Edited as of (7/21/18)
PB: Da-Awesom-One
BLOODLUST
-Adam Taurus-
"Commander Taurus, you need to stay still! Your ribs...!"
'This is insane! Madness!' I thought with a grimace as I shoved the young medic working on creating a splint for my arm away as gently as I could despite her protests, clutching Wilt and Blush closer to my blood-soaked chest, the far off screams of my men ringing through the halls once more, followed by an impact that shook the complex around us, and sent dust falling from the carved stone ceiling of the corridor.
"Update! Now!"
'I don't have the luxury of giving in despite the pain...'
"Sir, that thing just took out Squads Three and Four!" the soldier manning communications, a slight boy barely into his teens with dog ears poking through short blonde hair, cried out in reply, straining his ears to hear anything useful out of the downpour of information from our strike teams, most barely even aware of the situation, and demanding updates. "Nothing seems to work on it! I-it just takes what we can throw at it, and heals without a trace! Even the heavy ordinance is just slowing it down!"
I swore under my breath, struggling to my feet while ignoring the burning pain in my side from my earlier encounter with this... 'Calling him a 'monster' is more appropriate than 'Trapper.'' And to think this morning I would've said there was little difference...
The boy we'd captured was different, though. While Trappers reveled in the slaughter of my comrades, this creature tore through us with a fervor almost akin to the Grimm. 'Worse, even. The Grimm are at least unfeeling, soulless beasts.'
After those last muttered words of lucidity, however, the Trapper had lost all control of himself, falling into a mad rage that consumed his sanity and reason as I tried to put him down and failed. It had taken all my strength just to pierce his Aura and wound him, but every time I did, he merely shrugged it off.
I prided myself on my courage, standing tall, even after watching that Witch exercise her strange powers in front of me back in that camp. But when I'd stabbed Wilt into his stomach, only for the madman to pull it with a bloody cackle on his lips... I shuddered despite myself, grateful that my people had managed to pull me away from my opponent before he could finish the job. Then I was wrathful, as I remembered the cost it had taken to do so.
'All those lives for mine... I will not have their sacrifice be in vain!'
But what to do?
Our strongest agents were all either out in the field, or currently in deep cover elsewhere serving the cause. Even if they had been present, though, I would've felt confident sending maybe one or two of them against the man now rampaging through the depths of our base, killing all in his path...
"Sir, he's coming this way! He's... H-he's forcing his way to us!" the boy called out, voice tinged with fear as he glanced down the long corridor, pale face soon joined by the other troops present.
It took no real guesswork to figure out how our attacker was doing. The near-constant tremors echoing through the facility coming steadily closer made that perfectly clear. I still didn't relish watching the concrete wall at the end of the long hallway being torn down as a large heaving figure stepped through the fresh hole, eyes glowing a dull sickly green.
'This was a Grimm-rated bunker from back during the revolution...' I gritted my teeth as I watched him approach, heart pounding in my chest. 'And he tore through it like cardboard!'
What clothes he had on that weren't completely torn apart were stained liberally, along with a good portion of his pale skin, in crimson blood. Both his, and that of his victims. His dark hair was matted down around his face, where an enormous grin dominated his youthful features.
Clutched in his twitching hand was his weapon, a long, dull grey club covered in dents and dark stains, many currently dribbling down into a slow drip to the floor to stain the ground.
It was a thing out of nightmare. Something that shouldn't exist.
'And won't for much longer, if I have any say!' I tightened my grip, teeth clenched as I put one foot in front of the other.
Before I could manage a few steps, however, intent on bringing the fight to this abomination, my own troops beat me to it. The three still with us drew steel and charged towards the Trapper, Aura's flaring brightly in an attempt to draw his attention.
'So I can escape,' I realized in horror as the medic and radio tech tried to drag me away.
"You fools, stop! You can't...!"
"Die, you monster!" the man at the front of the pack cried out, only to have his battle cry cut off, along with his head, from the force of a lazy swing of the Trapper's club, splattering the wall in brain matter. The man beside him faltered at the sight, only to have his top half separated from his lower body before he could even move, the force behind even so blunt a weapon more than enough to crash through their Aura's admittedly weaker barriers as if they weren't even there.
"For the glory of the White Fa...!" the last screamed, slashing at the hulking figure while his back was turned, only for the blade to snap down the middle upon contact, her neck following suit soon after almost as an afterthought.
'Damn it!'
Wilt was freed from its scabbard before I'd even registered the action, my chest burning painfully, though I pushed it aside, stepping in front of the two quivering Faunus next to me, feeling his eyes fall upon me. A flicker of recognition, and almost childlike giddiness rippled through him as he hunched over, his club held before him in a crude copy of my own stance.
'He'll come at me head on. He doesn't know any better.' I breathed out, acknowledging my foe. 'I'll hold him off, and allow these two to escape. To continue fighting until our people are free.' I might fall, but I'd be damned if I wasn't going to take one more head before I did.
With a roar, the Trapper - "Duo," Corbell had called him - charged at me with speed greater then I'd have expected of so large a man, appearing before me in an instant, his club falling in a downward arc towards my skull with enough force the split me in half, too fast to dodge.
'Blake...' Her face pulsed through my mind...
But I was then knocked aside by a dark-armored figure shoving me into the side of the wall so hard, I thought I might've cracked another rib, though it was better than how I would've been if they hadn't. Duo cratered the ground where I had stood moments before, the tech trying his best to shield the medic with his body, crying out when a stone struck him across the back.
'Who would...? Oh, no...'
My savior stood up, revealing herself to be a woman with long, straight black hair that hung down her back, bedecked in a variation of the standard White Fang uniform, though with what looked to be dark-colored chainmail underneath the white sleeveless jacket, with dull red strips and patches styled to look like claw marks stitched or bolted across it. Said jacket also had a red outline rather than gray seen in most standard uniforms. The domino mask she wore was similar in style to my own, though the marks were designed to look like the eyes of a spider.
"You all righty there, handsome? Didn't break anything else, did I? How's your face?" she said in a smooth melodic cadence, thinly-filed fangs just visible in the place of incisors, hands already reaching to cup my face. Her fingers even moved towards my mask, but I knocked them away angrily before she could unclasp it. "Oooh! Still feisty as ever, I see."
"Charlotte..." I spat out in irritation.
'Of all the possible people who could've saved me, it just had to be her.'
Duo spun around, glaring at the new interloper with a snarl of fury, which was quickly cut off as a red-shelled fist crashed into the side of his head, sending him sailing down the hallway to land in a crumbled heap, his attacker cracking his hands together menacingly.
"Boris."
About a head shorter than myself with slicked back blue hair, Boris made up for it in bulk muscles straining his armored chest piece, sleeveless to better show off his arms, which were both covered in a light red chitin plating. "Now, that's no way for two old buddies to meet up after so long apart! Especially after saving your ass like this."
At his side, flanking the two terrified Faunus clutching one another, were maybe half a dozen or so others dressed in similar styles, most with chainmail hoods over their heads, and each with their own mask design, sporting various weapons and animal characteristics, though all had the same easy grin on their faces. Charlotte especially as she tried to "help" me up.
"Damn, girl, let the man breath!"
"GET OFF ME!" I scowled as I shoved the Faunus away, her mouth a perfect pout.
The Blood Hounds. A more insubordinate, uncontrollable, volatile force I couldn't even imagine. 'And yet I called them here...'
"It's Charlie." She leaned forward, licking her lips while peering at me like a piece of meat. "And sorry if I offend. I just thought that with Kitty Girl gone now, we could finally..." She let out a sharp intake of breath as Wilt appeared at her throat, slicing through her Aura to reach skin beneath.
"Don't. Mention. Her. EVER. Again." I punctuated each word by applying pressure to the sword, even drawing blood, forgetting for a second in my anger just who I was talking to. A blush appeared across her cheeks as her hand went to her neck gingerly. Her fellows snickered behind us as I knocked her hand away and removed the blade. "Get a hold of yourself."
This obsession of hers was getting out of hand. 'Of all the people that bastard could have brought...'
"Anything for you, love," she sighed, looking lazily to the side to see Duo getting to his hands and knees, shaking out his head. He had been stunned by the surprise attack, but was overcoming it fast. "Those reports we picked up were right. He really is a tough one."
"Nah! He ain't nothing special..." the Crab Faunus intoned, motioning for two of the others, one clutching a short rapier and the other a fancy looking set of claws, to follow him as he began making his way down the halls. "He's big, can take a punch, and gets mad. Not exactly anything new. Mind if we take this one, Boss!?"
I froze, gaze turning to a well-muscled man shouldering the bladed shotgun variant that most of his men carried, with sleeveless chainmail armor underneath his jacket similar to the others, if of a slightly higher quality, which was slightly visible from the hem and collar. He rounded a corner, sporting fur accents around the collar and sleeve sections of the jacket, as well as the belt, with tattered bandages running up his forearms. Blood red tattoos ran up and down what was visible of his arms, which seemed to shimmer in the flickering light of the hallway. He had shaggy, auburn-colored hair falling to his shoulders, and ragged, similarly-colored canine ears twitched atop his head, his face a full face mask depicting some terrifying beast.
He was neither the tallest among his fellows or the bulkiest, but something about him still managed to set my hair on end just looking at him.
'Conan...'
"Sure. Don't see why not..." he replied in a filtered drawl, cocking his head at the Trapper, who was searching frantically for his weapon. "Go nuts! I'll step in if things get too hectic!"
From any other person, that might have been encouraging. From him, however... Boris gulped, gesturing for those with him to follow. Meanwhile, those staying back jested amongst themselves, taking bets, my eyes widening as I saw Lien exchanging hands.
'Disgraceful...'
"What do you think, pup?" The Commander stooped down next to the tech, spooking the young man as he pointed a finger towards his men. "How long do you think they'll last?"
"W-what?" he stuttered as the medic shivered beside him, the two looking like sheep among wolves.
'In a way, they are, with an unsavory reputation like theirs to live up to.' Each of those people had taken more than their fair share of lives, Human and Faunus. One of the qualifications for joining the group was that they had to be so dysfunctional - so bloodthirsty - that no other group could handle them. 'And to think I once wanted to be one of them...'
I was younger, then. Less focused... I and a few others had been screened, but, thankfully, my own student had been there to hold me in check. 'The only time your weakness was right, Blake...'
"How long do ya think Boris and his boys there..." He pointed to the diminutive man cracking his fists yet again, "will be able to hold their own?" He shifted his finger to Duo. "Go on, join in the fun! I'll even spotcha."
"U-uh, uh, um..." He looked around at the assembled group, the whole lot of them hanging off his words, looking eager. "F-f-five minutes, maybe?"
"Five minutes!? Kid's low ballin' ya, Kingsley!" One of the Hounds leaning over his shoulder shouted, startling the pair of them.
The Commander silenced him with a sharp glare, before getting to his feet. "Five minutes. A fair bet!" the older Faunus nodded, ruffling the boy's hair before scratching behind his own ear with a free bandaged hand. "Got that, Boris!? Five minutes!"
Boris muttered darkly under his breath, screaming some obscenity back at my fellow Faunus as he reached a thick-fingered hand into a pouch at his belt, drawing a small case that he thumbed open, and poured a light bluish powder onto his arm that he snorted with a ragged hiss, a thin smile spreading across his face as his Aura flared brightly. His men performed similar actions, one injecting a small tab into his neck, while the other puffed his through an inhaler, both experiencing a similar reaction as their leader had. As one, they charged at the madman, driving him further and further down the hall away from us, weaving about like wolves chipping away at his defenses, all the while those watching heckled and shouted encouragement in equal measure.
It was sickening, especially when one of the fighters - the one clutching a thin rapier - was caught off guard mid-taunt, mad laughter cut short with a crash as his head was blown off by a sudden back swing, painting the wall behind him a deep red. Rather than balk at the death of one of their comrades, however, the whole lot of them merely laughed, more money exchanging hands as the tech and medic watched on in abject horror.
"Onyx always was a cocky prick," Conan said with a shrug as he drew up next to me, glancing to my bloody clothes with a raised eyebrow. "Shoulda known better. His opponent was good enough to put youon your ass, after all." He was silent, watching the fight with a critical eye as what wounds on the Trapper healed near instantaneously, before speaking again. "I had a man here: Pollux. Last I knew, he was with you..."
"Dead," I answered him, the man nodding his head matter-of-factly as if it were a comment on the weather, and not the life of his subordinate, pulling out a small tab similar to the one I'd seen the fallen Hound use, and moving it towards his neck with a practiced air. "First victim. Set him off, I think, and started all this."
The other Hound fell to the ground numbly, clutching at a hole in his stomach. Boris stood alone against his blood-covered foe, breathing heavily, eyes dilated, and sweat running down his face. Whatever he'd taken, as with the drugs all the Hounds carried, numbed pain, along with a dozen other benefits, such as heightened senses by even Faunus standards, to an improved ability to channel their Aura.
'What they don't tell you is that it's basically a rumble drug...' The benefits were many, but so were the side effects. Erratic and violent behavior, hallucinations, and that was on top of the addictive nature of the drug itself. It shortened their lives, but to these men and women, it was well worth the sacrifice, or the high. 'A sacrifice I once would've respected... Now I can only regret the need for it in the first place.' The Humans would answer for this. For every measure and boundary they had forced our people to cross.
The Dog Faunus shuddered slightly as whatever he'd just injected himself with worked its way into his system, his tattoos glowing for a brief moment as a blood red Aura flared across his body, veins pulsing visibly. "S-somehow I think that twisted old pig would've enjoyed that."
Duo leapt forward, bat coming down in an arc that crashed against the White Fang's arms with enough force to put a few large cracks in the smaller man's shell. But it did stop him cold as he tried to push forward, the crab laughing as he drew back his crimson-colored fist...
"Got you, you cocky pr... Ack!" he cried out as the bandaged back of a fist smashed through his Aura, and drove him head first into the wall with enough force to leave a sizable hole in the concrete. The Crab Faunus slumped to the floor unconscious, with blood running down his lip.
"Five minutes on the dot! Good guess, pup!" Conan pulled his hand back, not even looking at the man he had just put on the ground as he examined the Trapper, who had leapt back, snarling at him with bloody foam frothing from his mouth. "Big one, aren'tcha? I'd heard the Trappers had some sort of berserker secret weapon on their side, but I wasn't expecting a kid."
Rather than even attempt to respond, Duo merely howled once again, his sickly-looking Aura flaring like fire as he charged, only to be met with a shotgun blast to the face, sending him reeling back as the Commander cocked the shotgun in his hands, firing it again and again as he advanced down the hall.
"Go get him, Commander!" Charlotte cheered excitedly, howling into the air in a call that was quickly taken up by the others, the sound ringing through the hall hurting my ears.
"Tear him apart, Boss!"
"Oi, Shorty! You still breathing!?"
"Yer aim's shit, Argus!"
"DIIIIEEE!" the monster roared as a few of the Dust-fueled pellets tore through his barrier and into his shoulder, sending a spray of blood through the air.
"Oh, so you can speak! Cute..." the commander congratulated him, his gun's chamber clicking empty. "Hmm?"
Taking his chance, Duo sprinted forward, eyes triumphant as his bat swung around to take off the Faunus' head as he moved to reload his weapon. He then screamed in defiance as the Faunus ducked the swing, dropping the weapon before Argus planted his heel, and drove a dual-fisted punch into the boy's exposed stomach that blew him backward in a cloud of Dust and debris, and skidding across ground. He then tore apart the wrappings off his forearms, exposing the thick-ridged, red and white gauntlets beneath.
"Always forget to reload these... Knew there was a reason I hated these damn things." He kicked at the axe/gun with a tinge of annoyance in his voice, before clapping his fists together with a solid clang.
"Been a while since I've seen him bring Wicked Grace out to play," the woman next to me noted, licking her lips as she moved closer to me.
'One stab. It'd be so easy.' I schooled myself into some semblance of focused calm, focusing my Aura on healing my wounds, standing as an example. If not for myself then for those two remaining.
"He must want the Red Hand kid to suffer before finishing him off."
"Good. It'd be the least that he deserves. Vengeance for our fallen brothers and sisters," I replied curtly, gripping my blade so tightly, it hurt. I watched Conan's gauntlets shift, three small serrated blades ejecting outward along the length of his forearms, the furthest long enough to jut out past his elbows. A fearsome weapon.
'But it doesn't hold a candle to its wielder.' An air of palpable menace surrounded the man, a distinct sense of danger and oncoming disaster that set the hairs at the back of my neck on end.
"Sure, love. Whatever you say!" I shot her a stern glance, but decided not to fall into the spider's web.
Recovering from the blow quickly as ever, the Trapper charged at him, that seemingly the only strategy he had aside from crushing the old dog into the floor. He surprisingly had the presence of mind to feint, and reached out with his forearm in an attempt to catch Conan where he stood. The plan might have worked if the Blood Hound hadn't tracked the move, sidestepping as he delivered a quick jab that popped the appendage at the elbow with an audible *crack* that rang through my ears, followed shortly by a keening scream of pain, a follow-up strike across his face, and a slice across the chest with one of his blades, putting the youth on his knees, pawing at his wounds.
"You've got quite the Aura, don'tcha?" The fist fighter crouched down before his writhing opponent, cocking his head to the side inquisitively as the red sparks razed vivid paths across his wounds. "Well, what you're feeling quite vividly now is mine trying to acclimate to your body, and tearing it apart in the process. Don't really got a name for it, but the rest of the Hounds call this Semblance 'Ravage.' Fitting, but still a bit caustic." He delivered a few "light" slaps to the youth's face to make certain of his attention.
'Like a thousand blazing nails dragging their way across his veins.' That was a fair way to describe how "caustic" his Semblance could be. Every blow injected more and more, building until his foe begged for mercy, or, more likely, an end.
"Now, where I come from, we make it a point to introduce ourselves to our opponents. Gives a sense of honor to the whole thing." He pointed his thumb towards his chest. "Name's Conan D. Argus, Field Commander of these rowdy bastards. A few of which you've managed to kill yourself, it seems." He tapped his index finger against the stunned berserker's forehead. "So I'm gonna be watching you suffer in agony for a while, and, though you can't really see it, I'm gonna do it with an honest-to-the-gods smile on my face."
A saw a twitch of movement from the wounded murderer. From that, a flash of recognition dawned on my face as Argus looked back my way. "Stay focused!" Duo lunged forward, managing to get his hands on both sides of my comrade's face, preparing to snap his neck, his arm having somehow popped back into place incorrectly, though enough to get movement back.
My warning saved his life as the Faunus man managed to smash a mailed fist across his jaw, putting his attacker back on all fours, and followed up with a nasty rising knee to the underside of his jaw with a *CRACK.* His mask had been freed by the Trapper's attempt, revealing a somewhat gaunt, if sharp olive-skinned features, a wispy auburn-colored goatee, and reddish-tinged brown eyes that burned with a sudden mad vindictive fire as self-preservation and Aura took control. He launched into a brutal onslaught of fists and slicing elbows that I was barely able to keep track of. I wasn't the only one, it seemed, judging by the stunned amazement of his troops.
Duo tried his best to defend, but the feral Hound was just too fast, his feeble attempt to lash out either dodged or blocked, returned by three more blows in its place, each leaving behind red-tinged burning sparks in their wake that only furthered the agony. Finally, mercifully, the Trapper fell forward, bleeding from a dozen sparking cuts like a slab of meat, covered head to foot in bruises at the brawler's feet, Aura flickering out as it focused more on keeping him alive than keeping him standing.
"Now that... was a dirty... trick..." Argus panted out between breaths, straightening up while swiping at a few flecks of the boy's blood that hadn't yet been burned off by his Aura barrier.
'If the man had even used it.'
"Was wondering how a punk like this managed to put a mark on you, Taurus." He paused, watching as even the deepest, worst injuries closed before his eyes. "I've seen healing, but nothing like this. You really are a treat, aren'tcha?"
"Finish him, Argus!" I spoke up, moving forward, bringing Wilt to bear. "Or let me to do it! What are you waiting for!?"
"Didn't you hear, Taurus?" He stopped me, hand gripping my wrist just tightly enough to let me know that he could snap it like a twig in my current state. "Command has a standing bounty for Trappers brought in alive! And it seems that pretty friend of yours is recruiting."
"You...!? You can't be serious!?" I snarled, pulling my arm away sharply, pointing my sword at the prone Human. "He slaughtered my people - our people - not even a minute ago, and you want to bring him to that bitch!? Have him work for us!?"
"Why not?" he replied jovially, grinning a toothy smile at me, before replacing his mask with a hiss. "Way I heard it from Pollux, he was brought in asking to speak with her anyway. And if she doesn't take him, I'll paste his head to the closest wall, and toss his body to the nearest Grimm." He picked up the larger man with a grunt of effort, tossing him over his shoulder, and striding towards his fallen. "Now can someone pick up sleeping beauty over there!? Falkner, how's Currant!?"
A woman with feathers instead of hair in the same armor, if less bulky, stood up from the Blood Hound at her feet, still clutching at his stomach, groaning weakly. His face was pale as his Aura tried and failed to mend the damage. "Bleeding has slowed down, but his spine's pulverized. Barely even dust. He might live to get out of here, but he won't be walking when he does."
The medic moved forward, shaking under the sudden scrutiny of all present, but standing tall nonetheless. "I-I can treat him! Get him help, sir!"
The Canine Faunus scratched at his ears with a sigh, staring at her for a moment, before reaching to pull another tab from his belt, and passed it to her, ignoring the confused look on her face. "Stab that in his neck. That dosage should be more than enough to put him down without too much trouble. After that, go treat the lucky pup back there."
"I-I... W-what!?" she balked, glancing from the small syringe in her hand to the prone soldier with a look of horror dawning across her face. "T-that's barbaric! He's still alive! H-he can still serve a purpose...!"
"His only purpose was to take down any enemies he came across, or die in the attempt. If anything you'd just be helping him along in the long run. Trust me, the kid'll be asking for it himself sooner or later once his dose wears off. Might not be so easy when he does."
He then nodded at her, patting the woman on the shoulder as he passed her, while two of his men worked to haul the unconscious crab along with them, passing by the numb tech on the ground. The boy let out a little squeak of fright as Charlie hissed in his ear, causing her to giggle madly. I only hoped she hadn't taken a liking to him. Dealing with her was difficult enough for me at the best of times, and the objects of her affections had a tendency to wind up maimed or worse.
'Not that they could ever prove it.'
"Been looking for an excuse to visit Vale!" Argus bid farewell with a mock salute as he looked over his shoulder. "Personal business. I'll even tell the Queen Bitch herself you said 'hello!'"
I waited until they were out of sight and earshot, their cackling laughter fading before slumping to my knees, hand going to my sides as I slammed a fist into the floor. 'DAMN IT! Damn him and that woman!'
"Send a notice to our people in Vale, and warn them to expect trouble!" I harshly ordered, shocking the tech out of his shivering stupor. The boy then scrambled for the communications set up, doing his best to avoid looking at the bodies while sneaking glances at the medic, who was doing her best to comfort the wounded sociopath. "And give me a sit-rep on damages and casualty counts! We have work to do if we're going to be ready on time!"
The burden of command meant little time to mourn our losses, dwell on our failures, or spare a moment's thought for Blake, who was in the city. 'Damn her!'
-END
-CODEX-
Reinforcement- One of the many particularly useful and common aspects of Aura is its ability to strengthen the user's physical abilities, allowing for fantastic feats of strength and speed beyond what most would consider possible. By channeling one's Aura in focused bursts, however, one can push this even further, and can be applied in many various ways. From augmenting one's reaction times, to granting a blow with the force necessary to bend treated steel. While one of the more basic skills taught at Combat Schools across Remnant, one's ability to make use of this skill efficiently and in rapid succession can mark the telling difference between a rank novice and an experienced Huntsman.
White Fang Data Logs-
Blood Hounds Conditioning Factors: Originally proposed as a response to the "Trapper" operatives under the name "APEX," the "Blood Hounds," as they have come to be called, is a volunteer unit. However, many of its members have been referred due to personal problems or behaviors in recent years. Due to the group's shift from specialist to assault missions, each member has been exposed to and continues to receive a cocktail of various enhancers and other stimulants in the form of injections and other methods to augment their natural abilities even further in combat (See Attached Notes...)
...steroids, three variations of chemically-enhanced adrenal supplements, and, to top it all off, a distilled Dust enhancer for the sheer hell of it. Forget the combat benefits for a moment, and consider the fact that we've already lost a half dozen subjects to the withdrawal symptoms alone. I have reason to believe my daughter has also been skimming off our doses for her own use out of her dedication to the cause, which is something I can no longer allow. These people are addicted and suffering for it, shortening their own lives. Even their Auras have been altered, and their Semblances have somehow dulled. I am a doctor, not a dealer, and can no longer stand to be part of this cruel madness, beneficial or no. – Partial message recovered from the desk of the late Dr. Tobin Falkner, head of Research and Development on Project APEX. Addressed to White Fang High Command.
Dr. Falkner's growing paranoia and subsequent death in a workplace accident, while unfortunate, is only one of many our cause faces every day. He should rest easy knowing that I will be continuing his noble work, and have accelerated the selection process of volunteers for Project APEX. Recruit Argus has been especially receptive, the few documented side effects of our current formula having little to no visible effect due to the destructive nature of his Aura, allowing him to process a greater volume more efficiently. It is my hope that he and the others will be a tipping point in our fight against the enemies of equality, and I thank you for your continued support at this time. - Official notice to White Fang High Command sent five years prior by Dr. Erika Falkner regarding Project APEX.
-OC Voice Cast Introduced this Chapter-
Boris Kingsley - Steve Blum
Erika Falkner - Amanda C. Miller
A/N: So yeah when I said all those chapters ago that Eddy was going to try his damndest to get this fics rating back up he wasn't kidding. Kind of a short chapter here I know and a single POV to boot, (haven't pulled that since the first chapter I think) but I hope it was entertaining nonetheless. I haven't exactly gotten to play around with the Blood Hounds yet, their appearance more a plot point in the story thus far so actually putting them in has turned out to be a lot of fun and I hope I did them justice. People who read LMNH my other RWBY fic might recall Boris and Charlie, two OCs I took a liking to but sadly never used again.
For those who think Adam should've been tougher know that in a straight up fight he'd have crushed Briar, he was just caught off guard by Edward's Semblance, "Rapid Regeneration" or what Jaune did to that little cut of his on steroids as long as his Aura (Which he has a lot of) is still running strong. Now if Adam had cut off his head then that would've been the end of it, only he didn't. Argus on the other hand had more warning and could adapt accordingly.
Not sure whether I'm going to be doing the little memory segments or not. Basically it would be the Fanfic equivalent of filler for the most part as I wait for the story to continue describing short pieces of each members past overtime (How Ben lost his arm, Joel's time in Bastion and with the Trappers, etc.)
Also want to thank Thatjtkguy and other reviews giving their support for this story. I started this as a learning experience and it soon became a hobby I truly enjoyed and every review positive and otherwise has been grounds for me to continue on and keep improving. You're all amazing and I'm glad my work has turned out to be something you and others can enjoy, something I never expected when I started this. - Mojo
