Osiris and Saint stood on a Tower platform overlooking one of the six paths into the City. The road beyond the wall still burned with scorching pits of blue flame.

“Vanguard Commander Saint-14,” said Osiris. “What a ludicrous title.”

“The Consensus wants a new leader in the wake of… all of this,” Saint replied. He shook his head as he gestured at the destruction beyond the City limits. “It’s time.”

“You’ll serve them well,” Osiris replied, manipulating a cube-shaped device into an array of smaller hexahedrons that floated between his fingers. Vex components, Saint thought.

“But… I’m afraid it’s not a title I can keep.”

Osiris looked up.

“Father has plans for me,” Saint continued.

“Giving up Commandership in one day? That’s a record. So go. Be a Titan for the Speaker. After this madness, they will need you to rebuild.”

“I put the Titan aside for this mission. I’m a soldier. There is… difficult work to be done.”

Osiris narrowed his eyes. “What has he asked you to do this time?”

“Take the fight to the Fallen. Seek them out beyond our borders, find them wherever they are. Strike first and hard.”

“This is precisely what I mean when I say the Speaker likes to lead you astray,” Osiris muttered to his cubes.

“You would not say that if you saw what the Fallen have done to our people out there. You’ve forgotten how to see.”

“The Fallen are not so different from us. How hard would you fight if the Light were taken from you?”

“Those stories ring false to me,” said Saint. “They are not a noble people. I’ve fought them, and so have you.”

“I have not fought them all,” the Warlock replied, pulling his hands apart to create an intricate web of hovering cubes and points of light. “They are nothing, no threat—not like the Vex. Not like the Darkness.”

Saint stepped close enough to breathe on Osiris. “Look past the wall, brother. Are you blind?”

Osiris folded the device into his palm and met the Titan’s gaze. “You know I’m the only one watching the whole canvas.”

“But you’ve lost sight of why we fight.”

Osiris turned away and tossed the cubes again to form a miniature constellation in the twilight sky. “As ex-Commander, you have the power to dictate a replacement, should you choose. Who’s it going to be?”

“I have recommended you for the position of Vanguard Commander.”

Osiris turned back. The cubes hung listless in the air.

“You want to give me control over the databases? The Vaults? Jurisdiction over Owl Sector, access to the Last City grimoire?”

“I want you to protect our people,” Saint said. “For all our disagreements—you’re one of the few who can.”

The Warlock stared at the Titan with an unchanging expression.

“We don’t have the resources to do this twice,” Saint continued. “I fought representatives of every House across this conflict. It was a joint effort to exterminate us. If threat should come to the City ever again, you’ll have to fight in my stead.”

“I accept,” Osiris said quickly.