This story, as many do, begins with a child.

Ago was born to a house of loving parents in a thriving village.  His every milestone was met with every ounce of grandeur one could ask for.  The effect of celebration and promotion were lost on him though, for all the wealth in the world could not fit in his tiny shoes.

He struggled to make friends, spent as much time behind closed doors as he spent in pursuit of the wildest of things.  At the age of six, his phases turned rebellious, and to that end his parents sought consultations.

He was tested, conventionally at first, yet as he progressed the doctor requested the use of a more archaic method.  Ago was handed a plate, and asked a leading question.  By the time the words had left the man’s however, the boy’s attention was gone.  Fixated on the metal plate.

Ago quickly revealed hidden pressure pads, a golden light filling the machine as step by step, he dismantled the trick puzzle.  His brow furrowed at what he found, and began to examine some of the newfound components.

The others were stunned.  His parents were awestruck, and the doctor pleaded to have him taken in.  Negotiation began while the boy was in another world, and when he returned, he saw no reason to argue.

By the third day, he was transferred as an initiate of the supercarrier.  By the time he’d made bearings to make sense of, Ago had faced down a number of focus groups and a panel of scientists.  Through a set of hangar doors, he was the youngest intern remaining.

It was the last he saw of his parents for a very long time.  He was taught to rebuild what he took apart, and identify new and more complicated elements.  They couldn't finish those lessons fast enough.  Ago was introduced as an apprentice to a number of onboard services, and kept busy with a number of tasks that didn’t fall under his crosshairs.  The plan was to give his talents time to set, and perhaps set him up with a more integrated role in the meantime.

During one of these discussions however, he pushed the envelope.  A gauntlet resting in the corner of one of the shops had caught his eye when he’d entered, and reaching a lull in his tasks, he snuck over with his idle hands and climbed up next to the piece.

The adults put it to the back of their minds when the diagnostics chirped, but to the IT’s summons, they found a daunting sight.

Ago was in the process of sorting through a myriad of instruments, defensive mechanisms, computational equipment, and even tweaking a life support mechanism.  As he worked, the mechanical glove was put through paces which normally require weeks or training, as well as the suit’s power source.

Live cogs and motor functions sprung to life under his ministries, some of which were partially constructed.  The boy hopped down to explore the mechanism further, when he noticed the six pairs of eyes on him, and the time of his lull reaching his end.  Wrist deep in the cookie jar, he turned and covered himself with his clipboard, “Did I miss anything?”

His case manager’s logbook crashed to the ground.  Ago was seldom involved with deskwork again.

Five years later, Ago had become the spearhead and ace of the Supercarriers vanguard.  A gathering of labor unions, territorial defense, and internal affairs.  His innate talent with machines enabled him to use armor, exosuits and on sight heavy machinery to exceptional effect.  He’d developed an affinity for threat assessment, be it the essence of subterfuge or common error.  Granted the confidence of the top brass, he tended to divert a crisis before they could be realized, and enable the vanguard the opportunity to put contingencies in place.

The Vanguard wasn’t perfect, nor was the trust in their cause blind.  Their armor’s life support incorporated MRI and polygraphing technology.  By the time a soldier returned from a mission, every doctorate in the valley could have filed a credible diagnosis.

Ago was frustrating in this way.  He would use his life support system as a booster, his jettison as a foothold, and overclock the sensors to the point where he knew more about the integrity of a building than the original architects did.  The others produced enough field data to warrant their own server building.  Whether or not he was in the suit, they ended up with more feedback than the block it came from.  He would push all the right buttons to insight the cutting edge, and surprise the managerial crew with feelings of semi-redundancy.

They received more from him than any formal record could attest, and forced the supercarrier crew to surpass their own legacies.  He was too good to take for granted in his own element.  It was a solemn day to see him go.

As happy as he was, and grateful for the reception aboard the supercarrier, Ago didn’t want to become a leader.  His respect for their accomplishments gradually outpaced his growth with the keys to the city.  When his prowess descended from a plateau, he tendered his resignation, and hung up the suit.

The head of the spear promised his allegiance and his regards, that his greatest regret would be to miss out on the triumph he saw ahead.  Ago's self-appointed mentor, the greying overseer for the requisitions corps, was often approached when the boy had an ear to bend.  He had - begrudgingly - become fond of the boy and felt deeply, the uncertainty leading up to the teen’s decision.  Ago was ill suited to become a lone wolf, as he’d drawn strength from his peers throughout his career.  Cutting all ties was dangerously close to swallowing bedrock.

The omens of change began to stir, and reached the desk sergeant in a moment of reverie.  In the silhouette of an evening sun, he brought forth one last request.  To take on a task that would put him at odds with his element, and place a major weight on his shoulders.

Quickly echoed in consensus within the supercarrier, the silver haired, copper-blended bright eyed kid, was selected as contender for the changing of the guardians.

He would go on to become the guardian of the fire wheel, and the swordsman of dawn.