Quick leaps carry her along the darkened city's skyline, her body light as a feather.
In mid-air, she sees a gleam of crimson in the dark, swooping down with a pointed beak and sharpened claws.
"Hup-!"
A round from her gauntlet sends her spinning, her heel cracking the smaller Nevermore's mask over its left eye. The avian grimm loses air and crashes into a building below. A second round tears through its chest, and the creature disintegrates into a cloud of black mist.
"Forty-three!"
A flap of massive wings and an incoming shriek reach her ears, their source the massive blur of darkness barreling towards her. Her gauntlets are empty. There's no time to reload. No time to dodge. She plants herself and readies to meet the massive Nevermore head on.
The blur reveals itself to be a giant beak, easily wide enough to swallow her whole. The giant Nevermore gets a mouthful of roof and her as it plows straight through the building, Yang catching the upper mandible as it tries to close on her, the wind rushing past her with a pull on her stomach as the passing street and buildings in the corner of her vision becomes night and open air.
Holding the huge Nevermore's beak open, Yang wrinkles her nose as the smell hits.
"Gross! Ever hear of mouth-wash?" With Ember Cecilia running on empty, she can't just unload into its throat and call it a day. There's another way, but the burning in her nostrils is a quick veto to that. "Yeah, no way that's happening. Hmph-!"
She tenses her abs, pulls her shoulder back and twists.
There's a snap. The Nevermore immediately stops its flight upwards, jerking its head back and forth as its jaw goes limp, a screech of pain spilling out from its throat. Still holding onto the upper beak, Yang kicks off the now-limp lower mandible and swings onto the top of the Nevermore's beak, aura anchoring her even as her platform spasms in the air.
It tries desperately to shake her off to no avail. A few careful steps put her right between the creature's burning eyes. Yang draws her fist back.
The first punch cracks the mask, the frenzied flailing stopping as the Nevermore just manages to keep to the air with a few weak flaps of its wings.
The second goes through the mask, a visible dent in the creature's skull as it begins to fall.
Yang falls along with it, passing back through the already dissolving cloud of black smoke as she plummets towards the city. She reaches into her belt-pouches, reloads Ember Cecilia with two feed strips of ammo, and fires off two rounds to slow her fall, landing atop another roof with a picture-perfect Superhero Landing.
"And that's forty-four." Yang cheerfully declares. She pats her hands off. She takes a few steps forward.
A full-sized, adult Griffon immediately lands in front of her, claws cracking the roof tiles. Its head rears back. A screech echoes from its beak. Yang readies herself for number forty-five with a smirk.
And 'forty-five' immediately collapses to reveal five shadowy katanas impaled into its back, a familiar face standing amidst the copied blades.
"Oh. Hey Blake."
"Yang." Her partner gives a nod and hops down from the already-dispersing corpse of the Griffon. "Do you know where Ruby and the Schnee are? I kind of lost them."
"Heh. Me too." Yang rubs the back of her neck with a sheepish smile. "I'll send Rubes a message."
She pulls out her scroll and dials. It rings for one second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Then-
"YAAAAANG-! I CANNOT believe you ditched me! AGAIN! How could you?! We're supposed to be a team! I'm telling dad!"
"Sorry, Ruby! But uhhh~, look I found Blake!"
Blake lifts an eyebrow at her partner and gives a dull wave to her team leader's face on the screen.
"…. Ugh. Where are you guys, anyway?"
"Think somewhere near the East Wall." Yang glances around. "Oh hey, it's that Sunny's Sundays we always go to."
"That's kind of far away… don't go anywhere! We'll come to you."
"But-"
"Don't go anywhere!"
The feed cuts off. Blake looks to Yang with a raised brow. Yang gives her partner a sheepish shrug.
"Let's just hang around here, I guess?"
"That's fine."
There is a bit of an awkward silence. Both partners instead turn their focus to the sky, ready to unload on any grimm that gets within their firing range. Out the corner of her eye, Yang glances at the dual, shadowed pistols in her partner's hands.
"Looks like you're getting some real use out that seal whiskers made for you."
"It is actually incredible. You have no idea how convenient it is. Maybe I should… never mind." Blake glances up, seeming to think about something for a moment, only to dismiss it. She fires some shots into what looks like empty sky to her, only for a faint screech to echo in the distance as a smaller Nevermore falls out of the darkened sky and into the lights of the city below.
"Nice aim. Do you even need to reload those things?"
Blake opens her hand, one of the pistols disappearing. Then, she closes her hand, and it reappears again. "Done."
"Damn. I gotta get whiskers to get me one of those."
"No offense but I don't think it'd work quite the same for you."
"Huh? Why not?"
"I get the feeling he tied each of our seals into our semblances. He really put a lot of thought into these."
"Oh yeah. For sure." Yang lets out a sigh and a few rounds into the void. "Really wish the ice queen had just pulled the trigger on her plan to ditch. Whiskers would fit our team way better."
"Tell me about it. But that's the Schnee for you. Personal gain over everything else." A slight scoff. "My guess is the only reason she 'chose' not to go through with it is that Naruto actually told her to screw off and denied it."
"You really think whiskers said no?"
"More than the Schnee having a sudden change of heart."
"Why wouldn't whiskers want to be on our team?"
"… He probably has his reasons." Blake answers after a slight pause. "Other than the obvious."
Yang snorts out a chuckle. "Yeah, I guess there are certain things a fifteen-year-old boy would want a private room for, eh?"
Blake cracks a faint smile at that.
Then, she sees something in the distance and frowns.
"Hey… the civilians are all supposed to be in the bunkers, right?"
"That's supposed to be the procedure, yeah. Why?"
Blake nods in the direction of the Eastern Wall, her eyesight on an alleyway between two buildings. Yang squints at the shadows, taking a few seconds to make out a faint blur of movement.
"There are two of them. They're wearing black cloaks, so it's hard to see." Blake explains.
"Sheesh, you've really got some good eyes… you sure that's not just some grimm?"
"Positive." Her partner confirms. "Want to check it out?"
"Ruby's gonna be mad~." Yang stretches with a groan. Then, she smiles and pumps her right gauntlet. "But she'll be madder if someone gets hurt. Let's roll."
Blake nods. They set off. From roof to roof, Yang follows her partner's figure in the dark, the introverted bookworm a silent shadow in the crimson moonlight. Soon enough, she sees them too, two figures in dark cloaks moving slowly but quietly in the shadows. They close in fast, and as soon as they're close enough, just as the figures are about to exit the alley into a street, Yang leaps off of the building to cut them off.
"Hey, wai-!"
Her partner's words are lost to the wind as Yang lands in front of the suspicious duo, "Hey there! Not really the time to be out for a midnight stroll, don't you think?"
They don't respond. Blake lands behind her. And, for the first time, Yang sees the faces of the two figures.
A plain, utterly unremarkable man and a red-haired girl around her own age.
"More huntresses… what do we do?" the man says in a dull voice.
"Ain't it obvious? Or is that big red eyeball in the sky scrambling your brains too?"
The red-haired girl flicks her wrist out, a small silver flute sliding into her hand. She brings it to her lips.
"We kill them like all the rest."
The whistle of the flute fills the air.
Pain.
"Agh-!"
The melody of the flute isn't shrill or unpleasant. If anything, she'd almost call it nice if it didn't ring her ears like someone blasting a speaker full volume right next to her head. Her entire body locks up. And, somehow, over the sound of the flute, she is able to hear the faint 'thump' just behind her.
'Blake-?!'
She glances behind her to see her partner collapsed onto a heap on the ground.
'This sound, it's Gen-!'
She turns back around just in time to see the fist that slams into her face. Her vision flashes white and red. Her head rings like a bell. The punch is sloppy, entirely without any form or training, but the sheer force behind it launches her off her feet, out the alleyway and into the door of a car parked on the street, the metal denting inward as shards and bits of glass fall over her shoulders.
Her consciousness swims like a fish in a washing machine. Warm iron fills her mouth, and something dribbles down her chin.
"Ugh…"
"Pft, what the hell? That was pathetic." She hears a voice scoff. Female. The red-haired girl. That little... "Whatever. Hurry up and kill the bitches so we can get on with it. It's about time for the other guy to be waking up too."
Yang forces her eyes open. Blake's still on the ground. The man's standing over her. He has one foot raised, as if he is about to stomp on a bug. Blake. Shit. Fuck. Not like this.
Move.
The unremarkable man's foot falls.
Then stops as the man leans his head back to avoid a car door. Two dust rounds shriek through the air and he raises his arms to defend. The projectiles explode against his guard, and Yang unloads the strongest punch she can into his exposed stomach.
The man folds.
There is no aura shielding. No armor. Just blood, flesh and bone like concrete. Her return stroke launches the man back and away from her downed partner, the red-haired girl dodging her own partner's flying body as if it were a piece of discarded trash.
The man tumbles to a stop behind her, rolling across the ground. He lays there for a moment. Then, he gets right back up, looking no worse for wear aside from the new holes in his cloak.
"Hmph. So that's how it's gonna be huh?"
The red-haired girl brings her flute back up to her lips.
Standing protectively over her unconscious partner, Yang spits out a glob of blood and raises her fists, a throwaway line from lunch earlier this week drifting back into mind.
"Yeah, with those guys you either have nothing to worry about-"
Above the screeching and the shouts and the chaos of the long night, the whistle of the flute fills the air, and Yang feels her muscles begin to lock up as the song pierces her ears.
"-or you're absolutely screwed."
And the unremarkable man rushes towards her, fist cocked back.
'Well, fu-'
Of Heroes and Monsters
Chapter 29: The Long Night(Part II)
From inside one of Vale's many underground bunkers, one wouldn't know there was a battle raging above the ground for the fate of the city.
An amphitheater wide enough to house thousands of people with plenty of fresh water, snacks, amenities and entertainment, all brought together for the sake of distracting the civilians within the bunker from the chaos sweeping over the land of Remnant. It is bustling, more closely resembling a concert than a place to sequester thousands of civilians during the long night. A veritable underground city to allow the heroes of humanity to fight freely without the need to worry about the common folk getting caught in the crossfire. Space for those who need it, company for those who want it and sound-isolated rooms for those content to sleep the long night away.
In this bunker, there is a young boy in a red shirt.
He is largely unremarkable. There are many little boys in this bunker. Little boys, little girls, big boys, big girls, men, women, adults, elderly and children and everything in between. From all walks of life. The young couple, happy to be up this late at night with each other. The elderly couple, thankful for just one more month. The parents, excited to welcome a new life into the world, the parents in the throes of said new life and the married simply content with each other. The single and lonely. The single and content. The together and content, and the together and lonely.
But, they are not the focus of this story. For, amidst this bustling display of life, it is the little boy in the red shirt and him alone who goes to the trembling man in a dirty grey hoodie in the corner.
"Are you scared, mister?"
The trembling man shifts. His hoodie is pulled up, obscuring the entire upper half of his face, but the young boy still feels the man's eyes on him.
"… What... did you say?"
"Are you scared?" the young boy asks again. "You're shaking, so that means you're scared, right?"
"… Yes. Yes, I am." The trembling man answers with a slight scoff.
The young boy sits down next to him and puts a hand on his hand. "That's okay! You know, mommy says the only time when someone can really be brave is when they're scared."
A faint, hollow chuckle. "Your mother is a smart woman… can I confess something to you?"
"Confess? Did you do something bad?"
"I did…"
"That's okay! As long as you apologize and promise to do better next time. That's something mommy told me too!"
The man lets out a hollow chuckle and takes a shuddering breath. Despite the hood covering his face, he looks up to the crowd of people.
"I've always wondered how people could live so happily when this world is just so… horrible. The grimm run rampant all over the lands. We hate and kill and enslave each other over stupid, simple things like where we were born or what animal parts we do or don't have. Yet, people still managed to be… happy in this awful, awful world."
The young boy gives him a confused, innocent look. "Yeah, I mean… There are lots of bad people and bad things out there, but there's also lots of good stuff too. Like ice cream! And cookies! And sure, sometimes mommy won't let me have any sweets until I eat my vegetables, but I don't mind. That's why I want to be a huntsman when I grow up!"
With shining eyes, the little boy looks up at the ceiling of the bunker. "Everyone has to eat their vegetables, but the huntsmen are like people who can eat the vegetables for you! Yeah, there're a lot of scary and bad things in this world but there's also a lot of cool and good things too. So, if some of us can just take away some of the bad, then there's gonna be a lot more good for everyone else!"
The man lets out a pitiful, hopeless little chuckle. "Ahh~, that's the answer, isn't it…? They don't live so happily in spite of this world. They do because of it. Because every one of us has to eat our vegetables. And our dessert is that much sweeter for it."
He holds up a trembling hand and stares into his palm.
"All my life, I always looked for an answer to this emptiness inside of me, blindly searching for something that never existed…" A pained chuckle. "I was so busy trying to make something of why I hated vegetables so much that I forgot to have my cake. Ah~…"
The trembling man lets out a choked sob and curls into a ball. "… I really wish I could've had some cake..."
"Ah-! H-hey, don't cry mister!" the little boy tries to comfort the man. "There's some cake right over there! I can go get some for you, it's okay! So, don't-!"
"I'm sorry…"
"Mister…?"
The burned man looks up at the little boy with the red shirt, through tears and burning red eyes.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry… I'm sorry. I'msorry. Ims-"
…
"Team JNPR, there has been an incident in shelter 17H. We don't know the details but you're the closest team, so we're leaving this to you. Please investigate it with caution and haste."
"I, uh- we got it! We're on our way."
'Shit shit shit shit shit shi-!'
She ducks under a swipe that takes out a chunk of the nearby wall.
The kick is clumsy and entirely off target. The follow up is just as bad.
No form. No skill. No technique. The guy may as well be a really big Ursa Major for all of the thought behind his swings. And she could beat one of those with her eyes closed.
So why is she having so much trouble with this guy? Two reasons.
One, the limp body of her partner under her arm. And two-
The whistle of a flute pierces her ears. Her muscles lock up. And WHAM.
A fist to the gut and Blake falls to the ground as Yang drops to her knees, clutching her gut. A foot to the face sends her tumbling back. Yang picks her face up from the ground just in time to see the unremarkable man lift up a nearby dumpster about to slam it down on her unconscious partner.
'Oh no you don't-!'
She activates her semblance.
Heat and strength fill her body as the air around her ignites into flames, her hair glowing gold and her eyes shifting red as the dumpster falls. Yang smashes it out of the way. Careful not to step on her partner, she leaps at the unremarkable man with fire and fury.
She smashes her fist against his jaw. It's still like punching concrete, but this time the concrete gives. She takes him down and puts him into the ground, each punch putting him a few inches deeper into the asphalt, neck, chest, ribs, sternum, stomach, face, Yang raining down punches.
Then, the whistling comes. Yang immediately goes for the source of the sound, stomping on the man's face one last time for good measure, sprinting for the red-haired girl at the end of the alley as the song tries to lock up her muscles. But, she powers through with Burn, the feeling like every single muscle is cramping at the same time only fueling the fire of her semblance.
The red-haired girl never stops playing. Brown eyes observe her approach with calm. Yang hurls a punch at her face, fully intent on smashing that damned flute alongside the red-haired girl's jaw.
She tilts her head back, and her fist goes wide.
There's a split second of shock, if only because the man had taken every blow like a sack of potatoes. But it only lasts for that instant. Yang fires off a flurry of punches. And the red-haired girl ducks, weaves and dodges each and every one, playing her flute all the while.
She hops back a few steps. Then, she stops playing and lowers the flute.
"Done already?" Yang shouts, trying to hide the slight heaviness of her breath. "Kind of a shit song if you ask me. Your performance could really use some work if the only damn thing you can do is put people to sleep!"
The red-haired girl returns the flute to her sleeve, raises her arms and smirks.
"Nope. Just don't feel like wasting my breath on canon fodder."
Yang growls.
She rushes the red-haired girl.
But every punch is a miss. Every kick goes wide. The red-haired girl weaves through her strikes like a crimson shadow, returning a quick series of strikes that hurt even through her aura. The pain becomes anger. The anger becomes panic. The realization of just how in over her head she is blooms with a starburst of pain as a fist digs into her side and a follow up kick knocks her into burly arms and the sloppiest chokehold in the history of chokeholds.
'Shit, this guy's back-'
Yang jerks her head back, feeling the satisfying crunch of a nose breaking against the back of her skull. The grip around her neck loosens. She grabs the unremarkable man's arm and heaves him over her shoulder, slamming him against the street, picking him up again and then slamming him against and almost through the wall of one of the two buildings forming the alley.
The unremarkable man grunts as she puts him into the stone and brick.
Then, his eye flashes a strangely familiar crimson and he grabs her arm in turn.
SLAM. The world spins as she is lifted off her feet and put through the other side of the wall.
SLAM. Her vision goes white, black and then red. SLAM. SLAM. The unremarkable man smashes her against the street once, twice. Then, weightlessness as she is thrown, pain as she hits the ground and numbness as she tumbles across the ground.
"Ugh…"
Yang tries to pull herself off the ground, her body hurting in places she didn't even know existed, and her aura feeling like it's a soft breeze away from shattering like glass.
'Okay… the boring guy doesn't know how to throw a punch but is way stronger than me and built like a brick… and the red-haired bitch has some sort of long-ranged, sound-based Genjutsu and can kick my ass in hand to hand… okay, what's the win condition here…?'
A foot slams into her side, and she tumbles across the street, feeling the hard asphalt as the fire of her semblance goes dark.
'Aaand my aura just broke. Well, fu… fu…?'
She hears something like a high-pitched whine in the back of her head. A warmth spreads from above her stomach, and the pain starts to subside, like a cool breeze wrapping around her as she feels the fading embers of her aura suddenly grow, grow and grow into a roaring flame, burning hotter and brighter than ever before.
For a second, she isn't sure what's happening. Then, it clicks. She smiles.
'... Thanks whiskers.'
Lilac purple flickers red… then returns to the soft violet, a faint golden glow emanating from the iris. She looks up, just in time to see the unremarkable man above her with his boot raised.
The foot falls.
And then stops, Yang catching the leg by the ankle. She throws him back. And the unremarkable man flies crashing into the upper floors of one of the nearby buildings.
"That's more like it!" Yang grins, hopping to her feet, feeling the strength and power coursing through her veins like a wildfire, her long blond locks burning with a ghostly golden flame.
The red-haired girl glances at the endpoint of the unremarkable man's flight path in shock for a moment before looking back to her, narrowing her eyes and bringing the flute back to her lips.
Not a moment later, the unremarkable man leaps from the building and lands next to the red-haired girl. The remains of his cloak are gone as is his shirt, grimm-esque red-markings spread across his torso and his eyes burning a familiar crimson.
"We're taking too long, Tayuya." The unremarkable man declares as the whites of his eyes darken, his iris fade to a red-banded, dark yellow and his teeth become fangs, bits of spiked bones piercing through rapidly paling skin. "Use your cursed seal. We can't let her contact one of the more powerful huntsmen."
"Don't fucking tell me what to do."
Yang takes her stance again, fists raised.
This power, whatever whiskers did with his seal, feels like her semblance turned up to eleven, but without the fog of anger stopping her from thinking. And so, with a clear head, she thinks. She glances back at her partner, and at the duo before her, and thinks.
"… Alright, everyone done pulling out the stops?" Yang declares. The transformed man and the red-haired girl both turn their attention to her. "Then let's-."
She immediately turns, grabs Blake's unconscious body and bolts.
Because this fight isn't about her pounding in the red-haired bitch's face and breaking that stupid flute. As much as she'd love to do just that.
It's about surviving, living to fight another day. It's about getting her partner to safety. If she goes down, they're both done for and then those two get to just go and continue on without a care in the world. No way that's happening. No way she lets that happen. Yang darts into the street and jumps up, climbing up the side of the building. She gets onto the roof and goes for her scroll.
Goodwitch. Ozpin. Call for help. That's a good idea. Any of the professors really, any of the stronger huntsmen or huntresses or at least someone who can get her partner out of the line of fire. She just needs to open her scroll, call for help and-
A shriek comes from overhead.
'Uh oh-!'
She dives back into the alley. Because at least there they were safe from all of the grimm flying overhead. She lands right as the transformed-man and the red-haired girl reach the street, both immediately looking back at her.
"Heh, don't mind me! Turns out I'm going this way!"
Yang turns to dash away.
A shadowed blur leaps over her, the transformed man landing and the asphalt cracking beneath his feet.
His arm blurs.
Yang throws her head back, the rush of wind that follows telling her just what would have happened had her head stayed in the path of his fist.
'Oh, come on! He powered up too?!'
She goes for his legs. A sweep catches his ankle and throws him off balance, the follow up round house cracking him in the chest. The whistle of the flute reaches her ears, but there's no effect, and Yang goes for her scroll.
Three massive shadows appear over her.
Immediately, she leaps away as a giant club smashes the street into rubble and she's still in the air when the transformed man meets her, his fist cocked back.
Yang puts her body protectively around her partner as the fist slams into her side. They fly through the air, back towards those three giant shadows. And she keeps her un-aura-protected teammate wrapped up as one of those giant clubs meets her like a baseball bat meeting a baseball, sending both of them hurtling through the air, Yang still holding onto her unconscious partner for dear life as they crash into the street a ways down.
"Ugh… you know Blake… about now would be a really good time to wake up…" Yang groans as she sits up, somewhat amazed that her aura actually held for all of that but still feeling the heat. She immediately goes for her scroll, making a mental note to really, really, show whiskers just how much she appreciates him if she makes it back. "Come on, come on…"
She just gets past the lock screen when an impact against the asphalt signals their arrival. She blind dials without even having the chance to see who as she tosses her scroll to the side and gets back to her feet, the transformed man and the red-haired woman making their way down the alleyway towards her.
"I knew your hunters all had shit for brains, but even I didn't think any of you idiots were that dumb." The red-haired girl scoffs. She looks to the unconscious Blake. "Come on, why don't you just ditch the deadweight? You might actually have a chance of surviving if you do."
"She's my teammate, and it's called not being a self-absorbed asshole. Maybe you should try it some time?" Yang growls. She takes a breath and forces a smirk. "But you are right, it's not very fair, is it? Both of you against little ol' me? Why don't you try ditching your big strong bodyguard there and fighting me one on one? Come on, he can even hang out at that SUNNY'S SUNDAYS JUST DOWN THE STREET! Of course, you know, unless you're scared…"
"Tayuya…" The transformed man says again with warning.
"Hah! Oh, I know, I know, I don't want to tangle with the Great and Terrible Ozpin himself either. So, let's do this."
The red-haired girl brings her flute to her lips again. The whistle of the flute fills the air.
And three giants manifest behind her, each taller than three grown standing atop one another's shoulders, each blind, deaf and mute, one wielding a club the size of a motorcycle, one with ramshackled claws of bone attached to its arm, and one with its entire body wrapped in bandages, spikes protruding from its bound head.
"You go for the sleeping bitch, and I'll aim for the glowing one."
They sit in a karaoke booth in one of Vale's many underground shelters, the room filled with a soft red light and the karaoke machine left entirely untouched. Because the truth of the matter is that when you get into the 18+ zones and generally shadier areas of Vale, a place with sound-proof walls becomes that much more desirable.
Of course, there are plenty more people who use said rooms as a quiet closet to bang out quickly. In fact, that's generally the main and understood purpose of the karaoke rooms in most bars. But here and tonight, a hundred feet underground there is no spark, no flame, no passion or desire. Just calm, cool calculations made over two glasses of whisky.
On one side: Roman Torchwick, crime lord of Vale.
On the other: Junior Xiong, bar owner and information broker.
"I'm just saying, my associates would be very interested in meeting him." Roman Torchwick stresses, relaxed back into a sofa. He takes a sip of whisky and rolls the ice cubes around in the cup. "What do they want with that annoying, masked brat? Hell if I know. But they do want to meet him. In person."
Junior Xiong lets out a frustrated sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "And I told you, you have to give me more than that. If things go south, it'll be my ass on the line."
Torchwick lets out a scoff. "What? Are you telling me you're actually afraid of that brat? He's just a little kid with a really big stick. When red carved out his eye, he didn't do anything to her in return. Didn't even touch a hair on her pretty little head!"
He takes a sip of his whisky.
"I've seen people like him before. The poor, tragic heroes abused by society, desperate for external validation.." The crime lord jeers. He rolls his eyes. "I'll tell you now, that kid would fall for the first attractive female to treat him like a normal brat and spread their legs for him."
"Congratulations. You caught him on a good day."
Torchwick lowers his glass. He observes the information broker for a moment.
"Then, do tell. What is a bad day for that brat?"
"Go look in the Bingo Book."
There's a pause. The two criminals stare at each other for a length of silence. Torchwick leans forward, places his glass onto the table and leans back into the sofa. He fishes a cigar out of his white coat, brings it to his lips and lights it.
"My associate's name is Cinder Fall. I don't know all the details of what she's planning, but one of the reasons she's here in Vale is to get in contact with the masked brat. Probably wants to hire him to join her crew, but I don't know for sure. There are five of us right now. Two brats, some White Fang mutt, her, and me. She recently brought in some priest but I don't know how much she plans to actually involve him in our plans."
Junior raises an eyebrow. He leans back a bit. "Hmph. You're pretty quick to switch sides, aren't you?"
"I don't have a 'side'. My 'side' is staying alive." Torchwick takes a puff of his cigar. "I always took all of the rumors and speculation surrounding that masked brat as tabloids and headlines to get peoples' attention. Pure sensationalism. But, from your reaction… now I'm wondering if there's some truth to the stories."
He taps some ashes off from his cigar.
"He burned the Great Village Hidden in the Leaves to the ground… he killed the Third Mizukage… he killed the Third Hokage… he killed the Sannin, Orochimaru and destroyed the unofficial Village Hidden in the Sound… he massacred the Atlassian Military's 1st Battalion and the Special Forces Division down to one person… so much of it sounds like the talk of drunk house-wifes with nothing better to do, just piling it onto his backstory and trying to outdo each other, one after another."
Torchwick gives the cigar a once over, eyeing the smoldering embers at the cigar's butt.
"But the fact of the matter is… where the Villages of Hidden Leaf and Hidden Sound were six, seven years ago are smoldering ruins infested by grimm. The third Fire and Water Shadows and the Snake Sannin are dead. And the word 'Nasuno' still sends shivers through the spines of any Atlassian. Without a doubt, those things did happen. The Burning of the Leaf… the Shadows' deaths… the Scouring of the Sound… the Schnee Kidnapping Incident…"
He looks to the information broker.
"The only question is how many of those events were just the brat walking into the storm and somehow making it out the other side and how many of them were the brat bringing the storm."
Junior is silent for a moment. Then, he lets out a hopeless little chuckle, takes his whisky and downs the entire glass.
"How much of the 'storm' did he bring, huh… well, I probably know about as much about that as you do. But let me just say this Torchwick…"
He sets the empty glass on the table and holds his face in his palm.
"There's a monster inside of that kid. A real monster of monsters. And if it gets free… we're all screwed."
"This is… shelter 17H, right?"
Team JNPR stands before a massive steel-plated gate, one of many dotting the cityscape of Vale. There is nothing above and nothing to the sides, the elevator to one of the many underground bunkers simple but effective in its make. Pyrrha taps the screen of a console next to the gate. Sure enough, the numbers and letters flash over the screen: Gate 17H. Please provide identification if you wish to proceed. "This is. Jaune, I think you need to…"
"R-right."
The leader of Team JNPR shuffles over and swipes his scroll. The light at the gate goes from red, yellow, and then to green, the gates rumbling open to provide access to the newbie huntsman team.
"Well…" Jaune gulps. "Let's go."
The teens step into the massive elevator, four alone in the empty chamber meant to hold hundreds at a time. The steel-plated gates close behind them. There is a faint rumble, a massive click, and that tell-tale, faint sense of lifting as the platform descends into the earth.
"Whoooa~. You know, it's really crazy how much effort they put into these underground bunkers!" Nora notes to help fill some of the space, a slight strain to her smile. "In Mistral they just shove us all in a barrier."
"Barrier?" Jaune asks.
"It's the same kind they use in Soshima, I believe." Ren tries to help and elaborates. "Though, from what I hear, the kind they use in Mistral is far less effective… not to mention it is only the larger and richer areas that can afford to have them installed…"
The last part comes out surprisingly dark from the typically stoic boy. Nora puts a hand on his shoulder.
Jaune shivers as they go deeper and deeper and deeper underground.
"It's probably nothing, right?" Jaune chuckles nervously, more to himself than his team. "I mean, come on, there's… there's no way they send in a bunch of first years if there's an actual situation, right?"
"I would hope so." Pyrrha says. "I'm not exactly certain of the procedure here in Vale, but I would imagine they have guards and medical staff on duty. If they are sending us, there must be a need."
Jaune gulps. "Yeah… yeah… I mean, heh, this is, this is what we signed up for right? Huntsmen and huntresses! Heh heh… Heh…"
"You okay there Jaune?" Nora asks. "You're looking kind of pale. And I don't mean like a pasty-pale, I mean like 'about to pass out from sheer terror' pale."
"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. I'm fine. It's just…" his words come out in entirely unconvincing bursts, and the leader of team JNPR takes a deep breath. "I just… I didn't expect things to get this bad."
Ren lets out a faint chuckle. He gives his leader a reassuring smile. "Believe it or not, this… is actually about what's expected. Everything may seem to be chaos, but it's actually in a careful balance. This isn't some one-time, apocalyptic event that no one saw coming. The major cities deal with this on a month-to-month basis. And, from what I've seen, they are far more adept at handling the circumstances than most of the settlements outside of the Kingdoms."
"Oooh~ yeah! Like, WAY better!" Nora adds. She gives Jaune a pat on the back that almost barrels him over. "So, don't sweat it! I'm sure everything is going to be juuust fine!"
Jaune actually cracks a smile at that. A weak one, but a smile nonetheless. "… Thanks Nora."
Nora grins and gives her leader a thumbs up.
The elevator stops. The locks and plates begin to release as the great doors slide open.
And it's silent. An absolute, dead, echoing silence, like walking into an abandoned building in the dead of night.
"… Hey… aren't… there supposed to be tons of people down here?" Jaune asks, immediately breaking out into a cold sweat. "How… how come we can't hear them? Shouldn't we be able to hear them from here?"
Pyrrha takes her spear and shield from her back. "… Something is very wrong."
The rest of Team JNPR draw their weapons. Pyrrha leads. Nora and Ren follow. Jaune trails just behind. Their footsteps echo in the darkened passage. The hallway expands out before them a hundred feet, a metal tunnel easily large enough to drive three dump trucks through, side by side.
"Maybe… maybe, maybe they're all just asleep?! Yeah, heh, I mean it's pretty late, right?" Jaune breaths out through increasingly shallow breaths, his heart feeling like it's about to beat straight out of his chest and through his armor. "That's gotta be it, right? They're just asleep…"
They arrive at the gate to the bunker. Pyrrha goes to the control console.
"… It's not working." She looks to her partner and leader. "What should we do?"
Jaune lets out a hopeless chuckle. He tries to force a smile, fails and tries again. "God, I… I want to get away from here. I feel like this is… I feel like we're about to get in way over our heads."
A pause. A sigh.
"… but they sent us. And on the off chance my gut's not wrong about what's going on in there… we gotta get in. Now."
Pyrrha smiles. She nods and turns back to the gate. "I can get us in but… please do not speak of this to anyone else."
"You can? But ho… w…"
Jaune's question is lost to the wind as the reigning champion of the Mistral Regional Tournament raises her arms, and clenches her fists, as if grabbing the handles of a door. A black aura, like static, covers her hands. Her muscles tense, the definition, like marble chiseling, visible in her arms, shoulders and back, as she pulls, face twisted in focus and exertion. Slowly, and with great effort, her hands come apart. And-
SHRIEEEEEEEK-
-the rest of Team JNPR watches slack-jawed as the massive steel gates slowly come apart until there is an opening big enough for them to pass through.
"Whew!" Pyrrha lets out a breath and perks up. Looking like she had just finished a light jog instead of moving thousands of pounds of metal. "Shall we?"
"Oh, er- y-yeah. Yes. Onward!"
Jaune enters first in an attempt to salvage whatever is left of his masculinity. Ren follows after. Nora stops, gives her teammate a nod and nudges her with an elbow. "Damn, girl! You got them guns!"
Pyrrha lets out an awkward chuckle and rubs her arm. "Please just… don't tell anyone I can do this."
Nora makes a zipping motion over her lips and they head in.
The silence inside is worse. Because they should have heard something by now. Anything. Heard or seen some signs of life instead of the echoing nothing that's haunted them the whole way down.
But there is nothing. All they hear is the sound of their own footsteps. And all they see is the final stretch to the last gate, their path illuminated by a sourceless, dull red light.
Here, rows of unused turrets line the ceiling. The last line of defense should the above ground city fall and the grimm are allowed to spill into the underground bunkers. A last bit of assurance for the worst-case scenario that should never come to pass.
They get to the final gate and the accompanying console. This one is dead as well. Jaune looks to his partner, and Pyrrha nods. She goes in front of the gate and, just as the one before, begins to open it.
The shriek of metal breaks the silence. The gate opens, ever so slightly, and the smell immediately hits them.
Blood.
"Oh no." Pyrrha pales. Immediately, she draws a hand back and thrusts her arm forward with the full might of her semblance, the impact thundering through the hallway as Polarity rips an opening through the steel doors. Team JNPR rushes through. And the smell hits them a hundred-fold as they step into the dark.
The floor is wet. The air is moist. And finally, they hear a sound from within the bunker.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Returning her shield to her back, Pyrrha shifts her weapon to rifle mode, activating the flashlight at the scope.
Bodies.
Bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies.
Some torn to shreds. Some, crushed into paste. Blood seeps out of the piles of scattered flesh and meat and bone and pools onto the lower floors.
Pyrrha lowers her weapon and covers her mouth in horror.
Jaune stumbles back, the floor suddenly swaying like a raft in the middle of a storm at sea, his breaths becoming quicker and shallower.
Then, hands clasp them both on the shoulder, and a sense of calm washes over them, like a rising sun after the rainfall.
"Focus." Ren says, removing his hands from their shoulders. His expression is grim but resolute, both him and Nora, the scene of carnage before them seemingly having not had quite the same impact on the childhood friends as it did on them. "What do we do? Leader."
Jaune gulps. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and holds his face in his hand for a moment in thought.
"… Who… whatever did this is probably still here." The leader of Team JNPR lifts his head and addresses his team. "Let's… let's stay together. Look for survivors. Just… give me a second to contact the coordinators above ground."
He takes out his scroll and opens it. Or he tries to at least. The scroll is entirely inert, not responding at all as he presses the power button.
"Huh? Did I forget to charge it last night…?" Jaune looks curiously at his scroll. "Hey, I think my scroll's out of power. Can one of you call…?"
"Hey!" Nora pulls out her scroll and blanches. "Mine is too!"
Ren does the same and furrows his brow. "As is mine…"
"Or…" Pyrrha slips her inactive scroll away, holds out a hand and closes her eyes. A black aura of static gathers around her hand, and she furrows her brow. "… There's a magnetic field that appears to be interfering with our scrolls. Please give me a moment. I… think I can do something about it."
She leans her weapon against her leg and brings her hands to her chest. Her face tenses in focus, that black static gathering around her other hand as well. A moment passes. And she throws her arms out, an invisible wave rippling out from her position.
At first, there's nothing. They check their scrolls. Still dead. But, after a few seconds, there is a distant whirl, and the lights begin to flicker on one by one, revealing the scene of the carnage.
It's even worse with the room lit up. The bodies are strewn about, innards and entrails covering the floor like gallons of a bloody, meat-based salsa. There are clear signs of impact, broken furniture and glass and craters and chunks of metal carved out of the walls and claw marks dug into the steel.
Jaune gulps as he takes in the horror. Not even one. Not a single body is intact enough to even have the possibility of life. "Let's-."
That's when they hear it. A low moan, echoing from the hallway leading to one of the sub chambers.
"Iiiiimsssssrrryyyyy…"
The dull hiss almost resembles human speech. Clang. Screeeech. Clang. Screeeeech. Heavy footfalls and the sound of claws scraping against the steel.
Pyrrha takes aim with her rifle, Milo.
Ren crouches down for cover.
Nora hefts her Magnhild in grenade launcher form.
And Jaune raises Crocea Mora's shield, trying his hardest to keep the sword from falling from his trembling grasp.
It emerges, over twenty feet tall on all fours.
The form resembles almost some cross between a man, a hairless racoon and a starved dog, stretched and exaggerated almost to the point of impracticality. Its limbs are each longer across than the body itself. Its arms are gangly but muscled, ending in jagged claws, each over half a foot in length. Its skin is leathery and taut, tiny wisps of hair just visible across the dark form. Its head is canine in shape, the typical grimm mask white in color, but with dark blue and yellow markings in place of the usual red.
And to its chest, it clasps a bloodied red shirt as burning red eyes turn to them and the creature rasps,
"Iiiiiiimsssssrrrryyyyyy…"
AN: And we're ramping. I'm traveling this week(am already vaxxed) so I there are some parts I wanted to change but didn't get a chance to so this chapter might get updated in the future. So, I'll just ask the usual. Favorite part? Least favorite part? Anything you're looking forward too?
As always, thanks for reading. And I'll see you guys next week.