I've always pondered the thought: [b][i]"What the hell does Lord Saladin do while he's away?"[/i][/b] Like, where do you have to go, man? You can't even leave the top part of the Tower without dying. [i][b]So I followed his shiny golden ass.[/b][/i] It was easy enough to stow away on his ship. I'm a [b]Hunter.[/b] So, basically a cat. A cat with guns, and sweet [b](Y1)[/b] cloaks. I opened a crate of ammo in the back to snuggle up in. Only...[b][i]it wasn't ammo inside.[/i][/b] It was [b][i]labeled[/i][/b] as an ammo crate, but that's not what I found within this box. Shaders, oh, OH [b]THE SHADERS.[/b] Yesternight was lightly grazing my posterior. Burnt marshmallow was wedging itself into [b][i]questionable territory.[/i][/b] [b]Lion Dancer[/b] was making me be a better person just by looking at it. There was no time to gawk, however. The ship was already beginning its descent. Once I felt the [b]comforting vibration[/b] of the ship cease, and heard Saladin leave, I slithered out as well. We appeared to be on a [b]lush, green planet.[/b] Mountains were abundant, and there were many craters from battles long ago. I also noticed an abandoned space pod off in the distance, with a large [b]C[/b] on it. I noticed something... [b][i]odd[/i][/b]..about Saladin. He was wearing boots I'd not seen before, and appeared to be making [b][i]tight[/i][/b] turns. [i]Suspiciously[/i] tight... He took a seat in a beautiful, throne-like chair in what I assume was his living room. A [b]beautiful, red[/b] machine gun hung over his fireplace. It had a [b]familiar[/b] look to it. Before I could further scrutinize it, a woman made her way to the center of the room. I couldn't see the front of her face, but she appeared to have a [b][i]remarkably[/i][/b] slender, fit body. Blue skin, so definitely an awoken. She was wearing a golden robe with a hood shrouding any features I might be able to make out. And then, [b][i]THEN[/i][/b] I heard it. [b][i]"I see you've came back, I almost got bored..."[/i][/b] In-to-the-ope, nope. [b]nope.[/b] [b][u]NOPE. [/u][/b] With the speed of a laggy Stormcaller, I fled. My feet carried me like an eager Twitch streamer. I made my way out of Saladin's garage, almost slamming my head into his [b]sporty, orange ship.[/b] Transmat. [b]TRANSMAT.[/b] DAMNIT GHOST, [b][i]TRANSMAT.[/i][/b] I disintegrated and reappeared in a losing Crucible match. I immediately received a face full of Conspiracy Theory D, followed by a teabag to rival the Gods. Before he even finished dipping on me, a message appeared before me. "[i]lol gg scrub[/i]". This was home. It wasn't much...[b][i]but it was home.[/i][/b]