[b]In my [url=http://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/67768840/0/0]last post[/url] I asked who you thought your Guardian was before they died, and left a story of who I thought mine was. This is a continuation of that story. I hope people like it because I'm really excited to write and release the next chapter! This guy is about to have his way with some Fallen forces.[/b] The voice was that of a woman. It was warm, comforting almost, but at the same time, very cold and mechanical. As his eyes adjusted more to his surroundings he could finally see what he was speaking to. A small metal object the size of a grapefruit hovered several feet in front of him. It resembled a three-dimensional star, and its pieces moved in and out as if it was constantly stretching. In its center was a spherical green light, which he assumed to be its eye, and the metal alloy encasing it was a radiant white. “Where….Where am I? Where is my daughter?” he said desperately between breaths. The Ghost’s entire demeanor seemed to shrink away from the question. He could see its various, pointed metal protrusions slump downwards, and its green light dimmed to a soft glow that barely illuminated his face. “She’s around here, I know she is,” he said trying to pick himself off the ground. It was no use, his body was too weak and sent him crashing back to the floor. “Ella! Ella!” He laid on his back screaming her name until his sobbing overcame him. The Ghost sat there in silence. Even though it was one of the most advanced pieces of technology in the galaxy, one that could even replicate life, the Ghost was confronted by something it couldn’t process; the human emotion of grief. “You’ve been dead for precisely one-hundred and fifty-six years, eighty-seven days, six hours, and forty-two minutes,” she said monotonously. He lay there silently for a few minutes, his sobs fading into the occasional sniff. “I guess you really are a machine, aren’t you? So, where are we?” The Ghost paused, as if it was almost hurt by his statement, but then proceeded to answer. “We’re in the land you humans refer to as, Chicago. Currently we are several hundred feet underground in the ruins of an old shopping center, and surrounded by Fallen patrols.” “Are those what killed my daughter?” His body language had completely changed. A cold fire burned in his eyes as he glared back at the Ghost. “No, but they serve the Servitor that did,” it said without hesitating. At the sound of this he tried to get up again, and succeeded, although his legs were still shaking beneath him like a newborn foal. “I’ve been gathering resources during my search for you. I should be able to synthesize something to help the acclimation process.” The Ghost’s green light shot out into the ground below his feet, and started to move up his body like a scanner. In the spots it had already passed he could see what looked to be armor made of leather and a shiny metal substance he had never seen before. As the light reached his neck he closed his eyes, not knowing what to expect. When he opened them he could see the various parts of his HUD flickering into existence. There was a small radar in the top-right corner, which was covered in faint red dots, and a white bar in the bottom-left that was three-quarters full. He checked the rest of his equipment. There were a few grenades, a small golden handgun that didn’t seem to work, and a large combat knife he twirled in his hand. Satisfied, he slowly turned towards his Ghost, his silhouette dark and menacing in the faintness of its light. “Lead the way,” he said, tightening his grip on the blade in his hand. [b]To be continued.[/b]