"Okay, big guy. You're throwing it far away!"

Jayden sighed and grabbed the empty bottle by the neck. He stepped to the edge of the cliff and threw the object with all his Titan strength. Willow grabbed her sniper rifle, put an eye to the scope, and aimed at the shiny object as it swirled away.

A sharp sound resounded, and the bottle exploded. The Hunter uttered a victorious cry and took a step back.

"Devrim, are you up to the challenge?"

"For once I'm facing something other than a Vandal, I'm not going to run away from it." The scout put one knee on the ground, resting his elbow on his thigh.

"You want me to throw that far?"

"A tad more, please."

Willow raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Jayden rolled his shoulders and grabbed a new bottle. He arched up, contracted his mechanical muscles, and propelled the target into the air. Devrim aimed, fired, and the shards of the bottle disappeared into the depths of the forest.

"Those old eyes can still see." The shooter stood up with a smile on his face. "Willow, do you want to continue?"

"I don't have any more bottles on hand. You win this round."

"That' s good. Zara, maybe you need a little help?"

"I'm doing fine, thank you."

The Warlock was crouched a few meters behind them and paid no attention to the shooting contest. Her gaze ranged from a pile of dead wood to a bag of fish kebabs. She held out her hand to the ground, and a burst of sparks erupted from it and ignited the campfire.

The leaves burned quickly, and bright flames soon cracked the wood. Zara followed the cooking instructions rather awkwardly and placed the food too close to the fire. Devrim knelt beside her and showed her how to do it, and the pieces of fish began to smell appetizing.

"Thanks." The rest of the group sat around the fire in small folding chairs. Even without his armor, Jayden was a little too bulky for the makeshift seating and ended up sitting on a flat rock emerging from the earth.

"You're welcome." Devrim took metal cups out of his bag and started serving. "In several centuries, you've never had to cook?"

"Outside the City, it was rarely anything but lyophilized dishes."

"How unfortunate. You don't know the joy of preparing a real camp." Devrim let out a small laugh. "I hardly dare to imagine Suraya's reaction."

"And where do these provisions come from?" Willow asked. "It's not that we don't enjoy being with you, but I doubt we're the first people you think of to share a picnic."

"In fact, I had planned to come here with Marc and some friends from the Farm. But the unfortunates were detained, and I found myself alone in Trostland with provisions for five. You were passing by, and I heard that the Guardians are always happy to help, so..."

"For such a feast? No problem!" Willow took a big sip from her cup, which caused her to cough as soon as she swallowed it. The Hunter had tears in her eyes and a crimson face.

"Careful, it's a bit strong." The scout took a sip and smiled, all innocent looking. "So, how's it going on the field? I saw that the Warmind had put up pylons all over the EDZ."

"And in the rest of the system," Zara replied. "Bunkers were discovered on Luna and Io. The Guardians are helping Ana to coordinate the launch of the defense satellites."

"Let's hope they will be enough." Devrim rotated the skewers.

"It's not like we have any other options," Jayden noted.

"It's true. But all these questions I can ask any Guardian who passes by my church." The old man took the food out of the fire and handed it to them. "Tell me a little about yourself! How long have you been traveling together?"

"It's only been eight years for me," Willow replied, before biting into the juicy flesh. She burned her tongue and cursed as she blew loudly. "Zara saved my skin on Mars."

"And I," the Warlock followed, "was rescued by Jayden at the Six Fronts. I had been resurrected just a few weeks before, in the middle of Antarctica."

"My Ghost found me at the beginning of the Dark Age in the old Chicago. I spent years alone before I moved to the City."

"I see." Devrim smiled and swallowed a piece of fish. "You've surely seen more landscapes than I have!"

"You have never tried to travel, to leave the planet?" Zara asked. "You're in the City Militia, getting permission should not have been a problem before the Red War..."

"I've been in space before. I keep a rather... unpleasant experience. I prefer to have my feet on the ground and leave the wonders of the Solar System to you Guardians."

"However," he said, chewing on a bit too much toasted piece, "I sometimes find it hard to believe that Guardians can be around each other for so long without causing tension. People are used to disagreeing, arguing, getting closer or further away from each other... It is our nature. Yet some fireteams of Guardians seem to resist the passage of time, including yours. How do you manage it?"

At first, they did not know what to say. Each of them had been able to count on the other since their rebirth. They had taken different paths, but always ended up crossing each other when the need arose. Quarrels were frequent, but they remained inseparable, like the union between a Ghost and its Guardian.

They shared tales of their travels, remembered moments of doubt, mutual aid, confrontation. Devrim told them about his own experience, the unusual family he formed with Marc and Suraya. The fire finally went out, leaving only glowing embers flying in the sky illuminated by the colors of the twilight.

Then they returned to Trostland. The scout thanked them warmly for the time spent with him, and the Guardians came back to the Tower.

Hawthorne's passion for the clans was well known. She used to say that a clan was "just a family we choose to join". Perhaps the answer was there, in that little fireteam that nothing could shake. The difference was that they had not chosen it.