A Guardian Rises

The world was caressed by summer's soft winds as the horizon glistened like a frayed tangerine wrapped in a quilt of clouds. Rarely did this thicket disperse, yet streaks of light snuck through, gently showering the world with a mellow radiance.

As the sun descended over meadows of gold and yellow, it signaled the moment—the return to the nest. Like ants in a colony, cars lined the streets in a rhythm of headlights and exhaust.

Beside the busy roads, neglected neighborhood parks slowly filled with jovial students, humming and smiling as they chatted and fiddled with their phones.

Not long after, weary salarymen raced towards the markets, buoyantly drowning themselves in food and drink. Pedestrians flocked along the pavement, eager to rush back to the suburbs, their dogged faces reinvigorated by the desire to slump onto their beds.

Amidst the swarm of people, one man harbored.....peculiar plans.

Jostling through the throng, the young man found himself in several "passionate" encounters. Naturally, he was prepared.

"Hey! Let…LET ME go, you bastard!" he yelled, fighting tooth and nail to wrestle his leg from the clutches of the rush-hour maniacs.

Or should one say, tooth and shoe? Where was his shoe? Wrestling back to his feet, he barely squeezed through and frantically hobbled towards the crosswalk.

Going back to search for his shoe? Ridiculous!

A veteran like him knew the unspoken rules: whatever happened in rush hour, stayed in rush hour. Turning back would be a foolish endeavor; the crowd would swallow him whole and mercilessly spit him out the other side.

Besides, he didn't have time to squander.

A bright smile spread across his lips; today was a special day. Pacing through the bustling city, down the winding streets, he stopped in front of an old dorm. It was slightly lived-in, but that's all he could afford.

Swiftly up the stairs and to the last door on the left, his keys jiggled in his hand as excitement settled in. Stepping inside, he swiftly slammed the door shut.

At last… peace.

He turned on the PC and plugged in his headset—a feeling he'd missed during the grueling finals week.

As one might guess, he was a university student. After long and exhausting exams, he'd finally carved out some time to enjoy his favorite game.

The monitor lit up, and he launched the game frantically. An eerie and foreboding melody echoed as the game loaded.

The suspenseful chords rang in his ears, composed, as legend had it, by the conniving Witch Queen herself.

Destiny—a game set within a world of sci-fi and mythos. Today, he would embark on a new mission.

Yes, unfortunately, the man was a "Destiny" player. Alas, there were worse afflictions in life than addictively playing a soul-sucking game that also left him dead broke… right?

Perhaps the soundtrack had somehow actually bewitched him… Moving his mouse to the mission list, he selected the latest one.

**→The Ritual (Recommended Light: 1500) (Legendary difficulty)**

Launching the mission, he waited with bated breath as the Jumpship shot into the throne world.

Two hours later…

Just as he fired the last rocket, Savathun—the Witch Queen—slumped to the ground, and her treacherous hold on the Traveler weakened.

It was the culmination of the entire DLC. The final fight had left him an inch from death. His guardian would be practically dead if not for the dubious Phoenix Protocol and Well of Radiance build.

The Warlock Vanguard, Ikora, celebrated the successful attack, and then a cutscene played, introducing a new entity—the Witness.

It was all too perfect.

He'd wrapped up the game. But the addiction ran far too deep. His brain surged with euphoria and a dopamine spike as soon as he saw the loot drops pump through the chests.

Common? Legendaries? Exotics? Didn't matter—all he cared for was loot. But what now?

Sitting there wistfully, he realized he had wasted most of his life on this game. Grinding hours upon hours doing repetitive strikes and raids just for an exotic or legendary barely better than his current gear.

Some would call him a psychopath. Others would claim he was mentally disturbed.

But both groups would frankly be disgusted with what he was about to do.

Exiting the main menu, he saw three character slots.

1. Warlock (Light 1600)

2. Create New Character

3. Create New Character

Clicking on the empty slot, he began designing new facial features for a human character.

After wasting close to twenty minutes on character creation, he chose the Hunter class.

It went against everything he stood for as a Warlock main. But even he wasn't crazy enough to play through the game with the same class.

Clicking accept, the game began loading, and then it prompted him to name his new character.

A sudden jolt of cringe ran through his spine as he finished.

**Name: Void Blade**

He couldn't care less; it's not like he'd be stuck with it.

**Are you sure?**

The game prompted once more, and he quickly accepted. The Bungie logo appeared in the bottom right as the screen faded to black, loading the world.

But this time… something peculiar happened. A new prompt he'd never seen… A prompt so strange that he thought the game had somehow glitched.

The screen turned white, but before the game loaded, only one sentence hovered on the screen.

-

Would you like to try the enhanced difficulty mode?

[Yes] [No]

-

'What?'

He'd never heard of this. Excited at the prospect of new content, he immediately clicked yes.

Naturally, the game prompted again to confirm some terms and conditions.

He rolled his eyes as he rapidly agreed to whatever terms and services appeared. Not like anything important was ever listed there.

A bright flash of white sparked on the screen and the loading continued, suddenly the screen froze and turned off…

'Did the monitor break?' He frowned, immediately checking the cables at the back.

Everything seemed to be in order. Frustrated, he planted a few good smacks on the back.

The white pixels returned to the screen as it got brighter each second… The smacking had worked better than expected!

Perhaps… a bit too effective as the light from the monitor seemed to stretch outwards.

Wait, outwards?

Bright and shimmering light erupted, covering every inch of the room! Suddenly, the light enveloped him, and his figure began to flicker!

A few seconds later, he had all but turned into glimmer, flowing back into the screen as the light dragged him inside.

The screen went dark as only one message remained.

**Loading… Game will now start…**

The world turned to nothing, but then there was a voice and it whispered.

"Guardian."

Drawing the essence of the mind closer with every word.

'Who?'

"Guardian, are you awake?"

'Who are you?'

"Wake up, Guardian. We do not have time. The Fallen are coming; they've seen me. It's not safe here."

The voice urged, pulling him closer to life. From nothingness, a bright presence yanked him into a new body.

His eyes snapped open. All he could feel were the rocks he was buried beneath. The entity behind the voice saw him struggling and helped out—a bright flash of light turned the rocks to glitter.

The bright sunlight danced on his cold skin as he desperately crawled towards it, emerging from beneath the dirt to a new life.

With every push, he nudged his body closer to the surface. No strength remained in his arms, and his legs felt broken. He couldn't feel a bone in his body, but the voice beckoned, and he answered.

It felt like fate. Or perhaps it was destiny.

Driving his fist through the dirt, his fingers dug into the mud as he writhed out. 'Where am I?' he wondered.

Darting his eyes around, he found himself in a desolate scrapyard. It was a graveyard of metal, stretching endlessly under a bleak sky.

Rusted iron littered the landscape, remnants of a forgotten world. Decaying cars with shattered windows, planes with wings twisted and torn, and colossal shipping containers stacked haphazardly formed a chaotic maze.

Each piece of scrap was cloaked in rust, corroded by time and neglect.

Not an inch of ground was free from the suffocating presence of rusted metal, and the air was thick with the smell of decay and forgotten dreams.

Despite it all, the sky was a richly saturated deep blue. In the distance, he could see mountains, their peaks brushing the heavens, and when he turned around, a wall came into view—an insurmountable iron wall.

The scene felt all too familiar: the scrapyard, the echoing voice, and that imposing iron barrier. It seemed less like a wall and more like an iron dam.

The colossal iron plates, long since rusted with age, had started to fall away, exposing gaping cavities within the gargantuan structure.

There was a single door that he could spot, leading inside, into an abyss of darkness. Not a single speck of light lingered within, almost as if the darkness had devoured it entirely.

This was the Cosmodrome...

Just as his thoughts aligned, the voice resounded again. "Guardian, hurry up. We do not have much time."

He looked around but couldn't see its source. Still, he knew exactly who the voice belonged to. "Ghost?" he blurted out.

"Yes, Guardian," it responded, materializing with its black octahedron body, a single purple eye glowing in the middle. The eye turned yellow for

 a brief second, scanning him.

"You must be confused. Let me explain. You are a Guardian, and I am your Ghost. You've been chosen by the Traveler as a warrior of the Light, to protect and defend the Last City. Please, allow me to attune you to the Light. It will help you recover." The Ghost's semi-robotic voice resonated with calm authority.

He extended his hand, and the Light formed a connection. "Guardian, we need to leave immediately," the Ghost urged.

He smiled bitterly. He was used to patiently scrutinizing his equipment in the game. But now… somehow, he had been pulled inside it. There was no way the enemies would wait.

Suppressing his disbelief, he followed the Ghost as it floated through the Cosmodrome. The place was eerily familiar yet unnervingly real. Rusted structures loomed, and the distant hum of unknown machinery filled the air.

If this was truly real, he needed to hide. He scanned the area, searching for a safe spot.

"Guardian, I've secured a small weapons cache in a cave nearby. Follow me."

His instincts, honed by countless hours of gameplay, kicked in.

With the Ghost hovering beside him, he moved swiftly through the underbrush, the mechanical eye flickering between purple and yellow, vigilant and ready.

The cave was hidden among the trees and rocks, its entrance partially obscured by overgrown vegetation.

He crouched to slip inside. The cave was dark and damp, but it provided the concealment they desperately needed.

The Ghost's light illuminated the rough walls, casting eerie shadows.

"The cache is here." It beckoned, circling a small chest concealed under moss and dirt.

He nodded and crept closer to the case, calmly digging it out. But then… he stopped. What next?

Flummoxed, he searched for a button.

Embarrassingly enough, he soon realized the cache needed to be opened manually.

-

**New Equipment**

x1 Traveler's Chosen (Sidearm) 5LL

x1 Scorched Hunter Strides (Leg Armor) 3LL

-

The equipment in his hands felt all too real. Suddenly, a transparent window hovered closer.

-

Name: Void Blade

Class: Hunter

Level: 0

Light Level: 4

Subclass: -

Weapons: (None)

Gear:

Helmet: Trashed Mask

Grips: Golden Age Grips (Common): 3 LL

Chest: Golden Age Vest (Common): 4 LL

Strides: Trashed Strides

-

'This is my status?'

Before he could even understand it all, another window appeared, causing his eyes to widen.

-

Legendary Guardian System

System authorized…

System Level 1

Objectives initiated:

Become Legend 0/1: (Main)

"The Light calls for aid. Become the herald of change needed in the world, push back the darkness, and defend the Traveler."

Rewards: x1 {Unknown}, x1 {Unknown}, +10000 Legend Points, +10 million Glimmer.

Reach the Last City 0/1: (Main)

"The Traveler beckons the Guardians to serve the Last City. Heed the summons and begin your journey."

Rewards: x1 Beginner Hunter Set, x1 Ballyhoo Mk.27 (Hand Cannon) (Rare)

-

'A system?'

The line between reality and the game blurred further with each passing moment. This was no longer just a game. This was a fight for survival.

Leaning against the rough stone walls, he took a deep breath.

Perhaps he had been dragged into something dangerous.

Perhaps Void still thought it was a dream… But something inside him wished to live and push back.

Everyone who had ever played Destiny fantasized about being a Guardian, a fearless immortal warrior.

But right now, Void was scared. More scared than he'd ever been in his life.

Observing the system window, he wasn't designated as a player.

He could see the fact that the system had chosen him as more of an NPC. Quite obvious as he had no chat box feature. Had he truly become a part of the game?

Sitting in this small cave in some random scrapyard on Earth, he couldn't believe it all.

Void looked to the sky, a peerless azure horizon.

Far away, he could almost make out the white hue of the Traveler floating above—a miraculous machine that had given humanity another chance at survival.

Perhaps it would give him a chance too.