Within the past few seconds, Whitley had decided that he hated sand. It was rough, coarse, irritating, and it got everywhere. That wasn't even remotely close to the worst part, though. The worst part was what the sandstorm raging around them concealed.
"Ren, on your left!" Nora shouted.
Ren turned, and his machine pistols spat out bullets that downed the bat Grimm about to snatch up another person. Ravagers, they were called. As Ren turned, Whitley could see the tears in his eyes. If you looked closely, behind the veneer of determination, all of their defenders, Ren, Nora, Oscar, Winter, even that Emerald girl who used to be bad but was good now were all suffering, and not because of something trivial like the sand.
Weiss hadn't come out of that portal, or her team. Or that blond one with the shield. There was only one explanation, they were dead. Killed by that mad woman that Whitley had barely gotten a look at before Weiss and her team started fighting her.
A group of new Grimm, some sort of insect Grimm came scuttling into visual range, and the boy with the cane, a boy that couldn't have been much older than Whitley, surged forward and beat them back, first with strikes, and then with some sort of green energy. Was it his Semblance? And why did he look so sad when he was using it?
Whitley couldn't help but watch as they fought, what else could he do but panic? What else could he do, except watch as those he once dismissed as violent and barbaric risked life and limb to protect everyone present, including himself.
Ren using his grappling hooks to slam a Ravager into a group of those insect Grimm.
Winter calling down lightning with some power that didn't quite make sense.
Nora knocking a Grimm into next week with a swing of her hammer.
Emerald taking pinpoint shots at nearby Grimm that either felled them or severely wounded them.
And... Oscar, that was his name, hitting a Grimm with rapid fire jabs, moving so fast that it looked like he was on fast forward.
Whitley decided that he was wrong. He was wrong to think them barbarians. Yes, they were violent, but only because they had to be. They had to be because they were protecting everyone, willing to lay down their lives just like-
Just like Weiss.
What they were doing was right, he decided. It was right and just and noble and good. Without them, they would all be dead by now.
"Shit, everyone duck!"
It barely registered Whitley's mind that Winter had just used fouler language than he had ever heard her say, because one of the Ravagers had gotten past their defenders and... and...
Was headed straight for his mother.
What could he do? What should he do? For an agonizing eternity that existed in a second, those questions bounced around his mind, until a third joined them.
What would Weiss do?
His body moved before his mind had caught up, he shoved her to the ground, and took her place. He cried out in pain as the Grimm's claws tore through his shirt, he started flailing as he felt his feet left the ground. "Mother!" He cried, the name feeling odd to him, as he hadn't said it without sarcasm in years.
"NO, WHITLEY!" She screamed. "NO, NOT YOU TOO!"
Winter whirled around, and saw. Saw her baby brother being borne away by a Grimm. And she despaired, because she knew full well that if she went for him, others would die.
Not like this! Whitley seethed internally, I don't want to die here in this gods forsaken wasteland! Not when I have to... have to...
The pain started to dull, and Whitley felt some sort of... fire spread from his chest to every point of his body, and he felt alive. More alive than he'd ever felt before. He looked at his shoulder, and saw a pale blue glow.
Aura. He had just unlocked his Aura.
Luckily, thanks to his wonderfully retentive memory, he remembered a few of Weiss's training sessions with Winter that he had eavesdropped on.
Weiss, Barrier Glyphs work on visualization.
He stretched forth his hand, fixed an image of the top of his father's desk in his mind, and prayed. For a precious few seconds, nothing happened. Until something did.
A Barrier Glyph sprang to life, right in front of the Ravager, and it slammed into it at speed. It released an unholy screech, and dropped him. He quickly formed another glyph underneath him, now that he know how to do it, it was much easier. However, unaccustomed to physical activity as he was he fell to his hands and knees.
He looked up, and saw the Ravager coming at him again. Almost reflexively, he formed yet another glyph between him and it, then another on top of the Grimm. He had seen a hydraulic press once, during a tour of one of the SDC factories. He hoped beyond hope that this would work, and moved the two glyphs closer together.
The Grimm struggled, it screeched, it tried to get out from between the Barrier glyphs that were crushing it, but to no avail. In the instant that the Ravager should've burst into an explosion of blood and guts, it simply evaporated, leaving behind the glyphs, and Whitley.
He let the two extra glyphs fade, and using the one underneath him to lower himself to the ground. Then he ran, back towards the sound of fighting, back towards Weiss's friends, back towards his mother.
"Whitley?" Willow whispered, upon seeing her son, who she thought was gone forever, emerge from the storm. Despite the danger, she ran to him and embraced him. "Oh, Whitley, I'm so glad that you're-"
"Mother, how do I summon?"
She shook her head, "No, I'm not losing any more of my family to this madness."
Whitley looked up at his mother, and pleaded his case, "Please, Mother. I just want to do what Weiss would have done."
Willow screwed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together. All of her children really did take after their grandfather, for better or worse. "Alright, Whitley." She relented. "Visualize the Grimm you want to summon, look back to the memory of when you defeated it, how it made you feel, and it will answer your call."
Whitley nodded his understanding, and ran. Ran towards the front line, towards the barbaric violence that he once swore that he would never partake in.
Nora was the first to notice him. "Whitley? What are you doing? Get back!"
Whitley dropped to his knees, placed a hand on the ground and focused. Focused on the memories of that night in the manor. Of that... Super-Grimm that they had all fought. Hiding behind the desk, Weiss saving him and their mother with an ice wall, and finally him and his mother pushing over that statue crushing it.
And then how he felt, when Weiss came back for them, when he and Willow had worked together... it felt...
Like they were a family again.
A summoning glyph appeared, and out of it crawled that Grimm, that... Hound. Whitley stood, and urged it forward, watching as one of its arms reached out, plucked a Ravager from the sky, and slammed it into a group of those insect Grimm.
Whitley took a breath in.
"We all have to carve our own path."