[6] The Ancient Machine [FanFiction] (Giveaway Ended.)

First Entry: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/251823855?sort=0&page=0 Previous Entry: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/252049343?sort=0&page=0 [i]The Martian sands spread far and wide, its body prepared to keep all drowned secrets within until the end of time. Between the remains of dying metal towers stood open the entrance to a network of tunnels, a mouth stretched as if to greet you. Several constructs of the Vex stood to halt your advance, but they were expertly torn down as progress was made. Further and further into the labyrinth you went, until at last the prize was found. Embedded in a shattered terminal was the next installment of the dead man’s words.[/i] [b]*************************************************************************************[/b] [b][Entry 6: Survival’s cost, a change of mind.][/b] The roars of Enedra echoed as my ship made landfall in the desolate palace of my birth. The van was there waiting for me, offering a place of therapeutic solitude I desired to embrace. The land itself was quiet, and welcoming. Such an occurrence of peace is so rare that I should have known the lie and left early. But my thoughts were still clouded as I bathed in the gentle air. Despite the months that had passed since my vacancy, faint patches of winter still decorated the neglected soil. Each step of my boots upon the snow made an audible crackle, which only served to remind me of the bones I had walked upon a day earlier. It was no surprise that the remembrance of trauma easily overshadowed the secondary grasp of the current present. And so I took no notice of the dead Fallen, focusing only on what I had come to do. With absent thought, I placed my hand on the rusted edge of the vehicle, trying in vain to recall why fate had made it my resting place. The tomb held no clear answers. I looked to the sun as if to ask for advice, yet all it could bare to give was warmth and nothing more. My eyes closed, which entirely failed to hide the sight of monsters that had broken my faith. As always I sought for solutions to stop the inevitable end, to find a way to halt the dark and cheat the death I foresaw once more. My cluelessness persisted into a self fulfilling victory, keeping all comfort away. I was about to enter the guts of the massive van when an alien wail caught my ears. My weapon was anxiously drawn as I sought out the source, expecting the ground to release horrors as it had before. Yet it was not the floor from which the fight came, for in distance stood the mysterious warehouse, and within was the creature that had screamed. It was a Splicer Captain by the looks of it, the product of a special type of Eliksni worship that caused one to give up flesh to replace with machinery. This was before the outbreak of SIVA that would plague the Cosmodrome in a year’s time, so when you picture the insect that was dragged into the shadows of that building, do not think of it as being clad in red and black. That description was saved for the thing that ate it. I had gotten closer to the warehouse by the time the Splicer had ceased its wail. I was prepared for Hive, not the violent explosion that suddenly removed the ancient lair from existence. A splinter of hot shrapnel wedged itself into my leg just as the cause of the smoking crater beckoned. Once again I see the events that transpired from eyes that were not my own. The recollection is undoubtedly stolen from the crimson visor of the rising machine, a heap of gathered metal that together vaguely resembled the shape of a man, only greater. Its three bulky legs were dangerously crooked, barely supporting the immense mass of a body that was a hybrid of repurposed cars and armored tanks. The crude weave was held together by a nest of red wires, all of which lead towards a central mass that must have been the equivalent of its head. From the tall view I witness a tiny man pull the shrapnel from his damaged knee, screaming in terror for his Ghost to heal it quickly. The Light fed into the gaping cut, and the minuscule warrior rose to his feet with the intent to run. I reach out for him with my one slender arm, as if trying to give comfort and banish his fears. The response he gave was the firing of his weapon. To reduce the oncoming damage, I pulled my limb back like a shield, keeping the bullets from striking my heart. He was already making swift progress towards his ship, so to halt his escape, I fired a round from a salvaged launcher on my shoulder. It sent him tumbling into the air, perfect for my hand to catch. My fingers wrapped around his chest, careful in grasp as to not split his frail form in half. He continued to yell curses, begging to be let go, yet I refused to do such a thing. He did not yet understand my kindness, for it was my duty to perfect the imperfect. The mouth in my chest slid open, and I held him above it, so that he could consume my breath. The nanites flew true, but not fast. In one last effort of foolish resistance, he pulled a burning hammer from thin air. I failed to expect the impossible, and so did nothing as the illogical projectile struck a fatal blow. My systems collapsed, and my sight faded.