A/N: This is a RWBY OC story that seeks to address the strange lack of sense that RWBY humans seem to have. After all, why rely on a desperate team of teenagers to save the world when you can have an army at your back. There will be humor, mostly sarcasm, and fantastic feats, but this is one of those stories that seeks to make Remnant more brutal and realistic, hence the M rating.

The story is a collaborative effort between myself and Thraus. Neither of us own RWBY (unless he's holding back on me), and we make no promises on update schedules. There is some content in final review, but we both have busy lives. This posting is a teaser, and features characters that may not be seen for a long time. Canon characters will likely be involved in the story, but it is not a direct insertion into the canon adventure. Please feel free to read and review, we are always open to thoughts, questions, and constructive critiques.

NOTICE: THERE WILL BE TRIGGER WARNING WORTHY CONTENT IN THIS STORY. IT WILL NOT BE STATED AGAIN OUTSIDE OF THIS MESSAGE.

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The howl of a Beowolf brought Forrest out of his catnap with a jerk. He relaxed slightly when there were no sounds of distress or fighting around him, but the sound still meant only one thing, the Grimm had come to the town again. He was up on his feet momentarily, hefting his spear and collapsed shield once more. A quick glance around showed little had changed since he had fallen asleep. He and Grizz were in the town's food market building along with the surviving towns people. They had barricaded all of the secondary entrances and built a rough bulwark inside the main door. They had attempted to make spiked poles that stuck out of the bulwark, using broom handles, broken pipes, even a discard crutch. Forrest doubted they would do much, but anything would be more helpful than nothing, and the work of fashioning defenses had helped to boost morale, if only slightly.

The noncombatant members of the town, which was most of them because of the low number of weapons available, were gathered towards the back of the store. They had done their best to stay busy with building, taking stock of the supplies they had, and tending to the injured. There weren't many people left in the town, about fifty had made it to the store, but if they didn't draw in another large group of Grimm then they would probably survive until Sie and Ama returned with transportation.

The impromptu militia members were all nervously manning the bulwark. They looked about, trying to locate the source of the howl, or 'checked' their weapons, using any sort of activity to distract them from the thought of what was coming. The weapons they held had been provided by a small group of White Fang who had apparently been planning some sort of operation in the area but had chosen to assist the town when the original attack had started. The faunus had rallied the town into a militia defense, many giving their lives to the effort, and helped hold the town until AFSG had arrived to tip the balance in the humans' favor. There was only one of the terrorists left. He sat off to one side smoking cigarette while he waited for the new attack to come. Forrest doubted any of them would ever become friends, but he did respect the faunus for choosing to defend these people when they had all likely known that things would not end well. The fact that this particular faunus still stayed, even after his brethren had fallen, and there had been opportunity to leave, indicated either a strong character, or a lack of hope so deep that he had moved to full resignation.

Another howl sounded out in the town. Forrest turned toward the main doors. He had been resting on the exposed side of the bulwark. There wasn't a lot of room between the bulwark and the door, but there was enough room that he and Grizz could move about, but any attacking grim would be funneled through in smaller numbers in the tight doorway. The two huntsmen would act as the first line of defense, being the most experienced, and being the only melee fighters. The militia would be behind them, covering the flanks, and providing supporting fire. Luckily, the setup suited the two huntsmen just fine. Forrest would be the wall, while Grizz would be the hand that smashed the Grimm against it.

The real problem with the entire setup was the lack of escape route. It went against everything they had been trained as huntsmen, where mobility and retreat were strongly encouraged when facing superior foes. As much as huntsman were tough, the best defense they could have was to not get hit, and the best offense was to be alive to fight another day. That philosophy couldn't be applied here though because, even if they had left an escape route open, the townspeople would not have been able to outrun the Grimm and would end up being killed anyway.

Forrest stepped into the doorway to better view the town outside. The store was located at the end of a street, with houses and small shops lining the couple blocks before it ran into the edge of town. The buildings were generally undisturbed, the earlier fight had taken place on the other side of town, but suddenly discarded items lay about the street. The oddity of the debris, coupled with the unusual quiet of the street, created a subtle mystery that caused a slight sense of foreboding. Forrest wasn't bothered by this, because he knew what has caused it. He was just glad there weren't any blatant signs of the battle that had happened, or the loss the town had experienced. As it was the bright sunlight overhead almost made the place seem cheery. Almost.

A light breeze blew down the street, catching a couple scraps of paper in its erratic swirls. A shiver ran down Forrest's spine as the foreboding grew stronger, reminding Forrest of the calm before the storm.

He twitched slightly as Grizz stepped into the doorway next to him. The big man carried his own sense of presence, one of death and destruction, though it held less malice than the Grimm. It was more a feeling of strength and confidence, telling those around not to cross him because they wouldn't succeed. Neither huntsman said a word, instead focusing all their attention on searching for a clue of their enemies' whereabouts. They certainly couldn't see any Grimm; the black shapes were not exactly difficult to pick out in an environment this bright. Forrest closed his eyes and focused on his hearing. He could easily hear the murmurs of conversation and shuffle of movement from inside the store. He could hear the wind blowing about in the street, playing with things the people had left behind like toys for it to poke at. Further away he could make out the sound of a door or shutter banging against the building it hadn't been properly secured to. There as something else though, something Forrest couldn't quite make out. He held up a fist, and a few seconds later the store became deathly quiet, its inhabitants shushed by his command. Forrest focused harder on the sound, wracking his brain for the words to identify it. It was almost like…. like…. scraping?

Instantly his eyes were open, and his face darkened as he spotted the Beowolf as it stepped into the street, two blocks down from them. The entire world seemed to still as if waiting to see what the beast would do. The Beowolf didn't appear to have seen them. It moved into the middle of the street before pausing. There it stopped and stood on its hind legs, sniffing at the air and looking about. Forrest tensed slightly, waiting for it to react to their presence. After a couple of snuffles, it slowly lowered itself back onto all fours before continuing across the street. As it passed out of sight behind a house, Forrest and Grizz both released the breath they had been holding.

A piercing scream shattered the stillness. Forrest jumped in surprise and searched frantically for the source. A small figure burst from the third house on the right. The figure was about the size of a child and appeared to be covered in white and pink colors.

Oh no, Forrest realized horrifically, it's a child.

It was a young girl, to be exact. He estimated she was about ten, had pink and brown colored hair, and wore a white dress with pink accents. She ran into the street, clearly terrified of whatever had frightened her, but she also didn't seem to have any idea of where she was going, just away from the monster. She moved to a car in the street and crouched into the fetal position, crying in terror.

'Neo?'

Forrest turned to the source of the question. One of the men from the town was approaching the bulwark. This is not going to go well.

The girl apparently heard the man's question because she began to call out for him.

'Daddy! Help me, daddy!'

'Neo!'

The man began to move forward purposefully, trying to push past a militia member and climb the bulwark.

'Shit,' Forrest cursed, 'Hold him back!' This is not going well.

'Get him off the wall!'

Forrest turned back to the street, all but certain that the Beowolf would be drawn back by all the noise. As he did so, the front of the house the girl had run out of exploded, and a Beowolf tumbled into the yard. The girl shrieked again, curling up even tighter into herself.

'NOOO!'

The bellow sounded right next to Forrest.

'Grizz!'

Forrest reached out to stop the man, but he was already out of reach. He was drawing his weapon and rushing straight towards the Beowolf, which was beginning to rise. Forrest moved to follow but caught sight of the first Beowolf as it came charging around the corner of a house. More Grimm began to pop out frim around and inside houses up and down the street. Beowolves, Boartusks, Ursa, and even a couple of Griffons flew down from above.

'FUCK! Cover the left side!'

Forrest gestured to the side of the road, directing the militia's attack. With so many Grimm around he couldn't risk leaving the store, even to help Grizz. If he did it would only take a couple of Grimm getting inside to slaughter everyone. He would just have to trust that Grizz would keep a level enough head to not get killed and support him as well as he could from the entrance.

Forrest shifted his weapon into rifle form and lifted the now firearm to his shoulder. He knelt onto his right knee and sighted in on the nearest Grimm to the little girl. The first burst tore into the neck and shoulder of a Beowolf charging up the middle of the street, ruining its foreleg, and causing it to tumble over itself. It probably wasn't dead, but there were more important targets now that its advance was stalled. A charging Boartusk was next. Thankfully, it wasn't rolling yet, so it too was fairly easy to delay. Another Beowolf followed, with three more on its heels. At least one of the monsters went down with a round through the eye, but most were only being delayed temporarily. That was fine with Forrest, he just needed to give Grizz a few more seconds to get the girl.

The barbarian seemed to have other plans though. When he reached the wolf that had come out of the house, he attacked full force, using his massive blade and considerable momentum to cleave it in half. It was definitely dead, and he was now free to grab the girl and bring her back to safety. Grizz, however, did not do the smart and logical thing. Instead he grabbed the lower half of the Beowolf he just killed and threw it bodily into a nearby Boartusk. He followed the throw up with another bellowing charge. His berserk rage turned him into a dervish of steel and muscular flesh which none of the swarming Grimm could withstand.

'Grizz!' Forrest yelled again, hoping to draw him back, 'Pick up the girl and get your ass back here! Grizz!'

The bigger man ignored him though and Forrest growled in frustration as he unloaded an entire magazine into an Ursa's face. The beast backed off under the hail of fire, and Forrest reloaded quickly, years of experience making the motion second nature. He had enough ammunition for now, but it wouldn't last forever against an onslaught like this. He just hoped the militia would also be able to keep it up. So far they had done a reasonable job of holding back the left side, keeping the Grimm from getting into the building or flanking him.

The sustained fire had begun to have an effect, enraging them and drawing more of their focus towards the store. It took some of the heat off Grizz, but, as more Grimm swarmed into the street, the corridor for Grizz to be able to make it back to the store began closing. Forrest increased his fire as much as he could, making every effort to kill or maim every Grimm he targeted.

He fought desperately against the rising tide of black, but it didn't seem to be enough. Just before everything seemed lost, and Grizz was completely swallowed by the writhing black mass, the young girl let out another scream. Forrest looked back over by the car and saw the reason for her increased terror. A Death Stalker was approaching the girl, and the large viscous insect was clearly intent to cause her harm. Forrest swore again as he targeted its face. He wouldn't be able to kill it with his rifle, but maybe he could get a hit on its eyes, convincing it to back off.

The bullets flew all around the Death Stalker's face. Most bounced harmlessly off the white bone armor. It hissed at the attack but kept advancing. As it reached the range where it could strike at the girl, Forrest finally managed to land the hit he needed. The monster screeched and began to flail about wildly, while clawing at is face with its two large pincers. Forrest continued to fire, trying to drive it back, but it held its ground, striking blindly out for the girl, intent on the kill. Grizz chose that moment to rejoin the scene, performing a lunging roll to scoop the girl off the ground and shield her with his body as he ran back toward the store. The Death Stalker, sensing that its quarry was escaping, uncovered its eyes and attacked with a lunging stab at the huntsman. Grizz was unable to dodge or move with the blow, lest he endanger his charge, and was forced to take the full force of the impact. He grunted and stumbled forward, but his aura manifested and prevented him from being fully impaled. Grizz continued to run toward the store, but Forrest could tell that the fight had taken a lot out of him. He switched his weapon back to a spear and deployed his shield into its kite form.

'Help them inside,' he ordered as he charged forward to protect his teammate.

His first opponent was a rolling Boartusk. He bodily collided with the side of the monster, forcing it to unravel where he struck it with his spear, piercing it through the cheek and out the other side of its head, just below the skull. He twisted the spear and withdrew it before thrusting out towards an approaching Beowolf. He caught this Grimm in the chest, likely puncturing a lung. The beast's insides were shredded more as he withdrew the blade, but he didn't have time to pay it further attention as he moved on to another Grimm. He began backing up, one step at a time, as he struck out constantly. A thrust here, a swing there. Some strikes killed, others removed limbs, but all helped him keep the monsters at bay as he moved back to relative safety. There were too many Grimm for him to escape unscathed, and while he blocked as many blows as he could, there were some hits he just couldn't stop.

The last blow he took was from the Death Stalker. It had worked its way up through the mob and struck at him with its tail. Forrest managed to block the tail from hitting him directly, but he was forced to take the full force behind the attack and was thrown back through the store entrance.

He got back up as quickly as he could balance himself, expecting Grimm to be rushing the entrance at any moment. The militia held the hoard at bay for a few moments, killing some smaller grim with their concentrated fire, but it wouldn't stop an Ursa, or the Death Stalker. Forrest was confused why Grizz wasn't helping hold the entrance. He spared a moment to look about and located the man off to one side of the entrance. He had been pulled over the bulwark but was now slumped limply against the wall of the shop. His sword was on the ground next to him, but he showed no signs of movement. One of the townspeople appeared to be inspecting him for injuries, but there was no indication that he would be back in the fight soon.

Damn it, this is not good.

Forrest felt a spike of panic at the sight of his friend's condition. The man clearly was worse than Forrest had thought and needed medical help. Unfortunately, with the Grimm pushing the entrance of the store there wasn't likely going to be any help waltzing up the street any time soon. Worse, their defense had just gotten a lot weaker, now relying solely on him as its linchpin.

Forrest took a breath and squashed the panic back down. There was only one course of action for this situation, to be the wall. He had to stand, keeping the Grimm at bay. The militia would help him kill the monsters, but he needed to hold them back from getting inside. There was no secondary plan now, no backup, no escape. He deployed his shield to full tower form and strode toward the main door once more, striking out at a Beowolf that had just made it past the entrance. The beast went down, where a militia member finished it off with a burst. He stepped fully into the doorway and braced against the multitude of attacks that bashed against his shield. He struck out again and again with his spear, not hardly needing to aim as so many beasts tried to fit into the small gap created by the door way. He gritted his teeth against the force of the blows, the jarring force pushing him slightly back.

I cannot move, if they get past me everyone is dead. Grizz will be dead.

Forrest readjusted his feet, regaining the couple of inches he has lost, bracing himself again. A Boartusk charged, and he shoved forward to meet the monster at the last moment. Both combatants rebounded from the blow, but Forrest recovered more quickly and gored the beast with his spear.

I will not be moved.

The tide continued to press against him. Grimm bodies fell to the ground, but more came, climbing over the bodies of their fellows, even the fallen began to evaporate. An Ursa attacked, pounding him with its great mass. Forrest could do little except weather the attack, waiting for an opening to strike at the arms of the bear, creating an opening in its form where he could strike a killing blow.

I will not be moved!

More Grimm came, and more Grimm died. He was tired, he could feel his aura depleting quickly, and small scratches and cuts began to show in his form. Although his shield could take most of the force of the blows, some Grimm and longer claws and were able to strike at his arms and shoulders as the bashed against him. He refused to retreat though, having mentally accepted that doing so would result in the deaths of everyone inside, and the only way he was willing to allow that was if he were dead first. It brought a whole new meaning to the phrase, 'Over my dead body.'

A Griffon flew down from above striking at him as it landed. He stumbled slightly, lifting his shield off the ground to keep if from being overextended. The beast made another attack, this time trying to take him into its mouth to swallow him. Its beak caught the top and bottom of his shield and drew him forward, trying to raise him into the air so it could use gravity to assist. He struck out around his shield once more though, the long blade of his spear biting deep into the soft flesh inside the monster's mouth. It screeched and flailed, nearly ripping his shoulder out if its socket before he was able to strike the roof of its mouth again and put and end to its existence.

No! I will not be moved!

Forrest resettled once more in the doorway, planting his shield. With the large body of the Griffon out of the way more Grimm attacked, and Forrest continued to hold his ground. His muscles ached from the constant tensing, and his bones creaked with every blow. He continued to hold though, his aura manifesting more and more as he relied more and more on his will power to keep fighting.

A slight shaking of the ground alerted him that something even bigger was coming and Forrest risked a peak around his shield to see what it was. The Death Stalker was lumbering his way at full speed, intent to smash through his defense. Another spike of panic welled up within him at the sight. There was no way he could resist that. It wasn't a matter of strength or will power, at the end of the day physics was king in fighting, and although the scorpion wasn't moving terribly fast, the impact of its large mass against him would apply so much force that there was no way he wouldn't be thrown out of place. He simply didn't weigh enough.

It didn't matter, he had to fight it. If his defense failed, then everyone inside the store would be killed. The entire town would be slaughtered, and all their efforts would be for nothing. If he failed the Grizz would die. He thought about the impact his and Grizz's deaths would have on Sie and Ama. He wasn't entirely sure how the older man would take it, but he suspected the man would wall up once more, effectively killing himself emotionally. The loss of all three emotional bonds with her team would probably hit Ama even harder, and he was realistic that her chances wouldn't be good after that. Both members might live on, but it likely wouldn't be more than going through the motions because their muscles demanded activity. He couldn't do that to them. He couldn't allow the deaths of so many people. He couldn't fail in his defense.

'I. WILL. NOT. BE. MOVED!'

Forrest roared out his defiance, pouring his entire being into his defense as the Death Stalker collided with him. It was difficult for Forrest to describe what happened in that moment. It felt like there was a huge weight laid upon him, but he didn't know how much of it was caused by any one source. It was possible the sensation came from the exhaustion in his muscles, burning as they continued to hold up his heavy equipment. It could have come from the weight of the Death Stalker, the large Grimm colliding with his shield with such force that any normal human would have been crushed instantly. It may have been from stress of the situation, the responsibility that he felt creating a psychological reaction to feel physical weight on his shoulders. Something resounded within him though that none of those were the case. His souled seemed to thrum within him. This was its full presence, finally released for the first time. This was his semblance. He felt heavy simply because because he was, he had increased his mass so that he would not be moved, and he was not moved.

Physics dictates that when two bodies collide an equal and opposite force is applied to both bodies. This force is simplified to be calculated as mass multiplied by acceleration. The large mass of the Death Stalker, combined with the sudden acceleration of its impact with the huntsman, created a very large force. Because this force must be applied equally to both bodies, the body will less mass receives a higher acceleration, whereas the body with greater mass sees very little acceleration. Under normal circumstances, the impact of the Death Stalker with the huntsman would result with the huntsman being thrown back, due to the large mass of the Death Stalker, but thanks to his newly unlocked semblance, this was not the case for Forrest. The force of the blow had been so strong that the concrete floor below him had cracked, but his footing remained firm, and he only swayed slightly with the blow. He was not moved, and physics worked in his favor. The Death Stalker, now being the smaller mass, bounced off his shield and stumbled back a few feet, stunned by the blow.

Adrenaline was pumping through his system so strongly that Forrest didn't stop to think about the bizarre turn of events, his mind whirling to take advantage of the circumstances.

I need to attack quickly, strike at its face while it's still stunned.

He struck out, moving lightning quick, his arm and weapon seeming to weigh nothing as they snapped forward, but the blow just glanced off the thick bone armor of the beast's face.

Shit. I need to strike fast and hit hard.

He struck out again, again with the speed and weightlessness from the first blow, but just before impact the sensation changed, and his muscles burned with the sudden weight of his arm and spear. He overextended and needed to lean slightly more of his weight on his shield to keep from losing his balance, but the blow struck with much greater force than the first. A loud crack sounded, and the bone armor split in half where he struck between two of the creature's eyes. His long blade sunk deep into the softer flesh of the monster's skull, piercing its brain. The loss of coherent brain function caused the Death Stalker's muscles to contract erratically, and its limbs thrashed about erratically. Forrest withdrew his spear and hid behind his shield to prevent from being struck accidently until the beast flopped onto its side and curled in on itself. He drew a breath as it stilled and used the sudden calmness to take in the rest of the situation.

Grimm still moved about outside, but they were fewer in numbers than before, and not more large monsters appeared. Forrest could see the end, and hope began to rise within him that they would make it out of this. The hope lent energy to his tired muscles, and he shifted back into his defense once more, preparing to finish up the rest of the hoard.

The beasts came crashing in again, but the relative strength of their blows was not the same. Forrest knew that Grimm did not respond psychologically to the deaths of their fellow monsters as humans might, but the beasts did not seem to attack with the same ferocity as before. In the end though, they still attacked, and the defenders of the store still fought them back.

It took another ten minutes or so to finish off the last of the monsters, and, when the last Beowolf had been felled, Forrest waited for a moment for another blow to fall. When none came he looked tentatively around his shield but could spot none of the black monsters anywhere in the street or houses. He released some of the tension in his body, rising from his half crouch behind his shield. There were no Grimm to be seen, whether dead or alive, and there was no sound in the street except the wind rustling through the trash. A cheer rose up behind him, first from one militia member, then another. It quickly spread to all the townspeople within the store. He relaxed even more, dropping his shoulders and lowering his spear from a ready position. Forrest allowed the jubilation of the moment to wash over him, soothing the stress and anxiety that had risen in him during the fight. They had done it, they had held off the Grimm, and no one had been lost.

Forrest's countenance darkened at that thought. He turned back to the interior of the building. The militia members clapped each other on the back, or gave high fives, laughing in relief. The townspeople further back in the store were hugging and laughing as well, chatting animatedly. He could see the pink haired girl and her father, dancing a little jig in celebration. Forrest was glad they were happy, that they had survived, but, in the end, he didn't know any of them, and they weren't really his main concern.

There, still slumped against the wall, was Grizz. A bandage had been wrapped around his shoulder, but there was no visible blood on it. Forrest thought that was a good thing, and the wound must be minor, but any wound of that sort didn't seem like it would be enough to knock out the big man.

Forrest walked over and set his gear against the wall. He kicked Grizz's leg, hoping to stir him into wakefulness.

'Hey man, time to wake up.'

The barbarian didn't respond, so Forrest tried again. He crouched down next to the man and put his hand on the man's unbandaged shoulder and shaking him gently.

'Grizz.'

Again, there was no stirring.

Forrest placed his fingers on the man's neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, though it felt weak and inconsistent. Forrest sighed, relaxing slightly. His teammate was alive, and his unconscious state was likely just a shutdown forced by his aura to help him heal.

*Ahem*

Somebody cleared their throat gently next to Forrest. He looked up to see a middle-aged woman. She was wearing the same clothes as the townsperson who had been next to Grizz earlier, so he supposed she was the one who bandaged him. She held out a hand in greeting. Forrest stood up and shook it.

'Marion Osten.'

'Forrest Halden.'

'I did what I could for your friend. He had several minor cuts and scrapes that were already beginning to heal, but the main issue is the large stab in his back.'

Forrest grimaced at the description. He didn't know what exactly had struck Grizz hard enough to injure him, but his fears immediately pointed towards the Death Stalker.

'I don't think the wound itself would be too much of a problem, aura can heal some amazing things, but it continued to seep blood even as I tried to stitch it up. There also seemed to be some discoloration around the wound, so I'm not sure if it was poisoned, or if there is an infection beginning already.'

Damn, Forrest thought. His fears had almost certainly been confirmed, and it was all but guaranteed that the Death Stalker had struck the blow. The poison in the barb in its tail was difficult to counteract, and Grizz needed real medical attention immediately. He sighed heavily.

'Thank you, I truly appreciate you doing what you could.'

'You're welcome, I wish I could do more, but I don't have any proper supplies.'

'It's fine, if you would be willing to continue doing whatever you can I would be most grateful.'

'Absolutely, it's the least I can do. Afterall, we owe the two of you our lives.'

Forrest smiled thinly before picking up his equipment and stepping away. There wasn't anything he could truly do to help Grizz, and somebody still needed to keep watch. He would be sure to be there if his friend woke up, but for now he just needed to keep busy to keep himself from being overwhelmed by the stress of his friend's condition. He looked around briefly once more at the group before walking back over to the main entrance. He stepped outside and examined the street once more. It was still quiet and calm, only the wind moving about, and there was nothing to cause him alarm. He knelt down and began collecting the empty magazines he had strewn about in the early stage of the defense. There was a box of few dozen spare rounds that Sie and Ama had left, and while he doubted they would be attacked again, he wanted to make sure to be as prepared as possible. He retrieved the box and found a spot on the bulwark that was reasonably comfortable and had a good view out into the street. He glanced over one more time at Grizz's form before sighing heavily again and beginning the repacking process.