No matter where I am in the solar system, what fantastic adventures I embark upon in the name of Dead Orbit, my heart is always back in the European Dead Zone, sniping from the church belfry with my Destiny 2 lifemate, Devrim Kay.
I’ll admit it wasn’t love at first sight. At first Devrim’s and my relationship was strictly professional. I’d climb to the top of the church after shooting my share of Cabal or Fallen, trading trinkets scavenged from their bodies for equipment and prestige. He had packages and rewards. I needed packages and rewards. Now and then he’d guide me through a mission over the radio. Once he promised to make me tea, but drank it all. We were work friends.
And when I started spending more and more time in Devrim’s sniper’s nest, it wasn’t initially for the company. My favorite activity in Destiny 2 is shooting aliens. My least favorite is dying. The church tower, conveniently overlooking a ruined park that served as a nigh-perpetual staging ground for a conflict between the Cabal and Fallen, was the perfect place to do what I loved while avoiding what I hated. Following Devrim’s lead, I sniped.
The church quickly became my go-to place whenever I’d start up the game. I’d spend hours up there. Countless waves of Cabal and Fallen came and went. Other players, no doubt jealous of my choice shooting position, would make their way up to the window, blocking my way and making rude gestures before wandering off.
Devrim was the only constant. Sometimes the salt-and-pepper haired sniper would shoot quietly by my side, breaking the silence only to playfully taunt the enemy or bid me to be careful out there (a place I had no intention of going). Other times he’d regale me with stories of Mark, someone very close to Devrim, with whom he’d shared such delights as “hot cocoa, homemade Fuan cheese, and baked clams.”
The two of us falling in love was inevitable. He with his velvety, Gideon Emery-like voice, me with my vivid imagination and ability to ignore the obvious signs that he’s already with someone named Mark. Or maybe he’s saying “Mike” and his accent makes it sound like “Mark.” That’s probably it.
And so I log into Destiny 2 and make my way to the European Dead Zone every time, where I know Devrim Kay will be waiting. You can keep your Osiris curses and your Leviathan raids. The petty problems of humanity (you know, potential extinction) are not my concern. Ongoing game controversies cannot touch me here. I’ve found the perfect place to shoot, and the perfect partner to share it with.