#hekate007

You listened in stoic silence as the erstwhile Vanguard plotted their futile assault on the monolith. To enter it, to seize it, in the vain hope of driving out that which would bring order to the chaos of this and all worlds. You left with no assurance of your participation. Their solution is always a hammer, when you ever see the more elegant paths.

You don’t sleep well, so perhaps that is why you wake the moment you feel a presence hovering over you. You expect…well. You expect your Witness. But It has come to you only in words, in a feeling of comfort, or the shelter of shadows. You have only seen It once, when you rebuked it. When you, by your perpetual inaction, allowed your lessors to inflict a superficial wound upon It. But It is still there. It will still welcome you.

You are greeted instead by Doug-5, his Ghost, and yours leaning over you.

“Hey,” says Doug-5. “Wanna go do something fun?”

Even if you were feeling up to it, Doug-5’s definition of fun vastly differs from your own, and runs the gamut from fishing to something bordering on wanton bloodlust. But it’s very clear from the four eyes boring into you that ‘no’ will not be an acceptable answer.

“Awesome,” Doug-5 grins when you took longer than a breath to decline.

This is a day of wanton violence, for Doug-5 leads you into a deep cavern that is utterly infested with moths. Doug-5 laughs uproariously as he punches a cursed thrall in the face. He is enjoying himself immensely. You fall back into your futile cycle of violence and rebirth. Light against Light. What is the purpose in this? A rush of adrenaline, the perceived superiority in one conquering another?

Yet, you find a comforting familiarity in fighting back to back, rezzing each other, and pairing rifts with barricades. You’ve always favored more elegant weapons, and the handcannon from your Emperor is a welcome weight in your hands. Doug-5 elects a less subtle approach, wielding a machine gun like a sidearm and sporting not the Vanguard recommended three weapons, but five. Braytech issue, for the most part, though he favors a grenade launcher he and Banshee fashioned out of materials from Rhulk’s pyramid. 

You loose an arrow from your bow and a lightbearing wizard finally falls. Doug-5 doesn’t hesitate to grab the wizard’s Ghost in his fist. Haides and Ghost glance at each other with their usual unease at this. You used to do the same, but now, within the heart of your Traveler, you find you do not care if its instruments of enslavement are destroyed. Is it not mercy to let that which has died rest in peace?

You anticipate the crush of glass and the burst of Light as the ghost dies. But it does not come. You, Haides, and Ghost turn to Doug-5, but he looks almost frozen. Your heart seizes, thinking he’s become just another of the stone memories that have haunted your steps here. But you look closer, and find his head cocked slightly to the side, his eyes narrowed. He is listening, you realize. Waiting. 

You’ve seen him do this before with fallen Eliksni, waiting for the telltale gurgle of recomposition as they rise as Scorn. An endless parade of slaughter enacted for a simple, petty vengeance. So has his Ghost, who furrows his light-scarred shell and floats over to him. But Doug-5 holds up his hand, the ghost in his palm shivering in fear. None of you breathe. 

Until finally, you hear a chuckle. “My beloved grandson.”

Doug-5 smiles and releases the ghost, who seizes the moment to disappear.

The air of the moth infested cavern seems to suck in, until suddenly, she is there. The great moth. The Witch Queen. The traitor. Savathun.

“Grandfather,” says Doug.

Savathun cackles. “How is the old bird? Not still sore after my…little trick?” She looks down at you, her three eyes narrowing. “You’ve looked better, honey." She looks around at the evidence of your slaughter, and even wormless, it brings a smile to her face. Such is the sum of all Krill. "So,” she asks the four of you, “what shall we do today?”

“Thought you two might talk,” Doug-5 shrugs, very clearly avoiding your eyes.

"A conversation?" Savathun muses. You receive a knowing look from her. She hears, where the others do not. She knows. "How interesting. And what are you offering in exchange?"

"I can kill you after."

"In my family, that’s positively a sign of love,” Savathun grins, but taps her chin in thought. "How about we play a little game? You win, our fellow witch and I share some long overdue quality time. You lose, and well," her smile widens, "you lose."

Before you can caution against this, Doug-5 agrees. You feel the tolling of a binding ritual in your mind. A promise made as an oath. He is a fool, and he's doomed you both to Savathun's trickery. Once again, your inaction, your hesitation, have bound you to the whims of a capricious, treacherous god.

You're suddenly transported to a crystalline statue of the Witch Queen herself, and Dark and Light begin to comingle. You enter a pyramid anomaly, and though you recognize it as part of the black fleet, you feel a distortion. It is the same feeling you felt when you hunted down Nezarec on the transformed pyramid ship.

This world is inverted, asymmetrical, illogical. It is infested with Dread, so it must still feel the touch of your Witness, but the Light has suffused itself with the ancient onyx to create something new. You face tormentors and subjugators. You cannot help but think of their progenitors: What would your Witness shape from you, were you to join Its side? Echoes of you, ascending into the stars. Knowledge, unbound and unhampered by the limits of the human mind. All the secrets of the universe laid bare for you, and only you.

Doug-5 fires a lobby of suppressing fire, shouting at you to decipher Savathun's riddles. You are clever, more clever than this self-styled god of cunning. You see the pattern of her lies in the stolen iconography of the First Disciple and his Witness. In their presence, you feel Its absence.

And then, as she was destined to do, she pits you against Doug-5. You stare at each other, guns in hand but unraised. You share a look. It's unspoken, it's familiar. It's...companionship. 

Such things are fleeting. A temporary comfort to hide behind in the face of great change. Does this feeling not burden you? Have you not acquiesced to others' wishes in the vain hope of a moment of camaraderie? And has that weakness not doomed those around you? Remember Oryx. Remember your Emperor. Remember the sword of Light shattering pieces of your Witness. You did not strike the killing blow, but you did not stop its swing.

"Come now," says Savathun, pulling you from your whispering thoughts. "You can't finish the game without a little friendly blood on your hands. It's no different from your Crucible. Go on, have a little fun."

Doug-5 stows his weapons, crosses his arms, and smiles at you. "Eris fucked your games when she broke your ritual," he says, glancing at you for confirmation. "We can do the same thing." He is a simple creature. He has spilled blood for causes he did not understand. Waged wars at the command of others. Offered tithes for a purpose he does not understand. But he listened once. If you desire it, he will listen again. You have only but to offer our hands, and he may join you. Is that not kindness?

"That wasn't the deal, O Guardian mine. Refuse this final step, and you lose."

Doug-5 looks at you. There is no mirth on his face, nor is there his usual empty-headed distraction. He narrows his eyes, the white light of radiolaria shimmering behind the rusted plating of his face.

Ghost transmats a handcannon into his hand. The Ace of Spades. The weapon he used to murder Uldren Sov and the unlucky barons. His executioner's axe. But Doug-5 doesn't point it at you. He gives you a wink, and faster than you can react, he fires a firefly burst of solar into his own head.

(devotion, bravery, sacrifice)

Death.

(love)

Savathun cackles as Ghost appears over Doug-5. He expands his shell, and you feel the presence of the Witch Queen behind you. "Crush his Ghost," she whispers into your ear. "Win the game." 

You refuse.

Savathun laughs in delight. "Well look at you," she says, and materializes in the air before you. Ghost darts his eye between you two, and hurriedly raises Doug. "You and I, we're not interested in playing others' games, are we? No, we're too clever for that." She compares herself to you. An ant to a dragon.

And have you not heard her voice as one of the benevolent thousands that whisper to you? The best part of herself uplifted to a greater, kinder purpose?

"There you go again," says Savathun. You see her is as if waking from a dream. "Do you even know where your voice ends and It begins?" She gives a mirthless chuckle. "I think not."

She fears, even now, and her fear is nurtured by the Light. And like your Traveler, she would rather flee than face finality. Is this the fate you would choose? It's not too late. Put an end to these games, this futile cycle of violence and rebirth. Choose a life eternal, with purpose. With peace.

"I have enjoyed this friendly little chat. We should do it again sometime. But because I'm ever so fond of you, I'll leave you with a question: whose game would you rather be playing? And why isn't it your own?" She abruptly flies into the ether, her lingering laughter echoing in the strange garden. Flees. She is too weak to be in your presence for too long. Your presence. Our presence.

You find Doug-5 sitting at the edge of this garden. He has somehow managed to make a yo-yo out of strand and is trying to coax Ghost into the strings. You feel a surge of warmth for the first time since you set foot in the Pale Heart. It is not Light. It is fondness. It is weakness.

Doug-5 stands as you approach and looks almost sheepish. "Sorry for the ambush," he says. "But...I don't know what's going on with you. You look like you did when we went to the Leviathan with Caiatl. I know Savathun lies sometimes, but so does the Witness." Your Witness, the incessant voice in your mind corrects. It sounds like you, echoed into eternity. "I figured she knew shit that might help."

She did not. She has only ever sought to help herself. And see where that has led her. An eternity of violence traded for paltry games.

"We're worried about you," his Ghost adds. 

"We're going into the monolith tomorrow," says Doug-5. "I don't know what's in there, but I know it'd be better if you came with us."

Yes. It would be better. Come to the heart of finality, reach for the hands that beckon you. Ascend to your potential.

You stand before a single undead exo, who invites you with a single, individual voice.

"Will you join us?"