The Grey Syndicate: Grimm of Ages Past

by pheonixgrey343

For ages, huntsmen have been battling Grimm, varying from Beowolves to Nevermores, King Taijitus to Beringels. But while students around Remnant gather for the Vytal festival, a new team is gathered for a far worse, a far more Ancient threat than those of what some consider run-of-the-mill Grimm. (Reboot)

1. Chapter 1: The Mountain

0ooooooooooooo0

Grimm Wilds

The Grimm Wilds between Vacuo and Vale were dominated between two main climates. To the southwest and west lay the desert, sand dunes rolling and scorching hot days that drove even most Grimm into the shadows of rocks and holes. To the east and northeast lay the forests that preceded Forever Fall and the Emerald forest, the most seemingly serene, and therefore obviously the most Grimm-infested and dangerous place.

Then, to the north of the bridge between the two kingdoms lay the Shadowed Heights. Here, while Grimm were mainly more organized and larger in pack size, were more spread out, and their movements predictable.

That is how I have survived for many years. Learned their movements, set my traps, gathered my resources, and forged my weapons. The only danger was Wildsmen, though most don't dare journey to the mountains, knowing what awaits those who try to play King of the Hill.

I woke up that morning from a dreamless sleep, swinging my legs off of the couch on which I sat, looking to the long-dead fire from last night. I sighed, then knelt beside it, sweeping the ashes off into a plastic bucket before loading the fireplace with a couple of logs. I took my Zippo from a pouch on my belt and it flared to life as I pulled a Firestarter, cardboard from an egg carton, filled with lint and dipped in candle wax. I lit the device, then cast it into the fireplace, replacing the Zippo into my pocket.

The flames ignited the wood, and soon the fire was blazing. I pulled the long-sleeve armored shirt over my grey T-shirt. Armor plating covered my biceps and chest, lining the sides as spine, as well as the shoulder blades and kidneys.

On my left arm was a midnight-black gauntlet that I never removed. It seemed simple in design, rounded with only a slight indention on the top of the arm and a few inlets on the knuckles and underneath the wrist. I soon attached the right gauntlet, which was also a black gauntlet, but not as deep as the left in darkness. On the top was a sheathed dagger, the handle extending slightly over the wrist, the point reaching two inches past my elbow. On the underside rested a small compartment where I kept a few tools, such as my lock-picking gear and a whetstone, among other things.

I still wore my pants, dark grey trousers with pieces of armor currently latched onto the thighs, along with a line of three sheaths on my right thigh, holding the three throwing knives, and the attachment on my left which held two extra clips for my two main firearms. Over-the calf chrome-plated boots with my trademark insignia, a black tribal flame over a silver surface, at the crown. A malleable plate covered my crotch, because what man wouldn't want to protect his dignity?

I began to pull on the rest of my gear before starting the day, ready for any anomalies. Recently, one of the packs had split, a mixed group of many different types of Grimm, and the new pack had yet to choose a consistent migration path, so it was one of the many dangers that lurked in the Grimm Wilds. And something had tripped off my sensors at the base of the mountains, so I had to check that a challenging Wildsman hadn't entered my territory.

Oh, Wildsman are what we call ourselves, those of us who create our own lives outside in the Wilds, without the protection of the towns and small cities.

I've been in these mountains for three years, all alone. Three of my fifteen years, with little contact with civilization.

People always ask me if that can make you go mad. I guess we all lose it a little, because we're used to what we left, not how society changed. Isolation keeps us out of the loop. But, I don't think I'd count myself as one of the crazy ones. Those are the ones that started to make their own rules, rules that had no moral or order. Those were the barbarians. Humans and Faunus alike that rape and murder as they please, then boast about it in the nearest bar at the end of the day.

Those ones didn't usually make it out alive from the mountains.

I pulled on my belt, which held my Desert Eagle on my right hip, and a bag the size of a cantaloupe on the same side, just above and to the right of my back pocket. Following that same path, my hunting knife was at the center of my back. On my left hip was my double scabbard, which was two scabbards that connected magnetically to each other and then to a plate on that side. One held my long sword, Shadowsteel, the other held my rapier.

All along the belt were extra rounds of varying types. Shotgun shells, .50 caliber rounds, et cetera, et cetera, as well as pouches containing different tools, like a place that held a pair of handcuffs, one pouch that held a rag doused in different types of Dust, and other such items that I would need to use.

Next, I strapped on my Y-belt, which was basically a bandolier-and-a-half. It ran from my left shoulder down to my right hip, buckling to the belt with two plastic buckles on either side of the hipbone, and that section held another dagger as well as more bullets and other things. At the center, right at the bottom of where my pectoral muscles met, the bandolier met with its half, which looped around the right shoulder to meet the back of the bandolier. Together, they formed a sort of 'Y', hence its name.

At the back, where these two sections met, was an electromagnetic plate. After pulling on my black trench coat, which had pockets containing even more rounds of ammo and my Spring Spear, I looked to the side of the couch, where a case with a rifle's butt protruding out of the open side. Attached to the case was a quiver of arrows, kept inside by tiny magnets only strong enough to hold them inside until I reached back and pulled them out, and a slender pole extended from yet another magnetic plate on the outside of the case right next to the quiver. I slid this case, which I called the Triple Case, into place on my back, the case attached to the plate on the back by way of the larger plate on the flat side. This result in the gun case and quiver extending over my right shoulder slightly, and the pole extending out from my left.

Finally, I pulled on my mask, tucking it under my shirt before pulling it over my nose, mouth, and ears. Hard Kevlar plates covered the jaw and chin, while metallic black steel covered my neck in sections, covering the jugular and the back of my neck, even though the armored chest had a collar that stuck straight up in a V.

I looked around, then started. To make breakfast. I started by pulling my mask off of my mouth, Now that it was in place, I wouldn't really need it until I left one of my many hideouts on the mountain. Next, I stepped to a cupboard and removed a cast-iron skillet, a few utensils, and a cooler from where it sat next to the cupboard. Inside this cooler were eggs and bacon from when I had last travelled to where one of the farmers from the nearest city had dropped them off, along with other supplies for the winter season.

I placed the skillet on top of the fire, then waited for a few seconds before taking grease from last night's dinner of biscuits and bacon, then spreading it over the skillet as a non-sticking agent, then placed the eggs on it, which began to cook.

I sighed, as I glanced outside. It was a clear day, perfect for my plans for the day.

As soon as breakfast was ready, I ate quickly, then erased all signs someone had stayed the night. The fire was destroyed, I clean all of the kitchen supplies with snow outside, thankful as always for my gloves, then set out for the day. I started easy, but my eyes were watchful as I scouted the forest for the signs of any Wildsman who crossed into my territory.

I continued down until I was fifty miles from the base of the mountain, then heard the snap of a twig behind and to the left of me. My eyes narrowed.

Instantly, my sword was in hand and I had turned to slice a Beowolf right in the chest with Shadowsteel, the silver blade easily cutting through the fur. With a yelp, it fell to the ground, but I then noticed the pack of Grimm approaching.

I cursed as they began to spread out, ready to surround me as a Beowolf sounded the charge. My holographic eyepiece flickered to life over my eye, its projector connected to the device that double as an earpiece. I drew my rapier, then met an approaching Ursa. It swung its paw my way, and I ducked under the massive arm, then, slid my rapier into the creature's neck.

I turned to deliver a deadly slash to a Beowolf, his head thudding onto the ground as he started to dissipate, then rolled to avoid the charge of a Boarbatusk. I completed the roll, pushing myself onto my feet and plunging both blades into the neck and chest of another Beowolf. I cursed as a Boarbatusk crashed into me, sending me tumbling into the snow, but I rolled to my feet, spinning to strike the Grimm in the neck.

A small swarm of Beowolves stood ahead of me, and I charged, spinning and delivering strikes with ease. I twisted like a small tornado of blades, and the Beowolves lay at my feet when I reached the other side.

Drawing my throwing knife, I sent it whirling into the eye of an Ursa, then, using my Semblance and some intense concentration, pulled it back, across the air and past my into the throat of a Beowolf, then made it float back into my hand.

The roar of something, not a Grimm, reached my ears and I turned to see a giant of a man in a hooded grey trench coat that covered most of his face charge into battle, a wicked looking grenade launcher with and curved blade on the bottom in hand. He leaped into the sky, then landed on a Grimm, slicing him in half from head to toe.

I grinned as this being continued blasting the Grimm apart, but I knew that more would come. The noise from the Grimm and our weapons would draw more to us. I also knew that the only way we'd probably survive this was to end the fight and get out of dodge, perhaps to one of my outposts father up the mountain.

I drew my Spring Bow from my back, the slender device sliding into my hand off of its magnet, and I pressed the switch, releasing the latches holding it in place. The springs worked the malleable metal into the bow form, and I began to send the arrows off my back into the Grimm. The shafts were made of a lightweight black metal, and the shafts were made of an alloy, a couple components of silver and steel.

Then came the Death Stalker I tore through the trees, and I let a stream of curses pass my lips. I charged, then slid under the Grimm, slightly to the left so that when I grabbed the leg I spun all my weight into the swing and landed on its head. It tried to strike me as I drew my Deagle, but I stepped easily to the sides as I began to fire the .50 caliber round into a thin piece of armor on its head. I fired until it fell to the ground, then stepped off, emptying the rest of the magazine into the Grimm around me, then reloading and sliding it back into the holster at my side.

When a Beringel, which were extremely rare, especially up her in the mountains, tore through the trees, I grunted as I rolled to the side to avoid a crashing blow, then drew my Deagle and Punisher, switching the rifle to semi-auto mode and loading the half-used clip.

I then launched into a spinning jump, trench coat flapping in the wind as I began firing into the giant gorilla's neck, the best exposed part of skin, with all I had, then landed on the other side of it, turning and reloading my Deagle after dropping the Punisher drum and sliding it onto my back.

I had landed dead in front of the brute, and I gave a simple nod, welcoming him to the party, then looked to see the Beringel fall to the ground with a groan. I blew the top of my Deagle's barrel, then slid it into my holster.

We turned back-to-back. I pulled my Punisher from my back and opening fire, operating the bolt at a fast pace with a new drum in the bay. I noticed the increase in Grimm, and I also could hear the brute behind me blasting his foes to kingdom come.

I switched from the now empty Hunter Clip, which only held eight bullets, and reached behind to the bag behind my Deagle holster, grabbing one of the three 250-round drums and slapping it into the bay, then switched my bolt-action to a semi-auto setting.

The Grimm soon had to climb over the bodies of others as they began to pile of bodies, which were not dissipating fast enough. Finally, there seemed to be a lull in the fight, and I quickly returned the near-empty drum to the bag, then slid the Punisher into place on my back before turning to see the brute already looking at me, regarding me and determining my worth.

"You fight well." He stated, voice deep and gravelly, and I nodded then pointed at him before offering a fist. He awkwardly bumped it.

"Do you have shelter?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Do you?" He questioned.

With a nod, I decided to take the risk. "Follow me."

He turned and went to retrieve a duffel bag that he seemed to have dropped before joining the fight, then returned to where he had been, giving me a nod to show he was ready.

And with that, I turned and began to walk to the miner's cabin, looking out once again over the trees, waiting for any more Beowolves. I once again drew my bow, in case I entered a situation where I needed a silent kill, and the tail of my trench coat flapped in the wind, and I once again thanked Oum for giving someone the idea for thermal cloth and heating wires, keeping my body at a comfortable temperature. They had died down during the fight to allow the cool air to keep me from overheating.

We ascended up the mountain. It was always imposing, even when living on it. It stood eight thousand miles above sea level, but the air was clear due to the abundance of trees.

"Are they any others?" The brute seemed to growl, his voice very deep and gravelly.

"I am the only human being alive that lives on this mountain." I answered.

"Only living? There are dead?"

I looked back. "Many try to take this mountain, but I have repelled all of those who wish to rule it."

"What of those who seek help?"

I moved my head forward. "I help, then send them on their way."

"It must be very lonely." He growled.

With a sigh, I slid the arrow back into my quiver and slung the bow onto my chest, rubbing my hands together. "I know the monstrosities of the human race. Grimm, they're predictable, especially up here, and they can easily be avoided, if you can control your emotions. People, they are less so. Unpredictable, and the want to cause that emotion to better themselves, so blind to their own greed and self-esteem that they don't realize the sin they do in bring others down."

"Words of a philosopher." He said.

I shrugged and moved my bow back into position. "I have lots of time to think up here."

"I bet your desk is very organized." He joked.

I chuckled, and then we lapsed into silence until I asked, "Are you military? That armor seems like something Atlas would make."

"I was military, at one point, Spec Ops, but the organization was corrupt, and it turned me into a monster."

I nodded. "Most private military organizations will do that."

Behind me, the brute grunted in agreement, and we continued up the mountain for miles, avoiding the Grimm we saw through the trees, undetected until we had travelled twenty miles up the mountain to the miners' cabin.

"This is your home?" he asked.

I shrugged. "From time to time. I drift." I told him, then looked to the clouds darkening above us and the wind starting to push against me. "Let's get inside, storm's starting to pick up."

I stepped inside, the ancient door creaking open, then stepped to the fireplace, which I hadn't used for months.

"I think this was home to a mining team." I told him, ""There's a mine not far from here, still filled with Dust. I refine it and use it for my weapons and gear."

After pulling down my mask and hood, I bent and whispered a few words, concentrating until a flame licked along my gloved hand, growing into a small ball. With a soft blow, I sent it to cover the wood, which soon caught flame and spread to the dry logs.

Heat radiated from the fire as I took a step back, then turned and took off my coat, hanging it on a peg and setting my triple case on top of the square table that sat under a boarded window.

The man studied me intently. "You're very young."

I rolled my eyes. "Almost sixteen. And if you think I can't handle myself because I'm too young, just remember what I did, before and during your intervention."

He held up his hands in surrender, and I stepped into the kitchen corner, where a gas stove sat with cupboards of utensils and non-perishables sat. I took a skillet once more, then called the steak from my gauntlet.

I know what you're thinking: Wait, he pulled T-bones out of his arm? The gauntlet on my left arm has many uses.

The stranger also seemed surprised. "How did you do that? I thought your Semblance was Telekinesis.

"My Semblance has nothing to do with it, and telekinesis is one of my Semblances."

"Semblances?" He asked, putting an emphasis on the 's'.

"Yeah, Telekinesis, Telepathy, and Pyromancy."

"Okay, what's Pyromancy?"

"Control over the fire domain. I can sometimes create flames, but manipulating those that exist is easy. Plus, I can control really small objects, like my throwing knife, with ease, but a boulder would be a lot harder at my current level. With Telepathy, I can connect minds like a radio, sometimes search minds for information."

"That seems a little overpowered, especially in a battle. Can't you also persuade people with Telepathy or whatever?"

"I haven't really been able to do that. Plus, I really need to concentrate on telepathy if I'm not touching the person I'm reading, so I can only communicate with others in a fight. Telekinesis, I can only control small objects really, unless I get really angry or something. Plus, with all of the Semblances, it really stretches out my Aura, so that, if need be, I can easily use some in an area in an instant, so it leaves my body exposed, unless I concentrate on protection in a certain area."

The man nodded as I slapped the two steak onto the skillet. "That doesn't explain how you pulled steaks from thin air."

I gestured to the holo-gauntlet. "It's all thanks to this pretty. I invented her myself. It's call the holo-gauntlet, and it's got multiple uses. It can create hard-holograms made from hard light particles to create a few tools, a knife, a quarterstaff, and a shield.

"I also created a small compartment that contains a pocket dimension about the size of a large house, where my veritable arsenal and storehouse just floats around."

"How did you create a pocket dimension?"

"I once broke into a laboratory that had it labelled and immediately stole the device. It's in the dimension as we speak."

"Inception, much?" He muttered under his breath. "Alright, so how do you put something in the pocket dimension?"

I now pointed to the indention underneath the bottom of my wrist. "I installed a liquidizing unit inside the gauntlet and connected it to the pocket dimension, I call it the Void for short, so that I can point at something, type in a command, and it liquidizes it. I can also have signals to activate both my hard-light tools and bring out certain things from the Void by hand signals, custom and unlikely to accidently be triggered."

"Once, again, that would seem to make your invincible."

I laughed. "It would, if it didn't take so much battery. I have to use it wisely, or else I run dry of power, but it's solar powered, along with a chargeable back-up battery, but I'm usually wearing either a cloak or my trench coat, and if I'm wearing the coat, or it's nighttime, I really need to be careful when using it."

"So, if you have a veritable arsenal, why do you carry so many weapons?" He asked.

"It takes too long for some of them to form, depending on its size, material, or complexity." I answered, "So I keep a basic arsenal on me.

He chuckled, "I noticed. So your greatest weapons are too spread out for you to use and to form? Sounds like you need an AI." The man said.

"There's a small one inside the gauntlet, I call her the Intelligence and Logistics Assistant, ILA, for short. She's connected to most of my tech, helps me run it so it's all hands free, but it only buys me a small percent more battery."

The man hummed thoughtfully. "I think we should probably introduce ourselves." He said, then extended his hand. "You can call me Maine."

"And you can call me Colt, Colt Silver."

And then I turned to cook our dinner, taking spices and applying them as needed. I stepped back, then unbuckled my Y-belt and held it out to the brute I now knew as Maine. "Can you put this next to the triple case?" I asked, and he took the belt and set it down, then looked me over while I cooked, sizing me up, speculating, that sort of thing, I guess. I finished cooking the steaks, the smells wafting through the cabin and making my stomach growl. I pulled my special stock of red liquid from the Void, then set the steaks and glasses filled with ice-cubes on the table, replacing my Y-belt and Triple case against the wall next to my chair, then came and served the drinks.

"Aren't you a bit young for alcohol?" Maine questioned, pointing at the jug of red liquid.

I chuckled. "It's not wine. Try it."

I waited until he took a drink, his eyes widening at the sudden flavor. "Cherry cider." I told him.

"It's quite delicious."

"It's very rare to get it in that perfect of a flavor, even more so when you live in isolation on the mountains, so I use it sparingly." I informed him, then ate a piece of steak before asking, "So, care to tell me why you've come out to the Shadowed Heights?"

"I'm out here so I don't hurt anyone." He answered, and I nodded knowingly.

"Ah, you killed someone, and now you think you're a monster." I assumed, taking a swig of the cider.

"Killed a really annoying woman, her brother used to be a friend." He told me.

I sighed. "Yeah, I'd imagine. What did she do?"

"I was angry, wounded, acting like an animal, and she insulted me, called me a monster, which I was. I shot her, then ran."

"Well, you should never insult a man when he's in berserker mode." I stated knowingly. "Or a woman during her time of month."

Maine chuckled, then grew serious. "You seem very calm in the presence of a murderer." He said.

"You plan on killing me?" I asked.

"No." He said quickly.

I took another swig of cider. "Planning on killing anyone else?"

He sighed. "I never plan on it nowadays, it's by accident."

"Then we're fine. You made a mistake, and now you regret it." He said. "Besides, anyone out here in the Wilds is out here for a reason. Half of them are outcasts sent here, either by the law or themselves because of their crimes." I assured him.

"Then why are you here?" He asked.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat. "I was born in the Wilds, small town. It was attacked by Grimm, utterly destroyed, and I didn't want to go back to civilization. Not to mention, I don't know which way to head, so I just drifted around, trying to survive and exploring these Wilds along the way." I told him. "I been all around this mountain, down in the deserts, and in the Forgotten Forest to the Southeast. Been mapping some of , plus I do some odd bounty work now and again."

He nodded, and we continued to eat in silence. "Can I travel with you?" He asked.

"No offense, but you seem like the loner type." I grinned. "Why?"

"Seems like it's lonely out here. If we're going to be surviving here in the Wilds, might as well do it together, strength in numbers and all that." He said, looking down and eating another piece of meat.

I was silent for a moment, slowly eating my steak as I thought. Did I truly trust this man? I know, he saved my life, but something seemed to speak to me, and it wasn't my telepathy. I decided.

"You've got it right that it's really quiet, could use a partner." I looked up. "We'll stay here a couple days, collect some food, then we head for the monastery. It's further up the mountain, we can hole up there for the winter, its abandoned, but power's still running and its filled with supplies."

"What happened there?"

"It was too cold and Grimm kept swarming it after one monk apparently died mysteriously, put all the rest in a bad mood." I said, then sighed sadly, "Of course, the Grimm followed it like a beacon. Survivors ran to the kingdoms, and it's been untouched except for me."

He nodded, taking a final bite of steak. "I assume we'll be collecting food for the journey over the next couple days?"

I nodded. "Indeed."

"Then it sounds like a plan, partner."

0ooooooooooooooo0

Later that night

I lay silently up at the top of one of the bunk beds in the room adjacent to the living room and kitchen, suspecting that Maine had gone to sleep. I ever-so-softly whispered. "ILA, playback sequence three."

I raised my left arm to rest on my chest as the holographic screen appeared, showing a view of porcelain. "Colt, no! Give that to me before you drop it down the toilet." I heard my mother's sweet voice say to me. "No, don't put it in your mouth, that's a Scroll! Oh, geez, Colt, no!"

"Play next file, ILA." I said, and then came the next video, taken, I assumed, by my father. My mother held a tiny version of me in her arms, gently humming a lullaby, a beautifully calming tune that sent me back into memories long left behind, and lulled me into the arms of sleep.