The Arcadia-class jumpship rattled as it clawed its way into the upper atmosphere. Weiss sat in the co-pilot's chair—mostly because Spark insisted she should sample the view while he flies the ship. The little Ghost drifted excitedly around the cockpit, humming to himself in a tune that was almost musical but had too many sharp turns to be comfortable.
"Marvelous! Simply marvelous!" Spark chirped, rotating with a delighted flourish. "Our escape velocity is nominal, inertial dampeners functioning, and we have not exploded! I consider this a strong success for your first launch."
Weiss exhaled, trying to ease the tension that was still tingled in her arms after the battle with the larger Fallen Captain. "We almost exploded. Twice."
Spark bobbed. "Yes, but almost exploding is what makes not exploding so statistically satisfying! The traveler must be very proud."
She raised an eyebrow. "Is… that really how you think?"
"I do not 'think.' I process. And currently I am processing an extremely elevated level of enthusiasm," he zipped beside her shoulder. "You, Weiss, are already shaping up to be a truly exemplary Guardian. Your reflexes with that Arc Blade were exquisite—if slightly reckless—and your situational adaptability was sufficient for us not to perish. And that is all I can ask at this developmental stage!"
Weiss looked out the viewport instead of answering. Earth curved below them, wrapped in a band of gold sunlight. Storm clouds swirled over the continents. For a moment, she forgot the Fallen, the ruins, even her own confusion about her identity.
She whispered, "It's beautiful…"
Spark hovered closer, his voice softening—not quieter, just less aggressively cheerful. "This is the world you were born into. The one you are sworn to protect now. The Traveler gave you Light so you could stand between it and those who would see it fall."
Weiss nodded slowly, absorbing it. "Light… you mentioned it before. I felt it when you taught me that ability. Like a current flowing through me."
"Oh yes! Blade dancing—Channeling Arc Light into your movements, your blade, your reflexes and speed. Quite the volatile subclass, but you seem to take to it naturally. How inspiring."
Weiss gave a faint smirk. "Guess I'm learning fast."
Spark spun in place, pleased. "Rapid improvement is highly encouraged! And necessary, given the fascinating array of threats attempting to kill us."
The ship shook slightly as they pierced the exosphere. The stars outside sharpened, brilliant against the void. Weiss leaned forward, seeing a distant sphere rising over the horizon—white, massive, cracked with ancient scars yet still glowing faintly like a slow heartbeat.
She stared. "Spark… is that—?"
"The Traveler!" Spark sang, drifting to the front window and doing a proud little roll. "Our luminous benefactor. The source of all Guardian Light. And home to the Last City nestled beneath it. Ah, I do love a dramatic reveal."
Weiss felt her chest tighten with awe and glee. Maybe even a flicker of hope.
"It's… incredible."
Spark softened again. "Yes. It is. And soon, you will stand beneath it—not as a wanderer lost among ruins, but as a Guardian, reborn and with purpose." His tone brightened again with sudden urgency. "Also, I recommend bracing. Our landing vector is… mm… somewhat improvisational."
Weiss grabbed the crash bar on instinct. "Spark—"
A tremor shook the hull.
"Do not worry! I have calculated an 87% chance of survival," Spark announced cheerfully.
"Eight- Spark!"
He bobbed happily. "Oh, look on the bright side! That is a vast improvement from earlier today."
As the ship descended toward the distant sanctuary of the Last City, Weiss held on tight—half terrified, half exhilarated, and more alive than she had ever felt.
Spark hummed a triumphant little tune as the clouds swallowed them.
"Onward, Weiss! To the City, to the Tower, and to a future teeming with statistically improbable adventures!"
________________
Amanda Holiday was elbow-deep in the guts of a half-disassembled jumpship when the hangar's warning klaxons began to scream.
She froze, slowly lifting her goggles. "… Aw hell," she muttered, recognizing that specific rising whine of engines pushed well past safe tolerances.
A dozen Tower techs scrambled across the flight deck. Overhead lights flashed red. Amanda jogged toward the open bay doors, wiping grease off her cheek with the back of her hand.
"What've we got?" she shouted.
A nervous technician pointed at the incoming radar display. "Unregistered Arcadia class. No transponder. Coming in—uh—really fast."
Amanda squinted out the hangar bay entrance.
A tiny ship hurtled toward them trailing smoke, flame, and what she hoped were not pieces falling off. Its nose dipped violently, then jerked up, then dipped again like it was being piloted by someone whose idea of flying came from reading a manual upside-down.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she groaned. "Arm emergency dampeners! Clear the deck!"
Technicians scattered. Cargo crates slid out of the landing zone. A Titan on escort duty raised a rocket launcher, paused, and wisely decided it wouldn't help.
The ship burst through the hangar shield in a shower of blue sparks, skidded across the floor, bounced—literally bounced—off a maintenance lift, spun in a semi-graceful arc, and slammed belly-first into the deck.
The entire hangar shook.
Silence.
A few metal panels clattered to the ground for dramatic effect.
Amanda stared at the wrecked ship, hands on her hips. "Well," she muttered, "I've seen worse landings. Not many, but worse."
A hatch violently popped off, hit the floor, and skidded into Amanda's boots.
A small blue-white mechanical eye floated out, humming enthusiastically.
"Oh yes! Safe landing achieved!" Spark announced, spinning with pride. "I informed Weiss our survival odds were quite high. Roughly eighty-seven percent!"
Amanda blinked at him, then at the crashed ship behind him.
Behind Spark, Weiss staggered out of the ruined cockpit, soot-smudged, hair wild, clutching the Fallen Arc Blade like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
She managed a tiny shy wave. "Hi."
Spark chimed in, "Greetings! I am Guilty Spark, personal Ghost of this newly awakened Guardian. We request… ah… minimal disciplinary action for the landing incident."
Amanda looked from the wrecked hangar deck, to the ruined ship, to the peppy floating orb, and finally to Weiss.
Then she deadpanned, "… Let's just start with your name and insurance information."
Spark brightened. "Excellent! I love introductions."
Weiss just sighed.
And somewhere above them, the Tower PA system crackled back to life:
"Hangar control to Holiday—what the hell just happened down there?"