Epilogue: Something To Believe In

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For every tyrant a tear for the vulnerable
In every lost soul the bones of a miracle
For every dreamer a dream we're unstoppable
With something to believe in

Waiting for Love – Avicii

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June 05, 2950, 21:42; The Last City, Earth

It was a party. Azra hated parties. It was crowded. Azra hated crowds. Even worse, it was her party, which meant Azra Jax was, unfortunately, at the center of attention.

But the Vault of Glass had been shattered. Never again would the Vex wield such power over ontology. Even better, they had broken the higher-dimensionality of the Vault, brought it back into the pull of cause-and-effect. It no longer stood out of time, so in some way, it never had in the first place.

Azra could live with that. Even if it meant being stuck wandering rooms stuffed with people still riding the buzz of victory (and alcohol). Nearly everyone, it seemed, wanted to pull her into conversation, or take a picture, or admire her gun. Her fireteam was similarly swamped, but at least they seemed to be enjoying it.

Azra was proud of herself. She lasted an entire hour before fleeing like a rabbit before a pack of coyotes. Frankly, she wouldn't have come in the first place (even though Veera and Tapio had begged), but Commander Zavala had made it clear he would be very 'disappointed' if she was not seen at the party.

She understood, in theory. Being ditched by your heroes didn't do well for morale.

Speaking of theory, the balcony to a locked room three levels above the reserved floor still counted as being 'at the party', right?

Azra's thoughts were interrupted by the slightly-exaggerated sound of someone climbing. Even without her Lightsense, she would have recognized the voice that made those grunts anywhere. She reached out a hand and helped haul Cayde-6 over the railing.

"Thanks," he groaned, straightening his cape.

"You're getting rusty," Azra commented dryly. It wasn't all that true, but she'd take the excuse to give Cayde a little ribbing.

"It's not polite to sneak up on people, you know," Sundance reminded the Arcstrider. "We thought it would be courteous to give you a little warning."

She spread her arms. "Consider everyone from here to Twilight Gap officially warned."

"After what happened with Shin Malphur, I'm not taking any chances," he shot back.

Azra grinned and accepted defeat. "I'd say I'm sorry for ditching the party, but, uh... I'm really not."

Cayde let out a pssh and shook his head. "You kidding? I actually won a bet with Ikora about how long it'd take you to sneak off. She thought you'd last two whole hours."

"Ikora Rey never struck me as the kind to take bets," Azra commented.

"A lot's changed," was all Cayde said. He shifted his weight, more on the left foot than the right, fingers closing loosely over the railing, throat lights glowing dimly even though he was silent. He had something on his mind. Azra hadn't missed the sheaf of papers tucked into his belt.

"This about the bet?" Azra asked.

Cayde's optics flicked up to meet hers. That would be a yes. "You looked it over yet?"

The Arcstrider shook her head. "Haven't had a chance. It's been chaos." Between all the debriefings, she'd barely found time to sleep.

"You never take debts serious enough," Cayde chastised. He winkled the papers free from their prison and handed them over.

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