06 September 2717
European Dead Zone, Earth
I got up early, as I always do, and was out of town before dawn, my Ghost bobbing along behind me. I began my patrol circuit casually, at a walk, gradually increasing speed. Before long, I was running, my senses reaching out to take in everything around me. Periodically, I stopped to listen, to look around, to absorb my environment. Warlocks and Titans are both very good at what they do, but neither can rival the focus and the attention to detail of a Hunter on patrol. Moving swiftly, I had three kilometers down before the sun's glow began to warm the Eastern sky behind me. I've been based out of The Last City for over three years now, but every so often, I just need this.
Since the beginning of
what the Speaker is calling the Age of Triumph, the Forces of the City have
been hard at work establishing new footholds in regions of Earth that were
previously lost to Humanity. Over the past two weeks, my Fireteam has
been assigned to ensure the security of one such outpost, deep within the
European Dead Zone. Located at the top of a modestly sloped mountain, the
small town appeared to have been built as some sort of recreational
destination. There wasn't much to be scavenged from such a place to begin
with and it was doubtful that any Humans had visited it since the
Collapse. But it was remote, elevated and defensible; all of which made
it favorable to the Vanguard.Normally, such a deployment would have meant daily skirmishes with the Eliksni, but we hadn't had a single enemy contact since our arrival. We weren't the only ones experiencing this; in fact, Eliksni sightings on Earth were becoming pretty rare, almost as if they'd packed up and left entirely. None of us really believed that, and it was a decidedly strange feeling to not see them after having them lurking at our doorstep for so many long years. Still, nobody was complaining about the shortage of combat, and we’d found plenty to keep us busy during the lull.
Titans love their walls, and my teammate Aron was certainly no exception to that. He had busied himself with the construction of defenses. More often than not, he would be found amongst the work crew, lending his considerable strength to the effort of solidifying our position. The wall protecting our little town was completed during our first week here, and since then Aron had spent most of his time looking for potential weak points and then mitigating them. Greater reinforcement of the wall, interlocking fields of fire, elimination of any significant cover that could be used by an attacking force. As I ran through the forest, Aron was aboard our Hawk, the VTOL troop carrier assigned to our Fireteam, flying back to the City to pick up additional supplies.
While Aron had been busy shoring up the defenses, Garm-12 had slipped into scholar-mode. He spent his days exploring. Not the adventurous kind of exploring, mind you. More like wandering through the dilapidated structures outside our perimeter, learning everything he could about the area and the people who had died here during the Collapse. Initially, I had reservations as to the usefulness of this, but he quickly bore results in the discovery of a network of tunnels and elevators. In one of his dinner-time history lessons, Garm explained that during the later days of the Golden Age, people had come here to get away from their day-to-day lives. They enjoyed the seclusion and found it relaxing to leave modern technology behind. In order to maintain the tranquility of the location and minimize the visibility of vehicle traffic to the vacationers, supplies were actually delivered some fifteen kilometers away and then transported through the tunnels to a staging area located deep inside the mountain, several thousand feet under the town. As stocks dwindled, needed items would be transferred up via the elevator system to replenish them. At the time of the Collapse, the staging area had quickly been converted to a shelter. Not long after, it became a tomb.
I ran until I reached a place where the Earth was torn asunder. Towering cliffs rose on each side of the long, jagged wound, which had filled with water over the centuries since the Traveler’s last stand. I stood at the Eastern edge and gazed out, enjoying the view. The rough plan I’d laid out before leaving called for me to turn to the South and skirt the edge of the chasm for a few kilometers before turning West, toward home. I lingered for a few moments longer and that’s when my Ghost spotted it.
“Single aircraft to the Southwest of us, traveling due East,” she reported in her tinny little voice. “Cabal.”
I shouldered my Scout Rifle and using the scope, I quickly picked up the aircraft. It was one of the gunships we’d come to know as Harvesters. I shook off my surprise and keyed the Fireteam comm.
“Garm.” He didn’t answer.
I swore under my breath and tried again. Still nothing.
“We’d better get going,” my Ghost urged. “I’ll keep trying him while you run.”
I didn’t bother to reply. I was already running. I had covered about five hundred meters when I suddenly felt as though I was being turned inside out. My nerve endings burned white hot and I collapsed in mid-stride, body crashing into the forest floor as I lost consciousness.
***
I’m not entirely sure how long I was out, but it was dark when I woke. Every part of me hurt. My vision was blurry. I called out to my Ghost, but didn’t get a reply. I reached around until my fingers found my Scout Rifle. I sat in the darkness for a minute or so and my vision slowly became more focused.
My ghost was lying in the dirt a couple meters away. I crawled over and picked her up. It was then that I understood. Our Light was gone, and with it our Immortality.
I tucked my Ghost away in a belt pouch and struggled to my knees. I vomited almost immediately. All sense of balance and equilibrium was gone. I sagged back to the ground. I didn’t know what to do.
What use would I be as a Guardian if I couldn’t even stand up? Without the Light, was I still a Guardian at all?
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