Hello! So I'm rather new to the Destiny community, and am still doing my research. However, I'm not terribly new at writing, and have been coming up with theories and stories for Destiny since I discovered the Grimoire and the fan-fiction. I should hope that I manage to fit into this community and make it my new home, as the game I used to write for is unfortunately no more. My writings are usually quite lengthy, so please keep that in mind should you consider reading further. Also, I like things to be grim, which fits just fine with Destiny as far as I can tell. Please let me know if I should continue, or if there are flaws that should be corrected. Thank you! = War is the only thing I've ever known. I don't remember any of my life before my ghost found me, but I know I was at war then too. I bet even before the traveler. I was made for it. To kill other exos, or humans... I don't know. I was made for war. It's in my metal, my programming... It's in my very soul... If that's what you'd call it. -- The red dust scattered through the winds, the horizon clouded by the substance in which all creatures on this planet grew to hate. Mars was always an unforgiving planet, the pinnacle of human space flight, until the traveler at least. It was always that one place 'just out of reach'. "Might want to get moving." The red dust had begun to gather on Eta's visor, in which he attempted to wipe with his gauntlet. "The palace is that way, straight into the storm." "Into a rising wind, eh?" The ghost popped up in-front of him, hovering above his hand. "Honestly, do you have to say that every time we're on Mars?" His sparrow materialized beneath him as his ghost vanished. "Pablo, if I didn't, I'd forget how great this place once was." With that, the sparrow kicked into overdrive. "But... Why Pablo?" -- By the time the duo reached the palace, it was already engulfed by the rage of Mars. The dust reduced all visibility, nothing could penetrate the iron enriched dirt. "I'm receiving the packet now... Psion Flayers, powerful psionics with the ability to interface with technology... Rasputin has a tendril here, and we need them out of it." "It's because I care." His motion tracker hadn't been useful as of yet, it showed movement in every possible direction, but that was more like static; always quick to dissipate. Now there was a solid target straight ahead of him. "Um... What?" Eta glanced backward for a moment, checking to see if he could see the small hill where he had dematerialized his sparrow at. He couldn't. "Pablo, I call you Pablo because I care." With a slow movement, he grasped his hand cannon from his hip, the dust had settled in some of the etchings, but that wouldn't affect it's ability. With only a moment's notice, he rushed forward, jumping onto the shoulders of a Legionary. Two rounds was all he could spare, one right after the other, dead center of it's head. As it fell, he used the monster's momentum to launch himself at the Centurion, who was only now turning toward him. Three shots for the shield, one for the damage. The beast stumbled backward, the brunt of the bullet's inertia conveying into it. As it stumbled, he swung his fist, the void light glowing dim in the diminished light. The creature floated lightly backwards, dematerializing to nothing as the energy bolstered Eta's shield. The void energy surrounding him would probably give him away, but that didn't matter now. With a quick movement, the revolver opened and released it's magazine. He replaced it with a likewise casing. "But... Pablo?" A hail of fire crashed toward Eta, who walked forward with confidence. He liked to think of himself as the grim reaper, undaunted by their infantile attempts to kill him. Several explosions erupted off of his shield, still only causing a dent in it's power. Weapon drawn, he began pegging off turtle after turtle, helmet's popping off as the bullets ripped through their heads. After the last Phalanx shield hit the ground, his shield energy quickly began to recharge only to dissipate into nothing. "I like the little ones, they make me feel so damn powerful." Eta wandered toward a fallen Centurion, looking at it's mangled face. "You know, these things are powerful. I wish I could talk to them, get them to fight for us instead." A laugh erupted from the ghost. "You mean convince the darkness to fight for the light?" Eta cocked his head sideways, looking into the creature's glazing eye. "I wonder if they see us as darkness and themselves as light." He stood, looking toward the entrance to the building. "These flayers, are they going to be an issue?" "They've been known to eliminate whole strike teams, classified as one of the biggest dangers from the Cabal. For you? Ya, they're an issue." Pablo began to project light, illuminating the now darkened foyer. The bodies steamed eerily in the darkness as he strode forward. "Good, I like a challenge." -- The first door was of little issue. Pablo cracked it open, and Eta cracked skulls. This continued upward into the building, Vex and Cabal alike fell before the Titan. "Pablo, do you know why I like the Cabal so much?" The ghost sighed, eye obviously rolling as he worked to open the gate. "Yes, and you're going to tell me any..." "They're simple. Reflexive. All they do is kill things, and they like it that way. Vex? Almost the same, but they're robots. That's expected. Fallen? Nah, they get scared at some point or another. Hive? Nope, they want to feed, gotta have something to gnaw on." He reached down at this point, removing a Cabal helmet from a pile of dust. "But the Cabal? Organic, and angry. That's it. They only run from a fight so they can get bigger guns. I like that." Pablo had had the door open as Eta started his rant. He chose to float there, watching Eta play with the creature's skull cap. "When are you going to let them go?" The helmet hit the ground with a loud clatter. The barren room echoed the noise with fewer and fewer rebuttals. "This isn't about them." Pablo watched cautiously from where he floated, waiting for Eta to move. "Then, why do we fight the Cabal and not the Vex? Or the Fallen?" Eta looked to the ghost, then down to the helmet. "Like I said... The Cabal..." "Are the ones that killed them." Pablo floated closer. "And like I said, THIS ISN'T ABOUT THEM!" Eta's shout filled the chamber, it again reverberating with noise. If there were enemies here, they too decided this was a bad time. "Eta, it was a year ago. I know, it hurts, but you have to mov..." Eta began walking toward Pablo then. "Do what? Move on? Stop thinking about how her head came off? About how he screamed for me to save him? HOW I WATCHED AS THEY..." Eta's voice caught. His fists were clenched, and though he could not cry, his vision was not clear. "Eta... They..." Pablo stopped himself, then attempted again. "You, you survived. Not because you were a coward, not because they were too slow, but because you were doing your job, just like they were." Eta's eyes were clenched shut, the anger flowed like a poison through his circuitry, the need for revenge flooding his mind. A few tense moments drifted by, Pablo cautiously watching the surroundings while keeping a close eye on Eta as he relaxed. "I like the Cabal. It's not their fault she's dead. They were doing their job, just like we were." With that, Eta stood upright, and stormed past Pablo, who followed closely behind. -- (Just discovered the word cap. Continue reading in the comment!)