Chapter Ten: Germ Warfare

Two years (and a few months) ago

Viper sat on the windowsill, in their forest abode, one leg dangling out into emptiness. She was waiting for her master to return, boredom consuming her, when she saw it. It gave the impression of a floating crystal ball, glowing with an internal light, with tentacles dangling below. While less outwardly menacing than most Grimm, something about it made her hair stand on end. She raised a revolver, lining up the shot, when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She did not even need to turn to know who it was, and she looked to find her master giving her that grin of his.

"Peace, little one. The seer is a guest, not an enemy."

Viper took his word for it, as she always did, and followed him downstairs to greet their guest. Roy held open the door, and the seer passed into their halls. Viper could hear the ominous clicking sound it made as it floated past her. It followed Flagg to his dining room, where he sat at the table. Snapping his fingers, the servants rushed in to see to his breakfast, ignoring the Grimm entirely. She would later reflect that this was the true measure of his power, to make all else irrelevant, to ensure that they saw only him. The only reason he did not control her to the same extent was because it would interfere with her ability to rid him of his enemies. The seer bobbed to a stop beside Flagg's ornate chair, clicking more loudly.

"Hello to you, too, Salem."

Dismissive clicking.

"Honestly, I don't think a little polite courtesy is too much to ask."

Angry clicking.

"Don't snap at me just because things didn't go the way you wanted with Autumn. I have told you, time and again, your operations are no concern of mine. If I wanted a petulant child whining at me about every little thing, I could just sire one. Now, is there anything you actually want, or did you just call to bitch about your personal problems?"

A pause. Then, a long stream of more composed clicks.

"Yes, of course. I'll have one of my people look into it."

The seer resumed its normal clicking pattern and floated out of the room.

Flagg looked up at Viper, who had been standing in the corner. "You have questions."

"Only if you wish to provide answers."

Flagg waved dismissively. "That was just an ambitious child, looking to move up in the world. However, she did ask a favor of me, and I would like you to see it done."

"Your wish is my desire, my master."

It was raining when Viper strode into that little town. Hidden in a canyon, out in the deserts of Menagerie, the town was little more than a few ramshackle prefabs, but the people there seemed content, thriving in their little community. She felt the weight of the thing in her pocket weighing her down, literally and metaphorically, making her footfalls feel leaden. She had killed more people than this before, of course, but never in one go. The thing in her pocket strained against the container that sealed it, raging to get out, to fulfill its intended purpose. She walked stiffly, towards the center of town, and it surprised her how little they took notice of her. Shouldn't they be wary? Shouldn't they suspect every person who entered their little town? How could they ever expect to hold this place if they were so complacent, so happy. She wanted to scream, to demand that someone notice her, that someone stop her, but the mere thought of her master kept her to her course.

She came at last to the center of town, and began to reach down towards her pocket, when she felt claws at her throat. Talons might have been the better word, though, judging from the curvature. Some sort of predatory bird faunus, then. Shorter than her, male if the musculature pressing against her back was anything to go by. She needed to surprise him, not give him time to secure his grip. She swung her foot backwards, catching him between the legs, falling forward to flip him over her. She made a mistake, though, forgetting to account for where his claws would go after they left her throat. Pain exploded in her brain as two talons dug into the right side of her face, their owner's momentum ensuring that they tore upwards, slashing through the delicate flesh, destroying her eye in the process. And oh, did she scream then. A primal, senseless shriek, rage and pain all mixed in one. All qualms lost in the pain, she yanked out the object in her pocket, a vial no larger than her middle finger, and shattered it in her hand. A cloud of blood red fog exploded out of the shattered vial, engulfing the entire town in mere moments. Viper could feel her throat and eyes burning as the gas invaded her body, and could feel it tugging at her aura. Luckily, Flagg had inoculated her against this particular horror, and the cloud receded, leaving her without lasting damage.

Coughing, she looked around. The first thing she saw, as the cloud dispersed, was the bird faunus that had attacked her, seemingly covered in a black, ash-like substance. She stood, her face wracked with pain, and approached the boy. Upon closer examination, the ash did not cover him, rather his entire body had turned to ash. Now she understood what Flagg had said about this weapon. It attacked soul of any it came in contact with, igniting their aura, burning them from the inside out. Even as she watched, the corpse broke down, becoming little more than dust in the wind. She looked in a house, finding a young man holding a baby, another man holding the two of them in his arms. These three, as well, had burned. She knew that all the others in the town had shared his fate, and she sat down on the ground, doing something she hadn't done in a very long time. Hours later, she stood and made her way back.

When she got back, Flagg praised her accomplishment, but the empty space in her vision seemed to confront her with the faces of everyone she had ever killed. His honeyed words, so long the only light in her world, fell flat. Perhaps it was the magnitude of her sins, perhaps it was her soul being seared, but his charisma just didn't seem to reach her anymore.

That night, without a backward glance, she walked away from that house, and began to wander. She knew not what she was trying to find, where she was trying to go, only that the ghosts of her pasts were at her heels and would not allow her to stop moving. A few days in, the withdrawal had set in, and she had spent the rest of the time bartering away what little she owned to support her addiction. She had always had as much dust as she could want, so she had never realized how deeply the need ran. That brought them back to that day in the rain.

"And that's about it," Viper said with finality.

"Well?" Rin inquired looking toward Oberon. Viper followed her gaze, turning to focus on the black clad lad.

He had hitherto been standing quietly in the corner, listening to the story, but now he stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, a common pose for him. He regarded the older woman with intensity. She had done terrible things, true enough, but he had done worse. Everyone had ghosts. Besides, she reminded him of a certain pair of unkempt bird-brains, and a certain golden-eyed cat he had met many years ago. "We cannot offer redemption," he said at last. "We cannot guarantee that you will not have to do any bad things from here on out. But we can promise that your choices from here on out will be your own. And the first choice you need to make is this; either you can stay here, keep the clothes, and be right back where you started, or," he reached out a hand, "you can keep moving forward." Viper bit her lip, razor teeth drawing blood, then nodded, reaching to grab Oberon's hand.