Beacon - Drexel's Borrowed Classroom - Drexel's Point of View
I know that nobody likes extra history lessons, or at least, not these students. But as of late in training, they have been making the same tactical mistakes which could be avoided through a basic knowledge of past conflicts.
The rules of the game have changed, or at least the equipment the teams RWBY and JNPR use to toe the rules has changed.
Ruby now carries a massive bolt action sniper rifle with a drum barrel magazine and massive bayonet, capable of accepting stun ammunition and the kinetic weapons which I am attempting to retrain them into using.
Weiss still carries a variant of the Myrentaster which fires .303 magnum bullets. Also capable of stun rounds and the kinetic ammunition.
Blake now is armed with a pair of high capacity automatic pistols, capable of firing also stun and kinetic rounds.
But before I could finish my mental list, Jaune raised his hand.
"Yes, Jaune?"
"Professor, I was wondering... Why are you giving all of us new weapons, rather than teaching us how to modify the stuff that we are already comfortable with to accept these new ammo types you want us to use?"
About to answer, with my mouth wide open, I caught myself. Why not? It would be a simple enough modification... All their weapons are stable in design (with the monstrous exception of Ruby's scythe. That thing needs downsizing), and just need their barrels and receivers rebuilt in the simplest way possible. To fire the stun beads, a smaller barrel could be fit under the larger, and an extra switch beside the safety called "stun".
It would enable these two teams to capture rather than kill when convenient without having to sacrifice any advantage.
"Screw this, lets do that. Come on everyone, we're going to my place. The next few classes will..."
Suddenly everything began to melt around me. The students seem to fold into themselves and form puddles as if they were made of argentum, their muscles and bones non-existent. The desks began to also melt, as well as the walls... The Ceiling...
"Wi-"
Even me.
While this nightmare of a reality took over, somehow the other student could speak. Their voices were of worry, and questioning. Some asked or screamed out if I was okay, or simply as a reaction from a variant of traumatic shock. As I began to puddle upon the ground, a harsh and cruel whisper took to the air.
"You know this Drexel: Nothing you see here is real."
Beacon - Drexel's Borrowed Classroom - Blake's Point of View
Suddenly in mid sentence, the Professor had collapsed as if he were one of those puppets whose strings had been cut. He had been muttering things once he struck the ground, as if he had a stroke or some bizarre hallucination. Maybe both?
The sudden nature of the fall wasn't the surprising part, but that he even struck the floor in the first place. This is the person which my team and I have known to kill and restore life, now suddenly struck down for an unknown reason instantaneously.
Something feels very, very wrong. Everything feels now so dreamlike... Its as if I could just fire a few bullets and the glass separating me from reality would shatter, only to repair itself anew. But just as quickly as that feeling flit into my mind... It disappeared, as if the only thing wrong was that the professor had dropped unconscious, maybe even dead. Ruby and Ren were the first to react, quickly running to the cloaked heap which struck the ground a bit too hard.
Within a short period of time, the class was cancelled and the fallen teenager was moved to the medical wing.
Unknown Location - Drexel's Point of View
Everything hurts. It seems as if I'm laying on my back with my eyes closed. Feeling the... Cot. I am on a cot. Why a cot? The hospital wing doesn't use cots unless there are more casualties than the place can handle, which is a massive statement: the Beacon medical wing can tolerating large quantities of wounded students while acting as a backup hospital in the event of a disaster within Vale.
Opening my eyes, I found myself in a dimly lit tent, stuffy with a very humid heat. The lack of light was beneficial, seeing as how my eyes then stepped on the pedal which sent my pain receptors in my brain into overdrive over the lacking illumination within the tent: any stronger light would be no less than torture.
But this isn't Beacon. This isn't even home. It feels as if I had slept for weeks, thus conditioning my eyes to the darkness formed by closed eyelids. Could I be hallucinating? A lucid dream of some variant? I know that injecting argentum, particularly of that purity may mess with my mind. Is this the beginning of a labyrinth which I had unintentionally filled my mind with?
Finding the strength to sit up, I cracked my back and looked around the room. Against the metal and canvas cot, I found a belt bearing two short swords next to a pair of boots which I recognized as my own. I recalled getting them some time ago... But why am I gaining memories which I never knew I had?
My strength gaining with a speed and potency which I found to be most convenient, I took the surprisingly light belt and fastened it to my waist, and put on my black leather boots. Looking down on myself, I found a uniform which I also recognized as my own: green, a shade of which that could easily serve as efficient camouflage. Walking up to a long mirror propped up in the tent, tripping on myself along the way, I observed myself.
I must have been out for some time: the hair which had been cut by the other teenagers has grown back to it's thick mass. I was much taller than I remembered, by at least four inches. Perhaps six? To my left, the split in the canvas which made the structure's entrance was pulled back thus allowing a flood of blinding light to enter which I shielded myself from. A loud squeak of equal shock, happiness, and surprise filled the air, followed by a child running at me and flinging him or herself into my gut in a hug. As quickly as the small figure had approached me, it left the tent in a run.
I suppose it's time that I took a look around outside, so I may as well exit the tent. Leaving the humid entrapment, I kept my eyes on the ground until they had adjusted appropriately to only find a strong surprise.
Around and before me, was a large and sprawled out military base, complete with watch towers, camouflage nets, plenty of tents and wooden temporary structures, a few parked armored transports and light jeeps every so far, and plenty of men and women dressed similarly to my wear going about their business. Not too far away, stood a girl dressed in a black and blue summer dress with that may be a knife at her black belt. The small collection of soldiers, one of which had a white armband and red cross upon the band appeared to maintain a posture of disbelief at the ecstatic girl who was similar in frame and stature to the person who hugged me.
At least, they maintained a look of disbelief until they noticed me at the mouth of the tent. Then they were struck with the shock of surprise. Then concern, the armbanded soldier and girl running to me as I slumped to the ground, my legs suddenly incapable of holding me upright as the military base within this forest became engulfed with darkness.
