//------------------------------// // Darkness Zone: Part 2; Memento Mori // Story: Light of Harmony // by GjallarFox //------------------------------// Shirska stepped forward into the center of the room, swords at the ready. Zeklas didn't even bother keeping his swords up, letting them hang limply from his hands. It was a display of power, of dominance. All present in the room understood the meaning of such a gesture, and Applejack couldn't help but tighten her grip on her weapon, arc energy crackling and begging to be released in Havoc. Fluttershy simply placed a hand doused in void fire on her shoulder, not to hold her back, but to reassure her that Shirska would be the victor. "The heroine appears," Zeklas taunted, holding out his arms, "here with her spear of justice. Hmph. How childish. You never really did grow up." Shirska raised his sword to block as Zeklas threw a limp-armed swing at him. The clash of the metal resounded through the throne room and sparks flew from where the arc-charged blades touched. Zeklas threw another predictable swing, which Shirska ducked under, jabbing Zeklas in the leg to little effect. Zeklas then leaned back and brought one of his swords around like an axe for a downward chop. "Why is he fighting like that?" Twilight whispered to her fellow Guardians. "Surely he understands how to actually wield a sword effectively?" Shirska easily parried the telegraphed attack and sent the sword hurdling off to the side with a slap of his own sword to Zeklas' wrist. "That's not the point of this fight to him. It's not about killing Shirska. It's about doing as much mental damage as possible before he goes," Rarity interjected. "He knows he's going to lose. He doesn't know how to effectively fight with swords. He just wants to break Shirska's spirit." "You were always frighteningly talented with sharp things," Zeklas mused as he quickened his pace, swinging his sword in wild patterns in a vain attempt to keep Shirska on the defensive. "But I don't remember teaching you. How much whoring did you have to do to get someone to teach you swordplay?" "Save your breath for when I slit your throat," Shirska growled. Though Zeklas was making more attacks, Shirska didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. He continued parrying and deflecting all of the incoming swipes of his father's blades, as he had for the past few minutes. "Don't you get it? There is no such thing as justice. There is only power. Who has it, and who doesn't. The Great Machine will not give justice, only power. Your ideals of a moral, just society are childish pipe-dreams. Your hope for peace is impossible to achieve. You can't rid the universe of its need for power. You can't forgive the Ghouls for the children they've starved of ether and you can't forgive the Great Machine for abandoning us and you can't forgive the other Houses for their cowardice at Six Fronts, and you can't forgive children who act against their parents. You must wield power. You must force the hands of all who get in your way and you must hold that power like your dying ration of ether. Your spear of justice has no place here, no power against the words I hold." Zeklas ended his flurry of attacks, dropping his swords. "You can't kill me. I'm already inside you. I will have power over you long after you slit my throat and watch my ether dissipate from my severed head. I will always have your soul in my ten thousand hands. There is nothing that you can do about that. The shackles I leave on your mind will re—" Shirska sheathed his own blood-soaked swords back into their scabbards as Zeklas' head fell to the floor with a dull metallic thunk. Ether seeped up from his body's lungs and out of his maw, and out of the pumps to his helmet's respirator. "You forget, father, that I am a scientist," Shirska said quietly to the body and head as they hit the ground. "Only facts have meaning to me." He looked up at the Pilot Servitors, which looked back at him, unblinking and unfeeling. He spoke in his native tongue, "I, Shirska, Prince of House Kings, appoint Esther as new Kell of House Kings. I also appoint Greksis to the rank of Baron, and call for the immediate increase of his ether ration. I denounce my place on the throne, as I have another House which demands my loyalty. May this House find one day the wisdom of the Great Machine, and find an ally in House Harmony." Turning back to his pony companions, he spoke again, softer, "My business is finished here. It is time for us to leave." He then took an old human artifact, a spade and the word "ZIPPO" finely engraved onto the object, and flicked it open. The metal clinked loudly against itself, echoing against the silent throne room. He then flicked the small wheel hidden beneath the cap, and watched calmly as it erupted into flame. "May your soul feel these flames for eternity, Zeklas, the Perverted." The old flaming object was tossed onto the body unceremoniously, over the shoulders of Shirska as he began to walk away, back toward the Ketch hangars. It landed on the cape of Zeklas' corpse, igniting the cloth, and then the rubber and plastics of his armor, and then the blood and flesh soaked in ether. As the corpse burned, Shirska and the ponies left the throne room and calmly made their way out of the Ketch. "Y'all good, Shirska?" Applejack asked awkwardly. There was a pause. It hung there in the air like a cloud of dust. For a moment, Shirska looked over to his friend and attempted to put words to his emotions, to quantify his emotions like the results of his research. He wanted to make it simple, like numbers; easy to understand and unmistakably defined. He wanted to find an objective way to express himself, but found no words towards that end. And that moment of hesitation was all that was needed. Applejack shook the arc from her hand and placed it on Shirska's shoulder, only for it to be vaguely shaken off as Shirska kept moving. "We need go. Walkers soon. Many Walkers. No time for wasting." Applejack and the others shared a look through their respective helmets before following again. They passed in silence through the empty halls of the Orbiks-fel, the only sounds being the clunking of their boots on the metal floor. As they drew nearer, the sounds of Skiffs hovering began to make itself clear. They reached the door out to the hangar, and raised their weapons as they passed through it. Three Walkers painted in Kings colors stood facing the door, cannons trained on the ponies before they even set foot on the catwalk. A line of Servitors stared coldly at them from behind the Walkers, and Captains climbed down from the backs of the Walkers with strange shoulder-mounted weapons. Shirska dove between the rails of the catwalk, somersaulting down to the main hangar floor, drawing his rifle and firing into the crowd of his ex-comrades with a seeming lack of remorse. Applejack pulled the rest of the ponies with her out of the door in time to watch one of the Walkers put a shell through it, the flames of the explosion billowing out of the hallway like a shot from a gun. A few Vandals had begun running up the stairs to meet the ponies' guns with blades. They were shocked to find that Applejack had other plans, throwing her Storm Fist into the metal flooring as the Vandals approached, causing them to freeze in their tracks as the lightning coursed through them. Fluttershy then picked up the pair of Vandals and slumped them over the railing, tossing their swords down onto the main floor. She paved the way forwards punching Vandals and Dregs away with fists harder than steel. But for all the violence, she took special care to suppress her own void Light so they wouldn't be consumed. After all; Shirska had mentioned some of these Fallen were his friends. What kind of friend would she be if she killed one of his friends? All three Walkers howled like cicadas, their lasers fixating on Fluttershy as she stepped out into the middle of the hangar. "Get behind me!" she called. Her entire body lit up with void flame, and for her time slowed to a crawl. The Walkers fired their shells, three one-hundred-five millimeter high-explosive rounds spiraling forwards with enough force to pierce the hull of a Skiff through and through before actually exploding. Fluttershy stamped her foot into the ground and braced for impact. The shells hurdled forward. Fluttershy focused on the Void. The Void answered, and allowed itself to be shaped by her steady hand. The Ward went up, and the shells slammed into it, exploding in harsh blasts of fire and shrapnel. But the Ward held true, gravity and Light unbreakable in the face of incoming violence. With a moment to breathe, the Seven reloaded their weapons and began talking strategy. "Rainbow. I want you to open up with a flux grenade to the central Walker. Shirska, if you have any flux grenades, toss them at the other two. Aim for the face-plates," Twilight began. "Can you do that for me?" "I gotchu," the Hunter replied, popping her hand cannon's chamber back into place. "I have two. I will get the side Walkers," the Eliksni said. "Good. Next, Applejack, I want you to toss a flashbang at the crowd of foot soldiers between the middle and right Walkers," Twilight continued. "After they're blind, I'll need you to lay down some cover-fire on the other group." "I can do that," Applejack responded. "That should blind the Walkers and most of the foot soldiers, which will leave them open for us to wail on the Walkers' legs. We're going to focus the left Walker first, and move right as we go." The Warlock turned over to her fellow unicorn, and her lover. "Rarity. Fluttershy. Once we expose the core of the left one, we are going to toss grenades at its core. Rarity, use a scatter and try to get it lodged between the core and the armor. I'll use a fusion, and 'Shy, you can use a magnetic. If this works, we'll just rinse and repeat on the other two." "Got it," Fluttershy grunted as she slung her shotgun across her back and pulled her pulse rifle back out. "You can count on me, darling," Rarity confirmed. "Showtime, my lovelies!" "Alright, go!" Twilight called. Rainbow leapt out of the Ward, and Shirska stepped out, both of them tossing grenades at the Walkers watching them. Arc Cannons roared and fired at the two of them, but Rainbow twirled around them in the air, and Shirska took the hits as though they were nothing, his chestplate glowing brightly from residual heat and arc energy being absorbed. The flux grenades attached themselves to the face-plates of the Walkers before detonating, the arc-charge overloading the Walkers' sensory input circuits. Unable to see, the Walkers lowered their heads to the ground and moved their front legs to shield their faces. With that, Applejack jumped out and tossed a flashbang down to the group of troops between the right pair of Walkers. The tiny sphere bounced once in front of a Captain, who roared before the explosive went off at its feet. Everyone had passed out of the Ward to begin unloading on the left Walker's legs, with Applejack turning her fire slightly to the right every few shots to keep the not-blind group of Fallen troops suppressed. Pinkie giggled loudly, and a moment later there was the distinct fwoosh of a rocket lurching forwards. And sure enough, a rocket slammed into the Walker's leg, blasting one of the leg plates off, and causing the Walker to lurch backwards as though in pain. Just a few seconds later, Twilight, Rarity, and Fluttershy all tossed their grenades at the Walker's now exposed core, with Rarity guiding hers just a bit more with her magic to ensure proper placement. Once all three stuck to the machine's core, everyone popped back in the bubble and watched as the head of the Walker was blasted off the body with multiple concentrated explosions. Inside the Ward, the Seven sighed in relief as the Walker went down. Outside, the Fallen screamed in fear at the power of the Guardians. Except for one Captain, who charged forward, hopping over the now dead Walker and firing shots from its shoulder-mounted weapon. The first few exploded on contact with the Ward, but the last one stuck to the wall of the Ward, giving off an eerie orange glow. "Move! Cannon will break Ward!" Shirska warned, backing out of the bubble and pulling his swords out. The small sphere of orange light sparked, growing larger with a loud tick. As the Captain closed the gap, the shot grew again. Fluttershy was caught in the blast of the cannon shot. The solar spike exploded, puncturing the Ward and tearing it to shreds, with Fluttershy still inside. Luckily, there was no shrapnel, but the heat from the blast was plenty enough to put a regular person in a hospital for weeks. Her wings were drenched in fire, burning off most of her feathers and searing the sensitive skin underneath. She screamed in pain as she was knocked to the floor by the blast. "Shy!" Twilight called, whipping around and leaping towards her lover. Fluttershy's Ghost was out and working on healing her wounds before Twilight had time to react. Meanwhile, Shirska had retaliated against the cannon-bearing Captain, slicing at it with his blades. The cannon fell to the floor, an arm still attached to it. Shirska kicked the enemy Captain away and grabbed it, tossing the arm aside. "Shoot Walker on mark!" The others raised their weapons, watching as Shirska put one of the cannon's spikes in the middle Walker's leg. Once it exploded, the leg's armor plate flew off, and the Walker's core exposed itself. The tempo of fire was set by Applejack's auto rifle, with everyone else following along. Shirska put another cannon shot on the Walker, holding it there like the Captain had to the Ward. The cannon shot exploded early, due in no small part to the sword suddenly sticking out of Shirska's abdomen. Applejack turned her attention to the Captain, dropping her rifle to the ground and leaping into the air. As she fell, she somersaulted, spinning her leg outwards, slamming it down on the offending Captain's head, shattering its helm with her boot and causing the Fallen to ragdoll to the floor. Shirska fell to his knees, looking down at the blood-soaked blade, gripping it with his hands as he gasped desperately for strength. With all his might, he shoved the blade back through the hole it had made in him. His voice failed him as he tried to scream in pain, the only sound emerging being the sickening gargle of blood in his lungs. The blade fell out from his back, clattering to the floor as he fell too. Applejack screamed his name, but something else called him too. Something warm and familiar. Something full of light and life. Orbiks-13 floated over to Shirska, doing its best to patch his wounds, but failing. Applejack turned, her body sizzling and cracking with arc energy, her fist coated in ionized nitrogen and oxygen. She broke into a hard sprint, her legs slamming against the ground with the impact of rockets. Her feet fell faster than her machine gun's rhythm. Her lungs took in as much air as possible, and her breath became squalls. Her body became a superconductor in a storm, and her fists were to be lightning. In one great leap, she slammed her fists down into the Walker, the impact vaporizing the core and tearing the remains to shreds. She turned to face the Fallen, screaming in pure pain and anger, her fists charging with arc energy still. The Dregs howled in fear, pulling triggers on shock pistols to no avail. Her fists continued moving, each punch she threw was a flash of lightning, every scream the roll of thunder. The Fallen were quickly in disarray in the storm's grip, and nothing was built to withstand her. Pinkie, in the mean time, had picked up the cannon from the ground, aiming at the last remaining Walker and pulling the trigger. The first shot exploded on impact, much like her rocket launcher. "How do I..." She pulled the trigger again, holding it down. The cannon clicked audibly, and the shot was visibly stuck to the leg of the Walker. But before she could celebrate, she noticed a laser trained on her. "Girls! Move!" Rarity dove towards Shirska, out of the way of the incoming shell. As the shot was fired, time seemed to slow. The sixty-pound high-explosive artillery shell spiraled forth from the barrel of the Walker, flames coating it and propelling it forwards. It followed parallel to the laser, and Rainbow saw its path leading to her friend. In her split second to think, she decided the best course of action was to take the hit for Pinkie. So she spun on her heel, turning around and spreading her wings and arms, putting her back in the way of the shot. It slammed into her, exploding on impact, shredding her body to pieces. When the smoke cleared, Rainbow was nowhere to be found, but her Ghost was floating where she should have been. Pinkie dropped to her knees in shock and horror, her mane going flat and tears blurring her vision, and her hands reaching up to cover her face. The cannon shot overloaded from her finger staying on the trigger too long, and blasted the entire leg off the Walker, but Pinkie was gone. Applejack cried havoc on it but no one noticed. Rarity screamed. Twilight looked up, and took in the new situation. Rainbow's Ghost was out but Rainbow was not there, Pinkie was on her knees, Rarity was screaming, Shirska was on the floor bleeding out, and Fluttershy was being tended to by her Ghost. But at least the Walkers were down. And then she noticed a feeling. The same feeling she'd experienced when she was dead. The feeling of understanding. The feeling of knowing what to do. She stood up, Light filling her body and overflowing in Radiance. She ran first to Rainbow's Ghost, pulling Rainbow herself from nothingness and putting her back on solid ground. She then shed her helm, revealing her mane to have the same etherial effect as her late mentor, with the sunlight of dawn shining from her. She picked Shirska up in her arms, tears falling from her face into the wounds. Familiar magic flowed from her horn, but did not shine from Shirska's body. "Will he be okay?" Applejack asked as she returned from the field of destruction she'd created. For a few moments, there was silence. Shirska's chest didn't move. Twilight looked up at her friend with a look that she didn't like the implications of. "I can't do much for him. He's not a Guardian. His wounds are resisting my magic," Twilight said as her Radiance faded. "I'm sorry..." "Let's get him back to the Tower. Maybe someone there can help," Applejack responded, picking up her fallen friend. "We need to move fast." "Applejack," Rarity murmured. But Applejack had already taken off running, her ship passing over her and transmatting her and Shirska in. Her voice came in over the comms, "Badgers, this is Pony Four, mission complete. Prince One is heading back to Tower for immediate medical attention. Catch you there, over." ------ "Your time here is coming to a close. Are you ready?" the universe asked. The mote of light thought for a while, and answered, "I don't know." And the universe just smiled and replied, "That's okay." Silence. Like just before the symphony. The mote of light had practiced for what felt like countless eons. How much time had passed in the outside universe was a debate best left to Warlocks discussing the intricacies of Vex-based paradoxes. An opening note. A bell tolled one. The note hung in the air tentatively deciding how much to reverberate. An answering chord. A bell tolled two. A melody formed from the scratching of supernova dust on the ice of void-bound comets. A meteor shower played a quick riff on a planetary timpani. Radio storms from Jupiter and Fundament and millions of other gas giants blended together to make an ensemble. A bass drum hit. The bell tolled three. Sunspots changed the chords for a key change by interfering with the gas giant ensemble. The mote of light savored the symphony of the universe. It knew that once it got a new body, it would never hear the symphony again. The music wove a story as the bell tolled four. It began as a dirge: a funeral march. Slow. Heavy. The weight of millions of caskets on the shoulders of but a few survivors made itself present on the mote of light. The bell tolled five, and the bass drum silenced the rest of the orchestra. The timpani set the tone of slaughter, and the choir sang softly, and somberly. The bell tolled six. The orchestra fell silent. Entire solar systems, once teeming with life, lie in dead orbits. Civilizations collapsed. Warriors and Guardians fell. The rangers ran for cover and the children struggled to hold back screams of anguish. The bell tolled seven. An opening note from a brass instrument. Long, low, and slow. It hummed a tune of hope being restored. Of life returning from the ruins. Of life continuing. It repeated the melody, this time for the enemy. Life was not so easily extinguished. Resistance was not futile, but inevitable. The bell tolled eight, and the horns called the survivors to arms. The twang of rangers' bows and the stamping of steel armor resounded from the foothills as life fought death to the ninth toll of the bell. The bell tolled ten and the planetary ensemble crescendoed into existence again, mustering all of their forces with elegant vibratos. The void sang a simple, memorable melody that echoed through the cosmos. The bell tolled eleven, and the orchestra held at a fermata, the remainder of the piece yet to be written. And then the bell tolled twelve. ------ The Six returned to the Tower, Applejack carrying Shirska in her arms, calling out for a medic upon transmatting out of her ship. The majority of the Tower's hangar could only look on, staring at her as she desperately cried out for help. But Amanda Holliday came forth and helped guide her down to the medical wards used by herself and the other non-Guardians in the Tower. The others arrived later, and were pointed in the direction Applejack went by the other Guardians. The people in the metallic halls seemed to all know who the ponies were and where they needed to go, as everyone they met just pointed in a direction. It took them a while, but they eventually made it down to the medical ward, and found Applejack sitting on a bench just outside a pair of swinging doors that clearly led to the operating rooms. The ponies gathered up and sat down on the bench with her, waiting in silence together for the news of what had become of their ally and friend. Upstairs, in the Vanguard Hall, a lone Guardian from the strike on the House of Kings reported on the mission. After they had said their peace, they left, leaving the Vanguard to their devices. "This is... bittersweet. We've successfully destabilized the House of Kings, but we may have lost one of the best allies we have..." Zavala mused to himself. "Never figured you for the type to talk to yourself," Cayde said. "Way I see it, it's a victory. The House of Kings may not have been the most present threat, but they were more dangerous than the Devils and Winter. Killing the Kell will force the House of Kings to change their power structure, and how they choose to use that power. They'll either fall to infighting, which we can clean up easily, or they'll get bold and become a present threat, which gives us the opportunity to neutralize them." "The problem is, we may have just lost the only ally of the Tower who has firsthand knowledge of the Fallen, and specifically about the House of Kings," Ikora chimed in. "I mean yeah, but at least we didn't lose any Guardians," Cayde said. "Cayde. Look at this from the long-con perspective," Ikora replied. "Shirska was the prince of the Kings. Princes tend to be taught the ways of nobility so they can rule properly when they inherit the throne. Shirska's not inheriting the throne. He knows who will in his place. He could tell us exactly what to expect." "...shit." "Yes. Shit indeed," Zavala sighed. And somewhere, down in the City, bells tolled twelve.