Merlin returned to the Sunken Isles, just outside Firebase Hades, and rode down the tunnel to the thin hole in the wall that lead to the Volundr Forge. He met no Cabal resistance but saw they were still active in the chamber beyond the filter doors. The same guard stood blocking the entry way and waved to Merlin as he approached.
"Your back! Do you have the…"
"Ghost? I do," Merlin said with confidence, pulling the lifeless shell from his inventory. He presented it to the guard, who inspected it with stern eyes. "Shot it and the Hunter when I found them camping in some corner of Nessus."
"You shot this?" the guard asked. "One shot, and you got it? I don't see any other impacts besides this one through the core."
"One shot," Merlin affirmed.
"How'd you know where to hit?"
"My Ghost."
"And just where is your Ghost?"
"As if I'll bring her out here of all places," the Guardian said with a chuckle. "Look, I want to join the Disciples of the Sword, but I assume at least some of you have killed Ghosts. Why would I put myself at risk like that?"
"We could just kill you and wait for your Ghost to show up and kill her too," the guard suggested.
"And miss out on an accomplished Guardian killer? Your cause would definitely benefit from me joining." The Awoken man scanned the Exo before tossing the dead Ghost back to him. He flicked his head, gesturing to follow him through the crack. Merlin stuck close behind the guard as they descended the narrow ramp to the bridge and leaped across the gap to meet the others running about the active forge. The Guardian was brought past a handful of cult members to meet another Exo; a Titan who has clearly lost his way. The segments of his body the heavy armour didn't cover were yellow with a silver trim.
"This is the lieutenant," the guard said to Merlin. "He takes care of most of the business while the Sorrow Smith is busy."
"Off with you, whelp," the Titan ordered. The Awoken guard saluted briefly then walked hurriedly back to his post. "Well? Who're you?"
"Merlin; Warlock."
"Obviously. You're the only ones who like to float about in your dresses."
"It's a robe, but I can see how the two could be confused." Merlin presented the Ghost to the lieutenant, who took it and checked the damage. "Your doorman said I could join the Disciples of the Sword if I came back with this, as proof of killing one of those Traveller worshipers."
"Don't get smart with me. Where'd you find this?"
"I killed it myself," Merlin answered with an inflection suggesting he was questioning the Titan's assumptions.
"See this goop?" he asked, wiping up some of the pale blue residue from the wound. He allowed a drop to fall onto his tongue before whipping the rest away and throwing the Ghost at Merlin. "That only shows up after one of our Necrochasms kills something. You found this dead already. I dunno where you got it, but you seem determined to join us; bring me a dozen more – without the goop – and I'll consider your application. Now piss off before I fill you with goop."
"Oooooh…" Sibyl said over the comms system between her and Merlin. "He'll fill you with goop!"
Merlin bowed his head just enough to hide his smirk from the Titan. "I'll go get more then," he said. The impatient Titan lunged at the Warlock and hoisted him into the air. He threw the smaller green Exo back toward the bridge. His sudden shift in velocity caught him off guard causing him to land hard and roll toward the exit. He quickly brushed himself off and stared at the Titan.
"I said piss off," the lieutenant yelled, grabbing the attention of those around them, including some already brandishing weapons fuelled by Darkness. Nought could be heard but the hum of the forge and the Exo's voice echoing about the space. "Not 'give me your best curtsey.' Don't come back without those Ghosts. As a dress-wearer, you're an insult to Segoth's memory."
Merlin sheepishly crossed the bridge and walked back up the winding ramp. The sounds of active work continued behind him as he made it to the exit. He reached through the gap and tapped the guard on the back who recoiled in surprise.
"Sorry about that," the Warlock said, slipping through the rock.
"Your lucky I didn't have my malfeasance out, or you would've been fried. Did the lieutenant accept you then?"
"He wants more Ghosts; a dozen total. He thinks I just found the first one," Merlin answered.
"Well, it's a possibility, to be fair. We'll be here for a couple of days but I haven't been told where we're off to next," the guard said. "So you'd do well to be swift."
The Warlock mounted his sparrow and zoomed off the loading platform. As the mouth of the tunnel drew close, Sibyl called for the jumpship to descend. "We can't go back to Spider for those. It's bad enough we owe him for one," she warned him.
"I agree. But how else are we going to eleven more Ghosts! Could there be another way we can get in?" Merlin said, thinking aloud.
"Maybe we cou-" Sibyl began but was cut off.
"Shh! I'm thinking. It was a rhetorical question," the Exo snapped. He piped up again a moment later with a hint of regret in his voice. "My apologies. It's just hard to think straight with another voice in my head… What if we made our own Weapon of Sorrow? That might impress the 'Sorrow Smith' that Awoken guy mentioned."
"Do exactly that which has the Praxic Order chomping at the bit to take out the Disciples?" the Ghost scoffed. "To be honest, I can't tell whether that's near genius or the most foolish thought you've had."
"It's likely that, or sign myself away as Spider's play-thing."
"What do you even know about forging a Weapon of Sorrow anyway?" Merlin shrugged at the question.
"We can research that. Does the Tower have a library or something?"
"The Archives." Sibyl took a breath between sentences to transmat Merlin aboard their jumpship. "Libraries haven't been a thing for centuries and books themselves are a rarity. All the knowledge we've collated since The Collapse has been recorded digitally."
"Then let's go find out what we can!"
Upon returning to the Tower, they left their ship in the hanger and made their way across to the Bazaar. Situated opposite from the lounge that New Monarchy used to frequent, before the city's Factions fled Earth, there was a set of tall double doors. A sigil etched across the doors featured each of the Guardian classes, Hunter, Titan, and Warlock.
They traversed the corridor behind the doors, noting the off-shoots that led to reserve armouries, ration storage, ending with the entrance to the Archives. There were three holoprojectors on either side of the long ornate rug that ran the length of the room. Sibyl activated the machinery for her Guardian, and showed him how he could search for information.
"Malfeasance; that's a Weapon of Sorrow?" Merlin said in surprise after reading through many articles on the Hive, the Sword Logic, and coming to their heinous weaponry. "The forge guard said he had one. And 'Necrochasm'! Their lieutenant suggested they had many of those. That must be the Weapon of Sorrow they're manufacturing at scale."
"It's possible," Sibyl said. "Pull up an image of one and see if you recognise it." They looked closely at the chitinous bullpup rifle. It's loosely triangular form ended in long, bayonet-esque protrusions from each side. The core radiated the signature luminous green fog of Hive magic.
"It's very close, but theirs did not have this mist coming out from it. Maybe this is what the cultists' rifles will become?"
"That must be why they're using the forges, but where are they getting the foundation?"
"Looks like from the 'Dreadnaught'?" Merlin said, reading further on the Necrochasm entry. "Some Hive stronghold?"
"That was Oryx, the Taken King's Throne World; a pocket dimension the powerful Hive can create through the Sword Logic."
"How do people get there? Surely that's something only he would be able to access."
"It was turned inside out and it took the shape of their fleet's flagship," Sibyl explained. "I doubt it wise for us to visit and get started on our own Necrochasm. Any other ideas?"
Merlin continued his searching. He read about the tension between the Vanguard and Drifter, that many Guardians sided with the Lightbearer in defiance of the Vanguard and were rewarded with a Maleficence of their own. The material he primarily focused however, were on records of the Hive and Hive gods; Oryx, Savathûn, and Xivu Arath. He delved deeply into each and found that a part of Oryx's body had been used in crafting the Touch of Malice. Another Weapon of Sorrow, as it turned out.
Through the Taken King, Merlin learned about his children; Crota, the twin Wizards Ir Anûk and Ir Halak, and to his utmost disappointment, Nokris. All of whom have been slain at the hands of Guardians.
"Could any of their bodies still be around?" the Warlock asked once he turned to face Sibyl. "Maybe we could make our own kind of Touch of Malice."
"Crota and his sisters were destroyed on the Moon and the Dreadnaught respectively. Your best bet would be Nokris, but I'm fairly certain nothing remains of him either. Young Wolf isn't known for leaving much behind."
"Young Wolf has killed gods?"
"They've quite the impressive track record, if I'm honest."
"Jealous of their Ghost?" Merlin joked.
"No!" Sibyl protested anxiously. "No, not at all. That guy has his work cut out for him. I feel blessed to be your Ghost."
"So, where did Young Wolf kill Nokris? And do you think we should see anyone before going there?"
"If you finished reading on Nokris before asking questions, you'd see he was on Mars toward the northern pole. I would suggest we see Drifter, but think Eris Morn is a better option – she had a hand in making the Touch of Malice. We'll find her on the Moon." Merlin nodded twice and switched off the holoprojector.
"Let's go pay her a visit then. Hopefully she'll be happy to help another Guardian craft questionable guns."
As they approached the grey satellite, a menacing red fortress peaked over the horizon. Merlin noticed several skirmishes between the Hive and Fallen outside the jumpship window. Sibyl transmat her Guardian onto the landing platform nearby where Eris studied the Cryptoglyph. Merlin was initially shocked at Eris's eyes as she turned to address them. In place of her own were three Hive eyes; a painful reminder of her fireteam's failure in the Hellmouth. Once he had regained his composure, he loosely explained their quest to the ex-Hunter.
"I am inclined to aide in the pursuit of Hive knowledge. The Touch of Malice was built through wielding the Sword Logic and tearing through the Hive aboard the Dreadnaught. How do you plan to do the same?" Eris asked, her slow cadence unnerving the Newlight.
"Nokris," he answered.
"The disgraced heretic! Interesting…"
"He's the only one of Oryx's spawn who we think may be available to us," Merlin added.
"It's possible. If fortune is on our side, his corpse will be deep beneath the frozen Martian surface of Hellas Basin." The Exo's eyes widened at the connection to his dream the night before, capturing Eris's attention. "What is it?"
"Nothing," he said, believing it is just coincidence. "I just had a dream of flying over ice and red sands."
"A vision from the Traveller!" she exclaimed excitedly.
"You think so?" Merlin asked, taking a step back and tilting his head.
"Absolutely. You mustn't squander this opportunity. The Traveller is guiding you down a path that preserves itself, so these Disciples of the Sword must pose a large enough problem to the Guardians, and by proxy the Traveller. There could not be a more obvious sign, Warlock."
"What do we need then? We came to you because you had experience with this through Touch of Malice." Eris stepped away from the Exo and stared intensely at the Cryptoglyph as it twisted and spun, suspended in the air above the Hive alter.
"For this to work, we must enact heresy ourselves. Everything you require is there, and there alone. Fragments of the frozen Hive, exposed to each aspect of Light; your Ghost can identify those. A weapon built there, into which you will imbue malintent through Hive ritual magic. If Young Wolf's report was correct, a chip from each of the crystals Nokris used in his final moments. And finally, if possible, any remains of the necromancer you may find. Bring these to me, and we shall have you Weapon of Sorrow."