Two Weeks, Four Days Later...
"Eyes up Guardian.." The words were mere whispers in his aching head. His hands flew to his temples, rubbing them as his head pounded. Carefully his eyes would open, a hand moving to shield them from the sun as he turned his attention to the being that spoke. A small star shaped robot hung before his face, its single eye blinking at him in awe.
"Guardian..?" It would call again, but the Human ceased, convulsing in the seat to the point of his helmet falling from his head and landing heavily in his lap. The memories. The falling. Impact. The burning. He shrieked inside the cockpit, writhing as if he were reliving it all over again until he sat, panting from exhaustion. Tears rolled down each cheek, and a gloved hand moved to quickly and angrily wipe them away. The Memories were faded, rusty if you will, he could not piece them all together, but the newest ones were those that were implanted by the Ghost. Guardian, Forged from Light to destroy the Dark, a second chance at life. When blue orbs opened again, they were more understanding as they gazed upon the small bot, His Ghost, his guide.
They sat in silence for the remainder of the night, neither wanting to speak, not out of spite, but out of lack of what to say. Alas, the new found Guardian would shift, inspecting the armor he had been fitted with. It was not the best, but it was all the Ghost could manage this far from the Tower. In his lap lay his helmet, the old pilot helmet crafted anew with his aviator goggled melded to the front. ingenious if you asked him, he wondered why the military never created such a thing. Orbs would turn to the Ghost, mind mulling over thoughts before words finally formed, his first since his death.
"How do we get home." They were quiet, unsure and shaky words as the new found Guardian pulled the helmet over his head, the seal hissing lightly as it melded with the rest of his armor.
"I will guide you, Hunter, Guardian of light, what should I call you?"
"Feron." He would respond immediately, that was his name, but it was all he could remember of it. "And what of you Ghost? Do you have a name?"
"Pax." He replied immediately, its shell spinning contently. "Very well, Feron. If you would, please follow me. We must get you to the Last City. From there, we can commit you into the Vanguard." The Ghost would quickly vacate the ships cockpit, hovering eagerly while awaiting his newfound Guardian. Together, they would endure so much, but at least it would be in the company of one another.
To be continued...
