Knight7572: ah, I see what you mean. That was Blackwood, however. That flashback will soon follow :)
Tuutje07: nine years old precisely. That is the reason.
Minesniper: and we're just getting started!
Beacon Academy
Holding cells
The first time the General hit him, it came as a surprise. The next six or seven times, not so much. Big man had a lot of strength behind his fist, but he lacked that psychotic knack for violence that often came coupled with these interrogation scenes.
That would make this an insulting caricature.
"Frost," he said, smirking as he did. "One zero six, six seven seven, nine nine."
Ironwood was fuming. His patience was dwindling like a corpse set alight. "I don't have time for your games, Schnee. Tell me."
Frost wouldn't let the man know how much he loathed that name. "If you can´t be patient, General, you won´t ever beat us."
The man lashed out again and nearly knocked him out of his chair. "We have ways of making you talk. It's up to you whether I employ them. What is Onyx trying to achieve here?"
What was Onyx trying to achieve? Hah. As if they would ever tell him. He only worked in the field, what use was knowing classified secrets to him? "You're boring me here, James," Frost said, spitting out a small mouthful of blood. "You're not the big boy here."
The General grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed him down against the metal table, denting it. Next thing he knew, the barrel of a large gun was pressed against the back of his head.
Despite the dizziness that the abuse of his skull was causing, Frost had to laugh. He had lost his sense of humour around the same time the White Fang had started losing their interest in keeping him in one piece, but this was about the closest he would come to feeling amusement. The idea of someone who wanted to fight Onyx threatening him with death. "You know you want to do it. Come on General, pull that trigger. You'd be doing me a favor."
He could hear Ironwood taking several deep breaths, before the gun was pulled away from his head. Another disappointment. "You're not getting off that easily," the General remarked. "Death is too cheap for the likes of you."
Frost tried to give a retort, nearly choked when a bit of blood accidentally entered his airways and coughed his way to the capacity of speech again. "Hah...you're less stupid than you look. So what's the plan, big guy? Lock me away in some prison?"
"You'd never see the light of day again," the General growled. "And I'm certain we can find you a nice place where every single inmate knows who you are and what you did. How long will you last before someone makes you their special friend?"
Frost was not impressed. "Dunno…I guess the same time it takes me to murder everyone in there. And didn't you know, James? Sunlight is overrated."
"Of course a cockroach like you wouldn't stand the light."
Being insulted took a degree of pride and dignity to be taken away. He had neither. Besides, he wasn't wrong. What else could you call someone who scurried around the places of war, clearing up the mess? "You've got nothing on me. Absolutely nothing."
"You don't even have a life," Ironwood said with disgust. "You're just a parasite."
Frost met the General's eyes. "You're wrong."
Now the big man gave a little smirk. "Am I now?"
"A parasite takes and gives nothing. That would be you. I kill parasites."
There was a brief pause, after which the General backhanded him hard enough to send him across the room. He loudly collided with the wall behind him and white spots exploded into his vision. "I'm a patient man, Schnee-"
Alright, fuck that satisfaction-thing. He couldn't stand that name. "Please. Call me Frost."
The General grabbed a hold of his throat and awkwardly shoved his head against the metal floor. "But my patience is running out! Nobody is immune to prolonged interrogation, Onyx. After the first few weeks, even you will break. You might have won the sympathy of these kids with your 'victimized child' card, but believe me when I say that nobody will miss you."
"Victimized child," Frost muttered. He had heard a lot of bad things, but that one was new. He was about as much a child as the General was and the only time he had been a victim, it had cost him bits and parts of himself.
Besides; Ironwood was just dead wrong there. As a matter of fact, there was one person who would miss him. And depending on the time, she was probably already missing him now. He hadn't come to Beacon just to get himself captured like this.
"Mark my words," the General then said, his voice dropping to a dangerously-low level. "You're just the first. I'm going to make sure you dogs will never hurt anyone again."
"Ah…" Frost said, grunting due to the iron-hard pressure that was being exerted on his larynx. Just a little bit more and it would probably ruin his throat. And it was his second one, to boot. "So…this is about…Odysseus."
For a split-second, the murderous look in Ironwood's eyes assured him that it would finally end. That the man would kill him then and there and he would finally be allowed to rest.
The disappointment stung all the more when the General simply let go of him, rising to his feet. He straightened his jacket and took a deep breath. "This is about…far more than him. This is about all the crimes your group committed, all the innocent lives you-"
"Yeah yeah," Frost coughed, wishing that his hands weren't bound so tight right now. His ruined shoulder was aching so bad right now. "Whatever. What time is it?"
Time to receive a stomp to the chest, apparently. The big guy's boot came down hard enough that Frost could have sworn he sunk an inch deeper into the floor. Luckily, his ribs remained intact.
"Joke all you want," Ironwood said, turning away and walking towards the door. "You won't get to just walk away this time."
His soldier posse followed him and the door was loudly closed after him.
Frost coughed again, slowly rolling to his stomach and crawling back to his feet. Bastard hadn't even untied him. Amber had better not smell the man's sweat on him. She'd do much more than simply rip out his throat. How the hell was he supposed to minimize casualties if he didn't know the damn time?
He guessed he was better off than he had predicted, all things considered. It would've been a thousand times worse had Ironwood's protégé been there. Damn woman…why did she have to show up today of all things? He might have even gone unnoticed if it hadn't been for Winter.
Frost sat back down on the chair and sighed. It was probably for the better that Winter and Weiss were both here now. At least now he could choose which one.
He closed his eyes and waited. Patience was one of the first virtues he had been taught. Waiting a few hours in a cell that didn't stink like rotting corpses was nothing compared to some of the other places he had been forced to wait a few hours. And he had a chair too.
Time went funny in a cell with nothing that could be used to indicate it. It might have been two hours, but it might have also been thirty minutes when someone banged against the door.
"Frost, is that you?"
He groaned when he heard that voice. Weiss Schnee…what was she doing here? Did Beacon allow visiting hours?
And where was Amber, anyway? "What?" He barked.
"You should get away from the door," another voice said. Female, younger. The redhead? "What are you-"
There was a massive gunshot and the upper hinge as blown free. A second later, the lower one got shot to hell as well.
Someone pulled at the handle, but the door didn't open. "It didn't work!" the young girl cried out in obvious dismay.
That was because the door was still locked. Blowing the hinges wouldn't work.
"Stand back, kiddo," someone else said. A gravelly male voice. One that Frost recognized, but he didn't know from where.
"Wait," Weiss then said, "shouldn't we at least try to do this discreetly?"
What part of breaking into the holding cells and shooting the hinges of a high-security door was in any way discreet?
There was another loud bang and the door got blown completely out of its frame. It wobbled dangerously before falling to the ground in the noisiest way possible.
Weiss Schnee, her redheaded teammate and an old man with a scythe and a red cape. He'd rather see Ironwood again.
"Frost!" Weiss exclaimed upon seeing him.
"I would have cleaned up had I known you'd come," Frost said.
"So this is your little nephew?" the man said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Charming."
Frost knew that man, but from where? His way of life didn't generally allow him to make new acquaintances. The entire point of him was making sure that there would be no witnesses. Had he met this guy?
"Oh, that doesn't look good," the redhead softy said when she laid her eyes on one of the droplets of blood that still clung to the table.
Looked good to him. No iron-deficiencies or other blood-related problems. It was the healthiest shade of red possible.
"What did he do to you?" Weiss called, quickly rushing towards him and reaching for his bound wrists. "What is wrong with that man?"
"Don't open that door," the dark-haired man remarked.
Weiss fumbled with the metallic bindings for a few moments, during which she not only didn't get them loose, but also succeeded in tightening them even further.
"Occupational hazard," Frost remarked, turning towards what could only be the other girl's father. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, I was just dropping by when I heard ol' Jimmie had you thrown behind bars," the man replied with a smirk. "Wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to mess with him."
Ol' Jimmie…Frost needed to remember that. "You're not supposed to be here," he told Weiss. "Why are you here?"
"You're welcome!" The Heiress bit back, before sighing in exasperation and drawing her rapier. "Don't move."
He couldn't move, she had tightened his bindings.
"We are here to save you," the redheaded girl said. Rather vehemently, too.
"I have it under control," Frost growled. Even when they got him captured by the enemy, they couldn't stop messing with the plan.
The man glanced at the fallen door and shrugged. "Looks very 'under control' to me. What were you going to do, dig your way out?" A brief pause. "With a spoon?"
Weiss ripped through the bindings that kept his wrists bound, but also cut through the glove on his left hand. He sighed with annoyance and pulled his hands free, ripping the now-useless piece of clothing free too. "What time is it?"
The Heiress picked up the white piece of fabric and clumsily offered it him, without meeting his eyes. Instead she looked at his hand, whereupon she sighed and covered her mouth with her other hand. "What happened to your hand?"
Frost quickly tucked his fingers against the palm of his hand, including the mechanical thumb, index and ring finger. "Fed the wrong animals. What time, princess?"
"It'll be evening in ten minutes," the redheaded girl said, placing her hands on her hips. "And you're welcome, by the way! It was difficult finding the right cell!"
"The General will be meeting the Headmaster tonight," the man said. "You'd better get out of here while you can."
…was that the faint smell of alcohol he smelled? Now he definitely knew who this man was. The Huntsman, Qrow Branwen, the man who had single-handedly raided more Onyx facilities than most armed forces had. He stood all the way on top of Onyx's yellow list, together with Matt Adamant and a few other individuals.
Cozy.
Almost evening…Amber was very close to hitting the school. And now that he had gotten himself captured, security was bound to be doubled. Great, more blood for him to clean…"I don't recall the need to run," Frost replied, before turning to Weiss. "Where is your sister?"
"She and I agreed that it would be for the best of the let me do the talking," Weiss replied, crossing her arms. "And you are not going after her! Don't you dare!"
As if she was worth the trouble. "I got more urgent matters to attend to," he replied. "An associate of mine is dropping by soon. She doesn't take kindly to…" Well, he had to be honest here. "…people. I'd like her to see me first."
"What's so bad about an Onyx girl knocking on our door?" the man remarked. "Unless she's not dressed for the occasion, of course."
"Qrow!" the redhead cried out. "Now is not the time."
Yep. Definitely Qrow Branwen.
"Don't tell me," Weiss said. "It's that girl?"
Frost glanced at the Heiress, actually somewhat impressed by her perception. "Think I'm trouble? Wait until she gets grumpy."
"Sounds like my kind of girl," Qrow said. "A shame I've got to leave now. Jimmie ain't the only one who gets to meet the Headmaster. You two will be fine, right?"
Frost very much doubted that.
"Well, what are we waiting for then?" Weiss cried out. "Tell her you're alright!"
She was supposed to meet him at the holding cells, but someone kicked the door in with all the subtlety of Amber herself.
The girl had better taken the rifle with her. If he was to end this whole Company business, he didn't have more time to lose. He had humored Weiss Schnee long enough. And Winter was here now, too. That left him free to execute the freedom that Onyxh ad granted him. The very first time he had a freedom in his entire life, as well. The freedom to pick.
So which one would he pick?
Campus grounds
22:19
"Are you sure?" Cinder Fall asked, glancing at the scorch marks that still pocketed the garden after the failed assassination attempt the day before.
"White hair, unhealthy obsession with the Schnee family and more repressed anger than an Ursa. It was him."
"What do we do?" Emerald said, trying to hide her unease and failing.
Hmm…she had not taken Frost Schnee into account. Ironwood and his tin men were one thing, but he was a whole different thing. Despite Onyx' best efforts to quench it, his reputation preceded him. Where he went, bothersome situations got cleaned up, and people inadvertently died. And while that was not necessarily a bad thing, it did mean that they had to be very careful with their next steps. "He has no idea who we are. If we play this right, he can take the fall."
Mercury kicked a fallen piece of wood, breaking it in half. "He sure seemed interested in the good General's sidekick. Man, family feuds get ugly sometimes. Didn't even bother to use his other arm."
At that, Cinder felt her curiosity aroused. "Which one?"
He shrugged. "Dunno. Left one, I guess."
Interesting…very interesting. From what her…mutual friend had told her, Frost was not the type to hold back at all. Whether he was executing young women who had seen too much or fending off elite Huntsmen, he always fought with the same focus and dedication. Something must have happened to him. Specifically, his left arm.
The silly boy must have picked a fight with the wrong people.
Cinder smiled. "Don't worry about the Schnee. That problem should take care of itself. We should focus on-"
Something impacted on her associate's face and he cried out in alarm, clutching his face as large droplets of red splattered to the ground.
"Mercury!" Emerald yelled, before quickly leaping backwards to avoid a similar fate. Cinder projected a barrier in front of herself, which stopped another projectile dead in its tracks.
"What the hell," Mercury snapped, wiping his stained hands on his pants. "Paint?"
The trajectory and the impact placed the shooter atop one of the roofs in Beacon. Cinder followed the trail with her sharp eyes and sure enough, a figure detached from the background, rising to his feet. Only one person would attempt to snipe three students this late in the evening with paint rounds.
"William Greystone," Cinder said, shaking her head. She was disappointed, in a way. He should have been smart. She would have saved the Catalyst for last. She would have allowed the two of them to spent a few more days together before the inevitable end. Now, she would come for her.
"He is so dead," Emerald growled.
"When do we nail him?" Mercury eagerly asked. His Aura had stopped most of the paint, but he still had a red smear on his chest.
Cinder inhaled, slowly taking in the scent of the falling night. The most promising revelation of all, her contact had promised her that. A power unlike anything mankind had ever forged, powered by the soul of a forsaken child. Compared to that, even the power of the Four Seasons paled.
Her chest burned with anticipation. "Why wait?" She said. "I think it's time to ease the little bird's suffering."
"What, here?" Emerald questioned.
Most likely not. The Onyx dog had formed a nauseating attachment to his new master. He would not risk everything in a fight right here. It was the reason why he had used paint instead of live rounds; he was going to lure them to a different place, where they could dance without anyone interfering.
"Why not?" Mercury replied. "Would be fun, showing these kids a real fight."
The figure stepped back and faded away in the shadows. How befitting.
"Follow him," Cinder said, pushing away the burning feeling of hunger and desire. She would have all the time in the world to get to know the little bird when she ripped her from his body. "And be careful."
"For what?" Emerald exclaimed. "It's just one freak-"
Scowling, Cinder reached out and slapped the girl in her face. She staggered backwards, clutching her cheek with her hands. "Do not question me!" Cinder sharply said. "Not if you want to survive. That 'freak' has been fighting and killing longer than you have been stealing. To underestimate him is a fool's wager."
"He didn't seem that impressive last time," Mercury carefully said, making sure to keep a plain and casual appearance. In their time as a group, she had rarely, if ever had to discipline him. He had a way of pointing out details as if they were obvious, without risking her wrath if they were contrary to what she had planned.
Cinder liked how he was basically walking on his toes to avoid provoking her. Well, metaphorically, of course. "He is holding back. He has been for months. If you need a reminder, Cassandra's reports are still present on your scroll."
Mercury grunted. The images that the ex-Onyx scientist had gathered during her time as a disavowed had made him rather uncomfortable. It seemed that everybody had standards.
So to close in on him unprepared was a death sentence for anyone without her capabilities. If everybody reminded that, nobody would have to get hurt today.
Nobody except for him, of course.
Several kilometers from Vale, city
Unidentified bridge
23:12
Four placed, one more to go. The weak supports holding the structure in in the air were easy to identify, though the exact amount of hardware needed to take them out was hard to wager.
'I really think we should have told her that we would be going tonight.'
Will placed the explosive charge and linked the signal to remote detonation. "And make her all worried? It's better this way."
'But what if we fail?'
"We won't." It wasn't a lie. Not technically. This was the best-prepared operation he had taken in a long time.
'It does feel like we're leaving loved ones behind for one last mission. You don't have a picture of her, do you?'
A picture of Yang…he would really like that. Such a thing was not done, however. "It would be creepy."
'That's silly. It would just be romantic. You would need a normal picture though…'
While he was far from superstitious, it didn't feel good to take 'one last look' at the picture of a lost one before any operation. That was just asking for trouble.
Nonetheless, it was an…attractive prospect. He had seen enough dying soldiers seemingly comforted by a piece of paper with someone's face on it to know that it was a thing of all times and places. "Let's just get this over with first. If we do this, they will be safe."
'Right. Do you have everything ready? Explosive charges?'
Will checked the signal of the last C12 Havoc charge. "Check."
'Your v-vontaige spot?'
"…what?"
'Van…v-vant…'
"Almost there," Will said, teasingly.
'Vantage point!'
The air of victory in her voice made him feel like they had practically won this confrontation already. "Check," he said with a slight smile. This bridge had been declared unsafe years ago, when a sudden Grimm attack had caught hundreds of civilians as they were trying to evacuate across of it into Vale. With the Kingdom so close by, security had been lacking somewhat.
By the time Onyx had gotten there, there had been only mangled bodies left to identify. He was sure that, in some way or another, they would have gotten the blame for their deaths as well.
But it did mean that this place was a perfect place for an ambush. An upturned truck served as his vantage point, from where he could lock down the entirety of the bridge with superior firing lanes.
'Ammo?'
In the truck, several boxes of munition for his Marksman Rifle. "Check."
'Armour for when I fail?' She then asked with a small voice.
"You won't fail, " he reassured her, "but check."
Ancilla had discovered how to channel his Aura again. It wasn't much and it sure didn't last long, but combining it with hers, she could create an impressive defense over a vital point in his body. Albeit temporarily. Still, the last of his supplies would have to serve him just in case his enemy was strong enough to overcome that defense. The undersuit of body armour wasn't the strongest one he could think of, but it would serve its purpose.
'And last but not least…your weapon when they come close?'
Will pulled his tanto machete from its sheath, whipping the blade through the air and cutting through a protruding mirror from a large jeep, slicing it clean off. "Check," he said, much more enthusiastically than before.
'Another blade. I thought you didn't like swords?'
This thing wasn't technically a sword. "I don't know…I thought I didn't, but each time I see one, I get this weird feeling inside. Like I know it." The feeling was difficult to explain and his effort made it sound stupid.
'You…you get this with every sword?' She carefully asked.
Yes -no. Not every sword. Blake's sword, for example, didn't do much for him. But its sheath…it gave him a tingling feeling in his spine just thinking about it. And the big guy, Yatsu-something-else, his sword was even more impressive. Just seeing it made him want to rip it from his body and use it for himself. The damn thing was just not build for balance and finesse, unfortunately. Weiss' rapier was better suited for that, but it was too small.
He didn't need to speak his thoughts for her. His feelings regarding the matter were enough for her. "Was it like that in the past, too?" He asked.
'I…I don't know. C-can't remember.'
He had expected as much. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something that Ancilla wasn't telling him. It would be the first time in his life if she kept something from him now though.
Better chalk it up to the training for now. "We should get ready. They'll be coming soon."
With that, Will took his refuge inside of the upturned truck and placed his rifle against the frame of its door. He had made very sure that the three would come after him, going as far as to leave an obvious trail for them to follow. It might not even be three. Cinder might bring more of her bribed or blackmailed Atlesian soldiers. He liked to think that it wouldn't matter.
Time slowly crept by as Will held his position, standing in the inside of the cabin while keeping the bridge locked down. One minute became five, then fifteen. Eventually, Ancilla grew bored.
'What happens after this?' She asked.
"We'll rip every single piece of data from Beacon's system," he replied. "If nobody knows where to look, we'll start hitting Onyx bases. It has to be somewhere."
'Do you think we have that time?'
There was no need to think about that right now. "Yes. And I'll make sure they will pay for every day of your life they stole."
'I don't want more violence. Can't we just build a life at Beacon? Please?'
That was a whole different can of problems. "Sure. If that's what you want."
'Thank you, Will.'
She seemed content with that and that was all that mattered. So he kept watch. Another thirty minutes crept by and his arms were starting to feel a bit weary. All the training in existence couldn't keep you in form if you neglected to keep it up. He had been too busy with too many things, neglecting to properly keep himself fit. Even-
There was movement at the far end of the bridge and Will cut his thoughts short, focusing on nothing more than the beating of his heart and the sight of his targets.
It wasn't them. It was an old man, walking with a cane. Walking past the abandoned cars and entombed corpses without a care in the world, proceeding deeper into hostile territory.
Trap.
'You're not going to-'
Will pulled the trigger and the barrel of his rifle exploded, propelling the massive round it carried with enough speed to punch through a helicopter. The bullet tore through the man's skull and his body slumped to the ground.
Fake.
'What on Remnant are you doing!' Ancilla yelled, but he cycled the chamber and send another round through the geezer's body.
It didn't budge an inch.
Just like he thought. A headshot from this weapon would turn anyone's head into a thin, red mist. It carried enough force to stop a charging Ursa dead in its tracks, so an old guy like this one wouldn't stand a chance.
The air in his area of operations started shimmering and glistering. There were blurs of motion, as if the wind was carrying a thin veil of plastic across the ground. Either he was hallucinating again or someone was messing with his senses. Both chances were equally logical, but still his body kicked into overdrive at the mere thought of entering combat again.
'He…he disappeared.'
True enough, the corpse faded away. He was under attack.
The Operative sighted in on the visual anomalies and opened fire. Seven shots rang out in quick succession, but nothing indicated that he hit his mark.
Then, at point blank range, a figure leapt at him. Green hair and dark skin, dead in the air with nowhere to run.
He pulled the sidearm from his hip and shot the apparition through its head. Not even Jaune Arc would charge at an entrenched position like that.
At the exact moment he forced the apparition to disappear, a trio of people appeared in his peripheral vision. He immediately shifted his rifle, took a split second to align the scope with Cinder Fall's head and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times.
She raised her hand and blocked all three rounds with casual movements, removing that possibility from the equation.
Cinder took a step forwards and Will rose from his position, making use that she knew he would shoot again if she continued. He did not neglect to keep an eye on the two punks though, as he knew that they were going to try and outflank him. They stood at her side like they were her lackeys. And she had a word about his obedience?
"It's three on one," the green-haired girl bit at him. There was animosity in her voice, aggression in her stance. "Drop your weapon!"
He saw through her act. A brave front, quickly put up to hide the terror that was coursing through her body. "She's scared," Will told Cinder. "You had to drag them in this?"
"Of course she is," the raven-haired woman replied, with a smile that signified that it was her who was in control, and not him. "Who wouldn't be, facing you?"
'Will, easy. She's talking. Maybe we can find out what she wants?'
Easier said than done. Greystone dropped down from his position and dropped his rifle. It would only hinder him at this point.
Cinder took a few steps forwards and the Operative tensed up, stuck between his instinctive compulsion to lash out and Ancilla's repeated warnings to find out what they wanted. Something about her scared him. No, fright wasn't what he felt. Something about her riled him up, driving him mad with desire, but for what he didn't know.
"You, who has been killing for a decade," Cinder continued. "You, who personally slaughtered so many people in Vacuo that multiple companies placed a kill-order on your head, at the age of ten?"
"Just keep her talking," Ancilla said, sounding very much disturbed.
How? How did Cinder know this? And why tell him? "You're the one to talk. You've killed many innocent people."
Cinder brandished a truly wicked smile. "And you even more so. Don't be ashamed. It's only your nature, running its course."
Her words touched him deeper than he had expected. They burned, setting alight a trail of anger and indignation. "It wasn't my choice!"
His temperature was rising and it didn´t die down again. "Not my choice," he quietly repeated. Headaches, voices. Ancilla did what she could to quench them, but it didn't work. "But I gave you one. You brought this on yours-"
"You will die here, unless you stop holding back," the woman spoke, cutting him off. Her slender, feminine figure hid the true power she wielded. Power someone could not attain on their own.
"I never hold back against people like you," Will replied.
Cinder chuckled. Someone like her should not sound so endearing! "I think you do. There is no impact behind your strikes, no force behind your movements. You deny your weapons their true potential. Your true potential."
'Don´t listen to her,´ Ancilla immediately declared. Too immediately. A sign that something was very, very wrong. The headache faded away, but then came doubt and uncertainty.
Should be obey her? Or was this the first time in his life that she withheld the truth from him?
"You made the decision to lure us all the way here, for what? A fair fight?"
No. "You won't harm anyone here."
Cinder merely laughed at that. "I think you mean you won't harm anyone here?"
What?
"Because," she continued, perhaps sensing the confusion she was sowing, "truly, you care little for those around you. How could you, when they trigger your murderous intent with each and every step they take?"
A sensitive chord. His feelings towards the world were irrelevant-
'No, they are not. You will not beat her if you deny what you feel. But if you listen to her…you might not like what you find out.'
What did that mean? Did she…did she know what Cinder meant? How?
"I know you," Cinder told him with a voice that was too tender for this situation. Almost loving. "Better than you know yourself. You look at the people around you, all those arrogant, wretched civilians living their lives safely because of your sacrifices, and you feel hate. You feel scorn and loathing. You yearn to end their pitiful lives, yet you remain chained by your desire to serve them. It weakens you...so. Much."
She could convey his conflicting feelings in words, so perfectly. Did she…did she really understand? "That's not…only the ones who pose a threat. Not…not all of them."
"A threat? To you? It is time to be honest to yourself, Greystone."
She…she was right. Even without Aura, even without his body at peak efficiency, those faceless mobs would never be able to harm him. "I fight to protect the innocent," he insisted. Never before had those words sounded so hollow. So pointless. "To serve-"
"You and I both know that to be a lie, Greystone," Cinder cut him off. Her voice was so alluring that he did not even mind. "Deep down, you always knew. And it was never about serving. You like this."
'But how could you not?' Ancilla suddenly shouted at him. 'How couldn't you like it, when they made it your addiction? When they made it a perverse pleasure to kill?'
"I-" He slowly sank through his knee, stricken by the horror and simplicity of it all. Overwhelmed by the sheer logic and reason that she brought to him.
Memories crept on him. Laughter at the sacking of Vacuo's capital, the deaths of many hundreds of people, combatants and noncombatants alike. The satisfaction, glee and pleasure of his blade, slicing through exposed flesh.
When others died and he lived, he was more alive than ever.
'I couldn't live like that. And neither could you.'
She controlled his Semblance. His body, his mind, on a biological level. On the level of his soul.
He slammed his fist into the pavement underneath him, which cracked under the impact. Damnit, why hadn't Ancilla told him! What had she done to him, to make him forget that? The core of who he was? "You're…right. All those years, I told myself that it was my purpose," he whispered. "I fought because I was ordered to. But when she came…that changed. I believed that I could do good." He shook his head at that delusion. "If the killing was useful, there was no need to feel guilty."
Fighting for the greater good of mankind…a clever and convenient lie to hide his true self. Ancilla remained silent. Another sign of the real truth.
"You wanted to explain away the pleasure it gave you," Cinder told him. Her affectionate, caring voice, so filled with a wicked desire, brought into words that which he had tried to rationalize for years at an end.
"I learned young that killing felt good," he said, remembering the warm jolts of joy and desire that had surged through his body every time he performed the deed. "Really good." He could still taste the sharp hint of narcotics mixed through his food. After each successful action, used to sharpen his feelings and make them feel better about it.
He looked up, staring at those bright, cruel eyes of the one who had freed him of his self-inflected chains. "I always told myself that I fought because it was the only thing I could do. The only thing I was good at." He laughed, for the first time in thirteen months without restraint, and both Mercury as Emerald took a step backwards.
He could feel their movements vibrating through the stone, he could see their shifting in the corners of his eyes. There was no need to keep it back. It was like a weight had dropped off his shoulders; there was no need to keep lying to himself. No need to restrain himself. "But I was wrong. I fight because it's the only thing I like."
"He's lost his mind," Mercury said.
No. He had finally regained it. A weight had fallen from his shoulders, freeing him of the mental shackles that Ancilla had forged.
Will slowly rose to his feet again as a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through his veins. The anticipation of another fight, another kill. "The…serving of mankind…I guess it was just a guise to hide my true self. What I was really like."
"Tell me William," Cinder nearly whispered at him. "What are you really like?"
Operative Greystone…butcherer in Vacuo, murderer in Mistral. "I think I'm about find out." The anticipation was wrecking him. Enough talking. His skin was itching, his blood burning.
"Excellent," Cinder said with a smirk. She too realized the change in the atmosphere, the electric crackle of murderous intent. "You have something that belongs to me. If you give her to me, I can grant you your desires. I can teach you how to stop holding back."
'W-will?' Ancilla nervously asked. 'This…even now, this…this doesn't change anything…does it?'
"Never." To Cinder, he said, "Do you know why those armed forces placed a kill order on my head? Why they feared me so much? I'll show you."
Her eyes narrowed. "Gladly."
There was a flash of light, followed by movement. As Will tried to reassure Ancilla that he would never allow anyone to harm her -that this new view would only allow them to fight better- Cinder struck.
He allowed her. It was time to let the Operative loose.
A thin, razor-sharp blade drilled through his chest, penetrating his suit, skin and muscles. It impaled him all the way to his back, breaking through the skin of his outfit on the other side. Blood poured down from the wound, and he could anticipate the pain.
Pain. The agony sharpened his senses and cleared up the tendrils of doubt that remained. He knew pain. It was his life, his motivation. With it coursing through his body, everything worked so much better.
He stumbled backwards, clutching the makeshift projectile with both hands. "Ah…" Fresh, searing pain like this made him realize he was truly alive. Who were they to keep him down? Pin him to the ground like an animal? He knew his place perfectly.
Knee-deep in bodies.
Will laughed again, shivering, pulling the blade right out. Blood poured from the open wound, forming a small stain of crimson on the concrete below. Ancilla immediately distanced herself from his pain, allowing him to bear it all. She was going to be busy soon. "Good...hurt me." The weapon left his body and Ancilla immediately regenerated the wound, repairing the ruined tissue and knitting back the torn muscles. "It won't be enough!"
At that exclamation, Mercury and Emerald rushed forwards. Greystone grinned and flung the weapon at the two attacking brats, forcing them to break off their attack and jump to the side.
His turn. He exhaled and kicked off, shattering the stone underneath his feet and covering the half a dozen meters that separated him and his victims in a heartbeat. Mercury was the first, reminding Will of all those arrogant and faceless corpses on the battlefield. He collided with enough force to rip a Beowolf in half, but Mercury stayed remarkably intact. He brought his arms up and lashed out with his feet at the same time, slamming his twin metal boots against the Operative's sternum in his own defense.
The blow killed the momentum that Will had and launched Mercury further back, but that didn't matter. Outlasting them or overpowering them, both were viable options. "Ancilla, do it."
'R-right. Protect the head-'
"And keep the organs together."
Mercury was fleet on his feet. Large strides, multiple meters per footstep. Right on top of him with a flurry of kicks, supported by metal boots heavier than most sidearms. Cinder seemed content to watch.
'Where is the girl?'
Will leapt backwards to avoid a blow to his head and then pinned Mercury's leg against his side with his elbow. He was about to drive his right hand straight into the boy's eye when a gunshot forced him to change his tactics. He ducked low as a green-white projectile tore through the air he had just vacated and dove underneath a well-aimed roundhouse kick as Mercury went on the offensive once more.
He traced the trajectory of the bullet towards a large truck parked at the side of the bridge. Sure enough, a blur of green betrayed her position.
Gotcha.
'Ah…there she is.'
Relentlessly, Mercury pushed the attack, stringing together eight heavy kicks within three seconds. There was a bigger threat on the prowl. Greystone was the first to admit that his mind was far from healthy and stable, but even he knew that the enemy couldn't be everywhere at once.
Emerald was. Impressive speed, alluring frailty. Blurring from the left flank to the right flank, striking him even from behind. Strikes that he could barely defend himself against.
So he adjusted accordingly. His fist carved through Emerald's body, succeeding only in separating mirage from reality. At that moment, he reached behind him and grabbed the hilt of his own weapon, pulling it out in one smooth movement. It had proven useful in defending against team RWBY. Now it would prove useful in slaughtering his enemies.
The next second, Mercury's boot passed his face within an inch and Will felt something touch his shoulder. He reacted with ingrained reflexes and pinned the offending limb at his shoulder, twisted his hips and flipped Mercury to the ground.
Will growled with dissatisfaction. A takedown like that would have incapacitated any normal man, but Mercury Black was far from normal. As such, the attack mere fazed him and allowed Emerald to save his life. His time with the Beacon kids had dulled his killer instinct, robbed him of a quick kill.
Fine. It was going to be that way.
Greystone whipped out his blade and deflected Emerald as she struck at him with her chained weapons from three different directions.
The front was fake, as was the right flank. The left was real and the chain wrapped itself around the hilt of his tanto machete.
Will spread his legs out and lowered his center of balance before the girl could pull him off his feet. Mercury saw what was happening and tried to take advantage of his temporary disadvantage, immediately moving in to crack his skull open while he was preoccupied.
That was not going to happen. Will dodged the first strike and lashed out with his elbow, narrowly missing Mercury's face. The next moment he forcefully jerked his chained arm backwards, jerking Emerald off her feet and towards him.
Mercury uttered a cry and kicked at his midsection, immediately following up by spinning on his heels and performing a roundhouse kick.
The Operative was forced to hop backwards and deflect the second strike with the palm of his free hand, lest he give Emerald a chance to recover.
She was strong, but he was much stronger. H grabbed a fistful of the coloured chains and ripped them towards him, positioning his blade in such a way that the girl would impale herself the second she came close enough-
Mercury lashed out at his blade with a high jump-kick, saving Emerald from certain death.
The girl immediately recovered and whipped her other weapon around, nearly impaling Will's blade-arm with the jagged edge of her revolver. He only avoided that one by grabbing Mercury's other leg when it came up and using that to deflect the blade.
Emerald's weapon ripped through her partner's jeans and carved deep trails in the fabric.
Greystone liked the idea of crippling the kicker's legs and pulled the girl closer still, lashing out with an open-palm strike powerful enough to send her flying off.
Mercury performed another roundhouse kick and Greystone allowed it to make contact, but only briefly. He moved with the direction of the attack and immediately stepped closer, pushing the fighter off-balance and throwing him to the ground.
Will allowed a feral grin to play over his features and plunged the bladed edge of his machete straight into Mercury's right knee, seeking to cap his knees.
The metal blade found an unusual resistance in the leg, as if he was trying to stab an armoured vehicle instead of flesh. When the blade found its mark, Mercury barely reacted. No screams, no blood, no thrashing.
A disappointment.
Will scowled and ripped the blade downwards across his leg, but it didn't do anything. A few sparks and that was it.
The disappointment must have weakened his grip, because Mercury firmly planted his hands on the concrete and pushed off, escaping what could have lasted much longer.
There was a gunshot and a white-hot projectile sailed past Will's head, flaking off a thin trail of skin as it narrowly grazed him.
Mercury immediately created several meters of distance, performing several backward flips to get away.
Growling, Greystone jumped to his feet to go after him, but something distracted him. A visage of bright, golden hair and beautiful lilac eyes. She was wearing a white dress, which contrasted starkly with the filthy battleground that this bridge had become.
Will felt his coiled muscles relax and he blinked. "Yang-?"
The ground underneath him exploded in a flash of fire and debris and a corona of flames washed over him, dragging him along in a violent torrent that burned straight through the protective plating and undersuit.
Ancilla screamed a fear and a deep sensation of sheer terror build up inside of his stomach, quickly followed by a fury that managed to drown it out.
Will came to a standstill against an abandoned car, denting the metal and searing the ground underneath it with the residue heat. The skin on his hands was all cut and blistered and portions of his clothes were on fire.
Pyrophobia. Ancilla was absolutely terrified of flames and heat. It scared her out of her mind, instantly sending her coiling up like a wounded animal. Just like the first few days.
The Operative swatted at the flames that licked at his body, seething with anger. An extremely low blow that he would not fall for a second time. Luckily, his undersuit had taken the worst of the flames. The flexible armour was ruined and had to go, at least it wouldn't restrict his movements anymore.
"Now you're just being nauseating," he growled at the approaching figure of Cinder Fall. It looked like she had done enough watching.
"It was weakness on your part," Cinder remarked with her calm, seductive voice. "She would never come to your aid like that. You know that."
Will discovered what it was that set Cinder and Yang apart. Yang embodied comfort and warmth, while Cinder embodied fire and flames. Someone who could so easily control Ancilla with fear was someone who could not be allowed to live. Like the monsters who had worked on the Catalyst program in the first place, he would hunt her down.
"If it's going to be like that…" the Operative reached for the syringe that he had strapped to his thigh. Perhaps they thought he was reaching for some secret weapon of sorts; they didn't stop him.
He popped the seal and pushed the thin needle into the side of his neck. If he was going to be without his Semblance for a while, bleeding out was something he could not afford. This was the next best thing.
Upon seeing that he had simply reached for combat stimulants, Cinder scowled and performed a small gesture with her hand, signaling her allies to attack.
She had been right. He understood that now. He had been holding back for a long time now. A year, perhaps more. He was not afraid of war. Not hesitant for the fight. Back in Vacuo, during Onyx's final assault on the then-completely corrupted capital, the three of them had gleefully spent countless hours hunting down and killing everything that got in their way. Mercenaries, criminals, terrorists and terrified civilians who had picked up arms against them. There had been no difference.
He kicked off against the ground, which shattered underneath the force. Mercury and Emerald never reached him and their last-ditched attacks to nail him mid-strike failed. The several meters that separated him from his foe faded into nothingness and he spun his body around at the last moment, aiming with his heel at Cinder's exposed throat. Even against full Aura protection, a hit like that would have been lethal.
It didn't connect. There was a flash of light and the sharp bite of a sharp edge, forcing him to jump backwards to avoid a lethal counterattack.
"What" he breathed, watching the woman brandish a duel set of wicked-looking swords, apparently made out of glass.
"You still have far to go," she said, before taking several steps backwards and transforming her swords into a large bow.
Ancilla's crippling panic over the searing flames and his own increasing fury at the situation send him over the edge. He brandished his tanto machete and, with trained precision and force, struck the woman who had so deeply managed to stir his deepest and darkest thoughts. He ignored all rules of discipline and threw every ounce of aggression and frustration he could muster into his blows, shattering concrete and slicing through the metal frames of the abandoned cars.
It didn't get him anywhere. She was more agile, more accurate. She had more support. Each time he was about to push her on the defensive, either Mercury or Emerald would attempt to strike him from a blind spot.
He kicked Mercury away from him and strung together a rapid series of slashes at Cinder's neck and chest. A flash of motion exploded near his right and he instinctively ducked low to avoid a strike that would have costed him his throat, driving his elbow into Emerald's gut with enough strength to send her flying. The brief counters lasted perhaps for a second, but Cinder recognized and took them.
Regular attempts at her life didn't work, it seemed. She created several meters of distance between them and forged several flat-headed arrows with her bow, before firing them off with speeds rivalling that of bullets.
Will smirked and, with a flash of his blade, cut them in half as they passed him by-
-only for two of them to come back and nail him from behind. He was barely able to catch one of them before it could hit him, but the other found its mark in his side.
Was that the best she could come up with?
He ripped the arrow from his body and observed its head for a brief moment. No serrated edges or hooks, nothing to make him want to avoid removing it. Again, a disappointment.
Cinder took aim with her bow again, but this time she wouldn't get away with it.
Will dropped the arrow to the ground and was nearly able to take three steps before something cold and hard wrapped itself around his wrist, jerking him backwards and stopping him yet again. He looked down and was surprised to see that it was the same chain used against him earlier, but this time in a much more unfortunate timing.
The chains hauled him off his feet and pulled him back through the battlefield by his arms. He kicked with his feet, but he wasn't able to get himself free. Before he knew it, he impacted against the destroyed husk of a car and his arm was bent a painful way behind his shoulder, pinning him down.
"Think you had it tough?" He heard Emerald shout at him from behind. He glared over his shoulder at the bold girl, who had wrapped her chains around a lamppost to keep him trapped. No way he was escaping this through brute force alone. "You think you're the only one who had it hard?"
Even here he remained a stranger.
Cinder jumped down in front of him, keeping her distance. She smiled and nocked an arrow, taking aim at his head.
Will growled with frustration and flicked his blade to his other hand-
- only for Mercury to kick it out of the air. He planted his hands on the roof of the car and lashed out with his legs at the Operative's face, forcing him to duck low and defend himself with his other hand arm.
He came close within reach. Close enough to grab him and crush his throat. A soul couldn't be cut, but he could still eliminate him from this fight.
Another chain wrapped itself around his arm, catching it midstrike and pinning it against the metal frame of the car as well.
"Damnit," Will grunted, giving a jerk to test the chains' strength. They didn't budge. Bitch must have wrapped them around the lamppost as well.
"Gotcha," Mercury said with a smirk, hopping just out of his reach.
Will gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to scream with frustration. His ears were ringing with sound and when he looked at the chains keeping him pinned, they briefly flickered and turned into dark, seeping tentacles, oozing with mud and blood.
Was this it? The extent of his strength? The range of his fury? If it was, what was he even here for? He'd let go of himself, of his own identity, and now he didn't even know what his reason was.
He looked up at the raven-haired woman, who let her arrow fly. Nowhere to go, nowhere to run. It impacted on his chest and embedded itself between his ribs.
The skies seemed to darken, as if dark clouds were gathering above their heads. It wasn't water that poured down on him. Merely waves of pain.
Not yet.
Through his fury-induced haze, Will remembered one thing. The only thing he knew for real.
Cinder nocked another arrow, taking her sweet time to take aim. Nobody interfered.
The only thing he knew for real. There would be blood. His or theirs. He'd fight just to spite himself.
"Ancilla…"
As horrifying as the fire was to her, something else would take its place if she couldn't rise above it. Something even worse. It was coming, and it wouldn't stop until even her dreams disappear. He was powerless to stop it. Between the loss of his identity and the loss of his humanity, he was starting to wonder if he had already gone insane.
"Ancilla? I need you."
He pulled at the chains once more, grunting with exertion. He knew what he needed to do and it would be painful.
"Ancilla, do it!"
There was an influx of heat and cold inside of his mind, intense enough that it spread through his spine and into his limbs.
Oh, it would hurt. But it would be his. It would be right.
Yang and Ruby always shouted when they attacked. Blake and Weiss too. He had never seen the point behind it, but that was then. This was now.
Will flexed his left arm and ripped. A low cry of exertion escaped his throat as he felt the muscles and tendons throughout the limb leap towards their limits and then beyond them. The chains gave away and ripped free of their origin with a mighty creak of tearing metal and crumbling stone.
Cinder saw what he was doing and let her arrow fly.
The metal went slack and the Operative immediately twisted his body sideways and snatched the projectile from the air right as it passed in front of him.
"No!" Emerald shouted.
"Hah!" Will exclaimed. One of the tendons in his arm tore, but it was of no consequence. He gave another heave with his arms and ripped the lamppost free, concrete and all. Ancilla had temporarily lifted the biological restraints on his body, allowing him fight beyond what was possible for his body.
Nobody would keep him chained up.
He exhaled sharply and dropped to the ground, hooking his left leg behind the long chain. It ripped the concrete as well as the lamppost towards him, forcing Emerald to dive out of the way or get beheaded. He then dropped to his back and whipped his other leg into the chain as well, whipping it over his head in the same manner he had seen Mercury perform during this very fight.
The massive lamppost and piece of rubble he had forced loose with it swung in a wide arc around his body, forcing the defenders back and swiping cars straight off the bridge into the dark, wild river below. The immense strain the effort put on his muscles was slowly starting to catch up on him, and this fight couldn't last forever. Eventually, he rolled onto his shoulders, barely managed to grab his blade and then pushed himself off the ground.
Using his tanto machete, he cut himself free of the chains and allowed the piece of metal and stone to fling off into the river as well.
That got their attention alright. All three of them sought him out the instant he had freed himself. Swords, revolvers and metal boots flashed at his face and in that instant, Will was where he belonged.
There was the steady rhythm of his heart, beating calmer and calmer inside of his chest. There was the serene movements of his body, completely devoid of thought and directed only by instinct and memory. He was determination. He was war.
Cinder struck at his stomach with her sword, but he deflected her strike to the right with his forearm, before taking a step back to avoid another strike at his neck. Another flash of the glass weapon came, deflected to the left.
Emerald attacked him with an overhead swipe using her remaining revolver-blade, which he caught between two arms and pinned at his side. One arm snapped up and struck her against the side of her head, which snapped back under the force. Her Aura flickered away into nothingness and, with one hand, he grabbed a hold of her neck.
Mercury shouted and launched himself at him with the sound of twin thunderstrikes, throwing himself into a roundhouse kick that came with more force than most martial arts instructors at Onyx could muster. In response, Will sunk through his legs and drove his elbow straight into his face, sending him flying head-over-heels as him momentum carried him further.
His Aura faded away as well.
Cinder found more success. With yet another small gesture of her hand, she created two swords out of nowhere and flung them at him with the speed of rifle bullets. Will was forced to let go of his prey to be able to bring his own weapon up fast enough.
Onyx-forged steel clashed with fire-forged glass and the two makeshift projectiles exploded into thousands of pieces of glass.
But Fall wasn't done. She thrust her hand forwards and the pieces, still in the air, turned into elongated projectiles with pointed edges.
Will gritted his teeth and forced himself to relax. The coiled-up muscles in his shoulders went taut and Cinder flung the hail of flechettes at him. There was no way he could block all of them without one taking him out, so he did the next best thing. He crouched low and pushed himself towards the nearest car, ripping its door off its frame and bringing it in front of him just in time as the storm of glass impacted.
The hundreds of projectiles rattled his arms shook his teeth. The upper metal tore asunder under the rain of shards and something grazed the side of his head, spilling droplets of blood that dripped into his right eye.
As the assault dissipated, Will was forced to drop his shield and clean his face. He heard the clatter of feet hitting concrete and as he hastily looked up, cursing himself for his lack of caution, he saw that his enemies had faded away again.
Something tall and massive stood in front of him, sprouting many dozens of tentacles and oozing mud all over the floor. The latent effects of the combat stimulants and the raging adrenaline worked well with the pain flowing through his nerves, as he managed to block out the mental rape of his mind long enough to focus on the battlefield.
Emerald appeared at his right, a dozen meters away. Then Mercury, to the left, half the distance.
Then Cinder, directly in front of him. She slashed at his chest with her sword and immediately followed up with a kick to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him.
The blood that poured from the open wound on his chest strengthened his resolve and drowned away the uncertainty. He raised his head and uttered a hoarse laugh, which unsettled Cinder enough that she immediately sought her distance.
Clever girl.
With muscles that could allow him to stop a rampaging Alpha Beowolf dead in its tracks, Operative Greystone launched himself past Cinder Fall, straight at her female companion. The meters faded away within half a heartbeat and she was barely able to bring her arms up to guard herself before he impacted on her, focusing the force of his movement into one single horizontal kick at her chest. The impact sent her flying, slamming into the back of a truck eight meters away.
Mercury had about a second to ready himself before it was his turn. He attempted to intercept him with an attack of his own, but in the showdown of brute strength that inevitably followed, the Operative easily won.
A sense of morbid pleasure washed over Will as he got his hands on Mercury. He pinned the punk´s right arm on his back and shoved him face-first into the ground, whereupon he brought his foot down on his knee, hard.
This is for Ancilla, he thought with a feral satisfaction.
Something broke and shattered underneath his strike, but it wasn't bone. The sound was different. A creak of metal, perhaps.
Then it struck him. Advanced prostheses. "Your legs are made of metal," he said, unable to suppress a smile.
"And still more human than you," Mercury bit back, desperately trying to crawl away now that one of his legs was out of commission. How he had survived the initial clash was beyond the child soldier; he had sheared off limbs and shattered chest cavities using blows in the past, and that had been before he had even reached puberty.
The Operative couldn't really disagree. Actually, he was only just getting started.
'Will!' Ancilla gasped.
"Easy. I'm here." Emerald was struggling to breathe and Mercury was effectively harmless. He could finish Cinder Fall here and now, and he would have the entire night to show her associates the finer details of being an Onyx Operative.
'He is coming for you now.'
There weren't many things that frightened him. In his current, state, he doubted that anything could shake him up. But the sudden calm and serene voice that Ancilla suddenly spoke in chilled him to his very core. It drove him to a complete standstill as the weight of her words struck him.
"What-"
His legs gave out underneath him and he fell to his knees. His adrenaline washed away, the latent effects of his combat drugs dissipated. Before him stood a living, collected mass of nightmares and fears. It's shaggy and torn lab coat was stained with blood and mud and its mouth -the empty, gaping and jagged hole that was its mouth- was contorted in a wicked smile.
Not now. Not here!
"No," Will whispered, but nobody heard him.
'There is no hiding.´
Thick, black tentacles covered with barbs and thorns wrapped itself around his arms, pulling him against the mud-spilled floor.
Before he could fully yield to its force however, something impacted on his back. The muscles around his spine went numb, but only for several fleeting moments. Then the pain struck him. Like the searing bite of a sudden flame, followed by several rolling twitches that danced across his nerves.
It was the exact same feeling as one of Cinder's arrows.
The agony washed over his senses like a great wave, drowning all emotions of fear and panic. It drove his fury and anger to the point where he was able to bring his hand down to his hip and rip the detonator from his belt.
Will glared at the agglomeration of terror and filth that stood before him and pressed the button, activating all the charges on the bridge-supports and completely leveling it.
~0~
Cinder released the tensed cord on her bow, releasing her arrow. It sailed straight and true and impacted the little demon right between his shoulder blades, just as she had taken down the Fall Maiden. Her former teammate.
The boy even fell to his hands and knees like she had done, but she doubted it was because of the pain. She had met a few psychopaths in her time since she had escaped those dark, wretched labs, but nothing quite like this. It was almost as if it fueled him like a Semblance, empowering him like a morbid drug.
Strange how it failed to execute that same effect now. Had her contact been right? Had his mental health really deteriorated to the point of acute visual hallucinations? Because whatever he was seeing right now, it wasn't her.
Suddenly, he rose to his knees again, brandishing another injection.
No, not an injection. That looked a lot like…a detonator.
Cinder scowled and quickly looked around at the most likely places for demolition. The bridge supports. Dark patches of black covered them at the base. He had rigged the battlefield to blow!
With a single press of a button, the Operative unleashed hell. The supports disappeared in simultaneous flashes of fire and shrapnel and all the cables that had once kept the mighty structure in place snapped like branches in a storm.
Cinder discarded her bow and turned around, jumping towards the nearest car. Behind her, Emerald grabbed Mercury and attempted to follow her. She had better hurry; the concrete floor of the large structure was now completely unsupported and already it was starting to crumble and break apart.
She leapt from the cart to a falling piece of debris, before quickly pushing off and hitting another one. Greystone had mounted a small lead in his escape of the death-trap that the bridge had become, frantically running across one of the falling cables while fending off an unseen attacker at the same time with his blade.
He was hallucinating! The strain of supporting a Catalyst must be even larger than she had fathomed. That meant its power was even greater as well.
Cinder smiled and leapt after the boy, stepping from stone to stone and dodging a ruined piece of car that came tumbling towards her. She wouldn't lose him now. She wouldn't let her prey escape so easily.
The safety of solid ground came closer and closer, but it was doubtful whether the carrier would make it. He stumbled wildly on several occasions and two times Cinder had to erupt a conflagration of fire his way to provide him with additional steps in his path to safety.
But he came closer and closer to the other side and eventually, with several meters spanning the wide chasm between him and safety, he made the jump.
Cinder smirked and leapt after him, knowing that Emerald would probably make the jump as well.
The child soldier only barely managed to hit his landing, slamming both of his hands against the broken concrete that had once marked the beginning of the bridge. As he slowly and frantically pulled himself up, swatting at something unseen with his knife -he seemed to have lost his blade in the escape- Cinder landed on the solid ground as well, several meters away from him.
She did not check to see if her associates had made it as well. Instead, she slowly walked towards him, her heart beating faster and faster with every step. She wanted to be strong. Stronger than the animals that had stolen her away from her previous life. Strong enough to get payback. She had been forced to directly transfer the Fall Maiden's strength to her new master. But this one…this one would be hers.
Cinder would have never thought that the little Operative in front of her would have ever held such power as a Catalyst. When she had seen the files that her contact had published across Remnant, she had been so surprised. Even with the full access she enjoyed when reading their files, she had not been able to figure out what this girl was.
But now she knew.
He lay on the ground, convulsing and grunting as if he were stuck in a different nightmare than the one he was currently facing. His legs kicking. His knife, gripped in a death grip, pointed right at his own chest. Would he kill himself given the chance? Had his delusion seeped that deep?
Cinder felt her temperature spiking as she approached his struggling form. The carrier of a power unknown even to her. A power she would possess, no matter what.
"Don't worry my dear," she spoke, almost whispered, when she reached for the glove. A lesser person might have seen his desperate attempts to skewer his heart with his own knife as unnerving, but not her. "I have you."
Not Cinder. There was definitely something that he was seeing right now. Something he was fighting. Be it the drug abuse or just a feverish delirium, she didn't care. What she cared for was her.
She effortlessly swatted the pathetic weapon from his grip and in that instant, all his struggles ceased. He went limp, and fixes his eyes on hers. Those empty, meaningless orbs of gray, occasionally sparkling with the essence of her soul. Rays of blue and green that shone through his soul. As if she was begging to be released.
She would have her, right this moment. She just needed to get rid of this empty shell of a boy that was keeping her imprisoned. For all of his power and prowess, he was worthless compared to what he carried inside him,
"In the end, all of Remnant was the same to you," Cinder said as she reached for her relic. She had been blessed with more than one of them and right now, she felt more blessed than ever. "They used you as a weapon. Used you, broke you and then cast you aside."
Cinder knelt next to him and donned the artifact that would allow her to take the girl's soul. Emerald limped towards her, carrying a wounded Mercury with her, but they were of no consequence now. Nothing was. Just her and the girl.
He would most likely not survive the transfer though. It was almost a waste of such a gifted attack dog. But dogs could be replaced, even extraordinaire ones like him. Neo had found one inside the Amity colosseum just recently.
"But I understand," Cinder whispered at the Catalyst, reaching for the side of the child soldier's face with the utmost care. She had rent his body enough. "And I will not waste this. You and I will do amazing things. You have my word."
The fallen soldier looked at her with wide eyes, like a child that had realized someone had betrayed it. Perhaps he did. Even when Cinder raised her glove and directed its malicious force at his face, he didn't take his eyes off of hers.
The lack of intimidation, though understood, was disconcerting. What went through his head now? Was he seeking comfort in the last thing he would see? The woman who would take his life, or the woman who would set him free of this cruel, twisted world?
In the end though, it mattered not. So Cinder allowed her Aura to flow through the device, channeling the vast power of her soul and will and rousing the entity that lay within. A black, corrosive web of corruption and darkness shot forth from the glove, striking the Operative in the face and establishing the connection.
At that very moment, she could see. She could reach out and touch. His soul, warped and stained by a life of warfare and pain, felt small and insignificant. It was a burnt-out and tattered husk. However, wrapped around it -utterly intertwined with it- was a corona of white, pure force that radiated such brightness that it was difficult to bear. A brightness that betrayed a power unlike she had ever felt before. A vast field surrounding that little, torn soul of his, inseparable, but not at all indistinguishable. His soul, and the Catalyst's.
Hers was not without damage either. Whereas the boy was filled with gaps and gashes and holes, the girl had one specific point of blemish. One malformed area in the center of her soul, in the very core of her being, that was tainted and twisted beyond repair. Blackened and stained, like the soul of a Grimm.
Cinder felt a well of pity when she saw it. How could something so pure and so stunning be so damaged? It possessed such raw, unkempt beauty, yet it was so damaged, so blemished. What deeds had been committed to do such a thing? Even the boy's soul was not as damaged as that horrible, marred sight.
A feeling like this was difficult to understand. Cinder existed between two worlds, one on the outside and one on the inside. She felt the rocks underneath her knee, the cold air brushing past her skin and hair. But she also saw the essence of the boy and the girl, what the innermost core of their souls were like. She could feel the raw power that her presence exuded, surpassing that of even the Fall Maiden.
Cinder broadened her view and reached for the power that lay before her, seizing it just as she had seized her former teammate. She banished the image of the horrible scars on the souls in front of her and focused on the bigger picture. The Catalyst.
Hers.
She wrenched.
'Oh, I don't think so.'
Cinder gasped when the voice echoed in her mind, stronger and clearer than possible.
Impossible.
The connection rippled as…something happened to it. The Catalyst's soul was fighting back. Fighting and winning within several heartbeats. It anchored their Aura in place and then forced Cinder back, away from the inner sanctum of their being and out into the world, where the limp Operative suddenly was not as limp anymore.
Impossible!
This was physically impossible! The sheer stress that this forgotten curse inflected on one's body and soul was enough to cripple everyone and everything.
Cinder Fall could only watch with increasing fury and disbelief as his left hand wrapped around the shadowy tendrils attached to his face, while his right tore the last remaining knife from his chest-straps and neatly severed the connection. Just as the Huntsman had, all that time ago.
"No!"
The feedback of the torn connection sent Cinder reeling and she staggered backwards, even as Mercury and Emerald dashed forwards, towards the rising soldier. The smoldering patches of skin where the black substance had attached to were rapidly repairing themselves before Cinder's very eyes. Burnt skin and damaged flesh knitted back together within seconds and by the time both Mercury as Emerald reached him, he had fully recovered.
They would clash and people would die. And the raw, uncontrolled power of the Catalyst would be lost.
"Stop!" She snapped, and her underlings obeyed.
Greystone did not. In a violent display of strength, he slammed Mercury against the floor with enough force to completely separate the prosthesis he had damaged before and Emerald jumped aside, only surviving the clash because she had one last burst of her Semblance remaining with which to fool the rampaging Operative.
Cinder forged herself another sword and swung it at him right when he came for her. His hand, cold and unyielding like an iron gauntlet, wrapped itself around her neck even as she placed the sharp edge of her blade against his throat.
His movement stopped, his features twisted into surprise and shock.
"Why?" He softly muttered.
Cinder stayed her hand, smiling. The Catalyst had stopped him.
She had won.
"She's too dangerous," he said. His arms were trembling. "I- no…"
The girl wanted her to live. That could only mean one thing. The connection had been two-way. A mutual peak at their heart and soul. This was…new.
"It is such a shame that even I can't set you free," Cinder said. "Not on my own."
"We don't need her help," Will snapped. His eyes widened and he gritted his teeth. "But –"
So it was like that. A change of plan? Possibly. Very intriguing however. "I think we might be able to help each other," she said, smiling at the display of duality. So even after that display of violence and madness, he still obeyed her? It seemed that the blonde wasn't his only master. "Most of Remnant is out to hunt you and kill you on sight. Everybody wants to hurt you."
Will's eyes met hers and he quickly looked away, as if afraid to keep the eye contact. He even let go of her neck, too. "I know that."
This had to be very confusing for the dazed Emerald. The master illusionist had no clue what was going on.
The Operative glared at her again. Oh if looks could kill. "Under one condition."
"What?" Cinder replied, somewhat annoyed. Was he going to keep meddling with what could become a good partnership?
"You don't lay a finger on them, or anyone else," he growled at her. "Ruby and Weiss, Blake and Yang, leave them out of this."
Cinder smiled. "That is a small group to want to protect. Are you not worried about the other students?"
He didn't reply. Of course he didn't. They both knew the answer to that.
She glanced away from the Operative for a moment, looking at Emerald. The girl was nervously fiddling with Mercury's severed leg, which to this day hadn't even been bent in combat yet. Well, if she played her cards right, she never had to worry about that again. "If you play along with me Will…I can help you set her free. They won't be able to keep her hidden from you."
"I'll do it," he reluctantly said. He was desperate. She could see it in his eyes. Even the most powerful wall would break when mauled long enough and he had reached his limit some time ago. Now, he was fighting on borrowed time.
"Good boy," she said, reaching out and touching his cheek. He flinched and seemed to shrink under her touch. "Let's keep in touch."
With that, she let him go. To remove an enemy was a success. But to turn him into an ally was a victory. "Come," she told Emerald, who nervously looked down on the unconscious Mercury. "Our transport is close."
The master thief shot a dirty look at the Operative, but she didn't speak her mind.
When Cinder reached the treeline, she looked over her shoulder to see if he was still where she had left him behind.
He was. He had sunk through his knees, burying his face in his hands. The realization that you were aroused by violence and killing wasn't a realization that left you unchanged. After he and the Catalyst had talked about how this could have laid dormant for the better part of a year, young Greystone would have a lot to explain to his lady friends.
Hmm…this was a victory on her part and a sure defeat on his. And she would put it to good use.