[Sanctuary, Ocean of Storms]
The sanctuary on the outer ridges of the Ocean of Storms had finally been finished. The city had used salvaged ship plates and scraps to make walls that blocked the wind, wire-bound fluorescent lamps at the tops of the canopies and erected sentry spots for their hunters. These watchtowers stood with their backs to base, scouting every inch of the Lunar expanse for movement.
In the centre of the sanctuary, voices lowered as Ikorra, Cayde, Zavala, and Tevis gathered, drawn to the same table of scarred wood where they had laid out old maps that had been weighted by knives and empty magazines. With the Hive's influence interfering with their network, many holographic terminals were of no use, and everyone had resorted to the old ways to track and navigate.
Tevis shifted, his eyes flicked to the edge of the Sanctuary, and he cleared his throat, making everyone's eyes shift towards a single spot.
There, in the distance, the shadows stirred at the perimeter. Void's figure flickered once, then he crossed the threshold without announcement, creeping towards the central tent.
"Welcome back," Ikorra spoke up as Void ducked into the tent.
Cayde set a palm on the table and inclined his head toward Pahanin. "You know, you've got quite the partner."
Tevis looked past the lamp-glare to where Kaviss stood, "I'd say the same."
Ikorra's gaze sharpened, a question already fully formed. "How did you convince a Devil Captain to stand with you?"
Void dusted his hands; he did not look at Kaviss when he answered. "I didn't. He chose to repay a favour."
Kaviss inclined his helm a fraction, nothing more, as if admitting to it silently.
The table held its silence for a heartbeat, and Zavala watched Void with keen eyes. "You went down there for a reason," he said and took a pause. "I believe you have come back with one."
"Yes." Void let the breath leave him. He raised his palm, and Obsidian appeared from it—black, the lamplight caught along his shell with a glaring reflection. "I brought something you should see."
The lamps flickered again, but this time, with a strange rhythm. Obsidian unfolded the memory that Void had seen, and the space above the table altered. Glyphs are organised by meaning before sound. The language of souls took a form their nerves could understand without breaking; it entered through the skin and settled behind the eyes like heat.
They saw a pit lined in ribs and filled with darkness. Around it, knights beat the ground in a rhythm. In the centre, a blade existed above the dark abyss; around it, the Swarm Princes knelt and poured their oaths into the dark until the dark took the shape that would carry them. Centuries passed in a single held breath, a ripple ran through the dark, and then the blade finally hummed.
Void let the vision run till the end, and finally spoke up. "This was how Crota's sword was made."
The projection shifted. Runes unspooled as lines of argument. The choir of princes that took the oaths reappeared, but now the chain was shown as links, each link named by voice and promise.
"The sword was bound to our world by its makers," Void said. "It is anchored by those who swore their oaths. Kill them—the ones who started it all and the ones who later lent it strength—and the tether fails."
No one moved. The camp fell deathly silent, and a chill gripped the air.
Ikorra's voice was low, "And after the tether fails?"
"Without the tether, the sword will not have any connection to our world." Void pursed his lips, his eyes shifting from one face to the other, "It will become undone."
Obsidian dimmed the memory and left behind a single, austere diagram: a chain with links marked by the shapes of oaths that each Swarm Prince had taken.
Cayde studied the image without speaking, as if the room had gone too close to the line for language to be safely casual. Pahanin stood just behind him, hands loose, attention fixed. Tevis just read the chains, like he was committing them to memory.
Zavala did not look away from Void. "You are certain of the condition?"
"As certain as the archive allowed us to be," Void said. He chose the next words with care and laid them down one by one. "This is all I know. And now, you know it too."
The silence fell again, but this time, the room stirred.
Ikorra's thoughts raced. She inquired, "The sequence you showed us—the choir that keeps the blade in the world, how strong are they?" Her eyes narrowed a degree. "How much time will it take to kill a prince?"
"Probably enough to make the work costly," Tevis said before Void could answer. His tone remained even. "Those didn't look like normal Hive. Probably as strong as they come."
Void nodded, "The princes aren't weak, but they're not infallible either. While the sword exists, their powers are bound to it. Find them where they hide, and kill them. Without them, Crota will not have a weapon to wield."
Ikorra's glance flicked to Void and back. "Was there anything else in the archives?"
"No." Void looked at her and shook his head, "This was it."
Cayde drew a slow breath. "Then the work is simple," he said. "Find these princes, and then..." His hands mimed a dagger slicing across the throat, "Well, you get the idea."
Zavala's jaw tightened, and he looked outside the shelter, gaze lingering at Hellmouth in the distance, "Are they inside?"
Void looked towards the same place, sharing his gaze."They are."
Slowly, everyone in the shelter did the same.
They stood around the scarred wood and measured themselves against what was now required. The lamps hummed, quiet and clean. Tevis broke the silence first, not with a conclusion, but with direction. "I will take a squad inside," he said. "Our tracking skills are the best. We can find them. Besides, I don't think any of you can hide yourself that well."
Ikorra looked again at the dimmed diagram on the table, then closed her hand over the thought of it. "When these princes are all killed, will he know?"
"He will, but for now, he can't do anything," Void replied slowly, "Trust me."
Zavala did not ask a word after that. He quieted down and placed his hand on Void's shoulders, letting those words brew in the silence. "Then we begin."
The meeting dissolved, and an instant later, orders were left in the runners' hands. Lamps steadied. The noise of work resumed, and the camp began to hustle. One by one, the people scattered towards their stations.
Pahanin lingered as the others stepped away. His voice stayed low. "You came back with something we can use."
Void nodded.
Pahanin's gaze held on him for a heartbeat longer, as if acknowledging a portion not spoken aloud. He did not press it. He simply moved towards the exit. "I'll prepare what we need. Come to me if you need anything."
Kaviss passed near, a fraction closer than courtesy required. "Void or Viper," he said, each syllable weighed. "You have many names."
"I do. Surprised?" Void answered with a faint smile.
"No. Either way, I shall pay what I owe." Kaviss shook his head, sauntering towards the perimeter of the sanctuary to stand guard. "Farewell."
Following him, Void stepped out into the open.
~You drew the line where it needed to be~ Zamyr murmured, quieter now. ~If they were to know of the sword's lingering power, they might not agree to destroy it.~
"I did what I could." Void replied with a whisper only he could hear, "For now, let's go with it till we find a way to figure it out. And find out where those princes are hiding. Tell me everything."
Zamyr chuckled, ~Of course, O brother mine~
Void trudged towards the edges of the ridge. He looked back towards the camp as it breathed, guardians racing across it to prepare for what came next. Then he looked at Hellmouth, his eyes turning a shade of azure while he scanned the movements of the Hive inside the veil. A few minutes later, there still hadn't been any changes, and Void finally blinked, heaving a sigh as he turned back to continue his work.
"Obsidian, compile all the data we found in the Archive. Make a local backup and send it to the Workshop's archives later. Make sure not to use the City's network." Void murmured, walking towards Pahanin's station.
Obsidian's eyes pulsed; he flittered beside Void, "I'll get it done."
==
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