AN: I do keep track of the timeline, and we're late in the Season of the Forge. Mav's existence changes the course of the future, so things may happen differently, whether that means earlier, later, or not at all.

Ken POV:

I sit alone in the small chamber assigned to me, my massive frame awkwardly crammed into the chair meant for someone of smaller stature. My digits rest on the edge of the terminal in front of me, its soft glow illuminating a face wildly different from any of my fellow New Lights.

I am Ken. That is what my Ghost named me. The name feels strange on my tongue, as though meant for something else. But it is mine now, a tether to this new existence. Something I believe I will need in the days to come.

The terminal chirps faintly as I sift through the records the Hidden provided; a compendium of names and deeds, of Guardians who came before me. Heroes of the Light. Warriors who fought and fell and rose again, only to fight once more. I study them not out of reverence but curiosity.

Zavala. A stoic leader, unyielding as stone. His deeds are chronicled in meticulous detail, a catalog of battles waged and lives saved. In his voice logs, he speaks of duty, of sacrifice, of the unrelenting defense of the Last City. A leader.

Ikora Rey. Her brilliance is matched only by her mastery of the Light, her mind a weapon as formidable as any blade. She speaks of wisdom, of the pursuit of knowledge and the balance of power. A scholar.

From what I can gather, the Hive demand a singular devotion to the Sword Logic, where power justifies existence. But this Light I wield offers no such clarity.

What am I meant to be? The Speaker said our purpose is to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

My hands hover over the terminal as I scroll further, delving deeper into the annals of Guardian history. Countless names blur together, their deeds a cacophony of heroism and sacrifice. Until one halts me.

The entry begins with a depiction of him: an imposing figure clad in gleaming silver armor, his helmet adorned with a distinct crest. A paragon of strength and hope.

Saint-14. The Titan who stood as a bulwark against the forces of Darkness. The Guardian who inspired not just with his strength, but with his heart.

I lean closer, the terminal groaning under my weight.

I read of his victories: the countless battles where he turned the tide, the enemies he felled with nothing but his bare hands and unyielding Light. I read of his compassion: the refugees he shielded, the lives he saved simply by being a beacon of hope.

And I read of his fall. His death in the Infinite Forest, where he faced the Vex alone for simulated centuries. Even his enemies held respect for him, enshrining his body.

Saint-14. A knight of the Light. A warrior who stood not for conquest, but for protection. His strength was not a tool of domination, but a shield for the weak.

I see fragments of myself in him; or at least, who I wish to be. A shield, unyielding and resolute, standing firm against the storm.

Could I be the same? Could I be the wall against which Evil breaks?

My digits clench against the edges of the terminal, the metal groaning beneath the pressure. The question gnaws at me, persistent and unrelenting.

"What are you thinking?"

The voice startles me, though I do not show it. Fynch hovers beside me, his glowing green eye tilted inquisitively. My friend.

"Saint-14." I answer simply, my voice a low rumble.

"Ah, Saint. Yeah, he's kind of a big deal." Fynch's tone is light, but there's a hint of reverence there. "Everyone looked up to him. I mean, how could you not? The guy headbutted a Kell."

I turn my gaze to him, my three eyes narrowing. "A… Kell?"

"Leader of a House of Fallen. Big guy, bigger than you even. He just… bam! Headbutted it. Took it down." Fynch circles me, his excitement palpable. "He's like, the ultimate Titan. No offense, of course. You're pretty great too."

I ignore the comment, my attention returning to the terminal. "He stood for something greater than himself. He fought not for power, but for others."

"That's the idea, yeah," Fynch agrees. "Like the Speaker said: Guardians are protectors. That's what it's all about, isn't it? Giving people hope."

Hope…

"Do you think I could be like him?" I ask, my voice quiet.

Fynch pauses, his eye fixed on me. "Honestly? Yeah, I think you could. It's not about where you came from, Ken. It's about what you do now. And hey, if Saint-14 could take down a Kell with his forehead, imagine what you could do!"

I huff a low chuckle, the sound reverberating through the room. "You are… strange, Fynch."

"Hey, I'll take that as a compliment." He replies, floating closer. "But seriously, you've got potential, big guy. Just takes time to realize it."

Mavriel POV:

I fucking hate politics.

"This is madness!" Lakshmi-2 snaps, her electronic eyes blazing with disbelief. "Hive Guardians? These creatures are the enemy, born of the Darkness itself!"

Across the table, Executor Hideo leans forward, his pristine crimson robes a stark contrast to the grim expression on his face. "I agree. This is a risk we cannot afford. The City's safety must come first, and allowing these… these things into our ranks undermines everything we stand for!"

Lakshmi-2 nods sharply. "At least we agree on that."

Arach Jalal tilts his head, letting out a soft grunt. "The Light is not bound by our perceptions of worthiness. The Traveler's choices are unpredictable, and perhaps this development is a sign of a shift in a cosmic balance. We should study them, not reject them outright."

"Study them?" Hideo scoffs. "You mean harbor them. Give them sanctuary. And what happens when they turn on us? When the Darkness calls them back? Can you guarantee our safety then, Jalaal?!"

Zavala, standing tall at the head of the table, slams his fist against the wood. The sharp crack silences the room instantly. "Enough! We are not here to bicker like children."

Ikora nods in agreement, her voice calm but firm. "This is unprecedented, yes. But the Traveler has chosen these Hive, for reasons we cannot yet understand. To reject them outright is to reject the Traveler's will."

"Or to question whether it even was the Traveler's will." Hideo counters. "What if this is some kind of trick? A ruse to infiltrate the Last Safe City?"

"It is not." I finally speak, my voice cutting through the debate. All eyes turn to me, and the weight of their stares is almost suffocating. I draw a steady breath, keeping my tone even. "The Traveler led me to those Ghost's partners. These Hive have truly been reborn into the Light, bereft of any Worms to take advantage of their twisted Logic. It is our duty to take them in."

Lakshmi narrows her eyes. "And who are you to decide this? You call yourself Speaker only when it suits your interests. How do we know you haven't been compromised, Wizard?"

"Bold words from Maya's copy." I dryly reply, completely stunning the Exo.

Ikora gestures to me. "If we refuse to guide them, what message does that send to the Traveler? That we only trust its judgment when it suits us?"

"Ikora, with all due respect-" Hideo says. "-this is not just about trust. It's about risk. About the safety of our people. Accepting Hive Guardians could destabilize everything we've built."

"And turning them away could lead to something worse." Ikora counters, her gaze sharp as a blade. "Imagine if they were left to fend for themselves, untrained, misunderstood, and alienated. Do you think the Darkness wouldn't seize that opportunity?"

"Or worse." I add, my voice steady, "What if they find sanctuary elsewhere? What if our enemies offer them a place among their ranks? By pushing them away, we would create our own worst nightmare."

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of my words settling over the assembled leaders. Lakshmi breaks it first, her tone biting. "That's a lot of 'what ifs,' Speaker. We're supposed to deal in certainties."

"I agree." Hideo says, leaning forward. "And the only certainty here is that Hive are enemies of humanity. We cannot trust them, and we cannot risk our future on this… experiment."

I clench my fists beneath the table, fighting to keep my composure. The instinct to argue, to lash out, burns in my chest, but I know it would only hurt my case. Instead, I focus on Ikora and Zavala, the two people in the room who might still sway the Consensus.

"This is bigger than risk." I say, my voice quieter but no less firm. "This is about what kind of Guardians we want to be. Are we defined by our fear? Or by our belief in the Light's ability to transform and redeem?"

Zavala looks at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I wonder if I've pushed too hard. Then, he exhales slowly, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. "Mavriel, you're an idealist. And while that's not necessarily a fault, it doesn't change the fact that we have to be pragmatic. The Last City is fragile, especially so soon after the Red War. The people will not easily accept Hive in their midst."

"I'm not asking for immediate acceptance." I say. "I'm asking for a chance. A chance to prove that these Hive are not the monsters we once knew. That they can stand with us, fight with us, as equals."

Jalaal nods. "And how do you propose we do that?"

I hesitate, knowing the next part of my plan will draw even more scrutiny. "We've already taken steps. The Hive Guardians have been secluded in a secure location, under constant watch. We'll train them, to ensure they understand what it means to be a Guardian. Not the loot seeking renegades of today, but dutiful protectors of the innocent."

"Train them?" Hideo scoffs. "You're going to teach Hive how to wield the Light against our enemies? Against us, if they choose?"

"If we deny them that choice, we become no better than the Hive gods they once served."

The room falls into a tense silence, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. Zavala and Ikora exchange a glance, their unspoken conversation stretching longer than I'd like. Finally, Zavala speaks.

"You're putting a great deal of faith in these Hive, Mavriel." He sighs, rubbing a hand over his temple. "I'm not fully convinced. But I'm also not ready to shut this down entirely. The Traveler's will is… unclear, and I won't pretend to understand it."

Ikora nods. "I support Mavriel's plan. With strict oversight, of course."

Lakshmi glares at her. "You can't be serious."

"I am." Ikora says sharply. "This isn't about faith or trust. It's about pragmatism. If we shut them out, we create enemies. If we guide them, we gain allies. The risk is worth it."

Jalaal folds his hands. "Shall we put it to a vote?"

Zavala nods reluctantly. "Very well."

The vote is quick, but the results are unsurprising. Ikora and Jalaal support my plan, while Lakshmi and Hideo vehemently oppose it. Zavala casts the deciding vote, his expression pained as he finally speaks.

"We will allow this to proceed. But understand this: the Hive Guardians are your responsibility, Speaker. If this goes wrong, the consequences will fall on your shoulders."

I nod. "Understood."

The meeting adjourns, and as the Faction leaders file out, I'm left alone with Ikora and Zavala. Ikora places a hand on my shoulder. "So… how exactly do you plan to train them?"

"I've got an idea." I reply.

The cacophony of battle echoes through the Tower as I approach my destination. The sounds of gunfire, explosives, and Shaxx's booming voice carry through the air like a war drum. "That's it! Keep the pressure on! Don't let them breathe!" He roars, his voice audible even before I step into view.

Crucible screens dominate the space, broadcasting live matches from across the system. Lord Shaxx stands in his usual place.

He's clad in his iconic armor, the orange and white plates gleaming under the glow of the displays. His posture is commanding, one hand resting on the console in front of him while the other clenches into a fist. Even when he isn't yelling commands, he radiates an energy that demands attention.

I take a breath and approach. "Lord Shaxx."

His head tilts slightly in my direction, though his visor stays locked on the screens. "Ah, Mavriel. You've come at an exciting time! Look at that Hunter; flawless execution of a flank maneuver. And there! The Titan! A superb shoulder charge! HAHA!"

"Impressive, as always." I say, folding my arms. "But I need a moment of your time."

"You have it." He gestures broadly at the screens. "And a moment of the Crucible's glory. Speak!"

I step closer, lowering my voice just enough to suggest the seriousness of the topic. "Word of the Hive Guardians has leaked. Someone from the Consensus meeting I believe, disgruntled with the outcome."

Shaxx chuckles, though it's not unkind. "Did you think such a secret could stay buried for long? The Tower thrives on gossip, Wizard. And this? This is the whisper of the year. Hive Guardians? Unthinkable!"

"And yet, they exist."

He glances at me briefly, then back to the screen. "Indeed, they do. Hive wielding the Light? If I hadn't taken a brief stroll to see them myself, I'd call you a liar. A bold one, but a liar nonetheless."

I pause, choosing my words carefully. "They need training."

Shaxx laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberates through the room. "Training? From me?"

I meet his gaze, though his helmet hides his eyes. "Yes. You're one of the best trainers the Tower has. If anyone can mold them into something more, it's you."

He leans back slightly, crossing his arms. "You want me to train Hive to fight like Guardians? To be Guardians?"

"That's exactly what I'm asking." I say, stepping closer. "You've always said the Crucible is the whetstone Guardians sharpen themselves on. Continuing the metaphor, I believe these need the work of a blacksmith to hone their edges. Why not give it a try?"

Shaxx tilts his head, considering. "Because they're Hive, Mavriel." He gestures broadly at the screens. "Look at them. Titans, Hunters, Warlocks; Humans, Exos, Awoken. The Traveler chose us to stand against the Darkness. And now, suddenly, it chooses the Hive? It's a lot to swallow."

"I'm not asking you to trust them blindly." I reply. "I'm asking you to trust your instincts. You met them briefly, yes? What does your gut say?"

Shaxx turns back to the screens, silent for a moment. A particularly brutal match unfolds before him, and he barks out a command. "Hunter! Use your grenade! YES! That's it!"

I wait patiently, knowing better than to interrupt him in the middle of a callout. Finally, he turns back to me.

"You believe in them." He says, not as a question but as a statement.

"I do."

He nods slowly. "That's why you're the Speaker."

"Probably." I say. "They need someone who can push them. Someone who can show them what it means to fight for the people. They need you, Shaxx."

Another pause. Then, to my surprise, he laughs again, though this time it's softer, almost amused. "You've got nerve, I'll give you that. Asking me to take Hive under my wing... It's insane. Absolutely insane."

"But?"

"But..." He straightens up, his presence towering. "I've never been one to back down from a challenge. If these Hive are truly Guardians now, then they deserve the same chance as any other."

A surge of relief washes over me. "You'll do it?"

"I'll do it." he says firmly. "But on my terms. They'll train like any other Guardian; no, harder. They'll have to prove themselves, not just to me but to the entire City. And if they falter, if they show even a hint of loyalty to the Darkness..."

"They won't." I say quickly. "I'll vouch for them."

"Good." Shaxx says, his tone brooking no argument. "Because this won't be easy, Mavriel. The Crucible is a crucible for a reason. It's not just about skill, it's about spirit. About heart. If they don't have that, no amount of training will save them."

"Thank you, Shaxx. Truly."

He waves a hand dismissively. "Don't thank me yet. I'm throwing you under the Sparrow if it blows up in our faces."

"Fair enough."

He turns back to the screens, his voice rising once more. "Titan, what are you doing? You're a wall, not a twig- ACT LIKE IT! Warlock, excellent use of that Rift! Ikora would be proud, HAHA!"

I step back, watching him for a moment. If anyone can shape the Hive Guardians into something extraordinary, it's him.

"YOU SHOULD BE THROWING MORE GRENADES!"

I hover above the EDZ on wings of Pyro energy, staring down at the only structure for miles.

It took some thorough perusal of Vanguard records, helped along by Spectre, but I finally managed to find it.

Warlord's Ruin.

Long ago, when the City called for the Great Hunt of Ahamkara, Shaxx was called upon to slay many of the beasts.

He had the right temperament for it. You see, he never wished for their deaths, simply viewing the Ahamkara as akin to a house fire. You can't hate a fire for following its nature and burning down the house, but the fire must be put out all the same.

After 14 deaths, he slew an Ahamkara by the name of Hefnd, before putting its remains in a long abandoned castle to serve as a form of tomb.

Peering down into the castle, through stone and brick and snow, I can see the scattered bones of Hefnd all throughout the ruins.

Truthfully, Hefnd doesn't pose much of a threat now. He has power left in his bones, but has not managed to co-opt any of the Taken yet.

Unfortunately, he will pose a threat later. Best to deal with him now.

I hold my right hand out, my will calling forth my chosen armament.

From the depths of my soul, a massive spear emerges, impossibly ornate. Reinforcement is all that allows me to carry the ridiculously unwieldy thing one handed, its length longer than I am tall.

The thousand magic circuits inside me heat up, glowing lines visible through my robes as I let the spear drink deep from my prana. Heat explodes from the weapon, ignoring my body as the air becomes a haze, the snowfall around me becoming steam.

Words spill from my lips, an instinctual chant to accompany the incoming cataclysm.

"Thou shalt know the mercy of Gods long forgotten…"

I let my wings carry me to the highest point of the ruin, nearly every Ahamkara bone in my piercing line of sight, if obstructed from mundane vision by the mountain and the ruins. The ground beneath me glows red-hot, then begins to bubble and flow, the heat melting through the mountain's foundation like wax under a flame. The ruin groans, ancient stone crying out against the assault.

"Indra, open your eyes!"

The temperature spikes. The ground shifts, melting in rippling waves, and the symbol of a great fiery eye forms behind me, its gaze searing into the ruins as though judging them unworthy. My wings flare wide, and the heat reaches out in all directions, swallowing the air, choking the snow, and boiling the earth.

"This single strike is extinction itself!"

I take aim, my weapon pointed down at the subject of my wrath. The spear's metal casing disintegrates, revealing a core of pure energy; a blinding red light that pulses with unfathomable power. In the back of my mind, I hear it; a voice, faint but frantic, whispering in desperation.

The dead dragon begs me to stop.

I don't.

"Burn it all-!"

I thrust the spear downward.

"Vasavi Shakti!"O' Sun, Abide to Death

The legendary weapon unleashes its wrath.

A pillar of searing light erupts from the spear, its brilliance drowning out the world. For a moment, there is no sound, no sense of direction; only the overwhelming roar of power as the beam tears through the ruins, the mountain, and the earth itself. The very fabric of reality seems to shudder beneath the assault.

When the sound catches up, it is deafening, a thunderous roar that shakes the heavens and drowns out anything else. The ground beneath me collapses into molten chaos, the mountain itself reduced to a hellish crater. The air is heavy with ash, the snow long gone, replaced by rivers of glowing magma pouring into the abyss left by my strike.

I float at the edge of the destruction, spear still glowing faintly in my grip. The ruined castle- no, the entire mountain- is gone. In its place is a chasm that the surrounding earth swiftly begins to fill, the earth quaking in the aftermath.

"Holy shit…" Spectre's voice cuts through the silence, her tone full of awe.

I grin, hefting the now much lighter spear before resting it behind my neck, my arms draped over the shaft.

{'Kenterlude' +50 points
Beat the Witch Queen to the Punch +100 points
Met 'Shaxx' +50 points
Discovered 'Warlord's Ruin' +100 points
Destroyed 'Hefnd' +200 points
Achieved Level 5 Sorcerer +50 points

Rolling…

Source - Magical Blood - Justice League Dark (600 points)

Roll Success. Current stockpile: 600 Points.

Purchase Magical Blood?}

Magical Blood

You're no two-bit magician plying parlor tricks and making pacts with bottom-feeding spirits. In your veins flow the blood of old – the blood that flowed in Atlantis before it sank beneath the waves. Drawing magic is as easy for you as drawing breath, casting spells is no harder than flexing your hand.

Not only is your talent impressive, but you also have advanced training in some type of magic. There are any number of magical disciplines and traditions you could have been trained under, from backwards magic, to traditional eastern magic, to some hodgepodge style all your own. Whatever the case, you start off comparable to Zatanna in strength and skill, and have roughly the same potential she has. Given effort and training, you will grow to be one of the most powerful mortal mages alive.

Or... you could take shortcuts, make deals and pacts. Take on the boons of outside forces to enhance your innate power. Though this, as I'm sure you can ascertain, would be costly and fraught with great risks.

But remember, your power may be grand, but that means the cost of your power is, too, all the more grand.

The opportunity to cast Backwards Magic like Zatana?

Yoink!

"HehehehehHAHAHAHAHA!" I cackle, high on both the destruction I caused and the supremely powerful roll. I feel new power awakening in my blood, yet another source of mystical energy for me to use to bend the world to my will. Knowledge on how to use the same kind of magic Zatana does filters into my brain.

"Ah… it's good to be me." I happily mutter.

CHAPTER 22 END

AN: Mavriel finally used his ridiculously powerful spear, and he used it on something that didn't really warrant that level of destruction. Overkill, some might even say.

With [Magical Blood: Backwards Magic], Mav now has access to the same kind of mojo that comic Zatana has. He was just barely able to scrounge up enough points to afford the roll, so now he has incredibly versatile magic.