Armor of the Great Hunt (Titan)
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Helm of the Great Hunt
How dare she.
She knows me so well.
What [the Queen] wants, the Techeun move worlds to obtain. And so the Witches devise an impossible machine that speaks a visual language with very few spaces between its words. This machine speaks [wishes]. Makes [bargains].
The Wall of [Wishes], it is called.
If the Techeun's design proves correct, it will be difficult for me to interpret the [wishes] made at the Wall to my advantage. But challenges entice me.
I look upon the Wall. Upon the Witches' visual language for [bargains]. For me, it is a menu of delights to feast upon.
Gauntlets of the Great Hunt
I am [Riven]. My work on the Dreaming [City] is complete.
I have done everything [the Queen] asked of me. But this is a [bargain].
I did so much more than that.
[The Queen] and her ilk will not understand for some time, though I think [the Queen] can see the signs. What I carved into the small corners. In the Wall of [Wishes] itself.
This will be a beautiful [City].
But not a safe [City].
Plate of the Great Hunt
Joxer checked the safety on his rifle for the ninth time.
Illyn of the Techeun stepped out of the greyness before him. A massive, coffin-shaped container levitated at her side.
"You won't need that," Illyn said of the rifle.
Joxer kept it in his hands.
"All that Light and still your key motivation is fear. It's fear that drives you to ask the Queen for help."
"They wouldn't be so base. They're re-writing Venus."
"Whatever. It's a problem I can't punch. Do you have guns that will help, or not?"
The massive container lowered itself before the Titan. Illyn lifted the lid and pale cosmic light from within reflected off Joxer's eyes.
"Long rifles. Close quarters weapons. Silent killers in the night. All yours to borrow. You must return these when your Hunt is complete."
"Why?" Joxer frowned.
"Those are the conditions of her bargain. Take it or leave it."
"Her? The Queen?"
Illyn didn't respond.
Joxer took the entire container on his back.
Greaves of the Great Hunt
So the Dreaming City would have a Wall, too. Leona Bryl stared up at rows of blank, circular plates with dread.
This one was more valuable than everything behind the Wall of the Last City.
And not nearly as defensible.
The Tower has asked for help in its Great Hunt. If the Vanguard knew that the help the Queen rendered came at the behest of the Ahamkara, armies of Guardians would storm the Reef. So they will never know.
The Guardians brought this on themselves. The bargains they made, and the power and knowledge they gained was equivalent to the chaos wrought on this system by whispers. The Queen was glad to help them clean the mess if it meant Riven would be the last living Ahamkara. Power is useful. Unique power more so.
Leona wasn't sure if she was as glad as the Queen.
Mark of the Great Hunt
Mara stared at the Wall of Wishes. She had no more bargains to make. Her plans were in motion.
There was nothing left but the wait.
She pulled a sidearm from a hidden holster and cracked a dozen rounds into the Wall.
The cosmic balance shifted. Somewhere in the Dreaming City, Riven heard the Queen's wish and a thousand shrieking tears in reality cut through the space in front of her.
Lord Shaxx suddenly blocked Mara's view of the Wall.
"—YES, AND WE'D ALL BE DEAD!" He was screaming at no one, with a mug of caffeine in his fist.
He started, almost spilling his coffee. "Where are we?"
Mara slapped the mug out of his hand. It shattered on the floor. She shoved a weathered book in his face. "I told you there would come a time when I collect for the Reef Wars. Read this. Out loud."
"No one tells me what to do," he said, grabbing the book and incinerating it in a bolt of Striker lightning. "I can recite The Tempest by heart." And he did. Mara sat and listened. They stayed for a long time.
The helmet stayed on.
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