Allwarden47: Thanks for the review. Actually, I'm already working on a book. I hope to finish it this year :)
A Flying Tomato: what can I say? I like paying homages to classics. ;) And that was also the one piece of literature with clear examples on how something like that would go, apart from literature about African procedures. And that doesn't really fit with what I had in mind for that particular scene.
Tuutje07: he would. Every time.
"I don't care for your little opinions, this doesn't concern the Themeluesi. He is busy with keeping Remnant from breaking into a thousand little communities, so bugging him with one woman won't help anyone. For the record…I know. I know why Operative Rose defected, I know why subject Brimstone hasn't contacted her even though they had the same goal and I know why their daughters need to be kept safe. But you forget something, Yale. You forget that your job is breaking things, while mine is fixing things. That's something you and Rose had in common; you both knew how to break things. But she couldn't stomach what she did and fled her responsibilities. You wouldn't do that, would you? No? Good. Everything has a reason, Field Commander. Even the mistakes made with Brimstone. The same goes for your low level of security. Rose fled because of her own part in things and her inability to make it right, while Brimstome is incapable of letting go. Their husband lives on, as do his daughters, and that is more than most of us can say. More than any of us can say. Now, you will swallow your feelings, follow your orders and go to Beacon. Fireteam Lima will arrive there shortly and Ozpin needs his representative before we can commit to further negotiations."
-conversation between Professor K. Greene and Field Commander Yale.
Beacon Academy, 15:22
"So how sure are you about this?" Yang asked Blake, cautiously looking around the hallway for anyone who might catch them snooping around.
"I have a nice answer and an honest answer."
"Nice one first?"
Blake nodded. "I am fairly sure about what we are doing."
"And the honest one?"
"Not at all."
Yang rolled with her eyes and groaned. "Sure. Why not. Nothing team RWBY does is certain."
"Technically speaking, it's not team RWBY."
"Oh you know what I mean."
Chuckling, Blake checked her scroll one final time. With everybody scurrying around to attend to business, finish homework or calm their friends and acquaintances, it was a perfect day to wrap up some…loose ends. Weiss had noticed how distressed Ruby had been after Johnson's lessons, opting to take her on an evening out in what was left of the city. Maybe even help look or Ash. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible for the complete team to leave the Academy grounds –both for security reasons as the fact that the officials had now learned to keep a close eye on their team. Luckily for them, there were plenty of things to do at Beacon as well.
It looked like all of team LACG was taking their turn fixing and upgrading the dropships. They wouldn't be back at their dorms for another twenty minutes. All the time in the world.
"So ae you worried?"
Yang looked at her. "Excuse me? For LACG?"
Blake smirked. "Of course not. You know…all the other things. Ash missing in town…CFVY hunting down Will?"
Her partner took a few moments to respond. Her otherwise cheerful attitude shifted and a dark look crossed her face. "The one thing that he wanted to be saved from was people going after him. I promised him that wouldn't happen. And then this happened."
"It's not your fault," Blake quickly said. "It's nobody's fault."
Yang made a sound that sounded a lot like a growl. "It looks awfully faulty to me. He goes running off to who-knows where to get himself hurt again, Coco looked like a psycho bitch preparing to take him out and there's not a thing I can do about this. Do you know how painful it is to be the strongest person of…pretty much the entire Academy, and still not being able to do anything?"
"I am starting to understand what that must feel like, yes," Blake replied. "Minus the strongest part. I ehm…you know him better than me, and I don't want to be crude about this, but being trained since the age of five does give you some advantages in combat."
"You're right."
"About the advantages?"
"About being crude." She sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. "I don't know what's worst; Ash risking being court-martialed for hurting innocent people, Coco going too far and actually maiming Will, or Will being pushed too far and killing her entire team."
"That's where we come in. If we find that DSM that Alessa…forgot…to hand to him, we can find out why he does what he does."
"But what do you think we'll find?" Yang loudly said, her words loud enough for Blake to wince.
"Keep it down, will you? And no, I don't have a clue as to what we'll find. You know more than I do."
"Right. Sorry…I don't really know how to…you know, deal. With things like this."
Blake placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her. It felt a bit like trying to gently push an adult Beowolf. "Yang, nobody could know how to deal with this. We're all trying to keep it together…and some of us just keep up the façade longer than others."
The blonde seemed to calm down somewhat. "I suppose so. That's why I'm glad that Weiss took Ruby to town; no teacher would suspect just the two of them."
"Y-yeah…sure." Keeping Yang in the dark about Ruby's relationship was all Blake could do to prevent a nasty older-sister-speech scene. "Can I…ask you a personal question?"
"Shoot."
"You…I know you've got a thing for Will."
Yang didn't answer her.
"And I also know that he's suffering from PTSD and other mental problems."
"Your point?"
"How are you going to deal with that?" Blake blurted out. "I mean, between Onyx and Atlas and Beacon, how will you help him?"
Her partner sighed deeply and groaned, albeit quietly. "I've been wondering the same thing. When I found out that he wanted to be saved…that I could be saved…I thought that I could ignore our problems. But that was just a childish fantasy, wasn't it? The problems keep adding up. I can't ask people to simply forget about everything."
"So?"
"So…we'll do the next best thing. Make him accept…and forget about the other people. That way, the other people can accept and forget as well."
Blake could feel her heart pounding. Was this the answer she had been looking for? "Is that it? Acceptance?"
"I'd like to think so. It helped with you and Weiss, and it helped with Cal and Lily." She paused. "Can I ask you a question now?"
"Of course."
"Why did you bring it up? This isn't the first time you've asked something like this."
Her throat felt very dry all of a sudden. Blake swallowed, wondering if she should come up with an excuse or simply go for the truth. Perhaps a bit of both. She was tired of having to lie. "I asked because…I don't think you're the only one going through this."
"I'd be surprised if I was."
"I-" Blake cut herself off, staring at her partner. "What?"
Yang smirked. It was really like watching Ruby being a smug little redhead. "I noticed, Blake. You started out sneaky, but you got careless."
She felt a blush appear on her cheeks. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You have a thing for girls."
"I don't-"
"And that explains why you're so fond of Alice."
"Will you keep your voice down?" Blake muttered again, starting to feel annoyed with the blonde. "I don't want the entire school to know. Yes, I like girls. So do other people. And yes, I'm fond of Alice, but that's not why I do this."
Yang simply looked at her with that smug expression on her face.
"Alright, not entirely. This is for your Operative, not mine. You know what will happen if we don't get this data back to where it belongs, so please stay focused!"
"Fine." Yang managed to stay quiet for a few precious seconds before she asked, "This explains why you snuck out to meet her on your own a few times. Like when we first met Miss Fetish-"
"Yang…"
"And I clearly remember her with you when we kicked Torchwick's ass during our investigation."
They reached the door that hid LACG's dorms. It looked like a perfectly-normal door, except that it was made out of wood. Suspicious-looking wood. With lots of fragments.
"I just remembered," Yang then said, upon seeing the suspicious door. "We're breaking into LACG's room."
"I know."
"LACG, as in the demolitions-expert, ex-cop, girl who sees everything and an Adamant."
"I know."
"Not the safest place to break into."
Blake swallowed. "Do you have anything else in mind, then?"
"Nope. So, let's get cracking, shall we?"
That sounded awfully like Yang was about to break down the door. "Listen, whatever you do, don't-"
Too late. Yang totally kicked the door in with a mighty stomp, blowing the suspicious wood out of its hinges and tripping about a hundred traps. Blake gave a cry of surprise and dragged the blonde with her to the ground when something round jumped up into the air and exploded, sending a hail of blistering bullets in a three-sixty radius around the room.
"Damnit Yang!" she cried. "What's wrong with you!"
Her partner grinned, looking about as innocent as Ruby when she was executing one of her master plans. "Look, no problems with the door, right? It's safe now."
As it turned out, LACG's room was anything but safe. The bouncing mine had been one of several traps that had been installed for people just like them; as soon as Yang stepped into the room, the closest jumped open and what looked like Grace's flamethrower started pouring flames down the room. Again Blake jumped away and sought cover and again Yang was oblivious to the pitiful attempt at harming her.
"Flames huh?" She said as she flexed her fingers. "That's the best they can do? Guard the door; I'll have that DMS in a jiffy."
"Be careful!" Blake told her, but her partner had already disappeared deeper into the dorms. For a room that was about four by four meters, it sure looked like a complicated headquarters. Yang set off another four traps, amongst which were a flashbang, a gas grenade and electrified tripwire. Even seasoned Huntresses would struggle wandering through the room unharmed, let alone two students.
Luckily, Yang was a particularly robust student. What her Aura didn't block, her sturdy physique did. It wasn't the first time that Blake wondered how a relatively normal-looking girl could possess such monstrous strength.
"Got it!" she eventually yelled.
"Great!" Blake yelled back, making sure that nobody was walking around the halls when she did. "Now come on, we're leaving."
"What are you doing?" a dull voice said, two inches away from Blake's left ear. She jumped in surprise and whirled around, pulling her weapon out in the process. "What –Jason!"
The ex-cop stood frighteningly-close to her, leaning against the left side of the hole that had once possessed a door. "It's Mauve," he corrected her. "No, it isn't. It's Jason," he then corrected himself.
"Why are you here?" Blake awkwardly asked.
"No kitty-cat. Question is: why are you here?" A new voice went, two inches away from Blake's right ear. Again she jumped, spun around and raised her weapon and again someone was standing way too close for comfort, leaning against the right side of the door.
"Lisa…why?"
Yang stuck her head through the door-hole and looked at the two LACG's. "Oh, hey guys. We were just looking through your stuff."
"Great," Jason said. "You're looking for something. Something that we are not allowed to know, so it's dangerous. Another sneaky RWBY adventure? Or are you looking for something that Matt left behind? No, Matt would have snuck down here himself. So Alessa's stuff then? Why?"
"I-"
"Not her weapons," Lisa interrupted them, wearing exactly the same passive-suspicious face as her Cho did. "She's allergic to Dust, so not rare crystals either. Something she procured during a mission…evidence? No, not enough related crimes in your team. Something Yang did then? A murder? And she knew? You worked together and now you want to snuff out the evidence? You evil woman."
"Lisa," Jason said without taking his non-blinking stare off of Blake, "that's retarded."
"Your face is retarded. So what do you want with Mauve's face?" she then asked Yang.
"Wrong conclusion, Adamant."
"Your face is a wrong conclusion."
"Actually, we were just about to leave," Blake said. "If you could continue your married-couple problems, that would be great."
The two LACG's blinked at the exact same time. "Not so fast," Lisa said. "What did you steal?"
"Nothing?" Yang hesitantly replied.
"Almost bought it. No, what did you take?"
Blake sighed and crossed her arms, but not before placing her weapon back. Weird as they were, Lisa and Jason weren't enemies. "Actually, we just took something back. Alice gave Alessa something that was meant for someone else, but she kept it."
"That evil woman," Lisa muttered. "She didn't even tell us that she had Onyx-goodies?"
"Not Onyx, remember?" Yang said.
"Right, sorry. Confusing."
Blake's levels of frustration were rising. "She was supposed to give it to Will, but she never did."
"Hm-hm," Jason said, crossing his arms as well. "And where is the evidence?"
Yang raised the black military-grade DSM without saying a word.
"I don't see any evidence," Lisa tried, but Blake had no patience for anything Adamant.
"Listen, we're doing this for your own good," Yang said, easily picking up on Blake's state of mind. "There's some nasty stuff in these files and if anyone were to find out, Will would go nuts. Onyx would get nuts too."
"So it's the greater good?" Jason suggested.
"No. And shut up. I'm going to be fair here; you guys don't care much for all of this Onyx-business, do you?"
"No."
"Hell no."
"Great. Our team has been working with words like "classified" and "Operative" before they suddenly got cool, so it's only fair if we get the data first, right?"
Yang had a point. Cho and Lisa had to see that.
"One problem," Jason then said. "You said this was supposed to go to Will. So what will you do with the DSM?"
That was actually a pretty good question. Bake had to be honest with herself; she didn't want anyone except for Ruby to find out what was on these files. They might be dangerous, they might contain information that would do more harm than good or there might even be damaging videos and images on them. If the wrong person found out first, whatever feeble peace was left in Beacon would be completely shattered.
"Information is a dangerous weapon these days," Lisa added. "And if there is one team specializes in information, it's us."
"Is that a threat?" Yang quietly said.
"We don't threaten, we make things happen. Look, I completely adore Ruby and I'm fine with all the things you're doing in Vale. I couldn't care less about all of that. But…given the sensitive nature of our mutual friends and the fact that my little biscuit can't even go to school properly-"
What was a little biscuit?
"-I'd like to speak for all the LACG's out there and say that any information that is important for Will, Alice, Blackwood or any one of those guys, is important for all of us."
Yang shrugged. "Can't disagree there."
"Then we'll let Ruby decide," Blake said. "If she thinks it's too dangerous to immediately share…"
"Behind the backs of your friends, Ozpin, Goodwitch, Matt and even that collection of sorrow and despair that calls itself Onyx?" Lisa said with a skeptical look on her face. "You'd withhold it?"
"Temporarily," Yang said with a beaming smile.
Jason and Lisa shared a look. "Alright."
Blake frowned. "Wait, just like that?"
"Sure," Lisa said. "Seeing how there is a roughly one complicated problem per first-year student, we've got plenty of things to work out. Dangerous terrorists?"
"Miss Fetish."
"Don't forget Blackwood and him not being dead."
"The little thing with Grace's parents."
"Vale being one big demolition site."
"The ruling faction in the Kingdom being up for debate?"
"Ironwood wanting to take control over the city and Beacon…"
"Alright, we get it," Yang stopped them. "Everything's bleak, we're all very depressed. Will you let us steal this thing or not?"
"Does this go on record as a victory against LACG?" Lisa asked.
"No."
"Then fine, take it. Take Jason's underwear too, while you're at it."
Blake shook her head. "We need to get going now…and you need to start taking things seriously."
"I'll get started on that right away," Cho said without pulling a muscle.
"I don't serious when I'm off-duty. I've got a Matt to survive, remember?"
"True that. Come on Blake, let's go."
The LACG's let them scurry off without trouble. Blake and Yang didn't dare speak until they had taken the long way back to the safety of their dorms, whereupon Blake grabbed her scroll, a Beacon laptop and a large cup of tea.
"That went easier than expected," Yang said, brushing her hair while watching Blake fumble around with the wires.
"All things considered, yes."
"I didn't think they would catch us. Or let us nick their stuff."
"The stress and worry is getting to them too."
"That's what Ruby would have said too."
Blake inserted the cable into the DSM and started looking poking around the files. It looked like Alessa had already decrypted them, but none of them had been opened before. Something must have pulled her away from the files in the brink of time.
"The scarf is gone…" Yang muttered, checking out the place where she stashed her stuff.
"Sorry?" Blake asked. The DSM had a good connection to the laptop and the files were already transferring.
"The scarf I left him…it's no longer here."
She sighed and looked away from the screen. "You're not making sense. What do you mean?"
Yang sat down on her bed and touched her own scarf, which was still wrapped around her neck. "When we came back from the North, I gave him one of my scarfs. You know, the orange ones."
"I know," Blake replied. She knew who Yang meant.
"I left it in that hangar bay as a gift. To remind him of our friendship and to keep him warm at night."
"Because that is the purpose of a scarf."
Yang smirked. "I wanted to do it myself, but that would have been weird."
"And dangerous."
"He never tried to hurt me."
"Not speaking about you."
Yang blinked once before continuing, wisely enough. "The next morning, it had returned to my other clothes. Stupidly folded and mostly untouched."
"He probably thought you lost it."
"My idea exactly. I never talked to him about it, but…"
"Now it is gone. You think he took it?"
"Who else in their right mind would sneak into our dorms and touch my stuff with me sleeping right on top of them?"
"You do look skimpy while sleeping."
"It's called pajamas."
Blake raised an eyebrow. "Why would he take your scarf and then run off to cause trouble?" Actually, she already knew the answer.
"Comfort?" Yang suggested. "Something familiar to him? Ruby has her cloak for the same reason. Well…whatever works for him."
"You don't care that he broke into your clothes and took something?"
"These are special times, Blake."
"Maybe." She looked back the laptop, where most of the files had now been copied. One particular word caught her attention, but she didn't know why. All she knew was that the room suddenly felt colder, and that she had the creeping sense that someone was watching her. "Yang…what is a Catalyst?"
Onyx training assignment "OPERATION FICKLE", 9 years ago.
"Hostiles to your six."
"Copy that, going dark."
Will shifted his binoculars to the right, where a pair of security guards was approaching from behind the wooden shack Alice was hiding in. He refrained from telling his partner what the two men were currently doing; their communication devices hadn't exactly survived the trip in a good state, and voices sounded very noisy when coming through the ear-plugs.
One of the guards lit up a cigar, while the other one watched the manor they were supposed to be guarding. Eventually, after a small minute, the smoking one dropped his cigar, stomped on it and walked away again.
"Don't they know smoking is bad?" Alice whispered through the comm.
"Someone should tell Miss Indigo that."
"I think she knows. She knows everything."
"Fine. The dogs are still ill; you should be able to sneak past them and get to the window."
"Across open ground? With these lights?"
There were more than a few spotlights scattered around the dark garden, yes. "You're fast. Remember what Dusk said?"
"Yeah yeah, use the lights, stick to the shadows, fine."
Their current mission was a tricky one. Because they had been winning all the games of hide-and-don't-get-shot of the last week, Sergeant Dusk had given them a hint n how to tackle this one. He had told them how to not get spotted when there were searchlights and he had told them which window would be weak.
And that was precisely why Will didn't trust the situation. Dusk NEVER helped them, ever. He did everything he could to make them fail. So Alice was going in, fully expecting an ambush or a trap.
"They could have moved the information. Listen to their conversations before moving."
"I know, I got it. Stick to taking out these guards."
Will sighed and pulled the dart-gun from its holster. He had exactly five darts to take out all the people who wanted to stop them, and that was including the Onyx teams sent to capture them. He wasn't very good in math, but even he knew that that wouldn't be enough.
"I don't want to waste my ammo."
"Oh cry me a river. I don't even have a knife."
He chuckled. "You're you. The world is your knife." From his vantage point in the tree, he watched another man walk around the shack to check out the fence. Only this one stopped and looked around the grass, where tiny footsteps were visible.
Will cringed; there weren't supposed to be tiny footsteps around the fancy mansion of a PMC celebrity. He had been running surveillance here for two days and there weren't any children.
The guard seemed to agree. He shone his flashlight at the footsteps, reached for his communication device-
-only to stiffen and reach for the nape of his neck, where a small dart stuck out from his skin. He fell flat on his face without making a fuzz, much to Will's amusement. So even trained guards with powerful Aura could be sneak-attacked with paralyzing darts? Interesting.
He vowed to remember that Aura did not necessarily protect against attacks you were unaware about and jumped out of the tree, rolling two times to come to a good stop. He missed rolling around grass.
The unconscious guard was very heavy; Will had to use all his strength to haul his body to the shack, where he opened the door and dumped him. He wasn't panting though; Sergeant Dust had trained them to be good at moving without getting tired. He also taught them how to fight, but they weren't yet good enough to face trained adults. Not yet. Maybe Blackwood was, but he was two years older so that didn't count.
"Alice, hurry! They're finding things!" he hastily told the girl.
She didn't respond. That couldn't be a very good thing. She hadn't been caught, had she?
Will went back to the tree and, after the familiar problems with being too small to climb things, managed to kick himself off of the bark and reach the lowest branch. He then pulled himself up, just like in the exercises, and belly-flopped on top of the branch.
Four darts left and no Alice anywhere. He reviewed the mission objectives for himself, as he had the tendency to completely forget important things. Scout out the area before covering teammate…check. Protecting against guards and infiltrate…check. Steal important dossier from man with big ego and escape alive…working on it. Escape from the manor and avoid Onyx patrols…one step at a time.
Three minutes later, Will began to feel somewhat worried. Alice was gone a long time…and adult people would do bad things to young people. If she was caught, they would have to burn down the house. That would be too bad, because it had a lovely tree.
He didn't risk contacting her again. Instead, he let the radio stay dead and jumped out of the tree. There were a few basic things required for making a fire: heat, air and stuff that burned good. Air was everywhere, heat was easy to get and everything burned if you had the patience. Things like…a shack, for example. Close to the house, close to the tree and made out of wood. Good enough.
Will pulled the unconscious man out again and made sure that he wouldn't burn too badly before waking up. Then, he went to work. They had received standard survival kits to last for a few days when isolated from help and in one such kit, he had a little stick with which he make sparks. The knife that the guard carried with him was sharp enough to make good tinder, which he could spread out in the center of the shack. Equipment burned as well, as did clothes. Everything in the shack could burn.
Within a few minutes, he had a good fire going. He went to the manor next, breaking into Alice's window and tracking the route that she would have taken. They hadn't noticed the fire yet, but they would soon. He could smell the smoke so they could too.
Not hearing the footsteps until it was almost too late, Will opened a door and promptly bumped face-first into something very small and very solid. It was dark and he was in a bit of a hurry, so he was already punching it when he noticed that it was too short to be a bad person. Also, it was punching him back harder than he was punching it.
"Will!" Alice hissed at him. She brushed a strand of dark hair out of her face and looked over her shoulder. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be covering me!"
Well then. "I… thought you were captured. I made a distraction to get you out."
"Stupid! And what distraction?"
The distraction at that point had turned into a mildly-uncontrollable fire that was about to consume the rest of the area around the manor. Seeing as how Alice had stolen the dossiers they were supposed to get, there was no reason for them to stick around.
So they left. They left the PMC manor of the important man and his armed guards and his big, scary dogs and left with the papers. The fire they had started was enough to preoccupy the people na dburn their house to the ground, but that was a good thing. It involved the police and the fire-people and even ambulances and that was all the more reason to not stick around; they still had to take the dossiers to something called "exfil".
Exfil was a strange thing. It meant rescue, but also trouble. Exfil had costed them victory before, because they would leave their guard down at the last possible moment and that was where Onyx would hurt them with ambushes and other things.
But this time, they dodged the men that Onyx had sent to capture them. And they made it to exfil without being hurt, with the dossiers of the PMC man.
It was a mission successful.
"So what now?" Alice asked in the dropship back to base. "This was easy, I mean."
"Dusk doesn't like easy. He will make this harder."
"I hope Indigo teaches us how to be independent for longer soon."
"I just want to learn to fight like Blackwood does."
Alice giggled. She never did that. "I hope they don't. I want to learn how to use knives better."
After this successful mission though, their training changed. And their mission changed to fit in with what they did and saw. They stopped being tests of what they knew and could, staged with people who wouldn't kill them. The PMC manor became their last proofed mission; no more safeties and no more guarantees. A few weeks later they received their official names, and that was that. Trainee became Operative, kid became soldier and Alice and Will became things of the past.
Over the many months that followed after that last assignment, Operative Greystone came to wonder where the thin line had been placed. The line between stealing papers from sleepy people and jogging through warzones, dodging bullets and shrapnel and fallen bodies.
On the fateful day that they became official Operatives, the loss of their names was made less painful by cool new suits. Specially-prepared, cool-looking sets of armour. They were going to look like Blackwood, whom they had never worked with before. They were going to start saving mankind.
On that day, when they were both finally eleven years old, Operative Greystone stopped thinking about childish things like lines and names. They were finally going to start! They were going to start saving mankind! That meant curing wars and making threats go away.
Their suits had pieces of armour, storage places for munition and an armoured backpack and more knife-slots than Alice could ever wish for.
Then, finally, the three of them were gathered in the same place that Professor Greene had taken them, all those years ago, It felt like a lifetime ago.
Operatives Greystone, Mantis and Blackwood stood at rigid attention, facing a row of bright spotlights. But they had amazing helmets with dark visors that blocked the lights. That was useful, because they would have been blinded otherwise.
"Onyx Operatives, code-named Two-Oxfords, are Remnant's natural immune system."
Greystone remembered that lesson. How the body killed bacteria and parasites that would hurt you with its own system of cells and defenses. He didn't like the comparison, but he didn't know why.
"We protect," the three of them droned at the same time. They knew the creed.
"Many threats will harm the future of mankind. It will be your sole duty to safeguard the people."
"We serve."
Greene showed no emotions when she spoke. "You will stop wars. You will destroy terrorists. You will guardians of the future of the innocent."
"We watch."
She joined in with them. "We are Onyx."
Greystone raised his head somewhat. He felt proud to be here, together with Al –Mantis and Blackwood.
"We are the future. We have the power."
They had the power to change the path of the world. They were the future.
"Your first true Operations will commence tomorrow. They are part of the real operation "FICKLE", which was a part of your training from years back. You will be taking the fight directly to a group of people calling itself the "Servants of Menagerie". These extremists pose a direct threat to the peace between Faunus and humans. I need not tell you what needs to be done."
"Kill," the three of them said. It reminded Greystone of their martial arts lessons; shouting "kill" with each strike to prepare them for killing the enemy. He didn't need preparations though; he was ready.
"Sergeant Dusk will take you to the debriefing. I wish you all a favorable outcome. Dismissed."
They saluted the Professor and turned to the exit, where a group of handlers was waiting for them. They split the three Operatives up, taking them to different rooms.
Greystone stared at the man debriefing him, with his helmet underneath his arms. He was an unknown; with a strange face and a strange voice. He didn't trust him.
The man dropped a photograph of a large, muscular man with a thick moustache on the table. "This is Colonel Topaz, one of the three leaders of the Servants. He is currently leading death-squads against local Faunus populations in a small city in Mistral. The local military is not capable of dealing with him, so it's up to you freaks."
Greystone ignored that comment. He had a mission now; all that was important was completing it. He picked up the picture and took a good look at the enemy. The Servants of Menagerie were terrorists committing random acts of violence against everybody who didn't look like full humans. He had never understood why though; there had once been a girl in his life whom he had loved, and she had been a Faunus. A tough, fearsome-looking wolf-Faunus, but still a kind and loveable person. She had dreamt about joining the military to fight the Grimm and she was though enough to do so, but she had never been a violent or mean girl.
So why did she need to die? Why did all Faunus have to die? It was stupid. Those people were foolish and they all needed to die.
He felt a grim sense of satisfaction rise up in his stomach. Those Servants wanted to harm his sister simply because she didn't look human. They were threatening mankind with their stupid ideas and he would kill them for that. He liked that idea.
There were no preparations that he needed to take, or new information that he needed to know. He was outfitted with a pistol and a total of seventy-two rounds, as well as two knives, a grenade and one flashbang. For a good Operative, it was enough to destroy the enemy chain of command, topple a tyrant or destroy an army.
They dropped him off on the outskirts of what had once been a popular city in Mistral, using one of the black dropships. He was alone in a cargo bay meant for a dozen soldiers, looking at the smooth weapon that Sergeant Dusk had personally handed him. The old man had looked…different. His eyes hadn't been as merciless, and he hadn't been so sure of himself. Greystone didn't understand why; he had shot every possible weapon in the modern arsenal and he had spent countless hours perfecting his aim. Nobody could catch Alice or him when they didn't want to, to top it off. He could be hidden for hours; why worry?
"We can't get closer!" The pilot shouted at him. "Weather's turning worse with every second! You need to jump!"
When he did as they said, he experienced a brief moment of weightlessness before he hit the ground –and sank full foot into it. Apparently, there had been a heavy storm in the city, as the water had risen to his ankles.
Greystone looked around the dark layout of the city. It was dark, even for night. Most of the lights came burning wreckages and some intact streetlights. The buildings looked so pretty…old sure, but so pretty. Large bricks, well-shaped windows and high spires. It looked like the sort of city where people went to during their vacation because of the old building style and the high variety of people
That was why it was so sad that the place was now a warzone. The burning wreckages were remains of large armoured vehicles and civilian cars, spread out through the streets. Some buildings were smoking, others were downright demolished.
And there were bodies lying on the ground. People with animal-parts, wearing civilian clothes. Clothes with holes in them, leaking red blood. They had been left to rot where they lay, their dull eyes staring at nothing in particular. Some young, some old. All Faunus.
Greystone knelt next to a lady who couldn't have been much older than twenty. Her broken body lay oddly positioned against a wet wall, with multiple holes in her chest and one in her head. The blood that she had once shed had already been washed away by the sky, as if it was crying and trying to clean up.
This was the first time he saw dead bodies in an actual operation zone. The first time he had been among corpses was when he and Alice had to race Blackwood through a simple warzone, where both sides had caused conflicts and left their dead behind. This was…different. More personal in a strange way. Bodies that he could choose not to ignore, because it wasn't raining mortars around him.
He couldn't bury her, and he didn't want to close her eyes. He didn't know if she would have liked it or not. Probably not.
So he left her. It looked like his free choice wasn't so free after all; enemies were already approaching. Not him –no, they never saw him. A trio of men was walking calmly down the street, advancing towards some sort of town square with a large church. The church was on fire, and there were five people kneeling in front of the smashed doors.
All of them Faunus, with their hands in their neck.
There were three old-fashioned curving bridges that led to the main area, built across a wide canal. Reed and wooden planks enough.
The streets were flooded with lights and the heavy rain did not cease; the enemy had two dozen well-armed terrorists and he was on his own.
With no other choice to take, Greystone crouched down next to the river and waited for a moment of noise. He couldn't get spotted; he would get killed if he did.
A man with a scarf wrapped around his head and silver sunglasses in front of his eyes walked up to the group, with a large handgun in his hand.
Greystone was soaked to the bone. The rain was hard and cold and the rumbling of the thunder had his heart pounding at a high rate. He was shivering. He was cold and shivering. Seeing that man take the gun and place the barrel against the back of the head of one of the Faunus made him shiver worse. It also made him feel warm deep inside, in a very bad way.
He wanted to time it right. Making a splash now would be bad. He needed to wait for either the thunder or a gunshot.
The gunshot.
The man with the large gun pulled the trigger and Greystone flinched. Blood hit the soaked pavement and the body slumped to the ground.
After the initial moment of shock and disbelief, the other four started screaming. One voice in particular stood out to him. It was high-pitched, but strong. Emotional, but disarming.
He was still waiting at the side of the reed, having not moved during the first execution. He didn't know why; this was just like training. He had the perfect opportunity to move; wet, tired enemies who were distracted by civilians they could hurt, bad lines of sight and plenty of noise to cover him. Why hadn't he moved?
The man moved to the second person in the line; an old woman, who looked like she had already died. Hanging head, weak shoulders and a gaze kept steadily at the ground.
The gun touched the back of her head and Greystone closed his eyes.
A gunshot went off and he slid into the water at the same time, letting the freezing sensation of the ice-cold water numb his sight, hearing and feelings. His breath faltered, his limbs cramped and the dark, muddy water took his sight away.
Then he recovered. He slowly pushed himself towards the surface, where he could already see the wooden bridge that he had spotted upon approaching the site. His helmet was airtight and would keep him supplied with air if needed, though he would need to refresh it after a while.
He could hear the girl screaming at the Faunus-haters now, clearer than before. As he slowly swam underneath the pier towards the gathering of stone bridges, her words became audible. He ignored her though; there was nothing he could do for these people. Nothing except for killing the Colonel.
"Fuck you!" the girl screamed. "Fuck you!"
Greystone slowly swam underneath the pier and waited for the next gunshot. It came surprisingly-fast, ending the life of another hostage.
Blood sipped into the river, but it was barely noticeable due to the heavy rain. There was a flash of lightning and, immediately after that, the deep rumbling of thunder.
A third shot was followed by a fit of laughter. Greystone was glad that his pistol was water-proof; he couldn't imagine having to go through more of these executions without a functioning weapon.
The second-last hostage was the girl, who was defiant to the end. The executioners were too cowardly to face their victims before shooting them, which wasn't really a fitting end for someone like her.
There would be more. Greystone forced himself to concentrate on waiting the rest out. The last gunshot almost came like a relief to him; it was the end of the passive waiting and the end of his patience. The group of terrorists let the bodies lie where they had been shot, not even bothering to haul them out of the rain.
Another flash of lightning. The Operative dove underwater and swam to one of the stone bridges, where he orientated himself towards the center of the city. The Colonel would probably be waiting in the biggest, sturdiest house in the best defendable position.
It wouldn't help him one bit.
The group of soldiers left, enabling Greystone to spot multiple routes he could use to escape this open place undetected. There was only one stinger that made his escape plan useless; there was a sentry standing on the bridge, holding a shotgun. Beard, goggles and raincoat. Standard-issue militiaman.
He slowly moved towards the bridge with the bad guy, barely daring to move at all. He only adjusted his course with minor movements using his legs, merely reaching for his weapon when he was already in position.
It was a clear shot. From the barrel of his gun to the back of the head of his foe, nothing to stop him in-between. It was easy…only he didn't have a silencer. Even if he did, he couldn't risk people hearing the sound of his weapon discharging. And the body might just fall in a position where people could spot it.
So it would be a close-quarters kill.
Greystone slowly drifted towards the side, where he latched onto the side of the bridge and raised himself out of the water. The movement was slow and deliberate enough to go unheard, and the rain covered the liters of water that poured from his body. He slowly climbed towards the center, to the point where he was hanging right behind the terrorist. He recalled the image of the five hostages, executed one-by-one without mercy. It was easy to imagine his sister being one of the unlucky Faunus who were being hunted for their appearance.
He gently unsheathed his knife –one of Mantis' favorite models, with titanium carbide coating to block reflections. He shot forwards, grabbed he man by the back of his coat and pulled him over the edge, falling back into the river with him. He buried his knife deep into the terrorist's throat while at the same time forcing him to keep his head underwater. No screams for help, no last breath.
Blood flowed freely from the deep gash in the man's neck, dissipating into the dark water. His struggles slowed down and it became easier for Greystone to pull him back down again, keeping him a few feet underneath the surface of the water.
After twenty-eight seconds –he counted them all- the man stopped moving altogether. His limp body was easily kicked to the bottom of the river, where it stayed.
Greystone broke through the surface and hauled himself out of the water again. Streetlights, burning houses and the occasional ray of lighting illuminated the streets and made it nearly-impossible for anyone to cross unnoticed. He was on a tight schedule, too. There was only one chance for Onyx to pick him up after his kill, because they also had to get Mantis and Blackwood. A closed window, the adults called it.
Instead of cutting through the buildings and potentially risking running out of time to infiltrate the Colonel's home, he broke into a short sprint across the open terrain. Water splashed underneath his heels and more than once it felt like he would slip and fall, but he always managed to keep his balance.
He approached an empty atelier, where mannequins were displayed through shattered windows. Some of them were riddled with bullets.
Greystone passed the window of the shop when he heard something further down the streets. The ground was trembling, the puddles of water started to shake and he could hear the vague rumbling of an engine coming alive.
His first thought was that there was a tank rolling down the street. He jumped through the already-broken window of the atelier and crouched low into a corner, trying to become one with the shadows.
It wasn't a tank that drove past the window. It was a big robot with multiple legs, closely followed by more of the Servants of Menagerie .One of them clutched a bottle filled with an unknown substance, while the man next to him carried a large sack filled with items that rinkled with every step he took.
Some of them took potshots at the mannequins at the front. Most of the rounds didn't even find their targets, either.
Sloppy.
Only when they had passed the shop, and Greystone was free to explore for alternate routes, did he find bodies. Three of them lying on the ground, pale and stiff. A Faunus with cat ears, one with horns and one with a tail. Hosed with machineguns and dragged across the room, judging by the splatters of blood. Their clothes were torn and ragged, their faces had scrapes and bruises and their eyes were empty.
More dead bodies. He didn't even like seeing them, let alone lie on the ground two feet next to them. Had he been lying in blood that had once been theirs? Or was it still from the man he had killed on the bridge?
Was it even important? Dead was dead. These Faunus had been innocent and that man had been evil and they were all dead. It wasn't even important.
So he forgot about. He forged himself a path towards the last known location of the Colonel, claiming two more lives as he went. One of them he bashed over the head with a large rock and drowned, the other one he stabbed to death. Two strikes at the internal organs from behind, followed by several wild stabs at his neck-region. Some cries had escaped his victim, but the weather had gotten pretty brutal in the meantime. He had been alone, cold and probably afraid.
Just like his victims. It left satisfaction in its wake.
The road to the outpost he was supposed to hit grew increasingly-difficult to follow. He had to take a different route multiple times, fleeing up the rooftops or down more waterways to avoid the death-squads. He found only dead bodies, no matter where he went. But he was cold and wet and tired and he didn't care that he found dead people. They were dead and he had a goal.
It was unfortunate that the hideout of Colonel Topaz was in fact another church. One with multiple windows, paths of approach and climbable objects. It was almost like another Onyx playground, where they had played tag and paintball battles. Only his foe didn't know that he was being hunted.
Greystone climbed to the top of the church, where he found a small hole he could fit himself in. It led all the way down again, to a place a few meters above the table of Colonel Topaz. He had five guards with him, all armed with large rifles.
Luckily, the Operative had planned ahead. His grenade was a simple one; with a pin. A pin that could be used in traps.
In four minutes, a patrol would come back from dumping Faunus bodies into the river. They would stumble upon a small alley, close to the church, where a dead body lay on the ground. A dead body with a grenade attached to its chest. The moment they turned it around, they would pull the pin out of the explosive.
So Greystone started waiting. Four minutes was a long time when you were soaking wet and freezing, hungry and feeling sick from rainwater you had drank in a stupid attempt to stay hydrated. How long had he been in Mistral now? He had never even been to the Kingdom before. Four Kingdoms, four different worlds. This beautiful city was a playground for bad people, but why was that a thing? He knew that the other armies and organizations were stupid, but they couldn't be that stupid?
It was probably the way Miss Indigo had said it was. The world had become so bad and ugly that people didn't care anymore. He didn't care that much either, but he had been taught not to care. If he cared, he would slip up and make mistakes. They had taught him that.
The dead were dead and nothing would change that. Pity the living, for they were not dead yet.
An explosion went off outside, getting the attention of all the guards as well as the Colonel.
"You men! Check that out!" he ordered most his humans. Ugly-looking people with stolen clothes and weapons. They should all die. "Not you, stay here. It could be a trap. Cover the door."
So he suspected a trap? Clever dead man.
Greystone grabbed his knife and placed it in his fist. At this distance, he couldn't miss.
And he didn't. He lunged from his hiding place and landed on top of the sole guard, sticking his knife deep into his chest. Pulled it out. Drove it back in.
The Colonel shouted something and Operative Greystone whirled around, his pistol already in his hands. The knife was left buried within the heart of the one person who could have possibly stopped him.
The blood that stuck to his visor never stopped him from aligning the barrel with the head of his target and pulling the trigger. One. Two. Three. Four times. All headshots.
Underneath his visor, he smiled. Mission complete. He was hungry.
Outskirts of unidentified abandoned village - 17:19- present day.
Coco Adel looked around the abandoned city with mixed feelings welling up in her chest. She felt a bit creeped out by the spooky buildings and the tension in the atmosphere, but she also felt a distinctive warm feeling with the thought that she would soon get to fighting again. Life was uncertain to her now, with the changes and things that had happened to her team. To her. First and foremost, she was here to eliminate a dangerous and deranged killer; a stone-cold murderer who wouldn't even flinch at killing children and women.
But she was also pitting her team against said killer. And while she was absolutely positive that they would pull through the fight with nothing less than absolute victory, the thought still disturbed her somewhat. She wasn't too worried about Yatsuhashi or Fox, but…would Velvet be able to stomach this? She was getting too close to their kind…she would have to keep a closer eye on her.
Velvet too was looking around with mixed feelings, though hers were different from her leader. She felt…not frightened, but hesitant. She did not like the thought of having to fight Onyx personnel…especially not those that were not truly evil. She knew that they were not to blame for their lot in life. They were just too far gone to hold back against. They would hurt innocent people if given the chance, so they could not be allowed any chances to fight.
The four of them moved deeper into the abandoned village, checking every shattered window and empty doorway for their quarry. Velvet thought it seemed…desolate. It wasn't just abandoned, it was dead. Broken-down walls, wild plants growing up through the cracked pavement and so many empty houses…it was as if the only thing reminiscent of humanity left in this place was memories.
The same thing could be said about the one they were hunting. Only memories remained; perhaps the reason he was here in the first place.
"Good place for an ambush," Coco said, pushing her sunglasses higher up her face. There was no sun to be seen anywhere. "Stay awake."
A small Nevermore shrieked and flew away from the top of a building, but otherwise nothing moved. Not even the wind.
Something drew Fox's attention to the lowest part of a short skyscraper; a dull and dirt pane of glass, positioned at a low angle against the wall. It didn't look like a loose plate of glass to him though, which was interesting to consider. A basement, in an abandoned place like this? There might be Grimm hiding there. The place would be safer if they could clear it out first.
Upon hearing his opinion, Coco raised her voice and said, "I want this place tuned upside-down. No Grimm and no psychotic kids. Get to it!"
Team CFVY knew better than to split up when faced with such a dangerous foe. They kept their formation close and tight, in such a way that everybody could keep an eye on their partners. But as it turned out, there was no need for that. There were no Grimm around this place that was supposed to be crawling with them –not one.
And Yatsuhashi knew what that meant. He was the first to speak his mind about the lack of shadows. "It appears our foe has cleansed this place."
"Makes our job easier," Coco commented. "Any sign?"
Velvet shook her head, but also refrained from commenting. The things she knew and wanted to say would not do very much to better their situation. This might not be the easiest mission they had ever taken
Both Fox as Yatsuhashi had not encountered their enemy. They were looking around the town as much as their female companions, but they too could not notice anything. All movement they saw in this abandoned ghost-town might as well have been their imagination. Until…
"Movement!" Velvet called, her ears twitching. "To our rear!"
Coco and Fox were the first to react to the warning of their teammate; they spun around just in time to spot a black figure jump from the open window of an empty building that might have once housed children. It moved with a precision that not even the sole Faunus on the team could follow; one moment it appeared, the next it was gone. And a small object was buried at their feet.
"Shit-!" Coco had time to yell, before a dark flashbang exploded amidst their team. Yatsuhashi had the sense to protect his eyes and ears, while Fox and Velvet jumped to the side, but that did little to diminish the deafening effects of the super-sonic detonation. Velvet fell to the ground screaming, holding her sensitive ears in clenched fists, her eyes seeing nothing but a white screen of stars.
The leader immediately unfolded her chaingun and unloaded on what she thought was the enemy, but it was gone before she had even aimed it. It was too fast –it sprinted across the open ground and covered seven meters within about a second and a half, before disappearing through the entrance of another building.
Coco fired off a small burst of rounds into the wall, easily splintering it. She didn't kill more than a dozen bricks with her high-caliber rounds, which were worthless against that which she could not hit.
"Velvet!" she snapped, not daring to place her weapon away again. "Are you alright? Answer me!"
The Faunus couldn't hear her; the blast had just managed to spare her eardrums, but she was functionally deaf for the moment.
"After him!" Coco then barked, directing Fox to the building that their enemy had just appeared from. He didn't take more than a few steps to the left before gunfire exploded from their flank.
Yatsuhashi moved to cover Velvet with his body, but the attack wasn't aimed at him. Small-caliber rounds impacted on the ground around Coco's body and Fox only had to block a few with well-timed strikes before the attack ceased altogether.
"I thought you were a marksman?" Coco huffed. "You can't aim for shit."
There was no response. The tanned fighter turned his pale eyes to the direction of the gunfire and dropped into a flat sprint, making his way to the new site of ambush before the enemy had a chance to get a new direction to fire from. He caught a glimpse of a glass pane and a tall structure before skidding to a halt, too late realizing that he charging headlong into another ambush.
The window shattered into a thousand pieces as a dark figure burst from its center. He was clad in utterly-black clothes except for an orange scarf, which was tied around his right arm. To cover his face he wore a skull-mask, pale and dirty. He was close to Fox –too close for the teammates to risk opening fire.
But Fox Alistair was no newcomer to the battlefield; he easily blocked a knife-strike that was aimed at his face and positioned his blades to deflect the follow-up strikes that followed up without hesitation. He noticed that his foe had jammed himself inside of the dark passageway underneath the glass pane using nothing more than his feet, while at the same time managing to weave and dodge the flashing counter-attacks directed at him.
Fox struck a hammer-blow and forced the black-clad foe to shield himself with both hands, before pulling his elbow back and delivering another stab at the white skull that served as a face, intent on ending the battle then and there.
The next moment, his head slammed into the metal frame that had kept the glass pane suspended, before being grabbed by the front of his shirt by two hands.
Fox grunted before the soldier underneath him pulled his feet back, dragging him with him down the dark shaft. The road down was quick and too chaotic to follow, but he felt his head bump against a metal frame, cobwebs brush against his face and his blade slicing against the interior of the passageway. He managed to recollect himself at the near end of the tunnel, pushing his blades out against the internal walls. His speed slowed, his movements became more controlled and he succeeded in rolling out of the long tube without a disadvantage in his martial stance.
The traitor stood there in front of him, his arms hanging by his sides. He had a knife-holster attached to his chest, out of which a black hilt protruded. He sure had a thing for black, it seemed.
Raising his arms, Fox assumed the position he had been trained in. His opponent had a belt with a pistol attached, several explosive devices and a knife. Another knife at his leg.
Fox held no illusions; this foe was dangerous. He was strong enough to defeat several first-year teams as well as to make entire military groups disappear. He was a child soldier, trained from the age of five to kill. One mistake would cost lives.
He was not above taking lives himself, as his foe would soon learn. They had been ordered to take this "Greystone" alive, but if failing that…lethal actions had to be taken.
Fox inhaled to prepare himself for action, and the child soldier burst into motion. He sprinted towards him with speeds a speed he had seldom seen, let alone faced. Still he managed to bring his own blades up fast enough to block the serrated edge of the knife that went for his eyes.
Greystone strung together a series of slashes and stabs that were all aimed at his face; he saw nothing but the cold steel of the combat knife as he whirled around, jumped back and forth and rolled aside to dodge, block and reflect his strikes. He pushed the soldier's arm away, attempted to skewer him through his abdomen and felt an elbow slam against his nose. Disoriented but still active, Fox exhaled sharply and went on the offensive, showing his foe a series of attacks and moves himself. His blades flashed through the air, impacted in cold steel, slashed through the conrete ground underneath their feet and forced his foe back.
Then, something changed in the Onyx-soldier. He spread his fingers like he was holding onto a ball or sphere, lowered his arms to his waist and placed one leg a few feet in front of the other.
Fox recognized it as a martial arts stance, but he had no clue what martial arts it was. Offensively or defensively-oriented, he had no idea.
Greystone sprinted towards him again, bearing no injuries from previous clashes. Fox attempted to puncture his chest and pierce his heart with a well-placed lunge, but he was too slow. Or just not accurate enough. Greystone slammed his left hand against his chin and forced him back by taking a step forwards, before reaching for his own right arm and touching it with his hand. Lightly, gently.
Then, Fox more felt than saw the child soldier spin around him with simple steps, still keeping contact with his hand. He was forced to move with the psychopath, no matter what he wanted. The other hand took his pinned-down one over and he was flung through the air and smashed against the ground. It wasn't the first time for him to be thrown like that however; he broke his fall and jumped upright, pushing the soldier away and creating space to utilize his blades once more.
He didn't get it. They exchanged blows for a few seconds more, before Fox slipped up, allowing the soldier to strike him against the jaw with his elbow. The brief strike disoriented him, but that was all his foe really needed.
Greystone dove underneath his arm, slammed his knee against Fox's stomach at the same time as driving his elbow against his spine. After that, he touched him by his neck and flung him to the ground, the back of his head being the first part to hit the concrete floor.
Alistair did not get back up again. The Onyx soldier observed his limp body for a split-second before Yatsuhashi, having just been ordered by Coco to go and see what was taking Fox so long, slid down the large tube as well.
The big guy landed on the ground without flinching and strode towards the center of the basement, where the unmoving body of his teammate lay. For a brief moment he feared that their foe had already lost a part of himself and claimed the first Beacon life in this rampage of his. Luckily, it turned out that Fox was still breathing, if only shallow and weakly. He was bleeding from a scraped place on his face and it looked like one of his scars would become a new scar, but he would live.
Yatsuhashi stood and looked around. There was no sign of the attacker anywhere, but he did not let that fool him. Their team had received a dossier on who this person was and what his skills were. A martial arts expert, a lethal shot with pistols, assault and battle rifles and of course, a marksman with snipers. Allied with team RWBY, on neutral grounds with JNPR and hostile with LACG to a limited degree. He did not use a signature weapon as much as the students did, preferring knives as much as guns.
This was a foe that he did not want to underestimate. There was no reason for this Greystone to flee higher up the building, so he had to be in this very room to stage an ambush. Intelligent, but not good enough.
Yatsuhashi grabbed his sword and slammed it down into the ground, taking care not to harm his fallen teammate. The resulting shockwave cracked the concrete under his feet, damaged the walls and collapsed half the ceiling. Pieces of plywood and other materials fell down to the ground, but there was no sign of the enemy.
He looked up at the framing of the ceiling-
-and two legs wrapped themselves around his neck, constricting his throat. He grunted and attempted to reach up, but the armour on his left shoulder prohibited him from reaching above his head. The lights seemed to flicker and a terrible feeling of nausea rushed through his stomach.
Outside, Coco Adel was just getting Velvet back up to go and get her two teammates when she heard the gunshots. She shot a concerned glance at her teammate before hurrying to haul her upright. This wasn't what she had had in mind when her team had gotten the order to bring the child soldier back to Beacon. In her mind, they would get to beat up a known murderer before hauling him to back to the place where he can be kept an eye on. Prevent the death of good people and bring the bad ones to justice –that was why they were here.
"Where's Yatsuhashi?" Velvet asked.
"He went after Fox," Coco replied. This mission was getting a lot more complicated than she had thought it would.
"Is Fox alright?"
"I don't know! Just stick behind me!"
"We're not going to help them?" Velver asked.
"We are helping them by staying out of their way. If push comes to shove, we can fight better above ground than below!"
Velvet couldn't argue with that, so she waited. She waited with her teamleader until she couldn't hear the sounds of combat coming from the basement anymore, whereupon she heard something else.
"Someone's coming up," she muttered. She could hear dull banging emanating from the tube, which meant that either one of three people was about to emerge from the basement. And though she wanted to believe in her teammates, she had to be certain. She had to be prepared.
"Fox, that you?" Coco snapped, aiming her chaingun at the hole below the glass plate. "Yats?"
"They're not answering," Velvet whispered.
"Yeah, I get that. Stand back."
The banging inside of the tube suddenly stopped, which could mean only two things.
"Coco?"
"On it."
A figure jumped from the open hole, with a skull for a face and an orange piece of clothing around his arm.
"Freaking infinity scarf," Coco cursed under her breath before opening fire. Even though she knew how to prioritize on the battlefield, the total lack of fashionable sense in her enemy only made her hate him more. It was a pet peeve of her; she just couldn't stand things like that, life-threatening situations or not.
The Operative ducked low and avoided the first burst of fire, which shattered the already damaged wall of the structure he had been hiding in. He moved like a shadow, contorting and flickering. He was so fast! Faster than humans ought to be! Velvet could barely follow him as he crouched down, jumped at them and dodged their attacks without getting hit.
"You think you've had it tough?" Coco shouted as she fired her chaingun at the approaching shadow. It contorted and changed its directions at the last moment, weaving away from her fire and sprinting towards a broken-down wall. She easily kept up with its frame and directed her fire towards the cover, punching clean through the rocks, but just not hitting the target. "You think you're tough?"
He dove away from the crumbled remains of the wall and made a beeline towards them, moving with such speeds that his feet didn't even seem to hit the ground. Coco had one last salvo left before she had to feed her weapon a new belt of munition, but she would make every shot count.
The large-caliber rounds left the barrels of her weapon with such force that the ground underneath her vibrated. They carved a path through the air with enough power to tear a fully-grown Nevermore apart, but only one round found its mark. A trail of blood exploded outwards from the Operative, but he didn't stop. He flinched and half-staggered, but he kept coming at them. The bullet had hit him in the left arm, which was hanging a bit limp at his side, bleeding profoundly.
Velvet shot toward him, intercepting him at four meters distance from Coco and her. She moved with the innate elegance of a Faunus; gracious, without wasted movements. She lashed out at the bleeding figure with her leg, but he parried her mid-strike, pinned her leg down and threw her to the ground.
Coco joined the fighting as well, changing her weapon back to its handbag-form. She took a swing at the soldiers while he was preoccupied with Velvet, but he ducked underneath the swipe and kicked at her chest, forcing her back.
As Adel clutched her midsection and staggered back, Velvet clashed with the child soldier once more. She couldn't force out the memories of him having attended the lessons; how misguided CRDL had been in their attempts to intimidate him and how peaceful he had seemed when in the vicinity of Yang and Ruby.
Velvet kicked at him, spun around on her hind leg and threw a series of punches at his face. None of the attacks actually made contact with the Operative; he dodged the kicks and redirected the punches until the Faunus nearly stumbled, after which he opened up his own assault. Two sharp jabs at her stomach, the palm of his right hand to her chin and his left hand striking at her throat.
Her Aura stopped the otherwise-lethal attacks, but she was left reeling by the impacts. Before she could recover or even gain more distance, Greystone grabbed her wrist, stepped underneath her arm and forced it behind her neck. He increased his pressure and dislocated her shoulder,
Velvet screamed and fell to the ground, clutching her shoulder, while Coco tried to get to her and protect her from further attacks.
No further attacks came for Velvet. Their foe simply stepped past her and moved towards the last CFVY member still standing.
Coco threw a punch at his face, which was still hidden behind the skull mask. He placed his forearm against her elbow pit and struck with the other arm, breaking her sunglasses.
Adel discarded the useless accessory and swung her reinforced handbag at his side, with enough power to crush a Beowolf.
Greystone, his arm still covered with blood from his own injury, jumped back and narrowly avoided the attack. And the follow-up one. And when Coco lunged for him again, he side-stepped her and grabbed her neck, pulling her off balance. His arm snaked out and wrapped around her neck, but not to cut off her blood flow. He pulled her to the ground, unsheathed his combat knife and raised it in the air-
"Stop!"
The soldier stopped himself mid-stab, with the point of the blade hovering a centimeter above Coco's larynx. Then he looked at Velvet, who was struggling to stand.
"You don't need to do that!" She had tears in her eyes from the pain, but her gaze was steady and her stance was strong. To Greystone, it couldn't be anything but another attempt at combat; a threat that hadn't been fully neutralized.
Yet he stayed his hand.
"You don't need to do any of this. You can just stop and go back to Beacon!"
Coco reached up for his knife-carrying hand and slammed her elbow into his sternum at the same time, nearly breaking his grip. He exhaled sharply and whirled the blade around, before striking her at her temple with the hilt.
He dumped her body to the ground and stood up again. Velvet was the only remaining threat to him on this battlefield and she knew it. This time, it was up to her to protect her teammates. "I don't want to hurt you," she said, her voice trembling with pain. "But unless you leave my friends alone, I will."
His mask made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. He just stood there, holding the knife in his bloodied hand, without replying to her.
Velvet meant every word she said. She didn't hate Will; she didn't want to fight him and she wasn't going to kill him. But if he insisted on making sure that her team would not come back to track him, she would fight him with everything she had.
The Operative slowly slid his knife back into its sheath and turned towards the west, where his objective lay.
Velvet let him.
"The founder told me that the Catalysts would change their carriers. That they wouldn't remain our Operatives for the rest of their lives. I disagreed with him. Not vocally, but in my mind, I did. I hypothesized that the Catalysts would succumb to the same conditioning that we put the kids through. That the constant stress, pain and war in an alien mind would numb them, and break them.
I was wrong. I have always despised being wrong. I always tried to find ways to prove to my teachers that I was right and that they were wrong. I am never wrong. It bears repeating. I was wrong. I don't know what they did…that A-line of Catalysts…Attera and Ancilla changed things. Wrenched our Operatives away from us. Changed how they acted, how they behaved, how they even thought.
But it won't matter. Not many people know this, but the Implant is not absolute. Far from it. Within five years, the peak efficiency of the artificial coma will deteriorate to a point where we can't keep them dormant anymore. But within four years, the forcibly-joined souls will outgrow their minds. The one with the weaker will fall apart on the level of the soul, succumbing to bouts of insanity and madness. The stronger one will die within minutes of the demise of the weaker one. That is, if they won't be killed by them first.
I was wrong. But in the end, that still doesn't change anything. And that means that I was right."
Next time: Ash encounters people. RWBY gets send to finish what CFVY started. The truth should have stayed hidden.
