This thread is getting flooded with too much text, so I'll just post a link here: http://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/67555658/0/0/1 Enjoy~

There was silence. It wasn’t the comfortable, tranquil sort of silence that eases the mind and dips the body into relaxation- it was, rather, the demanding and unnerving quiet that spoke of a tragic and violent past that none wanted to think nor speak of. Ancient whispers of a city that once was could only be heard in the howling of the wind, bringing with it whirls of desert sand that buffeted against hollow buildings. Tattered remnants of flags and bannisters whipped about in the vicious wind, straining against their bindings with each gust. Sand had long since wreaked havoc on the vibrant paints that once decorated the buildings of the city: only chipped remnants and flecks of color could speak of the vivacious life that must have once occupied this place. Shattered shards that clung to the frames of broken windows reflected the high sun, glinting dangerously as they refracted rays about them. Large dunes were already beginning to engulf the city, shorter buildings falling victim to the sandy mountains. Taller structures (apartments? Offices? Were suited men and women bustling through these industrial halls or were families chattering in late afternoons?) stood with a certain air of tortured pride above the swirling sea of sand, cracked concrete and rusted steel fighting like a ship mast against the devastating waves of sand that came with the wind. From the top of one of the larger buildings came a sudden, jolting crash that ricocheted and echoed with a splitting violence across battered stone and bent steel. The wind had dislodged a rather precarious metal beam from a roof, and it clattered down to bury itself in the sand. The metallic ring reverberated for seconds, until the sound was muffled and hen finally absorbed by the engulfing sand. Then there was silence.

Great stories by everyone.

I'll just drop mine here even though I missed the deadline by a month. Just thought others might like to see what I'm capable of (btw I did this in the last hour). It is exactly 300 words, including title. [b]Hope Renewed[/b] Humanity fell centuries ago. We lost everything. Now we've been given our chance, and I've seized it with both hands, as many around me have. Some fights should not be fought, but this is not war, this is survival. We have been surrounded for so long; encircled by our tireless enemies. Now it's our turn. Today, I take the fight to them. And I am not alone. As a hunter, I have the responsibility to watch our backs. It is my duty to watch the skies, the ground, and everything in between. The buried city. We come to it at last. Like the rest of humanity, this once-great and beautiful place was downtrodden. In this case, it was the Cabal, may their accursed souls never rest. Humanity and its allies are now pushing out against the darkness. I will do the same here. The buried city, lost and forgotten, its pride and beauty extinguished, will be made new. We will make it so, us guardians of the city; of humanity; of the light in the great void we call space. We will force the Cabal from their rest. They will be driven out like the dogs they are, and we will pursue them tirelessly, for that is our purpose. The red sands of Mars will be red again, and then over again. The Cabal may have driven us from Mars, and even held their ground against other guardians. But they have never fought us of the Vanguard. We, the greatest of the guardians, never fell, have never lost. We persevere and inspire where others fall. We drive the lines of battle. The Fallen fled earth in waves before us, when Mars is red with the blood of the Cabal, they will flee too. We conquer. We are Vanguard.

It was quiet. The crunch of red glass buried in redder sand sounded like old bones to him. Wilhelm wondered if his forefathers were buried on this cold rock. Scout craft had detected… what had they detected? The signal was not like a human’s nor an invader’s signature. It was like nothing picked-up before. Well, that wasn't true. The Traveler left that same mark on the instruments. But what would a sign like that be doing on the legendary “paradise” that was Mars? In the old human settlement, the Buried City? Kilometers deep inside the labyrinth of crumbling facilities and conduits that once were the life of the planet? He didn't know. This was a world event; something so big that Guardians from across the solar system, even advanced scouts past the world-moons of Jupiter, were coming in for. They had already encountered a Hive assault force, but it was shot-down before they even landed. Reports of Fallen gathering on the other side of the city were confirmed, and a Vex forward party had killed two Warlocks an hour ago. It seemed that all races wanted something here. He followed the massive dents Cabal make in the soft turf. Those led into the old entrance of Mars’s underground, the source of the signal. Twenty Guardians sounded behind him, veteran and geared for anything. A crackle sounded in his helm. “Wilhelm, the city block is secure. It’s time.” Humanity would not lose this lead. Not after losing so many others. Revival was their [i]right[/i], their inevitable destiny. And only a power like that of the Traveler would allow them to live again. “Guardians, move in. The Cabal have kindly opened the way for us.” Moving up the steps, in the blue of alien stationary lights, Wilhelm began his reclamation.

[b]A Warm Welcome[/b] Preda leaped from his perch in The Buried City, sliding down a leaning steel beam, kicking up the dust on the ground. He crossed the ruined plaza, heedless to any form of stealth he’d ingrained into his movements seemingly since birth. His target lay on the steps to the ancient subway station, which the red planet had retaken in the centuries of abandonment. “What’s your name?” “Micheck.” Here, up close, Preda could tell Micheck was a Titan. He’d shot a human. “You’re going to be OK. Stay with me.” Preda tried to keep his voice smooth, calm, confident, but with the years he’d spent in the wild, speaking to no one, he was out of practice. “Hale! Hale!” Preda cried. Turning back to Micheck, “It’s all right. He’s a Warlock.” Hale approached, his footsteps like wind brushing the earth. “Traveler!” Hale exclaimed. “I heard the shot. What happened?” “In this storm, I thought he was a Fallen.” “If he was a Fallen, he wouldn’t have been alone.” No doubt grimacing under his faceplate, already channeling the Traveler, Hale knelt to evaluate the Titan. Then Hale stopped, sighed, and stood. “Don’t tell me I killed him,” Preda said. Hale extended his hand down to Micheck. “He’s fine,” Hale said. “You just grazed him. Let’s go, big guy.” Micheck accepted Hale’s hand and rose, suddenly towering. “Honestly,” Hale said, “I don’t know how Hunters like you made it on your own in the wild. Lucky you’re a terrible shot.” “It’s Mars!” Preda said. “Visibility is near zero, and the winds never stop. He didn’t have his IFF activated. It isn’t like you can just turn friendly fire off.” Hale clapped the dust off Micheck’s shoulder armor. “What are you doing here?” “The Vanguard sent me to find you. It’s about the Cabal.” “They sent you alone?” Preda said. Micheck glared at Preda, who increased his distance. “He’s a Titan,” Hale said. “You really just going to trust him?” Preda asked. “He’s a Titan.” Micheck finished ascending the ancient subway station’s steps and stopped at the entrance, turning, beckoning. Preda and Hale followed.

Time “We’re running out.” “Of what?” he asked, although he undoubtedly knew. “You know that as a Mark 18 GHOST, I can process millions of processes a second. Do you know what that means warlock?” I spat sarcastically. The warlock stood, cape fluttering, black in the dark hallways of the Patonis Station. “The time I have left before my oxygen runs out... the five minutes, is a lifetime for you, so you don’t care if I get out in time.” I hummed, pleased, “You know me too well.” “I set the evac beacon, lets go!” “Well at least we found the Golden Age artifact. Oh looks like others picked up your beacon, we have Cabal on approach and ... oh look there’s your time, Vex portals opening outside, we need to leave!” I exited first, shooting an EMP, shutting down the Vex systems, but it was only temporary. The Warlock sprinted outside, and dove behind the concrete blocks that led to a staircase. “How did you do that?” “A sort of... Space Magic. But now, RUN! The Cabal are closing and Vex are recovering!” The Warlock sprinted to the stairwell, firing shots to both sides, but as he ran a plasma bullet hit him in the heart and he fell. “Oh boy,” I said as I self-destructed. In this yellow orb form above the Warlocks body, I could only support his brain for five minutes, if nobody jumpstarted us back up, we would die. “I told you were running out.” At this power, only feelings could be sensed, and I sensed his sadness, then content as he came to terms with his demise. As the battle raged between the Vex and Cabal for the artifact, I heard jet engines approaching, but with only seconds left, there just wasn’t enough time.

I know it's to late but I did this for my creative writing class in my college, after Pathways Out of Darkness vidoc. It's also to long. The One Who Questions Destiny When I saw the trailer of Destiny, The next big game developed by Bungie, I freaked; but a realization came to me What would it really be like Living in that world With all those lingering questions?...: I have seen a lot, but there’s still so much more to discover. My curiosity is overwhelming; I want to know the secrets of our past. I asked myself why everything seems to be against us; Why are we the ones that are forced to be stamped out against this universe? What have we done during our Golden age to deserve this fate? As I explore the ruins of what we were so proud of, I begin to question… I see the beauty of nature… I see how it has grown over our towers… How the sand has mixed with our ships… I have even gotten the chance to see the other planets around us. I can see our destruction and the beauty of our creations. I am very appreciative of the traveler for saving our lives. Very few of us survived when the unknown hit us hard. But, why did it do that? Why did the travelers save us? Why were we crushed? Why are there more that want to destroy us? As I look to see the enemies that probe for weaknesses, I realize, as I look at my friends in their excitement in taking down our opponents, that we are not very different. We are just as cruel. We have as much of a desire to stamp them out as they, towards us. One of the species against us is called the Fallen. We have fallen as well. But have they fallen because of us? I reconstructed what we have built in my mind, I see how we have infected our planet and push back the nature we should share. During our Golden age, were we the bad guys? Were we suppressing everyone else? I questioned my destiny as a Guardian. The Guardian of the last city of humanity! The Guardian that is blessed by the power of our fallen protector, the Traveler. The orb that hangs low and close to our homes, Where it made its last stand, Watching silently for when we need it. Is it observing our behavior? Does it think that we have the potential to change our violent nature? I discovered what type of Guardian I want to be; I want to be an archaeologist, To discover our secret sins. I want to be a peacemaker, To end the fighting. I want to be hope, For a future we can share with nature and all. My friend stared when I lowered my gun. That is when I said it: “I want to change my destiny to making our enemies our friends.” A friend of mine changed and looked at me. He mimicked me lowering the gun. He replied that it was a good dream, But we have to fight to survive. I hope we have the option to change things, But I think we missed our opportunity. We might have a new one. Maybe there’s a way, different from violence, to save our city, To reclaim all that we have lost. I could become legend. But if I try to explore this opportunity, There’s a possibility of an increase in our failure; The last light of civilization will go out! I am the one who questions our destiny, Of being destroyers or peacemakers. I hope we can synthesize nature and technology; That could be the key to our future!

I'll just leave this here... Two figures strode along the sand encrusted road, parched foliage casting long shadows on the coarse red dust. They had searched the place all day, hoping to find something, anything of value. The pickings had been thin. Slow, steady thumps echoed around a corner, followed by puffs of dust borne by the wind. The two hunters franticly searched their surroundings for cover. The last flicker of dusty cape vanished into the second-story window, just as a trio of Cabal lumbered around the corner, scanning the street down the sights of their weapons. Two claps of thunder rang out, echoing through the dusty cityscape. One cabal fell down clutching its face, trying to stop the controlled environment from escaping its breached atmosphere mask. Another staggered, but the round had missed the vent and impacted harmlessly against the tough helmet. It turned its gaze upward, searching for the source of the attack. As its comrade lay gasping on the ground, the third Cabal sprayed fire in the general direction of the sniper rounds, while opening a radio channel to summon backup. The hunters ducked as a burst of poorly aimed shots ricocheted around them, “Two still alive, transmission detected. This place is about to get lively.” They worked the actions on their snipers and sighted for a second volley. A pair of sharp cracks broke through the sound of the wind, causing the third Cabal to roar and drop its weapon. The second was hit again, in the dent left by the last shot, it fell over backwards – unconscious. Even as they fired, they were slinging their rifles, jumping from the window and running across, slashing at the one that had dropped its weapon and finishing off the other. “Preferred it when it was quiet – nice and peaceful”. Grimly, they counted their ammunition in preparation for the coming storm...