'Come on come on come on!' The lone Ghost shouted to itself. They were running, well, floating away from a group of Fallen. They made an unfortunate pass through Fallen territory on Venus. The Fallen, being the territorial beings they are, are currently hunting down the Ghost who dared encroach on their territory.

It did not help that one of the Fallen managed to clip their shell with a stray Arc round. They were pretty sure it was a Dreg who managed to score the hit. The Ghost also had to avoid other Guardians, otherwise known as Warlords.

These Warlords are among the first 'Risen', the first ones to receive the Traveler's blessing, and that was where it went wrong. They became power-hungry and began to kill off any other Risen they came across. This was mostly confined to Earth, not Venus. Most of the Risen were on Earth as most of them died during the Collapse.
The Ghost heard the signature chittering of the Fallen. They were hunting the Ghost. The Ghost didn't have a lot of places to go to. The cave they were in was a cold, dark, damp, and rather unpleasant place to be. There was a little crack in the ceiling, but that would mean stopping all momentum and flying up at a slower pace.

'Better make a move' The Ghost thought to itself. The Ghost flew up and squeezed through the crack and made it outside in the swampy marshlands of Venus. The view was incredible. It looked so pristine. It was very much a sight for sore eyes. The trees that managed to survive the Collapse swayed in the light breeze. The Ghost felt a tingle shoot down their shell. It wasn't the Fallen, no. It was something else.

Realization dawned on the Ghost; they found their Chosen. After searching for so long they finally have a clue as to where they were. Now the hard part, getting them up and finding a place to hide while the Fallen chase them.

No sooner as they started flying forward, a gut-wrenching roar drummed against the Ghost's audio receptors. The Ghost whirled around to see a couple of Fallen patrols within one hundred meters of the Ghost.

"Oh boy, this is quite the predicament I've gotten myself into. Why can't they just leave me alone?" The Ghost rotated their shell as they flew out of sight, towards their Guardian. Their other half.

Okay, that's a little cliché, but in the Ghost's defense, from the feeling other Ghosts had described to them, they made it seem like it was happily ever after. Yet, for some who were captured and tortured by the Warlords, it was not a pleasant experience.

Arc shots whizzed by the Ghost, snapping them out of their trance, "Hey, I did nothing to you aliens. All I did was pass on through looking for my Chosen!" it shouted, dodging shots. Unbeknownst to the Ghost, the Fallen were only after it because they want to see if they would heal their Archon.

This Fallen House has crash-landed on this planet, not knowing the reason for it, but amidst the crash, one of their most trusted Archons was injured covering some of the younger Fallen from the wreck. The little ones made it out fine, but some of the Archon's ribs were broken, borderline shattered. It takes a lot to break a Fallen's bones, let alone killing an Archon. They were aiming at the Ghost to 'subdue' it.

This Fallen House named themselves House Angel. This is one of the peaceful Fallen Houses, much to the dismay of their race. They have no malicious intentions The Dreg only shot at the Ghost because it was spooked. As most Dregs are.

"Gotta find my Chosen!" The Ghost strained its voice. Oh no. Their power was low, they needed to find a safe place to rest, but with these damn Fallen hovering over them, they really couldn't do much.

They kept flying to the soul they feel a strong connection to, while also, unfortunately, leading the Fallen to them. The Ghost weaved in and out of the dense forest and low hanging vines, to find an abandoned village. This must be one of those old villages from the Golden Age! The Ghost felt the spark getting stronger. It was that light at the end of the tunnel, the salvation for all Ghosts.

Some of the houses in the village were old, archaic, and some were falling apart as the years of abandonment took its toll. One of the houses, that remained structurally sound, was screaming at the Ghost. "My Chosen is in there, I'm sure of it," Ghost said aloud.

It hovered into the house as more warnings flashed on Ghost's systems. They needed to find their Chosen, otherwise, they would be forced into a sleep mode of sorts. One that would take longer to wake up from if they didn't do it manually.

The spark was flaring and basically calling to the Ghost like an ancient Siren. It felt like the soul was singing lullabies to Ghost. Ghost searched every single room until the final room revealed a bedroom. The old paint on the walls was chipping, scratched, and ripped off the wall. There were posters on the wall, some of them covered in a thousand years' worth of dust. It looked that way with the amount that was all over the room.

The thing that stood out to the Ghost was the skeleton tucked into a bed, with the sheets having a slice right in the middle. Their chosen died in their sleep. The poor thing. Ghost decided to not leave them there as Light pulsed the Ghost's core before their shell expanded and the room became a blinding white light.

The Fallen pursuing saw the flash of light thanks to their nocturnal-like eyesight. They are able to pinpoint the exact location of the little machine they were after. They surrounded the house and waited for the machine patiently.

The Ghost sunk onto the sheets after feeling exhausted, that was before they heard a blood-curdling scream from none other than their Chosen. The Ghost's optic perked up and saw their Risen clawing at their now armored chest. That was when the Ghost realized that they didn't get the chance to scream in agony when they were killed.

"Relax, my Chosen. Please. I'm here to help you," Ghost cooed. Their chosen stopped their movements and hid under the covers. Rolling its optic, the Ghost slipped in between the opening in the sheet and looked at their Risen closely.

The Ghost scanned their quivering form before realizing how old they were. This was merely a child, no older than thirteen, "You're really young… Traveler almighty, what have I done?" Ghost chastised itself. "Someone like you is too pure for this world." Ghost hovered in front of their face, noticing the child's features. They had different color eyes and short straight hair. Ghost found out later that their eyes are the result of Heterochromia. One eye was a deep blue, while the other was a murky brown, with a tinge of light green. "I'm not going to hurt you, but we need to leave. I will explain when I am able. Nod yes if you understand me."

Their Risen nodded, "Good we need to go, the Fallen are all around us. We need a safe space." The Ghost scanned their Risen again and transmatted their helmet on them. The Risen let out a small shriek of surprise. Ghost chuckled at their reaction. They would have more time if they weren't in the middle of a village surrounded by Fallen. Ghost's scans revealed an open window, "Chosen, this way," Ghost floated to the window, waiting for their Risen to make it out of the destroyed bed.

The Risen didn't know what was going on. All he knew was that he was killed, and now he's alive and this floating thing was talking to him and they had something called the 'Fallen' around them and they had to leave. He had many questions, but those would have to wait. As he stepped onto the floor, his legs gave out. Not using them for a long time causes you to lose muscle memory. The Risen had used his little arms to push himself up but struggled to stand.

He was pleading to the floating object to help, but realistically, what could it do. It certainly couldn't lift him. Not without assistance. "Brilliant idea," said the Ghost. In a flash, a huge bike appeared in the middle of the room. The child clinging onto it and with what remaining strength he had, he pulled himself over the seat, perpendicular with the handlebars. "Hold on to something," Ghost said before disappearing and the engine roared in the vehicle.

They blasted off away from the village, where the Fallen weren't a hundred percent guarding, and slipped away.

That was until one Fallen Vandal had taken his Wire Rifle, aimed it at the moving object in the distance clicking its mandibles, and fire a shot of pure Arc energy and it drove a hole in the vehicle's engine before it went up in smoke.

The Risen child did not expect getting tossed off the vehicle and tumbling on the ground at such a high velocity. The wrecked vehicle landed on top of his small frame. His armor did nothing to protect him against the weight. The child attempted to get up but a burning pain in their gut halted all plans. He didn't even have the energy to scream.

He whimpered out one word before the world went black.

"Please."

...

This Idea was floating in my brain for two weeks. I have no idea if I should continue this. Let me know if you find this interesting at all.

Thank you

-Horus