Stag Pincer

Lodi and Lord Shaxx watched a sea of unruly children swarm Variisis Field. A child wearing a paper facsimile of Crow's face stood atop a dirt mound and howled. Lodi grinned.

"Ikora said this was a tradition?" he asked.

"The game is dodgeball—"

"Oh! I'm familiar. But we, uh, didn't allow tackling!" Lodi exclaimed. He looked up at the sky, his left eye flaring a brilliant sapphire, his brow furrowing.

"What do you see?" Shaxx asked.

"It's—" Lodi strained slightly. "Rain incoming. Just checking the acidity. III's absence causing spontaneous alchemical instability. The kids'll be OK; the water's just going to taste bitter."

Shaxx continued, "This ritual was started by Cayde-6, Hunter Vanguard. I've carried it forward… Now you will."

"Happy to. This city's starting to feel like home. Even if it's not the one I remember."

"These are still your people," Shaxx intoned.

Lodi sighed. "I appreciate the time to adjust. But… seems like there are bigger things I could help with."

"Survive your new cosmic handlers, Mister Yero. You remain a testament to humanity's sheer force of will. The Vanguard are preparing an operation, intending for you to help lead it."

Lodi adjusted his glasses. "And what'll you do?"

"Scour the Exodus sites on record—in case we need to make one final flight to safety. If the crisis on Earth pervades, humanity ends."

The Titan turned to leave the field. "In the meantime, teach your descendants. The Nine have orphaned you, but this is a city of orphans."