[3] The Blighted God. [FF]

First Entry: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/251823855?sort=0&page=0 Previous Entry: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/251864255?sort=0&page=0 [i]The Cosmodrome was terrible this time of year. The constant Hive attacks were one thing, but the violent snowstorms were a whole other kind of evil. The ancient and rusted buildings did little to keep out the weather, but they did provide just enough shelter to let you catch your breath. This is the seventh facility you have searched in hopes of finding another message. So far the structure has revealed nothing, but you have learned to not be so hasty in looking. Finally you find a chest marked with faded words, all illegible save for the number “3”. Inside is a new Cluster.[/i] [b]*********************************************************************[/b] [b][Entry 3: The truth behind the godslayer.][/b] I had always found my time within the safety of the Tower to be enjoyable. My first day there had been a rush of blurred moments, from being swiftly taken to a repair shop to mend my defects, to meeting the infamous Vanguard and their restrictive ways. Truth is I didn’t mind them all that much, for I had other more bothersome issues to focus on. The primary problem was my voice, which was to my dismay an impossible repair, due to a crucial lack of a mechanical larynx. The Tower didn’t have a compatible replacement at the time, so I remained annoyingly mute. Part of the reason for this was that my body was incredibly outdated, especially when compared to the form of a modern Exo. But, as disheartening as that discovery was, my life still managed to be ultimately a lucky one. No example of this stands out more in my mind than the event that started my infamous reputation, the act of slaying a Hive God. Or so the misleading rumors claim. What I am about to reveal is not at all glorious, it’s not a tale of pride nor bravery, and it’s most certainly not something I should be remembered for. But gossip cares little for the truth, and it’s a fool’s errand to try and take away a well known story from the people. The event in question began in the Arizona Dunes, and if you were to believe the false, I had arrived as a freshly risen Titan already brave enough to find and face trouble head on. [i]I was there to plant patrol beacons.[/i] While not exactly “fresh”, it still had only been about one and a half months since I had first arrived at the Tower, so I did lack the experience needed for any of the high end Ops. The Dunes provided an opportunity for polish, so I had gone out with just Aydin and myself in hopes of coming back a little wiser. It should go without saying that we got more than we bargai[i]n[/i]ed for. My Sparrow must’ve passed over some hollow land, as before either of us even knew what had happened, we were already free falling down a cavernous trench. Few things experience gravity more than a heavy Titan tumbling at speeds where even the winds scream, and I got the perfect upwards view of my ride smashing against a wall as my Ghost tried in futility to stop my fall. I hit the ground hard, everything in a hundred miles probably heard it, and any creature other than an Exo would’ve died from the impact alone. That’s not to say I survived in one piece, there were bits of me scattered here and there, but I was intact enough to stand and get my bearings. The cave was foul by definition, its entire surface coated with this fleshy spread of spikes and rot. That place would prove to be my first encounter with the nightmar[i]e[/i]s of the Hive. Immediately I looked up towards the shaft of light that marked my entrance, hoping to see Aydin and regroup so we could transmat away before things got worse. To my horror it already had. The white shell of my other half floated thirty feet above me, its clean geometric shapes ensnared in the e[i]t[/i]hereal green flames of a burning net. Something had left a trap for any Ghost insane enough to explore far beneath the peaceful surface, and such cunning foresight had proved effective at our detriment. Never abandon your Ghost, don’t even consider it, not for a moment. Without them you are vulnerable, weak, and most importantly, alone. I wanted to climb and save him, I really did, but at the same time fear bounced around in my head as the chattering of mon[i]s[/i]ters grew loud. I made a mistake, I took my gun and ran, leaving Aydin behind to fend for himself. I wonder what would have happened had I stayed, had I stood my ground to rescue my friend and not prolong the hungry nightmare. The crude tunnels bended erratically with no rhyme nor reason, full of ups and downs set to the left then right and left again. I was lost almost immediately, and it didn’t help that around every corner was a surprise with murderous [i]i[/i]ntent. The Hive are abominations, complete with a culture surrounding the most cruel shapes of death and a b[i]l[/i]atant disregard towards making horrors in its name. I saw things down there, things I have no desire to describe and will happily take with me to the grave. Although, I am willing to speak of warnings, and none are more important than this: It is better to be lifeless dust than it is to be captured by the Hive, for I have seen what pleasantries await for those less fortunate than I. I sprinted through their gruesome laboratories, past their experimentation dens and howling elder Wizards[i],[/i] past every ravenous snare that was intentionally made to steal from me a quick end. To this day the secret of my escape eludes me, for I should have perished a hundred times over, were it not for miracles. There was an Acolyte whose bolts of destructive energy always seemed to curve before they could fatally strike true. Another was a towering Knight, clad in bon[i]e[/i]s, that had every right to slay me, but instead burst into a bright shower of flame before his sword was even raised. But of all the oddities, none was more peculiar than the creature whose death would directly result in my survival. What little ammo I had with me for my Pulse Rifle was almost entirely spent by the time I entered the wannabe god’s chamber. The room was almost perfectly circular, with a ground of soft [i]m[/i]ush and a ceiling made of yellow crystal. In the center was a podium, a ritual altar that had undoubtedly seen the births of all the monsters that I had killed up to that point. My eyes instinctively focused on the familiar Ghost that was tightly bound to the table, and the hulking form that overshadowed his cries. It was an Ogre made from a Wizard, an evident rarity, a tormented being clothed in fabric and chains with a spine that barely held the weight of her malfo[i]r[/i]med head. She was eyeless, and possibly deaf, so my presence went undetected as she chanted in a language that sounded more like audible death in place of words. Aydin was struggling beneath his binds, painfully writhing as she slowly waved her warted hands above his protective shell. I had to act, but just blindly reacting as I had before would have been suicide. My finger twitched as it rested just before the trigger of my rifle, and I forced myself to focus, to abandon fe[i]a[/i]r for at least a moment more. I wasn’t successful, but I tended to leave that out whenever I retold the tale. Scared out of my wits, I moved behind a pillar, frantically searching for any means to save my Ghost. After minutes of contemplation, I saw it. Just above the enormous Ogre was a lengthy crystal stalactite, a sharp point that would easily tear my fo[i]e[/i] apart should I discover a way to free it. I didn’t have the ammo to break it from the ceiling, so I decided to use the next best thing: My fists. I was a Titan, what did you expect? Filled with reckless insanity brought out by my struggling friend, I worked my way up the pillar by digging my fingers into w[i]h[/i]at surfaces I could. Then, once I gained a fair amount of height, I began to calculate a jump that would buy me the time to land the blow. If I wasn’t careful, the spear might have missed the Ogre, or worse, hit Aydin. Caution mixed with adrenaline to make an intoxicating dose of anxiety, and I almost lost my grip in the midst of it. But I held on[i],[/i] and after taking a deep breath, leaped. I hit it too hard. The mass of sharp crystal did fall true and puncture the beas[i]t[/i]’s skull, but it had also started a chain reaction that would bring the cavern down with it. I panicked, as I often did, and rushed to free Aydin before we were both entombed in an unwanted grave. The binds didn’t require much to break, and with minimal effort came our reunion. No time was wasted as Aydin transmatted us to our ship, save [i]f[/i]or a quick glance that I stole in order to witness the body my kill. Once we got back to the Tower, I had Aydin explain everything, only we didn’t go to the Vanguard first. I was arrogant, having survived something that I definitely shouldn’t of, and I admit I was a bit of a bragger back then. I didn’t want him to l[i]i[/i]e, but some over exaggerations were all that was needed to set the rumor ball rolling. I’m honestly disgusted that I willingly let it spread, and even profited from it in rare occasions. I was never some vow-of-silence mute that went looking for trouble, I never willingly invaded a Hive den, and I never killed a god. Yet the dama[i]g[/i]e was done, and after every time my Ghost and I told the story some elements would naturally change.