It was going to be a hard won battle, they might be wounded, there might be casualties, they needed to call for back-u--
It was over.
Like a snap of the fingers, Vex fell all at once, Declan and Mac and Aoba all back to back to back, the two Guardians working easily in tandem from years of serving together, knowing instinctively that they each needed to use themselves to shield Aoba...and then silence. A few crackles, pops and hisses, electric life ebbing away from metal corpses. All of the previous rage in the Titan started seeping out far faster than usual, like he was hemorrhaging anger from a wound caused by confusion. Mac was just as confused - moreso for having less warning and not being fully aware of Aoba's secret weapon - and turned slowly, looking over his shoulder at their peculiar addition.
"Well...shit."
Declan looked over at Mac, then turned to Aoba, looming there as the Warlock sidled off for a moment to make sure everything was dead, occasionally whistling with a mixture of awe and fear. What the hell had he just witness? Nothing he wanted to be on the wrong end of, that was for sure.
The Titan was less mystified, still more concerned with Aoba's presence, a big hand reaching out and gripping a badly singed part of the man's cloak, silently pointing out how dangerous it had been by drawing attention there.
"Are you alright?" was all he said, though. No anger or accusation, no complaining, no fighting. He understood why Aoba was there, even if he didn't like it. He did, at least, appreciate that the man sought him out and was determined to fight, too, when before he'd been so adamantly against it.
"Gatelord head?" Mac asked from a few yards away, prodding a dead Vex with his foot.
"Yes. I still need it...but at least we don't have to go through all these troops," Declan answered, looking across the clearing at a sparking gate.
"I'll take care of it. You two uh...sit tight..." Mac mumbled, feeling a bit awkward as he jogged off towards the gate, his Ghost materializing at his side.
no subject
It was over.
Like a snap of the fingers, Vex fell all at once, Declan and Mac and Aoba all back to back to back, the two Guardians working easily in tandem from years of serving together, knowing instinctively that they each needed to use themselves to shield Aoba...and then silence. A few crackles, pops and hisses, electric life ebbing away from metal corpses. All of the previous rage in the Titan started seeping out far faster than usual, like he was hemorrhaging anger from a wound caused by confusion. Mac was just as confused - moreso for having less warning and not being fully aware of Aoba's secret weapon - and turned slowly, looking over his shoulder at their peculiar addition.
"Well...shit."
Declan looked over at Mac, then turned to Aoba, looming there as the Warlock sidled off for a moment to make sure everything was dead, occasionally whistling with a mixture of awe and fear. What the hell had he just witness? Nothing he wanted to be on the wrong end of, that was for sure.
The Titan was less mystified, still more concerned with Aoba's presence, a big hand reaching out and gripping a badly singed part of the man's cloak, silently pointing out how dangerous it had been by drawing attention there.
"Are you alright?" was all he said, though. No anger or accusation, no complaining, no fighting. He understood why Aoba was there, even if he didn't like it. He did, at least, appreciate that the man sought him out and was determined to fight, too, when before he'd been so adamantly against it.
"Gatelord head?" Mac asked from a few yards away, prodding a dead Vex with his foot.
"Yes. I still need it...but at least we don't have to go through all these troops," Declan answered, looking across the clearing at a sparking gate.
"I'll take care of it. You two uh...sit tight..." Mac mumbled, feeling a bit awkward as he jogged off towards the gate, his Ghost materializing at his side.
"I'm sorry, Aoba. I just wanted you safe."