[i]"Titans. Ancient precursors of ancient gods. Sworn enemies of those considered immortal if not infallible. Titans. Our protectors. Soldiers of the highest order---something which transcends service with a claim beyond strength. The name is appropriate. They combat their enemies with a power which seems to alter reality. They [u]must[/u] be gods. Gods wrapped in armor forged from the havoc of battle itself. A shard of Ares, each of them. When they fight, the strength of the opponent no longer matters. The numbers of the battle, the devastation of the weaponry, it all means nothing at all. Some accuse the Warlocks as being inclined to fall to the Darkness. Power hungry. Invested in strange knowledge and artifacts. Meddlers with things beyond them. Some accuse the Hunters of greed. Too worried with displaying flashy achievements, collecting things they do not understand. Profit. Titans. Of what do we accuse the Titans? I can show you better than I can tell you. They create an equal plane of any adversity---simply so they have something plain and even to shatter. Their battle is no charity." ~ Ikora Rey[/i] **************************************************************************************** They ground them to dust. Their opponents, they were shattered. Reduced to nothing. This was in no metaphorical sense---I saw a single blow negate the existence of a Fallen Vandal. Sworn opponents, enemies, scavengers, murderers. Agents of the Darkness, machine worshiping insects deserving only the silence of death. This Vandal did not deserve the death she received. A round to the skull would have released her Ether all at once. An instant, merciful sendoff. Most times, their ether escapes when they fall. This Titan? He didn't allow it. I know what I saw. The soul of that Fallen was to be released when its body was destroyed. This Titan, this Defender of [b]us[/b] did not allow it. The Fallen were advancing. Reclaiming a portion of the Cosmodrome which was not theirs to begin with. I'd called for help, protecting a find and determined to complete my mission. A step closer to locating Rasputin. The mission was urgent. The Pikes had come from nowhere at all. The three Titans jumped from the cliff overhanging the valley. Conveniently, as though somehow timed; as though battle moved in their favor. As though it had no will of its own. This "Defender", this Titan who solidified what I already knew about what it was to be a Titan, decimated them. He was the last to descend, the other two smashing to ground with spasms of Arc already leaping from them. They ran off to engage, but this one, this one wanted the Pikes. I told you, I saw him catch the soul of this Vandal. Even a Fallen does not deserve what he did to it. He crashed to ground behind his Striker brethren, the Pikes swerved to mow them down. As the two Titans sprinted off, spraying hell on the Fallen on foot, this Defender charged the vehicles. Directly for them, flashes of their Arc repeaters clashing against his shields. There was no way, I thought, that he would make it. A selfless sacrifice, for my sake. I should have been running away, to insure that the information I'd collected reached the tower. But I didn't move. I couldn't move. The Light needed me to witness this. I saw him take her soul. I saw it. They were bearing down on the Titan, and he took to the air. Not a controlled lift to evade them, but a violent surge upward and forward. Just clearing the ground, just clearing the front of the leading Pike. The other Vandal pilots knew better than to flinch against a Guardian. They turned, they kept firing, figuring perhaps they would at least avenge their comrade. They could have. They should have. But war grants these Titans [i]immortality[/i]. Listen to me. Listen to what was done. I felt the first blow. It shook me, even at my distance. He'd grasped the upper pair of arms of the Vandal as he vaulted forward and over its windshield, still being showered by the others. He came down with both feet on the tail of the quick, hovering attack craft. It shuddered, the pilot struggled with the Titan and with control of the craft, it bottomed out briefly. Still holding its arms though, as it hissed and roared, he kicked it. He kicked it in the back with such force that it flew forward through its own windshield. He was still holding its arms. [i]He kept its arms.[/i] Discarding them with a forgetful toss as the Pike swerved off course, he vaulted from its tail to pursue the dismounted Vandal, he landed upon her legs and crushed them, he ignored swipes from its remaining arms, and with one colossal heave of a blow---a downward facing explosion of force---he punched it. Through its chest. Whatever chest cavity there was collapsed, the Vandal gave a horrid twitch, I [i]felt[/i] the thump of his fist on the ground. I felt his fist. Striking the Earth, having passed through something living as though it were nothing at all. The other Pikes had turned, they continued to fire. He was stationary. Surely he would be ripped apart with vengeance paling to that which he'd punished and killed the creature beneath him. But he wasn't cut down. The body was still active below him, in the worst way. Twitching, thrashing. I've no idea how long Fallen stay alive after that sort of trauma. I hope that this flailing was involuntary, that it had already passed. But I saw him take its [i]soul[/i]. The warping of Void began to overtake the body like some sick, violet plague. The glow spread across its form, in pockets and then bubbles, [i]disintegrating[/i] flesh and armor and tearing at ether. The Void channeled by that blow pulling at the very fabric of reality which allowed this being to exist, rewriting it for a new purpose. The Void light collapsed even as the creature was shredded, wrangled in, pulled to the Titan's armor. Pressing to it, glowing brighter, forming a [i]shield[/i] against harm. Do you understand? He tore that creature apart. Crushed it. Killed it. And then took what was left, what could have been left to rot or pass into some beyond, and he wrestled it out of its form and out of the peace of death to press to his armor with no identity at all. The other pikes continued to fire, but they could not pierce this new barrier. Then he was upon another. It was exploding when I finally forced myself to run. I heard another detonate. I don't know who that Titan was, who killed with such disregard. Such efficient hatred. I suspect that is all of them, on some level. Shards of a war god. War itself. Invalidating all that they touch, re-purposing it as an instrument of their necessary destruction. I don't want to meet him, ever. ...sometimes, I hope the last Pike cut him down. I know that it didn't. Even if it had, there would be more. Behind reflective visors, back swept helmets. They wait. They protect. They serve. They are war. We cannot be without them. I fear for us all if the obvious comes to be true. That in the end, they are invincible in war and bored by [i]peace[/i]. ************************************************************ "...oh, yeah. That was me. Heh. That was a good day." ~Ricochet [spoiler]Want more? Click [url=http://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/90330036]HERE![/url] for a new series [i]Battle for Old Philadelphia[/i]... or just search #Ricochet for lots of related and non related awesome.[/spoiler] [spoiler]EDIT 1: So, there have been requests for posts of other classes and subclasses. The answer is [i]maybe[/i]. In true Bungie style, I'm going to be really vague about whether I'll give you what you're asking for or not! Gotta keep to tradition, right? LOLOLOLOLOL ~Ricochet[/spoiler] [b]Want more Titan goodness? Click [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufJiMzJ9uBQ]HERE[/url] for an awesome trailer for [url=https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3240558/1/Destiny-Reclamation]THIS[/url] upcoming fanfic novel. Enjoy![/b] [u]Just a last update for the traffic coming through here---the novel linked above is nearing completion. Go give it a read![/u]