A/N: TW for death and some gore.
Sienna failed.
That's the first and most overwhelming thought in her mind. Not that she's dying, but that she's failed.
Sienna has people who depended on her. Good people, who deserved a chance to live. People whose only crime was wishing for a life with more than just war. They'll soon be dead, through Taurus' purges or the fights he forces them into when they're far from prepared. Sienna herself will be dead, and it will be for nothing.
Sienna didn't picture herself dying this way. She pictured herself as a martyr. Someone who would take a bullet for another, someone who would sacrifice everything for others. She knew she had enemies, dangerous enemies, and she knew of the everpresent threat of the Grimm, but she never imagined herself dying because of them. Never.
She's staked on a cross, as some sort of perverse mockery of her fight. Smaller scavengers are already arriving – a vulture rips at her boots where the nails are driven through them, tearing off flesh – and the Grimm won't be far behind. There are two guards posted, to drive away the larger Grimm that will kill her quickly. She's not even allowed that mercy.
There's a cyanide pill in the inner pocket of her jacket. Standard for all White Fang members, in case of capture. Death is far better than being tortured into giving up information. Sienna's hands are pinned down, one stake through each palm, so not even that death is possible now.
Both guards are low-ranking grunts, paying more attention to their own conversation than their surroundings. Why would they be better? Sienna has no escape.
"Hey!" she calls down to them, voice weak and raspy, and they hear her and glance up.
"Shoot me." It comes out as little more than a whisper, and it feels like giving up.
"Taurus said to leave you for the scavengers," one says. He looks uncertain. He's been taking orders from Taurus and Sienna alike until recently, and patterns formed over a lifetime don't fail easily.
Sienna coughs, wincing at her broken ribs from the fight earlier grating against each other.
"There's a fuel cache two miles West. It's all yours if you agree." The cache was her plan for an emergency, her chance to run. She knew she would never take that chance, but she kept it all the same. It's no use to her now.
The guards have a whispered conference, then a flash of light. There's no sound; the bullet is far faster.
Sienna has failed, but at least she is free.
…
"Keep your flashlights off to save their batteries," Ruby insists, flicking on her own. "And stick together, no matter what."
She doesn't hear them confirm, but soon there are hands on her shoulders. A physical point of attachment if one of them falls, but also an immeasurable comfort. Ruby continues, slowly, boots slipping less than she'd expected. There's no debris, she realizes soon. No sand or gravel or dirt for her to slip against, just flat concrete. There's no wind or rain to erode the surface, but there are air currents even in a sealed underground structure, and water seeps into concrete and freezes to break it apart, and geological activity is a possibility. The place shouldn't be this clean.
"Someone's here, and they've been doing housekeeping," Ruby comments, trying to calm her nerves. She could very well be leading her team into a trap, but they don't have another option.
There's no response from her team, but Jaune's fingers dig into her shoulder more tightly. They continue onward, none of them speaking. There's less echo than there should be, the sound of each footstep being funneled away from them until everything feels muffled. The narrow, flickering beam of the flashlight, trained on the tunnel further ahead, does nothing to dispel the darkness around them.
The tunnel comes to a halt abruptly, at a steel cage. Ruby shines the flashlight across the mechanisms it's attached to. A generator, motor, and set of vast gears.
"Just an elevator," she says. "That's our way forward."
She steps into the steel cage, trusting it to hold her weight, and beckons to her team to follow her. They do, reluctantly.
"Are you sure the machinery is still intact after a hundred years?" Jaune asks.
Ruby doesn't know, but she says yes. If her team panic and lose control in a place like this, they're all dead. The thin steel plate under her feet is the only thing keeping her alive, and she'd prefer not to consider the possibility that it's worn out.
Once they've all stepped in, Ruby shines the light around the interior of the cage, looking for controls. She finds none, but chains clank and the cage begins slowly descending anyway.
"There's definitely someone in here, and they like visitors," Ruby says, still trying to stay positive. There's no response from Jaune and Ren, who both look pale in the beam of the flashlight.
The concrete closes around them, so close to the gaps in the walls that Ruby could touch it with both hands without moving from her place. The only way open is up, so she looks up instead of at the walls, but that's a mistake. It feels like she's being lowered into a grave.
The elevator stops with the screech of metal against metal. Ruby shines her flashlight to each of the walls, finding the open one quickly. The tunnel here is bare rock, equally smooth and free of debris.
"Let's go," she says, and they follow her. The tunnel narrows as it continues, taking abrupt turns. Ruby notices the variation in the rock at each turn; most are tougher than the sandstone and salt deposits that make up most of the tunnel walls. Whoever built this wasn't concerned with where the ending of their tunnel was, and saved costs by blasting through more malleable areas. Sensible, and Ruby appreciates sensible. Whoever's here is practical, so at worst they'll get shot and tossed outside for Grimm to eat. Cheerful thought.
"Stop," Ren says, and Ruby stops instinctively. "Listen."
The faint echoes of their footsteps fade away quickly, leaving almost no sound. Jaune's too-fast breathing, her own heart, a faint sound from farther inside the cave that might be water dripping.
It isn't. It's too irregular, Ruby realizes. There are sharp taps and clicks at what sound to her like random intervals, punctuated with the occasional dull thud.
"What is that?" she whispers.
"Sounds like four legs, maybe six, pacing," Ren responds. He's a tracker, not a Guide himself but he picked up their trade, and he's good. Good enough to tell that much from faint sounds.
"Why is it down here?" Jaune asks, fingernails digging painfully into Ruby's shoulder.
Ren doesn't respond.
"Should we go back?" Jaune asks.
Ruby considers it. Leaving may save them from whatever is down here, but it'll condemn them to a death from hunger and thirst in a short time. If there are people down here, they're Ruby's best chance at her team surviving. If not, at least they'll die quickly. The Grimm are mercifully fast.
"Keep going," she says. A faint roar resounds through the tunnels, and she nods, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "It's our only hope."