TYPE: LIVE SURVEILLANCE FEED
[CONTINGENCY RECORD]
PARTIES: One[1]. One [1] Ghost-type, designate Latif [la]
ASSOCIATIONS: Light; Hive; Deathsinger; Deathsong; Lysithea-3; Ghosts; Wuid
//AUDIO PRESERVED//
//TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS…/

[la:01] I’ve managed to lead the Hive away from Lysithea for the moment.
[la:02] Maybe we could’ve escaped together, but that Hive song… they were gaining too quickly. And I, brilliant, damning beacon of Light that I am, was basically shouting, “We’re over here!”
[la:03] If any Ghost receives this… look out for Lysithea-3. See if you can contact Wuid. They’ll be able to keep an eye on her.
[la:04] Tell Lys…
[la:05] Tell her I was happy being her Ghost, every time.

-0-

Lysithea lets her head fall forward against the shelves, the purple lights she’d summoned to her hand winking away.
Normally she’d be studiously poking at the Light, disseminating the characteristics that separated its elements, but the air of the Tower wraps tight about her thoughts, threatening to crush her into a ball with no breathing room until she stands straight and spins on her heel. The sound of her boots echo before and behind.
She breathes deep, but there’s little solace in that. The heaviness threads through the air, and Lysithea entertains the thought of grabbing a ship in the hangar and just flying, anywhere but here. But such a simple escape wouldn’t change that Cayde died.
Lysithea walks past huddles of people, Guardians and non-Guardians alike, doing her best to seal her attention away from their worried whispers. They only pull the tension running round Lysithea’s head tighter. She quickens her steps, until she ascends the final set of stairs and lays her eyes on Ikora.
“I want a ship,” are the first words from her mouth when Ikora finally registers her presence.
A small frown. “Lysithea—”
“I know, I know that combat’s out of the question. But I need this. I’m not going to chase Uldren.” Everyone already knew the Young Wolf was gone already anyway. A silent hunting storm. “But I need to get out of the Tower.”
Ikora sighs. She’s looked worn of late, and today is no different. “And if trouble does crop up?”
“I still have my guns. The occasional grenade, if less than everyone else, and the bomb. I’ll be careful to avoid where I can.”
Ikora turns to sweep her eyes over the City. Lysithea remains where she is. The years in the Tower have granted her plenty of time to understand how Ikora works, between analysis of the information the Hidden bring in and the way she speaks with new and old Guardians. Lysithea knows the line of tension bending her back as well as her own, and there is no fast-talking Hunter Vanguard to straighten the lines out anymore.
“No seeking trouble.”
“No.”
“…We can’t afford to lose anymore people.” She turns to Lysithea, hand already raised to stop any protest. “So I am going to find someone for you to rendezvous with. I know you haven’t had a fireteam to speak of in, sometime…”
“Since the moon. It’s okay.”
Ikora looks long. “Either way, it won’t hurt to have a second set of eyes. Amanda will set you up with a ship. If you are intent on leaving, then I’ll set you with the purpose of understanding these new enemies in the Tangled Shore.”
The relief cuts through Lysithea and she can breathe again, the heavy sorrow temporarily relieved. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”
“I trust your abilities.” She draws her hands over the newest reconnaissance results, and it comes to a stop over scrawl Lysithea can’t discern from her current angle. There’s the image of a large Eliksni holding a staff—or at least, she thinks it’s one, its body seems too big for the frame of bone most Eliksni had, and there’s something like a mask covering its face. “Go, and return to us safe.”
Lysithea nodded, heart full. Cayde had been the one to come chat when research went nowhere, and they’d thrown around countless ludicrous plans to break out of the Tower to shake off the itch that rode on them both. But he hadn’t been the only one to help, drifting as she had. Ikora had opened up her personal library to allow her research of her Light, given her tasks to devote her energy to, instead of driving herself mad with inaction in the Tower.
So she can’t help but give Ikora a small bow. “I will.”