The foundry is silent now. Shell casings litter the floor. They clatter away from the bootfalls of the Warlock Shayura as she weaves between the downed chassis of combat frames branded with the sigil of the Häkke foundry.

"Security is disabled," Shayura says over an encrypted channel. She's quick to cross the foundry floor, checking the disabled frames one by one as she progresses to a sealed vault door. The door's surface is marked with a glyph unfamiliar to her. It looks like a fish hook, or perhaps an anchor. "Is this what we're looking for?"

[[Confirmed. That's the same symbol on the weapon the Vanguard recovered from Seraph Station. Golden Age, possibly older.]]

Shayura extends one arm, wreathed in Solar fire, and manifests a searing white Dawnblade that she uses to cut through the door in a single stroke. Half of the vault door crashes to the floor and falls to the side, sizzling on a glowing hot edge. Shayura then floats into the air, drifting through the partial opening.

[[We need any records you can find. Anything where BrayTech and Häkke overlap.]]

Shayura dispatches her Ghost to scan rows of server racks containing decompiled engrams. Nearby weaponry is mounted on vault walls. Prototype firearms, alien weapons, unrecognizable technology from across Sol. A sniper rifle of Human design catches her eye; a red and gray body with some kind of thermal plating on the barrel. Her fingertips brush over the serial number stenciled on it: X-032782. It's an Ice Breaker. She remembers when the Vanguard commissioned this design from Häkke, remembers when it was outlawed for being "dangerous and unfit for duty." The design was later stolen and replicated.

Hefting the Ice Breaker from the wall, Shayura turns to watch her Ghost scan and download Häkke's archives. "Find what you're looking for?"

[[Skimming. I see some interesting details. Häkke's Golden-Age predecessor had a terrestrial office in what was once the city of Chicago. They were involved in the development of gravity-based weapons. No BrayTech connections yet.]]

Shayura freezes. "Chicago?" The tombs below Old Chicago haunt her periphery. Every ambient noise in the derelict foundry becomes a threat. She pushes past the fear, past the panic. That isn't now. "What does Chicago have to do with anything?"

[[I'm not sure…]] her handler on the other end of the comms says. [[But whatever it is goes back a long, long time.]]