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
|
|
33 | ||
|
|
45 | ||
| • Damage Falloff | |||
|
|
50 | ||
|
|
45 | ||
|
|
47 | ||
| • Reload Time | |||
|
|
46 | ||
|
|
45 | ||
|
|
17 | ||
|
|
15 | ||
|
|
79 | ||
| 600 | |||
| 64 | |||
| 0 | |||
Curated Roll
Lore
Pro Memoria
"I'm with you, old man. Whether you like it or not."
Targe looked up at the sky above, a swirl of stars encircling the Traveler. They seemed so remote and untouchable, despite the pine trees stretching up in jagged spikes towards them. They, at least, were touchable. He let out a sigh. He had taken to doing so not because he breathed, but because his Guardian used it as a blanket emotional response. Sometimes the tics of loved ones stick like pine sap. It drips off the tree and onto an unsuspecting shell… dust settles in, and nothing can quite clean it off again. Always sticky.
He heard the muffled voices from inside the cabin.
Targe's thoughts wandered back to the gun. The moment stretched on for an eternity. He would have sacrificed everything to give Zavala what he asked for. He would have taken a thousand bullets; he would have gladly met his end if it meant the boy could live again.
"Why not?" he asked, looking up at the Traveler. "You make the rules. I'm here for him. I'd do anything for him. Why am I powerless?"
There was, as always, no answer.
***
Many, many lifetimes later, Targe looked up at the sky above, at a swirl of stars that were not stars, clouds that were not clouds. Something was missing. He almost chuckled at the thought of the Traveler having a smaller Traveler hanging somewhere up there in its made-up atmosphere. It seemed like an oversight.
He heard the campfire crackle as somber yet hopeful voices behind him shared their triumphs and pains. If anything inside the Traveler was real, it was in those voices, the bonds of tender love, infinite longing, and fierce loyalty radiating more intense warmth than the campfire itself.
He sighed. Even here, the trees dripped sap.
