[i]Chapter 1 HERE! [/i] [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/121926383?showBanned=0&path=0[/url] [b]NOTE: Please do not read Chapter 2 without first reading Chapter 1.[/b] [At this point in the story, Michas recalls the reason his father was not present at his graduation.] It all ended on a dull March afternoon. It was raining, which Alrahn was okay with; the rain reminded him of Earth. To his fireteam, it was plain annoying. Too bad they didn’t enjoy it; it was the last rainfall they’d experience. The setting is Venus, near the Vault of Glass. “What exactly are we doing here, again?” asked the Hunter. He was an average man, average height, average build. Tattered cloak and beat up armor suggested many battles. His Heliopause Mask with its glowing eyes were a slightly unsettling scene. A scout rifle on his hip, totally relaxed. “I swear, Paetos, if you keep asking that, I’m not sure you’re gonna make it home alive,” threatened the Warlock and leader of the expedition, Cyrus. He was a tall man, with his robes neatly kept and his armor polished. But this was a deceitful demeanor; Cyrus had been through some stuff, to put it bluntly. Whereas Paetos had a fun, albeit whiny, personality, Cyrus was never anything but serious. He stood erect, arms folded, chin slightly down as he was glaring at his companion. “Hey, man, it was an honest question that you keep neglecting to answer!” Cyrus sighed. “Did they not brief you?” Paetos thought for a moment. “I dunno. Don’t remember. Probably would’ve been helpful to stay awake during the briefing.” Cyrus’ nostrils flared under his helm. “You mean to tell me…you sat through an ENTIRE briefing from our SPEAKER just to tell me…” “Would you two shut up? Focus on the mission,” interjected Alrahn. He was by far the most noticeable man on his fireteam. Very tall, with enough muscle to make the Cabal raise their non-existent eyebrows. His worn armor clearly marked his battles. He was not a man to let others do the fighting for him; in typical Titan form, he was always the first on the battlefield. Even though he could not see Paetos’ face under his mask, Alrahn saw him take a breath and prepare to ask a question. Cutting him off, Alrahn said, “WHICH IS to investigate the Vault. Kabr and his team haven’t responded to our comms, so we are going in to retrieve them if they’re in trouble.” “Vex? I don’t like Vex,” whined Paetos. At this point, Cyrus rose from his crouching position, walked over to Paetos, and punched him square in the visor. Without hesitation, Paetos recovered, and as Cyrus went to land another hit the Hunter sidestepped and grabbed Cyrus’ wrist. Twisted. Hard. Suddenly, right before the Warlock’s wrist snapped, Alrahn came charging in and unleashed a shoulder charge into the tussling duo. Both flew a good 15 meters before crashing hard into the Venetian dirt. For someone who just body-checked two people in rage, Alrahn’s voice was terrifyingly calm. “Listen. Both of you. If you cannot, or are not willing to, carry out this mission, then go home. Return to orbit. I will go save our fellow Guardians while you act like children.” Kabr was a good friend of his. Pahanin was an old accomplice from several campaigns against the Fallen. And Praedyth…can’t say he’s heard the name. As soon as he finished, the Vault opened. It was a peculiar sight, as the circular door opened at the base to reveal a passageway. All three stood up, guns raised, ready to fight. But nothing came out. After a minute, Alrahn said, “Now’s your chance.” He set off towards the Vault. Reluctantly, and with glaring looks exchanged, the others followed. The rain intensified. Cautiously, the group approached the entrance to the Vault. Not a single Vex machine in sight. It was Cyrus who noted this first. “Wait.” The others stopped. “Isn’t it a little strange that the door opened for us? Or that it opened for no other apparent reason?” noticed Cyrus. “Like someone was waiting for us,” said Paetos. Alrahn agreed. It was almost uncanny how it opened just as they made their presence known. Even the air felt weird. It tingled. It… “When did it stop raining?” asked Paetos, in a slow tone. Indeed, it had seemed to stop raining almost instantly. But when Alrahn looked out toward the horizon… Cyrus said, “But look out by those trees. It’s still pouring over there.” “But it completely stopped here.” The air grew dark and hazy, and then it hit Alrahn. “Go, run! Run!” he exclaimed Paetos needed no second warning. He began to fall back, and at that time the cloud of haze and dark mist vanished. But something else was there with them. Something… All around them. Praetorians. The Vault began to close. But in front of them were countless Vex machines. “Alrahn, we need to go! Now!” “Not without Kabr and his team.” “We don’t have time for this! We need t…” At that moment, a blast of purple sent Cyrus soaring backwards into the Vault. He didn’t get up. Alrahn took one look at his prone comrade, looked back out at Paetos, who was cutting his way out of the Vex ambush, made eye contact. Alrahn nodded and made his decision. He stepped into the Vault. It closed. On the outside, Paetos had managed to escape. Running through the lush jungle, he frantically dialed for his ship. He had to get back to the Vanguard, to get help. On the inside, all was still. Alrahn looked at Cyrus, ran over to him. He felt for a pulse. This was not the first time he had done this; countless times the seasoned Titan had to declare his comrades dead. This time…was different. Trapped in the Vault of Glass, he needed all the help he could get. No pulse. Cyrus was dead. Alrahn bowed his head over the Warlock’s body, said a silent prayer, and walked further into the Vault. There had to be another way out. And he still had a mission to complete. Jump after precarious jump, Alrahn ended up in a strange room. There was another door at the far end, much similar to the Vault door, but smaller. He continued forward. Then stopped. “Ghost, I have a bad feeling about this. I need you to go. Record this, and then go. Hopefully someone will find you and Alrahn Damengar will live forever in memory,” he said with a sad smile. Just then, a haze of dark mist appeared. Exactly like the one that brought the Praetorian ambush. Instantly, he readied his weapon. But something told him it was futile. Nonetheless, he stood his ground. When the mist cleared, there were no Praetorians. In fact, there was only one Vex machine. A Hydra. But this Hydra was unlike any they’d taught him about in Battle School years ago. This one was…older. More powerful. Suddenly a voice appeared in his head. Sharp, clear, and devastatingly loud. It seemed to come from everywhere in his mind. It flowed like a river, never seeming to start at one particular area and never ending. “BEFORETHETEMPLARYOUARENOTWORTHYKNEELBEFORETHETEMPLARYOUARENOTWORTHYKNEEL” Alrahn didn’t know the machines could talk. But this one seemed to worm its way into his thoughts. He dropped his gun. But did not kneel. “My son,” he said, turning to his Ghost. “I love you.” Then the machine…laughed. As much as a machine can laugh. A very mechanical yet blood-curdling laugh. It rang throughout the Vault, echoing off the seemingly nonexistent roof. Then…they vanished. Alrahn and the Templar. At this point, Alrahn’s Ghost flew back to where Cyrus’ lifeless body lay. It had the feeling it was going to be there a while. It began to power down and enable dormant mode. [Paetos would return with another fireteam to attempt to rescue Cyrus and Alrahn. No Praetorians showed up this time. By the time they got the door open, Alrahn’s Ghost had powered itself back up, sensing other Guardians. But it was too late. This is how the Vanguard learned of Alrahn’s fate; the Ghost captured all of it. It is also how Michas came to find out about his father. Not dead...gone.]