Smoke and fire laced the air as bullets and bombs blocked out any other noise.
The Tower was burning.
Fighter ships screamed through the sky, as what Guardians remained tried to defend their home from aerial attacks. The enemy ships were many, and shimmered through the sky in a menacing and albeit familiar black and white glow. The clouds parted as monolithic mother ship descended from orbit. The Tower Plaza was awash with panic. The most experienced Guardians were mostly in the sky, or offplanet leaving only a handful of defenders to protect the newer and inexperienced ones. And Cayde-6 was right in the middle of it.
"Get those people below!" He was yelling at a fellow hunter, motioning to a small crowd of tower attendants, civilians and younger Guardians that were taking cover on the other side of the postmasters counter. She nodded and spun on her heels, narrowly avoiding a cannon shot from a Taken Cabal Centurion that materialised on the other side of the small building. Taking a step he flicked his wrist, sending his knife whirling through the air as he drew his hand cannon, launching a volley of shots. His knife penetrated the Cabals shield, knocking it off balance as the gunshots all hit their mark punching holes in its upper chest. The Cabal fell to the ground, smoking. Cayde-6 ducked into cover behind one of the columns on the upper grass verge. "Zavala? Ikora?" He yelled across their shared communication channel.
"Zavala here!" The Titan yelled back, he was down in the city with a small group of Titans routing whatever enemies had attempted their attack there. The Titans did not take cover. They did not falter. They defended. This was their city. And they would stand fast. The civilians watched from the rubble of their homes as missiles that would kill any man or woman hit Zavala and his Titans, the metal crunching into the armour, the flames curling around them turning to naught. Unstoppable. Or so they thought. The ground shook. Eyes cast up towards the sky. "What in the Speakers name is that?" Zavala yelled, not daring to lose his focus.
"It's that ship!" Ikora screamed across the channel. "It's doing something to the Traveller!" Ikora had the perfect view from the uppermost point on the very roof of the tower. She had taken to the roof with what Voidwalkers she could muster in an attempt to set up a mortar formation using their abilities. As they directed their Voidlight upwards, they could see clearly as the gigantic ship finished its descent and begin channeling a grey, dull energy beam straight into the Traveller. "We need everyone! I think... I think they're Taking the Traveller!" She screamed, panic and fear lacing her normally calm and levelled tones.
"The call was made, there's nothing more we can do!" Cayde-6 replied.
"This all started when that shard left the Traveller! Do we know where it went yet?" Zavala yelled back, his voice joined by sounds of intense fighting.
"Mars..." Cayde-6s voice trailed off. "It went to Mars!" He moved across the plaza, letting loose more shots from his hand cannon as he did. "Wait... I'm getting another reading! Another ship, its coming out of FTL!" A powerful crack echoed as the ship burst into view, directly between the enemy mother ship and the Traveller. While around half the size of the invader, it was no less a welcome sight as it smashed through the stream of energy, cutting of the flow as its advanced Shields dispersed the light.
"It's the Rose!" The Exo yelled, hope renewed he attempted to open a communication channel.
"That was too damn close; they nearly hit the Traveller!" Zavala scolded, though the tone of his voice gave away his relief. The air was renewed with more vigor as the Rose began firing it's numerous cannons, clearing some of the enemy fighters but focusing much of its assault on the larger mother ship that it stood against. The two gigantic vessels stood as polar opposites; light and dark.
"Zavala, uptight as ever I see!" A voice broke through the channel. "We thought you guys could use a hand!"
"Thank the heavens!" Ikora replied. "Is that-"
"Ma'am?" A hand gently shook the warlock awake. "Ma'am? There's a message for you down at the front desk." Boltwing shook her head as the dregs of the dream escaped her. This wasn't the first time she'd fallen asleep in Old Accra, and it wouldn't be the last. Old Accra was the Last great Archive in the last City. Spanning at least a mile above ground, and a long way below it. Warlocks naturally flocked here in their quest for knowledge, and to that extent: Power. Book reading and rummaging though data was akin only to breathing for most warlocks, but to Boltwing? She had seen the universe. The Light, and the Dark. Those times seemed a lifetime ago and in these more peaceful years she and her clan had retreated into the shadows. She stood, her blue robes falling to her feet as she dusted the bones that decorated it. Hollow reminders of the months spent in the Dreadnaught. She adjusted her helmet, which she rarely removed. Black and sturdy, constructed from the blessed skull of an ancient golden age animal with horns at least a foot and a half tall.
"What is it, Initiate?" She spoke sternly to the novice warlock who interrupted her rest.
"There's a message!" He squeaked. "Uh... Its a the front desk."
"Very well." She groaned as she got to her feet, stretching. Glancing to her right, she noticed the young man still there.
"... What?"
"I was just... Uh... Can I ask you some questions while I escort you?" He said nervously. Boltwing generally kept her achievements hidden from her peers, but in a place dedicated to secrets it wasn't surprising how fast people learned yours. She stepped outside the door to the small room, carefully avoiding the stacks of books the piled everywhere. She sighed.
"Come on."
"Thankyou Ma'am!" He half hopped, half walked out of the room behind her as they set off at a quick pace. "Why do they call you Boltwing?" His first question. An understandable one she thought, still pointless.
"Names are just that. Never think too much into them. I hope the rest of your questions are more interesting."
"I'm sorry...". Boltwing sighed again.
"An old friend gave it to me when I was first revived. We all gave each other our names."
"What were the others?"
"There are a lot of us. Pick another question."
"Well... A lot of us... Initiates I mean, well we always wonder what Kind of Warlock you are? Lukas thinks you're a Voidwalker, but I always thought you must be a Sunsinger. I mean, no one could survive what the stories say without dying at least once." Boltwing stopped dead on the spot, so suddenly the initiate had to step back to her.
"You really want to know?" She asked. He nodded in reply. She held out her right hand, palm facing up and fingers splayed. A spark lit in the centre of her palm and grew into a bright and steady flame. The young warlocks eyes widened in amazement.
"I knew it!" He exclaimed.
"Hang on a sec..." She said, bringing up her left hand. As he watched her a tiny black ball grew from nothingness, much in the same way as the flame. It grew to about the size of a grape and emanated the black light the echoed from all Void light.
"Oh my..." His voice trailed off as she started to move her hands up and down.
"Don't blink... You'll miss it." She slowly turned her palms inward so they were facing one another as crackles of electricity emanated from the backs of her gloved hands.
"What in the world?" The initiates thoughts were interrupted as the Void and Solar energy in her hands flashed away, separated by the Arc energy now connecting in the space between them. "You control all three?"
"Mastered them. Sunsinger, Voidwalker. Even Stormcaller. They hold no secrets from me." Boltwing replied as the energies evaporated and she lowered her arms.
"Teach me..." The Initiate said, clearly fazed.
"Your path is your own, I had no help and am stronger because of it. We're almost there, one more question." She stated, resuming her quick pace.
"We've heard a lot of things, a lot of... Uh... Stories. Are they true?" He asked slowly.
"Yep." Boltwing simply replied.
"Which ones?" He said excitedly.
"All of them." She left him to his wonderment as she turned the corner into one of the many lobbies scattered through Old Accra. Due to the thickness of the walls and the obvious problems being so far underground presented, it was extremely hard to communicate to the outside world. The lobbies had direct, hard wired connections to receivers topside so when you needed to send or be sent for, these are the places you wanted. The attendant was pleasant enough, showing her to a booth before taking her leave. Boltwing waited as the holographic display connected her to the receiver and displayed her message. It was sealed with the symbol of the Vanguard.
Hm, she thought. Interesting.