For the longest time, the Exo Warlock of the fireteam Scarlet Dawn does not understand why she exists. She is like a human, but she’s not a human. She is like a robot, but she is not a robot. So, who is she?

What is she?

When she was first risen by her ghost, she didn’t think much of herself. She just stayed quiet, listened to her ghost, and do whatever it takes to survive.

She was always the quiet bookworm, at least that’s what she unconsciously knows. She doesn’t actually know what is a bookworm initially. She knows a lot of things about herself, but at the same time, her mind is a blank landscape.

The first thing she did when she was summoned by Ikora, as she is a new Warlock, was asking the vanguard commander if she could decide to not fight at all. Deep inside her heart, she knew what she was, and she was no fighter.

But the Last City needs its guardians, and she was unfortunately chosen to be one. Ikora understood her fears, so the Warlock Vanguard took the time to ease her into her role, to let her know that she is the hope of those who cannot fight. The hope to stave off all of humanity’s collective despair.

Of course, Ikora’s speech doesn’t work. In fact, it had quite the opposite effect. She was so overwhelmed by her newfound responsibility that her mainframe almost overheated. She hid that fact from Ikora, fearing the stoic woman would give her more ‘speeches’

After two weeks of slowly getting used to being a guardian, which she did her best to stay behind the lines as much as possible, she encountered her first existential crisis.

No, it was not when she first died.

No, it was not when a Fallen captain tore her limbs and killed her.

No, it was not when an Ogre smashed her to pieces.

It was during a celebration of a strike, her first strike, to be exact.

Her (temporary) fireteam and a few veteran guardians that had guided her took her to a bar to enjoy her sweet victory.

She would prefer to spend the time alone, in her bed, reading what little books left in this broken world, but she didn’t mind the company once in a while.

But after an hour or so, after drinking several glasses of alcohol, something snapped inside her. She looked at her fellow guardians, at the people in the bar. All of them. Human. Awoken. But no Exo.

She probably couldn’t explain to you why she felt the way she felt during that day, even until now.

Her mind turned inside out. Her ‘gut’ wrenches. It was like a Nova Bomb exploded inside her head.

Who...is she?

What....is she?

The people around her. They were enjoying themselves. But not just simple enjoyment. Their enjoyment came from having a living body made of flesh. A vessel that allows them to fully experience the world since they were born. A natural connection to the existence that birthed them.

She is not like them. She is an Exo. She was a machine with a fabricated mind of a long-dead person.

So, who is she?

Why did sheexist?

Whyishehere?whyisshealivewhatisthepurposeoflivingwhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

She promptly left the bar and stumbled back to her own room.

She took off all her clothes and stared at the mirror. Stared at her own body. S he knew Exos were once human, but their mind was transplanted into a mechanical body.

She never truly process the thought that this body, this shiny hunk of metal, is not her real body.

She could not remember what she originally looked like, but she knows, when she stared at her body in the mirror, that this is not her, that this is wrong. Wrong.

She has no breasts.

She has no curves.

She has nothing that resembles a woman.

She has nothing that resembles a human.

She has nothing that resembles her.

All of it came together at once, and it broke her completely.

Her existence was torture, and her mind is trapped in an immortal machine.

‘Tears’ fell down her cheek. Her body ‘trembled’ from ‘crying loudly’.

Her ghost was incredibly shocked to see her like this and tried to comfort her. But even after centuries of interacting with the other Exo guardians, they never have seen someone so...destroyed. So crushed by the weight of the realization of one’s twisted existence.

The last thing she remembered before passing out was her ghost telling her that they will be back after finding help.

When she came to, she was in the ward. There, she was given a diagnosis and a treatment for her mental and emotional pain.

But it wasn’t enough. They weren’t helping her. Her pain. Her internal torture.

She knew that her case wasn’t unique however rare it might be. She wanted it to work as much as her fellow guardians. She wanted to ignore the screaming recognition that she is nothing more than a metal puppet.

She tried. She would cry every night after that incident, and she would shout in agony towards any that questioned her attempt that she has tried. Her ghost felt more guilty with each passing night.

After two weeks of unending suffering, she decided it was enough. Only death will bring her peace.

She sneaked out of her room in the dead of the night into the Tower hanger. She knew there was a spot where the night shift would not notice, but is quite apparent during day time. It was the only time she felt confident in her short, second existence.

As she stands on the edge, she bid her ghost goodbye. She told them that she was sorry that she couldn’t live up to their expectations, and they told her that they were sorry for forcing her back to life.

They gave each other a bitter smile, even if ghosts couldn’t physically do that.

She aimed her hand cannon at her ghost. There was an odd sense of peace in her heart. She could finally rest in peace.

It was then when another Exo jumped onto the short platform she was standing on and asked what she was doing. Both the ghost and the warlock was shocked by the sudden intrusion. They made sure no one noticed them.

Before she could say anything, the other Exo pulled out a single rose and flirted with her.

He flirted with her while holding a rose.

He flirted with her with a rose.

He flirted with her.

It was a notion so alien and so bizarre to her that she laughed. She didn’t know why, but she laughed harder and harder. Her ghost was confused at first but eventually laughed with her. Even the other Exo started chuckling.

The other Exo sat down and invited her to do the same, and that he would be willing to listen to her troubles. As the clouds covering the brilliance of the Traveller floats away and the laughter receding, she managed to get a good look on the stranger.

It was the Hunter Vanguard.

Cayde-6.

She knew him, but she never talked to him or even get close to him. He was a joker of sorts, someone who is extremely carefree, at least from her perspective.

She sat down and stared at the Traveller. Just staring. She didn’t know what to say. Or rather, her mind is completely in disarray.

After a short awkward silence, Cayde decided to speak again. He told her a short story about that one time with a heist. At the end of the story, he subverted her expectations and delivered the punchline.

She laughed again, even louder this time. It was the first time she heard a joke as a guardian. The night went on like this. Cayde delivering one joke after another, and she laughed and laughed. All her negative thoughts were cast away like a cloud by Cayde’s windy jokes. A literal wind joke even. When dawn came, Cayde told her that, he’ll be here every night as long as she needs someone. She nodded, and the Hunter Vanguard resumed his duties.

For the first time, she felt...alive. She joined her second strike and to this day, she would tell you how ferocious she fought during that day. She transformed all her emotions into an unstoppable fighting force, and she didn’t even die once.

Her temporary fireteam invited her to go out again. She declined. Her haunted thoughts came back like a storm. She wanted to hide in her room again, but she remembered Cayde.

She went to the same spot, and there he was, sitting on the ledge with another rose and a can of...soda?

She was very curious about the soda and asked Cayde, and he immediately replied that he knew this was going to get her to speak to him for the first time. She was slightly taken aback but chuckled anyway.

She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell him about her problems, so she asked him to tell her more of his stories. And he did.

She looked at him with admiration and joy as time passes. Each night, they would come to the same place. Cayde would retell his adventures, and she would slowly talk to him about her day. He was always so supportive of her, praising her for every good she did.

She found herself to be less immersed in her pain with each passing day. Her doctor stopped checking up with her after he determined she had recovered enough, and Ikora was glad that she was healthy again. Her ghost was happy that she was finally well.

After her first successful raid, she finally decided to tell Cayde about her haunting thoughts. Before she started, she asked Cayde to not tell anyone about this, and he gave his word, which is then followed by a joke.

She laughed again and then slowly stayed quiet. After that, she started to let everything out. How she was conflicted about her identity, her position, and the meaning of her life. Cayde listened thoughtfully, to her ghost’s surprise, and remained quiet throughout.

She ended on the fact that, even though she has moved past her depression, she was still restricted by her thoughts as a machine that lived on as a specter of a long-dead human.

Then Cayde spoke. This time, he asked her and her ghost to not speak of what he’s about to say to anyone, no matter the circumstances. They both agreed. So he told her his story.

His story as the man they call Cayde.

He told her about Cayde 1 through 5. About how he was once lost like her. About Andal Brask. About Taniks. About the Vanguard Dare. About his fear. His hollowness. And his Ace and Queen.

She could feel that the both of them share a similar pain. She thought he was going to cry, but he just looked down. Just when she was going to say something, Cayde surprised her with a joke. She still feels kind of bad for laughing. Cayde laughed with her as well.

Cayde told her that everyone has a roar. Through every action they take, every good that they did, every struggle that they had in order to fight for what they believe, they roared their existence into the wide universe and let themselves be known.

He said that, even though there might never be a meaning in anyone’s existence, his roar would be enough for him. Knowing that he had done what he set out to do, there was no reason to pursue something that is unanswerable.

He had roared, and now, it is her turn to let others hear hers.

The sun rose, and they parted ways.

A few days after, he came to find her during the day. He then introduced her to an Awoken Hunter. One of his best, he said. The Hunter has been looking to establish a permanent fireteam for some time now and she heard how great the Warlock was as support behind the lines.

The Warlock had no reason to decline, so she shook hands with the Hunter. It was the beginning of a new friendship.

The following months consisted of them learning how to work together. As she spends more time with her new fireteam, her visit to the hanger becomes less and less. She still visits sometimes. When she does, they would talk about their day, and she would laugh at her jokes. Occasionally, Cayde wasn’t there when she drops by. And occasionally, she would find a rose sitting there without him. She didn’t see him as her fireteam leader did. A close friend. Or even a hero. She saw him as a father figure. Someone who was there to guide her through her darkest time and taught her what it meant to live in this world.

When a human Titan joined her fireteam, which is now a complete fireteam, her leader named their team.

Scarlet Dawn.

A force that would fight to bring a new hopeful day to the people of the City. And that’s what they did. They fought through many obstacles. No matter what strikes, raids, crucible that they face, they would always end up victorious. Doesn’t matter if it was Ghaul, Xol or Panoptes.

They became heroes. And Cayde would be there to celebrate their victories with them. Often also lamenting that he wish he could have joined them.

A few days after the Hunter found the mangled Thorn and the Titan found an artifact that would lead her to The Last Word, she found a letter.

From Shin Malphur.

The Man With The Golden Gun.

He had seen what her fireteam has done, and he decided to entrust the original Thorn to her because he believed she will know what to do.

She was equally delighted and terrified. She knew what he was capable of, and she didn’t want to mess it up.

She wanted to consult with her fireteam, Cayde, and Ikora, but decided against it. This is her path. She will forge this new weapon as something truly her own.

A weapon of light.

A weapon that will protect her fireteam.

A weapon that will spark hope in the hearts of people.

Coincidentally enough, the gun that she restored, after shedding away its darkness, shared the same name with the flower that initially gave her hope.

Rose.

After learning what Rezyl Azzir was like before he became Dredgen Yor, she knew what to do.

If Thorn symbolized twisted intention and malice unchecked, then she will make a gun that symbolizes something greater: the courage to choose the right path, even when it is unpopular or unsafe.

Her other fireteams have longed completed their quest in restoring the famous and infamous weapon before she could finish hers. Because there was no one to guide her, it took her a very long time to study how she would craft a weapon of light.

But after months of researching and infusing her light into the weapon, she finally did it.

Lumina.

A tool that she would wield to become a shining light in the darkness.

She couldn’t wait to tell Cayde and her fireteam that she has succeeded, despite their offhanded joke that she doesn’t know what she was doing.

Then, a message came through from her fireteam leader, who was still inside the Prison of Elders.

Cayde-6 was dead.

When she came to her senses, her ghost told her her mind blanked out for one whole hour from shock. She didn’t bawl her eyes out when she stood beside Cayde’s cold body. She silently looked at him, and her thoughts were of the times Cayde talked to her.

That night, after her fireteam leader told them they would head towards The Tangled Shore next thing tomorrow, she went to the new spot she and Cayde often meet after the original Tower fell.

She screamed.

She shouted.

She voiced out the most vulgar and horrific things she never thought would come out from her mouth.

Then she cried.

She cried, and cried, and cried.

Mourning for her father figure that she never got the chance to say goodbye.

She would never see him again.

She would never hear his silly jokes again.

She would never see that rose on his seat again.

During the following weeks, the fireteam fought tooth and nail to put down the Scorned Barons and find any clue they can that will lead them to Uldren Sov.

The Titan doesn’t know Cayde as well as the other two, so she was the first to voice out how vengeance has been consuming them.

The Warlock realized that this is not the path she should walk on, and Cayde would be disappointed to hear the ‘good girl’ on the team has been torturing. So, despite her anger and sadness, she stopped letting the thought of revenge controlling her. But, her fireteam leader was different. She couldn’t let go. Wouldn’t.

When she saw Uldren on the ground, with the Hunter pointing her Thorn at him, she was happy. And then she was disgusted as to how happy she felt when seeing an innocent man about to be shot dead. In the end, Uldren wasn’t in control of his actions, and he didn’t deserve to die.

She hoped that the very angry Hunter would not shoot him, but at the same time, the little devil in her heart whispered that she wants her to pull the trigger.

In the end, she was glad of her leader’s choice. To what degree, she might never know.

The Awoken Hunter finally broke down after they have returned to the Tower, and her fireteam members comforted and consoled her. They took a week off to recovered, all three of them. Mentally and emotionally.

When they went back to Banshee-44, he told them that they need to rebuild the Ace of Spades as it was thoroughly broken.

The Hunter took up the responsibility to rebuild her mentor’s gun. The two accompanied her to calibrate the gun using Austringer and finding Cayde’s stashes.

Eventually, they find themselves on Titan, about to recover the last of Cayde’s stashes.

When the Warlock heard his voice again, she almost cried but held back the desire to do so.

As they finished listening to the final message that Cayde left, their journey was over. They returned to the Tower, handed the parts to Banshee, and he finished reassembling the gun. The Hunter put away her Thorn in the vault for good and started wielding the Ace of Spades.

During that night, the three of them sat in the same place where they would hang out with Cayde during the night.

She put a rose on his seat and placed Lumina on her side.

They talked about all the good times they had with the Hunter Vanguard. Every good thing. Every bad thing. They even tried his favorite drink, but none of them could finish it.

The Hunter then told them what Cayde think of them.

He thinks the Titan is a gentle soul despite her hulking appearance and a ‘woman boner’, as he says it, for justice. But that he respects her dedication toward it. The Titan boomed with laughter at ‘woman boner’.

He thinks the Hunter is an outstanding guardian that could do better than him in many ways, but should probably let him keep his reputation as the King of Comedy in the Tower. The Hunter broke a dry, but genuine smile.

And for the Warlock, he said that she is a kindred spirit, and he enjoyed her laughing at his jokes every time, and he would not get sick of it. He also said she should definitely not become someone as boring as Ikora. The Warlock chuckled.

As the night went on, she remembers what Cayde once told her about his roar. She wishes she could tell him that everyone in The Last City heard it. Loud and clear.

She stared at the absence of her dear friend that she will never forget, at the fireteam that she went through hell and back with, at the imposing Traveller in the sky, who gave her a chance to burn brightly for others who seek for hope in the darkness.

And finally, she looked at the Weapon of Hope she crafted, as a symbol to Cayde that she has found her roar.

She knows, whatever that may unfold in the future, there is meaning in her roar.