"Since we're undercover, you know what I need? A disguise shell . Something… mysterious." Glint hovered eagerly over Crow's shoulder, his shell flaps tilted encouragingly. "We should go see Tess ."

"First of all," Crow muttered, "we're not undercover. This mission is reconnaissance, not infiltration."

"Of course," Glint chirped, "but—"

"Second of all," Crow continued, "I'm the one who needs a disguise, not you. Nobody knows who you are."

"That's not true," Glint protested. "I've been around for hundreds of years! I've met everybody."

"As 'Pork Bun' or whatever it was," Crow gently teased. "Nobody in the Tower knows you have a new Guardian."

Glint whirred in a low tone, which Crow had learned to interpret as grumbling.

The Awoken Lightbearer ignored his Ghost's petulance and checked the position of the sun. He moved a few feet further into shadow before refocusing his attention on Commander Zavala. The last thing Crow wanted was for the Titan to spot the binoculars' reflection.

It had been like this for the past week. During the days, Crow would cover Zavala from afar with his Sniper Rifle, vigilant for any unusual transmat signatures or the faint shimmer of cloaking tech . At night, when visibility was restricted, the pair would creep into the Tower and act as the commander's invisible bodyguards.

Crow burrowed further into his new Hunter cloak. It really was a beautiful garment, he thought. He admired the fine fabric, chosen by Glint and gifted to him by Osiris. Recalling their generosity made him feel suddenly guilty about his stinginess.

Crow sighed. "Fine. After this mission, once we know Zavala is safe, we can get you a disguise."

Glint scooted in front of Crow's face, his mechanical iris suddenly magnified through the binoculars. "Can we really?"

"I suppose," Crow murmured as he tilted his head to see past the bobbing Ghost. "But not because you need it."

"Because we're friends," Glint stated matter-of-factly.

"Sure. Rare friends. Maybe even cheap, legendary friends." Crow smiled at his Ghost. "But not exotic friends. You'll have to find a new Guardian for that."

"You're the best," Glint hummed encouragingly. "No matter what Lord Saladin says."

Crow snorted at the mention of the Iron Lord. "We're all on the same side. Sooner or later, Saladin will realize it, and start treating me like a real Guardian."

"Don't worry," Glint chirped, "with the legendary Pork Bun by your side, how could he refuse?"