Chapter 13

Suros

Voidwalker Maximus

Five Days Later…

The Tower was slowly becoming my prison. I quickly found that there was very little to do besides read the materials in the library and walk around aimlessly while awaiting word from the Vanguard. Each of the first couple of days, I woke up thinking that everything had been a dream. That Arla and Charli were going to greet me in the morning, and we'd find something to entertain us for the day. Maybe explore the City since Charli hadn't gotten to do that yet, and Suros still wanted its Guardian, still insistent that it be one of my fireteam, but since we weren't allowed to leave, it made that idea a little more difficult to come to fruition.

Arla hadn't progressed any, and the doctors were reluctant to call it a coma, but they didn't want to call it unconsciousness either. They said that everything looked normal, but the psychological damage of losing what is, quite literally, a piece of you could have altered her permanently if she ever wakes up. Charli and I took turns during the day in intervals of a couple hours, waiting for her to wake up. That Heksis guy showed up early the day after our suspension, claiming that he was going to watch her 24/7 until she woke up. While I certainly admired his devotion, I eventually convinced him to let Charli and me take the day while he took the night. He seemed vigilant the first few days, but the last couple I've found him asleep in the middle of the floor, curled up in a ball still wearing his armor. Each morning when I took over, he would always whisper to Arla, "When I find out who did this…" and then leave tightly gripping the blades on his belt or fingering his hand cannons. Charli, when not watching Arla, would be in the media center, watching old news feeds or reading some article. The main reason I even knew about this was when she brought something into her watch or I ran into her at night in the center. She never struck me as the avid reader, but not everything is as they seem, something I've definitely learned over the last week.

I woke up in my bed after yet another long night. I sat up and pushed myself to the edge of the bed, feeling the cold carpet below my feet I couldn't rest with all the things on my mind. The longer they took to review everything, the crazier it drove me and the more certain that they were going to terminate my being here any longer. I tried to think what would become of me, a known figure suddenly kicked out of the organization he represented in the battlefield. Charli could probably leave without much regret other than what might've been, but it would be Arla that would take it the hardest. She'd been here for years. This had been her life, and it could all be ripped away in an instant while she was unconscious. Would they just dump her? I wouldn't let them even get the thought.

A knock at my door pulled me out of my thoughts. "Maximus?" a voice on the other side of the door called out. "It's Ikora."

I pushed myself off the mattress and answered, "Just a sec." I pulled open the chest of drawers and pulled out a shirt, sliding that over the bare metal that made up my torso. "Come in," I beckoned, opening the door remotely. Two figures strode through the doorway and walked in, Ikora and Cayde. Both wore their usual armors, but Ikora carried a slightly more personable look on her face than the serious poker face she usually wore while on duty. "Morning. Didn't expect you Cayde?"

He sat down at the small, round table near the small hallway that led to the door and reclined the chair with his feet kicked up over the table. "Oh, y'know. Just thought I'd say hello too." Ikora shooed his legs off the table but didn't sit down herself.

"I have another chair," I suggested, gesturing towards the desk on the opposite side of the room.

Ikora waved it away. "Oh no, I'd rather stand. We shouldn't be long anyway."

Cayde kicked his feet up again. "You never know though. We could kick up quite the conversation and stick around a little longer. It's been too long since Max and I have been able to just sit down and chat. Ain't that right?"

"Do that on your off time," the Warlock Vanguard responded, rolling her eyes at his recline.

"What off time? Thought being a Vanguard was a twenty-four hour gig." Ikora shook her head with a small smile across her face I sat down on the bed and clasped my hands together. "Alright, lay it on me," I said. I was fairly nervous because it would determine my future in a big way.

"Like I said, we won't keep you too long but we've finished reviewing the evidence regarding your charges, and we found some...anomalies."

"Hah, you could say that again," the Hunter Vanguard chuckled. "For example, that hot Exo chick, who's she? And don't spare any of the details." Ikora lightly punched him in the arm and shot him a scowl as well.

I hung my head. "I figured you'd find her. Her name is Dea. She claims to be an Agent of the Nine, and while I still have some reservations about that, her assistance in the field has gone unnoticed at her request. She was the reason that we were able to get into the Black Garden and the reason we investigated Caesar. I'll take full responsibility for our actions, but she was our source of intel. I understand that it was wrong to go behind the Vanguard's back like that, but we were doing what we thought was best to protect the City."

"So that's her name," Cayde said, staring off into the ceiling.

"Get your head out of there!" I snapped.

He shrugged innocently. "What? I guy can dream can't he?"

"Not when she'll slice you to bits without a second thought," I retorted, crossing my arms and shooting daggers.

Ikora rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath. "After careful consideration and review of her involvement in your operations, we have decided to condone her involvement and acknowledge that she was an integral part of the success in the Black Garden. However, we cannot necessarily support her methods of hiding in the dark until just the right time and then disappearing again. We have also decided to clear you, Arla, and Charli of all charges as, through your Ghosts, we were able to glimpse multiple attacks made by the faction you call the House of Illusion. While we cannot confirm or deny their presence in the City, we now certainly know of their existence and will do all we can to find out why they seem to differ so much from the other Fallen. The Rifle showed significant similarities to current Fallen tech as well as several new surprises."

"What kind of surprises?" I asked.

Cayde answered first. "Well for starters, they may have the capabilities of turning their weapons invisible and keeping them that way after firing. They've also developed lighter and more durable alloys that make the weapons much more lethal than your standard Wire Rifle and almost lighter than those Shock Pistols. We're also trying to get more data on their energy-based projectiles, maybe figure out some countermeasures that we can apply to new suits of armor. The strangest thing though had to be the scope."

"What's so weird about it?"

"It behaves like your run-of-the-mill sniper cope with variable zooms, but it also shows any invisible targets as if they were standing in broad daylight. They might as well not even be cloaked. It's crazy, but we were able to reverse engineer it. The only problem was that any modifications that we tried to work into it caused the entire thing to stop working."

I nodded. "That's definitely different from what we're used to seeing. So what happens now?"

Ikora took a deep breath. "Well, life goes on. We want you to continue your investigation into the House of Illusion. Your friend Dea said something about meeting with Variks up in the Reef, yes? Well, I've taken the liberty of arranging a meeting with him no strings attached, for you anyways. Anything that he requires of you lies solely between you two."

"Thank you, Ikora. I owe you one."

Ikora smiled. "No Maximus, it's us that owe you a lot more for what you've sacrificed for our cause. If it's any consolation, it was the Speaker and Zavala who suggested we review your file after they got done with Rasputin. Cayde and I were completely against it because we knew you were better than just attacking the warmind for no reason. We had to run the investigation though because there wasn't a clear majority opinion, and we had our suspicions about that Black Garden report." Ikora quickly switched gears. "Which reminds me, Zavala didn't want to let you off the hook without doing a few things for us. For one, we want that Black Garden report rewritten and resubmitted along with your Ghost's data for it, unabridged and uncensored. Leave nothing out no matter how scarring. We'll do the censoring ourselves depending on who wants to access the information. Cayde also wants you to take a reverse engineered version of that scope to each of the three main foundries as soon as you can, see what they can come up with by the end of the week due to your unique...relations with each of them."

Cayde jumped in. "Yes I do. A couple more things though. One, don't be scared to go out and do some justice for the City on your own. Zavala is just a stick in the mud for protocols and whatnot. What he doesn't realize is that a lot of our most definitive victories have come from Guardians going out and finding trouble themselves. Just don't find us any trouble with a super powerful AI with access to orbital death from above." He stopped for a moment for some reason.

"And the second thing?" I probed.

He took his feet off the table. "Oh, yeah! So, we've got a friendly wager going 'round the Vanguard on which foundry is going to make the best version. Care to join in?"

"What do the wagers look like right now?"

"Ah, but that spoils all of the fun. Minimum's 250 Glimmer, winner takes the pot. Plain and simple."

He certainly had a way with words. "You really do have a gambling problem don't you?" I laughed.

Cayde shrugged. "What can I say? I like pushing the envelope."

I laughed and shook my head. "Fine then, I'm in if for nothing else than to beat you again. 500 says Omolon wins it."

The Hunter took out a datapad and started tapping into it gleefully. "Hey hey, smart man right there. Just handing me the victory!. Suros is gonna DOMINATE this competition. Just imagine finding all those hidden Fallen scum looking through a sight that's suddenly not there anymore. Slick and smart."

"Well, I've gotta have faith in my sponsor. They're at the cutting edge right now, so I think they'll come up with something that'll make the other foundries jealous."

Ikora held up a guilty-looking hand. "Zavala and I are gonna laugh at you both when Hakke wipes the floor with both of your bets."

We all laughed for a minute or two. These were the moments I wish I had more of with the Vanguard. Those personal moments that made everything seem less...daunting. Just hit the pause button on life for a few minutes to sit back and enjoy each other's company for once without getting shot at. Cayde stood up and firmly shook my hand. "Best of luck to ya Max. Gotta go tell Charli the good news. You think she'd want to get...ow." Ikora shoved an elbow into his side. "Nevermind then." He started walking towards the door. "I look forward to seeing you pay up!" He exclaimed as he exited.

Ikora jokingly rolled her eyes at her colleague. "Never a dull moment with him around," she joked. She sighed contentedly and then started to leave. "That meeting with Variks is for tomorrow whenever you feel like it. He's got a clear schedule all day. Just tell them that 'Kora sent you." She walked out of the door but quickly turned around, poking her head in. "Like Cayde though, I look forward to seeing you pay up," she added with a grin.

"Bring it on," I called out to the door. There was a sudden, small flash of light just outside the hallway as Starco burst into the room, wailing about how sorry he was that he had to divulge everything and take away all of my weapons and much more. I didn't really listen to him because, except for Arla's condition, everything seemed to be ok for the moment, and I wanted to savor this feeling.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Charli was silent as we walked through the City, but her eyes were full of wonder and her smile full of relief as she watched Vern float by. She looked about frantically, trying to soak in every detail. Before leaving, I made three calls, one to each of the main foundries in the City. To Omolon and Hakke, I asked them to send their head engineer to the Starway Diner because there was an urgent matter to discuss. I still needed to call Suros, but I was sure that they would be all too happy to get whatever they needed of Charli right away while I met with the head designer.

Solely based on its looks, the Diner wasn't anything special. Harold Starway, the owner, was old fashioned in his presentation and service methods, employing more people than mindless machines to serve and cook food. The way he set up the chairs and booths also gave it a slightly retro feel, but really it was anything but. According to Harold himself as well as Martin, one of his top employees, they'd broken ground on some revolutionary culinary ideas, the least of which I couldn't partake of due to my lack of biological processes.

I looked up at the sign above the door. Gone were the old, cursive lights. The new sign still carried that classic red, but this time the font was much larger, more noticeable. The words were slanted to the right with a red rocket flying over "Starway's."

I pushed open the door and entered, the door ringing a small bell attached to the frame. Martin Quince, a human of African descent, stood at the old fashioned cash register. When I walked in, he was billing a pair of female Titans, one human and the other Awoken. The pair turned around carrying two plastic containers a piece and gave me a small nod as we passed. Martin turned around and drew a black line on a whiteboard behind him. "What's up Max?" he called out when he finished striking through whatever it was.

I looked about the dining area for a second. There were a few of the usual patrons, but none of them were the people I was looking for. "Not much," I answered, but he continued before I could return the question.

"You say that, but I'll probably hear about something heroic on the news in a few minutes," he interrupted. Martin had a friendly face with a voice that matched it perfectly. He'd been a good friend of Arla's for a few years now and had started working here not long after I became a Guardian, at least as far as Arla had told me. While I certainly took it upon myself to go out into the City as often as I could, I didn't really go out to make friends. Martin was a rare exception

"Funny. So what've you been up to? No good I presume."

He chuckled. "Oh you know me, saving the world one sandwich at a time. So what bad guy did you go out and shoot this time?"

I casually placed an arm on the counter. "Haven't left the Tower in a week, so I haven't really done much."

"Mmmhmm," he said sarcastically, giving me a look of joking suspicion. "I'll wait for the news." His eyes then seemed to look past me. "Hate to be rude, but is your friend gonna come in, or is she just waiting for you?" I looked over my shoulder and saw Charli standing just outside the door. To be frank, I assumed that she'd come in behind me and decided not to speak. Guess not.

Her eyes were aimed at her feet, her posture slightly slumped, and I could see her fingers on both hands flicking one at a time rapidly. Similarly, her hair was slouched forward, making her face hidden besides the places her eyes peeped out. I looked back at Martin. "I'll be right back." He nodded, and I opened the door. "You alright?" I quietly asked Charli. There was no response; it was like she didn't even hear me or even acknowledge that I was in front of her. I raised my hand to tap her shoulder but backed off when I saw a bead of sweat drop from her chin. Her entire body began to shake, her fingers flicking much faster and breaths becoming shallow and rapid.

I'd seen this before, especially in newer Guardians but, in my brief time as one, had ever heard of someone having these flashbacks as late as this. I reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She immediately seized my hand and ripped it off of her with an unpredictable strength, one that caused me to stumble onto the sidewalk before catching myself. Suddenly, her entire person jolted back. She knelt down on the ground rested on her hands her breathing much deeper now but her body was shaking uncontrollably. I approached slowly, unsure of whether the fit was over. I looked behind me and found that the street was, thankfully, almost empty. The few people that were there walked by save for one person on the opposite side. He wore a black trenchcoat and an unnerving, steely gaze. Three more people dressed in business attire walked by and shook the man's hand before all four disappeared around the corner.

I waited until the buildings marred my sight of them before I approached Charli. She was still on the ground, her breathing much steadier now. I knelt down next to her. "You alright Charli?"

Her voice was shaky as she replied. "W-what...was th-that?" she stuttered, still watching the sidewalk. Her whole body shuddered again.

"I'm not sure. What did you see?"

"I...saw Mars. The Fallen raiding one of our ships. I watched my friends die, their lives slip through my fingers. I saw bloody battles across the Martian sand, but they weren't ones I'd seen before even from the air. I-I need to sort this out before I can explain it."

I placed an understanding hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. Those are normal for the first few weeks of being a Guardian, or at least one that can remember his or her past. The Vanguard's told me about earlier ones that had no clue who they were or what they did except for that a gun shot one way and kicked back at them. Ikora told me about one she'd met a few years ago. He walked right into a Fallen meeting, even sat down at the table before one of the Captains took a swing at him."

Charli smiled a little bit and wiped away what looked to be tears rather than sweat. "Sounds a bit ridiculous to be true."

I shrugged. "Well, I've seen crazier. Who knows? Time might have magnified a couple circumstances."

Charli stood up and laughed. Her cheeks were red from the crying, but it looked like they were going to be rosy from smiling and laughing too much. She looked like she was going to be okay. "Remind me to tell you a few funny stories from my time on Mars later. I think you and Arla would enjoy them, maybe even that Heksis guy would like to join in."

"Maybe. He can be a piece of work though. You alright? We can always reschedule the photo shoot."

"I'm fine. Let's go get some food. I'm starving." She smiled once more and brushed her hair back.

"Good plan." I followed her into the restaurant and introduced her to Martin.

"Nice to meet ya," he said, shaking her hand and flashing her one of his cheesy grins. "Any friend of Max and Arla is a friend of mine."

"Hey Max!" a deep, gravelly voice called from the kitchen. A pair of eyes and a mustachioed face appeared in the slot in the wall that revealed a part of the kitchen. "How're ya doin'?"

"Just as well as I can Mr. Starway," I responded politely.

His face disappeared from the window, and he suddenly pushed open the kitchen door and stood next to Martin at the register. "I've told ya a thousand times at least, please call me Harold," he said as he entered. He looked toward Charli. "Nice to meet ya Ms. Hendricks. I'm Harold, Harold Starway, the owner of this fine establishment." She smiled, and he shook her hand vigorously." You need anything, just give us a call. Max here and Arla did us a favor that we can never repay, so consider it a token of gratitude when I say order anything off that menu free of charge morning, noon, or night." He smiled widely as he talked to her, Martin mirroring the smile minus the facial hair. Harold had always been a kind man, and the wrinkles that covered his lightly tanned skin came only from his undying smile. If there was one thing he didn't do though, it was mess around. He was always quick to the point, at least when he was talking to us. Martin was the more humorous side of Mr. Starway, his wit sharp and always raring to go.

Harold released Charli's hand and looked at Martin. "So, what's the young lady ordered?" he asked, extending an arm around his worker's shoulder and giving him a small squeeze.

"Nothin' yet, sir. You caught them before she could say anything."

"Well might I recommend the Guardian special then?"

A few teeth peeked out of her smile. She seemed to be embracing her new title. "Sure why not."

"You won't regret it Miss Charli." Harold turned on his heel and began retreating to the kitchen.

"Mr. Starw-" I cut myself off. "Harold," He shot me a thumbs-up. "Do you mind if I conduct a small bit of business here?"

"Nothing illegal right?"

"Of course. Just have to talk to some of the foundry designers about a challenge the Vanguard is offering them."

He laughed. "Go right ahead. Nothing like a little competition to keep the economy rolling. If you really need to sell it, tell 'em to order anything on the house they just have to say they're a friend of yours."

I nodded to him and then gestured Charli towards the tables. "Shall we take a seat?" He disappeared behind the kitchen doors, and Martin went back to cleaning the counter. A few minutes later, Martin grabbed a pair of plates from the window and set them in front of Charli while we sat at our table next to the window that looked out to the street. On it was several breakfast burritos that I recognized as Arla's favorites, bacon, something that looked like hash browns but flatter, and a bowl of something white with a bit of yellow in the middle. The last thing looked a bit like oatmeal, but it was thinner and a little more gritty-looking. I turned away from the food and looked out the window as Charli ate.

The pedestrian traffic was steadily growing as the sun continued to rise, but there was no sign of either the people I was supposed to meet. I reached down in one of my pockets and fingered the reverse engineered scope. It was by no means big, but its possible applications made it essential to our efforts if we were to stop the Illusion. If you ask me though, we shouldn't be putting this in a scope for use out in the field; we need to put its capabilities in helmet designs so that we can make sure there aren't any of them in the City. As a scope, we wouldn't be able to do much checking because nobody wants someone in heavy armor aiming a gun in their general direction. Of course, most people look less intimidating without a helmet too, but you had to sacrifice something get the desired result almost every time unless you wanted a chip in your brain (something far more feasible for me). We may be able to convince the Queen and Speaker to put out a mandate that requires security cameras to have a chip version of the scope's abilities. Then again, that'd be a hard sell because we'd be fiddling with political nonsense that I prefer not to worry myself over.

Regardless, the Illusion seemed to have a good idea of what they're doing, what strings to cut and others to tie. I couldn't confirm that they were in the City, but I had an inkling that they were, that they had been since the time Lee was killed and maybe even before that. Something told me that this was definitely not the first time they'd done this. Regardless of how many times, the question was why? Why would they destroy a civilization? Surely not by chance. There had to be something more substantial than picking a planet and inserting themselves into its airspace, land, and water. That was something I was hoping this Variks guy could help clear up tomorrow.

I looked at the analog clock that hung on an adjacent wall. 9:20. Both representatives agreed to meet me here at 9 on the dot because we needed to get to Suros' headquarters across town. I understand traffic, but, at the very least, the Omolon rep should already be here since their headquarters was just a few streets over.

"Everything alright?" Charli asked between bites of food.

I continued scanning the people outside. "They're late," I stated flatly.

Charli swallowed another bite. Her face was calm but her eyes were worried, probably from earlier. "I'm sure everything's fine. Something might've come up at the office. Business suits will always be like that no matter where, or when, they are."

"Astute observation for someone been here for less than a month," I commented, impressed.

Charli smiled. "Your friend Harold acted just like a friend of mine I had back on Mars, except he owned a salon. Really nice man."

Suddenly, my Clip (a type of phone) buzzed in one of my pockets. "Hold that thought," I requested and exited the restaurant to take the call. I held it up to my audio sensor and answered. "Hello?"

"Hey! Max!" It was Germain "Stone" Slater, the head designer at Omolon. "Sorry I didn't call you sooner, but I'm going to be a few minutes late. I had to be at an emergency meeting with the CEO, CFO, and Edg," (pronounced like Edge). Edg, or rather Edgar Cutlas, was the head engineer for Omolon. As with his last name, he had a very sharp sense of perfection and expected that of his engineers. I met him only briefly when I did my shoot with them. He seemed to be very focused on his work and always looking ahead to the next thing. I did not envy his position unless Edgar is a little more personable with his co-workers than me.

"It's fine. We're still waiting on Jordan too."

"Ah makes sense. I just ran into her just a moment ago. We should be there in five."

"Alright. Can I get something for either of you? Have it ready by the time you come."

"Umm…" he trailed. "Can't say I've been there before." He said slowly. "I'll check out the menu when I get there." There was a small pause on the other end followed by a pair of voices: one masculine and inquisitive, the other feminine and much more declarative. After something that sounded vaguely like "Alright," Germain spoke directly into his phone. "Jordan says she'll have the special, doesn't care what that entails, and a glass of OJ."

"Alright. I'll see you two in five." I ended the call and stuffed the phone back into its pocket. Charli had been watching me through the window, seated where I had been not too long ago. Noticing I was off the phone, she strolled over to the door and opened it for me. "Everything go alright?" she asked.

"Thanks," I responded, walking through the door. We both returned to the table, coincidentally sitting on the same side, her food now only an empty plate. "They just got a little delayed. Should be here in a few minutes." I glanced at the end of the table and realized I was unable to get out.

Charli noticed my change in attention. "Oh sorry." She moved to let me out. "Here you go."

I scouted out of the bench. "Nearly forgot to order for our guests." I grabbed the plate to take to Martin. "I'll take this while I'm at it. You want anything else?"

"I'll pass," she responded, taking a seat once more as I approached Martin at the register.

I placed the order and returned the plate. "You're doing my job for me," Martin joked with a smile. "I'll have it done by the time they get here." I nodded and returned to the table where Charli was leaning back into the plush cover of the seat.

I sat down opposite her. Her eyes were closed, half-covered by her auburn hair as a few strands drifted lazily down her face. It was still relatively early in the morning, but she was napping at least for the moment. Once again, I reached in my pocket and pulled out the device.

It was curious device, the reverse engineered one. According to Cayde, Banshee and his assistants couldn't get the tech to fit into a cast of the original case, so they made their own. It was essentially a piece of smart glass atop a gray metal box with rounded edges. The glass could be flipped up for use and down, like it was now, for storage. Somehow this thing could see the invisible, meaning Hunters like Arla could be hunted nearly as easily as their Titan and Warlock counterparts. I didn't know how it detected the invisible specifically, but Cayde had briefly mentioned something about detecting light distorted around an object in a certain way. It almost sounded like he knew more about it than he was letting on, but given how fresh I was out of "investigation" (suspension), I didn't want to press the issue. For the Illusion, this meant we could see their transparent agents, but the disguised ones would still likely remain a problem. We'd need the how if we were to effectively solve that problem. First things first, we needed to prove that they were in the City, and that meant it was too late. Screwed if we do, screwed if we don't. There HAD to be another way to price they were a direct threat to the City.

The bell rang, signaling someone's entrance. I looked toward the door and saw two figures, a man and a woman, walk through. The taller of the two was a man in a black and white Omolon Polo with "Design and Engineering" printed on one sleeve and the company's logo adorning the other. The logo was also printed on a breast pocket on the left side of the shirt. That was Germain.

Meanwhile the lady just a couple inches shorter than he was Jordan, dressed in Hakke's tan coveralls that were standard for their design and engineering "corps" (as they called it). Her black combat boots and hair spoiled any real professionalism her outfit would have normally brought. Her hair was unruly to say the least, the purplish-red locks stretching themselves in any direction they saw fit and curling at the ends of they liked to. She was very eccentric, but her work at Hakke was unparalleled as far as I knew. She specially designed a set of knives just for Arla, ones that she still carried with her just with a few minor scratches in the paint, symbols of use. As if on cue, Martin brought out her food as the two sat down, Germain next to me and Jordan next to Charli. Jordan immediately began to dig into her food, wolfing it down as if she hadn't seen food for a week. Germain looked amusedly at who was technically his rival, but thus far they hadn't acted like it, something that surprised me pleasantly.

While Jordan was eating, Germain settled into the seat and asked, "So what can we do you for Max?"

I set the sight in the table's center for them to see. "This is some reverse-engineered tech we recovered from some Fallen. We believe that it has the capabilities of seeing anyone or anything cloaked. The Vanguard wants to make this technology a little more...aesthetically pleasing I guess you could say, so they asked me to give you each one to inspire a little, shall I say, competition between the foundries."

Jordan looked at the sight and then back at her food. Meanwhile, Germain picked it up, feeling its weight in his hand, looking through it, and doing a variety of other actions as he tried to get a feel for what he could work with. "I can think of a few ideas," he said confidently. "But what would the Fallen need sights like this for?"

A good question indeed. "Most Hunters have the capability of going relatively invisible for a little bit of time, enough to inflict some major damage if they remain undiscovered. So why not have a cleverly hidden sniper be able to see the invisible threat and deal with it."

"How much time do we have?" Jordan asked between swallows of food.

"They want something in about a week. Something that works, but if you could get some prototypes done sooner, I can only imagine that'd help your odds immensely."

"And how will we know if we won?" she asked with a mouthful of food.

"I'd imagine you get a large order from Banshee soon after they've been tested in the field on top of the usual orders." Oh they'd get an order. Whether it be for my own personal use or a mass order from the Vanguard. They knew that the Illusion were out there with the rifle and the corpse. Whether they acknowledge their true threat, which I sure hoped they did before it was too late, would remain to be seen until we brought them an actual caracass.

The rest of the meeting went rather smoothly. Jordan finished her food, grabbed her piece and exited alongside Germain. AFter she'd eaten and while we continued to discuss the details, she pulled out a datapad and began drawing what I assumed were schematics, many of them. While drawing, she uttered very few words but seemed to remain attentive as I answered Germain's questions to the best of my ability. He tried asking which House it had specifically come from, but I had to withold that information for the time being. Before they left, I asked that they not go public with this. I asked them to assemble a team of their finest to create the new versions and improve their functionality. Curiously though, Charli refrained from saying a word the entire time. Her face remained stone, stark, and void of any expression besides the occasional blink as her attention faded to her subconscious. Deciding to give her a few more minutes, I returned to watching the passersby go about their business. After about three and a half minutes had elapsed since Jordan and Germain left, I gave Charli a slight nudge beneath the table, immediately snapping her back to reality. Her eyes suddenly went wide with fear and darted in every direction rapidly, beads of sweat had begun gathering at her forehead, and her breathing had turned a little heavier. She calmed down within a minute or two, but her eyes remained glued to her hands on the table, like she'd seen a phantom.

"Everything alright?" I asked, extending a hand and gently patting one of hers.

Her head suddenly snapped up so that she was looking me in the eyes, her hands returning to her lap in almost a reflexive motion. "Huh, Wha-?" she stuttered at first but quickly recovered. "Oh, it was the vision. It returned, but it seemed a little fuzzier. Like I could see and hear everything but not interpret it. It was weird."

"That's I good sign," I reassured her. "Means that they're going away. They should stop by the end of the day."

Her eyes seemed to relax. "What do they mean though?"

I thought for a moment. Truthfully, I didn't understand either, but I had a theory. "I'm not sure," I began. "I think it's just your mind adapting to the Ghost's presence." I was still surprised that it was happening now. As far as I knew, which probably should've been farther at this point, I had never heard of any sane Guardians having these sorts of visions past their first couple of days. At the same time, I hadn't heard of a Guardian losing their Ghost and waking up with all of them still there.

I pushed those thoughts away because I couldn't stand the thought of going into the field without Arla. She'd been there for me pretty much since day one, the day where I saved her life the first time. I chuckled internally at how many times I had found myself in a similar situation. That day at the Cosmodrome, the Wall, The Devils' Lair, Venus, and the Black Garden. Though I was sure I was missing a couple there. I guess I had stopped noticing really. Though she'd saved my skin a few times too. I just regretted I couldn't do anything for Lee once he had gotten healthy after I'd hit him with the rocket. Arla insisted it wasn't my fault and that Lee had something like that coming eventually, but it didn't make Lee come back, no offense to Charli.

"Well if a few visions are the least I have to worry about, I'll enjoy that before I have to get shot at again." Charli leaned back in her seat once more as she said this.

"Hate to spoil the relaxation, but we need to get going. The others are probably going to get to work on those immediately, putting Suros at a slight disadvantage."

"I thought you bet against them"

I briefly considered that. I hadn't really thought of it that way, not much of a gambler unlike. "Please tell me they didn't drag you into that," I said, throwing my head back and placing my hands on my hips.

"Cayde certainly tried," she responded with a laugh. "But I told him I didn't know enough about the foundries to make a good bet. Of course he, like any gambler I've ever known, told me just to choose one, but I declined and Ikora shot him a look that was that." Charli slid out of the booth. We thanked both Martin and Harold and exited. The foundry was a good twenty minute walk from here at a brisk pace, and under normal circumstances, I would have hailed one of the cabs that flew above our heads or had my ship just take us, but I'd been cooped up in the Tower for the last week. I was going to enjoy the fresh air and the crowds. At this point in the morning though, there weren't many people on the street, most of them at work, but that didn't deter the dense throng that usually gathered around the market area, full of hydroponic and soil-grown herbs, foods, and spices. I was certain that it smelled absolutely delightful, mostly based on the look that ran itself across Charli's face as we walked through.

The market was quite literally a large, concrete square that seemed to stretch on. Countless carts and stands composed its outer perimeter and then several smaller squares made of yet more stands made the inner space. It was a place where people of all walks of life gathered, including Guardians, but oddly enough, many citizens gave them their space as they too meandered, whether out of respect or fear I knew not. While Charli momentarily perused the various products, I scanned the crowd as it flowed by, looking for a familiar face, perhaps Layma or Roald, but I had no such luck. Only faces without names passed by giving me a two or three feet of radius. A couple people seemed to recognize me faintly and looked at me as they passed but said nothing. While Charli was gone, I called Suros to set everything up. As expected, they were able to fit us in without any trouble at all.

After she'd had her fill, we continued through to the opposite corner and took our leave. From there, it was another ten minutes to the steps of Suros' headquarters. Suros was a sleek building with few corners and three steadily thinning tiers that contained the corners I could see. Most of the outside was glass sloping into an elegant archway that flowed from white to orange as if it were water. Waiting past the sliding doors of the front entrance were Thomas Yang and Shevra Devalen, according to their nametags. Devalen was an Awoken with long, bleach white hair thrown behind her head and blue glowing eyes. Yang was Human with jet black hair and a rounded complexion. His face was pressed into a straight line as we entered whereas his counterpart was only smiles, excitement seeming to radiate from her. Both wore sleek and elegant labcoats that shared the orange and white of practically everything within the lobby with "SUROS" written in black print above the breast pocket as well as on each sleeve. The shapes of the orange and white differed between the two, probably marking what department they were in, but that was just my theory.

Shevra extended an excited hand towards me. "Shevra Devalen at your service Mr. Maximus," she squealed, beaming. She shook my hand vigorously and then moved to my companion. "And you must be Miss Hendricks. Welcome aboard!"

Charli returned the smile as she shook her hand. "A pleasure. Please just call me Charli."

Shevra took a step back and let Mr. Yang silently shake each of our hands. His grip was surprisingly strong for someone who didn't look too athletic on the surface. He was a tad on the scrawny side of the scale, underweight as if he didn't eat more than once or twice a day. Shevra immediately compensated for his silence by adding, "This is Thomas Yang. He's one of the lead designers here. He's dealing with a bit of a sore throat at the moment, so he probably won't talk much." An awkward silence followed momentarily. Devalen continued to beam, something that made me a little uncomfortable. The grin was almost unnaturally large and only emphasized by her thin lips.

Charli broke the silence. "I believe we have some pictures to take Ms. Devalen?"

"Oh! Yes, yes. Plenty to do in a short time indeed. Let's get to work. Maximus, Thomas will show you to the meeting room. You had some business to discuss with him and Mr. Tran?"

I nodded to her and Charli and began following Mr. Yang towards an elevator located just beyond the semi-circular reception desk at the back wall. He punched a button as we entered and then stood with his hands clasped behind his back as it suddenly shot up. His continued silence made me uncomfortable for some reason. He would glance at me every couple of seconds, but it wasn't toward my face. Rather, it was toward my back...my weapon.

With only a thought, I had Starco despawn each of my weapons save for my sidearm which I had holstered within my robe. "Sorry," I said. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He said nothing, only nodded. I found it awfully ironic that he would be unnerved by my weapons when he worked in a weapons foundry, designing them day in and day out, testing them when they had a suitable prototype. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Dea's rifle, one with components he would've never seen before. At the same time though, wouldn't he be more curious than scared of it?

Before I could get an answer, the door opened to a hallway painted in waves of red and white. Doors labeled "Lab" with a number next to it. Inside I could see several touch-screen boards with advanced calculations and blueprints drawn on their otherwise transparent surfaces. Most of the rooms featured what looked like 3-D printers and a variety of tools that I either vaguely recognized or never seen before. We continued down the hallway, made a right, and then entered a tall door with translucent glass on the right.

The conference room was rectangular in shape and had a large, wooden table at its center surrounded by chairs. Windows occupied one of the walls, affording us an impressive view of the City as it lay below us. I turned to the man, the sole inhabitant of the room aside from myself and Yang. He was a lanky individual in an expensive-looking black suit without much muscle on him and a serious face contorted into a grimace (reflected in the glass) as he looked out over the metropolis with his back to us.

"It's a crying shame," a tender yet stern voice called out from the chair. "That this City lauds undead soldiers to go and fight while they sit here and run from one useless thing to the next without much, if any, concern for what people like you go through. They throw three people into a pit of darkness, expect them to do the impossible, come back, and do it all over again. It's ridiculous if you ask me. Should be if you ask anybody, but the reality is that nobody cares nearly as much as I do." The man turned around in his chair with a small smile on his face. You could say his skin was kissed by the sun, but that wouldn't quite explain how dark his skin really was. It wasn't black, but it was probably as close as you could get and still be healthy. "THAT'S why my father founded this company. That's why I continue his legacy. To provide the best weapons to those who defend this city and make them look good while doing it." He leapt out of his chair and lightly jogged over to me. "Xavier Tran, CEO of Suros. Pleasure to meet you Maximus." He gave me a firm handshake and invited me to sit down near the window. Yang sat on the other side of his boss and remained expressionless.

Without wasting time, I jumped into explaining what we'd like the scope to accomplish at this point. Like any good businessman, he asked what was in it for them, so I told him what I hypothesized would happen just as I had with the others. After hearing my spiel, Mr. Tran tapped his chin. "So significant profit. A sound proposition for a business, but may I ask why the Vanguard are only giving us a week?"

That was the question I was afraid he'd ask. "I wish I could say," I admitted. "But I'm afraid I can't. Security reasons."

His head seemed to lower a bit. "Can't lie. I'm a bit disappointed. I'd rather not send my engineers to design something without knowing why, but if it keeps us safe, just make sure you use it well. Can I see this device?" I handed him the sight and he marveled at it for a moment. He looked at it from several angles and then peered through the actual glass. Suddenly, his face seemed to darken. "Have you actually tested to see if it works?"

"Personally? No, but I'm sure the Vanguard had tested it. Beg your pardon, but why do you ask?"

"Because it seems to be picking up something." His voice sounded suspicious, unnerved.

"Let me see." Yang said in a very hoarse voice, as if he'd yelled in a closet for hours beforehand. He struggled just to get the words out it seemed. His eyes narrowed, and I joined them, looking curiously over Mr. Tran's shoulder. I didn't think that it would work while unattached, but the scope highlighted a blurry, humanoid form standing in the corner by the entrance in bright orange.

I pulled my gun out. "Show yourself!" I commanded. I straightened and kept my sights trained on the door. "Stay behind me," I ordered the other two, who had taken cover under the table. I approached one step at a time, holding my gaze where I remembered it being there. "Mr. Tran, I need you to watch that thing. The table the safest place, but I need your eyes."

"R-right," he stuttered. I could almost guarantee he was still under the table, just watching the feet. I took another couple steps. "What the-?"

I turned around just in time to see Mr. Tran fly through the window with Yang's arms in the follow-through, the safety glass shattering as if it weren't even there. I immediately turned my aim to Yang and suddenly felt my arms wrenched back, causing the shot to plow into the ceiling. Whatever had me whirled me around, smacked the pistol out of my hand, and kicked me through the window.