I was trapped, unable to move. The hive had found me. They had my son. Then something dark, full of power was at his throat. The Blade of Crota. I saw them slaughter my son. They made sure he died slowly, made sure it would frenzy me. I broke free, pulled my gun out of it's holster. I murdered four wizards before they paralyzed me. Some kind of hive magic, I'm sure. They took my son. They took my weapon. They took my sanity. Only then did I know, Only then.