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Wyatt-3

Summary:

Here's all my drabbles and whatnots about my Exo Hunter - Wyatt-6. I'll add tags/characters as needed. I'll also be adding the creation date to each entry since Destiny's timeline has key events that take place that change things - sometimes greatly.

Chapter Text

Wyatt-3 & his ghost, Cassidy.

Chapter 2: Hunter

Summary:

Destiny Location: Tangled Shore
Original Date of Writing: 2020

Chapter Text

No… Cayde’s ghost! She’s dead! Wyatt pushed through the shock, the sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and rushed forward. He pushed himself to go faster. He had to go faster! The hydraulics in his knees whirled, his whole system went into overdrive. He heard talking… he couldn’t make out the words but he recognized his brother’s voice sure enough. Damn, he sounded rough. He was three feet from the door way… CLANG! He heard Ace go off… he slid around the corner and lost his balance. His knees hit the ground hard, his hands the same… “No!” His tenor roared out of him as he scrambled to get to his feet.

His eyes locked with that son of a bitch… he didn’t feel a thing. Uldren Sov said it so… hell, he didn’t care how it was said. He knew he surprised him and later, he’d blame his emotional state over why he missed. His hand shot down, his gun drawn, the sister gun to the Ace of Spades. His hammer came down and he let out a frustrated sound when he saw the bullet fly through Uldren’s shoulder, who, admittedly, barked out a sound of disbelief before the door shuttered him away. He wanted to follow, chase that piece of shit down… but his brother’s cough caught his undivided attention.

He didn’t even put his gun away, he just laid it on the ground as he damn near fell down, his hands held away as he looked at the damage. It was a lethal blow. And with Sundance gone… Cassidy whirled around… his little light dimming in sorrow. There’s… nothing I can do… he said. Wyatt didn’t even hear him, not really. His eyes were locked on his brother’s as he took hold of his hand. God… his grip was so weak. “You’re… gonna be just fine.” His tenor cracked with the lie.

Cayde coughed and chuckled low. Liar. Wyatt shook his head… he didn’t… Do you remember… he couldn’t look at his brother’s face anymore… his eyes were locked on their identical grips as he held his hands. That scouting trip on Venus… when everything… went wrong. Wyatt’s sorrow was pulling him down but he managed a low chuckle, even if sadness stained his voice.

“I think I still have a blister on my foot from how many miles we had to walk.” He was joking, of course, he couldn’t get blisters anymore. Wyatt… that made him look back at his face, his eyes were barely glowing. Wyatt opened his mouth but nothing came out except a rough breath. He knew, if he could, he’d be crying right now. For an agonizingly long moment, they were both silent before Wyatt just spoke, he didn’t think, he just spoke.

“Don’t go.” He inched closer, his grip going firmer. Cayde held his hand tight for a slight moment. Hey… this isn’t on you… this… was just… my last ride… you tell… you tell Zavala… and Ikora… that the Vanguard… was the greatest bet… I ever… lost. That last word felt like it echoed… for it was the last. Wyatt blinked… and just stared for what felt like the longest time. Willing the lights to come back on in his brother’s eyes… he heard Petra come trotting up behind him.

He couldn’t talk to her… he couldn’t even look at her… he wasn’t really mad at her but he knew himself and his temper and she was there… sure as shit, she’d be in the line of fire if he focused on her too long. He sniffled, the sound a reflex and nothing more. He started shifting, stuffing his hands under his brother’s now… lifeless… form. He just walked past her… heading for the exit… so he could be transmatted to his ship.

Later, at the Tower.

We should have been there… Ikora’s voice held so much sorrow. Wyatt stood in the back of the room, his eyes still rooted on his brother’s body, as if waiting for it to move again. He supposed that was how it was for everyone. He, admittedly, zoned out during Ikora’s lament. It was until Zavala’s voice filled the air, even as quiet as he was. No. We are not an army… we are not conquerors. Wyatt’s hands curled into metal bending fists as pure… rage started to fill him up. He wasn’t aware of the change in his optics, Cassidy settled near his ear, trying to reach him. But his anger… was too great.

“Good thing I am.” He ground out, drawing the attention of both Vanguards.

Zavala stared into the glowing red eyes of Wyatt-3… Cayde’s brother, in another life and in this one. Not a brother in arms, a legitimate brother. “Wyatt… I can’t allow you—” He didn’t get another word out.

Wyatt shifted his weight, aggression bleeding out of him. “Allow me? Who the fuck do you think you are?” He gently pushed Ikora out of the way as he squared off on the other side of the altar from Zavala. “That son-of-a-bitch is mine, I’ll burn down the whole fucking reef if I have to!”

“Wyatt, you have to understand…” Ikora began but Zavala cut her off this time.

“And bring down the wrath of the Awoken! This city has been through enough, I won’t allow you to endanger the people here or the Traveler.” Zavala felt his own temper lighting, slower than Wyatt’s but still there. He knew where Wyatt’s anger was coming from, hell… he felt the same way but he couldn’t let himself act on it.

Wyatt leaned forward slightly, his optics narrowing. “And how… do you think… you’re going to stop me?” He ground it out low, the threat very evident.

Zavala made a face, anger trekking down his features, his hand fell to the butt of his gun… and he promptly froze, staring down the barrel of Wyatt’s own hand cannon, the one that matched Cayde’s. He heard Ikora trying to get Wyatt’s attention. The tension in the room sky rocketing.

Wyatt squared his stance, his aim true, as it should have been when he had the chance to shoot Uldren. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Uldren Sov… is mine.” He lowered his gun and slapped it down into his holster in one smooth move, pivoted and stormed out of the private area of the Vanguard.

Zavala just watched him go… and deep down, wished him good hunting.

Cassidy rushed in front of Wyatt, attempting to slow him down. “Don’t, please… Wyatt, don’t do this… this is wrong… he—”

“Killed Cayde. Killed Sundance!” He barked at his ghost. “Don’t even try to tell me you don’t want vengeance over that, I know you loved her.”

Cassidy’s shell snapped up against his light. Love?! He felt like denying it. He knew Wyatt didn’t mean it like that. But as a dear friend… which she was. A dear friend. He didn’t say anything else until they were breaking orbit and aiming for the Reef.

Later, the Tangled Shore…

Wyatt lowered his rifle as he let out a low breath. He should feel relieved… he should feel… justified. But he didn’t. He only felt an overwhelming sadness that threatened to knock the wind right out of him. The Rifleman was dead. His head blown into a million pieces of red tinted mist. Wyatt hadn’t let Cassidy heal him this entire hunt. He felt the tremble down to his core as he swayed, stumbled over to the edge of the highest point, falling to a crouch, his rifle sliding into his lap as he covered his mouth and shut his eyes.

His hand shook as he set it to his crown, pushing the hood of his torn and ragged cloak off. Cassidy finally appeared, his low voice drifting to him. Wyatt… let me… “No.” But… it’s over. Wyatt let out a humorless chuckle, low and rough, he shook his head slightly, revealing his mouth and looking out over the near wasteland. “No, it’s not.” But he couldn’t stand. Not because he was injured… but because the weight of his emotions was too great.

Petra appeared in a trasmatting haze. She saw him crouching there, she could see the shaking from here. She knew this hunt was going to be hard on him… but he hadn’t allowed her to help. She knew he was going to take this whole thing hard but, it was still a shock to see exactly how hard he was taking it. “Wyatt?” She said his name quiet, testing the waters.

Wyatt’s whole body tensed and a shudder went through him. Petra Venj. The Wraith that he’d denied a place in this hunt… though he had told her that when it came to Uldren, she could help track him down but that the final shot was to be his and his alone. “Go away, Petra.” He tried not to growl the words, his anger leaking into them anyway.

Petra gave a slight pained expression before coming up behind him… in a smooth move, she crouched behind him and set a hand on his shoulder, she felt the shaking and sent an alarmed look to Cassidy, the ghost simply shaking in a ‘no’ fashion.

Cassidy wanted to warn Petra to just… not. He wasn’t sure what Wyatt was going to do, he knew that he still held a lot of anger towards her. But that there was also a great deal of history between the two of them. There was a reason Cayde and himself were so involved with the Prison of Elders. One of them was the relationship that he had with its junior warden. The woman who now offered a small amount of comfort now. “Don’t.” He said the word but it shook out of him, it felt like the longer her hand was there, the more intense the emotions were getting.

Petra frowned and let her hand slide off of him, bowing her head and sighing. “You don’t have to do this alone.” She wasn’t going to talk him out of this, she wanted Uldren’s head just as badly as he did. But she knew that this was something that was going to dig at him. She glanced to the end of the rifle, the thing was worn and old. So very old. From a time when Wyatt wasn’t Wyatt-3, but simply Wyatt. Fresh into the Exo program, he’d been tasked with being one of their elite snipers. A job he hated. And one he grew to loathe, his temper becoming increasingly unpredictable. Knowing that now, she knew it was likely some form of post traumatic stress. That was the first time he was reset. The second, was because he tried to take that same gun and storm the vault. He wasn’t sure what happened to him, nor was Cayde, since both were there. But they both came out with another number added to their names. Wyatt had sworn, years ago, that he’d never pick up that gun again. It held too many horrible memories. Yet, here it was, the barrel still warm. If nothing else was going on, if nothing else was eating away at him, she knew staring down the scope of that gun again was doing a number on him all by itself.

Wyatt shook his head and tried to tell her that, yes, he did. That this was all his fault. If he had just stayed with Cayde, stuck to his side like glue, he’d be alive. He wouldn’t be as cold as space, laying in a vault beneath the tower. But nothing came out, he wanted to tell her all of that. But he just ended up covering his mouth and closing his eyes tight, a hitching sound breaking out of him as he fell to a sit, his legs sliding away from him. He felt her strong arms snake around his neck, felt her warmth against his back. His whole frame rocked with his sorrow, if he could cry, he’d being doing that, in abundance.

Petra held him tight, feeling him shake, feeling him shudder. She frowned deeply and just… held on as Wyatt’s pain overrode him, consumed him. A few hours later, she was sitting there beside him as he collected himself. He’d been quiet for a while. She saw how he had his hands over his rifle, settling it, securing it. “Let me help.” She finally said.

Wyatt sighed and shook his head before pinning her with a serious look. “No. This is my fight.” I loved him too, Wyatt. He shook his head. “You don’t understand, I should have been there.” He stressed.

Petra shook her head at him. “This isn’t your fault, you have to understand that.” Yes it is. He countered. “If it’s your fault than it’s my fault too. I was there too. I was the one who put Uldren in that damned cell, I was the one who—” She was cut off by his hand covering her mouth gently.

It was Wyatt’s turn to shake his head. “No, Petra. He was my brother… the fault is mine.” He was my friend. She said it was such conviction and he knew it was true but it somehow didn’t stack up as much as being a brother did. “I know. And you’re time is coming to join the hunt but not yet.” He still had a few more Barons to destroy.

Chapter 3: Europa

Summary:

Destiny Location: Europa
Original Writing Date: Late 2020

Chapter Text

Europa. The moon itself wasn’t that different than the other ruined worlds he’d been on in his years as a guardian, at least on the surface. It was still impressive and… sad, to see the ruins. To see the evidence of life lost all around where Vex and Fallen both now warred against one another over territory all while Eliksni who were done fighting were caught in the crosshairs. And that was before the guardians moved in and the Vanguard started orchestrating strike missions against House Salvation.

That wasn’t what made Wyatt nervous about being there. The massive mechanical war machines the Fallen had constructed, the intense darkness that dwelled there… none of that bothered him all that much. What did… was the Exo Science facilities. Every Exo, no matter where they were now, was born right there on Europa. Walking through the empty halls and cold labs made his figurative skin crawl. It was so strange… walking pathways his boots knew but his mind didn’t. He knew where to go, which doorway led where… which hall one had to go down to reach specific areas… but the memories of it all were… fuzzy. Like smoke, the harder he tried to grab onto them, the more they slipped away. If only it were simply the memories that he struggled with.

The first time they went down there after they arrived on Europa, Wyatt wasn’t entirely sure what happened. They went through the large front hall… though apprehensive, it was relatively alright. But he didn’t make it past the second lab before he was running. And not towards their enemies, he was fleeing, running away. He’d been gripped with a fear so profound that it had him tripping and sliding in the snow and ice when he dove for the exit, slamming into the opposing wall with his canon drawn and aimed at… nothing. Nothing had been chasing him… but it still took Cassidy a solid fifteen minutes to get him to lower his weapon. Another five for him to slow his heartrate. Something about that place… scared the shit out of him. And he spent the next week trying to find a way to not have to go back down there to complete the mission. There was no way around it, though and soon, he found himself right back there again.

“Yeah, well… I’ll just tell him that… he has to send someone else.” Wyatt gestured in a halting way as he paced in front of Variks, his old friend and recent enemy watching him move anxiously. Him being Zavala.

“There is no one else, Guardian, you know this, yes.” Variks was… he wasn’t sure. True, Europa held many horrors but what horror could have scared Wyatt so? He’d known the ‘Young Wolf’ for many years… long before all of this, long before he left the Reef. And he’d never seen him afraid. He’d seen him worried… but never afraid. He knew it wasn’t Eramis or any other Eliksni that had scared him… so what had?

Wyatt stilled his steps in front of the frosted window and stared out at Europa’s empty but oddly beautiful white landscape, he was quiet long enough for Variks to draw closer. His tenor came out low, unrushed but full of apprehension. “I don’t think I can go back down there.” 

 

Cassidy drifted over his guardian's shoulder quietly... Wyatt had been quiet for... a long time as they stood there before the data core at the center of the server bank. Finally, he couldn't stand the tension anymore. "I know what you're thinking... and... it wouldn't be the Cayde we knew."

Wyatt shifted his weight but his attention was still fixed on the computer screen just there in front of him. "It wouldn't be the Cayde you knew... but it'd still be my brother." He reached slow, index stretching. Guardian... Cassidy's voice was quiet... his tenor heavy with sympathetic sadness. Wyatt felt his throat go so tight that it hurt to just... exist. When he spoke, his voice came out strained. "You can't understand, Cass..."

Cassidy's shell shifted as he drew closer to his guardian. "No... I can't. And I'm sorry for that, Wyatt. But you know that he didn't want to be Cayde seven."

Wyatt chuckled low, shaking his head as he let his hand rest on the keyboard but didn't touch any keys just yet. "You think he was actually Cayde six?" He looked at his ghost pointedly, his voice thick with a tone that said the little light should know better. "More like Cayde sixteen." He looked back at the screen, frowning what little he could with his limited ability at outward expression. Just like there should be another ten added to my number. Hell, every Exo lied about that number on the end, at least... most of them did. "The number of times we stormed the crypt... it's a wonder either of us remembered each other at all."

Cassidy was taken aback by that... and the tone in his guardian's voice, how he included himself in there. He knew that losing Cayde was going to be hard on Wyatt... what he hadn't thought was that it would be this hard and that his guardian would hang onto this pain for so long. At least... hang onto it so intensely this long. He watched as his proud guardian knelt slowly, covering his face with one hand as if to hide from the entire world and everyone all at once. He drifted closer, settling on his shoulder lightly, feeling his bulk shudder under the weight of his sorrow. I miss him. If Cassidy could cry, he would shed a tear for his dear friend and those they had both lost. "I know." Hell, he missed Sundance. Outside Wyatt, she was his... most precious friend.

Wyatt hated this. He hated all of this. He stood up quickly and turned, stormed away from the data core, ignored Cassidy's probing questions as to where they were heading... and made for the coast.

 

Cassidy's shell snapped tight around his little light, but Wyatt wouldn't look at him, his attention was fixed on Elsie... who was staring, unblinkingly back at him in response to his request... that wasn't exactly a request, it had come out more of a demand. Reset me. "Guardian... you don't... you don't mean that..." Cassidy was... he didn't know what to say beyond that!

Wyatt ignored him, he couldn't... he took another step towards her. "Elsie, I know you know how." The wind outside the small capsule type hut howled and screamed, the snow pelting the side of the dwelling, the darkness aided only by a single lamp and the illumination from their eyes and Cassidy's light.

Elsie stared openly at Wyatt. They'd known each other for... a long time. Not as long as she knew others but long enough that she knew why he was asking for this. "No." She answered quietly but firmly, sighing heavily when he cussed her and turned away, pacing around the small space. She felt the pull of regret over why she denied him. She needed him to be just as he is now... if they had any hope of survival. He needed this pain. In her future... she had said yes and reset him and that pain wasn't there to stay his hand. He'd fallen so easily to the darkness' temptation. Why the fuck not?! His tenor boomed out of him in the small space, echoing off the walls, reverberating against the metal. She started explaining her reasoning, finding no reason to keep it from him.

Wyatt shook his head sharply, holding his hands out away from himself in an aggressive manner. "You think the darkness won't tempt me with this!?" He gestured between them. "You think it won't dangle my brother in front of me?" He took a few charging steps towards her, knowing he was making her nervous by the way her hand settled on the butt of her gun. "If you were still close with Ana... and she was gone, you'd understand. But you're not! You don't know the first fucking thing about being a sister, about having that with someone!" His head snapped to the side, the singing of metal-on-metal ringing around them. The blow was quick and decisive and he'd deserved it. He knew that. He took a deeper breath though he didn't need to. The silence stretched between them as he closed his eyes and just... stood there, waiting to hear the doors open, waiting to hear her leave. She didn't.

Elsie didn't expect to feel the sudden sting his words brought. And she didn't expect to act on the uncharacteristic flare of pain in her chest. In her future... well, he didn't know, did he? How could he? She didn't want to rehash all of her pain and her past, or rather, future, mistakes. She knew it was his anger that drove him to say those things but it didn't seem to matter, the pain she felt was still very real. She turned away from him, staring out at Europa's harsh and hard environment. He was quiet almost too long... and when he did speak, his voice was so low that it nearly cut out altogether.

Wyatt had taken a seat slowly, his elbows on his knees, chin on his knuckles as he stared into nothingness. "Cayde sold himself to the Exo program... buy his family out of debt." He chuckled without humor. "He'd always made bets he could never settle." He had the feeling of tears welling but no actual tears. "He had no idea what he was in for... neither did I." He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. "I came out here to do security... figured, what was guarding a lab..." Another humorless chuckle. "I didn't even get to see him before the lights went out." His mind churned as memories pressed against him, the timelines becoming jumbled thanks to the resets he'd experienced. "Meeting again was... the strangest thing. It was... like... hearing the words of a song that you'd once known all the words to by heart... and yet you couldn't remember the melody anymore." He felt the heat in the room kick on, knowing she'd lit it. "From that moment, we were as inseparable as we could be... clinging to each other in this... strange... new world we found ourselves in." He bowed his head and let out a long, heavy breath. "For a while, it wasn't so bad... until he started remember Ace... and Lucy." He sighed, shaking his head. "He was reset... and I was too, shortly after. His for memories... mine for insubordination."

Chapter 4: Way Back When

Summary:

Destiny Location: EDZ? I think (they were never very clear where Zavala's homestead actually was, I'm assuming EDZ/Trostland)
Original Writing Date: 2022

Chapter Text

Safiyah is knitting in her chair when she hears the sudden silence… the sound of wooden stades clacking against one another has stopped. Her sister looks up from her mending at the quiet. She hears murmured voices drifting in through the open window… she sets her knitting aside and climbs to her feet, peering out and immediately feeling on edge. There is another out there with her son and Zavala. Amani too is on her feet. Who is that? The question is issued and Safiyah can only shrug. She doesn’t know.

Zavala’s lips are pressed into a thin line as he stares at the man, hard. “I thought I made myself very clear to Saladin.” He pressed the end of the stade into the soft ground, easing his weight onto it and also setting a barrier in front of his young son. Hakim being barely fifteen.

Wyatt’s limited expression shifted beneath his helmet, a smirk wanting to form. “Oh, your position was made very clear, Zavala. But, that’s not why I’m here.” He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, the pack laden with supplies of various kinds.

Zavala looked over his shoulder slightly before returning his attention to the man. “I’m not sure they’ve ever seen an ex oh before.” He said the words low but they drew the attention of his son. What’s an ex oh, father?

“Father?” Wyatt couldn’t help the question, it just popped right out. His gaze flicked between the two more than once before they landed heavy on Zavala. In truth, he thought him retired to a small settlement, just… taking a break or something. But… father?

Zavala’s features hardened in fierce warning. “Leave it alone, Wyatt.” His gaze immediately flicked up to the man’s ghost, who materialized just over his shoulder. The ghost’s brilliant red and yellow shell catching the afternoon light. Targe immediately zipped past him and the two ghosts fell into rapid fire talking.

Wyatt shook his head slightly and was about to say something but… he sighed – irritating evident in the sound as he gently pushed the two circling ghosts further away from him. “Like a couple of old hens.” He muttered, ignoring the flippant flicker of a shell piece.

Zavala was about to suggest that Wyatt simply state his business and then be on his way when he heard Safi’s call behind him. Zavala, Hakim! Supper! And bring the guest if he is indeed one!

Wyatt fought a sudden bark of laughter that begged to leave him. It still danced in his voice when he spoke though. “Am I a guest, Zavala?”

Zavala grumbled before gesturing for Hakim to go on ahead. “For now.” He said the words low and out the corner of his mouth, feeling the man fall into line beside him.

Wyatt immediately spoke quieter to him. “When Saladin said you’d moved out here to live a quiet life with a woman and a child, I didn’t know he literally meant that you’d settled down.”

Zavala shook his head sharply, his mouth opening to speak only to be interrupted. “Aht…”

Two women! Why, Zavala… you dog.” Wyatt chuckled low and stumbled only a little when Zavala shoved his shoulder.

Zavala fought the smirk but it won out. “That’s her sister.”

Ohhh… sisters. Nice.” Wyatt dodged another shove with another chuckle.

Amani watched the two men walk towards the house. “They are behaving like boys.”

Safiyah glanced over her shoulder from her task of filling bowls with rice. “Friends, then?”

Amani shrugged slightly. “Possibly.” She smiled at Hakim when he trotted inside. “Who’s that with your father.” Hakim shrugged. He called him Wyatt.

Safiyah worried her hands for a moment before gesturing for Hakim to wash up. “He’ll introduce him.” She reassured Amani.

Heavy footfalls scuffed along the porch floorboards, carrying the two large men into the small abode. Zavala didn’t have to duck to enter but the other one did, just a little. The women openly stared, watching as the man offered his pack to Zavala… who took it with a questioning look. Supplies, from Saladin. Was all he said. Zavala looked to Safiyah and they shared a sigh… but she took the pack with a slight dip of her chin to the man. “So, you come from the mountain?” She asked as she took a seat at the table, gesturing to the bowl she’d made for him and the spot beside her sister on the bench.

Amani looked warily at the man as he stepped over the worn wood and eased his weight down with a heavy sigh. He’d just lifted his hands up to remove his helmet when Zavala made a strangled sort of sound, drawing everyone’s attention and pausing the man’s movements.

Zavala took a deeper breath before looking at his… family. “Amani… Safiyah… have either of you ever seen an ex oh?”

Safiyah shook her head no, same as her sister. “I have heard of them, though.” She looked back to the man with raised brows. “Is it… is he… are you one?”

Both women gasped quietly and all three stared at him when he tugged his helmet off, revealing his metal features. His auditory illuminations firing when he spoke, his optics flicking between them all. “Last I checked.” A lame attempt at a joke… but the kid smirked at least.

Safiyah blinked sharply before she shook her head. “Oh! Then, I’m so sorry, you… you won’t need this, then…” She reached for his bowl and jumped when he snatched it back, out of her reach and held it against him as if it were precious.

Wyatt held the wooden bowl up to his chest and leaned away, garnering a chuckle from the kid. “Over my dead body, lady. I’ve been on the road for three days… this’ll be the first decent thing I’ve had to eat.” He even went so far as to bat an imaginary hand away from him.

Zavala chuckled and shook his head, looking over at his confused wife. “Safi… ex-ohs eat and drink just like we do.” He pointed at Wyatt, who was already chowing down… though… “Wyatt… put your damn boot down.” He hated it when the man ate that way.

Wyatt paused mid-bite, his metallic brows raised… his elbow was propped up on his knee, his boot on the bench as he sat there. “Wut…” He swallowed before sighing and dutifully dropping his leg. “Titans… always so by the book… just wanna suck the joy out of everything.” The kid chuckled again, he winked at him.

Amani just stared at him… Safiyah smirked… Zavala rolled his eyes… and the rest of the meal was more of the same. Later that night… Wyatt sat outside with him and the women sat on the porch, pretending not to be listening to the men speak.

Wyatt had his arms wrapped around his knees, sitting comfortably in the grass, he’d glanced behind him at the small house and shook his head slightly before looking back at Zavala. “I go away for a few short decades and leave you alone and look what happens.”

Zavala chuckled and shook his head, plucking at random blades of grass. “Yeah, yeah.”

Wyatt grew serious after the silence stretched out for a moment before he spoke again. Words that drew the women’s acute interest. “You know this won’t last… please, Zavala, please tell me you know that.”

Zavala sighed heavily and tossed a random stick away from him before running his hand over his crown. “I’ve already been over this with Saladin. I’ve heard the arguments. But I refuse to believe that we were risen only to fight and nothing more, that we cannot have this life—”

Wyatt was holding a hand up, trying to get his attention. “That’s not what I’m saying. Zavala… listen to me.” He set that hand on his shoulder and held his gaze firmly. “She will grow old and you will not age… the same thing will happen to the boy. To live amongst mortals is to live with heartbreak. You will watch them all go… and you will be the only one left. I do not say these things to hurt you.” He said the last few words low, dipping his chin to try and regain his eye-contact. “You have to be prepared for that if you’re going to stay here.”

Zavala sighed heavily and bowed his head but finally looked back up at him. The kindness in Wyatt’s voice… and the… he tilted his head slightly, looking at him intently. “… What was her name.” He saw how he started the man, felt it in the way he jerked his hand back and his spine went straight.

Wyatt retreated from him so quickly… he shook his head slightly and shifted around until he was sitting cross-legged, his hands in his lap, looking down at them as he took a deeper breath. “Emily… her name was Emily.” He shook his head again, looking up at the stars. “I was only… fifty years risen? Something like that.” He rubbed at his wrist aimlessly, his gaze kind of going glazed over as memories pulled at him. “She was… beautiful… passionate… and headstrong. Man…” He chuckled, shaking his head as he remembered the way she was. “She had a temper… and she could yell, whoo.” He winced slightly. “She’d give me what for time and again.”

Zavala smirked and shook his head slightly before Wyatt’s voice kind of died down. “What happened?”

Wyatt looked down at his hands again, feeling ages old sorrow well up inside of him. “I had her with me for… seventy years.” He felt a tremor go through him. “And I watched as her body failed her… as time ravaged her… robbed her of her memories.” He closed his optics and bowed his head. “She died on a sunny afternoon… it was like any other day. I remember it so clearly.” He winced again, shaking his head. “I’d made her breakfast… taken it to her… we ate… I drank my coffee… read to her… and I had just stepped out of the room for a moment to take the dishes to the kitchen.” He felt another tremor and he lifted his hand and ran it down his face. “When I got back, it looked like she’d just… fallen asleep. But… Cass… he was going crazy, trying to wake her up… and…” He looked at Zavala so suddenly. “She was gone. Just as quickly as she came into my life… she left it.” He felt a slight weight on his shoulder and didn’t have to look to know… Cassidy settled there, his little light dimming as he too remembered the beautiful woman that they’d both had the honor of knowing. “And had I known then what I know now… that I’d still feel this pain so intensely hundreds of years later… I would still do it all over again.” He took hold of his friend’s shoulder again. “Which is why it’s important for you to understand what you’re getting yourself into. What will happen. And what you’re going to have to be able to deal with… what you’re going to have to accept… so that when death comes calling for your family… you will greet him as the natural part of life that he is.”

Zavala could feel Wyatt’s pain radiating off of him… he knew that for him, whether he’d been risen or not, the story would have been the same. But he knew Wyatt and he knew that he’d be saying all of these things the same way even if he wasn’t an ex-oh. The words he ended with though had him taking a deep, stilling breath. “But... Hakim.” Wyatt’s hold went a little tighter. The boy, too. Not yet, but one day. And his children after him… and down through the generations. Each one, you’re going to have to weather their loss.

Amani watched quietly as Zavala retreated into the house with Safi… the man more than likely fleeing the wise words this ex-oh had delivered unto him. But the man did not make to come into the house… nor join her on the porch. So… she went to join him in the grass. She was curious about him. She knew he more than likely knew she was approaching him, even if he didn’t look over his shoulder at her. “I heard what you said to Zavala.” She admitted openly when she took a seat near him, not as close as Zavala had been but close enough.

Wyatt lifted a brow when he looked over at this woman, the ‘sister’. He gave a subtle nod. “It’s words he needed to hear.” Was it true? “Which part?” The part about the woman. His brow furrowed. “Why would I lie about that?” She gave him a shrug and looked out at the night. People say many things to give weight to their words. He scoffed and laid back slow, easing his weight into a stretch with a heavy sigh, letting one hand lay on his chest and the other behind his head. “I don’t need to add any more weight to those words.” I don’t mean to offend. “I know.” I just have… a hard time understanding how you could still feel so strongly after all this time. He glanced over at her, she was staring right at him, showing no fear in doing so. “Time moves differently for those risen in the light, indeed… for ex-ohs period. We are as ageless as the dawn… and we will be here long after everyone has gone. Five centuries may seem like an eternity to you… but for me, it is but a fraction of the time that I have known.” He saw the whites of her eyes grow for a moment in her surprise. He looked back up at the sky and the scarred moon. “I remember a world full of such wonders… before the Traveler arrived. Before we left this planet in search of others… before humans became so obsessed with finding new horizons.” You were alive before the collapse? He nodded slightly. “I was young but I was here. I became an ex-oh when I was about twenty-eight… it’s not a pleasant time in my memory so I won’t explain it. But I do remember the time before.” He stretched out a sore spot on his lower back for a moment. “My father worked on a war-mind project… he was a brilliant scientist but… naïve and yet… hubristic. My brother was… much the same though more cocky than anything else.” He chuckled low. “Still is.” Still? “He became an ex-oh around the same time.” Because you did? He shook his head slightly. “It wasn’t a choice for either of us, wrong place – wrong time, all of that.” He glanced when he saw her lay down on her side, prop her head up on her elbow and stretch out, keeping him in her focus. “He’s a hunter, like me… though he didn’t go to the mountain. He’s off… being a hunter with some friends of ours.” He chuckled, shaking his head again. “Getting into trouble, more than likely.”

Chapter 5: Friends & Nightmares

Summary:

Destiny Location: The H.E.L.M. (when it was parked outside the Leviathan - when everyone had Pyramid born Nightmares floating around them all red and menacing like)
Original Writing Date: 2022

Notes:

This was written in response to overheard dialogue of Amanda's comment, quoted in the text. I know they patched things up and I'm glad they did. *I* understand her anger. Wyatt? Eh...

Chapter Text

I had a friend. And you murdered him. Wyatt’s metallic brows shot up, his optics widening as his boots literally skidded to a halt there in Crow’s outpost on board the H.E.L.M. He had heard the man talking but he hadn’t known who with or what kind of conversation it was. He was wanting to talk to him about what had happened on the Leviathan. Crow whipped around but not before there was an audible click denoting the end of the transmission. Those same metallic brows of his slowly lowered… lower and lower until they formed deep slashes over his eyes, optics burning in anger.

Wyatt… he heard the man breath his name but he saw the tears in his eyes. He just backed up a step… another, pivoting around and taking more steps, more stairs, more turns… until he was moving at a steady clip. Wyatt! He heard him call for him but he was already moving and he didn’t give two shits about who got in his way as he made way for the hangar bay. He was a freight train as he moved… hearing boot-falls behind him. -Crow’s following us.- Cassidy’s tone had an edge to it, his little light just as angry as he was over what he’d heard.

“Go back, Crow.” He managed, just barely, not to growl the words out. No. Wyatt, please, whatever you’re going to do, just… don’t. He shook his head sharply and flew down a set of stairs, his boots hitting the metal grating with a heavy clang, his weight throwing down each one. He could see the Shipwright standing in her stall, her arms folded over her chest, her head bowed… no doubt the woman was in a great deal of pain but, again, he didn’t give two shits. He walked right past her, even going so far as to just barely not go around her all the way so that his broad shoulder shoved her. It was an aggressive move. He climbed up onto her workbench without a second thought. Wha… Wyatt?! What… what are you doing?! Her voice pitched as he jerked the darts out of his brother’s cloak and took it down off her peg-board.

“Taking my brother’s cloak.” He turned and jumped back down, landing in front of her. She was angry… and hurt… and confused. He held the fabric up in front of her face.

“You don’t deserve this anymore.” He noted that Crow had stopped about half way to her stall. He went around her and felt her hand come down on his shoulder and pull at him. What the hell?! What the hell are you talking abou- her voice caught and he knew she saw him. He turned on her and charged, forcing her back until she was pressed against her work bench.

“I thought you were his friend.” I am! I was! “Crow’s. Not Cayde’s.” He saw the anger flash in her eyes and he scoffed down at her. “Child.” He scolded the word out at her before he jabbed a finger at Crow.

That is Crow. Uldren Sov is dead. I know he’s dead and you know how I know?” He asked the question that wasn’t exactly a question. “Because I put a bullet between his eyes myself.” His tenor was coming out of him louder and louder. “Any debt he had has been paid for in spades! He’s square with the house again!” He barked down at her before he felt another hand on his other shoulder, this one accompanied by a much quieter voice. Wyatt. Please.

He looked over at Crow and shook his head slightly. “You didn’t deserve what she said to you, Crow.” Amanda chose that moment to chime in… and Wyatt could have hit her his anger spiked so high. Cayde was my friend! He bared down on her, feeling Crow’s hold go around his bicep and attempt to pull him back but in reality, he turned into an immovable object when he wanted to. “And he was my fucking brother! You don’t get to walk around here like you’re the only one who lost him! We all did! So, I suggest you grow the fuck up!” He finally let Crow pull him back but he kept his grip on the cloak and turned away and didn’t slow his roll until they were on the complete other side of the H.E.L.M.

And still, he paced… still he held that cloak tight in his fist. He glanced over at Crow every now and again, every other pass… the man was hurting. Again. He finally paused and took a deep metaphysical breath. Ease your storm, brother. He heard Cayde’s voice echo in his memory. “Cayde had always been the one to dive head first into things… never thinking past the next moment.” He knew he had Crow’s undivided attention without even having to look over at him.

“But of the two of us… I had the worst temper. That’ll probably never change.” He shifted the fabric around in his hands and gave it a flick, some dust and who knew what else fluttering free of the folds. The design catching in the fell light cast off the moon as he held it up just enough to see it in its entirety again. He knew Crow was shying away from it and he hated that, hated that he felt the need to.

“This wasn’t always worn by my brother, you know.” He glanced over his shoulder and saw Crow’s almost eerie yellow eyes staring back at him in silent question. He turned and leaned against the railing behind him, draping the cloak over his forearm and settling his hand over it almost reverently, feeling nostalgia pull at him. “The previous Hunter Vanguard… Andal Brask. It was his. I have no idea where he got it from… but he’d always worn it.” He reached down and pulled up the tattered tail of his own cloak, the thing trimmed in wolf’s fur and hell, whatever design it might have had embroidered on it long gone by now.

“Cayde’s wasn’t much different than mine once upon a time.” How did he get it… He shifted his weight. “The dare.” He saw Crow’s spine straighten; he knew about the dare. He’d explained it to him, and Crow knew… that every hunter knew… that it was him who was supposed to take up the station of Hunter Vanguard now. And every hunter… no matter how close they’d been to Cayde respected the laws of the dare. In fact… not a single hunter had ever taken a shot at Crow because of it. “Ages ago… hell, I can’t even remember exactly how long. Andal and Cayde had this bet… a dare. See… the Hunter Vanguard seat stayed empty for… god… a long time.” He shook his head with a bit of a smirking sound. “No one wanted the job.” Hunters haven’t changed much. He chuckled and shook his head again.

“No… we haven’t.” He plucked a stray strand off the cloak and tossed it aside absentmindedly. “The dare was… whoever managed to kill Taniks… got to stay free. The other had to take up the mantel.” His shoulders fell just a little. “Cayde cornered Taniks on Titan. It was a grueling fight… I don’t even know how many rezzes it took but he emerged victorious. And Andal became the Hunter Vanguard. He held the title for a number of years and he was good at it, too.” He shook his head. “But Cayde… hell.” He laid his hand over the cloak again.

“See, Cayde made the killing blow on Taniks and that kell fell into the methane oceans of Titan. He was dead. But…” Crow’s eyes widened slightly in understanding. He didn’t stay dead. “Not really, no. And when he resurfaced… he laid a trap and it wasn’t for Cayde.” Cassidy fluttered out of the in-between and settled on his shoulder, remembering well the loss of Andal and his sweet ghost. “Andal walked right into it… didn’t even see it coming because fuck, Taniks was supposed to be dead.” He saw Crow bow his head and shake it slightly.

“So… Cayde took up Andal’s cloak as a reminder of his failure. His responsibility and promise to his friend… a bet… he lost.” He looked at Crow pointedly. “That’s what the Vanguard was to Cayde. His last words… he called it the greatest bet he ever lost.” He saw Crow shy away again. “Hey… it’s okay to know this about him.” Crow shook his head slightly as he drifted over to the railing and looked out over the view of Leviathan.

To hear every one talk about him… they make him sound like a Saint. He barked out a laugh at that. “Cayde was very far from a Saint. He was… just like any of us. He’s missed, yes. He’ll always be missed.”

He reached and laid his hand on Crow’s shoulder. “But you’d be missed, too, Crow.” He saw the man’s chin tremble just slightly. “Hey… come now.” He reached and grabbed onto his neck, tugging him closer. “Ease your storm.” He said the words low, settling his brow against his. He saw the man shudder in every sense of the word.

I really thought she was my friend. “I know.” He said the words low. “She’s young… and foolish. When you live as long as I have… you learn how precious friends truly are. And you don’t toss them aside so easily.” He felt Crow’s hand come up and grip his forearm. Thank you, Wyatt. I really… I really mean that. I don’t know what I’d do if you… if you saw me the way everyone else does. “Not everyone.” He was quick to correct him.

He walked Crow back to his post… and tucked Cayde’s cloak away in his personal vault. He meant what he’d said to Amanda. She didn’t deserve it anymore. In truth, it didn’t belong to her. It technically belonged to Crow. But he knew the man would never take it. So… he’d hold it until the time came when everyone got over all this hatred. He was lounging unceremoniously in one of the many chairs, feeling his processes slowing as he wound down from the taxing day when Crow’s voice drifted over to him. Wyatt?

“Hmm?” His tenor rumbled out of him, his eyes remaining closed. How come you don’t have a nightmare? His eyes opened slow at that… his gaze drifting over to the red… rippling… ghostly figure of his brother who was sitting nearby on a table. “I do.” What? I… but I don’t see one. He felt the pain twisting inside his metaphysical heart like a knife when Cayde looked up and gave him a sort of smirk and shake of his head, pointing at Crow with his thumb.

“I think it’s because the Pyramid, or the Leviathan or whatever’s making these things… I think it’s because it’s part of it.” He couldn’t look away, watching Cayde clean his gun with the end of his cloak. Something he’d seen him do a million times. How do you mean? “Part of my nightmare is feeling alone… so… no one can see him but me… so I’m alone in my pain.” There was a whole lot of silence before Crow spoke some low words.

It’s Cayde, isn’t it? It took him a moment before he could respond, nodding slightly. “Yeah.” Nightmare-Cayde threw his hands up in a show of disappointment, folding his arms over his chest in another expression of displeasure. What does he say to you? Wyatt felt tears well in his eyes and saw Nightmare-Cayde pull his hood down, his busted and broken face being revealed so clearly. His tenor came out thick, heavy with the pain.

“Nothing.” He lifted a hand and covered his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose and taking a deeper breath. “Can we not talk about this right now, Crow?” There was a long stretch of silence before he could lower his hand… and Nightmare-Cayde had lifted his hood back up, went back to tinkering with his gun. Crow’s voice once again breached the quiet. You’re not alone, Wyatt. He nodded. “I know. I just miss him.” I know. He heard Crow’s sympathetic tone and he appreciated it but didn’t need it right then.

“Let’s get some sleep… got a big day tomorrow.” He muttered, shifting his head back and closing his eyes, lacing his fingers over his chest. Yeah. That’s all he heard from Crow. The last thing he heard echo in his mind before he fell asleep was a single shot from Cayde’s gun. Whether it was the killing blow of Cayde or Uldren, he didn’t know.

Chapter 6: The Truth

Summary:

Destiny Location: The H.E.L.M.
Original Writing Date: Early 2022

Notes:

I know these are all out of order. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chapter Text

Wyatt clinched his jaw as he brushed past Mara, ignoring her existence entirely – he barely registered the feeling of his shoulder slamming into her when she tried to step in his way. He didn’t stop until he was standing just feet from him. Him being Crow. Where being the chamber that housed Savathun’s crystalized form. “Crow…” His tenor came out low, full of concern and worry.

Crow’s eyes shifted around, glancing at Wyatt as the male came to stand nearby. It was always the same, Wyatt always seemed to take up all the space in any room he walked into. “I have to know.” He said the words rough, he was tired of this – tired of it all! Tired of not knowing! He turned, having just heard Savathun’s offer and reached. Glint tried to dissuade him, he wouldn’t be denied this.

Wyatt took a step forward, reaching out a hand. “No, Crow, don’t!” But it was too late. He could do nothing but stand there and watch as Crow’s expression twisted in agony and sorrow before he flinched all over and finally seemed to wretch his hand free. He was hunched over, cradling the appendage, panting. “Crow?”

Crow was… he couldn’t think. He could hardly think. The memories were like an avalanche, all coming on him at once. They were linear but it was as if someone had dropped the string on his head. Words overlapped words and actions overlapped actions. He heard a voice in the here and now but the same one echoed in his mind, this is for Cayde, you son of a bitch. He flinched again and turned, looking at Wyatt with an expression that was all over the place really. “Uldren Sov.” He saw how the male’s spine straightened and the expression on his face flashed a rage so profound that he nearly swayed on his feet. “That’s the man I used to be. And… you…” He let his eyes drift before they locked onto the gun that was right there on Wyatt’s hip. He’d know that gun anywhere. He felt anger well up inside of him. “Why didn’t you tell me.” He ground the words out, his eyes flashing with the accusation and the hurt.

Wyatt hated the name Uldren Sov. He hated the man still, he’d always hate him. But he wasn’t looking at Uldren Sov right at that moment, he was looking at Crow. There was a huge difference. But the question was uttered and though he’d wanted to shy away from the look in Crow’s eyes – he didn’t. “That’s a conversation for another place.” He was not about to start talking about heavy shit like that right here in front of Savathun.

Crow shook his head sharply and turned away. “Never mind.” He left quickly, ignoring the call of his name behind him from Wyatt’s ghost – Cass.

Wyatt cursed under his breath and ignored Savathun’s taunting tone. He was almost out of the room when she uttered words that he couldn’t ignore. It is better this way, O Guardian Mine. Now, he knows the significance of the cloak on your back and the gun on your hip. I often wonder about Cayde Six. Wyatt immediately turned, ace was palmed and aimed before he could think another thought. His tenor came out low and heavy with warning. “You do not get to speak his name, Witch.” Wyatt, please, think. Cass whispered to him and only him. Savathun was quiet but not the kind of quiet where she’d gone to wherever she goes in her mind. This was the pensive quiet. He could feel her attention still very much focused on him. He let the tense silence stretch out before he holstered the weapon and left, if she said anything else, he didn’t hear it.

Wyatt, again, ignored Mara Sov. Ignored her techians. He was on the Helm in the next thought… and walking through the halls, trying to make it look like he wasn’t looking for a wayward hunter. He was honestly surprised to see Crow at his post… he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, his head hanging while Glint hovered nearby. He sighed heavily and felt his chin try to tremble on him but he didn’t let it. He felt Cass’s shell bump against his cheek lightly, he gave him a bit of a pat before he just… slid down to sit next to Crow, not right next to him but close enough. It took him a moment to speak and when he did, he had some of his cloak between his fingers, fiddling with the ragged edge of fabric. “At first… I didn’t tell you because I was worried that there was still some of the man you used to be inside of you. And I didn’t want to remind you of who you were.” He could feel Crow’s awareness pin on him as he spoke. “Then… later… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you… and…” He bowed his head slightly. “It’s hard for me to talk about.”

Crow chanced a look at the male he’d come to respect and, embarrassingly revere. His shoulders were slumped slightly and he looked… sad. He’d never seen him look just sad. He’d seen hurt in his eyes before but never like this. “Why.”

Wyatt looked at him, his lips parting in minor shock before he scoffed and shook his head. “Of course, Savathun would leave out pointed details.” He pulled ace from the holster on his left hip, watching Crow shift anxiously and turn more towards him. Wyatt just laid the piece on the floor between them before he pulled his ace from the holster on his right hip… and laid it down right next to it. His was cleaner, not as rough looking… and instead of the spade, there was a heart on the grip. Wyatt could already feel the sting in his eyes and he hated it. “They were a gift from Banshee.” He looked up at Crow and held his eye with a heavy seriousness. “Matching weapons for matching exos, he’d said.” He knew if he could shed a tear over that memory, he would. “Cayde… was my brother.”

Crow was immediately nervous when he saw the gun… but then… he blinked at the pair of weapons. He looked up when he felt Wyatt look at him. He sucked in a shallow breath at the words he said. “I take it… you don’t just mean… brother in arms.”

Wyatt shook his head and whipped at his face, leaning back against the wall and laying a hand over the weapons as if they could comfort him. “By now, I assume you know that when an Exo becomes a guardian… we don’t always die first.” He saw him nod out the corner of his eye. “Cayde did… I didn’t.” He took a deeper breath. “My name really is Wyatt… has been since the day I was born. Cayde… was really named Cayde.” He felt a wave of sorrow crash into the center of his chest and it nearly took his breath away but he steeled himself against it. “He was two years older than me but always acted younger.” He closed his eyes and took a shallow breath. “I followed him to Europa when he went to work for Bray Tech. We were both guards before…” He gestured vaguely to himself. He shook his head slightly. “I knew you were risen since day one.”

Crow startled at the last, he’d been listening quietly, hearing the soul-stripping pain in Wyatt’s voice. But that last bit… he didn’t really know what to say in response other than, “How…”

Wyatt looked down at his hands, having left the guns unattended, folding his hands quietly. “If Petra wasn’t guarding your body, I was. So, when you went missing, Petra notified me.” He looked at the man quietly. “When someone’s rezzed, it leaves a kind of mark of light.”

Crow took a deep breath to try and still his nerves. “But you didn’t tell Petra.” Wyatt shook his head no. “Why not?” Because she’d track you down and kill you in a heartbeat. “But… why protect me? I mean, I killed—” He blinked sharply at the way Wyatt cut his hand through the air between them.

Uldren Sov killed my brother, don’t you ever confuse yourself with him.” He heard the venom in his voice and he didn’t even try to chase it away. “That’s why I protected you. Because I knew you were not Uldren. You were someone else now, you had no memory of the man you once were.” He sent his gaze to Glint. “And you… should have brought him to the tower. No matter the consequences.”

Glint shifted with a slight nervousness. “They would have killed him.”

Crow glanced between Glint and Wyatt… but Wyatt’s defense of him and what he’d said… that took a lot. “Glint, no they wouldn’t have. I know that now.”

Wyatt gave a subtle shake of his head again. “Doesn’t matter either way.” Another deep breath. “I should have told someone.” He let his head fall back a little harder than he should have, the heavy clang sound ringing out. “But I wasn’t ready to see your face.”

Crow heard the sorrow in those words… and he nodded. “I understand that.” He looked back down at the weapons between them and couldn’t help but think of the way Cayde looked down there on the ground… the defiance in his last moments, the pure rebellious nature that he now knew flowed through every hunter’s veins. It was a painful memory. “What do we do now.”

Wyatt heard the quietness in his words and took another steeling breath. “What we always do. We find a way to defeat Savathun and we secure the system for a little while longer. Keep the Traveler safe… and the people safe… and we protect our friends… and we help Saint.” He couldn’t forget that last bit. He reached down and grabbed his gun, his ace, and holstered it before standing up and taking a step away, feeling like his heart was being left on the floor. But fair was fair.

Crow watched Wyatt get up before he looked down and then up, down, up. “Wyatt… you forgot…” He gestured to the weapon when Wyatt looked back down at him.

Wyatt shook his head slightly. “I didn’t forget anything. Ace is yours now, I was just holding it for you.” At the look on Crow’s face, he faced him again. “Cayde’s will… he left all his belongings to the person who finally took him out.”

Crow looked back down at the gun, picking it up… and cradled it in his lap. He felt… there were so many emotions revolving around this… revolver. “Wyatt… I can’t…” He almost startled when he saw Wyatt’s hands come into his field of vision, pushing his fingers closed around the gun, squatting there in front of him.

Wyatt held his gaze steady. “You can and you will. This weapon is more than a gun. This is a legacy of defiance… of freedom. This is the hand of my brother… and of myself. This is the hand of our weapons master. This is our history and our future. This weapon is forged from the light… it’s beyond powerful in the right hands and devastating in the wrong ones. This is the second time these hands have held this gun… and now, it’s finally in the right ones.”

Crow felt like he was going to freaking cry! Who the hell knew Wyatt could be so poetic! “But… people will—”

Wyatt held a hand up again. “People can take a flying leap. But… if it makes you feel better…” He looked down at the weapon and held his hand over it… a deep breath and he exhaled long and low… slight charges of electromagnet energy left his palm and his fingertips, arching to the gun… flying around it and back to his hand, the molecules on the outside of the weapon shifting and rolling, changing… until it settled into a façade that seemed to honor Osiris more than anything else… the barrel looked wider… in fact, it looked like a different gun all together.

Crow stared in disbelief. “It can do that?”

Wyatt nodded. “It can do that… and it has a few more… paint jobs.” He smirked. “But… it’s the same weapon with the same power.”

Chapter 7: Botska

Summary:

Destiny Location: Botska Eliksni Quarter
Original Writing Date: 2021

Notes:

Yet again, out of order. -_-

Chapter Text

Wyatt had just fallen into his seat, his ship humming comfortingly beneath him. He scrubbed at his face, so many of his mannerisms still left over from the time when he was human and needed to do such things. He sighed heavily, again... left-overs. Guardian. There's an emergency. You are needed back at the Tower. Immediately. Ikora's short but firm message came over his coms, he spread his fingers and stared at the screen on his dash... though she wasn't there, it was just her voice. "What now..." He said the words low, heavy, feeling the weight of every single one of them. The last trip into the Vex Network had weighed even heavier upon him.

"She sounded... concerned." Cass' words came from over his shoulder as he tinkered behind him.

"Yeah." Wyatt's tenor grumbled out of him as he shifted in the seat, his leg having been thrown over the arm rest improperly as he slouched off to the side, but now he was righted and sitting correctly, reaching for the controls. "Better get back over there, see what else has happened that they can't handle on their own." His grumble garnered a sigh from Cass. He ignored it.

Wyatt felt like a servo popped and fizzled somewhere inside his brain as he listened to Ikora recount the vandalism that had occurred within the Eliksni quarter the night prior. "And no one saw anything?" He questioned through a clinched jaw, his stance widened as his hands fisted there before him, his thumbs tucked into the front of his belt to try and hide the action. But she saw it. She was very observant... and she saw the anger that was damn near dripping off of his shoulders. No. Saint is already on site.

"Jesus." He cursed roughly, shaking his head and looking away. "Wrong person to send." He muttered. He is torn between duty and doubt... she went on to lament but his deep tenor cut her off. "He's prejudice, Ikora, and you know it. He lets his hate blind him." He looked out over the city. "And Lakshmi has poisoned the city and furthered his own bias." She was quiet for a few moments, he simply listened to the wind blowing around them before she spoke. Please, Wyatt... go down there and be the calm they need right now. "I cannot promise that." He shot her a look that said she should know better than to ask. At least try. Please. He scoffed and looked away again, grumbling under his breath as he turned and stalked away. He heard her soft thank you behind him and he just threw up a hand. He would try but he made no promises.

And he knew that his trying was going to go right out the window as soon as he transmatted in. Lakshmi was standing beside Saint, opposite Misraax. "Son of a bitch." Wyatt ground out, his pace quickening, his boots chewing up the war-torn rubble filled ground. He felt Cass pushing against his mind. Wyatt, calm down... just calm down! But as all three looked over at his approach, his eyes flicked past them and his entire body sort of locked up for a second... his steps slowing as his optics flickered from blue to red and back again a few times before it settled on a sort of odd purple.

"What..." He was... Ikora had told him that there had been vandalism but... he walked between them all and one jump later, hoisted himself up onto the platform and was over by the tanks, crouching own and brushing his fingers over the ashen ground in front of the exploded and useless... and very empty ether tanks. "Wha..." He was just... stunned. He looked right and then left suddenly feeling panic sort of grip hold of him before he felt a clawed hand on his shoulder, he glanced up and let out a relieved breath.

"You weren't near them, where you?" He stood up quickly, looking down at Rashas, the female Eliksni that was in charge of rationing, who also was in charge of three hatchlings... she was always beside the tanks. No, Wolf, hatchlings needed changing. I was in the other building; I didn't see them. He heard the anger in her voice, and the sorrow. He nodded, his hands settling on his hips as he gave her a quick once over. They destroyed the other tanks too. All the ether, it's gone. His optics flickered again and he saw her take a subtle step to the side, shifting her head slightly to look at him oddly. Your storm grows, Wolf. Ease it. Misraaks Kell demands no retribution on the humans. He clinched his jaw and shook his head sharply. "Maybe from you."

He turned away sharply and jumped down, landing in a sort of odd stand and immediately talking a charging step towards the three, who had since fallen back into talks. Well, talks was a kind way of putting it... he heard Lakshmi... and he just... Cass flashed beside him, hovering beside his ear, his words coming out rushed and sounding breathless, urgent and pressing. Please, Wyatt, calm down. Don't do anything rash, Ikora wanted us to be a calming influence here, please don't. But Wyatt didn't hear him, not really... all he heard was a strange whooshing sound, almost as if it were his own blood rushing in his ears but that was impossible, he knew that. But it sounded the same.

Saint held a breath for a moment as he watched the Young Wolf charge between them all and come up so close to Lakshmi, he wasn't sure the man was going to stop at all! He looked as though he was going to charge right through her! And when he did stop, his face was damn near brushing against hers... it was... impossible to misinterpret his mood or intentions. It was a hostile move... aggressive... angry. Lakshmi... wisely... grew quiet. He'd known Wyatt for a long time... he'd saved him... and he revered him, in a certain sense. But... with regards to the fallen here, they diverged so greatly that he wasn't sure they could ever reconcile their opinions on the matter. It was because of that that Saint felt... almost frozen as he watched this power struggle before him.

"I think you should leave." Wyatt's tenor came out low... and angry. His stance widened when he stopped, it said he was ready to attack... and he felt ready, even as Cass kept whispering to him to calm down.

Lakshmi kicked her chin up. "I am not the one who should be leaving. These fallen infest our city and---" She took a step back, her expression falling as she felt fear lick at the back of her mind.

Wyatt jerked all over, his eyes igniting as flames flew over his entire body, flickering close to him, but burning white hot as his anger manifested by way of his light. "Leave!" His tenor boomed out of him, his fists clinched... so he didn't draw his weapon. "Or I will make you leave." He ground out the last few words as he took a threatening step towards her, his brows held low. When he saw that he had successfully gotten her undivided attention. "You are banished from the Botska quarter, Lakshmi two. And you are to report to Ikora Rey in the tower immediately." He ground out.

Lakshmi felt a tremble fly down her spine at the tone in his voice, the look in his eyes. She knew well that this guardian was... well, it was a good thing he fought for the light, most of the time. "You don't have the authority to banish me." She challenged, standing as tall as she could in the face of the heat coming off of him.

Saint had took a jarring step back, as did Misraaks... and the Eliksni in the camp... well, they had all started paying close attention. Saint saw the ground charring under Wyatt's feet... he knew that the man was moments from going super nova, whether he wanted to or not. "Wyatt..." He started in but his voice caught in his throat at the look he shot him.

Wyatt shot Saint a look that screamed he had better shut up right quick and in a hurry before he returned his attention to Lakshmi. "You aren't a guardian, Lakshmi. And this is Vanguard territory. I have every authority." He kicked his chin off to the side, indicating a direction. "And I believe I gave you an order... civilian." He ground the term as if it were derogatory and he saw that she took it that way too.

Saint watched as Lakshmi took another step back and looked like she wanted to say more... but wisely didn't and left without another word. He watched as Wyatt almost... snorted like a bull and took a deeper breath than he ever needed to. Mithrax drew his attention though... and he wasn't entirely sure what he felt about what the fallen had to say. Monsters. He looked over at Wyatt, who had sense calmed and was leaning against a nearby wall, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes cast down though still that odd purple... showing that he was still plenty angry.

Wyatt listened as Misraaks told Saint of how they saw him. Since Saint had said his piece about expectations and monsters. Saint had grown quiet... and remained as such. He shook his head slow and his tenor came out low. "What happened here was nothing short of terrorism, Saint. The people who snuck in here... knew where to hit these people where it'd hurt them the most." He felt a soft padding against the back of his knee and he reached a hand down, brushing the young Eliksni's crested hair down and palming the back of her tiny head as she wrapped around his calf and hung on with all her arms and legs, content to just hang there as if he were a branch or post. "Their children will go hungry tonight because of it."

Saint watched Wyatt... and the small fallen... and how it so trustingly embraced the Young Wolf's leg. It struck him suddenly... Wyatt must... spend a great deal of time here for these fallen to trust him so much. "Wyatt... you don't understand."

Wyatt pinned him with a firm look. "Don't I?" He aimlessly continued to brush the young's crest down over and over with his thumb, staying still and keeping the tension out of his hand and leg. "Do I not have to look upon the face of my brother's murderer every day?" His optics dimmed to a dark indigo... sadness bleeding onto his voice. He saw Saint bow his head and look down at his hands, clasped before him gently. "Saint..." He took a deep breath and shifted his weight, feeling Elijah hold onto him tighter. "If we judge these Eliksni for the actions of others of their kind, then shouldn't we too be judged for the actions of the Warlords of the past?" Saint looked up at him sharply, Wyatt just gave him a shrug. "It's unfair to put the burden of blame on Misraaks and his house when they aren't the ones who pulled the triggers. Just as it was unfair to expect the people to look at us and not see Warlords when we first came to protect the city. To look at us and not see Dredgen."

Saint looked out over the war-torn vista that was this part of the city... the sad nature of it. And he felt... deep shame welling up inside of him. They had put these... Eliksni... in the worst part of the city. In a place where there was no light, no comfort... as if they were nothing more than refuse. And Lakshmi... she bred that hatred amongst the people, urging them to feel the same as she. "Don't think that my heart is not torn with this, Wyatt... one moment I see these... Eliksni... and it bleeds for them... but then in the sleep, I dream of those who I failed to save, those I saw fall at the hands of those fallen... and I wake with an anger that I feel so great that I cannot breathe." He reached up and tugged his helmet off, letting the cool air brush against his sensitive facial plates, feeling Mithrax's stare like a thousand needles.

Misraaks stared as Saint revealed himself. In truth, he hadn't known it was a helmet. Now, seeing him as... an Exo... he was... somehow less formidable and yet, somehow, it made his deeds more atrocious. They were quiet for a time before he took a deep, shuddering breath. "The Great Machine does nothing without purpose." He saw Wyatt give a subtle nod of agreement. He had begun, some time back, when they first arrived and he'd first started spending time with the one they had called the Young Wolf... he had begun to realize that many did not know that Wyatt was... oddly... deeply reverent of the Great Machine. He believed her to be his guide, a guide to them all. A benevolent being that was a teacher and a protector. "Maybe, the Great Machine resurrected the Crow..." He looked at Wyatt and weathered his intense, warning look. "So that you, Wolf, might learn the lesson of acceptance." He shifted his attention to Saint. "And maybe, she has put us together so that we both may learn that same lesson."

Wyatt had been thinking the same thing for quite some time but hadn't voiced it. He just gave another nod before he bent low and worked Elijah from his leg, the young drifting. The subtle clicks and dove like coos coming from her as he lifted her to his chest, letting her arms wrap around his neck and shoulder, her legs around his torso, a hand pressed against her back as he held her in place though she was doing a fine job of doing that on her own. "I'll leave tonight, Misraaks. Head for the shore... I know the Spider has a hoard of either. I'll bring some back."

Misraaks looked over at Wyatt and, behind his mask, his look softened into fondness at the way the man so easily embraced his young. Elijah was a sweet hatchling, so trusting... so gentle. She was not going to grow into a warrior. She was more than likely going to grow into a caretaker of other hatchlings, she was gentle that way. And he had seen how Wyatt's attention to her had actually made her more gentle, as if he was teaching her that gentleness or at least, coaxing it out of her more every time he showed her this thing the humans called affection. "The Spider will not part with his either cheaply." He said the words low, feeling shame lace through him at the fact that they had nothing of value.

Wyatt shrugged slightly as he started past him, aiming for the rest of the camp and Elijah's caregiver so that she may put the young to bed for the night. "I'll figure something out."

Saint watched Wyatt pass and was stilled by the small fallen on his shoulder, the four glowing eyes barely open, the soft purring sound coming from the child... and the look it gave him was... not full of hate nor bias, it simply was. As if he was supposed to be there, as if it was normal for him to be there... it was not afraid of him. "I'll go with you." He said the words low and looked down at his helmet. "And I'll make it known that we are going and why." He looked up at Mithrax and shook his head slightly. "I... I grow set in ways. Lifetimes are hard to change and I know that it doesn't seem as such but I am trying." He gestured to the blown open tanks. "This... should never have happened."

Misraaks watched Wyatt pass and clicked a few times to Elijah, who waved a few claws in his direction. Saint's voice drew his attention and he gave a subtle nod. "As am I." Then the next and he nodded too for that. "It was... inevitable. Lakshmi's messages ensured it."

Saint nodded this time. "If Ikora has called her back to the tower... I am sure that she is being reprimanded. I... return as well." He just turned and left... the night had left him reeling... and he had a lot to think about. But, he'd told Geppetto to place a small security device, a camera, he wanted to see what Wyatt did in the camp... if he stayed... and why these fallen seemed to accept him so willingly. He watched nearly the rest of the night...

Wyatt unhooked Elijah from him slow and eased her down into the arms of Keela, smirking as the Eliksni chattered at him in thanks. She didn't speak the human speech but she was learning, slowly. But it was late. A few minutes later and he was sitting on the third floor, the crumbling cement beneath his bent knees as he perched there, his long-gun out as his eyes narrowed, surveying the perimeter. He'd set trip-sensors after he'd spoken with Misraaks and they'd rounded everyone, everyone to the camp and told them of the sensors he'd put in place.

They weren't his trip-mines but he had seriously thought about it... but he didn't. He didn't want the House being blamed if someone got hurt. He heard gravel shifting behind him and glanced, smirking and looking back out over the war-torn quarter. Eido swung down to sit beside him, she was quiet for a time before speaking. You grew great anger today. He chuckled low. "I lost my temper, you mean." Idioms are something I am still learning. "I shouldn't have." You were angry. "Yes." Why? He gave her a low-browed look of minor confusion. "You know why. Those tanks and the supplies..." He lead on.

She tilted her head at him, the many trinkets and necklaces, beads and talismans she had clinking quietly. But they are not your sustenance. They are not your warmth. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It shouldn't have ever happened." You sound angry even now. He nodded once. "Because I am." But why? He felt frustration digging its claws into him. "Eido... it's called empathy." Empathy? What is word. He thought for a moment before shifting and looking at her, setting his gun aside and drawing his knife, watching her go tense. He lifted his hand and drove the tip into the center of his palm and watched her wince and clinch a fist. "That. You just winced and held your own hand... but the knife didn't hurt you. It didn't stab you." He put the knife away, feeling Cass knitting his sensors and servos back together.

"That's empathy. Those supplies weren't mine and that either wasn't mine but I know what it's like to be hungry and not be able to eat. I know that emptiness." He settled the long gun on his thigh, the butt digging in there. "The injustice that was done to your house last night was... inexcusable." Eido rubbed at her hand thoughtfully before nodding. Empathy. "Empathy." You feel... sorry for us? He shook his head slightly. "That's sympathy. There's a subtle difference... sympathy is there but that's not the same. Empathy is thinking of what it'd feel like if it were you. Putting yourself in their shoes." He gestured lightly. But Eliksni don't wear shoes. He chuckled, shaking his head... chuckled again and then let it turn into a quiet laugh. What is funny? He looked at her and gestured. "You are." He saw her bristle. "I'm not laughing at you, Eido. It was just another idiom." She was still bristled. "Oh..." He waved her off. "You worry too much." I worry enough. He sort of rolled his eyes, in a fashion. They were quiet for a long time before he felt her looking at him... for awhile before he finally sighed. "What do you want to ask?" She did this from time to time.

Eido studied the Wolf... he was... solemn and strange. It was odd to speak to a machine but know he was not a machine, that he was once human. He'd explained it to her and to be honest, it was horrifying to think that he had undergone this procedure willingly. But he had. Now, it was as if he were trapped inside this metal body but he did not act as though he felt that way. But she still had so many questions. "Have you loved someone since you became a machine?"

Wyatt felt his spine straighten involuntarily. He knew she was curious, Exos were a mystery to... hell, even a lot of people had questions. But... he'd made the decision awhile back when they first started talking that he'd answer her honestly. No matter what it was. But... at the time, he hadn't thought she'd ask things like this. He took a deep breath and ran his thumb down the stock of his long gun thoughtfully before nodding, his voice came out low and solemn. "Yes." Another machine? He shook his head. "No." A human? "No." Awoken? "Yes." He felt her surprise.

Eido held the awoken in high regard, to learn that the Wolf had loved one? She was beyond curious! "How long ago?" How long ago what? Did I meet her or how long ago did it end? She heard the sadness in his voice and saw how he looked down, fidgeting with his gun's stock in a way that said he didn't want to talk about this. But... she wanted to know! "Both."

Wyatt really... really didn't want to talk about this. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. "I met her..." He had to think for a moment. "About... five... no... yes... five hundred years ago?" He looked up at the dark sky. "And she ended it... about a hundred years ago." You sound sad. "It makes me sad to think of it." Do you still talk to her? "From time to time." He said openly. Will you tell me who she is? He looked at her carefully... he knew Eido had spent time with the awoken. "You'd have to keep it silent." He knew she didn't understand the word secret. But she understood discretion.

Eido nodded and shifted closer, aiming to hear him better. "I will keep it silent between us." He was quiet almost long enough that she though he wasn't going to say. And when he did say, she thought that maybe she had heard wrong. Petra Venj. "The... The Queen's Wraith?" Yes. She stared at him for a moment before clearing her throat. "Do you love her still?" .... Yes. "Does she know that?"

Wyatt sighed and shifted his weight. "Probably." He heard Eido preparing to ask something else and he sighed. "Eido... I really don't want to talk about this anymore." He felt her disappointment radiate off of her.

Eido tried to sigh quietly but it still rattled out of her. She was quiet for a long time, sitting there beside this strange creature she had come to like quite a lot, actually... she could see herself calling him friend, if their worlds would allow it. She wasn't certain if they would. Finally, she couldn't contain her question any longer. "... Do you miss her?"

Wyatt closed his eyes and bowed his head, shaking it slightly. He knew she couldn't keep quiet for too long, her questions would buzz around her mind until she got them out. He supposed that was what made her such a good scribe and historian, the keeper of her House's stories. He felt memories flow through him and he shuddered, shaking them off both figuratively and literally before he let his eyes flow over the worn landscape. His tenor came out low... quiet... and with a longing he knew he had no right to feel anymore. "... So much that I try not to think about it."

Eido's expression shifted to a thoughtfulness laced with a certain amount of surprise. She lifted her upper hand slow and let it hover hesitantly before settling it on his shoulder, feeling him stiffen slightly but he didn't move otherwise. She could feel the strength coiled beneath her hand, and not simply because he was made of metal. This man had a big heart... and it shuddered within him. She thought... he'd love Petra until the day he died his final death... for him, it was that simple. She supposed, perhaps, that was what so many of her brethren here liked about this guardian. Maybe, this was what her father saw in him.

This... totality in his thinking, this steadfastness that he had to stand so firm in the face of such insurmountable odds. She didn't expect to hear him speak any further, her attention having already shifted to stare out over the night basked cityscape. When we were younger, it was easier to pretend that we could be together. My brother and I... she heard the bone-deep sadness in his voice even as he gave a sort of odd chuckle. We caused our fair share of trouble with our friends... and we caught the eye of the Wraith. Hauled in before the Queen, Petra parlayed on our behalf... it wasn't long before we were working together... and less time after before I was foolishly following closer behind her than I should have been.

She felt him take a deep breath and wondered, not for the first time, why he did such things... perhaps it was mental, left-overs from when he was human. I loved her from the first moment I saw her... his voice near whispered out of him, she saw him shift his hold on his gun... and her eyes widened slightly when she saw the gilded sun emblazoned on the stock... and knew it for what it was. The symbol of the Dreaming City, a place few knew of but he clearly did. I know she cared for me in her own way... but for Petra, duty reigns above all else. And loving someone... is loving all of them. She felt him seem to grow colder, physically chilling... and she saw the ice seeming to creep out from his grip on his gun... she had seen his anger cause his fire... and now his sadness seemed to cause his Europa born stasis... the darkness seeping from him in his sorrow.

She didn't fear the stasis he wielded... she had talked with him at great lengths about it with her father... his stress that all beings, no matter their origin, had both the capacity for light and dark, and to have one is to have the other for they cannot exist without the other... he put her mind at ease, even if her father was still anxious over its presence. When the King challenged Mara... Petra chose her side. He glanced down at his hand and changed his gun to his other, shaking it out, sending the stasis away as if he'd only just realized what was happening. She chanced a small question; her voice came out as gentle as she could make it. "What happened..."

He sighed again. I had gone to the dreaming city... tried to convince Petra not to fight, not to go... it was a battle they could not win. She didn't listen... and was angry that I tried to keep her away from the fight. She... she didn't understand that my concern was coming from a place of fear. He shook his head and she saw horror flicker over his features for a brief moment. The hive are not to be underestimated and Mara Sov... she heard the anger in the way he sneered the Queen's name and it took her aback slightly. Was doing just that, leading her people into this battle out gunned and out numbered.

He looked down and shook his head again. Petra sent me away... and barred me from returning to the city. Eido's spine straightened as she leaned away slightly in her shock. He... he was only trying to protect her and she... she didn't understand. "But they did lose..." He nodded and she saw how he closed his eyes, shaking his head again. It took weeks before I knew if Petra had survived or not. And when I found out... I met with her on the reef. She was... too proud. And she was hurt, morning over the loss of her Queen.

He hated Mara Sov for that one fact alone, the way she had hurt Petra the way she had, making her think her dead. I was... angry and... I didn't handle it very well. He looked up at the sky and frowned slightly. Petra's words were like barbs... whipping across my broken heart and I... I said things I shouldn't have. And... I went and picked a fight I had no business picking. Eido watched as he grew grim faced, his attention fixed back on the cityscape. "With who..." The name he uttered made her hiss quietly, her expression going intense. Crota.

After her response he continued. Oryx hurt the woman I love... so I struck him where it'd hurt him the most. Sent his son into the abyss... and in so doing, called down the King. He shook his head. They sing songs of that victory, tell stories of how I... he gestured lazily before him as he spoke. Killed the Taken King in single combat, they call me King-Slayer. He scoffed, shaking his head. They leave out the part where I was marooned on the dreadnought, leading my fireteam into a place where no light shined. Shiro... Xander... they followed me into that hell and I let them. We had no business being there and I foolishly thought that our light would save us. He scoffed again. We barely survived. It was by chance that I struck the killing blow, nothing more. It wasn't fate, it wasn't skill and it damn sure wasn't some ordained miracle. Not the way they speak of it now. Xander was moments from his final death... Shiro could hardly walk... and I... he looked down at his gun, he'd laid it over his lap. I had been Wyatt-two. There was so much damage... I lost... years worth of memories. All because of my stupid fucking... misplaced anger.

Eido settled her lower hand on his back as well, feeling a subtle tremor there. Eido... there is no greater fear for an Exo than a reset. To know that you may not wake up being you... that you can be... just erased... just... gone. Eido... had never thought about that. "There aren't... safeguards? Backups?" There is one backup. But... he grew quiet, tracing a line on the stock of his gun. "But..." She prompted. It's on Europa... in the Exo Science facility. It's a copy of all the Exos when they first became Exos... it... it would be like I had just become an Exo. I wouldn't have any memory of my life as a guardian. I wouldn't know anyone that I know now. And I would be confused... more than likely hostile, considering my personality.

He attempted a jest, she gave him a sort of smirking sound. But the thought was a sobering one... and a sad one. And... it made her think for a moment before looking at him carefully. "You... you never died, did you? To become a guardian, I mean." She watched him grow quiet, and his jaw went tight, the way he did whenever he didn't want to answer her. But she knew he would. It took him a moment, but he did. No. I did not. Exos don't always die when they become guardians... Eido couldn't... she reached without thought and turned his face towards her, kind of just looking at him all over as he leaned away, trying to get out of her hold before he took hold of her arm and pushed her hand away, not roughly but firmly, desiring freedom of her inquisitive hold. "Apologies. But... you... so you've witnessed it all... you saw the great collapse of your people... the golden age... all of it?"

Wyatt knew it was curiosity that made her... kind of go weird there for a second. He gave her a subtle nod. "Yes. I've seen it all... and... the more things change, the more they stay the same. The way the people are acting in the city, the way Lakshmi is acting?" He saw her nod in response. "Nothing new at all. Your people are just the most recent to feel the harsh reality of prejudice." But... why are humans like this? He gave a subtle shrug.

"People fear what they do not understand. And they don't want to understand anything new." She scoffed and he dipped his chin in her direction, his gaze slowly tracing the perimeter again. "Exos were treated the same when we left Europa after we took it down." You took it down? He smirked. "Not me personally, we all did. What Clovis Bray did there was..." He shook his head. "Lakshmi's most recent broadcast..." He looked over at her intently.

"Exos have always closed ranks when it comes to the secrets of Europa. We've protected what has happened there... with good reason. Humans will try and do it again, they will always dabble where they are unwelcome. But Lakshmi's broadcast, her claim that the quote unquote fallen were the ones that brought the Vex here?" He shook his head at her. "We both know that isn't true." She nodded but he could tell she was still somewhat confused. "I'd tell you now but... you'll hear it when I send out the message in the morning."

Eido's brow perked upwards in surprise and... curiosity. "Message?" Yes. I'm done being silent. Lakshmi's false statements and fearmongering... someone needs to set this particular record straight because her trying to blame your people for the Vex and in so doing, for the never-ending darkness that's going on right now? It's not just wrong, it's dangerous. She nodded in agreement. She'd let him keep his silence for now.