Classified Item
Bungie has the ability to expose information in the API that, for whatever reason, is not yet ready to be seen. We call these items "classified".
Sometimes classified items eventually are revealed to be real, in-game items. However, they are usually just junk data that made it into the API that isn't intended to be seen.
We include these items in the database solely to provide a complete view of what is in the API files. You should not take the presence of this item as a guarantee of something coming in a future update or attempt to analyze its presence too deeply. Doing so likely will only lead to disappointment.
This item is categorized as classified because:
- It is a dummy responsible for generating items purchased from vendors or obtained from opening engrams.
Special Perks
Stats
| Impact |
|
23 | |
| Range |
|
33 | |
| • Damage Falloff | |||
| Stability |
|
47 | |
| Handling |
|
27 | |
| Reload Speed |
|
35 | |
| • Reload Time | |||
| Aim Assistance |
|
80 | |
| Ammo Generation |
|
55 | |
| Zoom |
|
18 | |
| Airborne Effectiveness |
|
10 | |
| Recoil |
|
55 | |
| Rounds Per Minute | 540 | ||
| Magazine | 35 | ||
| Attack | 0 | ||
Curated Roll
Lore
Gridskipper
"No stars overhead. Best not to look up." —Amanda Holliday
He heard something and snapped awake. There it was again: the skittering of clawed feet above him. In a moment, he had grabbed the Pulse Rifle from near the door and was outside.
He saw nothing but the lip of the tar paper roof against the undulating night sky. That didn't mean anything—they could turn invisible. Everyone knew that. They could just be standing there, one or two, or a dozen, staring down at him.
He looked for shimmering outlines, but his vision was filled by the swaying grid of the dark purple night. He squinted as a ripple rolled high overhead, and the grid seemed to move closer, like an enormous sheet settling over the City.
A wave of pressure pushed down, building in his sinuses. He pressed a hand to his eyes. A deep thrum filled his head, and he heard their claws on the walls all around him, their hissing laughter.
He turned toward the street, weapon raised. He felt his heart thudding in his chest and sweat beading on his back.
Another noise: someone pounding on glass behind him.
He spun and one of them was in his house, looking out at him through the window. His sweaty fingers fumbled to turn the safety off as it opened its mouth—
"Dad," the Fallen shouted, "you're standing in the garden!"
He looked down dumbly. Cherry tomatoes were crushed beneath his bare feet.
His son yelled again, no longer a Fallen, merely irritated and half asleep. "Come back inside!"
Hands shaking, he stepped out of the garden. He fought the urge to look into the sky as he walked back to the house.
