As Slate flew away with Osiris, Cerragus suggested, “I could just make sure not to shoot him, if that would make things easier.” Osiris shook his head. “No. The simulation is designed to stress you with live combat. I’m glad I stopped the program when I did; the targets were just about to reciprocate.” “Recipro—?” Suddenly, the dummy behind Cerragus began firing blasts of energy from its arms. Several of the shots scorched the Cabal’s armor, but he retaliated with several slugs that disabled the weaponized target. He wasn’t given a break, however, and more targets rolled out of the compartment and fired on him. Cerragus continued to fire on the closest target before moving to the next. He got into a rhythm of anticipating the dummies’ attacks, ducking and sidestepping the bolts as they flew toward him. Something about the fighting felt natural to Cerragus. He felt his emotions give way to the simple task of aiming, firing, evading, and repeating. Then, he heard something in his head: a heavy drum beat, followed by sounding horns. His vision flashed as he was suddenly surrounded by other Cabal, all firing at unseen enemies across a burning, smoke-filled battlefield. His reverie distracted him at the wrong moment, as the routine increased difficulty with more mannequins rolling out and firing with a higher rate. A bolt cut through the under armor inside his arm, and he reacted by jumping out of the way. His leap carried him higher and farther than he anticipated though, and smacked halfway up the wall before falling back down. The targets mercilessly gunned him down while he tried to gather himself. It felt like an instant later he was taking a sharp breath as Slate and Osiris looked down at him. He watched as a blue beam of light from Slate’s eye stitched his wounds and repaired his armor. “What was that?” Cerragus spat, getting to his full height over Osiris. “That was your first death since you were reborn,” Osiris replied, watching him carefully. “You said this was a training exercise!” “Indeed. For Risen. Make no mistake, this cycle of death and rebirth is going to become second nature to you. When you reach full potential, High Command will send you [i]alone[/i] on missions that would normally require a platoon of soldiers to complete. You will most certainly die on occasion – but you will survive thanks to the Light.” “You mean to tell me you put all Risen through this?” Osiris shook his head, retreating to the control console. “Not everyone. These set of programs and simulations are geared toward preparing Titans. I theorized that you have at least come from military origins, which better compliments a Titan’s standard training regime, so I had you practice that way first.” “‘Titans’?” the Cabal repeated. “What are those?” “They are what you would normally call Light Breakers. Before your kind ever came and integrated the first Risen into their ranks, they were separated into three distinguishable classes: the Titans, the Warlocks, and the Hunters. Once we became soldiers of the Cabal, the redesignated them with those atrocious militarized titles.” “So am I a Light Breaker…er, Titan?” Cerragus asked, pointing at himself. “That remains to be determined,” Osiris countered. “Your jump is unlike any Risen’s I can recall seeing.” “What do you mean?” “You careened into the wall with a Light-infused jump,” Slate explained, patching up the last of his armor. “Wasn’t that my…booster pack?” Cerragus asked, suddenly confused that he knew what that was. “You don’t have a booster pack,” Slate replied. “That was all you, buddy.” “Ghost! If you’re finished, get out,” Osiris called. “We’re going to continue the exercise. You were in a good state of mind to tap into your Light, Cerragus. Try to maintain that as I modify the difficultly and expose you to different aspects of Light. Hopefully, it should help trigger your abilities.” “And if it doesn’t?” Cerragus worried. “Then you will die – but survive,” he answered, restarting the program. The targets started to fire right off the bat, but he felt something shift in the floor underneath him. As he moved around to shoot and avoid, his movements became more sluggish as it seemed gravity itself was increasing under him. It was entirely uncomfortable, but it didn’t help him maintain the steely focus he had before. It left as suddenly as it came, and on the walls large coils extended out. Arcs of electricity sprung from them and connected to Cerragus. They stung on impact, but less than he expected. In fact, he felt like they were feeding him energy, but it made his movements more erratic and threw off his aim. They too receded in time, replaced by nozzles coming out of the floor and spraying the training area and Cerragus with a filmy liquid. One of the mannequin’s rollers sparked in its harness, and ignited the liquid into a bright yellow flame and turning the floor into a blazing inferno. He was startled by the flames licking at his boots, but once again had a vision of the burning plain. In it, he marched right through the fire, his resolve pushing him forward as he shot at something behind the smoke. He remembered it burning his legs as he walked, but it only served to push him forward faster and his blood pump harder. He heard the drums and horns sound in his mind again, and he looked through his reverie back to the targets firing on him. He attacked them with renewed vigor, getting into the rhythm again and matching the targets’ pace. A few seconds later, the targets came out even faster and were armed with more powerful weaponry. Cerragus aimed his rifle, but nothing happened when he pulled the trigger. He had run out of ammo. He looked at the racks but saw that several dummies had positioned themselves in his way. He dropped the gun and felt something race into his empty hands. He looked down to see a ball of fire in his fist, but it didn’t seem to burn him. He threw it into the collection of dummies, where it exploded in flames and took the mannequins and guns with it. He was stunned until one target got him in the back with a several heavy bolts. He swung around, another grenade forming in his hands that he launched at his attacker. He found himself standing at a junction of the rail as another dummy rushed directly into him. He drew back his arm and plowed into the machine with a burning fist, knocking it back down the rail into other mannequins. He watched the flames die on his knuckles. [i]The fire answers to [/i] me! The targets did not take part in his revelation and continued to file out of the compartments, shooting all the while. Cerragus was growing tired of this. He felt something form in his hand, and quickly swung his arm forward. Instead of a fiery grenade, a burning arc of flame blazed through the air and smashed into targets, turning them into slag and clogging the rail outside one of the compartments. He looked down to see a curved, flaming sword clutched in his hand. He slashed it in front of him and sent another blast of fire at a compartment, destroying the opening and preventing the dummies from coming out. He launched himself into the air and repeated the maneuver several times until all the compartments were blocked and the mannequins were destroyed. He landed just as the flame sword flickered out in his grasp. He felt a little drained, but could still sense the burning energy inside him. He turned to see Osiris’ expression. The old man was stroking his goatee again. “Did I do well?” he asked, breathing hard. Osiris shrugged. “I am honestly at a loss for words.” Suddenly the ground beneath their feet shook heavily, and the two Risen had to stumble around to maintain their footing. “Did I break something?” Cerragus called out. “No!” Osiris replied. “Either we’re experiencing a rare instance of the planet’s volcanic phenomena, or those idiots with the drills forgot to activate the seismic dampeners!” When the shaking ceased, Osiris ran to a console and screamed into the microphone, “Someone get the drill engineer on the phone! That idiot is going to bring the buildings down on our heads!” “This [i]is[/i] the drill engineer, sir,” a voice crackled back. “There’s nothing I can do about the shaking!” “OH?” Osiris scoffed. “How about you turn off you [i]damn[/i] drill and activate the seismic dampeners!” “[i]Both[/i] are off now!” the engineer replied. “We stopped once we felt the first shocks. Then the cave walls we just dug started changing, getting all blocky like the ruins on the surface!” Osiris’ eyes widened. “No, you don’t mean—” “I do, sir. The planet’s starting to fight back.” [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Groups/Post?groupId=1371758&postId=244991280&sort=0&page=0]Table of Contents[/url]