* DO GOOD RECKLESSLY

They stand back-to-back, guns raised, Light growing. Keylime sits in the distance, sniper flicking to cover their backs, while the pair of Awoken take the challenge head-on. It isn’t an easy task they’ve been given; it isn’t fun, to stare down the men who murdered the Hunter Vanguard. But it is one that Julia accepted with sober understanding. They will bring the Barons and Uldren to justice, and they will do so merciless.

And when they are done, Julia will burn the Princeling’s body until there is nothing but ash. She will scatter the charred remains until there is no hope of the Scorn ever reviving him. She will dance on his grave, drink to remember, and kill to forget. There is no other choice.

“On your left!”

The Titan spins with almost inhuman agility, firing off three shots. Her hands are shaking, the fire growing to a gentle crackle, but still the bullets land. Scorn fall at her feet. The bomb above them ticks away. They only have a minute. Only a minute to get rid of the explosive, and still get out with their lives. They can do this.

“Lime, status?” Neptune slides between Julia’s legs, knocking another away with the butt of her gun. Two shots finish it off. “We need sights on Kaniks!”

“Working on it.” The rifle flicks to the side, and the sound of a Screeb exploding rings through the cavern. The bomb above them screeches, then fades into nothing. As hissing fills the air, “Eight o’clock!”

“Fastball!”

That’s her cue.

Dropping her gun, Julia grabs the Hunter by the scruff of her cape and the belt of her pants. Her feet move quickly, dirt and pebbles flying into the air. One, two, three rotations, and-- Neptune flies into the air, shimmering with Solar energy. Six shots echo. Kaniks screams in pain. Julia laughs.

The Hunter lands in her arms, a grin brightening those beautiful eyes, and Julia places her back on the ground. They aren’t out of the woods, not by a long shot, but each bullet they put in his body is a step closer. Blood spilled for Cayde, for vengeance, for the fire burning bright in them all.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you do that kinda shit?”

“Is now really the time to flirt!” Keylime’s voice is frantic as he slides the bolt of his rifle. “We’re kinda busy!”

Right. She can be a useless bisexual later. For now, they have work to do. The Titan trades her handcannon for an exotic auto-rifle and slides in the mag. Authorized mission or not, they will see this through. She will bring the Barons’ heads back to the Tower and hold them proudly for others to see. She will not look at Zavala, see the disappointment in his eyes. She will not think of his last words as she departed, nor the way he refused to look at her. She can’t--

No. No, not now. Deep breath, Julia; raise your gun, find your mark. Now is not the time for hesitation or regrets.

Kaniks leaps from one ledge to another. Their bullets shift with him, and blood sprays. It smells of death; of burnt corpses and a prison she wished she could forget. Her stomach churns. In the midst of the chaos, the Mad Bomber laughs.

Friend Cayde? No fun to play with! No fun at all. Such a boring boy to kill, kill, KILL!

“Julia!”

“I’m fine.”

She’s not. Light knows she’s not, but she’s trying. The fire within wants to be released, to rage and consume, to steal away the life of all around her. She cannot allow that. If it was just her in this place, perhaps; perhaps she would risk her life, her Light, for that. But her fireteam is here, as well, and they are far too important to lose to rage. She will lose no one else.

The rifle vibrates in her hands. Bullets fly, heels digging into the ground for support. She will not allow herself a moment of supernova, but a cannonball? Oh, now that sounds wonderous. Solar energy flares as she summons forth her grenade and lobs it at the nearest group of Scorn. The flash of heat warms her skin. It does little for the rage within.

Focus, girl, she thinks, and glances briefly over at her fireteam. They’re holding their own. Focus on the enemy, on the monster that took Cayde from you. From the Guardians, from the Light, from the world itself. Zavala may not approve, but it is what needs to be done.

A familiar scream pierces the air, and Julia whirls. She cares nothing for the Screebs behind her, the acid tearing at her back. Bright eyes instead search the sniper’s perch, desperate. She’s already lost one. She’s already lost so many. She can’t lose him, too; not her brother.

“Lime?”

“I’m fine!” The tip of his rifle peaks from around a boulder, levels once more. It does little to ease the tendrils encircling her heart. “Just a potshot. Pie’s taking care of it now.”

“Be safe.” It’s whispered as, once more, Julia turns to the carnage. She trades out her mags, presses her back to Neptune’s and fires off three more shots. Something flickers in the corner of her vision. “Watch your two, Nep. Blue smoke.”

Kaniks laughs, the sound echoing all around her, as he materializes once more.

Cayde beg and beg and beg! Mercy, ah! Mercy, please, Prince Uldren! Oh, pretty, pretty please, oh, please!

It is too much.

The scream that comes from her is inhuman, feral and terrifying. It tears through her throat, ripping from her lungs until there is nothing left. The fire burns from within, swelling, threatening to consume her. And, for the first time in her young life, Julianna Vesh allows it. Her hammer materializes, fingers curling instinctively, as she runs forward. Behind her, she can hear Neptune screaming, but can understand none of it. All she knows, all she understands, in that moment is the pure, unadulterated rage rushing through her.

The world moves too fast, and yet not fast enough.

She leaps into the air, and the fire arches to meet her.

Scorn rush to block her path, but there is nothing they can do. All who approach scream, bodies writhing as the flames take them. She cares not. They are nothing but pawns, but stepping stones to the real monster. They are ash beneath her feet.

The strength of a lion beats within her breast, its roar coming from her lips as she brings the hammer down. There is no throwing, not light-hearted tossing. For Julia, her super had always been something of a game; a moment to revel in the love and Light in her heart. She’d laughed through the fire, danced with the flames. And when she was done with it all, she’d toss her fireteam a thumbs up and keep moving.

But not this time.

Both hands grip the hammer as she brings it down, again and again, into Kaniks’ face, shoulders, back-- whatever she can reach. Whatever will cause the most damage. Blood sprays, and the flames lick it up. Devour, consume; a wildfire, burning bright. She will hurt him, just as he has hurt her. She will destroy him, just as he did her family.

The smoke begins to swirl again, but Julia is too far lost. She reaches out, grabbing his belt, and pulls herself to him. Their screams merge, twisting together in an macabre dance, as she feels her body being split in every direction. The ground beneath her shifts, her stomach churning. But despite the pain, she does not let go.

She’s felt worse.

Cayde murder Eliksni. Think you different? Think you--

“Shut the fuck up!”

Later, Neptune will tell her how her flames burned blue, how the smoke and heat seemed to consume them both. Lime will refuse to meet her eyes, but mention the way her fingers dug into the Bomber’s skull. It will sound nothing like the woman Julia Vesh knows she is, and yet the satisfying emptiness in her stomach will tell the story.

She takes his head in her hands, a disturbing twist on a usually comforting embrace. Her legs wrap around his middle, even as he screams and writhes. Try to dislodge me, she seems to say. You will not escape. I will show you no mercy.

Though the Titan is small, there is considerable strength behind her grasp. Adrenaline pounds in her head, rage burning in her heart. With all the might she has in her, Julia squeezes. What little flesh remains beneath her flames gives way. Something cracks beneath her touch. Kaniks screams. He screams of Cayde, of heroics, of Uldren, but she does not care. She does not stop.

The pressure finally gives, and Julia’s hands meet in the center of his head. Blood and gore are consumed by the flames as both fall to the ground. And there, sitting on the Mad Bomber’s chest, she raises clenched fists. Once, twice, thrice, the Titan brings them down. Ribs crack, flesh burns, but the fire is satiated. What was once a supernova becomes little more than a simmer. Footsteps approach.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until Neptune pulls her from the charred corpse.