It was a quiet ride.
Jerry had noticed that ever since things started going downhill, there was a lot less talking on the Skyranger. Nowadays it was less like they were flying out to an operation and more like they were headed to a funeral. There wasn't any banter, no back-and-forth. Hell, the only person talking now was Cole. A man of faith who prayed before every operation he went on.
A part of Jerry thought Cole was stupid for still having faith in something bigger. A part of him envied it.
"Praise be to the Lord, my Rock, who trains my hands for war," Cole muttered, barely above a whisper, "and my fingers for battle. My salvation and my fortress, my stronghold and deliverer, my shield in whom I place my faith, who leads the footsteps of righteous men, and defends the innocent…"
He could almost hear Fyodor's eyes rolling next to him, but Jerry had other things to worry about than faith or creed. His hand was still acting up. Grace had said that without some alien substance called 'Meld', it would be almost impossible to ensure that the hand functioned seamlessly. Worst part was, they had no way of getting said Meld. If it weren't for a good friend looking over his shoulder as of late, he wouldn't trust himself to be a triggerman at all. Too many ops nearly went south because of his hand being inconsistent.
Said friend gently shifted her hand across the Skyranger's aisle from him, Aura shimmering slightly as an invisible force reached out and held his offending limb steady. It was a strange feeling, truth be told, to basically have a walking magnetic field watching your back, but Jerry wouldn't complain about it when it was doing so much for him.
Pyrrha's eyes met his. She smiled awkwardly, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. He smiled back, and mouthed 'thanks.'
"...Cast forth lightning and scatter my enemies, Lord," Cole continued, a less-than upbeat accompaniment to their little moment of quiet bonding. "Let fly your arrows and decimate them. Send your hand from above, rescue us and deliver us from the hands of the alien, who speak only in lies, and in their right hand bear wickedness."
'Does he ever shut up?' Yang mouthed from beside Pyrrha.
'Not really,' Jerry replied, his smile involuntarily widening. Fyodor had always told him the first ride people had with Cole was the funniest, and this time was no exception. He always had his pre-battle ritual, and woe betide if it was interrupted.
"And O Lord, you who shepherd the innocent and give salvation unto sinners, cast your hand over these children. Strengthen their arm, O Lord, and fortify their hearts for the coming storm. Shower them in your abounding mercy-"
"This is your stop, gang, everybody off the ride!" Firebrand interrupted from the cockpit. The door to the Skyranger started to open, revealing a grey and dreary midday sky. Already, Jerry could see ADVENT dropships circling around the city. "I can't loiter, we got a LOT of company."
"God dammit, woman…" Cole grumbled, cocking his gauntlet and rising to his feet. The Multiple Munition Arm Cannon was a design that Team JNPR had somewhat inadvertently inspired; after Dr. O'Connor had gotten a handful of the business end of Pyrrha's shifting spear, he considered working the tech into a gauntlet, mounting three different weapon systems in one. Jerry hadn't seen the things tested yet, but he didn't have high hopes. How you would fit a rocket launcher, a shotgun, and a flamethrower into one gauntlet, he had no idea.
Cole was the first to disembark, and Jerry followed. The rest of the team dropped behind him one-by-one, with Jaune bringing up the rear, wisely using the ropes this time instead of just crashing into the ground like a wrecking ball. The Shūbun Dynamics building stood just across the street from the rooftop they'd landed on. Unfortunately, it seemed like the 'abandoned' old facility wasn't quite abandoned anymore; a line of ADVENT interceptors at least ten wide sat in front of the building, set up in a wall of metal stretching halfway down the street.
"That's a lot of fuzz," Jerry noted, looking to Fyodor. "Front door's compromised. We're not getting in that way."
"Yes, that much is obvious," Fyodor agreed. "Firebrand, how's the flyover looking? Any good insertion point?"
"Nada. There's no quiet way in, you're gonna have to go in hard and loud."
"Well, that's why we brought the Big Mac," Fyodor replied. "Cole, you're our resident evangelist Let's go do some ministry. Jerry, sync Mercy to our signal."
Cole smiled, and Jerry watched as the MMAC clanked, shifted, and extended to reveal a long, blowpipe-esque projector extending past Cole's elbow, a metal plate shielding the skin from it. That must be the rocket launcher component. Pretty impressive.
"Good tidings and great joy, Sergeant." Cole said, before leaping off the roof to the ground below. That was a hell of a jump, but the Spider Suit's exoskeleton would help deaden the impact, if only a little bit
"That guy freaks me out," Yang noted. "Am I alone in this? Am I the only one who finds this guy a bit creepy?"
"I couldn't agree more," Weiss said.
"Seconded," Jaune added. "Er… thirded."
"Cut the chatter, let's do this," Fyodor said, following Cole off the roof. Phil, ever silent in the face of the rest of the team's banter, followed, leaving only Jerry and the kids. Quickly, Jerry pulled M4-RC off his back, the GREMLIN quickly springing to life and extending its repulsors to float in front of him, chirping excitedly.
"Synced, little lady?"
The GREMLIN blinked twice in response.
"Alright, alright…" Jerry's attention turned to the street below as Yang and Weiss jumped down, the latter using what was obviously one of her 'Glyphs' to aid her descent, almost like a springboard. "God, I hate heights," Jerry mumbled under his breath as he jumped off the edge after them.
Landing was as rough as he expected it to be, and his attempt at rolling to his feet ended up as more of an awkward tumble onto his side. His gun clattered in front of him uselessly as his metal hand failed to brace his weight, causing him to land harshly on his elbow. A jolt of pain went up his arm all the way into his back.
'I hate this fucking hand even more.'
Jaune was the next to land, stumbling to a stop next to Jerry, eyes filled with concern. "You okay?"
"Just chop my hand off, Jaune. I'd rather live with the nub," Jerry grunted, forcing himself up to his feet. "Let's go."
Jerry struggled to his knees, slamming his metal fist into the concrete in frustration before grabbing his gun was the third time it failed on him in the middle of a bad landing. He'd get Shen to take a look at it again after the operation.
Jerry could hear Pyrrha landing behind him, far more gracefully than he or Jaune had. How she and Weiss moved so well in heels, he would never understand. In the now, there was an operation to focus on, so, back his focus went. Cole was storming ahead of the rest of the group, arm cocked back and lined up with the blockade.
"Firebrand," Fyodor called out. "How is ADVENT presence inside the building? Do you have a scope?"
"Back side of the building has a large glass pane, I can see two full Riot Control squads- Stun Lancers and Regulars. They're sweeping and clearing the building, but I'm seeing some dead ADVENT, too. There might be traps or allied personnel in the building, so watch yourselves."
"Anything on the front end?"
"Nothing that I can see, just those cars."
"Got it. We're going to try and scale the walls with our hooks, grab the VIP, then extract on the roof. Can you facilitate?"
"I can try, but ADVENT's gonna be hot on your ass the moment you blow your cover. Better make it quick."
"Got it, Cole's about to break the police line. Commander, you have a feed?"
"Got you on scope, Sergeant," Grace replied. "Give 'em hell."
"Understood. Alright everyone, hope you've got those hooks on!"
Jerry looked over to Jaune, who was checking his own wrist and fiddling around with the grapple gun. It wasn't armed or spooled, if he tried to fire the thing, it would just lock up.
"Red button on the top, Jaune," Jerry said.
Jaune smiled nervously and hit said button, the hook cocking back and opening up immediately in response.
"Attaboy."
With that, Jerry's attention turned to the police line. Cole slid to a knee, stopping himself dead as he braced himself for the MMAC's infamous recoil… and threw a punch. The ensuing flash of the rocket firing was nothing compared to the impact, as the rocket smashed into the hood of one of the ADVENT interceptors, sending it up in a ball of mangled steel and fire, and knocking its neighbors in the line flying to either end of the street. Jerry could already see ADVENT scrambling out of the untouched cars to try and discern what just happened, which meant they had a limited amount of time to get up the wall before the element of surprise wore out.
"Time to go!" Fyodor shouted. "Close the distance and aim for the roof, use your momentum to kick through the windows. The suit's exoskeleton will carry the impact."
Jerry watched as Fyodor extended his arm and fired the hook, sending him flying towards the building. That was a lot of moving towards a very high point. Jerry was not a fan. Still, there was no other reasonable way to get up there in , Jerry raised his arm, and fired. After a few seconds, the line went taut, and Jerry felt himself being flung towards the building at a bone-rattling speed, towards what appeared to be a narrow office hallway.
'Okay fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck feet out feet out feet out FEET OUT!'
Jerry had barely gotten his knees up by the time he hit the window, but the glass broke all the same. The landing afterwards was less than ideal too. Due to the angle he hit at, he fell backwards, landing flat on his back on a pile of broken glass that he felt digging into his arms.
As if life wasn't done with him yet, Phil slammed into the window next to him, sending more glass flying into his face, barely missing his eyes. Yang followed after him, having apparently decided that the proper method of ascent was to fly using the recoil of her weapons, with Cole bringing up the rear. On the other side of him, he could hear Jaune break through his window with a yelp as he slammed into a door across the hall.
"You good?" Jerry shouted, wiping the glass off his face and arm and forcing himself up to his feet. His right arm was bleeding, but it wouldn't cripple him.
"I'm okay!" Jaune called back.
"So, tell me, young lady," Cole started, pointing at Yang, "Did you just fly up here using fuckin' shotgun gauntlets?"
Yang smiled and shrugged, leading Cole to sigh as he grimaced at the MMAC. "Damn, I feel useless."
"Recoil must be a bitch," Phil said, before turning to Fyodor. "Where's the target, Sergeant?"
"Safe room's three turns down the hallway," Fyodor replied. "Let's roll."
"Doctor Reiben, my team just entered through the fourth floor window," Grace said, the comms static growing more intense with every passing moment. Reiben knew ADVENT would start trying to jam the signal as soon as they realized they'd found him, but he'd thought he'd have a bit more time to prepare. More time to gather his research. More time to…
No matter. There would be plenty of time to deliberate his findings with 'Dr Tygan' later.
"Very well, I'm gathering my belongings. Tell them to knock," Reiben said, grabbing the series of flash drives he'd had sequestered all around the room. The problem with ADVENT's centralized network is that even with firewalls and proxies, it was only a matter of time until they got a trace on him. It was always safer to shove everything onto portable drives and keep it close to hand in case he had to bounce, like he was doing now.
"Remember, Doctor, my team is highly trained for this kind of operation. Just keep your head down and-"
"Surely you know more about me than that, Grace," Reiben said, turning his attention from his papers and files to something more… personal. The shotgun that he'd been given by one of his associates in the event of a breach sat on his desk, next to an empty bottle of whiskey. He'd forgotten where he'd put the box of shells, but it would show up eventually. Ideally, he'd never need it. "How far from my position are they?"
"Seconds away."
"Right. Almost ready to go."
Reiben stuffed the flash drives into his pants and jacket pockets, and adjusted his tie. It was going to be a very intense going away party.
"Doctor Reiben, this is Sergeant Sidorov, XCOM. We're outside your safe room now. Open the door," a distinctly Slavic voice called over the comms. Grace must have handed them access to the channel.
"One moment!"
Reiben grabbed the shotgun, and hit the button on his console that unlocked the doors. "Come, quickly. Shut the door behind you."
The doors swung open to reveal a far larger extraction team than he'd been made aware of. His handlers had told him to expect 4. He was currently seeing 8, half of whom were dressed… rather oddly, given that they were part of a paramilitary organization.
"Doctor Reiben," Sidorov said, stepping into the room. The man looked to be about the Doctor's age. Not surprising—many men who'd survived the old war had turned to resisting the new regime, though few of that breed remained so defiant as the two of them, he'd wager. "We're here to extract you."
"Yes, you picked a wonderful time," Reiben replied. "I'm almost ready to go. Just need to find my ammo…"
"That won't be necessary, Doctor," one of the soldiers stated, a hulking behemoth of a man with a thick Burgundian accent. "We're plenty armed, trust me."
"Well, I'm afraid that since I just met you, I'm not going to be much trusting right now," Reiben stated, turning his attention to the four distinctly non-military personnel with them. Their states of dress… varied. Two of them, at least, wore the beginnings of armor, but one was simply wearing a long dress coat, and the other a long sleeved top and slacks. They were all armed with various melee weapons, including, in the case of the girl with the dress, an ornate rapier.
"What the fuck is this?" Reiben asked, pointing at the girl in the dress in particular.
"What's that supposed to mean?" the girl replied, voice laced with venom.
"Proof that your theories have some damn substance, now let's get moving. Command's getting psionic spikes in the immediate area," a soldier with a metal hand interrupted, taking a step in front of the girl. "Somebody wants you dead."
"Wait… my theories… you mean…" Reiben looked over the four children, then at the four soldiers, then at the children again. "Mein gott, you're serious."
"Oh, we're dead serious, Doctor," the last of the XCOM men replied. "Miracles do happen in this day and age."
The ammo could wait. The sooner he got out of this building, the sooner he could start asking these children questions. This wasn't a miracle, this was an absolute paradigm shift—what his colleagues had called the stuff of science fiction and fantasy, Reiben now could see with his own eyes. He had witnessed something completely unprecedented in human history, and he'd predicted it, like Nostradamus of old.
'Gott in himmel, I'm a FUCKING GENIUS.'
"Very well, then, we should probably get moving," he agreed, tossing the shotgun to the side. "I've collected all the data I have, it's all on the drives on my person. Once I'm on board the Avenger, we can discuss the fruits of my labor."
"Just don't get yourself shot," the big Frenchman responded.
Sidorov nodded, pointing at each of the XCOM team in turn, starting with the man with the metal hand, "Hall, Richard, and Cole." He then pointed to the children. "Schnee, Xiao Long, Nikos, and Arc. Stay behind us. It's likely that the aliens sent their Assassin to come and make sure we don't extract you."
"Wonderful, I'm most certainly glad to feel important," Reiben said. "Where are we going?"
"Roof," Sidorov replied. "Our transport—"
"Yeah, about that…" A female voice interrupted over the comm channel. "Freddy? Your best friend just showed up on the fucking roof."
Sidorov didn't respond immediately, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.
"You've gotta be fucking joking," Hall replied. "Do we have an alternate extraction point?"
"Why change our path?" One of the children asked, a girl with hair the color of blood. "We've beaten her before."
"Yeah, and we lost two men and my hand." Hall said, pointing at his metal hand.
"Let's try and get up there," Fyodor said. "Cole. CQC protocols. Firebrand, where are the ADVENT?"
"On their way to your position."
"Too bad for them."
Cole fiddled with a gauntlet on his right arm, which proceeded to extend at the front to reveal a series of three short metal barrels. Meanwhile, Richard lowered his and a large riot shield extended. Sidorov pulled two of what appeared to be swords off of his hips, swinging them downward to split them open and reveal a thin jet of superheated plasma.
"So that's what the Chrysaor does…" Cole muttered.
"See, Schnee? Earth technology," Sidorov said, cutting his eyes at the girl in question. She simply scoffed at him.
And to think, this was the team of 'professionals' sent to rescue him. At least it was better than that time in Halle.
Yang wasn't sure what this alien 'Assassin' was all about, or why everyone seemed so spooked by it, but she wasn't going to buckle at the thought of a challenge. As such, the moment they left Doctor Reiben's safe room, she was at the front of the charge. They could be afraid of a fight if they wanted, but Yang felt good about her chances. According to Nora, people from Remnant had a natural strength advantage over people from Earth, and that was before things like Aura or her Semblance came into play.
If Pyrrha was able to take down this Assassin, Yang could totally do it too.
"So what exactly is the plan on how to deal with it this time?" Phil asked. "I hope it's better than Go Home."
"We're ready for her this time. We know she's here, and we have surprise on our side," Fyodor replied. "She likely doesn't know that JNPR has returned yet, and even if she does, she likely isn't expecting Yang or Weiss to be with them. Jerry, how's it looking behind us?"
"Looking good so far, but it sounds like contact's coming," Jerry replied. "Reiben, please tell me you rigged the place."
"Oh, don't worry. They've been having a hell of a time getting up here, and they'll have a hell of a time yet," the doctor responded. "Oh, and, uh… make sure you take the grenade off the roof access door before you go up."
"Grenade off the-" Jerry trailed off, before groaning loudly. "Fuck's sake. Fuck's fucking sake."
Yang suddenly had a bright idea.
"You know, I don't think I will. I got an idea," Yang said. "Hey, Doc, how big is this grenade? We talking 'ouch my leg' big, or 'say goodbye to your house' big?"
"Leaning more towards the former but a bit bigger," Reiben responded.
"Alright then. I'm gonna have to borrow that then."
"Yang, please tell me you're not about to do what I think you're about to do," Jaune said.
"Oh, Vomit Boy, I'm doing exactly what you think I'm about to do."
"I do believe that's going to kill you," Cole stated conservatively. "Just a thought."
"You've not seen this Aura shit at work," Jerry responded. "I don't think it's a great idea either, but something tells me it's gonna work out fine."
"Yang, I swear to the Brothers above if you blow yourself up," Weiss scolded her.
"Weiss. Chill. I got this."
"Something tells me I'm going to regret allowing this…" Fyodor muttered.
The roof access wasn't far ahead, and Yang could see the grenade, tied the door at the upper corner. It appeared to be attached by some sort of thin wire, which meant that the moment she opened the door, it would start ticking down.
"Alright everyone, stand back! Xiao Long is about to do something extremely stupid for reasons beyond my feeble mortal comprehension," Fyodor said, putting Reiben between himself and Phil, who was facing back down the hall.
One last time, Yang weighed the action she was about to take in her mind. Was it a bit stupid? Probably. Was it risky? Most definitely.
Did it have the potential to be awesome?
'Helllllll yeah.'
With that, Yang ran forward and kicked the door open, the wire snapping from the force. Yang immediately grabbed the grenade out of midair, and tucked it into her stomach. "Got it!"
"Fire in the hole!" Fyodor shouted. "Everyone down!"
"This is a stupid idea!" Phil protested.
Three.
Two.
One.
The explosion hurt. It was like a small car had been driven straight into Yang's face, but it didn't break her Aura. The sheer force sent her flying backwards towards the rest of the group, where she felt someone catch her. If they said anything, she couldn't hear it over the ringing in her ears.
As soon as the pain subsided enough for Yang to move with something resembling ease, she smashed her fists together and fired up her Semblance. She'd like to see this 'Assassin' try and take her down now. Hearing was overrated anyway. Her Aura would repair the damage.
"I'm okay!" she said. "Let's go!"
Yang started off towards the stairs, sure that the others would be following. She could see a few flashes of red light against the walls, and turned to find Phil hiding behind his shield while Jerry fired over him at two of those 'ADVENT', both of whom had some sort of batons on their back and far less armor than the ones out front. As if on cue, she was starting to hear clearly again.
"-king hell, they're moving," Jerry said, ducking behind Phil to reload.
"Get to the roof, we're right behind you!" Phil ordered.
"Her hair is on fire, Sergeant," Cole stated, dumbfounded. "She's on fire."
Yang nodded and ran up the stairs, coming face to face with a tall, purple-skinned humanoid in black and red armor, who was immediately swinging her sword directly for Yang's head.
'That must be the 'Assassin'.'
"You know, I thought you'd be a bit smaller," Yang said, the sword bouncing harmlessly off her Aura. "Ah well."
With that, Yang threw a right hook that missed the mark by a good few inches. The follow up was much closer, giving the Assassin only the thinnest of margins to dodge. Her followup left straight was far less generous, sending the Assassin flying a good few feet to the other side of the roof.
"Hey, uh, Firebrand?" Yang said, turning on her comms again. "I got your roof problem. Go ahead and get over here."
"You sure about that, Xiao Long? It looks like to me- wait, are you on FUCKING FIRE?"
"Yes, but also no. Just get over here."
"I don't know what the fuck you mean by that, but you know what? Fine by me."
The Assassin, meanwhile, was struggling up to her feet, straightening her jaw ."You weren't with the others before… another one of these strange children XCOM seems to be relying on as of late. Tell me, child, what do you have to gain from siding with a doomed species?"
"Fun," Yang replied, cracking her knuckles. "Knocking your head off your shoulders seems like a good start."
"You can try." With that, the Assassin raised her sword once more, and dragged it across the ground, throwing up a wave of purple and black energy that surged towards Yang. In response, she threw her right into the wave, dispersing it with a single blast of Ember Celica, before firing off another with her left. The Assassin barely blocked the shot, the impact turning her just enough so that Yang could close the distance with a left to the gut, and a right to the back, the former of which produced a mighty crack. The Assassin couldn't even stand, dropping to her knee and reaching for the sheath on her back, which had begun to extend and form into some sort of rifle. Not that it was going to do her any good in this situation.
"I tried," Yang stated with a grin, and threw one last heavy right hand, firing a shell from Ember Celica. The impact of flesh and fist was crunchier than she expected, but not wholly out of the norm. What surprised her was how little resistance she felt after the initial impact. Even Grimm, which evaporated after a big enough hit, offered more of a shock down her arm during a solid punch. The next thing that surprised her was a very light impact across the entire front of her aura, obscuring her vision and causing her to hesitate before she followed her punch up with anything else.
As Yang wiped her face and opened her eyes, she found some kind of macabre modern art piece where the Assassin had just been. A small pool of orange—Yang thought it was blood. But it didn't really look like blood—spread out beneath her feet, but a massive splatter of the same stuff went across the roof and over the awning, and likely even into the street. In the place where the two patches of color met was a scattered, shattered pile of armor and the sheath-gun.
'Brothers, did I just…'
"Uh… these things have bones. Right?" she asked no one in particular, looking at the orange film covering her hands and dripping onto her boots.
Yang heard a loud whistle from behind her, turning to find a dumbstruck Jerry looking at his own metal hand.
"I'm gonna give you space from now on. At least three feet."
Yang shook her head, trying to clear the image that had been burned into her psyche long enough to focus on the task at hand. "Hey, Firebrand, we're ready to go!"
"Is my rooftop actually clear? I'm nearly there."
"Yeah, Assassin's dead."
"Very dead," Jerry added.
"Alright, I'm on the way. You know the drill, VIP first."
Comms closed, and Yang turned fully to Jerry. "You guys need any help? How's it looking back there?"
"Fine. ADVENT's bugging out. As soon as they saw Jaune and Pyrrha, they booked it. No idea why," Jerry explained, before calling back down the stairs. "Yeah, we're done here!"
"Huh. Weird." Yang shrugged her shoulders. "Glad, though, less work for me."
"I certainly can't disagree, but ADVENT never retreats—they regroup. We need to break, and quick."
The rest of the team followed Jerry up the stairs, each of them in turn looking at the stain that had once been the Assassin. Jaune and Pyrrha turned a deadly shade of pale, Phil gave a harsh whistle, Fyodor, Reiben and Weiss both cringed, and Cole… smiled.
"Love to see it," the man said quietly, giving Yang a thumbs up. "Absolutely love it."
"Gott, you're a sadist," Reiben muttered.
Yang didn't see what there was to like. It was finally registering in her head that not only had she straight up killed a sentient being, even if it was one that wanted her dead. She turned said being into a puddle of bloody paste at her feet and a massive orange stain in front of her. She'd done it effortlessly.
And she'd enjoyed it.
Yang wasn't expecting to see that salad she'd had right before this mission so soon. Then again, she hadn't expected to paint the roof in blood.
So she painted it with the contents of her stomach.