So, I think I'm finally slowing down my updates lol my muse is slowly dying but, I'm gonna squeeze tf out of it until its weak and limp
Double entendres aside, this was a difficult chapter to write. Since at this point, I've got to make things up, I'm trying to find a way to make things happen without making it seem stupid. Such as certain things with Orion and Tyrian and Hanzo's team. There are things that should be obvious, but idk, I've finally remembered how I was going to make this story continue and how it was going to end. I'm super excited for that, since all of this build up, all of this stress and anxiety that permeates this story, will be worth it in the end - at least I hope lol
ANYWAY
Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY
Chapter 44: Drown Your Fear
Tyrian was a man of many faces. Some would wonder if he even knew where he was; what he was doing; or even if they knew what he was doing. His actions, his beliefs that bordered on fanaticism, made for one confusing mess of a being, barely even a person. But unlike what many believed, there was only one person in the world, probably the universe, that really understood what he wanted. Her name was Salem. The Queen, the Darkness, the One True Goddess. As he tightened his arm blades, he took a deep breath, staring at his reflection. A psychotic man with yellow eyes that shifted to purple. If not a split second, it was for however long he wanted, smiling as poison dripped from the scorpion tip of his tail.
Washing his face, he turned and left the bathroom of his hideout. Popping his back, cracking his neck, he sighed, heading to the kitchen. He was careful, meticulous in everything he did, even if he may have lost his focus every once in a while. Such as his struggle to find the vegetables in the fridge. Slamming the door shut, he whipped around, anger in his eyes, "Where is the…oh right – Hehe."
Sitting at the breakfast table, a family rested. Gashes around their throats and chests – faces shrunken and purple with the very same poison dripping from their nostrils and dried eyes. A giggle started in his chest as he threw his head into his open hand. The sight made him shiver with delight – it has been a long time since he got to cause carnage, not since the Faunus War.
Sighing in defeat, he sat at the family table, moving their limp hands from the surface, glancing at their food left untouched. A full rotisserie chicken, a bowl of mashed potatoes and another with rice so fresh, it was still steaming. Reaching out, he gave himself a few scoops, before digging in like he was one of them. He laughed at their jokes, he talked with them, even shrinking as he heard their scolding for talking before swallowing his food. How could he forget his table manners? He was a guest in their house – any good person worth their salt should respect table manners at the very least.
Taking a deep breath, he poured himself a cup of water, sipping as quietly as possible, so as to not incur the wrath of the mother. Sitting across from him, head had rolled back, eyes consumed by his poison. He could feel her gaze, focusing on him as he set the cup down, "I'm sorry; it's hard to not gulp such crystal water."
No response. He nodded, taking a spoonful of rice and a helping of chicken. A giggle was heard, snapping to the child no older than seven, wrapped around their chair. Arms splayed against the chair legs, body seizing as rigor mortis tightened its body. Tyrian pointed his fork at the child, "so, they can laugh, but I can't?"
No response. The father sitting beside him, flinched before falling face first into his plate. Arms limp at his sides, Tyrian moved his plate, inching ever closer to the mother. He chewed, listening to their laughter and their jokes, even joining in for conversation, of course, making sure to swallow before speaking. The mother almost reminded him of his own. Out of muscle memory, he dropped his fork and activated his arm blades, picking his teeth. He heard her gasp, "s-sorry, madame, I didn't mean to startle you! It's just that I think there's a bone stuck in my teeth. Can you see it?"
At the far end of the room, four men and women stood, scowling at what they saw. A woman with a desert fox tail gagged, "w-what the fuck are we watching?"
"I don't know, but I didn't know he could get any more deranged," Dawa hid his greening face behind his collar.
"No comment, Hanzo?" Ardit couldn't look anymore.
"Nope."
"Why did we have to be stuck with this idiot?" Afra asked, "at least Roman is fun to talk to."
"I'm sorry, madame, my compatriots don't seem to share my manners," Tyrian bowed, "if you have a problem with this – then you can tell the woman of the house yourself! She cooked all of this for us."
Afra paled at Tyrian's abhorrent smile, "n-no, I'm good. Thanks."
"See what I mean," Tyrian giggled once more, "they don't know how to raise them right these days."
"Alright, I'm not going to humor this anymore," Ardit blanched, "they're dead! Stop this!"
"Oh please, keep shouting, Ardit," Tyrian continued to pick his teeth, "I hear tenement walls are thinner than you. You should probably eat something to fix that. Madame's chicken is sublime."
"I-I…" Ardit paled as Afra, "I-I'm not touching that!"
"Rude," Tyrian shook his head, "you just continue to prove me right. Who raised you people?"
"Hanzo, do something!" Dawa and Afra turned to the Alpha Yūrei. But the man simply scoffed, a hint of a rare smile on his face.
"Our dear Hanzo won't do anything," Tyrian smiled, sipping his water once again, "he knows what kind of person I am. Of course, madame understands somewhat. Thank you, I grew my tail myself."
"How much longer are we going to be stuck here with this psychopath?" Ardit crossed his arms.
"The man known as Anthony Greene and his compatriot, Colonel Blanche, have not arrived yet," Tyrian said, closing his eyes, "when he does, we will know."
"Who are these people?" Dawa asked, leaning into his chair against the wall.
"Ardit – you may tell them our targets," Hanzo nodded.
The bespectacled man nodded, "Anthony Greene is the son of Howard Greene, the CEO of the weapon's manufacturing juggernaut, Greene Armament and their subsidiary GreeneTek Arms. They along with several other companies were instrumental in the King's Fist's rise to power…and Project Freelancer. It was a secret organization that fell apart during the Faunus War. Corsac and Fennec Albain attacked their safehouse and destroyed the faction. However, that doesn't mean that they're going to be let off the hook for their actions in the war."
"Oh, we're not doing this for worthless platitudes, like justice and morals," Tyrian said, rising from his chair, "we're doing this because they support the King of Vale. We only want to do harm to the King of Vale, because he stands in the way of our Queen. Isn't that right, Hanzo?"
"Correct," the grizzled man nodded, "therein lies our reason for being here. The trial will go one of two ways, but either way, it'll be a result that is beneficial to our Queen. We don't care about the Arc – we care that whatever happens afterwards, it'll be enough to make the two Houses declare war on one another. The destruction would be unheard of. The King's Fist has weapons and machines of war that can contest with the might of Atlas – the Argents have high tech armor for their soldiers and of course, a rare type of Dust that has deep ore veins in their mines."
"I see," Dawa hummed, "imagine the carnage. The Grimm would have an easy target."
"Consider the King of Vale our greatest target," Ardit said, "with Hazel Rainart in Vacuo looking for the Summer Maiden, I believe this is all done to distract the King from looking beyond his borders. A war this close to his powerbase would take all of his attention, especially one as costly and destructive as the one we plan. It will leave Vacuo open for attack and if Doctor Watts succeeds in Atlas, then the General Ironwood will break away from the King, leaving him alone to fight the world. I wonder, how will that go for his growing cult?"
"You must have known that would happen," Afra turned to Tyrian, shying away as he neared her.
"But of course," Tyrian smiled, "people, human or Faunus, are fickle beings, akin to plastic toys. Their minds are not their own dictated by one thing – Fear. It was fear that made them huddle together like rats in a hovel. It was fear that made them discover Dust. It was fear that made them cower behind governments and higher powers. It was fear that drives them to act so base. Isn't it beautiful, that it's that very fear that makes our Queen ever stronger? It's that very fear that makes the Grimm stir for sustenance."
"We are all but pawns in the Great Queen's game," Tyrian smiled deeper, "our lives are for the Queen and nothing else. Our fear is because of her. Our terror feeds her, as it feeds the Grimm. Now, I'm certain you already understand that simple concept, so let me simplify it further – our job as her pawns is to be the harbingers of that fear. These plastic toys find their reason to exist when given hope, the antithesis of the Grimm. Our Queen has no need for devotion or love, she only requires our hatred and fear. These people – it is our job to take that hope away from them; that love and devotion to this false King who parades himself as a false god."
"He thinks himself still a man who can follow the morals of a man, so I intended to test that," Tyrian smirked, "and thus far, he has proven me all too correct. He wouldn't let innocent people suffer; that's just the kind of person he is. He would give his very soul to protect the innocent…and it makes me sick. Imagine, being so arrogant that you think you can solve the world's problems? Imagine being so consumed with your own pride, that you believe you can go against the very threads of fate – the same threads woven by our own Queen? No. He is a falsehood and he will be seen as one."
"Do you not remember the so-called Battle of Vale? He and his Supreme Commander, healed the entire city, reviving people from death who've been dead for two weeks at that point. But did he do the same for the hundreds killed in the Industrial Explosion?" Tyrian hummed to himself, tapping his chin, "I didn't think so. He plays a dangerous game, especially going so far as to heal these people completely. The people who he already gave jobs to, gave security to and someone to look up to – just saved their lives from debilitating injuries? What else can he do, in their eyes? He is deified in their CCTN, drawing a fanatical following, that we've heard live and thrive in tenements like this."
"I mean, this family right here, were people who converted," Tyrian cackled, "the madame's brother was a protestor injured in the Industrial Explosion and of course, one of the healed. Look in the cupboard, there's a small shrine dedicated to the King of Vale and his Queens, made of rolled newspaper and magazine cutouts. Truly, the devout will find a way in any circumstance. Incense burns in the basins, ash built from weeks of constant prayer – a true sign of fanatics. It's beautiful, but all in vain. Does he care about them? I don't think there's a doubt in that anymore. I just want to see, how far he's willing to go to prove that he does."
"So, when do we break Adam Taurus, Reggie Teale and Ilia Amitola out of their prison cells in Beacon?" Afra asked, scooting as far away as she could from the scorpion.
"There is something we're still waiting for," Hanzo said, "Doctor Watts got in contact with me yesterday about some interesting developments in Atlas. At first, I didn't know how to go about completing the first phase, but now, with the new information I've been given – I feel like all of this is just falling too smoothly for my tastes. It shouldn't be this easy."
"But why shouldn't it, Hanzo?" Tyrian asked, "You easily fought the Grimm when you were turned; and you were gravely injured by the Nuckelavee that attacked your village."
Hanzo glared at Tyrian, "my past is my past; don't bring it up again."
The Faunus simply smiled, "of course, my dear Hanzo. Don't forget we're friends here."
The grizzled Yūrei sighed, leaning deeper into the wall, "regardless…we shouldn't get comfortable with the situation here in Vale. If we slip up, it's over for us. The plan now, is to wait for the conclusion of the Arc's Trial. Disrupt it in any way we see fit and draw the King's Fist's and Beacon's attention away from the school grounds. Only Huntsmen who are far enough in their studies, professors and of course, the King's Fist Fireteams – all the rest who stand in our way will be first years or pathetic failures who won't do more than be cannon fodder. I trust that you three can handle that."
"And what's Roman Torchwick doing?" Afra raised a brow, "we haven't seen him since we left Salem's Castle."
"Well, he's doing what he does best," Tyrian smiled, "I dropped him off in the city. I don't know why Salem refused to turn him into a Yūrei as well, but it would seem it was for the best. With him in the field; his old contacts who now work for the King's Fist will find themselves in a position they can't just fight their way out of. Don't you see – the King has focused so much on bringing his Kingdom together, that he ignored the true threat to his dynasty – us. When the opportunity presents itself, we're going to make sure he regrets that."
Tyrian suddenly perked up, a shimmer in his eyes glimmering with delight. A rumble of car engines shook the tenement enough to knock the mother from her seat. He spun around speeding to the window of the home with excitement in his chest. Carefully, he moved the blinds from view, hiding behind curtains and columns, "come and see."
The four of them moved to him, carefully stepping over the mother's body, "what is it?"
A column of black SUVs drove down the strip, shrouded in tenement buildings and towering storefronts and businesses. People were in the street, parting ways for the coming column of vehicles. Street stalls and markets lined the sidewalks and the very road itself, but it would seem the driver leading the SUVs didn't care. People pushed their carts aside, moving closer to the rest of the market stalls. But the cars came to a sudden stop in the center of it all. Doors opened starting from the front of the column, revealing suited men wearing black sunglasses and ear pieces.
Moving back through the column, the opened doors, revealing armored soldiers of the King's Fist. Black and red urban ACUs, courtesy of the Ankōshoku Clan in Anima, they were strapped with the MA5D and BR58 rifles, standard issue for the King's Fist infantry. One by one, the SUVs emptied, revealing men with SMGs and sidearms, and of course, the two men they were after. A man with a hideous goatee and another with dark skin and white hair. They were the best dressed, wearing Atlesian cuff links, chains around their necks and rings upon their fingers. Led through the deluge of people, they enjoyed themselves, venturing from market stall to market stall.
"So, this is why you chose this place," Ardit turned to Tyrian, "I thought you were insane. There is almost no vantage point in this district since there were too many people who participate in the daily market."
"That is where you think too small, young Ardit," Tyrian nodded, "our goal is to be seen and sow as much fear as we can manage. These people, many of them pray to their King of Vale. Many of those faceless beings worship the King. As Roman does what he does best – it's your turn to do what's best."
"Alright, but I don't have a weapon," the Yūrei frowned.
"That won't be too hard," Tyrian said, "one of Roman's former contacts came with a special weapon chambered for a special bullet. Courtesy of our friends in the Brotherhood."
The teams faces lit up like lightbulbs, "I see…where is this weapon?"
"On the rooftop," Tyrian pointed, "our desert fox can get you there without being seen by the people who live in this tenement. Now, go, before your window of opportunity is lost."
Afra followed Ardit as her semblance activated, immediately shrouding them from sight. They would have believed they disappeared if it weren't for the door swinging open and shutting once again. As they went, Tyrian leaned into the wall, smiling at Dawa and Hanzo, "you know, I was one of the people who spoke out against the idea of Yūrei. We already had an expendable army of Grimm and yet, she was going to make something else? I feared that our Queen had grown complacent, despite all she had already planned. It seemed like too much, too fast, but now that I see the effects of it for myself…I see the appeal."
"What do you mean?" Dawa asked, clearly not the smartest of the bunch.
"He means, as Yūrei, we are basically Grimm with souls," Hanzo said, "that means Grimm who can combat the Fireteams of the King's Fist, huntsmen of the Four Kingdoms. We're Grimm with aura and minds to think of strategies and complex tactical decisions. We bring darkness where we walk – but we still have a soul. We won't die as easy to the machinations of the King or that Professor Ozpin. Better yet, if we needed to make political statements, we're normal enough to make an impression on people who see us. They won't think to look for Salem when they're too busy with their own conclusions."
"As I said before, fear dictates these lesser men," Tyrian added, "they are slaves to what they fear and that is what makes them susceptible to our plans. Truly, a fight that spells itself. Now, as Ardit prepares, I must do my part."
"And what's that?" Dawa asked.
"Have fun."
In the streets below, hidden by linens and drapes, two men walked with bags of fresh fruit and vegetables. Another held a large bottle of whiskey, sipping away as he nodded at the men and women offering their goods and thanks. Soldiers posted at various points throughout the market place, there were sentries even posted in the rooftops of the tenements lining the street. To his surprise, there was a forum forming in one of the large alleyways, with a paper mâché effigy of the King himself. Embossed with golden rays of sunlight and golden antlers springing from his forehead, Greene chuckled to himself – that looked like alright. Opposite to the King's shrine, there was another, to the Supreme Commander himself, with ram horns spiraling off his temples. Decorated with purple streamers flowing off of his shoulders, it was unnerving to look at.
At both shrines, pictures of men and women, children, who were lost in the Industrial Explosion a week prior. The people left offerings of fruits and flowers, candles and incense. To him, Jaune was just a King, but to these people, they were really taking the idea of godhood to new extremes. Once a devout follower of the Brothers, the man sighed, almost seeing the appeal. They were brothers in all but blood, Ren and Jaune, and they seemed to have similar yet opposing powers. It left a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as he walked through the market, eyeing the wares left for sale.
"It's crazy, don't you think?" Blanche asked suddenly, "a year ago, we were just ironmongers and soldiers of fortune. Now, look at us. We're fighting for a King and now that King has effectively become a god. What do you think of that, Tony?"
"I don't know what to think," Anthony responded as he took a bite of sweet bread, "I don't think I'm paid enough to really question all of this."
"That's not…look, are we fighting for the right thing?" Blanche turned to him, "I fought because I believed in the fight against the Grimm and this Salem person. Worse yet, I believed that the governments of the Four Kingdoms were a mess. But this a god? It's got to be some kind of joke. He hasn't said anything about it, other than weak denials of the claims. He didn't stop those people praising him in the streets, nor did he stop the news reports. He's just reveling in it and if I'm mistake, I could have sworn we were brought together to fight against a god, not prop another one up."
Anthony laughed, "what, you think we're fighting some kind of religious crusade? Look, the King has some freaky healing powers, that's it. Remember when we did military exercises in the Emerald Forest? We crashed after a Nevermore's Fatal Feathers obliterated our LAHAT's engines. With no aura left, and my metal suit doing jack shit to stop the damage, the King arrived and fixed our legs and spines with a flick of his wrists. Look I'm not saying he's a god or anything, but he's got some kind of godly power that allows him to do half the things he can. I mean, he's got nine semblances, that's gotta count for something, right?"
"That's just it though; how did he get that many semblances?" Blanche turned to the man, "it just doesn't make sense. From what I heard from his sisters, the King was just a boy with no training and no aura, until one day he woke up doing all the crazy shit we've seen. That isn't natural. But I am not going to go and question the chain of command."
"What can I say," Anthony shrugged, "I'm gonna be honest, I didn't think Junior would think of contacting my family after he and my sister fell apart and her death…while we never blamed him for it…it's a sore spot for my dad. I mean, Junior and my sister were really into each other, with my dad thinking of making the bear legit for once. Now with all of this, I guess he wanted to make some old dreams come true for the sake of my sister. Though, I'm pretty sure he doesn't care about all the political intricacies. As long as this fiasco with Project Freelancer brought up is handled with finesse, he won't have much to complain about."
"Speaking of which," Blanche turned to him again, "when were you going to tell me that GreeneTek was involved with Project Freelancer? I thought it was just a myth made by Faunus to have a human boogeyman."
"Oh, it was real," Tony nodded, "but I mean, I guess it can't hurt to tell you what happened."
"Here?"
"Please, like any of these people are going to harm the King," Greene nodded, "anyway, Project Freelancer was a private think tank that brought together bright minds and the best operators of the Four Kingdom's jobless soldiers after the Great War. Somewhat of a genome project as well as a weapons R&D organization, they made several iterations of soldiers and fighters with the express intent to make the best super soldiers one could ever want. There was some rumor that a second Great War was on the horizon with how badly damaged much of Remnant was…the head of Project Freelancer during that time was Leonard Church, an old friend of my dad's."
"Some things went out of control and one of their operators, named Delta, went on a rampage, hunting down the rest of the members with a powerful, terrifying focus," Greene continued, "many of the operators were physically, mentally and genetically perfect, aided with the best tech, best armor, best weapons and state of the art, Artificial Intelligence. However, something obviously went wrong and that's where Carolina and the Reds and Blues came into the picture. Their story is a complicated one but they are, for all intents and purposes, some of the most unorthodox fighters that have come from the remnants of Project Freelancer and that's what makes them dangerous."
"I see," Blanche nodded to himself, "Artificial Intelligence, that's what runs your suits right?"
"Of course," Greene laughed, "you think I'd be able to move almost a ton of metal myself? Much less fly? No, I'd need some kind of computer help to make that even slightly possible. Either way, this Freelancer talk made me hungry again. Thanks, Blanche, you've done me a real solid."
"S-Shut up," the Colonel scowled, "I'm just doing my job. Besides, it's what got me from sergeant-major to Colonel."
"Since you've been asking questions, let me ask one myself," Greene turned to his compatriot, "what do you think the outcome of this trial will be? From what I've heard from the other Fireteams in the other Kingdoms, this trial is played daily on their news networks back home. Everyone's talking about it, even in the Lower City of Mistral and the shanty towns of Vacuo. Who knew something like this would garner this much attention?"
"Well, the King has decided that in the wake of the interviews and PR campaign to mitigate damage control after the Battle Vale, he would be as transparent as possible with the people, to not create a culture of fear," Blanche nodded, "after all, I was the one who brought the idea to him. He wasn't here when the battle began – we were. We saw the kind of chaos, the carnage. We were barely enough to stop them too if it weren't for the King and Supreme Commander. Even Cardin was killed in the battle."
"His father is a High Councilman," Blanche continued, "with an unofficial King working against the Council's intentions, it's enough to make the councils of the Four Kingdoms nervous for their own power. They want to make sure the people feel their fear, by constantly pushing the story, I suppose. I mean it's working. Since then, Grimm have returned to the level they were before the Battle of the Docks when we were just a syndicate working in the Underworld."
"Regardless of what happens, I know the time of the Councils have come to an end," Blanche nodded, "we have seen for decades how weak and inefficient they are. They are a relic of a bygone era, where people believed it was an era of peace. The King stomped on that lie and removed the lenses that blinded us. I don't think the King is a god, but I strongly believe in what he's fighting for."
Suddenly, as Anthony prepared a response, a crack ripped through the ambiance of the marketplace. Shattering the smiles and hopes of people. Everything moved in slow motion. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. He watched helplessly as a bullet ripped through Blanche with a single hit, blowing out his left side in an instant. Blood spattered across the market stalls around them, painting fruits and vegetables red with viscera and blood. As the man fell to the ground, the soldiers of the King's Fist immediately went into action, raising their rifles and moving for the two men.
People screamed, running in every direction, stampeding over each other in the panic. Another crack ruptured through the air. Anthony snapping to react, couldn't move fast enough. As his aura activated, it was still too slow. He felt it, the bullet tearing through his flesh. Springing back, his blood sprayed on the soldier's faces. Crashing into the ground, he could hear them shouting commands. Guns raised; as darkness crept and his final breath was exhaled, they found a target. A man with a trench coat, but his face was hidden by sunlight. A command was given in the chaos – triggers were pulled.
Bullets sprang from their barrels, blasting in windows and obliterating brick, but they just couldn't hit their target. No longer a man in a trench coat, but a shadow, they had no idea what they were after anymore. Sentries on rooftops were at a loss – whoever it was, disappeared completely. There was no muzzle flash, nor was there a scope glint. Soldiers moved for the bodies of Blanche and Greene, but another shot tore through the street. A soldier was turned to red paste, another was split in half. The shots continued and the soldiers still had no clue where the gunfire was coming from.
"W-What do we do?! Blanche and Greene are dead!"
"I-I don't know!"
"Where did the gunfire come from?!"
"I don't know!"
Sirens erupted in the distance as people hid from sight, hiding behind their blood-soaked effigies and shrines. They clung to the images of the King and his Supreme Commander, clutching at the shrines as if they would come down and save them. As another crack tore through the street, and another soldier was turned into a steaming pile of meat, the people were terrified, with hundreds unconscious or dead, stomped over by the stampede. Police and King's Fist vehicles rolled into the scene, careful not to desecrate the dead.
Up on the rooftop, Afra tapped Ardit's shoulder, "it's time to go."
Giving her a nod, his gloved hands released the sniper rifle, letting it sit on the rooftop, the license number that lead to Dale, untarnished. Pulling the bolt back, he watched as the final casing burst from its chamber. He pushed off the rooftop and followed after Afra, still in the effects of her semblance. They moved as LAHAT gunships and Hornet VTOLs flew into the district. Troops were deployed on the rooftop, forcing the pair to stop. A whole company was delivered to the tenements adjacent and their own.
"Keep watch, men," a captain said, moving troops about, "we don't know who these fuckers are but they messed with the wrong people today. Search the rooftop and beware of any semblances. The sentries said that they saw no flashes when the gunfire went off, nor did they see any tracers. Whoever did this, knew what they were doing."
Afra pushed Ardit back as her semblance began to shimmer from lack of concentration. Taking a deep breath, she threw her hands over his mouth to stop his heavy breathing. Soldiers marched past them, one of them even unknowingly locking eyes with him. Thankfully, her semblance continued to stay active. As she prepared to move, under the cover of LAHAT engines, she paled as the gunship took off toward another section of the district. She didn't know what to do. Rooftops were always layered with gravel. Even with an illusion semblance, it wasn't at the level of Neopolitan or that servant, Emerald.
Before she could move, however, a shadow appeared near her. Eyes widening, she could shake her head or make herself known. Tyrian arrived, his scorpion tail inconspicuously wrapped around his waist, indistinguishable from a belt. Trench coat covering his scars and a mask to hide his face, he moved in without making a single sound. A dagger in hand, he charged at the infantry, slicing and stabbing for their throats, before they could get a shot out. Rifles raised, he ensured to put their comrades in the line of fire, giving Afra the perfect chance to escape.
She pulled Ardit to his feet and moved down the rooftop, sliding upon air conditioning vents. Rolling about, they neared the edge of the building. As Tyrian fought off the soldiers, it would seem he was quick enough and silent enough to not draw attention. But the powerful gunshot of a magnum sidearm, made the two freeze in their steps. Thankfully, an arrow with a wire attached, shot from the tenement to another. Soldiers below had not left their vehicles, with gunships nowhere close to their street.
"Okay, get your zipline tool ready, I'm going to have to deactivate my semblance until we latch on the line," Afra nodded at Ardit, "get ready."
"Y-You know, now that I'm here…" he looked down.
"You're tough enough to eat Grimm flesh, but you're not tough enough to handle heights?!" Afra hissed, "we don't have time for this! Soldiers are going to swarm this place!"
Before Ardit could speak, he was slapped off the edge, zipline tool in hand. Careful not to shout, he prepared himself as the hook caught the line. Behind him, Afra landed gracefully, zipline ready, Dawa and Hanzo were already behind them. Before soldiers and their automated turrets could find them, she closed her eyes, focusing. Before they could be caught, they disappeared from sight.
"Your grace…"
"We're so sorry…"
"We didn't know what happened."
"There was nothing we could do…"
Jaune and RRAYNNBW stood in the morgue. Silence between the eight of them, they couldn't think, they couldn't speak. Standing over the pale, empty, dead, faces of commanders and men they respected, was something none of them expected. Ruby was crying into Yang's shoulder as Pyrrha did her best to help calm the girl. Nora bit her lip, staring at the corpses of the other soldiers who died – almost fifty men were killed in a skirmish that lasted no more than thirty minutes.
"T-This is…" Blake hissed, her ears curling, "they've gone too far, Jaune…we still don't know who caused the Industrial Explosion, but this…the King's Fist found a rifle with the license number of Dalian industries. This is a declaration of war!"
Jaune didn't say anything, staring at the corpses slowly being unzipped from their black bags. Shaking in his armor, the King clenched his fists as his anger grew. Blond hair ignited as his eyes shifted to crimson, "I…how did this happen? Orion told me most of the Brotherhood has pulled much of their operations from Vale proper to concentrate on Glade. He said they have plans for Dene and Magnus, rather than Viridian Hollow and Orléans. This d-doesn't make sense!"
"They've travelled that street a million times!" Jaune shouted, "they were safe, that was a district that was fiercely loyal to me…how could this happen?!"
"How else," Weiss glared, "Orion must have lied to you. This means that they're gunning for our High Command…Junior–"
"Blake," Jaune said, "get Junior on the line."
She nodded, whipping out her scroll. Her hands were shaking as she scrolled through her list of contacts. Trembling, she suddenly dropped her scroll, eyes blind with tears, "Jaune…these are people I have fought with, trained under and learned so much from…these were more than just commanders – they were friends. I c-can't believe that this happened…I c-can't believe…I…"
The tears spilled forth as she buried her head into her hands. The anger rising, the frustrations and the fears, Ren took a deep breath, resting a hand on her shoulder. Overtaken by grey and pink, the woman calmed down, wiping her tears, giving the ninja a thankful smile, "this isn't going to help us. We're angry, we're heartbroken, but we cannot give in, not now. Something else is afoot and I don't think for a second that it's as simple as the Argents putting a hit out on High Command."
"W-What do you mean, Ren?" Ruby turned to him.
"How convenient is it, that they would leave their rifle?" Ren asked, "they used bullets that were fabricated in Dalian industry, using a firearm that was made in the same fashion. This assassin wasn't seen at all during the skirmish, unless it was when he wanted to be seen. This isn't some assassination – it was a message. One that is dedicated to tearing us apart and sowing fear into our ranks. Russel and Sky already abandoned the King's Fist and Fireteam CRDL – now our High Command is under threat? The Industrial Explosion, was the final push to make people believe Jaune and I are gods? Something isn't adding up and with everything that keeps happening, the acts of these would be assailants are becoming more and more clear to me, but I need more information to really get a clear idea."
"It would be easy to assume that this is the Argents at work, but I don't think that's it," Ren said, "at least not in the way we think. Think about it – first innocent people are harmed; now commanders who must have a personal relationship to Jaune are murdered, along with fifty soldiers. These are military personnel who are representations of Jaune's powerbase in Vale. Yes, the Argents and the Brotherhood want to hurt Jaune but a part of me feels like this is more…it's more like something Salem would do."
"Salem?" Yang turned to him, her eyes turning crimson as well, "that…"
"If the Argents wanted to make a scene to really hurt Jaune," Ren said, "they wouldn't bother with a trial for his father. Tell me, does that make any sense? They're already spreading fear and discontent throughout the world with people siding with either side of the argument. Why would they want to deify Jaune, if they wanted to hurt him? Why would they go through all of the trouble when they themselves could have used this supposed assassin to simply get rid of Lord Arc and save them the trouble?"
"From what I understand of the Argents from what Orion has told us, they enjoy spectacle," Ren continued, "they, despite having a cabal of like-minded individuals that controls laws and monopolies, they are not willing to go above the law. Unlike Jaune who has thus far, worked outside of it, the Argents and their followers are bound to it. This is not their style. Salem however…"
"After they do autopsies on the soldiers, we're going to review their body cameras," Jaune said, calming down, "I have a feeling what this is, but I won't just let this go. If it is Salem, then we know who we're delivering justice to. If it isn't…"
"Jaune."
"I'm going to remove Dale from the map." Jaune glared, "Simple as that."
"Wait, that's not right, Jaune," Yang held Ruby, "we're fighting to stop Salem, not become her!"
"They hurt us, Yang," Blake responded indignantly, "you may not have known Blanche and Anthony that well, but they were the first strangers to see me without my bow. They were the first to train me to hone my skills. They were the first to really show me that I didn't have to be ashamed of my past…just like Junior. I was an equal to them right from the start and now, they're gone. If we find out that the Argents are truly behind this, I don't care who gets in my way – Orion and that sister of his are dead. Enough of my friends have been taken from me."
"We are not doing this again!" Nora shouted, making everyone flinch, "Ever since the Tournament ended, we've been at odds with one another! We can disagree without threats! We're a family, damn it! It's about damn time we acted like it! People are dead…friends are dead…people who trusted us…I am not going to stomp on their memory before their bodies even turn cold! Stop this…please. We don't need to fight about this."
Blake sighed, holding her head in shame, "I'm sorry…"
"I am too," Jaune sighed, holding his head, "I don't know what's gotten into me lately…everything's just falling apart…and I thought helping those people would at least fix some of our problems, but in the end, it just made a million more. People are going to start asking questions…people are going to start coming to their own conclusions…they're not ready to hear the truth, not yet."
"T-This is why we shouldn't be revealing our powers," Jaune hissed, "this is why I wanted to keep it a secret, but look at what I've done! Whoever caused this put me on a spotlight I can't escape now. What have I done? What have I become?"
Jaune walked to the soldiers still in their body bags, tags dangling from zippers, "these were men and women we trained, Blake. These were people we fought with, bled with, cried with. Their families are going to want answers but I don't know if I can give them…leave us."
"Yes, your grace," the morticians bowed their heads.
As the doors hissed shut, he sighed in defeat, "I don't know if I can tell the people about Salem just yet…they're already worshipping me like a god – I don't want to reinforce that belief. I'm not a god! I'm just Jaune Arc! I don't need that kind of weight on my shoulders! That isn't me! But they don't want to understand that! They learn about Salem, and then what? It becomes a crusade?! That's not what I want, I am not going to be responsible for that! I did this to bring us together to fight against her, not make a group of fanatics – we are the King's Fist, not the White Fang or the Brotherhood."
"And before all of that, we're huntsmen and huntresses," Jaune held his head. Breath hitching, his tears spilled, trickling to his jaw. Teeth barred, he fell back, leaning against an empty table, "we're fighting against the Grimm, Salem's creations…but it's not just her – it's never just her. People have their own minds, their own will and their own ideologies – not everyone is going to agree, I learned this fifty times, but it just gets worse and worse, every single time…no matter what I do…"
"That's why I'm not a god. I can't fix every problem. I can't figure out what I'm doing wrong," Jaune whispered, "it just doesn't make any sense!"
"We had the tech, we had the manpower, we had the tactics, the logistics, and yet – this still happened!" Jaune snapped to his feet, "our enemies know they can't hurt us when they face us head on…so they attack us from whatever angle they can. It's only fair if we do the same."
"Jaune…" Weiss and Pyrrha shared a nervous look, "you're scaring us…"
Ren's horns activated, "Jaune…I need you to calm down."
Antlers sprang from his forehead, stretching and curling as Ren's began to straighten. A dark aura began to surround him as he turned with a vicious glare, "Why?"
The seven of them flinched, "what do you mean why? Jaune…"
"Do you not see this?!" he waved his arms around, "they can hurt us! They have hurt us! Everything I was afraid of is happening before our eyes and not one of you are taking this as seriously as I am!"
Yang's eyes flashed red, burning with an intense fury to contend with the sun, "we are, Jaune. Don't tell us we aren't."
"Then why are you stopping me?!"
"Because this isn't right!" Yang pushed him, "Look at you! You can't even stand straight!"
Standing up once more, his antlers only grew with intensity, but his breath never stabilized. His knees were weak, his arms were sluggish. Yang pushed him, watching him topple over a table, "You can't even keep yourself standing! You think you're in any position to be delivering justice to anyone?!"
"Don't get in my way–"
Yang pushed him once again, watching him pant with exhaustion. Sweat and frustrations growing, the horns thickened, darkening from their golden sheen, "What are you going to do about it, Jaune?! Are you going to hit me?! Are you going to hurt me?! What are you going to do to make me stop?!"
"Yang…you don't understand…"
"Do. Not. Tell. Me. I. Don't. Understand."
"Yang, that's enough!" Pyrrha shouted, orange flames springing to life around her eyes. Before the woman could say anything else, the dragon's fire ignited.
"No!" she snapped back to the Maiden, "We know this is wrong! We are not going to tolerate it! With all this power, this is how Salem became who she is. The inability to accept that things happen. It's how I became the mess I am now. You think I've moved on from what my mom said to me? You think I've moved on from my mom abandoning me again?! I haven't! You think I've moved on from all the people we watched die?! You think I've moved on from all the blood on my hands?! I haven't! But this, this won't help Blanche or Anthony! This won't help any of these soldiers lost!"
Grabbing Jaune by his collar, "Gods, I love you, Jaune, but you are being really stupid right now. You need to stop. You are our King, you're my boyfriend, all of you, my girlfriends. I won't stand by and let this kind of mentality fester in any of you! My mothers have been victims of Salem…I won't let any of you join them…"
Flames doused, eyes returned to lilac, "I just want our Jaune Arc back…I want us to go back to what we were before all of this bullshit happened. I'm exhausted, but I'm not going to give up on you and the ideals you believe in, because I believed in them too. You're angry, I know that. You want to stop this from happening, I get that. But where will you draw the line, Jaune? Where will you call it quits before you start acting in the same vein as Salem? Because if you start acting like her, then what's the point in fighting her?"
"You're so afraid of us dying, that you're willing to cross lines that we aren't," Yang said, "and that's just wrong. What kind of person do you think you'll become if you keep crossing the same lines you draw? I want them defeated, I want them gone, but I'm not going to go so far as to just obliterate an entire city! Brotherhood or not, like Cardin, like Junior, like all the criminals and gangsters that are in your army – they can turn their lives around! These men and women who are here – they turned their lives around because they still had a choice!"
"I'm not telling you to stop, I'm telling you to not forget your morals," Yang said, "before being a King, before all of this godly shit…you were a knight in shining armor. You were a man who raised his shield to protect others, you were a man who stood in the way of fire to make sure no one else would feel that pain – where is that man? What has he become? Because whoever you are – you're not him. Where is the man I love? Where is the man who sat up every night just to talk? Where is the man who went into the streets to build affordable housing? Where is the man who went across Sanus gave hope to the hopeless?! Where is the King who instilled loyalty and devotion through his actions?! Because the only man I see right now is a man with dreams of being a conqueror. I see a man so consumed by his fear, that he can't even think straight anymore!"
"We're people; not treasure to be hidden away!" Yang shouted, "That's what happened to the Girl in the Tower; that's how Salem became who she is! You are on a dangerous path that we can't follow, Jaune. But I'm not going to sit around and let this happen – because I love you. We all love you. But in the end, it's your decision. You know how I feel, you know how Weiss and Pyrrha are feeling. You know Nora and Ruby, Blake and Ren. Now what are you going to do?"
"I…" Jaune cried, "I…"
"Jaune…" Blake took a deep breath, "no matter how angry I feel…Yang's right. Ren's right. We shouldn't do this. Not like this."
"Jaune," Ren said, walking to him. A calm hand on his shoulder, the blond king flinched, "when we merged with the Brothers, we did so with the knowledge that we were going to watch each other's backs. No matter the cost, we will not descend to the same infighting that drove them apart. Not now, not ever. We are going to get through this the way we always have, all fifty lives – together. We aren't going to fall for Salem's games and we aren't going to fall for these Argents and their Brotherhood. Now, get up on your feet, brother."
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed Ren's hand, stumbling to his feet, "t-thank you…you're right…we can't. Not like this. But I can't just sit back and wait for the next assault."
Yang nodded, punching her knuckles together, "good thing you've got us."
"I've got a score to settle," Blake added.
"I can't let them get themselves killed," Weiss sighed.
"Fireteam RWBY is at your command, King," Ruby smiled, "what are your orders?"
"We won't learn what truly happened if we do nothing. I want you to investigate the area," Jaune said, "you four have always had a certain way with things – I know you can do it. We're getting close to the second month of Summer Break; school will be starting up soon. We need to figure this out as quickly as possible before the next batch of First Years start flowing in."
"Let's get it done, Team RWBY," the hooded girl nodded, "It's not just for the new first years…this…this is personal."
"JNPR, we're doing damage control," Jaune said, "whatever happens, we make sure that RWBY isn't found or caught. I don't care what we have to do. I'll distract the media; I'll tell them what they want to hear. Pyrrha, you're with me. Ren, Nora, see what you can find in the underworld. While we have taken much, we haven't taken all of it. With your abilities to disappear, Ren, and your abilities to convince people, Nora, you two would be perfect. Get help from the Malachite twins if you must."
"Jaune," Yang turned to him as she left, "we're proud of you. Don't forget that."
Orion watched the tv with a hand over his mouth. Rei and the others cuddled together as Yuki, once more, sobbed into Xue's shoulder. Thousands of people were in the streets of Vale, holding candles in their hands, paper lanterns and banners waving among their crowds. They sang and prayed as they marched together, blocking several streets and major avenues, banding together for the sudden loss. Tears on their faces, the somber emotion felt through his television screen.
At the front of the masses, the King himself and his Queen, Pyrrha Nikos, marched with the pictures of the Colonel Blanche and Anthony Greene of GreeneTek Arms. Dressed in black, their faces were pale, despite the warm candles and torches burning in the streets. Behind them, several men and women, draped in black, carried the pictures of men and women, bearing different ranks and uniforms in their portraits. There were humans and Faunus, young and old. Behind them, fifty-two coffins were raised with the banners of the House of Arc laid over. At the rear, the floats honoring the fallen were seen, bearing the colors of white and gold, black and purple.
"It has been a week since the fateful day, that Colonel Blanche and Anthony Greene of the King's Fist High Command were assassinated," Lisa Lavender began, "along with fifty soldiers of the King's Fist. Their names immortalized in the plague of Tarsier Pavilion. No one knows just what exactly happened on that day. Despite thorough investigation, even reviewing the body cams of the troops, there is no known suspect for the assassinations."
"While much of the body cam footage has been corrupted from damage, there were a few snapshots of the assailant," the woman continued, "the assassin is believed to be six feet tall, fair skinned and a man in his mid-thirties. There is very little information to give about this man, but we at VNN and all the news networks of this Kingdom are working around the clock to ensure you know who to look out for, for your safety."
"The King has some words he would like to say," Lisa nodded as the live camera feed expanded.
Jaune and the masses had gathered at Tarsier Pavilion, under the view of the darkened HQ. Thousands of people gathered from the streets themselves, to the rooftops and balconies of tenements. People whispered, staring at the man as he prepared himself behind the podium.
"I first met Colonel Blanche when he was just a sergeant-major," Jaune began, "not only was he a fierce supporter, he was a great friend and an even greater man. When I first rose to power, here in this very pavilion, in these very streets we stand, he was among the first to see a diamond in the rough. From the thousands he trained, to the thousands more he volunteered to help, we all here know what kind of person he was and what kind of morals he valued. The King's Fist would have been nothing without him."
"Anthony Greene was something I never expected," Jaune chuckled, "a filthy rich drunkard, a playboy and a philanthropist; he wasn't exactly the kind of man you'd think would fight for something other than himself. But he surprised all of us time and time again. From going out of his way to ferry the wounded from the Battle of the Docks, to his heroics during the Battle of Vale…he was a man of many faces, an enigma to most, but deep down, he was a man who cared, not just for the King's Fist, but for the Kingdom of Vale. It's people; me and all of you."
"To the brave fifty who gave their lives that day," Jaune began, "they were the greatest of us all. Men and women who stood firm in the face of adversity, men and women who believed in the fight they were fighting; they are stronger, braver, more courageous than anyone I've ever seen. I had the honor of training these men and women myself, uplifting them from the former criminals and gangsters they were, to honorable men and women who gave their lives for their people. It…it's hard, knowing that people I've trusted, people I believed in as they believed in me, have fallen to an enemy so afraid, they cannot show themselves."
"But whoever you are," Jaune began, "the good men and women of the King's Fist, the men and women of the Kingdom of Vale, are resolute. We will not bow to your attempts to hurt us. We did not fall during the Battle of Vale; we did not waver after the Industrial Explosion; we will not bend after this. Our friends, our brothers; our sisters; our lovers; our families – we will not let you walk over us; we will not let you divide us. Not today, not tomorrow; not ever."
"To the Brotherhood and the Argents of Dale. Your rifle was found on the scene. Your actions are clear as day, but do not think we will cower and bow to your whims," Jaune declared, "I can assure you; the King's Fist will get to the bottom of all of this. If you are proven guilty…there will be no hole to hide in, to escape justice. As the King of Vale, I swear this to all of you – we will make those responsible pay."
Orion paused the tv, dropping the remote to the side. Amethyst eyes wide and shaking with fright, his breath hitched drawing Rei's attention. The snow rabbit reached over, grabbing his hand, he only barely calmed to the touch. Jaune stared at them, a knowing look in his paused red flaked-sapphire eyes. An unspoken request, an unspoken word. Taking a shaking breath, the boy threw his head back, throwing his arm around his team, holding them close.
"D-Do you…t-think that y-your f-father…" Yuki said in between sobs.
"He couldn't have," Orion bit his lip.
"The only other person who could possibly have that kind of authority would have been Larissa," Rei frowned, clenching her fists, "but she's been missing for over a month. We can't pin this on that bitch if she's literally off the grid."
"But she would have no reason to," Orion said, "my family couldn't be behind this!"
"How can you say that? We all saw the news – the rifle was forged in Dale."
"Dalian Industries have made weapons for centuries," Orion responded with an indignant sigh. Running his hands through his hair, across his face, he groaned, shouting his frustrations, "it could belong to anyone. That doesn't mean a damn thing! Whoever's doing this really wants the Argents and the Arcs to go to war. I can't allow this."
"Orion," Rei turned to him, "what are you not telling me?"
Salem. Future. He knows the Marigolds.
Orion blinked, sighing into his palms, "it just gets worse and worse. We shouldn't have left Vale. We could have been the ones to mitigate any damages."
"What does this mean?" Yuki asked, hot tears steaming across her cheeks, "Does this mean that…that we're not safe anymore? Does this mean that the King is going to go back on his word?"
"No!" Rei and Orion quickly responded.
"No," he reached out, "he isn't going to. He's not the kind of man who would betray people in need."
"Do you believe that?" Xue asked.
"Without a doubt in my heart," Orion nodded, "we want this fight against the Brotherhood to be as clean as possible. If it's blown out of proportion, it will do nothing more than make an already bad situation worse. The Kingdoms are in a difficult place right now. In a briefing I had with the Ace Ops and several other team leaders; Vacuo and Atlas are beginning to fall out of favor with one another. Mistral is a corrupt hell-hole and relations between Vale and Atlas teeter in the balance, despite everything the King and the General have shared with each other."
"The SDC has moved into phase two of their departure and it's making things tense in Mantle and Atlas," Orion scowled, holding his head, "I can't know where Doctor Merlot is, if I can't find my sister. I can't deliver that information to the General to save us all the trouble, if I don't find my sister. My father is still in Vale, overseeing the trial. We need to find a solution that he finds satisfactory or he will return to Atlas and have us torn apart. My father told me…"
"Orion," Rei turned to him, "he won't separate us."
"He can and he will," Orion held his head in his hands. As if his brain was expanding in his skull, he fell back to the floor, clutching for dear life, "he said after my report that when he returns from Vale, he will have the Brotherhood and the High Council of Atlas decide on the merits of this team. He said he was disappointed by your performance in Vale, Rei. Whatever it was that Pallidus said to him before his arrest, it was enough to make him change his mind about this team."
"Y-You won't…" Yuki stared at him with wide eyes, "h-he can't do this to us!"
"He won't," Orion hissed, running his hands through his hair, "when it comes to, I will call upon the Marigolds for help against my father. There's just something I need to do in the meantime – I need to go and see the King himself."
"The King?" Rei asked with disbelief, "h-how are you going to get out of Atlas?"
"I have my ways," Orion said, putting on a coat, "I'll be back before the next school year. There will be the annual ball at my family's manor before the School Year. That is when I will spring my trap on my parents."
"Hold on, hold on, wait just one minute, Orion!" Rei grabbed the boy, "I c-can't just let you go on your own! This is not only stupid, but incredibly dangerous!"
"I know, but what else can I do?" Orion snapped, "I have put this off too long, Rei! My sister is nowhere to be found – my father is going to tear us apart – I refuse to sit by and wait for this to happen!"
"H-How are you going to get to Vale?"
"I have a way," the Argent said, "do you trust me?"
"Of course, I do–" She flinched as his hand covered her mouth.
"Yes or no."
"Yes…"
"Then trust that I can get this done," Orion said, "I have some people I need to meet. If I'm not back before the school year, empty my accounts and get out of Atlas under the cover of night. All of you. Am I understood?"
"Orion, please don't leave us," Yuki pleaded, crawling across the floor. She grabbed his arm, "don't leave us when we need you! Don't make it sound like you're going to die! It's not fair!"
"I know, Yuki," he knelt to her, "but I have to. I promise I'll be back…but as a precaution…get to Vale and take a boat to Menagerie, am I understood?"
"Crystal," Xue nodded, fighting her own tears, "be careful, brother. You'd better be at the ball."
"You won't even get to miss me," he smirked, "Rei, Xue, Yuki…I love you."
"We love you too," Rei bit her lip, "what do we tell the General?"
"Tell him I left to find my sister," Orion said, "if he brings in Robyn Hill, it's not a lie. I'm going to find my sister and I'm going to make her croak."
It was all a blur after he left the confines of Atlas Academy. Taking secret paths through the grounds, he slid down the side of the academy, carefully guiding himself with the use of his forefields. Dipping between pillars and columns, he flipped off, gliding down to the city, expanding snowflakes to glide down to the city proper below. A new movie was released, drawing much of the attention away from the skies, to the streets below as thousands of people clamored over each other to see the newest flick and party at the most popular bars and clubs. Shifting his weight, the snowflake crinkled and exploded, allowing him to simply land on top of a parking garage a few blocks away from Atlas's landing pads.
As he drove through the streets, he found himself in the far side of the city, toward the manors literally living on the edge of the world. Pulling a harsh stop, tire marks dragged across the street as he pulled up to his family's old manor. An unbuckled seatbelt, anger in his eyes, he marched to the doors, swinging them open after obliterating the lock. Servants jumped, running to hide behind ancient armor sets and podiums. At the base of the stairs, a girl with one bunny ear stood, wide-eyed and shivering.
"O-Orion? What are you doing here?"
"Is she still in her lab?"
"Y-Yes…but–"
He gave her a thankful nod and marched up the stairwell. A man with a mission, he burst into his sister's room, finding it as empty as before. Slapping his hand against the wall, the hissing and splitting came too slowly. Finding his opening, he almost threw himself into her laboratory, semblance already inflating and expanding the guards to near burst. With a flick of his wrists, they reverted, leaving them to puke blood and whatever else filled their stomachs and lungs. As they gagged on their own insides, the pair collapsed to the floor as broken, catatonic shells.
"Larissa!" he bellowed.
"Oh, my favorite brother," she responded with an annoying sing-song voice, "did you really need to traumatize my guards again?"
"You have a contact that can bring resources to Vale," he pointed accusingly, "I want a ride to Vale – tonight."
"That's not something that can just be done on a whim, idiot. And if you haven't noticed, I'm kind of busy right now," she waved him off. Before she could bring her arm down, his hand gripped her wrist, twisting her arm behind her back.
"Do not play with me, Larissa," Orion hissed, "I didn't tell anyone where you were because I still need your anonymity. I could have easily ratted you out to the General, to the King, but I didn't. I believe that's a favor you owe me."
"Well, I didn't believe it at first, but you Argents have a rabid animosity," a man said, "how curious."
Releasing his sister, he raised his hand, "who the fuck are you? Show yourself!"
A man with an undercut stepped from the rear of the lab. He had short black and gray hair, with a thick mustache, bushy eyebrows, and empty, almost dead green eyes. He wore a grey overcoat with a yellow dress shirt and black tie. A sinister aura billowed off of this man as he neared Orion. Taking tactical steps away from the nearing figure, Orion flared his semblance, expanding the man's suitcase until threads and stitching shredded. From the casing, bullets and cylinders of glowing Dust rolled about the floor, agitated and threatening to burst. But it did not stop the man.
"Who are you?!" Orion demanded, "Answer me!"
"I don't think that matters now, does it," the man mused, scratching his mustache, "I believe you wanted a ride to Vale."
So, Orion remains undecided and incredibly indecisive. Someone get this man the Relic of Choice lol speaking of choices, Jaune is really fucking losing it these last few chapters. Poor guy needs a serious break, as do the members of RRAYNNBW. All the things they're constantly fighting, physically, emotionally and mentally - it's exhausting and weighs on the soul.
Also, I really enjoyed writing Tyrian lol
Tell me what you thought!
Ja ne!
gottahavekyuubi