Chapter Text
The Botza District is finally starting to take the shape of something that is not only rubble and dust. Those who came not only camp but live here, having through hard work turned old buildings into new, if temporary accommodation, and for what it’s worth it does not look like anyone is having a downright bad time here. For what it’s worth, they call it home.
Still… It is… pitiful. What's more it is very pitiful but you got to keep a positive attitude.
To be frank, you sometimes wonder if you should stop coming here. It is sort of your everyday duty to bring the refugees as many supplies as Vanguard storages can allow, and then whatever you might’ve scavenged on your own, and you often times stay to help them in any manner they might require… but you can’t deny the everyday sight of their state gnaws at you from inside out and instead of feeling like you’re doing something worthwhile, all you can feel is anger at the fact nothing is changing .
… ‘Saving the world’, huh ? The mocking thought haunts you.
For what it’s worth, you at least feel like you’re doing a good thing while you’re here. The Eliksni have taken a liking to you, and so have their children, for whom you put on the best smile you can manage with a face such as yours. They’d excitedly cling onto your arms and wait for you to take them for a ride, and you’d oblige, spin as they screech the utterances of excitement in their foreign tongue. You always spoke little, smiled a lot, and eventually, completely by accident, you’ve become their unintended playmate.
It could have had something to do with the fact you were a ‘cool looking robot’, as they put it, too, though you always had to put in some extra effort to maintain your smile then.
You try not to think of it as ‘hating’ being an Exo… but you can’t help but perceive humans - what you must’ve once been - with a dose of envy. There is a lot of natural beauty in them, whereas there is more of a… technological marvel, about the likes of you. Judging by the stories you hear about people such as Saint or the late Hunter Vanguard, few people paid any attention to it at all - Exo or human, or an Awoken, it mattered little. Which, by all meanings of the word, was good.
… So why did it never feel so?
Suzu keeps saying it takes some time getting used to. After all, you haven't been Risen for very long, she says. Some still refer to you as the New Light, in fact. You remember it so clearly, waking up beneath the shallow sea on the top of ruins of Venice, observing the sun and its light dancing on the surface of the water. It is, so far, one of your favorite memories.
Everything since then has been… clouded in confusion.
When you first saw Suzu, you stared at her, and wondered how a machine could speak so eloquently. Then you stared at your gloved hands and wondered why they felt so much like a part of you. It took some time to understand what an ‘Exo’ was, just a brief explanation to understand Suzu wasn’t one, and a whole lot longer to accept the difference between the likes of you, the Ghosts, and the humans that haven’t traded they flesh and bones for a prison of steel, synthetic skin, and sensors: so many sensors, and you’re able to feel one of them at a time if you focus hard enough.
“I’m a robot.” You stated, blankly, once the Ghost finished explaining.
“You’re an Exo. By all means, Exo are a race in itself. You’re as alive and sentient and, to an extent, as human as can be, your body aside.”
“But I’m a program.”
“What? Oh goodness , no no no-”
It took some time - the Ghost answered and you asked questions, the next one more complex than the last, for hours. Why did you choose this body? You don't know? Why? Why did you forget? What brought you back in the first place? Why ?
“You may be a Ghost but… what do I call you? Do you all share a name?”
“A lot of us simply go by ‘Ghost’ but you could name me, if you’d like. It could be fun!”
“Ah…” You stared at her. “... Can I call you Suzu?”
“Ooh, sounds cute! I’m into it.”
“... I got to say, I expected you to get tired of all my questions.”
“That would be kinda rude, what with you only being up for like an hour. Ghosts don’t get tired, anyway. But, to answer more closely, I am here to help you. Not to get tired of you.”
“... I do feel…” You vaguely motioned with your hand.
“A connection? That’s the Light you feel between us.”
“The… Light?”
“Oh… uhm… oh Traveler help us, I have so much to explain-
“Traveler?”
… It feels familiar, the great big ball in the sky. It has apparently been here a while, you learn. Perhaps you had gazed upon it before, a lifetime ago.
The topic of Light opens a whole new can of worms, and just about every other thing after it does. The Tower you were supposed to go to. This ‘Vanguard’. The Guardians and their own Light, capable of different and unique things. The technology. By god - so much technology. You can’t tell when it was that you died but you wonder if the world you left was half as advanced as the one you woke up into.
Almost a week had passed before the Ghost managed to talk you into visiting the Tower - the last bastion of humanity. Partly because you kind of didn’t want to go, partly because you first wanted to know exactly what you have been reborn into, and partly because you wanted to understand yourself before everything, your body and your ‘might’, as Suzu had called it. You first tested your supposed power with a healthy dose of skepticism as you tried to lift an old car frame - and accidentally flung it across the derelict highway.
Nothing impresses you as much however, as the latent power of the Light.
“So the Traveler created an army?” You ask as you play with Arc sparks between your fingers.
“I suppose you could think about it that way.”
“But why?”
“To protect humanity.
“From what?”
As she explained it, you got the horrifying gist of it: you were brought back to kill.
It didn’t sit well with you.
And as if all that wasn’t enough, when you finally came to the Tower-
“Oh god. Is the sky fake, too?”
“Ah, well, no. I brought you back at an interesting time, to say the least. You see, the Vex are responsible for that - they-”
“What is ‘ the Vex’?”
Suzu never gets tired even for a second - if anything, she gets upset with not explaining properly or quickly enough but you get the idea pretty quick - the Vex are the kind of entity that leaves no room for discussion on whether it will kill you or not.
“Anyway, now that you’ve learned all that,” the Ghost continues, “let me explain what is going on.”
And then you learn about so many alien cultures and your head aches, even though by all means, there is nothing inside of your frame that should ache.
First things first, your Ghosts states, you need to save the world; for you have been reborn into an Endless Night.
… It is not what one would expect to do after coming back from the dead but you do it anyway, with the help of many other Guardians. The Endless Night ends after all, and reveals a sky that feels familiar, as if seeing it again after a long time of being asleep. You may not remember who you are but you know for certain: you once belonged here. And once the sky appears, everything is a little bit less foreign.
The aliens, however, take some getting used to. Your own body, other Exos, the Awoken, the Cabal, and perhaps most of all the Eliksni - it all takes some getting used to. You walk the torn down district where they squat, strange and foreign and so immensely different from humans yet in the very same troubles as everybody else. It is this line of thought that makes you realize there is no reason to feel threatened, and before long, your empathy extends to them as easily as it does to the rest of the inhabitants of the Last City.
Which turns out to be a good thing, because you don’t quite find yourself belonging anywhere else but the Botza District, strangely enough. Everybody keeps calling you a Guardian but you can’t help wondering if you’re just one of the people who happened to have woken up by a lucky chance, because you spend little time the way other Guardians do, and prefer delivering supplies around the city, help the Eliksni rebuild, or assist other in training exercises.
Anything so you don’t have to kill. Seems like it’s all Guardians do these days, and you’re pretty vocal about your reluctance to do so. Somehow, it surprises people. They keep saying it's odd… ‘especially for a Titan.’
‘Especially for an Exo.’
What kind of reputation those have, you know only vaguely from what humanity remembered, and you’re not sure if you ever want to find out. But you can’t deny you have many, many questions about the nature of your existence.
Once again snapped out of your musing by the Eliksni children, you playfully shoo them away from the heavy cargo that needs putting away and get to work, unloading the crates from your jumpship and stacking them into a nearby improvised storage room that might have once been someone’s garage. You carefully sort out the ether canisters, the clean water and the purifiers, and watch out not to get clothing mixed up with anything that might cause a flame - it’s not hard work, lifting a few tons aside but you take a certain sort of joy in doing it just right.
As you’re putting the crates away into the designated storage space, you realize you’ve seen a familiar face. The one they call Misraaks - or Mithrax, depending on whom you ask - sits nearby, surrounded by a variety of shanks. De facto leader of the House of Light sits there and fixes them with a bunch of other of his men - like equals . You catch a few words, him patiently explaining to the youngest of them how to calibrate a shank to perfection.
You’ve hardly exchanged more than a handful sentences in the brief time you’ve known him, but you respect him more than anyone you’ve even closely met so far for reasons you don’t really talk about.
You end up paying dearly for being so distracted by just about everything, whether it’s your past, your body, the Eliksni, or the nature of being a Guardian. Though you’re strong enough to lift the massive crate up onto another one, you’re not quick enough to catch it when it slips from your grasp. The crate hits your shoulder with an impact you didn’t expect and though you don’t find it hard to remain firm on your feet, the fact you did so directs all of the force of it into your shoulder… and something in it echoes with an ominous click that sounds like it would be much more painful if you were flesh and blood. Instead though, you feel a massive sense of discomfort that really makes it hard to hold the damn crate up with one of your arms effectively crippled-
“Let me help, Titan-born!”
Quicker than you could have noticed him, and without waiting for an answer, Mithrax reaches for the crate, pushes it up to its designated spot.
“Thanks.” You say as you idly try to force your shoulder back into its usual state. Unfortunately, you know little of how to treat a human body and even less on how to fix the intricate machinations of an Exo one.
“Are you hurt?” You hear him ask. For a moment, you’re silent.
“Something is off… inside.”
The discomfort turns into what your body interprets as ache, and suddenly becomes pain - or perhaps, in Exo terms, it becomes a sense of urgency which you refer to as ‘pain’ because it feels just as terrible: it catches you unprepared, and you wince.
“Your Ghost?” Mithrax urges.
You shake your head. He is only momentarily confused at it.
“... Allow me to help, then.”
It's a half question, and you nod automatically. You feel his hands on your shoulder, and the pain pauses for a second… then comes back in full force.
“... Come.”
You follow him, as your body silently screams at you, into the workshop.
“I do not mean to be impolite…” Mithrax trails off but you nod again.
“I don’t mind.” You manage, voice strained as you try to unfasten your chest plate. “Just fix it if you can.”
He takes off the shoulder guard and helps you slip your arm out of the sleeve. He stands behind you and you catch a glance of him reaching for a tool but you don’t watch - you don’t want to know.
The pain doesn’t cease but neither does it flare up as you feel the metal start prodding at some crevice of your shoulder you couldn’t name if your life depended on it. The sensors of your body pick up enough that you can feel the metallic end of a tool trying to level a part of you into position. Another tool, at the same time, loosens a different part. You try to think of a topic so as to distract yourself from imagining your own arm falling off.
“I thought only Ghosts knew how to fix these things.”
“... You mean the Exo, yes?”
Oops.
“Yeah.
“Hm. From my knowledge, Ghosts are the only ones who can comprehend the finer mechanizations of your bodies. Humans understand it little… and the Eliksni have only just begun to. The technology of it is astoundingly complex… yet just as intriguing.”
“Does that mean I lose an arm?”
“Not today, Titan-born.”
You smile at his confidence.
A moment passes before he adds: “It is a shame. We could do so much if we could understand it a better; sometimes it feels like there is unlimited potential in the body of an Exo.”
You have to bite your tongue.
“Alas, it is complex beyond what we can understand at the moment.”
“I don’t know much about it but isn’t Europa choke full of old Exo bodies?”
“Not all find the idea of working with the dead… acceptable.”
You never even thought about them as ‘dead’ as much as ‘broken down.”
“Besides, to have access to technology scarcely means we can understand the makings of it it as easily. Much like we bathe in the Light every day, yet hold few true understandings of it.”
It almost feels personal when he says it but you know better. Still, you can’t resist but to reply:
“And yet here we are, betting everything on it.”
Mithrax doesn’t miss the bitterness in your voice.
“You… don’t have faith in the Great Machine, Guardian?”
“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to.” You repeat. “I’ve been told we’ve been brought back for a good purpose but everything is… everything is in such a state of...” You trail off. You hear Mithrax hum in consideration to your troubles.
“Indeed, you have been brought back at a… tumultuous time.”
Instead of a reply, you wince again.
“My apologies!”
“It's alright!” You take a breath. “Just surprised me.”
It surprised you with how painful it was alright but he doesn’t need to know that. For a moment you’re tense, expecting the discomfort to return but Mithrax seems to have figured out a better way to treat your shoulder, for none of it comes.
What you can only describe as a spark, however, flies out of you.
“A good sign!” He says. “Everything is working as it should.”
He sounds so pleased, so happy with himself and though you know it shouldn’t, something about it rubs you the wrong way, and though you try to control yourself, in the moment’s frustration you lose it and-
“ I hate this body .”
His hands grow very still for a moment. The silence is awkward as he keeps working on you, and you regret how carelessly you let those words come out.
After a while, something clicks, a sharp pain stabs through your shoulder… and then shifts over into the usual, painless comfort of existing. You try moving your arm back and forth and feel nothing amiss with it. You exhale a shaky ‘thank you’.
“It was an honour to be able to help you back somehow.”
“‘Help me back?’ What do you mean?”
“You’ve been here every day, Titan-born. Your presence and aid have not gone unnoticed. In addition to that,” you can hear a smile in his voice, “our youngest hatchlings always get excited about your arrival.”
For the first time, you actually smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve… grown fond of them, too.” You slip the jacket back on. “Again, thank you for this.”
“Anytime you need assistance...” Mithrax pointedly pauses before he adds: “Ghost, or no Ghost.”
You wish to explain but honestly don’t want to bother him with petty nonsense.
“Thank you.” You repeat for the third time. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
˜*˜*˜*˜*˜
You’re handing in a report. The Awoken Titan does not look at you, and he just as rarely speaks, instead focused on the pad in his hand. If your body permitted it, you’d probably be sweating.
On an occasion where your eyes meet, Zavala regularly regards you with a stare that doesn’t feel cold because of the colour of his eyes but because of the way he does it. You’re not sure about the reason for it but you’re certain about one thing: he doesn’t like you. You’re not sure why, though you have your guesses: much like everyone else who knows you, he’s aware of how little effort you make as a Guardian in any typical manner - frankly, you prefer to do something that doesn’t require you to kill anyone. Perhaps he just doesn’t like the way you look or talk. It could be virtually anything but you know for a fact that the coldness he emanates with is real.
… Or maybe he’s just busy, you always decide to make yourself feel better: Guardians are many in number, and he has no time for every one of you. So he simply pushes the pad back onto your hands, nods, and moves on, required elsewhere.
Your job is done, and you eagerly mount your Sparrow on the outskirts of the Last City.
Though provided as a tool of transportation, your Sparrow is the only true form of fun you found so far. The Ghost had helpfully provided you with locations where Guardians go to race each other whenever the Vanguard so much as turns their head, and you usually jump at the opportunity to test your skills. You still remember when you first raced against a bunch of Hunters, and came out of it feeling more alive than you ever did since you rose up from the bottom of Venice a month ago.
Today, however, you will visit no race track. Instead, you ride out until you simply find a good spot to sit down. Alone.
… You’re questioning everything, and that includes the Ghosts. Suzu didn’t take it kindly when you told her she was nothing but a scrap of metal with a code slapped into her - and that’s putting it nicely.
It was days ago. You’ve been alone since.
“... I’m sorry.”
Much to your relief, Suzu instantly appears, staring as silently and quizzically as always.
“I fucked up. I have… no excuse other than… well.” You look around. “... All of this got to me in ways I couldn't predict.”
“...”
“I didn’t mean what I had said. Truth to be told, you seem like the only person who can put up with me on this god-forsaken world. The only one who can…” You trail off. Suzu lets out a soft, bell-like series of electronic noises.
“It doesn’t have to be so.” She finally says.
“I don’t want to kill, Suzu.”
“And you will never be forced to. But there are some things you need to accept.” She pauses. “... Me being one of them. I am as alive as you are.”
“I’m sorry.” You repeat, and feel the tiny entity fly closer, nudging against your cheek as if to say, ‘it’s alright.’
“I did some thinking. I might’ve been… overly eager, in an attempt to make a ‘proper’ Guardian out of you. What you said was hurtful but you were stressed, and I failed to notice that. I’m sorry.”
“... Don’t steal my thunder.”
“Huh?”
“Your apology is way better, and you don’t even have to apologize.”
A bell-like laughter echoes from her.
“Friends?” You ask.
“Never stopped with that, did we?”
“Thank you.”
You mount your sparrow again. She floats about, clearly trying to broach a topic.
“What is it?”
“Well, uh, like I had said, I don’t have to be your only friend.”
“Tell me about one other person whose idea of a job or hobby isn’t killing each other over and over again.”
“To my knowledge, you talked to one today.”
It takes you a few seconds.
“But… I’m not like them.”
Suzu peeps. “What? Why does that matter?”
“I’m… I don’t know. It just felt sort of…” You pause. “ Like I’m rubbing it into their face.”
“I understand. A word of advice, if I may - turn that into ‘sharing your blessings with them’.”
“Seems easy when you put it that way.”
“It is worth a try.”
That much, you can do.
˜*˜*˜*˜*˜
You can’t say much has changed save for your slightly more positive attitude, and the fact Suzu now joins you wherever she goes; in doing so, she shows you the many perks of having a faithful friend. Though your relationship began shakily, you’re determined to make the best out of it: which can prove to be challenging because Suzu is a sweetheart, and you… well, you feel like an asshole, most of the time.
Still, you’re trying, at least… and recently, you’ve gotten the idea to try something else, should you rid yourself of this strange discomfort with being a ‘non-organic lifeform’, as Suzu puts it.
Another day in the Botza District provides you with the necessary opportunity to see Mithrax, which is when you decide to lay out your proposition and you instantly regret that you simply didn’t send a message because looking back, it seems like an easier thing to do than to suggest it to his face.
“Titan-born!” He greets and bows, which always makes you feel weird. “It is a pleasure to see you. I trust all is in order, yes?”
You realize he’s not just asking about your arm when his eyes glance at Suzu.
“Everything is.” You nod. “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about something, if you got the time.”
“Certainly! Give me only a minute, if you can wait.”
The minute he needs to wrap up his work is not enough for you to get any braver about this.
“How may I assist, Titan-born?” Mithrax asks as he steps out.
“So uh, I was wondering if maybe we can help each other out. You said you wanted to learn more about the Exo, right? In a way, it makes the two of us.” You pause. “I can’t say I’m… happy to have woken up as one. Not with so much of me being an enigma. I figured I’ll come a step closer to accepting myself if I learn more about it.”
“That is... an interesting theory; I'm saddened to say I do not think my men nor I have any more information than the Vanguard scientists do.” Mithrax begins, clearly disappointed by the fact he can’t help you - but then you interrupt him.
“That is not what I’m here for.” You pause again. “I was going to - and I’m sorry if this comes out as odd-”
“Please, speak freely.”
“If you’d find it easier, maybe I could… help out as a- uhm. Well. A test subject.”
It takes him a few moments to realize what you’re proposing.
“... You’d submit your body to our research, Titan-born?”
God, that made it sound even more insane than you anticipated. But Mithrax remains curious about your proposition, so you do too.
“The scientists on the Tower seem to hold very little understanding or tools to help them find out more about the Exo.” You shrug. “I just figured- it might be different if a Splicer tried a different method. I've heard nothing but praise about how well versed the Eliksni are in terms of machines." You look at him pointedly. "Especially the Splicers. Especially the ones with your title."
A long pause hangs between the two of you, during which Mithrax grunts and sinks into thought and as he does, it becomes clear to you how many problems this might cause. You know nothing about these things - who's to say he is either willing or capable or has time to do this? Not to mention the bigger picture: though House of Light and the Vanguard became allies, there were probably still secrets the two might not have shared - at least not yet - between themselves, guarding their technology lest it fell into wrong hands. Or guarding simply because of the rampant distrust that was still strewn about between the two people. As seconds pass, you realize how selfish your proposition was.
“Look, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking broadly enough.” You can’t help saying. “There are a million and one reasons why we’d be frowned upon for doing something like it in the first place. Just, forget I even suggested it.”
“Ah, please, hold on, Titan-born.” Mithrax says as you turn to leave. “There are indeed, many reasons… but all of them are of concern only if this arrangement were to be public.”
You give him a level look. “Is such a thing even doable in secret?”
“Hmm... I know I could try speaking to Ikorakel about this - she is sure to understand, and not to speak of it idly. I know she will give it a serious consideration. I know there is merit in research such as this… but I also know few people would be allowed to hear about it. One wrong person would be enough to steal the potential secrets we might find, and hand them over to the worst of our enemies.” He clicks his mandibles in anger. “One wrong person would be enough to reignite the hatred and fear we fought against.”
You shiver at the implication. The horrors that took place between the human and the Eliksni are… you prefer not to think of them.
“Titan-born.” Mithrax says, fire in his voice. “This is a great responsibility.” He pauses. “More than for secrecy, I am concerned for your well being.”
“You don’t have to be.” You try to assure him but he does not seem to take any of this lightly.
“I cannot guarantee your safety. This is an uncharted territory as far as understanding an Exo body and mind goes.” He pauses. “As far as a Splicer’s understanding of it goes.”
“I trust I’d be in safe hands.”
“It honours me that you do. Still, you need to be aware: we might come up with none of the results you are hoping for.”
“At least we’ll try.”
“Even at the expense of your sanity , Titan-born?” Mithrax sounds desperate and you know this whole venture both frightens and excites him about as much as it does you. The results of this might be invaluable for you all, or might nit change a thing… but the unknown of it makes it more dangerous than anything.
You, however, don’t feel like you have a choice, because-
“If I can’t make peace with my body, I- I’m going to go insane. From what I’ve heard, there is no coming back from that, for an Exo.”
"But, for a Guardian...?"
"I've been told the Rejection has been long eliminated but... but I don't know why I feel this way, then. Whatever the case might be," you steel your gaze, "I need to do something."
Is he weirded out? Scared? Intrigued? Impossible to say but the way his gaze lingers on you is becoming unbearable. You feel the need to get lost before he has a chance to tell you to.
But no such words come, and Mithrax instead simply nods.
“I will speak to Ikorakel as soon as I am able.”
In front of your eyes flashes an image: the sea above Venice, observed from below the surface. You realize this is the first good news you’ve heard. You realize you’re…
“Thank you.” You don't remember if you had ever done it, nor when exactly did you learn it but you spread your arms and bow your head respectfully, and Mithrax bows his in turn. You didn’t know that you could feel so many things that are beyond the metal body you inhabit. You didn’t know you could feel your mouth stretch into a wide smile; you know it isn’t as visible but what matters is… you can feel it.
You wouldn’t realize until much later that that very feeling is exactly what you would be chasing for a long time.