Disclaimer: I don't own the shows, or songs, they belong to their respective owners.

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Song: Pajaros- Santaolalla

Somewhere in the Wilds

Maine

This hooded figure stayed silent as he led me through the woods, all weapons sheathed I studied his form warily. He was very tall, I guessed about 6'3'', not close to my own in-armor eight-foot frame, but very impressive. I was 6'4'' before augmentations.

This man seemed to have a light build, strong enough to wield his weapons, including a Desert Eagle one-handed, but not overly buff, able to move quickly, unlike my brute form, meant for heavy hitting and slow movement.

This man led me to a small cabin next to a cliff, lights off and seemingly abandoned.

"This is your home?" I asked.

The man shrugged. "From time to time. I drift."

I nodded. A safe house, meant for a night's stay.

"Let's get inside, storm's starting pick up." He suggested, the wind making his trench coat flap in the wind.

After producing a key, we entered the small cabin, which was furnished with a stove and a rectangular table with four chairs next to a fireplace, already loaded with logs, and a door leading into a room where I could see bunk beds.

"I think this was home to a mining team." The man told me, sliding the case off his back and setting it on the table. "There's a mine not far from here, still filled with Dust. I refine it and use it for my weapons and gear."

I nodded, shrugging off my coat and hanging it on a stud by the door, placing my duffel underneath.

"So, what do I call you?" I asked.

"Name's Colt. Colt Silver." He told me, then pulled off his hood and mask, revealing a young face and brown hair that was at least an inch long, cut roughly as if he'd done it himself.

"You're very young."

"Almost sixteen." He told me. "If you think I can't handle myself because I'm too young, just remember what I did, before and during your intervention. Now, what am I supposed to call you?"

"Maine." I told him, and he nodded. "Well, Maine, I need to get a fire going. You can spend the night if you want, but I leave in the morning."

"Fine by me."

The young teen stepped over to the fireplace. Then, held his hand open, a flame roaring to life above it. He blew fire onto the logs, which caught flame instantly, and the cabin began to warm.

I looked at him thoughtfully. "How are you able to do that?"

"It's my Semblance." He answered.

"Then how did you do the knife thing back there?" I asked, jerking a thumb back to signify the fight.

"That's my Semblance, too."

"People only have one Semblance." I told him.

He shrugged. "I don't. Telekinesis, Pyromancy, and telepathy. Besides, I've never really talked to someone else about their Semblance."

I shook my head. "I don't know how that's possible." I told him.

"Me either, I didn't know I was doing anything illegal." He murmured, then proceeded to light the gas stove, placing a pan on the top. From nowhere, he pulled two large steaks and spices and set them on a plate he retrieved from a cabinet.

"How did you do that? You never said Summoning or anything like that."

"I can't, it's all because of this." Colt pulled his sleeve back on his left arm, revealing a black gauntlet covering a black sleeve. "I call it the holo-gauntlet. Invented it myself." He said with an ounce of pride in his voice.

"And what's so special about it?"

"Well, for starters, it's a computer that can generate hard-light tools, like a knife, bow staff, and a mini-crossbow and shield, plus it has a liquidizer that can turn anything into a liquid state while keeping it at the same temperature." He began.

I nodded, remembering the same kind of device in York's sword.

"And it also has this pocket dimension I call the Void. I can store anything in there using the liquidizer and it keeps it there. I've got a few more liquidizers hooked up to electromagnets here," He gestured to his knuckles, "And the computer liquidizes some alloy I have in there and spurts in out of here."

"How does that help?"

Colt curled his hand into a fist like a wave, starting with the pinkie. And soon as he closed his thumb over the fingers, metal claws formed and hardened in two seconds. "That's how."

My eyes widened. "How do you trigger it?"

"I have different hand signals for it. I've also got this setting so that this armor I have that's currently in the Void spreads over my body, then hardens in this invincible knight's armor, and certain weapons in preset modes se I can call them to my hands in seconds."

"Then why keep so many weapons on your person?" I questioned.

Colt sighed. "It takes too long for the weapons to form and harden for some reason, so I keep a basic arsenal with me."

Maine chuckled. "I noticed."

Colt began cooking the steaks, filling the cabin with sweet aromas and smoke, whistling a tune as he worked. I checked Regret, make sure everything was in order, then looked to Colt.

He stopped spicing a second later and shrugged off his trench coat, then reached for a clip that held his bandolier, which had a second strap branching off from the middle up and over his shoulder, making a Y, and pulled it off. "Hey, Maine, can you put these by my Triple Case?"

I stepped over and took them, examining the bandolier's armament. It had a magnetic plate on the back, probably what held the case on his back, and a couple grenades and a dagger on the front, along with multiple types of slugs, shells, and bullets.

After placing the bandolier and coat by his case, rifle still inside, I looked to Colt. He wore a set of clothes with armored sections on it, mixes of varying shades of grey, silver, and black steel and Kevlar on the biceps, abs, chest, spine, thighs, knees and waist. On his right shoulder was a chrome pad with a tribal flame in black detail, on the left a midnight pad shaped to cover the beginning of the bicep.

On his forearms were gauntlets, the holo-gauntlet a dark black and the other dark grey, with a dagger with a blade as long as the gauntlet in a sheath, the hilt aiming towards his hand, so he could draw it easily with his left hand.

On his right thigh was a line of three sheaths holding throwing knives, and on the left was a strange object that seemed to hold multiple clips and magazines for his Deagle and rifle. His belt held the double-scabbard, both sheaths dark black with chrome where the sheath met the hilt, and pouches all around the belt, including a pair of handcuffs, the Deagle in its black leather holster on his right side, a large pouch a few inches behind it, underneath the belt attached to his rear pocket, holding a few bulky objects. He wore knee-high boots with a top that stuck out at the front, slightly covering the knee. The calf, toe, and heel had chrome covering, and the top of the boot had that same tribal flame as on his shoulder.

Colt put the final touches on the steaks before serving them with a red liquid in glasses he pulled from the Void.

"Aren't you a bit young for alcohol?" I questioned.

"It's not wine. Try it."

I took a sip, and it certainly wasn't alcohol, though it did seem to burn the back of my throat. "Cherry Cider." He told me.

"It's quite delicious." I told him.

We dug into dinner. I ate ravenously, for I'd eaten quite insufficiently during my journey. Soon, Colt attempted conversation.

"So, care to tell me why you've come out to the Shadowy Heights?" He started.

"I'm out here so I don't hurt anyone." I told him.

"Ah, you killed someone, and now you think you're a monster."

"Killed a really annoying woman, her brother used to be a friend."

Colt sighed. "Yeah, I'd imagine. What did she do?"

"I was angry, wounded, acting like an animal, and she insulted me, called me a monster, which I was. I shot her, then ran."

"Well, you should never insult a man when he's in berserker mode." Colt stated.

"You seem very calm in the presence of a murderer." I stated.

"You plan on killing me?"

"No."

He took a swig of cider. "Planning on killing anyone else?"

"I never plan on it nowadays, it's by accident."

"Then we're fine. You made a mistake, and now you regret it." He said. "Besides, anyone out here in the Wilds is out here for a reason. Half of them are outcasts sent here, either by the law or themselves because of their crimes."

"Then why are you here?"

Colt leaned back. "I was born in the Wilds, small town. It was attacked by Grimm, and I didn't want to go back to civilization. Not to mention, I don't know which way to head, so I just drift around, killing Grimm, exploring these Wilds." He told him. "I been all around this mountain, down in the deserts, and in the Forgotten Forest to the Southeast. Been mapping some of it."

I nodded, and we continued in silence. "Can I travel with you?" I asked.

"No offense, but you seem like the loner type." Colt grinned. "Why?"

"Seems like it's lonely out here. If we're going to be surviving here in the Wilds, might as well do it together, strength in numbers and all that."

Colt was silent, slowly eating his steak as he thought. "You've got it right that it's really quiet, could use a partner." He looked up. "We'll stay here a couple days, collect some food, then we head for the monastery. It's further up the mountain, we can hole up there for the winter, its abandoned, but power's still running and its filled with supplies."

"What happened there?"

"It was too cold and Grimm kept swarming it after one monk apparently died mysteriously, put all the rest in a sad mood. Of course, the Grimm followed it like a beacon. Survivors ran to the kingdoms, and it's been untouched except for me."

I nodded, taking a final bite of steak. "I assume we'll be collecting food for the journey over the next couple days?"

Colt nodded. "Indeed."

"Then it sounds like a plan, partner."

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Song: Forgotten Memories-Santaolalla

Ain Ranch

York

That night, we ate a wonderful beef stew, homemade ice cream and cookies, the entire Ain family at the table.

Mr. Blake Ain was a man with greying hair and tan skin, black eyes under a pair of black-rimmed glasses. His wife, Kate Ain, wore a white blouse and brown leather jeans her brown hair still full of youth.

Forrest sat and ate with delight, obviously happy his mother had cooked another wonderful meal, and his younger sister, Hunter, was a 16-year-old with brown hair of a darker hue that her brother and mother. She also had a light tan, and her body was slightly muscular. She wore a white dress shirt and a pair of jeans, a sword dangling from her belt.

One fact York had learned about the family was that they were of Tiger Faunus lineage. Each had their own traits, but all had excellent night-vision.

"So, York, not that we don't enjoy the company, but when will you be heading to the Shadowy Heights?" Blake Ain asked.

"We tracked Maine until the mountain a few miles southeast of here." North explained. "That's its name."

York smiled. "We'll probably be heading that way as soon as Ruby feels up to it, we need to find him before the trail goes cold." He explained.

"Dad, can I help them track down his friends. I can take Whitley."

York looked at the bloodhound at the floor, Whitley. The dog could be very useful in tracking their prodigal brute.

"I'm sure they don't want an extra person to feed, Hunter." Her mother protested.

York waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine, Mrs. Ain. Should you be alright with it, she could be a massive help to us."

The matriarch had a concerned look covering her features. "Alright, Hunter. You and Whitley can go, but only if your brother goes, too."

"Mom, I can't. Dad needs my help taking the horses to the market tomorrow."

"Just let her go, Kate. She can take care of herself." Blake soothed.

"Alright, but you come straight home. We don't want you to run into the Cowboys."

"Cowboys?" York questioned.

"They run this area, a group of ruthless gunslingers that are very strong in numbers. Sheriff's in their pocket, and they tax us for 'protection' and other things like that." Hunter hissed.

York frowned. "And you're alright with this?"

"Oh, the Cowboys might be a nuisance, but we get by. Besides, they keep the Grimm at bay." Blake murmured.

York sighed, then looked at the young teen. "We leave at dawn tomorrow, pack for the weather, whatever you need."

"I'll be ready."

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Song: Clairvoyant- Two Steps from Hell

Miner's Cabin

Maine

"Colt, no! Give that to me before you drop it down the toilet." Maine heard a woman's voice say from the top bunk. "No, don't put it in your mouth, that's a Scroll! Oh, geez, Colt, no!"

"Play next file, ILA." Colt said from above, and that same voice, I assumed it was his mother, was gently humming a lullaby, a beautifully calming tune that sent me back into memories long left behind, and lulled me into the arms of sleep.