The Hunter Chronicles: The Tyrant's Wrath Pt. 1

Guardian Zayne-1's quest to recover the memories that have made her a target for centuries.

Entry 08-437

In darkness they came, the embers of a long dead fire offering barely more than a faint glow. They moved in silence as if they created a vacuum wherever they tread. There were four of them this time, all clad in black tactical armor. They were good but I… I was better, even if only for that one night. After 3 years, the hunters had become the hunted. A knife whirled through the air, piercing the silence with the intensity of an air raid siren. Metal clinked against metal. Circuitry sparked and short circuited. An Exo fell, clattering to the ground.

An excitement surged through me. An excitement born at the beginning of conflict. It was a feeling that I assumed matched that of adrenaline pumping through the veins of a Human. Of course, our creator did strive to make us a close to human as possible.

“She’s he-“ The roar of a hand cannon cutting off the words of another Exo. It fell backwards, tumbling to the floor as the muzzle flash from each successive shot briefly lit the room like an orange strobe. With a theatrical roll, I retrieved my knife from the Exo’s skull and returned it to its sheath. The door burst open revealing a figure fleeing into the moonlight. I chuckled as I grabbed my rifle and positioned myself in front of window. I tried to count how many times I’d been in that position over the last three years. “Tactical Retreats,” I called them. Really it was just survival instinct. Eventually “Fight or Flight” turns into just “Flight.”

One lone blast rang out into the night and with a flash of destroyed circuity, the last remaining Exo fell to the ground. Reflexively, I smoothly slid the rifle’s bolt back. The empty cartridge flew from the barrel as a fresh one took its place. I sat motionless, staring out at the darkness. Maybe it was just paranoia, but I was certain that there was another threat looming out there just beyond my vision. Clovis Bray, after all, didn’t give up easily. The last three years, if nothing else, had proven that.

After what seemed like hours, I relaxed. I allowed a sense of relief and victory to overtake me. I knew deep down that it couldn’t last.

Still, I reveled.

 

Zayne-1 leaned back in her chair, legs crossed at the knee, a hand resting on the grip of her sidearm. A rocks glass, half full of a strange green liquid sat on the table in front of her. A window across the sparsely decorated room illuminated the aged journal she held open in one hand. She was so absorbed in the leather-bound book that she scarcely noticed the picturesque scene outside that window, the ships whizzing past, the sprawling landscape of the remnants of humanity seeking refuge in the shadow of the shattered but awoken Traveler shining in the sky. To many this was home and hope and safety, but Zayne-1 was meant for wilder placers. Even the few creature comforts of her spartan room made her chafe.  

She tapped her gray metallic fingers on the table before closing the tattered leather journal, tossing it onto the table in front of her. The Guardian leaned forward, elbows on the table with her head in her hands. The faint sound of a crucible match came from a terminal nearby and she scoffed at the play-by-play commentary. Her Ghost whirred and beeped as it hovered next to her, echoing her annoyance. “Zayne,” it began carefully. The Exo’s holographic blue eyes looked up at her faithful companion from under her brow, sparking with Arc Light. “Yes, Victor?” Her voice was soft and light but carried a hum of electricity that often gave her words a menacing undertone. The Ghost bobbed in the air for a moment, its silver and blue shell spinning before he slowly dipped down in front of the Guardian. “Zayne, you’ve been reading this journal for almost four years now. How much more do you hope to learn from it?”

The Exo heaved a sigh and pushed herself up from the table. It was another in a long line of Human reactions that had been a part of her programming since the beginning. Her boots clicked against the ground as she made her way to the window. Why go through the trouble to make us so… Human? She thought as she stared out at the Last City. What’s the point in a war machine that also must operate under the burden of emotions and within the confines of a conscience? Zayne-1 was sure that her purpose did not include understanding the subtle nuances of her race’s creation. Much like humans, she mused. 

Victor knew that sigh all too well but still, he pressed the point. “Look at everything that has happened in the last four years, Zayne. The Black Garden, Crota, Skolas, The Taken War, SIVA and Aksis.  Should we discuss the Red War? All threats that you had a hand in defeating. All threats that were dealt with without this information you so desperately seek. The Traveler is awake at long last. We have our light back. Tell me, Zayne, what use is this information now?” Victor’s shell shifted uncomfortably as he glided to his Guardian’s side.

“The Tyrant,” Zayne said softly as she turned towards her friend, the mechanical features of her face expressing worry. “He’s out there, even now.” The Guardian turned back towards the window. “This isn’t about the threats of the past, Victor, but those yet to come. Threats we must be ready for.” Zayne-1 looked down at her hands. She was an instrument of war from a Golden Age long past, her true purpose lost to time. “They gave him control all those years ago. Too much control, Victor. And we gave it back to him when we powered up the array.”

 

Entry 07-324

I had that dream again. A lone tower on a black plane with everyone I’ve ever known standing between me and my destination. All at once, they surge forward, and I’m forced to fight my way to the tower. Sometimes I make it. Sometimes I’m crushed beneath the bootheels of the oncoming horde. All in all, it’s terrifying every time. I’ve heard some Exos claim that their dream is a peaceful walk to the tower. How I envy them…

 

The faint sound of water dripping echoed throughout the tunnels. The EDZ was littered with various cave systems throughout the region know as “Lost Sectors.” As a Hunter for the Vanguard, it was Zayne-1’s responsibility to scout the area, subdue any powerful foes, or report back to the Tower so that the appropriate level of force could be dispatched. The coms crackled in her ear. “So, uh, tried that ramen shop yet” Cayde-6, the Hunter Vanguard’s voice asked over the coms in a hushed tone. Zayne stopped, her sidearm lowering for a moment. She looked at Victor and the Ghost looked back her. “No,” she answered brusquely. Victor’s shell spun as he dipped forward. “I really have heard good thi-“ The Guardian shot her companion a withering look. Her mechanical eyes shining vibrantly in the darkness of the tunnel. “Never mind,” Victor said softly.

Something wasn’t right, Zayne-1 could feel it. The scouting reports indicated that this sector was overrun with Fallen but she’d yet to see even one Dreg. She holstered her sidearm, opting for the shotgun that had been hanging from her back. The confined tunnel would make it all too easy to get a killing blow on anything lurking in the shadows. Victor turned back towards his Guardian, his shell rapidly expanding and then contracting. “Zayne, look out!” A gunshot rang out, striking one of Victor’s spines, sending him spiraling into the tunnel wall. “No!” Zayne shouted as she turned to confront her attacker. She attempted to raise her shotgun, but a strong hand grabbed the barrel, forcing it to remain pointed towards the wall. In the darkness, she saw a pair of glowing red eyes, not unlike her own, staring back at her. This was an Exo, she recognized instantly. He was large and bulky. Hopefully, that also meant he was slow.

“You’re a hard woman to track down.” A deep, raspy voice croaked. “Well then, you haven’t been trying hard enough!” Zayne yelled, the electric buzz distorting her voice into a terrifying tone. She lashed out, driving a bootheel into her foe’s abdomen, pushing herself back and falling to the ground. She raised her shotgun just in time to see a figure move in from her left. She rolled to the side and fired, a spray of Ether exploding from the spot the Vandal’s head used to be.

The heavy metal wire slipped around Zayne-1’s neck and pulled her into the air with such force that she dropped her shotgun. She clawed at the wire that as it dug into the metal around her neck. “Calm yourself, Zayne-1,” said the deep voice. The Exo stepped closer. In the dim light, she could see that he was covered in white metal plating, seemingly thicker than normal. His armor bore a symbol she’d seen before, a blooming flower. In that moment, she could not place it. “I’m Taron-3,” he said with a slight flourish. “It’s time now that we put this to an end.” Taron retrieved the Guardian’s shotgun and pointed it at her chest.

 

Entry 09-001

I fear that this will be may last entry in this journal. The Tryant’s agents get closer with each passing day. It’s almost as if he can anticipate my every move. His cryptic classical music based messages await me at every terminal. Even now, I’m not sure how much time I have left. All that’s left to do now is run.

 

Zayne-1 looked down at the ruined head of Taron-3 as she dragged his lifeless frame from the tunnel. “Daito Corp.,” Victor said, calmly as he floated along behind her. Recognition washed over her, the blooming flower logo of Daito Corporation. Once out in the fading light of the day, Zayne-1 sat on the dead Exo’s chest with elbows on her knees. She waited as patiently as she was able as Victor scanned Taron-3. “My God!” Victor’s voiced was hushed and carried a note of fear. “I think he was built specifically to kill Guardians.” The Ghost’s shell shifted and spun as he bobbed around, frantically scanning the machine again. “Increased speed, increased strength, increased intelligence,” Victor came to a stop in front of Zayne-1. “Fat lot of good that did him.” The underlying electric hum in Zayne-1’s voice emphasized her annoyance. “Zayne, his orders were to kill us both. This Exo was a Guardian Killer,” Victor said, solemnly.

“I bet I can guess where his orders came from,” she said, standing and looking down at her defeated foe once more. “I think it’s time to take this information to the Vanguard. If Daito Corp is manufacturing

Exos with the specific intention of killing Guardians then we must stop them,” said her Ghost. Zayne-1 nodded in agreement. “Ready the ship,” she said, pulling her knife from its sheath and carefully cut the Daito Corporation from the frame of Taron-3. “We’ll need this,” she added, holding the jagged piece of metal. Victor beeped in agreement as their ship flew overhead and they transmatted inside. “Set a course for the tower, Victor. I don’t want to waste any time.” The Ghost whirred and beeped as it processed the request. “Uh, Zayne…” Zayne-1 looked down at the read and her eyes widened. “Are we…” “Being targeted?” Victor completed the question, panic in his voice. “Yes!” He answered as he swung the ship around, taking evasive action. “What it is, Victor?” Zayne-1 couldn’t find anything on the radar capable of targeting them.

A red beam split the heavens in front of them and carved a path towards their ship. “Victor, get us out of here,” Zayne-1 yelled. The ship dipped and dove, spiraling to the left to avoid the powerful red beam bearing down on it. It wasn’t enough. The beam clipped one of the craft’s wings and sent it spinning out of control. “Brace yourself,” Victor said calmly. Zayne-1 watched as the ground approached. There was no getting around it, they were crashing. The ship came to a jarring stop and Zayne-1 found herself surrounded by rent metal, smoke, and flames. Victor pleaded with her to move but she couldn’t. Everything seemed muffled and far away. Slowly, the world before her gave way to darkness.

I don’t remember my death. Well, my first death anyway. I remember every death since then vividly. The Vex, Crota and the Hive, The Fallen, The Taken, and the Cabal. They’ve all attempted to snuff out my light. Every time I’ve arisen and made my foes pay. But there’s still him, the Tyrant. The foe that has chased me across centuries as the Darkness has chased the Traveler for eons. Much like the Traveler, I cannot outrun it forever. I’ll have to stand and fight. Rasputin, my own ancient enemy. Pursuing me to silence a memory I no longer have. Now, Daito manufactures Exos capable of killing Guardians? Rasputin, the Tyrant, must be behind this.

Zayne-1’s eyes jerked open. She shielded her eyes from the sun. “How long have I been out?” There was no response. The Guardian looked up to find a large form silhouetted by the sun, her Ghost held in its hand. “Victor!” She shouted and reached for her companion, but she was stuck, pinned in by the wreckage of the crashed ship. “Zayne!” Victor called out for his Guardian but with a single gesture, he was crushed, his dull and lifeless shell dropped to the ground. Zayne-1’s eyes sparked with Arc light as she, in futility, tried to escape the ship and exact her revenge. The figure leaned down, and she recognized what was left of Taron-3’s face. The Exo grabbed Zayne-1 by the throat and squeezed. The Guardian struggled against her assailant but to no avail.

Three gunshots rang out through the EDZ as bullets wreathed in solar fire ripped through Taron-3. The Exo released its grip on Zayne-1 and collapsed to the ground. Zayne-1 clawed at the ship, frantically trying to get to the remains of her Ghost. The familiar light of transmatting surrounded her. The guardian screamed, trying harder to reach her friend. The inner workings of a ship appeared around her. Zayne-1 fell backwards, covering her face with her hands. “Zayne,” a familiar voice called weakly. She sat up, quickly spotting the crushed shell of her Ghost lying next to her. Zayne-1 scooped up Victor and held him close.

“Do I get a hug too?” Cayde-6’s voice came from the cockpit, light hearted and jovial as ever. The Hunter Vanguard sighed and shook his head. “I never get a hug.”