Focuses on the journey of my Warlock, Kronos. I try to keep my fanfic within the cannon, feel free to correct anything that doesn't fit actual lore. Hunger Kronos sat in his ship, looking over Guardian reports from the EDZ. At this point the Warlock didn’t expect to find anything; he’d been combing the solar system for years without finding what he was looking for. Turning his eyeless faceplate away from the screen the purple exo thumbed the trigger of the Ace of Spades, the weapon of a close friend. Former friend. He’d pursued his vengeance already: struck down the Scorned Barons, reclaimed the Ace of Spades, and murdered Uldren, poisoning the Dreaming City at the same time. This hadn’t brought him the solace he desired, but rather had taken his burning rage and replaced it with… nothing. He felt hollow, as if a strong wind might tear away his exterior and leave in its place a void. Searching the depths of his emptiness he found something buried deep within. A feeling. A gnawing right at the back of his mind. A sort of white noise that he knew wasn’t just another auditory glitch. It goaded him on to find something he had once lost in the fires of the Tower. Something he’d felt so foolish to have left behind, yet ashamed to care so much about. His ghost shone into view above left shoulder. “Any luck?” “You see what I see, right?” “Huh?” “When you’re in your little pocket dimension, you see what I see, don’t you?” “Yes, and sometimes more.” Kronos gave a metallic chuckle, thinking back to all the times he’d heard ‘There, Fallen!’ after they’d already started shooting at him. “So, you know that I haven’t found anything.” “Well… you don’t have to be so touchy about it. I was just trying to make conversation.” “Don’t be like that. I’m just… frustrated. All the research, the investigation, even hacking Rasputin’s spy satellites, and I can’t find one guy.” “He’s not been known to be easy to find, you know.” “Except when threats to the City that even the Vanguard can’t deal with show up.” “I hear tell that people are saying that about you now.” Ghost couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice until he switched over to a more staccato rhythm. “So why aren’t we dealing with the Curse?” Kronos sighed, they were about to have this conversation again. “Those poor Awoken are fighting every day to save their homeland, the least we could do is clear out the larger threats for them.” “Other Guardians are taking care of it, just like Riven. You know, I shouldn’t have to be the one to do everything.” “Yes, but we aren’t doing anything right now. We should at least do some Vanguard work, or patrol, stretch that carbon fiber. We should do something.” “You really don’t think this is ‘something’?” “Oh I do think it’s something, just not anything good. I think I’ve been indulging these kind of behaviors for far too long. That first time, before the Red War, then with Uldren, and now… I can’t help but feel that you’re losing your path, forgetting your duty. I just-” Kronos bolted straight out of his chair, leaning forward, peering down at the surface. The white noise at the back of his mind had risen to a scream. A searing, burning cry that enveloped his entire being. Now he could feel it outside of him as well. He saw where it was, and who was with it. Burning it. “Have you found something?” Ghost incorrectly assumed that he was looking at a Guardian report. No, this was far more definite. Far more useful. Without a word, Kronos slammed the thrust forward. His sleek ship plummeted through the atmosphere, slicing through it like a blade. He had a destination. Soon Kronos stood in the midst of a ramshackle camp. Abandoned. It’s owner nowhere to be found. No real evidence that it was who Kronos thought it to be. Knew it to be. Warm ashes rose from a quickly smothered fire. Kronos reached down into the fire’s remains, searching until his fingers found the remnants of something he hadn’t held since before the Red War. It was cold. As he pulled it out, dusted it off tenderly, his ghost materialized, his eye wide and bright. “Is that… what I think it is?” A smile formed in the back of Kronos’ mind. He had found it. A broken weapon. An old friend. A welcome hunger. “Not yet.”