The air is filled with the scent of burning buildings and bodies, with the sounds of sorrow, pain, and anguish, alight with the cruel flames of the scorch cannon’s scourge and the flashes of the marauders’ arc weapons. The village of Cornall cries for the help of the Lords of Iron and mercy of the Light as more Fallen surge forth. The seemingly endless sea of purple is spear headed by a single Dreg (or at least that’s what it seems to be). It is the queerest looking Fallen any of them had ever seen, granted they had seen very few. Two lone guardians stand in the square to meet this army. One brandishes a revolver with astonishing detail and designs, wirh solar energy whizzing around him, burning like an angry forge. The second a shotgun whose barrel gleams in the dusty light, arc energy crackles around her as she squeezes the pump and grip, the energy darkening to make it look like that of a thunderstorm.
The Dreg holds up it’s arm in a gesture for the sea of beasts to halt, to which they comply with no hesitation. A small machine floats into view and hovers by his shoulder. The entire village (at least what’s left of it) murmurs in terror, now seeing this is a battle of guardians, two on one, light versus dark. The Fallen Guardian cackles, drawing a single blade. The blade is as long as his arm and arc energy leaps from the blade to his body, lapping over him in miniature lightning strikes. The female guardian growls letting loose many shots at this rogue, all of which he simply either tanks or deflects with fluid flicks of the blade, each pellet making a ping as it hits the metal. The enraged woman bellows, “HOW DARE YOU BETRAY YOUR BRETHREN?!”
His helmet phases out in a shimmer of blue, revealing a shaggy man and a grinning face. There are many scars visible from only his mouth and chin being able to be seen due to either hair or a dark shadow cast by the hair covering the rest of his face. The two guardians take a small step back then a large one forward, at first taken aback by the grin which would have stricken fear into Shaxx himself but then realizing his cockiness for letting his helmet down. The two grin as well, but are wise enough to not let their helmets down to show it. They all pause in a momentary stand off before in a blinding flash of blue and cloud of dust, the man vanishes and reappears directly in front of the female, lobbing her head off as if he were cutting tissue paper. A shot rings out and the sword whizzes to a position to block the bullet almost the instant it can be heard leaving the chamber. The woman’s ghost appears and he goes to cleave it into pieces but is shot in the arm before he can, thrown to the ground by the momentum and is shot again in the shoulder. The solar man is very upset by his partner getting killed, even if not permanently.
The shaggy man’s grin lengthens as four more shots are expertly shot into his back. The man with the revolver has to reload, and the Shag’s tainted light begins to mend his armor and wounds as he stands up to his full height. The woman is resurrected and charges forth being cleaved in half once again and then the man lunges at the remaining threat which is now glowing green with runic symbols colored a menacing green hover over him and his armor, two dark green circles open like eyes over his face mask and the sword is caught and broken in two like someone lightly tossing a stick to someone who breaks it like a toothpick. The Fallen leader is shocked by this development before his head is destroyed in a single punch from the guardian who screams something in some ancient language and all of reality flickers and bends around this being. The man watched in terror as this fist from this all powerful man collides with his skull, shattering it and blowing his head up as if it were shot point blank with the biggest gauge shotgun known to man. A single other Warlock watches from the rooftop of a building through the smoke and flames. The bending of reality unbends around him. The glowing man then crushes the rogue’s ghost to powder.
After this lash out the figure disappears, leaving only awestruck civilians and mortified Fallen. One glare from this enraged Warlock is enough to send the whole army for the hills. After they have all ran he falls to his knees clutching his head. Seeing many figures in flames being struck down by other figures, piles of bodies with him sitting upon the crest. Then more Runes and the two eyes staring at him a white grin and then a third eye opening before it all stops and he is left clutching his head and breathing heavily. And deep within the cosmos… three beings are awoken.
A large ship flies into the orbit of Venus, looking at the lush green forests, overgrown cities and Vex structures. Within are six guardians, each friends that have been with each other for years. They land a little ways away from the entrance of the Vault of Glass, stepping out into the light rain. Each pulls out their weapons and cock it with a click. They all run to the plates in silence preparing for a fight as the red slowly falls and the white rises on all three plates and the Praetorians surge forth.
The fight lasts for hours, but eventually the spire forms and they all gather at the door. The door slowly opens and the six approach the vault.