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GETAWAY ARTIST

Exotic / Warlock / Arms / Gauntlets

Keep the engine running.

Source: Exotic engrams; extremely rare world drops.

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Getaway Artist
GETAWAY ARTIST
Added in Season 6

Exotic Perks

Dynamic Duo

Dynamic Duo

[Grenade] : Convert your Arc grenade into a Arc Soul and become amplified. The Arc Soul functions as an autonomous turret.

Community Research

Credits
Holding [Grenade] consumes your Arc Grenade to make you Amplified and summon a ' Sentient Arc Soul' for 20 seconds.

Sentient Arc Soul information:
• Counts as generic Arc Ability damage and not Grenade Ability damage
• Grants 5% Grenade Energy once per burst if it damages an enemy (this does not work if you have Devour active)
Last Updated 2024-08-08

Related Collectible

Lore

Getaway Artist

Keep the engine running.

If Thalia is lightning, Ayrin is thunder. You hear him coming, and he likes it that way. He's got a kitbashed heavy bomber that he pulled out of a trash fire. The engine goes THUT-THUT-THUT-THUT, just these big, stupid-sounding percussive booms, and it's like all monsters, man, the noise this thing makes can stop your blood cold.

So. Otto and I load the supplies into the back, and Thalia hops into the passenger seat.

The chumps that run out to stop us are babies. That's the kicker with Warlords—other than ours, there's not a Ghost in sight here. Just civilians who can barely hold their guns without wetting their pants, who can't aim worth a damn, who stick their necks out for the bad guys with eternal life. Real geniuses.

Boo-hoo.

Guess what? We got hungry, too. We starved, too. So when there was food, we took it, and if the Warlords put cannon fodder in our way to slow us down, that wasn't my fault. Wasn't our fault.

Anyway, Ayrin. He stands up in the open-roof cockpit and whoops, and the little devil on his shoulder, a crackling ball of Arc energy, spits bullets behind him. Mows down the idiots as they run straight into the line of fire, like lemmings. And Ayrin doesn't need to shoot anything himself, but he does. For fun.

When he gets enough target practice, and Otto and I are on board, he lets his little blue buddy handle the rest, and he tears out of there like a bat out of hell.

See? We were a well-oiled machine. A perfect team. We could've kept on like that for centuries.

 
 
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