[b]Hi um, I’m new to this. I’ve been reading a story called “The Fallen Baby” lately made by COLORxCAT65. It really inspired me to make my own story (I like the concept/idea of fallen and guardians getting along and being friends). So um anyways, you should really go check out her stories. Anyways, this is my first time doing this, please let me know what you think! [/b] [b]P.S, got the archive # thing working (Thanks to a certain fallen kell) *cough cough Kell of Scar cough*. Now all you need to do is click on #burdenofwarden and you'll see all my chapters so far![/b] --The Jungles of Venus “Hey, get up!” shouted a familiar and deep metallic voice. There was only a grumble for a response from a Warlock lying on the ground in a sleeping position. “Get up!” shouted the voice again, this time with a more authoritative and annoyed voice. “Give me 10 years.” the Warlock grumbled in annoyance as he twisted his body to face the opposite direction of where the voice was coming from. “Fine then.” replied the voice in a threatening tone. The Warlock smiled inside of his helmet in triumph as he heard the distant footfalls fade into the distance along with the mumbles that followed them. That smile didn’t last. The Warlock’s eyes widened in fear as the ground beneath him started to shake and heavy footfalls rapidly came in his direction. He quickly tried to scramble to his feet, so he could try and dodge what ever was coming, but it was too late. Before the Warlock could get up he felt a sudden burning pain in his stomach as shock went all throughout his body, he was shoulder-charged by a Titan. He let out a loud shout of pain as he landed on the grass covered ground. While the Warlock wrapped his arms around his stomach, he looked up at the culprit with rage in his eyes. “Why!?” “No sleeping on the job, you’re supposed to keep an eye out while I loot these fallen!” the Titan responded. The Titan let out a long sigh, “Come on, get up.” he said as he offered his outstretched arm. The Titan wore a full set of light grey iron banner armor along with the helmet of saint-14 (although they both knew it was just a replica of the real thing). While the Warlock wore a black full set of the Death Singer’s armor. He was proud of the armor, he was proud of his accomplishments; at least that’s what he told himself over and over again in his head. The Warlock mumbled something under his breath before accepting the offer. The Titan helped him up to his feet. Once he was up at his feet the Warlock outstretched his arms and legs and began to stretch. “Sorry for the shoulder charge, I won’t do it next time.” sighed the Titan. He looked down in shame for what he’s done; he felt bad. The Warlock saw this, “It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t sweat it man.” the Warlock assured him. The Titan slowly nodded, if he could; he would smile. “But…” hissed the Warlock in pain. “My hand hurts a lot, I think it’s broken actually; take a look.” he said as he opened up his hand for the Titan to examine. “I don’t see anything wro-” The Warlock void palmed him. Before the Titan's mind could process what happened, he was on the ground grunting in pain. It was like his entire armor turned into hundreds of needles stabbing at him. “Thanks for the quick heal.” laughed the Warlock. He let out a slow and relaxed breath of relief as the pain started to leave him. “Okay,” grunted the Titan as he lifted up a hand in protest, “I deserved the hit, but come on man; don’t bloody use your void abilities.” the Titan complained as he slowly got up onto his feet. The Warlock shrugged, “Maybe next time you shouldn’t wake me up when I’m in the middle of a dream, T.S.” the warlock explained as he looked around at the fallen corpses littering the ground in front them. “Fine, Warden, I won’t make you be alert and potentially not die to a sniping vandal or hobgoblin next time.” grumbled T.S as he crouched down and started to loot a fallen dreg. “At least if I’m dead I could get some sleep!” chuckled the Warlock. As his chuckled died down, a small white ghost appeared in front of his face. “Sorry Warden, you know I can’t let you do that. Besides, sleeping doesn't do much- I mean look at me,” the ghost proceeded to fly around Warden’s head. “I don’t sleep and I’m in good shape!” “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Warden joked as he nudged his ghost aside to get to a fallen vandal’s dead corpse. The ghost buzzed in annoyance for a second, but then disappeared. As Warden was about to loot the corpse, a sense of dread overcame him and he had the sudden urge to stare into its eyes. The Vandal’s eyes said it all. In the final moments before its death all that was going through its mind was fear. Warden kept staring, he kept staring at the eyes now with the permanent stain of fear on them. Warden looked at the Vandal’s helmet's horns, there were seven yellow marks on them; he studied this, the marks represented the age of a fallen. The sense of dread filled Warden’s psyche, all he could think about now was what he had done; he killed a child. “What’s wrong?” S.I asked as he knelt next to Warden. He followed his gaze to the corpse of the Vandal. “Nothing, l-let’s go.” Warden softly said as he got up. T.S did the same. “Where to?” T.S asked as his ghost appeared above his hand, ready to take him into orbit if asked to. “Let’s go to the hideout, I just want to sleep.” Warden answered as ohe rubbed his forehead. T.S nodded as his ghost disappeared from above his hand. They both began to walk deeper into the jungles of Venus, with a sense of dread following not far behind them as they walked.