Chapter 20

The Brighter Future Society, or as Harry called it, the Chicago Alliance Headquarters, had been built atop his old apartment by John Marcone. It was a building about four stories high and built of stone. Its windows were nine inches wide and deep, with bars of steel on the inside and outside. The roof was lined with crenellation and gargoyles perched along each row, starting on the second floor. The building was a modern day castle, a fortress in the middle of Chicago.

Pyrrha had never felt so at home. While the buildings in Beacon were made of a more modern material, those of her home at Mistral were more often made of stone. The threat of Grimm attacks made investing in better materials a waste of time and resources, when all they needed was in the land they lived on.

There was also the other added bonus of the Headquarters. It had several training rooms, and many men willing to spar with her. Murphy had informed her that those men were 'Warriors of Valhalla' or 'Einherjar', ancient warriors and soldiers who resurrected upon death to fight for all of eternity. Most of them were incredibly ancient, older than most of the modern nations on Earth and with enough combat experience to take on any army and come out on top.

So four on one was about fair odds, Pyrrha figured.

While the redhead turned Marcones most elite soldiers into pretzels, Murphy and the Alphas were gathered at the far wall, watching the fight. They had rendezvoused ten minutes earlier, and both had a Blackstone to show for their efforts, securely locked away in the back of William and Georgia's van. Surprisingly, they stones had been almost completely dormant when they found them, making their assignments a quick hit and run. It was only traditional then, that Harry was the tardy one.

So while they waited for the wizard, the small assembly of companions enjoyed the show and exchanged small talk while seated around the boxing ring.

"So, since Pyrrha's out of earshot," Andi said, "We are all aware her outfit is something a stripper might wear, right?"

"Oh yeah, totally."

"Completely inappropriate."

"Who would even come up with something like that?"

Murphy shrugged her shoulders and kept her eyes on the match. It was a bare fisted match, and at Pyrrha's own insistence, not the Einherjar's, she had left her boots neatly arranged at the base of the ring. With no aura, she didn't want to hurt anyone, despite the Warriors insistence that they'd be fine.

Truth was, even without them, the Einherjar didn't stand a chance. Murphy smiled as Pyrrha twisted around one of the warriors and kicked his legs out from under him so fast that he appeared to be moving still by comparison.

"I've seen worse." Murphy finally said.

The Alphas and Butters glanced at her and she smirked, "Ex-cop, remember? I've seen some wild outfits out there, on people a lot younger than her. Hell, Molly used to dress worse than that. And we all remember how Maeve dressed."

That was a fairly good point they could agree on. Butters nodded, "Right, it's not that out there, just impractical for combat gear."

"Especially with how her top opens up like a stage production of 'Cleavage: Presented by Pyrrha Nikos'." Andi added.

There was a yelp, and one of the Einherjar went soaring out of the ring and landed at the group's feet with a solid crash. They all froze and looked up at Pyrrha, who was smiling sweetly at them, "I'm sparring, my friends. Not deaf."

Another warrior snuck up behind her her. Pyrrha hit him with the back of her fist without even looking, knocking him flat on his back with the rest of his fallen bretheren.. The Alpha's and Butters had the decency to look embarrassed at being caught discussing the young woman.

"Time!" the spar referee announced. "Match goes to Pyrrha, 7-0!"

At that, the Warriors of Valhalla did something unexpected. They began to laugh, hearty belly laughs that filled the air with a giddy energy, laughs that only men of war could truly muster. The Einherjar peeled themselves off the floor and crowded around the young red head.

"This one, this one will grow into a fine warrior!" One of them declared, clapping Pyrrha on the back.

She was by no means a small or weak girl, but the Einherjar were men that tipped closer to seven feet tall and had skin stretched tight with muscle. She almost stumbled under the friendly gesture, but grinned with them.

"We'll have to use weapons another time, then I can show you what I can really do."

"Haha! That would be a show!" another warrior declared, "We look forward to it!"

"Yes!"

One of the Einherjar, a man whose ancestry probably contained a rhinoceros in it, was more serious. "You're very strong Ms. Pyrrha, I'll give you that much, and a natural prodigy. I've met very few warriors as naturally gifted to combat as you."

Pyrrha felt the heat in her cheeks rise, "Oh, well Skaldi, I-"

He raised a giant hand, "You didn't let me finish. You're a prodigy, and in a few years, you'll be one of the greatest living mortal warriors out there, especially with your abilities. But only if you learn to stop charging into every fight you find."

That made her blink, "Pardon?"

Skaldi thumped her head, "Think girl! Every warrior loves a good scrap, you're no different. But even the greatest warriors need to take a break. You keep pushing yourself, eventually you'll break, if you can't find a balance between fighting, and relaxing."

"Good advice, Skaldi Skjeldson," Murphy said, leaning on the ropes around the ring. "You going to lecture her on who she should start dating, and what she should wear?"

The Warriors of Valhalla snickered, and Skaldi smirked, "I believe you've covered that last one already, Karrin Murphy."

"Fair point. You done hazing my girl?"

"Oh ho ho," Skaldi laughed, "Your girl? I didn't realize we were fighting over her."

Murphy's eyes sparked with mischief, "I saw her first, get in line."

Pyrrha got between the two, visibly smiling, and said, "I believe we all have our own points. For example, a break would indeed be nice."

A smile spread over her lips, "Besides, I wouldn't want to bruise your pride any further, now would I?"

The Warriors of Valhalla burst into hearty laughter again, and began to disperse. Skaldi remained, giving Murphy a more critical look, "I've still got fight in me, girly. How about we go a round or two, see how that Physical Therapy has been working for you?"

Murphy's smile faded and she looked at her arm. She flexed it and her mouth set itself in a thin line, "I'll pass today. But thanks for the offer Skaldi."

"You can't put it off forever," he warned her, and walked off to cavort with his companions.

Pyrrha ducked under the ropes and gave Murphy a quizzical look, "Physical Therapy? What happened?"

She'd noticed that Murphy's left arm was a bit limp, and that she had a slight limp in her stride, but Murphy had handled herself fine otherwise. Pyrrha felt a little guilty that her own personal issues had made her blind to the obvious, and that Murphy had been fighting for her when she should've been taking time to recover.

Murphy sighed, "Bad situation that got worse. I paid for it, but don't worry about it, I'm fine."

"Murphy, if you're still recovering-" Pyrrha started, and slowly stopped when Murphy narrowed her eyes into a venomous glare.

"If you finish that sentence, Ms. Nikos, we'll throw down here and now. I can handle myself, got it?"

"...Yes ma'am."

Murphy smiled sweetly, "Good girl. Now put your shoes back on and we'll pick up some grub."

Pyrrha did as she was told, smiling the whole time. While she slipped her armored boots back on, a familiar woman entered the training room. Gard entered, all business. Her attire had not changed, though her expression was slightly less stone faced. This of course, would be akin to comparing a tiger to a lion. A slight but semantic difference.

"Heads up," William warned Murphy.

She looked over at Gard, and got up to meet the valkyrie, "Gard, didn't expect to see you here."

Gard grunted, "You're wanted in the infirmary. Dresden and the vampire have returned."

Pyrrha stood up, "Infirmary? Is Harry alright?"

The others chuckled and she looked at them confused, "What?"

"He's probably fine," Murphy explained. "It's just, you spend enough time around us, you'll eventually see that this is the norm for Harry. If he doesn't get himself beaten half-to-hell while investigating a case, then something's gone horribly wrong."

That made Pyrrha frown. They seemed awfully casual about Harry being injured. Of course, it made sense. The people in this world had no Aura, any combat would be likely to result in injuries of some kind. That was an idea that chilled Pyrrha to the core. Aura was a fundamental part of her world, and on Earth it just… wasn't. It was so odd and almost felt wrong…

"You're sure he's okay?" Pyrrha asked.

Murphy sighed, "Well, we'll see what the dunderhead did to himself this time. But odds are, yeah, he's fine. Come on."

Butters grabbed the bag holding the Blackstones, and their group marched out of the gym to the infirmary. It wasn't the longest walk, but it gave Pyrrha time to notice the slight limp in Murphy's step. Had she always limped like that and Pyrrha had just been too caught up in her own issues? Or was it a more recent development, a result of the hectic atmosphere of the past day or two?

Pyrrha felt a pang of guilt at that. It was very possible that her rampage, brought on by Roman's little glamour spell, might've been what injured Murphy. The woman was putting on a brave face around Pyrrha, but the irritation was obvious now. If Murphy stepped wrong, she winced for a fraction of a second, and the limp became more pronounced. But she kept ahead of them all anyway, despite it.

That was impressive for the sheer determination, and equally as frustrating. Pyrrha walked up next to her and said, voice quiet, "Murphy, you don't have to push yourself that hard around us. We'd understand if you needed to slow down."

Murphy kept walking, and didn't look at Pyrrha when she spoke, "I could say the same to you, Pyrrha. Tell you what, I'll slow down if you're willing to sit down and have a nice long chat about how that whole Fall Maiden business has been eating at the back of your skull since you found out about it."

The pit returned to her stomach. Pyrrha swallowed and let out a shaky breath, "I… understand your point, Murphy. Sorry."

Murphy grunted and the rest of the walk was silent, and mercifully short. They reached the infirmary where Thomas and Harry were held up. It was surprisingly sparse, with no electronic equipment in sight. Pyrrha saw shelves and cupboards that probably held medical supplies, but no real tech of any kind. How far behind was Earth compared to Remnant?

Harry was seated on an exam table, one leg up and the pant leg cut away. A medical professional, Pyrrha wasn't sure if Marcone would employ legal doctors, tended to what appeared to be a shallow stab wound on his thigh. Thomas was seated nearby, seemingly unharmed.

"Your companions, Dresden," Gard grunted.

Harry looked up at them, and Pyrrha held back a gasp, "Oh my… Harry, what happened to you?"

To say that Harry looked like shit, was an insult to shit. His face was a rainbow of colors splashed over a beaten and torn canvas. His left eye was swollen shut and several stitches lined the socket. He looked like someone had beaten him over the head with a baseball bat.

Harry grunted, "Nice to see you again too, Pyrrha." he looked down, "How much longer you gonna work on me, doc?"

The 'doctor' stood up and glared at Harry, "As much as I need to. I'd suggest a day or two of bed rest, but Marcone has informed me of your 'habits'. So I'll simply warn you not to strain your leg, and to take the antibiotics I've prescribed you."

Harry nodded, "Noted. Thanks."

The man just grunted and walked off. Gard escorted him out of the room and waited by the exit, arms folded, face unreadable. Once the doctor was gone, Harry's face grew more serious.

"Pyrrha, we ran into some new Grimm. You're the expert, I need you to ID them for me."

The girl was already looking through her Scroll before Harry had finished his sentence, "On it, what did you see?"

"Bigger, tougher, and smarter versions of the wolves we fought at UC, and one big bastard with a mean left hook."

"Looked like a giant armored gorilla" Thomas piped in.

Pyrrha froze and looked up at Harry, her eyes wide, "That… shouldn't be possible."

"Oh no, she said the words…" Butters groaned.

Harry leaned forward, "Pyrrha, what did we run into?"

Instead of telling him, Pyrrha showed them. Her scroll projected a rough image on the wall, a sketch of a large bipedal Grimm. Its arms hung close to the floor and its legs were short and powerful. The sketch accurately captured the menace and and danger that this creature projected.

Everyone stared at the picture. Harry nodded, "Yeah, that's we ran into alright. No fancy light show for this one?"

Pyrrha folded her Scroll away, and said, "No. Harry, what you ran into is called a Beringel. And the last one was seen over half-a-century ago. Far as anyone knew, they had died out, wiped out by the Brothers Grimm, along with the Geists and Manticores. Though there have been sightings of the former again…"

"Pyrrha, hold on," Harry signed for time-out, "What are you talking about? We don't have any context here."

"Right, I'm sorry." Pyrrha apologized and took a breath. "The Beringel are very powerful Grimm. They are, in general, smarter, stronger, and faster than the average Grimm. Whenever they appeared, according to history books, a single Beringel in the right place could wipe out an entire town on its own. The fact that you survived, let alone defeat one is...incredible."

Harry scratched at the back of his head. Murphy eyed him, "You did kill it, right Harry?"

"Er...technically? It's not around anymore at least."

Pyrrha almost dropped her phone, "What happened? Where is it?"

"Vanished, after I destroyed the Blackstone." Harry said. "I watched it literally fade away afterwards. So it's not an issue anymore."

Despite herself, Pyrrha let out a sigh of relief, "Well good then. I'd hate to imagine how much unnecessary damage a fight with that would cause."

Murphy glanced at Harry. He stuck his tongue out at her in response.

"So, question," William said. "If we have to fight these things again, how would we do that? Or would it be better to try and call in these 'Brothers Grimm' guys?"

Pyrrha shook her head, "The latter would be pointless. The Brothers Grimm disbanded decades ago. They weren't built to survive the world after the Great War. As for how to fight one… I seem to recall that fire tends to anger them, and that the only real way to put one down is to remove its head. I'd need to see one in action before I could develop a real strategy."

"I shot it in the head a couple times," Thomas said. "Just made it angrier."

"No offense, but it would take more than a pistol to seriously injure a Grimm that powerful." Pyrrha sighed, "I imagine my friend Ruby would make short work of one of those monsters…"

The girl may not be the most skilled of Pyrrha's friends, but her weapon and fighting style would probably be quite effective against a Beringel, especially the built in sniper rifle. Until she found a way to contact her friends though, that was just a pipe dream.

Harry eased himself down from the table, testing his leg. Satisfied, he settled his weight on it and grabbed his staff, "We're on our own until then though. How'd your own investigations go? Find anything?"

Butters held up the duffel bag, "Found something at both locations. No sign of Grimm though."

Harry frowned as Butters handed him the bag, "That's typical. Guess I'll keep these locked up with the other one for now. Once my informant shows up, we'll have an idea of what our next move should be. That just leaves one more problem…"

"You traitorous bag of dicks!"

Everyone stopped, and swiveled towards the infirmary door, where a familiar voice was cursing up a storm. Hendricks walked into view, with an escort of three armed men pushing an asylum dolly down the hall. Roman Torchwick was strapped to it with large steel bindings that he strained against with all of his might. A piece of duct tape had been slapped over his mouth, but he'd chewed a hole through it, that he was now using to hurl obscenities at Hendricks.

"...When did Hendricks find Torchwick?" Murphy asked. Gard visibly stiffened and cast a quick glance out the door. When she turned back around, there was a faint upturn at the edge of her lips.

Harry sighed and tried not to touch the bruises on his face, "Torchwick ambushed us outside of Zero, that's where I got this lovely mosaic from. He nailed me with his cane, and stabbed my leg. Then he was going to sell me on Ebay. Marcone, apparently, had Hendricks working for Torchwick to keep an eye on him. Now they're going to lock him up until Marcone decides to get whatever information he wants out of him."

"...Didn't someone already try to sell you on Ebay?" Butters asked.

He never got his answer. Pyrrha suddenly stormed forward out of the room before Harry could provide one. Every piece of metal in the room swayed in her direction, and lights flickered. Murphy cursed, and ran after Pyrrha with the others in tow. This was not the time for angry vengeance!

Pyrrha quickly caught up to the dolly and planted herself in front of them. They stopped, and Hendricks looked at Pyrrha blankly. She smiled a not so sweet smile and said, "I'd just like a moment to talk to Mr. Torchwick, if it's not too much trouble."

Hendricks beady blue eyes gave Pyrrha the once over, taking in her… unique, fashion sense, and apparently deemed her worthy. He shrugged and motioned at the rest of the escort. Their weapons lowered; Pyrrha hadn't even seen them lift them.

She nodded her thanks, and focused on Roman. To his credit, he didn't look absolutely terrified. He simply wore a resigned expression and sighed, "Oh poop."

Pyrrha took a step forward and spoke in a calm, even tone, "Mr. Torchwick. I hope you're aware of what you did last time we met."

"Glamour charm, meant to trick you into ignoring me." Roman said, deadpan. "Useful, gotten me out of a few tight situations before. Expensive as hell though."

Her mouth set into a line, and she took a deep breath, "You tricked me into attacking my friends. Made me see things that...infuriate me, just thinking about it. You hurt me, and more importantly, you made me hurt my friends."

She pressed a finger on one of the bindings. It visibly bent under her touch. "And now you've hurt them again. I don't believe what you say, about me being a murderer, but do this again, Mr. Torchwick, and, well…"

With no effort, she lifted him and the dolly by the lock on his chest with one hand, "I'll seriously consider in justifying your accusations. Do we understand each other?"

Roman's face was exceptionally pale when he nodded yes. Pyrrha smiled and set him back down with an audible thud. Her Semblance had held the entire dolly together, but the device was slightly uneven now. It leaned precariously to one side, much to Roman's dismay.

Pyrrha left Hendricks and his men to handle Torchwick, her stride faltering for but a moment before her confidence seemed to return, while her smile faded. She intercepted a dumbfounded Team Dresden a moment later. The looks on their faces were… enlightening.

She let out a shaky breath and ducked her head, "When is that informant meeting with us again?"

A/N: Ultimately a shorter chapter than I was planning. However, given my plans for the next chapter, it would've dragged for too long if I'd gone through with it. Next one should be a bit longer, with more plot stuff happening. Also, Toot-toot is coming... and maybe, just maybe, a certain, perverted skull?

Anyway, I'm not sure when the next post will be. Probably next Saturday, as I've got studying/college stuff to do, you know 'fun' stuff. Once that's out of the way, I'll really dive back in again. Otherwise, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, lemme know what you thought! Bye!