The Lightless Guardian looked down into the valley, contemplating death. “It’d be quick.” Orion gazed over the edge. The cliff was a yawning, deathly descent that should have given him light-headed vertigo. But before, this would have just been a minor inconvenience. “No.” his Ghost protested. “You’d be rid of me.” The little Light shook. “That’s not how I feel, and you know it.” Silence. Birds sang, sweetening the chilled mountain air with their humble beauty. “I know you miss him. I know you wish you could remember.” the Ghost said, hovering eye to eyes with his Guardian. “But this isn’t a remedy.” Orion fiddled with his knife, expression unreadable. “I know, but...” His toes hung over the edge of the cliff. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. “All this time I couldn’t die. Never thought about it. Now...” He didn’t finish, didn’t need to; it was so close. Spark, trembling, hovered next to his shoulder, watching the sun rise. After a minute passed, he nudged Orion’s shoulder. The hunter stood, worn iron at his hip, knife disappearing into the sheath on his wrist. A soft sigh came from his metal lips. Then something shifted. Orion ducked to the ground as the boom of a rifle silenced the birdsong. The iron was in his hand, and he methodically loaded each round into the chamber. In the absence of wind, he could hear his opponent reloading. Peeking from behind cover, he squeezed off a couple shots, the boom of the revolver breaking the almost-silence. “Hell of a view!” shouted his attacker after a moment of silence. Orion said nothing, simply listening. He didn’t dare look from behind his cover. He thought he heard a faint metallic thud, as his assailant’s armor struck the ground. Rolling? He took a gamble and leapt into the open, doing a roll of his own and unloading a screaming volley of iron onto his attacker. As the bullets struck their armor, he observed their appearance. If he hadn’t known any better, he’d say they were a Titan. But if they had Light-based abilities they would have already- THOOM. His enemy’s rifle thundered, and a terrible blade, a blunt edge of pain, sliced through his shoulder. His enemy grunted with the pain of the hunter’s attack, raised the rifle once more. But the hunter had vanished. Staggering drunkenly, the assassin cradled their rifle. “ORION!” they shouted guterally. The Hunter tried to concentrate on their voice. He’d heard it before… somewhere… “Spark.” he gasped. “Tell me what he’s got.” The Ghost muttered tired nonsense sounds in his helmet before responding. “He’s got a unique energy signature in the helmet. Thermal… thermal scanner.” The assassin looked through the very device, a reddish outline pulsing behind a bush. “I SEE YOU!” Orion barely had time to move before the bush exploded, a superhuman blow cracking the visor of his helmet. Stumbling over himself, he dodged another devastating swing and drew his blade, tearing it from its sheath and piercing the assassin’s helmet in turn. They growled, rifle swinging down like a club to beat him into submission, but he raised his knife and cannon to block the attack, barely. He trembled, shoulder screaming in pain. His opponent loomed. A sidestep, and the assassin was off balance, a slight stumble in their step. It was all Orion needed. The hunter drove the knife home into the assassin’s chest plate, the pistol swinging to knock of their helm- They caught the blow. He’d forgotten about his newly lost Light. “Thought you had it? I wish I did.” The assassin said. That terrible arm clamped down on the hunter’s throat. His enemy was wearing a helmet, but he could feel the hatred burning from beneath it. A raw fire hoping, yearning to undo him. “But I never get what I want. The Mob doesn’t think you’re anything. But you’re everything. All I have. All I [i]want.[/i]” Darkness crept at the edge of his vision. He fumbled for the knife, and with a clumsy draw of the blade drove it deep into the assassin’s armored chest. The assault did not cease. Or at least, not until he pressed the little button on the knife’s handle. A pulse of arc crackled into being, and with a sizzling of flesh leapt hungrily into his attacker. That fiendish grip loosened, the arm flailing uncontrollably - malfunctioning? - and the assassin tried to regain control. Too late. Orion staggered forward and drove his shoulder into his would-be-killer, pushing them towards the edge of the cliff. His Light was gone, but he was still a Guardian. Too little to late the assassin grasped at his face, clawing for a respite, only to find none. Reaching the edge, Orion thrust out his arms and threw down his opponent, sending them screaming off the mountainside. “I’LL FIND YOU! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL TAKE WHAT’S MINE! I’LL FIND YOU!” they screamed, the threats dissolving into incomprehensible cries of pain. Orion collapses, vision fuzzy, eyes drooping to the only place they can look - the yawning expanse of the valley below. But he’s done looking down. So he turns towards the rising sun. The light in a Lightless world.