Deadlock
Deadlock Lore: Head to head, neck and neck. Make your move Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales. Proin elementum, odio in auctor volutpat, arcu arcu consectetur diam, quis porttitor nibh quam a lacus. Donec efficitur vitae erat at auctor. Suspendisse erat mauris, mollis nec justo ac, fringilla ultrices neque. Pellentesque vel facilisis ipsum. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Suspendisse dignissim urna dui, quis posuere magna tincidunt eu. Nam vitae pulvinar dui, a auctor ex. Morbi in aliquet magna. Maecenas luctus dui ac tellus volutpat tempor. Quisque at vehicula lacus, in molestie tellus. Duis consequat odio sit amet posuere pulvinar. Quisque sapien ex, porttitor eget imperdiet eu, varius quis nibh. Praesent id rhoncus dui. Duis nunc ex, accumsan quis fringilla ut, scelerisque eu lectus. Sed tristique non elit sed porttitor. Etiam scelerisque elit mi, et bibendum metus egestas vitae. Proin a purus a ligula eleifend eleifend. Proin nec molestie odio. Proin tincidunt neque congue enim sodales eleifend a et velit. Sed mollis quis dolor ut semper. Phasellus nisi lacus, egestas sed lectus a, finibus lacinia massa. Nulla consectetur nibh quis varius porta. Donec ac dui id ex ultrices lobortis. Pellentesque lacinia erat vel massa ultricies, eget feugiat neque fermentum. Nam vestibulum metus ac est dignissim rutrum. Sed aliquet egestas turpis, ac molestie urna fringilla et. Vivamus ut mauris pretium ante aliquet dapibus. Morbi a pellentesque massa. In nibh leo, tincidunt gravida urna at, suscipit finibus turpis. Duis sed dictum dolor. Etiam tincidunt mauris nec turpis volutpat dictum. Maecenas a varius velit. Aliquam sit amet ex nec nunc viverra sollicitudin non ac nunc. Aliquam in turpis sed justo tempor eleifend at.
Scavenger’s Fate
Scavenger’s Fate Lore: Go where scavengers fear to tread. Arrha threw the datapad to the ground in fury. It bounced once, then settled against a crate of contraband Psion weaponry. The screen continued to flash implacably: CONNECTION LOST… REESTABLISHING CONNECTION… FAILED… CONNECTION LOST… There was nothing for it. He would have to break the news to the Spider. He found the crime boss at the bar, glad-handing with a bookie in an oversized fur vest. They spoke in low tones before a subtle nod by both parties let Arrha know that a deal had been closed. No doubt a sizeable adjustment to the Crucible betting odds would soon hit the tote boards. Arrha gave a series of subtle clicks: .::: .:. : .:. :. :. trouble glimmer loss Arrha could sense Spider’s countenance sour beneath his helmet. The elder Eliksni dismissed the oblivious Human with a curt wave and headed wordlessly to the back room. “Skira’s anus, what now!?” “Another scav crew lost, the Spider,” Arrha replied. “Iiraahk came under heavy fire in the Reef. Went dark minutes later.” “That’s the third this cycle,” Spider fumed. “Send a replacement crew. Heavy weapons this time. I want the nav system from Iiraahk’s ship back.” Spider turned to leave, but Arrha felt compelled to stop him. “But the Spider,” he blurted, “the crews… they won’t go. Not until Fikrul is gone.” “They WON’T?” Spider growled. “That sounds an awful lot like mutiny.” “It’s fear,” Arrha said, hunching his shoulders. “They fear Fikrul more than the Spider.” “I could remedy that,” Spider replied menacingly. “But I can’t afford to make any more examples.” “I didn’t want word to get out about that sector,” he lamented, “but it hardly matters now. Time I called in a specialist.” He picked up the fallen datapad and opened a comms channel. “Welcome to my most lucrative customer…” Discover More Weapons Here
Sojourner’s Tale
Sojourner’s Tale Lore: Home is just over the horizon. The pipes are silent. Ether production is paused during batch loading, and in that interstitial time, Spider’s lair feels like a tomb. Every creak and groan of his throne becomes excruciatingly pronounced. Spider reclines against one arm, rolling a dead Ghost’s shell in one hand, scraping a clawed finger across its gray, lifeless eye. The arrival of a trusted associate pulls Spider from his thoughts. “Avrok,” Spider bellows, turning his attention to the armored Eliksni striding through the doorway, “what did you find?” Avrok approaches Spider’s throne, wringing his hands together anxiously. “Our thief, my lord.” Spider leans forward with a groan of the cables suspending his throne. “And what did you do to them?” he asks in greedy anticipation. That, however, is where Avrok falters. “I did not… catch them, my lord,” Avrok humbly answers, his much smaller frame eclipsed in Spider’s shadow. “But I have a name.” “Out with it,” Spider grouses, falling back against his throne with deflated interest. “The Crow.” Spider’s blood turns to fire. His grip tightens on that dead Ghost so hard its shell cracks. Spider continues squeezing it until the glass eye completely pops. Then he takes a moment to compose himself. “Our little bird, come home to the nest so soon? Tell me everything.” “He was able to infiltrate the storehouse,” Avrok explains, “and coerced a team of laborers to offload cargo promised to the empress onto a Skiff, which he then… stole. Along with a cache of your more—ah—personal belongings, among which was the quantum opal.” Avrok shrinks lower, lower, lower. “The supplies were delivered to Mithrax. In your name. As a gift.” “And the workers?” Spider growls. “They are gone?” Avrok doesn’t mean to make it sound like a question, and regrets taking the tone immediately. “To where, exactly?” “They…” Avrok takes a small step back from Spider’s throne. “Left.” He clenches his jaws. “With the Crow.” Spider slowly leans forward again. “For Earth,” Avrok concludes. The Ether pipes begin to hum and rattle as a new batch begins production elsewhere in the complex. The noises rise in intensity, turning into the familiar hissing wail that joins with the uncomfortable sound of Spider. Laughing. The Baron of the Shore throws his dead Ghost at Avrok who ducks away from it, covering his head with his hands. “He’s taking them to Mithrax,” Spider says between fitful chuckles and wheezing coughs. “He steals—from me—and gives it to the House of Light? Unbelievable.” Though behind the laughter and coughs, there is a hint of appreciation in his tone. “The kid’s grown a spine.” “There is,” Avrok starts, offering Spider a folded piece of paper, “one more thing. He left this behind.” Spider’s seal is scribbled on one side. “For you.” As Spider unfolds the note, Avrok creeps further away from the throne. Inside is nothing more than a crude drawing and a rude missive. “That little sh— ” The pipes are howling. Discover More Weapons Here
Legato-11
Legato-11 Lore: SUROS makes an effortless impact. Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales. Proin elementum, odio in auctor volutpat, arcu arcu consectetur diam, quis porttitor nibh quam a lacus. Donec efficitur vitae erat at auctor. Suspendisse erat mauris, mollis nec justo ac, fringilla ultrices neque. Pellentesque vel facilisis ipsum. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Suspendisse dignissim urna dui, quis posuere magna tincidunt eu. Nam vitae pulvinar dui, a auctor ex. Morbi in aliquet magna. Maecenas luctus dui ac tellus volutpat tempor. Quisque at vehicula lacus, in molestie tellus. Duis consequat odio sit amet posuere pulvinar. Quisque sapien ex, porttitor eget imperdiet eu, varius quis nibh. Praesent id rhoncus dui. Duis nunc ex, accumsan quis fringilla ut, scelerisque eu lectus. Sed tristique non elit sed porttitor. Etiam scelerisque elit mi, et bibendum metus egestas vitae. Proin a purus a ligula eleifend eleifend. Proin nec molestie odio. Proin tincidunt neque congue enim sodales eleifend a et velit. Sed mollis quis dolor ut semper. Phasellus nisi lacus, egestas sed lectus a, finibus lacinia massa. Nulla consectetur nibh quis varius porta. Donec ac dui id ex ultrices lobortis. Pellentesque lacinia erat vel massa ultricies, eget feugiat neque fermentum. Nam vestibulum metus ac est dignissim rutrum. Sed aliquet egestas turpis, ac molestie urna fringilla et. Vivamus ut mauris pretium ante aliquet dapibus. Morbi a pellentesque massa. In nibh leo, tincidunt gravida urna at, suscipit finibus turpis. Duis sed dictum dolor. Etiam tincidunt mauris nec turpis volutpat dictum. Maecenas a varius velit. Aliquam sit amet ex nec nunc viverra sollicitudin non ac nunc. Aliquam in turpis sed justo tempor eleifend at.
Prophet of Doom
Prophet of Doom Lore: “You know how this will end.” —Yardarm-4, Titan of the Kentarch 3 Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales. Proin elementum, odio in auctor volutpat, arcu arcu consectetur diam, quis porttitor nibh quam a lacus. Donec efficitur vitae erat at auctor. Suspendisse erat mauris, mollis nec justo ac, fringilla ultrices neque. Pellentesque vel facilisis ipsum. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Suspendisse dignissim urna dui, quis posuere magna tincidunt eu. Nam vitae pulvinar dui, a auctor ex. Morbi in aliquet magna. Maecenas luctus dui ac tellus volutpat tempor. Quisque at vehicula lacus, in molestie tellus. Duis consequat odio sit amet posuere pulvinar. Quisque sapien ex, porttitor eget imperdiet eu, varius quis nibh. Praesent id rhoncus dui. Duis nunc ex, accumsan quis fringilla ut, scelerisque eu lectus. Sed tristique non elit sed porttitor. Etiam scelerisque elit mi, et bibendum metus egestas vitae. Proin a purus a ligula eleifend eleifend. Proin nec molestie odio. Proin tincidunt neque congue enim sodales eleifend a et velit. Sed mollis quis dolor ut semper. Phasellus nisi lacus, egestas sed lectus a, finibus lacinia massa. Nulla consectetur nibh quis varius porta. Donec ac dui id ex ultrices lobortis. Pellentesque lacinia erat vel massa ultricies, eget feugiat neque fermentum. Nam vestibulum metus ac est dignissim rutrum. Sed aliquet egestas turpis, ac molestie urna fringilla et. Vivamus ut mauris pretium ante aliquet dapibus. Morbi a pellentesque massa. In nibh leo, tincidunt gravida urna at, suscipit finibus turpis. Duis sed dictum dolor. Etiam tincidunt mauris nec turpis volutpat dictum. Maecenas a varius velit. Aliquam sit amet ex nec nunc viverra sollicitudin non ac nunc. Aliquam in turpis sed justo tempor eleifend at.
Arcane Embrace
Arcane Embrace Lore: Channel an aura of control over the energies of the universe. Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales. Proin elementum, odio in auctor volutpat, arcu arcu consectetur diam, quis porttitor nibh quam a lacus. Donec efficitur vitae erat at auctor. Suspendisse erat mauris, mollis nec justo ac, fringilla ultrices neque. Pellentesque vel facilisis ipsum. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Suspendisse dignissim urna dui, quis posuere magna tincidunt eu. Nam vitae pulvinar dui, a auctor ex. Morbi in aliquet magna. Maecenas luctus dui ac tellus volutpat tempor. Quisque at vehicula lacus, in molestie tellus. Duis consequat odio sit amet posuere pulvinar. Quisque sapien ex, porttitor eget imperdiet eu, varius quis nibh. Praesent id rhoncus dui. Duis nunc ex, accumsan quis fringilla ut, scelerisque eu lectus. Sed tristique non elit sed porttitor. Etiam scelerisque elit mi, et bibendum metus egestas vitae. Proin a purus a ligula eleifend eleifend. Proin nec molestie odio. Proin tincidunt neque congue enim sodales eleifend a et velit. Sed mollis quis dolor ut semper. Phasellus nisi lacus, egestas sed lectus a, finibus lacinia massa. Nulla consectetur nibh quis varius porta. Donec ac dui id ex ultrices lobortis. Pellentesque lacinia erat vel massa ultricies, eget feugiat neque fermentum. Nam vestibulum metus ac est dignissim rutrum. Sed aliquet egestas turpis, ac molestie urna fringilla et. Vivamus ut mauris pretium ante aliquet dapibus. Morbi a pellentesque massa. In nibh leo, tincidunt gravida urna at, suscipit finibus turpis. Duis sed dictum dolor. Etiam tincidunt mauris nec turpis volutpat dictum. Maecenas a varius velit. Aliquam sit amet ex nec nunc viverra sollicitudin non ac nunc. Aliquam in turpis sed justo tempor eleifend at.
Compass Rose
Compass Rose Lore: “Let the Light be your compass.” —Mithrax “You should put your gun away,” the Warlock says as her Hunter companion strolls into the empty office. A long, appreciative whistle escapes him as he slowly turns and surveys the room. “The commander’s sure come on up, hasn’t he?” the Hunter remarks, Shotgun still resting on his shoulder. Then, noticing something on a high shelf, he wonders: “Is that a cat?” The Warlock gives him a gentle shove into the middle of the room, then slowly urges his Shotgun down from his shoulder; her touch leaves an ice-rimmed mark on the barrel. The look she levels at the Hunter is patient, but thinning. “I don’t recall having a meeting scheduled right now,” booms a voice from the doorway. Both Warlock and Hunter turn to face Commander Zavala, the Hunter shifting his Shotgun behind his back as his Ghost decompiles the weapon. He gives Zavala a crooked, apologetic smile and shows his hands to the Warlock in a “Gun? What gun?” gesture. “Commander Zavala,” the Warlock says with a quick chastising look at her cohort. “I’m—” “I know who you two are,” Zavala says as he breezes past them. “I have a call with the Consensus in ten minutes. You have eight of them.” “He’s heard of us!” the Hunter whispers to the Warlock, who gives him a surreptitious elbow in the side. “Commander. First of all, we wanted to thank you for the rescue efforts on Europa. We wanted to talk about the long-term plans regarding Eliksni settlement in the City.” Zavala sits at his desk, his face weary. “There is no long-term plan. Yet.” “You didn’t have a plan before putting them in a bombed-out ditch?” the Hunter interjects. Zavala’s expression is mixed with surprise and aggravation, but he lets out a burst of laughter—it crescendos in an uncharacteristically jovial manner before dissipating into a sigh. “I suppose it looks like that,” Zavala admits. “This is the territory the Consensus would cede for the time being. But the plan is to turn the area into a community learning annex where the Eliksni and humanity can freely share ideas, culture, and language.” “And they would live there?” the Warlock asks. “No,” Zavala says with a shake of his head. “If everything goes well, they’ll live in the City. Wherever they’d like. It’s just going to take time to build up the piece of Botza District we gave them, and to make sure the people of the City accept them. The last thing we need is violence born out of confusion and ignorance.” The Warlock and Hunter look to one another, then back to Zavala. “That’s… honestly better than we expected. No—offense to your city planning strategies, Commander, I just—” “It wasn’t my plan,” Zavala says, motioning to the woman eavesdropping in doorway. “Ikora,” the Warlock says with a respectful incline of her head. Both Warlock and Hunter look shocked at her presence. Ikora smiles demurely and more fully invites herself into the room. “When I heard Mithrax’s old fireteam had come to the City, I was surprised to see you here, rather than down there with him,” Ikora says, though she isn’t truly surprised. “Have you given him your regards?” “With everything that happened on Europa, ma’am, we didn’t think it prudent. He’s still—there’s still raw emotions and—with everything going on right now, it’s been hard to connect with him,” the Warlock admits, giving the Hunter a concerned look. Ikora regards them for a moment, then nods and approaches Zavala. “Family struggles can be challenging,” Ikora recognizes, her hand on the back of Zavala’s chair. “Even with found family. But I have faith you’ll find a way to work it out.” She leans over and whispers something to him; the Vanguard commander gives her a look of approval as he begins opening terminal windows for his impending meeting. “In the meantime, how would you two like to help the Vanguard?” Ikora asks with one brow raised. The Warlock and Hunter cast a furtive look to one another, but both are quick to offer silent nods of affirmation. Ikora smiles, having expected that response, and spreads her arms to herd the pair out of Zavala’s office. “Good. We have a long-range scout operating outside of the City, a newly minted Hunter, and we’d like you two to keep him company,” Ikora says as she walks. She glances briefly back over her shoulder to Zavala, who offers her an appreciative smile. “Who?” the Warlock asks. “That’s… complicated.” Discover More Weapons Here – ext
Ded Gramarye IV
Ded Gramarye IV Lore: Satiate wisdom, and be unleashed. Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales. Proin elementum, odio in auctor volutpat, arcu arcu consectetur diam, quis porttitor nibh quam a lacus. Donec efficitur vitae erat at auctor. Suspendisse erat mauris, mollis nec justo ac, fringilla ultrices neque. Pellentesque vel facilisis ipsum. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Suspendisse dignissim urna dui, quis posuere magna tincidunt eu. Nam vitae pulvinar dui, a auctor ex. Morbi in aliquet magna. Maecenas luctus dui ac tellus volutpat tempor. Quisque at vehicula lacus, in molestie tellus. Duis consequat odio sit amet posuere pulvinar. Quisque sapien ex, porttitor eget imperdiet eu, varius quis nibh. Praesent id rhoncus dui. Duis nunc ex, accumsan quis fringilla ut, scelerisque eu lectus. Sed tristique non elit sed porttitor. Etiam scelerisque elit mi, et bibendum metus egestas vitae. Proin a purus a ligula eleifend eleifend. Proin nec molestie odio. Proin tincidunt neque congue enim sodales eleifend a et velit. Sed mollis quis dolor ut semper. Phasellus nisi lacus, egestas sed lectus a, finibus lacinia massa. Nulla consectetur nibh quis varius porta. Donec ac dui id ex ultrices lobortis. Pellentesque lacinia erat vel massa ultricies, eget feugiat neque fermentum. Nam vestibulum metus ac est dignissim rutrum. Sed aliquet egestas turpis, ac molestie urna fringilla et. Vivamus ut mauris pretium ante aliquet dapibus. Morbi a pellentesque massa. In nibh leo, tincidunt gravida urna at, suscipit finibus turpis. Duis sed dictum dolor. Etiam tincidunt mauris nec turpis volutpat dictum. Maecenas a varius velit. Aliquam sit amet ex nec nunc viverra sollicitudin non ac nunc. Aliquam in turpis sed justo tempor eleifend at.
Someday
Someday Lore: Who you are is not who you will always be. During the Dark Age, survivors sat vigil over the dead. Many would fashion stone circles in the shape of the Traveler and laid their loved ones at the center, waiting prostrate for Ghosts that never came. When it was time to move forward, the living stacked those same stones atop the dead. Dirtied hands tied messages to each grave’s marker—tattered epitaphs of devotion, bravery, and sacrifice abandoned to twist mournfully in the breeze. REFUSED MEDICINE SO OTHERS COULD LIVE KNEW ABOUT THE MINEFIELD, INSISTED ON CROSSING FIRST ONLY 16 – HE LIVED A BOY, BUT DIED A MAN PROTECTNG HIS FAMILY FROM THE FALLEN Lakshmi-2 had read too many such elegies to remember them all, but the ones she had written stayed with her. There was the father who went back for his children, only for all three to be crushed underfoot by a Walker that didn’t even see them. The old woman captured by the House of Devils, tortured, then shot dead when she refused to reveal the location of her settlement. The child that starved to death before given the opportunity to accomplish anything, but whose mother insisted that Lakshmi at least try. “Please,” she’d said, “you’re better with words.” And so, Lakshmi wrote: A CHILD SLEEPS HERE, LEAVING HER MOTHER ONLY WITH HOPE SHE MIGHT SOMEDAY WAKE Hundreds of years after she had positioned the last stone atop the infant’s grave, in her final moments of life, Lakshmi wondered if the Vex would leave enough of her to bury, and what—if anything—would be written on her behalf. She would have never expected an Eliksni called Namrask to request visitation with her crumpled remains. She would have laughed, incredulous to learn that he sat by her side for hours in contemplative silence. Finally, he said, “I wish we could have both been better people.” And maybe Lakshmi someday would have been, had she known that he’d close her eyes with the tips of his fingers and weep. Discover More Weapons Here
Riiswalker
Riiswalker Lore: “No. I will not allow a Fallen to fight in the Banner, that right is reserved for Guardians alone. But if you insist, I may allow a Guardian to carry a Fallen-forged weapon into battle. You are a weaponsmith, are you not?” —Lord Saladin to an Unknown Eliksni A hurled bottle strikes an Eliksni in the head, sending him staggering to the side in a crowded street. Glass glitters on the ground. People gathered in a semicircle around him shout invectives and slurs, as he bleeds midnight blue from a deep cut in his brow. He has nowhere to run, cornered between a neon-lit club pulsing with the bass beats of rhythmic music and an alley blocked off by rubble left over from the Red War. “Please, no harm. Vriiksis friend!” he cries, two hands clutching his head, another held out flat as if it would ward the crowd off. “Looking for brother—missing. Please!” The crowd does not care, and they continue to work themselves up into a fervor. Lakshmi-2’s words fill their mouths, many of them too young or too naïve to realize it. Vriiksis can’t understand so many unfamiliar languages shouted at him at once, but he understands the tone of violence well. His posture says everything—the fear in his eyes carries additional nuance. He fears what happened to his brother. Hate begins to take root in his heart. A foundry worker steps out of the crowd, threateningly racking a round into a Shotgun. He aims down at the Eliksni, hands trembling. “You want to ask about family?!” the Human yells. Vriiksis does not know what he’s talking about. “Your people kidnapped my sister! She was running supplies from Earth to Titan. You raided it!” “Vriiksis does not—” He is cut off by a blast from the Shotgun that pulverizes the street beside him. Vriiksis crumples to his knees and cowers. “Please,” he says, and in the same motion, picks up a broken piece of the bottle he’d been hit with earlier to defend himself. The crowd screams in outrage. When the foundry worker advances on Vriiksis and racks another round into the Shotgun, there is a sudden cold snap that fills the air with mist. The Shotgun flash freezes, shatters like glass, and scatters into pieces of blue-black Stasis. The worker recoils, clutching his half-frozen arm, screaming. Vriiksis sees the crowd part behind his attacker, and a Hunter clad in black and gold with luminous markings on her armor strides toward them both. Darkness coalesces around her hand. Stasis crystals drift like tiny moons around her. “That’s enough!” Aisha shouts. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves! Look at you!” Aisha grabs the injured foundry worker by the collar with her free hand and shoves him back into the crowd. “Clear out of here before I clear you out! Now!” Wind swirls around Aisha’s feet, kicking up crystalline debris in whirling threads of Darkness. The crowd recedes like a violent tide, some tripping over others in their haste to flee. As the crowd disperses, Aisha dismisses the sickle of Stasis, and the swirling wind at her feet fades as well. She turns, looking at Vriiksis and offers a hand out to him. “I’m sorry,” she says with a tightness in her voice. He cannot see her expression behind the façade of her helmet. Vriiksis does not take the offered hand. His eyes show the same fear. The same hate. “It’s okay,” Aisha says slowly, offering her hand again. “You’re safe now, they’re—” “Not safe,” Vriiksis snaps at Aisha, his eyes dipping down to her hand and then back up to her helm. “You are just like Eramis. Mind-poisoned.” Aisha’s breath hitches in the back of her throat, and she slowly lowers the offered hand, closing gloved fingers into a briefly formed fist. “You’re hurt. At least let me escort you to a medical…” Her voice trails off. Vriiksis is already backing down an alley, blue eyes locked on her. She feels a weight on her shoulders, in her heart. The Eliksni disappears into the shadows, leaving Aisha alone under an endless night’s sky. Discover More Weapons Here – ext
