Sooner or later comes a time
When we will reap what we have sown
Sooner or later we all have to go
Sooner or later there's a time
To face the music, face the sound
Sooner or later we will have to go

Sooner Or Later – Rise Against

The Trickster - June 14, 2960

They really should have been paying more attention. When on the trail of someone with a name like 'The Trickster', one should use every ounce of their faculties looking for deception. Yet the two Guardians were so absorbed in their conversation that they barely even noticed the booby traps.

Maybe it was a good thing. The Trickster thrived on paranoia. All of this- blithely walking past piles of sabotaged engrams, stepping around tripwires like they were just thorny vines in a forest- it was insulting. Dismissive. The Scorn Barons were all birds of a feather when it came to their pride. Though the two Guardians weren't aware of it, the Trickster watched them, stewing in rage.

Rage, ironically, was the topic of conversation.

"I have never seen you so… personally invested in a hunt," Veera commented. There was a concern about her, a worry.

Azra knew why. She was acting out of character. Normally she put a good deal of effort into keeping her job compartmentalized from her personal feelings. Personal stakes led to recklessness, thinking with your heart instead of your head. She'd seen too many times the toll that could take on people.

There just wasn't much choice in this matter. Cayde was dead. Azra burned with grief, smoldered in the chains of duty she'd forged for herself. "I'm angry," she clarified for Veera's sake.

"You are angry now," Veera said slowly. "Are you going to be angry when we finally track down Uldren?"

"Maybe," Azra said. "I… don't think I want to be." She never wanted to kill someone because she was upset with them.

"Maybe it's a flaw of mine," she said, "that I'm too willing to let things go." She spread her hands. "I get Maeve. I really do. But when we get back to the Tower with our report, she's still gonna be angry. And years from now someone's gonna mention the name Abidan and she'll still be angry."

"Bitterness don't suit you," Jaren agreed.

"Not just that. People keep looking for justice for the dumbest things. Honor."

"Vindication," Jaren offered. "They feel angry, they feel bad, and they go looking for justification rather than reform."

"Maybe I'll be a different person one day," she sighed. "But that just don't make sense. Can't keep living in the past, you know? You'll miss out on the present."

"Will you be able to do it?" Veera asked. "Kill a person?"

Azra casually ducked under the beam from a tripmine grenade. "I've done it before."

"Really?" Veera asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Besides these Fallen? The Cabal?" Azra asked. "They can be cruel, horrible things. But they still think and want. I've got no delusions that their lives aren't worth anything." That's why it was so important to keep feelings out of this. If she began hating the Fallen, if she relished their deaths, wasn't that cruelty? What would she become if she sought out death instead of accepting it as a necessary evil?

"Killing aliens is one thing," Veera said. "It is easy… and I will admit, too easy, at times, to not see anything familiar in them. But a Human? Can you look a man in the face as you end his life?"

"The world as it is now… it's a kinder place than the world was ninety years ago," Azra explained. "I've done some Hunting." She paused a second to disable some trapdoor mechanism, welding the trigger in place with a flash of Solar Light. "Bounties like that aren't something put up lightly."

"It sounds like you have some interesting stories." Veera seemed a little apprehensive about hearing said stories.

"I don't really like telling them," Azra sighed. But still, she continued. "It was only a handful of times. Jaren Ward would call me up." Veera had never met Jaren Ward; he'd died before she was Raised. "He was from the Dark Ages- real tough fellow. But good. Could always trust him to have his shit straight."

"And you?" Veera said.

Azra adjusted the strap of her rifle. "I questioned it every step of the way. But the day you stop questioning it is the day you've lost."

"Are you questioning this?" Veera certainly was, from the trepidation in her voice. Or maybe she was just worried for Azra's sake.

The Hunter sighed. "I have. But I know the answers."

"And the answers?"

"Uldren is delusional," Azra said. "He's slaughtered his own subjects. He's murdered people. Even if he's incapacitated, or harmless, he's a danger to Reef society just by the blood in his veins. If he's willing to try to kill Petra? To kill his people, the ones that he was supposedly dedicated to? He'll do anything. That's dangerous." The Prison of Elders hadn't been able to hold him. They didn't really have many other options.

"Even if he begs and pleads," Veera said hesitantly. "Even if he asks for forgiveness?"

"I don't expect you to shoot him," Azra said. "I don't even expect you to be okay with me shooting him. But he put us on this path. I'm finishing it."

The Mechanist - June 16, 2960

It was a sunny day on the Tangled Shore. A rarity, Azra had explained. The Shore had an irregular, tumbling sort of rotation, and the Sun was often blocked by other asteroids or shone at very shallow angles, giving the appearance of perpetual twilight. After so many days of subdued lighting, the noonday brilliance seemed very odd. It reminded Veera a bit of the Moon; with little atmosphere to diffract the sun, any shadows cast were sharp and dark. She Shore's rock wasn't as reflective as Luna's regolith, but any metal not encrusted with tarnish shone bright enough to leave spots in Veera's eyes.

A sunny day meant subdued activity on the Shore. Most combatants would be holed up in their dens. The remnants of the Red Legion did not care about the angle of the sun, but the Fallen had an aversion to bright light and the Scorn seemed to have inherited their weakness.

Veera would take any advantage gladly. The quarry they were after was far more than another name on the list. The Machinist was the second-in-command for the whole Scorn operation. The City Archives spoke of her vast hoard of weapons and technology.

Azra seemed oddly… not tense as they suited up. She must have known something Veera didn't (or she was really, really worried and over-compensating by playing it cool where the Spider could see her).

Veera's first guess turned out to be correct. The Arcstrider finally opened up once they were alone. "We have some help on this one," Azra explained. "But you can't breathe a word of this to Spider. Not a breath, do you understand?"

Veera didn't see who could be so unsavory as to put off a notorious crime lord. Spider already dealt with all manner of smugglers, brigands, and murderers. "Who is this mysterious help?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"He's meeting us there," was all Azra said.

A familiar face waited for them at the rendezvous point. Veera recognized him immediately. The golden House-of-Kings cloak stuck out like a sore thumb against the dusty purple of the Shore. Even without it, she would have known him by the way he leaned against the wall. "Lord Shiro," she said, eyebrows raised in a bit of surprise. This was to be their forbidden ally?

"Not exactly acting in an Iron Lord capacity, here," Shiro demurred. He still performed a sarcastic bow. "Lady Veera."

"The way that Azra was talking, I assumed you to be some real piece of trouble," Veera commented. "Why all of this secrecy?"

Shiro chuckled, perhaps a bit darkly. "I'm somewhat of a Fallen boogeyman, these days," he said. "No doubt Spider thinks I have it out for him."

"Don't you?" Ghost asked.

Shiro shrugged nonchalantly. "He'd be dead a dozen times over if I did. But the Vanguard's real focus remains on established Fallen leadership and forces- him picking at the edges of City trade is annoying, but it's not much of a threat. Policy has been to let the Awoken deal with the Tangled Shore."

"But still, we'll need Spider's help in tracking down Fikrul and Uldren- we can't have him getting spooked and bailing now," Azra warned.

"My lips are sealed," Veera said.

Azra didn't realize how sorely she'd missed him until he was there. It was nice, having Veera around, but having Shiro at her back made her feel safe in a way very little else did these days. "I'm glad you could make it," Azra said quietly.

"What, and let you do all this alone?" Shiro said. His lighthearted tone wasn't incredibly convincing. He looked at her, and maybe she wasn't doing as good of a job keeping it together as she'd thought- his eyebrows drooped.

Still, when he hugged her, there was something solid there. "You're not doing this alone," he said in reassurance. "I'm here. Veera's here. You don't have to do this by yourself." Why did it sound so much like a promise?

He's not just talking about today, Spark whispered. And yes, there it all was: his fear making the Light shimmer like a migraine aura, the almost-desperate conviction. He was consoling himself as much as he was consoling Azra. This Vanguard business- he was promising that she wouldn't be left alone to do it.

Safely ensconced in Shiro's arms, Aara allowed herself one singular moment of weakness. The wave of it surged up around her- she was scared. Not of Elykris, or Firkrul, or even of Uldren- but what came afterwards. What all this meant. And her heart was still cracked, bleeding raw grief and- and she hadn't even gotten to go to his funeral. It was so unfair. She'd never be allowed to be broken over this, not with the weight of duty on her shoulders. She couldn't just stop being functional when she had the entire Hunter class to look after. Mourning was off the table.

Azra killed the moment before it could turn into something more. They had a job to do, and not a lot of time to do it. She took a deep breath around the hollow pit in her gut and wiped the hints of forming tears from her eyes. (You're not alone, Shiro had promised, but she knew better at this point. For all his good intentions, Shiro couldn't stop this.)

Veera could immediately see why Spider might be afraid of Shiro-4. Besides being an expert on the Fallen, he was also an expert on their tech. The Machinist had co-opted weapons and computers from just about every faction Veera had ever heard of, but Shiro barely seemed fazed by the multitude of security systems. If he had good reason, he could be in and out of the Spider's sanctum before anyone noticed.

It was always nice to see how he and Azra worked together, too. Veera had spent more than a few missions with both of them in the past- patrols in the Plaguelands with Shiro, and of course Fireteam Dauntless's escapades with Azra. She thought she could say she knew both of them well. On the few occasions the three of them had all worked together, Veera was astounded at the sheer level of coordination the Hunters displayed. Half the time they didn't even need words, dividing tasks between themselves naturally and instinctively. Veera barely had to lift a finger on their way into the Machinist's base.

No, Veera's time to shine came when they finally cornered Elykris. The Baron had managed to smuggle most of her arms shipments out while the Guardians fought with her underlings, but there would be no such escape for her. They cornered her in a large, open-air garage of sorts. The noonday sun shone down harshly.

Veera couldn't help but grin. Most of the fighting in the past days had been in cramped quarters, in indoor bases and caves. Veera had the opportunity here to stretch her wings, so to speak. Elykris barely had time to register the Guardians' presence before Veera rocketed towards the sky and started raining Dawnblades down on her.

Perhaps Veera regretted it a little when the Machinist started shooting back missiles. Shiro and Azra were doing their best to distract her on the ground, attacking with fury whenever Elykris's attention turned away, but the Scorn Baron quickly learned she would shoot off a volley and turn her aggressions back on the Hunters while the missiles homed in on the Warlock's heat signature.

Veera was nimble in the air, but she wasn't that nimble. Forced to the ground, she planted herself and steeled her will. If the sky wasn't an option, she would kill Elykris with her feet in the dirt. The Scorn was massive- as large as a Kell and boasting some pretty destructive weapons (weren't heat-seeking missiles a bit overkill?)- but Veera had already managed to wound her with a few precise hits.

Unfortunately, the missiles didn't stop just because Veera was no longer airborne. The Machinist was really going all out- they were forcing her to use every weapon she had at her disposal. She set off rocket after rocket, cackling as they arced up into the sky. They seemed to pause for a moment, then came screeching down, still locked on Veera's signature.

She turned and ran, but not fast enough. Veera hadn't been expecting it. It was a volley of nine- Veera counted frantically in her head as they exploded behind her- one-two-three-four-five- but they were catching up- six-seven- and she could feel the shockwave, the heat, from number eight behind her- and there was that damned whistling, loud and growing closer-

Azra was there, suddenly, bowling her out of the way, and it happened so fast Veera almost didn't see it even though she was staring right at it. The missile came down, the Arc Staff made a sharp, forceful spin, and the missile was flung from its path and redirected sideways, screaming right at Elykris.

It hit. Elyrkis snarled and let loose another barrage in response. Veera hadn't stopped running, but now she slowed and turned, backpedaling away while trying to keep track of the situation. She could see the missiles weren't focused on her as they arced up through the sky- they were all zeroing in on the Hunter.

Veera wanted to call out a warning, but surely Azra knew. The Arcstrider didn't run. She settled her feet in a wider stance, squinting up at the sky. The Arc Staff was held two-handed, low and ready. Azra took a deep breath, standing firm.

She took half a step forward just as the missile's shriek reached a fever pitch. This time Veera didn't see it. Everything blurred together in one cacophony. There was a series of whirs and a wave of Arc energy. Every single missile was caught, one after the other, and thrown right back at the Machinist. Azra ended poised and ready, Staff held backhand along her arm, eyes glowing an electric blue. There was a raw intensity in her expression, one Veera had seen in the depths of the Hellmouth and Oryx's Dreadnaught.

For a second Veera understood the Hunters' issues with the Vangaurd position completely. How could you take that and restrict it from combat duty? How could you make it so that magic could never be worked? What a waste!

Veera snapped herself back to reality, but there was no need for more dodging. Between her earlier work with her Dawnblade and taking a barrage of missiles to the face, Elykris was in a bad way. Shiro-4 dealt the final blow, a calculated spray from his Sidearm.

Azra's Ghost keyed Petra Venj into their channel for an update. "The Machinist is down. Though she did manage to ship off a good deal of supplies-"

"Guardians," Petra interrupted urgently. "I know where Uldren is headed. It's time to end this."

The Fanatic - June 16, 2960

Azra led the way. After weeks on the Shore, running back and forth over the broken ground, she barely noticed the difficulty of jumping from rock to rock. Veera and Shiro lagged a moderate distance behind her, but she didn't dare slow down. Petra's intel said time was of the essence. The Scorn were already out in force, as were the Spider's associates.

It was easy to find the way, at least. The Watchtower was a landmark on the Shore, looming a gleaming white over the dark and dusty land. Petra said they needed to stop Uldren from entering- and if he'd already gotten in, to follow him and stop him.

Azra battered her way forward. Her two companions mopped up anything that slipped by her. It was a bit late for keeping Shiro's presence a secret now- though if things went the way they were supposed to, they'd have Firkul and Uldren by the time the sun set. After that, Spider could go fall in a hole for all Azra cared.

They fought all the way to the steps (Azra absentmindedly noted they weren't of the Shore's purple-gray asteroid rock, but of some glassy blue material- but there were other things screaming for her attention.) Dark Ether swirled over the ground like a fog machine at a concert.

"They're already here," Azra announced on the comms.

"I'm approaching by air," Petra reported. "Get in. Find them. Stop them, at any cost. I'll be right behind you."

A wrench in that plan: the door was guarded. The Dark Ether coalesced. Someday Azra would figure out exactly how the Scorn did their weird shapeshifting thing. For now, she'd seen enough to recognize what was happening. The blue wisps coiled up on themselves, lit from within, and then the Fanatic stepped out of the cloud. Though Azra couldn't see his eyes behind his helmet, it was obvious he was focused on her and nobody else.

It seemed he had only one thing on his mind. "You enjoyed killing them?" Fikrul growled. "You enjoyed putting them in the dirt, where you belong? Did it make you feel good?"

It hadn't. The last time they'd met, it had been Azra that was furious. Fikrul had mocked her. Now he spat at her in grief, and she… well, she didn't feel much of anything.

"Yaviks. Pirrha. Reksis Vahn. Hiraks. Kaniks. Arakes. Elykris," Fikrul listed, the rage making his voice warble. He brandished his staff in a threat as Shiro and Veera finally caught up behind her. "Tell me that killing my friends made you feel good. Tell me!"

Azra was struck by the insane irony of it- how many of them had thrown Cayde's death back in her face? Taunted her, prodded at her wounds and then laughed? "You killed Cayde first," Azra said. Her voice sounded stiff and passionless compared to Fikrul's rumbling anger. "You shot his Ghost and left him to die. You started a murdering spree. Did you really think there wouldn't be consequences?"

Fikrul let out a wordless shriek and pointed his staff. The Dark Ether around Azra's feet sputtered, ionizing the air and singing her through her armor. She just stepped aside. She wasn't desperate anymore. Her companions behind her readied their weapons. "I thought I'd enjoy this. I thought at least it would be satisfying… but you're all so petty."

"Azra, we don't have time for this," Petra warned. "If Fikrul is here, then Uldren is already inside the Watchtower. We can't let him get what he wants."

Azra narrowed her eyes. The Fanatic in all of his raging grief wasn't so much of a threat, but he was a big boy. Trying to hunt down Uldren while Fikrul hunted after her wasn't going to end well.

"We got this," Shiro said.

Azra wanted to protest, but Veera was there, too, shaking her head. "Be pragmatic," she said. "You are only hunting the Barons to get to Uldren."

"Let us handle this one. It's just another Archon Priest," Shiro added.

Azra couldn't express in words how much she loved them both. They were really only here for her sake, weren't they? They didn't hesitate for pride or for their own shot at vengeance.

"Go," Veera said. "We will follow once we are done here."

So Azra turned herself invisible and bolted for the door.

The inside of the Watchtower was broken. Azra could see where it once stood shining and proud, but neglect had let its gardens grow over and the combat had taken chunks out of the walls.

Azra came to a massive set of doors. According to Spark's scan they weren't locked, so she put her shoulder to one and heaved.

"I'm heading in as soon as there's an opening," Petra said on the comms. "Keep moving. I'll get to you as fast as I can."

The door swung open with a rumbling noise. Azra slipped through the gap.

"Azra…" Petra said. "Nobody has stood where you are since the Queen closed these doors. Yours are the first outsider eyes to ever see this place."

Besides the Scorn, Azra wanted to point out. But even then… something in the architecture here was familiar. She'd seen these columns before, she'd swear it. Normally Azra would treasure being the first person to see something. Yet the dim recognition nagged at her. Where…?

If there had been a portal, she didn't see it. She was in reality one second, checking the sightline from around a corner, then she swung out of cover and found the corridor she'd just scoped was now the Ascendant Plane.

Was that why this was familiar? Had she seen this architecture before, wandering over from somewhere else? Lighting flashed in the distant sky. Voices echoed over the screams outside.

"OPEN THE DOOR," a female demanded. Azra had never heard that tone out of Mara Sov's throat.

"I can't," Uldren pleaded back.

"I guess… we just go forward?" Spark asked. "This seems rooted to realspace, like the Dreadnaught."

Azra did not like the implications of that. "This is a throne world, then?" she muttered. "Whose?" It was even more wrecked than the Watchtower was. Columns and trellises floated in the shifting gravity.

But Spark didn't have any answers, and the comms network couldn't pierce through dimensions. "Forward it is," Azra said.

TYPE: LIVE COMBAT FEED

PARTIES: Three [3]. One [1] Awoken-type, class Queen Regent, designate Petra Venj [pv]; One [1] Guardian-type, class Hunter, designate Azra Jax [aj]; One [1] Ghost-type, designate Spark [s]

ASSOCIATIONS: Ascendant Plane; Awoken; Dreaming City [Reef Space]; Eido, Sjur; Jax, Azra; Scorn; Sov, Mara; Sov, Uldren; Taken; Venj, Petra

/AUDIO UNAVAILABLE/

/TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS…/

[pv:01]: There you are. I was beginning to get worried.

[aj:01]: The line between dimensional planes is… thin here.

[pv:01]: Keep going. I'm catching up.

[s:01]: …What is this place? It's more than just a watchtower, isn't it?

[aj:02]: What am I walking into, here?

[pv:02]: All will be revealed in time.

[s:02]: Well, we've found one of your communications devices... it's broadcasting to the Ascendant Plane. If I hack in, I should be able to maintain contact if we accidentally, uh, travel between Planes again.

[pv:03]: Very well.

[silence]

[aj:03]: … Can you hear them?

[pv:04]: Who?

[aj:04]: Uldren and Mara. They're fighting.

[pv:05]: Queen Mara?

[aj:05]: It doesn't really sound like her. But it does? Like, it's her voice, but someone else is talking.

[s:03]: It doesn't sound pleasant, whatever's happening down there.

[pv:06]: I don't know what's going on, Guardian, but we need to get to Uldren as soon as possible.

[silence]

[s:04]: I'm sorry, but this stone, this crystal… it isn't like anything I've ever seen before. It's not in the City's Geologic database.

[pv:07]: It wouldn't be. You'll see.

[aj:06]: Alright, Petra, I'll say it. This all is creepy familiar to me.

[pv:08]: What do you mean? You can't have been here before.

[aj:07]: I wouldn't have, either. Not on purpose. I made a pact with Sjur Eido, back in the day, that I'd keep my nose out of Awoken Territory. I would remember if I'd had to break that.

[aj:08]: And yet this is… familiar. That's the best word I have for it.

Azra sprinted into the room full tilt- it had to be here. Petra had said this was the end of the line.

Azra's first sweep of the space didn't reveal Prince Uldren. It did reveal a mass of Taken, some sort of portal throwing out strange patterns in the Light, and-

"What the hell is that?" Azra asked. On first glance, her brain said Servitor- what with the round shape and floating and the one purple eye, but it was organic. It had tentacles.

"I don't see Uldren," Spark reported to Petra.

"What the hell is that?" Azra repeated. The thing gurgled at her. From its maw, Azra heard something else.

"Oh shit it ate him," Azra said.

"WHAT?" Petra shrieked.

"There is a giant taken tentacle servitor ball thing and Uldren is inside it," Azra clarified. The Taken were already amassing to kill her.

We kill it, Spark suggested. If it kills Uldren, too, so be it. But this is what Petra wanted to stop.

Azra readied her gun.

Petra stayed just outside of the door. The fight raging inside the room was a deadly one. Petra had seen this Hunter in action before, against Skolas and the Wolves, and capturing the Scorn Barons the first time with Cayde-6, but this… this was on another level.

Petra wished she could offer more backup than just holding the door. But although Shiro-4 and Veera had locked down the entrance to the Watchtower, the Scorn had already scattered inside its halls. They came rushing towards the sound of violence, and Petra was very occupied just keeping them from breaching the sanctum.

The Hunter… there had always been something odd about Azra Jax. Petra had never bothered to try and figure her out. She'd seemed to be a private person, uncomfortable and stiff and only warming up when Cayde-6 was present. Petra wondered now if she hadn't made a mistake in letting the Hunter slip beneath her radar.

Azra spun her electric rod and sent ball lightning skittering across the room. It struck the floating Taken beast square in its maw. There was a crack like stone breaking, and reality seemed to flicker in front of Petra's eye. When things sorted back into sense, the Hunter was gone. Petra pinged her comms device and received a ping back from the Hunter's Ghost.

A few moments later, space hiccupped and the Hunter leapt back into reality. It was so casual, the way she'd done it. Techeuns could spend decades, centuries training to traverse the Ascendant Plane. They required some of the most advanced technology the Awoken had invented, and even then the journey was perilous and difficult. And yet the Hunter just tripped through the dimensions like flimsy curtains. She'd sounded sheepish earlier on the feed, apologizing for the loss of contact- just who was she, really, to be so casual about this? What had she seen?

By the end of the fight, Azra had determined that the monster really was a sort of Taken-thing. A real creature left a body when you killed it. When she dealt this one's final blow, it collapsed in on itself, then winked out of existence, just like any other Taken.

The contents of its stomach did not go with it. Uldren dropped ten feet straight down, hit the ground with a thud, and lay still.

Still in exhaustion and defeat, not in death. "He's still alive," Azra clarified for the sake of Petra at the door. Uldren's holster was empty. Azra had thought she'd seen a flash of white in the corner when she'd been fighting- true enough, as she walked over, there it was.

Uldren had let the Ace of Spades fall into disrepair. It was scratched and grimy. Azra noted with dissatisfaction how sticky the release was. The chamber itself caught on some burr of bent metal and had to be yanked open. Cayde used to flick it out with just a twitch of his wrist, whip-quick. He'd weep to see the state his gun was in now.

It would still fire, though. Azra returned to the center of the room as Petra approached.

Uldren Sov had struggled into a sitting position. Azra pointed the Ace at his head before he got any funny ideas about standing up.

The Awoken Prince just wheezed and chuckled grimly. "Congratulations," he rasped, eying Azra with a look of exhausted wariness. "You have my undivided attention."

The look faded into one of desperation, of anger. "Now where's my sister?"

"She's not here, Uldren," Petra said. She came up beside Azra and pointed her own gun at the Prince. "If she was, this would be a whole lot easier."

"So, this is to be a reckoning," Uldren mused.

Azra must have hesitated. Petra's grip on her gun tightened. "I don't know what you're thinking," she said. "But I know what Cayde-6 would do if he were here."

That earned another derisive chuckle from Uldren. "Yes, what would the esteemed Cayde-6 do? You have his gun. Seems like you get the last word."

Azra's anger had burnt out. If she was being honest with herself, It had started dying days ago. She should be furious, standing here and looking Cayde's murderer in the eye. But she was just cold. "You're lucky I'm not him," she said. "I'm not going to make this hurt."

Azra's finger tightened on the trigger. She froze for just a heartbeat- a heartbeat more of life, of the warm burn of his Light on her senses, of him existing-

One more heartbeat of his pained wheezing. Of screeching servos. One more heartbeat of suffering.

Azra pulled the trigger. One shot, then two echoed through the airlock. It was neat, professional.

And then Cayde-6 was no more.

"Everything I did, I did for her," Uldren spat. He stared up at Azra defiantly, but he was beaten.

"Funny thing, that," Azra said. "You know, if Cayde had asked me to start murdering people, I'd have told him to go pound sand."

"Uldren is dangerous," Petra warned. "Look at what he's done."

Azra sighed. "I know." Her sights had never wavered from Uldren's form, but now she gripped the gun with more confidence. "You're dead, Uldren," she said to the Prince. "That's your price. Make peace with it."

"The line between Light and Dark is so very thin," Uldren murmured. His eyes closed.

There was no point in dragging this out any longer. Azra pulled the trigger twice- professional, neat. Then she flicked the safety back on the Ace, slid it into a holster on her belt, and walked away.

"That's it," Spark said. "It's done." It's done. Azra had bartered fourteen days from the Vanguard. She'd used eleven of them in this hunt. That left her three days to get her affairs in order before… before. Azra still didn't know how she was going to deal with the after.

Petra had dragged Uldren's corpse to the side and covered it in a white sheet. No doubt there would be a burial later. Now the Queen Regent approached Azra with an unidentifiable expression on her face.

"It's over," Azra said. It still didn't seem quite real to her.

"Thank you," Petra said. "I know you did this for Cayde, but… you saved a lot of Awoken lives."

Azra didn't answer at first. She supposed she should go, collect Veera and Shiro and start sorting out her supplies. Say a farewell to Spider if he hadn't crawled into some hidey-hole. Make arrangements.

Instead, she looked back towards the portal. She'd fought so hard to keep Uldren from it. It obviously led somewhere- the Watchtower was more of a gatehouse than a lookout post. That portal led somewhere important.

And she'd never see where. She'd go back to the City and take up the Vanguard spot… and she normally considered herself somewhat of an optimist, but she'd seen four Hunter Vanguards pass in her lifetime. She'd heard stories of the rest. It's not like she could expect to make it out alive. She'd never get the chance to go poking around weird portals ever again.

It was really that thought that killed her inside. She was done. It was over.

"Could… I see it?" Azra asked. "Just once?" Just one more new place. One more taste of freedom.

"Normally, the Dreaming City is forbidden to outsiders," Petra said. Her eye briefly lit on the gate, but then it shifted back to Azra and stayed there. "But… we owe you a lot more than this."

"You are mere steps away from our salvation," Not-Mara insists. "Only Light and Dark, together, can unlock my way back into your world."

Taken energy wisps off of Uldren like steam on a winter night. You raise your hand, watching Light shimmer under your skin.

The portal opens for the two of you like the sliding glass of a balcony door. The false voice of Mara Sov had demanded that you free her. You understood the subtle command beneath the overtones said for Prince Uldren.

The portal is open and there is time enough to do what's needed before Petra Venj catches up. Obediently, you step through.

Azra found herself standing on a rock formation. Below, an opaque and iridescent mist obscured the ground. Across the way she could make out a large structure, towering stark bone-white and midnight-blue. There was a path among the rocks, edged by grass and shimmering purple bushes.

It was almost like the Black Garden, with the sunlight diffracting a strange shade. It washed out the green of the plants, but the blues shone vibrantly. The air was sweet and clean, so unlike the artificial atmosphere of the Reef. It carried the scent of water and growing things… and the slightest touch of Dark Ether. "Some Scorn made it in," Azra warned over the comms.

"Do you see them?" Petra asked, alarmed.

"No," Azra said. "But I can tell."

The place was visibly empty. Azra supposed it had been evacuated. There was no birdsong, but the rush of a waterfall sounded nearby. Without wind, it was oddly quiet. A bell chimed somewhere in the distance.

She would have liked it here, she thought. The gardens looked nice, hedged by rough natural stone. She could see herself taking a nap on the Sun-warmed rock or hunting for caves in the swirling mist below. She could climb the cliffs by the waterfall and see where the river went.

It was just too late. "That's it, then," Azra murmured, turning her face up to the faint warmth of the Sun. What would this place look like at night? Were there lanterns to light the paths? Did the glittering purple bushes glow in the twilight?

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. She could taste the salt of them. "It's over."