Venus. It was a world that could never support life in its storms and toxic gases.

At least, not before the Traveler came.

The Traveler's arrival brought hope to the planet; cleansing the toxic gases and quieting the storms. Then it was open for humanity, whose arrival brought life here; grass and water aplenty. It became a garden world to the human race, the garden world. The endless green and thriving cities here earned the planet a name appropriate for such a crowning achievement of humanity's determination and boundless optimism: paradise. Nothing could topple this achievement.

At least, not until the Darkness came.

Its arrival brought the end of all things, for nothing survived the primal force of the Darkness's forces. Now one of the crown jewels of humanity's Golden age was overrun by alien hordes, and the ordered structures of the Vex. Life continues to thrive there to this day, but now in chaos. Sulfuric gases render it once again inhospitable to most life. But few would die from that before they were struck from the sky by the electrical storms high in the atmosphere.

Those that resided here now were not the rightful masters of the world. No, all that lived here were the dogs of the Darkness, and the maggots that scurried around in the dirt. For while humanity still lives in its truest and purest form under the Traveler's Light, there are other kinds of humans out here and beyond. Humans that have long since been distorted into unrecognizable filth by centuries of war. These humans would use old technology to survive, and take whatever they might from whomever they could to further themselves. Nothing was too depraved for them, no depths to which they would not sink.

Not even dealing with humanities own enemies.

High above the planet, where gravity had long since lost its effects and the only light could be found inside ships, there was a conversation underway. Two ships stared at each other, waiting for the other to make a mistake and be blasted into the cold embrace of space.

One belonged to the Fallen, of the formerly mighty House of Winter. A ramshackle assembly that nonetheless carried an impressive suite of cannons. For while the Fallen had been poor at seizing new territory, they could hold onto what they had.

The other ship was of the Grineer, the lost children of humanity. Their ship was more refined, yet clumsy in its own way. It had tough hulls with tougher guns, which were not known for their accuracy. The Grineer had little need for accuracy. They believed in quantity over quantity. Their ships were found to be unimpressive when by themselves, and unpleasant to look at.

Nobody found Grineer ships more revolting than the Fallen. After all, half the parts on that ship were originally theirs to begin with. It was a desecration, the fusion between their technology and the Grineer's, all being piloted by beings who should have been exterminated years ago.

Yet neither side was here for war...

It had been twelve hours since Reisen's arrival. Twelve long hours on the universe's dustbin. Waiting for a deal that by all rights should've happened several hours sooner. He'd been hunkered in a cave the whole time, expecting the Grineer and Fallen to land on this stretch of land, the Ember Caves. He was in the middle of the House of Winter's turf and he had seen jack this whole time. This didn't make sense to him.

"For a Hunter, you seem to not enjoy the wilds much."

The chirps of the voice inside Reisen's head reminded him that he was never truly alone.

"I'll enjoy the wilds when I actually start hunting, not making up shapes in the clouds."

"...I don't think there are many shapes in the-"

"I know," Reisen sighed. He tapped his wrist, raising the display of the territory on his HUD. No red dots to be seen in this entire area. He felt his eyes narrow. That there were no Fallen in this spot may be a good sign. Perhaps they had cleared out the neutral territory for the deal. He looked down the cave, out to the glorious outdoors filled with crisp, toxic air that would kill a human in seconds. Truly a place only for the strong to survive, or for the stupid to die. Those wide open plains called to him. The realms of possibility, the open turf filled with cover and sniper perches, the tracks for racing in a Sparrow at top speed, and lots of things to shoot.

"You know you can't go out there yet," Ginger said. Reisen rose from his gravel bed. If he felt the need to sleep he'd be very grouchy.

"I know," he replied.

"Zavala gave very clear instructions," Ginger said, with more urgency in her voice. Reisen picked up his sniper rifle, Patience and Time. It looked like old world tech but it kicked like the best of Golden Age weaponry. Nostalgia in its idealized form.

"So he did," he said.

"Are you even listening?"

"Yes."

Reisen moved up near the mouth of the cave. He was still covered in shadow, and had a clear view of the little valley where this deal was supposed to go down. It was dusty like most places on Venus, with little pools of toxic chemicals. But it was one of the few places where two ships could land and still have significant space between them. The little stretch of nowhere in the shade was situated so that he had a clear view of the whole thing. Through his scope he could make out every stretch of potential cover and sniper perch while remaining invisible himself. If everything went well this would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Disgusting fish, like giant talking Cuthol.

"So what did I just say?" Ginger growled.

Reisen lowered his scope. Now he felt like a fish.

"...That wizard came from the moon?"

"Reisen!"

"Ginger, its fine. I've got this."

"You don't know that."

"If I can handle half of what I've tackled, I can probably handle a little wet work. Tell me at what point in history Zavala managed to kill the Black Heart, or Crota, or stopped whatever the hell the House of Wolves was up to, and then we'll talk."

Reisen focused on his scope again over Ginger's objections. Unless his eyes were failing him, and that was quite literally scientifically impossible, there was no movement from his side of the valley all the way to the other side. A tap of a button switched the rifle to thermals, bathing the world in blues and greens. The toxic pools were bright red and left trails of heat. But besides those pools there was nothing except a few rodents, and torso-sized insects that lived off the thermal vents. Jack all.

So, that meant either the Fallen and Grineer had found a way to hide their common troops to hide from advanced weapon systems, or they hadn't shown up yet. Reisen was inclined to the latter.

Looking up proved equally fruitless. The ships would be too far outside the atmosphere to be visible even to him. It was a decent tactic; hold the initial meet up in space, away from the planet. The Fallen had set up their own anti-air batteries, and being out that far put the Grineer out of range. Plus they were both safely away from the Vex's firepower. Yet even those precautions couldn't have delayed this meeting that much. Maybe his target was nervous.

"Ginger, what's the name of this fellow again?"

A deep voice suddenly came in through the comms. "Guardian."

"Oh shit," Reisen muttered. It was a voice like the rumble of a ship engine. Zavala.

"Excuse me?"

"Zavala. Need an update?"

"Yes. Has the target been eliminated?"

"Nope."

"...Explain."

"Exactly what it sounds like. The deal hasn't started yet."

"But it was supposed to several hours ago."

"I hadn't noticed," Reisen replied. "Any word from other Guardians? Ship movements?"

"Negative. Our last report is from over twelve hours ago."

"Maybe they got skittish? Called it off? If there was a fight I'd know by now."

Reisen would kill to have a cloaking device on his ship for scouting situations like this. Maybe if he was lucky, everyone had been blown to smithereens and he could loot the wreckage. That'd be a worthwhile activity at least.

"That is very unlikely. The amount of communications we picked up makes this deal far too important for the Grineer to simply scuttle at the last moment. In fact this target is-" some static came in, smothering the last of the Vanguard's words. Reisen tapped the side of his head.

"Repeat? Didn't catch that last bit."

"Reisen, we're picking up-" more static. "-ming us. Stay on site, do not-." The static was deafening now. He cut the channel before it might actually make him deaf. Somebody on either side was jamming communications.

"We've lost him," Ginger said. "We're on our own for now."

"Come now Ginger, you must be used to it. You and me against the worlds."

"If I didn't know better I'd say you were happy about it."

"Maybe a little bit."

Reisen looked through his scope, no movement. At least not through the scope. The scope itself was shaking. He looked away from it, at the ground he stood on. Pebbles were shifting and vibrating. He could hear a soft rumble all around the cave. He looked out to the valley and saw other signs of that disturbance. The water in the pools, normally calm, were afflicted with waves. He saw dozens of rodents scurry along the ground before promptly vanishing down into their holes. Reisen decided to take a gamble.

He stepped forward until he was just barely outside the cave, where the only things obstructing his view were the gathering clouds of dust. To the north, his right, he could see the dilapidated buildings of old, covered in moss. Past the buildings, past the dust, and illuminated like a firefly through the thermal vision was the unmistakable shape of a Grineer ship; a series of metal spheres chopped and welded together along with a series of limb-like structures along its keel.

To the south, his left, there was nothing but the dusty brown skies of Venus over the arid deserts. From there he saw a Fallen vessel trundle along and over the wasteland. Its guns were retracted. Good. The meet and greet had already been done. All that was left was the trade between the two parties. The two ships were certainly approaching each other like they wanted to talk. Slow and steady, no sudden maneuvers, just a stare at each other.

"Reisen, there's something odd on that Fallen ship."

"Odd as in 'strange' or 'we're screwed' Ginger?"

"I'm not sure. Give me a minute to scan." The Ghost began chirping as it did its work, while the two ships approached the valley. Reisen reached into his pocket, and held tight was lay in there.

The Grineer shift turned a gentle starboard as it came close to the valley, while the Fallen turned to port. This sort of approach allowed the two parties a show of force; a gentle reminder that if the terms of the meeting were violated, violence would follow. It was odd to Reisen how the Grineer were even capable of negotiating. He had figured the Corpus would be making more deals with the Fallen, they certainly had the knack for business.

The Fallen and Grineer extended their respective landing gear. The roar of their engines sent dust scattering in all directions. The toxic pools were being emptied by the gusts, scattering the liquids all over the ground. Reisen's position was hit by the wave of dust, but it would not hinder his vision. No, nothing would keep him from a target. He would wait, and watch. The target would emerge soon, and he'd wait until everyone was out in the open.

Reisen pulled out the object in his pocket, a small metal rod with a red cap on its head. He set it down on the ground, and went prone next to it with his rifle at the ready.

The ships were already opening their ramps. Troops flooded out on both sides, weapons in hand. They lined up alongside the ramps. The Fallen had their standard entourage of Shanks, Dregs and Vandals arranged into two groups, one on each side of the ramp. The Dregs were double the number of Vandals, and took position in front of them and the Shanks. The Vandals and Shanks would provide covering fire for the Dregs, while the Dregs would keep the enemy from accurately shooting at the Vandals and Shanks by engaging in melee. A standard suite of Fallen troops.

Then, four Fallen Captains stepped from the ship's ramp. Two of each took up position behind their squads, blades in hands. To have this many Captains in this one spot meant that something very important was being traded today. They were not going to half-ass this.

To meet the Fallen troops, the Grineer had lined up their own forces. The Grineer's individual troops weren't at the level of Fallen. Unfortunately, they seemed to know this, and brought twice as many men to this engagement. A large company of Elite Lancers took what for Grineer would qualify as a formation. A few Gunmen were scattered throughout, carrying their Gorgon machine guns. Butchers and some Scorpions were placed in front of the Lancers, and Shielders were placed in front of both groups. No doubt quite a few Lancers carried Blunts for quick cover.

The standoff had begun. Aliens and mutants. Soon the faces of this deal would emerge.

"Reisen, I've completed my scan."

"Make it quick. This deal is happening."

"I've been unable to identify the source of strange energies on the Fallen ship. But I can tell you this; it's not Light. Well, not entirely. I'm not sure what it is."

"Useful," Reisen replied. "How intense is it? Are we talking a bomb? A generator?"

"No. Something much more powerful."

"Super."

The ramps were still open on both ships. The lights from the ramp of the Grineer ship fluctuated as figures emerged. Dozens of grunts carried large, black cases out to the meeting. The workers scurried out to the middle of the land between the ships, placing the cases in giant piles. That done the workers promptly ran back into their ship.

"That's odd." Ginger said. "Why don't the Fallen present any goods?"

"I'm guessing that whatever the Fallen have is worth all that stuff, and maybe even more."

"Oh. That can't be good, can it?"

That was how the more common dealings were done. Two sides lined up, presented their wares, and the commanders would emerge forth to negotiate and pick what they wanted for an eventually agreed upon price, or equal trade. Ideally both sides were left alive and everyone went home and happy. Things were usually not so ideal, especially when Grineer were concerned. The Fallen had desperation to justify their aggression, according to more sympathetic Guardians.

But the Grineer were mindless aggressors. They would kill anything that wasn't them, and even then they'd be inclined to shoot first. Maybe their aggression was due to a brain defect present in their entire species, maybe it was because of the Grineer Queen's reinforcing a hatred of all life. Who could really say?

But here, they had presented enough wares to fill Reisen's cargo bay and then some. For what? There was something they wanted desperately, enough to dump who knows what out there. The Grineer did not like to be denied what they wanted, and they solved such problems with gunfire.

So it was no surprise that the Fallen all looked nervous. Maybe the deal would go south and the Grineer would just kill them all. Maybe the deal would go well and they'd be killed anyway. He could feel the tension in the air.

Reisen almost wished there would be more open conflict between the two sides. They'd certainly do horrendous damage to each other, which would reduce the number of enemies the Tower had to fight. Then again it would reduce the number of targets for him to shoot.

And what was a Guardian without something to guard against?

Reisen found that question answered when he saw a Fallen step out of the ship. Taller than the rest, with a thick and heavy coat. On his head he wore a giant helmet with numerous spikes, and glowing yellow eyes. One of his right arms had been replaced with a cybernetic. His name was Vulkas, and Reisen was fighting the instinct to scoop off his head.

"Don't," Ginger warned. He relaxed his trigger finger. The proud Kell would not die, by his hand anyway. He couldn't speak for the Grineer or their commander.

Said Grineer commander stepped forth from their ship was clad in armor like boilers and ship hull pieces smashed together; a misshapen hunk of metal that nonetheless was tough to penetrate, even for Guardian weapons. A giant sword was strapped to his back, lined by teeth that reflected the light along its edge. This was Lieutenant Koi, if Reisen remembered that correctly.

The two strolled forth to meet. Captain and Lieutenant, staring at each other while their forces were prepped for a battle. One itchy trigger finger, one slip of the grip could ruin this entire operation, whatever it was. Reisen watched through his scope as the two leaders came to the two piles. Lieutenant Koi showed Vulkas a case of the standard Grineer Grakata. Then a case of Hinds. Then a case of Vulkars. More and more weapons were brought out and shown. On and on the display went, one case after the other.

"They're giving every Grineer gun we've every documented," Ginger said. "and more." Cases of arc traps were presented as well. And large chunks of minerals. Melee weapons aplenty, some of which actually looked intact. A crate of blunts were in there as well.

Then the Lieutenant reached for the largest, most heavy-looking case in there, so heavy he was putting real effort into pushing the case toward Vulkas, who looked content to just watch him struggle. Then the case was opened, revealing hundreds of metal rods lined by white lights. Vulkas pulled out one, inspected it, and then nodded. It was the genuine article. Ether. The Fallen's life-blood.

Without Ether, the Fallen as a species would die out. How the Grineer ever managed to grab a case the size of a truck, carrying hundreds of Ether rods was a mystery to Reisen.

But the bigger mystery was why his target hadn't arrived.

The Grineer Koi gave a little bow, only for Vulkas to point at him with a shout. Vulkas's garbled words were lost on Reisen. Koi raised his shoulders in a shrug, and Vulkas responded by growling some kind of curse, by Reisen's guessing. Curiously, Koi seemed to be apologetic, and waved to his troops at the ship to do something. A Lancer troop ran inside, and a few moments later several workers came out bearing bins filled with scrap metal. Very smooth and pitch black metal. Servitor scraps.

Koi gave another bow, and at this Vulkas also responded with a bow. Then the Kell reached into his coat, and pulled out an orange box. Reisen didn't need to be a genius to guess that was the special something. This moment was important. This, more than any other part of this trade was when you wanted to see the leader of your trade partner. This was when the boss of both sides would meet.

But the Grineer that Reisen wanted hadn't shown up. He was in the wind.

"Sscan that box, quick."

"Done," Ginger paused. "Reisen, that's the source of the energy."

"Good. I'm going to grab it, be ready to call in the ship."

"Reisen, our mission is to take out the target."

"Our target isn't here. If he wasn't there for the deal he's not showing up."

Vulkas seemed not to notice this oddity. He pulled open the box's lid, and a golden light flooded out of it. The Grineer troops were amazed by the sight. Some even looked relaxed. It rose up to the very clouds, and Reisen had to look up from the rifle's scope due to its brilliance.

"You're sure that's not Light?" Reisen asked.

"Definitely," Ghost responded. Reisen was inclined to agree. He could feel no touch of the Traveler's will from that box.

Lieutenant Koi was not among those who looked relaxed. He leaned in, yet kept a decent distance from Vulkas, who looked determined not to release the box without an agreement. Koi stared, and stared. He said something to Vulkas, and his head gave a slight twitch. It was minuscule, but it was there. Koi had done something he didn't want the Fallen to notice

"Ginger, run a sweep right now for Grineer frequencies."

Reisen heard a hundred different types of static before it settled on one channel. There was still static, but Reisen could make out words in it. He set his equipment to record.

"-they have it." Koi spoke in a voice like grinding metal.

"Good. Take it." Another voice replied. Deeper. Darker.

"Sir, they're giving it to us peacefully."

"At the cost of our weapons and Ether. We will not lose so much to these scavengers. Do you wish to disobey me, Koi?"

"...No sir."

The channel closed. Koi's body language did not betray his intentions. He gave a bow, much deeper this time. Vulkas closed the case and repeated the gesture before he held out the case. Koi's hands were steady as he reached forth to retrieve his prize.

Reisen grinned. "Oh no you don't," he muttered. He grabbed the rod near his rifle, and popped off the lid, revealing a switch. He flicked it forward half way.

Before Koi could touch the box, an explosion near the Fallen ship knocked both him and Vulkas off-balance by the shock wave. The ship itself was undamaged, but a few Dregs were vaporized by the blast, and a few more were knocked through the air like ragdolls.

Vulkas took the box back and kicked Koi, knocking the Lieutenant to the ground. Vulkas drew a knife, only for it to be shot out of his hands by one of the Ballista Grineer. He roared at their supposed betrayal of his trust, and his troops took that as a signal to open fire. The Fallen Dregs were already on the move, and the Grineer Butchers and Scorpions ran out to meet them. Vulkas kept the box close to his chest as Koi rolled away from a stomp to his head. Koi drew his fanged sword while Vulkas drew his swords with his remaining two arms, and they charged into glorious bloody melee.

Neither side would back down. This was too important to both of them.

Then Reisen flicked the switch the entire way, unleashing hell.

Suddenly all over the valley his landmines were going off, spreading dust and dirt all over the place. Balls of fire erupted beneath the Butchers and Scorpions, scattering them into a thousand bloody pieces. Reisen could swear he saw a head go straight up into the air, spinning all the while. That was new.

The explosions formed a disjointed circle around the battlefield. Clouds were swiftly forming in the madness, making Reisen switch to thermal vision again. He saw a burst of flame beneath the Grineer ships stern. Even over the gunfire he could hear the metal being ripped apart, the hull falling to the ground. He could see that what remained of the engines was now so much radioactive scrap metal that had crushed at least a dozen Elite Lancers. Those that remained attempted to regroup, only to themselves be vaporized by a ball of flame rising at their feet. That had to have been half their forces at least.

The Grineer that remained were firing wildly into the smoke. Neither side was making any real accurate shots through this dust. The battlefield had erupted into total chaos at the flick of a switch.

Reisen took aim at one of the two remaining Ballista. One shot was fired, and another Grineer fell to the ground. The Grineer in front of her did not notice her death. Nor did they hear the second shot from Reisen that killed their remaining sniper. Their last eyes through the dust were gone. No more eyes to aim, no more eyes to notice a Guardian.

Reisen rose to his feet and broke into a sprint. He dispelled Time and Patience, switching to his hand cannon Byronic Hero. He slipped around the rocks and boulders, keeping as straight of a line as he could to the box. He switched his visor to thermals, and saw that Koi and Vulkas were locked in combat. Fallen blood stained the sword, and there were several dozen gashes in Koi's armor.

Reisen kept his pace, the box would soon be his. He saw a Butcher running towards his Lieutenant, an intervention Reisen couldn't allow. He diverted his course with a left turn to intercept the Butcher. Just as the Grineer saw him, Reisen tossed a knife into his skull. The Grineer dropped to his knees, and before he could fall forward, Reisen's own momentum knocked him to his back with a shoulder check. Without breaking pace Reisen snatched the knife from his skull, and made a sharp turn towards the two combatants.

From behind Koi, Reisen could see Vulkas's swords laying on the ground, and Koi stood with sword raised high. Reisen emptied his magazine at the large metal helmet. Only one managed to pierce the armor, spilling blood. Koi roared in pain and lost his balance with his pained flailing, losing his sword.

With a cry Koi fell to his back. Reisen dropped into a slide towards Koi's sword. He gripped as he came to a stop. With his free hand he brought it swinging down at the Grineer's head. But Koi's hand shot up to catch it. The two metals clashed like the ringing of a bell.

Out of the corner of his eye Reisen saw Vulkas still on the ground.

"Guardian! sono ba horoi!"

Reisen pushed against Koi, but his considerable strength kept the blade from moving further toward his head. But the Grineer could only do so much. Reisen's pressure was pushing the blade down. He could hear the metal gloves bending, piercing into Koi's flesh. Koi didn't even grunt at such mutilation, the product of countless generations of Grineer genetic engineering.

It was then that Reisen noticed that the sword carried a little trigger at the pommel.

"Your Queens are next." Reisen pulled the trigger back, and the countless teeth in the blade turned into a blur of gnashing, slicing metal. The armor provided little help for Koi, it only slowed the cut that began to slice his arm in two, lengthwise. Blood splattered Reisens visor and his armor. He slotted his pistol to take the handle in both hands, and pushed down. The roar of the sword was deafening, and drowned out the last screams of Lieutenant Koi. Reisen pulled the sword out of the arm, then applied all his strength and swung, cleaving through the helmet and shoulders. Koi's corpse was left two mangled pieces.

Reisen wiped the blood from his visor, seeing the mess at his feet. It was a good kill.

The sword, still growling, found itself hefted onto his back, where it was attached thanks to magnetic pads in his coat. He quickly found the orange box on the ground, no doubt it had been knocked to the ground when Vulkas had.

"Ginger, 'port it to the ship. Now."

"Right." Ginger appeared in a blink of light. She scanned the box, then stopped.

"I need more time to that. This is very complex machinery."

"I'll do it the old fashioned way. Just store it with me. Is the ship en-route?"

"Yes, just head west, over that ridge." Ghost popped a little indicator on Reisen's HUD.

"Right." The box was bathed in light, then vanished into Reisen's inventory. Before he could begin his escape, he heard someone breathing. It was labored and pained.

Reisen turned to the source. Vulkas was still alive, but only just. His mask must've been punctured, because it was leaking a gaseous substance. Clear white fumes were flowing out despite his best efforts. That leak combined with the gases of this place were slowly killing the Fallen Kell.

Yet another member of a dying race, doomed to a slow and painful end. His troops away from him, and his weapons were unreachable in his current state. Vulkas was helpless.

Reisen turned away, towards the pile of weapons cases. The largest one had been knocked on its side. Several dozen Ether seeds were scattered about amid the gunfire. Some were shattered, but most were intact. He grabbed one and moved quickly to Vulkas's side. Vulkas either didn't care a Guardian was next to him, or he was too exhausted to fight back. Yet he was able to raise one of his hands, shielding his face further.

"Stay still," Reisen said. He reached to his coat and tore off a segment of cloth. He wrapped it around the Ether seeds head and readied the release button. With the Cloth acting as a protective shield against the gases, Reisen pressed the rod into the hole and stuffed the cloth in to fill what gaps there were. When he was sure it was done, Reisen pressed the rods release button. He heard a hiss from the rod as its contents were being released to Vulkas. The Kell's breathing was steadied, and he was able to look at him. Reisen took Vulkas's hand and placed it on the rod, then rose.

Before anything else could happen, Reisen made Vulkas eat dust and ran off in a sprint. The ground blended together as a tapestry of various shades of brown. Shots whizzed by him, yet he kept his course through the dust.

The dust grew thinner and thinner until he breached the cloud. The ground steadily rose and rose to a ridge. Reisen breached it and slid down the opposite side. Gravel scattered in his wake and hardened mud shattered. He deactivated thermals, bringing back the sight of a world illuminated by sickly yellows. He looked to the sky, where his ship was making a hard and fast intercept course. Its ramp was already extended and the door was opening.

Ginger chirped in his ear. "Jump...Now!"

Reisen lept, soaring through the air at the ship. It scooped him from the air before he could begin falling. He landed in a roll as the door and ramp closed behind him.

Reisen kept rolling until he slammed into the wall. He felt the ship turn upwards and upwards until it was going straight up through the atmosphere. The clear white walls of his cargo bay shook against the pressure of atmospheric exit. Within ten seconds the shaking grew gentler and gentler, then finally stopped. Reisen allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

The ship soon corrected itself, allowing him to stand on the floor and not the wall. He slumped against the wall of the cargo bay. He wasn't tired, but the excitement of his work left his blood pumping. Reisen smiled as he dispelled his helmet into stored matter. He felt the cool air of the ship on his skin, like the breezes in winter atop the Tower plaza. He allowed himself to bask in the moment.

He couldn't wait to get back to the Tower. Thor was going to be so jealous of his new sword.

"Ginger?" Reisen spoke. He rose to his feet and pulled out the orange box. Not a scratch.

"Yes?"

"Send an encrypted transmission to the Tower, target was not at the sight, took something he seemed to want. We'll be back ASAP."

"Will do." Ginger replied. "Why did you not have the ship teleport you inside?"

"And take the fun out of a daring escape? No thank you."

"Of course."

Reisen reached at the lid of the box, undoing the latches on its front. He pushed open the lid, and was met with the golden light of the contents. The light caused no discomfort for a being made of Light itself. He reached into the box and pulled out something that felt cold to the touch even through his gloves. The light faded as the item was removed from the box, and Reisen was left in wonder.

A construct seemingly made of pure gold, dotted with soft blue lights along its surface. Its ornate shape was not subtle by any means, and spoke clearly of the opulent civilization that had crafted such an object.

"Holy shit."

In his hands, Reisen held a Void Key.