Xur has failed us. he has not brought the purple boxes of hope The Nine had promised. Guardians wary enough to have horded them during the last era of plenty eye their stock piles greedily. While others who weren't as frugal wander the wild scavenging from the dead. Raid teams turn on themselves as one by one the life saving rounds disappear from their magazines by way of some cruel invisible hand, and suspicion gives way to indignation, pitting Guardian against Guardian. Yet other Guardians fall to madness trapped beneath the moons surface, they empty their last weapon stores into the darkness in sacrifice to the Traveler that he may hear their cries, they are seldom seen again. The Exclusion Zone on Mars has become rampant with the glimmerless, hoping to get just enough to make it through the day, as the price gougers in The Tower writhe their hands in anticipation of the fleecing to come, and take advantage of the weary and forlorn with what can only be described as the callous soulless efficiency of the automaton, but still, the Speaker and the Architects put no words to the matter and rumor of dark corruption abound ....Why have we been forsaken, O' great and wise traveler will there be no end to our suffering?