The warlock walked into the Vanguard hall, not missing the glares on the way in. “You wanted to see me, Vanguard?” she said as she approached Ikora.
Ikora turned to her. Her expression was perfectly schooled; only a slight narrowing of her eyes betrayed her frustration. “Something has to change, guardian,” she said.
The warlock tensed while her ghost fidgeted nervously at her side. “You know I’m one of the hardest working guardians out there,” she said.
“And that is commendable. But every guardian must contend with the fact that the Light works in different ways for different guardians.” Ikora held up the data pad she was holding. “This is the fifth strike fireteam that has reported your inability to properly utilize your Light.”
“If this is about Fireborn—“
“Of course it’s about Fireborn, guardian!”
Ikora closed her eyes and took a breath. The warlock did her best to stand there even though she could practically feel every person in the room pointedly not staring at her.
“The Fireborn technique requires a particular state of mind, guardian,” Ikora continued, her voice back to its even tone. “In order to remake oneself without a Ghost channeling Light, one must be immersed in the Light and have a full and honest picture of themselves. You are a hard working and studious guardian, yes...” Ikora sighed. “But you lack the mental clarity to honestly know yourself.”
The warlock narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think I can do it.”
Ikora matched her stare. “Guardian, in order to remake yourself, you have to know what you’re making. You have to know who you are and be at peace with it. This is not something that can be taught; it is not something that can be gleaned from a text.” She put the data pad down. “No, guardian; I don’t think you can do it.”
She held up a hand. “But, a scholar must always be willing to be proven wrong. You have one week to show progress. You have one month to show you can reliably perform the technique. And if either of us feel that your talents are best redirected elsewhere, then we will redirect your talents.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “Have I made myself clear, guardian?”
The warlock stormed over to the vaults and started flicking through the screens.
Her ghost twitched nervously next to her. “Please tell me we aren’t about to do something monumentally stupid,” it said in it’s near-monotone.
“What gives you that impression, Ghost?” she muttered. She clicked through to the last screen and swore. “Son of a Dreg.”
“No heavy ammo synths?”
“Nope.” She shut down the terminal and started marching toward the hanger.
“Okay,” her ghost continued, “I stand corrected. We’re only doing something mildly stupid.”
“You heard Ikora.”
“And I don’t think this is what she had in mind when she spoke to you!”
“Well it’s what she’s getting,” the warlock snarled as they walked up to the mechanic station.
Amanda Holliday was chatting amicably with a blonde female titan in orange armor. “Ain’t nothing like a warm pecan pie. Throw a few chocolate chips in it?”
The titan laughed. “Y’all know I’d never turn that down,” she answered, matching Amanda accent-for-accent, “But my heart belongs to an apple pie. It’s in my blood.”
Amanda nodded. “Fair enough. Y’all should come by sometime. If you’ve got the recipe, that is.”
The warlock cleared her throat.
Amanda made no outward sign of annoyance, but everyone present felt it anyway. “What’s up, Guardian?”
The warlock clamped down on her emotions. “I need my ship,” she said as evenly as she could.
Amanda stared back.
“Please,” the warlock ground out.
Amanda turned and started messing with her console. “Ship nu—“
“WH543. Sometime today would be nice.”
Amanda’s stare turned into a glare. With slow, obvious movements, she folded her arms. “Can’t summon a ship without a flight plan.”
The titan shuffled awkwardly. “Aman—“
“I’m going to the Iron Temple.”
“What for.”
“Reasons.”
“Reasons like?”
“Reasons I don’t feel like getting into with you,” the warlock snapped. “Now are you going to do your job or not?”
“Hey now!” the titan yelled, holding her not-insubstantial arms at each of them. “Amanda, you ain’t a jerk, so don’t act like it.” She turned her full attention to the warlock. “Now, is there something specific eating you, or are you just normally more ornery than a cow with a thistle lodged up her tail?”
The warlock seethed. “I’m fine.”
“Horseapples,” the titan spat. “You don’t want to talk about it, say so.”
The warlock held the stare for a moment before sighing and hanging her head. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “You too, Amanda. Not you guys’ fault I’m a failure of a guardian.”
Amanda rolled her eyes and tapped her console. “Ship’s coming up.”
The titan softened her glare. “Now, I seriously doubt you’re as much a failure as you think.”
The warlock snorted. “Tell that to Ikora.”
The titan winced. “She give you a dressing down?”
The warlock nodded and sighed. “So now I’m going to head out to the Iron Temple, buy some heavy ammo from Shiro, find a nice, secluded spot in the Cosmodrome, and spend the afternoon blowing myself up and seeing if I can pull myself together. Literally.”
“Sounds like a fun time,” Amanda quipped with a smile. “Beats jumping off the tower, right?”
The warlock laughed in spite of herself. The titan clapped her on the shoulder—gently, but not gently enough.
“Whatever you got going on, I know it’ll work out,” she said gently.
The warlock frowned. “How can you possibly know?”
The titan stepped back and appraised her. “Because I’ve heard of you. Hardest working warlock out there, on the team that took out Omnigul?” She nodded. “You’ll get it. Call it a hunch if you have to.”
The warlock nodded and walked toward her ship. She paused next to Amanda. “Anything you need from the Cosmodrome?” she said with a weak smile. “Might as well make myself useful while I’m there.”
Amanda thought for a second before pulling a data chip off of a nearby shelf. “I was going to take this to Zavala to add to the beacons, but if you’re headed down there anyway...”
The warlock’s ghost scanned the chip. “Got it,” he said. “We’ll get what you need.”
"It was just down there that I found you," the ghost said. "We ghosts... we don't know what our guardians are going to look like. Not on the outside, at least."
The ghost and its guardian looked out over Old Russia, the fresh snow covering the rusted cars and falling gently down the towering walls of the Cosmodrome.
"Getting sentimental, ghost?" the guardian said, an audible smirk to her voice.
The ghost twitched itself. "I'm allowed," it said petulantly. It turned back to the deck of the Fallen ketch. "Do you think we should clear out the other decks?"
The guardian shrugged. "Does anything show up on the scanner?"
"Nope."
The guardian took off her helmet and shook her red-and-blonde-streaked hair out. "Then let's get some fresh air," she said, taking a long whiff of the winter breeze.
The ghost sighed audibly. "If I had lungs... No, I still wouldn't. I don't understand your obsession with 'fresh air.' Helmets exist for a reason."
The guardian sat down at the edge of the skiff and let her legs dangle over the side. "Ah, call it a remnant," she said with a dismissive wave.
The ghost hovered closer to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry I can't find more, guardian."
The guardian shook her head and tried to wave it off. "It's okay," she said, "I know Golden Age records are spotty at best." She closed her eyes and rested her head against the railing. "I just thought that there was something..."
The ghost bumped her in the shoulder. "You know you liked the outdoors," it said. "I know of plenty of guardians that don't even know that about their past lives."
The guardian tried to smile. "Thanks, ghost," she said. "I just feel like if I could find one thing: a name, a place... Something real to tie me back to..."
She glanced at the ghost and sighed. "Lucky you," she said sardonically. "You got the defective guardian that keeps obsessing over her past instead of fighting for the future."
This time the ghost bumped her head. "Stop it, guardian," it said. "Everyone's allowed their hobbies. No one's going to fault a guardian for digging into the past, especially if that guardian's a warlock."
It flew around to stare her directly in the face. "And no matter what, you're still my guardian. We're together until the end."
The guardian smiled more broadly. "Thanks," she said.
In the distance, a jumpship shot through the upper atmosphere. The ghost turned toward the sound. "I think we've got incoming..."
Another guardian–a hunter–materialized onto the deck of the ketch, her ghost appearing a second later. She took a look at the warlock and pulled her own helmet off, revealing a rainbow-hued head of hair pulled back into a bun. "Warlock," she said in a scratchy voice.
"Hunter," the first guardian answered, standing up. "What brings you over here?"
The hunter walked over to a computer console near the cabin. "Been scouring Fallen ships for Splicer intel. Zavala wants to hit them pretty hard now that the SIVA vault and Aksis have been taken care of."
The warlock peered over her shoulder as she and her ghost browsed through the system. The hunter glanced back at her, and for a split second the warlock saw something in between joy and frustration before the hunter turned back to the computer.
"What're you doing tonight?" the hunter said after a moment.
The warlock blinked in surprise. "Nothing I can think of, why?"
The hunter shrugged. "There's a neat little ramen shop in the city. Cayde swears by it. If you want to check it out we can..."
The warlock was slightly taken aback. While a social request wasn’t that unheard of, it wasn’t exactly common either. Her gut instinct was to turn the hunter down. And yet–
friend
"Wait, go back!" the warlock said, running up next to the hunter and pointing at the screen.
The hunter glanced–glared?–at the warlock and started scrolling backwards. "See something you like?" she said evenly.
The warlock stared intently at the screen as the images flickered past–
home
She shoved the hunter's hands away. "This," she said, pointing at a six-point star on the screen. "This means something."
"Everything means something," the hunter said.
“Yeah, but this means something important...” The warlock rounded on her. "You know what it means, don't you?"
The hunter didn't move. "Why would you think that?" she said, her voice still unnaturally even.
The warlock narrowed her eyes. "I'm not in the mood for riddles, hunter. What do you know?"
The hunter narrowed her eyes back. "It's not that simple, Sunset."
i'm so sorry
fit of jealous rage
you're always welcome here
The warlock shook the images away. The hunter's eyes widened. "Oh, ponyfeathers," she muttered.
"Who's Sunset?"
The hunter facepalmed. "It's not that simple," she ground out. The warlock was pretty sure she saw a tear in the corner of her eye.
The warlock turned back to the console. The star–
mark
–meant something in her past, she was sure of it. If she could just remember–
don't forget me
–what it was in her past–
not today
–that was being triggered by the mark–
friendship royalty danger safety
–then maybe she could–
But you cannot wield it
"Sunset!"
Even with all that magic and power
–finally figure out–
"Sunset!"
you'll still be alone
"Guardian!" her ghost yelled.
The warlock snapped back to reality in time to see a shock grenade embed itself into the screen. She instinctively jumped back and pulled out her hand cannon. When the grenade exploded, she dove to the side into the smoke and started picking off the group of dregs that were coming out of the cabin.
"Helmet incoming!" her ghost said above her, materializing her helmet around her head. The warlock checked her heads up display: several dregs, two vandals, and a Fallen captain. With a Scorch Cannon.
"Still here, hunter?" she said into her radio.
"What, thought I'd sit out a fight, warlock?" the hunter answered with an audible grin. "I've got an Arc Blade charged; can you distract the big guy while I take care of the mooks?"
"On it," the warlock said, breaking cover just enough to draw a bead on the captain's head. To her left, she heard the sizzle of the hunter's Arc Blade activating, and as much as she wanted to watch the swirling vortex of electricity and death, she had a job to do. She took two shots at the captain.
The captain flinched, shook its head, then looked straight at her.
"Well, you got it's attention," her ghost said.
"How's my Radiance?" she answered, taking another shot. The captain just took the hit and aimed its cannon at her.
"You're super charged."
"Good, because–"
The cannon blanketed the the five feet around the warlock in fire and blasted her away.
"Of course," her ghost muttered, working to gather enough light to revive her. It looked over toward the hunter just in time to see her take a shot from a vandal's wire rifle right in the head.
"And we might be here for a little while," it muttered as the hunter's ghost hovered over her body.
You are strong and talented, but you lack humility.
A beautiful castle on the side of a mountain.
An ornate mirror that was more than it seemed.
A tall brick school.
Destroy the portal; you are not getting this crown.
The face of the building in ruins. A deep crater.
The magic of friendship doesn't just exist in Equestria.
The climb out of the hole. Rebuilding the building.
Rebuilding.
I've missed you,
Returning.
I've missed you, Sunset Shimmer.
Remembering.
Sunset Shimmer, we need you!
The warlock's ghost felt the Light around it shift. "Is this?"
An affirmative glow from the warlock's soul.
"All right, then!" The ghost worked to gather the ambient Light together as the warlock's soul flared bright, and in a flash of fiery Light, the warlock reformed herself. Light coalesced into matter which bonded together into bone and muscle. The ghost worked in tandem, binding together carbon fiber nanoweave and titanium alloy plates to build her armor and weapons around her. The ghost found things a little odd this time around, but there was no time to question it, only time to act.
The two remaining dregs got fusion grenades. The captain appeared to be puzzled, but the warlock didn’t stop to consider that. Acting on instinct, she planted her forehooves, turned away from the captain, and delivered a solar-infused buck straight into his midsection. And when that didn’t finish him off, another solar-infused punch and fusion grenade did.
As her radiance ended, she turned and spotted the remaining vandal. With a snarl, she drew her sniper rifle and—
She looked down. At her hooves. That wouldn’t fit though the trigger guard.
“Oh,” she said.
“Let’s get the hunter!” her ghost yelled. “Worry about this later!”
A shot from the vandal that nearly singed her flank startled her into action. She dove over to where the hunter’s ghost hovered, put one hoof on her ghost, and the other on the hunter’s.
The hunter’s ghost began spinning. “Revive in 3,” it said with a deep voice.
The hunter reappeared, and in one fluid motion drew an auto rifle, aimed, and took out the last vandal.
Both guardians—and their ghosts—let out audible sighs of relief.
“You win, Ghost,” the warlock said, sitting down. “Next time we sweep the decks.”
The hunter collapsed, then turned to look at the warlock who was missing her armor save for her robes and bond. And was suspiciously pony-shaped, complete with her yin-yang sun mark on her flank. “Seriously?” she said.
Sunset just raised an eyebrow. “That hair come naturally, or did you have to dye it?” She smirked. “Rainbow Dash.”
Rainbow just stared for a moment. “I’m going to hug you,” she said finally.
“Wait, wh—“
Rainbow dove, grabbed the pony by the neck, and pulled her in. “Sweet Celestia, I thought you’d never wake up, Sunset!” she said, somewhere between a yell and a sob.
Sunset shifted around until she could wriggle her foreleg free, which she instantly wrapped around Rainbow’s neck. “How long have you known?”
“Too long. But I couldn’t just tell you.”
Sunset groaned. “Memory block with an unknown trigger?”
“Something like that. I recognized Fluttershy right off but every time I tried to get her to remember she just got angrier.”
“Wait, Fluttershy got angry?”
“Yeah,” Rainbow said with an awkward laugh. “So you can see why I wasn’t too keen on trying to force you to wake up.”
Sunset pulled herself away. “Next question,” she said, looking herself over before turning back to Rainbow. “Why the hell am I a pony?”
“You pulled yourself together,” her ghost said. “This is what your soul looks like.” It hovered closer. “I... I should update my subroutines.”
“No!” Sunset said, a little too quickly. “You’ve still got the old revive subroutine?”
”Yes...”
“Good.” She hoofed up her rocket launcher and trotted a few feet away. “Rainbow, can I get a rez?” Sunset’s horn glowed slightly as the rocket launcher turned in mid-air and pointed at her.
“Wait wh—“
There was a pony-shattering kaboom.
“Guardian down,” Rainbow’s ghost supplied.
Sunset reappeared, human-shaped and with all her armor in place. “Thanks,” she said.
“A little warning next time?” Rainbow glowered.
“I can’t exactly go back to the tower like that,” Sunset said. “Ikora hates me enough as it is.” She rolled her eyes. “Figures; I finally learn Fireborn, and I can’t demonstrate it.”
“It might not be that bad?” Rainbow said with more than a bit of uncertainty.
Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Ikora already thinks I’m wasting my Light. If we add in the fact that I’ve been investigating my past, much less discovered it...”
Rainbow nodded. “Okay, so we plan.”
“Since when do you plan?”
“Since a lack of planning gets guardians killed.” She ran her hand through her hair. “No, it hasn’t actually happened to anyone on my teams,” she corrected, “but there’ve been way too many close calls.”
She shook her head. “Anyway, you never gave me an answer on that ramen shop.”
Sunset hesitated.
“Fair warning,” Rainbow added, “Pinkie’s going to throw you a party. And if it’s not now, it’ll be a surprise party.”
“Ramen sounds great!” Sunset said quickly.
Rainbow grinned. “Awesome.” She turned to her ghost. “Tank, send the coordinates over to...” She turned to Sunset’s ghost.
“Oh,” it said, shifting awkwardly. “I’m just—“
“Ray.” Sunset said. She glanced at her ghost.
It looked at her. “Ray,” it said, sounding it out. “My name’s Ray.”
Rainbow nodded. “Cool. See you there!” she said as she and tank transmatted out.
Sunset and Ray stood in silence for a moment.
“So...” Ray said. “Sunset, is it?”
“Sunset Shimmer.”
“And you’re a pony?”
Sunset smiled. “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”