[destiny] log:theta

[tanyart]

Fandom: Destiny (OCs)
Rating: PG
Summary: Theta finds its Guardian. Both of them get used to being alive again.

Theta finally finds them.

The light frequency pings loud and clear despite the bare fragments washing up along the shore. Theta doesn’t have to collect all the microscopic dust and particles of the long dead human but a piece of bone turns over in the sand, flashing white and smooth, a pebble eroded by the sea. A quick scan doesn’t tell Theta much, other than that it’s very old, but it’s core spins in am excited circle. It’s heard of other ghosts who find whole bodies—mostly exos shells—or skeletons covered in moss and dirt, but a tiny piece of bone feels momentous.

Theta matches itself with the frequency, pulling and pulling until it gathers enough light to shape it into something living. Something that will be better than forgotten dust and grains of sand.

The air bursts in a bright flash. A human spills out into the waves, stumbling forward with the ocean before digging their hands into the sand to steady themselves as the water retreats. Their shoulders stay rigid for a second—one breath in, one breath out—before they glance up to look around.

Their gaze passes over Theta with a flicker of awareness, more wary of the quiet beach and the dense line of palm trees further inland. Nothing stirs, and after a moment, the human relaxes and turns to Theta, eyes vivid and glittering with curiosity in the morning sun.

“Hello,” says the human, voice a measured baritone but friendly enough. Water trickles down their face from their black hair. They don’t seem to mind, all attention focused on the ghost.

Theta analyzes the human’s body language, wanting to know how to best proceed. Judging from the way the human sits with their legs tucked beneath them, unbidden by the warm waves lapping over their bare feet, they aren’t bothered by much. Calm, clearly a little confused, but patient.

“Hello,” Theta replies with a happy chirp that it can’t suppress. “My name is Theta. You are my guardian, and I am your ghost.” A pause. Theta blurts out, “I’m glad to have finally found you.”

Its guardian smiles, and Theta feels a burst of static in its sensors, seeing that smile. “Nice to meet you. You’ve been looking for me? For a long time?”

“Yes,” Theta says, not sure how the guardian knows—but it’s just like how they simply know the universal language, or how to walk, or later use the weapons they will end up looting from the things they will kill. “You are on earth, very far from The City. I will show you the coordinates when I transmat a helmet on you.”

The guardian nods, satisfied with the short explanation for now, and moves to stand. Theta had risen them in light clothes, old pieces it had scavenged over the years from searching. The shirt is a poor fit, snug around their broad shoulders, and pants dripping from sitting in the water. Theta makes an internal list of small details and measurements to save for later.

It had thought—maybe a hunter, with that flash of curiosity when the guardian first appeared, or a warlock, sharp intelligence threading beneath their private observations. But—a titan, clearly. Theta can sense a wall of calm in the guardian, something that can easily turn into focus and ruthlessness.

It swaps the damp clothes for armor, a sturdy chest plate, reinforced gauntlets, helmet, and finally a piece of heavy cloth draped on one side of the hip.

The guardian isn’t perturbed. They are already blinking commands into the HUD.

“Ah. That’s better,” they say, though they give themselves away by pulling up the armor’s specifications in their screen—mostly turning the scans around. Their lips pull into a critical frown.

Theta is delighted by the vanity more than the white lie of politeness. It wants to know more about its guardian. “We’ll find better armor,” it promises.

The guardian ducks their head, embarrassed at being so obvious, but they straighten hopefully. “Yeah?”

“It’s a long walk to the City, and we’re going to have to find a ship eventually but we’re bound to find something before then.”

The titan isn’t daunted at all. They let out a quiet laugh that sends another joyous burst of static through the feed. A hand cups beneath Theta’s shell, not hesitating to give an acquainting touch that Theta knows will be habit.

“This way,” Theta says, charmed, and taps a reassuring panel against their fingers. It flashes a waypoint in the HUD and fades from its corporeal form.

The titan’s hand still hovers in the air, uncertainty lingering in their posture until Theta pings the waypoint again. They blink, taking a few steps in the right direction. “Theta?”

A new tone of voice. Different. Theta analyzes their guardian. It doesn’t take long to reevaluate the situation. If it could blush, it would. It’s never felt mortified before.

“Guardian,” Theta says, reappearing above the titan’s shoulder. “I’ll be with you, even if you don’t see me.”

A soft sigh from the helmet and one more step forward. This time, more confident. The guardian doesn’t say anything when Theta disappears one more time.

They’ve got a long ways ahead of them, Theta thinks happily, and a lot to learn about each other.

---

Theta knows the first death is always the most difficult. Its downloaded the psychological research on it, straight from the Tower. Their titan fights the Hive with a desperate amount of determination. The guardian’s biochemistry is oversaturated with adrenaline and acid build-up, strung tight with stress and fear. At first, Theta thinks their guardian is terrified of the Hive, but after observing their furious stare against the eerie glow of alien eyes and teeth, Theta surmises the fear must stem from somewhere else.

The guardian flinches when a knight’s sword cleaves down their arm. Theta attempts to repair the limb and internal shields, but it knows it would be better if their guardian were to die instead.

“Let it cut you in half,” Theta instructs, and it doesn’t mean for its voice to sound emotionless and cold, but it’s been so long that its interacted with any being that hadn’t been another ghost. “You will die, but I will bring you back to life.” Theta’s core whirls, flustered beeping faint. “I’m sorry, it will hurt.”

The guardian stops trying to scramble away from the knight. “I’m already hurting,” they say.

And then the knight’s sword comes down on them. The guardian’s jaw clenches, but there’s still a muffled whimper from within their helmet that only Theta can hear. It takes too long for the guardian’s light to flicker out, so stubborn until the end, but Theta is able to fly away with its guardian’s spark and that’s all that matters.

It never wants to hear its guardian make a noise like that again.

Ironically, there is more wonder in the second time their guardian gets resurrected. The titan reappears with the same burst of light, landing more surely on their feet than the first time.

They lift their rifle. There is a smile in their voice, a bite of viciousness that cuts the air. “So I can’t be killed?”

“You can die many deaths, guardian, but I will resurrect you each time.”

This is not strictly true, but there isn’t time to caution the guardian before they jump back into the fray. Theta knows it will have to clarify the vague specifics where the light will not reach them.

The Hive knight dies, neck broken and crumbling flesh riddled with bullets. The guardian dies as well, triumphant grin splitting their face before their body crumbles. Theta resurrects them.

After that, death is only another tool to use. Theta’s guardian doesn’t hesitate to jump off cliffs to avoid a tedious fight, but more often than not they charge headlong into a battle no mortal can win.

They are brave. But it doesn’t feel quite right to say it aloud. Maybe it isn’t bravery. Theta hesitates to call it foolhardiness.

It almost can’t figure it out until a week later when it finally detects a patrol beacon and the guardian’s heart rate increases, respirations growing short with carefully controlled excitement.

“The beacon is old. It might not work,” Theta warns, but their guardian looks so tense it vows to do anything to get it fixed if it is broken. It opens a channel, transmitting a code to the nearest Vanguard outpost.

It takes five minutes before a cheery reply crackles through the comm.

“Oh-ho, a new one!” the on-call hunter says, “Standby, Titan. Coming around for pick-up. Give me about ten minutes. Over.”

The titan goes still, straightening at the sound of the hunter’s voice, and then they sink down to their feet, breathy laughter escaping from them.

Theta knows it can survive with only the company of their guardian, but the same might not be true in reverse. It realizes now how lonely the guardian must have felt.

“Are you excited?” Theta ventures.

“Yeah?” the titan says, peering up at it. They smile. “I can’t wait for us to meet her. She sounds fun. Oh, and I heard you called her a hunter. What was all that about? Hey. Why are you spinning? Are you laughing? Theta—”

---

The hunter is a lanky awoken woman with a bright eyes and an even brighter laugh. She isn’t the usual kind of hunter Theta expects, but at least she is nice. Its guardian warms up to her quick enough, though it might be because she is the only other guardian its titan has met.

“Hey there, titan! I’m Noore,” she says, transmating from her ship. Her cloak is deep blue and half-length. She wears it well.

“Hey,” the titan says. “Thanks for coming. Listen, I don’t know much, but I’ve been listening to Theta and reading up on—”

“Yeah, I get it,” Noore says, reassuring. She claps him on the shoulder, three solid pats that must weigh nothing to the titan. “Don’t worry. It’s practically my job to keep a lookout for new guys who get resurrected in the middle of nowhere like you. It’s why the Vanguard likes to rotate us around every month or so.”

“Huh,” they say, thoughtful. “Sounds fun.”

“Nah. It can get a little boring at the outpost. I’m glad you showed up on the radio. Finally gave me something to do! C’mon, I’ll have my ghost transmat you up, if your ghost doesn’t mind.”

Theta, choosing to stay in its incorporeal form, pulses a reassuring wave of light.

Their guardian says, “No, it doesn’t mind.”

“Great! So, uh, titan. Before we go, what should I call you?”

There is a long, bewildered pause. Theta springs up, alerted by a sudden spike of anxiety. It is the first time it has ever seen its guardian truly panicked and distressed. Theta bumps against their cheek, feeling guilty. It hadn’t meant to neglect such an important social identifier, and apparently the titan hadn’t thought of it either—or maybe expected a name to be given to them.

Noore tips her head to one side.

“Ah, well. You can tell me later,” she says, surprisingly gentle. She waves her hand, signaling her ship to transmat them. “Alright. Up we go!”

It takes a couple of more hours, but Theta searches database after database, offering lists of inspiring figures and even old Golden Age heroes. They have at least solved the question of pronouns, thanks to Noore’s intricate card tricks.

“You decide,” its guardian says. They are alone in the quiet of the outpost’s bunker while Noore continues her patrol. “You found me, right?”

Theta’s core whirls.

“Tau,” it says, not too long after. It pauses, showing their guardian a projection of the symbol’s nature, however frivolous it may be. Tau is the very opposite of its own identifier, in terms of historical context. Theta finds it agreeable, but it wants to be earnest as well. “It is… an unusual name, for a human.”

But Tau blinks the screen away from his eyes. “Am I unusual?” he asks with the wry humor Theta is getting to enjoy.

“A little.”

Tau reaches out to clasp Theta in both his hands. “So it fits.”

Another burst of happiness—and for the first time Theta is unsure if it had come from Tau or itself.

“It fits.”