I look upon them, and I am struck by wonder.
All they do. All they endure.
Not a single one asked for this life—this second chance. And when they woke—when the Light hit their eyes in that first instance upon their return—they were welcomed into a broken world.
They stand. Time and again. Against odds insurmountable. In defiance of all who would see their end.
Such determination. Such pride. Such fire. Love. Joy. Hope. Fear. Lust. Such powerful will. Strong enough to carve the promise of new tomorrows across the barren landscapes of yesterday.
It inspires. From the smallest victory, to grandest of conquests, I've seen it all…
The raising of the first walls. The bravery of Six Fronts. The desperation at Twilight Gap. The war with the Devils. The taming of the Wolves.
I've seen Iron Lords rise and fall, witnessed the last cycles of dark ages, and cheered as new triumphs gifted all with the promise of renewed hope—our return to the Moon and Mars, the pruning of the Garden, and the defeat of Hive royalty.
Even Ghaul and his armies… So many threats, so many challenges, yet our Guardians stand—humankind persists.
They are touched by the Light, but no longer do I see it as a gift. Instead, it is their courage, their strength, their humanity that has been, in truth, the greatest gift—their greatest weapon.
This thought brings me joy and a bit of peace amid so much chaos, and I find myself asking, often and with great anticipation:
Where to next?
—Observations of a Ghost named Kaiser on Guardian inspiration
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