She builds a palace here in her hiding place, and I perceive through her self-assurance. For all her grandiose treatises on secrets, the Hive princess all but screams, "Look upon me." And so I look upon her today, my Witness, absent a brother. Loss—true and consequential loss—is new to her palette, but she hides her distaste for the bitter well. I address her. "Savathûn, your brother is no more. He is absent from the final shape of things, as he always must be. But I sense a foreign hand at work." "Would you accuse rather than state, Rhulk?" She clothes herself in playful tones. "I have played a role in more of my brother's deaths than not." "So very true. Congratulations, then? I suppose after so many eons of killing one another to build your strength, his final end must feel like quite the accomplishment. No more must your wits dabble against his play-mortality. Now, only matters of consequence will occupy your precious time." "And thankfully, I find myself well-provisioned now for any conflict." "Ah! I had nearly forgotten! You are the heir apparent to Oryx's dominion, yes? I know you Hive are loathe to accept gifts rather than seize them. Armies. Fleets. And of course, the Taken." "If I had seen this coming, perhaps I could have even prepared to secure the secret of Taking itself." I bark in amusement. She makes no attempt to hide her distaste for the laughter of my kind, and it is indulgence itself to let it flow freely. "Clever. Always one step ahead. The Taken will serve you well against the Guardians until they slay you just the same." "My sweet, vile brother would look at a scalpel and see a hammer. I am not him." "Yes, you do seem to find much more creative uses for your playthings. A pity that will become ever so challenging for you moving forward." "Challenging?" I do not see confusion cross her face often. I savor the scent. "Until now, the shadow from which you skulked has been your brother's. Without the Taken King to cast your swaddling shade, you stand naked in the sun for all to see, yes? No shadows, no hiding, no tricks. Just the Guardians and their god-slaying weapons." "I have little to fear from the sun," she insists, but there is no twist in her face. No secret delight.