Hello, everybody, here's part 60 of Into the Hellmouth! Here's [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/215381552?showBanned=0&path=0]part 59[/url] if you missed it, or, if you're looking for a different part, here's the [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/209303839?showBanned=0&path=0]master post[/url]! As usual, if you like it, give it a bump, and I'll get more out soon! Stay classy, Guardians! Oryx gazed out into Space. Alak-Hul’s fleet and finally responded to his summons, and was set to meet him at these co-ordinates. He wondered what could’ve happened to his foster-son in order to make him schedule such a thing. He didn’t suspect treachery - but he’d brought along several smaller Dreadnoughts in addition to his own, just in case. Eventually, a Dreadnought cut through into existence, accompanied by a large amount of tombships. Oryx frowned. He’d sent the Darkblade out with three additional Dreadnoughts. Echstar approached him. “Incoming transmission,” he said. “Put it through,” he replied. A hologram of Alak-Hul holding his battle-ax appeared in front of him. Oryx nodded. “Hello, my foster-son,” he said. “Oryx,” Alak said. The informal greeting surprised Oryx. “Why have you called us here?” he asked. “Did you defeat the Argians so quickly?” Alak did not respond at first. “Do you remember what happened when you first called me to the Argian system?” he asked. “You were defending my son’s Throne World from Servants of the Light,” Oryx replied. “I remember. Now why do you ask?” “I was defending your son with my mate, Verok,” he said. “Soon after I left, she was killed. And I was not able to save her.” Oryx frowned. “That is. . . truly terrible news,” he said. “She was a fearsome general.” “That she was,” Alak said. “But now that she is gone, my task is clear.” The Hologram leaned forwards. “I was angry with you at first, my king. Oh, so angry! But now, that rage has cooled, allowing me to fashion it into my own weapon. I shall end you, my king. I shall take your place on the Osmium throne.” Echstar spoke up. “Sir, three dreadnoughts just cut in behind us!” he shouted. “They’ve opened fire!” Oryx looked to his right, and watched as one of the smaller ships exploded. He growled, and turned towards the hologram. “You will live to regret this, Alak-Hul!” he shouted. “No, I don’t think I will,” the Darkblade replied. “I shall usurp your throne - or I shall die trying.” And with that, the hologram disappeared, and the Dreadnought in front of them opened fire. The bones became her relics. After she had killed a hive, she would strip it of it’s bones, bringing them back to her cave. At first, it was merely for the sake of survival. A necessity for living. With the bones, she fashioned knives. There was, she thought, a pleasant irony in killing the Hive with the remains of their own dead. From the shrouds of wizards she fashioned cloaks, from the knights she fashioned armor. However, it soon devolved into something akin to ritual. She collected their bones in her cave, presiding over heaps of them like the dragons of old Earth legend had presided over their hoards of stolen gold. They became her medallions. Her anchoring point. For her, the bones of the Hive became a necessary thing to preserve her sanity. It never once occurred to her that she had left sanity behind. The pit had taken that from her - along with so many other things. Eris Morn’s face was caked with grime. The dust of Luna clung to her skin and her clothes. Between that and her new eyes, she was scarcely recognizable as human. Eris Morn did not live in that pit. Eris Morn barely even survived, for she had died when Eriana-3 had sacrificed herself in an a So she wandered through the pit, killing Hive for the sake of sheer survival, and collecting their bones in order to satisfy her compulsions. She had lost all thoughts of vengeance, or Light, or right, or wrong. In time, Eris Morn forgot the Tower. Forgot the Light. Forgot her fallen friends. In time, Eris Morn forgot herself. Eris Morn stalked the Hive through their caverns. Sometimes, she killed them. And sometimes, she simply listened. First, she listened to Toland’s journal, until she’d memorized it from beginning to end. From it, she learned of the Dreadnoughts that the Hive used to navigate from system to system, and of the Hive’s hierarchy. She learned of how Crota was merely the lesser son of an even greater sire - Oryx, the Taken King. A being who was billions of years old. Billions of years. The sheer magnitude of that lifespan was incomprehensible to Eris. She came from a word where four centuries was perceived as ancient. The idea that there was a being who had been alive since the formation of Earth boggled her mind. After she had learned everything there was to learn from Toland’s journal, she proceeded to learn from the Hive. She followed them into their caverns, and learned of their dark rituals. She listened, and heard of Alak-Hul’s rebellion against the Taken King. And then she would kill another hive, and take its’ bones back to her lair. In the pit, the thing that had once been Eris Morn survived. Edit[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/216049674]: Part 61[/url]