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She had always wanted a guardian. But she never really thought she'd ever find one. Not really.
She was more used to ferrying about other ghosts, leading them around Earth as the Light they sought out brought them closer and closer to the one they were destined for. She was used to not feeling much from her Risen, almost convinced it wasn't even on Earth, but never finding any reason to leave. It just… didn't feel right, to get on a ship and leave orbit. She felt at home here. Maybe her Risen did too.
If she ever found it, of course. Or, them. But she didn't count on the unknown possibilities, ever. Besides it's not like she was really looking anyway.
At least, that was all before today .
Today, she's speeding through the rubble outside Australia, desperately urging her tiny body to fly faster, to dodge quicker, as another sniper round hits the metal playing right next to her left prisms. She squeals and buzzes, somersaulting through the air; another wire rifle shot nearly strikes her as it whistles between her prisms. It is all too close for comfort and she makes a sound reminiscent of a human's cry as she zips away. The sound of broken Fallen words follows her, and though she didn't understand a word of it, it didn't matter -- they were a hostile group and wanted her very dead.
Light Bearers of any kind weren't allowed on their turf, and that included Ghosts like her.
She moves tactically, speeding over a sea of sand and metal, of broken towers and buildings and bodies. Whenever she got the chance, she would swoop down, giving quick scans on any metal arm or face or chassis that she saw.
One of these, she thinks to herself desperately, one of these fallen exos has to be one…
Another shot. The scrambling of clawed feet. Her single eye focuses and counts four vandals and three dregs closing in. She darts away, the body below her still dead and unmoving.
"Please, Traveler please, I can't go out like this…"
She knew all the horror stories. Of ghosts searching forever for their Risen and dying before they're ever found. Ghosts get captured, tortured, sold on the black market out on the Reef. She knows these Fallen would not be so kind; old Australia was a hostile land and these fallen had adapted to live in the most corrosive place Earth had to offer. It was inhospitable but full of scrap, plenty to sell off-world, And why not, when so many exo corpses were here to loot? For whatever reason, the Australian outback held the biggest mass exo grave on the planet.
She spins away, finding a crumbling building and hiding in the harsh shadows created by the blinding sun. A pile of collapsed concrete calls to her; an opening just big enough for her, and too heavy for a Fallen to lift. She flies inside as a few more bullets whizz past, immediately going as far into the space as she can. It isn't long until scurried footsteps draw near. She brings her prisms close, trying to hide their shaking, as four bright blue eyes peer inside, searching for their prey. There is scrabbling against concrete and laughter, followed by garbled commands she didn't understand.
The footsteps retreat and she blinks, opening her shell just a little bit. She takes a chance to scan around, checking her surroundings when to her surprise… there's a buried body here. A mechanical hand, a caved-in head. She blinks, floating over tentatively, looking over what she'd found in the gloom.
She isn't prepared for something in her core to thrum to life, reacting to this long-deactivated body as she let out a buzzing, breathy "oh."
The footsteps outside return. She grows silent, but her body begins to vibrate -- from excitement, fear, or something else, she is no longer sure. But as a much deeper Fallen voice begins to speak and the concrete over her head begins to shift, she realizes she's running out of time.
It's now or never.
A flash of Light, blinding her inside the confined space. Outside the Fallen exclaim and angry orders are given as the frantic conversation swells up. They know what she's trying to do, and as the concrete moves with more urgency, she has a sneaking suspicion they're about to try and stop her.
But the process couldn't be stopped or reversed. Not now. As she scans over the hand, she pulls the Light from it, mixing it with her own. There is enough here, enough to bring this individual back, enough to fill them with the Traveler's gifts. She pulls with all her strength, re-stitching together all the parts of this body, cursing that so much of this model was so complicated, so precise she's never seen an exo design like it--
There's a loud crunch. A chunk of concrete begins to fall. She can hear it, she can feel the air above her rush away as the stone drops, but she can't stop now, not when she's so close, not when she finally has her--
There is a flash of lightning, so close it leaves her sensors garbled. She wobbles, threatening to drop, but an intricate metal hand catches her, holding her firmly but not painfully. She looks up to see a red and black face, glowing yellow eyes, and black horns on the crown on a metallic Risen head.
She blinks and immediately sends her thoughts to him -- she's sure it's a he, as soon as their essences touched, she knew -- and his eyes flick to her, as if unsure to what was happening.
They're going to try and kill you, is all she silently tells him and his eyes widen as his fist clenches protectively around her. He looks up; the screeching face of a vandal is there, yelling obscenities as a louder voice moves more rubble. The barrel of a gun enters the newly made hole, and she can hear the intake of breath before--
The shot rings out, but he's already moving. He leaps straight up, grabbing the butt of the gun and throwing it, causing the shot to go wide. The vandal squacks in surprise but is immediately silenced as the exo's head slams into his, rendering the vandal inert. It falls over and the exo pulls the gun from it's four arms as it collapses. He then elbows out a larger hole, tossing the concrete as if it was made of paper. She can feel the pain it caused, but the exo didn't flinch, just finishes digging his way out of his tomb, before letting the ghost float out of his palm. Around his fists, electricity crackles.
The Fallen all take pause, stepping back and collecting themselves. It's all the exo needs to take advantage of the opening, bringing the stolen gun up and immediately popping the head off one of the dregs. The dreg screams, the ether steaming off it's body as it dies. This is enough to wake up the captain, who roars angrily and orders the attack. The exo scoffs, but levels the rifle as the two remaining dregs close in.
Watch their daggers, she offers to him as she zips away into the pocket dimension now surrounding her Risen. And that captain… keep a distance. It can and will kill you.
He scoffs, but is silent in his affirmation. He ducks under a dagger, and tosses the other dreg with ease. He catches the arm of the dreg that tried to stab him, breaking it at the joint. The dreg screeches and as the weapon drops: the newly risen exo grabs it, shoving it into the dreg's skull. It falls limp, and he pays the dead body no mind.
It's then that he's shot in the head.
There's the popping of a shield breaking and the exo drops. The ghost from her pocket dimension gasps, feeling the damage. She watches from her safe space as the Fallen cheer, and the panic in her shell rises. Would she be able to resurrect him? She's never done it, she didn't know--
The exo moves. He growls angrily, the wound in his skull pouring fluid, but his eyes crackle a mean blue, his body filled with an energy that wasn't present before. The vandals end their cheering as, astonishingly, the exo stands. He finds his feet, zeros in on the nearest enemy and bullrushes them.
The vandal squeals. In the blink of an eye the exo is upon the poor bastard, an angry punch plowing into the side of the vandal's head. It staggers, tries to get away, but the second blow comes flying in right after the first, and it's knocked cold to the floor. The ferocity doesn't let up; the exo turns to the next vandal, and charges. This time horns pierce through makeshift armor, finding flesh and exoskeleton. The vandal yelps in surprise as it's tossed, blood trailing behind it as the horns exit the body like two spears, just as deadly as the dreg's dagger. When the third vandal doesn't move, he looks to it next, and charges.
He misses the captain's movement in his single-minded haste. The large Fallen barrels down on him with dual blades, slicing off his arm and head; they settle six feet away and the body sparkles and finally slumps to the floor.
The vandal watches in horror and even the captain looks disturbed. They both breathe, and begin to discuss what just happened in hushed voices. They then choose to retreat, looking back at the body, to see if the Traveler Spawn would rise to pursue them again.
Meanwhile, the tiny ghost from her safe dimensional haven watches all of this with the sense of held breath. She watches the Fallen talk, then retreat, then looks to the body of her Risen, and all her processes feel like they shut down.
What in the world was that? Is this normal guardian behavior? Did he just… destroy all of those Fallen on his own?
Shakily, she materializes back into physical space. She scans the body, collecting all of the overabundant Light she could sense, and then carefully reconstructs her exo all over again. She finishes the resurrection feeling relieved; it went off without a hitch. As he comes to once again, he looks around, fists clenched, ready for the rest of the fight. She sighs, a sound adopted from the humans.
"It's fine. They're gone. You scared them off," she tells him, and his attention turns to her. There was something sharp and predatory there for just a moment, but then his vision softens, and his muscled shoulders ease. He nods.
"Good," he says, and his voice sounds rough from disuse. She makes a questioning noise and scans his vocal boxes. She grumbles, rearranging some of the pieces.
"Damn, you really are a glass cannon, aren't you," she mutters, and he stiffens.
"I don't know what you mean."
"I mean you have way more moving parts than the others like you."
"Others like me?"
"Exos." She pulls away and gestures to the battlefield littered with metal bodies half buried in the sand. "Never seen one like you. So combat ready and full of intensity. Maybe we'll find out you have something in those memory banks about why you are the way you are."
"I am not sure what you mean," he states plainly, "But I trust you, for now. You kept us both alive. You…" he looks away, then makes a realization. This realization is furthered as he looks, really looks, at the bodies he's surrounded by.
"...I died."
"You did, once." She says evenly, watching the Risen carefully, feeling his head turn and begin to understand. "And then you did again, while fighting those Fallen." His eyes go wide and she just nods. "Yes, that is correct. You can not die, not while I'm around."
He's silent for a beat but then he laughs, a strange sound that seems poorly practiced. But the laugh shakes his shoulders, and he rolls his head, those horns making the action heavier than usual.
"Good."
She blinks. She's seen so many resurrections that weren't hers. Most times, newly Risen were terrified, untrusting, fearful, misunderstood. They usually feared dying again, even after realizing they could come back. But this Risen…Judging on the emotions of his thoughts, he was positively gleeful .
He turns to her, his lights shining bright and it's a moment before she realizes her exo is smiling. He extends a hand to her as if she could shake it.
"Achilles. Achilles-17," he clarifies. He speaks the name with utter confidence which isn't strange; most exos natively knew their name and number. His head cheerfully tilts and he nudges her prism with his hand.
She tentatively puts a prism out, and 'shakes' his hand.
"Styx," she says, finally giving Achilles her name. "I'm your ghost."
"We in this together, then?" He asks her candidly.
"Until the end," she says breathily. "As long as I'm still here, you will be too."
"Wonderful," he says, and then he brings his hand in and cracks metal knuckles. "So, how about we follow those buggy bastards and make sure they never get away?"
Styx laughs and it's full of relieved glee.
"Oh yes, let's."