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[i]The instructions to visit Venus had also come with a set of rough coordinates. Sure enough, they pointed towards the barren landscape of an active volcano, a place where even the air had been consumed by dense clouds of sulfurous gas.
The cautionary Titan had been wrong about one thing, as it seems the preparation for combat was unnecessary. There was no fight, no sign of any Fallen nor Vex that might have guarded such an inhospitable rock, and the only thing of interest was some kind of scarecrow.
It was mostly made from a lump of crudely cut stone that served as a makeshift body, but its arms and head were notably salvaged from some kind of golden Goblin. You have never seen such an ornate occurrence among all the Vex you have encountered, and it was because of this peculiarity that the sight caught your attention.
At the base of the marker was a Cluster.[/i]
[b]*************************************************************************************[/b]
[b][Entry 4: I saw my past, and left it behind.][/b]
I suffered a minor personality shift during the next few months that followed after my close encounter with death. Despite a comparative uneventfulness, I had grown notably more paranoid as concern grew within my still young mind. Every few minutes I would secretly check to make sure Aydin was still with me, just to confirm I hadn’t made another mistake and left him behind once again.
The obsession wasn’t needed, Aydin could take care of himself for the most part, but that didn’t matter. Behind the fading veil of fabricated bravado, I had felt almost worthless as the memory of my cowardice played again and again within my head. It reached the point that the uninvited guilt had starting to consume me. I became seclusive, distancing myself from all my peers out of a fear that my recklessness might someday put them in danger as well.
I spent a lot of time reflecting during those days, and while that lonesome phase persisted I came across a conclusion that is surprisingly rarely known.
Everyone knows that the Vex cannot simulate the Light, which is why they have yet to wipe us out with their teleporting nonsense, but everyone also seems to forget that there was a point in time when all Guardians [i]didn’t[/i] have the Traveler’s gift. Our past lives are therefore fair game for Vex calculations, meaning they know who we were before our first death.
Like all the others, I had no recollection of my mortal past, save for what I assumed was my name. The possibile discoveries were tempting, too tempting, and I began to frequently fantasize about what I could learn from a simple expedition. I was still terrified by the thought of something going horribly wrong, like my last trip into the wilds, but my fears naturally became increasingly lesser as my desire only grew.
I wrote my plan down on a piece of paper and showed it to Aydin as a way to ask for his advice. He rightfully called it a foolish endeavor, with no guarantee that the risks would have a reward, but being inactive for so long had gotten on my nerves. We left almost immediately, in search of the precious secrets held by ruthless machines.
My journey for enlightenment took us to the jungles of Venus, a planet well known for the ancient ruins that were common sight. The process of discovery was intentionally slow, as was the cost of caution, so two entire days passed without further progress. It was the third afternoon that gave the first lead.
We had come across a strange sight, what at a quick glance appeared to be a normal Vex Harpy, save for two clear oddities. It was as small as the average cat, and clad in solid gold.
Instinctually I tried to capture it, the Harpy being the only thing of interest in what had felt like an eternity, but the machine simply floated away from my grasp. Because catching it was seemingly impossible, I pulled out my Pulse in favor of salvaging its mind core instead.
That act of aggression proved fruitless, as it disappeared into thin air before I could even fire a single burst. Yet I still had the attention of the locals, which was evident by the audible crackle of Vex teleportation. Their response to my unwanted presence towered above me, the meanest looking Minotaur I had ever seen.
What disturbed me was not the decorative spikes, not the constant stream of milky Radiolaria that descended from its golden shoulders, not the one deep red eye at the center of its head. It was the fact that it could speak, and that it knew of me.
“How dare you.” spoke the Minotaur, wielding a regal voice that verged on being pompous. “Your return is an insult, Defiler.”
I was both thoroughly confused, and brashly irritated. It was not like I understood what it was referring to, and my mouth didn’t exactly possess the ability to ask questions. Any queries probably wouldn't have mattered regardless, as there wasn’t much time between the machine’s stated insult and an attempt to stomp me into the ground.
I barely dodged it, narrowly dashing to the side as the giant foot smashed the land where I once stood. I backpeddled to make sure I combated the enraged machine from a safe distance, which proved to be a wise decision, for it effectively allowed me to avoid the transformative fluids that rapidly leaked as the Minotaur advanced. The fight was a battle against time more than anything else, for the lethal pools of Radiolaria grew in size by the second, forcing me to resolve the conflict without an opportunity to divulge more secrets.
The violent encounter ended when I managed to break the machine’s single eye with a well placed shot, forcing it to blindly retreat into a vast tunnel by the side of a nearby mountain. I pursued, not because I was hungry for battle, but because there was still more to learn from my assailant. It implied that I had been to Venus before, and I wanted to know what I had done to invoke such rage so long ago.
My chase quickly resulted in me being once again lost within a cavernous labyrinth, only this time I had traded nightmares for clockwork. Strange cubic walls made up every hallway so that they all looked the same, some even opening as to reveal energy traps and assorted lasers. Any sain Guardian would have turned back at that point, but I was now familiar with experiencing such places, and only became more determined to achieve some kind of reward for my bravery.
Eventually my perilous expedition lead me into an enormous garden chamber, an abundantly lush paradise that held with it an answer I did not expect. At the far end of the overgrown room was what I originally thought to be some kind of metal throne, an object upon which the wounded Minotaur rested for repairs. The bizarreness of the nature-filled scene had left me baffled already, but then the seemingly unfitting choice of furniture unfolded itself into the guise of a gigantic Cyclops.
Looking at the unexpected machine allowed my Ghost to finally ascertain the name of my opponent: Midas, the Vengeful Mind. The title alone was all I needed to understand that the impending fight was more personal than I had first realized. The forgotten transgressions of my past must have caused our paths to cross before.
“You should have remained deceased.” spoke the false stranger that was Midas. “Leave this place, or I will make you perish forever.”
Once again I habitually checked to make sure Aydin was still with me, painfully aware of the vulnerable source of my immortality. We did not take the threat of eternal torture lightly, and readied our resolves in preparation for avoiding that fate at all costs.
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Edited by BioCats: 5/10/2019 5:04:59 PMThe Midas Cyclops retracted a set of thin mandibles that had been used to mend the shattered eye of the Minotaur, allowing the combat-oriented construct to regain its composure and perform a rematch. It wasted no time charging forward with an unhindered stride, toppling my fortitude with a single well aimed blow. I was tossed into the air and caught by a blooming tree, splintering its branches as my heavy armor paired with the natural attraction of the floor. There was no conceivable moment of peace between my measly return to an upright stance and another swift follow up kick. I slammed into a sharp rock and died instantly. There was no expectation of resurrection, for if I had been alive enough to think, I would have absolutely believed that my second end had finally been reached. Yet such a conclusion was clearly not meant to be, for Midas allowed Aydin the briefest of chances to bring me back. The Vengeful Mind was likely not satisfied with such a quick death. It did promise me I would perish forever, after all. I do not recall how many more deaths I experienced that day, my memory lost within the brief shards of time between one swift murder and the next. There was little I alone could do, for against my will I was trapped within a loop. If I was still a devious bragger, I would tell you that I ultimately overcame my superior foe with a great act of cleverness that turned the tide towards victory, but once again that’s an out of context truth and therefore misleading. It was Aydin that had the clever idea, not me, and it was one that I am grateful went unspoiled. Had the alien machine paid any attention to where I was guided to stand, had it overheard Aydin’s whispers, it wouldn’t have accidentally flung me at its own central mind. It had been a gamble, a single wishful prayer that Midas would not consider such an unorthodox method of salvation. My iron form became an unconventional spear that struck the Cyclops core directly, its screams made of pure surprise as I used the opportunity to take a vengeance of my own. Most of the proceeding violence was all instinct as I performed the task I was made for. My hands effortlessly dug into its curved chassis, as no amount of flimsy gold could halt a Lightbearer’s wrath. The Minotaur attempted to pull me from the hull of the Cyclops, but that only made my focus turn as I leapt to claim its unprotected head. I slipped my fingers into a gap that connected the neck to the body, and with an unrelenting grip I tore it free. I was thrown to the ground, ornate prize in hand, and the remains of the headless machine fled once more. I let it go, for the Midas Cyclops still lived. It lay dying where I had left it, the one glass eye sputtering pale bluish reds, so any further need for conflict was unnecessary. I was just about to pull out its mind core when Midas conjured for me a reward instead, a fully realized memory of our shared past. Before my very eyes was what I assumed to be a holographic replica of myself, a skeletal machine built in the shape of a man with a countenance of endless rage. His untrue form was locked in a frigid stance as Midas’s revelation continued to materialize. In the revealing display I saw the wonderful garden as it was originally meant to be, and I saw my past self burn it into oblivion without a second thought. The forgotten dead man I witnessed scared me down to my heart. “All I wanted was to build a paradise,” whispered the fading machine, its singular eye focused solely upon the projections. “And now you have destroyed it a second time.” Even though the Vengeful Mind had lost its victory, it still received revenge by imparting upon me another source of guilt. Suddenly my own mind felt sour, and I silently considered that perhaps it would be better if I continued to live in ignorance. Without waiting for Midas to experience the last moments of infinity, I walked out of the chamber and navigated my way back outside. The clear sky came with the conclusion that the loss of our memories might just be more kindness from the Traveler, and that my return to Venus was yet another mistake. In the end, I do not regret my trip to Venus, for not only had I admittedly learned from the event, but so had my other half as well. While I had been staring at Midas’s memory, Aydin had done something that was understatedly [i]brilliant[/i]. He used the opportunity to scan the intact recreation of my past self, and then afterwards took the obtained information to develop a schematic for a voicebox, my voice box. I don’t remember my first words, but I do remember how relieving it felt to speak after I had once believed I never would. There’s a freedom in having a voice, in being able to enact your thoughts onto the world so that others can listen and perfect themselves with understanding. A voice is a form of power, a power that can easily define who you are. With my voice I escaped the reach of seclusion, actively joining any open fireteam that was willing to have me. I found safety by being in groups, by for once traveling not alone, but in the presence of strangers that would in time become friends. I was happily innocent back then, before I had the chance to learn how cruel the world could truly be, before the fatal skirmish of Enedra. [i][On the barren Moon, in the ruins of Crota’s Temple.][/i] [b]Next Fragment:[/b] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/252049343?sort=0&page=0 [b]Book:[/b] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/251789024?sort=0&page=0