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Destiny

Discuss all things Destiny.
9/19/2014 8:30:36 AM
6

URGENT TRANSMISSION TO COMMANDER ZAVALA

[b]Guardian Unit Legend Index #: 2/4611686018434065331/2305843009223172676 "Titan" Class Special Encryption Key: 4178997130 Status: Highly Classified Coordinates X: 45.616667 | Y: 63.316667 "Skywatch" Local Route[/b] [i]I was on my first assigned patrol route in the area colloquially called "Old Russia" when I came upon a skirmish between Fallen and Hive forces. A small coalition of Acolytes, Thralls, Vanguards, and Dregs were engaged in active ground operations with each other. I observed as both factions continued to deplete each other's strength, and it was not until I believed it was sufficiently safe that I struck out from a flanking position, disorienting the remaining Fallen forces with a well placed flashbang before turning my shotgun on the Hive. Just as the last Acolyte fell, I turned my machine gun on the remaining Fallen and made short work of them. Unsure of whether the area was completely clear, I carefully surveyed the surrounding area, looking for signs of further enemy movement. It was slight, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed a movement within a nearby cave. With shotgun ready, I approached the cave slowly. I was mere steps away from the cave mouth when a Hive Thrall came rushing out at me snarling and gnashing its teeth. I blew it away, out of reflex more than anything, but there was no time to recover myself as two more Acolytes poured out of the same cave firing Shredder Void rounds. I scrambled behind a nearby broken Hive spire for cover and quickly dispatched them with my auto rifle. Certain that no more Hive would emerge for the time being, I approached the cave slowly, ready for an instant response. But I never got one. As I entered the cave, my helmet's light correction kicked and my vision quickly adjusted to the dimly lit interior, and I saw: nothing. Nothing but a small cave, the size of a singular living room, perhaps, but no larger. There was no equipment, armament, doors, or signs that anything of note had ever occurred in that space. "Why then?" I wondered. What were those Hive doing in here? Some dark ritual? A macabre invocation? It was as if they were simply waiting here, but for what? And why? Confused, I nevertheless exited the cave and began to return to my normal patrol route when I heard a scuffling and the sounds of a weapon priming from behind me. Without looking back, I jumped and tucked myself back behind the spire as Void bolts sailed harmlessly inches away where my body just was. [b]This all occurred 37 hours ago.[/b] Since then I have been locked in a seemingly eternal struggle as legions of Hive forces have emerged from the cave without ceasing, each one falling to my rifle just as the last. How many have I killed now? Hundreds? Thousands? I have long since lost track. Each Hive slain just seems to invigorate their dark forces as one after another, they proceed with the same reckless abandon and disregard for their own survival. Each one falls and another takes its place, charging out from the cave, firing upon my position as I gun them down in turn. It is not an attack, it is a flood, and I fear I will soon be swallowed by it. My arms ache with the repeated recoil of the rifle as each burst pops another Hive head. I lost feeling within my legs hours ago. And I fear that my mind has already given itself away to the fickle purposes of insanity. As I have lain here, shooting without ceasing, only my ghost companion to rely on for ammo synthesis, I have seen strange, unbelievable things. Fellow guardians, many of them of the esteemed Vanguard, seem to pass by the area and their behavior leads me to believe that they are mirages of delirium and delusion. Many will approach me and my position near the spire. Some seem to aid me in my trouble, laying down wave after wave of the Hive onslaught, and I am grateful for their help, but I know it is futile: the Hive never stop. Others seem to try to attack me, but their attacks have no impact. Hunter knives pass harmlessly through me, Titan punches are like a gentle breeze, Warlock Nova Bombs terrify me with their arcane energies, and yet do nothing but envelop me in a purple light. Some of these illusion charge into the cave itself, and I try to call out to them, "No! Please, it's too dangerous! Come back!" But to no avail. It appears at any rate that my communicator is broken, incapable of contacting anyone now except by direct link with a fireteam, and so I try to make use of simple gestures, a point there, a wave away, but nothing seems to communicate my intent. The strangest thing of all happens when these phantom guardians enter the cave though. It seems that the guardians who help me or attack me act differently in this respect. With my helmet's viewfinder, I catch glimpses of the helpful guardians entering the cave unchallenged, as if their very presence were enough to prevent the Hive from materializing from whatever dark dimension they do to appear within the cave. For these guardians the cave is a room of impossible treasure. Rare and legendary engrams litter the floor alongside armaments spoken of in legends and myth: the Hawkmoon, a Monte Carlo, the skull of what looked like an Ahamkara, items and equipment that turn a single guardian into one of the most powerful forces in the system, just sprayed across the ground for all to see and take. Some of the phantoms were happy to see this, they gave a joyous fist pump and jumped in the air before vanishing into orbit; still others were disgusted by their items, dismantling their impeccable equipment on the very spot before similarly vanishing to orbit. In either case, once they are gone, the Hive emerge once more, their forces undeterred, their numbers overflowing. The guardians who attack me seem to enter the cave for a very different reason. They see no weapons equipment within the cave. They simply enter and they... dance. Dancing is the only thing I can call it: the erratic, spastic movements of their bodies seem awkward and ridiculous at first, and if it were back at the Tower, I'm sure they would be laughed at for being impossibly bad at the activity, but within the dimly lit confines of the cave, their bodies twist and gyrate to a silent song, following a rhythm unknown to my mind, as their shadowy shapes cast ghoulish alien figures on the walls. Often they look at me, sometimes they point and wave, as if beckoning to me, and I feel a fear unmatched as a feeling of dread envelops my entire being. Who are these ghostly guardians, unfettered by the very notion of death? They stand about within the very portal to hell and lounge there as if it were a break room. It is clear the concepts of mortality and humanity mean nothing to these creatures in disguise, these trickster devils. At the very least, with their particular "safety dance" they seem to keep the Hive at bay, all the while watching each other or me, but to what end? It almost seems as if as long as they abuse it, never gonna lose it. Everything'll work out right. Occasionally, another guardian will enter the cave while the safety dancers inhabit it, but these guardians do not dance, and they are no friends of mine. These guardian seem to try and assault the safety dancers, punching, stabbing, or laying upon them to no avail, just as the safety dancers did to me. The safety dancers do not seem to mind; they act real rude and totally removed while the guardians attempting to interact are like imbeciles. But eventually, they all leave. They can go when they want to. The helpful guardians, the safety dancers; one time or another they all vanish into orbit. And without fail, the Hive return. Still no word from the tower. Still no true backup. Still no end in sight. It seems everything's out of control, at this place they will never find; perhaps I've come out of this world; perhaps I've left the real one behind, but the night is young and so am I. So I'll take the chance. Oh yes. The safety dance. [/i] [b]Transmission end. Sender not located. Status unverified.[/b]

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  • Edited by Omen47: 9/25/2014 8:30:18 PM
    [b]Incoming Transmission Guardian Unit Legend Index #: 2/4611686018434065331/2305843009223172676 "Titan" Class Special Encryption Key: 4178997130 Status: MIA Coordinates X: 45.921889 | Y: 62.458610 "Forgotten Shore" Local Route[/b] [i]It's over. It's finally over. The Hive forces have relented at last. Now only a scant few emerge occasionally, simple work for my fellow patrolling guardians. I'm so tired. How many days has it been? So many bullets; so much blood; so many broken bodies. To what end? The phantom guardians, they still haunt me: their constant assaults and dancing, the rare blooming of some sense of camaraderie on the battlefield... it's all gone now. My ghost has long since gone silent. Exhaustion, perhaps? Did I ask too much? Take too much? Rely too much? I took and took from it, demanding more and more ammo, more and more, more... and more, never thinking where it came from, and where it must go. I suppose, in hindsight, it's only natural that its light should fade. Only nothing comes from nothing, and what is gained must be taken from somewhere-- something, whether we know it or not. Here I stand on the shore with equipment: armor and weapons far beyond my means, banners meant for ranks far higher than I will ever know, items intended for those not me. I do not use them. Not because I do not want them, but because I cannot; some strange compulsion prevents me, as if I were not worthy, as if these objects do not deem me capable of utilizing them. And so I ask again, Commander Zavala, or whoever is listening: "to what end?" There is nothing left: no allies, no clear threat, no real goal, and no means to improve. The only thing I have gained... is a need for sleep. A very long sleep. The night is no longer young: it has come and gone, and I feel as if a millennium has passed. I don't think I have what it takes to be a guardian. Not anymore. But I'll always remember these long days and nights, and think some others will too. This time of the looted cave and the safety dance.[/i] [b]Transmission end. Communicator disabled. Updating Guardian Unit Index #: 2/4611686018434065331/2305843009223172676 "Titan" Class Status: Discharged from service[/b]

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  • [quote]Occasionally, another guardian will enter the cave while the safety dancers inhabit it, but these guardians do not dance, and they are no friends of mine.[/quote] That part has me in tears.

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  • I always did wonder why it was called Old Russia, when there is no New Russia just the tower. :/

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  • Edited by Rookie: 9/19/2014 10:38:21 AM
    This is pure awesomeness. Take a cookie.

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  • Nice name man :)

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  • That transmission came from the moon.

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