Chapter 4: Riksis, Devil Archon

It was easy to lose track of time so deep underground, but Whisper had an unfair advantage—a built in chronometer, along with a compass. Thanks to that, she knew she had entered the bunker-like subterranean complex six hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty-four seconds ago.

She'd learned a lot about the Fallen down there in the dark. The House of Devils were the primary residents, with their distinctive red cloaks marked with a white sigil that looked something like a downward pointing shock blade. They'd picked up a trace emanation from the warp drive, which meant the House of Devils had ripped it off Ellis' ship and carried it down to the depths of the Cosmodrome to be repurposed. The House of Kings trying to steal away the ship from the House of Devils reinforced just how tenuous the relationship between Fallen houses was.

For better or for worse, the trace of the NLS drive led her right into the heart of a Fallen outpost. Whisper took in the scene through the grated panel of a maintenance hatchway. To the right were sleeping quarters, where rows of dregs lay tightly packed in slumber. The vandals had slightly more space, and the captains small red tents. What most interested her, however, was a huge captain that all the other captains bowed to when he passed.

I think that's the Archon, Riksis, whispered her ghost, and Whisper's eyes narrowed. As far as we know, they never replaced their Kell when he was killed years ago, so this could be the leader of the entire House of Devils.

The Archon towered over the other captains, and his huge form was made even more intimidating by large, bulky armor. Whisper watched him closely as he stood before Fallen and raised two of his arms before a large etched mural of what looked to be a huge servitor of some sort. They cried out in unison in what seemed to be a religious ceremony.

She quietly slipped the hatch cover open and dropped to the floor, landing softly. A moment passed, then two, and nobody seemed to have noticed her, so she set out, easing around the edges of what had once been a large supply room. Fortunately, large red banners of the House of Devils hung from most walls and the ceiling, dampening sound and casting long shadows.

A few moments later and she made it to a small cordoned-off area. There, the warp drive! She slipped through the doorway and the ghost emerged, spinning excitedly as it scanned the engine. Excellent, it's in good shape. I can transmat—

"Shh!" she hissed.

What?

A roar from the doorway was interrupted by the thunder of a powerful shrapnel launcher. Whisper grunted at the impact of shards of half-molten metal that grazed her arm and returned fire with her auto rifle, sending a hail of bullets into the Archon's heavy armor. Something flashed brightly out of the corner of her eye, and her ghost was back with her once more.

Whisper threw herself to the side as the Archon fired again, slamming her into the wall of the confined space, but out of the line of fire from the cannon which shredded the carefully assorted bits of technology laid out on tables.

The auto rifle clicked empty and the Archon rushed her. She scrambled further to the right, ducking low beneath the Archon's outstretched arms. She made it one step before the smaller set of arms closed on her and yanked her back, throwing her against the wall and pinning her with a roar. She dropped the rifle and grasped the knife on her hip and jammed it into the Archon's neck.

The Fallen roared in pain but its grip didn't weaken. It slammed her into the wall once more, disorienting her, and with its other two arms mashed the shrapnel launcher into her stomach and pulled the trigger.

…

She lay on a bed with white sheets, lay heavily, like the dead. To her left stood a man in a white coat clutching a digital pad tightly in both hands. "I'm sorry, but the damage is permanent. There's nothing else we can do."

…

Light flashed and she stood once more, auto rifle in hand. The Archon whirled with another angry roar. More Fallen were coming now, dregs chattering excitedly and vandals drawing shock blades.

She jumped back into action, firing across the dregs and dropping the first several while she backed away from the Archon and that cannon. As she fought, gunning down dregs, ducking under a vandal's blade and replying in kind, something was building up inside her, an energy, a power ready to overflow. She latched onto it, yanking it back and releasing, and a dark ball of energy leapt from her hand towards the Archon, where it latched on and exploded in a torrent purple Light. The impact slammed the Archon back against the wall where she'd been killed, giving her time to reload her weapon and send the dregs scattering for cover. Unfortunately, the Archon was already charging back her way.

She flipped the auto rifle to her back where the ghost transmatted it away and plucked the newly materialized fusion rifle from nothingness and lined up a shot on the Archon's head.

Burning light sizzled as the weapon charged for a second then burst out in a lightning storm of destruction evaporating armor, skin, and bone alike. The Archon was still struggling, so she hit the trigger again, then again. Finally, the Fallen collapsed and a cry of fear and despair arose from the surrounding aliens. Whisper glanced at them and they scattered into the dark.

Whisper stood there for long moments trying to figure out how she felt. There was relief that she'd survived. Grim satisfaction that she'd won. But that was it, and it felt… less, somehow, than it should. There was no rush of adrenaline in combat, no post-combat shakes as the chemicals flushed through her system. Instead, it was all very… cold.

Frustrated, she started to move again, checking that the Fallen weren't going to regroup and make another run at her. The ghost took this as permission to pop back out and have a look around. Wow, you just killed the Archon! That is Riksis, I knew it! That could cripple their whole house! And on top of that, we got a warp drive!

Whisper sighed which, as she didn't need to breathe, was a purely communicative gesture. "I've thought of a name for you. You were making so much noise you drew Riksis to us, I'm tempted to call you Blabbermouth."

The ghost rotated its outer shell in agitation. I did not! And besides, I knew you could handle it. And that's a terrible name!

"Did you? That first shot wasn't at me, you know. It looks like the Archon almost got you. A chunk of your shell is missing."

The ghost stopped posturing immediately and spun in the air trying to get a look at itself. We should get out of here and get that fixed. Come on, I've had enough of Fallen tunnels for today.

"Hold on, I want to take a look around first and see what we can learn."

They'd made a mess of the area in the firefight. Tents crushed, tech scattered, bullet-holes and energy burns everywhere. Still, there must be some reason they had set up a base here. After a few minutes she found what looked like an ancient computer terminal.

The ghost perked up. These computers have a map of the entire area. Better yet, it has a map of Fallen patrols. Strange… they are concentrated around this one area here. I wonder why?

Curious, but not something to dwell on while remaining here. She was about to call the ghost over to head out when she paused and took another look at the big mural. There were a handful of bullet holes up the side now, but it was largely intact. She wished she had something to record it, and it dawned on her that everything she saw was recorded—her memory was a computer, after all. She considered the mural again. Something about that shape looked familiar. "Is that… the Traveler?"

I don't know, but can we leave now? Please?

Whisper shrugged and switched back to the auto rifle. It was a long walk back to the surface, but at least it seemed the Fallen had had enough for the moment, so hopefully getting out would be easier than getting in.

The Fallen didn't bother her on the long trek back to the surface, but it was far from boring—through every tunnel and hallway she could hear the keening cry of Fallen mourning the passing of their Archon. She felt… guilty wasn't quite right, as she hadn't had a lot of choice, but… a feeling of melancholy filled her all the same. She was the one that had caused this pain and despair for the Fallen, however much they might have deserved it. Both she and the ghost were glad when they finally emerged once again onto the snow-draped landscape.

…

"So," said Whisper as they sat in the cover of a bombed out building with a clear view near the meeting point with Ginger. "If you don't like Blabbermouth, what would you like to be called?"

The ghost rotated in the air. I don't know, but please pick something else.

Whisper looked out over the snow. "How about I just call you what you are? Ghost?"

The ball of machinery and Light bobbed in the air. Ghost. You know, I've been called that for a long time. That works.

Her visor blinked and Whisper looked out to see Ginger trudging through the snow.

…

Once more back in the Tower Ginger went off to find her friends and share her experiences while Whisper set out looking for Cayde-6, her erstwhile superior, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, she found a message waiting for her. The sender's icon that popped up on her internal HUD read "Commander Zavala." She opened it instinctively, not entirely sure how.

Congratulations on your achievement, guardian. Taking down an Archon is no easy task. With the master of the Fallen servitors gone, the House of Devils will scramble to protect their Prime Servitor. And securing an NLS Drive will let you join the fight beyond Earth. I would have liked to meet you in person, but other obligations prevent that at this time. Instead, I have arranged for a short meeting for you with the Speaker. Mind the Speaker's wise words. I believe he speaks for the Traveler.

Coordinates and a time, just a few minutes away, were attached.

She and Ghost looked at each other. "Word sure travels fast in the City. I didn't expect our report to make waves like this." Ghost just bounced in excitement. She sighed and started walking.

A handful of minutes later she was in a separate room of the Tower she hadn't seen before. The room itself was tidy and well-kept, with simple but comfortable furniture organized around a large desk in the center of the room. Behind the desk appeared to be a human male, though it was difficult to tell—every inch of his skin was covered in long ceremonial robes, including a full slate-gray mask disguising any features.

"Welcome, guardian," he spoke gravely, rising from his desk and gesturing to two nearby chairs. "Please, take a seat." He waited for her to sit, then took his own, easing himself down more comfortably. "Ah, now then, it's always a pleasure to meet a new guardian, though I am afraid that our meeting will be brief. Congratulations on locating a warp drive, and even taking down Riksis in the process. The Fallen was a scourge on the City, and there will be many celebrations tonight with the news of his defeat. The Vanguard has been after him for some time, I understand. But of course, I am getting ahead of myself. I am the Speaker. I speak for the Traveler while it cannot speak for itself. And you are?"

Whisper considered him for a moment, then shrugged. "I am Whisper."

The Speaker's mask tilted slightly. "A pleasure to meet you. Now, you must have no end of questions, guardian, and I have a few spare moments to share. So, as one servant of the Light to another, ask away."

Whisper thought for a moment. "You said you speak for the Traveler. What, exactly, is the Traveler?"

The Speaker sat back and steepled his gloved fingers in front of him. "I'm afraid your first question I cannot answer, despite centuries of study on precisely that topic. Is it the source of Light itself, or merely a conduit? A primeval force, or an agent of its own will? We do not know."

"Well then, can you at least explain what happened to it? Why is it just… hovering there?"

The Speaker chuckled quietly. "You do have a knack for difficult questions, don't you? But the important ones, too. I could tell you of the great battle against the Darkness that took place here centuries ago, how the Traveler was crippled and has not moved since. I could tell you of the power of the Darkness, the Traveler's ancient enemy. There are many tales told throughout the City to frighten children. Lately, those tales have stopped. Now… the children are frightened anyway. The Darkness is coming back. We will not survive it this time, not unless we can heal the Traveler first."

Whisper leaned forward. "But how could you possibly know that? What does any of that mean?"

"Believe me, young guardian, I understand your frustration. I have spent lifetimes studying the Traveler seeking to understand the answers to these very questions. I will explain what I can, but I am afraid our answers are few. We do not know the source of the Light nor the Dark, much less understand them. What we know is that they are total opposites, and that when humanity encountered the Traveler it was kind to us, and when the Darkness followed, we were destroyed. The struggle between the Light and the Dark was terrible, and far beyond our understanding. And with the arrival of the Darkness came its agents—not the Dark itself, but those touched by it, drawn to it. The Hive. And in their wake came the vultures, the Fallen, and more recently, scouts for the militaristic Cabal. As for the Darkness' return, well… it is something more sensed than observed. A feeling of unease in the City, even among the guardians, whose losses are mounting."

Whisper frowned at the vague response. It bothered her that after hundreds of years they still had so little idea about the most fundamental of questions. "So it just sits there, doing nothing, as the Darkness returns?"

"On the contrary. With its dying breath, the Traveler created the Ghosts to seek out those who can wield its Light as a weapon. To seek guardians to protect us, and do what the Traveler itself no longer can."

"Which I guess is me. But what am I supposed to do, exactly?"

It was the Speaker's turn to lean forward, his voice earnest. "You are the Light in our Darkness. Go out and spread it. You traveled many roads to get here - do not stop now. Travel far and wide, learn and see all you can, but know that you are always welcome home. And in doing so, you must push back the Darkness. Guardians are fighting on earth and beyond. Join them. Your ghost will guide you. I only hope it chose wisely."

Ghost chimed in. I did. I'm sure of it.

"Good. But be mindful of the countless miles ahead. They will test even the bravest of us."

A light pinged on the Speaker's desk and the leader of the City rose and stepped back over to check it. "Now, I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me, Whisper, but I've more work to do—there always seems to be some pressing new dispute in the Consensus that needs my attention."

Whisper, too, rose. "I see. I'll be on my way." Privately, she wondered what she was expected to do next, but if nobody was telling, well, she wasn't asking. So instead, she stood and headed out to wander the Tower. After all she'd been through since waking up outside the Cosmodrome she felt… she wasn't sure. She wasn't tired, not physically, at least. The benefit of being a machine, she supposed. Yet she felt almost… drained.

She found a good spot to consider this question in the same overlook where she'd spoken with Chester just after arriving. The sun was setting once again, and dark clouds were on the horizon, threatening rain.

How do I know this? How do I even know what rain is at all, but not remember who I am?

So many mysteries, so many questions. And one thing was becoming very clear – if there were any answers, she was going to have to find them herself. The sun settled lower in the sky as twilight made itself at home, and the light in her eyes slowly faded as well.

Referenced Lore

Grimoire:

Spike Grenade

Restoration

Ghosts

Armor:

Mark of Wings

Road Complex AA1 (legs, chest, head) (D2)

Quest Descriptions:

Return to the Speaker