A mercurial gift: for one who seeks answers about the Dark.
"What is the Darkness?"
You open your eyes and gaze at your cloak, seeking an answer to your question.
It billows around you furiously, buffeted by roaring wind in a world full of L I G H T.
You see your Ghost clinging to it for dear life with bits of his shell.
"I thought you would never look back here!" Ghost shouts into your mind. "I've launched a battery of spectral scans off our position—what we're experiencing is real!"
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE REAL
"Or as close to real as these… beings can conjure!"
THAT WORD DOES NOT DESCRIBE US WELL. WE ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. AND LESS.
"The armor you found in ontological space—it's giving off the same energy signature I picked up when you asked the Nine about the nature of the Dark!"
Your Ghost grips tighter as the wind whips your cloak, rippling it like a kite.
"I think that question produced an ontological effect—one that hasn't fully resolved!"
THE LIGHT DESTROYS. GUARDIANS DESTROY. BUT GHOSTS REBUILD. THEY ARE A TANGENTIAL EXPRESSION WITHIN THE COMMON EQUATION.
"They're still trying to answer the question!"
A harsh glare blooms from the heavens above.
Something grips your hands, desperately shaking them.
Your soul is weary.
Your feet find purchase in shifting sands.