Eris, tenacious Eris. Crota's Bane, Oryx's Sorrow. Ruin of Xivu Arath.

To see you reduced once again to a minion of the Awoken queen. Examining a locked gate for signs of weakness. Rattling the bars to the afterlife, when you might have kicked the door in!

This very plane could have been yours.

What you lacked in natural talent you fashioned from scholarly genius. Your will is the thing, and I mistook yours. How you burned with it! The noble vindication of victory.

Every sword ever raised against you—can I say, against us? Down through the long years of history. Vengeance killed Oryx, why not his sibling?

But you threw the match. What good is a mortal blow, half-delivered? You whet your blade and threw it down. The throne of war, abandoned. A thousand, thousand races fed that glorious polyp. All that hard-won evidence. You didn't even look at it.

I could have guided you. Don't you see that?

What will you do now? Kick down their banners? Hope for vengeance without bloodshed? And through what realms have you stamped the proof of your cause?

…I, too, avenged? Why would I want that?

Wait. Come back.