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Seventh Seraph Armor
 

Seventh Seraph Armor is an Legendary Hunter, Titan, and Warlock armor set that was available during Season of the Worthy. It could be acquired from Engrams, seasonal rank up awards, and clearing Seraph Bunkers.

Seventh Seraph Cowl / Helmet / Hood

"How many of these damn things are there?"
— First Lieutenant Artur Voronin

Lore

Chapter 1: Out for Delivery

Voronin nearly dropped the munitions he was carrying, which would have been a disaster for everyone in the vicinity. Certainly not as bad as whatever calamity they were prepping for, but bad enough to warrant the panic that coursed through his body. He hated these kinds of assignments.

"Hey, Morozova!" Voronin called out to his ranking officer between heavy gasps. "Any idea where all these are going?"

Morozova carefully placed her container on the ground, as if she was laying a child to bed. "No clue. Word just came from on high to double-time it, though. Something about Titan has got everyone spooked."

Voronin removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow. Titan? What the hell happened out there? Comms had been spotty and the orders that did get through were light on details: Procure munitions. Transpo munitions to coordinates provided. Stockpile munitions. Repeat. No HMMWVs either. This was meant to be low profile, staying off the roads.

Where was all this firepower going, and what were we going to do with it when it got there? Voronin picked up his container and his pace.

He trudged just shy of a click behind Morozova for what felt like hours. These containers were cumbersome and it was the height of the driest summer he could remember.

When they reached their destination, they received a cursory greeting from Bykov, who was busy compiling a list of all the deliverables. Two soldiers, whom Voronin didn't recognize, were placing the containers in the mouth of a shaft that protruded from the ground. One punched in a command and the shipment vanished below the surface with a hollow pneumatic "whoomp."

"Where does that go?" Voronin asked. Bykov's brows drew together and his expression hardened. He returned to his list.

"Ready for the next round?" Morozova posed with more spunk than Voronin could muster in a year.

"If we must."

The sky grew gray, and clouds formed overhead as they left. Procure, repeat.

Seventh Seraph Grasps / Gauntlets / Gloves

"Not far now."
— Armor description

Lore

Chapter 3: For a Friend

Voronin found cover under uprooted trees and demolished vehicles as he made his way through the catastrophic weather. He could hardly believe he was still alive, bearing witness to the end of all things.

The storm encompassed the station, under siege from the elements. Civilians were being ushered toward the SMILE pods in droves as the lightning made its presence felt, igniting a nearby fuel supply. The explosion tore into the group, and as Voronin turned his head from the horror and the heat, he saw her. Roughly 250 meters away from the station. Morozova lay, singed and smoking, under rubble and ash.

Voronin pulled up his sensorium, but the electromagnetic fields in the air reduced it to static. There was no way to know if she was still alive or salvageable. She had treated him with respect despite outranking him, and she had been there for him when his marriage went to hell—

"We're all dead anyway," he thought and ran to her through the maelstrom of lightning and wind.

And then he was there, pulling off his gloves and wiping ash and blood from her face, as the storm bore down upon him.

As he made peace with his mortality, just shy of 82 years old, the storm around them calmed. The lightning stopped. The wind died. At the station, the civilians' eyes were fixed on the sky, though Voronin was looking only at Morozova. She was breathing, barely. Her eyes opened and met his. A half-smile came across her lips, then froze as her eyes went past him and widened in awe.

Voronin turned and found himself staring into the face of God.

Seventh Seraph Vest / Plate / Robes

"Bereft of guidance and sanctuary."
— Armor description

Lore

Chapter 2: Crashes

The first bolt of lightning sent static up Voronin's arm and filled the atmosphere around him with a pungent chlorine-like smell. His hand went to his chest without thinking, as if to make sure he was fully intact. His gaze shifted as a second bolt hit the ground near him, then another. He had never seen lightning so close before. Stunned, he stood his ground; while part of him knew he should be frightened for his life, he was more perplexed than afraid.

There was no rain. He looked toward the horizon, expecting clouds, expecting something, and only saw a shimmering curtain of blue lightning sifting toward him.

He raced for shelter in the surrounding field, abandoning his munitions container in the dust kicked up by his fevered stride. The strikes razed the ground, sparking wildfires and scorching stone. There was no logic to their timing, with bolts crashing so frequently, the sound of the thunder couldn't catch up.

He'd lost Morozova in the commotion. Already drained from hours spent hauling cargo, his mind recessed into primal instinct. RUN.

So he ran, doing his best to avoid the apocalypse that surrounded him. A call came through his earpiece as the ground quaked beneath him: "… auxiliary evac station…" was all he could make out before a roar of thunder swallowed the transmission.

He knew he needed to head west toward the station. The wind picked up and blew him off his feet, and again he felt a moment of sheer amazement at the storm's sudden ferocity. He hit the ground hard and checked his sensorium. It was scrambled from all the sinuous electricity undulating through the air, but he could just barely make out his compass. West. He ran.

Seventh Seraph Strides / Greaves / Boots

"Salvation, at last."
— Armor description

Lore

Chapter 4: Face to Face

Voronin's mouth hung agape. His lungs forgot how to breathe. His heart rate accelerated, his stomach turned, and he weakly wondered if this was his transition to the afterlife. Somehow he found his footing and stood.

The Traveler, they called it. He had heard the stories from throughout the system, but never did he think he would live to see it. Now it was as though it was seeing him.

He took a step forward as if it would bring him closer to the oblate spheroid in the sky above him. He stumbled. The ground had gotten so hot under him, the rubber on his boots had melted. A banal thought cut through his awe—"Now I look like a fool in front of the Traveler"—and he was ashamed.

The sound of cracking thunder still echoed in the distance. That was when he noticed he was in the eye of the storm. It was wailing all around him, but calm in his general circumference. Surely this was the Traveler's doing. The great savior. He grabbed Morozova, unsure of how long this would last, and brought her to her feet. She was badly injured, bleeding from a wound on her leg.

"Stay with me." He said to Morozova and the Traveler at once. Only one of them listened. The Traveler was on the move, and the storm was returning.

Seventh Seraph Cloak / Mark / Bond

"You can't leave me. Not like this."
— First Lieutenant Artur Voronin

Lore

Chapter 5: Abhorrent Imperative

Voronin tied his armband tight around her calf to cut off the blood flow from Morozova's gaping wound. He tried to keep her leg clean while the wind caked them with dirt and debris. Lightning was drawing closer. The sterile scent of ozone had returned and he knew he didn't have much time. "COME BACK!" he shouted hopelessly to the God. He hoisted Morozova up, supporting her on his shoulder, and pushed back against the elements that were conspiring against him.

It was 250 meters to the evac station. Every step was a battle of attrition. At this point, the thought of coldsleep sounded comforting. He just had to make it to the SMILE pods. The storm had other plans. A nearby HMMWV was struck by a wayward bolt and the explosion threw them back. He felt Morozova torn from his side as he landed, and the sound of his skull hitting stone was louder than the thunder had been. As blackness crept into his vision, he saw the Traveler in the sky, moving away, abandoning him.

…and then he was being dragged from the wreckage and violence onto a gurney. "…Morozova?" he struggled out. He was met with an oxygen mask. His eyes darted, in search of some sign that Morozova was alive. Voronin couldn't decipher anything out of the pandemonium around him. "I'm sorry," he thought to himself while cursing the orb in the sky for deserting him.

The last thing he remembered before they placed him into coldsleep was an explosion in the sky so bright it blinded him.

List of appearances

References


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