You wake up and look into the cold spaces between circuitry (galaxies?) begging for answers. None Come. But others voices wait. At your center, safe and untouched, sits the original you. Just a little box touched at the back of a closet, filled with trinkets and odd notions kept for no obvious reason. You have no idea when you last spoke to this tangle but that's what you do now, using a whisper and the lightest touch, being all sorts of cautious because you're afraid of frightening whatever wants to speak with you. And then it speaks, and instead of answers, it begins with the only question that matters. "Do you want to know what happens next?" Realigning... This one ain't mine. It's someone (something?) else entirely. but it's the most important memory i have.
Cayde-6, written in his copy of Treasure Island, included in Destiny The Taken King Collector’s Edition
