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Ghost
I open my eyes and stare into the soft blue glow of a Ghost. At least, that’s what the flying, spinning contraption called itself; a Ghost. Truth be told, I think I’m more of a ghost than this yammering machine. I was supposed to be dead. The last thing I remember was falling on the field of battle, and now I’m being told that it’s my destiny to rejoin the fight, maybe even help turn the tide in humanity’s favor. I figure I’ve got nothing better to do. I was dead, after all, so I might as well pick up a gun and see what I can squeeze out of this second chance I’ve been given.

Old Russia
This world is not the one I left behind. We were a species on a path to new worlds of discovery, and The Traveler served as our guide. But with this new light came the Darkness, and with the Darkness came enemies we were not prepared to withstand. The Ghost tells me I am still in Russia, but this is not the Russia I remember. Entire swaths of the countryside have been demolished. Craters as deep as a mountain pepper the landscape. A once flourishing city is little more than a handful of desolated buildings, twisted metal and rusted artifacts of a civilization that no longer exists. As I make my way through these cramped corridors and open pits of rubble, I have to wonder how long, exactly, I’ve been away from the fight.
Familiar Faces
While the rest of the world has changed, it looks like at least one thing has remained the same: Mankind’s enemies. I was only resurrected about an hour ago and already I’ve come across dozens of Fallen and Hive parasites. The former march around with military precision while the latter lurk in the shadows, barely more than wild animals.

What are they after? Why are they still here? What can I possibly do to stop them?

I suppose I’ve already answered that last question, as my aim is as sharp as it’s ever been and these monsters are as allergic to bullets as they were when I last fought them. The Hive melt away to bone and ash when I shove my knife into their skulls and the Fallen give off a satisfying electric burst when I line up my scope with their forehead and pull the trigger. They keep coming, though, and I need to find a way out of this city. This GhostMy Ghost, I suppose—says that humanity hasn’t given up the fight just yet. There’s still a city where a rebellion flourishes. At the heart of that city is the Tower, which is where I will learn my role in this whole mess. If it means I get to kill more of this alien scum, then I’ll happily highjack a transport, fly to the Tower and play my part.
Destiny
They call him The Voice, and they say that he speaks for The Traveler. Whether or not this masked man actually serves as the mouthpiece for that massive, floating sphere in the sky is irrelevant. What matters to me is that he seems to have a plan, and he claims that I have a role to play in it. Hundreds of us have roles, it would seem, and he refers to us each as Guardians.

I don’t know how I feel about all of this “chosen few” mumbo-jumbo. I was always picked last in basketball and I sure as hell wasn’t voted prom king, so being told I’m a special snowflake isn’t exactly setting my world on fire. I don’t want to be special; I just want to make a damn difference, and this guy is telling me that I might be able to do exactly that. If that's the case, then he can count me in. I always knew how to take orders and put up a good fight when our enemies came knocking. The way I see it, I’m being given a second chance to answer the door, and this time I’m feeling more powerful, more prepared than I ever have.

The Voice tells me that the journey will be long and dark but, in the end, we may very well bring back the light. It’s a slim chance, but I’m willing to take those odds. My first destination is Old Russia, that same bit of scorched earth where my Ghost found me laying amidst the rubble. The Hive and the Fallen have taken particular interest in that region, and The Voice says he has a series of missions he thinks would be right up my alley. I guess he saw a glimmer in my eye when he brought up the matter of taking the fight to our enemies.

Like I’ve been saying, I’m ready for battle. I’m a gun, and I’m happy to fire in whichever direction they want to aim me if it means reclaiming this planet back for humanity. Call it revenge or unfinished business, but I feel like this is what I was born—or at least resurrected—to do.

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