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Rex's first thought was to bring his Khovostov. The first gun he'd found after Jay found him and brought him back from the dead. The one he'd kept for four years and then finally dismantled, only to rebuild it into something exotic. It was special. It had meaning.
Ghaul ruined all that. The Khovostov had been smashed when a Red Legion drop pod obliterated the Vault kiosks back at the old tower.
Rand, the Awoken Warlock that Rex worked with and shared vault space with, said he'd been meditating. Mentally revisiting those old events they'd shared together. He said it was like starting over from scratch. Talked about the "good old days" when reaching for the Light was different, you had to work for it, nurture it, help it grow, develop the super abilities. Robyn, his Ghost, was saying something about how their Light resonance had changed when Ghaul caged the Traveler and when it woke up to defeat him.
Rex stopped listening somewhere in there, looking up at the quiet orb hanging in orbit with the large, triangular portal cut into it by an angry, wrathful.... thing, for lack of a better term. Rand and Robyn could talk for hours about what exactly the Witness had done to the Traveler and why it needed the Veil and what exactly was happening on a fundamental level. They went to Osiris and Saint-14's for tea all the time, and Rex was pretty sure Saint mostly smiled and offered more tea cookies, just happy to hear Osiris excited.
He looked over at his Ghost, Jay, currently wearing the pixelated version of the basic Generalist shell that Jay had first found him in, and transmatted in the replica of Saghira's shell that Brother Vance had helped them make years ago, before Mercury was taken into the dark anomaly that now sat in its place.
"What do you think? In honor of her?"
Jay looked at it thoughtfully, then shook his shell side to side. "No. No I don't think so. Maybe the next time we expect to go take down another Vex mind, or... OOH. When we finally find the rock Xivu Arath went and crawled under after Eris embarrassed her, then we'll put that on. We'll get some real justice for Saghira."
Jay nodded and swiftly dismantled the shell back into glimmer, ready to reassemble it from the pattern they had stored.
"You know Jay... this feels different."
"The world could be ending tomorrow. Of course things feel weird."
Rex shook his head. "No, the world was ending when Oryx invaded. The world was ending when Ghaul caged the Traveler. This... this feels almost final. Like everything's been leading up to this.
"Have you been listening to Rand and Robyn ramble about this Final Shape thing again? It just sounds like a fancy way to say 'the end of the world.'"
"Nah. Just feels... important. Momentous."
Jay paused for a moment, hovering thoughtfully, before nodding. "I think you're right. Like everything's been leading up to this."
"Well, lets make sure we're ready for it."
Suddenly, Jay knew exactly what weapon he should use for a primary. Pulling out the latest revision (or was the appropriate term "alternate timeline variant?") of Elsie's Rifle from the vault, he slung it across his back. Before he'd known her as Elsie, and she was just "The Exo Stranger," she'd given him this rifle after he'd destroyed the Heart of the Black Garden, a Vex invention that was a failed, twisted mimicry of the paracausal energies of the Traveler and the Veil, that had been keeping the dormant Traveler from healing. Yes, that was an appropriate weapon.
He also locked and loaded his Arbalest. The Drifter's Dark Age makeshift rail gun had few equals when it came to piercing shields and eliminating snipers from across the map. A rocket launcher that used Void energy to complement his current kit rounded out the weaponry. It was one that Ikora's Hidden had equipped him with when he and his squad infiltrated the pocket dimension domain known as a Throne World belonging to Savathun, Hive God of Cunning and Trickery. Or was it former Hive God of Cunning? Rex wasn't sure, given her relatively new status as a Lightbearer.
Argon-4 didn't really care that entire mission either. The soft-spoken Titan was the third member of their fireteam, and a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. If you pointed him at an objective and told him to smash, he smashed. What he really adored, though, was the beautiful things. He was enamored with what Savathun had done to her Throne World with the Light. He and his Ghost, Bismuth, had found these crystalized moths, Hive moths that (according to Rand and Robyn) had been mutated and transformed by their exposure to the Light. They were absolutely beautiful, and Argon and Bismuth made a point to find as many as they could and leave them in a cave near their new friend, the Hive Ghost deserter Fynch.
Rex double checked his armor, everything but the cloak, Jay floating around to make sure the straps on the back were snug. He glanced over towards the Hanger as he finished up, then Zavala. He wanted something to remember Amanda, the Vanguard's shipwright, by. That woman had had no Ghost, no extra lives to give besides the one she was born with, yet she had fought like she had thousands. She'd given her life early last year, saving Shadow Legion captives from whatever the Witnesses forces had in mind for them. Zavala had taken it particularly hard. He'd known her since she was a child.
Rex wondered if she'd become like a daughter to him. He'd been particularly quiet since that moment. Rex continued to watch sadly as Zavala looked over the City and the assembled Coalition Fleet hovering in the air above it, ready to move against the Witness. The man had lost so much in his long life, yet he continue to push on with dogged determination to keep others from suffering the same.
There was a swatch of red cloth tied to Zavala's pauldron. Rex hadn't noticed it before, but thinking back, Zavala had been wearing that since Amanda's funeral. He recognized it now as Amanda's bandana that she'd kept around her neck.
Rex thought for a moment more, then changed his ship requisition to the Arcadia-class jumpship that had first brought him to the Tower. It was the first ship that Amanda had worked on for him. That's how he would remember her.
Only one thing left.
The cloak was the hardest part. A Hunter's cloak was more than a frabjous fashion statement and a tool to keep the elements off your gear when you were out exploring Golden Age ruins. It was a symbol. It spoke to a Hunter's identity. With a mission that felt this momentous, this important, the choice of cloak was also going to be critical.
There was the cloak he'd worn, that had been damaged, and then remade in the Red War when he'd lost and regained his Light. Then there was the cloak made in honor of that Red War era cloak by Shaxx for the BRAVE arsenal, as a reward for assisting in preparing the City's defenses and pushing back the forces of the Witness. He had two cloaks he'd earned painstakingly through the Trials of Osiris. He'd never won a trip to the Lighthouse, but he'd earned these. Many, many stylish cloaks that evoked warriors of the pre-Golden Age, given out by Lord Saladin in his Iron Banner tournaments. A cloak he'd found on Mars that was part of old Braytech survival gear, a few designed by Rasputin, the Warmind that chose peace and death over feeding an angry Hive War God, a cloak made of cables and wires by the weavers and splicers of House Light, under the leadership of Miisraaks (some call him Mithrax because it was just easier), as thanks for giving them a new home in the City and helping push back the Endless Night.
Many, many, many, many many cloaks, all of them with a story. Some adventure tied to them. This one he wore when he died 59 times to the treads in Caiatl's land tank. This one flipped around in the air when he showed off to that New Light he'd become good friends with, Ryo. This one he was wearing in a Crucible match with Ex, who'd retired and was now helping distribute used clothing and other items to needy citizens in the City, and Astron, who was also taking a break from active duty. So many cloaks, so many stories. So many memories to honor.
Hey.
Rex looked over at Jay, who looked at him confused. "Are... are you okay?"
"You didn't hear that?"
"Hear... what?"
"...that whisper?"
Jay looked at him with concern, given the tendency for Ahamkara bones to whisper to their holders, trying to get them to make wishes that could end in disaster. Given their recent missions involved wishing to the spirit of the dragon Riven of a Thousand Voices, the very one that had manipulated Uldren Sov into killing Cayde-6 and devastating the Reef, to give them a way through the portal in the Traveler, the concern wasn't entirely unfounded. "I think we should get you away from both Shaxx's Ahamkara skull and the Vaults. Light knows they're filled with Young Ahamkara's Spines and Skull of Dire Ahamkaras.
Hey
There it was again. Rex ignored his Ghost, and pushed through the pile of cloaks he'd been considering. The voice was coming from this direction, he was sure of it. He recognized that voice. The last time he'd heard that voice he was cradling Cayde's head in his lap as the lights in his eyes went dark.
There. Two cloaks. The two he'd honestly worn the most since that day. One a simple pattern with a single spade emblazoned on the back. The other--
Hey. Take me with you.
A Hunter's cloak was more than just a frabjous fashion statement and a tool to keep the elements off your gear in the wild. When a Hunter takes a cloak from a fallen comrade, it's a vow. A promise.
Rex slung the Vanguard Dare cloak over his shoulders and fastened it, making sure the little scarf that bundled his neck was comfortable. Once belonging to Andal Brask, then Cayde-6, and now him. It was a promise, handed down from one Hunter to another.
"Jay, I think I'm ready. Crow's waiting for us on the other side of that portal."
Rex looked up one more time at the ominous, silent orb in the sky.
"And I've got a promise to keep."