(If you read my earlier Path of Sorrow series, this is it but reposted with a new tag such that it continues to be relevant as I make more material and so that you can use the tag to find all of the entries, including a good number of new ones I've been working on. Enjoy!) End of the Path The Cabal ship shone even in the outer reaches of the solar system. The gold inlay of its exterior dancing with the radiance of Sol despite its distance from it. Despite the cold. It had been a gift from Kronos’ second benefactor. Inside were docked many smaller ships, individual transports that for the most part weren’t in current use. Three, though, still radiated heat from their afterburners. Kronos’ fireteam had gathered to help him on his quest. The interior of the ship was even more gilded than its hull, though it glittered less. Sparsely lit by blue flames, the walls and floors were littered with the spoils of the fireteam’s adventures. A single rose in a glass jar, which never wilted nor grew. A blue banner. A chitinous horn. A chunk of bone which had once formed the hilt of a blade. A rebreather, far too large to have been worn by a man. A mechanical eye. A giant tooth. Kronos had taken nothing from Uldren’s corpse, save that which had previously belonged to someone else. Artemis and Atlas sat opposite from Kronos at the table set up in the midst of their shared glories. They couldn’t draw their eyes away from that which he held in his hands, nor could they keep from grimacing at the sight. The very presence, the very existence of such a weapon caused their light to recoil in dismay. Eventually, its bearer spoke. “When I return to the Tower, I’m not sure what will happen.” Kronos turned his gaze upon them, his metallic face unreadable. “I need to know that, no matter what, you two are with me.” He looked at each one in turn. “Can I count on you?” Artemis spoke immediately. “Of course. Without you, I wouldn’t even be alive right now. My ghost never would’ve found me without you. I’ll be right behind you whether it’s speaking, shouting, or fighting that needs to be done.” “Thank you.” Kronos and Artemis turned to Atlas, who rested his head on his combined fists. The deep tones of the Titan’s voice poured from his mouth slowly, carefully. “I am not sure about this… business. If we are met with hostility when we arrive I will defend you, but… I cannot say that I would fight. To kill another Guardian…” “I’m not asking you to do that.” Kronos holstered his hand cannon. “I don’t want to fight. Zavala and Ikora are two of the first people I met after my resurrection. Both of them are close friends. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt them, nor would I want you to hurt them, even to save me. All I’m asking is for you to defend me. Whether through words or through shields, but not with guns.” Atlas nodded his head. Kronos was still the Guardian who’d found and helped to resurrect him after the Red War. Kronos was still the Guardian who’d defeated so many enemies of the Light. Kronos was still a Guardian. “I am with you.” Kronos stood. “Then we are in this together.”