"Where am I",someone said.He was born his life had begun.Strife and terror await him. This person went by the name Logan M. He grew and lived peacefully as anyone would, bound by simple emotions such as anger and sadness. He still had hope and he lived in the late Golden Age. Logan knew that the golden age wouldn't last forever. That was when this man, this person decided to go out and find the greater truth. "I'll do it",he said,"life will be better he chanted." Logan decided to go to the outskirts of the cosmodrome. Fallen were settling. Logan saw this as an opportunity, a chance. Soon he went out to go and fight them. The pain he felt, the shots he fired, the deaths he avoided, he loved it. Then his fellowship arrived one of these fellow fallen fighters was Ikora Rey. Even though, the praxic warlocks didn't exist yet she still acted like a warlock. Sure back then light wasn't a power but a something to lean back on." I've seen someone fight with such strategy, oh I must be like her,"thought Logan. He aspired to be like her, he so desired such tactical knowledge. The next fight he had with the fallen didn't go well. He walked into the scene armed with nothing but his fists. Logan wanted to impress Ikora, he wanted her to a part of him. "Prepare to feel Pain,"Logan yelled at the Fallen. The bullets flying he loved this, the movement, the action. Logan ran in to a group of vandals, with his fists ready. Before he could land a hit. He was stabbed in the stomach. The blood dripping down shown in crimson red, dying in light, he breathed his final breathes. Darkness, and he died. As guardian he was mocked for being a warlock even though he acted like a hunter. He didn't actually hunter, deep down he felt knowledge. Deep down he was a warlock! The end