Cool, I haven't tried fan fic before but here's something I whipped together. If people like it then I'll continue the story. Here's chapter one: [spoiler] *Crack!* The sound of the legendary golden gun piercing it’s target echoed through the surrounding mountains. The Guardian sighed as he holstered his weapon, staring at the remaining ashes of his adversary. He was getting tired of this. His attacker was a carrier of the light. They almost always are. He had fought so many of them that by now he was an expert at avoiding them. But still, he found himself in more encounters then he would like. “I guess that’s another failed attempt at claiming your bounty.” His ghost said, trying to make small talk. “It would seem  that way” He replied. He never delivered their final deaths. They thought what they were doing was right. He respected them for that. It’s all any Guardian can do. "Do you think the others are doing well?" His ghost asked. The Guardian didn't respond. He was one of the last of his creed. Most of the others had been hunted down. He didn’t want to think about what happened to them. What happened because of him. He would often think of what would have happened if he turned himself in. If it would've saved his allies, his friends. His ghost would’ve scolded him for thinking like that. But his ghost didn’t quite understand. His ghost had assured him that what happened wasn’t his fault, that he had no choice. But his ghost didn’t know the full story. Nobody did. Nobody except him. He could still remember it like it was yesterday. Confronting his friend on that cosmodrome wall. Only one Guardian left that wall, and the Vanguard figured what happened to the other. He’s been on the run ever since. He’s battled with Guardians from almost every faction you could think of. And he still wasn’t finished fighting. He didn’t want to bring the others into this. This problem was his. He should’ve been the one captured, not them. “Come on,” his ghost said “we should get going while he’s still dead.” He turned around to continue onto his destination, if you could call it that. The Guardian didn’t know where he was going. He just had to go somewhere. He continued on for what felt like hours until he found a decent spot to settle for the night. He didn’t like travelling during the night. Not after the horrors he had seen. Guardians didn’t need sleep, but he found himself exhausted. He didn’t know if it was because he actually was tired, or if it was because he needed something to do, something to take his mind off of his guilt. But either way, the Guardian found himself closing his eyes, only for just a minute… “You are under arrest by the authority of the Praxic Order!” The Guardian woke with a start. It was already morning, and he found himself under the trained sight of a handcannon. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. “Couldn’t you have done this five minutes later?” He said with a yawn. The Praxic warlock threw down a set of handcuffs, unamused. “Put these on, you’re coming with me.” She said. “Listen,” he said “I’ve dealt with a lot of you warlocks.” The warlock remained unmoving. “So if you think I’m just going to give up and leave just because-” *Crack!* “That’s a new one.” His ghost said, as the Guardian's world faded to black. [/spoiler] Edit: put in spoiler so it doesnt take up a lot of space. Edit 2: rewrote the story a bit to give the protagonist a faction.