Here's a series of journal entries I came up with for a separate thread about the Heavy Ammo Drought of 2015, updated to today's date: Day 1: Xur had no heavy ammo synths this week, ah well. I'll run by the gunsmith and pick up a few. Day 8: I can't wait until tomorrow, I haven't shot a rocket all day. I'm getting kind of antsy. Day 9: Xur still has not ammo synths, I'm going to have to do some glimmer farming and grab a few from the gunsmith. Day 11: I am now making dakka-dakka noise as I fire into the hordes of Crota's thralls. I'm nearly out and I need to conserve, Day 16: My fire team is out of rockets. We've been stuck down in the World Wound for the last 6 days, attempting to destroy Crota. Things are not going well. Day 25: It has been 2 weeks since my heavy ammo has run out. I dismantled my Super Good Advice and reassembled the shell around Doctor Nope. So far my fire team has not suspected anything with the exception of our other hunter. I had to convince him I had made modifications to SGA. Day 28: The entire team is now just making explosion noises while sitting around a large rock. The three warlocks are in the corner, trying to figure out how to launch left-over Ascendant material at the enemy. The titan keeps popping his defensive bubble, punching the air, and then quietly crying in the corner. Day 30: There is no longer any hope. I am the last one here. The rest of my fire team, save the titan, have thrown themselves upon Crota's blade. My stalwart friend said he would go for help. but I know there is no help. He will never make it out alive. I have heard the rumors filtering down from Earth. Xur has shown himself empty handed. No one will make it to the center of the moon again. I am alone. Day 32: I have captured the broken sword of a Hive Knight. It is little more than a hilt with broken blade, about 4 fingers long, but the edge retains it's sharpness. I shall keep it whetted on the many thrall skulls I have collected. Day 33: I have come to calling the most complete skulls by the names of my dead fire team compatriots. First, there is the gunslinger, Hwaxzor. The growing fungus atop its head matches his Symbiot perfectly. Next, in honor of my titan who went searching for help, I have lit a candle within one skull. Yes, there's good old DuckFace0069. Finally, I carved up the protrusions of bones on two with the strange scripts I find layered on the walls. A fitting representation for the warlock brothers, xXxW00TYxXx and T3hBl00w3dUpF1$h. I forget our last member, frankly he was useless. Day 34: Hwaxzor keeps looking at me funny. Day 37: I have been able to rig an antenna powerful enough to breach the Hell Mouth's interference out of Ice Breaker and one of the Sun Breaker's laying around. I tried using my Radiant Dance Machines but I was unable to receive anything but electronica. While unable to transmit, it does allow me to have some semblance of companionship here in the dark. It also informs me that Xur, once again, refuses to part with those vaulted heavy ammo synths. Day 38: Hwaxzor keeps asking my to turn the electronica back on. Says it's better than the dull PSA's we keep hearing from the Speaker and Vanguard leaders. DuckFace0069 says Hwax just wants to party, the fungus must be messing with his head. Day 40: The warlocks are arguing again, this time over the medicinal benefits of Ogre blood. I don't care, it's nasty enough to churn my stomach, but it's the only food I've had for weeks now. Thankfully it's worse going in than coming out, though the experience of purple pulses be ejected from my, uh, waist, is odd to say the least. Day 43: Xur is back again tomorrow, but it seems my Ice Breaker has regenerated it's last spark of hope. Adjusting the mechanisms that give Ice it's unique attributes have damaged them to the point they no longer function. With that my ammunition is nearly gone. I will soon be forced to rely on just my knife and partial Hive sword. Day 44: My knife just broke! Atheon be damned to the farthest reaches of time! Day 47: I had a dream last night. The Oversoul causes such odd dreams, but this is the first I truly remember. I dreamed of explosions, of Gjallarhorn speaking brightly and with great force in my ear, of Crota kneeling before me, his hunger gnawing and his words silenced. I beautiful dream, but one of silence. I see the rockets flying through the air but no sound greats me. DuckFace0069 says I'm just delusional, and the warlocks are cackling in the other room (they wait with Hwaxzor now, he gives me the creeps). Day 49: I have forgotten my name. I know no way to refer to myself now. Crota's taunts infuriate me now, though I don't know why. I forget why I needed to defeat him, only that I must. If only to get those damn warlocks to shut up! Day 51: I woke to a dream come true. Heard before seen, the concussion could only be one thing. Truth. No voice within the known worlds has the same ring of Truth. I put my Mask on and found a hand reaching out for me. Oh, Ducky, you came back... With just a nod he handed me a package of purple. I saw the rest of his new expedition party over his shoulder. Gjallarhorns everywhere! I loaded my own, and turn to see the dark god, my bane, now with a new look upon his face. Fear. Day 51 (continued): The dark god is dead. I almost wish it weren't so. But I did discover one piece of lore the other's know nothing of. Crota's heart, his soul. It is now mine. I took my Ally and forced the dark heart of a god into it. And now I have the most powerful force know to man, exo, or awoken. I have the Necrochasm. Day 52: The Necrochasm sucks. PS: If I actually mention your gamer tag in the post, sorry. Just random names I came up with as I went along.