The Requiem of Remnant

by The Black Mage of Phantasm

He was not aware of how he got to this new world. He could not see a way to return home. Some might say he had nothing...but they would be wrong. He had his wits, his skills, and most of all, his ambitions. And even in a new world, there was still an underworld of crime he could rise to the top of. A golden wind is about to sweep through Remnant.

6. Highway to Hell

Chapter 5: Highway to Hell

Holy...shit.

His head was ringing. There was some kind of burning smell in his nose, and he suddenly felt like vomiting. Every one of his limbs felt numb, refusing to move even an inch; his eyelids were so heavy that he couldn't open them in the slightest.

Just...shit. He had been hit with flashbangs before, but he had never been hit by a hundred of them in about ten seconds. It took a special kind of jackass to use flashbangs on Faunus in complete darkness; Aura could protect him from many things, but intense sound and lights weren't among them. It was the first time he ever hated the fact that he had night vision.

He felt his shins scrapping along the ground, but even with how hard it was to even think, he still had enough awareness to properly focus his Aura to avoid any cuts.

God damn it, when he got out of here—wherever here was, because he kinda forgot what he was doing after flashing number twenty erupted right in his face—he would invest in the best pair of earplugs possible. And noseplugs. Because the smell hitting him was just—.

Wait.

He...he couldn't move his own body. So, why were his shins scrapping against the ground?

He groaned, trying his best to get his eyes open. When he really focused, he felt something grabbing, what he thought, were his arms. And considering how he felt gravel scratching against his legs every other second, he was pretty sure that someone was dragging him. But, who would—?

"—Un?"

Through the noise filling his head, he heard a really familiar voice. A voice that belonged to someone who he had come with to see a...rally? Yeah, a rally.

Slowly, he finally managed to get his eyes to open. His vision was blurry, but he could make out some kind of shape hovering above him.

What exactly was the rally about? It had something to do with...an asshole? No, wait, an asshole had been a speaker at the rally for...

The White Fang.

"Sun!?"

The voice got louder as the ringing faded. And he could now hear the worry in the voice's words as the grip on his arms got tighter.

He was at a rally for the White Fang to try and figure out what they were planning. And he had gone along with...

The blurriness was all but gone now as the shape above him got clearer. He could now see an absolutely gorgeous face and bright amber eyes looking down at him.

...a friend.

He suddenly remembered everything, from Torchwick spotting them to the man with hair even more golden than his own standing by the exit, and his eyes went wide. He instantly got out of Blake's grasp and jumped up. But the moment he landed on his feet, he stumbled backward, hitting a wall behind him.

"Bl-Blake what's going—?!"

He didn't finish as pain erupted in his head again, and he let out a loud groan, bringing one hand up to rub his left temple.

"Sun, wait!"

Blake was in front of him in an instant, her eyes looking him over.

"You...are you...feeling alright?"

Blake was speaking rather slowly; like she was having trouble getting the words out. And it was only now that he noticed that her eyes were a bit red; and how there was a bit of sweat rolling down her face.

Oh, right. Blake had been hit by the flashbangs as well. She must've been just as disoriented as he was right now.

"Ye-yeah. I'm good, Blake."

He shook his head, trying to get rid of that static-like noise still lingering in his ears.

"Dizzy, but...but I can still move."

He quickly looked around. He was no longer in the room full of White Fang members and possible recruits, but instead, in one of the many wide corridors that made up the warehouse. When he looked to his right, he saw the door that led to the room they had just been in was barricaded; it looked like someone had detonated the ceiling just above the door, several pounds of debris now stacked right in front of it.

"What...what happened?"

"I dragged you out here after Gold—after that man pissed off Torchwick."

Oh, was that why he could hear someone screaming? Also, did Blake just curse?

He watched as Blake shook her head, rubbing a hand on her forehead as she looked towards the barricaded door.

"They...they shouldn't be able to get out of their anytime soon. But..."

Slowly, Blake turned her head towards the end of the corridor, eyes narrowing.

"We have to go after him."

He blinked.

"Wait, why?"

Blake turned back to face him.

"Because he just stole a Paladin from the White Fang."

Wait, what?

"When—how could someone—?"

"I don't know how he did it, but the Paladin just...vanished when the lights came back on."

He was starting to remember now. While he had been on the floor after the volley of flashbangs, his dazed eyes had seen that the giant robot had somehow left the stage it was just on.

"You think that guy did it?"

"Who else could it be?"

"Good point."

He let out another groan, and Blake's eyes narrowed.

"Whoever that man is, he now has his hands on advanced Atlas tech. So we have to—."

Blake didn't finish as she suddenly let out a groan, stumbling a bit. Her cat-ears twitched as she gripped the side of her head with one hand.

"W-we have to get it back."

His lips moved into a concerned frown.

"Blake? You good?"

"Fi-fine."

"You sure—?"

"We're wasting time!"

At the exact moment Blake finished shouting, a loud boom suddenly echoed throughout the corridor; turning his head, he saw that the barricade of debris was shaking slightly.

"We have to find out who was willing to steal from the White Fang before he gets out!"

Not even a second later, Blake was running, Gambol Shroud in its gun form as she gripped it tightly with her right hand. And with a quick shake of his head, he followed her, only a few steps behind. He reached for his back with one hand, lifted his shirt, and grabbed the collapsed forms of his weapons. With several quick, precise flicks of his wrist, Ryui Bang and Jingu Bang shifted into their nunchuck-shotgun forms, one pair flying over his head and landing in his awaiting right hand.

Now armed with his trusted weapons in his hands, he turned left with Blake once they reached the end of the hall and entered a new corridor. And...there wasn't anyone here.

He blinked. Because that...shouldn't be right. The last time he and Blake came down this hall, there had been two guards stationed at the junction, so where—?

As he ran, his foot hit something wet, and he slipped slightly. His stride now thrown off, he stumbled, but thankfully, he was quickly able to balance himself out without faceplanting. He whirled his head behind him to see what he just stepped on.

Even though the hallways were so dark, with his night vision, he could easily see the thick puddle of blood on the floor. And as his eyes followed the thick red liquid to its source, he saw a White Fang grunt.

A grunt with a large hole where his mouth should be.

That got him to stop dead in his tracks. A few feet ahead of him, he saw Blake doing the same, eyes widening.

It wasn't the first time he saw a dead body—you didn't grow up in Vacuo without seeing a corpse every now and then. But it had been a long time since he had seen a corpse disfigured like this. Because when he said this guy had a hole in his mouth, he might have been underselling just how damaged the lower part of face was; it was like someone shoved the biggest Fire-Dust grenade they had and detonated it right in the poor guy's teeth. Blood was just oozing from what was left of his mouth by the gallon. And with half of the man's Grimm mask destroyed, he could see the wide, bulging right eye that leaked a single tear of blood down his face.

This guy had been just...mutilated.

"He-help..."

A weak, incredibly raspy voice suddenly broke the silence in the corridor. He whirled around, just as Blake did, and saw that at the end of the hallway, crawling out from behind some kind of crate, was another White Fang grunt with long brown hair. And as she crawled, he saw that one of her arms had been completely cut off at the elbow.

She also had a knife lodged deeply into her neck; he honestly didn't even know how she was talking right now.

"Mo-mon..."

Even though the girl's voice was so weak, he could still hear the terror strangling her every word. Her eyes were wide and radiated with so much fear he could almost feel it as the girl let out a bloody cough.

"Monster."

The moment she rasped out that one word, her head fell and hit the ground.

She didn't get back up.

He stared at the growing puddle of blood that surrounded the now dead White Fang girl. And the silence now seemed a lot colder than it had been a second ago.

Okay...whoever this guy was, he was not holding back. At all.

He swallowed slightly. He had never seen someone look so scared once in his life. And a person had caused that fear—not a Grimm, just a single man. In an instant, whoever this guy was had suddenly gone from "jackass who blinded him" to "deadly."

Just who the hell were they-?

"Sun."

Blake's voice sounded far harsher than he had ever heard from her before. Slowly, he turned around.

And he saw the barely restrained rage within her expression. Her lips were in a deep, tight frown as she glared at the corpses in the hall.

"Lets. Go."

He saw Blake's features scrunch up with even more anger. Seeing these people die, even if they were her enemies and wanted her dead, was enraging for her. Blake wanted to stop the White Fang from hurting people, but that didn't mean she was okay with seeing them mutilated and left bleeding out; wasn't like he was fine with seeing someone suffer like this either. It was probably taking everything Blake had to hold back her rage.

He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. The only thing he could think to do was look Blake right in her furious amber eyes. And after a moment, he simply nodded; it was the best response he could come up with.

Not wasting another second, Blake ran even faster than before, and he quickly followed. But as they ran, he heard something.

It sounded like someone screaming—and this time, he didn't think it was Roman.

Blake got even faster as they turned into a new hallway. But when they did, his eyes widened at what he saw.

There were even more bodies here. One had a katana lodged right into his chest, another had a large gash running down the center of her face, one man was missing his fingers and there was one whose entire face was reduced to nothing but bloody mush.

God damn...this was just...brutal.

He heard a soft hiss coming from Blake; he turned and saw Blake now sprinting through the corridor. And she only moved faster with every hall they entered.

Because each and every time they ran through a new corridor, there would be bodies—so many bodies. The halls he saw were stained red with blood, and the corpses scattered everywhere had so many gashes or holes or missing limbs that each body started to look even more butchered than the last.

He felt a bit of vomit rushing up his throat, but he quickly swallowed it down. But when he did, he suddenly heard what sounded like bullets firing every second. And screams even louder than the last ones.

And amidst the terrified shouts echoing through the warehouse, he heard another hiss from Blake; this one fare harsher and full of anger.

They continued to run. If his memory was right, they were just one left turn away from getting to the last hallway that would lead them to the exit. And not even ten steps later, both of them entering one last corridor full of bodies and blood, he saw the large metal doors that led outside.

But as they ran, he heard screams coming from just outside.

"No, please-!"

The voice never finished whatever they were going to shout as some kind of cracking sound reached his ears.

They were twenty feet away from the door.

"Wait, don't-!"

Another voice, this one deep and masculine, suddenly shouted before just as quickly cutting himself off as another loud crack echoed.

Ten feet.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

When they finally reached the door, a female voice was screaming her head off. Without any hesitation, Blake kicked the door open, almost knocking it off its hinges, and jumped through it, Gambol Shroud pointed ahead. He was only a few steps behind her, jumping through the air and landing on the pavement outside.

And when he lifted his head up, he saw the blond guy standing just a few feet away from a White Fang girl with short white hair. The blond guy who was already throwing a punch as the girl let out another terrified scream.

"NO-!"

The blonde guy who effortlessly punched through the girl's chest like it was made of wet tissue paper and come out the other side of her armor. Blood exploded into the air from the gaping hole the man had just made, and the white-haired girl let out a bloody cough.

And then, the man pulled his fist out of the girl's chest, and she fell face-first onto the ground with a dull thud. All while the man watched her fall with his deep-blue eyes.

His eye widened at what he saw. It wasn't just the fact that what the man did was easily the most brutal thing he had ever seen. It wasn't because of the man's strength that he couldn't help but stare—because he knew plenty of people who could probably do the same thing.

It was because the man's eyes had not shown an ounce of emotion. There was no joy, no anger, no anything. They were just empty.

Blood dripped down the man's white-gloved fist and onto the pavement—none of it his own; and, now that he thought about it, that was somehow the only blood the man had on him.

He had never seen anyone look so...cold in his entire life. And he never thought anyone could be so emotionless when they were literally ending another person's life.

It was disturbing.

The man slowly looked away from the corpse and towards them, blue eyes narrowing.

He tensed.

And Blake let out a furious yell and fired Gambol Shroud without a moment's hesitation. Bullet after bullet rocketed through the air and headed right towards the man, and he knew each one would hit their mark. But as the bullets rapidly approached him, the man reached into his right pocket and pulled something out before slamming it to the ground. And the moment whatever he threw hit the pavement, there was a short ping sound as thick smoke burst out and completely covered the man from sight.

And when the bullets went through the smoke, he heard another sound coming from within it. It was like metal on metal scraping against each other, but somewhat less grating. He saw that from within the smoke the bullets jettisoning in every direction—he even had to duck his head to the right to avoid getting hit by one—and he realized that the man had deflected them. Somehow.

But he didn't have time to figure out how, because in the next second, something came flying out of the cloud of smoke and right towards them. And once he recognized what was coming, his eyes went wide before he closed them shut and hit the floor, Blake quickly doing the same.

He heard the flashbang collide with the door to the warehouse; and then he heard an, unfortunately, familiar bang exploding behind him. But this time, the burning white light wasn't as painful, and the noise wasn't nearly as deafening.

Which meant he could actually fight back this time.

Opening his eyes as fast as he could, he jumped from the ground and spun in the air; with a few quick flicks from both of his wrists, his nunchucks swung rapidly in precise wide arcs before he fired them right as they were swinging parallel to the other—bright yellow bursting from within the barrels of his guns. His vision was still blurry, but he could just make out that jackass' blonde hair from within the smoke, which was quickly fading away. His shotgun rounds would lack the oomph they would've had if he were closer, but they would still pack a punch.

If they had landed. Because the moment he fired, he saw the man jump high into the air and avoid his rounds just as they slammed into the spot the man had just been on; the pavement cracking and now full of holes.

As he landed back on the ground, shaking his head to get rid of the remaining blurriness, he watched as the man landed far away from him and on the curb of a nearby street. With Ryu Band and Jingu Bang clenched tightly in his fist, he quickly shot a glance at where Blake was and saw her getting up, weapons at the ready. But he did not miss the way her legs shook or the somewhat painful groan she let out.

That couldn't be good.

Before he could ask if Blake was alright, he heard an engine roaring. And from behind one of the buildings, a four-door car—black, slim, and with the windows completely tinted out—zoomed along the road before the wheels screeched as it came to a swift stop just a few feet behind the man.

"I will only say this once."

The man's voice was deep, but also, somewhat soft; somehow, he sounded confident yet at the same time reserved. But the man's words weren't what he was focusing on. Instead, he only stared into the man's blue eyes.

Eyes that were promising him pain should he not listen to the man.

"Do not follow me."

And with that simple command—because there was no other way to describe the way he spoke those words—the man pulled his closed-fist back before swinging it forward, throwing multiple things out of his hands that headed right for him and Blake. Things that kind of looked like—.

Oh, shit.

His eyes went wide. And he ran to the right before jumping over a dumpster and landed on the other side, taking cover as his back pressed against cold metal.

And a moment later, there were multiple explosions. Followed by intense heat burning the air around him.

How the hell did a man fit Fire-Dust grenades that big into his hand?!

Once he felt the heat die down, he quickly jumped from the ground and landed on top of the dumpster, already swinging his nunchucks and just about to fire.

But by the time he landed, the man was gone; the front of the warehouse had been charred black and the sound of wheels burning rubber echoed throughout the block. And then he realized that he didn't see Blake anywhere, who had been closer to the blast.

"Blake!? Blake!?"

"Over here!"

His shouts were quickly meant with a response from Blake. Whirling around, he saw Blake slowly rising from behind a set of trash cans near the warehouse's opposite end; he knew she was fast, but she must've been moving like a bullet to get so far away. He watched as Blake shook her head before she started to run towards the curb. He jumped off the dumpster and followed her—careful not to hit any of the corpses of the White Fang.

Once they were on the curb, they looked down the road where the man had gone. He saw there were more White Fang bodies near one of the intersections; they looked like they had been crushed by something going fast and not even stopping for a moment, bones jutting out from the skins and limbs bent at unnatural angles. He once again swallowed some vomit. Later, when things weren't so crazy, he would go to the nearest toilet and let loose everything he had eaten over the last two days. Because holy shit, this was just—.

"Sun."

He was immensely thankful that Blake spoke up. Because he now could focus on something else. Turning, he saw Blake staring at the corpse of the White Fang with narrowed eyes.

And when she spoke again, rage burned throughout her voice.

"We need to call the others."

---

Why her, why her, why her, why her!?

For the first time in, ever, honestly, Charlotte Sapphire regretted being a criminal. With her foot firmly pressed against the accelerator of her car, she turned down another intersection at sixty miles an hour.

She never thought it would be possible; she never thought there would ever be a day where she would honestly regret breaking the law every chance she got. But, here it was. And by God, it was fucking terrifying.

Up ahead, she saw there were a set of cars acting as a pseudo-barricade that looked just like her own car, save for the blood. And there were men and women standing near those cars on the street with clothes just like her own except for, once again, the blood on her's.

"Do not slow down."

The voice of her "passenger" from the backseat of her car was enough to make her fucking shiver uncontrollably; she had never heard anyone's voice, from her boss or even his boss, make every word they said colder than a glacier in Atlas. She didn't stop shivering, but she did give her "passenger" a very shaky, very fearful nod. And in her rearview mirror, she could see his damn heartless eyes staring right into her soul.

Eyes that suddenly narrowed.

"Speed up."

She let out a strangled cry. And then, she slammed her foot as hard as she could on the accelerator and the engine screamed into the night. Her car was all but teleporting down the long stretch of concrete, and as she got closer to the blockade, she repeatedly bashed her hand against the horn. Everyone by the parked cars heard her frantic honking, turned, and then, she assumed, shat themselves.

Some of them had gotten out of the way by the time her front bumper plowed through the barricade of cars like they were made of wood and not metal. But some hadn't been so lucky. She saw one man's foot get crushed to broken bones, another got clipped by one of the suddenly moving and out-of-control cars and sent him crashing into a mailbox.

And then there was the third one. A girl with long curly hair. A girl that had just stood perfectly still, frozen like a damn statue, as her car sped towards her.

A girl that had been hit full force by a car going over a hundred miles an hour. She saw the look of pure agony on the girl's face, saw the blood erupting from within her black suit, and then all she could hear was the most painful shriek she ever heard in her life and the girl went fucking flying over the roof of her car and out of sight.

The only thing left of the girl was a blood stain near the edge of her windshield and a pair of broken red-sunglasses caught in the center of her wipers.

Oh, hey, those looked just her's; right down to the cracks on them.

It was actually kinda funny. He. Hehehe.

Ha.

A crazed smile broke out across her face.

Oh good God, she was so fucking dead. As dead as that bitch she just killed and all the other poor fucks that she had literally run over ever since that bastard had forced her to be his personal chauffeur. And once she was done, the bastard was going to kill her. She should've never become a criminal. She should've just been a hooker like her mother—she had the tits for it. She should've never stolen that old fucker's car and gone on a joy ride; that way she would've learned about the thrill of police chasing her down. She should've never run away and practiced her driving skills until she became one of the best getaway drivers in Vale; that way Roman Torchwick never would've offered her a spot in his crew. That way she never would've seen this heartless jackass sitting in her backseat literally rip out her bastard of an ex-boyfriend's heart with some kind of fucking monster, and then command her to drive her to a rally she knew Torchiwck had kept under wraps, but that this jackass somehow knew about—.

"We are about to crash."

What?

Behind her glasses, she blinked, processing those calm words. And then she realized there was a pretty big building that seemed to be moving right towards her and—.

Her eyes widened. With a terrified scream, she whirled the wheel to the left and hit the breaks. Though, not literally; because then that would just lock up her front tires way to quickly and all but guarantee her car going through solid-brick. Instead, she steadily increased the pressure on her breaks as all of her cars weight transferred to the front; she then gently eased off her break once she saw she was moving in the direction she wanted, and slammed her foot onto the accelerator.

Momentum did its job, thank fucking God, and her car turned just in time to avoid speeding through the wall of some shitty apartment complex. Well, mostly. Because as her wheels screeched on top of the asphalt, the trunk got a bit to close the building and skidded along the wall—sparks flying through the air as the metal of her car shrieked from the impact.

But she had avoided crashing through a building. Her car continued to accelerate down the street before she turned at an intersection and entered a wide, open freeway with a long row of concrete barriers splitting the road down the middle. With several quick twists of her wheel and another burst of speed, her car sped into the leftmost lane, cutting off several cars that were forced to slow down slightly as they honked at her.

She relaxed back into her soft chair. Her car was going over sixty miles an hour, but with little traffic ahead of her, she wasn't in any danger so—.

"Excuse me."

Oh good fucking God, nevermind.

With her hands now trembling as they gripped the wheel, she glanced at the mirror. Her "passenger"—why the fuck he even bothered calling himself that, she didn't know—was glaring at her with those damn cold, empty blue eyes of his.

"What was that?"

There was no anger in his voice. No emotion whatsoever in any words he spoke.

And that only made her trembling worse.

"You were about to send us crashing through that building, were you not?"

The man leaned froward—well, as much as he could, anyway, since he was wearing a seatbelt. But that simple action, the less than an inch of space he moved to get closer to her, was enough to make her shriek.

"Tell me, was that an accident, or were you just trying to kill us both?"

She suddenly felt like death was only a hairs-width away from stealing her soul.

"O-of cou-course not, s-sir!"

She was stuttering. She didn't bother trying to hide any of the terror in her voice; not when she was doing her best to not piss herself from just looking at her "passenger" in the rearview mirror.

"Then tell me: how exactly did you miss a building that even an elderly grandma with a retinal disease could see?"

Okay, that insult was just excessive—and harsh. But she wasn't stupid enough to say that out loud; not that she could, considering it was taking everything she had to breathe through the fear choking her throat.

"I-I ju-just...missed it."

Oh God, why the fuck would she say that?! Like hell this guy was just gonna except that pathetic excuse!

As she continued to speed down the freeway, she saw a sign from the corner of her eye saying that the exit to the highway was coming up. And even though fear consumed every inch of her body, she somehow remembered that her "passenger" had ordered her to get to the highway as quickly as possible. But before she could slide into the right lane, the terrifying man sitting in the center seat of her car spoke up.

"Did I make a mistake?"

She saw her "passenger" raising an eyebrow at her. And that was enough for a bit of confusion to rise within her; right in the middle of all her fear.

"Wha-wha—?"

"Do not make me repeat myself."

The man's voice instantly turned deadly, and she clamped her mouth shut.

"You heard what I said."

Her "passenger" narrowed his eyes.

"I thought that my driver was one Charlotte Sapphire, the self-proclaimed 'best damn getaway driver that carrot-top bastard has ever had.'"

How the hell did he know that?

"But are you telling me you aren't her?"

Somehow, she got her mouth working again as she spoke.

"I-I—that's me, si-sir, but—."

"Are you not the same woman who drove me to a White Fang rally and who I told to wait for me while I stole an Atlas military mech-suit from literally right in front of your boss."

"Ye-yeah, I—."

"Are you not the same woman who, without even a moment's hesitation after receiving my message on your scroll, sped to my location and is currently helping me escape from not only your boss but also the biggest terrorist organization on the planet?"

Well, she only picked him up so fast because he said there was a bomb in her car that would go off if she tried to ditch him—and she way to scared to see if he was bluffing. But, that wasn't really what she was focused on.

Because what currently had her undivided attention was that the man's voice was no longer cold, and the fact that he was speaking with pure passion lodged into his every word.

"Unless my memory has suddenly corroded, I believe that the woman I am currently staring at is still the same skilled driver that has been doing an excellent job of aiding my escape."

She blinked. She never heard anyone speak so...sincerely to her before. And, even if those words and emotions were coming from a guy who literally killed a man in front of her, it felt kinda...nice.

"So far, my amazing driver has shown excellent reflexes under pressure and intense focus that I have honestly never seen from just a mere 'lackey,' as Roman Torchwick would refer to you as."

Yeah well, her boss was kind of an asshole like that. But—wait, did he just say she was amazing?

"When I decided you would assist me, I thought I saw a woman who had the determination, the resolve, to get the job done no matter how difficult. Someone that would get the job done. And once this job is completed, Charlotte Sapphire, you will never have to worry about me again."

Calm blue eyes were staring right at her. But she didn't see how the hell that was true considering the fact that-.

"Once you drop me off, you can just pretend these events never happened and proceed with your life."

There was something in his voice that made her pause. An emotion that she honestly had a hard time placing. There was some kind of warmth coming from her "passenger's" voice, and it almost sounded like—like he didn't want to hurt her; even though he had literally threatened her to drive him and basically betray her boss. And if wasn't for the fact that she was sure he would kill her when this was all over, then she might've actually—.

"Remember, I am just your passenger."

What?

She blinked again, and there was no way the man couldn't see the confusion on her face.

"I am not your new boss or your murderer: I am just a passenger trying to get from one point to the next."

The man eyes...actually softened a bit; from this distance, it was hard not to notice.

"I will not harm you so long as you do as I say."

That sounded almost too good to be true. But, there was something in his voice, something in the way he spoke that made her almost believe him.

"So, let me ask you this, Charlotte Sapphire."

The look on his face was gone now, and his features hardened as he spoke.

"Are you not the best driver in Vale? Are you not the one who successfully aided your comrades in over a hundred different heists in the last year alone?

She couldn't look away from her "passenger's" calm blue eyes. Eyes that somehow made her feel safe.

"Are you not the one who will get me out of here alive?"

Beneath the sharpness of her "passengers" voice, there was a kind of...rough kindness within it, she couldn't explain what she heard in any other way, that made her feel something other than fear. The severity in his voice was impossible to miss, but she found it also sounded a bit comforting—somehow.

Her arms started to tremble less. With a glance, she saw that the exit to the highway was coming up.

She looked back at her passenger. She tried to see if he was lying, but, it honestly looked like he was being genuine.

She looked at the road ahead.

Shook her head—blue ponytail whipping left and right as she let out a long breath.

And then, she whirled the steering wheel to the right.

"Yes—!"

Her car dashed to the furthermost right lane, almost hitting several cars in the process as they honked as loudly as they could; but she ignored them. Once she entered the entrance ramp lane, she slammed on the accelerator, and her car moved along with the steep curve at high speeds.

"—I am!"

Her wheels were roaring as they ascended up the ramp. Without slowing down in the slightest, her car reached the top of the ramp, sped down the lane, and then she accelerated into the mess of traffic just to the left of her—she was now surrounded by the concrete walls and electric blue barricades on either side of the highway. Loud honks burst from every car she cut off, but she could care less as she settled into the centermost lane before letting her car soar across the concrete.

Going well over one hundred miles an hour, she glanced at the rearview mirror.

And her passenger was giving her a small grin.

"I thought so."

Her lips moved into a somewhat shaky smile in response before her eyes returned to the road.

She could do this. Her passenger was right, it was just a job. It was no different than that time she had to drive a car full of injured idiots she worked with back to their safehouse while a bunch of leather-fetish motorcycle assholes shot at her. Except this time was slightly better, since she wasn't bleeding all over the wheel, but slightly worse because her passenger might order her to run over even more people she worked with.

But if she could just get this guy to wherever the hell he wanted to go—he hadn't really told her much besides "get to the highway and lose anyone following us"— and make sure no one saw her face, then all that was left was for her to ditch her car and pretend that none of this shit ever happened.

The man had been serious when he said he would let her go, so all she had to do was just drop him off, and then, she would live.

She let out another breath. She focused only on the vibrations her car made as it sped down the highway. The way every car around her seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. The sounds of her reinforced tires burning rubber so loudly it was like having dear-old Daddy yelling at her again.

Driving, no matter the circumstance, was always thrilling to her. So, she focused on the excitement and joy she got from speeding down the highway instead of the slowly creeping fear in her heart.

Drop him off, you live. Drop him off, you live. Drop him off—.

She saw something in her side-view mirror. Something that was moving fast between the cars so far behind her. And once she got a better view of the fast-moving something, her eyes widen as she just barely made out very familiar long blonde-hair that belonged to a girl she had seen before in a photo her boss had shown her and a bunch of other "lackeys." A girl her boss had warned her was, in his words, "way above your paygrade."

"Oh shit. A Huntress."

The moment she finished speaking, her passenger's eyes hardened.

---

She couldn't remember the last time she pushed her bike so hard before. Weaving through car after car while going three times over the speed-limit was pretty fun, honestly. Would've been even more fun if she wasn't busy trying to catch some thief who, surprisingly, wasn't Roman Torchwick.

With her hands tightly grasping the handlebars of Bumblebee, Yang Xiao Long raced down the highway; she and her passenger looked like blurs of yellow and black as her bike steadily got faster.

She had a feeling things would get crazy—lately, things always got crazy one way or another. Granted, chasing someone who stole from, what sounded like, hundreds of White Fang goons and Roman Torchwick himself, she'd give anything to see the look on that prick's face right now, wasn't nearly as crazy as some of the messes she'd gotten into since her little sis got to Beacon.

But driving down a highway full of cars while trying to get to a guy who apparently slaughtered—Blake's words, not her's—a bunch of goons after somehow making a big-old Atlas robot disappear, she felt it was safe to say that, while maybe not the craziest thing she'd ever done, it was still dangerous.

"You good back there, Nep!?"

She had to shout for her passenger to hear her; the wind was ridiculously strong, and the only other sounds she could make out were her tires burning rubber.

"Good as I can be, Yang!"

She didn't turn around when Neptune screamed back his response. She just kept staring at the road ahead.

At the slick, black car that was barely fifty feet away from her.

She revved up the throttle, and her bike instantly accelerated, engine roaring as she went even faster. She sped in-between two cars and rocketed out the other side, the strong winds billowing her jacket.

From what Blake said over the phone, this guy wasn't messing around. Whoever this new thief was apparently didn't hesitate to end dozens of men from the White Fang. And from the slightly nauseous look on Sun's face and the edge in Blake's voice, whatever this new thief did to those goons wasn't pretty.

Behind her sunglasses, her eyes narrowed.

Whoever "Goldie" was—which was what Torchwick had called him after getting a flashbang to the face—he was someone that didn't have a problem with killing. She didn't get every detail, but she knew enough to know that this guy had tried to hurt her friends. He didn't even care that they weren't terrorist; he just threw some grenades at them and left.

She wasn't gonna let some jackass get away with trying to hurt her partner and Sun.

With wind colliding against her face at high speeds, her bike continued to swerve between the lanes of the highway. She was closing the distance, and with every spin of Bumbleebee's wheels, she got even faster. They couldn't use their weapons yet, they were way to powerful and the shockwaves from their blast might hit someone if they weren't careful. So, plan B was to get close enough to the car so Neptune could jump on it and try to get into the car and knock out the driver safely—shooting out the tires might cause the car to crash into other people, so this was the only other option they had. And she would be busy making sure that if Goldie tried to throw any grenades or anything else through the windows of his car, he would get a face full of Ember Celica's bullets before he even realized what was happening; because once she was close enough, she wouldn't have to worry about her Dust rounds hitting anyone but Goldie.

If nothing went wrong, their plan should get the job done. They would stop Goldie—and hearing that some brutal criminal with a nickname like that was kinda funny—and then, they would figure out who he was and what he did with the twenty-feet tall robot suit—.

As she got close to Goldie's car, she almost missed it; what with all the cars she had to dodge around and the intense high beams blurring her vision. But she could still see it.

She could still see the windows on the back seat of Goldie's car slowly lowering.

In an instant, she took one hand off her handlebars, cocked one of her gauntlets, and waited with narrowed eyes. With a quick glance, she saw that there were very few cars around her, and most of them were far enough away that she didn't have to worry about accidentally hitting them. She didn't know if Goldie could see her armed and ready for action, but if he did, then he better think twice before trying anything.

He would have to be the most overconfident jackass she'd ever seen if he thought he could make a move while she was—.

When the window completely lowered, something moved—a shape that was just hidden from the blue-glow of the barricades and the bright high-beams around her.

She threw her fist forward and fired. Orange and red sparks flew from her fist as her Dust rounds shot through the air and right towards the shape.

But then, something...surprising happened.

She thought the shape had just been Goldie's arm peaking over the window seat, like he was about to drop a grenade or something. But the shape hadn't been an arm.

Because for one, the dark shape she had seen was actually not a single shape, but three shapes all meshed together. Shapes that actually moved out of the way of her bullets once they saw them coming. Shapes that had wings and were flying right towards her.

And once they entered the light and out of the darkness, she could clearly make them out. And her eyes went wide.

What the—were those freakin' hawks—!?

A triple set of screeches broke through the roaring of tires on the highway, and she saw that the hawks had closed the distance between them and her almost instantly; their sharp eyes practically gleaming in the light of her headlights, wings flapping a mile a minute. She tried to cock her gauntlet to get another round in the chamber, behind her she could hear the sounds of Neptune's own weapon mecha-shifting into some other form, but the hawks flew to fast. The one at the head of the pack soared over her head, and not even a second later, she heard Neptune shouting. The hawk right behind the first one headed right towards her and, when it was only a few inches away, it swiped at her eyes with its sharp talons.

The bird might not have been able to pierce her aura, but getting a claw directly slashed into her eyeball still stung like a bitch. She let out a painful shout as her eyes reflexively clenched shut. She almost brought her hands up to try and get the damn bird off her, and it was not even close to done scratching her face yet, but she couldn't let go of Bumbleebee's handlebars. She was about to headbutt the damn thing, but then she realized she lost track of the third hawk; and the moment she had that thought, she felt something crash into her left hand.

Something that made her let go of her handlebar.

Something with enough force to completely turn her bike to one side and made her lose control.

It didn't take a genius to realize what crashed into her hand was the third hawk.

Bumblee started to spin out of control, the hawk on her face quickly flying off with a screech. She could now see herself and her bike veering to the left at high speeds. Right towards the cement walls and electric blue barricades on top of them that guarded the highway.

Her eyes widened. She was about to crash and go flying towards the blue barricades; those things might've looked transparent, but she knew damn well that crashing into something made of the same energy that Atlas used for their shield-tech was a bad idea. And since there was no way she could stop in time, she decided to take an alternate flight path.

In an instant, she jumped on top of her bike, spun around, and wrapped one arm around Neptune's waist—who had just managed to throw the bird off his face.

"Hold on!"

Despite how sudden her shout was, Neptune didn't even hesitate to act. And the moment she felt his arm wrap around her waist, she jumped of Bumblee, thrust her free-arm towards the ground, and fired shot after shot of dust round; sparks burst from her gauntlet and explosive booms rang through her ears as the force from each blast sent her hight into the air, just above the blue-static barricades.

But she had fired too many times; she never tried flying with a passenger before, so she didn't know how many shots she needed. All the force from her blasts had quickly added up, and once she sailed over the barricades, Neptune lost his grip on her, just like she did, and then she started to flip uncontrollably as her eyes widened. Because she might be able to control her fall, but Neptune—!

Not even a five seconds after she lost control of her flight, she felt something grab the back of her jacket. She heard metal shifting and an equally metallic shriek, and then her fall came to an abrupt stop. She turned her head around.

Neptune was flashing her a smile full of perfectly white teeth. His weapon was in its...sword form—okay, some type of blade-mode, but she couldn't remember what it was called—and was plunged firmly into one of the girders that made up the underside of the highway, bits of metal falling from the cracks and pelting her head.

"Gotcha."

His smile seemed to grow. She wouldn't lie, she was starting to see what Weiss liked about him.

"You know I had that handled, right?"

She gave Neptune a big smirk, not at all concerned that she was hanging hundreds of feet away from the ground.

"I know. But what kind of guy lets a lady waste her Dust?"

She knew Neptune was starting to have trouble holding her, his arms were shaking a bit, but his smile never wavered.

She chuckled.

"Just makin' sure."

Without wasting another moment, she started to swing her body back and forth. Neptune got the hint, and he let go of her once she reached the apex of one her swings. She then fired both of her gauntlets, backflipped in the air as she ascended, and—without even looking—fell back down and landed on the girder; there was just enough space that let her stand up without having to crouch.

"Need a hand?"

"Nah."

In an instant, Neptune swung around his weapon several times and then let go, flying high and just as quickly landing a few feet away from her. He then crouched down and pulled out his weapon with a strong tug.

She looked up. From their current spot, she couldn't see any part of the highway. Not that it really mattered right now, since Goldie was definitely long gone. But even if she and Neptune didn't stop him, they still had other options. Like her team's resident ice queen who should be waiting up ahead on an overpass.

With a frown, she took out her scroll, fingers already typing up the message she needed to send.

She wondered if Goldie had any hawks that liked the cold.

---

...Okay. So. That happened.

Charlotte Sapphire was doing her best not to stare at her passenger as he closed the window. The window that his birds had just left and had crashed into that Huntress.

Birds he had literally created from God damn candy-bar wrappers under his seat. She was...she was pretty sure that violated a lot of physics. Hell, she was pretty sure that making inanimate objects into damn animals was something even Semblances shouldn't be able to do—.

"I was expecting more."

Her passenger's voice was low, head still turned around and looking out the car's rear window. Like he was expecting that blonde chick to be right behind them; she desperately prayed that wouldn't happen. She was still trying to process how the hell a man could make an actual animal out of God damn garbage, and the last thing she needed was to deal with more—.

She saw something on an upcoming overpass. It was a bit hard to see, but when she squinted, she saw someone standing right on the edge. Someone who looked like she was wearing white.

A lot of white.

In her mind, she suddenly saw her boss waving around another picture at her and all her other colleagues. Someone just like the blonde chick she had just seen crash.

Her eyes went wide again. And then, she shouted.

"Oh, are you—!"

---

"—kidding me, Yang?"

Weiss Schnee finished reading the message Yang had sent her and let out an irritated sigh. Yang had the time to write puns—really, "Weiss-Cream" wasn't even that clever—yet she didn't even mention how exactly she had failed to stop..."Goldie"; really, that name sounded like one of Yang's puns. But, regardless of the man's name, Yang could've at least given her more context about what happened beyond, "watch out for birds."

Another sigh left her lips as she put her Scroll away.

If Yang didn't see a need to tell her the specifics, then they weren't important. What was important was the fact that a murderous criminal was still on the loose, still had valuable Atlas technology that they had to get back, and was heading towards her. Well, the road about a hundred feet below her, technically.

Her eyes were firmly locked on every car that passed underneath the bridge she stood on. She had yet to see the type of car "Goldie" was supposed to use, but he should be heading her way any second now. She wished her own team's leader hadn't decided to "take a break" after searching through business documents in the CTT tower and go wandering around Vale for a snack; cookies, most likely. If weren't for that, they would've been together when she received Blake's distressed call—something that was still surprising to her—and she would've had a sniper by her side, making it far easier to spot—.

She saw the car. It had just maneuvered around a pick-up truck ahead of it and was now speeding down the road; moving like a black blur as its wheels screeched so loudly she could hear it from her position on the bridge.

There was no more time for idle thoughts.

With Myrtenaster held out parallel to her chest, she focused her aura. She had to be careful; there were still other people driving on the highway, and for what she was about to do, one mistake could mean random pedestrians could get hurt.

A Glyph was starting to appear on the cement blocks she stood on.

Her timing had to be perfect. First, she had to use her repulsion Glyph to fly down to the street and then use an attraction Glyph while in mid-air to make sure she landed properly. Then she would have to slam Myrtenastrer into the ground, create an ice floor that would lead "Goldie's" car into the cement guards of the highway, quickly melt the ice so that no one else could slip on it, and then use yet another repulsion Glyph to send her away from any oncoming traffic. All while focusing her Aura into multiple sets of Dust near simultaneously.

Most would crack under that kind of pressure.

The Glyph was quickly growing, a bright white mark with a snowflake-like pattern that now encompassed her feet.

But not her. While perhaps a touch difficult, this was nothing she couldn't handle. Really, the only risk was that when "Goldie's" car crashed, the criminal might become severely injured. That is, if he didn't have Aura. And what kind of madman would steal from the White Fang and Roman Torchwick without having his Aura unlocked?

Her Glyph was releasing a faint white glow, and she channeled the proper amount of Aura into the other sets of Dust in Myrtenaster's chambers. In just a few seconds, she would move. Down at the highway, she could see the criminal's car getting closer, and the moment he got into a good enough range, she would end this—.

Even with numerous engines roaring everywhere on the bridge, she could still hear something screeching. Something that sounded very animalistic.

She blinked, lifting her head up towards the sky. There, she saw something heading towards her, flying so quickly that it was hard to make out what they were. But as they soared closer and closer, she realized they were...hawks? No, wait, falcons; the birds were too small to be hawks. And seeing how those hawks looked ready to tear something limb from limb, it was easy to tell that these were the "birds" Yang had warned her about.

She let out a scoff just as the falcons were about ten feet away from crashing into her.

Oh, please.

She pulled Myrtenaster back before thrusting it forward, impaling the first bird through the chest; she then quickly removed Myrtenaster, brought it up towards the second bird, which had been flying towards her chest, and stabbed it through its mouth—and with a simple flick of her arm, she parried the last falcon's swipe at her with its claws before she skewered it right between its eyes.

She had done all of this in one, fluid, strike. And the moment she took out Myrenstraer from the last dead falcon, blood spewed into the air from every bird's body at the same time, the falcons now falling to the ground without any signs of stopping. While she did feel a touch remorseful for ending the animals' lives—it wasn't like they knew any better—she still found it almost insulting that someone thought mere birds could defeat her in—.

She suddenly felt something slicing into her back.

And then intense pain.

She screamed. She could no longer focus on channeling her Aura to her Glyph, and it disappeared as she stumbled forward. Her right foot slipped off the edge, and she started to fall forward. But years of coordination training instantly kicked in; she pivoted on her remaining foot, threw her body as hard as she could to one side, and then she was able to save herself from falling over the bridge and instead fall right on top of the cement blocks face-first.

With a painful groan, she slowly pushed off the cement floor with one arm, the other reaching back towards her shoulder blade. And when she brought it back to her face, her eyes widened.

Because there was blood on her fingers. And now that she thought about it, she could feel something wet beginning to stain the back of her dress.

"What the—?"

---

"—hell?"

Charlotte Sapphire had honestly expected for that Schnee brat to jump from the overpass and land right on the hood of her car. But instead, she saw the same hawks from before, at least, she thought they were the same, attack the Schnee and somehow overpower her.

Her car had already passed underneath the overpass and was speeding along the highway. With a glance at her rearview mirror, she saw her passenger staring at the rapidly vanishing overpass through the backseat window.

"I'm almost disappointed."

Wait, what?

She stared at her passenger, who was still facing her backseat window.

"Then again, I suppose I should be thankful."

Slowly, her passenger turned around, resting his head on the tinted-windshield.

"After all, It would be a shame if I had to end—."

He stopped talking, eyes instantly narrowing. She followed his gaze.

She saw an entrance ramp with a steep hill on her left. And just peaking out from that hill was a large truck. A truck that had people on top of it; two of them the exact same boy and girl Faunus she had seen back at the warehouse. But there was a third person there as well.

Someone dressed in all red.

Someone whose hood was flapping in the wind.

And someone who was looking right at her car as she held a big-ass sniper rifle.

For a moment—just for the one second that her car and the truck were side-by-side—she thought her passenger was staring right at that Huntress' silver eyes with his own deep blue. But she didn't really have much time to think about that.

Because she suddenly heard a loud bang. And then the window right next to her cracked as a high-powered bullet slammed into it.

Without any hesitation, she pulled her foot back and slammed on the accelerator as hard as humanly possible.

---

"Go!"

With Ruby's shout, Blake Belladonna ran right to the edge of the truck's trailer, and then leapt off it; Sun did the same, right by her side as they flew through the air before landing on the roof of a sport's car. She felt the highspeed winds crashing into her face as she stood up, but her Aura made it so she was barely affected by the gusts; otherwise, she would've had to worry about flying off into the road.

Her eyes were locked onto the slim black car that murderer was in as it raced down the highway. Ruby was firing off bullet after bullet from Crescent Rose right at the cars hood, windshields, and every other vital spot on its body—the car wasn't as damaged as it should've been from getting high-powered sniper bullets piercing its frame, so it must've been reinforced. But that didn't matter, because Ruby was only firing at the car so that "Goldie"—she really hated using that name—couldn't fight back without risking getting himself shot at; and since there were no other vehicles near his car, Ruby didn't have to worry about hurting any civilians.

She quickly glanced at Sun. He caught her gaze, and they both nodded before they sprinted towards the hood of the sports car and jumped off it at the same time. They soared through the air before landing on the back of a pick-up truck, the driver whirling around to face them, but they were already jumping over the roof and onto the speeding van a few feet to the right.

She was not going to let him get away. Not when he stole from the White Fang who knows what reasons. Not when he slaughtered Faunus left and right while escaping.

"Goldie's" car was starting to weave around the lanes, accelerating and decelerating at random intervals every other second in an attempt to throw Ruby off her aim; it only somewhat worked.

It wasn't because the White Fang had been killed that made her so angry. It was because "Goldie" had been beyond merciless to the Faunus that he "fought." It was easy to see just how outmatched every man and woman he encountered was by the wounds on their bodies. By their severed limbs and horrified expression.

And then she saw him kill another Faunus when she was begging for her life, when it was clear that she was too terrified to fight back, by punching a hole through her chest without even blinking. It was at the moment that she realized exactly what kind of man she was dealing with.

A butcher.

She jumped over another pickup truck, and while in the air, she saw Goldie's car getting close as it continued to try and doge Ruby's bullets.

Whoever "Goldie" was, he was someone who didn't care about the lives he took. A murderer that would kill any person he wanted in the most ruthless way possible, and then, after moving on like the life he took hadn't mattered in the slightest, he would go onto his next victim. She had seen this type of person before—sometimes from the White Fang and sometimes from Atlas military—and almost every time, the person who was committing the murders could kill so easily because of a deep-seated hatred for an opposite race.

And considering how he was willing to use flashbangs on misguided Faunus the White Fang tried to recruit, flashbangs that could very easily damage a person, without any hesitation...

She jumped again, eyes narrowed as she was now roughly fifteen feet away from "Goldie"—every other car on the highway, including the one she was standing on, had realized that someone was actively shooting and had started to slow down dramatically.

...she wouldn't be surprised if the same applied to him.

"Sun, get ready!"

She didn't turn when she shouted over the intense winds, but she didn't have to know that Sun was still right by her side. Without another word, she took Gambol Shroud out of her holster, her weapon shifting into its gun form, and then both she and Sun leapt into the air; right towards "Goldie's" car. Ruby was still firing at the car, which was now dodging almost every bullet with quick swerves and weaves at incredibly fast speeds. But even with its hectic movements, she and Sun had a way to get on that car without any—.

The car suddenly stopped moving. Without any warnings, the wheels stopped turning, a loud screech now roaring throughout her ears.

And then, the car's tires came to life again, and in one swift motion, the car turned around in the middle of the highway before accelerating in the opposite direction. Right towards the oncoming cars without showing any signs of slowing down.

---

Charlotte Sapphire was absolutely crazy to try this. But as she had been getting shot every other second from that girl-in-red and saw the goth chick and the blonde guy coming for her, she knew she needed to do something to lose them quickly. And since nothing she had tried was working, her brain had come up with a brilliant plan.

Drive in the opposite direction.

So, following her sane, absolutely rational brain, she had turned her car around in a perfect circle, and then proceeded to race towards a bunch of unexpected, panicking, drivers. All while she tried her best not to scream as gripped the steering wheel so tightly her leather gloves bit into her fingers.

But, despite how crazy this idea was, it was still her best option.

She swerved around a black motorcycle just as it was inches away from hitting her headlights.

Because now that she and her passenger were surrounded by other cars again, if that sniper-bitch tried to shoot them, she would also hit some random asshole's car as well; and in her experience, Huntress didn't really like leaving a civilian body count.

She was suddenly face-to-face with a van—she swore she could see the whites of the driver's eyes—and she whirled the wheel all the way to the left, slammed the accelerator, and just dodged it as she entered a new lane.

It also meant that those two assholes from before were now eating pavement and getting run over; but, they were Huntsmen, they would be fine...probably.

She was about to slam into a sports car. A quick twist, push on the brakes followed by hitting her accelerator allowed her to spin around it. With another twist she dodged a pick-up truck. And then she whirled the wheel all the way to the right to dodge another van, and then move it to the left to dodge a damn trailer. It was taking every trick and skill she learned to weave through car after car, but she was doing it. So far, it looked like her crazy plan was actually going to—.

Even with all the cars honking, the tires screeching, and the breaks howling on the highway, she could still hear the loud thump that came from the outside of her car.

---

It was because of Sun's quick reflexes that he had used his Semblance almost instantly. It was because his clones had thrown her into the air as hard as they could that she was able to catch up with "Goldie's" car so quickly.

And as Blake Belladonna leapt from the roof a large SUV onto murder's car—even as it swerved through the lanes and other cars like a black blur—she thanked Sun for the chance he had given her; she also shot a glance back to make sure he was okay, and she saw that he was running from car roof after car roof to try and catch up with her.

The moment after she landed on "Goldie's" car, it swerved heavily to the right. She brought down Gambol Shroud's blade, which was now in its katana form, and it pierced the metal of the car's trunk; not as deeply as she would've like, but just enough to prevent her from going flying as she held onto her weapon's handle with both hands. The car then swerved again, this time going to the right before just as quickly turning to the left, and while the sudden force did cause the lower half of her body to go over the side, Gambol Shroud was unwavering, still firmly lodged into the metal.

She was only a few feet away.

With a swing of her legs, she was back on the trunk.

Just a few more feet, and she could end this.

The car veered around a speeding sports car that almost hit them. Her hands almost slipped off Gambol Shroud's handle, but she managed to grab it just in time.

She could take down this murderer, and then rest.

Shakily, she managed to stand up on top of the trunk as she slowly pulled Gambol Shroud out of the car.

And then she could finally deal with that Gods damned headache that had been getting so bad that she couldn't ignore it any longer no matter what she tried—!

She lifted her head.

And right on the center of the roof, "Goldie" stood tall, cold blue eyes glaring down at her. He was only a few feet away, hands in his pockets and lips in a firm line.

She glared back. The car was no longer swerving every other second, but now accelerating in a straight line since there weren't any other vehicles heading towards it. She heard the intense winds whipping through her hair, felt it prickle her Aura covered skin, but she ignored it just like she did for everything else around her.

She only focused on the butcher in front of her as he took his gloved hands out of his pockets. And she held out Gambol Shroud by her side.

No words were said; there wasn't any need to.

The butcher rushed towards her, closing the short distance in an instant as he threw a punch right towards her face. But it was sloppy; telegraphed. In an instant she focused on her Aura, channeling it towards the dust in Gambol Shroud as an image formed in her mind.

She took a single step back, now standing right at the edge of her the trunk as the butcher's fist got closer.

And then a perfect duplicate of herself appeared in the exact spot she stood a second ago. She saw the butcher's eyes widen just as his fist hit her copy. His fist that went through her copy, what was once her face now a static-like black.

She pulled the trigger on Gambol Shroud. The static suddenly turned blue, reforming around the butcher's fist.

And her copy had suddenly become rigid as it turned to solid ice. The butcher's fist was now completely trapped in a block of ice shaped just like her own face as he let out a short scream.

She rushed around her ice-copy, Gambol Shroud pulled back towards her shoulder blades. She had him; he was trapped and there was no time at all for him to react. No matter what kind of Semblance he had, it wouldn't make any difference once she attacked. First, she would strike his neck, disorienting him, then his crouch, followed by a high kick to the temple, and then pin him down before knocking him out.

The butcher followed her movements, blue eyes narrowed as she got closer.

All she needed was to get in range, and then she would get this murderer back for—.

As she took another step towards the butcher, she tripped.

Her eyes went wide.

She tripped. Somehow, she hadn't seen something on the floor, and was now falling forward without even a chance to see what exactly she tripped on.

Because the butcher saw her tripping, saw that she was unbalanced and vulnerable, and moved. In an instant, he ripped out his fist from her ice-copy, not even struggling slightly as blocks of ice pelted her skin.

"I warned you."

Even with the roaring gales of the highway, she could still make out the murderer's cold, almost lifeless, words.

And then he threw another punch. One that was heading right towards her face.

She tried to react. She tried to get regain as much balance as she before lashing out with Gambol Shroud. But her strike was shaky at best, lacking her usual grace and coordination, so her weapon just barely sliced into the clothing covering the butcher's forearm, a long cut now present on his skin as she saw blood leak from his sleeve.

And then his fist hit her left eye. She braced her self for the pain, teeth grit, and prepared to roll with punch the moment she felt it sink into her skin.

But the pain never came. Instead of following through with his punch, the butcher just...left his fist right on top of her eye.

She immediately saw her chance. She moved, Gambol shroud already raised for another slash and—.

She realized something.

She hadn't moved.

She wanted to, but she didn't. When she tried to move any of her limbs, they didn't respond in the slightest; not even twitching. It was like...it was like she just been paralyzed to the spot.

Her eyes—the only thing she could move—darted in every direction; though, she could only see out of one since the other was covered right now. She saw the bright lights of the highway, the glow of the barricades, and they all seemed so much brighter than before; like giant spheres of light were suddenly burning her pupil. The cars around her had come to a complete stop, not one driver moving. Including the butcher's own, who also hadn't moved even an inch as his fist still laid on top of her left eye.

If they could've, her eyes would've widened by now.

What the hell was going!? Everything around her had just...stopped! This couldn't be a Semblance—nothing could be powerful enough to cause, what seemed like, the whole damn world to stop moving! This was—this was just impossible and—!

She suddenly felt something.

Intense pain.

She would've screamed if her lips worked, but since they didn't, all she could do was stay frozen as agony suddenly erupted within her left eye. And it only took a second to realize what caused it.

The butcher's fist.

It had moved just an inch—barely even that much—but she still saw it. All he had done was press his fist harder against his eye slightly, and that had been enough for it to feel like her eye had just burst out of its sockets.

Every bit of breath left her body. Because—because if this butcher was the only thing that could move then that meant that this—all of this—had been caused by him.

That meant the man could somehow freeze everything around him.

And it also meant that right now, she was completely trapped.

She felt his knuckles dig into her eyeball, new pain exploding throughout her head.

Vulnerable.

His fist was moving faster now.

Helpless.

She felt blood pop form her eyeball; she could see bright red speck after bright red speck slowly leaving her face and erupting into the air.

And then the world went back to normal. She could hear the cars honking their horns and tires roaring. She felt the car beneath her feet moving at high speeds. She felt that her limbs were now free of the power that had locked them in place.

And she could now let out the scream that her throat had been trying to release for what felt like hours as Goldie followed through with his punch. Her body went flying off the car. In an instant, she was soaring through the air with no control whatsoever as her screams grew louder. But her flight came to an abrupt end.

Because her back had suddenly crashed into the side of a truck's trailer; hard enough to the point where she felt the metal behind her cave in slightly as she heard something crack. Her body then bounced off the trailer, and she fell to the asphalt below.

But as she fell, she caught a glimpse of Goldie; the vision out of her left eye was beyond blurry, but she could still see his face.

And the cold, deep frown on his lips as the car he stood on suddenly turned around, engines roaring before it accelerated in the opposite direction. And with her head screeching so badly it was like an air-horn was going off in her mind, she hit the highway.

Wait, no; she didn't.

Just before she should've hit concrete, she instead hit a bunch of red rose petals.

---

No, no, no, no!

She was nothing but a spiraling cloud of roses mixed with black that flew through the air. She was soaring away from the highway—red and black fluttering in a pattern almost like petals in the wind—and headed to the ground below.

How—how did this happen!?

Just before she hit the ground, she canceled her Semblance, red and black bursting apart before fading out of the world. She landed on her back, holding onto Blake tightly as she slid along cold cement; she had carried people with her Semblance before, but they had been able to stand on their own two feet when she landed, unlike Blake. And the only way she could think of to make sure Blake didn't get even more hurt was to use her body to cushion her friend's fall.

This was—this was bad.

Once she stopped sliding, her Aura protecting her from any injuries, she sat up, placing the back of Blake's head onto her lap. Pulling her hood off her head, she looked down at Blake and her ugly, massive black-eye; the skin surrounding it a horrible shade of purple.

Really bad.

"Blake!? Blake!?"

She was shouting; eyes wide, fear consuming every part of her voice. She wasn't dumb enough to try shaking Blake awake, not when she was like this.

Blake let out a small groan; but other than that, she didn't respond.

She clenched her teeth.

What happened!? They had been winning against Goldie! Then he suddenly started driving the wrong way to a bunch of innocent drivers, so she had to stop firing. She used her Semblance and went after him, saw Blake right on top of his car and trapping him in one of her Shadow's, and then—in a second—he burst free and somehow landed a punch on Blake. And then Blake let out the biggest scream she had ever heard from her friend before she crashed into a truck.

"Come on Blake, please answer me!"

Still no response except for another groan. She felt her face starting to pale as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to do.

How did Blake even get so hurt!? She should have plenty of Aura, so how did one punch hurt her so badly?!

Her Scroll was suddenly rining. She reached into her pocket, pulled it out, and saw Sun was calling her. She answered, putting her Scroll next to her ear.

"Ruby!? Ruby, what's going on!? Is Blake okay!?"

It took her a second to get under control; and when she did, she let out a shaky breath before she answered.

"She—she's hurt Sun."

"What!? Shit, how bad!?"

"I—I don't know! Her eye's really messed up, and I think she's unconscious bu-but—."

"Does she still have Aura!?"

She looked down at Blake. And to her, it looked like her eye was getting worse.

Her heart started banging against her chest.

"I—I'm not sure! She should have plenty of Aura, but that guy somehow got through it! And I can't tell if she's healing!"

She heard Sun growl.

"Damn it, what the hell!? Blake had that blonde asshole on the ropes, but something happened—!"

She didn't hear the rest of what Sun said. Because she suddenly heard Blake's voice.

"Ru-Ruby."

Her head whirled back to Blake, and she saw her friend's right eye slowly opening.

"Blake!"

She dropped her Scroll and lowered her head to Blake, her face only inches away from her friend's.

"Are you okay!?"

Blake didn't answer right away. She saw Blake's eye glance around, like she was having trouble looking at her, before she spoke; slowly, like it was taking everything she had to get the words out.

"He-head...hurts. A lot."

There was no way that was good.

"Bl-Blake, how's your Aura?"

She made sure that none of the fear or worry clawing at her heart showed in her voice as she spoke; she couldn't have Blake panicking like she was, after all.

Blake let out a small groan before she answered, her one good eyes glancing away from her and to an empty space to the right.

"It...it's still there."

Okay. Okay. That was something.

"I-is it healing you?"

"Ye-yeah. But...having trouble...concentrat—."

Blake didn't finish. she broke out into a fit of harsh coughs, and she saw spots of blood leaving her friend's mouth.

Her eyes went wide.

"Blake!"

She had to do something! But what!? She didn't have any medical supplies, and even if she did, she'd never been a doctor or—!

Wait, that was it!

Her eyes glanced around, and she found her Scroll a few feet away from her on the ground. She quickly picked it up and put back next to her ear.

"Ruby!? Ruby, are you there!? Ru—!?"

"Sun, I'm here!"

When she finished shouting, she heard Sun sighing in relief.

"Oh thank God. Wait, what happened to Blake!?"

She glanced down at her friend, who was still coughing. She bit her lower lip before she answered.

"She's awake, but she's pretty hurt. She says her Aura's still running, but I'm gonna call an ambulance just in case."

Yeah, they would know what to do. Definitely. Hopefully.

She could hear her own heartbeat thrumming in her ears as she let out a long breath.

"I need you to tell the others what happened. Tell them that not to go after Goldie; he's long gone and we can't catch up to him. What matters right now is getting Blake help. Make sure everyone else is okay, and then meet up with me. Okay?"

She heard Sun let out several breaths; if he was anything like her, then he was probably trying not to have a heart attack.

"O-okay. I will. Just—just make sure Blake's okay."

She stared at Blake as her friend let out another groan.

"I will."

She hung up her Scroll before quickly dialing 911. But as her Scroll started to ring, she looked up back at the highway.

This had gone so bad. She thought she planned for everything, but Blake still got hurt. Everything just went so wrong. One of her friends had gotten hurt. She could've even been—!

Her hands were shaking slightly as she stared at Blake's horribly bruised face. And for the first time in a while...Ruby Rose felt helpless.

---

Charlotte Sapphire stared at her passenger as he slowly came back into her car through the sunroof. The long, root-rope thing he had wrapped around his waist and had tied around the neck of her seat quickly shrunk, transforming back into a ten-foot-long roll of licorice—sue her, she liked candy. Her passenger then took the licorice off his waist before placing it back in the compartment of the car door.

And as he pressed a button to close the sunroof, the raging storm in her car quickly disappearing, she spoke.

"Yo-you..."

Her passenger was staring at her, an eyebrow raised.

"What?"

She slowly pointed a finger at him.

"You...one-shot a Huntress."

She could afford not to look at the road for now; there had been nothing but open space since she got away from that clusterfuck two dozen miles back. And she felt like it was perfectly fine to stare at the fact this man had just beat one of the girl's that had stopped Roman God damn Torchick several times in the last few months like she was nothing.

"Ah, I see."

Her passenger looked out the rear window, and she might not be able to see his face, he sounded like he was contemplating something.

"It wasn't that impressive."

Wasn't that—just what the hell did this guy do in his free time!? Kick Ozpin's ass?!

"First of all, that girl was a Huntress-in-training."

Her passenger stared back at her, raising a single finger.

"Second, I'm all but positive she had a concussion. She might've recovered fast enough from me tripping her to launch a counter attack if she didn't have one. Granted, I would have figured out some other way to deal with her if she did."

He raised a second finger. And she continued to stare at her passenger, eyes wide behind her glasses. Because what kind of damn beast could make it sound like taking on Huntsman, the guys who literally train to take on the Grimm, wasn't anything he couldn't handle? What kind of man had the power to turn god damn candy into actual living, breathing animals?

What exactly was her passenger; a man that could summon a monster and who chose not to use it against fully trained soldiers.

"Who the hell are you?"

Those words left her lips before she could help it. And the moment she realized what she said, she slapped a hand over her mouth before returning to face the road.

"So-sorry, forget what I said, please."

Damn it, she couldn't believe she said something that stupid. Like hell he was just gonna tell her his name just because she asked.

For a moment, she saw her passenger staring at her in her rearview mirror. But after a few seconds, he looked away and out his window.

"If that is what you wish."

She let out a tiny sigh, glad she hadn't pissed him off. Looking at the road ahead, she saw that one of the exits for the highway was coming up. And now that she had gotten them away from the Huntsman, it shouldn't be that hard to—.

She suddenly froze as she realized something.

She had gotten away from the Huntsman.

She glanced at her side view mirror, and she saw that there was no one following her.

She had somehow made it through literally the same girls that basically spat right in her bastard of a boss' face.

Her lips started to twitch.

She had literally been shot at, had a God damn Huntress on the back of her car, had to dodge literally dozens of different cars every two seconds, and yet somehow, didn't die. Which meant she was in the clear.

She tried to hold it back, she tried covering her mouth, but she couldn't stop it.

Throwing her head back as far as she could, she laughed. That awful, hitch-pitched giggle she hated ever since she was sixteen. There were honest-to-God tears forming in the corner of her eyes as she repeatedly slammed her hand on the wheel.

She did it! She actually fucking did it! Now all she had to do was drop her passenger off, and she could get back to her usual crappy life!

Her laughs got louder, and the tears were falling freely down her face.

"...Are you alright?"

She just managed to get enough control herself to turn around. Now facing her passenger, she saw he looked a bit concerned as he stared at her.

"I-I'm fine, I'm fine. Really."

She wiped the tears away from her eyes.

"I'm just so glad I'm alive right—."

There was an explosion.

Her eyes widened as she saw about a hundred feet away a ball of fire erupt into the night sky. And from within that fire, she saw cars flying through the air; some going over the edge of the highway and some hitting the ground so hard she felt it shake.

Her passenger suddenly leaned forward, eyes narrowed as he looked ahead.

"What was—?"

This time there was a crash. Before she had a chance to slow down, a truck right in front of her suddenly veered to the right, crashing into the concrete barricades. The trailer that was attached to it suddenly fell to the side and headed right for her.

She turned the steering wheel as fast as she could as her car swerved to the left, just avoiding the trailer as it hit the ground. And from the way it had hit the street, it essentially made it impossible for her to go back the way she came.

She suddenly started to sweat. The breaths that left her lips were somewhat shaky as she saw that parts of the highway now had small fires scattered through the asphalt; fires that looked to be getting bigger as they raged and burned the road. And there were also a lot of upturned cars that were wrecked in every way imaginable; some of them even had people in them who were still alive, but not for long. Because the fires that consumed the cars were also burning them alive as they screamed.

She had to swallow down some vomit. This...this was not good. It was obvious that something had caused these cars to crash, but what—?

"Stop the car!"

She flinched as her passenger shouted. She glanced at her rearview mirror and saw his eyes were wide.

"Wha-what, why-!?"

"There is no time for questions, just stop the—!"

She heard it. That sound. That sound that promised death.

Her skin turned completely white.

It was like mirrors. Thousands and thousands of mirrors all crashing down at the same time on a floor that no one could see except for one person. No, except for one demon.

With wide, terrified eyes, she glanced away from the rearview mirror.

And she saw pink and brown hair—cut perfectly down the middle—with streaks of white running through it.

She saw a pale pink eye and a brown eye staring right through her soul.

She saw motherfucking Neopoiltain giving her that horribly large smile of hers that showed of her teeth as she stood on the hood of her car; the umbrella in her left hand billowing in the wind.

...She should've kept her mouth shut.

"Fuck me."

That was it. Those two words would be the last thing she would ever say.

Because the moment she stopped talking, without even giving her the time to scream, Neopolitian took out the blade within her umbrella, stabbed forward, broke the windshield of her car into a million pieces, and then pierced her God damn heart.

She coughed blood.

And her car spun out of control.

To Be Contniued~