Okay, so, an attempt at a crossover with one of my favorite games and a series I sorta started watching. After a read of Distant Seeds, an inspiration came and I sought to put it from mind to words. While I'm by no means the greatest writer, I can say that I have some grasp in the English language... I think. Regardless, the plot bunny has kicked my head more times than once in at least attempting to do such a fic. So, in order to sate my desire, and the riddance of a bunny, I give you this ball of a mess.
If by any chance you've read the aforementioned story above and find similarities, well, I credit to the author of said story.
And before I forget: I do not own Warframe or RWBY. They belong to their respective owners. No lawsuits please.
The Tenno were scattered, lost in the ruins of the Old War, waiting for the call. Beyond the all seeing Lotus, they slept. Masters of Gun and Blade, these void touched soldiers of the Orokin were the most potent in combat, thriving in the battlefield, over a sea of bodies. Yet in their sleep, they lost knowledge—memories. No sense of direction, lost, once awakened until the motherly voice of the Lotus guides them.
Despite the handicap, they adapt and overcome, even beyond the guidance of their Lotus. The Tenno were the manifestation of death and destruction, an instinct ingrained since their conception.
Growls of malevolence fill the air in the silent forest, beasts in the midst of a hunt under the cloudy night. The wolves howl, their senses tingling by the scent of prey. Unforgettable to even their alpha's nose, a tinge of fear with confusion in the mix. The aroma intensifies with each step, leading to the desolate clearing.
A golden coffin lies open amidst a sea of black corpses yet to have become blood red petals. Others like them, slaughtered in groves. Their limbs viciously torn, black flesh hanging where the arm is supposed to be situated. White skulls shattered with unknown force. They continue closer to the scent, passively staring at the increase in mutilation. Bodies hang in jagged ice, puncture marks bathe each Beowulf. Their bodies did not disappear and the light in their eyes did not fade. These cling to life, subjects to torture and pain. Their howls are meek like pups, a product of an impaled throat.
The monsters advance closer, a vague humanoid in their sights. Nothing they had ever seen, even from the alpha. A shape vaguely human. Broad shoulders and imposing height, the signs of a male. Icy blue swirls compliment the snowy white exterior, extending down to the ground. It flows like cloth and gently sways against the breeze. It moves, exposing the jagged points on its knees, deadly and intimidating. Atop its head is a single horn, alone and sharp. The head turns, a mask of silence greets the pack. Their senses scream, an apprehension that rises from instinct.
It radiates power and did not wish to be disturbed.
Panic leads to chaos and their minds quickly comprehend to stop the threat. Four pairs of claws rush the being, hungry for blood. It waves both hands outward, showing its full body. An easy kill.
Their mind and bodies freeze in an instant, winds lash quickly, and repel them back with a force strong enough to shatter the wolves once they touched the snow covered ground. It crouches, punching the ground. A wave of spears surge from beneath, fanning outwards to catch the fleeing few and collects an addition to the impaled forest. Silence returns, but the being had left.
Icy winds swirl, their lash and crack continuous and powerful. A brilliant dance of snow and ice, an ever changing shape routine that rarely settles. The frozen raiment that drapes the land in chilling grace.
It changes mid flight, the flow cracks and turns jagged. He watches in curiosity, a flick of his wrist was enough to return it to its routine. A reflex, an instinctive twitch. He knew it well. His being, the skin he wears. It was natural, just like the familiar feeling of the trigger of a gun and hilt of a blade. They come to his mind with ease, the body following the thought without hesitation.
Yet, he knows little of what's around him. A foreign and strange world. He felt no presence of his own. Alone. Stranded. With no purpose, no memory of his past. It gnaws on his mind, but apprehension did little to remedy the situation. Information was, is needed. No longer must he wander the unknown. An objective is set and the means to complete it is near.
The crunch of snow is unmistakeable. Footsteps. Heavy, undisciplined. The wind howls, masking their position, but did little in preventing his assault. His senses gather and the sounds betray them among the ice. The being moves, a blur in the blizzard, and crosses the distance. Powerful sensors mark their weapons and bodies in fiery orange. Information floods his mind, yet hinders little of his capability. They are filed, sorted, and compiled for further reference. Segments are taken and taken into account.
Non-humans.
Armed.
Combat measures calculated.
Priority target has been selected.
Execute.
Their ears heard the sound of an approaching person. Perked and alert, they trained their weapons to the direction of the sound. Their orders were to kill anyone trespassing in their territory, especially if they were one of the pesky huntsmen. Barrels gleamed in anticipation of a kill, yet found no evidence despite the sound moving closer and closer. Night vision could only do so much amidst a blizzard and they were practically freezing with their thin armor.
The silhouette appeared, a weapon in hand. Tall and bulky, it was made an easy target for the agents. Their rifles barked in a constant staccato, spitting out bullets one after another in an attempt to down their pursuer. What they shot didn't die, despite the hail of bullets that was unloaded, it remained unharmed and moved faster than ever. The audible sounds of metal rang as the weapon in hand spun, deflecting the barrage effortlessly.
It crossed the gap, right between the squad of five. Their reaction times were top notch, having born a Faunus, yet could not fathom the speed it showed. The golden scythe flashed in the blizzard, white blades that seemingly cut the wind itself quickly sliced through skin and bone. Three were cut down in a single swing, brutal and unrefined, their top halves viciously separated from the bottom and kicked away. The weapon was flung to a panicked soldier, a clean cut of the head. It continued its flight, the curved blade embedding itself to a tree, inches away from the neck of one surviving Faunus. An execution of the highest degree in the most efficient and timely manner.
Layla was scared, no, she was absolutely terrified of her situation. The efficient execution of her teammates had sent her in a fit of panic in their visceral demise. She had never been good with blood and one month after her institution into the White Fang did little to remedy that.
She of course was born with the ears of a rabbit, and had a tendency to run at the first sign of danger. Be it a trait shared with her animalistic side or her own upbringing, she was ill suited to be a soldier just from personality alone. Despite her protests to being an informant, she had been assigned to the now deceased squad due to her higher than average hearing in order to spot trespassers for her squad to take down, keeping her in the backlines. A decision she could not fathom despite her explicit lack of combat skill. She had always been a thinker, not a fighter.
Now she could only stare in panic at the sharp blade the hovered dangerously close to her neck. The scythe was surprisingly clean even after gutting her teammates, a shine in its white blades and golden shaft. It did little to remedy her panic, but the mind tends to think of other, less important things at the most crucial moments.
Their assailant walked over to her and stared with its eyeless helm. It eclipsed her in size and height, cementing her position as the weaker of the two, however did little other than stare at her. The actions unnerved the Faunus, being studied like that, but could do little but sit there and wait for judgement.
Heat signature is within normal limits of human standards. Scans show similar anatomy of a human female with the exception of two sets of ears. Large ears akin to hares of Earth. Pale skin is also an indication. Hair is a strange white as well. Subject has no discernible illness. Possible mutation of humans. A drastic change. Evolutionary reason may be the cause of earlier hostiles. Perhaps a species adapted to the winter climates for camouflage?
"A-are you going to kill me too?" The answer was fairly obvious, but nevertheless asked to give her some peace of mind that she wouldn't be tortured by the huntsmen. From just the sayings around the organizations, she had believed them to be ruthless and unforgiving with their victims, be it Grimm or otherwise.
The being shifted, a slight tilt to its head as if considering the question. A brief shake of its head was the reply.
"T-then, why? Why did you kill them too?!" She choked back the tears that came up. While she barely knew them, they were still fellow Faunus that was fighting for the same cause.
"Information." It spoke, the voice deep and chilling. "The others were armed and considered dangerous. You were prioritized by lack of weaponry, suggesting little to no training." The being replied matter-of-factly. "I require information and you shall give it to me. Do so and you may leave to do what you wish."
She shrunk back. Interrogation was her worst nightmare. Layla had a weak will with everything regarding questioning. She had especially been trying to hold back bile and tears during the whole entire exchange. Stronger personalities had always dominated her weak self, and it happened again. She kept silent and nodded in agreement.
"I have awakened to a different place." It began. "The surroundings do not match what I have expected after my slumber, especially the species that inhabit this place. This world is not my own and I seek to find out how I've come here."
The faceless helm made it hard to discern any emotion from her perspective. The stance was completely void of any sign of fatigue, confusion, or panic, but the rigid posture through training. Layla could only guess what it meant. A different world? An alien? If it weren't for the precarious situation hanging in her cooperation with this being, she'd immediately flip out on the prospect of having first contact with an alien.
"Now," the posture gave a minute relaxation, "tell me about your world."
The Faunus blanched at the broad topic. Where to start was her main issue. There was so much to say, but she could only mumble incoherently.
The Tenno stared in silence, the head dipping a slight angle to face the girl. She in turn looked further down, the intimidation it exuded forcing her to. Seconds seemed like hours before the howls of beasts reached the Faunus' ears. She bristled and turned to its direction.
"Grimm." She whispered, turning back to the being. "W-we need to leave now! I can hear them coming."
It gave no indication of hearing her warning, moving to the direction of the approaching pack. Liquid void retracted from its back, revealing a weapon of sleek design. Two long barrels faced parallel, their maws a threatening reminder of their payload. At its end, a forward facing blade, sharpened to a monomolecular edge.
Jet black pelts emerged from the mist, red malevolence staring at the prey they had surrounded. A simple matter of tracking the emotions of a distraught Faunus and cornering it. A classic strategy for pack hunters, yet these young wolves have yet to understand their place in the pecking order of nature. A fatal mistake by newborns.
The Tenno had been more than willing to exert its dominance to the young and misguided.
These beasts are strange. A mutation to the canine family perhaps? The lycanthropic traits are apparent, maybe human gene mutation as well. Exposure of bones suggest an extra layer of protection to the brain and spikes for back and forearms. Claws are and mouth are the main weapons. Mythos on Lycans have suggested that silver is a weakness. However, previous experiences dictate that ice is just as viable for execution. Perhaps they have resistance against certain metals?
He sprints towards the pack, initiating the attack. The frame glows an electric blue, surging his systems and flips onto the leader's head. Graceful despite the bulk, he reminds that he is by no means light. A push with a single foot sends him airborne while the bony platform is crushed from the surge of energy. Void touched Grimm and burned the monster away in an orange ash.
The weapon is raised, twin maws open for retribution. The first barrel explodes with a deafening roar, a sign of death from above. Bladed pellets rain down on the targeted beowolf. Sheer force and quantity shred apart the torso, bisecting the beast in an instant. The Tenno lands down onto the snow with a roll, meeting a lunging wolf's mouth. The shotgun greets it with its own fury and brutality as its barks another shot. It shreds through the bone and slices the skull in half.
The pellets of the Tigris have little to no silver in their composition. Silver is proven not needed. Simple dismemberment and blunt force are their weakness. A particularly easy prey to dispatch. Akin to the infestation, their composition seems to be of flesh, but without further experimentation, weapons adapted for certain compositions are uncertain. I will require more scans of these beasts to understand how to best deal with them.
Two remain and no shots. They move at the opportunity. A foolish endeavor with the deaths of their pack. They lunge in unison, a tactic to overwhelm. The frame moves with grace across the snow, sliding under the pair and grabs a foot of the left, slamming it. The cold touch of frost emerge from the hand, quickly running through the captured wolf. It is frozen within second— a perfect flash freeze.
The second ignores its frozen kin and charges at the sitting faunus. A much easier prey and the scent of fear permeates from her like the stench of death. Black jaws open to bite down on her porcelain skin, salivating with anticipation. Such celebration is cut off. A crunch and crack is all it hears before the light in its eyes vanish. Large pointed crystals jut from the beast's torso and head, impaling it. Limbs bend impossibly with the placement of the spears, rotating joints into angles beyond their capability.
The rabbit Faunus squeaks in surprise from the sight of the mutilated Grimm, the contents of her stomach liberating from their prison in order to ease the young girl. It does little but give her the unfamiliar burning feeling of vomiting as her revulsion in violence peaks. Truly, Layla is unfit for an organization such as the White Fang.
Wiping her mouth the sleeve of her shirt, she stares back to the being that single handedly wipe out five Beowolves in a span of thirty seconds. She really did not want to piss it off anymore.
'I wanna go home...' Her whimpers are unheard, leaving her scared if she did not provide the being with what it needs. All in the name of preserving her life, she steels herself the best she can, which included shaky knees and an incoherent mumbling under her breath, before facing the killer.
"I'll tell you what I know." She said, her voice shaky and scared. "B-but its going to take a while to e- explain everyt-thing. A-and I only know what everyone else knows, so I hope you don't mind that..."
It was silent, before a curt nod allowed her to speak.
And so, she began her explanation of Remnant, its people, and the Grimm. Intricate stories laced with tragedy of their pushed back world against monsters that seemed endless in numbers, their few bastions being watched by these creatures at a chance of weakness. Tales of valor that highlighted their accomplishments and courage against the darkness they had feared. Their highest form being the creation and utilization of Dust. The very substance that pushed back the Grimm and the salvation they needed to continue their society. Of course, she barely knew the specifics of such complicated weapons, having worked little, if any, at all.
From there, the factions that made up the society were made clear to the Tenno. The White Fang, a terrorist group hellbent on gaining dominance over humanity after years of discrimination. The means of such a goal included subterfuge, assassinations, and the occasional bombings. Espionage by insertions into important positions of power and the works. Through their networks, they were able to spread across the continent with ease. Blackmail on local officials made it easy to hide behind the scene, and from there, they had eyes and ears everywhere. The fact she also mentioned that she was a member did little to alleviate the promise of death by the being, but she continued. The Schnee Company had come up a multitude of times, clarify on her own volition that they were the main fault of unfair treatment of Faunus in their company, resulting in becoming the organization's larger targets.
The Huntsmen and Huntresses were their main defense force against the Grimm, being deployed to combat rising numbers, overrun settlements, or protection. Their forces were extremely flexible with their skillsets, having been a boon against the terrorism of the White Fang. With such a wide variety of them, their origins were mainly on the combat schools stationed across the continent of Vale.
"And that's about it." She concluded, sitting down on her knees and waiting on the being's response. And maybe her execution. She had basically told it about her affiliation, and there was little doubt in her mind that it would end up with her being branded a traitor and executed if she returned with a squad dead and an incarnation of ice and death virtually carving a new one to the base she had been stationed in. If not, she'd just be executed here and now after outliving her usefulness.
In contrast of her expectations, it did not point its weapon at her head, holstering it on its back before walking back to the frozen Beowolf. A small object on its hand, it held it up to the wolf. There was a quick whir before a shrill click was voiced from the device. It turned around to face her, tilting its head.
"You are free to leave." It said simply, an airy tone in its voice. "The information was adequate and you have given me what I require."
"T-then-"
Movement.
Multiple entities.
Energy reserves low.
Tactical retreat is necessary to reevaluate information. Grimm is found to have no resources to salvage at this moment. Resources and time will be wasted in battle.
The Tenno stood up and began walking into the misty forest, frosty winds converging around its frame. Snow filled his prints, erasing their existence. The Faunus seemed to have found out as well, the quick succession of footsteps behind him soon reached his side.
A turn of his head found a shivering rabbit Faunus holding herself as she struggled to keep herself warm.
"I-I think I'll stick with you for a bit, at- at least until we get to somewhere safe. You said I can do as I please, so I am..." She trailed off, realization appearing on her shivering face. She just said something stupid in front of the being that could kill Beowolves with a touch. "I-I'm sorry ab-"
"Self preservation is a natural instinct of weaker creatures. It dictates the best course of action in order to survive. A survival instinct you cannot avoid." The Tenno began. "While I care little of you and your well being, it is a commendable and logical choice to stay close to a stronger being until safety is assured. However, do not think of this as a permanent. I can and will kill you if you prove too inconvenient."
Somewhere deep in Layla's psyche, it had translated its words as 'prove your worth and I will protect you'. The Faunus had snapped from the stress and had mentally clung onto her captor, savior, and now companion. The White Fang had already disappeared from her head and the Grimm a distant memory. She just had to make sure that she didn't hinder the creature. The trauma had proven that she can be useful one way or another.
"I'll do my best." She whispered back.
And so, the pair moved. One Tenno, one Faunus. No prints remained of their existence in the frozen forest, only the howls of the wind.
So yeah. I have this weird little itch that makes me want to write non actions as past tense and action as present. I don't know why, but I do hope it wasn't too bad. Tell me what you think. Do you hate it, love it, would like to see improvements? If so, how? I gladly accept any and all forms of criticism. The flames especially, it keeps me warm in these upcoming winter months.
