sheikh pariah

Outer Sol Inquiry & Recovery Intelligence System

STATUS :: [[DISABLED]]

>>>CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE

OVERRIDE :: ARCHIVE

>>>ENCOUNTER [[DATA CORRUPT]]

ARTIFACT RETURNED :: WARNING

OVERRIDE :: LOG

[[ 1 ENTRY ]]

Space was something Damion always found hauntingly beautiful. He had spent most of his risen life out in the dark void of it by himself at this point. He had grown accustom to its cycles, the solar winds, the stretching blanket of nothing, he grew accustom to being alone. He had half a thought to ignore the coin when it began to hum. Lulling its song of opportunity to anyone who was within ear shot. He had given its twin away centuries ago, fate never had them cross paths again. But now the coin sang for its counter, and he was afraid of what was left. 

Soul searching is what he called it back then, when they asked him to join the City back before there was really anything. He was there, just not one of them. Keep to his own devices, help where he saw fit, and carry on. Was back when he had a Ghost as well, now he was in some limbo of the living dead, reforged on the other side of the war. That’s when he gave away the coin, the only Guardian he could trust to still see, and the only one who would understand when to use it. How they both prayed it would never be used. Damion stretched, snatching the coin from where it sat on the console of his ship. Flicking it to let the cold metal sing, syncing with its long lost twin. 

Earth was a risk, this close to the City was even bigger of one. The Awoken knew something was wrong before he even landed in the clearing. Sticking to the shadows as he navigated the old town, he couldn’t quite help the smile as he heard the other’s voice. “Don’t need my help, you want my help. Dangerous times we’re in, you have to be sure of that.” He said moving forward offering his hand. 

“Life is a cruel mistress ‘Siris, that doesn’t change with immortality. Death is unforgiving, and that doesn’t change with infinity.” He could feel it, the lack of Light in the Warlock before him. Osiris’ energy used to blaze off him like the sun itself; now it felt cold, weak, like a small flame of a candle struggling in a storm. “Before you ask, as a friend, there is no going back from this path. Vengeance and rage are powerful, sorrow is blinding… is it worth it?” 

“Always a step ahead... you know then? I’m on my final life, Sagira is gone.” His voice remains low and even, he’s gone numb to this fact. Repeated enough to himself that the words have lost meaning to him. Yet he steps forward taking the offered hand, returning the coin. “I’m not seeking power, Damion, only clarity.” The words themselves sit a bit heavy in his mouth, not quiet a lie but not a full truth either. He was looking for clarity, but he was never one to sit idly by. 

Crossing his arms over his chest he hesitated on his next words. Damion could always just decline, leaving him with nothing, and he was in no state to give chase or make demands. “You remember the original visions I told you, before all this-” Osiris turned gesturing back to the City with a swift movement of his arm, standing aside. “The Pyramid over it in the Traveler’s place? The nothingness, the cold dead weight of space, decay and death... They’re images, flashes of moments. They’ve only been getting worse, you understand?” Desperate is the only thing that came to mind then, he hated how he sounded, the vulnerability. 

He had to be vulnerable, its the only time they listen.   

Ruins covered by nature’s wrath were a welcome cover, especially right now. Had taken some persuasion to be able to escape the City. Becoming Ghostless had gotten more unwanted eyes on him. Questions whispered and echoing about what now? There was no answer, and still his mind rejected the full reality of it. He needed answers now, a direction, a guide to where the void was pulling him. 

The visions were unrelenting, the whispers still haunting the quiet moments of his days and nights. Wasn’t a future he ever wanted to see come to be, but there was no going back now. He stood in the ruins of the old town overlooking a cliff side, could just see the City walls in the distance the Traveler floating protective over them. Yet his faith felt more waned then it did during his exile. 

Osiris rolled a coin between his fingers, the cool dark metal giving a faint hum vibrating as it lands in his palm. The energy it radiated was one all too familiar now as Guardians returned from their expeditions of Europa. The coin was a relic, and only now did he truly know its origin. Now when he needed it the most, and his vulnerability made it answer.

"Darkness. The thing with Darkness is it had always been there, alongside the Light. Festering within its gifts, its power, its Golden Age. A concept made into two living gods, good versus evil. A constant fight and chase. With all that power you can't change what a man thinks of himself. If man believes himself to be a God, then the Darkness already won. 

Death was the only true truth to the Darkness, has always been that way. Greed, gluttony, pride… they always lead to someone's death. He was merely a machine then, serving masters far beyond his comprehension. A pinnacle point in exploration and colonization of the Golden Age. A machine with coding designed by some of the brightest minds of the time. A scientist, an astronomer, a prophet. 

Phoenix's Ashes;; Current time line, mostly following current/in-game happenings and lore.

Mind Over Gods;; Alt timeline where exile was never lifted and Osiris never left the Forest.

The Fallen One;; Dark Guardian/Dredgen alt time line ft hive corruption.