//------------------------------//
// FizzBuzz 
// Story: Friendship is Paracausal 
// by Cinder Script 
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In hindsight, I probably shouldn't be surprised things had turned out like this. Yeah, jumping into the dark bottomless pit had been a laugh. I could hear Daredevil complaining all the way down, and... Yup, still smashing things. She's fine. Songbird's gone quiet, probably dead again. With her luck, she's probably at the bottom of that cave in I caused earlier, I'll dig her out later. First thing...

"What are you waiting for? An invitation?" A bang, a scream, and that lovely popping sound I've come to love. "There! Now start actually TRYING to kill me!"

"FizzBuzz, do you have to antagonize the Fallen?" And Pip's annoyed. Lovely, I was wondering when he'd wake up.

"Did you get the picture? Bubble-8 will love it." I can feel his exasperation in the sigh. Odd, I didn't know he breathed. 

"Yes. I also picked up reports of an Archon Priest in the area. It looks like we crashed his birthday party." 

Well that was news. Fallen celebrate birthdays? With the way they keep throwing themselves at us, you'd think they- oh, good place for a tripmine- wouldn't have enough self preservation to care about surviving another year. Or was it- Okay, be careful of shockwaves while down here- just the higher ups?

"You know I can see into your helmet, right? I know that grin, that's your narrating face. What are you planning?" 

"The surrender of every Fallen in this cave. Failing that, party." 

"You'll be doing it alone. I haven't gotten the chance to fix your armor's radio, we can only receive until you clear out the Fallen chasing you." 

"They're still back there? Tenacious spiders. Give me a second." I glanced back, finding far more than I thought. What's left in the hand cannon after the scuffle upstairs would be enough for some of them, and I could clean up enough of the rest with Double Tap's ammo generator. The ones on the ceiling will be the biggest problem, they've got good sightlines over the tunnel and enough guns to make dodging difficult. Good. I've been wanting to try this out for a while. "Hold on Pip." 

I couldn't hear his response, whatever it was. I threw myself forward, grunting as my side hit the ground, sliding backwards. The trigger bit still tasted like Hive blood after the Headbutt incident, but it still worked. My foreleg rose, leveling the hand cannon harnessed to it at the closest Dreg's head. His look of surprise vanished in a spray of blood and ether, my aim already moving before his scream ended. Two more kicks, two bodies falling from the ceiling, and the massive revolver clicked empty. I really need an autoloader. What I didn't need anymore was a gun.

I've been trying to explain this since I woke up that first time. I even wrote a suitably dramatic song, but operatic musical numbers aren't the best medium for explaining how the Light feels to wield. If you're a Guardian, you'll understand. It starts as a spark, but that's misleading. It doesn't start, it started before I woke up, and Pip is tight lipped about the details of resurrecting a pile of bones. Let's call it an ember, a little sparking warmth all over. It grows every second, every heartbeat, until I can almost taste it. I described it to Pip once, and that's how he came up with my name: Like soda fizz and static and nothing at all. 

Even when its growing I can use it, making my body bend easier or move faster, poured into what's left of my horn to charge a grenade or ignite a knife. I can feel it in every gunshot, a jagged fragment of Light poured into the bullets and embedded in my enemies. My Light is me, more than magic ever was.

Not to say I can't use both. I can feel the Light roiling under my fur, like a lightning storm in a bottle. I roll back to my hooves and lift my head, horn spitting sparks of crackling arc energy through the hole in my helmet. The floodgates break, and the universe sings. The blade at my flank calls to me, but I shun it. My Light recoils from its sheathe, spreading through every atom of my body, armor covered fur buzzing like a trillion lightning rods. The Bladedancer's way is precision and speed, balanced on the edge of a razor. The Storm isn't precise, it seeks out every potential path until it finds one. The Storm is fast, yes, but power is what makes the Storm deadly. I've been many things, a lot more than I can remember, but deadly is right at the top. 

For a split second, everything stops. Arc Light fills the air, tracing between atoms like a great web, spreading from the tips of electric wings at my sides. I can see the jagged lightning bolt my horn's become, filling in where something pre-FizzBuzz had broken it. And I can feel the world around me between heartbeats, the eye of the Storm. Let's go for... That one. A tendril of Arc zigzags out, making contact with the end of the Captain's snout.

Time starts, and my sight is filled with disintegrating Fallen, my horn of lightning spearing through the dust his skull once was. A thunderclap rebounds down the stone tunnel, the remaining Fallen cringing in fear. Good. Light roils and crackles through me, straining to be released, eager to be unleashed. My knife slips from its sheathe, hilt humming in the grasp of my electric wing. It springs forward as I flip back from the dusted captain, a vein of Arc connecting it to my body. I can feel it sink into the chest of a vandal on the ceiling, as my hoof crushes the skull of the Captain's second. Bouncing off his smoking corpse, singing Arc Light weaves through the tether and pulls. Another clap of thunder rings through the stone, my hindlegs wrapped around the skull of the Vandal. Arc surges, cooking his organs and charging his body. As the Storm begins to fade I roll to the side, weight pulling his body off the ceiling, arc charged wings springing out to launch him and myself forward. He crashes into the ceiling between four others, Arc discharging to sunder flesh and bone, five bodies reduced to ash. I am the Storm, a Goddess of charge and Light, and my will is reality.

The Storm begins to fade, my senses fading from charged zen as wings and horn dissipate once more. The cold bolt of adrenaline can never compare to Light induced divinity, but the song of Arc never leaves. A flick of my head pulls Double Tap's trigger bit between my teeth, the ornate double barrel flipping out of its protective sheath to wait on my side. I could taste the fading static charge in the Bit, rolling up from the Golden Age Arc generator embedded in the stock. I said something intimidating, I promise, but it was lost in the bit. 

Daredevil found me just as the enchantment from Double Tap was fading, my hoof stuffing a pair of shells into the chambers to be turned into electrical fury. I spat out the bit, giving her a grin beneath my helmet, stretching non-existent kinks from my legs. 

"Look who's here. I've been getting bored. Did you dig up Songbird yet?" 

I'll admit, I probably deserved the rock to the forehead. The grenade that welded itself to my chest plate and started glowing bright red was probably called for as well. I'm pretty sure it means Hello in Titan. "I'll take that as a no?" 

On the plus side, Pip had enough time to fix my radio while he was reviving me.