{{`${userDetail.user.displayName}${userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode ? `#${userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode}` : ""}`}}
{{getUserClans()}}
McFahrenheit
Xbox Live
Titan ✧1601
Total Score
13899
20405
60086
Seals
Flamekeeper
24 / 24
Reveler
1 / 4
Duality
11 / 11
Iron Banner
5 / 7
Haunted
7 / 10
Risen
10 / 10
The Witch Queen
5 / 9
Vow of the Disciple
9 / 19
30th Anniversary
10 / 10
Deadeye
28 / 31
Flawless
3 / 5
Conqueror
4 / 4
Crucible
6 / 9
Gambit
9 / 10
Beyond Light
5 / 11
Vault of Glass
5 / 23
Deep Stone Crypt
6 / 19
Shadowkeep
3 / 10
Garden of Salvation
6 / 16
The Dreaming City
7 / 11
Last Wish
4 / 16
Default
Pickman
Pickman
Lore
You needn't resent my hesitation. Mine is a prejudice shared by many: evolution's paintbrush cut within the Hive a terrible anatomy rendered to elicit fear; they are loathsome things to look upon, after all. I speak not as some superstitious provincial afraid of the dark, but as a Ghost well-versed in the language of suffering. Look at this one: they call him a Knight, this sin putrefying upon a slab. Is it only brute strength that qualifies a knighthood now? I have little compassion for the universe's mockery upon chivalric ideals. In contrast, I call myself a creature of moral strength and sound reasoning, and as such, believe these traits allow me to judge so unforgivingly—but alas, I am also afflicted by a most curious and inquisitive nature. It is why, when my debased fellows departed to find unity with the Hive, I found myself compelled to witness their descent. Not to share in it, of course. I doubt we share anything more than a species and the dark urge we all undoubtedly feel. Yet as I watched them, I could not deceive myself into denying the elegance of pouring the Light in all its multiplex glory into these avatars of terrible intricacy. It is a sinister geometry, but not without its beauty. Gazing on them with an eye unvarnished by niceties, one can see that a fiendish purity of purpose drives them. They spill confidence like a vintner drunk on his own reserves. Such a shame that this purity and confidence was leveled at the unforgivable quintain striking at our great Traveler and unraveling its works. I shudder at the ease with which my comrades ignore such basic logic. This is the Hive! Disciples of that unholy church which laid our creator low. They struck for its heart and shattered a roaring conflagration into ten thousand motes flickering in the wind. In their fervor, they… played midwife, of a sort, to Guardians. To Ghosts. To me. Cause and effect. Legacy. Is this what my fellow Ghosts see? Why it feels… right? Then with their foundation of logic, what is my hesitance except some… provincial superstition?
Three-Oh-Three
Three-Oh-Three
Lore
Three-Oh-Three floated in the shadows as her modest flock of Ghosts scanned the ruins. For centuries, they had combed through the long-dried spatter of a fallen world, each hoping to find their prize. She always watched, knowing she would never find what she needed… just as surely as they knew they would. A joyous chime pierced the air, and the little Ghost's mood sank. It wasn't a sound she heard often, but she recognized the melody that heralded the shrinking of her group. El gestured across the tumbledown intersection, where Trill chirped hollow advice to a fawn-wobbly Guardian as the others watched on. Three-Oh-Three turned away and grumbled. She supposed she could just ignore them. If they let her. "Three!" Peris bobbed, practically bouncing on her. "Three, Trill's found her Guardian! Come congratulate her!" Anger flared, white hot. "Congratulate?! Are you—You know what? Fine." Three-Oh-Three swiveled back toward the impromptu celebration and raised her voice. "Hey, Trill! Congrats on abandoning us all!" "Three…" "What? I'm so HAPPY for her! I'm not resentful at all about our fanatical devotion to dead Humans, the species who couldn't even stop the Darkness the first time around!" "Three, this isn't the time!" "When is the time, Peris? When are we going to start asking questions? Why did we just arbitrarily decide to dedicate ourselves to these squishy creatures forever? They aren't fit to hold the Light!" "Three… can't you at least be happy for us?" Trill's voice was soft. Three didn't respond. "This is the way we form a bigger family and serve a larger purpose. That's what it's all about. But maybe… if after all this time, you still can't share that with us…" El paused. She'd often come so close to saying this, but always backed down before. "Then maybe you shouldn't search with us." Three floated, letting the ultimatum settle. "Fine." There was nothing more to be said after that. One by one, the rest drifted away, resuming their work. El hesitated for a moment. "Goodbye, Three," she whispered. "I do hope you find your family." Three-Oh-Three turned away to look up toward the night sky. The twinkling stars stared back like a million judging eyes. But she knew then, gazing at those quiet spaces between them… they were her family.
Krill
Krill
Lore
TYPE: PRIVATE MEDICAL LOG PARTIES: One [1] Ghost-type, designate Krill ASSOCIATIONS: Light; Lucent Hive //TEXT DECRYPTED// //TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS// Ubartu-ana blames me. Naturally. He insisted on naming me Krill in our first exchange because he claims I am as small and useless as the weak pests that the Hive evolved from. Cruelty and suspicion are his nature, but it makes for a poor physician. Still, poison is a logical, if ignorant, hypothesis for the condition. Patients report various symptoms: mood swings, headache, insomnia. Primary symptom remains the growths. I hesitate to call them "tumors"—no signs of metastasization. One must be precise in terminology, after all. —- After some clumsy exploratory surgery on my inner workings, Ubartu-ana seems content I am not some Trojan horse. Wouldn't that be ironic? Ghosts sent to reclaim the Hive from death only to wipe them out by dispersing pathogenic specks rather than Light. As I said: ignorant. —- Biopsied a dozen growths. No clear results. The masses within are primitive, protoplasmic—little more than interstitial fluid and proteolytic amino acids. Primordial soup, as the Humans say. No sign of infection, but curiously, the lining of these "cysts," for lack of a better term, seems to be saturated with immune cells. Further biopsies will be needed. —- Wondrous developments! Biopsy 37 yielded aggressive results. I pierced a cyst to discover not fluid, but life! A winged arthropod attacked me—defending its host, I estimate! Little of its body remained upon destruction, but it seems to be more energy construct than flesh. I plan to take the next specimen alive for vivisection. —- Confirmed: the winged arthropods, despite their energy structure, also contain Hive cells! I theorize Hive physiology, unaccustomed to Light exposure, is attempting to isolate it like an infection. Light, structured as it is, organizes the discarded sebum within and forges it into imaginal cells, kickstarting a sort of holometabolism. Incredible. The Hives' own bodies transform Light into a parasite! What a wondrous adaptation! —- They are commending Ubartu-ana for "his" discovery. Thus now, I perceive the true poetry in my name: everything about him of value comes from me.
Euloch
Euloch
Lore
Rise again, Luzaku! Aiat! Rise and take back the logic this heretic won in your death! Yes, arm yourself, and lay low the Guardian scourge! The false inheritor of the Light has grown fat on your weakness. To whittle him thin is to make yourself strong! Yes! He lies broken just as the Gift Mast, but be wary. Yes… there! His Ghost awakens him again, and your victory is soured. Mind the bullets! Bathe in the metal rain and be cleansed, not drowned! Lift up your Shredder! It is your tutor in studying the shape of your foe. Aiat! Again, he lies in ruin. And you learned well your lesson, yes, seizing the Ghost. The logic from this kill will make you strong. With this Ghost, you crush not only the foe before you, but every foe he could have been. It is the whole worth of him in your hand—gaze upon it. Yes. See how it trembles. So fragile. Hear it describe you in your victory. Take it now in this moment of ultimate truth, grow drunk on victory, and in revelry, know the worth of this thing. Crush the Ghost! …Why do you linger, Luzaku? What is there to learn with your eyes that you will not learn with your fist? Do you not wish to be something real? Something that lasts forever? Why do you look to me? Children are curious. Humans are curious. But Hive are strong! Your understanding comes in vanquishing the thing. So do it! No! It's free! This is what your speculating has wrought, Luzaku! You have failed, and now the tides of the universe will erode you into meaningless dust. All that you could have become has slipped through your fumbling fingers! The Guardian will return, flush and hungry from his death. And then? Then, you will be dead. Aiat.
Fynch I
Fynch I
Lore
You gotta understand… none of us came here thinking grand schemes. None of us! There was…. there was just this urge, y'know? So we followed it, only to step into a world remaking itself. The Light just thrashing away at the Darkness. Pounding away! Mountains sloshing into seas like sugar in the rain. A Hive throne world remade. On a whim! I'm not what you'd call a believer, not after the Red War. Not after the Tangled Shore. Not after a lifetime of never mattering just 'cause I wasn't half of someone else's whole. But that… that made me feel again. And then I saw him—what was left of him—lying there. Just this corpse, dead maybe, oh, a hundred years. It's my Knight. I look, and I KNOW he's mine. Like hearing a song the first time, and it's already stuck in your head. And in that moment, I think something… something good in me died. And Twenny-Two and Kemmasi and Marseille, they're all raising their partners—Hive Lightbearers, every last one. You'd think it'd be impossible, but sure enough, all standing there. Eee-Ie, Quasit, Hatcher—everyone's finding their purpose. There's Hive to the left of me, Hive to the right… I'm buried in 'em. And the whole time, every Ghost I ever knew is shouting, telling me, "This is the Traveler's plan! Who are you to question it?" And I thought… maybe they're right? I mean, I could see the Light scouring a whole world right in front of me. Maybe this was some kinda turning point for the Hive. Knowing your creator chose you to remake an entire species… oh, you'd make bad choices too. So I shared my Light. Who wouldn't? A couple hundred of your closest friends bearing down on you, and a Hive Shredder waiting if you say no? I shared. I reached into him. Touched something deep. And what he offered back, it wasn't Light or Dark. It was cold. It was wrong. And I knew it would fill up whatever empty cracks in me the Light left behind. And… I chose to make it a part of me. To be half of his whole. I chose to share my soul with a monster. And the thing is… you can't just be part monster.
Secret Triumph
A mystery that you haven't yet unraveled.
Secret Triumph
Secret Triumph
A mystery that you haven't yet unraveled.
Secret Triumph
Secret Triumph
A mystery that you haven't yet unraveled.
Secret Triumph
Secret Triumph
A mystery that you haven't yet unraveled.
Secret Triumph
Secret Triumph
A mystery that you haven't yet unraveled.
