When you channeled the Traveler's might through your fists, did you feel powerful?
When you folded the edges of space and time with your very mind, did you feel worldly?
When you passed without a trace through the enemy lines, past the walls of darkness, did you feel superior?
I did. When I was raised from the grave and filled with power beyond my wildest dreams, I felt like a god. They feared me. I was revered. The ground, I shake.
I don't know what it did to me. What the Shadows of Yor inflicted me with, but it was beyond the power of my Ghost. I sought the Consensus to allow me near the Traveler. Perhaps its light could cure me, but I was denied.
Day by day, my body crumbles, becoming heavier with each step. I was doomed, but I fought on. I carried on with my duty even when I was retired by the Vanguard. When unaffiliated, Guardians are free agents, able to go wherever they so wish so I followed my old fireteam. They knew a Guardian's place was the frontlines, one who is nearing a final death would want nothing more than to perish with a cause.
I felt weak. I felt empty. Now, it takes all my Light to stay standing but I continued to fight, brushing against the spikes of death. My next death would be my last. I was effectively mortal. I have never felt so vulnerable, yet oddly enough, I have never fought so hard in my various life times. When I was in the Vanguard, I never gave much thought to those we protected. They were safe in the city. Walls of impregnable Light defended them, but I realize now that walls alone are not enough. The will to persevere, the hope to continue, the promise of safety. So much more was necessary to protect humanity far more than confidence and reckless sacrifice.
In my mortality, I have found a strength far greater than that of the Light. But now that you are reading this I might have... I pass this power on to you. It is finite, brittle and delicate but it is sharper than any blade and more powerful than any gun. I do not have a name for this power, but I would hope you would find one for it.
You may call me a fool, but it is better to die remembered as a fool than survive and be forgotten.