Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-24510587-20151030164455/@comment-25932172-20160131053627

As the Ketch zipped into hyper space, Arxus leaned back against the few crates that provided him support; containers emblazioned with the House of Blades emblem. The Fallen had proven to be a valuable ally again and again, with the Flames and the Blades, but a nefarious enemy at the same time. They were just like humans. Some of them were good-hearted, and some of them just wanted to watch the world burn.

Yet still, Arxus refused to get treatment for his injuries. He figured that he might just end up "walking it off" when he finally returned to the Tower. Even then, he might get involved in a full debriefing from Zavala. Unless that duty would have been relegated to Avgust, since he was the Guardian in command as of now. It was the most likely scenario, and that gave Arxus the chance to just sleep off all the pain and nightmares that the last few weeks had caused him. Too many lives were lost in just those short few weeks. People he had come to call friends had their bodies crushed and their souls annihilated under the sword logic of the Hive. It seemed all too surreal when he came back to think of it. All he could remember was the pain. The screams of agony from the deceased as they took their last breath, before being smothered and choked out by the darkness.

And that was what clouded his mind. What he saw was not hope, but the bitter realization that someday, he too might finally succumb to the alluring call of the abyss. Whether he went willingly or by force, that would be up to him.

Arxus picked up his helmet. It was the Commando Type 0 variant; a proud visage for a Titan who took his job seriously. He had earned it in the weeks prior to the Ceres Incident, having proved himself more than once in the field. But when he looked at it now, he thought. He mused and he wondered. It was a symbol of his defiance against the Darkness, an overpowering presence that threatened to swallow all that was pure. Yet, it was the only thing he could cling to in life. Without his role as a mighty Titan, a Guardian of the Last City on Earth... who was he? If he had not been picked by Grim that day, Arxus would had remained a skeleton, wasting away in the ruins of the Cosmodrome, a monument to all of humanity's failures. Their hubris had been undone in an instant.

The musing Titan slowly dragged his thumb across the left side of the helmet, which bore a scar not unlike the one on his own face.