[i]Si vis Pacem, para Bellum.[/i] “Si vis Pacem, para Bellum,” Bree spoke to herself. The words rolled ever so softly off of her tongue, that it was just barely above a whisper. Death; that was all Bree ever knew, and it was all she ever would know. She stood in the middle of the raised platform in the center of the room, Bree, felt as if she were floating above herself, looking down at the Hell that poured out from the auto rifles of both Fallen and corrupted Guardians alike. The reddish-orange sunbursts of muzzle flashes, crackling explosions of fire that erupted from grenades, and finally, the sounds of fracturing fragments of crystals. It was a battle of good vs evil, the virtuous vs the villainous; life vs death. And it raged on with the fury of a bull on a rampage, and there was no escaping it, and there was no stopping it. She didn’t know why, but she found herself out in the open, in the middle of the battle dome, cutting down anything and everything that stood in her path. Bree’s helmet lay on the platform, it was useless to her. The smoky fumes of rotting flesh and gunpowder wafted, and filled her nostrils with the stink of a nightmare that was all too real. She continued her parade of aimless killing, Guardian after Guardian fell at her feet, crystal after crystal shattered and fell to pieces in front of her, she was a walking Goddess among mere mortals. The last crystal diminished into nothingness, Bree, had counted fifteen, the same as the first room. The sync pad in the raised middle platform lit up, and they all came together as one unit to step on it. The same purple swirl, a sudden blast of air, the sync pad fell away to the dark, and they floated into the abyss. They transported into another circular stone crypt, the only exception was that the cover was much more sparse. Bree started picking out spots with decent hiding holes and places to avoid the upcoming fight, then the first crystal appeared. Without delay, Bree, and her team jumped off of the platform and started to fan out in all directions. Her helmet stayed on the platform, once she and the Vandals figured out the best way to run these crystal caves, she figured that she would be able to manage without it; but she was wrong. The team and Bree had no trouble fighting their way through the crystals until Bree counted the last one. In perfect unity, Bree, and her team moved with a mechanical precision that broke the constraints of perfection. The last crystal vibrated and within the confines of itself, bright light played and danced; then the enemy appeared. Everything went exactly as it had before, devilish red eyes of the Guardians radiating light, their bellies pulsating a pale, dead white, then they would fall. Reload, fire, reload, fire. It was a simple recipe for death, and they had it down to an exact science. That’s when Bree heard it. The unmistakable “pop” of Brayden’s scout rifle. Bree, immediately whipped her head around as she tried to find him, desperately seeking to find the area in which this ghost from her past was coming from. But the bullet found her first. It slammed into her chest with such a ferocious impact, that it knocked her backward and into a broken wall. Breathing hard, she scrambled over and landed in a heap, crinkling herself up behind it. Bree rolled onto her hands and knees, heaving for breath, but it had a hard time coming back to her. If only she had her helmet… Bree, ever so slowly, peeked her head out of from behind her rock, she watched as the Fallen continued their savage slaughtering of everything that descended from the crystal. Then, she watched them as they all scurried for cover as soon as her brother’s scout rifle rose back to life and starting shooting. The bullets seemed as if they were forged from the Devil himself, they tore apart rocks, they ripped through the armor of her Fallen as they ran, and it was the first time, that Bree, felt fear. She emerged from behind her rock and let loose a stream of bullets at her own brother. No, not her brother, Brayden, was dead, she held him in her arms, she felt the life leave his body...his light vanishing into the dark. Bree clenched her teeth in rage, holding her gun with her life, she held the trigger down, doing her best to keep it aimed at him. But it didn’t do anything. Bree emptied the entire clip, and Brayden just kept coming forward. The Vandals were starting to become overwhelmed with other dead Guardians, that they didn’t pay, and couldn’t pay, any attention to Brayden advancing on Bree. As Bree ejected the empty magazine, Brayden was on her, and years of training being drilled into her, along with her instincts, saved her life. He was standing on the opposite side of the broken wall, aiming his scout rifle down at her, and in a flash, Bree swung her empty gun like a club into Brayden’s barrel. The bullet skinned past the side of her face as Brayden fired, she could feel the heat from it, and inevitably, the trickle of warm blood down her cheek. Like a track star, she vaulted over the broken wall feet first, with a bloodthirsty, feral strength, she rammed her heavy boots into him. Brayden took one step back as the force of the impact was enough to knock him off balance. His gun by his right side, Bree drew her knife and came in low to his left, slashing at his leg. The blade bit through his armor and found flesh, but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect on him. In a robotic movement, he swung his own rifle down at her unprotected skull. Bree brought her armored right arm up to meet the blow, the gun bounced harmlessly off of her gauntlets and as the momentum carried Brayden’s body downward, Bree, used it against him. Her free hand gripped the barrel of his rifle and yanked down hard while her knife found a new home on the inside of his right wrist. Whether Brayden was turned into a mindless murdering machine by the Vex or not, a body needs tendons, joints, cartilage, and bones in order to function, Bree’s knife took care that he would not be able to fire his weapon again or even use that hand again. Unphased as Brayden’s gun dropped to the ground, he drew his knife with his left hand, and in a violent downward arc, he slashed at Bree. Bree’s own knife came up to meet his, the blades kissed as they came together. Steel on steel, Bree was know on her knees, trying her damndest to fend off his attack. Brayden swiped down at her again, she deflected the blow again, but his knife managed to find the scarred skin that was her face and opened a long slit across her forehead. The blood gushed out as all head wounds are prone to do, but she was able to gather her strength and thrust her knife up into his helmet. It bounced off his face shield, and he retorted as he drove the point of his knife down at her throat, forcing, Bree, on her back. Desperation saved her life once more, her left forearm knocked into Brayden’s wrist and pushed the direction of the knife from her throat, and into the stones beside her left ear. Bree felt his knife dig into the gravel, a small window of opportunity, and she plowed her deadly knife into any opening or weak spot in his lifeless body, but alas, it proved futile. Bree’s left hand clamped down like a vice on Brayden’s arm, trying her best to keep him from wrenching his blade free from the stones. That’s when it hit her; her Fatebringer. Bree could feel it in the holster on her right leg, but that meant dropping her knife...so she did as her brother’s body pressed down heavily on her own. Tears, blood, sweat, grit, filth; it all ran into her eyes and covered her face. It dripped into her throat and ran into her nose, she spat bloody mucus as she tried to clear her airway, her right hand now reaching for the grip of her gun, but Brayden’s bodyweight pinned her to the ground. Bree drew blood from her own mouth as she bit down on her tongue, then, Brayden pulled his knife from the stones, and Bree’s hand fell away from his arm as he plunged down again. In another act that kept her alive, her left hand caught his left wrist and with whatever remaining strength she had within her, she called upon it. He relentlessly pushed down, as Bree unrelentingly pushed up. She was always stronger than her brother, but this was different, this was her life, if she didn’t win this test of strength now, she would be lost forever. Bree emitted a hellacious roar from her throat, as Brayden’s knifepoint dug into her right cheek, piercing its way through. For all she was worth, she continued to hold onto him, fighting against his freakish strength, and then, she found it. Bree’s fingers curled around the butt of her gun and she withdrew it from its slumber. The harsh click of the metal cylinder as the bullet advanced into the chamber, her primal scream still bellowing from her throat, she placed the barrel directly against his helmet; and pulled the trigger. [i]Thank you all again! I hope everyone has enjoyed this journey so far. All feedback welcome![/i] [i]Trials of a Guardian: Emergence (Chapter 9)[/i]: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/118150247 [i]Trials of a Guardian: ALL Chapters (Appendix)[/i]: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/105589170/0/0