There is something refreshing about the night air atop the tower. I missed home while I was away on my expedition; I missed watching the stars twinkling behind the Traveler - almost reminded me of a moon. A moon our earth deserves. Silent, peaceful, still; no infestation, no combat, no bleeding cracks.
I look to my ghost, Beni, whose shining blue eye stares at the city below.
“Do you think Savathun is really dead?” he asks. I contemplate this question for a moment. After all we went through, after all we have seen, one could only hope that she would never be a threat again.
But like her brother, I doubt she will fade so easily.
“Not sure” I say, “but she is dead for now. There is still much work to be done before we can think of what ifs.”
Beni looks at me. His black PS-1 shell twists eagerly. That usually means he’s lost in some kind of thought.
Beni rests on my shoulder without another word. I look to my left and see Zavala standing on his perch, as always. I always wonder what he thinks about all day. The past? The future? Savathun and her countless deceptions? Hard to say. His face is more stoic than a statue most days.
My own thoughts are interrupted by the sight of a familiar hunter. He is tall, so tall that he damn near towers over Lord Shaxx. LOoks like he’s turning in the remaining Crucible bounties he finished for the day. His exo arms are bursting from under the tight armor - gauntlets given to him by the former hunter vanguard - Luxe gloves, I think he called them. Paired well with his Raiden Flux.
“Look who rears their pretty little head,” he turns to his left and sees me leaning against the railing on the bridge. “Heard what you did on mars. You should have called the clan for backup.”
I glared. I spent days, even weeks fighting with Savathun. Killing wizards, acolytes, all sorts of hive in her terf.
“You know how I am, Sven. Stubborn.”
“Reckless,” he said curtly. His tone sounded aggravated, huffed. But his bright white eye rings intently studied my face. I stared back. Sven is one of the few Exos I know that wears his emotions on his face. I see fear. Fear and exhaustion. He must have spent days trying to catch up to me. Tracking every lead he could, only to come up empty.
“I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt,” I mumble.
He inched closer and leaned on the railing next to me, his arm lightly brushing against mine. “Not your call to make, V.” He sighs and looks at the Traveler. “You know how Stryker gets when you make him worry. Stresses the rest of us out, too.”
Stryker, the head of our clan, has always had a soft spot for me. We have a complicated past, for lack of a better term. Since the day I joined I’ve always been his shining star and biggest burden. “The Blackbird would fair just fine without me, were anything to happen,” I said flatly.
“Not the point,” he moves his gaze back to me, partially hidden by the hood of his cloak. “ You should talk to him.”
“Sven. I will talk to him when I am ready.” I stand straight and cross my arms.
He scowls. “Your choice,” he shrugs, “but the longer you wait, the worse it will get. Want me to tell him you’re home, at least?”
“Do what you want. I need time to myself before I make an appearance.”
He stares at me for a moment before sighing and taking his leave. His Neoteric Kiyot cloak flowing in the chilly evening breeze, his steps silent, yet his shoulders relaxed, almost slumped into an unhealthy posture, not unlike the carefree and casual Sven I remember. I glance at the nightscape for a while longer; distracting myself with small pleasant daydreams. Each one ends in the same way, The Witness breaking through the sky, bringing only pain and death to my people. My mind shows me impossible yet vivid pictures of hive massacre, worms scattered across the city streets with dead citizens. Blood, blood, blood….
“Perhaps sleep is warranted,” Beni says.
I slowly make my way back to my apartment. I think I’m taking the day off tomorrow.
