I do not sleep anymore.

Being a Guardian does have it benefits: superhuman abilities, infinite grenades, and immortality being among them. But they are necessary for our duty as Guardians, to protect humanity and the City against our enemies and to secure our destiny as a species. But for all of these abilities, it cannot numb us from our humanity.

I am human. Sleep is a luxury among Guardians because of our plight. Even though the Light of the Traveler has changed us to be more, to do more than anyone else without, even it cannot completely remove our biology and psychology written within our very cells. It can eliminate the need, but it cannot eliminate the biological cravings for food or sleep for organic humans and Awoken, and the normally mandatory recalibration and maintenance of systems for the artificial Exo. Nor could it eliminate pain or mental anguish, because they were there for a reason.

I died. Before becoming a Guardian, I had died. And I remember.

My Ghost said that death is difficult for every Guardian. Some would spend hours raging, caught up in the intensity of the memory. Others would be silent, head down, eyes distant, alone with ghosts that only they could see. And still some would drink away the pain. He said that every sapient being have their ways to cope with death, because no matter who or what you are, death is unavoidable. Only Guardians have to deal with both death and life at the same time: back and forth, back and forth, between living and dying, and then re-dying while still alive. Living a contradiction, life within death, and death within life; everyone else only experience each once.

Me, I remember.

I remember the smoke, the burning sky, and all-consuming fear.

The smell of plasma and burnt synthetic ammo-gel.

The bitter taste of blood and sweat.

The distant cries and obscenities of others.

A wretched scream piercing the night sky, begging them to stop.

A lonely hill surrounded by cars; the Wall so very close, yet so far away.

A child weeping, tears soaking my chest and snot dribbling down her nose.

And my voice, hoarse and labored, whispering softly, "Don't worry, everything will be alright. You'll see. Everything will be fine. You'll be alright."

Rising horror and then a grim realization that I have to be faster, stronger, better.

Blood. Blood everywhere.

Regret...

And then a voice calling, telling me to wake up. Calling me...

Calling me Guardian...

"Guardian!"

I jerked straight up in my seat, instantly alert. A white star-shaped orb about the size of my fist hovered in front of me, concern in its single blue eye. Behind it, I noticed holographic displays scrolling data, washing the tiny cockpit in its calm orange light. Beyond those, a giant screen was dominated by a view of a blue planet, swathed in brown landmass and wisps of clouds, and I could see tiny pinpricks in orbit that I knew to be other Guardians' ships.

"Guardian." The orb said. "You have a message."

I growled in annoyance as I rubbed my eyes. "Ghost, I told you not to disturb me." I complained.

"I know." Ghost said. I scowled at him.

"Who is it this time?" I asked. Rest is a luxury for a Guardian. Almost all of us are up 24/7, and rarely do we find the time for it. My... remembrances are usually as close to a peaceful sleep as I can get. I tend to get cranky even with it, nothing a cup of coffee can't fix, but without... well, let's just say it takes more than a few cups of coffee to fully prep myself. I wondered momentarily who was such an idiot that he would have chosen to call up a resting Guardian.

"The Speaker," he replied. My thoughts froze, shriveled up and died.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The Speaker. Our leader, now since the Traveler is silent. I remembered him as an avid research leader, and then, later, the representative of the Traveler. It was weird, waking up one day to find one of your professors the leader of a fallen humanity.

"Why?" I asked Ghost.

He shrugged, or at the very least the equivalent, which was shifting his triangular edges up and down. "He said you should go to the Reef."

I blinked. Usually, Ghost was far more descriptive than just that. "Why?" I asked again.

My Ghost fidgeted. He was clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. "It's..." He paused for a moment, and I waited for him to continue. "It's... about a hunch. He feels that something important is happening in the Reef, and he wants you there to be ready for it."

My face fell. I suddenly could feel the aches in my bones, and I wondered if it wasn't too late for retirement. First the Sword of Crota, then the World's Grave, followed by the Hive ritual, the Stranger, the Archive of Venus, the Fallen warlord, the Queen of the Reef, the Vex Gate Lord, and, lately, the Black Garden. And now this. I was getting tired of being a poster boy for the Guardians. I'd still do it, don't get me wrong. But after racing from one event straight into another, there are times when I wished I could take a break from the uphill slogging. I rubbed my face in exasperation. I know why the Speaker would ask me for this particular assignment. So far, I was the only Guardian that was able to have an audience with her, the Queen of the Awoken, and able to strike a deal. I owe her a favor, in return for the coordinates of the Black Garden. But then there's the matter about the Queen blasting me to atoms if I ever do poke my nose back in without permission. Well, she didn't exactly say that, per se, but I get the gist. Her brother is remarkably unsubtle.

My hand passed through my chin, and I felt the stubble brush against my fingers. Damn, I need to shave.

"Is it the Darkness?" I asked Ghost.

The Darkness. Even the very word send shivers down my spine. Mortal enemy of the Traveler, it nearly wiped out humanity in the process as it hunted down the Traveler. When the Traveler first came to our solar system, it sparked a Golden Age, allowing us to reach to new heights like never before. When the Darkness came, it triggered the Collapse and our near extinction. In fact, if it wasn't for the Traveler's great sacrifice during the Collapse, we would be extinct now. I should know. I died during the aftermath, when we were still recovering from the Darkness's brutal assault and the death of the Traveler, and when nearby alien empires saw their chance to strike. But that was centuries ago, and I only just became a Guardian within the last month or so. The Speaker has warned us that the Darkness is coming back, and that we must prepare. If the Darkness coming now...

"No," Ghost instantly replied. "Something... different."

More aliens, then. It's either that, or the Darkness. And with a centuries-old war being waged by five different factions going on right inside our home system, we really don't need another.

I clenched my hand into a fist, a hand gloved in the dark full-bodysuit that I wore, and concentrated my will. There was a tug at the edge of my mind, and then suddenly warmth licked my palm and light leaked between my fingers. Ghost stared at my fist, watching. With a sigh, I opened my fist, revealing a beautiful rose made out of fire, sitting in my palm. It illuminated the entire cockpit with a bright light, and, I was quite sure, shining out to nearby Guardians like a little star. I let it drift from my hand into the air, and watched the radiant flower as it dissolved slowly, until only dying streaks were left. An edge of a genuine smile was on my lips.

"The Hunters may look better," I chuckled, looking at my Ghost. "But I still have my fireworks." I smirked at him, and said, "No aliens have the Light of the Traveler, Ghost. We'll be fine."

"You are a Guardian, after all." Ghost said softly, still staring at the embers floating beside him.

I chuckled again and called out, "Director!" A blue screen popped into existence, revealing a chart of the solar system. "Destination: Reef, Asteroid Belt." I told it. A mini-screen showed up, reading: Would you like to confirm your destination?

"Confirmed," I said.

Earth spun away from the main screen, until I could only see stars. And then with a ripple of light, the star became streaks of whites. We were on our way, to an uncertain destiny.

But at the back of my mind, I remembered a little girl weeping in my arms, and my own hoarse voice repeating hope for her sake. And wishing it was actually true.

The smile died on my lips, as I remembered, staring at the star-streaks but seeing only ghosts.

Me, I remember. And I endure.