There comes a time in every guardians history where they create an item of significance, whether through years of modification or creative design. Mine was the latter. Not all things that can be, should be. With that said, I will tell you my story with the last remaining breaths of sanity I posses. If you find me, slay my ghost and then slay me. I beg you. My name was, Raven-9. I had a terribly wonderful dream. I dreamed within a pool of light and was met with a vision for the Simulacrum. This armor was my answer to the dwindling light before the Traveler awoke. I thought it was a gift, would the light truly gift me with inspiration for evil? Possibly. It was supposed to pull energy from those enemies of the light and convert it to light, like so many other Warlocks do through the Hunger of the void. Forged from the light that remained on Io, it is an armor that covers the body from head to toe. Shortly after using it I felt the design working, and shortly after that i was unable to take it off. Now my servos and circuits have organic... things growing over them and in them. It is like the Void taken form. I feel through it, touch with it... strike with it. I cannot bare to hold my guns or my blade. The energy I gather this way is so much more intoxicating than with bullets. I gather so much that I use the energy within to attack at range and to attack when they get close. My ghost agrees. Too delicious to shoot. With the Great Machine awoken I hunger more and more. I take the light of those who think to trust me. I drink heavily. GIVEMETHIS.IWANTYOURLIGHT.FEEDTHEHUNGER.FEEDSIMULACRUM.BECOMETHATWHICHISME.