Snow falls on the lair as the inhabitants hurriedly pack up their belongings. It is coming. A female captain looks over her tiny child. At just a few months old, it sips ether through a tube, from a stationary servitor. She knows that it has come for her - the last baron of House Scar - loyal to her dead kell to the very end. She jerks her head upwards as the roof shakes - a ship. The fallen dive for cover as the jumpship bombards them with its guns. Its occupant jumps out and lands on the ground, feet first. It's here. A few vandals prime their line rifles and slam the beast with molten arc rounds. But the titan just shrugs it off and raises its weapon - slamming the trigger and pounding the vandals with lead as they fall - one by one. The fallen cower in fear as one brave dreg tries to prove herself and lunges at the monster. It slams the dreg with a punch, and before she even hits the ground, the monster launches a bullet strait through her skull, making Ether hiss from her destroyed mask. The monster moves on, gunning down each fallen meticulously. The baby cries at the sharp pings of gunfire, as the captain takes a knee. Wondering if there was any way to prevent this, she growls in her mask. Before walking out the door to face the beast, she glances back and whispers in Eliksni: "Be brave, little kell". The baby hiccups, unaware of its importance. The titan gasps as he removes his helmet. Toros, famed archon slayer, grimaces as he looks at a hole in his shoulder. A few of those vandals did a number on him. He is not worried though - his accelerated healing is already closing the gaps in his flesh. Suddenly, Toros hears the cries of a child. Fallen. He cocks his gun and strides over to what looked like a crib, hooked up to some ball. The infant confusedly looked up the barrel of the gun, not knowing it was staring death in the face. Toros rested his finger on the trigger - and then they come. Flashbacks, from before the collapse - looking at that baby stirrs something within him. An image flashes in his brain - a child holding a hand. He pulls the trigger just against the infant's face, making it scream in pain and have a long cut across its face. The titan bellows and throws his weapon to clank against the wall. He looks at his own hands - what were these feelings? These images? Holding his head, he sprints for the door but misses, and crashes through the concrete wall, rending and denting his armor. He stumbles to his feet as his ghost's feed echoes concernedly through his helmet - transmatting out of the ruined lair and into his ship. End of Prologue. Feel free to leave criticism and feedback!