Chapter Five: The Abandoned Apostle

He hugged the ladder rungs tight and looked up, the chill in the air tinting the edges of his visor with a thin layer of frost. It was the final stretch. He could do it. He'd done it before.

He reached up and continued on, hand over hand, foot over foot, climbing steadily up the side of the Tower. It had been too long. At last he could see the open door leading into the pitch blackness of the Tower hangar's underbelly. His spirits renewed, he sped up and nearly jumped up the last few rungs and threw himself into the surprisingly humid metal crawlspace.

The hatch door creaked lazily at the slight change in wind direction coming from behind him. A leaky pipe squealed and sputtered hot mist underfoot. He looked around and found what he was looking for on the right side of the room. He stepped over and pressed his hand to the thin and tall metal door, grasping the knob with his other hand. "Ephphatha." He whispered and tried to turn the knob and press the door open with his shoulder, but it didn't budge. He sighed and took a step back before rushing and raising his boot to kick the door open hard, sending it screaming on rusted out hinges as it slammed outward and into the hall, its upper hinge completely ripping off and the bottom one hanging on pathetically as he stepped over it and into the service network tunnel of the Tower. "Be opened."

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder. From the open door he could see the thin threads of gold woven through the black-blue night. Dawn was coming soon.

He snaked his way through the service tunnels, barely enough to squeeze through at times and made of thick concrete, on the lookout for the path that would take him up to the main plaza. At last he found it and stepped through a thinner door left unlocked. The stairs were winding and went on for a dozen flights before they emptied into a wide hallway painted a dull green. He read the sign painted on the wall directly in front of him as he closed the door he had emerged from: "Tower plaza, left." He looked, and sure enough the large hallway spilled out into the open-air Tower plaza, with its immaculate architecture rising high above its denizens, pristine floors marred with puddles left after years of heavy condensation and precipitation. He stepped forward and took a moment to see the Tower in all its glory without a soul to disturb its almost alarmingly tranquil silence.

He turned and ran his hand along the cold steel railing that led the way toward the bounty board and, further on, to the stairs that led to the Vanguards' office in their enclave. He looked to the sky and saw the hint of golden sunlight peeking out from behind the mountain range. He did not have much time left.

Judas-33 stepped down into the Hall of the Vanguard, abandoned at this hour and sure to be bustling again soon. The red, chipped paint lining the hall down past Lord Shaxx's modest, well organized space was as he remembered. So much of it was as he remembered.

Wait. He stopped at the bottom of the second set of stairs, looking over to the space between the short flights, normally empty save for a few boxes. Now, however, it was occupied by a scattering of boxes, a canopic jar that glowed with the sickly green magic of the Hive, and, even more curiously, a huddled woman underneath at least four layers of moth-eaten, bug-infested blankets. She tossed and turned in her sleep, muttering. "His...the king, like… fingertips on my… mind…" Her words trailed off ominously.

He looked down to her for a moment in pity and remorse. He didn't know her. And deep in his mind, past the implications of such a revelation, he realized he did not care. He turned and strode down the hall to the office, blocked off by the thick barn doors that closed it off from the rest of Tower when it was necessary.

He wrenched the doors open, a curiously easy thing to do, and he saw that they were barely held together by a security strap around the complex, and broken, locking mechanism.

The Vanguard office was as he remembered it, though subtly different. The war map Zavala spent so long pondering was new and different, appearing to show an attempt at tracking Hive movements across the steppes instead of his eternal Fallen enemies. Ikora's books were splayed out across her end of the huge table, but instead of molecular theory and philosophies long proven inaccurate, she had dredged up long forgotten tomes of legends, superstitions, and a few on advanced automated defenses and a guide for reverse-engineering Eliksni technology. Cayde-6 was still adjusting to his new position when he had last been here, but now it seems he has grown into it-trinkets and tools lay scattered across a huge swath of the table atop an old paper map.

"So many memories." Judas mused softly to himself as he stepped down, looking over the various plans that the Vanguard were no doubt making in an effort, however vain, to counter his eventual assault on their Tower and the Last City. "Surveillance silence, one hour, override command three-two." It never hurt to be cautious, he thought, as the robotic tenor of the security system assented to his orders.

He looked first to Ikora's station. "Hmm. Automated defense turrets. How quaint." He circled around to Zavala's station. "Tracking Hive mobilizations to find me? Like shooting into the sky to hit a star." He almost laughed, then inspected the holographic display in the center of the table that displayed a timelapsed sequence detailing the fortification of the Tower's outer walls.

Judas nodded in appreciation. "That could work." He looked down and tapped a few of the buttons on the command console, shifting the values of the design plans by seemingly random numbers, offset from their originals only ever so slightly-only enough to not be noticed and still hamper the Engineer Corps' progress. "Rejoice."

He continued on to Cayde's station, curiously devoid of any and all plans against him. He picked up a hand compass from on top of an old paper map and inspected it, as if it would hold the missing piece of the Vanguard's schemes. It revealed no such secrets to him. He scanned the others and his optics paused on a pyramid made of darkly gleaming metal set atop a pile of papers.

"God on high," he whispered as he reached out to it and picked it up, feeling its hefty weight in his hand. "He just keeps this thing laying out in the open?" He slipped it into an inner pocket of his tattered black robe. It was too dangerous to leave in sinners' hands.

A noise, soft at first but growing in volume, turned his attention back down the hall. Boots brushing the ground, pebbles being sent raining down the stairs, voices like uneven birdsong in morning smalltalk chatter. Judas quickly walked up and out of the office, closing the doors behind him and tying them together with the security strap in a loose configuration that he supposed was similar to the state he had found it in. Just as he was about to turn and leave, however, the group came around the corner and approached.

There were three of them, all male guardians. The one in the center, a human in green armor and a short black scarf, was clearly a hunter. He was flanked by another human in deep violet armor and a black flag at his hip-obviously a titan-and an Awoken in a long ice-white coat with a fiery armband-a warlock, Judas noted. The three of them were wrapped up in a conversation led, albeit seemingly reluctantly, by the Awoken man.

"I've already divulged all the information you need to know." The Awoken spoke with haughty intelligence verging on narcissism. Judas wondered if he had earned such disdain for his friends-for who else would he be awake with in full armor at this hour?-or if it were simply in his nature to look down upon those he thought of as lesser.

"Come on Koru," the hunter's words were already grating, the very definition of verbal prodding. "You didn't even get to the good parts yet! So we know about the blowjob and the upside down thing,"

"That one's my favorite." The titan spoke up, and was almost as quickly disregarded in the conversation. Did they not want to acknowledge his contribution, or was his side even considered a contribution at all?

The hunter continued. The warlock's cheeks grew increasingly flushed. "Koru, did she let you do butt stuff?"

The warlock sighed. "That's not-"

"Hey look guys, a people." The titan interrupted his teammates' argument to point to Judas, clad in all black, standing still between them and Lord Shaxx's station.

"Holy shit." The hunter nearly recoiled and took a step back. "You scared the shit outta me."

"What are you doing here?" the warlock asked him.

Judas looked him over a little closer. His voice was familiar, and all at once his mind raced a million times over through his memory banks, and he knew all too clearly where he recognized him from. He was one of the warlocks that had found him underground. Judas replied through a conscious filtration of his own vocal systems, masking his identity to them. "I have a report to give the vanguard." His usually gravelly and coarse voice was replaced with one youthful but deep and still hopeful.

"Like, an important report? Or a regular report?" The titan leaned forward, stroking his thick black beard thoughtfully.

"Regular report?" Judas answered, more eager to end this ridiculous charade than actually play along.

"Oh, okay then." The titan turned to his teammates and whispered obnoxiously loudly, "Don't talk to him, he's just the help."

The hunter ignored him. He stepped over to Judas and motioned to him up and down as if to prove a point. Judas felt the warmth of the sun emanate from this hunter, as radiant as daylight itself. Curious. "Hey, you're a warlock right? So I hear they have this sex book, right, like with all the different positions and shit. You know what that is?"

"Kamasutra." Judas replied coldly. The warmth of the sun seemed to reach out from the hunter and envelope him. He looked to the other guardians, but they were simply staring back at him. How could they not feel the raw power?

"Right! Okay, so like, do warlocks like to get freaky with that exotic stuff? Someone won't tell us." The hunter looked over to the warlock in white with an accusing, but somewhat playful, tone.

"Ask him if he banged Eve." The titan offered.

"Why do I have to? You do it, he's right here." The hunter retorted.

"Hey, did you bang a chick named Eve? Warlock, about this tall," The titan held a hand out indicating the woman's height, "Wears red. Bangs." The titan paused as if struggling to find more descriptive traits, "About 34C cup size?"

"Come on Roy," the hunter reprimanded the big man, "Just because a bunch of guys have slept with her doesn't mean this guy has."

"But it's a pretty good chance, let's be real." The titan, Roy, said with a smile.

"Shots fired." The hunter shrugged.

Judas's mind flashed a million images at once before his eyes. Yes, he knew her. Not well.

"No." Judas answered simply after a time.

Those days were long ago, but there was a time when he would have said so much more. If only he had done something, or perhaps simply kept his head down. But where was salvation in waiting?

"Guys, I'm right here." Koru held his temples with the tips of his fingers and rubbed them methodically in circles. "It is far too early in the morning to discuss, you know, her past."

"Oooh," The hunter sidled in closer to Koru, "Have you guys not talked about that yet?"

"What's there to talk about?"

"Well has she ever banged a chick?"

"What? No. I don't know." Koru sighed in exasperation. Judas knew the feeling.

"Well, Lilei seems really into her. And you know, she is kinda cute. For an Awoken girl." The hunter chuckled, and the titan joined in. The warlock, Koru, did not.

"That's surprisingly racist." Koru glared at the hunter.

"Oh I didn't mean it." The hunter waved the comment off.

At last the moment got the better of Judas. He had been robbed of this for what felt like a lifetime twofold. Gossip, however petty, was a social connection to one's peers and superiors' lives. Immoral, repugnant, clandestine, but savory and prolifically partaken in regardless. He broke into their conversation. "Eve? As in, Eve Delaine?"

"Uhh, yeah." The hunter nodded and brushed his brown hair from in front of his eyes. "She's Koru's girlfriend." He pointed to the Awoken warlock.

Judas looked Koru up and down. The warm embrace of the hunter's light had seeped into his mind and seemed to set his soul ablaze. It had been more than a year since he had seen Eve, and even then he had never been particularly close to her, but he could not help but think that this blue-skinned man was far from good enough for her. He bit his tongue. "Oh, I used to know her."

"Used to?" The hunter asked.

"Promotion." Judas offered without any further explanation. What was happening?

The hunter squinted at him and nodded as if accepting that.

"If I tell you what happened," Koru finally relented, "Will you drop it?"

"Yes!" Phoenix smiled wide and turned his full attention to Koru now, completely ignoring Judas.

"Okay." Koru lowered his head and spoke low, just above a whisper, now. "We went back to her place. It was different this time, though. Normally she likes to throw me on the bed and be in control, tie me down-"

"Wait, whoa, hold on. You got tied up?" The hunter asked.

"Yes."

"Did she like, whip you and stuff?"

"Sometimes."

"Did you like it?"

"Am I going to tell the rest of the story or are you going to dissect my sexual preferences?" Koru frowned. This, or some approximation of this exchange, had happened before. It may even be a regular occurrence.

"Okay fine, tell the rest." The hunter crossed his arms, but leaned in, clearly intrigued.

"Anyway," Koru continued, "This time she just, sort of… sat down on the edge of the bed. She told me I was in charge, and then she just started taking her clothes off. And we tried some new things, mostly role-reversal stuff. Handcuffs, a little roughness, uhh…" He trailed off and his face grew more flushed, making him appear almost a light shade of violet.

"How rough are we talking here?" Roy spoke up. "'Cause she tried some of that shit on me, I wasn't having it. Nothing going up my butt."

The hunter picked up on that immediately. "Koru, did you take it up the butt from her? And did she let you do butt stuff? You never answered that."

"Yes." Koru answered simply, hanging his head, though not in shame, Judas realized as he saw the smile on the man's face.

"To which one?"

"Well, I think that's all I'm comfortable telling." Koru brought his head back up and brought his hands together in front of him. "Why don't we discuss your night now?"

The hunter rubbed the back of his neck and laughed almost nervously. "Oh, nothing much, you know."

"He tried hitting on Lilei." Roy explained in clear terms.

Koru shook his head. "You know she's a lesbian, right?"

"Well I do now. Would have saved time and money if I had some warning."

Koru shrugged and straightened his coat's high collar-Judas could see the edge of telltale bruising just beneath it.

What the hell was happening? He did not want to be here. He did not need to be here. Most of all, he could not be here. If he were found now, cavorting with these idiots in the Vanguard Hall before his plan had even come together… Judas at last could bear it no longer. His curiosity need be sated, and damn the consequences.

Judas stepped forward between the three guardians and edged in close to the hunter, nearly face to face now, and looked him in the eye. The other man could not return the gesture through the deep opaque visor, and nor could he want to. The hunter leaned back away from the strange warlock's sudden approach. His teammates stopped their jovial laughter at his expense to watch this new scene unfold.

"You." Judas whispered, almost bringing his hand up to caress the hunter's light, burning so feverishly hot in a blinding aura all around him. Judas's own energy spilled out, cold as nothingness, and the two mingled in the space between their bodies as the perpetual meeting place of day and night, of shadow and light, of cold and hot. "What is your name?" It was a simple question. None of the other guardians could see this mingling of light, he was sure. Only him.

"Uhh, Phoenix." The hunter managed, clearly uncomfortable. "And you are?"

"From the ashes…" Judas paused, stark still for only a breath. "Simon."

"Well Simon, you mind backing off?" Phoenix lost his smile and brought his hands up between himself and Judas.

Judas maintained eye contact for a moment longer, watching the hunter squirm, but not out of pure discomfort. He knew the shimmies that Cayde-6 taught all his pupils, the short and quick movements hidden behind a veneer of mundane purpose to get oneself in a position more advantageous in a fight. He relented and took a step back away from Phoenix, an act that clearly eased some tension among the guardians.

From over Phoenix's shoulder Judas saw the titan and warlock Vanguard, Commander Zavala and Ikora Rey respectively, as well as Lord Shaxx and his battle frame Arcite-99 descend down the stairs and enter the Vanguard Hall. Judas took a breath to steady his racing mind. They would not recognize him, and if they did, he could leave before they were wiser. He would not have completed his mission here, but he would have escaped with his life. That seemed a fair trade.

But the moment never came. Shaxx took up his spot and began his day as the Crucible handler, Arcite-99 took its spot across the hall from him, diligently scanning the results of recent matches. Commander Zavala strode past the group of guardians loitering in the hall without a word. Ikora Rey, however, did at last break the silence that came with the start of the work day.

"Warlocks." She nodded to Koru and to Judas in turn. "I'll be making an announcement shortly, but please remember that we are gathering in the Black Chamber this morning. Carry on." She walked into the office and got to work herself.

"Thank you, ma'am." Koru nodded in deference before slapping his forehead with his palm. "Damn it all, I forgot about the meeting."

"Black Chamber?" Phoenix asked. "That sounds cool. Can we come?"

"Huh? No, no. It's for warlocks only." Koru nearly stammered out as he turned, obviously meaning to leave the group.

Now was his chance. If he didn't take it, he would be stuck here, pondering the mysteries of this hunter all day. There were others, after all, that needed his attention first.

"Well, it's been great." Judas said as he slipped around Roy and toward the stairs leading back to the plaza. He gave a silent nod to Shaxx on the way out, which the Crucible handler almost returned. "But I gotta get going. Black Chamber, all that." He had no idea what the Black Chamber was, but it was a good enough excuse. They watched him go, only Phoenix bothering to wave a reluctant goodbye

He could hear them behind him, still arguing. It was as if that's all they were truly skilled at.

"So what if I got one of those dress thingies you guys wear? Would they let me in then?" Roy asked Koru.

"No. It's not for hunters and titans, it's warlocks only. Now I'm going, don't follow me. I'll know if you are." Koru reprimanded him.

"But what can you do about it?" Phoenix asked coyly.

"Don't you have a video to get?" Koru inquired desperately.

"Oh yeah! Shaxx, do you have a copy of our fights for the cult lady on Mercury?"

"What if I pretended to use big words, too?" Roy asked.

"You're not getting in, Roy."

"Constabulary!" Roy yelled in objection.

"Okay, I'm done here. See you later." Koru threw his hands up in resignation and walked out and up the stairs.

II

While his teammates briefly bickered over the nature of the Black Chamber meeting, Phoenix watched Simon leaving from the corner of his eye. With each step the mysterious warlock took away from him, Phoenix felt a queer warmth return to him.

"Here you are." Lord Shaxx interrupted his thoughts. "Every fight worth remembering is recorded for you." He thrust a small plastic computer drive into the hunter's hands.

"Huh?" Phoenix said with a start, broken from his near trance-like state. What was up with that guy? "Oh, thanks Shaxx. You the man."

Lord Shaxx gave him a long, cold stare. "I know."

Phoenix returned to his teammates just in time to see Koru throw his hands up in frustration and walk away in a huff.

"Hey Phoenix, wanna sneak into the Black Chamber thingy with me?" Roy asked jovially, a grin on his face. He already had a plan, Phoenix knew.

Phoenix felt his heart return to its normal resting pace, felt his breaths getting deeper. Simon had an interesting, unnerving quality about him. He was cold. But it was physical, real, tangible. A shiver went down his spine as he contemplated the most recent few moments of his life in near silence.

"Phoenix?" Roy waved his hand in front of the hunter's eyes briefly. "Anyone home?"

"Roy," Phoenix started, "What was up with that Simon guy?"

"Are you still on about that?" Roy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "What do we say about talking to the help?"

Phoenix sighed. "We don't talk to the help." He repeated the mantra that had been drilled into his head since forming Fireteam Pluto with Roy. "But," Phoenix relented, "I don't think he was just some guy. I think he was someone important."

"The help is never important." Roy countered, but motioned with his hands for Phoenix to continue.

"Okay, but like he was here dropping somethin' off he said, but I didn't see him carrying anything."

"Maybe he already delivered it?"

"And why's he wearing all black? Like, head to toe. And that helmet, just black glass on black metal. And he was here before dawn. Not even the Vanguard, who he apparently gives his reports to, are here that early." Phoenix began pacing around Roy as he spoke, pointing up to the ceiling with each new piece of evidence he recited. "And then when he came in real close, asked me who I was. And he said that thing the Vanguard always say about me." He brought up his hands and made an exaggerated motion with them to convey his general disdain for the next words out of his mouth, "'From the ashes…' Ooh, so mysterious."

Roy shrugged. "Could be he's part of a special operations unit."

"Where's his fireteam?" Phoenix asked.

"I mean, we don't exactly go about all our business together." Roy suggested.

"No, no. Something's up with this guy and I need to find out, preferably before the trail goes cold." Phoenix shook his head and started back down the hallway they had come from.

Roy cursed to himself under his breath. "Bitches…" Then he called out, "All right, fine. Go waste your time chasing down your new boyfriend, meanwhile I'm gonna get us into that Black Chamber thingy." He waved Phoenix off as if the hunter wasn't already halfway up the stairs. Then he turned to Lord Shaxx, who was busy observing a Crucible match on his computer screen, "So, you know where I can find an extra-extra long warlock dress?" He grinned wide and leaned against the Crucible handler's desk.

Lord Shaxx glanced up to Commander Roy and offered nothing more than a stoic reply, as ever. "No."

/-/-/

"That guy's weird." Phoenix muttered under his breath as he wove through the meandering crowd of visitors, employees and passersby of the Tower's wide corridors. Hardly any guardians bothered delving into the inner workings of the Tower, he knew, but nonetheless he drew surprisingly little attention to himself.

Skye, his ghost, replied to him directly in his head. He would never quite get used to the odd tickling sensations it gave his brain. "He was a little off-putting."

"What did he say his name was?" He asked, keeping his eyes up. Ahead, beyond the crush of people moving up and down the hall, was the mysterious man in black. Phoenix had been following and keeping an eye on him since their brief encounter outside the Vanguard office.

"Simon." Skye responded.

"Wow, a name dumber than Clarence." Phoenix chuckled and saw Simon turn a right-hand corner ahead of him. "Wait a minute. I know where he's going!" He nearly yelled out excitedly and darted forward, weaving in and out of the milling throng. He shoved past a young man whose eyes were glued to the tablet in his hand, sending him crashing to the ground. But the hunter barely managed to shout out "Sorry!" Before he was rounding the corner that Simon had taken.

He emerged into a much emptier hallway with pristine white stone stairs leading up to a pair of ornate wooden doors flanked by inlaid Romanesque pillars. The two doors at the apex of the stairway were plastered with black and yellow caution tape that, in some places, was falling to the floor. Phoenix slowed to a stop and looked up to see Simon ascending slowly toward the doors.

"The Speaker's office." Phoenix nodded and frowned. Thinking quickly he stepped back the way he had come and ducked behind the concrete wall, peering out from behind the corner to watch.

Simon paused and glanced behind him over his shoulder. Satisfied he was not being followed, he turned his attention back to the office. He reached out and ripped the caution tape from the door with unceremonious swiftness.

"Skye, run a background check on this guy." Phoenix whispered as he watched Simon slip into the darkened office of the Speaker.

"What do you think I am, a psychic?"

"Kinda. I mean, you can read my thoughts, right?"

"Well that's because I'm a part of you. We are one, Phoenix."

"Don't make it weird." Phoenix slipped out from behind the corner and started up the stairs. "So what can you do, you know, to be useful here?"

Skye let out an oddly mechanical sigh. "If I can get close enough, I should be able to communicate with his ghost without either of you even noticing."

"How close?"

"It might work if you hug him again."

"Ha ha." Phoenix said dryly, clearly not amused. "Look, real fast just run a check on every guardian named Simon."

A short pause. Then, "That's weird. There's no one named Simon in the Tower registry. Like, at all. Wait…" Skye's voice trailed off briefly, and she seemed to make soft humming noises in her thoughts. His thoughts. It didn't make sense to him all the time. "Okay there's one guy named Simón, but he's currently on assignment in Antigua. And there's a woman named Simone. But no warlocks named Simon."

Phoenix was almost at the top of the stairs now. "Well gang, I think we have a mystery on our hands." He let out a single, all-too-pleased-with-himself laugh. "Ha, name that movie."

"I don't think that was from a movie…" Skye started to object, but Phoenix interrupted her.

"Shh, shh." He whispered as he approached the door on his tiptoes, careful to remain as silent as possible. "Don't talk, he might hear you."

"You're the only one actually talking." Skye replied snidely directly into his thoughts.

"What did I just say?"

"Ugh." And with that she was silent once more.

Phoenix quietly gripped the handle of the door on the right and turned it ever so softly and pulled it open just a crack to peer inside the huge room. The candles along the walls had long burned out, the hundreds of books crammed into their shelves had accumulated a thick layer of dust, but the golden pillars that remained standing and held up the great domed ceiling still glinted dully in their glory. The banners that hung from them, red and mysterious, were hanging limply from their places high upon the pillars. One of the gilded pillars lay crumpled in a pile of stone and metal on the ground where the Speaker had punched through it.

Simon stood still with his back to the door, just in front of the large round table that housed several golden instruments of astronomy. The gyrospheric astrolabe had been promptly replaced on the table after it had been knocked aside during the scuffle, but a sizable dent in one of its arms prevented it from spinning properly, leaving it to creak and rock back and forth in perpetual mechanical agony.

The room itself had no windows, but auxiliary lights lining the edges of the floor and domed ceiling offered some ambient glow to the room as if it were in constant moonlit night.

"I don't get it." Simon whispered.

"I could tell you…" A voice echoed through the chamber, coming from the opposite end of the table.

"What is this?" Simon asked no one.

"I could tell you…" The voice repeated.

"What's going on?" He took a step forward. Then another.

A faint click sounded off and the voice from beyond the table repeated its mantra. "I could tell you…"

"Tell me!" Simon yelled.

"I could tell you…"

Simon strode forward and circled around the table to the source of the voice, to the plush leather chair on the other end. He approached the back of it and stared down for a long moment at the form sitting in it.

"I could tell you…"

Simon reached out and spun the chair around to face him. Sitting slumped in it was a form that vaguely resembled a human being, dressed up in the Speaker's old white robes-complete with the burns and punctures that marked his end. A black hood was stretched over the top of it and a poor drawing of the Speaker's mask, with its thin slits for eyes, was taped to the front. The arms of the Speaker's robe were propped up on the arms of the chair with thin wooden sticks glued to paper drawings of an approximation of the Speaker's attire, one of which was clearly broken and dangling down to the floor. Upon closer inspection the form was simply a few feather-down pillows stuffed into the robes. In its lap lay a gray tape recorder apparently stuck on repeat. It clicked again. "I could tell you…"

Simon stood staring at the stuffed Speaker in the chair for a long, ponderous moment.

"I could tell you…"

Phoenix watched as Simon simply stared down at the fake Speaker. A chill rushed down his spine and reached its icy fingers into his heart. He tried to shake it off, but found it to no avail.

At last Simon spoke to the empty room. "I don't understand." He sighed and looked over to the door that Phoenix held ajar. "I know you're there, Phoenix. Come to the light." With a wave of his hand the auxiliary lights flickered to life and flared brightly, illuminating the entire room in white light.

Phoenix's breath caught in his throat and he squinted at the sudden intrusion of such bright light on the dark room. With a sigh of resignation he threw open the door and stepped inside. He smiled at Simon nervously.

"I could tell you…" The recording repeated.

Simon reached down and pressed the off switch on the recorder before speaking again. "Be quiet." He whispered to the device with what almost sounded like care. He looked to Phoenix again. "Explain." It was not a suggestion.

Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck and took a few steps closer, hoping Skye wasn't too mad at him to be paying attention. "Well, it's kind of a long story…" His easy smile faltered at the corners of his mouth.

"Explain." Simon repeated more sternly.

Phoenix sighed. "See, I woke up in the forest a while ago with this weird robot eye lady yelling at me. Nothing much has changed, by the way," He chuckled and waited for the warlock to respond with no such luck. He continued after muttering, "Tough crowd… Okay so anyway, I was fighting this thing in the woods and it had this cool laser gun, but it was going on a timer. So I figured it out, ran, and then I started wrestling it and-"

Simon raised up a hand. "Hush, please." His voice was strained and he was clearly agitated. "To this part." He pointed angrily at the fake Speaker made of pillows in the chair. "What is this about?"

"Oh, yeah that. So after I started a forest fire the Vanguard picked me up and brought me here. Then the Speaker got all creepy and attacked me."

"He attacked you?" Simon's interest was now piqued. "Why?"

"He took off his mask and yo, no foolin', there was nothing there. Just black."

An awkward pause came over them. "That's racist?" Simon offered.

"No no, like actually black. Like darkness. And he said he was one with the Darkness. I don't know what that really means, but he went crazy and my ghost started screaming, like, really loud." Phoenix stepped forward and stopped on the other side of the large round table across from Simon. "He was really strong, actually. But I killed him."

Simon's jaw clenched as he processed what Phoenix was telling him. "You… killed him. You killed a servant of the Darkness that had slipped under our noses since he showed up." It was not a question, it was a statement.

"Yeah. Cayde said he never liked the guy anyway so it was all cool." Phoenix smiled.

Simon nodded. "And... this?" He grabbed the pillow-Speaker by where his throat would be. He gave it a single rough throttle before tossing it back in the chair again.

"Oh right. Well Cayde pretended to be the Speaker for a while. Then he got bored and made up a plan to fake the old Speaker's voice in here so the other guardians don't get suspicious. But then he decided to make it look like the old Speaker left and made him the new Speaker. Forged a will and everything. Then he locked this place up forever." He leaned forward and poked at the broken astrolabe on the table. As if suddenly remembering, he straightened up and looked to Simon pleadingly. "Shit, uhh, please don't tell anyone about that stuff."

Simon stood still and stared Phoenix down. Cold nothingness spilled from him in invisible waves as he contemplated all that he had just been made privy to.

"Phoenix!" Skye nearly yelled at him in his head, sending the sound of a ringing alarm with her already shrill voice. "Phoenix, this is bad! His ghost, I saw it. It's… fading."

Simon looked from the hunter across the table to the fake Speaker in the chair, to the broken golden pillar behind him, to the secret door that was still open and led to the nearly empty storage room, to the fiery scorch marks along the walls. "Irremediable."

"What does that mean?" Phoenix asked quietly to Skye.

"I… I don't know, Phoenix. It's not dying. It's slowly not existing anymore. I couldn't even talk to it, it was so weak."

"Impossible. Insane." Simon continued on without seeming to hear Phoenix. "Damnable. Unforgivable."

"So what do we do?" Phoenix inquired, watching Simon warily.

"You need to get out of here, Phoenix. Now." Skye warned him.

Simon looked up to Phoenix. Even with his face hidden behind his helmet Phoenix could sense the danger emanating from the warlock like an arctic wind.

Simon took a step toward him and before Phoenix could react the warlock was in front of him in an instant. He spoke to the hunter softly as the lights flicked off. Now his tone was one of sadness, regret, and pain, all masked by unquenchable fury. "You do not know the manner of spirit you are of."

"Uhh…" Phoenix tried to take a step back.

Simon's right hand shot out and grabbed the hunter by the face, squeezing firmly to keep a hold on him.

"Wha-Fuck!" Phoenix yelled and tried to bat at the warlock's arm. He reached for one of his swords.

"PHOENIX!" Skye screamed.

Now Simon spoke in a low whisper. His words drilled into Phoenix's ears, drowning out even Skye's screams. "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now."

Phoenix felt a chilling wave of pure nothingness wash through him from his head down to his feet. His eyes drooped and he struggled to keep them open. He struggled to remain standing. He struggled to stay conscious.

"PHOENIX WAKE UP! HE'S GOING TO-"

But Skye never finished her thought. Or if she did, he could not hear it. His knees buckled and he fell, crumpling to the ground of the Speaker's office weakly as his vision went black and the ringing in his ears resounded with a deafening drone. His body was completely numb, cold. His thoughts were going a mile a minute and yet he could not manage a single coherent one. He thought he could sense Simon stepping over him, but his entire sensory system was shut down before he could be certain. At last he closed his eyes and he clung onto the breath in his lungs as long as he could until he could bear it no longer. He exhaled and could not gain another breath. His heart was pounding but numb, then still.

Phoenix let the nothingness of pure sensory deprivation take him. There was no other option.

III

Judas-33 stepped out of his portal into the brisk early morning of the lower City. The familiar lair of the Black Dragon lay before him. He stepped again into the cloying, grasping shadows of the house and made his way up the stairs without hesitation. He burst into her meditation room. She had not moved from her seat upon the ceiling.

She greeted him amicably, the robotic locusts lining the walls pulsing in perfect harmonic rhythm with her voice, lilting and cool. "Have you uncovered the answers you seek?"

"Yes." Judas nodded. "Yet it gives me no comfort."

"What does it provide?"

"Righteous fury." He replied. "They have already expelled the false prophet of the Speaker."

"Oh?" The Black Dragon feigned surprise.

"Yet the darkness in their hearts remains." Judas clenched his hands into fists. "They prop up an imbecile who committed crimes more grave than my own as a hero, and snatch power when they see it as advantageous. I cannot let such misdeeds go unpunished." He looked to her, gazing into her eyes. "Tell me everything that has happened since I have been gone."

She smirked and wordlessly beckoned him to sit beneath her.

He did as he was bade and sat cross-legged on the scaled metal floor. The locusts undulated beneath him and raised him up a few inches. The Black Dragon reached down and pulled his helmet off and handed it to him to set in his lap. His chipped blood-red finish showed scratches and streaks of underlying silver in the thin shreds of sunlight that streamed in from the window and between the locust swarm. The right side of his face showed heavy scarring around where his replacement eye was.

She caressed his face tenderly. "All that you require will be revealed." She whispered.

He closed his pale yellow optic and sighed as if in relief, knowing full well it could do nothing for him. The bright red Vex implant continued to glow, to scan, to analyze. He cursed the devils who had cast him out as he felt the gentle fingertips of the Black Dragon against his temples.

The two of them straightened their spines simultaneously and she pressed the crown of her head against his own. "Ease your mind, child."

This time it was easier to follow her orders. His roiling thoughts stilled. Even his Vex eye slowed to a startlingly human pace in its data processes. He felt a strange calmness wash over him and expel the hot rage that burned throughout his body, mind and soul. This, he knew, was the first step on his path of redemption, and the Vanguard's final breath of peace. He would cast them out and lead the righteous flock as was his destined duty.