Chapter Six: Murder Begins in the Heart

"Are you nearly finished in there?" A snide feminine voice called over the radio.

The warm summer winds of east Africa caressed her almost gently, wrapping her blood red scarf tighter around her neck and shoulders. She watched from her perch on a third floor balcony atop a craggy hill, her eyes locked on their towering target high above. There was not a cloud in the sky to obstruct the view.

His response was swift, and just as condescending. "Well, if you'd prefer, I could leave the rest up to you."

She shook her head, looking through her helmet's visor to the landscape below. Winding, dirty streets long abandoned snaked their way through a city of dirty gray and brown, the crumbling rubble of an age long gone its only ornament. Trees and other foliage sprouted up out of the concrete and steel, resilient reminders of nature's impartiality in the affairs of men. The wind picked up. She looked to the massive skyscraper that loomed above the nearby broken cityscape. Its glass face was pockmarked and broken by centuries of elemental abuse and the odd vandal poking its rifle through the gaps. It swept up high above where the clouds would be, dark and foreboding.

"And to answer your question," the man spoke again. "Yes. I can see you from here, by the way. You should have picked a better vantage point."

She frowned and picked up her sniper rifle, setting its bipod down on the rusty rail in front of her and gazing through its scope. She scanned the entire building from the bottom up and only saw her teammate when she reached the roof. He gave her a wave, a huge windmill-like gesture to make sure she saw him. "Hardly a fair judgement of my choice. The Fallen haven't spotted me yet."

"They didn't spot me, either, and I was breaking their necks in there. You're getting sloppy, Simone." He teased her in a coy sing-song tone before going silent.

Simone watched through her rifle scope as her teammate backed away from the roof of the skyscraper, then ran forward and leapt off, turning midair into a dive. She tried to keep her sights on him, but nearer roofs and roads just barely obscured her vision from his landing. She never did get to see how he managed to survive those leaps of his. Whenever she asked, he simply responded with 'faith.'

Ominously, his voice returned to her headset radio. "Ah, another storm brewing. I can hear it sing with the wind."

She looked to the sky all around. "There's no storm brewing, Thad." She let her rifle rest in the crook of her arm again.

Thaddeus sighed with obvious disappointment. "Prithee, no more. Thou dost talk nothing to me."

"Cut the chatter. Anyway, get up here so you can watch your handiwork." Simone clenched her jaw and looked up to the skyscraper. It wasn't the only one in the city, nor the tallest, but it was the most well-preserved and currently crawling with the gold-clad Fallen House of Kings.

Minutes of pleasant silence passed, the only intruding noise came from the songs of birds and bugs carried on the breeze.

The next time Thaddeus spoke, breaking the peace, it came from directly above her. "I boarded the Kings' ship." He dropped down off the apartment building's roof to land nimbly and silently on the creaky wooden balcony next to her. Clad in dark gray and black and a royal blue cloak cut with a wide hood to cover his helmet and worn in a half-cape fashion, he looked every bit the eccentric gentleman his voice gave him away to be. His breastplate's dozen or so red lights glowed dimly even in the sun. He gazed out wistfully to the skyscraper. "Now in the beak, now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flamed amazement." He laughed then, a rich chuckle rising from his belly. "Not a hair perished." He shook his head and looked over to her. "Well, that part isn't exactly applicable. But you get the idea."

Simone scowled at him and reached down to her belt to produce a dark green device that neatly fit in the palm of her hand. She flipped up the cover on one end and her thumb hovered over the worn red button for just an instant. "You ready?"

Thaddeus suddenly bolted upright and took a step backward, keeping his back to the wall. "Check your scanners. Someone's here."

Simone paused and did so, bringing up a holographic display of the surrounding area in her helmet's interior display. Sure enough, something was approaching their location quickly. She heard the roar of engines before she saw the ship. She closed the display and stepped out to get a better view. Thaddeus had already vaulted over the rail and was on the ground floor, sliding through the sparse shadows to watch as the newcomer approached them.

"Knock knock!" Came the call over the ship's speakers, just barely audible over the roar of the engines spouting gouts of flame from behind it. Thankfully, however, the engines were quieting as it descended from the sky. "Anyone home?"

Simone squinted and pulled her hood up tighter around her helmet, activating her visor's zoom and enhance feature to look over the ship's make and model. A few of the dozen or more red lights that made up her helm's optical lenses flared to life as she did so. She scanned the hull, marking its pale blue paint job with long scratches all along the fuselage. It was big enough for one, maybe a few passengers, and configured in a standard structure similar to a Golden Age era fighter jet. She glanced down to where Thaddeus had been, but he was gone from sight now. Good.

Next she took a look at the Fallen-infested skyscraper far ahead. Through the hazy and warped view of the heated air around the new ship that obscured her vision, she thought she could see the aliens scrambling. She was sure that they had noticed the arrival of a guardian's ship.

"Merda…" Simone cursed under her breath and clenched her jaw. They needed to get this out of the way quickly.

In a flash of cubic light particles emanating from the ship's underbelly, a guardian materialized in the middle of the street below. Simone took a step back and levelled her rifle at the man. He wore a tattered brown cloak, wore his pistol on his left hip, and his face was a distinct and pristine cobalt blue. Her crosshairs hovered on his head, and she made note of the long protruding horn on his forehead, for a few seconds before she felt comfortable calling out in response.

"What do you want?" She asked. He turned to face her almost immediately, staring directly into the glinting scope of her rifle. His eyes shone a brilliant cyan even in the midday sun.

Even in this circumstance the new man's voice was suspiciously chipper. "Well hey there, sunshine. Mind putting your gun away for me?" Nonetheless, he stayed still and stared her down.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Cayde-6. I'm the hunter vanguard, and I'm on official business on behalf of the Tower and your employer." He tried to muster a cocky smile, but it barely manifested on his features.

"And that is?" She needed to be sure.

He seemed to sigh, but complied. "The Black Dragon."

"Make it quick." She called out, not taking her gaze from him.

The air around Cayde-6 shimmered and before the hunter vanguard could respond back he found his throat being held at arm's length by Thaddeus, who gripped the side of his face with one strong hand and pointed a retractable blade protruding from the underside of his wrist at Cayde's throat. Thaddeus made sure to stand well away from where he knew Simone's crosshairs hovered.

"Pray you, tread softly." Thaddeus proclaimed, drawing a second knife and gripping it in his opposite hand.

Simone took the opportunity to look over to the skyscraper again. Sure enough, Fallen were rushing throughout the hollowed out building in droves. Mobilizing.

"Didn't you kids get the memo?" Cayde ignored Thaddeus's words. "Or did I get here too fast?"

"Porca miseria!" Simone groaned. "So that's what she meant by an outside agent."

Cayde seemed taken aback by that. "So, is that a yes, or do I still get to stand here with a knife at my throat?" He glanced over to Thaddeus now. "Or, whatever this is. Hidden blade? Nice."

"Can we trust him, Simone?" Thaddeus flipped the knife in his grasp to a backwards grip. He looked through the slit-like visor in his helmet for a long moment, studying Cayde's eyes. How did he still not manage to lose that damned cocky attitude?

"Yes. Bring him over here, out of the street. Christ. Oh, but first," She grabbed the green device again, flipped up the cover, and pressed the button with her gloved thumb, all in the space of a breath. "Get that out of the way."

As Thaddeus was retracting his blade, sheathing his knife, and turning to grab Cayde by the scruff of the neck and lead him away toward the abandoned apartment complex, he heard the rocking roar of explosive charges detonating. He perked up and tried to look at the skyscraper he had recently escaped from, but Cayde's ship blocked most of the view. "Damn it!"

Primed explosive charges were detonated from the top of the building down, on every floor, sending out jets of red and yellow flames, shards of glass and metal, and throwing dozens and dozens of Fallen footsoldiers through the air to plummet to their deaths if they weren't already dead from the force of the blast. Each detonation sent a shockwave that echoed across the landscape and stilled the nuanced birdsong to silence. Each floor that erupted in a cacophony of destruction it collapsed and buckled under the weight of itself, courtesy of Thaddeus's expert placement on supporting structures, and fell atop the floor below. Within a minute the entire tower had collapsed in on itself and fallen down in a cascading inferno, sending waves of smoke shooting out from what had once been windows and up into the sky in acrid plumes.

Thaddeus hurriedly and unceremoniously tossed Cayde into the alleyway and leapt up onto a nearby low-hanging roof to catch a glimpse of the fruits of his labor, only to be met with a crumbling, smoldering pile of debris in his vision. Even the screams of the dying were not enough to brighten his mood. "Damn it, Simone, I wanted to watch that!"

Simone shrugged and stared down at Cayde, looking up to her from the alley. "If it's any consolation, you did an excellent job setting my charges. It was very pretty."

Thaddeus grumbled under his breath and dropped back down into the alley casually. "Fine, but give me some warning on the next one."

"No promises." She laughed lightly and returned her attention to Cayde. "So, what do owe your interruption?"

Cayde regained his composure. Had he just seen what he thought he did? He shook his head and straightened his back. "I need you for an urgent job. Are you guys down?"

"Sabotage?" Simone suggested almost hopefully.

"Assassination?" Thaddeus added wistfully.

"Tracking." Cayde looked to both of them in turn.

Simone sighed and leaned against the balcony's rail. "How mundane."

"But necessary." Cayde admitted, "But if it's any consolation," He continued, "This is definitely the most dangerous and exciting quarry you'll ever hunt."

"Keep talking." Simone urged him.

"We need a name. Last known location. Known aliases, associates, and frequented locations." Thaddeus counted off on his fingers as he dryly recited the necessary information. "It's not our first rodeo."

Simone shrugged. "We've done more recon and tracking work than any hunter in the Tower, I'll guarantee you that much. This," She gestured to the destroyed skyscraper still hurling smoke into the air as its remains burned beneath the rubble, "This was a rare treat."

Cayde nodded in understanding. "Name, Judas-33. Last seen in the sewers of the old Russian steppe, but that shouldn't count for too much. He's been known to move around the entire solar system very quickly. No known aliases, no known associates beyond the Hive he is able to command. He might have ties to the Ishtar Sink on Venus, but again, don't take that too concretely."

Simone contemplated that for a moment. "A few more questions before we agree to anything."

"Shoot." Cayde offered.

"Why don't you get some of your hunters to handle this job for you?" She asked.

The vanguard shrugged. "I needed the best for this one. And you just admitted to also being the most experienced."

"Do you have any ideas as to where he might be, or are we flyin' blind?" Thaddeus spoke up, leaning with his back to a low brick wall on the other side of Cayde.

"A Vex power source. Likely either the Black Garden or the Vault of Glass." Cayde explained.

"Black Garden? Vault of Glass?" Simone scoffed. "Those are just myths."

"You'd be surprised how many myths turn out to be true, especially these days." Cayde said simply.

"Do you know how he gets around so quickly?" Thaddeus inquired.

"Teleportation." Cayde answered.

"Impossible." Simone scowled down at him.

"Look, I don't know how it works, okay, but he does it. I've seen it with my own eyes. Here one minute, gone the next, on the other side of the planet. Or farther."

"You saw it?" She pondered. Judas-33 was an exo name and designation. "We're tracking a guardian, aren't we?" This she knew to be true before she even received an answer. Nothing short of a guardian's ghost could understand exo construction enough to bring one back to life. On top of that, exos could not breed. They were artificial creations made during the Golden Age, centuries long past, revived from death to serve as guardians.

"A rogue guardian." Cayde corrected her. "And a dangerous one, too. He's got some crazy powers we never really understood even when he was with us."

"Like teleporting, talking to the Hive, and finding mythical, never-before-seen locations like El Dorado and Shangri-La." Thaddeus chortled and tossed his head back to rest against the wall, and he looked up to the clear blue sky.

"Look," Cayde said, "If you're gonna keep making a big deal about this, I could get you the coordinates. We also think he's risen to a high station within the Hive hierarchy already, some kind of prince or something. He's raising an army as we speak."

"I'll get in on that action." Thaddeus chuckled and looked Cayde up and down. "Get me a map and half the treasure is yours."

"Done." Cayde nodded once firmly.

"One more question." Simone interjected.

"Promise?" Cayde asked hopefully.

She ignored him. "Why do you need to find him?"

He thought for a long moment. Simone and Thaddeus awaited his answer with the calm predatory zeal of serpents.

"Well?"

"He's a threat to the Last City." He finally answered.

"To them, or to you?"

"To the Tower." Cayde tried, his cool facade giving way to his clearly growing frustration.

This time it was Simone who took a long moment to speak. The pause allowed the tension among the three of them to start to diffuse. At last she asked, "Do you ever wonder what drives a guardian to turn their back on you?" She did not give Cayde time to respond. "Something wicked, wouldn't you think? And perhaps, I think, it's you. The Tower stands for the Speaker and the enforcement of his decrees from the Traveler. But among your ranks there are guardians who disagree with his, and by extension the vanguards', doctrine. When rumors start to spread, people start to go missing." Simone stood straighter and looked down at Cayde with disdain. "And when a missing person's loved ones need to find them, who do you think they turn to? Why do you think we've had to go on so many tracking missions? But now someone you tried to make disappear - one of your own, no less - has returned seeking blood. And you're scared."

Cayde tried to speak, "Ah." After she paused shortly, her continuing tirade muted him.

"I just think, perhaps, that you've fallen prey to that old rule which never fails: that he who is the cause of another becoming powerful is ruined." Simone paced back and forth slowly on the old wooden balcony, her eyes locked on Cayde's, with triumphant swagger.

A palpable, tense moment of silence overcame them. Faintly, the frightened chirps of birdsong tentatively returned to the landscape. Another moment passed. And another.

At long last Cayde spoke. They seemed to all draw a breath of imminent relief at once. "So, is that a yes or an no on the job?"

"Ha!" Simone genuinely laughed, and almost grinned wide behind her helmet. "Well," She turned to her partner, "What do you think, Thad?"

"Of course!" Thaddeus perked up and straightened up against the wall a bit. He spoke with nearly zealous excitement, "Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour lies at my mercy all mine enemies."

Cayde gave a cynical shrug in response and looked to Thaddeus, "Calm down there, Hamlet."

"That's a yes from us. We can discuss specifics on payment en route. Where do you need us right now?" Simone lifted the sniper rifle she carried in the crook of her elbow the slightest bit.

"Ishtar Sink, Venus." Cayde visibly relaxed and was no doubt relieved to be down to business. "Be on call to move if I get a good clue of where he might be."

"Excellent." Thaddeus stood up and took a step toward Cayde, extending his hand for a handshake, which Cayde only somewhat hesitantly returned.

II

"Hell of a find for a solo patrol." A young man's not-quite synthetic voice whispered with quieted amazement in the near-total darkness.

"Getting that front door open was a little too easy." A decidedly artificial, masculine voice echoed through the huge man-made entryway in a massive underground bunker. A lone light shone from the small pointed object hovering over a heavily armored guardian's right shoulder, bobbing rhythmically with each of his titan's steps. "We might not be alone down here. Watch out for Fallen."

The titan's fingertips grazed the cold steel wall of the terraced platforms overgrown with lush, weedy vegetation. He passed over a flowering vine and admired a pastel pink bud. "Ha, pretty sure the Fallen would have eaten this stuff by now. I think we're safe."

The ghost sagged in the air and turned toward the titan's helmet, a reflective visor covered the face and the crown of his head, just barely discernible as a dull silver in the inky blackness. "Please don't pretend you've forgotten my lessons on Fallen biology and dietary habits, Sal."

The titan laughed and kept on down the hallway, marching with almost preposterously loud footfalls in perfect cadence. "Don't have to pretend." He announced happily. He approached the door at the end of the hall, inspecting it with his ghost's beam of light. The control panel to the side was cracked and broken and spilling with weeds. He appraised the door itself one more time before shrugging and forcing his fingers into the jamb and shoving it wide open with a mighty push.

"Either way, keep an eye out. I'm sending a live update to the Tower. The Vanguard might be able to make sense of what we find here." The ghost nearly whispered now, its pointed chassis flexing with nervous tics.

"And I won't be able to? Oh, ye of little faith." The titan stepped into the smaller hallway that led into the network of the bunker. To the left the path took an immediate turn, and he followed it instinctively. This door was similarly closed, and he shoved it open with similar nonchalance.

"I have my reservations. By the Traveler, what I wouldn't give to have a warlock, instead." The ghost sent its light down the new, shorter hallway ahead. This one featured a walkway with waist-high rails and the entire room tilted on its axis to end in a diamond-shaped door closed tight. "Is that… Salvatore! This is a Golden Age bunker! This architecture… do you think a Warmind could still be here, dormant?"

"No clue." Salvatore ran his fingers along the tilted door, tried to force the sections apart, but it did not yield to him. "Looks like a dead end anyway." He shrugged and turned around, continuing his march down deeper through the complex.

"Imagine the wonders hidden here. Untouched by scavengers!" His ghost whispered in eager amazement.

The titan passed another door choked shut by weeds. The sign above it was worn and completely illegible.

The cloying darkness seemed to close in tighter with each step through the bunker. In the blackness the hall seemed to stretch on for miles, and every thirty paces or so came another door shut tight to his explorations, with a similarly faded, and in some cases completely absent, sign marking their functions long forgotten.

His ghost's nervousness seemed to rush back in. "Maybe we should turn back. The rest of the team could help us figure this all out." It suggested softly.

"And share the glory? I think not. Besides, Rafael would make me open all the doors for him, anyway. And never shut up about it." Salvatore grumbled as he proceeded down the wide central hall.

"Hey, up there. Eyes up!" The ghost called out in his head. "The end of the hall." It shone its light on a set of metal doors that filled nearly the entire width of the hall. Above them were metal embossed letters, rusted but still legible. "Atrium. Might be important." It pointed its light to the side, illuminating a blacked out, but intact, access terminal on the wall.

"I can read, cazzo." Salvatore muttered as he made his way to the terminal.

"I forget sometimes." The ghost responded sharply.

"Whatever. Just open the door, Lucito." The titan held the ghost out to the terminal, and in a flash of bright white the little ball of light disappeared into the machine, bringing it sputtering back to life quickly. When the ghost returned, Salvatore pressed the large green button marked 'open.'

The wide doors to the atrium squealed on worn out motors as they slid open, parted, and clicked to a premature stop, leaving only a gap barely wide enough to squeeze through. Salvatore rolled his eyes and pressed his palms to the edges of either one and shoved them further apart with a mighty effort. As he stepped through the new, wider gap between the doors, the hum of electricity resounded behind the metal walls. Faint lights started to flicker to life slowly.

"Figured I'd start up the auxiliary power while we're at it. I couldn't access most of the facility systems, however. Something was blocking me. Something smart." The ghost's voice betrayed a curious mix of giddy excitement and numbing fear.

"Then we'll find it and bring it back to the Tower." Salvatore attempted to comfort the ghost with brash confidence as he waited for the lights in the atrium to come to life and give him a better view of his surroundings.

The lights flared to life in a nearly blinding flood of bright white light reflecting off of the dulled metal of the atrium's floor and walls from their dozens of haphazard placements across the floor. The auxiliary lights, mounted upon poles and hanging precariously low from rails running across the ceiling, washed the wide room in a blanket of white. As Salvatore took a moment to cover his eyes and adjust to the sudden intrusion that stunned his senses, his ghost let out a low synthetic whistle in surprise. It, being made of light itself, was apparently not deterred in the same fashion.

"Wow… This…" Its voice trailed off as it drifted farther away from the titan to inspect the room further. Its wonderment was swiftly replaced with mounting terror. "I can't believe this. Sa-... Salvatore," It turned to its guardian, only now stumbling forward and squinting into the room to look around. "Salvatore we need to go. Now."

"What? Why?" The titan groaned and kept one hand over his helmet's visor as he stumbled around. At last he began to get a better sense of his surroundings, and his free hand rested upon the edge of a steel work table littered with a couple dozen metal tools and instruments. He groped for one, held it up, and immediately recognized it as a pair of forceps. He glanced down to the table, and his gaze lingered on a set of ten or so scalpels, knives, saws, and other cutting tools. Their blades and handles were spattered and stained with something oily, brownish-black. He raised his head and looked over to where his ghost hovered, staring at him. The entire atrium, he saw, had a large number of these steel tables, about waist height and long and wide enough to lay down comfortably on, in the center. Along the walls were curiously wide white pod structures that stood about ten feet tall in unevenly spaced clusters.

What stopped him in his tracks was the cadaver lying on one of the more barren tables, the same oily brown liquid running down from it in now-dry rivulets to drip on the floor in pathetic pools. It was concealed by a white sheet, but its form was unmistakably human. The ghost bobbed in the air, silent, a foot over the body's head.

"This is some kind of weird workshop." The ghost stated almost blandly.

Salvatore inspected the other tables, and he counted seven others besides the one he was leaning against. Four of them were empty or held a few scattered tools. Two held cadavers similarly covered in white sheets. The last one, tucked into a corner next to a large computer array, held a body larger than the others that was less effectively covered.

The titan grimaced and took a stiff step forward toward the nearest body. With a shaky hand he reached out and pulled the sheet off in a swift motion, tossing it aside to the ground. His entire body stilled as he looked up and down, his eyes flitting about frantically as he began to piece it all together. The body was humanoid, but not human. Metal plates were pulled back to reveal surgically cut wires and softer material, with special attention paid to the abdomen and the back of the head. The oily liquid pooled underneath the corpse's midsection and oozed out with a horrendously powerful stench of rot. The plates and pieces of it were a rich lavender and its head was turned toward him, dead optics locked ahead and mouth agape. The back of its metal skull was open, circuitry spilling onto the table behind it. It was an exo.

"Oh my Traveler." Salvatore muttered.

"I ran a scan. They're all exos. Even the ones in the pods. Except…" The ghost turned and looked to the table in the corner. "That one's… Vex."

"Those pods have more of them?" Salvatore asked, aghast. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, but we need to either figure it out fast or leave. Or both." The ghost looked about nervously, as if searching for threats. "The vanguard might be able to help us."

"Can we get them out of the pods?" Salvatore inquired, completely ignoring the ghost's warning and making his way to the nearest cluster of four white tubular pods, running his hands over them and digging his fingers into the seams. He started to pry it open when he was interrupted again. He peered in through the thick blue-tinted window to the inhabitant inside, another exo, this one with a lime green finish, possibly female. Her optics were closed and her head hung slightly. She looked asleep.

"Sal, no." It was sad. "They're dead."

Salvatore nearly ripped the door off the pod, throwing it off of its hinges to crash to the ground. The pod hissed and rumbled with electricity as a rush of cold air blasted his armor. The exo woman inside was nude and remained upright, held in place by thick steel restraints wrapped around her neck, wrists, waist, and knees.

He stood in silence, fists clenching hard and his fingertips digging into his palms, for a moment. At last he spoke. "All of them?"

"Yes."

"What kind of monster would do this?"

The ghost's eye core flared a bright cyan as it scanned the broken pod in front of him. "It's a Golden Age cryostasis pod. They died in stasis waiting for… something. Maybe safe conditions after the Collapse, or for someone to come and get them."

"A savior that never came." Salvatore added solemnly.

"Whoever's been… working... on them probably found them like this."

Salvatore nodded gravely and took a step back. "You're right. We need to go. Whoever did this, they'll be back. Son of a bitch." He muttered the curse beneath his breath, "And so will we. With Rafael and Elise, and investigators, and-"

A sudden voice calling out to him from the atrium's entrance shook Salvatore from his verbal thought process. It was commanding, rough, and just off from being completely synthetic.

"Who are you? Speak." It echoed throughout the chamber in furious accusation.

Salvatore was slow to turn around. His ghost hovered behind him, peering from over his shoulder to inspect the newcomer.

The lone figure was a warlock, dressed in all black, with the notable exception of the bond he wore, wrapped around his upper left arm. It was a simple ring of tarnished silver separated into two dozen or more small squares that encircled his sleeve. His robe was long and tattered, his helmet, an obsidian dome, featured a V-shaped visor. He carried a curious rifle, gray with a bloodstained bayonet attached to the underside and short sinister spikes protruding along the barrel, and leveled it at Salvatore.

Salvatore, for his part, took the time to assess the situation before speaking. He kept his hands at his sides, still balled into fists, and spoke with surprising calm. His own armor, a brilliant turquoise accented with black, stood in stark contrast to the warlock's ensemble. "I should ask you the same question."

The warlock did not respond.

Salvatore's ghost spoke directly into his head now. "Keep your guard up. We don't know who this guy is."

A mechanical voice announced from the speaker system far above, "INTRUDER ALERT."

The warlock took a step closer to them. He seemed to address the robotic alarm system. "Did he hurt you, Methuselah?"

Salvatore tilted his head in confusion. "Methuselah?"

The voice responded, "NO. THOUGH THE RIGHTEOUS WORK HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED." Its hollow ring dug into Salvatore's mind.

Before Salvatore could try to make sense of these new revelations, his ghost interrupted his own thoughts. "We have to get out now! Run!"

The warlock shifted his attention to the titan again. "I will ask once more. Who are you?"

This time Salvatore stood up straighter and held his hands in front of him to let his ghost materialize his assault rifle into his waiting grasp, which the ghost did without hesitation. He hefted the weapon, a standard model painted the vanguards' signature colors, orange and navy blue, and pointed it to the warlock. "I am Salvatore-9. By the authority of the Tower, stand down."

The warlock stood perfectly still. Silence.

"Lower your weapon, state your name and alibi." Salvatore commanded.

The warlock did not move.

"Last chance before I blow your brains out." Salvatore threatened.

At last the warlock responded. "Judas. You are trespassing in my home."

Salvatore stifled a burst of incredulous laughter. "This is a crime scene. You've desecrated the dead."

"And what will you do to amend it, titan?" Judas asked.

Salvatore took a glance around, to the mutilated exo on the table, the mysterious Vex in the corner, and the table of filthy surgical equipment. He looked back to Judas, and responded with resolute conviction. "If you resist arrest, I have no choice but to kill you."

Judas nodded. "Let it be so." He squeezed the trigger of his rifle, sending a burst of three bullets punching into Salvatore's gut. The shimmering shield around him deflected the worst of the impact.

And battle erupted.

Salvatore dashed to the side, grabbed one of the empty tables at its edge, and flipped it onto its side for cover, thin as it was. He peered over it and fired a volley of lead at Judas.

The warlock stepped aside nimbly. He summoned a mass of deep purple energy into his free hand and hurled it at the titan.

Salvatore's eyes widened as the grenade landed behind his cover, erupted into a ring, and formed into a deep violet seeking projectile that hovered toward him. He stood and grabbed the table again, this time picking it up and running at Judas in an attempt to slam the warlock's head in with it.

Judas stepped back at the apex of the titan's swing and disappeared from sight. The table came crashing down and dented the floor.

The titan kept moving forward, glancing over his shoulder only to see the guided axion bolt still following him.

Judas reappeared in front of the titan and thrust the bayonet of his rifle into Salvatore's stomach. The translucent shield around him broke away completely. It stopped the titan in his tracks. Judas pulled the trigger, sending three bullets point blank into his opponent. He glanced down to see Salvatore's oily, brownish-black blood dripping from his wounds.

Salvatore grunted in extreme pain, gasping in silent agony as the bullets ripped through him. The axion bolt found its mark and exploded against his back, throwing him forward and impaling him further on Judas's blade. He dropped the assault rifle in his hands, but reached out and managed to shove the warlock away long enough to bat his weapon to the ground.

Judas stood straight and grabbed Salvatore by the throat. "Peace to you."

Salvatore's ghost yelled inside the titan's head even as it began the process of healing his guardian. "WE HAVE TO GO! NOW!"

Judas held Salvatore by the front of his helmet. For a moment the titan's vision focused intensely, but quickly faded to a fuzzy tunnel. He almost immediately grew groggy and his pain nearly numbed.

When Judas pulled his hand away, he appeared to be holding something. The ringing in Salvatore's ears almost muted the desperate cries for help. He shook his senses clear, and it seemed to work for a moment. With horror he watched as Judas held his ghost in a vise grip. The ghost's segmented pointed body squirmed and shook in vain as it screamed out loud now.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! NO! HELP ME SAL, PLEASE! SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Salvatore tried to move, but found it impossible to do anything other than watch. As the edges of his vision faded to black, however, he found even that taxing. He wanted to help his ghost, but he wanted to rest first. If he rested he'd be at his best for this fight…

Judas silently held the ghost until its screams died, its entire chassis growing dimmer with each passing moment. At last its glowing eye core flickered, faded. With one last burst of light it wailed.

Salvatore was shaken from his state of exhaustion as he felt his entire being wracked with excruciating pain from deep within and all throughout. His ghost let out a final wail as its light, and Salvatore's, was drained away from it.

"SAL! PLEASE!" It cried out.

Salvatore jerked into full wakefulness for a moment. He clutched madly at his chest as his ghost was completely drained of its life energy, the light of the Traveler. He screamed out and leapt at Judas, grabbing madly for the ghost held in the warlock's grip. His feeble flailings were batted away effortlessly. "LUCITO! NO!"

With a final stab of blinding pain Salvatore stumbled down onto his hands and knees before Judas. He shut his eyes tight and howled in agony. He was a guardian and had felt the sting of death so many times - yet never had he feared it until now.

Judas looked down to Salvatore and dropped the ghost's empty shell down in front of him. It clanked once on the ground and shattered into a dozen pieces, its now-dead eye core rolling toward its former guardian.

Salvatore gasped and panted hard, clutching at his chest and writhing in delirious torment. He looked up to Judas, but could not muster the strength to stand. His vision steadily narrowed further, and he reached out with a shaking hand for the ghost's eye. "L-L-Lu...Lucito. I'm... I'm so sorry, Lucito." He looked up to the warlock in black again. "Why?"

Judas stared down at him for a long moment before answering. "If I tell you, you will by no means believe." He answered.

Salvatore's entire body began to grow numb, and his arms buckled beneath the dead weight of his torso. He crumpled into a heap before the warlock. He gasped out a last insult, "Fuck you, asshole", before embracing the nothingness of unconsciousness.

III

"Did he really think that would work?"

"It's Roy."

"So, yes?"

The warlocks shared in their laughter as they walked out of their group meeting in the Black Chamber. The ranks of the scholarly and martial orders alike filtered out of the long hallway leading toward the courtyard and the pristine marble library beyond. Koru Sen and Eve Delaine held hands as the crowd around them scattered like leaves in the wind, off to attend to their own business.

Ikora Rey strode past the two of them, giving Eve a respectful pat on the shoulder. "Your thesis is inspired, miss Delaine." She smiled and looked to Koru. She nodded once in recognition. "Mister Sen."

"Thank you, Ikora." Eve smiled back and the three warlocks walked side by side for a few paces.

"We must part ways now, though I encourage you to develop your theories further, they could go somewhere practical soon." As Ikora turned on her heel and made her way back toward the main Tower plaza, she called back. "Oh, and keep your titan friend out of my Black Chamber, will you?"

Koru offered a lax salute that the vanguard did not see in response. He shook his head. "Where did he find such a long warlock robe?"

Eve shrugged and giggled. "I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that."

A familiar voice called out from ahead. "Yeah!" Commander Roy shouted, flailing his arms in the floppy sleeves of a humorously oversized neon-pink warlock robe. He trotted over to them, nearly tripping over the trailing length that slid on the ground behind him. "It was a special order. One of those snippy-snip clothes guys."

Eve let go of Koru's hand to cover her mouth as she burst into a short bout of laughter.

Koru sighed. "Do you mean a tailor?"

Roy looked down to his thick arms in the billowing garment. "No, I think her name was Mabel. I think."

Koru pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

The titan looked to Eve and Koru in turn now. A few other loitering groups of warlocks were scattered across the courtyard, likely discussing the recent meeting, or just gossiping. Sometimes it was hard to tell. "Yeah, but it didn't work. Lame."

"Of course it didn't work." Koru frowned. "You look ridiculous."

"Could've worked if Phoenix was here." Roy muttered to himself, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Where did Phoenix go?" Eve asked. "It's not like him to miss out on a-"

"A harebrained scheme." Koru finished for her.

Eve gave him a curious glance. "I was going to say a fun plan, but sure, put words in my mouth."

Koru clenched his jaw.

Roy answered her. "He went off looking for his boyfriend."

"Phoenix has a boyfriend?" Eve raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "I have to hear this."

"Yeah," the titan bundled up the trailing hem of the over-long trenchcoat he wore and held it in his arms. "Some guy we met this morning. Warlock, an all black guy. He got all up in Phoenix's face and when he left Phoenix went chasing him. Oh!" Roy glanced to either warlock excitedly. "Was that guy in there with you at the warlock club meeting? His name was Simon. I know it because he said so, and you have to remember what Simon says."

"Uhh…" Eve shrugged and looked to Koru. "I don't know anybody named Simon."

"I know the man he's talking about. I was there this morning. He was coming out of the Vanguards' office, but none of them were in yet." Koru held his chin and looked up to the high-noon sun in the clear blue sky. "But I didn't see him in the Black Chamber."

"Doesn't every warlock have to go, though?" Roy asked.

"If they can. Sometimes they're on a mission while it happens." Eve answered him.

"He could have had a mission. We shouldn't worry about it." Koru dismissed the titan's worries with a flippant hand-wave. He turned to Eve, "What are we thinking for lunch?"

Roy tilted his head slightly in confusion. "Well, he left after you-"

"No he didn't." Koru interjected.

Roy continued, "So let me finish. He said he was going to the thingy meeting for warlocks where you guys went. But if he didn't go..."

Eve ignored her boyfriend's question. She turned to Roy, "If he didn't go, then he lied."

"Why would a guardian lie?" Roy asked.

"Says the pirate kell?" Koru offered in obvious disdain. "Eve, come on. Don't encourage him."

"I think he might be onto something." Eve countered.

"It's Roy. He's never onto anything."

"Guys, I'm right here." Roy piped up, and was promptly ignored.

"Didn't you say he was secretly a genius or something?" Eve asked.

Koru scoffed. "I called him a genius of simple mind. Which means he's still of simple mind."

"But you did say genius!" Roy yelled happily. "You heard it!" He called out to the warlocks engaged in quiet conversation outside of the library, "Koru just called me a genius, guys!"

"I didn't-" Koru was cut off before he could continue.

"It doesn't add up, Koru. Mysterious warlock in the Vanguard office, before they get there." She paused. "Wait, then why were you guys there at that hour?"

Roy answered her. "Phoenix wanted to get a copy of our best fights from the tournament. We knew Shaxx would have them."

Koru added, "Phoenix seems to think we can go viral if he makes, and I quote, a 'kickass montage for the Internet'."

"Oh." Eve mused. "That checks out, I guess. Anyway," She continued on, "A warlock covering up his tracks and trying to get into restricted areas? We need to follow up on this." She descended the several stairs down into the courtyard now. "Or at least report it to the vanguard."

"Yeah!" Roy shouted. "I'll go find Phoenix and meet you guys there! They are going to be so proud of us."

"Okay, sounds good." Eve smiled and waved as Roy left at as much of a full sprint as he could muster while contending with the double-length bright pink coat he still wore. She turned to Koru, "Did you still want lunch? We might have to stop somewhere quick or wait until after the vanguard thing."

When she turned to start toward the plaza, Koru grabbed her by the upper arm and stopped her. "What are you doing? It's just a hunch. From Roy."

She shook his hand off of her and turned to address him. "With evidence that you corroborated. Koru, what is this really about?"

"What do you mean?" Koru asked. "He's an idiot, and this isn't the first time he's derailed something because he reads too far into things."

"No." Eve replied simply. "You've been acting weird ever since the Trials of Osiris."

"So have you?" Koru tried to offer as a counter. "You know, the whole thing last night with," He looked around to make sure they were not being listened to, and lowered his voice to just above a whisper anyway, "With the leash and collar?"

She furrowed her brow at him. "That's different and you know it. And you liked it."

He met her stern gaze with his eyes.

"You said we should talk." She stated.

"And we didn't."

"We are now."

He recoiled and stood up a little straighter. "Shit."

"Go on, say what we should talk about, Koru." She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned back against a tall decorative planter overflowing with a leafy bush. She watched as Koru descended the stairs and stood closer.

He took a deep breath. There was no getting out of this happening right here and right now. He spoke almost too fast and his heart felt as if it would leap out of his chest at any moment. "Is it true what they say about you?"

"Excuse me?" She blinked once in surprise.

"About your," He paused to carefully consider the proper word. "Your promiscuity?"

"I can't believe you." She rolled her eyes. "Is that what all this weirdly protective-but-distant behavior today has been about? My sexual past? Who even are 'they'?"

Koru looked down and balled his hands into fists. "Phoenix and Roy said they looked into it after I asked you out. They said you've been with dozens of men."

She scoffed at that. "Didn't you just dismiss Roy's investigative claims earlier because he's Roy? Seems a little hypocritical to believe him on one thing but not another."

Koru clenched his jaw. "Also Clarence Roy Smallwood and Arda Maras in our first round of the Trials."

Her face remained stern and stony. Her emerald eyes seemed to burn into his very being. "And you'll also believe two strangers? What did they tell you?"

"Clarence said he," He looked around again to make sure no one was listening in. Luckily the Black Chamber was locked and empty. No one had a reason to come to this side of the courtyard until the next meeting. "He said he had you. And Klein, too. He said you had a reputation for being loose in the Crucible."

"Seems about right." She shrugged.

The words crushed the air out of his lungs. "Excuse me?"

"Seems about right for what they usually say about me. Why are you bringing this up, Koru?"

"Roy also fucked you." It was not a question.

"And?" Eve asked.

"He always makes jokes about it to me. It hurts." Koru's golden eyes met her emerald ones for a moment.

"Lighten up?" She suggested with only a hint of sarcasm. "So you hear rumors about me, your girlfriend, and decide to take them at face value. Real stellar research method, Koru." Eve shook her head and looked out to the sunny courtyard. The other warlocks had filtered away to the library or back to the main plaza.

"I wanted to bring it up," Koru explained. "Because I need to know if you're serious about us."

Eve glared at him. "That's how relationships work, Koru."

"Good. Roy said it was strange for you to stick to one person. I'm glad Cayde was wrong about you, too." He breathed a sigh of relief.

A silent moment passed. She scowled at him and spoke at last. "Roy said. Phoenix said. Clarence said. Arda said. Cayde said."

"Excuse me?" Koru asked, taken aback.

"But you never asked me about anything."

"I-"

She continued. "You never asked me how many men I slept with. You just took their number and rolled with it. You never asked if I actually had sex with Clarence-"

"Did you?"

"Well, you know what, Koru?" She stood up straighter. "I don't think you need to know. You never asked me how I felt about all this."

"Well-"

She held up a hand to stop him. "No, no. You lost that chance. Now, if you want to be honest with each other, we can be. I'll ask you a question, and you answer it honestly. Then you get to ask me one."

"Seems fair." Koru assented.

She barely gave him the time to respond before she spoke again. "Why did you ask me out?"

He paused.

"Well?"

"I thought you were pretty - no, beautiful. Smart. Strong." Koru smiled softly.

"Did you know I was the leader of a tier-three Crucible team?" Eve asked.

"No." He admitted. "I don't watch much Crucible."

"I see." She stated simply.

"My turn." Koru suggested. "Why did you say yes?"

Eve shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh." He glanced away.

"You know, Koru, I get called a slut, and worse, a lot. Behind my back and to my face. It's not an easy thing to deal with. There's a lot of reasons I never stuck with one guy for more than a few nights. Most of the time it's because they're assholes." She looked down to the ground, to her navy blue combat boots. "I guess I said yes to you because I usually say yes to a lot of guys. When we went out on patrol, I thought you were really weird, and then a bunch of crazy shit happened. You weren't the person I thought you were, but that was a good thing. But now you're not trying to impress me anymore and I get to see your true colors." She sighed and looked him in the eye. "Who do you think you are, Koru?"

"A guardian? A warlock? Your boyfriend?" He suggested. Too late he realized that her question had been rhetorical.

"Look, I need some time for myself." She closed her eyes. "I'm going now. Meet up with Roy and tell the Vanguard about this Simon thing. He'll definitely forget the details. I'll call you later."

He couldn't help himself. "Why are you so helpful to Roy?"

She opened her eyes, her emerald gaze seemed to lose some of its potent vibrancy. "Because he's a nice guy and he's my friend." She answered simply.

"Not the fucking thing?" Koru bit down hard on his tongue when he finished speaking.

"No. You know, my sex life wasn't exactly a secret when you asked me out. You just didn't know it. I thought you already knew and liked me anyway. I thought you were different from the other guys." She slowly turned and walked away toward the plaza. "But you're just like everyone else. Goodbye, Koru. Don't call."

His breath caught in his throat. This wasn't happening, was it? He stood still and watched her go, her head hung low and her rose-red trenchcoat flowing around her legs. He felt a cold, sinking feeling in his heart as it seemed to drop down low in his chest.

"Wait," He muttered weakly. He called out across the empty courtyard after she had left. "I'm sorry."