My Witchy Week Three Survival Guide in Destiny 2

The Tower felt different tonight, didn’t it? Maybe it was the strange hum emanating from the H.E.L.M., a sound that seemed to vibrate in my very bones. It was the third week of the Season of the Witch, 2026, and the air was thick with a dark energy I hadn’t felt since the final battle with the Witness. My ghost, flickering with a nervous light, projected a long list of tasks. Nine new Seasonal Challenges. They weren’t just chores; they were a path to power, a story waiting to be written in gunfire and Light. I tightened the grips on my new Kept Confidence hand cannon, its frame still smelling faintly of Hive chitin. It was time.

I started where all good stories do: the beginning. The quest log blinked for Acolyte’s Ascent III, a name that promised nothing but trouble. It demanded I walk further down "The Bladed Path." This wasn’t just a checkmark. This was a journey into the heart of Savathûn’s lingering schemes. I launched into Savathûn's Spire, the towering throne-world architecture shimmering with malicious intent. Each combat encounter felt like a stanza in a dark poem, a prelude to the chaos awaiting in the Altars of Summoning. The unique mission there was a symphony of violence, a complex ritual we had to disrupt before it could reach its crescendo. Finishing the quest’s third week wasn't just victory; it was understanding our enemy a little better.

My focus then shifted to efficiency. There was a challenge called Athamethodology, a word so arcane it could have been a spell itself. The requirement was deceptively simple: complete 18 encounters in the Spire or Altars with Seasonal weapons. I smiled, loading out with a trifecta of new power. The Kept Confidence was a steady, reliable friend. The Eremite, a fusion rifle, crackled in my secondary slot, promising to disintegrate anything that got too close. And for real crowd control? The Eleatic Principle machine gun. It sang a steady song of destruction, mowing down waves of Thrall and Acolytes. The bonus progress for a full seasonal loadout was a game-changer, a quiet nod from the game’s developers that rewarded commitment.

But raw firepower isn’t everything. Magic, in its many forms, is the soul of a Guardian. Kinesic Spellcraft was a trial of sheer, focused will. One hundred ability final blows, fifty of them against the tough, orange-bar major enemies. The Spire became my crucible. I donned my Sunbracers, feeling the familiar rush of solar energy. The corridors echoed not just with gunfire, but with the roar of a thousand miniature suns. I became a celestial pyromaniac, floating above the battlefield, raining solar grenades down on the Hive. For a Hunter, an Arcstrider’s punch would have done the same; a dance of lightning and fury. By the time my ghost chimed completion, I stood on a mountain of smoldering ash and Arc-charged chitin.

Next on the list was a touch of nostalgia mixed with pure explosive fun. Doom and Bloom wanted me to defeat 200 targets with Fusion Rifles or Grenade Launchers. Seasonal combatants in the Altars gave double progress, so I farmed that mode, but the real joy was the weapon choice. I reached into my vault for a relic from a bygone era, a weapon still unmatched in its class: Salvager’s Salvo. I had picked it up from the Monument to Lost Lights ages ago. It’s a wave-frame grenade launcher, and its secret is a perk called Chain Reaction. One well-placed shot into a group of enemies, and they would all erupt in a cascading explosion of elemental energy. It wasn't just defeating enemies; it was painting with destruction.

A Guardian’s life isn’t all about battle, though. Sometimes, it’s about community. Commendation Appreciation reminded me of that. I needed to give out ten commendations in the ritual playlists. This wasn’t a grind; it was a ritual of respect. I dipped into some Gambit matches. After a particularly tense round where a teammate invaded and wiped the entire enemy team, I was more than happy to award them the “Playmaker” medal. It’s a small thing, a digital nod of approval, but in a world so full of darkness, it’s a tiny spark of camaraderie. It felt good to acknowledge skill, and for the small bundle of XP and Bright Dust, it was the easiest challenge of the week.

Then came the call of Neomuna. The Neptune Activities challenge was my workout for the day. Complete bounties, patrols, public events, and Lost Sectors. The neon-drenched city, still recovering from the Shadow Legion’s invasion, has a unique energy. I picked up a stack of bounties from the Cloud Strider Nimbus, their youthful enthusiasm still a little jarring. I made my way to the Thrilladrome Lost Sector. It’s a perfect loop for rapid precision kills. The Vex there march in such neat, predictable rows—it’s almost polite how they line up to be dismantled. I cycled through weapons, honing my aim, my movements becoming a fluid dance of reload and fire. The sheer number of things to do on Neomuna made the 50,000 XP feel less like a reward and more like a bonus for a good workout.

Back in the playlists, Ritual Violence had a famously misleading description. It sounded like it should be in the seasonal content, but it was all about multikills in the Vanguard Ops playlist. 25 double kills. It was simple, brain-off fun. I equipped my Forbearance, a wave-frame grenade launcher from a Vow of the Disciple raid I’d run years ago, and loaded into a strike. Packed corridors full of Dregs were my playground. A single shot would vaporize a whole squad. The challenge was over in minutes, a pure, distilled power trip.

Then came the roar of the Iron Banner. Iron Sharpens Iron was a test of patience and grit. Fifteen match completions, with wins counting double. There is a primal, heavy feel to Lord Saladin’s tournament. The clang of axes, the roar of the fire pits. I threw on my old Iron Banner armor—the set with the wolf motif—and jumped in. Some matches were a clean, strategic victory; others were a total rout. But every single one taught me something new about the current meta, the latest strategies players were using to control the Cabal turrets on the Fortress map. It wasn't just about the 25,000 XP at the end; it was about proving myself against the best.

Finally, the ultimate test for the ultimate challenger: Ultimate Champion. 60 Champion kills in Hero-difficulty Nightfalls or higher. I wasn't going to just do this; I was going to master it. My fireteam, my closest clanmates, and I set our sights on a Legend Nightfall. These aren’t just bullet sponges; they require coordination, the right mods, and perfect timing. The stun sound of an Overload Champion, the shattering of a Barrier shield—it’s a symphony of tactical violence. The higher difficulty meant better rewards and a palpable sense of danger. But the real prize will come when Grandmaster Nightfalls open. The thought of farming those, with a coordinated group, for Adept weapons and Masterwork materials in just two runs, was the beacon that pulled us forward. We ended the night, battered but victorious, with a score of Champion kills under our belt.

As I stood back in the H.E.L.M., claiming a huge bundle of XP and Bright Dust, the hum of the seasonal machinery seemed less oppressive. It was the sound of progress. This week wasn't just about completing a list; it was about weaving my own legend into the season’s dark narrative. Each challenge complete, each Champion felled, was another sentence in the story of the Witch. And the story, I knew, was only getting darker from here.