The Right Choice
| The Right Choice
| |
|---|---|
| |
| Attributes
| |
| Type | Ghost Shell |
| Rarity | Legendary |
| Description | "And... thanks. You know. For being my Guardian." |
Perks
How to Obtain
Notes
Lore
The Light was gone.
He drifted in and out of... something, and saw a ship hanging from guidewires in a Cosmodrome warehouse. Fields of flowers amid alien canals, stretching to the horizon.
He realized he was muttering. "I have to find... my Guardian."
Where had he said that before? His own voice answered him. Confident, and in control. "We don't know what they look like. Not on the outside, anyway."
He was beneath a bridge now, somehow. Cabal searchlights lit the puddles on either side. He didn't want to look at what was under the surface.
"On the inside. I'd always known who you were." He blinked. He wished he could cry. "Together, we could be something... more." It started raining again.
Drift. A masked woman with black tears streaming down her face.
"Everything we've seen."
Drift. Red braids of nanotechnology around the throats of angry scavengers.
"Everything we've done."
The Cabal continued their grim work, and the last safe place on Earth cracked beneath their booted heels.
"I made the right choice."
Ghost opened his shell to cast back the darkness. He was alone.
And in the night beyond, the rain came down.
Images
