Lore:As Without
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As Without is a Lore book introduced in Reclamation. Entries are unlocked by interacting with data pads in activities featured on the Portal. These entries explain the state of the Sol System as the Vanguard investigates Kepler.
Distortions
The Hidden embrace their conatus in analyzing the nature of the chrono-spatial distortions on Earth. They cross-reference samples, interview witnesses, and create elaborate computational models. I will leave them to it. The question that interests me is not "how?"… but "why?"
My inquiry must begin with the Taken. Chrono-spatial distortions are, by nature, harbingers of unintended consequences. I must know whether destroying the Echo of Navigation unleashed a latent power within the Taken… or whether these distortions arise from another influence.
I have been observing newly independent Taken near Europa's Golden Age ruins. They appear in causally independent patterns, rather than their telltale clusters. They traverse to and from the Ascendant Plane at seemingly random intervals. Nothing in their behavior suggests a linkage to the time distortions we've seen elsewhere, save for one thing…
Hidden agents report a curious finding on Europa: Vex are luring stray Taken into fortified areas for capture. As an entomologist might trap insects. The behavior is consistent with an empirical sampling effort, rather than the usual territorial squabbles.
My investigative efforts on Europa have yielded positive results. I have managed to secure a live Vex Minotaur, at the cost of a chipped tooth, much to my irritation. I am eager to test my many hypotheses on a live subject.
A mixed result: I was able to download a plurality of data from the captured Minotaur's frame, completing my prime objective. However, my security measures were partially insufficient, allowing the Vex to trigger its self-destruct sequence. The smell of scorched radiolaria still befouls my ship's upholstery.
The data downloaded from the captured Minotaur is fascinating. In addition to the standard protocols, it contained a prodigious amount of data that can only be described as 'irrational.' As if it transcribed information from language it could not understand. It's times like these that I miss Brya's expertise.
The presence of the 'irrational' data within the captured Minotaur leads me to conclude: this Vex frame was not of a collective previously documented on Europa, but rather, a member of the Nessian Schism. It seems Maya's research is taking her further afield.
The 'irrational' data I recovered from Maya's captured Vex is wreaking havoc on my ship's systems. Its effect on my firewalls indicates that it is not a malware of any known variety, or indeed, anything of technological origin. Rather, the incursion seems to be a glitch within my local timespace continuum.
I have been able to contain the glitch infecting my ship with a Hive spell derived from Haroktha's brood. However, substantial damage has been done. Several key components show signs of advanced decay, enduring years' worth of untreated oxidization within minutes. Meanwhile, other components de-aged to factory-fresh condition.
The damage done to my ship's systems by the time glitch is extensive, but instructive. It further validates a burgeoning hypothesis: the Vex are researching a power beyond paracausality—the ability to manipulate time itself. If so, the Vex are merely fomites, rather than the origins of the disruption.
Fissures
Drifter's locks, perpetually concealed behind that greasy head band, have gone a sterling grey. The aging of Lightbearers has been the subject of much pontification within the Cryptarchy. Even more so regarding former Lightbearers like myself. But this is the first case of spontaneous aging in the known record. Leave it to Drifter.
I am now confident in concluding that the Vex are merely a vector for the time distortions we've witnessed. My sapient intuition is that the cause will be found beyond the meager confines of our three dimensions. Tangentially, my ship's internal clock now counts using a ternary system, rendering it all but useless.
Not wanting to risk another acute thermal event aboard my ship, I chose instead to garner assistance from a Vex expert. Upon my arrival on Nessus, it was not Osiris who answered my call, but Failsafe. Apparently, she recognized my ship's identification and immediately sent an invitation for tea.
It will be a while before Failsafe finishes her analysis of captured Vex remnants. She has generously provided a list of non-poisonous local plant life, and their locations. I hope to pioneer a new blend of Nessian tea while I wait.
Failsafe has finished her work. The most notable result was not digital, but physical in nature. Carbon-dating confirms that multiple components of the Vex frame are different ages, though they were manufactured at the same time. It seems this Vex suffered similar temporal distortions to those that ravaged my ship, and Drifter.
My custom blend of Nessian tea is palatable, and liberal use brings on a pleasant numbness around the lips, tongue and nose. I think Drifter will be delighted by such a culinary oddity. I have vacuum sealed a generous quantity for our reunion.
Dedicated observation of the Nessian Schism leads me to believe that Maya's control over the Echo of Command has begun to dwindle. I witnessed several groups of Vex roaming in loose bands, seemingly without patrol routes. I saw one Goblin sit on the ground and watch an insect with childlike interest for some time.
I discovered a group of Choral Vex frames, devoid of life, warped and twisted, driven into the ground like corpse daffodils in early spring. They were drained of radiolaria, perhaps in a punitive measure. If the Conductor is forced to mete out such draconian punishment, then her hold over the Collective must truly be imperiled.
The Neomunians have reported a theft of Golden Age data similar to the incursions documented by Hidden agents throughout the inner system. Though a byzantine system of cutouts made it impossible to pinpoint the source, the modus operandi points to Maya Sundaresh and the Choral Vex.
Maya's system-wide pursuit of Golden Age technology, while effective on its face, belies an underlying desperation. It calls to mind a scientist frantically changing the conditions of their experiment to elicit the hypothesized results. Whatever stratagem Maya used to overextend herself—whatever Faustian bargain she made—has clearly left her weakened.
Failsafe's final scans on the Minotaur remains show micro-clustering of unknown subatomic particles in conjunction with trace exposure to Kα iron emission. She stated that while the material was too lossy for reconstruction, even after p-hacking the data, we can deduce that the subject was exposed to large quantities of dark matter.
After much cajoling, Drifter agreed to assist in surveying dark matter emissions within the system. None that I visited coincided with the presence of Maya Sundaresh or her collective. The final set of coordinates led off into empty space.
The dark matter emissions at the outer edges of the system seem to move in a path, a trail… a ribbon… of energy. I have alerted Ikora, who agrees that this warrants further inquiry. She is currently, and I'm sure non-coincidentally, investigating similar radiation in the trans-Neptunian belt.
I h4vE follow3d ThIS#111#01001001 01001001 01001001 [ERROR] ribbon of energy ##01001001 01001001 01001001 signature keys to the time dilation surrounding 01001001 01001001 01001001 but to no avail [ERROR] lead you toward 01001001 01001001 01001001space [ERROR]
Treacherous Contacts
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
Naturally, the Praxic Order is concerned with the proliferation of reality-altering technology.
But the Order's mandate is not the protection of the City. Or even humanity. It's to combat the agents of Darkness. Until the Vex fall within those parameters, the Order respectfully declines.
Sorry, Ikora. I tried.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
Normally I wouldn't get out of bed to track Cabal activity, but the Hidden are reporting a new sect at work on Mars. Their livery and weapons are fresh, and they're doing brisk trade with the local gangs. Not within our purview… I know. But it bears watching.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
According to Omar Saint Croix, this new faction of Cabal are big players in the Martian arms trade. They have guns and armor for sale beyond the usual refurbished Red Legion junk. Someone out there with real manufacturing clout is behind them. To what end, I'm not sure yet.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
I know the Martian Cabal isn't a sanctioned target, but mark my words: it's only a matter of time. Nobody stockpiles this much gear without hedging against Guardian interference. They'll want paracausal weapons sooner or later. And by the time we see them in the field, it'll be too late.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
I told you it was only a matter of time before this new Cabal faction went after paracausal weapons… and here we are. A hit squad wearing their livery mugged Xur in the Winding Cove. Cased him until all the Guardians left, then gave him the old Dark Age stick-up.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
Here's the inventory of everything stolen from Xur:
(1) Bad Juju
(1) Malfeasance
(1) Ruinous Effigy
(1) Flight records
Left all the Strange Coins, Glimmer and standard gear. Clearly knew what they were after. This won't be their last attempt to secure advanced weaponry.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
After reviewing the Xur case file, something sticks out: the flight data. They didn't just want the weapons, they wanted to know where he got them. They wanted his contacts. Looking back, that might have been the real target of all along.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
Looks like I was right about the flight records being the real target of Xur's stick-up. Intercepted comms from an unidentified Cabal ship included references Xur's Dominion and Eternity. The message repeats nine times. Somebody's trying to make contact.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
I think the renegade Cabal are making headway. Our undercovers on Mars report their lieutenants out trading for samples of periodic elements, most of them benign. Tungsten, Iodine, Ytterbium, Neodymium, the list goes on. And not in quantities useful for manufacturing, either. Something's up.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
I put out feelers with the Fallen mob in Tharsis. Rumor is the Cabal have their Psion engineers building a cipher device using periodic elements as its key. Not the words for the elements, but the elements themselves. They have to be getting outside help. And I mean waaaay outside.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
The Hidden listening post on Mars reports a spike in local comms traffic. Whatever the Cabal were hoping to gain from Xur's flight records and their elemental cipher, it seems to have worked. We still don't know who's backing the Martian faction, but they've got big plans.
CORMORANT-LEVEL ENCRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:
Our agents have been making indirect inquiries to the other gangs in Tharsis. Word is the Cabal are looking for the Drifter, and more specifically, the Derelict. I get the feeling Drifter stepped in something rancid, and he's about to track it all over our carpet. Where is that scumbag?
Decompiled
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she understood me in a way he never could. having to make it alone after brya.
she was vibrant. tough. a real badass. breathing life into his lifeless existence.
and now… she's gone. and he's not far behind.
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he's shirking again. heading for the edge of the system, like there's something out there.
it's pathetic. old as a sequoia and still running away from home like a little kid. what a waste.
in a strange way, i sympathize. if i could leave this gutless creep behind, i'd already be gone.
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something told me to compile. intuition, maybe. my first time in years. i was surprised how heavy my shell felt.
he never saw me. but i was watching as something passed over the ship, or maybe we passed through it. and for a few minutes, i felt fresh. bright. hopeful.
like in the beginning. before him.
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he's grey now. aged decades in seconds. hasn't said a word about it, but it's not like i want to hear his crap anyway.
i wonder if the anomaly aged me too. is my core all rheumy and dim now, like an old lady's eyeball?
not that it matters. old or young, eternity is just as long.
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i try not to think about how much I gave up for him. my voice. my agency.
not for myself, but for him too. so both of us could survive.
if only i'd known.
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and she's back! just like that. even without a ghost. funny how death works.
finally. a little gleam of justice. if anyone deserved it… it's her.
he looks happy. maybe even thinks he is. but i know him better than that. he's just relieved she saved him from himself… again.
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this business in the oort cloud… he's playing with forces he can't hope to understand. like a kid waving a stick of dynamite.
if he thinks he can get through this without me, he's fooling himself. his specialty.
Curious Discoveries
The effects of her actions remain primarily unresolved for the time being. Though Maya's desperation has brought devastation to many, I find it easy to empathize with her. We have all made risky decisions in hopes of survival.
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guess he forgot, but i saw the vision too. we saw the same scenes play in the nine's little drama. but i didn't lie on my back and wait for belly rubs from their pawns. the drifter i know would never take this lying down.
A passing thought haunts my mind from time to time: Maya's sacrifice was desperate. I'm reminded of my Brya. It's such a cruel thought; I fell ill with grief and begged every star for her to return, but the choice had already been made. Desperate decisions create tragic consequences.
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the drifter needs to pull his head out of his butt and leave the prophecy alone. that dream has really gotten into his head.
drifter might think pleasing them will erase his history of screw ups, but really, he's just adding another to the pile.
A.M. - Praxic Observation 32: I saw newly independent Vex holding each other tenderly. It wasn't cold, yet they shivered; perhaps their embrace protected them from their fear. Do they experience anxiety as we do? Fear the unknown? These are human emotions. Perhaps it's ridiculous to compare them.
01100010 01101100 01110101 01100101
i'm being punished.
i only help him, and in return, i get a cold shoulder. i've never gotten a "hey, thanks" or a "good job." not that i needed it, but…
i wanted more.
he hates himself so much that he can't stand being supported.
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best way to be heard is to not speak at all, huh?
i was naive; i only had one goal in mind. though that's what we needed at the time.
i don't regret it. i just know he wouldn't do the same for me.
Warped Mirror
A.M. - Praxic Observation 35: Some Guardians invited me to "swim in sand caverns." I assumed this was a metaphor until I saw them for myself. Dozens of holes in the planet's surface formed and filled with clear water, enough secluded beaches for each Guardian. Full scans attached.
A.M. - Praxic Observation 42: A Guardian had magenta stains on their armor as a result from the rain. I have previously witnessed unusual weather phenomena, but this is the first time I have heard of Earth raining red phosphorus. Like tears of blood. A mourning planet.
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he talks about her. i keep thinking he'll stop one day, but he hasn't yet. maybe he never will.
she's different. she's wonderful. too wonderful for a guy like him. she doesn't need a dirtbag like that. like us. i hope she realizes it someday.
A.M. - Praxic Observation 51: Today, I apprehended a Vex stealing from a vendor. During questioning, it spoke pure gibberish like it was making sounds and hoping for the best. I couldn't help but wonder if these new Vex are trying to get by like the rest of us.
I dreamt the sky was bright and cloudless. A flock of whims huddled together, sleeping almost like a pack of dogs. One slept with their belly exposed. It might have been cute if I wasn't painfully aware of their true nature. Their births will result in many deaths.
01100010 01101100 01110101 01100101 i want hands, a face and feet. i'd put them to good use. i'd hold a big gun and run faster than everyone. i'd snarl, spit, eat, kiss. i could be big and scary and beautiful. my body is perfect. i want what they have.
Maya is overcome by the demon that is greed. Alas, I cannot help but feel pity when I see how it has caged her mind. I've received word of her stalking around the area, searching for a lead to SIVA tech. Her shortsightedness is exceeded only by her desperation.
Reconciliations
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drifter keeps finding new ways to tick me off. He needs to be strapped to a chair. he needs a kick in the gut and a punch to the jaw. he needs someone who understands him. he needs an intervention.
he needs his ghost.
A.M. - Praxic Observation 60: The shrill ringing of III's final breath has eased into a low hum. Thankfully, its intensity is a decibel below most everyone's auditory registration. Strangely, it brings me comfort during quiet nights. A song of death brings more peace than silence of the unknown.
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i can never say how important he is to me. the guy's already keeping me way past arm's length and avoiding me like the plague.
i'd be out of my mind to expect so much more when i have so little. still, i wish i could tell him.
A.M. - Praxic Observation 68: There's an uptick of a dry cough among those residing in the Tower called the "Caiatl cough." It's a heavy hacking resembling the empress's laugh. Though amusing, the Tower's overall health has experienced a noticeable downturn. Only a matter of time before symptoms worsen.
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i'll be honest with myself: i know i'm being unfair to him. i know this isn't his fault.
he wasn't perfect, but i thought he was mine. i'm starting to think that may have never been the case. he moves on, and i'm left behind.
A.M. - Praxic Observation 71: While hunting for the Caiatl cough cure, I noticed masses of dense minerals moving without intervention. Stones sailing unimpeded across the terrain—searching for a heartbeat, the warmth of III's core. Lost minerals, lacking in purpose. Perhaps we'll use them for medicine.
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i want to see a new universe. a world where he is the man i wish he were. i could be something more. it's just him, me, and us. nobody else. we'd be selfish together.
maybe it's best i don't speak now.
Other Side
Maya is once more dominated by her abhorrent desire for power. Siphoning paracausal energy will undoubtably end in catastrophe. Timelines are fine threads, easily tangled. Her judgement is clouded by the impetus to summon an army. The results will punish her—and us—yet again.
Maya hides away from our detection. We believe her to be seeking a power to replace an Echo. Ikora and I are searching for her, but she evades us at every turn. I call out to the universe and entity to find her and hold her in place. It does not.
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it still stings. in his eyes, he's had nothing to protect until now.
he found his life's purpose. great. he wouldn't have it without a life. one i gave him.
and damn it, maybe i'm worth protecting, too.
A.M. - Praxic Observation 77: The minerals are not a cure. The search continues. During testing, the sailing stones caused mini-earthquakes that could only be felt within a ten-foot radius. Quakes would require III to live and shift the plates, which is clearly impossible. Back to the drawing board.
Maya is still missing. I wonder if her earlier mistake may have been her last. Without an army of Vex standing at the ready, she cannot bring new plans to fruition. Until that changes, I must focus on my work with Lodi and the Nine.
A.M. - Praxic Observation 79: The sailing stone earthquakes proved useful. They revealed rotten soil which has modified our edible flora. Pollen now emits a small amount of dimethyl disulfide. It is astonishing that we haven't smelled it. We are modifying seeds in the Tower now. I'm cautiously optimistic.
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my silence made me grow.
he never changed. He runs headfirst into every situation destined to kill him. he won't stop until she's safe. it'll be a hard task for an old dimwit like him, but
i can help. he'll just have to let me.
