The deafening sound, amidst the bodies, Fallen and Guardian alike was all that dominated his thoughts. He knows the audio filters built into his helmet filtered out the noise, the sporadic gunfire and wines of shock rifles, Mixing in with the thunder of heavy weapons trading fire. But he swears he could hear it all, every bullet, every cry and scream. His name is Janus, the final defender of Section 12.
Section 12 is a forward defensive position, one of many that once surrounded the City's walls. The Titan orders built them after the battle of Six Fronts, forward posts to hold territory reclaimed during and after that great battle. Section 12 was built in Twilight Gap, a key approach to the Last City. Janus couldn't guess how many Sections fell, One? Five? All of them? He began this battle in command of 18 Guardians. His command consisted of eight Titan's, followed by six Hunters and four Warlocks. Good men and women that he led into the fight, that he had led to their final deaths. Janus himself was a Titan, a Sentinel who had mastered the void and its powers. But that mastery didn't save his friends and he doubts it would save him.
Janus reaches down, prying a Cordova-HC3 out of Viper-3's hands. Viper was one of his Hunters. She had a quick tongue and even quicker hands. But Janus knew she would want to see her precious gun put to use. He cycles a fresh chamber and strapping it to his hip. It is a pleasant surprise that the mag lock still works. His armour was a mess, dents, scratches and holes married the hardened metal. The built-in com unit, knocked out hours ago, preventing the call for reinforcements. It wouldn't have mattered, Janus knew they weren't coming. He is the wall that must defend this Section.
He hears them before he sees them. Fallen, soft chattering and footsteps essentially gunshots to his honed senses. Readying his Khvostov, it had been with him since the beginning. Time would tell if it would see his end. Janus rears backs and charges, void light enveloping his shoulder seconds before he crashes into a Vandel. All the while, the guns of the Gap continue to sing. Janus reaches into himself, pulling forth something all Guardians know, light. Specifically, the dark energy of the void. It coalesces into an illuminating purple shield. The group of Fallen he found himself in when to scatter, scrambling to find cover, he didn't let them. With a movement of his arm, the shield was flung, square into a Dregs chest. The disk bounces, hitting a Shank, then another, and another and another. Before long, all the Fallen Shank's were not but twisted metal, burning husks with void light wisps coming of their frames.
Another shield forms on Janus' arm, he lunges forward. Disintegrating an unlucky Vandal, the first of many to fall. A backhand strike impacts a Dreg, then Janus lands a blow with the edge of his shield on another Dreg. Punches, slams and kicks rain onto his foes. Janus becomes a blur as blow after blow tears into this Fallen party, disintegrating one after another which each strike. Janus feels his light drain, tendrils of light blow in the air around him, all that remains of those he just engaged, but the fight isn't finished yet.
Janus' arms sprung up, Khvostov firing wildly into a group of Dregs, gunning them down without a second thought. He kicks off into a run, while arc rounds were slamming into the heavy plate of his battered armour. Janus searches for his target if he can't take them out early... there! The Captain stood not even eight meters away. Half a dozen Dregs, three Vandals and a Wretch stood before him and his prey, child's play for all but the youngest Guardians. Janus was no young Guardian.
Continuing his charge, not missing a step as he reload his Khvostov. The empty mag falling to the ground, just another example of the battlefield Section 12 had become. Janus tosses a grenade at the Dregs. The explosive infused with void finding its way right into the middle, exploding with a shower of purple light, flinging what remains of those Fallen around the battlefield. His rifle spat out round after round, each one finding its way into the Vandals that stood in his path. Three found themselves burying into the Wretch's head, leaving Janus's an open path to the Captain. The fallen noble roars in defiance as Janus closes the gap. One shock sword swings, arc sparks dancing in the air as the blade falls towards Janus. Grasping his rifle by the barrel, Janus intercepts the blade with the stock, the two meeting in a show of sparks. Janus overpowers the Captain shoving its blade down to the blood-stained soil. Quickly ramming the rifle butt into the Captain mask with all the strength he can gather, shattering it. Turning the rifle in his hands, Janus unloads what remains of his magazine into the Captain's head, killing it. He believes that is the last of them, but he catches the shimmer a second too late, it fading to reveal a Marauder poising to strike.
A loud grunt echo's in Section 12 as a Marauder's Shock sword buries itself in his gut. Dropping his rifle, Janus reaches down to his thigh and drives Vipers gun into the Marauders' gut, unloading the chamber, blood splatter on his hands and the gun as the Fallen warrior dies a futile death. Viper would have found that poetic, another spilling of blood with her cannon even if she wasn't alive to see it. As the Fallen goes limp, its grip on the Shock sword becoming feeble, Janus falls to his knees. Grasping the sword by the hilt, Janus rips it out of his gut, leaving a blade-shaped hole in his armour.
"Ghost." Grunts out Janus, as he puts pressure on the wound to stem the tide of blood.
A flash of blue light beside him fades to reveal his Ghost. It quickly gets to work on repairing the damage. Janus feels the internal wounds caused by the Marauders attack sitch themselves together, torn flesh healing itself at a rapid pace.
"I was able to patch your com unit. But only for a moment." Starts his Ghost, its dry voice the only noise Janus hears right now. "I got a message. It was playing on all frequencies."
"What was it?" Asks Janus, as he quickly picks up his rifle and reloads.
"I was only able to get one word, Retreat." His Ghost pauses, he almost sounds, hesitant to Janus's ears. "It was from Lord Saladin."
That was all he needs to hear, for Saladin to order a retreat, the fight must be going bad. Janus stands silently staring at what remains of Section 12s outpost, surrounding it were bodies, Fallen and Guardian alike. Even what pieces that remain of the frames the Vanguard had given him were surrounding that place. Perhaps Perun old argument had the right of it. They should have been striking out at their enemies, acting instead of reacting. Janus shakes those thoughts lose, what's done is done, the Iron Lords of old are gone and so their beliefs died with them even if Saladin tries to keep them alive.
"Janus, what do you want to do?" His Ghost questions, he could hear the worry in his voice, for Janus and their friends in the City.
"If a retreat has been ordered then all remaining positions are trying to fall back." Janus falls silent again, he knows what he must do. Its the choice all Guardians make sooner or later. "We'll hold here, buy them whatever time we can to organize a counter-attack."
Janus does a check over of what ammo he has left. It doesn't matter in the end, if the Fallen want to kill him, they'll have to break his body not just make him run out of bullets. Janus is an old Guardian, and he trained with the Iron Lords. Guns will run dry, bones will break, blades will snap but his light will burn brightly till his final death. He moves with purpose back towards the outpost. He will survive, that he swears. All the while, the guns of the Gap continue their song. Once again drowning Janus in that deafening sound.