Some of the people in the City think we Guardians have it easy. They see us, and they see indomitable warriors, just shy of Gods or the Traveler itself. They see heroes of war; undying soldiers with powers of Light and the courage to face the worst the galaxy has to offer. They see the greatest of the Humans, Exos and Awoken. The fortunate few chosen by a Ghost from the Traveler itself to carry on with the defense of Humanity in the name of It that no longer can. In the name of the one that sacrificed everything, to give us something more valuable than any technology: hope. They can't see the reality. The reality of holding a dying brother or sister in your hands, who can't just come back because their Ghost was shattered into a million pieces by a frenzied Minotaur. Ghosts don't come back. Once they're gone, there is nobody to resurrect [i]them[/i]. So when one of our own loses their Ghost, and then fall themselves, they're just...gone. The people of the City don't have to witness the Light of a trusted friend, who has stood by you through countless scraps and had your back every step of the way, just fade away. The shine that was once so vibrant in their eyes slip away into nothing and become the dull sockets that you sadly have come to know all to well. The people can't see the struggle of lost memory, of who we were before we died; they don't even know the struggle of knowing that you are a walking corpse, something against the very laws of nature, an abomination to the cycle of life. They don't understand that everything that you were before is gone, whatever legacy or actions you did in your previous life mean nothing, because a Ghost saw that you had what it took to face the horrors the Darkness had waiting for us. Those people don't know what it feels like as a legion of Vex pop up out of nowhere when you set up camp for the night, intent on destroying you and those who accompany you on whatever suicide run you're on. They don't know what it takes to truly conquer your instinct to run and hide, and instead, defiantly push the feeling aside and stand directly in the way of a Cabal Phalanx formation as they storm towards you. They don't know the terrors of the dark hollows of the Moon, where even the light shined by your Ghost is drowned out as Thrall maul and tear at you, intent on devouring every part of you simply because it gives them joy to do so. They don't know what it's like to see a Kell hoist you up and stare you down before they thrust their swords deep inside of you, bringing you close and laughing as you die, your final memory being that of shattering pain, and the companions with you scrambling to keep the monster off your Ghost long enough to bring you back. There is no reward for what we endure, and there is seemingly no end in sight. We don't get to relax and take a load off because our enemies will never relent and never tire. Our lives are lives of bloodshed and warfare, misery, loss and muck and grime. We feel every bullet, plasma round, explosion and cut. We feel loss. We feel true fear. We feel sorrow and rage. Even when our Ghosts put us back together to continue the fight, we remember all of it, and still push onward into more. But what the people also don't know, is that we endure it all because we [i]choose[/i] to. When we are chosen by our Ghosts, we could walk away and ignore the Tower and those it defends, going rogue like some have, but we don't. We face down the truest terrors the Darkness has to offer not just because we choose to, but because most of what's left of humanity [i]can't[/i]. We stand defiant because they cannot. We endure death after death because we can, and they cannot. We do it for the love of our races, not just for the Traveler or the Speaker, but because somewhere in the God-awful mess of this galaxy, we have a right to go on. We put ourselves in harm's way for our people's right to live. We fight so that the children of today can hopefully have a future tomorrow without suffering and loss, or the Darkness bearing down on them. They will never know how hard we have it – and I sincerely hope that not a single one of them ever has to. -Cayde-6