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 |
|
29 | |
| Range |
|
64 | |
| • Damage Falloff | |||
| Stability |
|
45 | |
| Handling |
|
37 | |
| Reload Speed |
|
46 | |
| • Reload Time | |||
| Aim Assistance |
|
44 | |
| Ammo Generation |
|
45 | |
| Zoom |
|
16 | |
| Airborne Effectiveness |
|
10 | |
| Recoil |
|
80 | |
| Rounds Per Minute | 450 | ||
| Magazine | 36 | ||
| Attack | 0 | ||
Curated Roll
Lore
Breakneck
"Bar's a great place to settle disputes. Everybody goes there wantin' to drop the mask." —The Drifter
"Y'know," said Cenric, a thick-necked Risen with a bulging vein in his forehead, "I've always thought you were a sneak. But after five drinks on your dime, I'm feeling pretty fond of you, Drifter."
Everyone laughed. Drifter smiled, feet kicked up on the bar. The rifle holstered on his back was heavy with promise.
"You're a real smooth talker," he said. "I wonder… You whisper those same sweet nothings to your pal Lord Rience?"
The bar fell quiet. The vein in Cenric's forehead began to twitch.
"Listen, no one's rockin' the boat here," Jaak spoke up. "We shut Rience out, just like you said."
"Funny. I seen you in that valley, too. And Otto, and Ayrin, and Thalia…" He looked at them each in turn. "Guess my eyes are playing tricks on me."
Cenric pushed his stool back. "You have something to say, say it plain."
"Well, Cen—my eyes might be shot, but this…" He tapped the side of his nose. "Just fine. And I smell a rat." He sniffed. "A whole mess of 'em, actually."
Cenric stood up. That vein of his looked about ready to pop. Drifter let his feet down as he reached for his rifle, asp-quick. "And you know what we do with rats, don't you, brother."