Greetings, Guardians, and here's part sixteen of Doom of the Dragons! Here's [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/239965018?sort=0&page=0]part fifteen [/url]if you missed it! As usual, if you like it, give it a bump, and I'll get more out soon! Stay classy, Guardians! After the Guardians made their charge, the Fallen dispersed pretty swiftly, fleeing into the surrounding forests and mountains. However, the Guardians didn’t give up there. Saint-14 led a series of sorties, killing off most of the survivors. When all the bodies were counted, almost 1500 dregs, vandals, Captains, and Servitors were dead on the battlefield. The Guardians themselves hadn’t suffered any permeant casualties, though around twenty members of the City militia had been killed in the assault, along with several civilians. But afterwards, life went on as usual at the City. The wall was rebuilt, and the Guardians went on missions outside - Cupun included. However, Marcella noticed a distinct change within him. Before, Cupun had been carefree. He was always the first to crack a joke, first to suggest going to grab a drink, first to suggest some sort of bizarre competition that would live Kim frazzled. Now, Cupun rarely spoke, and a smile seldom graced his lips. Missions were reduced to go out, shoot whoever needed shooting, and come back to the Tower. He was angered at the slightest insult, and he’d become far more confrontational than he had before. Once, he even knocked a hunter out cold for suggesting that his armor could do with a new paint-job. Cupun was becoming someone different. Someone angrier. Someone darker. Someone she wasn’t sure she liked. Marcella felt more than knew that this change in demeanor was due to more than Lyra’s death. Something fundamental had changed within him. It wasn’t like something had snapped - more like something dark had crawled inside his chest and taken up residence. And she couldn’t be sure, but she felt it had something to do with his custom-made pulse rifle. She noticed that he cleaned it almost religiously. And he used it almost exclusively on every mission. Sometimes, she would even catch him muttering to it, turning it over in his hands. Then, he would catch her staring, and quickly put the rifle aside. Then, he would stare at her with a smoldering gaze. And behind that gaze was a rage that had an almost inhuman quality to it. Several weeks after the mission, the three Guardians were preforming a scouting mission in the EDZ. They were in an old rock quarry, with gravel fields stretching out before them. “So,” Kim said, “what was it Andal found out here?” “Something about an energy flux a few miles out,” Marcella said. “Could be Fallen. Could be something else.” She shrugged. “Who really knows?” She looked over at Cupun, who continued looking stoically ahead. “Whatever it is,” Kim said, “I hope it doesn’t -“ Suddenly, there was a loud crack, a small rock by Kim’s feet exploded. “Take cover!” Cupun shouted. The Guardians ran, and took cover behind a giant lump of granite. As they did so, another crack rang out, and a small chunk of the rock went flying off. “What was that?” Kim asked. Marcella peaked over the top of the rocks. She saw their attacker - a lone figure perched in a tree - and ducked down just as the next shot rang out. “Sniper,” she said. “Probably using an old bolt action rifle.” Another chunk of rock exploded, and Marcella winced. “And a damn powerful one too.” “Well, at least they’re not that good with it,” Kim said, grimacing. “Small favors,” Marcella grunted. She took a deep breath. If they’re using a human rifle, at least that means they’re human. “Stop shooting!” she shouted. “We just wanna talk!” She slowly stood up, only to immediately swoop back down as the sniper fired off another gunshot. Suddenly, Marcella heard a voice ring out. “You’ve got ten seconds to clear out!” it said. “Or the next one hits your head!” “Suppose that concludes negotiations,” Kim said. Marcella bit her lip. There was always the chance that this lone sniper was a bandit who preyed on the weak. But on the other hand, it could also be that the sniper was some poor guy who was scared about the three heavily armed warriors advancing on his position. Suddenly, Marcella noticed something. She looked around. “Where’s Cupun?” The titan had disappeared. Suddenly, there was another crack. Marcella peaked over the rock again, and her heart sank. “Oh no.” Cupun was running across open ground, straight for the sniper’s perch. The sniper fired off one last shot, and then jumped down from the tree. “Cupun, stop!” she shouted. She jumped over the rock, and started running after the titan. The sniper - who appeared to be wearing some kind of dirty, gray cloak - grabbed something underneath the tree. Marcella realized that it was an old motorcycle. The sniper slung his weapon over his shoulder, and hopped on the motorcycle. He revved the engine, and the ancient machine purred to life. He then sped off across the gravel beds. But Cupun didn’t stop. He dropped his pulse rifle, and pulled out a grenade launcher. He took a knee, aimed. . . And fired. The grenade exploded just in front of the cycle, sending it and its rider into the air. Marcella heard the man shriek. Both cycle and rider reached the ground a second later. Cupun ran up to the sniper, and planted his boot on the mans’ chest, and pointed his pulse rifle at the his head. The sniper put his hands up above his head. “Cupun! Stop!” Marcella shouted. She ran up to him, and cursed. The sniper had pale, grimy skin. His clothes were a series of gray rags, and he wore a dirty cape that had once been white over his head. He had piercing, terrified blue eyes. But what struck Marcella most was that he couldn’t have been older than sixteen. “Damnit Cupun!” she shouted. “He’s just a kid!” The titan didn’t move for a long moment. Then, he removed his foot from the kids’ chest. He shouldered his rifle, and walked away. “Cupun -“ Lyra began to walk after him, but Kim put a hand on her shoulder. “Let him go,” Kim said. “It’s no use talking to him now.” Marcella licked her lips, but relented. She looked back down at the young sniper. “Wha - what are you?” the boy stammered. Marcella sighed. She knelt down next to him. The boy crawled away, but stopped as Marcella took off her helmet. She stared at the boy. “I’m a Guardian,” she said. “And I’m here to help you.” [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Groups/Post?groupId=1371758&postId=240544308&sort=0&page=0]Part Seventeen: Ambush[/url]