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Untethered Edge Gloves
The metallic limbs of the Vex Goblin flailed wildly in the air as Saint-14 held it high above his head. The Titan dropped abruptly to one knee, bringing down the writhing Vex and cracking the radiolarian chamber at its center against his massive thigh. The red light in the Vex's eye flickered out as the cooling radiolaria trickled down Saint's boot. He stood, satisfied, and cast the dead frame aside. "Do you see?" he asked brightly. "I use the very weight of the creature against it!" "Whoa," came Failsafe's voice over the comms, low and impressed. Saint's visual feed held her full attention. She adjusted her filter, and her tone became cheery. "Please show me again!" "You cannot get this close to them all the time, but it is wise to save ammunition when you can," Saint said. He dusted off his hands and chuckled. "And it feels good to crush a Vex! It is very therapeutic!" "Ah, I believe I understand!" chirped Failsafe. "Is there a power transfer during this thanatotic expression that explains how you are able to maintain such high uptime on your socialization filters?" Saint slid his helmet off and the comms transferred seamlessly to his built-in Exo earpiece. "What is it you mean?" "I will rephrase," Failsafe replied. "What percentage of your processes are dedicated to positive outlook preservation?" Saint squinted at the stone outcroppings of Nessus and turned his helmet over in his hands. "Failsafe," he began kindly, but she interrupted. "Ugh, okay," she started, her tone somehow portraying an eyeroll. "I mean, you're in a good mood, like, all the time, so obviously you overclocked your joviality banks or something, yeah?" Saint broke into a wide smile. "Exos are not like AI. I am just who I am, Failsafe. It does not take anything extra to be me." "Oh!" Failsafe exclaimed after a moment. "How lovely that must be for you!" Her sunny voice did little to hide her envy. "Now for you, I understand it is different," Saint said, patting his helmet as if to soothe it. "But I think that maybe you should not have to spend extra power to talk to your friends." A heavy silence fell over the comms. Failsafe's voice was soft and reserved. "Saint-unit?" she said quietly. "Yes?" "Did you once headbutt a Kell?" Saint burst into laughter. "I have headbutted many things!" "I'm checking on your files, and uh, yeah, you really have," Failsafe said. She scrolled through a vast sea of Saint's accomplishments, all complete with uploads of his visual feed… except one. "Weird… Saint-unit, there's an unconfirmed VanNet report here about an unsanctioned solo operation in Savathûn's throne world sometime last year. According to this—" "Who made this report?" Saint asked. Failsafe accessed a VanNet profile and was met with a stream of account flags. "A heavily restricted user account, _MRU_, who claims firsthand knowledge of the event." "Pfah," Saint said dismissively. "You cannot believe every report in the system." He slid his helmet back on and walked purposefully toward a shimmering radiolarian stream where Vex were beginning to emerge. Failsafe recognized the subtle inflections in Saint's tone: the conversation had become suddenly troubling to him. Probably not enough juice in his cordiality partition, Failsafe thought, and dropped the subject.
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