Music Choices: Evil by Interpol
Eclipse
Chapter 25
The Raid Part VI
"The taller the castle, the longer its shadow. Tear those bricks down, and you will see the stars again." ~ Vacuon proverb.
...
The halls were mostly empty by this time of night, save for the regular patrols of armored guards, and the battalion of janitors, maintenance people and kitchen staff that typically went unseen. There were several additional patrols tonight, strangers to the castle walls that the regular guardsmen and King Service alike studiously ignored when they passed in the halls. People dressed in plain clothing, but moving with the powerful grace of Hunters and their ilk, and watching the world around them with the cold assuredness of an apex predator.
These dark strangers were not welcome in the castle, even though they had been invited, and they knew it. By tomorrow morning, they would be carefully ushered out into the morning dew, the heavy, oak doors shutting firmly behind them. They knew they were being used in such a manner, and did not care. They expected no better. Instead, they saw their visit as an opportunity to remind certain factions of their presence; and to leave a few annoying little gifts for the Forzani's to waste their time finding tomorrow.
Several regular patrols passed a bland if rather heavy looking door with an intricate electronic lock and a camera keeping watch over the entrance, but knew better than to try to open it. Instead, they checked the last time it was opened and who it was opened by, and carried on quickly. They knew the King's Service was in the middle of some op or another, and most didn't want to get on the wrong side of any of its members by getting underfoot.
None of them would see a rather obscure elevator activate and then rapidly descend, deep beneath the castle's lowest accessible levels.
Ding.
Fifty feet below the castle's lowest known floor, two dark doors slid apart, revealing a mirrored interior and a figure dressed all in black.
The lone occupant of the elevator had a keycard in their black gloved hand, and promptly swiped it at the card reader. The three Hard Light force fields that glittered between them and the rest of the cell block promptly deactivated.
The figure paused, inspecting their surroundings. Their masked face glowed in the half-light, looking akin to something one might see at a Valish fall festival or rave; a macabre silver LED smiley face on a black void.
There were two security cameras in the dimly lit cell block, but they had already been disabled; they were also only focused on the entrance, and when active, could not see into the cells. So the intruder could not currently know the condition of the cell's occupants.
The cell block was dead silent, save the jittery hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. There were no shining Semblance glyphs dotted about, no guards waiting in the eves and no visible captives. There was a single, open cell near the end of the cell block.
The intruder took a few steps inside, before stopping again. Instead of moving closer to the open cell, however, they threw a glowing Dust kunai towards the corner opposite the open cell. The blade got snatched out of the air, seemingly by nothing.
"Hey, that was pretty smooth."
Behind the black figure, the Hard Light barriers reactivated, blocking their exit. The intruder did not jump, panic or attack again. Instead, they watched on calmly, the glowing 'X' eyes of their mask staring at the plain looking man who had appeared almost out of nowhere; the tell tale flash of Semblance glyphs on his cufflinks and shoes gave some inkling as to his previous invisibility.
The man was seated backwards on a wooden chair next to another, less fortunate looking man, who was lying handcuffed and bound on the floor. This individual was bruised and bloodied, an ugly gash oozing across his shaved head; but there was furious gleam in his eyes as he squinted up at his captor.
Said captor had a pistol with a silencer on it, and was gesturing casually, seemingly unconcerned by this interruption. His dress was unremarkable but practical, like the stalking Witchfingers upstairs. There were deep circles under his eyes, but they shone intently as they studied the newcomer.
"Nice mask," he chuckled after a moment, resting his chin. "Who is that under there, hm?"
He squinted almost playfully.
"That you, Summer?"
The figure did not react to that name and simply continued to watch him. They had not drawn any weapons either. However, something glinted in their hand and inside their jacket.
"I think it iiiis," Verdant hummed after a moment, a knowing smirk crossing his features. "Naughty! How are you in two places at once right now, Summer? Ozpin helping you guys out?"
No reaction, but the captive on the floor coughed painfully.
"Your dad know what you're up to?"
Again, nothing. The eerie mask glowed softly in the cool half-light of the cell block.
"Feelin shy then, alright. That's ok - Sorry, where are my manners," Verdant nodded towards another chair nearby. "You wanna sit down?"
The intruder stayed put.
Verdant let out a huff of amusement.
"Relax. I'm not gonna shoot you - I might shoot Spruce here, if he pisses me off again. Isn't that right Sprucey?"
"Fuck you, ya cunt-" Spruce coughed.
Verdant stoically kicked a boot heel out and cracked it into the side of the bound man's jaw; blood and spit flew across the tiles.
The intruder twitched for the first time since throwing a knife at his head, and stepped forward. Verdant did not seem concerned by this, and his smile grew.
"Uh huh, yea. You come sit down and maybe this guy can keep what's left of his nasty fuckin teeth. How bout that?"
The man on the floor moaned.
"Don't- just run ."
Verdant sighed, aiming his pistol at the back of the man's head.
"You are dumber than dirt, Spruce, you know that? But hey, maybe that's unfair to dirt. Hell, dirt does a lot. Can't do much without dirt! But man, we could do a lot without you, Spruce. Guys like you just hold everybody else back. It is genuinely frustrating. Trying to turn you people into something useful ."
Verdant shook his salt and pepper head in frustration, before looking up at the figure standing at the other end of the room; his eyes were coldly picking apart their body language, attire, armaments. However, his voice sounded almost empathetic when he started talking again.
"Listen, Summer. I don't know much about you personally, but from what I've seen? You seem like a pretty good kid. Like you wanna make the world a better place," Verdant coolly gestured with his pistol. "And hey, you can still do that! But whoever you're working for, right now? They haven't been very honest with you. Alright?"
The intruder was impeccably still, giving away nothing; just listening.
"Real talk? There's only two sides you can actually be on," Verdant insisted seriously, leaning forwards. "And that's ours, ya know - Civilization's side. Or, the side of the thing that wants to kill us all. And Sprucey here, in that dumb little chestnut he calls a brain, believes he's special. And thinks there is a third option for people like him, and guess what? There isn't. Never has been."
Verdant popped up out of his chair finally, strolling around lazily; he paused to crack his neck.
"There is the side of Life, and then, there's Decay. No such thing as a 'middle ground', shit doesn't exist."
The skinchanger cocked his head as he studied the extremely still stranger in the macabre party mask.
"That cutesy spiel the tribes like to tell everybody about - ya know, about balance or what the fuck ever - that's a lie. One we tell ourselves to make us feel better, about our short, mean little lives," he released the safety on his semi-automatic, and pointed it at Spruce's battered skull. "Truth is, right now, if I pasted Spruce's wormy grey matter all over the floor and then burned his corpse, I'd probably be preventing the birth of a hundred or so future Grimm."
The figure side-stepped slightly, quietly, and Verdant snapped the pistol back towards the intruder, but he carried on as if discussing his morning cereal or his favorite mechanic magazine.
"Because that's how this shit works. People like this - like Spruce, here - leave swathes of angry, miserable dead behind them, all future Grimm. You learn about that in school? Probably not," he rambled dryly. His eyes looked like flecks of dried blood. "But that's how it works. In the end, you're either a productive member of society, or, you are a pawn for Decay and all the death she brings. There's no avoiding it, no fuzzy wuzzy place in the middle - that's just people being dumb and selfish."
Verdant tossed a flat look towards the intruder.
"And right now? You're being pretty dumb and selfish, kid."
The mask's eyes and mouth glowed softly, betraying no emotion, no reaction to this accusation.
"But you can start to fix that, by sitting down," he glared, eyes cold. Beneath the muted, tired looking exterior was something implacable and brutal. "And telling me who the fuck is calling the shots, and who else is working with you."
The intruder did not sit down. They didn't move at all. They just...stared.
Verdant's eyes grew irritated, a sneer pulling at his lip before he shook it off with a chuckle and shrug.
"Ok, tried to be polite - SIT. DOWN ."
Verdant's Semblance activated, target hopping from the man on the floor whom he'd previously had to subdue, to the person standing at the other end of the room. Instead of finding an aura and mind to clamp down on, however, he was met with a bright flash of silver for his trouble. For a microsecond there was a person there, and then nothing; they disappeared too fast for him to get a good sense of who they genuinely were, or what they were capable of, despite his working theory.
The King's man squinted, aiming not with his silenced pistol, but with the augmented semi-automatic he had drawn instantly from his hip. It was loaded with aural piercing rounds and ready to wing an arm or leg; he had no intention of killing the person, Summer or not. Taking them alive was leagues more useful and they could be used as a bargaining chip and interrogated. That and killing them would send the message that death was all that waited for the others if they surrendered or were captured, inspiring them to go down fighting; and he obviously didn't want that.
He really, really, did not want that.
"Suuummer," he called roughly, studying the cellblock. "I'm not in the mood to play games with you. Come on out, or Spruce here gets a new hole in his head."
Spruce coughed bloody spittle again; one or several of his ribs were broken. The crazy son of a bitch was still trying to activate his Semblance, despite everything his body and mind had been through. He had no aura left, due to the suppressants and was literally draining his life-force in feral determination, something that very few people were ever capable of. It was getting extremely annoying, but it was admirable in it's own futile way.
"Alright then. Spruce, it's been fun," Verdant whipped his hand around to blow a fist size hole in the back of the other skinchanger's skull.
Verdant's index finger twitched gently, right as another silver flash went off, exactly where Spruce was sprawled out. He exhaled slowly, rage building in his chest; there was nothing there anymore, save a palm sized piece of mirror. It must have been flung there during the first flash, when he was blinded.
A wolfish snarl escaped him as he smashed the glass under his boot heel; his splintered reflection glared back up at him from the floor.
After a beat, Verdant lifted his scroll to his mouth. There was a brief pause as he got his temper under control, before he spoke again.
"Bellicose, you've got incoming. Have ya'll reached the new place yet?"
"We have, yes, a while ago-"
"Good. Get shit locked down. Nothing in, nothing out. And no fucking mirrors, apparently."
" Verdant, I can't reach Adria or the others - and no one has heard from Regalia-"
He inhaled deeply.
"Worry about your own shit right now, please," he interrupted brusquely. "I'll handle it."
There was a brief pause. He could almost hear them contemplating some form of rebellion from here. Bell always felt the need to test him and anyone else with an ounce of authority over them at the worst possible moments, and right now he didn't have time for it.
"I will physically go check on your girlfriend, this fuckin second," Verdant insisted, letting the seriousness bleed into his voice. "But you gotta do your damn job , Bell, because otherwise? They are gonna kill you, all of you. I'm serious. Some freaky ass shit is afoot tonight. So get ready."
Another pause.
"...I'm on it."
Verdant hung up and spun on his heel, beelining for security and praying he wasn't going to find a corpse. The silver "X" eyes stayed burning in the back of his mind.
Spruce Macmillan had had a shite time of it recently. In fact, until a few seconds ago, he was sure that he was going to die. That hadn't necessarily been his desire, as he was a man who greatly enjoyed breathing and the things that came with that; but it had seemed like the inevitable outcome. He and his wife had been raising hell all their lives, and they were not going to fucking stop now, thank you very much. Even with their heads on the chopping block.
Ever since their capture, they had been doing everything in their power to escape and get back to their babies; which, unfortunately, wasn't too much. However, his Semblance had always given him a bit of an edge over his enemies; and in this situation, it had proven extremely irritating for his captors.
Spruce could amplify emotions, in himself and in other people. In a crowd, he could cause a riot or a panicked stampede. In a proper raid, when they had a real tribe together, he was a fucking legend. Because he could send himself into a nigh unstoppable berserking fit, while simultaneously amplifying the fear in their enemies. In a prison environment, he was delighted to discover that he was a bloody nightmare.
So, he got to stay behind while the yellow bootlicking bastards moved their captives via the old, secret underground routes that led out of the Kingdom from the castle; the last he'd seen of his wife was her being marched out the back with others, while he and that pissant Verdant stayed behind to wait. Because apparently, as he and the other free folk had deduced before being carted off, some mad, beautiful bastards were trying to mount a fucking raid of all things.
They were doomed to fail of course, at least that's what he had believed. But gods, was he jealous. If he was gonna go out, he wanted it to be in a blaze like that; not hogtied on his belly and shot in the back.
Then things got a smidge peculiar. Because one moment, he'd been desperately trying to berserk and break free of his bonds once again, while that cunt Verdant was busy flapping his cock-snare; and in the next, apparently, Spruce had been drug into hell.
Now, he was not an easily frightened man, especially considering his Semblance. Usually if he got scared, then he just made himself feel something else more intensely. However, the moment they entered wherever the fuck they were, his entire body rebelled against his will; and he was not too proud to admit that he was sobbing, pissing and screaming his head off while someone very short and very apologetic tried to desperately keep a handle on him.
She was lucky he was tied up. He wasn't able to roll very far like this; and he only really managed to bite her once.