Forum:Stolen Will

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Stolen Will
Production overview
Rarity class:	Legendary
Weapon type:	Shotgun
Intrinsic frame:	Rapid-Fire Frame
Is craftable:	No
Specifications
Fire mode:	Full Auto
Rate of fire:	100
Damage:	Stasis

Adept

Stolen Will
Production overview
Rarity class:	Legendary
Weapon type:	Shotgun
Intrinsic frame:	Rapid-Fire Frame
Is craftable:	No
Specifications
Fire mode:	Full Auto
Rate of fire:	100
Damage:	Stasis

"Our enemies have taken much from us. We will steal everything from them."

— Petra Venj

Stolen Will is a Legendary Shotgun introduced in Destiny's April Update and was reissued in Destiny 2's Season of Plunder. It was originally only acquired in the alternate Taken version of the Winter's Run Strike, but is now available from a weekly loot pool for Nightfalls.

An Adept version of this weapon exists, which is capable of equipping Adept mods, receives extra stats from Masterworking the weapon and is distinguished by it's ancient Taken color scheme similar to that seen on Quria, and is only acquired from Nightfalls on Grandmaster difficulty.

Lore

"OUR ENEMIES HAVE TAKEN MUCH FROM US. WE WILL STEAL EVERYTHING FROM THEM."
–PETRA VENJ

---

"Damn it all!" Keftriks cursed under his breath.

Another blighted bolt whizzed past his head and nailed the bulkhead beside him, the warped screeching of his pursuers voicing their dissatisfaction for nearly killing the captain of the ship. He could feel the pattering of their feet behind him trying to overtake and swarm him. The screeching of the twisted creatures behind him grew louder and louder, but he dared not look back.

Of all possible things he'd expect to chase him and his lot down, he expected either the Awoken, seeking payback for what they did to their prison and the one they sprung, or perhaps for his deeds with the Wolves. He expected Guardians acting on their behalf, or even that damnable traitor. He expected a rival crew seeking his ship, perhaps that neophyte whelp. And most of all, the Vex in all their exhaustive capacity of causing trouble for his house on this arid, fiery hell hole. The last thing he ever expected was the Taken.

Another bolt, this time, finding its mark in his left shoulder. The agony as its entropic energy seared his carapace and sinew was almost unbearable and the urge to vomit in his mask was intense, but he held it back. He was used to pain and running already, 'why should now be any different?' he thought to himself. Running from Vex, from lightbearers, from rivals and schemers and most certainly, Corsairs. The Taken should be no different. Or so he thought. Much like it all, he'll run. He'll live to fight another day.

Pain. Pain on one hand, is a matter he's had to face on its own accord numerous times. The physical wounds is no issue, however, he's borne numerous scars from Reef Wars to the Red War. The mental ones on the other hand-

--[So much pain...]--

"Enough!" Keftriks snapped. This voice has been bothering him for weeks already, infesting his mind and harassing him with riddles and madness. Drawing out his buried memories of the friends and colleagues he left behind to face his own sins, watching as they got torn to pieces by gunfire, light and mechanical wrath. Even now, the torment reminds him of his own current crew. Mouriks, his own right hand, was swallowed up by one of those damn rifts, his defiant and panicked screaming still fresh in his mind. Toris, his best bodyguard, fending off hordes of the twisted Thrall before she was blasted to pieces by one of those damn orbs the Cabal send.

He turned down the corridor, narrowly dodging a fiery bolt aimed at his head, the sound of a warped Wire Rifle firing off behind him in the process. He was thankful that he survived, but felt that the turn was for nought, as the sound of his pursuers' footsteps only drew closer. He was heaving under his mask. He was fast, but the wounds he sustained started to take their toll. His wounds were pouring precious ether to the floor, losing more and more of the precious lifeblood from his veins.

Loss. Is that what he feels? The exhaustive sensation of having no one and nothing. Never gaining and thus never finding comfort?

--[Shaped by loss. How much more shall fade into the void before you defy eternity?]--

Keftriks only sneered at the remark. He was so close to the hangar bay. So close to securing a Skiff and fleeing this accursed and overrun place. So close, just a few corridors down...

All the Fallen ever knew was to lose. Riis, Twilight Gap, Reef Wars, Wolf Rebellion. It disheartened him. Truly. For his own kind to fight and lose again and again. He joined the House of Dusk in the hopes of finding an escape, and yet he is thrown into more turmoil, again and again. Drawing the anger of the Awoken once more, drawing the ire of the Vex, drawing in the lightbearers again and again and again and again and again and-

--[You seek respite. We can provide it. Accept our blade. Fall upon it.]--

"NO!" Keftriks screams out, defiant of fate. Defiant of the beasts that seek to consume him, seek his will subjugated and controlled. "No..."

He's been running for so long. So tired of fleeing from the faceless hordes behind him. Tired of his failures and traumas. Tired of the pain coursing through every inch of his body. Tired of repeating the cycle again and again.

He made it to the hangar, before him his Skiff made and ready for him, tempting him for escape once more. Perhaps a chance with Eramis and her house of promise, or maybe try his luck with the Old Crews and join their hunt for the relics the Kell of Darkness seeks. But he refused. He collapsed to the floor, tired and despairing. He couldn't bear to just leave behind another cadre of ghosts to haunt him again. He couldn't bear to flee and excuse himself, begging the pardon of his new peers. No more. He just...

The pattering slows behind him, their footsteps start to walk around him, already, he sees their dark shapes stalking into his view, their seething shadows cast on the floor. They know he's done. Know there is no hope for him. Know their purpose here to root and control this place in the name of their master. Lucky creatures. Unerring and untiring, forever having a place and role in their lords' design.

--[You desire eternity. Desire an escape. Desire the world. Desire purpose. We admire this enlightenment. We can free you from the shackles of reaction. Come, child. May you be reborn into new life. Into immortality. Into ecstasy. Into... salvation.]--

Darkness surrounded the floored Captain. His entire body felt cold. His pain slowly sharpened, then dulled. His thoughts slowly, but surely began to vanish. He began to physically rise from the floor, pulled like a puppet on strings. Everything dulled around him. But he didn't care.

"Yes..." Keftriks hollowly, calmly whispers, "my Witness..."

List of appearances

• Destiny: April Update (First appearance)
• Destiny 2: Season of Plunder