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Destiny 2

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12/8/2019 9:36:26 PM

For Revenge

(Page 78) “You know what's down there. The Watchtower. The Fanatic. Uldren. The end.” While her ghost is speaking, Shadow’s mind is reeling. Turning outcomes over and over. She knows she wants to kill the Fanatic. Not for Cayde, but for Variks. “Justice… or revenge.” “Justice,” she responds shortly. Of course, revenge on the Fanatic. But for Uldren, she hopes justice. “Uldren deserves what's coming to him, but…” Shadow holds back a sigh, feeling as if she were betraying her ghost. After all, she hadn’t even told him her plan. “Guardian: The "why" of what we're doing is as important as the "what". I don't know what you're thinking… but remember that.” She glances at him swiftly, then looks back to her controls. His words make her think. Why was she doing this? Was it because she still felt something for her awoken brothers and sisters? Or that Variks had reached to a more sympathetic and understanding part of her heart? She knew Uldren was not the same... something was wrong. Her heart had softened for the prince, desperate for his sister to return. Variks cared for him, and so should she. After all, Uldren and Mara were some of the only ones who had never called her a bug hugger; judged her for her liking to eliksni. She closes her eyes, imagines how she would feel if she lost Variks. Pity swamps her. Variks had failed to fix Uldren. But maybe she could. Doubt fills her mind. She frowns. Maybe she couldn’t fix him, but she could speak to him. She could try. But she’d have to get around both her ghost and Petra. And that would be no easy task. *** The guardian’s eyes burn in anger at the sight of Fikrul. No, he was no Skolas, and she reveled in the thought of how easy it would be to kill him. She keeps her comms on, allowing Variks to hear every bullet, every crack of arc, every exploding grenade. “Tell me that killing my friends made you feel good,” he hisses as she dodges away from him to handle his onslaught of scorn. “Tell me!” “Oh, it did!” Her fist collides into yet another body, evaporating it into nothingness, as she snarls at him. Her sharp teeth flash wickedly. Fikrul roars as she lights herself in arc, electric tendrils snaking along her limbs, coursing through her skin. She raises her staff to meet his own in an explosive crash of light. “I will pay any price... to be there when you die,” he seethes, shoving her backward. Variks scoffs quietly into her headset. Shadow regains her balance in time to remove herself from an eruption of flames. Tossing a fiery glare over her shoulder, she wipes out his scorn with an easy turn of her heel, waves of arc slicing through them. Growling, she slowly approaches the retreating Fikrul, gripping her staff tightly. Raising her weapon a final time, she launches herself at the corrupted fallen, knocking away his staff, and slashing her own straight through his body with a blast of ether. While Fikrul roars, she chokes on the tainted ether. Waving away the smoke, she glares down at the body of the fanatic. “The scorn...are... forever...” Shadow snorts. “Sure looks like it.” With a snap, the arc leaves her body. She grabs her gun. “Good work.” “Thank you.” “I told you a staff comes in useful, yes?” Shadow would have smiled if not for her ghost interrupting. “We did it. Only one name left… Uldren Sov.”

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