I walk a lonely rode
Though I wish I was truly alone
I want nothing more out of life
Than peace from memories of home
What should I do?
Now that I'm uncertain, afraid?
He's always been there for me
But I never wanted him to be
I ҉WANT ͠T͡O ͠BE͞ ̵F̕R͟EE
Chapter 33: Exclusion Is The Greatest Catalyst
Sighing, Nequam stood from his perch on the roof. The two were at it again, the dreaded and buff Gabbro arguing with the petite yet equally terrifying Riviera. According to Gabbro, they had been dating ever since they left Haven Academy. Tumultuous as it might seem from the outside, the two were simply speaking on a similar level. It was probably something to do with their size difference, or the like. At least, that was Nequam's thought. They weren't represented by their sizes, but more by their voices. The quieter someone got, it was either an indication for submission, or simply wanting to back off and calm down. Therefore, the two were on equal terms; their voices represented their size, no their physical forms.
Nequam shrugged off his idle wonderings. He had practice to attend to. Triton was an okay guy, but he kept to himself. Nequam knew the boy was just naturally quiet and introverted, rather than upset or untrusting. That made things easier between them. They understood each other.
Regardless of their views, they needed the practice. Nequam was astounded by the variety of fighting styles and practices represented amongst Beacon's inhabitants, so it was time to for him to get to some educatin'.
They met in the dueling arena, the two standing still. Triton was holding his, well, triton, quietly keeping to the side. Nequam quickly glanced about the room; they were alone.
They met in the middle of the ring, each glancing at each other's weapons. The silence still stood like a wall of ice before them, waiting to be broken before proper words can be spoken and understood.
"I know you've seen my swordsplay when I dueled," Nequam started, taking the hesitant initiative, "but really I know three different styles."
"I guess that's what happens when you grow up in a noble family," Triton responded, and Nequam nodded, masking the pain from within that unintentional jab had created. "Right, and I know a little of spear fighting, for simple defense purposes."
"This isn't a spear."
"Well, yes, but I imagine that it can be used like o-"
Flicking the triton up by the hilt, Triton flicked the weapon over his shoulder and crouched, allowing it to fully rotate around his and smack Nequam directly in the temple. He finished the spin with a resolute flick, the triton settling down into its former resting position.
"It's not a spear," Triton repeated, a little flick of dry humor entering his voice.
Nequam stood, shrugging to control his anger. Triton was a little hard to get along with, simply put, and was given some slack. The only son of the family, Triton had trouble developing bonds between people, once again, something Nequam knew well. It was often a relationship of confusion and bickering, but Nequam was trying his best.
"Right," Nequam said, his words slurred from the strike on the head. "Basically what I'm suggesting is that it could be used as one, even though you've clearly developed a unique fighting style."
Triton nodded, the humor gone from his eyes. In its place, concern. He had heard Nequam's slurred voice, and he was wondering if he accidentally caused a concussion.
"So basically, what I wanted to do was to try and fi-"
The door to the practice room opened, and two older students walked in.
After her report to Ozpin on how she captured Scylax, Weiss was tasked with specifically training her glyphs for capture-like freezes. She knew why. Ozpin was clearly worried about Scylax's mental state, and wanted someone that could quickly and efficiently capture him should he get any… unsavory ideas.
She couldn't agree more. Those eyes of his gave her nightmares. She knew that Ruby shared her view.
So here she was, walking into the practice room with Yang, when she saw a Neptune-lookalike and an unfamiliar noble standing in the middle of the ring.
Well, Neptune-lookalike was stretching it. The boy had Neptune's short, flowing hair, but it was groomed to the side rather that straight down, as well as a darker shade of blue. The boy did not wear a suit, preferring a black and blue jumpsuit, surprisingly similar to an orange prison uniform, as well as a navy blue overcoat. He carried a triton, a shorter counterpart to a trident, which Neptune used. The similarities were baffling, even if slightly dissimilar.
The other boy was the main source of attention, though.
"I didn't know a noble had enrolled this year," Weiss called to the boy, he seemed to tense at the word 'noble'.
"There's one other than me, too," he called back hesitantly. He clearly recognized the Schnee heiress, even though he had never seen her in person.
The four walked closer, Yang taking note of the lookalike with suspicion.
"What family are you from?" Weiss asked.
"Ostrum."
"I'm from the Schnee family."
"We know. There's probably not a person in this school that doesn't know," the lookalike butted in.
"And what exactly does that mean?" Weiss asked, her tone defensive.
"Well, your exploits and team's reputation precede you, Ms. Schnee," he replied coolly. "And not to mention your father's reputation."
"My father's reputation?" Weiss once again asked, her eyebrows raised.
"His excellent managing of Schnee Dust, of course."
"Okay then. I'll let that slide. Your name?" Weiss asked, turning to Nequam, who, up until that point, was trying to find a way to excuse himself.
"N-Nequam Ostrum."
"And who is the other noble?"
"Aaryan Morea, at your service," Aaryan said, making his previously concealed presence at the entrance of the room known.
Weiss turned around the find a purple suit glaring back at her. Its occupant, a medium-heighted, tan, and artificially jovial character glared back at her, his blondish-brownish hair groomed down his face perfectly, hanging over his eyebrows. He stepped forward and gave a theatrical bow, purple overcoat fluttering around him. He stood, and his similarly deep, purple eyes gazed into hers with a gleam of mischievous humor.
Nequam sighed. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough," was the answer. The boy readjusted his similarly purple and black-striped tie and made a motion to the door.
"Shall I treat you two to a little drink?"
"Two?" Yang said questioningly.
"Yes. Nequam and Weiss. I do wish to speak with them." His tone offered no argument.
Chapter 34: I Can See Clearly Now
"So, uh, hi," Scylax offered.
"What's wrong?" Weslyn asked. Scylax was holding a hand over his right eye, and wasn't making a move to change that.
"Nothing."
Even though something was clearly off, Weslyn walked into the room and sat down at her bed, pulling her Grimm Anatomy book out from under her bed, where most of her school supplies were stored. Scylax walked back into bathroom, never removing his hand from his face.
Weslyn sat on her bed for a good five minutes until she could no longer stand trying to memorize the various inner workings of a King Taijitus. She looked around the room for something to procrastinate with. She settled on Scylax's bed, and the desk beside it. On it was one of his books: a rough, brown cover that obvious had seen a lot of time. On top of that was a package of disinfectant strips, used to disinfect and clean contacts. Does he wear contacts?
The door to the bathroom opened, and Scylax saw Weslyn looking over at his desk. He made his way over to the desk as Weslyn stared on. He stopped, putting his free hand on the package and the other still holding his eye. He stood still for a few seconds, like he was internally debating a course of action. Finally, he turned around.
"What is it?"
"Why do you wear contacts?"
"Could you just turn around, please?"
Weslyn continued to stubbornly stare on, much to Scylax's annoyance. Finally, he huffed in frustration, turning around again and removing his hand, moving it to his left eye and removing a translucent contact. He placed the strip on the device and sighed again. "Do you really want to know?"
"I'm your teammate, you know. I'm even your partner! At least I should be able to trust you, right? And vice versa."
"Fine. Just promise not to freak out."
Scylax turned, and Weslyn didn't know what to think.
Scylax's eyes were almost inverted; in the place of a normal iris was a vertical black pupil, surrounded by a pale yellow instead of white. Weslyn recognized the eyes of a snake.
He blinked, and a previously hidden translucent scale slid over the eyes, a secondary eyelid.
"A bit conspicuous, huh?"
"Yeah…." Weslyn managed to say.
"I also have notoriously bad eyesight, so these help as well."
Several things mentally clicked at once for Weslyn. That isn't the real reason you wear them around us. It's not even necessarily your eyes. How would you introduce yourself to new people if you thought yourself a freak? Anyone that didn't know what he was would probably be too unnerved.
Do I even know what he is?
"So, are you satisfied?"
Weslyn snapped out of her reverie, brought back by Scylax's rude words. "I suppose I am."
Scylax sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I haven't showed anyone else this before, even the doctor. These contacts can last up to eight days on one strip without becoming a health risk. I can even comfortably wear them to sleep. So consider yourself… trusted."
He brought his hand to the right side of his head and yanked, pulling off some sort of gel that was covering a large swath of his hair. "This isn't my true hair color, either." He showed her his now exposed side, and Weslyn could see ash grey hair next to his artificial brown. "Once again," he continued, "more than a bit conspicuous."
"Yeah, I can see that. Any more surprises?"
"I have a huge penis."
Weslyn blinked.
"Kidding," he huffed, his attempt at a joke misplaced. "No, no more surprises. But you must admit, this is kind of intimidating." He opened his mouth in a wide grin, extending his fangs. Coupled with the gleeful look in his bizarre eyes, he looked downright demonic. It made Weslyn's skin crawl.
"Yeah, creepy, can you please stop?"
He quickly closed his mouth, his face red with embarrassment. "Sorry. It feels good to share this with y-someone."
"You should go back to your original hair," Weslyn said, opening his book again and trying to read.
"Why?"
"It fits you."
Scylax looked ready to respond, but stopped and finally sat down on his bed, opening his faded brown cover. Not writing, but just looking. After a few minutes, he dawned his contacts once again and turned around, facing Weslyn once more. "Are these in right?"
Weslyn looked up to find his completely… normal. Well, as normal as his eyes could be. They had returned to the normal, human, pale emerald, fit with their dead look and cynical undertone. He had also reapplied the brown gel, contained within a drawer of his desk. "Yeah, they're just fine."
A few seconds later, the bell rang, and Weslyn was off her bed, pulling her book and assignment out the door and towards the classrooms, desperately recalling the unique nervous system of the Goliath as she sprinted to Professor Port's lecture hall.
And she was smiling all the way.
"So, not to try and seem awkward or anything, but once again, I'm Aaryan Morea from the Morean family."
"Yeah, I know about you. My family had close dealings with you in the past. What was it about, though?" Weiss asked.
The three were sitting in a circle, nursing drinks in one hand, acquired from a nearby vending machine. They had gone to the student lounge for the quiet; almost all classes were currently being held, and the room was deserted.
"Oh, you're going to like this one. My father is very set in the old ways. Old, old ways. He was trying to convince your family to set up a marriage. I was to be betrothed to you."
Weiss tried to stop the rising flush of embarrassment, but stopped when she saw that Aaryan's cool figure had also slipped, and he was blushing too.
"Okay, that's all good and all, but what exactly am I doing here?" Nequam asked, temporarily forgotten by the other two.
"Oh. Yes. I wanted to formerly introduce myself, and ask a little about your family. What was your father like?"
Nequam refused to meet Aaryan's eyes.
"Oh, yes! He was the killer of Ignoto, right here in Vale, right?"
Silence.
"Oh, what a pickle you're in. Does the family responsibility fall to you? Chivalrous acts, as I recall, are a constant requisite."
Weiss genuinely looked surprised. "That was your dad?" she asked incredulously, trying to process how this soft-spoken boy could be the son of the loud, ambitious, and extremely cruel serial killer known as the Killer of Ignoto.
"Yeah, that was my dad."
Talk about pressure. "Is that why you want to become a Huntsman?"
"Partially, yes. But I do need to clear my family name. It's been… tainted, so to speak. I'm here to bring honor to my family once more." Nequam seemed almost empowered by his pep talk.
"Tell that to the Council," scoffed Aaryan.
The bell rang, and Aaryan stood. "Well, I best be off. Grimm Anatomy calls, and it wants my number." He winked at Weiss and sauntered out of the student lounge, a new swagger in his step, his deep purple suit swaying around his form. The door opened with a squeak and closed with a click.
"I suppose I should be going as well," Nequam said, standing timidly and making his way to the door. He opened it.
"Nequam."
The boy turned, looking Weiss in her pale, ice blue eyes. He stared.
"If you need help with anything, just talk, okay? This isn't about some 'noble' crap or anything, just person to person. Okay?"
Nequam nodded, and closed the door behind him. It echoed resolutely of sadness.
Chapter 35: Sic Transit Gloria Mundi
"Ready?"
"Ready for what, exactly?" Her heavy accent echoed through the mostly quiet hallway.
"You know, it's up to you to motivate them. Try using your story. That should certainly whip up the crowd. Especially with the target later this month."
"These are downright advertisement tactics."
Two eyes stared back at her in an invisible grin. "And?"
She huffed as the two walked towards a door. "Fine. Let's get on with this. As long as this gets resolved."
He walked up next to her, both facing the stage set before them. His red eyes were not gleaming as they had before. "What do you exactly mean, resolved?" he asked in a surprisingly concerned voice.
She turned to him, ears twitching in frustration. His games were becoming annoying. "Simple. Justice."
He whistled, facing forward once more. "You mean revenge."
The two stood in silence, digesting each other's words.
"They really did something to you, didn't they?"
"You wouldn't have a clue."
"I will soon."
The crowd cheered, and the two speakers walked onto the stage.
They stood atop the metal mount, the lights from the mostly dark warehouse obscuring most of the view of the mass of people. The screaming frenzy seemed invigorated by her very sight and presence. She could barely even see the people in the front of the crowd.
The white masks certainly helped, though.
"Hey!"
Labib looked up in the quiet library to see a giant of a teen walking towards him, his school uniform rumpled, his face covered in a satisfied smile as his light violet eyes made contact with Labib's yellow. He strode up to the smaller, sitting boy and leaned on his chair, looking over his shoulder at the history volume currently being read. "Whatcha got there, boy?"
"A history volume, currently discussing the Siege of Vale and its participants."
"Cool, cool, nice. And what exactly are you planning on doing with that knowledge?"
"I plan to make a better grade than if I had not otherwise read this work. You are interrupting me. Please leave." Labib's voice was calm and concise, showing no weakness.
The boy backed off, a fake shocked look on his face. "Why, my friend, how could in any way possibly inhibit you? I would never wish to do something like that."
He started to step forward when he realized another boy was standing over the yellow boy's shoulder, his brown hoodie perfectly blending in with the surrounding polished wood. He had just… appeared. His hood was up, looking down at the volume the yellow boy was currently reading. The boy with the book seemed to either take no notice or have any care. Cardain was creeped out. The yellow-haired boy did not seem like the weakling he though he would be. He started forward again, cautiously.
"Stop it, Cardain. It's obvious what you're trying to do."
Cardain groaned at the sound of Jaune Arc's voice. He turned to back mouth the smaller boy but saw Pyrrha Nikos standing to his side, her green eyes just as annoyed as Jaune's. He sighed and walked off without a backward glance. Jaune watched him leave, and then walked up to the two boys, who still had yet to move.
"I would say thanks for the help, but that would be a lie," the yellow boy said, not looking up from his book.
Jaune examined the brown boy. His face was now exposed as he lowered his hood. He had fair features, average skin, and average height. A pair of brown, canine ears stuck out the tops of his head, marking him as a fauna. Everything appeared relatively normal; even his dark brown hair was just a short thing, combed forward.
His pale blue eyes told a different story.
"Well, it would be nice to be appreciated every now and then," Jaune replied, ignoring the obvious intent in the boy's words. "I'm Jaune, and this is Pyrrha. We're both a year ahead of you two."
Finally, finally, the yellow-haired boy put down his volume and looked up, his yellow eyes as piercing as they were cynical. Not a whole lot of starry-eyed naivety this year, apparently.
"I'm Labib. This here is Jaeger. Excuse the fact that he would never actually introduce himself voluntarily."
"Yeah… that was Cardain. He's a bit of an a-hole, but mostly he's just… off right now. In his own strange way," Jaune added, looking back to where Cardain had last disappeared.
"Off, you say?" Jaeger spoke for the first time, and his voice was unexpectedly silky and smooth, a complete mismatch of his eyes.
"Yeah, the memorial for Velvet Scarlatina is going to be held next week. He hates to be reminded of her."
"What happened?" Labib asked.
"She committed suicide." Jaune couldn't stop the hard look from entering his eyes as he remembered the scene over and over again. No doubt Pyrrha was the same. "The school councilor and all of her close friends says it was probably from depression caused by bullying. She didn't really have a family to turn to, and hid it from her team until it was too late."
"Wow. I…uh… I'm sorry for your loss." Labib had seen the look on their eyes and immediately knew. He wasn't very good with emotional things.
Jaeger merely nodded respectfully.
"Well, the past is behind us. Cardain realized what he was doing, and now he's just a wreck. Sometimes he falls back into his habits of annoying and generally being his old self, but mostly he's just quiet. Still a bit arrogant, though."
Jaune looked at Pyrrha, who was motioning towards the time displayed on a nearby wall. "Well, I suppose was best get going."
The two boys looked down, back at the history book on Labib's lap. Jaune just shook his head and walked off, following Pyrrha towards the exit.
New kids. Always thinking they're so experienced.
Jaune had no idea.
"Welcome back, you four."
Ozpin sat behind his desk, holding his cup of coffee, examining the four individuals of Team JNPR before him.
"And how did it go?" This was a needless question, for, as always, a written report would be submitted later today. But Ozpin had always enjoyed verbal communication.
"Well, it was fun! And we almost fought one, and it almost attacked us, and it got really really close, an-"
"Nora, control yourself," Pyrrha said, and Nora became quiet.
"The mission went well, sir," Jaune replied, straightening to attention. "We have effectively viewed and studied two herds of Goliaths, among other rarer Grimm, which will be included in Py-my submitted report."
Ozpin nodded, and turned to Lie Ren, currently standing quietly in the corner of the room. He tended to be more observant than any other the three. He got the cue.
"The herds did not seem bothered by our presence, until," and he looked glaringly at Nora, "someone decided it would be fun, against all warnings and common sense, to go and touch one completely alone."
Nora simply flashed a smile.
Ozpin sighed, putting his head in his hands. "And what happened?" he asked, not moving from the position.
"It just… looked at her. Strangely. Luckily, she had enough sense to regroup with us, but it didn't actually attack. It just seemed annoyed. The herd barely reacted," Lie said, a touch of awe entering his voice as he remembered the scene.
Ozpin looked up in surprise. "The herd didn't care?"
"It didn't appear that way, no."
"Interesting… I'll get Professor Port to review it with you when he comes back."
"…Back, sir?" Pyrrha asked hesitantly.
"Oh, right. I haven't told you yet. It's a long story."
"We have time, sir."
"I know you care much about your teacher and friend, but please, stay out of this."
Pyrrha and Jaune exchanged looks. They knew whom to ask.
But that would be later.
Chapter 36: Molares Revelata
Tycho looked up as he heard a sound. His cell, though clean and warm, was so barren that the boredom was mind numbing. He practically jumped straight up when he saw Avi enter, accompanied by three armed guards. The table was situated in the middle of the room, and they sat Avi down on a chair, opposite Tycho.
"I've given everything you guys need, right?"
"Yeah, this is your requested attention. You guys can talk for a good hour or so, but us three get off shift around that time. As you can probably tell, it's pretty late."
Tycho nodded thanks to the officer and looked at Avi. She had improved considerably in the past day and a half. She had been having reoccurring nightmares of the Weed, and had found herself unable to sleep without hearing those words, feeling that knife against her throat, seeing those insane, crazy eyes. Naturally, Tycho had tried to comfort her, but the isolation in the holding jail made it difficult, as they were naturally held separately. From what he could tell, most of the mercenaries were being held here. Those with previous criminal history were being held in a much more secure and restricting location. They were to be sent through the court system first.
"So I heard from the lawyer that we have a pretty good chance of a 'wrong place, wrong time' case," Tycho started.
"Good thing we never really got into serious business, huh?" Avi sounded tired. Very, very tired.
"Are they treating you well?"
"Yeah, about as much respect as someone suspected of a crime deserves."
"At least we aren't over there."
"True."
The two sat in silence. The guards were sitting near the doors, the two grunts sitting side by side on either side of the metal portal, the officer opting out of a chair altogether, leaning against the wall parallel to the door. The grunts were on their Scrolls; the officer was watching the conversation at a respectful distance. A good word from the Four had certainly made the guards much more lax around them.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Avi said, raising her head to make eye contact with Tycho.
Tycho could still hear, no, feel himself screaming inside that bowl of ice. "Sure."
"What's the fastest thing you've ever seen?"
Tycho hesitated for a second.
"An XM-2 Railgun, that prototype I watched being tested back in Atlas. It was fired over an open field in the dead of night. I saw the bullet as it caught fire from moving so fast through the air. Like a shooting star, but eye level."
"Think faster."
"Any faster and I wouldn't be able to see it move."
"He was like that. The Weed. Just slow enough to actually see him, but so fast you could never react. It w-" Her ears perked up again as shouting was heard through the metal doorframe. The grunts had immediately perked up; this was a military jail. Shouting in the halls could not be good, and was definitely not allowed. As far as they were concerned, this was the only other prisoner meeting going on. The rooms were adequately soundproofed as well; this was happening in the hall without a doubt. They picked up their weapons; two sub-machine guns with a lethal sixty bullet magazine. The officer also looked more alert, his hand creeping down to his sidearm.
"What is it?" Tycho found himself whispering as the two grunts crept towards the door, guns held at the ready. The officer approached the table, his hand still on his holster.
"Peak it, Reg," the left grunt whispered, and the other slowly inched the door open without a sound, his machine gun exiting before him. He jerked his head out quickly, ready to sweep the corridor for threats.
A retort, a flash, a loud boom, and the private's brains scattered over his astonished comrade.
The officer drew his automatic pistol and pointed it at the door, while the other private jumped back from the now headless body of his friend, SMG pointed at the door. Already, the sound of gunfire and automatic weapons was sweeping through the building, the unknown assailants seemingly just as heavily armed as the soldiers. An alarm had sounded, and the door's locks had kicked in, effectively sealing the room. The officer's radio was assailed with calls of contact and warnings, as well as painful and terrified screams.
"Lieutenant, what the fuck are we gonna do?" the private whispered loudly, turning to the officer by the table. The shock was finally getting to him; his eyes had started to glaze over, his body was starting to shake. His friend had died a foot from him, his brains scattered on his green uniform.
"Shhhh. Listen."
The Lieutenant seemed to collect himself and turned to the prisoners. "We've been getting threats from the White Fang about violence towards the jail for apparent faunas segregation and abusing. They aren't true, but say something enough times and it becomes fact.
"We think they might be coming after some high-profile inmates from a raid about a month ago. They might have taken over the jail, but the door will hold." His voice was calm and concise, not faltering in its confidence of strength. For a moment, Tycho shared his confidence and was ready to ask how he and Avi could help.
At least, that confidence lasted until the door was blown off its hinges, flying over and crushing the officer against the ground with a sickening crunch. The door had shoved the table to a side of the room, it back facing the door, but Avi and Tycho were well past sitting down and waiting. As silence was heard from the hall, even with the gaping whole in the wall that was supposed to be the impenetrable door, the seeping pool of blood on the ground, the private somehow still keeping his cool, leveling his SMG at the doorway and taking a defensive position against the side of the wall, as silent as could be. Tycho quickly snuck over and grabbed the sidearm of the officer. The private saw him do that and spun his gun over to him, the SMG now shaking in his hands.
Tycho froze, quickly motioned the gun away and nodded towards the door. Seconds passed when finally, the grunt made the decision to focus his attention back on the real threat. He nodded to Tycho, who inched the pistol out of the holster, grabbing three magazines contained within the same leather pouch. He checked the weapon; it was ready to go.
All he needed was someone to shoot at.
Luckily, he didn't have that long of a wait.
A few seconds later, the patter of feet was heard down the hall. Tycho assumed it to be the gunman who had killed the private, but what happened with the do-
A burst of movement, and a huge blade, shaped in the form of an arrow, burst through the concrete wall and buried itself in the private's chest. The grunt looked down, surprise on his face for a second or two, until the blade retracted with a rattling of chains, and the limp body collapsed to the ground, blood covering his green camo uniform and seeping onto the floor.
Quick as a cat, Avi dashed forward without a sound and scooped up the SMG, retaking her position behind the overturned table, next to Tycho. The slapping of boots on concrete growing steadily louder as the gunman approached the door. Tycho motioned her down, and the two ducked behind the small metal table.
Suddenly several pairs of feet were heard. Three pairs of feet entered the room.
"Why aren't they here?" a gruff voice asked.
"You idiot, it's on the entire next cell block! These are the intermediary cells, not the high security!" A blow was heard, and a grunt of pain followed, sounding like the mewling of a cat.
"What are we gonna tell the boss? If we don't get these people out, he'll have our skins!" a third, much younger and high-pitched voice sounded.
"Quiet, you! I think those Black Arrow mercenaries are in these cells. If they get a gun, who knows what they'll do?" the second voice growled.
"Wait, the Blacks are being held here?" the high-pitched voice got even higher with this new revelation. Tycho smiled to himself. I see our reputation precedes us.
He looked to Avi. She was in her zone, so to speak. Her lips were curled into a grotesque grin, her eyes feline sharp and calculating. Her previous anxiety and nervousness about the subject of mercenary work was completely gone. This is why she signed up for what she did, and she might as well enjoy it as much as she could.
A predator had found its prey.
"Radio in our position. They'll know we deviated from the time difference. Just let the escape parties know we're going to back them up on extraction." The gruff voice seemed to be back in control, the previous anger gone. The radio squawked, and the orders were relayed.
"It's time to get out. I feel like we're being watched," the gruff voice commanded, and the footsteps began again.
Avi's tail flicked, and both of the mercenaries jumped from their cover to see the three terrorists clustered around the door, a perfect bottleneck position. They did not turn in surprise or realization; the gruff and obvious veteran hefting his arrow blade over his shoulder did not even realize something was wrong as the Black Arrows silently emerged from cover and took aim. The bullets from the lethal SMG punched into the veteran's back, quickly overloading his Aura within the first half second and severing his spine. He collapsed to the ground without a further sound.
Tycho quickly shot the taller but lankier second terrorist with a quick three round burst from the automatic pistol, the bullets also punching through the aura of the faunas and into his brain. He, too, slumped to the ground.
The third smaller terrorist, one with an assault rifle, quickly turned, but was met with a lethal spray directly across his head, making his once rat-like face a bloody mess of bone and lead.
The three collapsed to the ground, weapons banging to the concrete floor next to them. They had no idea what had happened, and they would never find out.
Tycho nodded to Avi, who looked mightily pleased with herself. She and Tycho each dawned a white mask, Tycho grabbing the assault rifle and Avi stripping a few extra magazines from the dead private's body. They both exited the cell, alarm still blaring, red lights still flashing, arrows now fired from their bow.
"You will be having a temporary new student staying with your team."
Ozpin's announcement surprised Ruby. This was a very uncommon thing to do. Sometimes transfers were assimilated into other teams before finding their own, or even simply moving through the school solo. It had happened once before during last year, but the new student quickly left campus after some incident. Ruby had never even met him.
"Okay sir, but may I get a little more information on her?"
"Actually, it's a him," a smooth and surprisingly familiar voice said behind her. Ruby turned from her position in front of Ozpin's desk to watch the new student walk up to her, having just exited from the elevator doors.
He wore a red suit with a white tie, the suit having an extravagant fire design across the tail end that extended up to his chest. His burgundy red eyes remind Ruby of Professor Port's own suit. He walked with his own cane, a strange black thing that served little obvious purpose. His long, orange-red hair was groomed to the side. The teen grinned, and Ruby immediately knew why she felt he was so unnervingly familiar.
"Hello," he said in a silky, casual voice, extending a hand out Ruby. "My name is Pharus Torchwick.
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
AN: HAAAAAY U GUUUUYS
Didn't believe me when I said I'd get it out this week, did ya? Who's laughing now?
Actually, it's just me. I love my cliffhangers.
Once again, thank you to all of you who have kept up with this story. It has made me empowered to keep writing (with, of course, a combination of enjoyment). I am balancing this with a completely unrelated (partially original) story of my own, so the time schedule with this fic is a little...haphazard.
Yeah.
Cookies, anyone?