Disclaimer: We as a collective intelligence do not own any major part of Rooster Teeth or RWBY. All rights and reserves go to their respective owners and Monty Oum.
Unfamiliar Light
At first it was just a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. However, before long its presence became more forward and constantly interrupted his stream of thoughts.
Something didn't feel the same about Drake's daily routine of cleaning his weapons, distilling clean water and gathering news on the criminal underworld. Even when Drake dedicated all of his focus on a little extra metalwork on the same day, the feeling was still there. It took the whole of the day, but the black-haired mercenary eventually realised that it was a familiar buzz of emotions – or more accurately the lack of a certain buzz of emotions. Something was missing from the routine that he couldn't quite place his finger on.
Settling in for another long night while making sure Abraham didn't cause too much trouble – which was oddly simple as Abraham was being unusually compliant, Drake eventually realised what was missing.
His partner, Nicole.
He missed her.
No matter how hard Drake tried, he couldn't fathom any logical reason why he would miss the presence of the platinum-blonde girl other than the fact that he somewhat enjoyed her presence.
It may have confused him to no end, but more than anything, it worried him because it meant that he was getting attached to someone.
The reason that came to the mercenary that made the most sense was that he was simply not used to living in such a familiar setting without his partner. Therefore, the only way for the feeling to diminish was for Drake to simply tough it out.
However, as the second day started, the feeling was still there and had not diminished. These things take time...just give it time. Letting out a sigh, Drake just decided to let the feeling stay since it didn't seem to be impairing his judgement or actions. Rising off his mattress, the mercenary quickly checked the time to confirm that the sun still hadn't risen.
Looking to his right, Abraham still seemed to be in slumber while only twisting slightly in his sleep. Drake considered this a good start to the day as he mentally prepared to head out and complete another assignment today just so that he and Abraham would have enough money to comfortably move to Mistral for as long as they needed.
No. There was no they or them. There was only him.
Why does that sound so lonely?
Besides, Drake had some messy work that needed to be done in neighbouring Kingdom, and he was sure that the former Huntsman-trainee wouldn't want a part of it.
They had to work quickly; once the possibility of escaping presented itself, they would need to ensure that the sequence of events fell into place as smoothly as possible.
Even though he was quite confident in his equipment's capabilities, Drake performed one last weapon check – as well as going over his latest piece of equipment – before waking Abraham up.
With another bowl of soggy grain and some vitamin tablets, the mercenary nudged Abraham awake before leaving his breakfast next to the mattress. He gave Abraham time to regain his bearings as he moved to boot up his computer to log in to the bounty board that was established on the underground network.
It may not have been as easily accessible as the local Vale network, but the unnamed underground network of digital information definitely spread further and contained more data than anything the Vale network could cobble together. Since the powers of the world hadn't found a way to link the various networks across Remnant, each Kingdom had its own official and unofficial network of local information that needed to be manually updated, especially when data on the neighbouring Kingdoms was concerned.
The use of the networks was often strictly for professional use only; keeping track of stock, broadcasting news, as well as advertising job offers. While it was often advised that trained Huntsmen only take up missions and assignments provided by the different governments, Drake had learnt very early on when taking up the job as a mercenary that it wasn't the only way a Hunter could pick up an assignment. Private groups or people that needed someone skilled to get a specific job done could put details of the job on the network and just wait until a mercenary or a Huntsman picked up the offer.
The major difference being that anyone could pick up the job and get paid for it, so long as it satisfied their employer.
Drake had to quickly give Abraham a rundown of how the system worked before he was willing to cooperate and compromise on an assignment to go on, much to Drake's displeasure.
'Right, so we just have to choose a mission and contact the person that put it up there, right?' Abraham asked for confirmation as his eyes scanned over the computer screen.
'If they want us to contact them – some assignments just require us to drop off the body at a certain location at a certain time of day.' Drake said with a neutral look, while the mention of that type of work seemed to make Abraham shiver ever so slightly.
'I told you, I'm not going to help you murder innocents – and that includes kidnapping.' Abraham snapped, making his point clear.
'Fine,' Drake said with a shrug. 'If it gives you cold feet, we won't do it – there are plenty of jobs to pick from.' He said while trying to conceal his annoyance towards the blonde. 'How about this one? It's an escort job.'
'Escorting a truck load of illegal drugs? I think not.' Abraham replied with some bite to his tone.
Nicole was never this difficult. Drake thought to himself as they continued to search through the list of assignments that paid enough and anyone could simply pick up. I really hope this doesn't take long.
The black-haired mercenary's assumptions were wrong, as they spent a good portion of an hour arguing over which assignments were ethically acceptable by Abraham and which would provide either of them enough money to last a week in Mistral – plus the travel fare. This only served to make their task more difficult, as many of the assignments were under tight time constraints and had deadlines that were simply impossible for them to complete, narrowing their window even further.
'What about that one?' Drake suggested for what had to be the fifteenth time, pointing at the summary of an assignment without actually looking at it.
Abraham actually took a moment to read more than just the first two sentences, which was a good sign to Drake. After a few seconds of silent reading, Abraham replied. 'Yeah, sure. Why not.'
The mercenary couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief at that, but as soon as he read the details of the assignment himself, he could have sworn that his blood had frozen solid.
'No, we are absolutely not doing that one!' Drake suddenly felt very numb from the thought of what that assignment entailed.
Abraham seemed to pick up on Drake's frantic nature and scoffed lightly. 'What's the matter, got some history with them? I mean, I don't like them either but the pay looks good.'
'The pay always looks good whenever Schnees are involved.' Drake spat, not meaning to sound like it was directed towards Abraham. 'Most mercenaries have a policy when working with Schnees: we don't.'
'Why? Something else I want to know about the Schnees?' Abraham asked as his curiosity grew.
Drake had to let out another sigh as he mentally prepared himself to dive into another explanation. 'The rumours are…sketchy at best, but word is that most of the time when the SDC posts jobs like this issuing large amounts of money while asking for complete discretion, the people that take up the job don't come back.'
There was a pause for a moment as the black-haired teen let the words sink into Abraham before he broke it. 'Wait, what do you mean "don't come back"? Like, they die?'
'No, worse.' Drake muttered quietly. 'It's like they never existed. Their bodies are never found and the rumour is that the SDC even makes their record slowly disappear.'
Another cold silence passed over the two as Drake continued to read the details of the assignment. Contact this number…absolute cooperation required…discretion until potential employee accepts terms of agreement…definitely sounds like one of those contracts.
Suddenly, Abraham spoke up with a renewed passion in his voice. 'Well, maybe if we take up the job, we'll find out why freelancers that work with the SDC…disappear.'
'N-no, we can't risk it.'
'Drake, it's clear the Schnee Dust Company are up to something-'
'You don't understand, the people that disappear often take completely different assignments.'
'Well, maybe they're connected somehow.'
'We have no idea what we'll be facing.'
'Neither do they.'
'Why do you care?' Drake snapped at Abraham, catching the blonde by surprise. 'Why do you care so much what happened to freelancers like me that are already dead?' Drake wasn't sure if it was the constant fear that there may actually be things worse than death, or if it was the anxiety of having it served to him by the Schnees that made him snap, but the mercenary definitely raised his voice out of fear – not anger.
'Do you really want to know why I want to take up that job?' Abraham began quietly. Letting out a soft sigh and resting his weight on the table, the dirty-blonde continued. 'It's because the Schnee Dust Corporation has been a pain in my arse for as long as I can remember.'
Opening his mouth to continue, Abraham suddenly paused and gave Drake a quizzical look. It took a moment, but the black-haired mercenary realised that he was giving the blonde a curious raised eyebrow. Gesturing with his hand to continue, Abraham took a moment to find the words he wanted to speak.
'Most of my life, I fought to uphold the ideals that the Huntsmen Academies were built upon. When I was old enough, I started dabbling in a bit off…unofficial reconnaissance on how the SDC handled their Faunus employees.' With a pause, Abraham's eyes focussed on nowhere at the floor. 'The chaps weren't treated any better than slaves. However, without much money to my mouth I couldn't do anything to stop what the SDC were doing…well, nothing legal anyway.' This piqued Drake's interest as it explained how they first met. 'Now, I'm just an outlaw – I can choose to follow the law if I want. Considering that, I'd do anything to get some dirt on the SDC and expose them for the tyrants they are.' His silver eyes met Drake's, bearing a fiery passion that the mercenary found somewhat unnerving. 'Do you understand?'
The mercenary had to stop to let the cogs in his mind think of a solution to what to do next. What Abraham said triggered something in Drake that made him realise that they really were more alike than he'd like to give credit to. As righteous as Abraham made himself out to be, in this moment he was a man on a mission with an enemy in mind – just like him.
No, not just like me. He doesn't have what it takes to end his enemy. Drake tried to reason. And yet, some small righteous part of him agreed with what Abraham wanted to accomplish. Four years of mercenary work had done little to squeeze out the good in him, but time in the criminal underworld had taught Drake how to tuck it away where it would never see the light of day. On rare occasions such as this, however, it peeked out of its hiding place. They are offering a lot of money…
With a reluctant sigh, Drake turned away from Abraham and turned to face the computer. 'Well then, I hope you're ready for anything the Schnees' might want us to do.' Drake reaffirmed, causing Abraham to give a wide grin while Drake wasn't looking. 'I'll send them a message back for confirmation on where they want us to meet, you should get ready for a long day. Nicole, I want you to-' the mercenary froze as he found that his thoughts had slipped into his words as well.
Trying to act like nothing was wrong, Drake finished typing up the message and sent it before turning to face Abraham. 'There, shouldn't be long now.'
However, it didn't seem like Abraham was going to drop that little slip anytime soon. 'Do you miss her?' Abraham asked with an innocent curiosity.
The problem was that Drake didn't know how to answer that question, for all the useless information he may have known. Instead, he kept quiet while he moved over to his worktable.
'You know, if you wanted to send her a message, I could show you how to send a quick message to the touchpad that Beacon probably gave her. It'd just take your computer.'
Spinning on his foot at the sound of his computer notifying him that he had received a message, Drake marched back to the console without looking at Abraham. 'I'll think about it.'
The message was from an anonymous, untraceable source, but the mercenary knew who it was from. Making a mental note of the time and place that their client wanted to meet them, Drake moved back over to his worktable after turning off the computer to grab his equipment – overlooking how suspicious it was that the SDC had replied to their message within a minute of it being sent.
'You know, she really does seem to care about you. It only seems right that you should return-'
'Can we please not talk about Nicole.' Drake said as he stopped walking entirely. Abraham bent down to pick up his hat from where it lay next to his mattress, but never broke eye contact with Drake as he felt his conviction to hold back his secrets slipping. 'I just…it doesn't feel the same without her.'
'Do you care about her?'
'…I shouldn't.'
'That's not an answer.' Abraham had a look of clear resolve in his eyes as he stared down Drake.
'We really should be going soon.' The mercenary said in a weak attempt to change the subject.
'Not until I get an answer.'
'Again, why do you care so much?' Drake asked, expecting another exquisite response. However, Abraham just shrugged. Letting out a small groan the mercenary fixed him with a firm look. 'Yes, which is what worries me.'
The former Hunter-trainee let his head bob back and forth in understanding before walking over to where his equipment laid spread out on the table. 'We'll talk more when we get back.' He chirped. 'Do you really think the SDC has something horrible in mind for us?' he inquired suddenly.
'Maybe, but it's like you said.' Drake said as he picked up the new mask that he had been working on all day yesterday. Modified from the foundation of a simple gas mask, Drake was able to make it sleeker and compatible with the implant in his spine. Putting the mask to his face, he felt the familiar pieces of metal lock it into place, and while it wasn't as flashy as the Sabre mask, it would have to do. '-they've never dealt with anything like us before.' He said, though his voice was only slightly muffled. Gotta install the voice manipulator later.
Grabbing a face scarf that stuck out of one of his chests, Drake tossed it at Abraham. 'Cover your face – it goes with the freelancer appeal, outlaw.'
It happened quickly.
Once the snipers got into position, Vicitor barely had enough time to react to the bullet that flew straight at him. The shooters were really the only ones at fault for Vicitor being able to survive the attempt on his life, for the sniper that took the shot was the third to fire his rifle.
The second that separated the first and third shot was enough time for the cult leader to heighten his senses and dodge the bullet.
After several more bullets, arrows and crossbow bolts were let loose on some less fortunate members of the Old Eclipse, all hell seemed to break loose in the small village.
Airships flew in from the distance with the sun at their back, making them hard to see. When they were close enough, they began firing all their weapons at anything that moved in the village. Some slowed to a hover above the ground to release soldiers with heavy Dust weaponry that tore through both body armour and flesh with ease.
All the while, ignoring the cries from his followers and children to seek shelter, Father Vicitor stood aghast and disgusted at the soldiers attacking his family.
I thought they would have been here sooner…and bring fewer forces… Making a mental note to question his spy as to how warriors from the Kingdom of Vale had found the village in the first place, Vicitor bent his knees and got into a battle stance before drawing large circles around his body with his arms, seeming to drag the darkness around him with them.
Soon, shards of crystallized darkness formed around him and joined together to make a spear that he hurled straight at one of the flying airships.
The spear pierced straight through one of the ship's engines and caused it to plummet to the ground where it crashed on top of an abandoned hut.
'Get the rest of my children – the battle has come.' Vicitor turned to bark the order at one of the cult's priests – wearing the signature blood-red robes – before swinging an arm that turned into a black, barbed stinger for a moment in order to deflect a bullet that was aimed at his head. 'Order the rest of the soldiers to cover us.'
Nodding quickly, the priest ran off while constantly using the bone-white shield that he carried to protect himself. Ignoring the fighting around him, Vicitor marched over to where the mercenary, Raider, was currently fending off several attackers with his double-bladed scythe weapon.
Allowing himself to appear out of a shadow behind one of the attackers, Vicitor caught them by surprise and quickly tore through their ranks, much to Raider's surprise.
'You fight well.' The cult leader complimented while licking the blood off his claws. 'But now it is time for me to demonstrate the strength of my family.'
Bending down to pick up the rifle of a dead soldier, the mercenary took a sidestep closer to Vicitor in order to dodge a stray shot.
'You really think these kids can beat back all these Judicators?' he asked sceptically while taking aim and shooting three oncoming soldiers with one bullet each.
At that moment, Sister Emily seemed to have arrived to answer Raider's question as she kicked down the body of a Faunus from Vale, with a large gash in his throat. 'It is not simply about defeating our enemy, but also about showing them our true strength.'
Looking back and forth as explosions rang out through the village, Raider turned to face Emily with a quirked eyebrow. 'Doesn't look like your "true strength" is showing yet.'
'Have patience, my friend. Sacrifice is a delicate art of war, and I intend to create a masterpiece.' He said as Emily started throwing several knives at what looked to be a giant of a paladin slowly approaching them. Each blade either bounced off the knight's greatshield or stuck to his thick armour – seeming to do little more than upset him.
The Huntsman hefted a long halberd with a curved, S-shape blade on one side in his left hand before tossing his shield to the side in exchange for less weight as he charged straight at Vicitor.
A smile crept over the cult leader's face as the heavily armoured Hunter charged straight at him, not bothering to get into a battle stance while finding some amusement at how tense Raider stood – ready to face the charging opponent that would never reach them.
From the roof of one of the huts, Wolf descended on the man with the speed of a hawk diving at a startled mouse. Pouncing on top of the man, the half-Grimm sunk his claws straight through the armour and sent the giant skidding across the ground.
The paladin didn't let out so much as a growl before Wolf changed one of his claws into the stinger of a Deathstalker and plunging it into the man's exposed neck. Immediately after making sure that the Hunter would no longer be able to draw breath, Wolf quickly walked over to Vicitor, firing shards of Grimm Dust at anyone he saw.
'Shall I dispose of the Humans, Father?' Wolf asked in his deep, growl-like voice.
'Maybe next time, Wolf. For now, see what your brothers and sisters are capable of.' Vicitor said as he gestured to a pair of teenagers bearing the symbol of the cult. One was a boy whose upper body was completely covered up by a black hoodie with shiny-black armour covering his legs.
Next to him – and holding his hand, was a more timid girl wearing a black and red frilly lace blouse and skirt with silver high heels to add to her height. Her black hair was tied up into a bun on her head and she seemed to be cowering behind the stoic boy as soldiers poured out around them and formed a circle around them.
'Those kids are gonna die!' Raider exclaimed, however before he could take a step forward, Emily stuck a hand in front of him to stop him.
'You may want to cover your ears.' Emily warned as they saw one of the soldiers pull out a pair of handcuffs and attempt to separate the two teens.
Yanking the girl and boy apart, a shrill screech suddenly pierced the air and caused the soldiers to collapse to the ground, hands covering their ears or trying to remove their helmets. Not having heeded Emily's warning, Raider suffered the same torment as the soldiers, albeit the mercenary was handling it better.
As Vicitor had expected, the cry not only affected everyone around them, but also seemed to have the effect of agitating Wolf into a state of aggressive growls and snarls. With the soldiers incapacitated, the boy drew out what looked like a wooden branch from his pocket and began dragging it through the air, tearing holes that opened out into darkness in the air around him.
Once he was done tearing open his forth rift, the teen in the hoodie worked quickly to grab the screaming girl next to him and pulled her aside. Within seconds, Grimm started pouring in through the rifts while the boy seemed to be trying to calm the girl down.
'Steady yourself, Wolf.' Vicitor warned by placing his hand on the half-Grimm's shoulder. 'You'll get your chance soon enough.' With the soldiers still incapacitated, they were easy prey for the Grimm that fell out of the portals – constantly drawn towards the screaming girl.
The black creatures were almost upon the two when another boy came rushing down the path. He wore a black T-shirt and a pair of long black leather pants, with his moon-pale hair slicked back. His metal-sole boots hit the ground hard as he rushed by the horde of Grimm, running straight towards the two other teenagers – touching every Grimm he passed.
Skidding to a stop in front of the two, he held out both of his hands and every Grimm he touched instantly began to slow down to a stop. Clenching both of his hands into tight fists, the Grimm that stopped suddenly began attacking the others that weren't under his enchantment.
Before long, all that stood in front of the three teenagers in black was a group of Grimm that were each trying to do their best to bow down to the enchanter, who slowly lowered his arms to the ground just before the rifts in the air sealed up and the last of the girl's screams died down.
'Behold,' Vicitor spoke while gesturing to the three children who were meandering their way towards them through the Grimm. '-the power that my children poses.'
When they were close enough, the girl broke away from the other two and ran into the arms of their leader, burying her face in his chest. While he chose to ignore it, Vicitor was also sure to speak to Emily later, as she glared at her Sister with disdain. 'Did our performance please you, Father?' The teleporter – and older of the two boys – asked with an eager zeal in his eyes that his neutral expression did not match.
'Very much so, Nathaniel.' Vicitor complimented while laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. 'You all did exceptionally well.'
'Hate to be that one douchebag, but we're still under attack.' Raider said just before someone fired a rocket in their direction. Acting on instinct, Raider quickly stepped forward and destroyed the rocket with the flick of his scythe blade in one hand, before quickly shooting the rocketeer with the assault rifle in his other hand.
'Has your companion taken care of the snipers?' Vicitor asked, which Raider responded to by placing a hand to his ear and nodding quickly. 'Good. Surely more heard my sweet Madeline's cry for help.'
'More? More what?' Raider asked, thoroughly tired of all the strange stuff he had seen today.
As if on cue, several loud howls suddenly filled the air from all around the village. Smiling, Father Vicitor turned to face Raider as the bounty hunter levelled his rifle as if searching for a target. 'More Grimm.'
Across the village, other battles were being fought in a similar manner, with the cult's gifted children easily overpowering the Judicators, soldiers from the Vale army and even some of the Huntsmen. Off to one corner, Andrew kept to the second floor window of a house as he watched a group of Huntsmen through the smudged lenses of his mask.
They had stopped in reaction to the sounds of Beowulves approaching, and that was the way he wanted them: distracted. Running his hand down either sleeve of his black outfit caused several symbols to light up like a flame as his hands grasped around their own individual whirlwind of smoke.
Throwing one directly at each individual, he watched as they choked and struggled to breathe before taking his time at making his way down the stairs to the ground floor. Approaching the first choking Huntress, Andrew withdrew one of the syringes in his belt and stabbed it into the woman's neck, emptying its contents in one fluid motion.
He didn't stop to watch her spasm uncontrollably as he performed the same treatment to the other Huntsman. It was only when he reached the forth Hunter did Andrew encounter resistance as the Hunter's hand shot out to grab his hand before he could jab the needle into the man's neck.
Pulling another syringe out of his belt, Andrew quickly twirled it in between his fingers before trying to stab the Huntsman with it. His movements were too slow as the Huntsman dodged backwards while throwing two hand grenades his way.
They rolled along the ground for a moment before Andrew's delayed muscle spasms kicked in and he swept both of them away with two sweep kicks. They were only meant to distract the puppeteer, however, as the Huntsman readied a flashbang and held onto it just long enough so that when he threw it, Andrew didn't have time to stop it before it exploded.
The flare in his face temporarily disorientated the puppeteer as he didn't see the Hunter charging straight at him, sweeping him off his feet with a textbook body slam.
It took a moment, but Andrew quickly found his footing and rooted himself to the ground with almost inhuman stopping force. The Hunter was only left with being able to deliver several punches that only seemed to make Andrew flinch, taking a step backwards every three punches. It didn't matter to him though, as he watched with calculated interest as the Huntsman's punches slowed in speed. Andrew returned the attack with several attempts to stab one of the syringes in either hand into the Hunter, each time being blocked or ducked under by what could only be a very well-trained Huntsman.
In a last, desperate attempt to finish off his opponent, the Hunter quickly grabbed the pike of one of his companions and drove it through Andrew's chest to the hilt. It seemed to have worked as the puppeteer slid down onto his knees, but when his guard was dropped, Andrew sprung and jabbed a syringe into the man's neck.
The Hunter let out a defeated cry as he sank to his knees while Andrew rose back to full height, pike still sticking out of his back as black powder seeped out of the open wound. However, the Hunter did something unexpected that caught Andrew off guard.
Laughing suddenly, the Hunter lifted one hand with stiff motion – holding a live grenade in it.
'If we go, so do you.' He said, and the last thing that Andrew remembered seeing was the flock of Nevermores closing in on the village before everything burst into a shower of dirt and stone.