On one of my very first Hard Mode Vault of Glass runs, I was a lowly Level 30 Warlock, with hardly an Exotic to my name, eager to prove my Light. Every other Warlock within our raid group (We had four Warlocks, one Hunter, and one Titan) chose to do battle with the fury of fire, and rage within the palm of their hands (i.e. they ran Sunsinger). In their moment of need, if they had fallen to the vicious, time-wrought grasp of the Vex within their dimension of space, deep in the Vault, they prided themselves on their ability to break the bonds of death, and burst forth into fray, bathed in the glow of Fire and Starlight. I, however, saw this as a weakness to themselves. The ability to bring oneself back from the dead, while useful, is but a means of hope within the dark corners of the Vault, and true fury comes not from hope, but from fear. Therefore, I saw it fit that I should run Voidwalker, seeing as though it is my favorite Subclass, and it would sharpen my endurance and strength within the Vault. To sum it up quickly, as we had fought our way past the infinite gaze of the Gorgons, and the ever-reaching judgement of the Templar, we had made our way to Atheon, Time's Conflux. As my Fireteam and I chose to make our own fate during the battle, Atheon was still standing by the means of but a sliver of health, and, by some manner of misfortune, my entire Fireteam found themself destroyed by the malevolent forces of the time-lost machines, and I just so happened to be the only one left alive. In my moment of desperation, having no ammunition for neither my Truth, nor my Praedyth's Revenge, I made a quick sprint towards the fury of Time's Conflux. Atheon stood stoic, firing volleys of Aeon Mauls, trembling devastation upon my airborne figure. In my sole moment of despair, I made one last attempt to fell the great Evil that stood before me. I struck my palm, filled with Void Light, towards the bane of Humanity, and existence. In that infinitesimal, singular moment, all of the energies of the Void within me convalesced into my broken spirit, and left my body through the brazen grips of my Gauntlet, into Time's Conflux, to ultimately destroy him, and all entities within his realm of existence within the Vault. I could not believe it... I myself had destroyed Atheon, with nothing but a Void infused thrust of my palm. The rewards of that adventure matter little, in my eyes. That very last struggle for the Light of myself, and my Fireteam, however, and the great blow struck to Time's Conflux by none other than the Spirit of a lone Voidwalker, have made that entry into the Vault of Glass my single most memorable experience in Gaming.