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originally posted in:The Black Garden
Edited by Aleroth Aloki: 7/15/2013 2:13:33 PM
268

Spread your wings. (Fan Fiction Contest)

Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for us writers to take center stage for a time. The Black Garden as well as our friends over in Arts and Stuff are going to host a contest that is solely devoted to writers. The rules are simple. For any who wish to enter, you are tasked with writing a short little anecdote that is to have a maximum of 300 words. The location for this piece of work is to be located in the picture provided above. The deadline for entering is this Sunday(14th) at midnight. For any who wish to enter, please submit your stories by placing them in the comments. Judging will be done in two phases. The first phase will consist of a Panel of both groups reading over each story and deciding which seven are the best of the best. Once the first stage is complete, we shall hand it over to you, the audience, to decide who is ranked number one as lore master. The Winner of this contest shall receive a print of the Buried City signed by the Destiny writing team. Good luck and Be Brave.

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  • Edited by Oorslavich: 7/19/2013 11:32:03 AM
    I'll just leave this here... Two figures strode along the sand encrusted road, parched foliage casting long shadows on the coarse red dust. They had searched the place all day, hoping to find something, anything of value. The pickings had been thin. Slow, steady thumps echoed around a corner, followed by puffs of dust borne by the wind. The two hunters franticly searched their surroundings for cover. The last flicker of dusty cape vanished into the second-story window, just as a trio of Cabal lumbered around the corner, scanning the street down the sights of their weapons. Two claps of thunder rang out, echoing through the dusty cityscape. One cabal fell down clutching its face, trying to stop the controlled environment from escaping its breached atmosphere mask. Another staggered, but the round had missed the vent and impacted harmlessly against the tough helmet. It turned its gaze upward, searching for the source of the attack. As its comrade lay gasping on the ground, the third Cabal sprayed fire in the general direction of the sniper rounds, while opening a radio channel to summon backup. The hunters ducked as a burst of poorly aimed shots ricocheted around them, “Two still alive, transmission detected. This place is about to get lively.” They worked the actions on their snipers and sighted for a second volley. A pair of sharp cracks broke through the sound of the wind, causing the third Cabal to roar and drop its weapon. The second was hit again, in the dent left by the last shot, it fell over backwards – unconscious. Even as they fired, they were slinging their rifles, jumping from the window and running across, slashing at the one that had dropped its weapon and finishing off the other. “Preferred it when it was quiet – nice and peaceful”. Grimly, they counted their ammunition in preparation for the coming storm...

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  • like it. Imagine this. Your squad's stealthing a Cabal camp for that contains a piece of technology that could really help the war effort. The Cabal already know you're there and are alert to any and all threats. It's night time and it is difficult to see targets. First, the marksman in your squad moves to a position away from your squad's designated point of engagement, the rest of the squad moves in position behind one of the Cabal. Then, you can call in an airstrike on a couple of vehicles and explosive equipment. T-minus 10 seconds. Eliminate the target in front and dispatch him quickly before anybody notices. T-minus 5 seconds. Give the signal for your overwatch to engage. His suppressed rounds pierce through two unsuspecting Cabals. Your squad moves in. T-minus 2 seconds. Sprint towards the objective. The Warlock in the group activates a short-range EMP so the door is unlocked and hostile targeting systems are offline. T-minus 0 seconds. The assault begins before a Cabal can cry a warning. Your friend from a above deploys missiles that demolish the vehicles and incinerate several Cabal. Your squad dives in and out of debris and smoke towards the objective while dodging incoming fire from all directions. The marksman kills the front guard while the Warlock activates a shield blocking enemy fire while you hack the door. You're in. The objective lays at the end of the hallway, but every inch of the way is covered by sentry turrets and Cabal who are not happy. You have limited time to make to the extraction point before your allies carpet bomb the place. Safety off. You're sprinting and shooting with your assault rifle while the Titan behind you unsheathes his sword to engage in close-quarters combat. The Warlock pulls out his dual pistols and moves to eliminate the sentries. As one Cabal after another drops, your blood races as the door in front of you starts to shut. You pour into the speed and slide under a melee strike and knife him in the groin. No time left. The Titan tosses a grenade that destroys the door controls, halting the closing door. With your friends busy, you slide under the door and into a brightly lit room. The door shuts. In the middle of the room, a small sphere shines in a strangely beautiful glow. Your heart feels lust and desire, but you shake off the feeling and listen to your mind. You slowly approach the sphere, carefully monitoring your surroundings. Your monitor says normal but your head says extraordinary. Carefully, you pluck the sphere from the pedestal. As you secure the device in your pack, it shines brilliantly then the cosmos inside collapses and shuts down. The feeling of lust subsides but you wonder why. The room shakes. That's not the Cabal. Suddenly, the roof explodes, knocking you off your feet. From the sky, a large, slender ship descends into the immense chamber. Your heart fills with dread as you recognize the symbol of the Fallen on the ship's side. Time to go.

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  • Edited by Birdman: 7/13/2013 6:07:26 AM
    It was only split second decisions that kept Colton from being blasted by Cabal gunfire and mortar shells. Dodging left to right in random patterns, Colton made it to the safety of a support pillar before his Titan-designated shield failed completely. Safe, for the moment. As the barrage of heavy ordinance took chunks out of the pillar, Colton's Ghost activated, aware of the bullets ricocheting off the pillar. "Well, you've done it again..." The Ghost, designated M3RL1N, began to say. "You probably want me to find a way out for you, again..." "Yes, Merlin! Your first path didn't exactly get us around the Cabal! Now we're almost surrounded, low on ammo, and my generators' busted!" "You don't have to yell..." Merlin sarcastically stated. "There is a way out, but you may not appreciate the direction." The ground began to rumble... "What?! Any direction is better than here in the next minute!" "Down..." was all the Ghost said. Colton noticed his armored boots standing partially on an old sewer drain. The drain itself was large enough for him to fall through, but did he have enough time to pry it open? The thunderous roar of the Cabal coming closer, he knew there was only one option. Colton closed his eyes, and drew upon his training. The hardships growing up, the sacrifices his friends made to protect the City, these memories held power, and with a raised fist, concentrated all his rage into the metal grating. The resulting shockwave blew apart the support pillar and dropped Colton into the sewers below, with the structure caving-in above him preventing the Cabal from pursuing him, for now. "Out of the frying pan and into-.." Merlin began to say. "A smelly, cold pipe..." Colton retorted as he continued forward into the Ghost-lit sewers.

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    • Edited by Juroku: 7/15/2013 4:20:41 PM
      [b]"We Win, Together" by Juroku[/b] [i]I roam[/i], through the dusty red haze. Through a forgotten, sand-scraped transit station. Through an ancient city, deserted, decrepit, disturbingly familiar. Through the Buried City; its real name died long ago with its people. Little more than ruins remain. Wandering, I hear: amidst the silence, thunderous thumps. Heavy feet crash to the ground. Between broken windows, I see: hulking brutes of steel. The Cabal. Between broken windows, they see: me. [i]I run[/i], hastily from their sight. They run, hastily behind. They trap me in their sight. Shots are fired, flashing by into hills of sand, into rubble. I shriek: a slug pierces my leg. Blood dyes the sand a deeper red. [i]I stumble[/i], holding onto hope. Holding onto thoughts of home. My leg gives way; I tumble in pain, my consciousness failing. The Cabal stand over me. They make no haste: a great bayonet is driven through the iron griffin upon my chest, my only reminder of what once was. [i]I die[/i], blood flowing, puddles soaking the sand. A Cabal raises its arms, cheering. A sudden shot spears its masked face. More follow. The rest withdraw. An unfamiliar face sees me: another Guardian, an Awoken. Her hands glide over me: I feel a soothing sensation in my limbs. In my corpse. Abruptly, I can breathe. I can move. [i]I live[/i], climbing to my feet, she dusts me off. I nod. She nods, but not at me. Behind me. I look: tens more of our kind stand ready, weapons levelled. I turn back and find the Cabal who killed me. It lies on the floor, bleeding out. I fire once: a coup de grâce. [i]I win[/i], I glance up: the Cabal charge. I raise my rifle, and we fire, all as one. In seconds, no Cabal remains standing. [i]We win[/i], together. [b]WORD COUNT: 300[/b] [i][P.S. Inspired by [/i]Destiny[i]'s emphasis on multiplayer and teamwork. The ending is supposed to resemble a Public Event, with large groups of Guardians coming together as one to defeat the overwhelming Cabal forces.][/i]

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      • 2 noobs believed that call of duty was a good game... They played it until they raged and they killed themselves... Treyarch was sued for the incident and call of duty was discontinued... Later bungie took over the world and everyone lives happily the end

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      • I have compiled some of the stories from the contest in this document. Someone said that we need lore, books, things we can reference in our stories, So i made a book of these stories. Feel free to reference this if you want, without further ado https://docs.google.com/document/d/1PQIlaa3TABV9QyfR5T2uxm_YEjnOLhIUES3f3bPqDOc/edit# (note: if your story is not in here dont panic, go to the end of the story for instruction on how to be in the book)

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        • Wait now I'm confused. Was the contest started again? Cause This post (at least for me) is in the announcements for the second time

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          • This is really well written! Your story totally drew me in! Great idea for a mission in the game.

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          • Edited by sagexsage: 7/13/2013 4:47:39 AM
            His death was an accident. As the hunter's hands became limp Sasha's rifle slipped from her grasp and sank into the shifting sands of the martian landscape. She stumbled in retreat from his body, collapsing onto the sea of red grains as the Cabal descended upon her. The days that followed overflowed with taunts and abuse by the Cabal. They relished in the capture of a guardian and made no attempt to suppress their glee. Dawn after dawn they would rise to scream and roar at the face of their enemy before untying the rope that held her hostage and parading her around the carcass of the once glorious city now buried in the dunes. At dusk they returned her to the rusty lamp post where she would be fettered for the Cabals' entertainment. Consumed by visions of her brother shuddering from the impact of the bullet in his throat the huntress had taken the humiliation in silence, echoes of the moment reverberating in her mind throughout her captivity. The Cabal had left her armor on her, a second torture as the sun rose and baked her within the metal. No more. Days of torment had broken her of guilt and sorrow. Leisurely her hand drifted to her elbow and quietly unbuckled the straps that held the armor to her forearm. Gathered at the center of their camp the Cabal didn't notice Sasha's actions. With ease the knife that had been hidden, attached to the underside of her gear, severed the rope that bound her and she disappeared into the shadows. Gracefully Sasha's blade soared into the throat of the Cabal leader, bloodying the sand. Without a leader the Cabal futilely searched for the apparition that haunted them. One by one their screams screeched across the cold desert expanse.

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            • Dang it, only just realized it has a 300 word count. And I missed the deadline by a million miles. That's what I get for not reading thoroughly...

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              • Dust I hear you walking, still. Is my shadow there, broken, whispering in the red sand? Memory and time twist and fade in heaps of broken images. There is a city in the desert. The ancient walls shake with sound, something big moves the air above, footsteps fall in rapid percussion, a freight train hits me and I am suddenly elsewhere, weak and scraped thin. I lay in silence, calm within a hurricane’s pillar where machines of war work their terrible purpose. The Fallen are with us, silhouetted by the sky in the wasteland of our creation. There, hushed light strobes upon a fiery muzzle. I begin to fade, you disappear into the dust, distant cries echo through neural pathways and a million deafening keys rattle into locks as I sleep in pieces. I have a dream where I'm falling, flying into the earth. There is a road, open, within a limitless canopy that curves away, down, down, down. A gentle push, sudden release; I slip out the bottom and go sailing. The ground recedes high above. Up is down. I spin and tumble. There is no end. Once more, however, time reaches out in whorled spirals behind us, twisting, fading, carrying memory and shame deep beneath where all is noise and arms outstretched, I am rising. Ashes to ashes to life everlasting; the Traveler calls us back from the deep abyss, for good or ill. My body aches. Joints and flesh and wires growing, twisting, becoming whole. Eliot had it wrong again. There is no fear in this handful of dust, nothing to fear under this red rock. Dead a thousand times, to follow the path is our destiny and our curse, for we are the Guardians. I awake to the sound of your voice.

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              • Edited by E Z RIDER 2001: 7/15/2013 2:38:50 PM
                It’s been seventeen days straight guarding this shitty door. A shitty door to a shitty room inside of a shitty building. It's supposed to be an outpost. A station to alert those who care to be alerted. With its drips and puddles, flickering lights that shine with the glow of death; it’s just enough light to show you that you're condemned to the dark but not enough to read by. It has more in common with a prison than you'd care to admit. Amazing what the sound of a drip can be likened to. A beat, or even a soul slipping away. Doesn’t bother me as much as it does the others though. The worst part is the smell. You wouldn’t think sand could have a smell, but it does. It reeks with the stench of wasted time. It smells exactly like you think it would. A forgotten place with a forgotten purpose. It fact, just this moment, I think I've forgotten the time. That would be a blessing, maybe it will run away. Ha! Maybe it will get angry and delete its Facebook page. With a quick glance at my wrist watch, I know what time it is. Time to guard this shitty door. But hey, someone somewhere is safe.

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                • Edited by Commander Tempu: 7/16/2013 9:52:45 PM
                  I do not want any award i should have made this post before but i will do it for fun. Remind me of my days in The Writers Corner.-Commander. [i]Survivors of the new age[/i] Wind kicks up the dust in small dust clouds that swirl around in the afternoon light. The empty fortress moans like banshees of legend as winds whip around the buildings . The bones of an era long before of rusted out junk creaks in the wind as a loose door bangs across the empty buildings that lay rusting in the sun. A dot far off in the sky turns into a ship that gets closer. Not every thing was totally dead here as it had two living resident's. The dog ran out to see what the big object was. It is a short haired golden retriever with a scarf tied around its neck. The caretaker of the dog was a young boy who fallowed along. The boy was wearing rags yet looked up with wonder at the ship. He shielded his eyes from the high winds as the ship lowered to the surface. Dropped three egg like pods the ship moved on. The eggs hatched before the boys eyes. three strange armored beings before him. Never had he seen such figures in his life. Each wore different colors. The leader wearing silver like armor who looked around."Keep those eyes peeled." The boy hid under junk when he was scared. He was scared but felt in awe of them. Sand started to move as figures emerged." Contact." Said the female voice dressed in black wearing a red cloak. Sand revealed Vex jumped out as sand poured off the metal body's, they all attacked the three who fired strange weapons with strange powers at the trio of armored beings. When the Vex were dealt with the boy stepped out as weapons were trained on him." Its a boy ?!" The third said as his dog peeked around the corner of junk."Lets get him then get out of here. Must have been what those faint life signs were." Both survivors fallowed the Guardians to the pick up point. Survivors to the end leaving the bones of the dead behind.

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                  • Edited by Commander Tempu: 7/16/2013 6:23:07 AM
                    Heck i am doing this for fun i will accept(Good Writer idea guy just bad speller) if i win but doubtful as many good entry's are here. I would like to expand my story. Like how did the boy and dog end up here ? What happened before the guardians came ? What happens on the journey back to the ship after defeating the Vex ?What were the Vex doing at the Black Gardens any ways ? Is this not Cabal territory ? All good questions i have my self. Once this is over i will expand the story. Any input ?

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                  • So I already entered a submission. I liked it, so I'm not trying to replace it with this one or anything. This isn't a submission to the contest, but rather a small thing I wrote up because I was bored and felt like writing. So, read it, tell me what you think. Hopefully you'll like it. The Buried City. A forgotten metropolis, once one of the shining jewels of the Red Planet. But that was before the Great Catastrophe. While many escaped the death trap that city became, many more died, and their bones can still be found under the dunes. For years the city was abandoned, only to be taken by foreign invaders: The Cabal. Violent nomads with no respect for the people that once called this place home. They patrol the city, looking for added riches and intruders. The Buried City is dead. And its secrets, under the Cabal’s eye, won’t see the light of day. But not for long. The Guardians of the City have flung themselves into the stars, intent on reclaiming humanity’s lost bastions. Outfitted with the best technology and training the City has to offer, humanity’s best and brightest are now no longer on the defensive. They have stopped hiding, they have stepped out from under the Traveler’s shadow. And they are ready to take back what’s theirs. One of their first targets: The Buried City. Treasure hunters and fame seekers from across the City take off in their ships and streak across space to Earth’s nearest neighbor. It’s been a long time since Man’s touched down on the Martian surface. But though we once owned this place, a lot of time has passed since then. Mars belonged to the Cabal now. And they weren’t giving it up without a fight. The Buried City was one of the last places on Mars where the Cabal ruled without question. But due to exploration efforts by brave Guardians, their secret was out. The forgotten city was forgotten no longer. And now Humanity, who had been evicted from their glittering spires so long ago, had come back to take what was rightfully theirs. And at the front of the spearhead were the the brave souls known as the Guardians. The Cabal know they can’t keep Man out for long. This was Man’s home, this was a place he built with his bare hands. And it was his destiny to take it back.

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                    • So when can we expect to see the finalist posted?

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                    • Edited by Badrocklover: 7/14/2013 10:48:43 PM
                      The crash woke me from a nice nap. "It's a Fallen drop ship," Joyeuse told me as I slipped my helmet on. "It's shooting at something." "Not us, right?" "I don't think so. Go have a look." I had been exploring a dilapidated city in the Martian Desert and the rest of my fire-team hadn't shown up yet so I had decided to camp out. I snuck out of the building I had been sleeping in, trying to keep as low a profile as possible. I could see the lights, hear the crashing of plasma fire on the other side of a dune that had swallowed what had once been a convenience store. I made my way to the high-rise to the dune's right to get a better vantage point on the battle. A group of Fallen was harassing a fire-team of Guardians who had probably come to this city for the same reason I had. "That's not Roland and Dane, is it?" I asked to make sure. "No, that's another fire-team. Belong to the Future War Cult by the look of it." "Good." If I was lucky, the Guardians and Fallen would neutralize each other. I didn't need anyone taking [i]our[/i] treasure, but the Tower didn't need to lose more Guardians. But before I could do anything the Fallen had won, with the chief mounting the heads of the Guardians on a few spears. There were only a few left. I could hear the chief grunting and clicking, the noise being translated by Joyeuse: "Look at me and despair, for I have laid waste..." If he kept screaming some Cabal were bound to show up. "I am the king of kings! I am--" his head exploded as my rifle began to leak smoke. "Ozymandias" I finished. This would have been better if I had more than 300 words to work with.

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                      • 11
                        I'm DeeJ BNG and I approve of this contest. The prize will be a print of the Buried City, signed by the Bungie Writing Team.

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                        • When will we know who won?

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                          • When will we receive an answer as to who the winner is?

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                            • Edited by stormbreaker: 7/16/2013 4:56:47 AM
                              Red sands churn and swirl as a solitary Hunter approaches his destination. He’s been trudging through the dunes, avoiding the gargantuan Cabal where he can and fighting when he must. His destination? A forgotten, ruined building that was once called the Joyeuse Center for Advancement, one of the greatest research centers on Mars. Although there has been a few probing attempts to find anything of value, no one has explored the lower underground levels. And if the Hunter’s assumption was correct, then ancient, forgotten technology was within reach. And with that came riches and a place among the most famous of Guardians. As he reaches the crest of the next dune, he sees it. His target. But there was something else. He wasn’t alone, as a squad of three other Guardians had already made it to the entrance, and they had attracted a small squad of Cabal. This wouldn’t be a problem except that these were obviously powerful Cabal, boasting large shields and quite a bit of firepower. Dammit. He had been hoping to make the journey alone, add to the bravery of the exploit. But extra company wouldn’t hurt. He lines up his rifle sight. Two Titans and a Warlock, not bad for an excursion. Bet they’re not too equipped for ranged fighting though. He hefts his sniper rifle. It’s one of his favorites, he found it on a dungeon run with a few of his friends. He loved the name too: “Gungnir”, the mythical spear of Odin that never misses its target. Well, let’s see if it can live up to that name. He looks through the sight. Six Cabal, all of their backs turned. His crosshairs settle on the leader. His finger tightens on the trigger. A smile crosses over the Hunter’s face. “I love this job.”

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                            • Edited by Ghost Shadow141: 7/15/2013 6:57:48 AM
                              I'm too late to enter the contest, but I wanted to post something regardless. Words: 277 The wind blows slowly, languidly through the desolate city, a derelict icon of a bygone era, its glory shined through and rusted away. The sand shifts, and if one would listen the faintest cry would be heard, the cry of the fallen, their deathly echoes captured in their tombs, from the very rocks and walls they had once called home. And if one would watch for long enough, a shimmer might be seen, a glint of that shining golden age, a land that had once been great. And through this vision one might glimpse a horrid, dreaded, ghost which coupled with their damned voices would feel all too real as to fool the eyes and mind. As to witness the fall of mankind Take head, for this desert had once given, but the years have turned its kindness to dust, till all that remained was loss. Harden your heart, for you enter the city of the lost, Harkin now any prayer that brings you comfort, for you tread upon the ground of the hollowed. Watch your step for the sands of mars run deep and red, built up with grounded bone, and stained with rivers of blood. Load your weapon, so that you might protect yourself. For there be no safe haven in this Palace of the Sands Load your weapon, so that you might protect humanity So that the fate that befell the past, might be spared the future Load your weapon, so that you might meet your destiny. Be ready, Be Brave. Soldier of the City, Messenger of the traveler, Deliverer of Destiny For the fight is not yet won.

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                            • Edited by MrNightKing: 7/15/2013 8:54:10 AM
                              None of them could here anything. But he could feel their presence. The Cabals. They were close, too close. He and his fellow guardians were forced to flee if the Cabals discovered their research. ”Do you feel something?” Mac, the Titan in their team, asked. ”Yes, i do. The Cabals are close. If you ask me, they are too close for us to safely continue.” Mac became silent. He was trying to hear something. ”Shall we go?” This time, William, the Hunter in their team, asked. ”Yes.” ”But, Zane! We need to find something!” ”No, we need to go!” Zane was the Warlock in the team. He could feel the Cabals presence Mac took a breath and was about to say something, but then he look up behind Zane. Zane saw Mac take his gun out, and ducked right as the bullet missed his head. He looked behind him. The bullet had hit the Cabal’s shield. ”Run!” Mac had already started to fire at the Cabal but it was meaningless, because the bullets only hit the shield. William took out a grenade, rolled it under the shield, and started to run to their ship. Zane heard the explosion and the scream from the Cabal. He looked over his shoulder and saw Mac running faster then he has ever seen him run. Even with his heavy armor, he out-run both Zane and William. They came to the ship and hopped in. It was William’s ship they used, so he was the pilot. Zane looked out of the window and saw the Earth and the Traveler. The mission was dangerous, they did know that. But the research of humans history could be their savor. Save humanity. That is what they do, the Guardians. That is their life. That is their destiny.

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                              • [b]Decay[/b] Blood, rust, bone, steel and iron. That which comes from the dead things. Dead earth, dead men and now I. Blood and rust and bone and steel. This graveyard, a grave of minds. All here will fade too, with time. She died on the balustrade. Arrays of broken panels. Her perfect sniper’s crow’s nest. She could hold an army back. One army but could not two. Rows upon rows of soldiers. Falling with the metronome. But the flow reached the stairwell. Boots and claws piled on the steps. Echoing in the darkness. Their shots rattled off the walls. Plasma burned our defences. Here cometh the knife, glinting. Sharp blade piercing shields and skin. She stumbles, rust billowing. A cloud of red to obscure. And makes the Fallen fall back. She’s up and the blade stabs down. Another win, a near miss. And it doesn’t last, it can’t. Red dust, red rust and red blood. All has deserted her now. Where she fell I cannot leave. I circle the bones by day. And hide from the chill at night. Flesh melts from bones and armour. One day a bird, gone by night. It lays a feather on her. Upon her hand, on her gun. She believed in high constructs. Relive the conversation. My memory banks now fail. High constructs with feathered wings. Take her where I can’t follow. I can’t follow so I stay. When the sun is high I live. And each day my life is less. In this bed of death and bone. The sun feeds paltry morsels. I long to feast on power. Perhaps I’ll be found after. Her last great quest saved in me. The data I protected. Kept safe as systems fail me. In the garden of red dust. I will rest in the red rust.

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                                • Edited by codeAppleJacks: 7/15/2013 5:24:14 AM
                                  [b]Martian Crypt[/b] The Buried City. Former Capitol of Mars, hub of commerce. The terraforming, gone: trees and vegetation, wasted away without their human curators, atmosphere as toxic as before the Golden Age. A sandstorm howls above as a trio of guardians cautiously investigates the ruins of the old city center. “Bunker… Sealed from the outside...” the Hunter murmurs. The Titan -Exo, standing a full head over its compatriots- presses against the enormous shield blocking the door. Creak, creak, moaaaaan. “Another graveyard, then” the Warlock supplies. The shield gives way, then the door. The Warlock’s ghost flits forward to restore power to the cavernous room, revealing a massive tomb. Hundreds of skeletons litter the ground, piled atop each other, some ground into dust. Scorch marks and ancient bloodstains mar the walls. “These people didn’t starve.” “No,” the Hunter says approaching a blinking console. “They didn’t.” She accesses the most recent file. [i]My name is Clement, lead researcher of technology at the Institute: I am the last. We detected their ships only moments before they were upon us. Giant beasts, merciless. My wife. They... oh gods! They destroyed her! Survivors retreated to the city storm shelter, hoping to wait out salvation, but the aggressors found us instead. I feigned dead; thought they bought it. But no. They left me alive, alone. The last. My city burns, dead! I can’t get out. I starve. I rot. The air is rancid. Days have passed in misery, in darkness. What’s become of Mars? What of Earth? 3% power remaining. The light strains my eyes. If you find this, go to the Institute. There are powerful secrets buried deep I haven’t the time to detail. That must be why they attacked. It must be! Remember us.[/i] Silence. To honor the perished. Then, “Ready up. We’re reclaiming that Institute.”

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                                • Edited by TheGhostAssassin: 7/14/2013 1:04:09 AM
                                  Instinctive: A Destiny Short Story The Fallen show an astonishing level of organization and adaptability, especially for a race that has been broken apart as badly as they have. If Humanity has anything in common with them, it’s those two things. Everyday, the moment the sun rises, casting its ethereal splendor onto the husks of buildings abandoned from the days of Humanity’s golden age to the sand, a small group of Fallen exits the building they occupy, to patrol the area, hunting for prey that wanders too close. Prey being guardians, and this group has made a high enough body count that action is being taken against them. The best way to cause disorder is to cut off the snake’s head, and this snake has a head not to be taken lightly. A Fallen Captain, old, strong, and merciless, many guardians have become a victim of his. Everyday he leaves the relative safety of the occupied building to lead his patrol on a thorough search of the surrounding area. I know all this because I have been laying in wait on the balcony of an apartment across from the entrance for 7 days, peering through my scope, learning and waiting. The sun crests the hill behind me, and the Fallen leave their fortified position just as a sandstorm begins to creep into the area. Within a few minutes the group is completely blinded, and the captain becomes separated from the main group. This is a chance I have been waiting for, I stand up, fixing my scope onto the Captain as the cloud of sand breaks, and the Captain looks up. We look into each other's eyes. I am a hunter of The Last City, and I can see that my quarry knows the instinctive fear that comes from being prey.

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