A Titan’s job is never easy. You’re expected to be the wall. The rocks upon which the surf froths and breaks. To repel the Darkness in impossible situations as if it were as easy as removing your helmet from your head. Every bullet, every form of energy that can be used to maim those around a Titan, must maim the Titan instead. The Titans began as the protectors of the Wall, but it is not until they leave the Wall that they understand that they were not just patrolling it, but that they were the Wall. The woman leaned back, reclining in one of the greatest comforts of her life, her chair. She had recovered it while in the European Deadzone. It was a Crucible live fire exercise that had gone horribly wrong, the Guardians involved finding themselves not fighting each other for sport and training, but fighting the Fallen for the mere right to live. The fighting was brutal. Their ships had been scuttled in a fly over by a ketch, and the Guardians had no choice but to dig in. The only reprieve from the exhaustion had been this chair. So when extraction arrived, she took it. Fixed it up. Filled it with life and comfort after sitting for centuries, barren. She would miss this chair the most. There was nothing much left to miss in this world, hundreds of years removed from her own time. She held up a single scrap of paper, something she had almost forgotten was in her hand. She looked at the paper, crinkled and weathered from countless viewing sessions similar to this one. Her thumb moved softly, back and forth across the image, almost as if she was caressing the memory that had been. “You know, I could always archive that so you don’t lose it. It’s important to you.” Her ghost flitted from one side of her head to the other, it’s pale white shell reflecting the light from the candles in the room. “No, it’s just a memory. If I’m meant to lose it, I will lose it.” The woman slipped the scrap of paper into her robe pocket and stood up. She walked across the room and over to a smooth, metallic door. She placed her left hand on the center of the door. She was met with a low ping and the smooth hiss of hidden gears as the door slid open. Her armor was impressive. Titan armor was known to be heavy and sturdy enough to break solid structures with a single punch. Her’s was no exception. Held in place by a small anti-gravity field, the armor stood just inches from the ground. The boots, plate, and arms were of a make from a smith that favored the Vanguard, his latest model. She admired it for a moment, the well-polished bronze and purple gleaming in the light. Marvaux was a master of his craft, and she was glad to be wearing his finest work into the Jovian void. She turned her back to the armor, extending her arms full span. The armor hissed and slid open, revealing a padded, temperature controlled interior meant to shield the user from any environment. It closed and clasped around her, and she could feel the light of the Void she channeled so earnestly begin to fill the armor with an effervescent hum. She took her first step into the room, regaining her familiarity with the piece immediately. She felt as if she was the armor. She turned back to the closet she had stored the armor in. Already sliding out of a recess in the wall to greet her was her helmet and favorite weapons. She picked up the helmet, eyeing it. Saint-14 had been an inspiration to many, and to hold a coveted perfect replication of his helmet in her hands was an almost giddy feeling. This helmet had seen her through more tough situations than she cared to remember, blinding foes with fear and light alike. She tucked it under her arm, and extended her hand towards the weapons. There were only two. An Omolon crafted Scout Rifle dubbed the ‘Hung Jury’, and bony, vented deliverer of Solar buckshot that could only be described as eerie. She looked ready, but she didn’t feel ready. There was something missing. She scanned the room around her until her eyes rested on her chair. “Little One, can you contact Amanda Holliday for me? It’s about my ship.” Table of Contents Part 1: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/174413981/0/0 Part 2: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/174803590/0/0 Part 3: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/175646760