You're Unwelcome Here. [Chapter 1 (2 of 3)] (Fanfiction)

[quote][i]If you are new to my works, which is likely as I have only recently moved to #Community, then you can find the links to my previous stories here: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/250401973?sort=0&page=0. I [u]highly[/u] recommend you give the other two books a read before continuing on with this journey. Thank you for your time.[/i][/quote] [b]Previous Chapter:[/b] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/250404967?sort=0&page=0 Despite his best efforts, Biocatarus-3 was unable to halt the spreading desire for rest that crept upon his mind, and even the silent, awkward stare of his Ghost did very little in keeping him awake. It was not that he despised sleeping, for he enjoyed the feeling of rejuvenation it provided in the morning, but rather he was fearful of the dreams that had always found a way to arrive uninvited. These nightmares habitually consisted of perfectly defined shapes and solid lines, as if they had been carefully drawn by the hand of an unflinching machine. This one was of no exception, providing a clear image of the easily recognizable landscape that was the Tower. Curiously, it was blatant that the architecture was that which belonged to the more recent of the two structures, yet it also shared the characterization of the older by being little more than a charred husk. Biocatarus-3 sluggishly moved past what had once been the Cryptarch’s stand, and considered that the state of the tower within the dreamworld was a result of his own personal distaste for the monolith, now visually realized by his subconscious. But he also knew that, in order for this conclusion to be true, the dream would have had to belong to him, and not the [i]true[/i] owner of the nightmare. The Exo leaned his right arm on a rusted and bent railing, his eyes looking out upon a seething mass of red veins and jagged black spires that had once been the Last City. [b][What is it of my appearance that frightens you?][/b] asked the Voice, cold and uncaring as tradition. “It’s too gothic and blatantly evil.” responded Biocatarus-3 half heartedly. “For a self declared ‘savior’, I doubt turning their homes into that monstrosity would make the people like you very much.” [b][It would not look like this. I simply do not have the capacity to fully realize my vision at this moment.][/b] “That sounds like a pretty major problem, coming from you.” He noticed a discarded Eververse sigil resting in a puddle filth, and lightly kicked it off the edge and into the void as to alleviate some frustration. He loathed this proposed future, having no say in the matter of its creation yet also being the puppet that was destined carry out the deed. Such was the unconfirmed truth of his suspicions. Involuntarily he blinked, only then noticing that his left hand had subconsciously moved around his neck, lightly grasping his throat yet also poised to tighten. In a panicked motion, he moved it away slowly, trying not to draw attention to what had just transpired. [b][We must leave. If there is to be a better world, then staying here grants only wasted time.][/b] Biocatarus-3, sensing the approaching end of the nightmare, spent the last few seconds peering into a dense layer of clouds, trying to determine if the Traveler had chosen to stay in this fearful rendition of reality, or had instead left this “better” world behind. The question remained unanswered as the dream faded into nothing. …………………………………………………………………………………………... The Guardian in name alone stood idle by the Tower’s vault terminals, scanning through the vast array of items that had once belonged to his predecessor. There was an endless collections of shaders, wax idols, stollen banners, and other tokens of material, but none of these useless objects were of any interest to the Titan. Instead, he focused upon one thing, the armaments that had been both acquired and used all through the same practice of slaughter. This was not the first time Biocatarus-3 had considered taking the lethal tools, for they would have made the issue of escaping rather trivial, but he was unwilling to free himself if it meant the death of another innocent life. The Exo shuddered, reluctant to accept what to him was contradictory to an internally held belief. [i]Let the past keep these.[/i] he vainly told himself. [i]I won’t need them, I won't.[/i] He moved on to the summary of armor and was surprised to learn that Biocatarus-2 had only owned a single set. The protective suit was a custom build, one that was vaguely reminiscent of a medieval knight, remolded to better fit the standards of the modern age. Regardless, he was uninterested in using it. The hesitation was not because of the intricate design itself, moreso the disillusion was instead fueled by the multiple handmade marking that had been delicately painted on its metal surface. One depicted a pattern of multiple golden circles intertwined, possibly representative of the Titan’s first year of life. The second was of a Hive rune cut in two, referencing the death of Oryx, and a third displayed the Red Legion’s banner torn to thin shreds, respective of the Red War. It was not the symbols themselves that bothered the Exo, who held no direct recollection of the events that had warranted their creation, instead finding discomfort from the well defined areas of untouched space, clearly intended to hold markings of their own once another noble deed had been accomplished. The implication was obvious, the predecessor had expected to live far longer than he did, and so the suit was yet another indication that Biocatarus-3 should never have come to be. He felt something grow heavier within his deep pockets, and he knew it was the Data Clusters, which he was unable to forsake due to the demands of the Voice. [b][Take them, use them. Above all else they are vital, and if you leave without them, your death will come faster than his.][/b] If Biocataus-3 had known how to purge the Voice’s existence in that very moment, he would have done so without hesitation. He turned away from the vault, having neither taken nor deposited a thing, and had continued his walk towards the hangar before being quickly interrupted by the familiar outline of his Ghost. “Where are you going?” asked Aydin, sensing a change in his other half’s normally inactive demeanor. “Nowhere.” responded Biocatarus-3 in a social panic. “You know I can’t leave. Besides, to do that I’d need… nevermind.” Aydin was unsurprisingly unconvinced, and the Exo cursed under his breath. He had long expected this conversation, knowing that it would have to happen thanks to the reality of his immortal condition, yet he still found himself unready for its words. “Hmmm. Well if you were to leave, you do know you’d have to take me with you.” replied Aydin, his voice only hinting at an agreement to the Exo’s intentions. The Ghost clearly understood what the Titan was planning, having grown accustomed to the predictably volatile nature of his ward. In truth, Biocatarus-3 had considered asking for companionship earlier, only stopping himself because of a preconceived dread that the Ghost would decide to abandon him instead. He took a deep breath, his jaw faintly quivering. “You… can come along or not, I don’t-” he attempted to respond, only to spontaneously stop speaking as another soul stole his attention away. Biocatarus-3’s optics had made contact with another set of eyes, ones that glowed of soft starlight and reminded him of nameless better days that he could never comprehend. The owner of these eyes, an Awoken Warlock named Apheyra, had been a close friend of his predecessor, and was now only a stranger to the man which she had once known. They had tried to reconvene, but it soon became apparent that Biocatarus-3 was unlike all that she had grown to care for. [i]Another failure.[/i]