I dropped the game a while ago but I had a dream last night that I needed to put into words. [b]Forged in silence[/b] The hellscape stretched on endlessly, smothered in a haze of ash and blood-red light. The Titan moved through it with calculated purpose, her armor dulled by layers of grime and battle-scars, the echoes of defeated enemies fading in her wake. She scanned the desolate ground, searching for something known only to her heart and intuition. The air was heavy, thick with a sense of hidden purpose, a pull that guided her to a lone, worn chest, half-buried in the scorched earth. Kneeling beside it, she brushed away the caked dust, her fingers trembling as she lifted the lid. Inside lay fragments of a weapon, pieces that held the faintest glint of something powerful and old. She shifted through them, the weight in her chest growing as she uncovered each part, until her eyes landed on an emblem, a golden tree, etched carefully into the metal. Her pulse quickened, a hollow ache filling her as recognition dawned. She had seen that emblem before, in quiet, fleeting moments when her mentor’s past glimmered in the light, revealing slivers of a story never fully told. The realization struck like a blow, a raw, inescapable truth seeping into her bones. This was her mentor’s weapon, a tool forged in the fires of a life lived fiercely, now broken and hidden in this forsaken place. She lifted the emblem, its familiar mark bringing with it the weight of loss and a purpose yet to be fulfilled. Her mind raced as she pieced together the truth: the weapon had been buried here, its power hidden and waiting, held back by her mentor’s fear, fear she now understood all too well. The weapon, when whole, could consume life, drawing it out in exchange for terrible strength, and in the hands of one without a ghost, its use was a death sentence. Clutching the emblem to her chest, she stood, her path now irrevocably clear. She would find her mentor, this silent guide who had shaped her path and quietly guarded her heart. When she found her, standing amidst the ancient trees of a forgotten forest, the Hunter’s gaze softened, a glimmer of both pride and acceptance within her eyes. Without a word, she turned, leading the Titan deeper into the woods, past the whispering leaves and shadowed trails until they arrived at a small cabin, worn and lonely, nestled among the pines. The Hunter paused, her gaze lingering on the weathered walls as if they held memories beyond sight. Her eyes spoke volumes, this was where it had all begun for her, where she had been reborn as a Guardian, in a world far removed from her former life. In the clearing, the Hunter took a step back, unsheathing her blade with a quiet, unwavering resolve. Her expression was one of calm purpose, each movement a silent declaration. She would not allow her protégé to stagnate, held back by unfulfilled longing and unspoken grief. She raised her blade, inviting her mentee to meet her not as a friend, but as an equal. The Titan’s heart broke beneath the weight of unspoken farewells, yet she understood. She drew her own weapon, a deep, reverent breath steadying her as she took her stance. Their duel began, a fierce and elegant exchange of blows in the stillness of the forest. They moved as if bound by a shared rhythm, each strike a testament to the bond they had forged through years of battles and quiet moments, of silent admiration and restrained feelings. As they squared off in the silence of the forest, the Titan felt an icy dread settle in her bones. The Hunter moved with unwavering precision, wielding her knives and gun in perfect tandem, each strike and shot infused with the fierce determination of a warrior who had weathered countless battles. She gave no quarter, her every movement a testament to her skill and resolve, her strikes landing with lethal intent. The Titan met her with fists and bullets, each blow a powerful surge, but with every clash, the weight of what was unfolding grew heavier. The duel became a storm of violence, the air crackling as their shots rang out, each impact more intense than the last. The Titan’s fists struck with bone-shaking force, and the realization settled into her mind with dreadful clarity: she would overpower her mentor. Her strength was undeniable, terrifying in its raw intensity, and with each devastating punch and shot, the truth clawed at her heart. She was going to win this fight, and every step closer to victory only deepened her terror. The final blow came like a thunderclap, reverberating through the clearing with an explosive crack that silenced everything around them. The force struck the Hunter, and as she staggered, the Titan saw a look in her mentor’s eyes, a gaze filled not with fear but with a fierce pride and profound peace. She had given her all, and her purpose was fulfilled. The Hunter fell to her knees, her breath shallow, and her movements slowed as she reached into her cloak. Her hand emerged, holding the final piece of her weapon, the piece that had once made her whole. She pressed it into the Titan’s hands, her fingers lingering, her eyes softening as she imparted her legacy with a silent benediction. The Titan knelt beside her, grief tightening in her throat as she watched the light fade from her mentor’s eyes for the final time, with no ghost to resurrect it. The forest stood silent, bearing witness to her agony as she clutched the weapon parts to her chest, an uncontainable scream tearing free, echoing through the trees and reaching to the sky. She remained there, trembling, consumed by the pain of loss, as the weight of her mentor’s legacy settled within her. In the days that followed, she returned to her quarters, carrying the fragments of the weapon with a resolve carved from grief and fury. She rebuilt the handgun, piece by careful piece, each part a memory and a promise. When the weapon was complete, its green and gold gleamed in the light, and the emblem of the golden tree stood as a solemn reminder of her mentor’s strength and sacrifice. From that day forward, she wielded only this weapon and her own two fists, facing her enemies with a fire that burned unyielding. Every enemy that crossed her path met the fury of her fists, her strikes landing with a precision born of purpose, her bullets ripping through the air with deadly finality. There was no hesitation, no restraint, only the brutal certainty that she would not be stopped. She was no longer the protégé, she was the reckoning. Those who dared stand before her felt the sheer force of her wrath, each blow a silent vow that nothing would prevent her from carving a path forward. The light that had faded in her mentor’s eyes now burned in her own, fierce and unbreakable. She fought with a single-minded fury, unstoppable and relentless, leaving nothing but ruin in her wake. From this point forward, she would be a force beyond fear, a storm bearing down on anything foolish enough to challenge her. She would honor her mentor, her weapon blazing a trail of destruction until her purpose was complete, until there was nothing left in her path but silence.