The Cosmic Cycle

Chapter 9

Madness and Rage

He had been walking along for at least an hour at this point, cutting down grimm here and there every few minutes as he strolled through the desolate ruins. He'd managed to get somewhere around halfway through the city, though in his defense he was walking at a minimized pace to memorize what area he could along the way in case he ever needed to come back through here.

He could have flown over the place and gotten a birds eye view, but his memory wasn't exactly photographic. He was able to remember quite a bit in terms of landscapes and cave systems, as it was pretty much mandatory for his survival back during the terraria days to trawl through them often, but he wasn't that good. Not to mention it also ran the risk of him being spotted if he decided to fly his way down to Vale, which was another can of beans he really didn't want to open until his plan properly came to fruition.

Well, one of them anyway.

So he decided to at least make some worth of the trip by doing this. Though it'd probably take a couple more to get the place down, it wasn't anything new he had to deal with; what with constantly needing to go out into the wilds to find items, get food, and slay monsters or the like. Attempting to force himself into something however usually ended up with him taking longer; probably because he ended up paying less attention from getting irritated or gaining tunnel vision, which was common whenever he tried to rush things.

Patience wasn't exactly his strong suit when he had a schedule to keep. Call it a bad habit like the old group did, but he really couldn't help it.

A man was allowed a few flaws, wasn't he?

So yeah, in times where there wasn't anything to fight, it was better to take in the area around you if you ever did. It might've seemed pretty obvious; like, one n' done, right? But with nature being its mischievous self, the terrain could change from a boss skirmish, invasion, or nature going its course; even if it was only minute.

Or you coulda been him and inadvertently brought the hallow to the land, or meteors of different kinds started raining from the sky every few weeks, basically changing said terrain to a significant degree, depending on how big the rock was at impact.

Though in the nine months he'd been here, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of such things at any point. Not even any Corruption or Crimson from breaking those demon altars, which admittedly still worried him since it meant it was still growing somewhere in Remnant unchecked. The sole exception was the small area of hallow about three klicks he created himself due to a self-imposed mission, which he made sure to wall it off with an ass-load of bricks and wood, along with some signs warning any passer-by's not to take any dirt from the land while explaining why. He wondered initially if they could've read the written language at first, but those fears were assuaged when he passed by a diner menu. Aside from certain words forms being different between them, it should've still been legible enough for one to make out the meaning behind it.

Hopefully.

Last thing he needed was another outbreak. God forbid if he learned of it through someone else and he needed to bolt back to fix yet another mistake; indirectly or otherwise. The previous incident with a small amount of Corruption he made was bad enough, having believed he had made it remote enough that none would find it. A greedy merchant and alchemist had a similar idea to him, wanting to make potions with the ingredients that could be grown in said environment, but didn't know the precautionary measures that were needed when they went back home and planted it. Took months to finally get rid of it, and he unfortunately had to kill all of them. By the time he was done there was already another chunk of Corruption that had popped up somewhere else too, so he didn't feel like he had succeeded much in any form during that time.

He would've done it again, but the locals back then...well, they didn't exactly inspire the best confidence after that. No offense to them; but when they call you a witch and tried to burn you alive and chase you with pitchforks and torches on more than one occasion, not to mention use mercury in their 'Healing Reagents' from those phony alchemists, you can't exactly call them the cream of the crop when it comes to their knowledge and caution. Sad as it is to admit, he had encountered corrupted or crimsoned human on more than one occasion due to their ignorance after that initial incident.

Though he can't completely blame them for that, what with the whole 'fairy tale creatures and eldritch horrors from mans darkest nightmares roaming the land' type deal, not to mention the fact they were in what he could equate as a fantasy medieval age. If he were in their shoes, which he partially was back then but that was besides the point, he'd probably be saying the same thing. It was more than likely they had assumptions that he was the cause of said appearances; which was something else entirely he really didn't want to think of.

But hey, advantages of being born on another more technologically advanced world at the time. Tends to pound realism into ones head before their own imagination. But even that can only go so far.

'Wonder how the earth is doing anyway?' Jonas mused. It had been well over a decade since he'd been pulled off of it and thrown onto Terraria; or Remnant, as they liked to call the world nowadays.

With a sigh he shook himself out of those thoughts, opting instead to observing his surroundings. He really needed to break that habit. Getting lost in his head in unknown territory is just asking to get shivved. Not that he would, what with his armor, aura and everything, but he'd have to be an idiot to become lax. His time in Terraria more than grilled that little tidbit into him.

His eyes sharpened at the sound of rocks shifting, knocking into each other a ways away from him. Jonas turned his head, looking for the source of the sound, but found nothing worth noting. No recent prints or claw marks to be seen.

It could've been the wear and tear he supposed, but he didn't live this long by choosing to ignore all possibilities.

Now alert, his eyes wandered from place to place, looking for any unseen enemies. Distant growls from various creatures sounded from somewhere beyond, yet when he looked down the street all he could see was the dilapidated buildings and the ruined road.

He was probably surrounded.

Again.

Materializing Vortex Beater and Excalibur while taking a combat stance. Slowly he moved towards one of the broken buildings, looking down his sights of his gun. A back to the wall was better than a back open to being clawed at or bitten from behind.

The staccato of growling, roars and howls slowly grew, and a steady thumping began to be heard shortly thereafter. From the sounds of it, it wasn't in any one direction. Certainly wasn't near-deafening, but it was plenty loud all on its own; which was rather concerning if one considers that he wasn't feeling strong negative emotions. Sure, he was being melancholic and a little negative lately, but at maximum it was the barest feeling of it; not enough to draw a crowd of enemies that could make such a building crescendo. He would've pulled a horde of them already when he jumped off the side of the mountain otherwise.

A quick pull of the trigger had a bullet landing between the eyes of a basic beowolf that had turned the corner, intent to be the first to kill their quarry, and he held it down as a small horde of Grimm quickly followed suit behind them; layering plasma blasts and bullets with the projectile swings of his sword in attempts to drop their numbers, with varying degrees of success. The young among them walked into the line of fire, meeting quick ends by a hail of bullets or explosions, but the older, more experienced of them had looked to pull back quickly, taking up an alternate route while another group poured in from his right.

He concluded that continuing to stay and fight in his current position would lead him to fighting up close and personal with them. It wasn't that he couldn't handle it. Quite the contrary, he dealt with endless hordes with nothing but his guns and blades in heavily enclosed spaces he knew nothing about. The difference was, the more wise of the group were probably hoping for that to occur, wanting to lead him on; taking him on a merry chase in attempts wear him out enough to properly take him out themselves while he was dealing with the trash mobs.

Credit to the Grimm where it was due. For soulless beings as the other races claim them to be, they were intelligent enough to learn and adapt from encounters. Didn't know how long their lifespans were, or even if they were the same between the different forms they could take; making them an even larger threat than anyone could properly predict in large hordes. Smaller groups could definitely still be a viable danger, sure, but those who still did that were rare and far between; not to mention they were often all incredibly old at that point.

He jumped into the air, landing atop the broken wall of one of the many ruined buildings as he continued to rain metal hail on his foes. His blade vanished from his hand as his aura and mana began to manifest, followed along by two shades of dust on his coat. He threw his hand forward, and in the process made a line of water and ice shaped like daggers spread out into the air. Created by dust and held aloft by his magic, he launched the slowly building projectiles like a wave, piercing the second group, all the while firing at the first with his gun. Luckily for him, and that's ignoring his building understanding of the magical arts, Blue Magic was his strong point. Taking into account the benefits he got from dust further easing his burden, he was probably one of the most dangerous folks currently walking on Remnant.

Dust was fucking awesome.

His heart and mind maintained a steady beat as he fought, forcing himself to remain calm and analyze the situation. By the looks of things, there wasn't all that much in terms of enemies. Sure, there were Beowolves and Ursa's of various sizes, but there weren't any creeps or deathstalkers. Even the Nevermores which, while uncommon, still popped up more often than most other aerial Grimm he'd seen, were nowhere to be found.

He didn't really know all that much about them in general. He had finally found a library a few weeks back, sure, but there was a slight problem he came across that forced him to stay there for a couple of weeks to better adapt to their common enemy.

What he read up on was bound to be a bit of a moodkiller.

Large groups like this were almost impossible to form naturally. Unless something had occurred to drive a great deal of people to despair, groups of Grimm that numbered in the three digits were incredibly hard to come by. While they did fight Humanity, they also had disputes with one another. Sometimes it was territorial; a group of Grimm wandering into an other's habitat. Other times, it was fights between the oldies and the youngsters, which was more obvious. But more often than not, whenever such incidents happened, the often outcome was a purge of one of the groups. And it wouldn't be out of the question if certain species despised others.

At most a single person could bring in a few dozen in an unprotected and wild area like this at any one time, with a couple more probably waiting in the wings. But a group this size numbering in the mid-hundreds?

He was probably overdoing things again, but again. He survived this way. Hard to argue with the results.

The tide of black slowly petered out, and he eventually let his finger of the trigger of his gun when the flow stopped. He couldn't see or hear the surrounding area due to the echoes of the explosions and the dust lingering in the air, but he'd be foolish to assume he killed them all, or that their elders had simply ran from him.

His theory held true when an Ursa Major broke clear through the wall he was standing atop, forcing him to take a quick jump off its rear end, and onto a rusted lamp post. He lifted his gun to fire, only to be blindsided by an Alpha Beowolf, knocking the wind out of him and making him land in a heap as he dropped his weapon in surprise. The beast lunged at him with arms outstretched, and it would've connected if Jonas hadn't gathered his wits before he landed; firmly planting the soles of his greaves into its mid-section and launching them away from him.

'Smart little buggers.' He griped, standing on his feet. He lifted one of his legs, and on the bottom of his foot an orange runic circle appeared; the center bearing the symbol of a crumbling mountain. Slamming said foot onto the ground, had an immediate effect as the earth trembled; the alpha that had attacked him being impaled by some three spikes out of the five that had extended from the ground, piercing it through its head from the bottom of its jaw, as well as its shoulder and stomach.

A roar alerted him to the Ursa behind him, and he threw himself forward to dodge a swing that snapped the metal lamp post like a twig, leaving a long, deep gash in the tarmac and sidewalk. He quickly pulled his sword out again, flipping it onto a reverse grip as the bear lumbered onto two feet, and flung himself at it backwards while jabbing his arm out; stabbing it where he thought its heart would be. Kind of up in the air for beasts that literally fade into nothing after you kill the damned things; even the blood. Pulling it out, he quickly turned as he twisted the blade into a proper hold, and slashed at the Ursa, leaving a deep gash in its belly, before he threw himself out of its way as it fell.

He couldn't relax however, as yet more Grimm, all of which were Alphas or Majors, finally meandered onto the street, along with the single creep every now and then. They numbered in the couple of dozens, and his gun just so happened to be somewhere behind the wall of black and white that had built itself around him.

He snorted in amusement as he took in his surroundings, switching out his blade for his dolphin minigun, and quickly bringing up his inventory; switching out his standard bullets to his more potent gold rounds, which he had laced with green dust to increase its velocity. To his growing mirth, they seemed confused at the sight of his weapon.

"Yeah." He grinned. "I thought the same thing."

Pulling the trigger, he unleashed a storm of gold; each round bursting from the muzzle with gusto, surrounded by a swirling mass of air. Each shot punched a hole into its target. It didn't matter if it hit the bone plates or the flesh, both were punctured easily enough to leave craters or noticeable cracks in the plates surrounding the holes from their points of entry.

The Grimm scrambled as they attempted to find cover, but it did them little good; ripping through brick and drywall with ease. The smaller ones, namely the creeps and Beowolves, charged at him in attempts to silence his gun long enough for the rest to dog-pile on him, and were met with stiff resistance in the form of stone spikes jutting out from the ground abruptly; killing and wounding a few of them while forcing them back. Two small groups that had been at the back of the main group had enough time to jump over the trap, only to be met with the blunt end of his weapon shoving them back violently; throwing them back before they themselves turned into mulch for the trouble.

He danced around the street, leaving any and all that made such an attempt–which was two if anyone was wondering–met similar fates, leaving them unable to get properly close to him to get a shot in. Without an effective method to subdue him, he mowed them down with little effort; filling them full of holes in seconds, and whittled there numbers down to nothing in less than a minute. Dissipating corpses littered the ground, numbering somewhere around the upper double digits, if not the lower triple; though he couldn't be bothered to count them up, not when they'd vanish in the middle of it.

Smoke and dust scoured the area, and the smell of gunpowder and ozone invaded his nostrils, though he payed it no mind; keeping an eye on his surroundings and his gun at the ready as he slowly made his way over to his beater and returning it to his inventory. The obstructions slowly gave way, revealing the ground and walls plastered with bullet holes, or simply destroyed by it. Craters remained from where he unloaded his beater, showing nothing but chunks of the beasts that were slowly vanishing into nothing. The daggers of ice remained. Dozens, if not hundreds of them slowly melting under the light of the sun, or completely buried in the corpses of the Grimm.

Slowly, he lowered his gun at the sound of silence, turning his head this way and that to catch anything he might have missed, and still he found nothing. No insidious individuals who might have corralled them and set em off against him. Jonas pocketed his weapon, and slowly let his arms fall to his sides.

'Maybe I'm just overthinking things?'

He realized in a few short moments that he was nowhere off his mark.

Distant yet quick footsteps quickly grew louder from behind him before abruptly stopping altogether. His eyes widened slightly, and he threw himself into the air, backflipping away and ending up back on his feet a good ten feet away. The tarmac where he once stood cracked under the pressure from a leather boot.

Jonas heard the man give a deranged giggle as he landed. His eyes quickly surveyed the new hostile, finding a man in an open leather jacket that ran down to his knees, covering white pants and leather boots with knee protectors. Writs blades lay folded on his arms, and he thought he might've spotted the barrel of a gun hidden underneath his leather vambraces. Above his large, thick belt, he could see a small line of his chest was lined with a few jagged scars.

The brown haired man looked at him with an unhinged stare, his braided ponytail blowing in the wind. His yellow eyes pupils were pinpricks, adding to his disturbed aura.

{Black Knight}

[Tyrian Callows]

(Faunus)

Health:

100/100

Aura:

316/316

'Another black chess piece, huh? Must be with that girl then. If those Grimm were his doing, then they were probably meant to probe me. Or kill me if they thought I was weaker than they suspected.' Jonas' brows furrowed. '...I can't find any noticeable faunus traits on him though. Maybe he lost them some time ago?'

"My my, aren't you a quick one!" Tyrian said airily, giving Jonas a childlike smile that only served to make shivers run down his back. It'd be pretty hard to ignore the bloody, crimson flag he was waving. "And here I thought I had the drop on you despite your awareness!"

"...Have a few too many fights under my belt for that, I'm sorry to say." He replied after a moment of silence. "Um, who are you exactly..?"

"Oh right! Where are my manners!" The man chuckled. He gave him a small bow. "You may call me Tyrian, my good fellow."

'Surprisingly pleasant for what he just did. Not to mention the intimidation factor...' He grumbled mentally as he casually talked to the man. Better to keep on airs around him in his opinion; might give them an edge if he didn't. "And I take it by you breaking the road like a nutcracker that you aren't simply here to talk?"

"Not at all, friend! I would love to hear more about you in great detail, as would my colleagues." His eyes widened and bulged slightly as his smile became more feral. "However I'm afraid I can't let you leave here alive. I'm currently on assignment from her grace to deal with you, as you've come with the misfortune of drawing her attention. You have to understand, one does not upset the queen. That would be most unwise."

"Is that right?" He drawled. Both men had started circling around each other, keeping their distance. "Then, would you kindly tell this dead man the name of whom you serve?"

"Ah ah ah, spoilers!" Tyrian giggled evilly.

"Eh, worth a shot." Jonas shrugged. "You'd be surprised at how often people spill the beans if they think their quarry is already doomed. Pretty hilarious actually."

"I am not like other people. You would be wise not to assume so."

"Got that alot too." He grinned. His mind meanwhile was a flurry of activity. Fighting the man was inevitable, and while he could fight with all the powers and weapons in his arsenal, but that left the risk of painting a target on his back that he really didn't want at this point. That's not mentioning that Tyrian likely saw his little display there, already giving them more of a picture than he wanted this early in the game. He could've already screwed himself as far as it goes, if they've managed to dig their claws deep enough in the kingdoms political systems at any rate. Showing anything more could throw him and possibly others into further danger...but...the other half of the argument was just as compelling however. If he didn't use his powers, he could very well die. And he didn't live this long just to have his heart carved out of his chest, you know!

Not to mention, the guy looked a little to insane for anyone other than his 'queen' to take seriously. Maybe enough to put him in a mental ward though.

What to do...

...

'Fuck it.' He shrugged. 'Better that then death.'

He snapped into action at the sight of a downward kick aimed at his head, turning his body ninety degrees to let it hit the ground with an audible crack. Tyrian's blades unfolded and extended, taking on the shape of pincers, and he gave a vertical swing at his gut. When that missed, his attacks devolved into a series of swings, punches and kicks that he deftly dodged, ascertaining his fighting style while attempting to move as little as possible to keep his stamina up. It didn't take long for that to break down however. The faunus' attacks had begun to increase in pace, to the point where he had begun to jump around the street again to avoid his attacks. Goes to show that despite the times people could still be pretty dangerous, though much to Jonas' confusion he didn't pull out his ranged weaponry. He'd seen enough of his swings to confirm their presence above his wrists, yet for some reason he refused to pull them out.

His attacker bore a large cathartic smile, looking to enjoy the battle immensely. Almost as if he thirsted for it. And yet...Why did it look like this guy playing around? The way he fought was a bit off off, if one excluded his range weapons remaining unused. While his style was accurate and quick in his movements they looked...crude. Borderline chaotic.

Though if he was simply farting around, then the point was moot until he actively came at him with the intent to kill. For all he knew, his current style was a ploy meant to lull him into a false sense of security before he used his real style, which would explain why it looked so rough.

Best to get things moving along before he gets too comfortable then.

He caught a kick aimed at his gut with his bare hands to stop the blow. Ignoring the force of the attack travelling down his arm, he wrapped his hands around the lower leg of his would-be assassin before he had a chance to move.

They gave a confused grunt, before it turned into a small yelp as he spun him off the ground. Quicker and quicker he turned as Tyrian snarled angrily. When he thought he built up enough momentum, he let go of him, sending the man flying into a cement wall with a shout.

It cracked and caved inward, yet to his surprise it didn't collapse under the force of the humanoid projectile. The assassin hung upside down in an indent of his own shape, and yet, unsurprisingly, barely looked worse for wear as he pulled himself out with an annoyed hiss. When he stood he immediately removed his jacket with a small growl, staring daggers at him all the while. Underneath lay a white vest, covered with several belts. His upper arms bore light brown bandaging that ran underneath his vambraces and weapons.

Was there a reason the assassin needed to remove his jacket, though? It looked large enough that it didn't impede his movements. It was possible that it was related to his faunus traits, but he lacked far too much information to be sure.

Taking the mans action to memory as a reminder to remain cautious, he focused solely on him as they begun another round. Nothing had changed all that much besides his swings becoming faster to a degree; though not enough that he couldn't see it coming with phys-en discreetly aiding his sight. The lunatic rushed him, throwing attack after attack, arm and leg; hitting close enough to leave small cuts on his clothing and skin, though the effects were minimal, what with his aura already healing the small wounds. His entire body was his weapon, moving with the fluidity of a raging rapid and the speed of a tornado. He had to admit, Tyrian truly was an amazing fighter. Despite his haphazard technique, anyone would be hard-pressed to properly fight him without backup. If it wasn't for his magic, he would've already sustained some nasty wounds.

Too bad he was a hurricane by comparison.

Though maybe that was him gloating. He wasn't quite sure...

Jonas finally took an opening, grabbing his attacker by a leg and arm, and dodging a wild swing aimed at his head by taking the arm he held captive and putting it into the line of his attack. A loud clang echoed in the empty street, Tyrian's arms going wide from the force of his own strike. Seizing his chance, he threw an aura infused punch into his stomach and temporarily winding him for a moment, giving him a chance to throw his own flurry of punches onto his torso. Nothing too fancy mind you. He only practiced what amounted to the basics and some of the more advanced techniques at the time, since wielding magic and weaponry and sometimes both was more useful, with exceptions that happened to be for his fists. He ended with an uppercut to his chin that caused a surge of purple light to spread outward across the assassins body, and throwing him a dozen feet in the air.

He landed on his feet unsteadily. Massaging his chin, he spat a small glob of blood from his mouth. He looked positively furious with him.

"You son of a bitch!"

*Crack!*

"AUGH!" He screamed, a small stream of blood trickling down his nose. "Would you stop punching me in the mouth?!"

"Then don't call my mother that." Jonas retorted, giving him an unimpressed glance, his fist still extended, throbbing slightly. Tyrains body was like steel! "I mean really, how'd you feel if I called your precious leader 'The Queen of All Sluts'?"

"RRRAUGH!" The lunatic roared, rushing him in a blind fury.

"Ya see? Not very pleasant is it?"

Attacks more feral than previous were the only response. His eyes widened at the sound of machinery being activated, very faintly hearing the sounds of gears and the like turning, before he broke into a series of somersaults, barely dodging most of the shots; some of which ended up punching through his leather gloves or smacking right into the armor of his legs or arms and rebounding off of them. A small grimace worked its way on his face at the pain. Small trickles of blood leaked down from where his attacks hit home on his arms, fading only after a few moments from his aura; the bullets that had embedded themselves hitting the ground with a quiet clink. A ferocious grin broke out on Tyrians face, whose arms were extended outward, seemingly enjoying the sight of blood.

Jonas however...

'Ah, god dammit!' He swore mentally, looking at his gloves and sleeves and sweating. 'Edmund's gonna kill me...'

"Do you see now? Your aura is so weak, it couldn't even defend against my bullets!" Tyrian giggled madly. "You have no way of defeating me, boy! If you surrender, I might just end you quickly. Or, at least, torture you quicker than I do the others."

Jonas quirked a brow as his misunderstanding. A few moments of silence passed before he broke out into raucous laughter that surprised the assassin. His expression slowly morphed into annoyance as his chuckling finally petered out as his eye twitched.

"No, that's not why I was making that face, buddy." He replied after a small sigh, grinning impishly. "Just worried what a friend of mine'll do to me when he realizes that I damaged my clothing for the umpteenth time. Guy can be downright evil when he wants to. And by the way, your aura remark couldn't be further off the mark"

"What?!" He snarled.

"Dude, you haven't noticed? I've been forcing my aura into a support role. Helps to save on some of it for more important things. Besides, I can take the hurt. Reminds me not to get too overzealous. That can be pretty dangerous." Jonas tapped his forearm. "Course, I've already healed the bullet-holes because of that, though I'm honestly a bit ashamed of myself. Before, I could dodge attacks like no ones business, but now?" He sighed. "Guess its because I haven't had a good battle in several months to get my survival instincts to kick in again. Must be getting a bit rusty."

His attacker growled in annoyance, looking just about ready to go and launch himself at him again. Instead, to Jonas' muted surprise, he simply grinned, jumping back and snapping his fingers.

Again, the earth trembled, and again, another mass of black came pouring in out from everywhere. Only this time, there was a wider assortment of Grimm. On top of the Beowolves, Ursa and creepers were a large group of boarbatusks, numbering over eight dozen at least; all of which had the smaller roads blocked off. Standing tall in the back was a Goliath, blocking off the main road with their sheer size. Moments later, another came crashing through buildings and Grimm alike from behind him. A small number of Nevermores and Griffons had started to do circles in the air, presumably chirping and screeching at him, though he couldn't hear them over the din of the Goliaths.

For anyone, they probably would've been quaking in their boots at such a massive group of Grimm surrounding them, their brains probably flat-lining in terror. And he wouldn't blame them. These fuckers could be downright terrifying when they wanted to be. He himself used to, but he learned to hide it better.

Fear was definitely still there though.

"So you were the one who had that first group come after me!" Jonas chimed in with a small grin, rubbing his chin as he looked around. "I assume you did that to have them probe me for my abilities then. Clever boy!"

"Mock me all you want fool. Words won't save you from the end." The assassin sneered. "KILL HIM!"

The Grimm tearing towards him, the ground feeling like a small scale earthquake. The Goliaths lumbered towards behind the encroaching group, minimizing what room he had to maneuver in; probably as a bid to make him desperate.

If the assassin was the one who sent the first group in, then it was just as likely that he already had a small handle on his powers. If that was true then...

'...Fuck it.'

After that, all hell broke loose.

Materializing a portal, he reached into it, and pulled out a yellow and orange whip which glowed brightly. He spun it around in small circles, and when the creatures got into his range he flung it forward. The whip extended and expanded hooks along its sides, tearing through multiple Grimm within its range; cleaving them in twain or leaving lethal wounds, and setting them ablaze before retracting into its original position. Those who stood too close to others who burned became fuel for the ever expanding inferno. The smaller and more fragile of the Grimm fell to the ground almost immediately, while the stronger of them screeched in panic and agony. Again, he did it from his sides, but as he turned to do it from behind he found himself face to face with an oncoming, ginormous elephants foot.

With a quick step back he narrowly dodged what would have been his demise; the end of its foot scraping the soles of his greaves. With all of his powers, even he wouldn't survive the beasts weight crushing down on him. Jumping into the air he pocketed his whip, and hid his demented smile behind his helmet as he reached the crown of the Goliaths head. Pulling yet another item out revealed a grey and gold drill half a body taller than he was, and just as thick as him. He gave the drill a quick rev, and then...

Then he began to drill into the dark elephants head; piercing through its bone armor after a few short moments and burrowing into its brain.

The beast bellowed, stumbling and bashing itself against a few buildings in a vain attempt to jar him loose. The structures, now having lose most of their old and worn supports, began to cave in. Some of the remaining Grimm that hadn't been caught in the blaze ended up dead; crushed by the massive weight, or left with injuries enough to no longer consider them a viable threat. A few of the Nevermores and Griffons were hit by some of the smaller falling debris, knocking them out and leaving them to fall to their deaths, while the rest that had been lucky enough to remain out of range of the attack had scampered off in fright. The Goliath abruptly spasmed as the last structure fell, throwing up a massive dust cloud as the creature began to list to the side; falling over and smashing onto the ground with a loud *BOOM*, though the crash was barely heard among the destruction they both had caused.

Silence passed for a small while, or what could be counted as silence with the flames and feral screams still going on around the battlefield. Eventually he had managed to dig his way out through the elephants lower jaw after a small while, covered in black blood and gore; much to his chagrin, and very much glad that he had equipped his mask beforehand. Jonas winced as his eyes finally landed on the destruction he had indirectly caused. At the very least, he had managed to kill most of the Grimm, scaring off what few that remained alive. Even the other Goliath wasn't spared from the carnage, a large shard of a fallen building having torn through the beasts neck; leaving it to burn amongst the flames.

It was good the place had long since been abandoned, though he silently wondered if Vale had been alerted by this mess he had been forced to make.

If his eyes hadn't been wandering the further destroyed ruins of a city, he would not have come across his would be assassin making yet another attempt to sneak up on him; his blade already bearing upon his shoulder and chest. He defended himself with the side of his drill, the clashing metal reverberating like a bell, before he tore into the faunus with a vengeance. With a hard swing from the massive would-be weapon, he very nearly crushed Tyrian; his opponent attempting to block it, only to slide clumsily out of the way when he realized he couldn't hold up against the collective weight of the attack. He mostly dodged, putting in a swing here and there that merely grazed his skin, which healed almost immediately afterward, or ran across his armor.

He made a small side-note to place bracers, and maybe some plates for the back of his hands on his gloves the next time he had a chance. Sure, it'd probably slow down his attacks, but with the way he was fighting, it was sorely needed.

Downside of Aura giving people an edge. He'd call it unfair if he wasn't using it himself.

Not to mention, he still had to learn how to properly utilize the damned thing. Jonas knew he could use it to strengthen his attacks or speed, but it ran under a completely different system than magic. He could still use it, but it was incredibly clumsy when he put it to use, which isn't even bringing into question how costly it is in terms of said usage. The sooner he found a teacher or a book to read on it, the better.

He was thrown out of his musings with a kick connecting with his stomach, shoving him a couple dozen feet away from where they started, his feet skidding on the ground before he finally came to a stop. The blow probably would've hurt more if it weren't for the leather and chainmail armor he was wearing leaving him feeling slightly winded.

"Quite the show friend! You certainly know how to give someone a good time!" Jonas gave the man a flat stare as he gave him a smug slow clap. "I certainly didn't see you defeating them so handily. Even the Goliath was dispatched with ease! And the Destruction you caused! Like a symphony I could have fallen asleep to!"

"...This is coming from a guy who's rather strange himself, but you are one weird bastard, you know that?" Jonas stated.

"So I've heard. Until I kill them." He faux whispered to him with a wink. "So far, you're one of the very few who've managed to survive to this point. And you've done so splendidly!"

'Here we go again...' Jonas rolled his eyes as the man started on what he expected would be another 'Join us' speech, before quickly cutting him off. "Look,I'm not intending on working for your boss, if that's what you're trying to get at."

"Shame...it would have saved your life."

"...Were all the Grimm I killed just now not a clear indicator of how this is gonna go down? Cause I feel like it should."

"Under any other circumstance you might be right. However..." The crazed man grew a psychotic smile. "Whoever said that was the only card I had on me?"

Jonas raised an eyebrow. Going off of that, it was pretty likely that he had more than Grimm on his side.

Course, it'd be a mistake not to mention that around the time he thought that, two hands the size of his head firmly grasped his own head. Shortly after that, his nerves began to scream in pain. If the electric snaps he was hearing were any indication, he was probably being electrocuted, starting from his brain and working its way down. His mouth shot open on its own behind his mask, though no screams worked past his lips.

'Huh. Clever little bastard.'

Wait, why was he being so non-nonchalant with this?

His head involuntarily craned further backwards from the shock, and he found himself staring eye to eye with a rather tall man with a slightly darker skin tone and short brown hair and beard.

"Sorry kid, its nothing personal." The large mans deep, gruff tone could barely be heard. He could slightly make out something violently piercing through the loops of his chain-mail and leather and into his chest. His pain receptors were focused on other things, however. "Have to do what needs to be done. But I'll try to make it quick."

His vision abruptly lurched suddenly, and within moments he found the constant pain he felt from his shock therapy had finally abated, only to be abruptly replaced with his face slamming into the concrete debris of one of the few buildings he had felled with extreme gusto; some remains flying into the air only to fall over his body, leaving him unable to move. Though it mattered little with his body temporarily paralyzed from all the electric damage it took.

Well, points when they were due. Although he should've known better, he certainly didn't expect that little development. Maybe he was getting conceited from being on Remnant for so long. Again, it had been several months at this point.

'Very rusty it looks like...' He sighed to himself. 'Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty.'

His body felt numb, all sense of feeling gone. His aura would probably repair it, but he idly wondered how long that wou-

He nearly let out a cry as his nerves recovered, flinching heavily under the rubble. He winced in pain as the pain slowly began to abate.

'Oh good, there it is.'

"Took you long enough, you big oaf!" He heard Tyrian snap at the other man after his ears finally stopped ringing, though they sounded incredibly muffled through all of the debris that had piled up on top of him. His eyes wandered in the dark to the corner of his vision, and was surprised to find that he had been poisoned at some point during his electrocution; probably from the poking he felt.

"You know I couldn't help that when he was dealing with that large a group of Grimm." The larger man chided. "If I tried, he may have severely wounded me in the process. If you had a little more self-control and sent them in smaller groups, I might've been able to deal the stunning blow sooner, and with less casualties on our queens end."

"Well excuse me for trying to following our goddess' orders!"

'Geese, these guys just go on and on...' He rolled his eyes under his mask. He was starting to get the feeling back in his arms and legs; both for good and ill, if one considered the small tremors that ran through them. 'Know what? Doesn't matter. Works in my favour, anyway.'

The two continued to prattle on, seemingly unaware for a moment of the shaking debris before their eyes absently wandered to it a few moments later.

*BOOM!*

Too bad by then, he had already recovered.

Quietly he walked out of the crater, his helm gone as he drank a viscous green liquid from an ugly, gelatinous green mass in his hand. He gave a satisfied, if resignedly disgusted sigh as the material faded into shards of light, before giving the two of them a comical grin.

His eyes quickly wandered over the large man next to Tyrian. Clothed in a simple three quarter sleeve black and green shirt with two lightning dust crystals embedded into his skin much to his surprise, and simple, if slightly stylized black pants, with two small pouches on each of his legs and a set of worn steel toe leather boots. His weathered face said he looked well into his forties, and while his eyes showed his experience in battle, they also carried a small sign of surprise, and oddly enough remorse.

{Black Rook}

[Hazel Rainart]

Health:

100/100

Aura:

380/420

Current Buffs:

{Extreme Pain Tolerance}: Greatly numbed to pain.

[Dust Enhancement (Electric)]: Movement and Attack Speed are greatly increased. Damage greatly increased.

Yet another chess piece added to the pile. Going by that idiom, whoever the queen is for them had to be a rather fearsome foe; especially so considering they could control Grimm. But if she was the Queen, then who was the King?

Quickly sneaking a look, he found a scorpion tail on the first of his would-be killers. It suddenly made much more sense of why he removed his coat, not to mention the prickling feeling that resulted as he was getting shocked. The thickness and look of the ribbed belt should have given it away, but he wasn't sure what animal traits the Faunus people could hold.

"You know, I honestly didn't see that coming." He shrugged, a curious expression on his face. "Really, it's more a sign of how rusty I've gotten in recent months, but all the same; I certainly didn't expect you to actually have another human being backing you up in this, let alone the scorpion tail. Though really, that's more me reasoning that I couldn't see anyone working with you willingly, Tyrian. Since you seem quite insane in your own right, it seemed pretty far-fetched that anyone would want to be anywhere within fifty feet of you."

He continued as the man in question glowered at him. "And that's on me. For not considering how someone with your level of skill, which is rough but brilliant mind you, would serve someone who goes by the moniker 'Queen' unless you believed in their cause wholeheartedly. Admirable feat since, again, you act plum loco. But what really got me..." His eyes began to glow softly, narrowing at the two in front of him. "Was the fact you were able to control the Grimm; something I've never seen done by anyone since coming here. And that makes any man with half a brain who's been viewing most of these events outside the box ask... Who or what exactly is this Queen of yours that allows you to command such beasts? Are they possibly some type of scientist that managed to find a way to control them? Or, on a much darker thought..."

Jonas' Terra Blade manifested in his hand as a terrible smile grew on his face.

"...Are they Grimm themselves?"

The answer to his question never came. Despite how he hoped he might get lucky, they remained stone-faced to any probing he could manage at his level.

Old habits really died hard, he supposed.

"Ah well, can't blame a guy for trying." He said quietly, barely being heard by the both of them. Jonas pointed his blade at them. "Wellp, I'd try to torture you for the info, but I get the feeling that yellow eyes mcbandages would get off on that."

"Wha- I don't have a fetish like that!" He shouted in disgust. Hazels lips twitched unnoticed, and he looked away when the assassins eyes wandered to him.

"All evidence to the contrary." Jonas replied bluntly before shrugging, a hand behind him glowing slightly as a purple runic circle began to from in his palm. "Well, its not like I'd do it anyway. Don't exactly have it in me to pull a morally unacceptable stunt like that. Families raised me better than that. And I suspect interrogation wouldn't do a thing to you two without it."

The circle pulsed in his hand as he closed his eyes.

"Having said that though..."

The world lurched for him, and he vanished from their sight. It took them by surprise momentarily-

Before they heard the sound of footsteps behind them; electric blue eyes with white irises boring into their backs as a voice echoed.

"How about I make this quick?"

*SHING!*

Well
It certainly has been a while, hasn't it?
Having been working a graveyard shift for the last three months leaving me totally wiped before getting abruptly laid off, not to mention family matters which I won't get into, I've been left with a severe lack of drive in writing this until recently.
I won't apologize for it. Family for me is more important than this story. All I can say is that, other than me looking for work elsewhere, My focus has mostly returned to here. I'll be trying to get the next chapter out here soon, so no worries.

Stay Sober!