We trembled as the ground below shook, each small vibration thrumming with energy from the ship's unholy engines. I placed one foot in front of the other cautiously, setting each down like a silent hunter behind a wild deer. The walls glowed a sickening, violent green and pulsed with vile power around us. Silent, silent, we had to remain as we passed through the crackling halls.
"It's too quiet. For the amount of energy the Commander described..there ought to be something akin to the weaver and unraveler, at the very least." She spoke from my left, her gentle voice unshaken with fear, yet held the quickened tone of great concern. I nodded, compulsively eyeing the grey, washed out map above my eye's resting position. Nothing. Not even a false flicker of movement.
"Eh, could be just nothin'. A small amount of the King's power, clingin' to this ship." A lazy voice, male. Carefree almost, hiding the awareness and alert nature of the Gunslinger behind it.
"No," I locked my eyes on the doors ahead, adorned in sinister runes and spells. Dark magic of the deep. "Residual power is different. Clings to the surfaces, makes you sick from merely being around it. It's wild, untamed. It can lash out at you and you would never know. No, Commander Zavala made it sound...controlled...contained almost." Shaking my head, I stepped forward and pressed my hand to the door. I felt the seeping of energy itching at my fingertips and watched as small golden sparks danced between my hands and the grim door before me. Soft snarls and chants rang in my ears, speaking of dark times and dangerous power. Evil voices seducing my mind to the deep.
"Pull back and be wary. Something is different this time. This is taken power, akin to that of Maloks' tyranny." a soft, tense voice from the rear of our fireteam. One of apprehension. I glanced back and stared into the darkened helm of our youngest guardian, a Stormcaller from the depths of Europa's clouded oceans. I nodded and turned back, pressing my weight to the immense doors. They swung inward easily, emitting an unnaturally living groan, like that of the tortured thrall of the hives darkest rituals.
Quiet. The first warning we heard was nothing at all. Before us stretched the shining marble floor, black and veined with green hive magic, pools of inky goo spread across dips and cracks. The massive pillars of glass and stone rose from the floor, gilded with the sick pulsing pods of decaying bones and split open sacs of thrall birthing. I fought the disgust in my gut and walked forward, stepping into the massive command hall.
Saturn floated and turned lazily beyond the ships reach, debris of spacial battles clouding the view of the gentle coloration of the planet before us. Far off, I caught a glimpse of tattered, crimson cloth. I focused in, the tech within my helm humming gently as the image focused and was identified as "Remains of Oryx, Taken King; Daughter and Son of the Osmium Court, God of the Sword Logic and conqueror of the Deep, Sister and Brother to the Knight Unyielding and Priestess Undying". The name alone made me scoff. Think you over labelled that monster, Athena? I thought to my ghost. I heard a soft chitter of amusement from her in response. "Wasn't me, Es. Blame Nika and Tyrian." I snorted and glanced back at the cyan robed Voidwalker behind us, an Awoken soldier turned Warlock. Only then did I take note of the energy stifling our movements, almost suffocating.
"The hell is going on here. That power is way too strong, is there any way Oryx could still be uh, yaknow..at large?" the voice that now sounded was a male's rasp, thick with a cold and smoky accent. "Negative Husky, Oryx is as dead as his son." the Strikers' ghost murmured aloud in response, his tone as baffled as I felt.
It makes no sense. The sword logic and so-called "taking powers" are controlled, and the threat ended with the King. What could be causing such a rift like this?
I threw up my arm, my fist clenched before slowly lowering it, using my opposite arm to swing the long, slim sniper rifle from off my back and gripped it tightly. I heard the soft clicks and rustling as the rest of the team pulled their own weapons forward as well, before stalking forward, keeping my stance lowered. That's when I saw it before us, and dread chilled my bones. "Blight. We've got Taken."
I thrust out my hand and set my ghost out, her gentle tan and gold shell sparkling as she materialized, keeping my eyes locked on the blight while she turned to scan the door mere meters behind us. "Sealed. Hive runes. And...yes. Not a tomb husk in sight, far as I can read. Only chance to escape is to set up comms and a transmat zone here within the throne room."
"Which we can't utilize..while taken power is jamming our signal." I replied with a shiver, realizing the trap we'd so blindly run into.
A high whine and tortured screaming wrenched the air as black energy convulsed through the air around us, making the hair on my neck stand on end, a sense of barely controlled terror striking right into my veins. I knew the fear was a condition of the taken phasing into this plane, and tried to push it down, forcing myself to fight instead of retreating.
"Nadyehzda, hit those pillars, now!" The soft spoken woman from earlier, a Defender named Stonewall, now yelled, her voice steady and fierce as she jolted forward and upwards, flying with surprising grace up to the center pillar on the right side of the room, high above the appearing Taken. Their screeches and hungry chittering bouncing off the marble and stone as the fireteam streaked up to join her. I glanced down as I glided up to the towering pyre and nearly lost concentration in sheer confusion. Black and eerie white gashes ripped through the room, but no taken were wandering the floor below. My breath hitched as I caught sight of the blight close to the bow of the Dreadnaught. The gravity-defying liquid pulsed and twisted on itself, long trails of the sick goop sliding to the floor. Where it touched, the dark stone ripped apart to show a slimy, gaping hole in reality itself. Raw taken energy, clawing into our dimension, shredding it's way into the remains of Oryx's dying throne world.
Then we heard the shriek, a desperate, chilling howl of terror and pain that rent the air all around us. I ripped my gaze from the oozing blight and stared back at my fireteam, each guardian in turn bristled and glancing around in bewilderment when the horrible voice formed a single word that filled me with dread I hadn't felt since the Awoken's destruction above Saturn and Oryx's initial arrival.
"R-run!"
~~~
∝╬══→ Author's Note: This is VERY old project from back in the Taken King days of Destiny 1 - I've long since stopped keeping up with the franchise so it's worth bearing in mind that this absolutely will divert from Destiny canon post D1 Age of Triumph. Sorry in advance!
This story also haaaaappens to be a muddy crossover, and I don't consider it to be part of my wider "Vera-verse" works. This means, mostly, that it'll be subject to change over time.
YOU ARE READING
Unto Oblivion
FanfictionNika Var isn't the only Guardian in our Clan who has a tale to tell of life before the Collapse. But I lived through the Collapse- and it isn't like anything they can guess.
