Hey folks, I'm not really sure why I took a long hiatus from writing fan fiction, probably working full time, marriage, a child, and trying to get that sweet, sweet loot, but it has been too long. To celebrate the release of House of Wolves, I figured I'd lead up to it with a piece about everyone's favorite Titan who killed a Kell with nothing but his head. As always, please let me know what you think, criticism, and what you'd like to see in the future. Most importantly, thank you for reading this wall of text. Also, now there's a part two: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/122124663 Shock rounds crackled through the air; explosions in the distance echoed in the chests of all present; the screams of the dying filled the gaps with a cacophony of Human, Awoken, Fallen, and even the distortion of malfunctioning Exo voices; and somewhere in the midst of it all a singular voice tried to be heard by the Guardians present. The chaos was in the shadow of a massive wall standing forty feet tall, one made from relic iron, scrap metal, debris from the Collapse, and necessity. Husks of ancient buildings stood with the warriors; though, they were squat, sunk into the ground, and more rubble than any actual form. Thousands battled on every side of the City, all hoping their fight wasn’t in vain, that the enemy hadn’t already punched through one of the other walls. The order of the Chain held the waves to the North and Northwest, led by their field commander Saint-14. He fought alongside his men, just as any Titan would; yet, he was almost completely indistinguishable from the masses. His bulky form was only added to by gray armor, metal over metal. There was nothing ornate to him; even his helmet was the listless gray with only a line of purple light that provided all the visual data his synthetic mind needed. His armor may have had more Fallen blood and ether painting it and his enemies may have given him more breadth, fearing a prowess they recognized, but there was nothing else discernable about the Exo. Saint-14 was never known to yell; his voice always remained impassive, if not ambivalent, to any factors. Instead, that seemingly callous voice just spoke louder, as loud as needed especially to be heard over the waging of war. “Repeat. I could not read you. Repeat.” He had been looking down in thought, speaking into his helmet’s radio, during a rare lull in combat. His gaze drifted up just in time to see a shock blade, charged with the same arc energy as almost all Fallen weapons, being thrust towards his chest. Instinctively, the Exo grabbed the hand wielding the blade and crushed bone in his grip. The yell of pain registered as a dreg’s voice as Saint-14’s other hand whipped around in a fist for a haymaker that simultaneously crushed in the creature’s ocular socket and snapped its neck. The dreg dropped in a heap at the Guardian’s feet and Saint stared at it while listening closely to any incoming communications. “-retreat, sir. I repeat: The Devils are in retreat!” He had noted a thinning of the legions pressing the line and actually felt a faint grin play across his metallic lips. “Which front, soldier?” Laughter filled the other end of the comm and, wherever the scout was, it sounded like there were people cheering in the background. “All of them, sir! All six fronts are retreating! Looks like they’re peeling off in their dropships, yellow bastards!” Saint-14 looked up and scanned the battle. Fighting had all but ended at the wall; most of the Guardians were cheering or helping one another back to the wall. He could see Fallen running towards the safety of the Cosmodrome; though, any lagging behind received bullets in their spines from the snipers perched on the wall. Every communication frequency was filled with joyous outbursts and it was warranted; they had passed the first test of survival since the Collapse and since the City had been founded. There was no time for it. “Guardians, clear the lines now.” He paused for a moment as silence began to filter into his audio. He even saw some Titans nearby turn to stare at him. “Has anyone confirmed the Ketch taking off?” The scout’s voice responded in a softer, slightly worried tone, “N-no sir; last seen, it landed in the old Cosmodrome near King’s Watch.” “All members of the Chain, form up immediately at Karmakshy; we press forward in five minutes.” Saint-14 unholstered his assault rifle and began to jog away from the wall, stepping on the bodies of the Fallen and carefully around the bodies of his fallen Guardian brethren. His subordinates began to move towards him, three already falling in line behind. “Belay that order.” Lord Shaxx’s voice belted over all the communications at a volume high enough to make the humans and Awoken flinch all across the City. “Belay. There will be no counter attack. Fall back to the Wall. Reinforce the wall.” All of the Chain’s guardians stopped where they were, confused at the dissention in the chain of command. Saint was their commander, but Shaxx? Shaxx led all of the regiments. He only answered to the Speaker and the Traveler; though, even that was questionable. Saint-14 stood still as well, still listening to the cheering in the background. “Ghost, a line directly to Shaxx. Private.” After a split second of his companion’s work, the Exo continued, “Sir, the Devils are in retreat. If their Ketch is still grounded, this is our opportunity to cut off the head. Request permission to proceed to kill Trykais.” “Denied. All units return to the Wall.” “Sir, permission then for a small-” Shaxx responded sharply, “Permission denied, Titan. Get your men back to the Wall immediately. You have your orders.”