Destiny 2: Condemnation

Notes from Jay: A brief little bit of writing. What might be going through the mind of the Guardian (the player-character) from Destiny 2, after their encounter with the overpowering Dominus Ghaul, the new villain. Inspired by the "Our Darkest Hour" trailer for Destiny 2 from Bungie. Ficlet below the break.

Consciousness returns to me. The pain is still there. My body creaks-- not my ruined armor, my body-- as I push myself to my knees. The wreckage of the Tower smolders above me. The Chosen-- the flagship of the Dominus himself-- hovers above that, a testament to his victory. And above that, the Traveler, Its scarred white surface shimmering under a blood-red shield. I look to it, and desperately I try to reach inside myself, to find the Light, to pull it toward me. As lightning flashes, I reach for the Arc, but barely a spark crackles along my arm. As the City burns, I reach for the Solar, but the embers die in the cascading downpour. In desperation, I reach for the Void, but its glimmers slip through my grasp like vapor.

The Light is gone. Snatched away from me by a jealous warlord.

The Dominus' spiteful words come back to me. They bring with them righteous rage and a subconscious retort to them all.

You're not brave. You've merely forgotten the fear of death.

He speaks as if he knows the trials we have undergone. To travel into hostile lands, places the Light barely touches, where we choke on its absence, all too aware that if we fall here, we may not rise again. We face enemies that know our power, and seek to negate it. Envious Eliksni who would capture our Ghosts to steal their secrets. Malignant Vex that would erase us from the fabric of reality. Hostile Hive who would pull us apart and drink our Light to fuel their cosmic genocide.

We went down into the Vault of Glass, where comrades had been erased from ever existing, to stop the Vex's experiments. We plumbed the depths of the Hellmouth, where untold thousands of our brethren had been slaughtered by a murderous prince. We stormed the halls of the Dreadnought, facing an eons-old terror on his own turf on his own terms. We struck into the bunkers of the Splicers, withstanding the wrath of a maddened machine-god.

We did these things because any of those threats would have meant the end of everything we defend. We sensed the fabric of time and space sharpen into blades against us in the Vault. We felt the weight of the Darkness itself in the Hellmouth's maze. We stood against the might of the dark king's champions on the Dreadnought. Our skin crawled as the machine-god's nanotech swarmed over it as we stood in the depths of his Chamber. We felt the teeth of malice chew at our Light, knowing that defeat meant worse than death.

Guardians have forgotten much. But the fear of death is never far away.

I command legions! Conquered worlds! Waged war across the galaxy to prove my worth! I alone am worthy of the Traveler's Light.

These things are all objectively true. Dominus of the Cabal Empire, you do command legions. You have conquered worlds, and smashed others apart when they continued to defy you. You have waged star-shaking campaigns of domination, all to prove your worth to a slumbering god.

The Traveler does not judge worth based on military might. Dominance and conquest are the antithesis of the way of the Light. The Light is a force of cooperation and fellowship. It promotes equality among all sentient beings. It brings life and creation, not death and destruction. In trying to annihilate us, Dominus, you are serving something other than the Traveler. Something much... Darker.

And surely, if this weren't all true to begin with, locking the Traveler away beneath a cage of energy and keeping it prisoner would be enough to convince the silent god that you aren't worthy of its blessing.

Cowering behind walls!

Once, mankind needed no walls. It was a peaceful time, our own internal wars long since quelled in the Light of the Golden Age. There were no enemies that needed fighting. We pressed out into the stars, to push the boundaries of knowledge and exploration. But then Darkness came. War returned to our worlds. We needed a place to put the line, whereby we would no longer be driven back. A place to defend and call Home.

Guardians don't hide behind walls. We strike out into the world, pushing back the Darkness. Taking back lands that had been shut to us, denied to us. We are mankind's explorers and defenders, but ours is now an active defense. We do not wait for the threats to come to us, we go find them and return to them the fear they once gave to us. We do not cower.

Undisciplined!

This, I cannot deny. We are a disparate bunch, the Guardians. Equally at home charging headlong into danger and then doing silly dances on the remains of our enemies. We eschew regimented leadership, preferring a more general ad hoc mentorship with the Vanguard. We are mercenaries, in a sense, striking out on quests for the promise of loot and reward. At most, we assemble into teams of six, but often we are loners, fighting by ourselves.

Given that the last time an organized army of Guardians was marshaled, they were nearly all slaughtered to a man by the Monster of Luna, one can hardly blame us for keeping things more informal. And given the scope of the threats we have thus far defeated, the last thing you want, Dominus, is for us to get organized and disciplined.

You are weak!

And here at last, the core of your declaration, the heart of your erroneous belief. You think us weak.

You, who covertly took out our sensor grid and attacked from the cover of a thunderstorm, instead of coming at us head-on.

You, who sent out lesser legions like the Sand Eaters and the Skyburners to claim our planets, rather than lead your troops from the front.

You think us weak?

We, who despite being driven to the edge of extinction, continue to fight for our survival in spite of the odds against us.

We, who have battled-- and killed-- gods.

We are not weak.

You have attacked our home. You have stolen the Light from us. You have destroyed the spoils of our victories.

We have fallen before. We will rise again.

And then we shall show you just how strong we are.

I gather my wits and climb back to my feet. Pain still blooms within me, the vacancy inside gnaws at me, but I resolutely straighten up and begin the laborious task of finding my way out of the besieged City. There will be time for introspection later. Now, people need to see that their Guardians still stand.