Part Five: Falling Fire The building swayed gently in the ever-present wind, crumbs of masonry falling with every swing. Herro closed his eyes and swallowed. “You can’t physically throw up.” He murmured to himself. “It’s impossible.” He opened his eyes, ignoring the improbable nausea, and looked out again from his perch. Pieces of rubble made his prone position uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to move, not now that something interesting had finally appeared. The ketch hovered, only the engines that kept it stationary against its tethers humming quietly, just audible above the howling drafts that swept continually through the ruined buildings. Red banners hung suspended below the great ship, snapping almost horizontal, twisting back upon themselves before stilling, over and over again, in an endless dance. “No movement.” He noted. Just as there had been no movement of any kind in the last four hours he had been lying here, trying not to throw up. Not a single dropship, not a single patrol passing by, navigating the rubble and water-choked streets below. “Maybe they’re sleeping…do Fallen sleep? Huh, wonder if they wear pajamas.” He muttered, “Do Fallen teddy bears have four arms?” He stopped, head tilting thoughtfully. “Fallen teddy bears.” He murmured again, trying to picture it and failing. [i]Are you trying to convince me that you’re losing it?[/i] “Still not talking to you.” Herro said. [i] You’re not doing a very good job of it.[/i] “Which part?” Herro asked before freezing and frantically adding. “Uh, he asked himself. There being no one else he would talk to.” [i]Do you want to take a closer look?[/i] Herro rolled to his feet, putting out a hand to steady himself as the building swayed again. “Ugh.” He bent over to take deep breaths. [i]It’s all in your head, you know.[/i] “Shut up, voice I’m not listening to.” The EXO straightened, one hand straightening his twisted cloak, the other still pressed against the crumbling wall. [i]That’s about to give, by the way.[/i] Herro snatched his hand back so quickly that he stumbled, one foot landing on solid floor, the other, nothing but air as the plaster gave way beneath his weight. He caught the edge of the hole briefly before that, too, crumbled and he found himself falling, completely out of control. His cloak snagged on something and caught, giving him a moment to dangle and observe the terrain beneath him. “Well, shit.” He had time to murmur before the material tore and he plummeted. --- No. She saw the other fall. No. He shouldn’t have even been there. It was too close. They would find him. Alone he would be lost. No. The Hunter leapt from the ruins of the building from which she had been observing the other. One, two, a hard landing but there was no time to make it smooth. She stumbled before regaining her footing, leaping from one piece of rubble to the other, making her way ever closer to where the other had fallen as quickly as her light-fueled feet would carry her. --- Herro clipped a piece of ruined building with his shoulder, heard a crack, but he couldn’t steady himself well enough to jump to a clearer route down. [i]Guardian! [/i]He heard his ghost shout. He bounced off another piece, heard another crack, saw the ground rushing towards him. One great effort and he made a mid-air jump, softening his fall just enough so that when he hit the ground it at least was not with a bone-crushing force. [i]Guardian, get up guardian![/i] Herro made it to his hands and knees with a groan before his arm collapsed under him, sending him back to the damp earth. “Ghosty.” He mumbled, voice strained. [i]I’m working on it, but you need to move.[/i] “Can’t.” Herro groaned. “Arm’s broken. Leg too.” [i]Guardian. [/i] The ghost’s voice was hushed. [i]We’ve found the Fallen.[/i] Herro raised his head with an effort. Surrounded. He tried to get to his feet as the silence was broken by the unmistakable sound of Fallen chatter. The surprise of his sudden appearance was wearing off. He heard the roar of a captain, the squeals of the dregs as they realized what had appeared in their midst. “Yeah, quite a prize to drop in your laps.” He agreed with them. “Ghosty?” He whispered, trying again to rise and failing. [i]There’s a lot of damage.[/i] The captain he had heard roar shouldered its way between the dregs, pushing them to the side as he, or she, Herro could never tell the difference, made its way unhurriedly towards the helpless guardian sprawled on the rubble-choked floor. It stared down at him. Herro stared up at it. “Hi, there.” Herro said. The captain cocked its head. It made a noise that might have been a laugh, blades appearing in two of its four hands. Herro stayed still, the longer the captain postured the more time his ghost would have to fix his injuries. “Sorry to have crashed your party.” He continued. “I didn’t even bring beer. Very impolite, I know, but I haven’t been able to find a decent brew since…” Herro cut himself off as the captain used the flat of one blade to lift his helmeted chin. “That’s not very nice.” Herro chided, feeling his broken pieces repairing themselves. Almost... “I apologized, didn’t I?” He complained. He saw the other blade swing back out of the corner of his eye. Out of time. The retort of a gun. The arm holding the blade dropped to the ground, still clutching at its hilt. The captain reared back, roaring. The void bloomed from its chest, sending out tendrils to catch the others that had gathered close to watch the nemesis die. [i]Guardian, move![/i] Herro sprang backwards, pulling out his scout rifle and taking aim at the first tethered head. The body didn't even hit the ground before he was sighting the next target. In the shadows on the other side of the room he saw muzzle flash, again and again before whoever it was rolled into the room, tossing down a grenade to take out the few that had escaped the grasp of the void. It erupted, melting them into ether and bone. Herro’s thrown knife caught one dreg in the forehead. Its head ruptured, spilling its life into the air. Immediately he turned and threw another. He turned again, raising his scout rifle instinctively to catch the captain’s remaining blade. He brought his boot up and hit it squarely in the chest with the heel of his hard boot, thrusting it away just long enough to summon his Golden Gun. In a flash of the sun’s fiery rage the skirmish was over. Herro lowered his golden gun and loosed the last two shots into the floor, his eyes on the shadowed figure that stood on the other side of the room, surrounded by the corpses of her enemies, poised. For flight. Herro lifted his hands and pulled off his helmet to tuck it under his arm. “Hi, my name is Herro-7.” She didn’t respond so he cleared his throat and said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m here to rescue you.” --- https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226890465/0/0 - Part 6 https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226526566/0/0 - Table of Contents