Brave New World

Corrin continued to gape at the sight before her, her eyes widening more and more as Grey brought his jumpship closer. It was the largest city she'd ever seen in her life, with the walls that surrounded it taller than she'd thought possible. Even the great walls of Windmire could hardly compare.

After a few moments more, she finally managed to form words. "It's quite, uh… large," she said, then realised that it was a little more than an understatement. "This entire city is… I… I've never seen anything like it."

She chuckled at her own words. There was no way she was going to be able to do this place justice when she attempted to describe it to her family back home. If she got home, that is. She swallowed that troubled thought and pointed up to the massive object silently floating over the City. "I'm guessing the giant… fleshy looking thing hovering up there is the Traveler?"

She tried to sound less starstruck than she really was, but it clearly didn't work. Grey let out a chuckle at that. "Not flesh, dense neutronium," said the Hunter. "The stuff that makes up neutron stars."

Corrin gave him a rather questioning look. She had no idea what neutronium was, but if that was what stars were made of...

She looked back to the Traveler. It was both foreboding and awe-inspiring. The more she looked at it, the more she realised that there were many, many things in this world that simply didn't translate into anything from home.

A thought came to mind. "You said that humanity was saved from extinction by the Traveler, right?" She asked him.

The Hunter nodded. "Yeah. It's where the Light comes from, what allowed humanity to advance during the Golden Age, and what brought us back as Guardians. It sacrificed itself during the Collapse to drive away the Darkness," he said. "It'd been dormant for hundreds of years, until it awoke at the end of the Red War."

Corrin only truly understood half of what he said, but it was clear that the Traveler was an unimaginably powerful entity with incomprehensible abilities. A god, in many ways. One with a physical form, and floating just over the heads of the people who lived in the City!

As they got closer to the walls, Corrin noticed that there seemed to be gaping holes in some of them, being restored by repair crews working around the clock. It had clearly sustained damage, seemingly by powerful weapons. Perhaps it was a consequence of the Red War Grey had mentioned earlier.

Eventually, Grey pulled his ship into a rampart on the wall and docked into the Courtyard. The two were then transmatted out, onto solid ground. Corrin stumbled slightly, still not used to the strange method of travel. She took a moment to regain her balance, and then took a look around.

Banners and flags fluttered in the wind, all bearing the sigil of the Guardians. Orange tarps were propped up on the upper level, plants hanging from them. Civilian crews headed to and fro, from security patrolling the area to maintenance crews heading off to repair some malfunctioning machinery.

A frigid breeze blew through the area, causing Corrin to shiver in her armour. She was reminded that the City was surrounded by mountains on every side, and well above sea level.

Still, the Tower's position also gave them an excellent view of both the City below and the Traveler above.

"Welcome to the Tower," Grey announced, turning to her as he stepped forwards. "Well, more like the Wall. The actual Tower's over there."

Corrin turned to where he was pointing, to a construct that stood taller than the walls. It was partially-destroyed, with the upper part mangled beyond recognition.

Grey continued. "After the Tower was destroyed during the Red War two years ago, the Vanguard relocated headquarters to this little section of the wall and called it a day."

The princess stared at it for a little while longer and then frowned. This City still bore the scars of war, but it seemed to be on the path of recovery. Shaking her head, she followed Grey, into the Courtyard.

The area was populated by numerous other Guardians made up of all three classes, all garbed in different armour and colours and wielding all sorts of different weapons. Some were conversing amongst themselves, while others were fooling around with a purple ball. A Titan and Warlock were having a dance battle in the middle of the Courtyard, surrounded by other Guardians all cheering them on. A few others just seemed to be standing around doing nothing.

The sight wasn't exactly what Corrin expected. To see these superhuman warriors in advanced armour and wielding strange weapons who held incredible power at the fingertips acting like children was… surreal, to say the least.

Several Guardians seemed to stop and notice her, obviously because she looked so out of place, gawking at everything. While her flowing blue cape and light armour did make her seem like a Hunter at a glance, the actual Hunters seemed to take note of her bare feet and rather conspicuously exposed thighs. Noticing their eyes on her, she immediately sped up to catch up with Grey.

"Well… now what?" She looked to Grey questioningly. "Straight to your, uh, Warlock comrade?"

Grey turned to her and nodded. "Yep, straight to her. She'll probably have some idea what to do. Well, that's if she doesn't immediately blast you in the face with a Nova Bomb," he chuckled. "Let's just say she's kind of an ice queen, so don't expect her to like you at first. But she'll warm up eventually. Even if it took half a decade for me."

Corrin didn't know what a 'Nova Bomb' was either, but she smiled at him. "Well, I'm sure I can manage. Let's just say I have plenty of experience dealing with incorrigible people."

War had taught her diplomacy was a powerful tool, and words were often more effective than swords. Of course, there were plenty of times both were necessary to get results. She doubted this would come to that, though.

Grey gave her a look of mild skepticism, folding his arms. "Really now? Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Yeah, about that," Saratoga popped up between them. "Val's on mission with the rest of her Praxic friends right now. Won't be back 'till tomorrow."

"Hmm," the Hunter grunted. "Chance?"

"Escorting refugees to the City. You know, Pilgrim Guard and all that. He'll probably be back tomorrow if he doesn't get sidetracked like last time."

Grey winced at the memory. The last time his Titan teammate got sidetracked, it involved a Fallen raider band and an abandoned Golden Age fuel depot. The explosion could be seen (and felt) all the way from the Tower.

He turned back to Corrin. "Well, since neither one of my teammates are here right now, I guess I could give you a little tour," He told her. "You're probably gonna be here for a while, after all."

Corrin brightened up immediately at that, the cold forgotten. "A tour, how lovely!" She exclaimed, flashing him a smile. "Where to first?"

It was then that Grey realised that he hadn't actually given a tour to anyone in years, much less of the new Tower. "Well, I ain't exactly one to go into detail, so I'll be brief," he said, guiding her forwards, scanning the area as he considered who to start with. He eventually decided to go in a clockwise manner, starting with the Tower's Postmaster.

"That over there's Kadi. She's the Postmaster. You know, delivers packages to us Guardians and acts as lost and found," he gestured over to said Postmaster. She was very obviously robotic, her metal body looking very skeletal in nature, coupled by her flat-topped cylindrical head with a single glowing optic in the middle. Corrin tilted her head when she saw her. It was quite unlike the other Guardians. They at least looked human. "She's a Frame. Robots, non-sentient."

Said Frame was currently in the process of attempting to get a package to stop floating. A package for the Warlocks, it seemed.

Grey moved on to a woman standing behind a counter on the same row as the Postmaster. Several boxes were piled high behind her, and the wall behind her proudly displayed the letters 'EV' within a star.

"That's Tess Everis. Owner of the Eververse Trading Company," Grey said, watching a Warlock come over to bargain, over to immediately get rejected. "Charges too much. Kind of a rip, if you ask me. Pretty sure she cares too much about Bright Dust and Silver. Don't think even a second Collapse would make her close Eververse."

Well, that sounded rather familiar. "Reminds me of our resident deal maker, Anna," Corrin chuckled. "She's a master of the sale. Maybe just a tad bit too enamored with her gold, but good at heart."

"Great. Because all we need now is another Tess," the Hunter muttered with a shake of his head.

Next was a man draped in yellow robes and a hood standing under the shade of a red tarp, a carpet of similar colour underneath his feet. Several ancient books were stacked and huddled in the corner behind him. Corrin noticed that his skin was a shade of blue. She'd never seen someone with skin like that, and she had to remind herself not to stare.

The Hunter went on. "Master Rahool. Cryptarch. Basically historians and linguists, digging up secrets from the Golden Age. He decrypts Engrams when we bring them for him. It's probably gonna be an Edge Transit, though."

"If you think decryption is so easy, maybe you should try it out yourself, Hunter," Rahool said, unbothered as his eyes that glowed yellow underneath his hood were kept glued to his datapad as he swiped through it. "You're not the first to say that. Now if you excuse me, I have dead pre-Golden Age languages to translate."

Grey shook his head. "Even a million deaths ain't enough for Master Rahool..." he muttered rather bitterly.

The princess could sense the disdain they had for each other, but she had a question. "What's an engram?"

"Crystals encoded with the patterns of armor, weaponry and other items," Grey answered. "Solid matter takes that shape when physically encrypted."

Corrin blinked. A crystal that could take the shape of any solid object? That just added to the long list of mysteries she had since coming to this world. There was a lot to take in, almost too much. Corrin walked the line between excitement and sensory overload. A line that she was getting closer to crossing when she spotted several shelves full of unfamiliar weaponry behind a counter not too far away.

Suddenly engrams were a lot less interesting as Corrin gravitated toward the supply shop. She'd never seen such complex weaponry before, back home she considered a well forged blade to be the end all tool on the battlefield.

She felt a pang of sorrow at now having her blade with her now. She didn't know how the Yato would fare in this advanced form of warfare but it would be comforting to have a piece of home with her. Aside from the armor on her back, she had nothing from Nohr.

Nothing but her memories and a desire to return.

She was snapped from her thoughts as a voice addressed her.

"Were you..." said a deep and gruff male voice, and Corrin hastily turned to the source.

It was the shopkeeper, who was by far the strangest thing Corrin had seen in her time there. It was clearly humanoid and dressed in clothes, but seemed to have a metallic, skull-like head painted blue and orange, several antennas sticking out of it. Its eyes seemed to glow blue, both of them seemingly studying her.

It shook its head suddenly. "No, you just got here," its mouth and throat seemingly lighting up in the same colour as its eyes as it spoke. "Can I help you, kid? Looking for a new weapon or something?"

In response, Corrin simply stared for a moment before regaining her bearings. "Oh, no, sorry I was… just looking," she stammered a little nervously. "I, uh, just wanted to take a closer look..."

The machine seemed to regard her for a few more moments, before speaking. "You ain't from around here, are ya, kid?"

Corrin could only chuckle at that. "Isn't it obvious?" She asked. "My name is Corrin."

"Hm," the machine hummed in thought, and then placed down the auto rifle it was servicing, and put both its hands on the counter. "Name's Banshee-44. I'm the Tower's Gunsmith. Work for the Vanguard."

An odd name, Corrin thought. Why would he have a number in his name? She assumed from the suffix and the deluge of weapons that it was the rough equivalent of a blacksmith from home.

Banshee looked up to see her companion walking up behind her. "Grey."

"Banshee," the Hunter nodded in response. "She's with me."

"Friend of yours?" Banshee asked.

"Yeah. Just giving her a tour."

The Gunsmith seemed to raise a brow at that. "Never seen you give a tour to anyone before. Not that I can remember."

"First time for everything," Grey responded simply. "Anything new?"

"Hmm," Banshee paused to regard his question for a while. "Heard Zavala's planning an event, or festival, or something. Can't remember which one. All three classes are supposed to compete for prizes. Something like that."

"Prizes?" Grey asked, interested.

"Yeah. New weapons and gear. Top prize is a one of a kind machine gun. Can't tell you much, but it's Cabal."

"Top prize is a Cabal machine gun?"

"They make good guns," Banshee admitted with a shrug. "Gave it to me to fix for Guardian use."

The Hunter nodded in interest. If the top prize for this event was a top-tier Exotic-quality machine gun, he was definitely gonna compete. Plus, it was a chance to show the Titans and Warlocks what Hunters were made of, and to prove to the people of the Last City that Hunter was clearly the best class. "Alright, see you around, Banshee."

Most of the conversation the two were having went right over Corrin's head. She took the time to take a closer look at some of the weapons that Banshee had on display. They were all so… vastly different from what she saw back home. There weren't any tomes either, which made her wonder how the Warlocks Grey spoke of learned new magic.

Perhaps such knowledge wasn't found in tomes, but through studying this Light Grey had spoken of. She was eager to see this force in action, perhaps she could even learn some of the craft.

Once again, it had to come later. She waved to the Gunsmith. ""Nice meeting you, Banshee."

Banshee nodded in return. However, he suddenly seemed to remember something and clicked his mechanical jaws together. "Hey, seen Cayde lately? Haven't seen him in a while."

Grey stiffened. "No, no. I haven't."

Banshee hummed in thought for a bit. "Well, when you do, mind telling him to swing by and pick up his order?"

"No problem."

"Thanks, Grey."

"Anytime."

Corrin frowned as she followed Grey down a walkway that seemed to lead into another section. She didn't miss how halfhearted the earlier gesture seemed. "Who is this Cayde, and what happened to him?" She asked, both curious and a little concerned. "If something happened when Cayde can't come, don't you think you should tell Banshee?"

"Cayde is—was the Hunter Vanguard," Grey told her, shaking his head. "Was for years. Until he went on a mission to the Reef with a certain Guardian to handle a prison break. Turned out to be his last."

He sighed at the memory. "Murdered in cold blood with his own gun by Uldren Sov. Brother of the Queen of the Reef, he was trying to get his sister back. Killed Cayde's Ghost first, and then him. The City lost the best Vanguard we had since Saint-14, and so did we Hunters. 'Cept Saint actually came back, that is."

"And Banshee..." Grey shook his head. "He's stuck in an endless loop of getting crushed by Cayde's death and then forgetting it. Most of us have stopped trying to tell him by now. Don't want that to keep happening over and over again."

The princess bit her lip, turning back to the Gunsmith. "That's awful," She said. It was no wonder Grey chose to hide the truth. She couldn't imagine having to watch someone relive a loss like that over and over.

They continued walking, entering a more enclosed space and heading down the stairs. There was a tree growing in the middle of the space right at the bottom of the stairs. Dim sunlight streamed through an opening, casting a twilight glow on the walls.

Much of the area was lit by several electric lights and lanterns. Clothes were hanging from the balconies, and several of the wooden shutters were open. They entered a hallway lit by several lights hanging from wires on the walls. It was much warmer here, something Corrin was thankful for.

A 99-40 Frame was dutifully sweeping the floor. It suddenly looked up to them as they passed. "But in that sweep of death, what dreams may come?" It spoke, and then went back to sweeping like nothing had happened.

Corrin blinked. She hadn't really expected it so say something so… philosophical. It felt like something Azama might appreciate, and the thought made her chuckle.

Grey only rolled his eyes. "Don't know why they keep doing that. Probably their programming or something."

"These… contraptions," Corrin began, looking to Grey. "Are they similar to Banshee? They seem somewhat similar."

Grey shook his head. "No, these are Frames. Mass-produced by the City Foundries. Easily built, easily destroyed, and easily replaceable," He told her. "Exos, on the other hand... well, they're as much of a mystery to us as they are to themselves."

Exos could hardly remember their original purpose, and few actually remembered to Collapse. It of course became even worse if they were resurrected as a Guardian.

"Exos. Short for Exomind, they were developed by the Clovis Bray Corporation during the Golden Age. They're human minds uploaded into mechanical bodies for purposes unknown, and as such they're fully intelligent," the Hunter explained. "The knowledge to build the Exos was lost during the Collapse. The ones you see here in the City are all that's left, and most of them are older than the City itself."

"The number that goes after an Exo's name stands for how many times they've been rebooted. Memory wiped. Each reboot erodes an Exo's mind, makes it harder for them to retain memories. The maximum safe limit is twenty."

He turned to her, watching the gears turn in her head. "I don't think I have to tell you why Banshee has trouble remembering things."

Corrin paled at that, the horror being shown clear on her face. "Why would anyone do such a thing?!" She cried. "And why reboot a mind so many times if it's dangerous for them?"

The Hunter merely shrugged. "After the transfer Exos tended to suffer from something called 'Dissociative Exomind Rejection', or DER for short. The human mind rejected its new body. Rebooting helped to stave it off, but not cure it completely," he said. "Let's just say that for all the scientific achievements humanity accomplished during the Golden Age, it all came with a price."

The princess could only shake her head in disbelief. Forty-four times Banshee had been rebooted, corroding the memories to the point it struggled to remember anything. It was heartbreaking.

They exited the tunnel, coming into a more homely area, with tables and chairs arranged on the upper level. Colourful banners hung from the pillars, as did flags blowing in the wind. Apartment blocks were tightly clustered together towards the back of the area.

"Tower Bazaar," Grey said. "Apartments here contain the homes of many Guardians. I have one further along the wall. Haven't used it in a while, though."

There was a small eatery to the side, its signboard reading 'Spicy Ramen'. Bright neon signs advertised its signature product. Several civilians and Guardians were seated at the counter, eating their dinner. Corrin recalled that ramen was a popular dish in Hoshido, and it seemed that it was one here, too. She smiled at the coincidence.

Grey noticed her looking, and he smiled. "I used to come here every time with... with..." he trailed off halfway, expression darkening as he looked away and sighed. Corrin tilted her head curiously. She was tempted to ask if something was wrong, but had a feeling that he wouldn't answer anyway.

"Never mind," Grey cleared his throat and moved on. He gestured to a pavilion at the edge of the wall. Surrounded by shelves of old books and tomes and other equipment was a dark-skinned woman in flowing purple robes. She was currently in a conversation with another Warlock in full Cormorant Blade armour.

"Ikora Rey, Warlock Vanguard," Grey said, before cocking his head towards the other Warlock. "Must be one of her Hidden. Her 'crack group of intelligence agents'," He finger-quoted. "Spies, basically. And damn good at what they do."

Corrin perked up at that. "Could she help us?" She looked to Grey questioningly. "Or is she too busy for such tasks?"

The Hunter crossed his arms and frowned in response. "Probably too busy worrying about the evil Pyramid of doom on the Moon like they have been for the past seven months," he scoffed. "It's a long story, and I wouldn't ask if I were you. I'd rather ask Val, known her for years and I know I can depend on her. She'll, uh, probably know what to do."

The two Warlocks finished their conversation, the Hidden walking away while Ikora went back to staring at the Traveler. Grey shook his head. "Besides, I wouldn't put too much faith in the Vanguard. It ain't half of what it used to be."

Something had changed within the Vanguard in recent years, especially after the Red War. Perhaps it was the consequence of having their Light stripped from them by Ghaul and having to repeatedly dodge a final death at the hands of the many enemies of humanity, but he could see the change even before that.

The Vanguard constantly bickered with each other without getting much done. Zavala was too hesitant, and Ikora seemed to put too much faith in the Traveler. Cayde, on the other hand, was really the only one who acted. He hated his position, but did a mighty fine job.

After his death, that change worsened. Cayde was, in many ways, really the only one keeping things from falling apart. And now, the position of Hunter Vanguard was empty, and still hadn't been filled yet even over a year after Cayde's death. Sure, the position was settled by the infamous Vanguard Dare: The current Hunter Vanguard would make a bet, and whoever outlived him or her would get the position.

In his will Cayde stated that whoever killed him got to inherit all his stuff, from his gun to his pet chicken the Colonel, and yes, his position as Hunter Vanguard. That someone happened to be Uldren, who was killed long ago. While there were rumours that he'd been raised as a Guardian (for some reason), they were never confirmed.

That left the Young Wolf, Cayde's protégé, and the one who avenged his death. He was the one who killed Uldren (or so it goes) and restored his signature hand cannon, the Ace of Spades. However, it was decided that the Wolf, with his legendary track record, was simply too important to be holed up in the Tower all day as Hunter Vanguard.

So, as it stood, the position was still empty, and didn't seem like it was going to be filled any time soon.

Grey suddenly seemed to remember something, and he turned to Corrin. "Hey, I just remembered I have some things to take care of," he said. "Mind staying here for a bit? I won't be long."

"Hmm?" The princess glanced to Grey, eyes widening as he stated he needed to step away. "Wait, but I—"

But he had already Blinked away, leaving her alone.

"—Don't know where to go," Corrin finished, sighing. She supposed she could stay put, as Grey had told her to, but she just felt so out of place, and she could feel eyes on her as she stood in the middle of the walkway. She didn't dare duck into a shop, she didn't have money and didn't want to try and explain her convoluted situation to another.

But she did notice a dark staircase that seemed to lead into the depths. She didn't know why, but she felt a strange pull towards it, almost as if something within was calling to her. It was an eerie feeling, but she trusted it all the same.

And so she stepped towards it.