Blake stared at the underside of Yang's bed in the darkness. This was her first night back in the school after being kept out at Summer Memorial. Though her injuries weren't that severe, they wanted to keep an eye on her while they routed out the White Fang members who were still lurking within the kingdom. Since Ruby was already being watched there, they just decided to keep her in as well. Both were back home now – well, home away from home.
She sighed, catching sight of the curtains blowing in with a small breeze. The glass hadn't been replaced yet, so the bare ribs were the only thing left to stand against the wind. As sturdy as they were, they weren't able to keep anything out. She hummed in displeasure, wincing a little. Her throat was still sore, but overall was better. Her voice was approaching a normal volume again, though she hadn't particularly felt like talking much anyway. Her mind had been preoccupied with other things.
A part of her was very conflicted about her situation. She was alive, having little worse than a rough haircut and a sore throat. However, people had died – many people. The attack had been their largest to date, the end result placing Vale in a state of emergency. Firestorms had raged through some districts as various IEDs and Molotovs were thrown with reckless abandon, wrecking some of the infrastructure. Much of the affected buildings were only put out by collapsing during the aurora's firing. They were still digging out bodies with mechs and androids to rack up the full body count. Junior's club had become a huge attraction because many of those who survived did so thanks to his thugs' intervention. They were rebuilding, slowly but surely. It would take a lot of time, and a lot of money, and even then there was so much that could never be redeemed. And here's the kicker: it was all her fault, as far as she could tell. She hated that, hated herself. It was all her fault, and all she'd done was run until she'd been saved – by Adam of all people!
And that was another thing. She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the tunnel. Sun had explained how Adam had told him where to find her, how he must have been the one to save her. Jack had later visited Summer Memorial, telling them how the way her weapon and ribbon had been laid out in conjunction with the White Fang's retreat chatter lead them to believe he faked her death. That he must have been a spy working against them. Scott and Adam, it seemed, were the heroes of that day. Junior wouldn't say for certain – something about customer confidentiality – but Scott had likely allowed them to prepare for the White Fang. Adam got the intel, Scott set up the resistance. But why? For her? She thought it absurd at first, but was it? This entire attack was for her. Could she have really caused Adam to turn his back on the White Fang? On their father? And why?! What was this all about?! They still didn't know what made her so important to them. She didn't know anything, hadn't taken anything when she left… she was as baffled as everyone else. What on Remnant was going on?
She didn't know, but she felt Adam did. If they could find him, they could find answers. However, he hadn't shown up in their search as of yet, and she feared he'd made his way out of the kingdom already. Though she suspected some of the ways, she couldn't be sure. It had been a few years, and if he was no longer a part of the White Fang, he could have escaped any number of ways she was unfamiliar with. She knew the countryside outside of Vales walls well enough, but there were many miles of territory he could be hiding in. She tried to think like him, tried to imagine what he did. However, she found herself thinking back on all their time together. With everything so crazy, she found it funny how the two had even met. It was what for many would have been a chance encounter that would lead to nothing – two paths that would never cross again. But for them, that one little moment had become one of the greatest of her life.
Over a decade ago...
Adam walked the streets aimlessly. Here in Rakuen, what they called the Greatest City to Vale's Richest, they formed a three dimensional web of roads, alleys, and bridges. Tons of stone built up into the sky, the highest building reaching further than any other on Remnant. Babel, it was called – a superstructure from the mesh of the city itself that housed the government, Shizines, a battle school, as well as several other important organizations and the homes of all that were a part of them. It could be seen for miles, the green lights glowing high within it shining into the distance. Despite living so close to it, Adam rarely saw the tower beyond the interwoven layers of the city above the dirt he now walked. It was like an entirely different city down here. Here every bit of trash from above stops its fall – whether as an object or a person. The dirt he walked over was compost from years of neglect – beneath it laid stone roads and walkways that hadn't seen the light of day for decades, if not centuries. As more people moved to this kingdom long ago, the rich and wealthy had literally moved upward into the skies, leaving them here to rot like the trash beneath his toes. Those without jobs, money, or futures wandered here. At this ground level, no one really cared anymore.
Admittedly, he didn't quite live here, but the first few levels or so above this were little better. Down here was just the best place to look for salvage or food. Many who had small farms sold extra from little stalls down here for money or bartered goods – and for some, services. He passed a transaction like that a moment ago, the gags echoing in his head. Though the growl of hunger occasionally troubled him, he wasn't desperate enough to consider something like that. Honestly, he'd rather die, despite knowing a few of the stall owners would be more than welcome to give a good amount of salvage or food for such a thing. Regardless of his situation, he maintained a level of self-respect, of honor. That was something his father always made sure of. Even without a lot of money, their family had made sure to keep their dignity intact. That had been awhile ago, now, however – things had gone south ever since a small anti-faunus lynch mob had made their way through the second level where he lived.
Like now, his dad had been away at a White Fang event, leaving Adam with his mother. He barely remembered it, but his mother had gone out to get food just as he was now. She'd been close enough to home that he heard her screams when they got her, but by the time he'd managed to get out, all that was left was the torn up sack she'd kept for carrying things. Probably for the best, he knew now, as they wouldn't have treated a toddler any different. His dad had begun to go on more jobs for the White Fang then, leaving Adam with neighbors most of the time. More time away meant a less consistent stream of food or money as his mom had done the bulk of the scavenging and his dad the bartering – he was a large guy and tended to get things a bit closer to what they were actually worth.
He stopped as he came to one of the many squares that littered the lower level, watching the makeshift bazaar that stood over what was once a large street intersection. This was where he'd trade whatever he'd found – if he'd found anything. Unfortunately, it seemed he'd likely have to try his hand at theft again, though his dad was always angry when he found out. He shrugged it off – he was following the old man's advice anyway. Take what you want, because no one's going to give it to you. His stomach growled as though in agreement with the young boy. In this instance, his honor could be damned. Scanning the booths, he saw an orchardist who had a small apple orchard on the edge of the city. Between the old man's many trees and his daughters who searched for discarded cores and other waste to make compost, he'd managed to keep a consistent growth of apples in the city's microclimate. Nearby were ramps to the upper level, one he knew being in the alley behind their stall and another a short distance away. He would travel through there and sneak up from the alley. He walked up, the dirty old steps giving way to glimpses of clean steel as he traveled higher. One level made a considerable difference, the roads and walkways being visible through a much thinner layer of grime. In time, he was sure, even this level would be that bad. Some old people said the ground level was actually an upper level that the filth had built up to over the years but Adam's father had told him that wasn't true. Though some buildings traveled deeper and there seemed to be occasional paths into the ground, they were just subterranean parts of the city that had always been beneath the dirt.
As he wandered lower, he thought about his father's other value. He wondered if his dad took it too far sometimes. He remembered arguments between him and his mom over it that, at the time, went over his head. As he'd gotten a few years older, he'd asked about what their arguments had been about. His dad had told him how he refused charity, including from fellow members of the White Fang, in favor of earning his own way in life. It was why, despite some of his nice clothes, weapon, and trips across Remnant, they lived in the slums where his father had grown up. He'd accepted those because they were necessary for his participation in the White Fang, but he wouldn't take anything more – gifts, money, even housing had all been offered. That was the importance of honor, supposedly. To not allow yourself to cheat life when so many others could not – to only take what was earned, and only then when it was needed. His position in the White Fang would allow him to give all faunus a good life – or so he'd told Adam – and he'd only taken some of the gifts to further that goal. Everything else was unnecessary, so for now they remained in the slums. Part of him found such a resolve ridiculous and part of him found it awe-inspiring. But even so, Adam thought as remembered his father accepting a neighbor's invitation to dinner, "a man's got to eat."
He crept forward, scanning ahead. He'd just come down into the alleyway, hoping to remain unnoticed. It wasn't empty, but that wouldn't matter. No one cared down here – as long as the old man or one of the daughters didn't catch him, he'd escape scot-free. He edged up toward the front of the alley, staying low and in the shadows while he watched the family. His stomach audibly growled at the sight of the apples – how they managed to grow them so perfectly down here may as well be witchcraft. Come to think of it, it may be – he didn't know if anything had their aura's unlocked like the faunus. It would explain the apples' large size, bright red color, and delicious juiciness; not to mention that they seemed to never run out. They were ridiculously expensive (for the slums, anyway), but there was no shortage of people willing to give up what they had for one.
A shiver ran up his spine and he felt a tug on his shirt. Startled, he looked to find a little girl next to him, covered in dirt with little better than rags over her. Despite that, her mouth was clean and her yellow eyes shone brightly in the gloom – he noticed the flicking little ears atop her head. A cat faunus. She tugged again, trying to pull him away with some quiet mews. He shook her off, telling her to leave him alone. She frowned, trying again with harder tugs and more frantic mews as she rubbed her stomach.
"Shush it down! Shoo, I'm busy, don't you understand?" he said, hushing her and pushing her away frantically. She was going to give him away. He watched as she fell on her behind, glaring up at him. Then she got up and ran off toward an old garage nearby. He couldn't see where she went, but some boxes and knickknacks suggested that it was where she lived. Must be homeless, he thought. Then, more grimly, her parents were probably killed like Mom. She probably wanted something to eat. He looked back at the stall. He couldn't help her with that at the moment.
He resumed his watch, but was quickly interrupted by another tug. It startled him as it did the first time, and he proceeded to give the little girl a glare. How did she sneak up on him like that? "What's wrong wi-" he began as he noticed what she had. Two of the large apples were barely contained within one of her arm's grasp, though he noticed they were a bit dull and covered with bruises. She rubbed her stomach with a cute growl and proffered them to him. He blinked in confusion. Was she… giving them to him?
"For me..?" he said slowly, pointing. She nodded, the glare from earlier only just now turning to a smile. He slowly took them, not quite believing what was happening. It had to be a trick, right? Maybe she'd stolen them and someone was looking for the apples. As soon as he walked away he'd get beaten for them while she got away. A part of him found that didn't make sense. Okay, maybe that didn't work, but what else could it be? "What about you?" he asked slowly. She mewed again, running to her garage with a wave. He warily followed her, finding a bunch of old cores and a third apple with a few bites taken out already. He smirked. He looked over at the stall as he remembered how he hadn't noticed her as he walked past or as she'd come up to him. Sly little girl, she was – another pick pocketing street urchin.
"Thank you," he said, the words sounding weird to him. She nodded as she picked up her apple and sat down. He walked back toward the stairs to head home, taking a bite himself. He relished the juice in his dry mouth, savoring its sweet taste. As he started to climb the steps, he looked back. The youngest daughter of the orchardist was next to the little cat faunus, scratching her head as she handed her another apple. She'd been giving away apples, then – and for awhile if some of the cores were anything to judge by. The revelation was even more perplexing than what had just happened. Why? Why was she helping the little girl – a faunus, at that? What did she get out of it? He shook his head and turned toward the next level. He'd disregard that for now – his dad should be back later today and he wanted to be home when he came. He could think about the little kitten later.
Present Day
Adam thought about that chance encounter now as he looked down at the red haze of Forever Fall. He eyed the motes of fog that curled in unseen currents, not really processing the information. What he really saw was years ago, in another kingdom thousands of miles away. Red vision, anger, and bloodlust brought about an irritation in his aura. The skin around his eyes literally crawled as he remembered the rush of that still body, the fleeting feeling of triumph before the dreadful realization of what he'd done.
He shook his head violently, breaking himself from his reverie. He looked at the time, gritting his teeth in response. He was late. What could be the cause of that? Something going wrong was the last thing he needed right now. He and Scott had managed to stop the White Fang's attempt at assassinating Blake – though apparently capture had still been an option – by infiltrating the city, but that was only one job they'd had running. His soldiers had still been here, attempting to gather resources and information from Vale. Elsewhere, his other partner had been leading a small strike on a White Fang operation out in the mountains to the east. A mission he was supposed to have returned from nearly an hour ago.
You really shouldn't get so stressed with your condition. Relax a little, he heard in Scott's voice. He gave Adam that advice all the time, but wasn't here just now. The man was taking his nightly patrols throughout the area, securing the perimeter. With being gone for so long and the VPD and IRS on the lookout, he'd been taking the security checks very seriously. It was odd, really, that someone so otherwise care free could be so meticulous and studious about anything. Adam knew he wasn't too great when it came to reading people anyway, however. At this point, he accepted the man's many weird quirks. There was a time that hadn't been true – in fact, the first few times they'd met he'd tried to kill him because he was a human. Funny, that – he had been part of the White Fang to fight for equality, yet had been a racist himself.
Scott wouldn't have been the first either. Oh no, he'd have been one of many humans Wilt would have sliced through or that Blush would have blown a hole in. Some had even fallen by his bare hands. The first, so long ago now, was who he'd just been thinking about. A of couple weeks had passed and he'd been checking up with the little kitten every now and again while on his scavenging runs. What happened that day would start everything.
It was much later in the day than usual; he'd actually gotten a pretty decent haul and had taken awhile to sell as much as he could before people closed down for the day. Even so, he went to check on the little girl. It had been a little longer since his last visit, and he'd kind of enjoyed being around something so… full of life. She didn't talk – not well, anyway – but he could tell she was otherwise very curious and smart for a homeless orphan. She'd always have some new trinket or toy someone had given her or she'd found to show off, and sometimes he kept stuff for her himself. Just now, he had had some hot pastries and a broken scroll that still seemed to have a bit of juice left in it. She'd eaten one immediately, the sweet earning him a hug that he'd awkwardly wiggled out of in embarrassment. She'd then been preoccupied with the scroll for a time, so he'd decided to head home while she was distracted. His stomach growled from the scent wafting from the last of the pastries hidden in the bottom of a sack beneath the money and other food. He buried it to keep the smell from seeping out too much – people did crazy things for a hot meal down here. That one, however, was for his dad. Adam had eaten his two before even visiting the small faunus.
A scream echoed through the alleys, his bull ears flicking at the sound. It was from behind him somewhere, but the echoes kept him from being certain. At first he barely paused to consider it, despite the youthfulness of its tone. However, a second, more sob filled one had him stop as it was brutally cut off. Was that...?
He turned around and started running. Could it be the little girl? He found the stairs down to the now familiar alley, skidding to a halt at the scene just before him. Three older boys were gathered her over her, a thin sheet metal barrier behind her showing a large dent. They'd hit her into it, winding her so she couldn't scream. The middle one, having red hair, held the same hot pastry he'd just left with her, accusing her of being a "filthy thieving animal." This was his fault – how else would a little homeless girl get something like that? He'd thought the same thing with her apples. No one was going to help her down here; besides, he recognized these boys. The middle's dad was part of the police, a dirty cop who had his fingers in the drug trade through here – as well as some of the anti-faunus meetings.
He knew he should leave her. He knew he shouldn't stick his neck out for her. But what he knew didn't matter. They would beat her until she stopped moving, and whether she was already dead or not, he couldn't let that be the end for her. His anger boiled up as he dropped the bag. Yes, they would deserve this. They are the "filthy thieving animals." He charged them, tackling the one closest to him into the other two. Despite them having a few years on him, he was roughly the same size. They collapsed into a jumble of limbs and fists.
He saw stars briefly as a fist found his cheek and they scrambled to separate from him. Instinctually, his aura was called upon to deal with the incoming damage. Two managed to escape, but he latched onto one with black hair, punching the boy's face with a startling force. He heard the bones break as he pummeled him; their auras weren't unlocked – he had a chance. He took pleasure in feeling blood begin to splatter him, and then a slab of metal hit him upside the head, knocking him off the other black haired boy. He fell into the wall, broken rusty bits of metal scattered around him from the scrap breaking on impact. His semblance activated at the last second, and though it hurt, he was prepared.
He looked up as the world shook just a bit – aura wasn't too great at stopping concussive damage. Another boy, a blond, grabbed the one whose face was now a bloody mess, dragging him away. The other, the cop's boy, pulled out a small pistol and fired indiscriminately toward Adam, some missing. His aura took the hits, his semblance seizing the energy. As some clicks rang out over the echoes of the shots, Adam charged again.
"It's the fucking bull boy!" he heard the blond say as he decked the red-head with a haymaker. The gun scattered off to the side, the discarded magazine on the ground as the boy staggered into opposite wall. Adam pinned him to the wall with his weight, punching his abdomen with his free hand. He responded by slamming his fists into Adam's back in a struggle to get loose. The blonde's arm found its way around Adam's throat, his aura struggling to fend off the pressure. The other arm started pounding his temple – they were trying to knock him out. He was dead if that happened, he knew that. However, he could already see the faint glow in his long shaggy hair – he wouldn't need to last much longer.
He spun the red-head around with all his might, swinging his back into the wall. The blond slammed into it, loosening his grip, but he managed to stay on. As Adam threw the cop's son, he took advantage of the loose grip to spin toward the blond. In doing so, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He focused his aura on his head just as the pistol slammed into his forehead, just above the eye. He heard a crunch, feeling a sharp pain and seeing a flash as his skull fractured. He felt himself go to the ground, rolling to glare dazedly up to find the raven-haired one whose face he'd destroyed. He saw him insert a fresh magazine and prepped his aura and semblance. All of the shots found his head, the force snapping his head back into the dirt beneath him. He immediately felt the pain as a few more fractures formed, but they hadn't penetrated.
He saw the fear flood in to wash the smug looks off their faces as he sat back up with nothing but bruises. In the dull bits of metal nearby, he saw his glowing hair. This was it, they were done. The blond and brunette took a couple steps back. He heard one say something about a monster, bringing a bloody smile to his face as he stood. A deep, echoing chuckle formed in his throat as the red-head grew angry with their cowardice.
"You just have to know how to deal with these animals – blunt force trauma is how you killed them! Stabbing and guns don't work, it's why we hang them, throw them from cliffs and high buildings, and beat the ever loving shit out of their furry fucking faces!" he said, grabbing a large chunk of metal and swinging it at Adam. The impact staggered Adam as he took to the ground, but he grabbed it and pulled. Kill him, the thought echoed. Feeling the energy course through his aura, feeling that unnerving yet comforting deformation of flesh in his face, he directed it into his right fist. He stared into the cop boy's face, noting the light freckles, slightly chubby cheeks, and wispy orange hair. He noted the white teeth bared in a scowl, the hazel eyes burning with anger, disgust, and fear. Things he'd never forget. His fist slammed into the boy with all the might of his semblance, Adam seeing the light instantly leave his eyes as one burst and the skull caved in with horrible noises and a spatter of red blood and petals. The body flew up into the walls of the alley, bouncing off with a sickening and buckling crunch as blood smeared across the wall and rained into the alley. It fell in a still heap at the opening behind the other boys who turned to stare, a trail of fluttering rose petals falling from its path.
They blond turned to him with a glint of anger, the dark haired one devolving into hysterics of swearing and the words "dead" and "killed him." "I fucking know where you live bull boy. We'll fucking lynch you, just like your whore mother!" he said, grabbing the other boy and turning to run. "You're fucking dead! And we'll boil that little puss bitch in a tub of your filthy animal blood!" he continued into the distance.
Adam stared for a moment, locked into place by dread as the anger and adrenaline drained. What had he done? He turned to the girl, realizing he didn't know if she was alright. He was relieved to see a yellow eye staring at him in fear. She was frightened, but at least she was alive. He took a step toward her, causing her crawl back.
"I'm… I…" he began, but didn't know what to do. He'd killed her now more surely than before – he had no doubt the boy wasn't bluffing about what they'd do. Plenty of humans and faunus lived down here together, but no one looked out for one another. All it did was get you into troubled. Looking around, he saw several pairs of eyes staring from various windows, doors, and shadows. They watched, they listened, but never did anything. Fuck! He thought, knocking his fist into his forehead. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fucking idiot! Why did he do that? Why did he always lose control? Fighting them was bad enough, but fucking killing one of them? What the fuck had he been thinking? He scrambled to try and think of something, anything, to get out of this without swinging from a rope. His dad… his dad had to be able to do something. He was part of the White Fang, all the faunus around here looked up to him. Surely he could do something, right?
He ran to the girl, scooping her into his arms as she tried to crawl away. Nails and teeth bit into his flesh as she panicked, but he held her tight. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated over and over again as he ran, leaving the now cold pastry and bag behind. She began to calm down as they ran, but started mewing as though calling for help. "No one's going to help you. No one besides me," he said as he ran. She began to sob instead. For some reason, he found that more heart wrenching than the cries for help. "I know you can understand me – please, stop crying and listen." At first, there was no reaction, but then she slowly stopped, looking up to him with the glare he'd seen when they'd first met. She was an aggressive little thing, wasn't she? "Just calm down, we need to get you somewhere they can't hurt you. Those boys, they'll be back and they'll do much worse than beat you. I'm trying to keep that from happening, understand?" She nodded slowly. She didn't resist again as he ran to his home, charging into the little one room suite.
His dad looked up in surprise as Adam began to spew out the tale of his evening with tears down his face. "Dad, you have to help, he said they knew where we lived. I don't know how long it'll take them, but you have do something," he ended, staring at the man. The blue eyes, just like his own, stared down as his jaw moved. He'd remained silent, showing little emotion throughout the tale. "Dad…?" he asked.
The low voice spoke, "You are remarkably foolish," he said slowly. He sighed as he stood with a shaken head.
"She was going to die! It was my fault, they thought she stole it. I couldn't do nothing!" he said, frustrated that he hadn't just left. He wasn't sure if what he did was the right thing as it was – having his dad say otherwise wasn't helping.
"No, you did good helping her. It's just how you went about it," he said, stepping up to look at the girl. He placed his massive hand on her head, kneeling down to look her in the face. "Don't worry, little one, I'll keep you safe. We faunus must look out for one another, don't you agree?" She nodded slowly. His father smiled – a rare sight. "Put her in the wall, then grab my case from the back."
Adam looked up in shock. The case? The question must have been clear on his face because his father nodded grimly as though in verification. Adam ran to the back, opening a closet. The wall was loose, and he moved it to put the little girl inside. He told her to wait quietly and as he dug for his father's case. He heard the sliding plate on the front door as cries, shouts and screams echoed out. The witchhunt had begun, it seemed. He hefted the massive case. As large and strong as he was for his young age, this was still tough to move. He brought it over to his father who had removed his voluminous robe. Only some loose, ratty sweatpants hung from his hips now, revealing his monstrous physique. His dad took the case with ease, setting it flat to open it. Inside was Akai Oni, the great metal spiked kanabo the Shizine Order had made for him as a member of the White Fang – a tool for self defense during his travels to his chapter on the far continent of Vytal. Roughly six feet of solid metal and machinery, this was the man's pride and joy. He grabbed hold of it, red dust filling the spikes running down its length with explosive power.
"Go into the wall with the girl, and stay quiet," he said. The noise was loud outside, and he heard the mob calling for him by name. He nodded, going into the closet. "Adam," his father called with his hand on the sliding plate. Adam looked back. "Whatever happens, I want you to know I'm proud of you. Sometimes the only right thing to do is the foolish thing to do." Adam nodded, sliding into the wall with the little girl. It was cramped, but he hugged her to him as his father began to speak.
At the time, the wall kept him from making it out clearly, but he'd later learn what he'd done. The spikes of Akai Oni were detachable. Sending them out into the crowd, a spare set was loaded into the miniature cannon within its length. Leveling it at them, he'd told them they would leave him, his son, and his daughter alone, or he'd shoot into the crowd and blow them all away. They'd called his bluff, saying the girl wasn't his daughter and he should at least hand her over. They'd also stated he'd be hit with the blast as well and revealed captured faunus as hostages. He refused, saying all faunus were of the same family and he wouldn't back down until they left his family alone. He then commented on how his aura was unlocked and he was trained in its use, whereas most of them did not have it unlocked at all, and none were trained in its use. Should it still manage to kill him, he and the faunus within the crowd "should be happy to make that sacrifice in the name of exterminating pathetic excuses for people" like them. They'd backed down, only a few dying that night when it should have been dozens. He'd left the spike mines throughout the faunus communities, killing a few humans in the following days to drive his point home.
He'd certainly gotten his daring, ruthlessness, and stubbornness from his father; that was for sure. From then on, he'd been introduced into the White Fang. His father had Wilt and Blush made so that he could look after himself when left alone, but he began to take him and the girl with him on trips more often, especially to Vytal and Menagerie. Shortly after that, Auratus had her lead them to her home where the bare skeletons of two faunus lay. Faded and barely legible was a message in blood: Stay safe, Blake, we love you. Upon asking her, she verified her name was Blake. His dad said he knew of them, even finding their old White Fang papers – he'd commented that she was meant to be with him in the White Fang. Even later, when she'd learned to speak properly, she told Adam that she'd been present when they were killed, hiding in a place just like their wall. Some crooked cops had beaten them for stealing food for her. She'd seen and heard everything, running when they were distracted. They'd chased her, but her knack for hiding meant she was never found. She'd stayed there for a long time even though she knew her parents were hurt. When she came back, they had already died from their injuries, leaving her alone. That was when he'd promised he'd always look after her.
He sighed. He remembered how she'd had a bunch of books from her garage, how he'd begun to look for them in his scavenge runs. He remembered growing up, him out on the streets hanging with the guys while she'd read quietly nearby. He remembered how she'd always been at all the rallies and meetings, never showing fear in the face of danger. He remembered her excitement at getting and mastering Gambol Shroud, at pleasing Auratus, Conri, and Livor with her performance. He remembered her reluctance to hurt another, the…disappointment she felt when Conri had changed the White Fang. He remembered the descent from the hopeful to determined, from idealist to realist.
The two had always talked about living in the fancy houses and palaces that some humans had, as though pulling straight from a fairy tale. He thought about what her meeting with her teammate, the heiress, must have been like. As a child, she'd have longed to meet and be like someone like the Schnee. Later, he saw her staring at the girl's musical performances, not with wonder and envy as she once would have, but sadness and disgust. He remembered when he was her knight in shining armor. For roughly a decade, they were inseparable. He remembered everything. But books were one thing, life was another.
Like Rakuen, things got worse the deeper you went. On the surface, humanity and faunus seemed to get along just fine. The world was good, and the right thing won out in the end. The will of the White Fang had seemed reasonable. He'd fought for a cause, to make the world better for her and people like her. He'd been a good person. Deeper, however, you found some people didn't care for the other species. Hate and violence was still alive. The world was everything but good, and only the strong won out in the end. The White Fang wanted vengeance. He'd fought to pay back the injuries incurred onto him, to kill all those he saw responsible for the things wrong in his life. He'd been a racist who wanted nothing but to see every human kneel before him while he put a bullet through their skull.
Anger and pain were such harsh yet seductive mistresses. You knew it was bad, but giving in felt like things could never be good again. Your only salvation was the destruction it cause you to wreak. It built in a cycle of ever increasing magnitude, a rising tide that became a consuming tsunami. Vengeance and sadism were two sick pleasures that had enthralled him for too long. Her leaving had shaken their hold, had made him question himself. When had it become about vengeance? When had it become about making the humans suffer? Wasn't it supposed to be about justice? About making the faunus great – greater than man had ever been? When had it become about destruction instead of creation?
And then there was Scott. The man had taken an interest in him from the moment they'd met. He'd sought mission after mission with Adam. He'd saved Adam's life, and nearly at the price of his own. Several times. Why? he remembered thinking. What was this human's game? Because there was selflessness in some people out there, and for whatever reason, this one saw something in Adam. He'd forgotten that at some point, even with Blake being the one who'd taught him. Despite Adam threatening to kill the man himself – and trying to – Scott always sought him out. Even back at base, he'd try to talk, and was always so annoyingly happy. Adam eventually broke down to having talks with him. Finally, he had to ask about his demeanor. What could there possibly be to smile about when participating in a risky terrorist attack and you're job involved killing tons of innocent people? He'd probably never forget the answer. The man's philosophy was… interesting.
As the sound of the powerful dust engine roared through the forest, Adam looked up. The blue lights in the distance told of his other partner's arrival. It was about time. Adam went to walk down to greet the old friend. He was a man who'd watched the two of them grow up together, and then grow apart. He was someone who'd understood and sympathized with old friendships growing apart. Someone who'd shared his pain. So, when Scott proposed the idea when Adam cited his growing unrest with what was happening, he'd been the first one he'd gone too. The man had agreed and then proposed another who could serve as a powerful ally – Blaine Myska. As many men, and a few women, bowed, saluted, or waved in acknowledgment, he waved them off.
They were human and faunus alike, men and women, hiding out in this abandoned settlement out in Forever Fall. They were on the run and struggling. The organization was low on cash and rationing both food and clean water. Equipment was failing with only some remaining operational, and repair was difficult due to lack of parts and expertise. They were ones who had sworn to help him achieve his goal. They were both hopeful and determined. They wanted equality unlike the current White Fang. They weren't afraid to fight for it like the old White Fang. They were something else, and they were his.
"Tell me you've good news, Livor," he said to the man pulling up on a large trike. It mechanized from a sports cycle profile into a large wheelchair, the massive sphere tire in the back spinning it to face Adam. Livor Nubesat, a horse faunus with beige skin and dark blue hair, sat in the machine. A blue metallic pocket watch was produced, the thin mustache and soul patch goatee moving into a frown as he noted the time.
"I see I'm a bit late. My deepest apologies, Adam, but yes, I've good news," the old man spoke. His blue hair was graying, and a few wrinkles were beginning to make themselves known in his long face. The liver-spotted hands returned the pocket watch before removing his helmet mask. It had two large indigo teardrops over the eyes, the rest a white mask that swept over the forehead and back over both sets of ears. "The stronghold wasn't too hard – I incapacitated them all easily enough. I successfully retrieved the information from their servers, but do not know what it is without Blaine decoding it first."
"I see, that is good news. Blaine, can you get on that?" Adam said, calling on his mask microphone.
"Already on it," the mouse faunus called back. The scroll in front of Livor, sitting in a dock at the front of the large mechanized trike, came to life as Blaine initiated remote access. The man was likely within his lab, currently set up within the old sewers beneath them due to the lack of a large intact building here.
"I heard about Vale. Did you have the chance to talk?" Livor asked. Adam shook his head. "You didn't want to, I imagine. Too many old memories, hm? Well, at least she's alright for now. Hopefully we can find out what their next move is – I do not know how Conri wants to treat things now that he believes the fourth element has been taken care of. Do you think he'll work on the other elements or work on one of the other tetragrams?"
"We don't know if he's managed to decipher the meaning of the other Tetragrams. We haven't had much luck. Without knowing the extent of all the spiritual stuff associated with it, we can't do much. You're the closest to a Shizine we've got, though thankfully they no longer have access to the archives either."
Livor hummed in displeasure. "It's worse, actually. Remember the one they were looking for? The Wanderer?" Adam looked upward, sighing in exasperation. He knew what was coming next. "Yeah. The Wanderer was last seen with them, but we don't know if they are actually working together. The Wanderer shouldn't cooperate with them – never once in our years of existence has that seemed like something of interest." That's right; Livor was one of the founding members of the White Fang. Adam had forgotten that - he was a bit younger than the other founders. Most were pushing up daisies while he was pushing eighty – Conri's mother Oihanna had roughly ten years on him.
"That may be a setback, then. If only we knew where to look, but we don't even know what we're looking for at all. There's not much left of the School of the Tetragram left to look into outside of the Shizine archives. Have we managed to get in contact with the Order directly?" Adam said.
"Not yet, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. You need a high ranking Shizine or a referral by one – no exceptions. We don't have a Shizine – that's that. Livor got what little credit he had revoked when they discovered the White Fang's involvement with Miss Fall just like Conri and Auratus. Just be patient, I'm sure these files will give us something to work off of," Blaine came through.
"Got it," he said reluctantly. He was right; they could only wait at the moment. They didn't have the resources to take advantage of the information they had, nor did they have the information they had the resources to deal with. Until something changed, they were stuck dead in the water. However, he wasn't deterred. His mind wandered to back to his earlier thoughts. "…the real world isn't the same as a fairy tale…" She'd told him that back then in that empty warehouse with her friend. And she was right - no, it wasn't. Life was not like the books…
"It's what you make of it. The world's a fucked up place, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy it. Hating it doesn't change anything, and if you're really convinced you can't make it better, then change yourself. It's all a matter of perspective – you see the world and are frustrated and angry. I see the world and I'm fascinated. The thing is, it's the same world – it's only how you look at it. It's not about seeing good and bad, or values or morals – you said it, I fucking kill people for a living, many of which probably don't deserve it. But we know the world isn't fair. It's complicated, and crazy, and fucked up, but at the end of the day, it's what we've all got. No matter what we say or do, it doesn't give a damn, and that's incredible! It means what we want doesn't matter, but at the same time, is the only thing that matters! Because the world keeps spinning, and if you're just along for the ride, shouldn't you want to enjoy it? That's why I'm happy. Because, at the end of the day, I'm still a part of something beautiful, and ugly, and cruel, and everything else and I'm just enjoying the ride… in any way I can." That was what Scott had told him, and it freed him from his anger and frustration as he'd said. He was done being angry at a world that didn't care. He knew what he wanted, he knew who he cared about, and he was going to do his best to pursue that. He'd try to make the lives of those people he cared about as great as he could, regardless of the cost. Once that was done, he'd find something else to pursue. And should he never get there? Well, at least he'd enjoy the ride.
A/N: So first of all, let me just say that the title isn't a mistake, I know how to spell cynical. It's a shitty bit of wordplay like a third (I'm saying that off the top of my head, it's probably more) of my chapter titles. Second, I forgot to mention something last time. So, those of you who have read my extra stuff from /r/RWBYOC (I'm so sorry for all that reading if you have) may have noticed Auratus seems similar to the character Auroch. That would be because I changed his name and didn't update the post. I've actually changed a few characters - if it's not in a released chapter of BW, I reserve the right to change whatever I like. Scott's probably the worst offense - I've pretty much completely rewritten his history and ever so slightly modified his personality. Anyway, on to important stuff: this will probably be it for Adam until later. Which is to say, I tamed back the amount of back story and created this single chapter to help paint the picture of who my Adam is. I actually think you learn a lot this chapter, I'm quite proud of that. It probably leaves you with a lot of questions though - I'm afraid there's nothing I could about that. Okay, not true, but I'm not going to do anything about it just yet. I intend for you to think about my work, to wonder, and question. Not too much though, you'll probably realize some plothole I'm not seeing. Alright, I think that's all (it probably isn't), so I'll let you get on your merry way. As usual, all feedback is welcome, and enjoy your week. ~Shinobi201 out