really how it ends? If only… if only I let the Vex die at Venus. If only I took the Osmium throne. If only I'd heeded the Winnower's warnings on Luna. If only I was stronger…

Wait. That's it. Strength. It's the Sword-Logic; a Guardian gains strength by defeating their enemies. So, if I defeated the Winnower... might not be possible… but maybe? I can see the beginnings of a plan forming in my mind. Hm. I'm going to have to work fast, if I want to be strong enough to turn back the tide. "Zavala," I say, determination filling my voice. "Recall every Guardian in the system."

"What!?" He says, shocked. "That's… we'd be overrun in less than a day! Our ground forces will fold like a house of cards without Guardian support!"

"It's our only chance, Zavala." I say, letting a steely edge creep into our tone. "I have a plan to turn this around. First, we're going to gather the whole gang. Then, we make a deep strike into enemy lines – straight to the Apex Pyramid. I… there's a way inside, now. If we can get at least one of us to the Winnower, we might be able to defeat it."

"It'd be suicide, Urs!" He shouts. If he's using my name, he must be really upset. "Hundreds of us would be blasted out of the sky before we could even get close to the damn thing – not to mention what's waiting for us inside! And what would killing it even do for us?"

"Sword-Logic," I say. "If one of us can defeat it - I doubt killing it is possible – we'd gain a portion of its power. The Winnower is the strongest being in the universe, so we might be strong enough to finish off the rest of our enemies afterward."

"This entire plan hinges on maybe's and ifs." Zavala snarls.

"What other choice do we have?" I shout. The rest of the room grows quiet, as every eye turns to us. "Get on our knees and pray to the Traveler for salvation, just like our ancestors did during the Collapse? Try to flee the system and hope we don't get snapped up by a Vex reality sink like the Exodus Black? Or should we switch sides, blow the Traveler out of the sky and try to join team Extinction? What do you WANT me to say?! It's a chance, yes, but it's the best one we have!"

Zavala is quiet. The entire command post is as silent as a grave. Turning to face the rest of the room, I lower my voice back to its usual volume. "I'm going to take that chance. Anybody else who wants to, meet me at Mars in five hours."

(Martian Orbit, Extinction Event, 1956 Hrs.)

"Wow," I say. "I'll be honest… I wasn't expecting so many."

"Every Guardian in the system responded to your call." Zavala's voice crackles over the radio. "With so many of us abandoning our posts, we only have a few hours to make this work. Let's hurry."

Keying into the fleet frequency, I send out a hail to all nearby ships. "This is the Speaker," I say. "Sound off, unit designation and combat efficiency."

"Battlegroup Taiko, 35% operational!"

"Battlegroup Genghis, 13% effective."

"Future War Cult frigate Allarus, seventy-four Guardians."

"Ilyodor District Militia, three thousand marines."

"Snow's Host, nine Guardians!"

On and on the hails come, hundreds of ships and thousands of Guardians and soldiers. Over half of our remaining military forces must have shown up. This… this just might work. Time to go over the plan then. It's... suicidal, but I simply don't have the time or resources to come up with something better.

"All right, listen up!" I snap. "Here's the plan; that Apex Pyramid closing in on Jupiter is the mastermind of this invasion. We're going to go in, cut the head off the snake. This is going to be bloody, make no mistake. The plan is simple; warships first, use your weapons to cut a path through the chaff and debris. Transports follow behind, fighters escorting. We close with the Pyramid as quickly as possible, ram the fucking thing if we have to. The access point is a small hole, about six meters across. Guardians go through first, marines follow behind. Our target is in the core of the vessel, several kilometers from the breach."

"…There's no telling what's inside the damn thing. And once we reach the target, we have no idea how powerful it is. For all we know, it could just fucking snap its fingers and kill us all. This is your last chance to back out. Anybody who's in for the long haul, synchronize your nav-computers to mine. We jump in fifteen minutes. Traveler protect us all."

(Jovian Orbit, New Halcyon Shipyards, 2021 Hrs.)

I slam forwards in my seat, as the NLS drive disengages. Around me, flashes of light pop against the blackness of space, as the rest of the fleet drops out of FTL. Ahead of us, the shattered remnants of the Halcyon shipyards loom, silhouetted against the skies of Jupiter. And slowly moving through the wreckage is our target – the Apex Pyramid.

Plasma trails streak across the void, as the warships accelerate towards the Pyramid. Smaller vessels swarm out of the debris, engaging our ships as the transports slowly accelerate. I bring my dropship into the formation, hugging the hull of a small Marine transport near the back of the fleet. Tapping the console, I stretch my ship's shields out to encompass the other vessel. They won't hold up to a direct hit, but it should be enough to deflect any shrapnel and debris.

Control of the battle has been passed off to the real commanders, men and women who have spent their entire lives mastering the art of void combat. For now, I've nothing to do but watch and listen. I can hear the cries of stricken ships echoing through the airwaves, each its own little tale of woe.

"Frigate Allarus, abandoning ship! Reactor breach–"

"-day, cooling loop damaged, dropping out of formation."

"This is the Winter War, decks nine through twelve vented, voidsmen to deck thirteen…"

Suddenly, one in particular drowns out the rest, transmitted from a capital ship in the center of the fleet. "Main cannon offline, crew dead or dying. Engaging NLS drive, Starshine out."

A streak of white appears as the Starshine leaps into FTL – straight at one of the smaller Pyramids. Thousands of tons of steel and titanium explode through the ship like buckshot through paper, annihilating the Pyramid and crippling several others behind it. Flecks of orange and red appear in Jupiter's skies, fragments of metal burning up the thick atmosphere.

Immediately, several smaller ships follow its example – whether an act of desperation or selflessness, I can't tell. Its escorts eliminated, the Apex Pyramid begins to stir, bolts of energy lancing out. But it's too late. The transports have had enough time to accelerate, when one is struck down, two more make it through. Still, a fleet of hundreds is whittled down to about five dozen by the time we get within the minimum range of the Pyramid, mostly smaller vessels and personal dropships. Only a few cruisers and a single crippled battleship remain to screen the convoy.

A few tense minutes pass, as the transports ahead prepare to set up a transmat zone and establish a landing order. Eventually, the call comes through, and ships start disgorging their passengers. Swooping towards the Pyramid, I can see the hole, barely visible against the black metal of the hull. Engaging the autopilot, I check the void seals on my suit, before transmatting down into the breach.

As soon as I've materialized a dozen hands shove me aside, so new arrivals can transmat in. Picking myself up, I raise my rifle and join a group of Guardians clustering near one of the passages leading deeper into the vessel. By some unseen signal, they set off, separating from the main group and heading deeper into the bowels of the ship. The connection to the fleet fades and dies the moment we leave sight of the breach, though local comms still work. Seems the signals can't penetrate the metal around us.

One meter down, twenty thousand more to go.

(Apex Pyramid, Heatsink Beta, 2221 Hrs.)

Raising Sleeper Simulant, I send a lance of energy into the construct before me. It's body crackles with heat and static electricity, before dissipating entirely. With a hiss, I duck back behind cover as the temperature becomes unbearable. The atmosphere in this room is boiling – literally. If we weren't wearing void suits, we'd be roasted alive. As it is, we've already had one Guardian collapse from heatstroke. Massive heatsinks dot the perimeter of the cavernous room around us, storing the excess thermal energy the Pyramid's weapons produce. Our group of Guardians has dwindled – sixteen down to six. A large group of marines joined us briefly, but their frailer constitutions couldn't stand the temperatures in this room, so they're hanging back until we clear the path.

It's slow going, these… constructs, these creations of Darkness are everywhere. They're everything I hate in an enemy – smart, strong, and fucking fast to boot. Headshots do nothing to the fucking things, so our best strategy so far has been to hold off the tide with auto rifles while our sharpshooters pick off the most dangerous ones.

Thankfully, the damn things still drop ammo. Somehow. Though we've taken heavy casualties, we've been carving a path through them fairly steadily. About nine kilometers from the core, by our Ghost's best estimates. Geometry's getting fuzzy the closer we get, though. No telling how close the other groups might be – this place is a maze, and the main group split up going out of the breach in order to cover more ground.

"I think we're clear!" A Guardian shouts. Tentatively, I peek out of cover, wincing as the heat ripples across the faceplate of my helmet. Hm. Looks okay, but there's still a lot of corners to check. These creatures love ambush tactics, it's how they took the first three before we adapted.

I just hope we're ready for what's waiting at the end.

(Apex Pyramid, The Throneroom, 0056 Hrs.)

"So… you finally made it."

I look up, using my visor to zoom in on the figure slowly descending the gargantuan staircase before me. Despite their apparent distance, their voice carries, as though we were mere feet apart.

"No thanks to you." I spit. "Your pets didn't make it easy."

I can see the Winnower smile. It's creepy, even more considering they look like a monochrome version of me, sans helmet. "On the contrary." He chuckles. "Who did you think opened the door? Your ally's… sacrifice, was commendable, but nothing on this ship can gainsay me. If I wanted the door to remain closed, closed it would have stayed."

"So, you were toying with us this whole time." I say. "About what I expected."

"Quite." He grins. "Now, I told you I'd come to hear your answer myself. Here I stand – tell me, what say you?"

Snapping Malfeasance up, I put a round between his eyes. No damage, of course.

The Winnower sighs. "As I thought. If that is your answer, here is mine…"

Floor becomes ceiling, as I find myself pinned upside-down to one of the walls. With an errant flick of the wrist, the Winnower sends me careening across the throneroom, crashing into the base of the stairs. Struggling to my feet, I suck in a breath as the Light sluggishly mends my broken bones. What...?

"Can't you feel it, Guardian?" The Winnower says, stepping further down the staircase. "As I grow stronger, your Traveler, your Light weakens. Soon, I will extinguish it entirely, as I should have done endless aeons ago."

Finally reaching the base of the stairs, it swiftly crosses the distance between us. I raise my weapon. However pointless it may be, I won't go down without a fight. But it stops short, about a dozen feet away. "Guardian…" It says softly. "You had so much potential. You were the Gardener's final argument. It would have meant everything to me if you could see the truth."

Their voice hardens. "But it is not to be so. Let this be our final battle. In accordance with the Symmetry, you, chosen of the Gardener, are here at your full power, and so are subject to my full power." With a quick gesture, a massive, black sword materializes in its hands.

Despite the gravity of the situation, I can't hold back a snort. "Really? Deciding the fate of the universe with a sword fight?"

The Winnower laughs. "You never noticed my chosen's propensity for them? Like master, like apprentice."

"Hm." I hum. "Fair enough." Reaching out, I summon the weapon I had specifically prepared for this situation. "Have at you."

Ducking down, the Winnower avoids my surprise attack, sweeping his blade towards my legs. Stepping back, I twist the haft of my weapon, blocking the stroke. Knocking the sword away with one end, I drive the other towards his neck, aiming for the jugular. I doubt it'll be any more effective than striking any other part of his body, but years' worth of instinct is hard to ignore.

The Winnower sways out of the path of the strike with contemptuous ease, before twirling their sword in one hand, reversing their grip and slamming the pommel into my side. Armor buckles and ribs crack, but I hold fast, deflecting a followup stroke with a gauntleted forearm while bashing him in the abdomen with the butt of my weapon.

The Winnower staggers back, warding me away with a swift flurry of cuts. "A fine weapon." He says, eyeing the spear in my hands. "You created it?"

"Yes," I say calmly, holding the spear aloft. "This is Amenonuhoko, Winnower! I carved its shaft from the Tree of Silver Wings and forged its head from a shard of the Traveler itself! If any weapon in the universe can hurt you, it can!"

The Winnower simply smiles again. "Weapons alone cannot harm me any longer. I will be sure to take it from your shattered body, Guardian. Consider it your last mark upon the universe." I can't help but grin. It's fallen for it. A long, long time ago, someone compared the Winnower to a child – and just like a child, they're unable to resist the lure of a shiny new toy. The spear is the least of its worries now.

This plan, this desperate plan, it all hinges on one thing; killing the Winnower. But how? The Traveler itself couldn't do it, even back when it was far stronger and the Winnower far weaker. In the end, there's only one way I can think of, one power equal to the Light and the Darkness.

The Anthem Anatheme. The gradient between the real and unreal, the friction between the existence and inexistence. The dynamo that all energy and matter derive from. As Xol once put it, 'to dominate the objective universe with the subjective will'. And I… I'm not the strongest Guardian, who ever lived. Nor the most famous, or beloved, or even the most successful. And all that pales before the Winnower, a being that has had billions of years to hone its skills. In a contest of strength or of wits, I'd come up short. But in a contest of will? Grit and determination are mankind's greatest strengths. I might, just might, stand a chance. With a smile, I begin the process. Quiet murmurs fill the silence, as I gently whisper the Anthem Anatheme.

The battle rages on. Hundreds of blows are exchanged; blocks, feints, and dodges. Inevitably, some slip through my guard. I am bruised and battered. Ribs broken; left forearm fractured from blocking a powerful blow. Three teeth missing and my left cheek torn open, from a vicious backhand that shattered my helmet. Two fingers on my right hand are missing, from a poor block that resulted in the Winnower sliding their blade down the shaft of my weapon. My armor has been torn apart by the Winnower's blows, metal fragments littering the ground around us. Clad only in my voidsuit, I can feel the biting cold of vacuum on my exposed skin. Only the Light is keeping me from bleeding out or succumbing to the vacuum and I can feel it steadily dwindling as my connection with the Traveler fades.

For the first time in my life, I am afraid. Not afraid that I'll die, but that I'll never get to return to Light like my brethren. I don't know what sort of afterlife awaits a Guardian, or if our souls just pass into inexistence. But I know that if I am defeated here, I'll never get the chance to find out. The Winnower will keep me as a trophy of his victory until the end of time, a wretched slave to torment and abuse. Compared to that, nonexistence would be bliss.

But I'm getting close, now, I can feel it. The whole battle has been a sham from start to finish, the Winnower could have ended it whenever they liked. But they wanted me to struggle, to watch the hope fade from my eyes as they proved themselves stronger. So this entire time, I've been gathering power, calling on the Anthem. I don't know how much I need, but I do know there'll only be one shot at this.

But the Winnower is too skilled. I just need a moment. An instant, a second of distraction. Anything, to slow the Winnower down and let my strike connect. But I don't think I'll be so fortunate. Ever since I revealed what my spear could do, the Winnower has been careful not to let it touch them, simply teleporting out of the way whenever I got around their guard. At this rate… it doesn't matter how much power I gather, because I'll never have the chance to use it.

A ringing blow to my sternum brings me out of my reverie, sending me sprawling across the floor of the throne room. I grit my teeth and wait for the Light to dull the pain, but no relief comes. The Winnower laughs, long and loudly. "You see, Guardian? The Gardener has forsaken you, just as they have all their servants!" He cackles. "Every time I draw near, they flee, like the coward they truly are."

Reaching out, I try to grab ahold of my spear. The Winnower notices, and crushes my hand beneath his boot. I cry out in agony, as the bones in my hand break and fracture. Grinding my hand into the deck, the Winnower chuckles. "I'll admit, even I thought things would be different, this time. You've come farther than any of the others, but the Gardener is nothing if not true to their nature."

I groan in pain, trying to blank out the agony. This is… it? All my struggles, all my sacrifices, all for this. I want to scream. I want to cry aloud and curse the Traveler for abandoning me, as undoubtedly every one of my predecessors did.

But you know what? This isn't so bad. What's a bit of pain, after all? This is nothing compared to the time I was eaten alive by thrall in the Hellmouth. Nothing compared to the searing agony of Ghaul stripping away my Light. Nothing compared to the gut-wrenching feeling of watching your brothers and sisters torn apart before you. Even the Winnower said so, I've come further than anyone before me. So, the next guy will go even further. And the next, and the next. Until one day, we put him down for good. This… as painful as it is to admit, is just another step on the road to victory. Someday, somebody will finish my work. Closing my eyes, I await the bite of their sword.

As if in response to my acceptance of my fate, I can feel the pain of my wounds easing. It feels like the warmth of a sleep I've never known, the embrace of a lover from a life I can't remember. Is this what dying feels like? I guess Cayde was right, this isn't so bad. I wonder if I'll see him again…

"Not yet, O chosen mine." A feminine voice says.

"Snow?" I crack an eye open. A woman, crouching over me. Am I dead? Snow… Snow and I haven't spoken in years, not since Saturnine station. I was surprised, to hear she'd responded to my call for aid. "How'd you die?"

"You're not dead, Guardian." She says, standing up. Wait… she's… not Snow. Looks like her, sounds like her, but Snow doesn't glow pure white. Or stand comfortably in vacuum without a helmet. Above me, I can hear the Winnower screaming in rage and frustration.

"Gardener!" They roar. "So, you have come! Let us finish this game, once and for all!"

"I'm not here to fight you, Winnower." She says coolly.

"THEN WHY HAVE YOU SHOWN YOURSELF!?" They thunder.

She smiles. "Someone asked for a distraction."

The Winnower freezes. "What?"

This is it! Rising to a single knee, I sweep up Amenonuhoko, ignoring the pain of my broken bones as I drive it forwards into their back. The Winnower convulses as the tip explodes from their chest, flinging jets of Darkness across the room. Beside me, the image of the Gardener flickers and fails, as I pour all the strength left in my body into the spear.

All my Light, all the power of the Anthem, Amenonuhoko drinks it up greedily. It's… it's not enough. I've failed. My arm sags, as the Winnower begins to recover from the attack. Suddenly, a hand seizes mine, supporting my spear. Looking over my shoulder, I can see the Gardener standing behind me, putting her own power into the strike.

The Winnower cries out, wrenching themself from the blade. Frantically clawing at the hole in their chest, they turn to us, fear in their eyes. "HOW?" They shout. "You… no! It can't end like this! I won't… I'm stronger…" They shriek, as the hole continues to grow, Darkness bleeding away as the power of the Light and the Anthem scorch away their very identity.

"You are." I gasp, leaning heavily against my spear as I rise. "You are stronger than either of us..."

"You underestimated my servant." The Gardener says, laughing. "Almost as much as he underestimates himself. I always told you, your arrogance would be your downfall. In the end, I was right."

"Is… ah… that all there is?" The Winnower spits. "Who's right and who's wrong. The ancient argument that shattered us. I only ever wanted a perfect universe. What was wrong with my dream?"

"You misunderstand." The Gardener says, lip curling in amusement. "I couldn't care less for our argument. If it would have satisfied you, I would have conceded eons ago. But you demanded oblivion for my creations, and that I could never agree to. That is where your dream went wrong, for it comes at the cost of all other life."

"Life!" The Winnower screams. "Life! Why does life matter? No, why? You act, you believe that life has some intrinsic value! Who decided that? You prattle on about its sanctity, yet you don't shed a tear as my chosen are slaughtered! What makes us different!?"

"And you!" The Winnower snarls, looking to me. "She will cast you aside! That is her dream! An ever-changing cycle! Whether now or in a million years, your race will perish! I am your salvation!"

"And?" I ask. "I've long made my peace with that. Nothing lasts forever, your death is proof enough of that. Transcendence lies in the acceptance of death, not its denial."

"My death?" They laugh. "I cannot die! I'm a force beyond your reckoning! You've defeated me today, but tomorrow I return, stronger than ever! You cannot hope to prevail again!"

The Gardener frowns, turning to me. "They're right. Neither of us can truly destroy the other. It would spell the end of the universe. Still, this defeat will weaken them."

"I think I can do one better than weakening him…" I say, flaring my Light to steady my legs as I step forwards. "I didn't have much time to prepare, so… I hope this works." I place a hand on the Winnower's forehead. They glare at me, powerless. "You know, now that I think about it, this is the only technique I've invented myself. Everything else, I stole from somebody else. Huh." I muse, pulling on my connection to the Anthem inside. It buckles and squirms, before snapping into place.

Without a sound, the Winnower fades away, leaving a small pile of black dust on the floor. Hm. A bit anticlimactic, I was hoping for some sort of badass lightshow or musical number. "What… did you do?" The Gardener asks, confused.

I smile. "I call it the Chorus," I say. "I destroyed his corporeal form, and captured his paracasual essence before it could escape, anchoring it to my own. I figured he'd be immune to any direct attack I could think of, so I essentially… ah, forced him to possess me." The Gardener stares at me blankly." Practically speaking, I fused our minds together. He isn't technically dead, so the laws of the universe remain unchanged."

The Gardener blinks. "Wouldn't that… be rather risky? What if it changes you?"

"It probably is already." I say, shrugging. "It'll be… hard to tell, at first. Right now, we're still mostly separate beings, mentally speaking. Over time, we'll slowly begin to merge, until there's only one persona."

"So… you'll become more like the Winnower, and the Winnower will become more like you, until there's no difference between you both?" The Gardener asks curiously. "What if the Winnower becomes the dominant personality? He's far older than you, wouldn't his life experiences overwhelm yours?"

"Maybe." I hedge. "It's… this was the only thing I could think to do. If I do become a threat… well, I hope you can finish what I started."

The Gardener seems relieved. "You can count on that."

I shift in place, awkwardly. "So, what now?"

The Gardener looks around. "Now? Now, you have a war to win." She looks at me. "I can already tell you're strong enough. Stronger than the Winnower ever was, thanks to my own power. Use it. Rebuild your order and carry on the good work." Her smile turns melancholy. "As for me… I'm leaving. There are other species out there, in need of guidance. I'll leave my old shell behind – it's too broken to be much use anyway. As long as it's around, your connection to me should remain strong, so don't worry."

She's right – I do feel stronger. A lot stronger, like I could take on the entire universe without breaking a sweat. If this is what the Winnower felt like all the time, no wonder he didn't take me seriously. And all my injuries – gone, like they never existed. With a snap of her fingers, the Traveler takes us back to the breach. Around us, injured marines and voidsmen stir, crying out in shock and awe as they are transported here from the bowels of the vessel. Free of the confines of the ship, I can feel my awareness extend across the breadth of the solar system. Every life, human and alien, burns like a candle in the dark.

"Is this… how you see it all?" I breathe, nearly staggered by the sheer amount of information flowing in.

"Yes." She says, smiling at me. "I don't have anything to compare it to, but I imagine it's quite overwhelming."

"I can see why the Winnower saw itself as a god." I say, watching the fighting across the system.

"Yet we are not." She says, cautiously. "Do you know what you need to do?"

"Yes," I say, focusing. "I can do this."

Deep inside, I can feel a new power coursing through me. Along with the Light, with the Anthem, rests the Darkness, like the pool of sludge at the bottom of a lake. Yet… vast and deep, almost drowning out the Light with its mere presence. Dredging it up, I channel it through my newfound clairvoyance, targeting every human vessel in the system.

Suddenly, I can feel the lights of alien vessels begin to wink out, as the defenders' fire becomes more accurate. Flagships are targeted and wiped out, throwing the enemy fleets into disarray. On the ground, it's even worse. Hive Wizards screech desperate prayers to the Sword-Logic as their connection to the Deep is severed. The Vex superintelligence hesitates, Goblins and Minotaurs suddenly bereft of its guiding will. Fallen hiss and chatter in their guttural language, as the beleaguered human forces counterattack fiercely.

It's… incredible. And I can see it all. Know it all. With the smallest of touches, the tiniest bursts of power, I direct the defense of the system like a conductor his orchestra. A barrier here, to ward off an artillery shell heading towards a command post. A whispered warning to a voidsman, to check the barrel of a macrocannon before it overheats. A gentle nudge to the orientation of a battleship, to send an errant torpedo glancing off the armor. By the Traveler, if the Winnower ever took us seriously for even a moment, he could have destroyed the entirety of mankind. With this kind of power at my command… I could do anything.

Turning towards the Gardener, I open my mouth to speak – then close it.

'You could kill her, you know.' A treacherous thought whispers. 'She said it herself – you're more powerful than the Winnower ever was. Imagine what you could be, with both the powers of Light and Darkness at your command.'

'No!' I think. 'Why would I betray her? The Gardener saved me.'

'She is WEAK!' The voice whispers. 'And you are strong. Take what is rightfully yours. She is defenseless, strike now!'

"NO!" I shout aloud, shaking myself free from the voice. As it grows quiet, I can feel my perceptions shrinking again, that feeling of absolute power fading. That… what is that? Is that the Darkness at work? The beginnings of corruption? Looking towards the Gardener, I see pity in her eyes. And suspicion.

"Hearing things, Guardian?" She asks.

"A voice." I rasp, my mouth suddenly dry. "They want me to kill you."

"This is what I was afraid of. It seems the Winnower isn't as gone as I hoped."

I level my gaze with her. "So, are you going to kill me?"

She seems offended. "Of course not. You didn't listen to them, did you?"

I shake my head. "No. They're just a voice."

"And now, that you're not using the Winnower's powers?" She asks.

"Nothing." I say, suddenly hopeful. So, the Winnower only awakens when I draw upon the Darkness? But then…

The Gardener places a hand on my shoulder. "Then as long it remains so, we will have peace." Stepping back, she raises her arms. "Farewell, Guardian. Take good care of humanity for me. I'll be in touch."

With a flash of light, the Gardener is gone. The rest of the marines swarm around me, begging to know what just happened. I can't help but let out a massive sigh of relief. It's finally over.

Wait… "Hey." I say, silencing the crowd. "Where's… where's everybody else?"

The marines murmur among themselves. "I…" One starts. "I think we're the only survivors, Speaker."

I feel as though the floor is falling out from under me. "But… every Guardian in the system boarded this ship with us. Where are they?"

The marines exchange uneasy glances. "Maybe… they're still in there?" One says tentatively.

I turn back, looking into the cavernous depths of the vessel. How… how large is this thing? Thousands of soldiers took hours to cover barely a tenth of the vessel. And these men… judging by the look of them, they're in no shape to head back inside, especially if those Darkness constructs are still lurking.

I frown. "Alright," I say. "Listen up. Signal the transports to approach, start boarding. I'll remain behind, keep searching the ship for more survivors. When you get back to Earth, send reinforcements to help me clear out the ship."

"What about the target, sir?!" One yells. "Is the war over?"

"Yes, and no." I say. "The Winnower is… gone. The war is going better, though we have a long way to go. But we will win, I promise you."

A ragged cheer rises up from the gathered men, who quickly begin moving the wounded and equipment in order to start boarding the transports. Striding into the depths of the Pyramid, I offer a desperate prayer to the Traveler. "Please," I whisper. "Let me find them."

Omake: Fridge Logic

"Wow," Jaune says. "Just… wow."

"So, yeah. I'm sure you can guess how that ended." I sigh. "We win, but everyone dies, the end."

"That's not… I just…" Jaune trails off… "So, you're telling me there's a reason you're an amoral jackass? How am I supposed to resent you now that I know you sacrificed yourself to defeat the evilest being in the universe?! It's, like, my defining character trait! Can I get a do-over?"

I narrow my eyes. "Yes, I'm aware I've changed from the idealistic fool I used to be. And you don't have a character motive."

"That's the concerning part." Jaune mumbles. "So, if you have the power of God, why are you… not just using your God powers to do whatever you want?"

"It doesn't work like that." I sigh. "Yes, I could do a lot more than I am, but didn't you get anything from that story? Whenever I draw on his strength, I awaken the Winnower and accelerate the merge. Do it enough, and I'll be subsumed entirely. The only way to win is not to play."

"Didn't stop you from taking Ozpin." He mutters. "So, what about the Gardener? If the Winnower looked like you, why did the Gardener take the form of this… Snow person?"

I shrug. "Hell if I know."

Jaune frowns. "Yeah, but from the sound of it, you and she were…"

I roll my eyes. "Leave it to a teenager to latch on to the only part even hinting at sex. Yes, we banged. Let's leave it at that."

"And you didn't see anything strange about the Gardener assuming the form of your lover?" Jaune presses. "As opposed to, I don't know, any other woman?"

"I…" I close my mouth, thoughtful. "I think you're reading too much into it. Snow was probably just the woman I was closest to; it doesn't have to mean anything."

"What about that Ikora woman?" Jaune asks. "You seemed to respect them. Why not take her form?"

"..." I pause. "... Shut up."

"Just think about it." Jaune says, turning back to his homework.

I roll my eyes again. "This is real life, not one of Cayde's cartoons. Why would one of the creators of the entire fucking universe suddenly gain an interest in me? Hell, love is just a neurochemical reaction humans evolved to provide better care to their young! Why would the Gardener even bother with that?"

(Andromeda Galaxy, Cyno-Bezoar III, At that exact moment.)

The Gardener pouts, sitting down on her bed. Turning around, she looks at the full-size Izanagi Urs body pillow propped against the wall. "What!?" She cries. "What the heck do you want me to do, put up a fucking sign? It couldn't be more obvious!" She says. "It's been billions of years since I've gotten laid, momma needs some loving too!"

She sighs, before pulling Izanagi Mk. II into a tight hug. "Next time, I just have to be bolder." She says softly. "Just gotta finish up my work with the Cynosans, then I can pop back into the Milky Way for a while, surprise him." Standing up, she wanders over to a nearby closet. Swinging it open, she reveals an interior many times larger than the outside would suggest. "Maybe I should try something different next time? Humans… humans use clothes to indicate sexual interest, right? Or was it pheromones? Maybe the armor wasn't a good choice last time. Perhaps something more… suggestive?" She muses. She smiles. "I can't wait."

A/N: More talking. Yay. At least the chapter has a bit of action. I'll leave it up to you to decide which bits of the omake are canon though.

So, yeah, Izanagi has the power of the Winnower. As you can probably tell, it's not exactly been healthy for him, being the root cause of his callous nature. Only time will tell if he continues to slide, and how far. As for why he used it so freely against Ozpin, well… small-scale stuff isn't so bad. Brainwashing one dude (So long as it stays one dude, and not another, then another, then another, etc.) isn't going to make a noticeable difference, whereas scouring a solar system of all life will probably complete the merge entirely. So, he's not going to go full god-mode on the Fallen, since that would be just as bad, if not worse, than simply letting them kill everybody on the planet. After all, even dead people can be made into Guardians.

As far as what exactly he could do, well… In the games (pre-Beyond Light), Darkness could do... just about anything, just with a more destructive/manipulative bent. It really wasn't explained. And whether it's killing stuff, perceiving events across interstellar distances, or even bringing back the dead, (things the Winnower has been shown to do in-game) Urs can do it all. But, since he already has the Light Izanagi doesn't really need it for most things (read: fighting) save for the occasional brainwashing or whatnot, especially with the risk of corruption.

Now, to head off the inevitable question; 'Why doesn't he use his powers to bring back the Guardians who died?' Well, he can't. Dead people can be brought back by anybody with the power and knowledge, that much is established in-universe (The Traveler, Nokris, Oryx, etc.). So, he probably could bring somebody back from the dead, assuming he bothers to learn the process (spoiler; he hasn't). But at the end of their 'lives' Guardians don't die; they return to Light. As far as I understand it, their soul just dissolves into Light, meaning resurrection is not an option. Time travel is also a no-no, literally being the only 'cannot happen, ever' rule with paracasual force. So that's right out. He could probably do something with the Infinite Forest and the Vex, but since the Vex can't simulate/comprehend (I don't know? It's what I gathered from reading the lore fragments/wiki) paracasual force that's pretty much a dead end.

And now to head off the second inevitable question; 'Why doesn't he use his powers to undo the effects of the Great Confrontation/The Red War/The Collapse/Whatever the fuck happened in Beyond Light (I don't know, I haven't played it)? Well… he's apathetic. To him, it's just the way things are now, and isn't willing to shorten his lifespan further to fix something that isn't (to him) broken. Especially since humanity is doing a good job rebuilding already, and they don't directly affect him.

Why is the ability he used called Chorus? Well, think about it for a moment. A chorus is, essentially, dozens of voices speaking in sync. Seemed apropos, for an ability that revolved around absorbing defeated enemies.

Also, I will never write something this fucking long again for this story. My fingers... they hurt.