I'm going to kill him! I'm going to wring his blasted neck until his eyes pop out! Leaving this lecture high and dry…of all the selfish, irresponsible, lazy things for Cayde to do..!

Rahool fumed while he paced in front of the auditorium doors. There was just fifteen minutes to go until Cayde was due to be seen onstage. People had been steadily arriving at the College for the past hour to hear him speak. Several primary school classes had already paraded by. College students with free time were filing in the doors to grab a seat. The atmosphere was carnival. It didn't matter to the audience what the topic was, so long as a Guardian could be seen today. Cayde could have talked about anything — classical physics, dog training, even toenail fungus, for the love of the Light! — and the hall would be packed. Rahool tried not to think about how extreme their disappointment would be if Cayde did not show up. Especially since he was the only one around they could take their disappointment out on…

Jorin stood nearby, looking around the Commons for any sign of the Hunter Vanguard. The boy had been last to demonstrate in the second round of exams, and Rahool had been so blown away by what he had seen he almost forgot all about the fact that Cayde had never shown up in the hotel lobby that morning. Rahool had bade Jorin to come along with him to the auditorium so they could discuss some of the finer points of his demonstration, hoping he could keep himself occupied enough to keep from throwing a fit. It was tough trying to keep calm in front of Jorin while inwardly he panicked about Cayde's whereabouts. Nevertheless, the boy was picking up on Rahool's agitation.

If the crowd was going to be disappointed, Ikora and Zavala were going to be outraged. They would give Cayde an earful, no doubt. Then they would turn their anger upon him. The Traveler save him, they'd forbid him to leave the Tower too! He'd be stuck just like Cayde! The Cryptarchy would be shamed beyond belief! He'd be the butt of every Warlock's joke until the next Age!

"Sir! I think I see him!"

Rahool turned abruptly to see Jorin pointing excitedly down the Commons. It only took a moment to pick Cayde out of the stream of people heading their way. He strode up the concrete path, cloak flaring behind him, Ghost at his shoulder. Rahool let out a sigh of relief. At this point, he didn't care if Jorin heard. He also didn't care if Cayde saw the murder in his eyes. As soon as the Exo drew near, Cayde could see that he was in trouble. He sauntered up, hands resting on his belt.

"Heeey, Cryptarch — "

"Give me one good reason not to call Ikora this very minute!" Rahool snapped.

Cayde raised his hands in supplication.

"I know! I know! I messed up. I'm sorry I'm late. But, uh, you shouldn't call her because I'm here now. So…you won't call her, yeah?"

Jorin looked between Cayde and Rahool with awe. Rahool wasn't sure what the boy was more impressed by, a real Guardian standing before him or an enraged Cryptarch daring to holler at that Guardian.

"You made yet another deal with me," Rahool seethed. "And this is the second time you've broken my trust! Do you realize what kind of a mess we could have been in had you not shown up in time? Where in the Light have you been?"

The crowd shuffling into the auditorium was now staring. He knew he was making a scene, but he had reached the end of his rope. Cayde's Ghost flitted over to Rahool.

It's my fault, she chirped disconsolately. I should have roused him sooner. You see, he'd had a bit too much synesthete at the Wall. I was looking at the stars until sunrise with Adama's Ghost, and —

"You were drunk?!" Rahool cried. More people began to stare.

"Shh! Not so loud!" Cayde looked around in embarrassment. "I wasn't drunk! She's exaggerating!"

Exaggerating? I needed to cleanse your neural pathways from the synesthete's effects several times last night! His Ghost buzzed indignantly.

"I just lost track of time hanging out with some old friends," Cayde cut in. "The only reason it took so long to get here was because we were way out on the eastern perimeter. Do you know how many trains it takes just to get over here? I do not remember taking that many last night!"

So he had been out carousing with Guardian friends. Rahool knew Adama and his fireteam in passing. He supposed he should count himself lucky that Cayde had returned at all. Adama was not known for mild nights out. Not to mention he could disappear off the radar even better than most Hunters, making it hard for even Cayde to pin down his whereabouts.

Rahool took a calming breath. He looked Cayde up and down. The Vanguard didn't seem too worse for wear. Somewhere along the way he'd found a place to change into fresh clothing. His Ghost had wiped away any effects of the synesthete. Thank the Light for that! The icing on this blasted cake would be Cayde going out intoxicated in front of the crowd!

"I hope you're ready for this," Rahool warned him.

Cayde turned to look at the auditorium.

"Ready as I'll ever be." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Come on," Rahool said. "I'll lead you backstage." He turned to Jorin. "I'm afraid we'll have to continue our discussion later. Excellent work today, lad. The Cryptarchy will be in touch."

Jorin's ears started to turn pink.

"Thank you, sir!" He grinned, shuffling from foot to foot.

Cayde stepped up to Jorin.

"Candidate for the Cryptarchy, eh? What's your name, son?"

Jorin had to swallow a few times before he could speak.

"J-Jorin, sir!"

"Jorin, huh? And what's your specialty? Lemme guess: architecture? Mathematics?"

"Actually, it's weapons engineering, sir."

Cayde's eyes lit up.

"Is that so? Know a thing or two about the Foundries, do you?"

Jorin continued to shuffle from foot to foot. He looked at once terrified and elated to be addressing a Guardian.

"Um, well, it's really Golden Age weaponry I'm studying. But, uh, I try to keep up with the latest research." He gestured at Cayde's hip where his sidearm was strapped. "That's an Omolon, right? Looks kind of like their Persephone model, but..."

Cayde glanced at his sidearm in surprise. He unholstered the weapon and presented it in his palm.

"It's an Omolon. I've never heard of the Persephone, though."

"Oh, that's because it's highly experimental. Um, they've never actually mass produced them. This is…uh…" Jorin leaned in to get a better look. Cayde let the boy examine the weapon. Rahool tried not to sigh with impatience. They really ought to be preparing backstage!

Jorin nodded.

"Uh huh. Okay. This is the Asphodel. It's based closely on the Persephone's specs. It's really almost the exact same weapon. It's just lacking the telemetry capabilities and bullet regen of the Persephone, which couldn't really be replicated reliably in high quantity."

"I'm impressed!" Cayde chuckled. "This is an Asphodel, sure enough. Got it from Banshee just a couple months ago. He said it was top-of-the-line Omolon."

"It is!" Jorin nodded emphatically. "It really is. I think it's their best sidearm yet. Virtually no recoil, customizable Ghost interface, and a stronger heat-resistant casing made especially for Warlocks."

As he talked with Cayde, the boy began to stand up a little straighter. His mumbling was dropping away too, Rahool noted. The nervous energy remained, yet he was really in his element now.

Cayde holstered the sidearm.

"Get this kid into the Tower, Cryptarch! We could use a few more minds like his!"

Jorin's whole freckled face turned red.

"Yes. Well. It's time we were going, Cayde," Rahool prompted.

"I'm going to go get a seat," Jorin said, grinning from ear to ear. "Goodbye, sir! Goodbye, Master Rahool!" He waved farewell to the both of them and scurried away behind the doors.

"Tell me he passed the exam," Cayde said.

"We'll see," Rahool answered. "Now let's go!"