They got looks all the way up to the tower courtyard. He couldn't say that either of them were particularly surprised, especially after finding out that the average human didn't break six-foot-five.

Standing at ten and seven feet respectively certainly set them apart.

Stepping foot into the courtyard was a strange experience. Tall banners flew red flags that flapped in the wind. Large towers of white marble with inlaid computers glistened in the afternoon sunlight.

Large grass patios were full of what looked to be resting guardians, many of them clad in full armor and basking in the sunlight. Valtira wished that Amanda had come with them so that they could be introduced by someone who knew where to start.

'Zavala is in the main building to your right.' Funst supplied, prompting him to look. How he'd missed the massive concrete building there was beyond him.

"Who is Zavala?" he asked his ghost aloud. She pulsed with…agitation?

'He's the commander of the Vanguard. I think you should talk to him'

Valtira shrugged and looked down at his friend before beckoning him to follow.

"Funst says that Zavala, whoever he is, is in the large building." he pointed at the place in question and Bracken shrugged.

"Ghost is saying pretty much the same. Seems to like the guy a lot." Valtira chuckled.

"It seems that Funst," she pulsed with agitation yet again while supplying him with an image of Zavala. "Does not share his opinions of the man."

"That's unfortunate." Bracken said. "Ghost doesn't seem to have anything but good stuff to say." Valtira supposed that there was something personal between Funst and this man that she wasn't yet willing to tell him.

Oh well, in due time.

The building was impressive on the outside, but inside it was magnificent. It only held a single long room, but within that room there were dozens of people and at least as many computers. Long granite tiles supported the clacking of people's heavy boots on the grounds, only a few even bothering to look up at the new arrivals. There were also several machines roaming about the room, holding either guns or brooms.

At the very end of the room, he saw the man who Funst had been talking about. At the top of a flight of stairs, he stared out a large window into the untamed wilds beyond the city's walls. He cut an imposing figure, tall and broad-shouldered with a bald head of light blue skin.

Next to him was someone else, with yet again little to no hair. She, however, did not hold the same kind of imposing air about him. Where Zavala stood with a wide and solid stance, she seemed to keep to herself. Slim but powerfully built, Valtira had no doubt she was just as dangerous as the guardian next to her.

The pair of new guardians approached the seasoned veterans at the end of the room, weaving through a crowd of awestruck operators. The pair of elder lightbearers turned to greet Valtira and Bracken, though they almost looked like they'd been slapped when they saw the both of them.

"Greetings, Zavala." Valtira bowed, Bracken doing much the same. "We were told by our ghosts it would be wise to come and meet you." To Zavala's credit, despite his shock he greeted them calmly.

"Greetings, new lights." he said in a flat tone. Not quite monotone, but certainly measured. "It is always a pleasure to see new members of our ranks. Especially ones so…robust." Zavala sighed and looked at Ikora, who shrugged and allowed the data pad in her hand to vanish.

"I'm afraid we don't exactly have the time to introduce ourselves further." She said, "My name is Ikora Rey. I'm the warlock Vanguard, commander Zavala is the titan Vanguard. For now, please feel free to wander about the tower or the city." She gave them a curt nod and then turned back to a computer behind her, Zavala doing much the same.

And with that, Valtira and Bracken exited the large room back into the courtyard.

"Now what?" the exo asked. "We met the commander and his…friend? Sidekick?" Ghost appeared before the pair and buzzed his wings in a circle.

"She's not a sidekick!" he snapped indignantly. Valtira imagined that if the small machine had legs, he'd be stomping them in annoyance. "She's got the same authority as him! Besides, you should show her a little more respect. You're a warlock, after all."

"I am?" Bracken asked aloud. "If I'm a warlock," he pointed a thumb at Valtira. "Then what is he?"

Valtira somehow instinctively knew the answer, even before Funst showed him another image of Zavala.

"I'm reasonably sure that I am a titan." He replied. Funst buzzed with a mixture of happy feelings, something he returned in kind with a smile. "In response to your first question, though, I imagine we should take Ikora's advice and take a look around."

Bracken looked around in a circle before turning back to his gargantuan friend, shrugging.

"Doesn't really look like much to me. I'd rather get caught up to speed on whatever is going on out there." Ghost perked up again, fluttering excitedly around his guardian before coming to rest over his shoulder.

"The cryptarchy would be a good place to start! We can go find master Rahool, and he can get you access." Bracken gestured vaguely into the air, shrugging.

"Lead the way, then. We don't exactly know what he looks like."

"Sure thing!"


After a short explanation of the cryptarchy and its members, they managed to find the man in question.

Master Rahool, as it turned out, was a being much like Zavala, though his skin was a bit darker blue. He was moderately tall and had a much more affable expression, the corners of his lips permanently turned up ever so slightly.

"Hello guardians." he greeted the giant pair. If their size surprised him, he made no indication of it. "What can I do for you?" Valtira extended a hand in greeting, one which Rahool took with a widening smile.

"We both wish to get ourselves up to speed with the world around us. I believe we are referred to as…new lights?" Rahool's eyebrows shot up at that before he turned around and opened a small box.

"Well then, new lights. If you wish to get up to speed, then the cryptarchy's libraries are open to you." He pulled out a metal rectangle that glowed with electronics. "This is the access key to the main libraries of the general cryptarchy. Every guardian should have one, and I see no reason you two should be excluded from that number."

Valtira took the small keycard and let Funst stash it away. Bracken, without a word, turned and walked away. Rahool smiled at the behavior before turning back to Valtira.

"Not the most chatty, is he?" The massive exo stopped a few feet away, waiting for his friend.

"I suppose not." Valtira replied. "But I imagine he will be, in time." Rahool shrugged.

"Perhaps, I bid you good day, guardian. Make sure to stop by with any engrams you come across." Valtira nodded and bid the man goodbye before catching up with Bracken.

"Now I suppose we only need to actually find the cryptarchy." he began. Bracken shrugged and revealed Ghost once more.

"Which way is it?" he asked with a raised metal eyebrow. Ghost pulsed midair for a moment before turning around and floating away.

"Follow me. The libraries aren't too far. They're stashed deep inside the wall to keep them safe."

"I see."

They followed the ghost through various parts of the tower, the hallways becoming smaller and smaller until Valtira was nearly forced to walk sideways just to fit. Funst appeared at one point to help guide after they fell behind Bracken and Ghost.

The warlock had offered to wait, though Valtira had simply shooed him away and told him that he'd catch up with him.

"Perhaps I can be transmatted into this Cryptarchy?" he asked. Funst shook midair and replied with sadness. "That's unfortunate. I assume it is a security measure." Funst nodded and continued to float next to him while he attempted to squeeze through the small hallways.

Thankfully, the hallways did not shrink any further after this, and he managed to get to the front door of the cryptarchy. Bracken was waiting there for him, and he quickly passed the keycard over the door to give them access.

The library of the cryptarchs was thankfully far larger than the hallways that led to it, a soaring ceiling supported by heavy granite pillars. The room itself was composed of endless rows of shelves, each holding hundreds or thousands of small data-pads or strange, 12-sided shapes. Dim lights in the ceiling allowed the shelves contents to light the room, rendering the people moving between shelves almost invisible.

Well, invisible to most. Even the extreme lack of light allowed for Valtira to see perfectly fine.

"Where do you want to start?" he asked Bracken in a low voice. The exo looked around at signs hanging above various shelves.

"Why not modern history?" he pointed at a sign saying just that. Valtira shrugged and they both departed for the area, quickly separating as different things caught their interests.

Valtira broke off towards an area containing large amounts of battle-history, as well as notable guardians who made their mark on the city. The first 'book' he opened with the help of Funst was on the history of an event known as The Battle of Six Fronts. The symbolic history of the battle's significance was apparently depicted in the insignia of the Titans, a hexagon divided into four sections.

He looked at one of his shoulder plates to find that very symbol emblazoned into the thin metal. He looked at Funst, who gave him the emotional equivalent of a shrug.

"You knew from the start." It wasn't a question. Funst didn't deny it either. He wasn't upset, of course; that very nature was likely why she'd picked him. He read further.

'As the battle of Six Fronts came to a close and the titans of the wall stood victorious, it was decided by the Consensus that Titans would be elected as the steadfast defenders of the city. A role that many titans took to quite willingly.

Resolute in their willpower and completely unbending in the face of danger, Titans have continued to be a symbol of the unstoppable spirit of mankind. Even now they remain heroes of the people, figures like the legendary Saint XIV even having statues erected of them in the main city square.'

A picture of the titan in question was shown on the data pad. Valtira, personally, felt like 'legendary' didn't even begin to describe what he was seeing. Saint XIV stood on top of a literal mountain of Fallen bodies, a shield of furious purple light in hand as he held the line. He read the next data entry, and much of it was tactical information about the battle itself.

A lot of it was jargon and positional data, as well as recorded transmission logs between guardians. He analyzed all of it, trying to form a picture of the battle in his head. From his mind's eye, it looked like an impossible battle.

And yet, the guardians of the Last City had stood victorious over the enemy. It truly was an honor to be counted among their number.

He moved to the next entry, and this one was of a new battle called Twilight Gap. The entry was completely unlike the mood and heroic paint of Six Fronts.

'In a final desperate raid from the united Fallen houses, the Last City came under attack once again. Despite the city's best efforts, guardian forces were pushed back from the walls. Under command of one Lord Saladin Forge, the defensive forces were told that the walls were lost and to retreat.

Only thanks to the defiance of a single group of guardians were the walls held against the endless tide of Fallen. Under the command of Lord Shaxx, a group of six guardians made their way into the Twilight Gap of the wall and held their position, cleaving swathes through the invading enemies.

As they continued to hold the line and guardians were rallied, reinforcements quickly arrived. Even as lightbearers flooded into the area, they fell almost as quickly to the vicious blades of the Fallen. Over a thousand guardians died their final deaths that day.'

The idea of so many guardians dying their final deaths there was heartbreaking. Valtira flipped to the next entry, the communications between guardians painted a truly desperate scenario. Loss after loss crippling their morale while civilians fled into whatever they could hide behind.

Before he could read much further, though, he heard a set of soft footsteps approaching. He replaced the data pad on the shelf and turned to see a hooded cryptarch approaching him.

"Excuse me, guardian." She pulled her hood back to reveal a long head of dark blue hair and similarly colored eyes. "Is there anything I can help you find?" Valtira shook his head.

"No, I think I'm quite happy here. The history of the city is most interesting." The cryptarch smiled up at him.

"Quite so. I'm glad to see a titan taking interest in the past of the city which hosts him." Valtira was, again, a bit thrown off by the fact that she wasn't fazed by his unorthodox appearance in the slightest. Perhaps news of him had already been spread among the cryptarchy?

"If I'm not being too intrusive," she continued. "May I inquire as to what your armor is made of? It doesn't look to be painted or anodized, but I doubt your ghost would make your armor out of solid gold."

Looking down at himself, he found himself wondering much the same. What was his armor made of? It was incredibly light and flexible despite being able to reflect most of what the Fallen had shot at him while they were escaping.

"I confess I do not know. I was first revived with it on my body." Funst floated down to the eye level of the cryptarch, suddenly projecting a strange shape into midair. A bulbous sphere surrounded by many orbiting, smaller spheres. It meant little to him, but it clearly meant quite a lot to the cryptarch who examined it.

"This is…how is that stable?" she asked the ghost. "By pretty much every law of elemental composition, that should be horribly radioactive."

"I'm not sure myself." Funst replied. "All I know is that I found him covered in robes laced with the material. I changed them into armor so he'd be safer while he escaped the Cosmodrome."

The projection vanished, and Valtira found himself still wonderfully in the dark as to what was happening. Perhaps that was what the material looked like on a smaller level than what he could see with his eyes?

"Well, I'd imagine you'll want glimmer for that atomic structure?" she asked. Her tone was almost giddy, though she masked most of it. Were it not for the fact that he could hear her heart accelerating, he'd probably have thought it was little more than academic curiosity.

"I…suppose so." Valtira replied. "How much would you pay for it?"

"Three million glimmer straight from the stores of the cryptarchy." she said immediately. "As well as a pick from any equipment you'd want from our vaults." Funst's emotional response was almost like she'd been slapped. Was that a miser's bargain? He was about to press for more when Funst almost shouted at the cryptarch.

"We'll take it!" She flashed into a puff of light before Valtira could say anything else, and suddenly the cryptarch had produced a small data pad.

"Alright. Three million glimmer has been transferred to your account." The cryptarch said with a smile. "As always, it was a pleasure, guardian." Before he could say anything, the cryptarch had walked away.

"What just happened?"


Valtira walked through the halls of the cryptarchy for several more hours, simply reading and absorbing information. He read more of the history of the city, as well as what little documentation there was of the time before the city, known as The Dark Age.

He also read about notable accomplishments of the other classes of guardians. How a fallen named Taniks had been slain by hunters. Well, not so much hunters as much as it was the hunter, Cayde-6. Warlocks that saved the city through their peerless intellect.

Eventually, though, he felt it was time to go. Funst agreed with him, and revealed that she'd gotten permission to transmat him in and out. As he appeared once more on the alabaster stone of the tower courtyard, he turned to look at the city before him.

Despite having shed no blood in its defense, he now found himself experiencing a strange compulsion to keep those who lived within its walls safe.

'A warrior fights not because he hates what is before him, but because he loves what is behind him.' Funst supplied. Valtira tilted his head downward in confusion, raising an eyebrow. 'It's a phrase from the Golden Age. Or, well, before the Golden Age.' She explained.

"Whoever said it was a wise person." Valtira replied. "Perhaps we should let Bracken know we are out here. I feel the urge to go out and do my job as a guardian."

'Into the city?' Funst asked. Valtira shook his head and looked away from it, towards the massive spire looming above the tower. 'Oh. You want patrol duty. I'll get you signed up.'

Valtira chuckled as his ghost set about getting him patrol duty. He sat on the soft grass of the courtyard and looked around, taking in the rather pleasant view given to him by the tower's vantage point over the city.

By now the sun had set, and above them a sea of stars peppered the night sky. Some of them blinked in and out of sight, others blazed like signal fires. The ones that glowed blue reminded him of the shine of the various datapads in the vault of the cryptarchy.

They also reminded him of the glow of the glimmer he'd just been paid.

What was he supposed to do with all of that? Funst had explained to him how that was practically a king's ransom when it came to lump-sum glimmer payments. An average guardian would see far more than that much in a year's work, but he hadn't really had to work for it. He'd just woken up with it on his body.

Perhaps he could pay to have some armor fashioned out of the same material? He doubted it'd cost three million glimmer, but it'd certainly be something beneficial.

"Hey Valtira," Bracken's voice crackled over a comms line. "Ghost tells me you're signing up for patrol duty. Mind if I tag along?"

"I see no reason to say no, friend." He replied. "Where better to get experience as a guardian than in the field?"

"Very true, that." Bracken replied. "Want to take a stroll back through the cosmodrome? I'm itching to get to work."

"Feeling some wanderlust, are we?" Valtira snipped back. "And here I was under the impression that warlocks kept their noses buried in a book."

There were a few moments of silence on the line, and Valtira worried he'd taken it a step too far. Did Bracken take great pride in his warlock-hood?

The reply came soon, though, and it was full of the same good-natured venom. "At least I've got a brain between my ears, titan. Can you even read?"

Valtira was about to reply when he heard a pair of boots clacking on the pavement behind him. Turning, there was none other than Bracken approaching from the stairwell.

"Greetings, bookworm." He said to his exo friend.

"Hey there, meathead." Bracken gave a lopsided grin, the edges of his metallic face crinkling at the sides.

Ghost was floating over his shoulder, flipping around midair. Valtira held his hand out for Funst and she appeared in a flash.

"Well," Valtira began as Funst game him a small pulse of…pride? Accomplishment? Ah, she'd signed him up. "It seems that I'm signed up and ready to go." Valtira said. "Are you?" Bracken looked at Ghost for a moment before nodding.

"Looks like it."

Valtira followed Bracken to the hangar, but he didn't board a vessel. Not that he'd have trouble buying one, but it was the principle of the matter.

He too was feeling rather antsy, and the idea of being able to exercise his wings was an attractive one.

The sight that waited for them, however, was certainly not the one they'd arrived to the tower with.

In the place of the rickety and broken-down jumpship that had taken them here, there was a bright and shining new craft. It had the same shape and body, but the paint was now a shiny blue and orange. The long, cylindrical nose of the craft had a new antenna sticking out of the front, the engine covers glistening in the rising moonlight.

"Damn." Bracken remarked as they approached the jumpship. "Amanda knows her stuff."

And speaking of the woman, she chose that moment to emerge from behind the parked jumpship with a wrench in hand.

"Oh, hey Bracken! Had some of the techs give it a quick once-over."

"Quick…?" Valtira trailed off. Amanda laughed loudly and rapped the wrench against the ship's hull. There were a few sounds of whirring machinery, and the engines sprang to life, albeit quietly.

"Yep!" Amanda continued, approaching them. "Just a little tune-up. She's all good to go. Actually, it's perfect timing, because I figured y'all wouldn't really have much in the way of paying for the repairs." Bracken sighed and looked at Ghost, who drooped midair.

"Sorry Amanda. We'll use what we get on patrol to pay you back." The white ghost said to Amanda. The hangar director, however, simply waved it off and continued grinning.

"Don't worry about it. Consider it free of charge this time around. Just don't go getting it all busted up out there." Bracken made to reply, though Valtira held out a hand, and Funst, to stop him.

"How much would the repairs cost?" He asked. Funst was practically vibrating with excitement, something he could most certainly feel through their bond. Amanda pulled out the same data pad from earlier in the day from her waist belt and typed a few things. Her eyebrows scrunched as she read over the screen.

"Well, as it turns out the techs had to make a repair to the vacuum shielding. I was expecting this to run you about twelve, maybe fifteen grand." She bit her lower lip, tapping a few buttons. "Typically a vacuum shielding unit is pretty much impossible to damage without blowing up the ship. But, since it was, that'll probably be closer to thirty."

"Funst?" The giant titan asked, and the ghost quickly zapped the tablet. Amanda's eyes went wide as a number appeared on her screen, and she quickly looked up at Valtira.

"You, uh, sure you meant to pay that much?" She turned the pad around for the pair to look at, reading 75,000. Valtira looked down at Funst, who gave the physical and mental image of a shrug.

'Consider it a tip.' she told him. He translated the message, and Amanda chuckled. The tablet disappeared into her belt again as she turned around to look at the ship behind her.

"I don't do tips." She said confidently. "Instead, go take a look at the hangar. I got a few spares for your size, Valtira."

"What?" he asked. "I can fly." He flapped his wings, a small gust rustling both his and her hair. Bracken, the robotic being he was, had no hair to tousle. Amanda rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Can you breathe in a vacuum?" He looked down at Funst, who shook midair before vanishing once more.

"I suppose not. I'll follow your advice, then, and take a look through your spares."

A quick look, a payment, and a crash-course in piloting from Funst had Valtira piloting his own jumpship. The tech had said it was a 'phaeton-class' long-range jumpship, and would confidently take him anywhere he needed in the solar system.

'I signed you up for patrol duty on Mars.' Funst pulled up a map of the solar system on the jump ship's main window. 'Bracken will be there too.'

Valtira would admit to little enjoyment while flying the jumpship. He'd much rather be using his wings, but he understood why he needed it.

The craft was ascending into the upper atmosphere at several times his maximum flight speed, after all. Now repaired, Bracken's craft was doing much the same.

"Check-check this Bracken." Valtira's friend's voice crackled over an intercom. "Valtira do you read?" Even though he couldn't see it, Valtira raised an eyebrow.

"Since when were you in the military?" He asked. Bracken sighed over the comms.

"Never. I just figured it sounded cool. Guess you answered that, though."

Valtira chuckled as space opened up before him.

"Very well." Valtira eased his hand off of the ship's control stick, allowing it to drift freely into the rapidly advancing cold of space. "To Mars?"

"Do we have a choice?"


Interplanetary transmatting had been an unexpectedly fun experience. The vibrant colors and lines of blurred stars made for a gorgeous picture. It was one he hoped to never forget, even if he'd be transmatting pretty much everywhere.

It only took about thirty seconds for the bright colors and lights to fade, leaving him in high orbit over the destination.

His first note was that Mars was not called The Red Planet for nothing.

A massive orb of endless red sand, with only two frosted poles to show for any seasons. The atmosphere, thin as it was, still glowed a soft blue under the sun that slowly peeked around the planet's edge.

Rounding the edge of the planet's surface was a colossal mountain, so big it was almost sticking out of the atmosphere itself.

'That's Olympus Mons.' Funst supplied.

The name sounded just as impressive as its stature. He focused on it, his superior vision quickly bringing detail into focus.

It was hard to see more than a faint outline of the area, but atop the mountain there was a small base of…something. For who or for what, he could not tell, but he saw it.

The moment passed as Bracken's jumpship translated into being. A few hundred feet off of his left side, the ship glowed in the rising sunlight.

"Hey." Bracken sounded jovial. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Fancy that." Valtira replied. "I've spotted something on the peak of Olympus Mons, shall we investigate?" Bracken paused for a moment, the line only crackling with open static.

"Sounds dangerous." He said.

"We're guardians. I feel that dangerous is where we belong." Valtira shrugged in his cockpit.

Bracken hummed into the line. "Maybe so," He pulled across Valtira's prow, spitting off into the distance as his ship's throttle was unleashed.

Following suit, his own craft rocketed towards the colossal mountain.

The closer they got, the more he realized it wasn't a small base. It was a city. Certainly not one bustling with activity or life, but it was there. Several miles across, with once-towering skyscrapers making up the heart of the ancient ruins.

A major sprawl of what looked to be housing, as well as long dilapidated roads and shopping centers all covered in martian dust.

"Holy…" Bracken said into the comms. "This…this is Golden Age stuff?" Their crafts drifted over the city skyline, large oblong spheres sticking out of the ground at regular could barely fathom any life at all living here, let alone a city.

His ship's reading of the atmosphere at this altitude only supported the feeling.

Their crafts continued to fly over the desolate city, gathering various readings to determine if it was safe to exit the craft or not.

'You know,' Funst nudged his mind with an emotional smirk. 'Those readings are only for regular humans. Your armor is airtight, and I can manufacture an atmosphere for you.'

"Bracken-" Valtira was cut off as his friend's ship came to a stop, and the exo appeared on top of a building's skeleton. "Hmm. You beat me to it." The winged guardian materialized on the same building as his craft flew over it, though both of their ships bolted away towards the city skyline.

It seemed that Funst was indeed telling the truth, as he had no difficulty breathing despite the abhorrently thin atmosphere.

"So, did something catch your eye?" Valtira asked, Encarmine appearing on his back. He couldn't sense any nearby threats, but he wasn't in the mood to be caught flat-footed. Bracken leaned down and brushed some of the debris aside, then shook his head.

"Not so much my eye as my ship's sensors." The exo drew his own weapon, the gun flashing into his hands. It looked like it'd been restored, shining in the slowly rising sunlight. "Ghost was running an area scan and picked up something big near this building. Figured it'd be better to be on the ground."

Valtira could understand that, and also started helping out. They pushed larger debris aside, including a heavy beam that'd fallen into the structure from one of the nearby buildings. The roof revealed nothing, unsurprisingly, so they both hopped down into the structure itself.

Inside was much, much colder than outside. Which was saying something, as there was barely anything outside besides slow and frigid wind.

The internals of the building were just as broken and old as the outside, with rusting and rotted support struts barely keeping the thing together. Large concrete outcroppings from the floor shaped in an 'L' looked like seating areas. Not to mention the long-dead trees that sprang up from husks of dirt.

Valtira listened closely, but heard nothing besides the wind pushing garbage around outside.

"We're alone." He began to push more things around, turning over cans and containers as Funst scanned them. Bracken did much the same, though the pair split apart from each other as they inspected the ruins.

A small inlet into one of the walls was barely tall enough for Valtira, and the door definitely wasn't. Ducking in, he drew Encarmine from his back as he took in the room. Plenty of spots for someone to hide, tall shelves filled with unlabeled cans. There were some that had plastic containers of what seemed to have been food centuries ago.

He reached up to his helmet and tapped it, comms springing open between him and Bracken.

"Any luck?" A grunt of effort was the response before he heard a loud clatter echo through the old structure.

"Maybe. Found what looks like some kind of basement over here." Valtira left the old food pantry behind, stepping carefully with the realization they weren't over solid ground. Who knew how large the basement was?

As he approached his companion, he saw what the warlock meant. A massive steel door had been pried open, a hefty padlock having been shorn in two by Light.

Thematically, the path down into the basement was architecturally different. Where the rest of the building was smooth and designed for aesthetics, the walk down was militaristic and minimal. Frayed wires from exposed panels stuck out into the hallway. The path down was also far too small for Valtira to gain access.

"Curse my unusual size." He snarled internally. "Well, that's certainly a good start. Why do you think other guardians haven't found it?" Bracken shrugged and Ghost appeared over his shoulder as a flashlight.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Big city, maybe? This definitely leads down towards the...whatever it was that Ghost picked up." Looking at his white companion, Bracken nodded his head down the stairs.

"Definitely." Ghost replied. "When you opened that door, I got a better lock on the signal. Some kind of power generator."

'Golden age power? That'd be invaluable for the city.' Valtira nodded along with his ghost's musings, peering down the long staircase.

"Looks to be about a hundred feet down." His vision allowed him to see all the detail of the odd staircase, the wall quality improving dramatically as it went down. Open and damaged walls turned to well-maintained steel, the walls made of a diamond-patterned metal paneling.

Most of it was unpainted save for the guard rails of the staircase, which were bright yellow.

"Thanks. I'll be down and back in a jiffy." Bracken turned to the larger guardian, and though the exo was wearing a helmet, Valtira could tell he was smiling. With that, the warlock ducked down the hallway, gun at his shoulder.

"Well," Valtira sighed and turned around, examining the alcove that Bracken had found. It definitely looked to be some kind of maintenance area, tools lining the walls. There was an old and cracked screen, one that appeared to be some kind of access port.

Right underneath it, slumped against the wall was a corpse with a gun in its lap.

Valtira sighed and approached the body, examining it for any possible causes of death. It was remarkably well-preserved, decay and mold unable to thrive in the sparse air. The complete and utter lack of wounds on the body indicated a suffocation.

'Or something paracausal.' Funst added. Valtira tilted his head in admittance, grabbing the weapon from the…man's lap. It was tiny in the giant's hands, far too small to be reasonably applicable. His finger wouldn't even fit inside the trigger guard.

The caliber was acceptable, though. Easily enough stopping power to kill any fallen that might have come through.

He had a feeling that the fallen had nothing to do with this, however.

Sighing, he placed the weapon back into the body's lap before returning to his post outside the staircase to the basement, nothing besides the sparse wind to keep him company.

Funst pulsed in annoyance.

"Apologies. I did not wish to force conversation on you."

'You're my guardian, Valtira. I'd be a poor ghost if I didn't talk to you.'

He supposed that was true, but she was not the talkative type. And he was not about to force her to chat if she did not wish it.

'And if I do wish it?' She sounded almost…smug. 'Rule number one about having a ghost: unless you actively try to hide it from me, I'll know.'

Hmm. How wonderfully practical. It certainly explained why she did so many things without him having to ask.

Bored out of his mind, he sat down and began to inspect his blade and spear. Both of their handles were crafted from the same mysterious gold as his new armor, gleaming in the light. This time, however, he noticed something different about the spear he hadn't seen before.

Small words, almost unnoticeable without inspection, were engraved into the haft. He couldn't read them, they were in an untranslatable language. But they were there.

"Interesting." He mused before looking back into the abandoned complex. More nothing, just destroyed roof and small rays of ever-increasing light.

"Val…fou…up?" His helmet crackled with Bracken's staticky voice. He turned around and looked into the staircase, Encarmine flashing away as he gripped Telesto with both hands.

"Bracken? You're not very clear. Could you say that again?" He received no response for several moments, only hearing wind and…

He whipped around as something snapped outside the room. Telesto's spearhead suddenly pulsed with light, blue energy arcing across its surface.

It was distant, but still close enough for it to be a threat. The snap turned to a repetitive clicking sound. Like needles tapping against the concrete and tiled ground.

There was another snap, this time more clear. Like a thunderclap combined with a file against steel. Three more sets of needles on the ground, all moving in perfect time with each other. Telesto almost hummed in anticipation.

"Bracken. We are under attack. If you can hear me, I advise you to stay underground."

No response again. Valtira closed his eyes to listen again. Sloshing liquid, though it was viscous and heavy. No heartbeat. Machines left over from the ancient city's defensive network? Did it even have one?

'Most didn't.'

Closer and closer he listened. A humming. Angry, but logical. It felt…curious. Like it was trying to learn something. He reached out with his mind, trying to find the heart of whatever was here.

Nothing again. Just a background of…introspection. Like a lattice of minds that didn't really think.

He opened his eyes and set foot outside of the room, finding himself alone in the large building. They, whatever they were, were close. He could hear the needles. Like little wisps of breath against his ears. Another snap, and then a heavy thud. Not needles, more like sledgehammers.

Telesto twirled in his grip as he stalked through the empty hallways. They didn't know he was here, but they marched ever closer to the staircase.

"Tira!...ines!...Ance! Re-" Bracken cut off once again into static. Valtira's ears were pounding with the thunder of marching needles. Another snap. More hammers. More needles.

'Valtira…I don't recognize these signatures. Do you think Bracken was telling us to run?'

"Unlikely." He whispered. "We must investigate first." They were just around the corner. The marching was so loud. Why were they so loud?

He turned the corner and saw what Bracken was likely being cut out by. A collection of machines, many of them only the size of a human. The sledgehammers, though, were nearly his own height. Massive guns rested in their hands while beams of light transmuted the ground before them.

Wherever those lances of energy touched, the surface washed away into cuboid structures of rock.

'Vex.' Funst whispered. 'Sentient machines. They have strange markings, though. Vex don't normally let themselves get covered in plant matter.'

"Whatever they are, we must buy time for Bracken." And with that, there was no more talk. Several of the machines turned to him, massive and singular red eyes glowing. A strange roaring noise filled the air, and all of them rotated on the spot.

The air erupted into fire the next moment. Lances of red energy spat across the short distance between himself and the machines. They were…slow. He dodged around them, his wings pushing him closer to the Vex.

Telesto lashed like a viper, sweeping towards one of the larger Vex. A barrier of energy crackled and rebuffed the strike. The large machine brought its cannon to bear, a violet mist filling the air before throwing him backwards.

A barrier of Light crackled just above his armor, the feeling of his Light almost intoxicating.

'I am the…' The memories creeped in again, and he shook them away. No time. His spear lashed out at the large Vex again, this time with far more force. The barrier crackled, a roaring purple cylinder around it flashing to life before buckling.

Telesto ran it through, completely bisecting it.

As its torso impacted the ground, the arm reached out and seized his ankle. It whirred at him, bringing the gun up once again. Telesto smashed through its chest and white fluid was sent flying.

The liquid crackled with lightning, but he was already away. The machine had died after he vacated it of the strange fluid. The weak point, it seemed.

Telesto was a blender. Vex disappeared in flashes cobalt light, their fluid cores painting the walls white before evaporating. Small flashes of orange weaponry from the smaller Vex fizzled against his shield of light, every time filling his mind's eye with visions of…something.

Metal hands, mostly. He shook it away, killing them for daring to remind him of a troubled past. Larger Vex would attempt to immobilize him or call in reinforcements. More snaps, more sledgehammers on the ground.

Encarmine soon joined its brother. Vex would evaporate in yet more blue light. There was a final, even bigger Vex. It hovered a few feet from the ground, each side mounted with a colossal energy weapon.

The violet energy mauls filled the air with energy, forcing him to evade. He approached rapidly, massive white barricades filling the air around it in a circle. Hardier than the purple fields surrounding its smaller brethren, Valtira swept underneath them and ripped his sword upwards.

The thing was bisected in an instant. That wasn't the end though, as the two halves suddenly began glowing a worryingly bright orange.

'Valtira! Evade!' Funst screamed. He leapt away before the area was consumed in a golden inferno.

The following silence was eerie, as the building once again echoed with nothing but slight wind. His weapons still crackled with their unnatural lightning, but it was barely audible. A set of footsteps sounded behind him, though they were familiar ones.

"Well," Bracken huffed. "You've been busy too, I see."