((This hits me with some inspiration, and I’d thought about doing this big long written arc where I make chapters of the Red War for each character, but I think I’ll just stick to writing out short scenes as the mood strikes me. This blog’s... Kinda dead anyhow. Didn’t get much interaction, as I’m convinced a lot of people lurked rather than interact. ANYWAY, here goes: this is after Breaker secures his Light on Titan, at least a source of Light: the Void Light of the Sentinel known only as “Nate.” Bonus points if you can draw the connection there! Enjoy!
The rains in Titan were frustrating. It was always raining. The water seeped into everything, and it made shelters impossible to power. The civilians though... They managed to keep everything together thanks to Breaker-77. The Exo Titan recovered some semblance of sanity, some kind of idea as to what he was and who he was going to be. The Golden Age Heister, the Hivebane, Breaker-77. He had been told by Zavala that they needed to find Cayde, and that the only transmission he’d received was that Cayde was on Nessus. Simple enough. Breaker and Cayde agreed on more things than they’d both like to admit: both were former criminals.
But Breaker was more concerned about Alice.
Alice was by far the most unique member of the Fireteam known as Catastrophe, and Breaker knew it. She wasn’t some Golden Age corpse that was resurrected, she was an Awoken from a dead timeline created by the Vex, somehow having fallen out of the gates and stealing a hand cannon from Henry to survive. Her Ghost was Henry’s girlfriend’s, or... Was it? Breaker knew. He also knew that Alice was a fucking monster, and without her Light she was four times as dangerous. Just like Breaker, she knew how to fight and terrorize and slaughter without it.
It came naturally to her, and Breaker knew it. He chased the signal on Nessus, coming into contact with a defunct AI that insisted on calling itself Failsafe and sending him around the planetoid. He didn’t care, he needed Cayde to talk about Alice.
“So, Cayde?”
“What’s up my bank robbing friend? You’re... Getting me out right?”
“Where’s Alice?”
“You can’t be serious?”
“Tell me. Now.”
“Oh my cotton socks! You gotta be ki-”
And Cayde was gone further into the Vex networks. Easy enough to fix, Breaker just needed to find the vault and crack it. He entered the networks himself, eager to break them apart one at a time. And he did so. Vex screamed as he approached, their forms different somehow. As he traveled through simulation after simulation, he felt his Ghost sputter something and vanish. He panicked initially, but then calmed himself, and walked to a mirror.
This reflection was strange, as Vex didn’t quite like mirrors. After some posing, Breaker took a moment to realize it wasn’t a reflection. He stared at another version of himself: with a book on his hip and a scimitar in his hands.
A scimitar?
The Exos looked at one another. Heads tilted, making strange gestures. Breaker reached out to touch the reflection, and their hands met. The Vex simulation turned red, screaming. The two Breakers collided into one another, and for a brief moment... There were two voices in one head.
Who are you?
“Breaker-77, the Wandering Spellblade!”
No, I’m Breaker-77, the Golden Age Heister and Godslayer.
“Well, we share that last title. Are you... Me?”
Both voices would say in unison: “Ploughin’ Vex,” then there would be a silence. Vex forms began to form, and the Breakers came apart to reach for different weapons. The Vex screamed, and the simulation ripped apart again. Both Exos, side-by-side.
“Follow my moves!” the Guardian spat, and he drew an auto-rifle.
“Can’t do that,” the Wandering Spellblade responded, and drew a scimitar that he charged with what looked like... Magic?
“Fine!” the Guardian shouted, “Then I can do magic shit too,”
The Guardian conjured the Sentinel shield, and the two used their weapons to fight back an endless surge of Vex. Nothing seemed to break the tide. But, the Guardian saw his counterpart. Steps were measured, the breathing even seemed to be something done with years of practice. The Spellblade jumped, rolling sideways through the air to land and pirouette the blade through several Vex. He spun it around him, catching Vex weaponry and launching it into the air before discharging electricity from his blade. The Vex exploded, radiolarian fluid oozing everywhere.
The Spellblade watched his counterpart, seeing the Guardian become a battering ram, that moved and flowed through the combat. Each slam and throw of the shield took more forms, cascading in destruction. Where the Spellblade was a dance of death, of grace and focus, the Guardian was a brutal fight to the death. Standing to the last, being a wall that constantly expanded and created a circle within which not even a shattered Vex part escaped into.
Both made a misstep, at the same time.
The Spellblade’s scimitar skittered across the room to land at the Guardian’s feet, and the shield flew out once too far and bounced comically in front of the Spellblade.
“Do you believe in anything, Spellblade?”
“The Dawnflower, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her,” the Spellblade walked slowly to the Shield, watching the Vex puzzle at this strange interaction.
“Could you plead to her? My Light, the Traveler... Is a little indisposed.”
The Spellblade began to recite a prayer. The Guardian did the same. The Spellblade’s sheath produced a flaming scimitar, radiant and glorious, that blinded the Guardian for a moment. The shield snapped to the Spellblade, floating by him without him needing to hold it. Both the Spellblade’s hands were on the hilt of the scimitar, which was held to his temple with raised arms. The tip aimed at the Vex, the Guardian recognized the stance as one Lord Shaxx had used: it would focus on ripostes and parries unless the enemy was too wild or vicious to need one, in which case it could easily turn into a flowing combat style that lent itself to an absurd dexterity.
The Guardian snatched the scimitar at his feet, and he felt lightning surge through him. He mimicked the movements he’d seen, and noticed with a sideways glance that the Spellblade added force to his dance. The shield would be grabbed at certain points, and slammed down into a Vex Goblin. A Minotaur tried to punch him, only to be parried by the shield and the flaming scimitar cooked away the bronze of the Vex form.
The pair of Breakers continued their dance, moving back and forth to both carve large circles into the Vex that continued to arrive. It seemed there was no end, but... The Guardian and Spellblade both incorporated new tricks. They felt a new piece of power enter their bodies. Breaker surged with electricity, the Arc Light he’d thought he would never see again... It grew! It became...
The Guardian discharged a blast of Arc energy through the scimitar, then became engulfed in it to bring about a Fist of Havoc that obliterated a Hydra.
The Spellblade launched the shield, and twirled as he lowered his body to the ground, slicing two Minotaurs and countless Goblins about as he kept in pace with the Shield.
The Spellblade’s flaming scimitar launched flames about the room, and the Guardian felt Light in them! Good, positive Light! It energized him, fueled him, and the Vex began to sputter and shake.
“It’s time to bail,” the Spellblade shouted, pointing to a gate on the Guardian’s side, “There’s a gate on my side! Say, you ever meet an Ephras in your timeline?”
“You ever fight next to a Henry?”
“Kinda?”
“You’d get along!” Both said in unison. They threw their weapons back to one another, and carved their way to respective Vex gates. The Guardian and Spellblade hesitated, looking back to one another for just a moment. One moment, where they felt as if time had stopped.
Breaker broke from the moment and fell. The Guardian was back on Nessus, in front of the ruins of the Exodus Black. A Fallen Captain charged him, swinging its right arms to punch him in his face. It got him good, and he felt his world spin. He stood up, recognizing the Captain.
[Breaker-77, Kell of House of Thieves! I remember you!] The Captain laughed heartily, [Your fists were match for Baron of House Winter, but they will not be a match for me. I challenge you, for Kell!]
“Then toss me a blade, let’s dance.”
The Captain laughed, tossing Breaker an old, battered longsword with a handguard that pointed towards the tip of the blade with both ends. He saw strange glyphs carved into it, and a weird medallion dangling off it. The medallion looked similar to a woman, her arms outstretched as a radiant sunburst pattern emanated from above her arms. He took the medallion from it, and put it around his own neck. The Captain laughed as Breaker held the hilt to his face, point aimed at the Fallen.
[You face me like that? One blade held to parry? You are no dancer, Guardian! I know your fighting style, yo-]
Breaker had sprinted with lightning at his heels, jumped, rolled sideways, and brought the blade straight down through the Captain’s skull. Falling apart in two halves, the Captain ceased to be. The Dregs and Vandals panicked, charging. The Exo used his force to dance: the blade was heavier than it probably should’ve been, which helped. The Guardian mimicked the movements he’d seen in the Vex... Simulation? Or was it... It had to have been a simulation.
As Breaker continued to fight his way into the Exodus Black, to the place where he believed he’d sent Cayde in his mad dash through Vex networks he couldn’t recall beyond that strange encounter, he found another Captain pinning something down behind a pipe. The Exo finished his dance with a spinning pirouette, one feinting swing to disarm the Captain of his Shrapnel Launcher, and then a reverse of that spinning motion to cleave the Eliksni in half. It gasped in surprise, and all Breaker could understand was a simple phrase:
[Sword Dancer.]
Cayde poked his head out of cover, and stayed silent for a moment.
“Did... Do... You need to talk about anything with me?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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“Oh my god!” She yelled out, trying her best to move the door out of the way so she could check over the man she had smashed the door into. Hazard had heard music coming down the way, wanting to know what it was, she stepped outside, or tried too. She figured it was just a couple of boxes in the way, and not, oh god, another guardian.
“Are you okay?” Her hands were held out in case he fell over her.
((STARTED WRITING ANOTHER EPISODE AND THERE’S NO TRIGGERING STUFF BUT IT GETS FEELSY AS FUCK ONCE SOME IMPLICATIONS SINK IN))
((AND OKAY YEA I THINK I’M GONNA PLAY “THE DUBIOUS TASKS PT1″ AS EPISODE 2 BEFORE I PUT THAT TRAIN ON THE TRACKS because damn son where’d you find this?!))
((STATIC IS A BAD THING FOR ME TO USE BECAUSE EMOTIONAL TRAUMA))
((EPISODE 1 will be going on YouTube shortly after I get home!))
((But, I’m wanting a bit of input. I’m gonna be making some episodes but due to a plot element the order is a little up in the air, and I’m really curious what order you guys would like. Would like to hear “The Dubious Tasks” series before we go into Fireteam Catastrophe’s first big arc, so you guys get to see the characters as they are in the ask responses, or do you want the linear timeline?))
((You all are lovely, btw, for even reading this <3 ))
((Because I’m making a podcast for Fireteam Catastrophe! I’m gonna start with “Beginnings - the Return of Breaker-77″ and have a sort of introduction to who Breaker is.))
((Don’t worry, everyone’s favorite space-nerd [Henry] will make an appearance and it’ll transition to be more about the pop-punk posterchild.))
((This is a school project, and I’m gonna redo the “The Dubious Tasks“ things to be MUCH more polished. Ideally, I’ll be able to get in the swing of things with a short radio-drama of how Fireteam Catastrophe came to include the three dorks pictured. It’s gonna be extremely fun!))
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askfireteamcatastrophe: ☾ - (You can take your pick!)
{I’ll go with Henry, he sounds interesting}
Laine often found herself unable to sleep. Unless she was completely exhausted, she’d often be found wandering the Tower barefoot at night, making her way to the courtyards of the Tower to watch the City or stare up at the stars. Plagued by insomnia and nightmares, it was a far too common sight to see the Warlock awake very late.
She made her way to one of the more secluded courtyards, wearing a nightdress and an outer robe. She blinked when she saw that it was now empty as it usually was at this hour. “Hello?” she asked the other, who appeared to be a human male.
"No matter what, you are going to be the reason we make it out of the Vault."
Familiar words. Powerful words. Alice, an Awoken Hunter, was meditating quietly while under the cover of shadows. The crates of rotten food were all that kept her from the swarms of Thrall around her, and if she wasn't meditating she probably would be tempted to scream. She focused on the world around her, the minutia of everything around her. The scent of the uneaten rations, the clicking noises of the Thrall milling about, and the groan of humans that were no longer just that.
As she focused, she realized that the lead that put her here could have been a plant. A trap, to pull more Guardians to their deaths. Toland's Journal, however useful, was a mythical piece of history. Not her history, but history nonetheless. It was a tome of unspeakable secrets, hidden knowledges, and dark admissions to deeds too dark for even the Traveler to purify. Alice had been tasked with hunting it down, returning it to the Vanguard, and allowed to piece together a hungry pulse rifle. The weapon had been sated, but it wasn't finished. She needed one last fragment of the journal, a page on a binding ritual that would lock the journal in place. It needed to be recovered, so that the journal would stay in Vanguard hands and never taint the minds of others again. She had located and secured the journal, and thus her mission was complete, but she didn't quite have an exit plan. After she snagged it, the Hive in this structure were horribly aware of her presence. The exits were barricaded, the only way out was through them and with blasting devices she didn't have. She had decided that she would go down swinging.
Strangely enough, this wasn't too unlike the gig that landed her with her current companions.
In complete silence, she willed her Ghost to her hand. The meditation had been enough to calm her nerves, to focus on the task at hand. She needed to kill these Hive, free the captors and converts from the mortal coil, and get out of here alive. There was a task that needed to be accomplished first: she needed help. With a nod, Alice's Ghost hovered away from her. If she died, it would be too occupied signalling for help to get her. She had been, while still in stealth, been reconfiguring the outpost's communication tower. The Hive had, in a stroke of genius, disconnected the tower to prevent any calls for help from escaping. They had solidified their grip on the outpost, slowly converting the people there to their sick abominations with various forms of sorcery.
Space magic, Alice rolled her eyes. Lights came on in the building, and the cacophony of a siren filling her ears through her helmet. She donned the Mask of the Third Man, and drew her knife. There was one way she was going to survive, and that was through tooth, claw, and clever knifeplay. I'll rely mostly on the knifeplay, she smirked as surging electricity filled her suit's systems. The unstable current making jolts of energy from her to the walls.
She danced out from cover, bring a knife through the skull of a Thrall. An Abomination roared in fury, the human features contorted into a terrible chimera of human and Thrall. Inky black ooze flowed from its eyes, but Alice had a knife and it had fists. She'd carve out the Hive from her foe, and hope that in death her former ally in Light would be free. A slide, a lunge, and a separation of flesh created a dazzling display of arc energy as she sprinted through the halls. As she danced, she felt the world slowing. Time seemed to become a minor problem, hordes of Hive ceasing to exist before her. Their days were numbered, each countdown approaching zero as her knife approached their forms. Slashes, dances, spins, kicks, everything coming through to make her seem to be a blur of electric purpose.
At the peak of her bliss, Alice felt a force impact her chest and spiraled her inot a ceiling light. She hit the ground with a crack as her electric tango ended, the modules in place to cause it deactivating. She had run out of victims, her show was over. This new monster stood before her, its tall silhouette blocking her view. It grabbed her by the cloak, and threw her across the room. She slammed into a computer terminal, and braced her weight on one arm as she attempted to recover. She heard the dragging of a sword, only to see the feet of the massive Knight. It was probably a sergeant to this area, assigned to cover it in case of some psychotic Hunter, such as Alice, feeling too confident in their abilities.
"So you're telling me that Alice is in Mare Frigoris? Alone?" Henry asked, his gifted Monte Carlo sitting on the dashboard of his ship. A map of the moon was sprawled about the controls, hiding the function of several screens and dozens of switches. Henry Gordon, the esteemed "Pop-punk Posterchild," puzzled over the map and known Hive locations.
"Basically. Zavala told me that the outpost she was sent to hit had a remnant of Toland's Journal. Whoever the Hell that is, Zavala said it was bad. She has just sent out an SOS, and backlogged transmissions of Hive activity are hitting the Tower's comm lines like a bus," Breaker-77 spoke. His voice was smoky, thick like there was the after-effect of a cigar puff in his throat at all times.
"We have to go get her."
"Excuse me?!"
"What, the big-bad bank robber is scared of the Hive?"
"No, I'm afraid that Mare Frigoris is actually cold." The tone was said flatly, in a poor communication of sarcasm. However, Henry had learned to pick up on it. Breaker's angry resting face seemed even more so when he was being sarcastic.
"It'll be a good ol' fashioned jailbreak."
"I was a relatively successful bank rob-"
"That's why you're Breaker-77, right?"
"You're a dirty bastard."
"As long as you admit your faults, I'll admit mine. Besides, what better way to test out our new toys? Congrats on finding that Regime, by the way! Those things are hard to come by. I'll cherish my gift forever."
"The Monte Carlo is a very rare showpiece, I hope you don't plan to-"
"I do plan to use it in every situation ever. Short of Crucible, of course, where I'm looking to use this Thorn I got."
"You do realize that we spent eighteen hours in that pit waiting for the guy?"
"Yes. We're going to climb down another one, conquer your fear of Hive, and punch whatever's got Alice in its throat."
It grabbed her by the shoulder, and with a bit of juggling snatched her by the throat. Holding her from the floor, she looked it in the eyes. It seemed to be offended by her mask, enough so to scream in her face. The spittle covered her visor, to which she laughed.
"What, did I hurt your feelings?"
She bore a combat knife from a shoulder holster, and planted it in the monster's forearm. It screamed and let her go, the massive chunk of ascendant steel jutting from both ends of its arm. She tackled the monster, drawing her trusty sidearm and lodging bullets from The Last Word into its chest. Fanning the trigger was a rush of endorphins, a victory over the future. Time itself couldn't outdo this tried-and-true method of firing downrange. Alice was one for style, but she only used the kinds she felt were superior. The creature swung its sword, the broadside making a blunt impact into her shoulder and knocking The Last Word from her hands.
She looked up, sufficiently disarmed save for her Efrideet's Spear. It wouldn't do the work she needed at this moment, so she was effectively screwed. As she put her arms up to hopefully block the sword from bisecting her, she heard a shout and the swishing noise of a Nova Bomb soaring through the air:
"It's never too late, to keep your head straight!!" Alice looked to the source, and saw the familiar robes of a Warlock. She was relieved, for the first time in a while, to see Henry Gordon. "Move your hands back and forth in perfect symmetry, so you can live like a time-bomb," his singing accentuated arcane gestures and axion seekers filling the room, "That doesn't have long!"
Alice saw that a mass of Thrall and Abominations surged into the Vortex of his Nova Bomb, and noticed an obsidian helmet upon the skull of her companion. The axions rushed from their deaths and into a swirling aura around the Voidwalker.
"Go down in history!" Another Nova Bomb surged from his hands, this one shattering. One made impact with the Knight, while the other two separated into doorways and detonated into dozens of Thrall each. A shielded blur of motion ran to Henry, who spun out of the way to allow a Titan to leap from the ground and deploy a Fist of Havoc through a wall. The thing came down, ash and dust revealing electricity surging around him and detonating hundreds of monsters. Orbs of Light flew about the room, and Alice snatched one to recover. The mechanisms in her suit cooperated with the Mask, her breath returning to normal. She watched the Knight turn to the defiant Warlock, and swing at his hip. In an instant, he vanished. Alice smirked as he appeared behind the behemoth, slapping its arm with a discharge of void energy. The sword arm fell from the shoulder, dropping the blade to the ground. Henry leaped, snatching it. He put a black and orange shotgun to the Knight's face, it barking in defiance of its existence. Alice recognized it with awe: the Invective.
"Breaker, catch!" Henry shouted, the blade spinning to Breaker. In an uncharacteristic display of dexterity, Breaker snatched it from the air and let forth a mighty slam of energy from it. The blade shattered, a shockwave echoing through the chamber and plowing into a tunnel. The Hive were coming from that hole, with Shredder rounds leaving the cavern into the building. Alice sprinted, spinning a flaming gun from her hip and to bear. She pointed it down the tunnel, and as she lined the dots to aim the weapon she held eye contact with a Wizard.
"No matter what, you are going to be the reason we make it out of the Vault." She heard the voice of a lover who didn't exist in this timeline, knowing that she was the only reason their names were even recorded at the Tower. Her finger tightened around the trigger, and her aim held true. It always did.
Three shots left her Golden Gun, the report echoing down the hallway. The shots detonated the Hive, knocking loose a pillar of stone that was wedged into supporting the tunnel. It collapsed, sealing the hole from the Hive. She stood proud, watching the rocks fall into place. She looked back, watching Breaker empty rounds from his Hard Light into several remaining Thrall, and smiled. Alice wondered how the Tower she knew was faring for a brief moment, but it quickly faded. After all that happened to get her here, Alice knew that she made it out of the Vault alive. Her old fireteam, where ever they ended up when the dust settled, were likely smiling with her.
"Henry Gordon, you stand for something imm-" Ikora began to shout at an particularly obnoxious Warlock, only to catch herself repeating what she had been told many times before. Thinking back to those early years, she couldn't help but laugh inwardly.
I can hear your thoughts, y'know, Henry's voice whispered in her mind.
"Yes, quite. You know, you remind me of someone I used to know."
Yourself?
"You're going to get out of my head, unless you enjoy being revived by your Ghost in the Tower."
Henry sheepishly grinned, the young Warlock dismissing his Ghost before grabbing a broom. He swept the remnants of the prior night's show, having played lead guitar for a local band of Guardians. Ikora had yet to show any approval at all, which was part of what made Henry's neck ignite with terror.
That, Henry nervously wondered, And the fact she probably could melt me into the aether.
As Ikora sternly watched him sweep trash into bins, and wake up hungover patrons, Henry Gordon couldn't help but feel like there was an ulterior motive to all of this. She stood patiently, as if musing on something while he swept.
"If this is the part where we start writing songs together," he began, "I'm gonna have to decline the off-"
"Oh, shut up," Ikora rolled her eyes, "I have a task for you."
"Please keep all innuendo and dirty thoughts about me inside the head at all times," he laughed, regretting quite a bit as she glared through his soul. "Uh... I was meaning that to those ladies over there," he pointed behind Ikora, his smile becoming so sheepish he could have grown wool.
"As if!" a feminine voice replied with fire.
"They dig me,"
"You are probably one of the unruliest Warlocks I've had the displeasure to train. But you're going to be put to a test, a challenge if you will."
"Oh?"
"I want to put your borderline relentless personality to work on a personal project. I want you to do five Vanguard strikes, without a single instance of you dying. Cause some trouble for me."
"Wait," Henry shook his head before cocking an eyebrow, "You want me to cause trouble? When do I wake up?"
"In a few days, if you don't stop sassing me."
Henry chuckled, "Surely that can't be it, five strikes without dying?"
"Let's be specific. I want you to take down that Nexus Mind we found the other day."
"Sekrion?"
"Of course. He has flown into the timestreams every time the Vanguard run the strike on him, and even when we set a bounty on him. Your... Knowledge of the Vex makes you extremely well-suited to killing him for good."
"My 'knowledge' of a lot of things makes me well-suited to killing said lot of things, but I see your point. He's the one that runs under the Ishtar, correct?"
"Yes."
"How about I forgo the 'five strikes' business, and meet your bet."
"This isn't a be-"
"I'll take him down alone."
Henry would regret that statement the most, of all things, as he now stomped through the dirt on Venus. His spells were wearing him thin, his weapons jamming once in a few encounters. Having cleared through several Servitors, many Minotaurs, and grouped Goblins, Henry was tired of alliteration, robots, and slap rifles.
Of all the things I hate right now, he sighed as he peered off a cliff, It's the heights.
Henry put a foot up, and with a wave of his hands was at the bottom of the drop. A cloud of purple motes created a line, tracing a shortcut he had created between the molecules. It saved his kneecaps a bit of stress, and made him feel quite proud, as well.
As he landed, he felt a pang of something. His mind was put to a dead stop, as if it was expecting input. He was confused, looking to where he felt the existence of another. A human was there, he felt a connection to the human. It was a Warlock, he knew it by the remnants of a thought. He focused on it, the telepathic equivalent to white-noise filling his mind. It was like what he had felt weeks prior, when he was at a coffee shop he never remembered finding. He thought on the previous encounters of this white noise, mentally putting the puzzle together. It produced a word, one that perplexed him even further:
Henry.
What did that mean? Why was it that the remnants of thought all added up to say his name? The world seemed incomplete momentarily, and the sensation faded shortly thereafter. A strange, sinister silence filled the place of the white noise. He likened it to the illusion of voices, when one could barely hear noise outside of their door. There were more words in this white noise, but the meaning couldn't be deciphered due to interference. This was a confusing moment, as he had heard this white noise on some nights when he went to bed, feeling tugged by an unknown sensation to leave the company of his companions for his ship. A ship that, for reasons unknown to him, had a bed for two...
The Warlock shook his head. He realized where he was, and what he was betting Ikora for. The circular room held his prey: Sekrion, the Nexus Mind. While he was lost in thought, the monster had assembled and presented itself before him. Like an animal trapped in a corner, it stared at him. He made what he felt was eye-contact with the machine, and it made a rattling cry of what was, to an untrained mind, a battlecry.
But, after having produced the noise in several other Vex prior, he knew what it was. It translated to a human as a release of adrenaline, a bit of pheromones, and in rare cases a mild paralysis.
Fear.
Henry's fingers danced, and the many arms on Sekrion's chassis began to do the same. A shield was produced on the creature's back side, and Henry figured out that the shield was rotating. What an ineffective shield, he smiled inwardly, Shame.
As he leaped into the air, his dancing palms let loose a blast of void. The vortex from his Nova Bomb ate at the Mind, its roaring becoming much louder. The crackling of electricity filled Henry's ears, and he turned to the swarm of Vex spawning behind him. Taking a shotgun from his back, he pointed it into a Goblin's core and pulled the trigger. The buckshot penetrated the machinery, blasting another Goblin. Swinging around, Henry used the disarray of the Vex to drop an Axion Seeker at his feet, the pulse tagging Vex and dissipating them into nonexistence.
Reflexively, he reached his hands out to a Hobgoblin. He felt the strings that held its physical form to reality, and with a tug he had broken them. Its energies flowing to him, he channeled them into another Nova Bomb. Bringing his Vanquisher VIII to bear, he lined up the weapon with several more Vex. He wondered: were they fearful of this, or just confused?
Thinking on the first movements of his fight, he realized just exactly the course of action. He needed to let a little steam off, and do so with style. That'd be how Ikora would've liked to see, right? She wanted him to cause trouble.
And trouble he would cause!
"Ladies and Gentleman open up your eyes and ears and listen up! Listen up!
Calling all cars! Calling all cars! Calling all cars!
Let’s put an end to the Charade.
Show me what you’re living for.
You think it’s obvious, you’re so oblivious.
I spit my teeth out on the floor.
Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know!"
Singing the lyrics to a song that existed before the Golden Age, he worked the ancient machines with a power only he could summon. The void spells he dumped around this impromptu mosh pit dotted the area in axions. His eyes aglow, even through his Apotheosis Veil, he danced with his shotgun and auto rifle. The bullets accentuating his actions, serving as the drumline of a song as the arcing of electricity and void damage served as bass, rhythm, and lead guitars. The Voidwalker supplied the vocals, his power surges creating a conduit from his mind to reality. It allowed him to be his own support vocals, which he enjoyed quite heartily.
"I breathe revenge tonight. It never taste so sweet.
And baby, if I choke things down for a second
then maybe I can starve this tragedy.
Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know!"
After that verse, Henry teleported to the Mind. He gave it a good slap before leaping through a rift and into cover. The noise it created was a howl of fury, summoning more Vex. His Ghost began to speak, only to be interrupted with more singing. Singing that, due to a long history of being ignored, the Ghost had learned to quit complaining about.
"So get your story straight
I can think of one reason for you to call home tonight
If I had my way you would find out the hard way
Causing trouble is my business and the business is good
So now I’m calling all cars! Calling all cars! Calling all cars!
It’s time to show your battle scars.
And let you know that I’ll be coming back for more!"
Standing tall, he met Minotaur and Goblin alike with shotgun, Energy Drain, and auto rifle. Leaning in and out of fire, Henry continued his song. He let loose one last Nova Bomb, only to be grabbed out of the air by a Minotaur and thrown into the open. The room grew quiet for a moment, Henry shakily standing up and slowly recovering the wind that escaped his chest. His eyes took on a brighter glow, his bond lighting aflame and his voice becoming more and more furious as the radiance of the Sun thickened his skin and triggered healing mechanisms in his Apotheosis Veil.
"I’ll let you know that I’ll be coming back for more
It’s too late for me, Kid
These words are too true!
When your heart beats only lies, you’re dead inside!"
A fusion grenade stuck to the Minotaur's faceplate, its screaming being drowned out in the following shouts of the Pop-Punk Posterchild:
"And God forbid when you find yourself off and remembering on,
And God forbid when you can’t find the swear in the words
To a song, but it’s too late to see me through, Kid!"
He rushed the Minotaur, tackling it and presenting it a fist full of hellfire. Bouncing back, the solar energy created a shield around Henry. He charged into a gathering of Goblins, taking limbs from torsos and using them as improvised weapons. The ignited maelstrom of Sunsinging and Vex caused an echoing cascade of Vex cries, all of them trying to stop the maddened Guardian.
But, as he repeated the second verse once more, they thinned and eventually were a pile of scrap parts and axiomatic beads. The Radiance ended, Henry's eyes returning to a purple glow before he leaped into the air. Repeating it once more, the Nexus Mind finally pieced together a mystery it had been tasked to discover, in regards to this particular Warlock.
Henry Gordon's spells used the music as a verbal component.
All the axions and ashes left scattered about the arena were slowly being pulled toward the Nexus Mind, it being too distracted by the Warlock's crazed fighting to realize. As Henry made one last hand gesture, which was too obscene to describe, the Nexus Mind ignited in flames and what parts of it began to turn white with Vex teleportation changed purple and simply annihilated in a cascading explosion.
Henry landed on the ground, screaming in defiance as Darkness that filled The Nexus began to recede. He felt the Traveler's radiant light once more, knowing that in the Void left behind he had filled it adequately. Now, despite any attempts of the Vex to stop him, Henry Gordon had torn the Vex asunder and installed a new program into their consciousness:
