Harley climbed the tower wordlessly, his breathing a bit louder than usual in the thin air. Not that he needed to focus, he knew the route to the top. But talking would invite Prism to talk as well and that was something he wanted to avoid. He knew she was worried about him, about how he hadn't stopped for more than a few hours at a time after the prison break. About how uncompromising he was when it came to finding the Barons. If his Ghost started sharing her concerns, he was worried he'd lose her support in tracking them and that was something he couldn't afford right now. The hunt waited for no one.

Reaching the top of the tower, he found an opening looking out over Soriks' Cut - its range of view ideal for a sniper. He examined the Fallen rifle that was propped on a box. They were getting close.

He didn't know how many cycles it had been. What he did know was that four of the Barons were dead. The Trickster, the Rider, the Mad Bomber, and the Hangman. He'd ceased measuring the time when he'd arrived on the Shore. All he knew was his next target. And right now, his next target was the Rifleman. His vendetta was more personal with some Barons than others. This was one of them. The Rifleman had fired the shot that killed Sundance and Harley would make him pay for it.

"Harley…" Prism's worried voice tugged at his thoughts, "We need to talk." He shook his head. All that mattered was the hunt. "Well, then I'll talk and you can listen," she said stubbornly.

He felt a brief moment of softness in his chest. He loved his Ghost. But this wasn't the time for uncertainty.

"Harley, you know I want them dead as much as you do. But you need to rest. You haven't slept in-"

"Guardians don't need sleep, Prism."

"...Maybe not as much. But sleep deprivation will take its toll... Your focus will lapse and your reaction time will slow. Think about what that will mean for combat."

"I'll just have to finish this before that happens."

"That's not wise."

"Maybe not, but that's what's going to happen."

Prism might be stubborn, but so was he. They were two of a kind and he knew that she knew it too. She sighed.

"Very well. Just be careful. If the Rifleman can hit and kill a Ghost in one shot, I shudder to think what else he's capable of."

Harley nodded. Suddenly, a deep voice spoke over an open comms channel, grating on his ears.

"Ah… Target practice."

Harley's lips pressed into a line, but he didn't rise to the Rifleman's words. One thing was clear - the Rifleman knew that they were there. He peered out of the opening, scanning the terrain of Soriks' Cut. It didn't take him long to spot the enormous figure of the Rifleman atop some kind of large pipe. At the moment, the Baron was busy fighting with the Cabal on the ground.

Harley pulled out the bow that Petra had given him before he'd started hunting the Barons. It had been an unconventional weapon for him to get used to, but now he was as comfortable with it as he was with Paradox. And this fight was going to be one of distance.

He drew back the bow, aiming at the distant figure, and released an arrow. He saw it hit the Rifleman's shoulder. Nothing more than a flesh wound, if it had even managed to pierce his armor. All the same, the Rifleman vanished, teleporting to the roof of a nearby structure.

Harley drew and fired on him twice more before he dissipated into smoke, an ability of the Scorn that Harley particularly hated.

"Where's he going?" he asked shortly.

"He's heading for the Jetsam of Saturn," Prism replied.

"Got it."

Sliding through the opening, he let himself fall from the tower, catching himself with a jump before hitting the ground. He summoned his Sparrow and set off in pursuit.

He'd explored the Shore once before setting off on the hunt and the Jetsam of Saturn was perhaps his least favorite place. A Hive ship from the Dreadnaught's fleet had crashed there, spewing forth Hive and corruption. Fortunately, there were no Hive in sight when he entered the area this time.

The Rifleman was perched on top of a rock formation near the ship. He seemed to be glowing purple, reminding Harley of Void Light. Wasting no time, he sent an arrow at the Rifleman's head, causing the Baron to dissolve on impact. He paused.

"There's no way it was that easy."

As though to confirm his suspicions, the Rifleman spoke over the comms again. "You...missed...hahaha," he taunted.

Harley ignored him, hurrying over to the spot where the apparition had been. A strange disk lay on the ground where it had been. He picked it up.

"It was a decoy!" said Prism, "This must be what he used to create it. If you find any more, we should take it with us. You never know when something like that could be useful."

Harley nodded and let her store the disk. He looked around. "He must be nearby… Could you scan for him?"

"I could if I came out of phase... But given the current circumstances, I'd rather not."

"Yeah." What could be more foolish than presenting his own Ghost as a target for the Rifleman?

Something flickered at the edge of his vision. He turned, looking carefully. There was a flash of purple behind a large gun on the opposite side of the path. He aimed carefully before releasing the arrow and was rewarded with a brighter flash as the decoy was killed. He jumped down from the rock and ran over to the new site, picking up the disk. He caught another flicker and turned just as a void projectile hit his arm. He took cover behind the gun, hissing in pain.

Once Prism had healed the injury, he stepped out, sighting and firing at the same moment. Another decoy vanished. As he hurried over to pick up the simulation tech, he made sure to keep looking for the next decoy. As soon as it appeared on a rock near the large gun, he took it out.

"How many more times am I going to have to do this?" he grumbled as he retrieved the disk.

He shot down another decoy.

"How long until he shows his face?"

"Want me to show my face, little Guardian? Be careful what you ask for…"

"I've got him!" said Prism, "He's gone into that cave across from you."

"On it."

Harley leaped down and set off. He clambered over some debris from the Hive ship and descended into a tunnel that looked like it had come right from the Dreadnaught. Still, he pressed on, ignoring the similarities as best he could.

"King Uldren wants you dead," chuckled the Rifleman, "I bring him your body...keep your Ghost." He laughed again. "Sell its shell to Spider. Hahahaha."

Harley bristled at the Baron's words but did not slow his descent. Finally, the tunnel opened up into a large canyon filled with more greenery than he'd expected to see on the Reef.

"...According to local information, this place is called Hellrise Canyon," Prism informed him.

Across a crevasse, Harley could see Hive and Scorn battling each other. He began to pick them off with his bow.

"There's something else," said his Ghost, an odd tone in her voice, "I'm picking up two Ghost signatures nearby."

"What?!"

"We're not alone down here."

"Open a channel."

After a few moments, a familiar voice filtered through. "Ace?"

"Kay? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came here with Bazzle. The Vanguard sent us to stop you."

For a moment, Harley thought the comms had malfunctioned. "Stop me?"

"The Vanguard recognizes that we cannot afford war with the Reef," said Bazzle, "You have been ordered to disengage and return to the Tower with us."

Harley's shock at encountering his friends was swiftly turning to anger.

"Like hell!" he snapped, "You're telling me they want to just let Cayde's killers get away with it?! If Ikora could have, she would've backed me up herself!"

"That may be, but the fact remains that she can't," said Bazzle, "...Hayden, you've been given a direct order to stand down. Will you return to the Tower with us?"

Harley shook his head. "No way. I've come too far to let you two stop me now."

"Ace-" Kaedro began.

"No! How can you do this, Kaedro? How can you just stand by and let them go with no consequences? I thought you were Cayde's friend!" The Exo didn't reply. "I'm disconnecting this channel and going after the Rifleman," said Harley, "You'd both be wise to stay out of my way."

Bazzle's tone carried a sharp note of warning. "Hayden-"

"Don't contact me again." He closed the channel.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Prism as he stepped over the bodies of Hive and Scorn. "Maybe they have a good reason..."

"Not you too! Prism, can you seriously tell me that you'd be fine with letting the rest of them go? They killed Cayde and they killed Sundance. What kind of message does it send if we let them continue?"

Prism sighed. "I know. I'm still with you, Harley."

"Come find me, little Guardian," the Rifleman jeered, "I mount your Ghost on my wall… next to Cayde's…" He laughed.

Harley's blood boiled. He would sooner die before letting the Rifleman anywhere near Prism. He shot down another decoy, as well as some Scorn that were blocking the tunnel he needed to take. It twisted down through the rock, walls encrusted with Hive corruption.

He entered another open area and had to pause again to kill more Hive and Scorn. The delays irritated him. Not only were they in the way of him getting to the Rifleman, but they were also giving Kaedro and Bazzle opportunities to catch up.

Upon passing through another tunnel, he entered a vast cavern that glowed with a sickly green light. He looked around. The only way out was the same tunnel he'd come through. The Rifleman had nowhere else to run. He stepped forward and a decoy appeared. He shot it down and then shot another one that materialized on top of a pillar of rock. But as the second decoy dissolved, it revealed the actual Rifleman standing in its place.

"I seeee you…"

Wasting no time, Harley sent two arrows at him in quick succession. The Rifleman hissed in pain and vanished. More decoys popped up. Harley killed them, glancing around for the real one. Two decoys appeared right in front of him. Pulling out an arrow, he stabbed one in the chest before whirling and piercing the other's neck. The Rifleman stepped out across from him. He only had time to release one arrow before more Scorn were on him.

In the time it took to dispatch them, the Rifleman had moved and summoned more decoys. Harley did his best to avoid their Void shots as he shot at the Rifleman three more times. More Scorn came and Harley hurried backward as he knocked another arrow. He sent it into a group of Screebs, detonating them and killing the other Scorn.

Doing his best to avoid the decoys, he stalked the Rifleman across the cavern. He could tell his shots were landing. The Rifleman was slowing down, summoning more decoys. But there was something else going on. He seemed to be distracted by something, fiddling with his rifle. Whatever he was doing, it couldn't be good. Harley slid into cover behind a rock. He had a good line of sight on the Rifleman and - for the moment - he was out of the way of the decoys.

He knew he had to act before the Rifleman moved or used the sightline against him. He drew an arrow, aiming at the Rifleman's head. This was it. This would be the killing shot.

But before he could release the arrow, a voice called out across the cavern. "Ace!"

He flinched, head jerking toward the direction the voice had come from. That moment of distraction was all the time the Rifleman needed to find him. As soon as he made that aborted movement, Harley knew he'd made a mistake. He instantly regained his line of sight on the Rifleman, only to find that the Rifleman also had a line of sight on him. He saw the end of the Baron's barrel light up and knew that any movement he made to avoid it would come too late. But that didn't stop him from trying.

He lunged sideways and the shot connected. Instead of hitting him in the head, it pierced his lower left side. A strangled cry was torn from his lips. The bullet felt wrong. It was almost as if it had punctured more than just his body.

The Rifleman laughed. "Dead soon… I get your Ghost."

Harley drew himself up. The Rifleman hadn't moved. He stood in the same spot, laughing.

He was still laughing when the arrow pierced his neck, the laugh transforming into a demented gurgling sound.

Harley sent a second arrow after the first, this time penetrating the Baron's skull. The Rifleman fell to the floor, dead. A sense of bloody satisfaction took up residence in Harley's chest.

"That was for Sundance," he told the corpse.

Prism stored his bow for him and he stepped out from behind the rock, his hand pressed against his side.

Bazzle and Kaedro had moved further into the cavern. They turned from where they'd been approaching the Rifleman's body.

"Ace- wait, what's wrong?" asked Kaedro.

"Nothing. Got hit."

"You've killed the Rifleman," said Bazzle, "Will you now return to the Tower with us?"

Harley laughed humorlessly. "The Rifleman was just one of my targets... The Mindbender, the Machinist, the Fanatic, and Uldren are all still out there. And just like the other Barons, I'll make them pay."

"Hayden, think of how it will look to the Awoken if you kill Uldren Sov," said Bazzle, "Most of them are in the dark about what he's done. Most of them weren't aware that he was still alive."

"Petra knows. She agrees that he has to be ended."

"We're not saying he doesn't deserve it, kid," said Kaedro, "Far from it. But we just got out of the Red War. We can't afford conflict with the Awoken."

"So what? We're just supposed to let Uldren and the Barons continue to rampage across the Reef? If we do, we're putting the Awoken in danger! Even Zavala could see that!"

"He does," agreed Bazzle, "But he also knows that assistance must be offered and accepted through official channels. Not through a rogue Guardian seeking revenge."

Harley couldn't lie, the Titan's words stung. But he also knew that he wasn't giving up. His wound throbbed and he pressed down harder. If Prism hadn't healed it by now, then something had to be different about it. Something had to be wrong. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he passed out and he couldn't let that happen here. If he did, there was nothing to stop Bazzle and Kaedro from taking him to the Tower.

Bearing that in mind, he started moving toward the exit.

Kaedro stepped closer.

"Stay back!" he snapped.

The Exo paused, his hands raised to show that he meant no harm.

"You're hurt," he noted, "Let us help you."

Harley shook his head, the motion causing his vision to waver and dip.

"You'd just take me back to the Tower."

He continued backing toward the tunnel.

"Hayden," said Bazzel, "Surely you can see that this isn't wise. If you would only stop and consider-"

"I've considered enough! Uldren and the Barons deserve to die and no one else is stepping up, so it's on me to give them what they deserve."

He was almost home free.

Kaedro stepped toward him again.

"Kaedro, I'm warning you. Back off!"

"...Hayden, you should know that we are authorized to use any force necessary to stop you."

"Is that a threat, Bazzle?"

"No. It's simply a warning."

"Well, thanks but no thanks... You can try if you want, but I'm not giving up."

His next step landed on a rock, causing him to stumble. Kaedro lunged forward.

"No!" Harley shouted, throwing out a hand to stop him.

Heat surged through his body, pulsating outward in a fiery shockwave. Bazzle and Kaedro were thrown off their feet. Taking the advantage, Harley scrambled through the tunnel. Once he was back in the open, he pulled a spare grenade from his belt and jammed it into the rocks, hurrying backward.

The explosion sent a large portion of the rock tumbling down to fill the tunnel opening. Harley turned away and began walking as fast as he could manage, his hand still clamped over his wound.

"How long do you think that'll hold them?" he asked.

His Ghost's reply sounded worried. "No more than half an hour."

He nodded, pressing on in silence.

About halfway up the second tunnel, he felt his adrenaline begin to dissipate. His wound grew more painful with each step. By the time he'd reached the final stretch of the canyon, he was losing energy at a rapid pace.

"Prism...what's wrong...with the wound?"

"I'm scanning it now… Traveler's Light! He shot you with a Devourer Bullet! Those are deadly to Guardians."

Harley gave up on speaking aloud. It was tiring him out even more.

"Devourer Bullet?"

"The kind used for Weapons of Sorrow. Like Thorn."

"Oh."

Harley was familiar with the story of Dredgen Yor. His showdown with Shin Malphur on Dwindler's Ridge was legendary, especially among Hunters.

"How did the Rifleman get a Devourer Bullet?" he asked.

"No idea. But I'm pretty sure he had more than one. He must have modified the bullets to be fired from his gun."

The thought that the Rifleman had been able to get his hands on Devourer Bullets troubled Harley deeply. It wasn't as if Weapons of Sorrow were common in the Sol System. Far from it. But he couldn't give it too much thought at the moment. He had to concentrate on putting distance between himself and the other Chasers.

He stumbled out onto the surface and summoned his Sparrow, clambering into the seat while maintaining pressure on his wound. The rumble of the engine as he sped off jolted his injury, causing him to clench his teeth.

He soon lost all sense of where he was, flying across the bleak terrain of the Shore. The sunlight shining through the gravitational lens seemed too bright, boring into his eyes no matter where he looked. The landscape around him looked more washed out than normal, dipping and wavering in a way that had nothing to do with the motion of his Sparrow. The droning of the vehicle filled his ears, obliterating all other sounds.

All of a sudden, a large mass loomed up out of nowhere, sending him flying off of the Sparrow with a cry. He lay on the ground, groaning and clutching his wound. He felt a stickiness under his fingers and looked downward. A black substance was oozing from the wound, wrapping around his hand. He watched in horrified fascination as strands of it crawled up his arm. Was this how he would die his final death? Succumbing to his wound in the corner of the solar system on a cluster of Light-forsaken asteroids?

A crunch echoed through his head, followed by another. Footsteps. He'd been wrong. The Scorn were going to get him before the Devourer Bullet did.

Slowly, painfully, he dragged his gaze up away from his wound. A figure stood in front of him, the magnified light of the distant Sun rendering it a dark silhouette. Creatures leaped from the figures shadow, creatures made of pure night. They slunk toward him as the figure watched. He could feel his consciousness untethering from his body. Darkness encroached on his vision. Right before he passed out, he thought he heard a voice.