We used to talk so much, about everything and nothing. We were always together, be it work or play. Inseparable. Practically brothers. It feels like that was years ago -- and at the same time, like it was only yesterday. What happened, Carro? After you and those Steel Meridian soldiers chased off the Grineer invaders from our home, you no longer cared for the peaceful life that the rest of us wanted. You left to join the resistance. You... became obsessed with it. And it seems like, now that we donât have much in common anymore, itâs not worth your time to speak to me. Youâve stopped visiting the colony and you hardly reply to my messages. Maybe my existence doesnât even really register in your mind anymore, because youâve moved on to other things and other people. Youâve forgotten me.
So that Tenno gunsmith -- Neshe was her name, if Iâm not mistaken -- was right, after all. I remember the conversation clearly, though, that I had gone to pick up the gun I had commissioned. She had just finished test-firing it and it was resting on the workbench between us, all sleek, elegant lines, gleaming beautifully despite the harsh lighting above. I told her it was a send-off gift for my forever friend -- for you -- and she scolded me brusquely for it, saying that nothing lasts forever. âNothing does. Not even a well-crafted rifle like this one will last forever. If you take good care of it, it might last you the rest of your life,â she told me, holding up the weapon in question, âbut no friendship will make it anywhere close to even that.â And for a moment so brief that I thought Iâd imagined it, the anger in her eyes became sadness. âSo donât kid yourself.â With that, sheâd shoved the gun into my hands and shooed me out of her domain.
Itâs a common saying, one older than asteroid dust, that nothing lasts forever, but I never really believed it, not for some things. I didnât want to believe it, and I still donât. When I met Neshe back then, she was by far the angriest person I had ever encountered. I thought that it was simply war that had made her cynical, but that wasnât the case, was it? Something had happened to her to make her so jaded and bitter, maybe even exactly whatâs happening between us now. Maybe she, too, had a close friend that she cherished with all her heart, who didnât feel nearly as strongly about her.
There isnât much I can do about whatâs left of our friendship except let it die. Itâs a two-way thing, after all; if one doesnât care for it, then the other becomes annoying -- and I donât want to be annoying, least of all to you. Donât get me wrong, Iâm not angry that you left me behind, only a little sad. Just...
...Just please, take good care of the rifle, will you? Maybe itâll last you longer than I did.