Nothing is Born Strong
"I know I began weak, the same as you. I don't care if you're an Exo, staring at that number and wondering where you've come from. Or a Human, hungry to understand the ancient world that left you for dead. Or an Awoken, reborn in the very essence of what your people hide from. Together, we're the pointed end of a long stick of happenstance. Change one ripple in an ancient ocean and we would never have been granted the Light within us, or the good Ghosts that want to help us.
"Humble origins."
"Every world begins as a big pebble lost among trillions. Every worthy sun was once cold hydrogen spread thin across the vacuum. Even the universe, this cosmic garden that surrounds us and awes us... this monument to Creation was once the size of an apple seed. And everything that's splendid and great stands at the end of incalculable chance and mayhem.
"Yes, you have talents. Enormous, wondrous powers. But you should put the smirk away. Do you know what a Guardian is? Not yet. Your name is another pebble. You are a cold apple seed.
"But you will grow."
Mira didn't need a whetstone. Her blades were near impossible to dull, no matter how much of humanity's enemies forced her to try. But she liked the feel of one, the calm and focus it induced. On the longer trips across the system, she would take the small block of quarried stone and just drag it across her blade, back and forth until the edge could prick her through her armor. Then she'd start the second blade. Then the third, the fourth, the fifth and so on.
Lord Saladin's speech resonated through her head, mixing with the sound of grinding metal until it was all one dull hum. She knows what it's like to start small. To be made to feel small. She knows what it's like to grow; to be viciously broken down and have to crawl her way back from the deepest depths. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn't all the way there yet. She might never be.
Her ship's engines rumbled smoothly, sailing its way through space towards the site of one of the first Iron Banner matches on Mars. They couldn't be much further away. Now she'd see if all this training and back-breaking would pay off.
May and Shino seemed to be working better, at least. Spoke plenty during the gala. Even then, Mira doubted the tension would ever leave. Shino would always look at Aro and see Pride. He'd see their friend's killer. He'd see the man who ruined humanity. And May, ever kind, would always see this as wrong. If they won, if they beat all the Heralds and saved themselves from whatever was trying to use the Aro and the Gate to reach them, then maybe things could go back to how they were before. But how do you forgive the end of the world?
Khan called her from the cockpit. "Mira. We're arriving."
She stood, shoving her blade back into the sheath around her hip and then quickly inspecting all the others; both her boots, behind her back. Only then did she take up her slender, dark cloak and wrap it around her shoulders. "Katrina, you and the girls ready?"
The response was immediate. "Is that a real question?"
Mira smiled. "Just asking. Can't have you slipping up and holding my team back."
There was rustling over the comms. The sound of a sniper being loaded and a hand cannon being cocked. "I'm glad you think you're funny. Someone ought to."
The ship's engines shifted and the brakes engaged. Mars blew up into view as Mira and all the others left warp space behind; red sand, polar ice caps, Cabal-occupied moon and all. Mira dropped into the pilot's seat and disengaged the autodrive, steering herself away from the flock of ships. Her, her team and Katrina's. The other six moved in the opposite direction, heading down towards their own designated landing area.
"Hey. Hey." Shino's voice crackled on the comms. "Guess who gets to hold the flag?"
"I swear you steal it."
"He did." Amir's voice came from a distance over the comms, the sound of Shino shushing his Ghost right after. But the Ghost had about as much regard for Shino's authority as Shino did for his own; which was to say, none at all. The next time Amir spoke, it was clear he had come closer to the mic. "He stole it from Jessie's ship before launch. She's been yelling at him the entire trip he-" Amir was cut off, no doubt by Shino snatching him out of the air.
"Dropping into the arena." Khan flew back to her. The fleet of ships broke through the clouds. Khan retook the controls and guided them lower.
He didn't need to ask but silently did. Her answer was always the same.
The ship's cockpit disappeared, replaced by the red, glowing haze of heat and sand. Mira landed on the ground and one by one, the others followed suit until Shino, flag in hand, arrived last. Massive and imposing, the Titan more than likely took up all of whatever feed was recording them, standing at the center as he did. He twirled the glowing pole around his fingers one time, a second time for Jessie's benefit and then slammed it down, spawning the bright red flag. The games were on.
"Kill them before they kill you. It's as simple as that." Saladin's voice was so starkly different from Shaxx's. Not just in the deepness or lowered tone but in the inflection. Shaxx spoke with encouragement, even some bit of excitement to see how the battle would pan out. Lord Saladin held expectations, even if he didn't outright say so. They were here to impress, not entertain.
As soon as the old Guardian had finished speaking, the others were off. Katrina and May were clambering up perches for high points on the map while the Titans kept to the ground, Sora behind them. Mira had plans to do the same but she had watched enough Iron Banner matches in her time to predict what was coming next.
Jessie seemed to realize it first, slowing down as she neared the corner. Shino kept on, full steam ahead. Mira watched him round the bend, counted to three, made it to two and then heard a sharp, dull bang. In the corner of her visor, the enemy's score went up by one.
May called to her. "Shino down?"
"Shino's down."
"Death by shotgun?"
"Straight to the face," Mira sighed, "You'd think he'd learn."
"And you'd be wrong," Shino quipped, up again and already moving. Mira had her own rejoinder ready, from years of their back and forth but red had just begun to crawl up into her radar. A guest to attend to.
Mira twisted around, taking herself underneath and out of an enemy Titan's fists, jumping down from a height above her head. She charged back in as soon as they landed, Arc charged knife sliding through a gap in their armor.
Big arms shoved her backwards. She went with it, using the distance to pull out her hand cannon and let out three shots, point-blank to the head. Going rigid, the Titan let out a quiet hiss of air and then crumpled into a pile of limbs and armor on the ground. In the corner of her eye, the score changed again; one to one. "Good thing I'm here to cover your mistakes."
Mira had just sheathed her blade when the crack of a sniper rifle rang through the warm air. On instinct, she dropped behind the nearest cover, trying to remember everything from the short instant so she could locate the sniper. Movement in the corner of her vision moved drew her eyes downward. The score, their own had moved up again. It was when she crawled back up did they land on the body of a Hunter, lying on their back, a smoking hole in their chest. Mira let out the sharp breath she had been holding. They must've been invisible, sneaking up on her.
The sound of a sniper being cleared and racked again came over the radio. May's voice followed right after. "And good thing I'm here to cover yours."
Shino laughed, loud enough for her to hear both over the comms and despite him being nearly half the arena away, in person. She chuckled, despite herself. She deserved that. At least a little bit.
"Asura?"
"Yeah?" Asura answered, never taking his eyes off the screen. Usually by now, Spirit would've glided into his vision to get his attention but if she had, she'd just get grabbed and held out of the way. On the feed, a Warlock slid behind a short wall, a sniper shot from above that Asura knew had come from Katrina sailing over her head. The Warlock had dropped into cover with momentum, kicking up a cloud of obscuring dust. Keeping that momentum, she launched herself as high into the air as she could and out of the dust cloud, catching Katrina in the process of reloading. The Nova Bomb the Warlock dropped had Asura's mouth on the ground but the way Katrina whipped the sniper rifle up and hip-fired her opponent through the head mere instants before she was killed had him leaping out of his seat. He could hear the cheers and exclamation of other viewers from down the hall.
"Come on, Asura," Spirit called, still watching the feed herself, "It's time to get started."
He groaned but stood, taking his chair in hand. He twisted it away from the screen and back towards the dining table at the center of his dorm. Scattered across the plain black surface were schematics, weapon parts, datapads with even more schematics. He almost turned the seat back around.
"I barely even know where to begin, Spirit," he said, flicking a screw across the table and then scrambling before it could fly over the edge.
"Maybe it's not a matter of where but who."
Soft-spoken but to the point, that's how his Ghost always was. He knew where she was leading and his answer was immediate. "No. Absolutely not."
"No one has better access to memories of your past than he does," Spirit reminded him.
"None of us have heard from him in a solid year." As true as it was, it still managed to feel like a severe understatement. There had been a number of times in the past year where Asura plain forgotten that Wrath(A) was there, so deep was he buried within Asura's mind. But Asura would always eventually remember and it would always be followed by the reminder that he only controlled his body because Wrath(A) allowed it. He was the alternate personality now. Now and maybe even forever.
Asura sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Maybe I shouldn't even bother, Spirit," he said, "It doesn't even make sense. It's a gun. A simple gun. It shouldn't bother me so much."
"But it does."
"Well then, I shouldn't let it." He reached for one of the datapads, a sketch of a simple hand cannon. Just looking at it seemed to strike something within him. Not enough to demand the entirety of Asura's attention but just some of it and that was already too much.
He tossed it back down, rose to his feet and started to pace. It really was bothering him; so much for not letting it. He only ever saw the damn thing in dreams. And even then not entirely. More often than not, he'd see Cayde, twirling Ace of Spades around his finger. Or he'd see Aro, sights trained on a target, Hawkmoon in one hand, one Nova Bomb with the power of five in the other. Sometimes he'd see Shin Malphur and the Last Word. Other times, he'd see the Gunslinger Herald with Thorn trained between his eyes. Because of his stellar luck, only during nightmares.
The fact of the matter was that there was no direct reference to any gun he might have owned thousands of years ago. Just a hand cannon and the person it was associated with. That alone should be enough for him to just write the whole thing off but for two things. The fact that they kept happening was one. The fact that he knew a Guardian named Arochukwu was the other.
Asura stopped pacing and walked into his bedroom, up to the window. Light streamed through, not as intense as it was hours ago; the day was ending. His eyes focused on the Traveler, great and ever-present. Maybe the memories were his but the recurrence must have been due to something else. Aro's dreams were never just dreams. Maybe his weren't either.
Asura left his room behind and sat back down, one hand on the edge of the table, gripping it tightly.
"Spirit?"
"Yes, Asura?"
He sighed. "Constant monitoring. If, even for a second, you feel I might lose control, call the others and put me down." Circumstances be damned, this was his body. If he has to go out, it'll be on his terms and his terms alone.
His Ghost blinked at him once before moving a distance away, out of Asura's grabbing range, should Wrath(A) prove truly desperate.
Asura closed his eyes. He focused on memories of his time on the Vault, how it felt to be a prisoner in his own head. Any time he spoke to Wrath(A), it would be face to face. Himself in his mind's eye and Wrath(A) as the same, the two of them in some deep, dark, expansive room. As if they were in space, nothing else in the void aside from the two of them and whatever surface they walked upon.
There was little need to search. Asura's gaze was drawn in one particular direction and what he saw was disheartening.
Far off into the darkness was a figure. On the ground, curled up tightly around itself, a simple cloak covering the entirety of its body. Asura only recognized him so quickly because that was how he appeared the last time they spoke. How far out of it must Wrath(A) be to not even so much as move in the last year?
It took some doing but Asura found his voice. "Hey," he called.
No response. Asura pressed on anyway. "We need to talk, Wrath. What's this about a gun?" He asked. "Wouldn't care in most cases but I keep seeing it. You keep seeing it. Why?"
Nothing. Not even a shift in the air. Asura wanted to grab him but he could only see it ending badly, even if it was all imaginary in a way. Either way, his patience had run out. He was back in the real world, as easily as waking.
Nothing changed aside from his tighter grip on the table. Spirit floated closer. She said it before he could. "No change."
"Don't know why I even tried," he muttered, "If he can't make my life a living hell, he can't be bothered."
"Maybe we should approach it a different way," she suggested, "You didn't talk all that long."
His eyes ran over the table once more, weapon parts and datapads strewn everywhere. A day wasted; he was no closer than he was before.
Asura shook his head and stood, taking his chair in hand and twisting around to face the feed again. He wasn't nearly as engrossed as before. "It's pointless," he murmured. "Is it too much to hope I'll eventually forget this?"
"Anything's possible." It was a charitable answer. He let out a sharp frustrated growl, "Maybe we can go talk to Aro-"
"I can't keep running to Aro every time I need help," Asura said, "He's got a whole solar system to worry about."
"And he'd still help if you asked."
"Which is why I don't want to." He sighed and slumped in his chair. "Not today. I'm tired of thinking about this today."
Spirit silently agreed and turned back to the table. She had seen him field strip a gun and re-assemble it in impressive times but it was hard to imagine these parts as anything special. She began to pick them up.
No part of any weapon did. Hawkmoon, Ace of Spades, The Last Word, they are all nothing but parts and imagination made real. But they were parts first, simple and small. And nothing was born strong.
Crona stepped up and through the doorway, a bit surprised that she just could. The War Cult wasn't known to be all that welcoming and they had no patience for the facade of it as New Monarchy did.
"Maybe it's because they know who we are."
The staring and the whispering agreed with Sol. Knowing what she did about the factions, an open invitation from someone she had only spoken to for the briefest of moments made her uncomfortable.
"Lady Guardian." The rough, wizened and familiar voice had her spinning on her heels. The person she had come to see had been situated above her, watching her nervously shuffle about and around her space, no doubt.
Crona craned her neck to see. "Uh, Crona, ma'am."
Lakshmi-2 hummed in amusement and leaned on the railing. "I know who you are."
"You know my father?"
"Hero of Twilight Gap, mentor to the Titans, overseer of Vanguard strike operations and commander of the Guardians as a whole. I know who he is as well." She waved a hand, beckoning her to come up. Crona did as asked, finding Lakshmi and several of her followers reclining in the low light. "But he is no Vaultbreaker, Lady Crona."
Lakshmi bade her sit and Crona did, pointedly away from the others, Lakshmi's fellow followers. "Your leader, Lord Arochukwu, left the gala rather quickly."
"He had an early start in the morning," Crona lied, "Backed up on work."
Lakshmi waved a hand. "I did say the gala was at a bad time. Not just timing on its own but after the incident." She shook her head. "Your brother has proven himself as a diplomat time and time again but I fear this may spiral into something more. He was right to argue against this as he did."
"I stopped seeing anything about it on the news a day after."
Lakshmi laughed dryly. "It was an Exo, dear. The media has more exciting things to focus on. Like the Executor's party. But rest assured, no one has simply forgotten." She brought herself more upright. "Ah, but I should remember you sought me out. I doubt it was to discuss such a tragedy."
Discomfort quickly returned. "I...was told by the gunsmith...you know him?"
"I know Banshee."
"I'm looking for an Arc conductor," she said, "One of special make." Sol transmatted the schematic to her hand and she held it out. One of the War Cult's followers, an older human, took the datapad and passed it to Lakshmi. "He pointed me to you."
The Exo silently examined it. Over time, her posture shifted again and again, each becoming more rigid than the last. "I am surprised the old man remembered."
"You have it then?" She hoped she didn't sound too excited.
She handed the pad back. "I do. But I haven't laid eyes on it in a long time. I'm very selective about who I give it out to."
"Who was the last person?"
Lakshmi watched her for some time. But her eyes were unfocused, distant. Then she chuckled ruefully. "Would you forgive me, Lady Guardian, if I told you I could not remember?"
Crona blinked. "I'd...be very confused. You just said-"
"I am very selective, yes. My confusion is most likely greater than yours," she said, "But it is what it is." She leaned forward slightly, hands tented, elbows on her knees. Crona could've sworn she saw her followers lean in. They were hanging off every word coming from her mouth. "I remember that he was a Guardian. Little else. Again, forgive me, Lady Guardian." She held her hand out and took the datapad. Her eyes scanned the image of the Arc conductor once more. "The weapon you're making, it must be something special."
"I think it is," Crona replied truthfully, "I want it to be."
"And to think, this little thing is the key." She hummed, still so clearly amused, "But as the old wolf has said, nothing is born strong." She laughed, "Ah, look at me, quoting to you a man you've known all your life."
Lakshmi rose to her feet and beckoned for Crona to do the same. "Come see me again, Lady Crona." She led her to the top of the stairs. "We'll discuss the Vault more and in the meantime, I'll see about getting you this conductor."
Crona paused. "Oh, that's…" she bowed her head slightly, "Thank you, Lakshmi."
"You sound surprised, my lady."
"It's just when you said you were selective-"
"You thought that excluded the Vaultbreaker herself?" Lakshmi-2 laughed, "Lady Crona, if you are anything like the people you grew up around, not just your father but your mother, your brother and even our late Hunter Vanguard, Traveler rest his Light, then you must know that the Vault is not the end."
"Yes, I know," was all Crona could say.
"If you do, then I think you and I will get along very well. Don't let me keep you any longer. Thank you for the talk, Lady Guardian. I will contact you when I have news."
Crona was left alone at the top of the stairs and quickly made her way out of the War Cult's lounge. As soon as the place was out of sight, Crona fell back against a wall, a pressure lifting off her neck she hadn't realized was there.
Sol manifested before her. "That didn't go as I expected," she muttered.
"But it went." She could hear the shrug in his voice. Then he leaned in. "An Arc conductor and the Vault of Glass. There's a story there."
"I guessed that." Crona pushed off the wall. "And she doesn't remember it. It sounds...wrong, in a way." She sighed, "I wish we could talk to Ghost." Just the mention of the old thing had her arm tingling, the Aegis mark she kept under white bandages reacting somehow. She ran her hand over the skin and struggled not to start worrying at it so publically.
Crona stepped back out into the Hangar, forgetting how deeply the walls were insulated and nearly jumping from her skin at the sudden barrage of sounds; jumpships moving in and out, work being done and cheering coming from the lounge. "Match is still going?"
"Hard as it is to believe, we weren't in there for very long." Sol's voice took on a bashful tone, "And I may have been keeping track of the feed while we were."
Crona snorted, her hand immediately flying up to her lips. "Shino. Shotguns to the head. How many?"
"Five now."
"He promised me ten." Crona turned from the hangar and made her way down into the Tower lounge. People surrounded the large, wide screen that was put up just for the event but they all had the courtesy to not swarm the thing. She leaned against the wall at the base of the stairs, arriving just in time to see Shino take his sixth. Both jeers and laughter rolled through the onlookers.
"I assure you, he's working on it."
On the feed, just as Shino's corpse was transmatted away, something exploded, releasing a burst of sound and purple light. A dropped grenade on death; if she didn't know him, she'd say Shino did it on accident. Both the Titan who killed him and an unlucky Warlock in the wrong place at the wrong time were staggered but remained alive. Sitting ducks, unless they're smart.
Lightning crackled and the feed trembled with the sound of thunder. The feed had yet to follow the sound and find its source but the Guardians did. The Warlock jumped, attempted to Blink away and failed, falling to the ground. The Titan just scrambled.
All for naught when Jessie made landfall. The Warlock was vaporized on impact. The Titan, who had put some distance between then and was starting to feel his Light return was chased down before he could turn and aim. Jessie's team racked up another two points, the same mix of cheers and groans blew out from the crowd and on the feed, far off in the distance, the tiny figure of Shino had his arms in the air, jumping up and down.
"You have power. Use it."
Of all the times to remember Variks' words, this was a strange one. Maybe it was Aro's own self-depreciation, feeling himself better with his powers going wild than with a gun in his hands. He's resorted to it on a number of occasions. The Gorgon's maze came to mind.
Aro's hand came up to his throat, remembering the horrible pain. Sunfire straight from his throat, third-degree burns and blood choking the life out of him. He needed better control. He's seen what he would be capable of if he did.
It's quiet where he is. Preferable after a long day with Aashir in a busy lab. It was as uncomfortable as he expected, not just stares and the whispers but Aashir's general aloofness. It shouldn't be surprising given their past relationship but Aro figured they had been making progress. At the very least he had been cordial but Aro couldn't tell if it was due to Pride or because he was Ikora's Hidden and he needed to keep his distance. The reason wasn't as obvious as it was with Shino and Mira.
Asura has been leaving as soon as he returned, heading down to the lounge to watch the Iron Banner match there and to give Aro some measure of quiet. Crona was meeting Lakshmi-2 and Daniel was…elsewhere. Just not here. Aro wasn't sure that his wordless apology had successfully cleared the air between them. Maybe he was still angry about Maya, Aro certainly was at himself. Maybe he felt guilty. Didn't matter to Aro. He knew he had to let it go. He was already losing friends. He couldn't afford to hold grudges, no matter how much he had been hurt. Maybe it made him a doormat. But it was preferable to loneliness.
Hawkmoon was disassembled before him, pieces well organized on the desk. He's been like this for a while. Asura has returned for a few minutes, took one look at the pieces, shook his head in disgust and left. His own project couldn't have been going much better.
Aro picked up Hawkmoon's exotic shard, a pale golden thing that pulled on his Light, not that it mattered to him; he was known for his reserves. When Aro had taken the thing to Cayde, the Hunter took one look at it and laughed. He said he never expected such conning from the Reefborn. The thing was uncharged and unfocused, making Hawkmoon no more special than a training pistol. It was still a solid gun, he explained, but it could be so much more. It was up to Aro to make it so.
"Yeah, I'm drawing blanks." Kain returned from his floating back and forth across Aro's bedroom, his form of pacing.
Aro chuckled. "Seems to be going around. Crona's making progress."
"Crona has help."
Aro helped the crystal further into the lamplight, trying to will it into doing what he wanted. He watched the shard, Kain watched him and the shard ignored them both. "Why don't you take a break?" Kain suggested.
"Not tired."
"A lot going through your head."
"That's always the case with me." Aro leaned back in his seat, turning the crystal around in his hands. "Do you remember what Ikora said? When she passed by us with Cayde?"
"The best way to build is to start small."
Start small. Start easy. What was the easiest thing he could do?
Nothing is born strong.
Aro pulled the shard closer to his face.
Just a cold hard seed. But you will grow.
The thing still tugged on his Light, like water pushing against a dam. Aro opened the dam. As soon as he did, his Light flowed. Gently, like a stream down a quiet hill. The shard soon warmed in his hand. Dimly, it began to glow, emitting a rather low level of light and shifting through a spectrum of colors, painting Aro's hand the same. Aro let it continue, not willing to push more than was necessary but too enamored to stop. So enamored, Aro jumped when his door suddenly opened. Holding the shard close to his chest, he turned.
Daniel filled the doorway, arms bracing the frame. Aro's hand and the shard remained close to his chest. "Yes?"
"Are you busy?" Daniel quietly asked.
Aro rolled the crystal in his fingers. "A bit," he says.
Daniel nodded and stepped in, letting the door close behind him. Aro turned back, bringing the crystal out. It hadn't cooled in the slightest. The drain on his Light had not ceased, even with his focus somewhere else entirely. He hears the booted footsteps approaching, then he felt large hands come up to and squeeze his shoulders. "Come eat," Daniel told him. Silently, Kain agreed.
Aro just shrugged, his eyes never leaving the exotic shard. Daniel's hands ran down his chest as he bent down to place his chin at the top of Aro's crown. He repeated himself, "Come eat."
A short, noncommittal grunt was all Aro was willing to give, taken again with the crystal, still warm, still shimmering. "I know you're hungry, Aro."
"I'm fine."
"What if I carried you?"
Aro snorted unexpectedly and felt Daniel smile into his hair. "You'd carry me if I asked?" Aro asked, allowing one break in his attention towards the shard.
"I'd carry you if you asked," Daniel responded. His voice lowered, his face pressing further into Aro's head and when he spoke again, it felt more as if he was speaking to himself. "I'd do anything if you asked."
Aro had no response to that. But he did put his hands to Daniel's and move them. Then he stood up, tucking the shard into some small, obscure pocket on his person. Still, his Light flowed and the shard warmed his skin. He stepped out from his desk and shoved the chair back in. "Alright, let's go."
Daniel spent a few seconds looking surprised. But quickly, he shook it off and began to wrap his arms around Aro's waist. Aro's hands quickly came up to his arms. "That...won't be necessary." Daniel muttered a bashful apology and stepped back. "It's fine. Just can't have you cracking my head against every wall you find." Instead, Aro took his hand and let himself be gently led out of his room and out of his dorm.
"Aro," Daniel said, breaking their silence. He lowered his voice, "About...about the gala…"
"It's fine, Daniel."
But Daniel shook his head. "No. No, it isn't. It...it wasn't. I shouldn't...shouldn't have acted like that." The hand in Aro's lifted away and the arm wrapped around Aro's neck, dragging the two of them together. "Forgive me," he murmured, air ghosting over Aro's ear.
Daniel had the look of a man struggling to hide his pain. Aro didn't like seeing him so broken up over something so stupid. "There is nothing to forgive." Aro wouldn't condemn a man for wanting to protect his sister. Especially against such a threat as real as him.
But the man who could frustrate a mule was having none of it. He held Aro even tighter against himself. "Forgive me," he growled, playful and begging all at once.
"Forgiven. Please stop choking me." Finally, a smile that wasn't sad or ashamed or pleading graced Daniel's face and Aro's heart leapt at the sight. The Titan loosened his hold but only slightly, still wanting to keep Aro close to himself. They walked further on, Aro lost in the goings-on around him and the company rather than his own head for once.
In his pocket, the shard continued to take his Light. Such an appetite for a small thing but again, he had reserves to spare. He didn't know what it would lead to but less and less, he was finding himself concerned about it. This is where he will start. He will figure out the next leg of his journey once he had completed this one.
He and Daniel pass by a screen and Daniel stopped them, his attention taken by the feed, playing the last legs of the day's Iron Banner matches. As it was everywhere, a small crowd surrounded it. Aro turned his gaze towards his just in time to see Sora, her body dead and broken on the ground, suddenly shoot up to her feet. Accompanying her rise was a massive flare of fire and sunlight, blowing out from her and rolling over her killers, still within the vicinity. None were killed but all were burned, blinded and staggered. But there were still three of them and without a Nova Bomb, Sora stood little chance once they had regained their faculties.
Echoing cracks suddenly filled the air. And with each one, the enemy Guardians dropped like sacks of rocks. At the bottom, May's name appeared next to the names of the recently deceased, the symbol for death by sniper separating the hunter from her downed prey.
The crowd was naturally in an uproar. Cheers and laughter, groans and complaints. "You know," Daniel had to yell for Aro to hear him over the crowd, "Shino and Jessie did that earlier."
"They did?"
"Well, something like that," he said, "But I've got to say, these two did it better."
"Not surprised. Warlocks usually do." Aro sneered and then ducked in a flinch when a finger gently flicked his ear, all in good humor.