“Why do you do that, Shysie?” The small Hunter looked up, studying the five glowing portals then returned to a coin-sized device on the ground. Raze sighed. “Being in this situation would be so much better with someone who talked more.” A short burst of crackling electricity signified a short. Shysie cursed, but patiently continued working with delicate fingers. “Temporal energy,” she mumbled. After another moment, four fins opened from the device’s top and it began emitting a blue blinking light, barely perceptible in the room’s bright wash. Shysie pecked her fingers over the buttons on the small computer attached to her wrist. A series of rapid beeps gave her a satisfactory answer. Her wrist clicked in beat with the blue light of the device at every few seconds. “This will take longer,” Raze pouted. “It means we’ll have to clear each room.” “You complain too much for a Titan.” “I just want out! The Guardian said the door behind would take us to the beginning. He was either lying – which I doubt, as the Vanguard places so much trust in him – or something went wrong.” Shysie ignored him and trotted off toward the glowing portal. Raze followed. “Clover?” he asked as he passed the standing tablet. “Didn’t we just go through this one?” “Hmm. I always thought it looked more like a flower.” They passed through the wall of light and slowed to a walk. The clicking on the Hunter’s wrist stopped. “Shysie.” Raze gripped her by the arm. She regarded his hand. He couldn’t tell if she appreciated the contact or meant to cut it off. “At least let me in on your plan.” She stood, wordless, staring at his hand. Raze released her and held up both hands as a sign of compliance. The reflective visor of her mask lifted to meet him. “An old Hunter trick. I’ve been leaving short-range transmitters in each room so we can tell where we’ve been and where we need to go. I have many.” The large Titan sniffed. “Ah. Very smart. Where did you Hunters get such an idea?” “It comes from an old folktale. Far before the Collapse.” They stopped at the next wall of light after traversing the long corridor. “Hansel and Gretel, I think. They left bits of bread.” “If I were lost, I would eat the bread to avoid starvation.” “We [i]are[/i] lost.” “And we have no bread,” Raze added, sullenly. They pushed through the wall of light and beset upon the ancient and rusted Vex patrolling the room. They went down as easily as the others, though, this room was absent the three cyclops plaguing the previous. Shysie flicked a knife into a harpy’s eye and it crashed to the ground, twitching in its final moments of function. The large Titan continued with a group of three goblins, shouting wildly as the sound of bending metal and spilling radiolarian fluid came from a distance. Shysie walked toward the middle of the room and plucked another transmitter from her pouch. She could pick it up at fifty meters, which would allow her to detect it from nearly any point. Each chamber seemed to be about the same size. As she set it up, Raze appeared from behind the large stone sphere taking up the bulk of the room’s center. “I should think I could enjoy being lost in the Corridors of Time,” he said with a hearty laugh, “if it means I get to break Vex for the rest of my life as a guardian!” “This should be it,” she told him. “You should try having a conversation sometime, rather than adhere to your own world, Shysie.” She ignored him again. “I’ve mapped it out in my head, but I think,” her fingers grazed the glassy floor, “I think we’re almost there. The past three rooms have been familiar.” “But the Vex …” “Are not limited to any time or space. You know that.” Raze nodded. “Hmm. Well, I admit I hope you’re right. Which one next?” Her wrist clicked to life with the functioning transmitter. “Double-hex.” She nodded toward the intertwined hexagonal symbols on the standing tablet to their right. “Ladies first,” he offered. They passed through and trekked along the corridor, again stopping at the wall of light. Shysie looked up at Raze. He could hear the fear in her voice. “What if it isn’t?” Raze shrugged. “Then we’ll smash the Vex until we have no more to smash.” “Raze …” He placed a hand on her shoulder. This time, she did not regard it, but kept her focus on him. “We will get out, little Hunter. I promise.” Shysie cocked her gun and Raze pounded his palm with a fist. They charged in, heads swiveling, looking for their first targets. But it was empty. Raze punched the tablet with a glowing image of a cauldron on it. “Nothing!” he spat. Shysie’s wrist clicked. It was faint and not at the rhythmic cadence it held earlier. Jogging to the room’s center, she searched the floor before finally spotting the small device. “What is it?” Raze asked behind her. “A short range transmitter.” “That’s good. Is it working?” “Barely.” “Faulty?” “No. They have a two-week battery life.” “At least we found one of your breadcrumbs,” said the Titan, the optimism in his voice straining. Shysie picked it up. It appeared rusted. The blue light flickered and its brightness was hardly more than if it was off. “It has aged significantly.” “You started this no more than half an hour ago.” Raze breathed. Shysie shook her head. Her fingers tightened around the transmitter until it crumbled beneath the pressure. “Raze … we’re not getting out of here.”