A/N: So, I should explain myself. I reread this chapter and found myself disliking it immensely, so I tried rewriting it. Taking it down was perhaps an overreaction... wait no it was totally overreacting. Whoops.
Thornstrumb is still the 200th person to follow Not What You Expected, so hurrah.
00000
For the span of a second Crescent Rose almost sang, the curved blade slicing through the air in near silence before crashing against the jagged sword. The impact of the two weapons resounded in a tremendous crash, striking with far more power than either combatant appeared capable of mustering. Just as quickly the two blades slid off each other, the edges of both weapons dropping a patter of red hot sparks onto the stripped topsoil, grinding off one another in a wail of abused metal.
Ruby spun the scythe around for a quick reposition, bringing up the haft to block a rapid strike from the hostile sword. It was a move that worked many times in the past, but the diminutive girl underestimated her opponent's strength; her boots dug miniature trenches in the exposed dirt, flinging handfuls of topsoil behind her when she finally stopped moving. Only then did she reflexively sway, trying to keep herself from toppling over. Although her body was still reeling, she forced herself to to stay upright and alert.
Gritting her teeth, Ruby brought up her scuffed weapon while the enemy sword daintily twirled. The rifle/scythe combination may have earned a number of fresh dents since sunrise, but the loving care its owner doled out meant its wounds were only skin deep. Crescent Rose's wielder hadn't failed the weapon since she created it so long ago, and in return it wasn't about to let her down now. A good thing in her mind, since she was about to push her treasured scythe, and herself, to the limit.
The sword ceased moving, flicking to the woman's side. "A little better I admit. But not good enough."
At the sight of Cinder smirking with undue confidence, Ruby let out a quiet breath to do something about her anger. It was no use; the core of hate she buried long ago was free, and there was nothing she could do to deny it's vile demands.
She vanished into a cloud of rose petals, only to reappear at Cinder's back with her scythe sweeping out. But to her mounting frustration, the woman simply ducked out of the way of her wide lunge, smoothly twisting around so she was behind the attacking girl. Her movements were incredibly fluid, twisting and flowing with a level of grace she wasn't used to seeing. Were it anybody else she would be in awe at such talent. Except right now, said talent just repositioned herself to lash out.
Ruby's snarl turned into a yelp when she vanished again, narrowly avoiding a handful of fire heading right at her spine. The blow missed her by centimeters, incinerating many of her leftover petals. At the same time, Cinder wasn't untouched; right after she reformed, Ruby jerked around to shoot, the recoil pushing her back to the ground. The round aimed wasn't close to her foe, but the woman's sword was. With a sharp crank her bullet took off a hunk of the barbed edge, lacing cracks all over the blade's surface.
Landing with a muffled "oomph." a short distance away, Ruby glanced around to discover Cinder looking at her weapon with muted surprise. When she snapped out a quick glare at the perpetrator, she mustered a confident grin.
"Sure about that?" she replied in a mockery of the woman's tone; she was trying something Yang did sometimes, taunting her opponent so they'd slip up. Though Cinder's huff told her she didn't have much success.
"Okay, I'm not in the mood for games after all." she said, bringing up a fist to crack her neck. "Time to start taking this seriously."
Ruby blinked once, preparing for the retaliation. One second Cinder was several meters away at rest, and the next she reappeared right in front of her, the damaged sword thrusting forward. A quick jerk to the side barely moved her out of the way in time, unintentionally sliding right into the path of a flame coated fist. Right before the blow landed onto her torso, the red toned girl suddenly wondered if she was in over her head. It certainly seemed like the case now.
Her world exploded into pain; a wheezing gasp blew past her lips, throwing a thin wad of spittle flying out with the gasp. But even as she doubled over from the powerful strike, Cinder drove a knee up right into the center of her face. This time a cry left the girl when her body was flung back, her weapon almost slipping from limp fingers. Finally, the woman concluded with another simplistic punch, this one landing on her exposed solar plexus. She didn't move very much, yet the power was sufficient to blast the smaller girl entirely off her feet.
A grunt left Ruby when she hit the dirt; it wasn't due to toughness, but rather because she had only enough breath remaining for a lone huff of displaced air. Rolling onto her back, she fought her grimace to creak her eyes open. She was heaving raggedly the entire time, feeling spikes of pain in her chest.
Cinder was marching towards her in a rapid gait, the start of a smile quickly crushed as she bore down on her. "I'd love to stretch this out, but I have bigger problems. Count yourself-"
Boom, went the gunshot from outside of her vision.
Ruby wasn't sure which came first; the sharp crack of a medium sized round, or Cinder's head jerking back from the unexpected blow. Whatever the case, the woman shrank back with a gasp of her own, clutching her face as she staggered. The next thing the red toned girl knew, a figure blew past her at a breakneck pace, a sword steaming beside him. Just as the woman steadied herself, the flat side of a shield slammed into her, impacting with enough power to make her stumble in a circle.
Ruby's features lit up despite her pain. On the other side of Cinder, Jaune whipped around with a planted foot dug into the soil, Crocea Mors held at the ready. By the injured girl's flank a second figure skidded to an abrupt halt, an aside glance revealing the arrival as Pyrrha; letting go of her rifle, the redhead held out an open palm, which Ruby clasped at once.
"You okay?" she demanded quickly, almost barking over the background noise. A muffled grunt left her when she pulled, yanking her up with a yelp. The second she let go Ruby stumbled on unsteady feet, only just regaining her balance.
"I-I'm fine." she answered shakily, wincing when she brought Crescent Rose back up.
Nodding in acknowledgment, Pyrrha switched back to Cinder to aim once more. While she helped her, Jaune closed the gap on the woman again, bringing his sword down in a vicious slice. Despite the surprise attack Cinder reacted quickly, whipping her own sword up to meet his. The jagged blade met the silver and black sword along the middle, below the location Ruby shot, and impacted with a high pitched snap. With a sprinkling crackle her sword was sliced in half near instantly, the top half spinning away on its own route as she continued her slice, narrowly missing the sharp edge brushing so closely.
Jaune kept going for several paces before he could stop himself, arresting his momentum to twist himself around. Practiced ease kept the sword hanging at his flank, while the shield was brought up defensively. Cinder however was standing in place, numbly glaring at the sheared length of steel remaining above her grip. Slowly turning around, she met the blond's panting expression with her own puzzled one, her confusion morphing into anger.
"Figures." the woman muttered, almost silent over the noise. Snorting in disgust, she tossed the destroyed sword away to clench her fists.
Jaune tilted his head back, moving his shield down to his hip. "Surrender and you won't be harmed."
Although Pyrrha suppressed a grimace at his bold call, Ruby jerked her head towards him in shock. He was offering her mercy? Everything that had happened; the first Battle, the assassin who nearly killed his sister, the death of his stargate team, and now this raging battle for the fate of Beacon, all of it. Everything could be laid at the feet of Cinder Fall. The sole reason there were two armies all around them was her fault, done for the express purpose of slaughtering everyone in the Academy. The red toned girl was completely dumbstruck at his offer.
Cinder scoffed, her eyes narrowed. "Have you been living under a rock?" she snapped, standing up straight. Right then Ruby noticed there was some redness on her face, no sign of even a bruise. "Or are you that... hang on."
All three tensed, Jaune holding something behind his shield. The woman frowned, raising a brow as she glanced at him and the armed redhead nearby.
"I know who you two are. You vanished off the face of the globe years ago." Cinder stated, rolling her shoulders.
Jaune and Pyrrha tensed, but not Ruby. Although she wanted to know how she found out their secret, it wasn't important right now. Nevertheless she felt relief when their respective gazes narrowed dangerously.
"We're back now. And this means you're outnumbered and outgunned." the blonde replied, pawning an object to his shield hand.
As if on cue, a Nevermore swooped overhead on its path to the battle, shrilly proclaiming its defiance at the huntsmen a short distance away. But its screech was quickly drowned out by another whine, rising in pitch until a rapid object boomed overhead. The bold Nevermore was cut off mere seconds later, a series of high pitched noises cracking the air around them as the creature was perforated. None of the three friends looked away, though Cinder peered upwards to witness the Grimm's death in poorly concealed awe.
"Case in point." Pyrrha chimed in with a tiny smirk, which quickly withered when the woman's hard gaze returned to them.
"So what? I brought Vale to its knees in two months." Cinder snapped, cracking her knuckles. "When I find the Bifrost, I'll make Barsoom my own kingdom in a week." she almost gloated, dismissively waving them off.
But instead of matching her resolve, both the blonde and the redhead raised their eyebrows at her statement. Cinder blinked at their shared confusion, then a scowl overtook her.
"What?"
Pyrrha cleared her throat. "Barsoom isn't real, its out of this hundred year old book."
"Not real? But..." Cinder blinked repeatedly, features twitching dangerously. Finally she groaned, slapping her face hard enough to be heard over the gunfire a short distance away.
"If you fell for that, you won't last an hour out there." Jaune gloated, earning a glare from her. The air temperature seemed to rise several degrees in response.
"You're in over your head." Ruby declared confidently, keeping the rifle aimed at her while she leaned close to the redhead. When she spoke next, her soft question was barely heard over the din. "Hey, what's a Bifrost?"
"I think its the Asgard name for the Stargate." she replied quickly, shaking her head.
"Oh." she went. Though she still had questions, the red toned girl filed those under the 'not important' category for the time being.
Cinder started to bare her teeth, but the woman forced her curled lips back down. When she stood up straight again a hand came up to crack her neck, even as another F302 raced overhead.
"There's nothing you can throw at me that I can't handle. In fact." a dark grin overtook her features. "You seem to know a lot about all this stuff. How about a counter offer? Tell me everything you know about the ring, and I'll let you go free. I have no quarrel with either of you."
"No way." Ruby growled, earning a brief look from the redhead.
Jaune smirked. "Not a bad idea. Here's my answer."
He whipped his shield aside, making Cinder bring her up flame covered hands to block. But instead of revealing a blade, Jaune extended his concealed arm up to point at the woman, the headpiece of the Zat'nik'tel already primed. A quick squeeze of the trigger, and the alien weapon unleashed a bolt of stunning power.
Cinder took the shot, grunting as she reflexively flinched. The woman's stance twitched, grimacing as a shudder ran through her body. She neither fell, cried out, or collapsed into unconsciousness.
Ruby blinked. As did Pyrrha.
"Uh..." Jaune went, his mouth cracked open while the Zat continued to stay in place.
Shaking her head, Cinder straightened herself out to affix him with an annoyed glare. "What'd you just shoot me with?"
"Wait, isn't that supposed to...?" Ruby trailed off, sparing a leery glance at the Zat.
"Yeah, it is. I've... never seen this happen before." Pyrrha admitted.
"Oh, kay." Jaune gulped and fired again, watching Cinder twitch without much effect. A third shot caused her to snort, and in doing so made his fourth go wild, caused by her dashing over in an eye blink.
He drew back to avoid her snatching grip, reaching towards him as fast as a viper. The young man only just cleared his shield, but the Zat remained in grasping range a second too long. Stumbling back to reorient himself, Jaune returned to his previous defensive stance, grimacing at Cinder clutching her new prize. Settling a hard gaze upon him, the woman grabbed two of the segments of the Zat and twisted, the shell cracking as she ripped it apart.
"Your move." she said, tossing the destroyed alien weapon away.
Pyrrha switched Miló to javelin form and took off, snatching her shield off her back mid sprint. Ruby took a breath herself, and vanished into rose petals. Upon noticing the girls, Jaune charged towards the woman with his sword out in a swing, a snarl on his lips. All three weapons; the silver and black sword, the bronze tinted javelin, and the curved steel of a scythe reached their target in almost perfect synchronization, each coming down on the woman in a red dress. And just as quickly, she reacted.
Cinder weaved around Jaune's sideways blow, twisted her head around the stabbing javelin of Pyrrha, and jerked back just far enough for Ruby's downward strike. All three friends were simultaneously off balanced by their attacks failing to connect, allowing her free reign to slam her flame covered fists together, the concentrated Dust residue and Aura creating a powerful concussive blast. It was like a small bomb, sending all three limply tumbling away in a thunderclap of raw power.
One after another, they hit the ground, each one crumpling with a cry. Cinder saw their pain, and methodically cracked her neck. "Alright, time to work off some frustration."
00000
Pendergast kept a close eye on the shifting battle far below the Prometheus, grimacing through an ever growing stream of bad news. Although the greying Colonel wanted to say the situation was no longer in doubt, every setback reported caused the man to grip his armrests tighter.
"Turret Seventeen burned out, repair teams are moving in. Turrets Twenty Two, Twenty, Nineteen, Thirteen, Seven, and Four are confirmed nonfunctional. We're starting to redline across the board."
"Last of the conventional ordnance is spent, all 302s are dry on missiles. We're down to railguns and nukes only sir."
"Shields holding steady."
Lionel planned on having words with the engineers once they returned to Earth. If such a short time in battle taxed the ship this much, then a major overhaul was long overdue.
"This is Blue Five, we are bingo munitions. Requesting permission to fall back."
"Blue Two reporting, wells run dry here too."
The Colonel hit his comm. "Blue Two, Blue Five, break off and get some distance. All remaining 302s, clear out when you're out of ammo, not a second sooner."
"Copy." came a brief chorus.
"Get a repair crew on every burned out gun, if they're fried grab the ammo and feed it into the remaining batteries." Pendergast commanded, leaning forward in his seat.
"Yes sir." an Airman snapped to, hunching over a comm panel.
Far below, Pendergast saw the tide starting to turn. The Rangers and Russian armor had helped the Atlesian forces break the White Fang advance, though increasing numbers of Grimm were being drawn in to the hammered lines. He could see missiles and lasers lashing out to the black specks encroaching on them, killing many but far from all. Like clockwork the T90s were destroying a mass of enemies every few seconds, creating gouts of billowing flame over target clusters, yet their constant attacks meant few of the tanks could exploit their significant range. Larger Grimm were a serious problem however, which redirecting the remaining turrets remedied. Already there had been several close calls.
However, the attention the lines gathered drew focus away from the other combatants. The multicolored stains of Beacon's Huntsmen were regrouping on a hill a short distance from the trenches, seemingly boiling away the black specks on contact. Even though their numbers had clearly shrunk, the Huntsmen were still reaping a toll on the swarming monsters, creating a mist of black ash on the edges of their rally point. To ensure none of his vessel's fire caught any of them by mistake, Pendergast reluctantly ordered his guns away from their combat zone. The most he could do was take out some of the larger beasts left on the field.
Last were a steel colored legion of machines, systematically marching out from the airship's ruins. The least effective of the major gatherings, the androids were nonetheless thinning out the decreasing numbers of Grimm coming from the forest. Even as the robots were destroyed by either Grimm or the White Fang, they didn't let up the pressure. The two remaining walker robots he could spot were causing significant damage as well; one stayed on top of the ship to rain down fire support, while the other contented itself by rushing right into the fray, smashing or blasting any foe the pilot could find.
Pendergast had to forcibly remind himself he was watching a battle; people were dying in droves beyond his stuffy bridge, he had to end this as soon as possible.
"Lay down a burst on the forest line, thin them out from the source." he directed, hoping a fusillade of high velocity slugs would keep the creatures in the woods.
"Roger." the helmsman responded, immediately refocusing on his display when it beeped. "Sir, incoming transmission."
"From who?" he demanded tightly.
"Its... the Atlas forces. They're hailing us." he reported quickly.
"Put em on."
The radio crackled to life, the background noise swiftly clearing up. "-peat, this is Red Two to the Prometheus. Respond."
"This is Prometheus, we read you Red Two." Pendergast answered quickly, gripping his armrest.
"Copy that. The enemy forces attacking Vale have been routed, friendlies are moving in to reinforce Beacon." the unseen Atlesian informed. Relief surged through the sagging bridge crew, and nowhere was this more evident than the Colonel slumping back in his seat.
"Good to hear Red Two." Pendergast smiled for the first time since he woke up. "I'll pass the word down."
"Rodger Prometheus, tell your men to hang on a little longer. We're sending everything we have your way. Red Two out."
00000
Despite a rather poor start, Winter's day had been turning around remarkably fast. The white haired woman fully expected to be playing firefighter to Vale's defenses all day long (likely dying in the process), either directing overenthusiastic volunteers or keeping her troops focused on the mission, on top of stopping the Grimm from overrunning the defenders. Her itinerary from sunrise certainly gave such an impression.
And yet here she was now, hunched over a Bullhead's pilots with a comm interface in hand, keeping a veritable fleet of airships in a rough formation. A mixture of civilian airbuses, police craft, and heavily armed gunships, every one of the almost hundred strong VTOL armada was loaded with excited fighters, eager to take the fight to the Grimm. Directing this ad hoc force was as simple as pointing them towards Beacon, although the hard part was keeping enough distance between each craft to avoid crashing into one another.
The howling gale from the open hatches was a nuisance all things considered, but it beat having to socialize with her unwanted companions. But when the comms went silent, the Commander sighed under her breath. She had little choice but to crane her head over her shoulder, to check on her erstwhile (and unwanted) companions.
"Nice try, but not good enough. Here." yelled Taiyang over the wind, leaning back while his legs dangled in open air. From a wallet he produced a photo for the couple beside him, jostling his axe out of the way when he handed it over.
Kali snatched the picture away before the wind stole it, placing the tiny photo between her and Ghira, while he cupped a hand around it for extra protection. The two faunus squinted at the tiny prize, examining its surface; mere seconds later he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, while she gasped in a barely restrained squeal.
"They're so adorable!" she exclaimed, reluctantly handing the photo back over.
"Told ya. My girls were the dress up queens." Taiyang boasted, causing Ghira to laugh uproariously.
"Okay, you got us there. But cmon, how do you match the yarn ball story?" he challenged, reaching over his wife to playfully nudge the chuckling blonde. Even a sudden jolt from turbulence failed to dampen his mood.
"Well I could say mud pies in the oven. But you're right, yarn filled redecoration is pretty funny." Taiyang laughed.
When the comm crackled again, Winter snatched up the device to appear busy. Unfortunately for her patience, the speaker wasn't an Atlesian soldier or Vale militiaman.
"Commander, status?"
Winter took a breath, silently reminding herself there were worse people she could be speaking to. "All green Major. You?"
"Ditto. Kinda wish I had a squadron of B-52s, but this'll work."
"And I wish I had a dozen Claymore-class Destroyers. We'll make do with what we have." Winter leaned over the pilots, peering out the cockpit window.
The Bullhead Washington and his team hopped into was still at their flanks, the Major hopefully assisting with coordinating this sloppy relief force. Again she suppressed the stab of bitter envy at the Earther soldier taking the next airship without her, leaving the woman in the company of her unwanted... Winter actually didn't know what to classify her passengers as. But the woman could definitely say she would sooner jump out without a chute than label them in-laws.
"A man can dream though, we- shit, hostile eleven'oh'clock." Washington abruptly cut the line, the cue for Winter to snap her head forward.
Swooping into the fleet's path was a Gryphon, an unusually large specimen one at least forty meters long, its six limbed form rotunded as opposed to the flatter Nevermore breeds. The colossal beast flared its wings in front of the forces, letting out a screech as its claws were bared. Winter was peripherally aware of several Bullheads breaking formation, diving high or low to get out of the way. Being in a gunship, she had the means to fight back, and a whine of a spooling gun told her the pilots were already on it.
But before any shots were fired, a burst of yellow projectiles flew overhead, stitching across the Gyphon with unerring accuracy. The beast's screech turned into a surprised gurgle as it jerked back, coinciding with a rising scream of a casually broken sound barrier. Winter had to grip the seats when the gunship rocked more than before, listening to the pilots cursing and barely catching a black shape zipping past.
"Hey, learn to fly!" Taiyang shouted indignantly.
Ignoring him, Winter peered out to see if any craft went down, sighing in relief when she didn't spot a fresh wreck. Reflexes placed the comm back to her ear when it crackled, the device speaking with a twangy accent she never heard before.
"This is Blue Leader to Vale flyers. Keep em coming boys, we got your backs."
Winter could hear the alien craft screaming overhead, but she couldn't see their supposed escorts. What she saw quite clearly were the few remaining aerial Grimm in sight being cut down, the beasts dying at a hyperactive tempo. Her reservations for the unexpected help came to a fiery end when the comm alighted again, this time with Washington on the line.
"You heard the man, the boys and girls down there held out long enough."
A staticky cheer rose from the machine, and in spite of her still present authority, the pilots joined in with an excited whoop. Winter didn't have time to protest before they surged the controls forward, nearly dragging her out of the hatch. She had a similar problem as more than fifteen hundred Atlas soldiers, Vale militia, and civilian volunteers: the need to join the fight as quickly as possible.
Several kilometers away from the rag tag force, three enormous shapes were powering back to the plain as fast as they could move. Escorts outpaced the massive airships, the vessels' many antigrav emitters glowing dangerously bright. Now that the salvaged laser cannon was confirmed destroyed and the worst of the aerial horde cleared, the Atlas warships had no more reason to keep their distance.
00000
Slamming into the shattered cobblestone once again, Yang bounced once before skidding to a halt. Sucking in a copper tasting breath, the blonde inhaled a mouthful of crunchy grit and coughed, feeling a stab of pain in her ribs. Nevertheless she planted her fists on the ground and pushed, heaving from just getting her face off the ground. When some warm fluid trailed down her temple towards her jaw, she just wiped it away. Ignoring the pain was becoming harder and harder, although the blonde kept at it in single minded determination.
Hacking up a wad of bloody phlegm, she craned her head to the unmoving form of Ren a few meters away. The sable haired young man was lying face down with a bloody gash across his back, both pistols outside of his motionless grip. Was he still breathing? She didn't know, and couldn't tell. But right now she didn't have time to care.
Feeling her legs wobble uncertainly, Yang turned herself around to face their enemy again. The entire time she was suppressing a cringe of pain, trying to ignore her body's protests. Blinking away stars in her vision, she internally took stock of her semblance's built up energy and found it wanting, although there wasn't much she could do about it. That done, she peered towards the fight she was blown away from, where her remaining friends fought on. Like the blonde, they were giving it their all. And just like Yang, their all just wasn't enough.
Blake was out of the fight; she took a lash of dark power across her torso when she tried cutting the Grimm woman. She tried a practice honed trick, creating a shadow clone to confuse the foe so she could get closer. The talking Grimm fell for it, spearing three successive distractions in a row, and when Blake leapt in close she whipped around with a fist covered in black smoke, blasting her into a tree. Her speed was absolutely jaw dropping.
And unfair, she added bitterly.
Blake hadn't rejoined the fight as far as Yang could see, so she assumed her friend was knocked out. Out cold, or... she wasn't helping anymore. Ren being slapped aside when he summersaulted overhead should've given Blake the perfect opening, but that didn't work. In fact, very little they tried worked.
This left Weiss and Nora still in one piece, mostly. They had a simple arrangement going; the ginger would rush forward hammer first, and the heiress would either fire a vial of Dust or try to get a few slashes in. As Yang stumbled back to the fray, she saw them try their new plan again.
Weiss dashed out of the way of a spear of black power, rapier up as she let a gale force wind flow. The robed Grimm raised an arm to block the powerful gust, unaware of Nora sprinting to the periphery of the wind's field. Yang blinked when she realized what she was doing, the growling berserker using the enemy's own body to shield herself from the effects. When the Dust wore off the Grimm woman flung her arm aside, black energy roiling over her forearms. She had her back to the hammer wielding ginger, who swung her weapon overhead with a barely restrained snarl on her features.
A heartbeat before the hammer made contact, more energy swirled over the back of her neck, coalescing into a shimmering barrier. The black head of Nora's hammer slammed into the barrier, the strength behind her rage fueled attack great enough to boom across in a short lived shockwave, and managed to stumble the woman a little. Just as the rebound vibrated down the shaft she swing around, backhanding the orange haired girl away. The weapon fell from Nora's grasp, the girl falling limply much like Yang did.
The thing they faced ignored Weiss to glance at her latest victim, her expression a blank mask. Then she noticed the blonde stumbling closer, and her lip curled.
"Why can't any of you just die?" she questioned in annoyance, tugging on her robe's sleeve to smooth out the fabric. Scoffing at the blonde limping ever closer, she began to glide over the cobblestone walkway. "Stubborn, every last one of you."
Five huntsmen, hundreds of bullets from two different worlds, a vast number of attempted stabs, slashes, and blunt attacks, flung at this one foe. All their efforts, and the results amounted to a darkened bruise on her jaw.
With a snarl Weiss charged forward, weaving side to side to dodge any retaliation. The woman didn't bother reacting until she was nearly upon her, sweeping her arm out to catch the girl's blade. A tug caught the heiress off balance, and when Weiss tried to escape she merely tightened her grip. Another jerk brought the huntress in front of her, the white haired girl just letting go when dark power flowed into her free hand. She waved contemptuously, and the power launched forward to blast the girl right in the chest.
"Omph-" was all Weiss got out before she was brushed aside, unable to take Myrtenaster back when she was sent flying into a tree. She hit the truck and cracked it, hitting the grass seconds ahead of a busted branch falling on top of her.
The woman lifted her new prize to chest level, proceeding to examine the weapon despite closing the gap to the last fighter. When she stopped to thumb the half empty cylinder, Yang kept shuffling ahead with a grimace.
"Excellent craftsmanship." she said, sounding vaguely impressed when she looked up. "Your counterpart certainly knows how to make a good weapon."
Yang didn't deign herself with replying. She only crept ahead at the same pace, loading in the last of her shells with shaking hands. Her semblance was undercharged from what she preferred, although she didn't have much of an option.
"You fought well, all of you. But you never stood a chance." she stated flatly, unsmiling and not boastful. "None of you did."
At last the blonde stopped, halting a sneer when the woman scoffed again. Raising her fists to chest level, Yang readied her usual combat stance, breathing through her mouth at the displeased stare she now had. Myrtenaster twirled in her grip, the inhuman being grabbing the rapier at the hilt as her lip curled. Her entire body rippled, flinging the sword away in the blink of an eye; Yang gasped when the blade sank into soft flesh, feeling a wash of fear in spite of everything that had happened. Sucking in a breath, she braced herself for the fresh injury, surely to be her last.
It took her a second to realize she was unharmed.
Blinking in utter astonishment, Yang found her eyes drawn to the quivering blade hanging in midair, half of the blade suddenly missing. Just as red began to dribble onto the pavement she heard a drawn out groan, like somebody was in pain. The woman's stance shifted, seeming to go on the defensive all of a sudden. When she blinked again the blonde discovered why, when a man in ragged white robes simply appeared in front of her.
The man, the unnaturally pale man, collapsed to his knees with a hand planted on the ground. He was heaving for breath, his free hand gingerly feeling alone the rapier sticking out of his midsection.
"H-how..." he croaked. In response, the woman frowned.
"Strange. I couldn't see you, nor could I hear you. Did I really strike you on accident?" she questioned in puzzlement.
Clenching her teeth, Yang drew on her reserves of strength to meander closer to the man. Her intention wasn't entirely obvious, but she was eyeing the sword more than the injured stranger. Although by no means a swordswoman, she could still get some use out of the rapier, even if it meant using her friend's weapon as a club. Leaving her accidental savior behind wasn't something she wanted to do, but she had to kill this thing before she finished off both of them. Coming up to the stranger, she gingerly extended her hand to reach.
"Hey." she winced once she was beside him, hating how weak she sounded. "Here, get out of-"
Faster than she could react the man snapped, latching ahold of her forearm. A reflexive flinch caused her to tug hard, but his tight grip wasn't slackening whatsoever.
"Gah, let go..." Yang started to jerk harder, but then she realized something.
The rough bandages on his forearm and strangely coarse skin rubbed against her own, and it was somehow affecting her. A bizarre warmth seemed to crawl from his contact, swimming up her forearm towards the rest of her body. Where the warmth went, the pain simmered and fled, and in its wake came newfound strength. The many cuts she had closed up, staunching her leaking blood in rapidly formed scar tissue. Her wide eyes tracked the rapid progress of the warmth, quickly washing over her entire form.
Blinking once more, she found her wide eyes drawn to the man's pained expression. He was staring at her intensely, in a way she wasn't used to seeing; it wasn't perverted want or a sneer, but something else, like he was trying to silently push her. Though his breath was coming out in ragged gasps, his slackening grip dropped without resistance.
"What did you..." she tried to ask, realizing she felt almost as good as when the fight started.
"Not, ah, important." even in pain, the man's voice was almost melodic. "Take my strength young huntress, and defeat this monster."
He collapsed with a groan, though she could tell he was still fully conscious. Utterly lost, Yang glanced to the woman; her lips was curled, and she was glaring at the stranger.
"What are you?" she coldly demanded. Her black eyes flicked once, and suddenly there was a fist in her face.
Yang landed as the woman staggered, launching at her again in a heartbeat with a cry on her lips. Her fists were repeatedly driven into the inhuman being's form with animalistic fury, forcing her to go on the defensive. Even as shadowy power roiled over the woman's forearms, she had to block the blonde's all out assault instead of retaliating. Grunts of effort escaped her lips with every deflected attack, quiet compared to the human's throaty snarls.
She punched again and again, gritting her teeth from the effort. Yang's last shells were used only when the woman was exposed; forcing one arm aside, the blonde fired a round point blank into her chest, this time causing a noticeable gasp. Grinning, she ducked away from a lancing fist to punch her arm; she was certain there was a crack from the limb, and the woman's heave told her she did something. Yang was sure she'd be doing a lot more damage if her semblance had more charge, but she had to make do with what she had.
When Ember Cecelia clicked empty, Yang knew she was out of time. She had to end this, now. Ducking under the woman's sweeping arms, she kicked her legs as hard as she possibly could, propelling herself right towards the inhuman being. Her drawn back fists were thrusted forward, aimed at the woman's face; Yang figured if she could blind her foe, that would make it way easier to kill her. She considered such dirty tricks beneath her, although that was before she fought something immune to her usual fair style.
Centimeters from her goal, powerful grips latched onto the undersides of her biceps. Snarling indignantly, Yang thrashed when the woman's strong hold jerked her back, writhing and kicking like a captured child. The woman however took a deep breath, seething at the prize in her hands. Drawing her head back, the woman slammed her forehead into the blonde's skull with vast force, the sharp crack of the hit causing her to see stars. Her head swirling, Yang couldn't resist the woman letting go of one arm to punch her torso, knocking her away like a discarded toy.
Sliding to a halt beside the stranger, Yang flopped listlessly at his side. Ragged breaths left her lips, unable to do anything about the spikes of pain in her cranium. Even when Mytenaster clattered to the ground in front of her she barely reacted, her lilac eyes watching the robed man flop back with a hand clamped over the bloody hole in his chest. Idly she noted it didn't seem to be near anything vital, although he was clearly at a risk of bleeding out. Just as idly, Yang noticed he accidentally opened the revolver's hinge when he yanked it free. There, centimeters from her hand, sat an exposed casing which had jostled loose when the weapon fell.
An unassuming vial of red Dust.
She stared at the canister of refined material, stuff which had taken ever larger bites out of Weiss' dwindling funds. Stuff which was the key to her world's survival for all these centuries. She stared and stared, her lilac eyes utterly focused on the tiny object.
The man rolled to his side, heaving as he focused on the approaching woman. Until he noticed Yang's hand snaking towards the canister; his eyes switched between the girl and her foe several times, his brow noticeably rising. Swallowing a lump, a fresh gasp escaped him as he rose to his feet, visibly shaking on wobbly feet as he staggered upright. His actions caused the woman to finally cease advancing, cooly regarding the pale stranger clutching his side.
"I command you to stop." he said aloud, raising a hand towards the woman. Schooling his features to neutrality, he took exactly three steps forward, catching the sword's hilt on his foot to drag it closer.
She raised a brow. "I can tell now. You are neither human nor faunus, but an entity outside of creation. You're something which doesn't belong here."
"I am Faramir." the man declared, shoulders rising and sagging from his breathing. "It was I who breathed life into this world, and your kind. You owe your existence to me."
"Are you now." she tipped her head back, her black eyes focused upon the man. "Faramir, I am Salem. And I bow to no one."
"Not even your creator?" he questioned coldly.
"A creator who let his beasts roam free? I see little reason to give you my attention, let alone my loyalty." Salem calmly refuted, black power flowing down her arm.
"You will regret this." Faramir winced at another spike of pain, but he held his ground.
Salem smiled. "No, I believe I will enjoy this."
She swept her arm, and the power lashed out as a whip; Faramir took the blow to his chest, flinging him aside just like the humans minutes earlier. Only a muffled grunt left him when he fell into a bush, knocking loose a brief cloud of dying leaves. The inhuman woman watched his fall, keeping a half turned smirk.
"What a puny god. How could this pitiful being have forged the Grimm?" she wondered aloud, giving her formerly injured arm an inspective glamce. "Oh well, now I have nothing left between myself and Ozpin."
Salem turned to prowl towards the inner courtyard, where the headmaster was dragged from the fighting. Before she crossed a few paces however, a groan caught her attention. Her black eyes hovered over the blonde, noting how pathetic she looked now. Curled up with her hands clutching her chest, one leg stretching out to rejoin its idly squirming counterpart, the blonde looked so much like a fallen infant. Over countless centuries Salem had pondered how such pathetic creatures endured for as long as they had, and even after all this time she so few answers.
A fresh groan, louder and far more annoying than before, made up the dark lord's mind. Flowing towards the blonde, she harrumphed in what seemed like disappointment.
"You can't even stand now, can you? Have you truly exhausted all of your strength, or are you hanging on to a misguided hope of mercy?" stopping over her, the girl curled in on herself more. "Absolutely pathetic. You can't even muster the dignity to die on your-"
Something tiny was flung from the girl's hand, a weak underarmed toss from ground level. Salem found her eyes tracking the small object, only realizing what the vial was centimeters away from contacting her body. Before the shadowy power could form a barrier, the half empty canister of fire Dust impacted, and the notoriously volatile material exploded into a short lived fireball. It swiftly engulfed the woman's head in hungry flames, though its very nature snuffed the miniature inferno out in mere seconds.
Recoiling from the vanishing flames, Salem coughed as she waved the fumes out of her face, revulsion written all over her expression. With her eyes squinted, she barely detected the human sized mass flying right into her milliseconds before Yang slammed into her, latching her hand and legs onto her body. Snarling, the woman moved to tear this girl off her, and backhand her as she had several times now. But unlike the other attempts, the human beat her to the punch.
Salem gasped, her entire body twitching as she froze. Her greater weight kept her upright even as her weight settled on her chest, securely hanging on with no intention of letting go. For the first time in generations, true emotion was on her expression; surprise at her second wind, anger for the underhanded attack, and now, raw fear. The cause was obvious.
There was a knife sticking out of her throat, the sharp edge buried in her jugular.
It was a simple utility blade, available anywhere in the Four Kingdoms for a few lien, with the sharpened metal coated in fire Dust, and the leather covered handle enclosed by Yang's right hand. Millimeters from each other's faces, the blonde grinned in primal satisfaction.
"Gotcha." Yang said, ripping the knife across Salem's throat.
Black ichor spewed out, coating the girl's fist immediately as the woman thrashed. Yang jumped away as fast she could, hearing something begin to sizzle ominously. When she landed and stumbled, she glanced to her hand and gasped; the stuff was dissolving into her flesh, burning away her skin and weapon from contact alone. Frantic wiping did little besides spread the corrosive ichor to her other hand, the pain reaching a new crescendo. Crying out did nothing, the blonde's wide eyes locked onto her burning hands. The ichor ate through her flesh as if it weren't there, acrid wisps rising to make her cough raggedly.
She was hardly watching Salem writhe and sway, coughing in panicked gulps while she clutched her bleeding throat, even as the stuff boiled down the front of her chest. She pawed at the knife left in place, finally succeeding in slapping the offending object away, although by this point it was far too late.
Yang fell to her knees just as Salem collapsed, slowly turning her quivering expression away from her scoured hands. The woman hit the ground and thrashed, her mindless jerking slowing while she watched. As she grew still, her body was decaying into formless matter, seeming to break down everywhere rather than start from any one point. Only her robe remained intact, the fabric bubbling as its owner disintegrated.
But as the ash spread ever further, a black mass seemed to rise from her corpse, swirling in the air above her. It was a translucent cloud of shadow, flowing to its own accord as opposed to moving with the wind. Blinking, she watched the mass start to rise... then unexpectedly twitch.
The periphery of the cloud was being drawn away, causing the rest of the shadows to twitch like an agitated beast. Yet more of the clouds joined the captured essence, swirling in on itself into a shrinking locale. Despite her agony Yang watched in awe, jaw hanging open at the cloud was drawn into a glowing yellow dot hanging in the air, the shadowy mass forming a roiling sphere around the light. For a second she thought she saw the outline of an enraged face in the smoke, but she couldn't tell for sure before the last of it floated, or was sucked, into the condensed sphere.
Two circular panes of glass floated beside the newly created black orb, curling inwards to form a pair of convex shapes, which clamped together to enclose the shadows. There was a flash of light which circled the new sphere, and then the sealed ball dropped into an open palm. The air shuddered in a weak yet far reaching rumble, almost as if the world itself skipped a beat.
Jaw hanging open, Yang saw the hand lift the sphere up to the light, inspecting the roiling darkness encased within. With a grunt, the girl nodded.
"This will work." she said to herself.
"Wha... how...?" was all the dumbstruck blonde could say to the event. The horned girl glanced away from her new prize, examining the injured survivor with a disinterested eye.
Bael Moss merely swiped a hand at her. "Sleep."
Yang dropped like a stone, unconscious before she hit the ground. Nodding in dull satisfaction, Bael turned to stride away from the hard won fight without a look back. She ignored the injured girls and Salem's body, passing through the open courtyard at a brisk pace. All the while she examined her prize, letting the sunlight play off the ever changing interior of the prison.
A short distance away the horned girl was joined by her companions, one reforming into a solid form of a tall young man in black, the other in a red and white outfit daintily skipping, both going to Bael's side. The fact the latter was splattered with black gore didn't seem to matter to any of the interlopers.
"So, what's the word?" asked Ron, peering at the last girl smirking in anticipation while her arms swung.
"We're done here." Bael replied, the mismatched pair falling into lockstep with her. "King is removed from the board, and Queen will follow suit shortly. Two of the three primary objectives have been fulfilled, and three of the eight secondary objectives have been met." she smiled, massaging her newest acquisition. "We even managed to eliminate Subject Fifty Seven. I wondered where that demonic creature escaped to."
"Aw, I liked the cursed lizard monster." Ram said unhappily, wiping a splotch of blood away from her mouth.
"Drakid." Ron corrected.
"Lizard monster. It sounds better." she corrected back.
"Regardless, even if we fail to nab a designated subject, this operation is hereby a conditional success." Bael announced, softly grinning with the orb in her hand.
"Awesome!" the girl in white pumped a fist in victory.
"Good haul." the man in black nodded with a smile.
"Agreed. Now its time to wrap things up." she turned her head, pocketing the sphere. "Ron, head to the NID office in Colorado Springs. Ransack their files and find whoever's after Sandra and Alley Hammond. Take Neo with you when you have the information, she should be rested by then."
"Gotcha." at her command, the lanky man in black turned to stride away, and Bael switched to her other partner.
"Ram, I want you to go to Haven and terminate Watts, Hazel, and Lionheart." she ordered crisply.
The horned girl creaked her head to the side. "Thought you wanted to keep him around?"
"His assistant is far more competent, and is open to our bribes. The good headmaster is no longer required." she explained, passing by the tree Weiss laid under without a glance. "When you're done, find Taurus and get rid of him. Try to make it look like an accident." she stressed the last line, a hint of a frown on her face.
"Will do." Ram smiled, grinning unseemly at the command. At least for a second, until a puzzled frown crossed her. "One thing though."
"Yes?" Bael questioned.
"What about the runt? He knows too much." she frowned, nodding in the direction of the gates.
Following her direction, Bael saw the topic of discussion: Oscar Pine was still where she left him, standing alone at the entranceway with his sword in hand. The boy yelled with every swing of the blade she gifted him, using his hastily taught skills to keep the Grimm back. It was a one man stand worthy of praise, the mere human succeeding in holding off any reinforcements Salem had summoned.
"Haven't decided yet. Although..." she pursed her lips in thought, briefly rubbing her jaw.
"Well if you want a new pet, I'm okay with it. The big guy could use a pal." Ram shrugged with raised hands, winking at her suggestively.
"I'll think of something. Now get going." she waved a hand in an apparent dismissal, and Ram took off in a separate direction. Bael continued to close in on the human, mentally weighing the pros and cons of taking on another stowaway.
