Till It's Over (A Destiny 2 Story)

Life Is Good

Life is good on the open road
We're closer now than we'll ever know
The light inside you comes and goes
But it never really goes out

Life is Good on the Open Road – Trampled by Turtles

-

?

Awareness came in small parts. Breathing. A tongue stuck to the roof of a mouth. Slight dizziness.

At first, all Azra could do was catalogue what wasn't- she wasn't dead, she wasn't grievously injured, she wasn't buried under rubble.

She wasn't uncomfortable. She was lying on her back, not too cold or too hot, muscles relaxed in the warm glow of sleep. Something soft pillowed her head. Her hands were folded across her stomach, Spark nestled between them. He was just as confused as she was. Together, they recalled- the teleporter, the Step, Ghaul, killing Ghaul, that monstrosity his death had created, the Traveler, the dream-

And nothing more. They'd been caught in the wake of the Traveler's broken cage. They were unconscious, it seemed. Now they were waking up.

They expanded their senses outward. In the distance, there was gunfire and engines, but that was miles away. Closer, there were hushed voices. Laughter. The air still smelled of the gunpowder and burning plastic, but on top of that, there was sweet-smelling woodsmoke and food cooking. Too much light shone through her eyelids; it wasn't night anymore. And in her Lightsense-

That made Azra open her eyes and push herself upright. She was in disbelief- but no, over there a Warlock tangled strings of Void between his fingers playfully. There a Hunter leapt once, twice, pushing themselves off of thin air to reach a third-story balcony.

A small plaza. She was in a small plaza, one cleared of rubble, surrounded by Guardians and the Light was back. The air sang with it. The earth thrummed with it. The universe was alive again.

Someone had noticed her sitting up. "Oh, whoa, she's awake!"

That set off a small bit of pandemonium. People turned and stared. Chatter broke out. A Titan hurriedly barked orders into a comms relay. A Hunter threw herself onto a Sparrow and raced off northwards.

The frantic motions convinced Azra to stand. There could be danger nearby. She didn't know what was happening, but others were rushing about with urgency. She was not taking death sitting down. She managed to stagger to her feet. Nothing was broken, but she was horribly sore. She was bone-tired, for all she'd been asleep a few minutes ago.

An unfamiliar Warlock grabbed her under her elbow. "Sit," she commanded, not unkindly. There was concern in her dark eyes.

"Hell no," Azra said. They were in a warzone, fighting an existential threat. She was not going to lie down and take another nap. "What happened? What's the date?" Vertigo dogged at her but she fought it off. She was ready to fight. She had to be.

The Warlock took a step sideways, blocking her way forward. "We pulled you and your Ghost out of the wreck of Ghaul's capitol ship. It's a miracle you're even alive. Sit, or you'll fall."

"I can stand," Azra protested. To prove her point, she jerked her elbow away (less steady than she would have hoped) and began to stretch. Spark hit her with a scan and reported with surprise that she was, in fact, almost completely unharmed. A few minor abrasions, muscle fatigue, a bit of dehydration. A burst of healing Light fixed the dizziness and most of the aches.

The Warlock wasn't buying it. "I appreciate that you want to help, but seriously. You've been in a coma. Your Ghost was inactive. We're not in mortal danger so can you please sit down so I don't have to explain to the Hunter Vanguard how you fell and cracked open your skull."