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Edited by RicochetMKXV: 5/15/2017 4:47:24 PM
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Sentium Log: 10144 "Val"

[spoiler] This is a fan made series. Not official lore. If you do not like fan made content, leave now. I do not want this to be confused with official Bungie sanctioned content or an attempt to create it/forge it. This is for fun. [/spoiler] [[Log User: --REDACTED ACT FOG IDENT-- && Log Search: "Valkyrie + Sightings + Confirmed -a"]] . .. ... >>FOUR (4) RECORDS LOCATED. -- 1. GHOST "ARGO" @ [[TIMESTAMP CORRUPTED]] @ EARTH @ NORTHERN ICECAP @ GREAT FIELD [[AUDIO MARKED CORRUPTED]] -- 2. GHOST "ARGO" @ [[TIMESTAMP CORRUPTED]] @ EARTH @ LOW ORBIT [[TEXT ONLY]] --3. MARS VANGUARD SENSOR ARRAY @ CLOVIS BRAY ARCHIVES [[ LOCAL TIME -11:11:27:23:54]] [[AUDIO MARKED CORRUPTED]] --4. OLD PHILADELPHIA SENSOR ARRAY @ [[LOC. REDACT ACT FOG IDENT -- REJECT CODE: STARGAZE]] [[AUDIO MARKED CORRUPTED]] /4 ... ... >>RECORD LOCATED. >>>RECORD RECOVERED. >>>>RECORD DOWNLOAD COMPLETE. /play [i]*Static fills the terminal screen. For a fleeting few seconds, it appears as though the record is corrupted entirely. The wash of erratic haze moves across the screen in disjointed waves, brightening and darkening in violent flashes. Only after a moment of peering at the screen could one determine that they were actually witnessing something. Bright white, bright blue. Flickering back and forth, casting harsh shadows. There is certainly static on the feed, but some of what seems unintelligible visual noise is actually some furious series of actions taking place. It is difficult to tell the angle of the camera. It is certainly from above, and to a side. It is difficult to tell just what is dashing through, in and out of the frame in what my be some sort of courtyard partially in view. It ---[b] she[/b]--- is blinding. The shape is only visible in brief catches, somehow aided by the sputtering and rebuffering of the recording itself. The signal was being interrupted often, but a few of those opportune interruptions show a shape. She. [b]She[/b] was sheathed in lightning. Either her armor was of Light itself, or a blazing radiant white, which stood in such contrast to the dark shapes bearing down on her. Large, angular. Lumbering, while wickedly fast. Hive Knights? Hard to tell. One easily gets the impression that[b] She[/b] did not care what they were. The shape moves through the fray, exacting the most terrifying breed of violence on the rushing shapes. Dismissal. [b]She[/b] did not fire a weapon. [b]She[/b] wielded one, but it did not fire. [b]She[/b] is one but her presence is a projectile. A blunt rebuke to the shadows attempting to enter her flashing, flickering pool. The ground around her seemed torn, shattered, either carved into by stray lances of Arc Light or vitrified by some great heat. Perhaps this wasn't a courtyard. Perhaps this depression in the craggy ground laid with concrete long ago did not exist until she arrived. An impact crater, an invitation for the Darkness to pour down in the present deluge and attempt to snuff her out. The invitation was a lure. Her entrapment was a ruse. Her movements dispatched them. Dismissed them. A shining streak of what must have been her own sword versus theirs left only a sparkling cloud of ionize, atomized remains. Her disdain was palpable. How could making war be so beautiful, and so... disrespectful? The record is short lived. The video shakes, because the very earth shook. The flashes wash out visual, because all who cast gaze on this armored warrior were made blind. The feed stutters---but perhaps it were less signal interrupts and more the universe at large recoiling from the abuse it was taking. No such power should be so localized, directed, furious. And here it was. [b]She[/b] is surely what is known as a Titan. But [b]She[/b] surely does not stride among the Tower, the Vanguard. Something about her is ancient. Primal. Far too accustomed to this devastation. Comfortable in it, eased in creating it. All this, and there is no sound. There is no narration to the video, and it can hardly be made out even in moments of most clarity. Still it is as though her swings echoed. The skin tingles, as though some charge still remains in that cratered earth, somehow transferred through memory alone. Just an illusion, of course. The viewer is not blinded, as they are urged to witness. But they are deafened---deafened by... by something. Blinking insistently in the bottom right hand corner of the video record: [b] AUDIO BUFFERING. MARKED: DECIBELS EXCEED CAPACITY OF DRIVERS.[/b] A few more seconds of this cluttered record. One cannot hear, but one can [b]feel[/b] the thunder.*[/i] >>END RECORD

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