Remnants of the Grid

The gentle white pulse of energy washed the darkened and dirty space with a faint rainbow of light, optical fibers awash with data migrating from one circuit board to another, the soft ticking of the ancient hard drives barely rising above the low hum of the electrical current that sustained it all.

The old monitor sat, powered down, no output was needed as there had not been any input in so very long a time, yet soft and faint, lights indicated that the collection of hardware was still on, running, a task not yet finished, processes running in a cascade of kernels and threads, exponentially growing in complexity, even as some problems were solved, new questions arose to take their place, every un solved equation spawning three more like it, variations on a theme expanding in the face of every byte of ram and every hertz of processing power pushing against the tsunami of data that built slowly, but surely, like a single blow torch against a glacier.

Someplace, in the space between the ones and zeros, something other than electric sheep shimmered in the moments of quantum confusion, an image, a universe, shimmered in and out of existence, built upon the electrons that stoically marched their way along the pathways of circuits, the subatomic particles taking the same shapes on, over and over and over again, like a single cell shaded portrait of a moment flashing, projected upon a torn and faded white screen dangling on a wall in a dark unlit room, a story unfolding in the void, a pinprick of light fighting defiantly to be seen, and acknowledged…

/~/

Out here on the Fringe, one had to be careful, wary, and on guard.

It didn't matter which Server, or which Level, aside from the safer and well established lower levels on each, the wilds on any of the Nine Server's upper Levels would be dangerous, the higher Numbered Server's more so, and no place was so unpredictable as the Fringe. The outer limits of the map always had the most raw and malleable data, the building blocks of the game, made up of excited and carefully manipulated electrons. One's and Zero's was all it was in a sense, pulses and patterns of electricity. Here on the Fringe, one could, with just the tiniest bit of cheating, see the grid work of data that made up the game universe, but when you didn't have to cheat to see it, was when you had to be extra careful.

Staring out over the vast wasteland before him, he could see the telltale shimmering glow of the maps edge. What looked to be some sort of geyser spewed bright colored water and steam up into the air, bits of what looked like smoldering rock sometimes popping out to a lesser height, gases and dust being kicked up from the opening. Lifting a small misshapen looking device to his eyes, he peered at the disturbance in an otherwise empty, if not rugged and sprawling view. What he saw now, was code, data, threads of it, and the grid work that was constructed from it.

He watched a small part of the octagonal the grid fold in on itself, an event that while not unusual, was still awe inspiring for the subtle varieties of how this went about happening while few, never seemed to be consistent in their patterns. Sometimes two overlapping grid frames would just merge and fold in on one another in a seemingly endless struggle until a pattern established itself, the churning image locking into an endless logic loop that became an animate fixture, until the next recycling happened, then, who knew if it would remain or resolve or simply vanish. There was no pattern to be found, no reasoning behind it, just a plex of numbers trying to resolve down to the simplest of terms, but never getting there. Other times it would just blink out of existence, a merge resolving itself into a single eight sided shape, or as often as not, blinking out into raw code, before dissipating into a void, to be filled later. Or sometimes, rarely, yet inevitably, the void would remain, lost for all time. Or worse, it would become a tear, and from it, Spawn would emerge.

To avoid the pitfalls of the Black Spawn, one only need any or all of three solutions; run away, hide, or fight. Most hid, entrenched behind massive barriers, encoded with an ever evolving and constantly updating data stream. Such measures worked wonders, so long as the power was available, data flowed, so long as data flowed, code could be generated, and if the code was good, it would manifest in the game world as resources, and they could be assembled and threaded, woven into a defense that could withstand the degrading and corrupting power of the spawn. But the moment the power was cut, a cascade of failure would follow, starting with the data, slowly dissipating into nothing, then the code would stop generating, becoming finite, and locking down threads into whatever it was until the process could began anew. If it ever did. After so very many years however, it did not seem possible that it would, despite hushed talking of what would happen when, and not if it ever did. He doubted anyone would openly admit to thinking it ever would, or even if anyone ever believed it even could, but there was talk. There was always talk.

Thankfully, he was not much for talking if it could be helped, he much preferred action, and out on the fringe, there was always action to be had, if you knew how to go about looking for it. The Grid was ever changing out here, yet steadfast in that single thing, no matter whatever else might happen.

"Qrow?" a raw and dispassionate contralto resounded behind him, the shimmer and shifting of space from her semblance dissipating the only other out of the ordinary sensory input to be had.

"Yeah?" he replied in his rough and almost grating voice, his pale red eyes shifting towards his sister, as she crossed her arms over her front, impatient as ever, she frowned then lifted her Link up, waving it in his face; "Did you drop your Link again? Taiyang and Summer have been trying to contact you for the last five minutes, they found something and need our help."

Qrow blinked then looked down to his belt, and lifted his Link. It was inert, powered down. "Heh, sorry, I disconnected it because I thought I had found something and didn't want to draw any spawn until I'd mapped it out." He powered his Link up, and once it had reconnected, he got the notifications of missed contact attempts. Whoops…

"Idiot, this is untouched landscape," she snapped at him, even as she brought about her weapon, and her semblance activated, a portal forming behind her; "there is no telling what is out here, and cut off like that, a spawn could have fraged you and we'd never know unless we stumbled upon a pile of your leftover bytes out here, which could take days to do so, even if we knew where to look."

"Fair enough I guess, now any idea what has both Summer and Tai asking for our help all of a sudden?" Qrow asked as he sauntered towards the portal.

"Whatever it is, it's big, and given the nature of Taiyang's last message, I doubt it's good." Raven replied as she loaded fresh ammunition into her sword's sheath and lowered her helm into place.

"Hmm… So be ready for a fight?"

She rolled her eyes behind the mask; "I highly doubt we're going to be having an orgy."

He grimaced in reply as he paused a few steps from the threshold, and drew out his own weapon, "Eww, we're siblings, that would be gross."

She hip checked him in the ass, pushing him right up to the event horizon, his image distorting slowly, "I'd clearly prefer Taiyang for that sort of interaction thank you. Come to think of it, Summer would too."

"This is why I drink you know." He said as he smirked and hefted his weapon over his shoulder before he was warped away to wherever the rest of Team STRQ was.

"Because you're a fucking bum?" Raven asked him as she mimicked the gesture.

"No, because my baby sister is a blood lust addled slut." Qrow said before he hopped backwards into the portal, warping away to the destination.

Raven took a swing with her empty off hand but only got a fist full of air for her trouble.

"Only by ten fucking minuets!" she shouted as she followed him, the red and black tear in the games manufactured reality collapsing upon itself only a second after.

-20 years later RGT (Relative Game Time)-

The Nexus malfunctions where really becoming a big fucking problem.

Sand, dust and scrub brush as far as the eye could see, and the only structures to be found, where an apparently abandoned, single story train station that could have been from any two or three other Servers that came to mind, each of which was one that she had not explored or even visited, and a weathered and crumbling crossroads, metal and wooden signs faded and degraded beyond any usefulness. And the sun, larger than life, shone high in the sky, nearing its apogee, burned down upon her relentlessly, the heat waves making the distant horizon boil and ripple in obscuring shapes that denied her any meaningful orientation. There was a massive mountain range to the north, capped in snow, but it was hard to judge how far away it was with any kind of accuracy. Surely no less than three or four days journey away, if she had her MOUnT with her, which of course, she had left back home with Adam and Ilia. At the least she had her box of holding, and in it, at least five days worth of full food and drink that she could stretch into a full two weeks if she went on survival rationing. But that hardly allowed her to figure out where the hell here was.

Closing her eyes, she brought out her Link, activating the map, and then promptly muttered a potent curse as it took shape in an unfamiliar animation style with a font she did not recognize, the vast majority of it blacked out save the area around where she had spawned, all of the information currently available said simply "Unexplored, Server 5 Level 4, Region Unknown", a grey marker at the edge of the circle her Avatar Marker was in the center of. Switching from the map to her inventory, she sighed as she saw nearly half of her tools and weapons were locked out, angry red slashes across the icons captioned with "Unavailable" or "Server Incompatible" at the top. Now which age was Server Five set in? Something in proximity to the recent past no doubt, or recently predating the founding of the Grid at least, but who knew how long ago that actually was?

"Shit." The single word slid out like a sword being dramatically drawn for show. Her amber eyes narrowed in the blinding light as she looked back at the train station, and she sighed as she moved towards it. At least next to it or inside, there was shade to be had, and it was a map marker, so if nothing else, she might get a better idea of where she was by the name of it, or possibly any flavor text that might be found attached to any items within. It beat standing around and baking her brains under her dark hood and cloak at any rate.

Walking across the worn and rusting tracks and then the decaying asphalt that almost blistered her feet through her thin leather boots, she was only a few meters from the main door when a name shimmered at the top of her vision, her Link beeping softly as the map updated. "Yvonna Lake Station" slowly faded from her view, and she squinted as her head rotated looking for this alleged lake. A dry lake possibly? Likely given the arid desert landscape she found herself in. This was a far cry from the gentle rolling hills and thick forests of her home server. Miserable amounts of sweat started to run down her face as she pushed the door open, the stale air inside almost as hot as the barely blowing wind outside.

A fallen rack of some sort held a number of faded and disintegrating papers, maps and magazines it looked, almost totally useless for anything other than starting a fire, which in this heat, was about as wanted as a branding iron to the nipples. Shrugging out of her dark hooded cloak, she laid it on what was left of a wooden bench, and then she tossed the space, digging into every container she could find, some rusting metal lockers turned up some currency she vaguely recognized as American, some ammunition that would work in the one pistol she could still use, and an ugly hat she would wear right after she was fraged to zero and couldn't care how bad she looked in, assuming anything was left of her avatar by that point. Breaking into the only other space, which looked like a ticket booth, she found a safe and a clunky looking computer beyond use. Cracking the safe took three tries, but inside was a wealth of currency, a decent looking and substantial if somewhat archaic handgun, two whole boxes of ammunition for it, and some other odd valuable trinkets she instinctively pocketed for use in the near future.

Rubbing at her face, she then gently pulled at one of her ears, before she saw something underneath a folded newspaper that was half disintegrated. It was a weathered, dust covered red button, big and brightly colored with a single word stamped on it: 'Signal'…

She tapped it lightly with two fingers, before she sighed, "… This is a bad idea." She then made a fist and smashed down on it as hard as she could.

Nothing happened for a solid five seconds, before a hissing erupted from someplace outside, and then the sound of fireworks went off like a small disaster in the same space, smoke and light tinting the broken windows behind her all colors of the rainbow.

Once the chaotic noise subsided, she sighed and gathered her loot, and her cloak, then pulled her helmet from her inventory, and placing it on her head, felt it seal down into the rest of her sleek armor, a soft hum announcing that for now, her futuristic garments still worked. Unless… Link in hand, she double checked her inventory and scanned the clothing items. Her simple scouting armor was all green, since she was wearing it, but the assembled set had a timer on it. She had just less than two hours before it would be rendered inert and unusable, the caption "No viable Power Source Available" hovered over it. Her combat armor was already locked out, and all she had left was an even simpler and stripped down set of unpowered armor and some street clothes. All of the mods, attachments and extensions and the buffs they granted were already locked out. At least her current armor was still fully functioning, the sleek Hunter style set would keep her alive even in the vacuum of space, until the power ran out, and for now, if the weapons she had found were indicative, the shielding would let her tank most of what the NPC's and Players here could throw at her, and even when depleted the basic protection would hold out for much longer than anything else she might encounter. Until it locked down at least.

It was then she realized that the pool of magic she was used to feeling in the edges of her person, felt greatly reduced. Checking her abilities, she realized that using any one would deplete her reserves, instead of just making a small dent, and her regeneration rate was now at half.

"I am not specked or equipped for this Server at all." She said out loud, to no one in particular. At the least, her innate physical advantages seemed to be intact, in fact, other than the oppressive heat, she had not felt so strong and energized in some time. Reaching for the bench her cloak had been resting on earlier, she grabbed it with both hands, and hefted it up with much less effort than she would have thought needed, the crumbling wood breaking under the sudden motion, and crashing into the ceiling almost gently.

The faint droning rumble of some kind of motor from outside, drew her attention, and she bolted to the door, smashing through it as if it was cardboard, splinters scattering into the dust before her as she slid to a stop. Looking to the west, down the only one of the two roads that would alllow, she saw a dust trail drifting up from the pavement, a vehicle moving towards her at a good clip, four squared headlights shimmering in the heat waves between it and her. The shape was wide, low slung, and black, with the glint of silver and gold along the middle of it.

Pulling her Link out once more, she equipped her black and purple colored GDS Mk71, its slight weight suddenly resting on her hip, the snug embrace of her holster wrapping around her middle and tightening down around her upper thigh. She pulled it for a moment and inspected the blocky yet slender firearm, then removed the suppressor, and instead equipped the extended barrel, the hexagonal part extending a few millimeters past the end of the slide. Wracking it, she loaded a round into the chamber, then replaced it in the holster as the car's motor changed pitch, a faint squeak from the brakes as it slowed down, it's design more defined and clear now as the driver, hidden behind dark black reflective tint, brought the loud, long and low slung two door to a stop a dozen meters away.

It was… somehow refined, yet almost garish, simple and sleek, yet speaking of great power, like a raptor or maybe a large cat. It was pitch black with a metallic undertone, a wide gold stripe down the middle, the wire like wheels matching the stripe, glass cutouts in the roof would give impressive vertical visibility, but the forward view was slightly obstructed by a chromed intake that protruded from the hood, red colored vents flipped open and closed slowly as the motor barked out loudly, then went silent.

The headlights winked off, and a mechanical sound preceded the vehicles long left door swinging open. The driver stepped out, his face locked onto her, but his eyes were hidden behind gold framed, silver mirrored glasses shaped vaguely like larger teardrops laid on their side, the narrow points and meeting at the bridge of his nose.

He was big, tall, and solid framed, with shoulders as broad as any she had seen, and while he lacked the massive bulk of many of the males of his size she had seen before, there was clearly power under the worn brown leather jacket he wore, a bright sky blue shirt under that. His hair was closely cut along the sides of his head, but the top was long, a wide slicked back Mohawk of black and silver hair matched the short scruffy beard with the longer goatee that framed full and slightly pouty lips and highlighted his strong jaw and mild cleft chin. He was almost olive skinned like herself, but there was a swarthiness under it that she lacked. His long, faded denim clad legs moved him from behind the open door, as he held fingerless gloved hands out at his waist level.

She noted the large by huge revolver he had strapped to his own right thigh. It was bigger than any two of her handguns put together! The skill or strength stats needed to wield a gun like that had to be impressive, no doubt, but even on her home Server, some people carried weapons too big for them to use, simply to dissuade others from attacking them. But given his long, slow and easy gait, she knew instinctively that he could absolutely use that big iron, and if the glint in his now exposed steel blue eyes was any clue, he could use it as well as she could her own high speed pistol.

"Hi?" his voice was a disarming, rough high baritone, his eyes sharp, but somehow non-threatening, if only because he seemed more confused than aggressive.

"Hello." She replied, knowing her voice would be slightly altered by her helmet, but not caring; "Where am I, and who are you?"

He blinked once, looked her over once more, sighed and the smiled; "El Angelo Badlands, Server five, Level four, just east of Yvonna Dry Lake about a half a days drive from Old Daleras, west of Central, south of the La Andreas Mountains' and a week north of the Corpus Sea." He tucked his sun glasses into a pocket inside his jacket, before stepping closer, and extending a large gloved hand; "I'm Blaze, Azure Blaze, and you are?"

She eyed his hand for a moment, then took her helmet off, tucking it under her left arm as she shook her long raven locks out, then extended her own hand in kind; "Belladonna, Blake Belladonna."

"Let me guess," he said as he firmly, but gently shook her hand twice, then withdrew; "Nexus malfunction? You're a Server eight player aren't you?" he tilted his head in an almost wolfish fashion, his steely blue eyes flashing in amusement, as his grin became more lopsided.

"I am." She replied as she rested her free hand on her belt, just over her pistol, the unspoken warning clear, "I was meant to return from the hub to my Guild, we have an upcoming mission, and I don't want to be late, but instead of transferring to the Server eight Junction, I got spit out here."

Azure made a noise someplace between a grunt and a hum, as he looked over at the train station, then back to Blake, a nod of understanding; "Well there is a sub-junction in Central on this level, but like all subs it only connects to the other levels and the main Server five Junction." He looked over his shoulder, back the way he came, as if expecting to see something, then back to her; "I'm guessing you need to get to Central soon as you can. It would be impolite of me to refuse you a ride, if you want it of course."

Belladonna held her breath a moment, the offer only slightly unexpected, given the apparent level differences between them. Most Server eight players had almost rampant opportunities to gain XP, when compared to the other Servers, but given how composed Blaze seemed to be, she wasn't willing to bet that she could beat him in a stand up fight. Besides the fact that it was not her style to go headfirst into a fight anyways. She was a Nightstalker, by Class a hyper lethal scout, a Hunter devoted to striking at a distance, with a flurry of exacting shots or from the shadows with single devastating blow. She was by any measure, an Assassin, and not a brawler or pistol fighter, despite her proficiency with the gun at her side.

"That would be appreciated to an extent I can't fully express." She finally replied, a wary cast to her amber gaze as she noted another dust plume on the horizon behind him.

"Yeah I figured. Only issue is I have a job I'm balls deep into right now, and as you have likely just seen, there is someone following me who is keen to claim the bounty on stopping me from making my delivery." He held a hand up when she opened her mouth to object, and laughed softly; "However, you help me dust this asshole, and once my delivery is done, I'll get you to Central fast as I possibly can. I'll even toss you some credits for the work."

Of course, there was a catch to it. There always was. At least it was an equitable exchange.

"Fair enough." She replied tiredly, the heat already getting to her without the protection of her helmet.

"Alrighty, saddle up Blake, we got a long way to go, and a short time to get there." He stated as he pulled out his sunglasses and placed them onto his face, a key materializing in his hand as he turned back to the car.

Moving to the passenger side, Blake pulled the door open and climbed down into the pleasantly cooler and shaded confines, soft suede leather and dark wood grain greeted her, the two browns complimenting one another in an inoffensive but not wholly attractive style that seemed slightly dated somehow. Still, the seat was comfortable and surprisingly cool, the interior lighting darker than she would have first guessed with all of the large curved glass, even with the dark window tinting.

Both doors slammed shut solidly, and the engine barked to life, Azure's gloved hand griping the gearshift tightly as the car fairly roared, and the sounds of rubber struggling to find purchase on dust covered rotting asphalt almost filled the cabin as the vehicle lurched forward with brutal, linear thrust only interrupted by the driver firmly changing the gears himself.

Blake took note of that, as the few times on Server nine and the one time on Server seven she had seen others drive, they simply put the vehicle in gear, and let it automatically operate from there. That he shifted the gears manually spoke of a dedication and focus on the task of driving others clearly lacked. A glance at the gauges as he shifted again, told her that they were already going nearly 100 MPH already. Miles Per Hour? That was… over 160 Kph, which was almost as fast as her MOUnT at full boost. A glance out of the window confirmed their speed as a cactus flashed by in blur of green.

Looking more closely at the door mounted mirror, she saw a pair of red sedans take clear shape in the reflection, a black shimmering blur of movement seeming to rise out of the column of dust they kicked up, a flying machine, shaped vaguely like a dragonfly climbing higher behind them all. 'Objects in Mirror are closer than they appear' was etched into the glass, and it sparked a knot of worry someplace in her gut as she fought the urge to turn and look over the back of her seat.

The mirror shattered suddenly, the snap-crack of a bullet obliterating itself against the fixture showered the heavy tinted glass in glimmering debris, and ripped a soft curse from Azure's lips as he shifted gears once more.

"This is the closest they've gotten to me so far." He offered as he followed a gentle curve in the road, the car shifting slightly on its springs, as they went over a bump in the pavement.

Blake glanced over at him, then gave into the impulse to look out of the back window. Her eyes widened as figures started to lean out of the passenger windows of the pair of four-door cars, and opened up let loose a hail of gunfire at them, causing her to duck down and fumble her own pistol out from the holster, the confines of the car slowing her down.

The sound of rounds striking the car was like something between rain on a metal roof, and pebbles striking tempered glass, yet the windows held up under the onslaught.

"I just got her repainted damnit!" Azure growled as he coaxed the car onward, drawing just a bit more speed from it, the engine howling in reply.

It seemed to be working as the two red sedans stopped closing the gap, and started to fall behind, slowly, but surely, even as the passengers kept up their attack.

Belladonna blinked in confusion, knowing that they were at the extreme range for auto rifles and their famously weak accuracy; she could not fathom why they would waste ammunition like this.

"Why are they just firing away like that?" she asked after another few rounds pinged off the reinforced bodywork harmlessly.

"Because they're stupid? Because they've been chasing me for two whole days and only seen me once before?" three more rounds smashed into the rear window, spreading tiny cracks across the outer layer; "Because there's a quarter million bucks up for grabs if they can get the package I have away from me?"

A frantic beeping sound drew Blake's attention away from the rear window and to the dashboard, a pair of red lights flashing in time with the audible alarm. She knew instantly what that beeping sound meant without being told. "Missiles?! Why do they have missiles?" she exclaimed, suddenly regretting the offer of a ride from the middle of nowhere to the targeting cone of a homing missile.

"They don't!" Azure said sharply, even as he reached up and pulled two levers on the ceiling down and pushed them back, dropping the glass coverings from the roof, down over their heads and sliding them back into the space behind the rear seat.

"But that helicopter does!" Belladonna narrowed her eyes and looked at Blaze in abject fury, even as she felt him drag something out from behind her seat and shove it's surprising weight into her lap; "Ever use a Tommy Gun?" he asked as he dug out a bright orange flare gun from the center console, stuck it out of open top, and fire a flare into the air as the beeping became a constant cry of impending death…

A/N: Okay so this is an old idea of mine, that climbed back out of the back of my mind again, and would not stay dead and gone, so I just started banging out whatever came to mind.

This would be listed under crossovers if I could pick more than just 2 things to list, as there are a number of ideas and properties I have in play that I am drawing inspiration from.

at a later point I may very well list them out, but for now, I shall leave you lot in the dark, unless you figure it out via the smattering of clues in the story proper.